The Alhambra and the Kremlin: The South and the North of Europe

by Samuel Irenæus Prime

The evening had been delicious on deck, but as it drew nigh to midnight, I would turn in. My companion for the night was the Russian gentleman whose friendship I had secured during the day. His long, white beard had commanded my respect. He had asked me innumerable questions of my country and myself, all of which I had answered to the best of my ability. He had learned my name,—which he pronounced Preem, as all the continental Europeans do,—and somewhat of my profession, and he determined to do the polite thing, and in English too, before going into retirement for the night. His berth was on one side of the little cabin, mine on the other. We could shake hands across, but we did not. He arrayed himself in his robes of the night: a red night-cap surmounted his head, making a fiery contrast with his snow-white beard. Sitting up on his couch, he addressed me with great dignity and formality: “My Reverend Preem, I wish you good-night,” and subsided into the pillow.

In the course of the night we steamed out of the canal into Lake Wenner, the largest in Sweden, and the third in size of all the lakes in Europe. Even in bed we could perceive that we were at sea, for the roll of the ship was as if we were on the Mediterranean. But we made the most of the passage before morning, and touched the next day at Johkoping, one of the most important inland towns in the kingdom.

This Lake Wenner abounds in trout, and to catch them of the modest weight of forty pounds is nothing remarkable. It would have been remarked, however, if we had had the luck to catch one of that weight, or any thing like it.

A Swedish ship-captain entertained me with stories of his life on this canal, with vessels worked by sails, pulled by man, and sometimes bullock power, creeping cautiously through the lakes, and running in shore whenever the wind was up. He said that he had lived all his days in this way, and was now taking his ease. All day, as we were making our way slowly along, we had been hearing the praises sounded of the Falls of Trollhatten, which we were to reach in the afternoon. The scenery had been improving, rising sometimes into the grand, and always picturesque and pleasing, as we passed well-tilled farms and the abodes of prosperous peasants. A range of locks must be worried through to get by the Falls, and this gives us the time we want, to see and enjoy one of the finest cataracts in Europe! You know they have nothing very great in that line. I have seen them all, and written them up as much as they would bear, but they do not amount to any thing very wonderful, nothing indeed to be compared with ours. We have half a dozen falls that would outleap and outroar all theirs, and we must praise them as an off-set to their palaces and pictures and stone women. They have marvels of art; we, wonders of nature, especially Niagara. Foreigners enjoy a description of Niagara by one who has seen it more than to hear of any thing else in America. But they have often been sullenly incredulous when I have assured them that a mighty river, with the water of half a dozen inland seas, gathers itself within banks a mile asunder, and then makes one prodigious plunge over a precipice 150 feet deep, into an unfathomed gulf!

Trollhatten does not attempt such a feat. But the river is caught among a mass of rocks in a narrow gorge, just where the mountains break down to the valley, and the stream comes roaring, tumbling, foaming, rushing headlong with power, fury, madness, indescribable. Water in motion is always beautiful, and when a mighty volume of it is struggling with resisting forces, tearing its way over and down the jagged rocks, and among the green trees of overhanging precipices, what is beautiful becomes sublime and fearful, and admiration rises into awe. In one place the rocks have been actually cut away by art to allow the passage of the water for use, and then the torrent leaps seventy feet at one bound into a frightful abyss. One lofty rock, with a broad, smooth face, like a great tablet, is inscribed with the names of kings, and the dates of their visit to this romantic and interesting spot.

