Written, issued and sewn together
by
Axel Robert Nilsson from Sweden.
In the Year 1850 Emigrated to
N. America
In Accordance with His Majesty’s Pleasure and Decree of August 10, 1819, the small Almanacs are hereafter to be sold, cut and bound, for 4 Skilling Banco apiece, which in American money is 3 cents Silver; whosoever dares increase this price or whosoever at the sale of almanacs offers them uncut or unbound at 4 Sk. apiece, will be fined 33 Riksdaler 16 Skilling Banco for each offence.
A New Description of the United States of North America
Truthfully written down after personal inspection on the spot. Begun during a Steamship Journey on the Mississippi July 27, 1850.
First Part
A skipper named Christoffer Columbus was the first white man to discover the United States of North America. Columbus arrived in the Northamerican Republic almost four hundred years before me, and he showed other Immigrants and Skippers the way here. He was later put into prison and severely punished.
North America is a very large and spacious land. If the whole Kingdom of Sweden were moved over here, it would hardly be noticed. Here the sun sets each evening six hours later than in Sweden, which is caused by all clocks and watches being six hours late. But the country is so large and broad that the sun hasn’t time to set everywhere at the same hour; far to the west in North America it does not set until many hours after dark.
The inhabitants of North America all speak English, due to the fact that they made themselves free of England’s tyranny by melting the lead of the English King’s statue in New York and making bullets of him. The English tongue is also called the language of the stutterers, because a stuttering person can speak it most easily. Most of the words are very short, and if they are too long they are bitten off in speech, and a stutterer will easier remember to bite off a word at the right moment.
Watercourses are in many places full of diseases, and the summers are often warm and unhealthy. It is better to take land in the forest, where the lakes are full of fish, than to settle on the prairies, where the rivers are full of fevers and chills. One can buy a horse and wagon and travel comfortably through North America, but this is expensive and takes a long time, for the country is large. Instead one can without danger to life ride on the Steam Wagon. Then one does not need a guide, for the Steam Wagon follows the road without concern to the rider. Two ruts are in North America called a road. Steamships move on all rivers faster than the current. They are also called Packets because they freight packets of mail. During the winter, ice lies on top of the running water, closing all passage of ships.
The rumors concerning white immigrants being sold as slaves in North America and sent to the Infidel Turk are without foundation. This I have been able to ascertain on the spot. Black people are offered for sale at their full price, but whites are not in demand and without value.
Second Part
The oldest Americans in this country are savages and called Indians. They do not have red skins as so falsely has been written before; they are brown. Because they are of a different color than the white Americans, they do not wish to live orderly or work. When the browns are killed they sometimes make great objections and attack white settlers. The tame Indians go about free everywhere with gray blankets over their heads.
The Indians are heathens but do not eat people as heathens are accustomed to, in their simple-mindedness, but live on wild seed called rice which grows among the reeds of the lakes. The grains are small and consequently it takes a long time to eat one’s sufficiency. For solid fare the Indians use the same food as John the Baptist in the desert: fried grasshoppers and wild honey and other larger and smaller animals. But when they meet a dangerous rattlesnake in the forest they say to him in all friendliness: Go your way and I will go mine! Him they do not kill.
The Indians live from hunting and such tilling as does not require work. On small patches they grow a grain which has no heads but a kind of root-stock, because this grain saves labor and requires no threshing with flail. The Indians paint their axes in all colors. But they do not use the axes for cutting trees or wood, only for smashing skulls of people and animals. When the Indian sees an enemy near by, he immediately cuts off the scalp and hangs it with the hair to dry outside his tent when the weather is fine. The one who hangs out the greatest number of scalps is highest in the tribe. Scalps without hair are without value and are not counted. Bald people are not scalped but allowed to run about.
The Indians are very clever at shooting with arrows. Even when they have climbed a tree and had their neck pierced through with the tree top they are able to shoot many arrows. In such cases, however, they seldom hit their aim. The men are the wisest and most intelligent among the Indians. The women do all the work.
