LETTER XVI.
I set out
from Fredericstadt about three o’clock in the afternoon, and expected to reach
Stromstad before the night closed in; but the wind dying away, the weather
became so calm that we scarcely made any perceptible advances towards the
opposite coast, though the men were fatigued with rowing.
Getting
amongst the rocks and islands as the moon rose, and the stars darted forward
out of the clear expanse, I forgot that the night stole on whilst indulging
affectionate reveries, the poetical fictions of sensibility; I was not,
therefore, aware of the length of time we had been toiling to reach
Stromstad. And when I began to look around, I did not perceive anything
to indicate that we were in its neighbourhood. So far from it, that when
I inquired of the pilot, who spoke a little English, I found that he was only
accustomed to coast along the Norwegian shore; and had been only once across to
Stromstad. But he had brought with him a fellow better acquainted, he
assured me, with the rocks by which they were to steer our course, for we had
not a compass on board; yet, as he was half a fool, I had little confidence in
his skill. There was then great reason to fear that we had lost our way,
and were straying amidst a labyrinth of rocks without a clue.
This was
something like an adventure, but not of the most agreeable cast; besides, I was
impatient to arrive at Stromstad, to be able to send forward that night a boy
to order horses on the road to be ready, for I was unwilling to remain there a
day without having anything to detain me from my little girl, and from the
letters which I was impatient to get from you.
I began to
expostulate, and even to scold the pilot, for not having informed me of his
ignorance previous to my departure. This made him row with more force,
and we turned round one rock only to see another, equally destitute of the
tokens we were in search of to tell us where we were. Entering also into
creek after creek which promised to be the entrance of the bay we were seeking,
we advanced merely to find ourselves running aground.
The
solitariness of the scene, as we glided under the dark shadows of the rocks,
pleased me for a while; but the fear of passing the whole night thus wandering
to and fro, and losing the next day, roused me. I begged the pilot to
return to one of the largest islands, at the side of which we had seen a boat
moored. As we drew nearer, a light through a window on the summit became
our beacon; but we were farther off than I supposed.
With some
difficulty the pilot got on shore, not distinguishing the landing-place; and I
remained in the boat, knowing that all the relief we could expect was a man to
direct us. After waiting some time, for there is an insensibility in the
very movements of these people that would weary more than ordinary patience, he
brought with him a man who, assisting them to row, we landed at Stromstad a
little after one in the morning.
It was too
late to send off a boy, but I did not go to bed before I had made the
arrangements necessary to enable me to set out as early as possible.
The sun rose
with splendour. My mind was too active to allow me to loiter long in bed,
though the horses did not arrive till between seven and eight. However,
as I wished to let the boy, who went forward to order the horses, get
considerably the start of me, I bridled in my impatience.
This
precaution was unavailing, for after the three first posts I had to wait two
hours, whilst the people at the post-house went, fair and softly, to the farm,
to bid them bring up the horses which were carrying in the first-fruits of the
harvest. I discovered here that these sluggish peasants had their share
of cunning. Though they had made me pay for a horse, the boy had gone on
foot, and only arrived half an hour before me. This disconcerted the
whole arrangement of the day; and being detained again three hours, I
reluctantly determined to sleep at Quistram, two posts short of Uddervalla,
where I had hoped to have arrived that night.
But when I
reached Quistram I found I could not approach the door of the inn for men,
horses, and carts, cows, and pigs huddled together. From the concourse of
people I had met on the road I conjectured that there was a fair in the
neighbourhood; this crowd convinced me that it was but too true. The
boisterous merriment that almost every instant produced a quarrel, or made me
dread one, with the clouds of tobacco, and fumes of brandy, gave an infernal
appearance to the scene. There was everything to drive me back, nothing
to excite sympathy in a rude tumult of the senses, which I foresaw would end in
a gross debauch. What was to be done? No bed was to be had, or even
a quiet corner to retire to for a moment; all was lost in noise, riot, and
confusion.
After some
debating they promised me horses, which were to go on to Uddervalla, two
stages. I requested something to eat first, not having dined; and the
hostess, whom I have mentioned to you before as knowing how to take care of
herself, brought me a plate of fish, for which she charged a rix-dollar and a
half. This was making hay whilst the sun shone. I was glad to get
out of the uproar, though not disposed to travel in an incommodious open
carriage all night, had I thought that there was any chance of getting horses.
