But the steamer blows her whistle--the bell rings--I must hurry on board. Good-by, dear Finns, big and little, I like you all. G.o.d bless you! Good-by old Abo, with your ancient church, and your moss-grown streets, and deserts of houses--I feel sorry for you, but I can't help it! Good-by, Russia! If I don't call again, attribute it to no want of interest in the great cause of civilization. Just drop me a line and let me know when the serfs are free and a const.i.tutional government is established, and I will strain a point to pay my respects to Alexander II. I rather like the young man, and have an idea that he is capable of n.o.ble deeds and heroic sacrifices. But he must abolish his secret police, punish them for whipping women, open universities upon a liberal basis, throw the camarilla and the aristocracy overboard, quit murdering the poor Poles at Warsaw, and do several other things before he can have my support. Should he accomplish these beneficial reforms, and at any future time think proper to settle in my neighborhood, where the climate is more genial, I shall cheerfully vote for him as mayor of the city of Oakland.

CHAPTER XXIV.

STOCKHOLM.

The pa.s.sage from Abo to Stockholm occupies about eighteen hours, and in fine weather affords a constant succession of agreeable scenes.

With the exception of about four hours of open sea in crossing the Gulf of Bothnia, the steamer is constantly surrounded by islands, many of them highly picturesque, and all interesting from their peculiar geological formation. Occasionally the island winds like a snake through a wilderness of naked granite boulders, round and slippery, and barely high enough out of the water to afford a foundation for a few fishermen's huts, which from time to time break the monotony of their solitude. Sometimes the channel opens out into broad lakes, apparently hemmed in on all sides by pine-covered cliffs; then pa.s.sing between a series of frightful crags, upthrown, as it were, out of the water by some convulsion of nature, the surging waves lash their way through the narrow pa.s.sages, and threaten each moment to ingulf the frail vessel, or dash it to atoms against the rocks. The greatest danger in making this trip arises from the number of sunken rocks, which often approach to within a few feet of the surface without being visible. The depth is usually marked by poles or buoys, and it often happens that the steamer plies her way for hours between these water-marks, where there is no other indication of danger. The Swedish and Finnish pilots are proverbially among the best in the world. We had an old Finn on board--a s.h.a.ggy old sea-dog, rough and weather-beaten as any of the rocks on his own rock-bound coast, who, I venture to say, never slept a wink during the entire pa.s.sage, or if he did, it was all the same. He knew every rock, big and little, visible and invisible, that lay on the entire route between Abo and Stockholm, and could see them all with his eyes shut. An uncouth, hardy, honest old monster was this Finn--a Caliban of a fellow, half human, half fish--with a great sou'wester on his head, a rough monkey-jacket b.u.t.toned around his body, and a pair of boots on his legs that must have been designed for wading over coral reefs, through seas of swordfish, shovel-nosed sharks, and unicorns. His broad, honest face looked for all the world like a granite boulder covered with barnacles and sea-weed, and ornamented by a bunch of mussels for a nose, and a pair of shining blue pebbles by way of eyes; and when he spoke, which was not often, his voice sounded like the keel of a fishing-smack grating over a bank of gravel. I strongly suspect his father was a sea-lion and his mother a grampus or scragg whale, and that he was fished up out of the sea when young by some hardy son of Neptune, and subsequently trained up in the ways of humanity on board a fishing-smack, where the food consisted of polypi, lobsters, and black bread. Yet there was something wonderfully genial about this old pilot. He chewed enormous quant.i.ties of tobacco, the stains of which around his mouth greatly improved the beauty of his countenance; and when he was not chewing pigtail he was smoking it, which equally contributed to soften the asperities of his features. Having sailed in many seas, he spoke many languages, but none very intelligibly, owing to some radical defect in the muscles of his mouth. As to the channel between Abo and Stockholm, which lies partly through the Aland Islands and numerous adjacent rocks, above and below water, I believe he had traveled over it so often that he could steer a vessel through it standing backward as readily as box the compa.s.s, or shut both his eyes and tell where the deepest water lay by the smell of the air and the taste of his tobacco.