We are now to take the river. The canal is at an end for us. Already we have a taste of more exciting navigation. To get the steamer into the river the sailors are working away as if for dear life. One poor fellow is caught by the leg in a hawser-line, carried overboard, and when brought on deck is found to have one of his legs broken. It was a sad termination to our pleasure excursion of three days. We had been brought into such constant intercourse with the men that we knew them all, and felt a personal interest in the poor seaman now stretched helpless on the deck. He was carried to the forecastle, and put away to be taken to the hospital at Gottenburg, but we could not put him out of mind so easily. After the excitement was over, I asked the captain what the owners would do for a sailor thus injured in their service, and learned that they would pay his hospital charges, and nothing more; in the mean time, while he was getting well, his family must look out for themselves. I then proposed to the captain and the Swedish professor that we should take up a collection among the passengers to help the man’s family in their want. To my surprise, they said it was a thing unknown among them, and would not meet with any favor if attempted. They regarded the idea as quite fanciful and preposterous. Well, I said, “In my country the passengers would do it; if you will interpret for me I will make a little speech, and you will see that they will not only give, but be greatly pleased with the opportunity of doing something.” The professor consented to be the interpreter, and we called the passengers together. I told them that “two or three Americans travelling with them through their beautiful and interesting country had greatly enjoyed the pleasant voyage of the last few days; but its pleasure had been marred by the sad accident that had just occurred to one engaged in our service. Though he was unknown to us, he was a man and a brother, and in the country from which I came, when such an event took place, we were in the habit of showing our sympathy for the injured by giving him money to lighten the calamity that had befallen him. You would gladly do so if you were permitted, and we propose to go around with a hat and let every one who is disposed contribute what he or she is pleased to give.” The professor turned the speech into Swedish, or at least said as much in that tongue, probably more and better. I could not understand a word; but his remarks were received with lively applause, and at his allusions to the Americans I nodded most intelligently, taking it for granted that he was saying something complimentary. We then received the gifts, and I believe that every passenger, male and female, gave something, and with a cheerfulness beautiful to observe.

A lone tower, rising above a mass of ruins, with a single wall surmounted by a heap of stones, strikingly resembling a huge lion, is all that remains of Hongfel, one of the most extensive of the old-time castles of Sweden. Here the river divides into two. We enter the left branch, passing near a fertile island; and, as the sun is going down behind a bank of threatening clouds, the city of Gottenburg, a seaport on the German ocean, rises upon our view with commanding beauty as we approach, and see the towers of its churches and the roofs of its principal buildings glistening in the last rays of the summer’s setting sun. The harbor is well protected, and the forest of masts presented all the appearances of a busy seaport. The usual crowd was on the wharf as our boat came to, but perfect order prevailed. No rush was made for baggage or passengers, but each one waited to be called for,—a model of good breeding that might be shown to advantage in the wilds of western civilization. Those of us who had become well acquainted in three days’ companionship now shook hands and bade each other farewell in our several tongues, the broken-legged sailor not being forgotten, as he lay in his bunk waiting to be taken to the hospital. We were soon distributed in our several directions, and parted, perhaps not to meet again, certainly not all of us, in this world.

It will give you an idea of the prices that rule in this country if I tell you that at the wharf we stepped into a carriage with two horses, our luggage was put on, we were driven to the hotel Gotha Kallare, the luggage was taken up to the chambers, and the price for the whole service was less than fifty cents of our money. Sweden still bears the palm of cheapness over all the countries I have seen.

Gottenburg proved to be an interesting place, though noted more for its commerce with Britain and America than for any thing else. The Merchants’ Exchange is a model in its way, combining a hall, and rooms for social entertainments, concerts, &c., which are managed by municipal authority. A museum of antiquities, illustrating the history and condition of the country, is well arranged, and would profitably detain the traveller a day or two to study it. The paintings are also interesting, where they preserve the memory of men and things belonging to Sweden, and of these there were many. The landlord of our hotel having learned from some of the Americans in our party that I was connected with the press, took pains to bring me into contact with my brethren of that fraternity in Gottenburg. Mr. Rubenson called and led me to the office of the Daily News, a paper devoted chiefly to the interests of merchants and sailors. I went through their press-rooms, composing and editorial apartments, and found them remarkably like those I was quite familiar with at home. This paper has a circulation of 8,000 daily, and on Saturday is published an edition of 3,000 extra, because on that day the poorer classes buy a paper for Sunday reading.

Mr. Rubenson took me to visit an institution the like of which I never heard of in any other city, and yet so useful in its object and result, that I had great satisfaction in visiting it. I am very anxious to have it known to the ladies of my own afflicted land. It was established by the energetic benevolence of one of the ladies of the city, who succeeded in getting a building specially erected and fitted for the purpose of giving young women instruction and practice in the arts of domestic life.