Wyoming Territory by David V. Hesse - HTML preview

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Chapter 5

Stockholm Sweden

Stockholm, the town between the bridges, is an archipelago, situated on the south central part of Sweden’s east coast where Lake Malaren meets the Baltic Sea. The central part of the city consists of fourteen islands and the center of the city is situated on Riddarfjarden Bay. Over thirty percent of the city is made up of waterways. It is because of these waterways that the city was built as it was a strategic spot for trade within Sweden as well as between nearby countries in the Baltic Sea region. Stockholm’s reason for being has always been to be the Swedish capital and is the largest city in the country.

By the time the Hjerstedts arrived, Stockholm was in the midst of a strong economic growth, as new industries emerged due to the introduction of steam engines which transformed the city into an important trade and service center; such a sharp contrast to the rural part of the country from which the Hjerstedts were fleeing.

They had traveled most of the night and it was still dark as they approached the outskirts of Stockholm when they turned on a street known as Bollhusgrand, near the square and passed a building with the number twenty three painted on the front. It was known as Ahlstroms jungfrubur, The Maiden Cage of Ahlstom. It was bought by a captain Magnus Ahlstrom back in the seventeen hundreds who created a virtual temple of Venus with space for the priestesses on all three floors. Though the brothel made Ahlstrom rich, it resulted in squads of prostitutes with painted faces and gaudy attire, lining the street, nodding at travelers as they passed. The southern extension of Bollhusgrand was home to many more taverns and brothels making for a colorful journey for little Esben

Turning down Helvetesgrand, Alley of Hell, a place of disgrace suitable for criminals and thieves, they saw dark silhouettes of all the ships moored in the bay. One particular freighter stood out from the rest. It was gray and looked dreary and dirty. A group of people were milling on the dock in the vicinity of the ship, their shadows dancing eerily in the flickering glow of the gas lanterns lighting the pier. There must have been at least one hundred and fifty men, women and children all huddled together with their mattresses and blankets in bundles along with pots and pans and knives, forks and spoons sticking out in every direction. They were dressed in shabby gray overcoats and well worn caps and most with a small valise in hand. These people were to be the Hjerstedts fellow travelers to America.

The ship itself was a multi-masted sailing vessel, being square rigged with the fore and aft sails perpendicular to the body of the vessel; it was built for trans-oceanic voyages. It was nothing of beauty, built for transporting iron not passengers. It was constructed of wood and iron armatures which made it thirty to forty per cent lighter than cargo ships made of all wood. It was equipped with a screw driven steam engine that was fueled with coal which was stored astern below deck.

In front of the dock there were a number of peddlers selling steerage necessities such as mattresses, blankets, pots and pans along with plates, knives, forks and spoons and wash basins.

When they arrived at the dock the putrid smells of the dead and rotting fish mixed with human waste and rotting food were nauseating. Corinne pulled a handkerchief from her purse and put it over her nose as she was helped out of the wagon by Gunard. Once they had unloaded their trunk, Lars hugged them all, holding back tears he turned back and stepped up into the wagon, snapping the reins, he clucked to the horses and went back up Helvetesgrand. His retreating back slumped over the front of the wagon was the last thing Esben saw of his uncle.

Corinne grabbed Esben’s hand and Gunard picked up the trunk. As they walked along peddlers approached them trying to sell their wares. Esben buried his face in Corinne’s dress and Gunard waved the peddlers away.

When they were down on the dock with their fellow travelers Gunard asked an older man standing next to them if he knew when they would be able to embark.

“No, that I don’t. Nobody has said anything to us and we have been here for going on three hours already. The crew has been coming by in groups of threes and fours but they don’t think of responding to our questions. We haven’t seen anyone yet who might have some authority. Hopefully soon they will let us board. The little ones are getting anxious and some folks are getting pretty annoyed.”

“Have you seen Jons Jonsson yet?” Gunard asked.

“Nary a hair of the man, the older man replied

The name’s Andresen, Dagmar Andresen, what’s yours?”

“Gunard Hjerstedt and this is my wife Corinne and my boy Esben.”

Andresen nodded and tipped his hat in Corinne’s direction and said: “That’s my wife Jeanne over there with my boy Elmer and his wife Gladys.”

By this time the sun was beginning to creep into the horizon changing the sky from black to a dark blue with streaks of white clouds passing by. A fog was drifting in over the bay and a lone fog horn sounded over the waters. A livery coach could be heard approaching over the cobblestone street coming to a stop in front of the dock.

The driver got down and opened the door and out stepped Jon Jonsson dressed in a top hat and a black coat and pants holding a walking cane and another gentleman dressed in a dark blue coat with a watchman cap on his head. The driver pulled down a trunk from the top of the carriage and started carrying it down the dock and up the plank way onto the freighter.