The pa.s.sage across the Gulf of Bothnia was somewhat rough, and most of the pa.s.sengers were sea-sick, owing, no doubt, to the short chopping motion which prevails on board of all kinds of sea-going vessels in these inland seas. Having performed various voyages in various parts of the world, I was, of course, exempt from this annoyance; but my digestion had been impaired in Russia by the vast quant.i.ty of tea, cuc.u.mbers, veal, cabbage-soup, and other horrible mixtures which I had been forced to consume while there, and which now began to tell on my const.i.tution. Notwithstanding repeated doses of cognac, taken from time to time as I walked the decks, the sea began to whirl all round, the clouds overhead to swing about at random through the rigging, and the odor of the machinery to produce the strongest and most disagreeable sensations. I went below to see how things looked there; but, finding the atmosphere dense and the prospect gloomy, returned in great haste and looked over the bulwarks to see how fast we were going through the water. While thus engaged, an amusing thought occurred to me. Suppose the mermaids who lie down in the briny depths form their ideas of the beauty of the human countenance from the casual glimpses thus afforded of our features, would it be possible for the most susceptible of them to fall in love with us? The idea was so droll that I was almost convulsed with laughter; but, not wishing to attract attention by laughing aloud at my own thoughts, I merely clung to the bulwarks and doubled myself up, trying to avoid the appearance of eccentricity. At or about the same moment, the old Finnish pilot, with whom I had formed an acquaintance, came along, and said good-naturedly, "h.e.l.lo, sir! I d.i.n.k you pe sea-sick." "Sea-sick?" said I, a little nettled. "Oh no, Herr Pilot, I'm an old sailor, and never get sea-sick." "Vel, I dought you was sick--you look bad, sir,"

answered the good old pilot; "de sea is very rough, sir." Here the steamer took a notion to pitch down into the water and jump up again suddenly, and then rolled on one side and then on the other, and at the same time a number of the pa.s.sengers began to make grotesque and disagreeable noises, which amused me so much that I had to turn away my face and look at the water again to avoid laughing. "Sir," said the old pilot, who observed the contortions of mirth by which I was moved, "vil you have some schnapps? I d.i.n.k schnapps is goot for de sea-sick."

"Thank you," said I, the tears streaming from my eyes, "I won't have any just now." "Vel, 'twon't last long, any how," suggested the good-natured monster. "By'm-by we be up to Vaxholm--in pout two hours.

Dere's land! Don't you see it?" I saw it, and right glad I was too, for it is always refreshing to see land from the deck of a steamer. In half an hour more we entered a smooth stretch of water, and soon the wood-covered islands and sh.o.r.es of Sweden were close ahead.

Pa.s.sing the fortress of Waxholm, we entered the magnificent fjord or arm of the sea which extends for a distance of ten or twelve miles up to the city. The scenery on this part of the route is very fine. All along the sh.o.r.es of the main land and adjacent islands rugged cliffs of granite reared their h.o.a.ry crests over the waters of the fjord.

Forests of oak and pine cover the rolling background, and beautiful villas, with parterres and blooming gardens, peep from every glen.

Sometimes for miles the solitude of the forests and rock-bound sh.o.r.es is unbroken, save by an occasional fisherman's hut or an open patch of green pasture; then suddenly, upon turning a point, a group of red-roofed villas glimmer through the foliage; sail-boats are seen gliding over the water with gay companies of ladies and gentlemen from the city enjoying the fresh breeze that sweeps up from the Gulf; now a hay-boat or a clumsy lugger laden with wood drifts along lazily toward the grand centre of trade; and as we approach nearer to the dim smoke-cloud that hangs over the city, big and little craft gather thicker and thicker before us, till the whole fjord seems alive with masts and sails. Soon the outlines of the churches and castles break through the dim distance, and, like some grand optical illusion, the whole city gradually opens up before us.