Third Part
All people in North America call each other you, regardless of position, riches, or situation. The word is the same as the Swedish du (thou) and is pronounced like the Swedish jo (yes); this word can be used to anyone without danger. It is not forbidden to remove one’s hat in greeting but it is degrading in the North American Republic and not used.
In this country it is not—as in Sweden—considered distinguished or fine to show one’s great fortune in a round and fat body; in North America a skinny person is considered and honored as much as a fat one.
The livestock of North America enjoy so much good grazing that their horns sometimes are invisible in the tall grass. All cattle are big, beautiful, and very expensive. Even the women of North America are scarce and of high value.
Examinations in the Catechism are not held in the North American Republic. This I have ascertained after investigations on the spot. Authorities in America are not like in Sweden—eternal and mighty. This is so because it is not as in Sweden—put in its place by God. Government exists maybe but is not seen. Those in Power do not use the Catechism to keep the populace in obedience. No one need obey another unless he murders or steals. If anyone obeys anyone else in North America then it is because he is still too much Swedish.
The way from Sweden to North America is one-fourth the circumference of the globe, which prevents most Swedes from moving here.
Not in one word have I departed from the truth in this my Description of North America in the Almanac of Anno 1851.
XXII
“MOTHER, I WANT BREAD!”
—1—
One of the Swedish homesteads had been given a name—New Kärragärde—and Danjel suggested that Karl Oskar ought to follow his example and call his farm New Korpamoen, after his childhood home in Sweden. But Karl Oskar answered: Korpamoen was the last name he would wish to give his new home; he had no desire to be thus constantly reminded of the six years he had thrown away among the stone piles in Sweden. He did not wish for a new Korpamoen in America, he had had enough of the old one; they would find a more suitable name for their home in due time—the christening of a piece of land was not so urgent as the christening of a baby; it was, after all, only a patch of earth, not a human soul.
Danjel also felt they ought to change the name of Ki-Chi-Saga. How could they live near a lake with such an outlandish heathen name? Couldn’t they think of some pious Swedish word which a Christian could take in his mouth without distaste? Karl Oskar replied that as he lived on a small arm of the lake, he felt it would be presumptuous for him to change the name of the whole lake. As yet he was the only settler here; when he had neighbors on the shores, they would all think of a new name for Lake Ki-Chi-Saga.
The winter had made it easier for the Swedish settlers to visit back and forth. The frozen snow made a firm road, and they gave each other a hand whenever needed. Ulrika came frequently to the log house at Ki-Chi-Saga to see how her godson fared after his christening. Once she was accompanied by Swedish Anna, and the two women had a violent dispute about sectarians and heretics. Swedish Anna began: “I’m ever thankful to the Lord for saving the child from that Anabaptist
in Stillwater!”
Ulrika flared up and threatened dire happenings if Swedish Anna dared say ill of Pastor Jackson. No one could have anything but good to say about that man; he was so helpful, kind, merciful, that it was hard to believe he was a minister; he had even taken the pail from her hands and fetched water himself. It was nobody’s business what religion he preached, Lutheran or Baptist, Methodist or Jansonist. When a man like Jackson preached, any religion became the right one. Swedish Anna need not bring up the subject again. Ulrika herself had been a sectarian ever since she came to live with Danjel; she would have been happy to have her godson baptized by Jackson in Stillwater, nay, she wouldn’t hesitate for a moment to have such a minister baptize her too!
Swedish Anna started in horror: Ulrika had been led astray from the true Lutheran religion, had been snared already by the Evil One in his heresies! Didn’t she know that only the Lutherans had the right religion and lived according to the Ten Commandments of the stone tablets?
