The following winter I had the honor of meeting King Oscar, of Sweden, at the funeral solemnities arranged by the grand lodge of Free Masons on the occasion of the death of King Charles XV. I have attended quite a number of official gatherings of different kinds in different countries, and seen persons vested with the highest authority conducting the same, but as to true dignity and lofty majesty, King Oscar excelled them all. When I compare him with the czar of all the Russias, or compare the condition of the Swedes with that of their Russian neighbors, I thank God for my old native land and its noble king.
Of my numerous trips in Sweden I must mention one in particular,—a journey by sleigh,—in company with my old friend Karl Möllersvärd, from Upsala to Gefle, and from Falun south, through Dalarne, past Smedjebacken, and the lakes below this to Vesterås. The beauty of the country of a northern clime does not show itself in its entire splendor until dressed in the garb of winter. The branches of the mighty pines loaded down by the dazzling snow; millions of snow crystals, more beautiful than diamonds, glittering from every twig as the sun sends its first morning rays through the forests; the picturesque costumes of the peasantry; the comfortable inns with their fine dishes of northern game; the neat sleighs drawn by small, swift, sure-footed horses; here and there a smelting furnace or a country church,—all these things combined left on my mind a picture of rural life more quiet, happy and beautiful than I had ever seen before.
[ CHAPTER XII.]
Visit in Minnesota and Philadelphia—Conversation with Jay Cooke—The Crisis of 1873—Negotiations in Holland—Draining of a Lake in Skåne—Icelandic Colony in Manitoba—Return to America.
In the spring of 1873 I returned to Minnesota in company with a large number of immigrants. Being anxious to have my children learn the Swedish language, I left my family in Sweden where the children attended school. They spent this summer at Ronneby watering place, where the surroundings are characteristic of the mild and pleasant scenery of southern Sweden.
In traveling from the Atlantic to Minnesota we came by way of the Great Lakes and the Sault St. Marie canal. Having spent a couple of months in Minnesota I returned to Europe again via Philadelphia, New York and Quebec. The reader may remember that the Northern Pacific railroad was building at that time, and that Jay Cooke, by means of his enthusiasm and great popularity, had succeeded in raising large sums of money for this stupendous enterprise. The Union Pacific railroad, south of us, was already in operation, and its owners, fearing the competition of the new road, had resorted to all conceivable schemes to undermine the confidence of the public in the Northern Pacific road and its promoters. Many of those who had furnished money began to feel uneasy, but Jay Cooke went ahead, full of hope and confidence in its final success. Just as I called at his private office in Philadelphia in August, one of his bookkeepers handed him a card from a prominent moneyed man in Philadelphia who wished to see him, and the following conversation took place between the two:
“What can I do for you, my friend?” Jay Cooke said.
“We begin,” said the capitalist, “to lose confidence in your railroad schemes. I have bought $20,000 worth of bonds, but I am getting a little afraid, and came to ask your advice.”