To say that I was charmed with the first view of Stockholm would but faintly express the feelings with which I gazed upon this beautiful metropolis of the North. Though different in almost every essential particular, it has been not unaptly compared to Venice; and certainly, if the sparkling waters from which it seems to rise, the wood-covered islands, the rich and varied outlines of its churches and castles, the forests of shipping at its wharves, the many-colored sail-boats and gondolas sweeping hither and thither, the glowing atmosphere, and surrounding gardens, villas, temples, and pavilions, can ent.i.tle it to that distinction, Stockholm well deserves to rank with the Queen City of the Adriatic.

The landing for the Baltic steamers is at the head quay called the Skepsbron, which in summer is well lined with shipping, and presents rather an animated appearance. Very little formality is observed in regard to the baggage of pa.s.sengers, and pa.s.sports are not required, or at least no demand was made upon me for mine. All I had to do was to show my knapsack to the custom-house officer, who put a chalk-mark upon it, signifying, no doubt, that it contained nothing contraband; after which I stepped ash.o.r.e, and, aided by a friendly fellow-pa.s.senger, found lodgings at a dirty little hotel close by, called the "Stadt Frankfort." If there is any worse place to be found in Stockholm, it must be the very worst on the face of the earth, for the "Stadt Frankfort" is next thing to it. Being dirty and foul of smell, and abounding in vermin, of course the charges are, as usual in such cases, proportionally high, for which reason I recommend it to any gentleman traveling in this direction whose main object is to get rid of his money for an equivalent of filth, fleas, bugs, bad bread, and worse coffee. The main part of the city, embracing the King's Palace, the Bourse, the Church of St. Nicholas, the Barracks and public buildings, is built upon an island fronting the Baltic on the one side and the Malar Lake on the other. This is the most populous and interesting part, though the streets are narrow and irregular, and the houses generally old and dilapidated, with dark, gloomy fronts, and a very fishy and primitive expression of countenance. The new parts of the city, called the Normalm to the north and the Sodmalm to the south, which are connected with the island by bridges, have some fine streets and handsome rows of buildings in the modern style, especially the Normalm, which contains the King's Garden, the a.r.s.enal, the Opera-house, and the princ.i.p.al hotels and residences of the foreign ministers. This part of Stockholm will compare favorably with second or third-rate cities in Germany; for it must be borne in mind that, striking as the external aspect of Stockholm is, the interior is very far from sustaining the illusion of grandeur cast around it by the scenic beauties of its position. In nothing is the traveler more disappointed than the almost total absence of business excitement. With the exception of a few stevedores at work on the wharves and a trifling jostle at the market-places, the whole city seems to be sitting down in its Northern solitude, waiting, like Mr. Micawber, for something to turn up. In some parts one may walk half a mile without hearing a sound save the echo of his own footsteps. It is, emphatically, a "slow"

place--so slow, indeed, compared with the marts of commerce to which I had been accustomed in California (especially the city of Oakland), that I was constantly impressed with the idea that every body was fast asleep, and that if three or four of them should happen to wake at the same time, it would be fearfully startling to hear their eyelids crack open and the hollow streets echo to their yawns.

But don't understand this as a reflection upon the Swedish race. They are industrious and energetic when occasion requires, but, like all people who live at the extreme North, acquire tropical habits of indolence from the climate. During the tedious winters, when the days are but six hours long, all who can afford it become torpid, like frogs, and lie up in their houses till the summer sun thaws them out.

b.a.l.l.s, parties, and sleigh-riding occasionally rouse them up, but lethargy is the general rule. The warm weather comes very suddenly, and then the days are eighteen hours long. This being the season of outdoor pleasure, it is spent in visits to the country or lounging about the gardens, sitting on spring benches and enjoying the sunshine.