Quitting
Quistram I met a number of joyous groups, and though the evening was fresh many
were stretched on the grass like weary cattle; and drunken men had fallen by
the road-side. On a rock, under the shade of lofty trees, a large party
of men and women had lighted a fire, cutting down fuel around to keep it alive
all night. They were drinking, smoking, and laughing with all their might
and main. I felt for the trees whose torn branches strewed the
ground. Hapless nymphs! your haunts, I fear, were polluted by many an
unhallowed flame, the casual burst of the moment!
The horses
went on very well; but when we drew near the post-house the postillion stopped
short and neither threats nor promises could prevail on him to go
forward. He even began to howl and weep when I insisted on his keeping
his word. Nothing, indeed, can equal the stupid obstinacy of some of
these half-alive beings, who seem to have been made by Prometheus when the fire
he stole from Heaven was so exhausted that he could only spare a spark to give
life, not animation, to the inert clay.
It was some
time before we could rouse anybody; and, as I expected, horses, we were told,
could not be had in less than four or five hours. I again attempted to
bribe the churlish brute who brought us there, but I discovered that, in spite
of the courteous hostess’s promises, he had received orders not to go any
father.
As there was
no remedy I entered, and was almost driven back by the stench—a softer phrase
would not have conveyed an idea of the hot vapour that issued from an apartment
in which some eight or ten people were sleeping, not to reckon the cats and
dogs stretched on the floor. Two or three of the men or women were on the
benches, others on old chests; and one figure started half out of a trunk to
look at me, whom might have taken for a ghost, had the chemise been white, to
contrast with the sallow visage. But the costume of apparitions not being
preserved I passed, nothing dreading, excepting the effluvia, warily amongst
the pots, pans, milk-pails, and washing-tubs. After scaling a ruinous
staircase I was shown a bed-chamber. The bed did not invite me to enter;
opening, therefore, the window, and taking some clean towels out of my
night-sack, I spread them over the coverlid, on which tired Nature found
repose, in spite of the previous disgust.
With the
grey of the morn the birds awoke me; and descending to inquire for the horses,
I hastened through the apartment I have already described, not wishing to
associate the idea of a pigstye with that of a human dwelling.
I do not now
wonder that the girls lose their fine complexions at such an early age, or that
love here is merely an appetite to fulfil the main design of Nature, never
enlivened by either affection or sentiment.
For a few
posts we found the horses waiting; but afterwards I was retarded, as before, by
the peasants, who, taking advantage of my ignorance of the language, made me
pay for the fourth horse that ought to have gone forward to have the others in
readiness, though it had never been sent. I was particularly impatient at
the last post, as I longed to assure myself that my child was well.
My
impatience, however, did not prevent my enjoying the journey. I had six
weeks before passed over the same ground; still it had sufficient novelty to
attract my attention, and beguile, if not banish, the sorrow that had taken up
its abode in my heart. How interesting are the varied beauties of Nature,
and what peculiar charms characterise each season! The purple hue which
the heath now assumed gave it a degree of richness that almost exceeded the
lustre of the young green of spring, and harmonised exquisitely with the rays
of the ripening corn. The weather was uninterruptedly fine, and the
people busy in the fields cutting down the corn, or binding up the sheaves,
continually varied the prospect. The rocks, it is true, were unusually
rugged and dreary; yet as the road runs for a considerable way by the side of a
fine river, with extended pastures on the other side, the image of sterility
was not the predominant object, though the cottages looked still more
miserable, after having seen the Norwegian farms. The trees likewise
appeared of me growth of yesterday, compared with those Nestors of the forest I
have frequently mentioned. The women and children were cutting off
branches from the beech, birch, oak, &c, and leaving them to dry.
This way of helping out their fodder injures the trees. But the winters
are so long that the poor cannot afford to lay in a sufficient stock of
hay. By such means they just keep life in the poor cows, for little milk
can be expected when they are so miserably fed.
It was
Saturday, and the evening was uncommonly serene. In the villages I
everywhere saw preparations for Sunday; and I passed by a little car loaded
with rye, that presented, for the pencil and heart, the sweetest picture of a
harvest home I had ever beheld. A little girl was mounted a-straddle on a
shaggy horse, brandishing a stick over its head; the father was walking at the side
of the car with a child in his arms, who must have come to meet him with
tottering steps; the little creature was stretching out its arms to cling round
his neck; and a boy, just above petticoats, was labouring hard with a fork
behind to keep the sheaves from falling.
My eyes
followed them to the cottage, and an involuntary sigh whispered to my heart
that I envied the mother, much as I dislike cooking, who was preparing their
pottage. I was returning to my babe, who may never experience a father’s
care or tenderness. The bosom that nurtured her heaved with a pang at the
thought which only an unhappy mother could feel.
Adieu!