How did the Lutherans live in Sweden! exclaimed Ulrika. God’s commandments were only for paupers and simple folk! The ministers never dared say one word against the nobles, or correct them in any way. If the high and mighty lords broke every one of God’s commandments a hundred times a day, they would never be rebuked from the pulpit. And if the Bishop from Vaxio on his visits to the parishes raped every parsonage maid until the bottom fell out of the bed, not one priest in the whole chapter would object. Yes, if the Swedish King himself should break God’s commandments, and if besides this he were degenerate and committed vices against nature, all the priests would still bow to him, as low as ever, and praise him, and pray for him every Sunday according to the words of the prayer book—even though they knew the truth, for it was the King who gave them the parishes. Such were the Lutheran clergy in Sweden, Ulrika stated, and such they would remain.
But Swedish Anna was a strict Lutheran; the two women could not be friends.
During the Christmas holidays Jonas Petter had gossiped to Kristina that Anders Månsson intended to marry Ulrika of Västergöhl. Next time Ulrika came to visit, Kristina asked her if this were true.
“It’s true. Månsson wants to marry me.”
“May I congratulate you on your luck, Ulrika?”
“No!” exclaimed the Glad One. “I have no intention of marrying Månsson!”
“But he is a good and kind man,” insisted Kristina.
“He’s good and kind. But he isn’t a man. No, he’s not for me.”
Kristina felt sorry in some way for Fina-Kajsa’s son; he had lived alone for so long in this wilderness; and he was sparing with his words, closemouthed, as if carrying a great sorrow. Perhaps he regretted his emigration even though he wouldn’t admit it. Karl Oskar had many times remarked that something must be wrong with Anders Månsson, he had done so little to improve his homestead. He barely managed—this winter he had borrowed thirty dollars from Danjel; having been here almost five years, Månsson ought to have reached a stage when borrowing no longer was necessary—if he had the right stuff in him. There must be some secret about Anders Månsson, Karl Oskar had said, but he was unable to guess what it was.
Ulrika admitted that Fina-Kajsa’s son had been good to all of them when they arrived last summer without a roof over their heads; he was a kindhearted man; and he had a home to offer her. But each time she shook his hand she felt he wasn’t exactly the way men should be. Something was missing, either in his head, or in his spine, or between his legs; something was missing that a man should have. Ulrika said this was only her feeling, but she usually felt aright: she had learned to know menfolk inside and out. Moreover, here in America there were so many men to choose from she needn’t take the first suitor to approach her. She had not been here long, she wanted time to think it over before she chose her man. God would surely help her find the right one when the time came to stand as bride.
But Ulrika had consoled Anders Månsson to the best of her ability. Thus, she had promised never to divulge his rejected proposal, and she had held to her promise—she was not the sort of low person who would brag about being in demand. But Anders Månsson had made the mistake of asking Jonas Petter to intercede for him, and that loose-mouthed gossip had of course not been able to keep it to himself. Jonas Petter also would undoubtedly have proposed to her, if he hadn’t already had a wife in Sweden; she could feel that he was much in need of a woman. Ulrika knew menfolk, she knew them all right. . . .
While the snow crust still held, Karl Oskar, Danjel, and Jonas Petter walked through the forest to Stillwater to register their claims of land. The Swedish settlers used the few English words they had picked up when they reported to the land office that they were squatters within the Minnesota Territory; they were also able to tell in a general way where their claims were located. A man in the office told them that next summer a surveyor would be sent to their part of the forest.
While in Stillwater they also bespoke and paid for seed grain for the coming spring. Karl Oskar spent the last of his cash for rye, barley, and potatoes; the last of the money he got from the sale of his farm and livestock in Sweden was now spent for spring seed, from which he hoped to reap a fall harvest to feed them next winter.
From Stillwater, Danjel and Jonas Petter continued south to St. Paul in order to buy in partnership a yoke of oxen, while Karl Oskar, now without funds, returned home. Five days later his neighbors came back with a pair of young oxen, measuring eleven and a half hands, which they had bought for seventy-five dollars. The animals had been part of a herd, driven from Illinois to St. Paul. They were unbroken and could not yet be used for hauling. Karl Oskar was promised the loan of the team for the spring plowing.