The Swedish soldiers are a fine-looking race of men, far superior in stature and general appearance to the soldiers of Russia. They are well drilled, bold, and manly, and have fine faces, full of spirit and intelligence. Wherever these men are led, they will now, as in past times, give the enemies of their country some trouble. I consider them the finest soldiers in Northern Europe.

The general aspect of the citizens of Stockholm is that of extreme plainness and simplicity. I take them to be an honest, substantial, and reliable people, well educated and intelligent; satisfied with themselves and the world, and proud of their country and its history.

Politeness is a national characteristic. Every person, of high and low degree, upon entering a shop, takes off his hat, and remains with uncovered head while making his purchase. Gentlemen who meet on the street knock the tops of their "tiles" against their knees, and continue to bow at each other long after they have pa.s.sed. In feature and general appearance the Swedes are handsomer than the southern races of Europe, and for that reason wear a nearer resemblance to the Americans. I saw several men in Stockholm who would not have done discredit to California, in point of fine faces and commanding figures. The Swedish ladies are proverbially beautiful. It was really refreshing, after my visit to Russia, to see so many pretty women as I met here. Light hair, oval features, sparkling blue eyes, and forms of intoxicating grace and beauty--ah me! why should such dangers be permitted to threaten the defenseless traveler with instant destruction, when the law provides for his protection against other disasters by land and sea, a.s.sault and battery, false imprisonment and highway robbery? Yet here were lovely creatures, gliding about at large, shooting mutilation and death out of their bright blue eyes, and apparently as indifferent to the slaughter they committed as if it were the finest fun in the world! Talk of your French beauties, your Italian beauties, your Spanish beauties! Give me, for the impersonation of soul expressed in the human form divine--for features "woven from the music of the spheres and painted with the hues of the aurora borealis"--a Swedish beauty, the nearest approach upon earth to an American beauty, which, being altogether angelic, must ever remain the highest type of perfection known to mankind.

I don't wonder Swedenborg made so many heavens for his female characters. His "conjugal felicity" required at least seven. One small heaven, constructed upon the Swedish plan, would certainly afford but limited accommodations for all the beauties of Stockholm.

A day or two after my arrival in Stockholm I called to Mr. Fristadius, the American consul, from whom I obtained the latest news in reference to the progress of the rebellion. Accustomed as we are in the United States to read the newspapers every morning, wherever we may happen to be, the deprivations in this respect to which an American traveler in Europe is subjected must be experienced to be fully appreciated.

Even in the princ.i.p.al cities of Germany it is difficult to find a newspaper that contains any thing more than a notice of the price of stocks, a few telegraphic items about the petty court movements of neighboring cities, a rehash of slander upon our country from the London _Times_, or an item of news about the war, in which the states are misplaced, the names misspelled, and the most important points omitted. I do not think there is a village press in California that would not be ashamed to turn out such trashy little sheets as are issued in Frankfort; and as for the matter of fairness and honesty, it is rare to find an independent newspaper in any part of Europe. To suppress truth and subserve some military or financial interest is the business for which they are paid. Making due allowance for party prejudices, you may guess at the truth in most of our American journals, but it would be a waste of time to search for it in the newspapers published on this side of the water. While they studiously refrain from indecorous language, they are corrupt and unreliable beyond any thing known in California, and have not even the merit of being energetic and entertaining liars. This is the case in Russia and Finland as well as in Germany. Where the press is subjected to a rigid censorship, it is of course useless to look for reliable information, and as for late intelligence, it does not travel through official bureaus. Before leaving Frankfort I had news to the 28th of June. A week after my arrival at St. Petersburg the same news was promulgated in that city. On my return from Moscow I had the pleasure of reading the details in an American newspaper. One or two mutilated telegraphic dispatches seemed to sharpen my appet.i.te during the trip to Revel, Helsingfors, Abo, and Stockholm; and now, arrived at the head-quarters of Swedish civilization, after searching in vain for a late English or American newspaper at the princ.i.p.al cafes, I was compelled to make application to our consul, in the faint hope that he might be an occasional reader of that ephemeral species of literature.

