Chapter 2
Just outside Starn, Sweden, 1863.
Cupping his mouth, Lars yelled, “That’s the last one, Gunard.”
“Ok, jump up Lars, we are going home.”
Gunard marveled at the strength of his younger brother Lars. His forearms were huge and rippled with muscle developed from years of chopping, sawing and lifting of the heavy timbers they cut each day. Nothing seemed too heavy for him to lift with his powerful legs and back and it seemed he could work at the same pace for the whole day. His rugged face was covered with his winter beard that had a tinge of red. He always had a twinkle in his eye that made one think he was about to pull a prank. Lars was definitely born to be a lumberjack. Gunard usually tired by mid day and would like to take a break but he was shamed into working by Lars’ stamina. If he took a break, Lars’ booming voice and laughter would cause Gunard to stand up and get back to work so his brother wouldn’t look at him in the way one does when they think their partner is shirking their share of their duties. One thing Lars didn’t do well was drive a team of horses. This was always left to Gunard. When their father was still alive and teaching them how to be lumberjacks he had Lars drive the team back to the farm late on a cold blustery afternoon. The wind had kicked up and snow was falling at an alarming rate. The horses were a little nervous and required a steady hand, which Lars didn’t have. The horses bolted and the sled ran off the road and into a ravine. The two horses were unable to pull the sled out by themselves so Gunard and their dad had to go to Gustav Anderson’s farm to borrow his team to help. After that experience, Lars was hesitant to do the driving. He let Gunard do the driving whenever possible.
The sun was beginning to drop in the west and even though the temperature was below freezing, the ice was melting off the trees and dripping onto Gunard’s hat and rolling down his neck. He leaned back in the seat of the sled to avoid getting soaked. Gunard and Lars had worked up a good sweat despite the cold temperature. The horses were prancing in place as they knew it was the time of day they would be heading home to a warm stall and some oats and hay. Gunard and Lars wrapped up in the bear skin they kept in the front of the sled as they headed to Starn to unload the trees they spent the past two days cutting down.
“Hiay, hiay, Gunard called out to the two big Belgian horses pulling the sled. They were going to Swenson’s Sawmill for the last time. There just wasn’t any demand for lumber any more in the whole country of Sweden and Peter Swenson said that he would be closing his sawmill at the end of the month. On the ride back both Gunard and Lars were lost in their thoughts. Gunard was concerned about Lars, his younger brother by five years who had a three year old daughter and another baby on the way. They were at a loss as to what they were going to do. Gunard and his wife had an eight year old boy, Esben. They lost a baby girl at birth five years ago and Corinne was unable to have any more children. It was probably just as well since Gunard was having a difficult time feeding the little family he had. All his brothers and sisters, beside Lars, have at least five children to help them on their farms. But now most land had become fallow and they were looking for something else to do to support their families.
The year was eighteen sixty three and Sweden was still in the middle of the worst recession the country experienced since the sixteen fifties. Poor harvests and unemployment continued to grow and the population continued to rise at an alarming rate. Wages were at the lowest Gunard had seen. People didn’t complain about the low wages much as they were happy to have a job. Gunard and Lars found themselves on the outside looking in, much like their farming friends. Many of them had already left the country and emigrated to America. He and Lars were getting about one half of what they were getting ten years ago for the logs they would bring in to Swenson. They had looked for jobs in Starn and even went as far away as Stockholm hoping something was available but to no avail.
When they finished unloading the trees at the Swenson Mill, Peter Swenson said: “Gunard, there just isn’t any demand for wood. Nobody can afford to build anything. The farmers are losing their farms to the bank. I’ll probably be closing the mill after we sell what we have here. I won’t be buying anymore wood after tomorrow. I am sorry Gunard.”
“I understand Peter. Something has to be done and it doesn’t look like our government can figure out what. There are too many people living in Sweden and our land cannot support everyone. My sister Inger and her husband left for America five years ago and I am considering doing the same.”
“I have thought of doing that myself, but I love my country. My father and mother are buried here. All my family and friends still live here. I just don’t know.”
“I love Sweden as well, but I have to feed my family and I can’t do it here”, Gunard replied.
Gunard and Lars thought that this recession would have been over by now but it seemed like it would go on for quite awhile. It was the rural folks who felt this more than the folks who had jobs in the towns and cities. They were able to hang on, at least for awhile.
“Well, Lars, it looks like we will have to make a decision on what we are going to do to feed our families. Jons Jonsson is holding a meeting Friday night about going to America. It will be held at the little Baptist Church he started. It starts at six and I am going to go to hear what he has to say”, Gunard said.
“Hell, Gunard, Jonsson is a religious fanatic. I don’t want to hear anything he has to say. The Lutheran Church of Sweden as much as told him he had to leave the country.”
All I know is that Jonsson has been writing to Gustav Unonius who started a Swedish settlement in America in a place called New Upsala, in a territory called Wisconsin in eighteen forty one. It is supposed to be beautiful and the soil is black as night. You can grow anything there and there are so many trees you could work every day for the rest of your life and not even come close to cutting them all down.
Inger said that the village they live in, New Glaurus, is in Wisconsin and she said it is not far from New Upsala. She also said the land is so fertile and black and that there are more trees there than in all of Sweden. She said we could stay with them until we could build a place of our own. She said Anders wanted us to come as well.”
“I don’t know, Gunard. I never got along with Anders. Ever since he married Inger he felt like all the Hjerstedts were now Carlsson’s and he was the leader of the clan. I miss our big sister but not Anders. Also, this is our home. I don’t want to leave. I may have to live on reindeer and bear meat, but I want to stay. What did she say, two months on a ship in the middle of the ocean? We’re not Norwegians, Gunard.”
“With that red beard Lars, I’m not so sure about you.”
“I am going to Starn tonight and listen to what Jonsson has to say and then make a decision, Gunard said, and I am going to talk with Corinne about this to see what she wants to do. She received a book on learning the English language from our sister in America and she has been teaching it to Esben for the past few months. He is learning quickly and already speaks it well. Corinne may want to stay here but I think she has pretty much made up her mind to go if that is what I want to do. I know it will be a hard journey on a six year old boy. I just don’t know what kind of future there is here for Esben and I have to consider that.”
“Ah, yes, Esben, Divine Bear. Do you think they have any bears in America?”
“I am sure they do Lars. A country that big has to have lots of them plus they probably have animals we never heard of.”