During the walk from St. Paul in the intense cold, Jonas Petter’s nose became frostbitten, and he had had to stay over in Stillwater for a few days to seek a doctor.
The winter was far gone, and the food supply was running low for the settlers at Lake Ki-Chi-Saga. They were near the bottom of the flour barrel, and Kristina reduced their bread rations to one thin slice apiece at every meal. They were now on their last bushel of potatoes, and these too had to be rationed. They still had some frozen venison, and this was not yet rationed. Fresh meat was seldom on the table—the game seemed to have disappeared in the dead of winter. Indians used dogs to hunt, but without a dog a hunter usually returned without game. And Lady, their borrowed cow, had almost gone dry; she gave only half a quart a day.
Fishing, too, had become difficult after the snow had piled high on the lake ice. Earlier in the winter they had caught a great many pike without any fishing gear, using only an ax. They would walk over the clear ice until they espied fish, and then hit the ice above them with the ax hammer; the pike were stunned, turning up their white bellies, and it was easy to break the ice and pull them out. After the snow covered the lake several feet deep, Karl Oskar and Robert had to cut holes through the ice for fishing. It was mostly catfish they caught this way, standing at the holes with their fingers stiff from cold. Catfish had an unpleasant, oily taste, and no one liked them as well as the other lake fish. Robert detested them, with their round, catlike heads, actually purring like cats; after an evening meal of catfish he complained about being unable to sleep—the cat kept purring in his stomach the whole night through!
“Better to have a fish purr in you than to have your stomach purr from emptiness,” answered Karl Oskar.
Kristina boiled the catfish, she fried it, salted it, dried it, made soup from it, she tried in all ways to make it taste good. They ate catfish at almost every meal, it was their only fresh winter food, and when the venison was gone, it would be their only animal food. The fish was ugly to look at, its taste was not appetizing, but Kristina said it would be ungrateful to speak ill of this creature, which had the same Creator as they themselves; hungry people ought to eat without complaint whatever they could find. And the catfish was faithful to them; when everything else on land and in the water failed them, they always had the bearded, pur
ring fish. It came as a gift from God and helped them sustain life through the winter.
Robert’s almanac indicated they were now in February. And each day the settlers asked themselves the same question: How long would it be before the ground grew green? When would the ice break up? How long before spring came?
They had put this question to Anders Månsson, he had spent several years here, he ought to know. He had answered: Spring varied from year to year, it might vary by many weeks. He remembered one spring when the frost had gone out of the ground the last week in March, another year he had not started his plowing until the second week of April. The ice on the St. Croix River usually broke up toward the end of March, and spring in the St. Croix Valley was counted from the day when the river flowed free.
So they must fight the winter, perhaps another two months.
The settlers in the log cabin at Ki-Chi-Saga kept their house warm with their constant fire, they were well protected against the winter weather, no longer were they afraid of the cold; but they began to fear hunger.
—2—
Kristina knew from experience: it was always harder to satisfy a hungry family in winter than in summer. All were hungrier and ate more in winter. During the cold part of the year a human body needed rich, nourishing food to keep the blood active and warm in the body. And as the food grew scarce, her family grew hungrier than any winter before. She too—her stomach ached all day long, she wakened during the nights with the pain. And she was in charge of their food—before she herself ate she must see to it that the others had something on their plates.
At meals she left the table a little before the others or she might be tempted to eat so much that the children would have too little. She was so careful of the flour she hardly dared use a few pinches for gravy; it must be saved for bread. But however she skimped and saved, she could not make the barrel deeper than it was. The time came when she swept the barrel bottom clean to have sufficient flour for a baking. And the moment arrived when the loaves from this baking were eaten. Now she had nothing more to bake with. Now they were breadless.
Unto A Good Land Page 39