Fortunately, Mr. Fristadius had spent some time in the United States, and learned to appreciate the magnitude and importance of the struggle in which we were engaged.

I had the pleasure, during my sojourn in Stockholm, of getting a glimpse of Swedish social life in one of its most agreeable phases.

Mr. Fristadius, who is a Swede by birth and education, and occupies a prominent position as one of the leading iron-merchants of Stockholm, was kind enough to invite me to an entertainment at his villa, situated about four miles from the city, on one of the prettiest little islands in the Malar Lake.

At an early hour in the afternoon, the company, which consisted of thirty or forty ladies and gentlemen, a.s.sembled by appointment at a wharf near one of the princ.i.p.al bridges, where a small steam-boat belonging to Mr. Fristadius was in waiting. I was a little astonished, not to say taken aback, at the display of elegant dresses, liveried servants, and white kid gloves that graced the occasion, and looked at my dusty and travel-worn coat, slouched hat, and sunburnt hands--for which there was no remedy--with serious thoughts of a hasty retreat.

One doesn't like to be a savage among civilized people; yet, if one undertakes to travel with little baggage and less money, what can he do, unless he holds himself aloof from the world altogether, which is not the best way of seeing it? There was no time for reflection, however; the whistle was blowing, and we were hurried on board by our kind host, who seemed determined to make every body as happy as possible. The trip down the lake was delightful. On either side the hills and islands were dotted with villas and gardens; sail-boats were skimming over the water with gay parties intent on pleasure; the views of the city from every turn were picturesque beyond description, and the weather was quite enchanting. As we swept along on our course, the gentlemen of the party, who were nearly all Swedes, united in a wild and beautiful Scandinavian glee, the mellow strains of which swept over the water, and were echoed from the wooded islands and sh.o.r.es of the lake with a magnificent effect. Whether it was the scenery, the weather, or the singing, or all combined, I could scarcely tell, but this little trip was certainly an episode in life to be remembered with pleasure in after years. In about half an hour we drew near a perfect little Paradise of an island, upon which, half hidden in shrubbery and flowers, stood the villa of our friend, Mr. Fristadius.

Here were winding graveled walks overhung by rich foliage; beds of flowers in full bloom; grottoes of rock laved by the waters of the lake; immense boulders of granite surmounted by rustic pavilions; hedges of privet and hawthorn to mark the by-paths; a miniature bridge from the main island across to a smaller island, upon which stood an aquatic temple for the fishing-boats and gondolas; with a wharf jutting out into the deep water at which the little steam-boat landed.

Nothing could be more unique than the whole place. Nature and art seemed to have united to give it the most captivating effects of wildness, seclusion, comfort, and elegance. It was Crusoe-life idealized. As we approached the landing-place, the interesting family of our host, surrounded by numerous friends, stood upon a little eminence awaiting our arrival. While we gazed with pleasurable emotions at the pretty scene before us, a most delicate and appropriate compliment was paid to our excellent minister, Mr.

Haldeman, and his accomplished wife, who were of the party. The American flag was hoisted upon a pole near the landing by Mrs.

Fristadius, and the company with one accord arose and greeted with three cheers this glorious emblem of liberty. I shall never forget the mingled feelings of pride and pleasure with which I looked upon the stars and stripes once more, after months of dreary depression in countries where freedom is but a glimmering hope in the human heart.

But here in Sweden the spirit of our inst.i.tutions is appreciated; here I found myself surrounded by n.o.ble and trusty friends of the American Union, loyal to their own liberal government, yet devoted to the great cause of human freedom wherever it can exist consistently with the progress of the times and the capacity of the people for self-government. As the flag waved in the breeze, an inspiring song of liberty burst from the joyous company--one of those soul-stirring songs of Belman, which find a response in the breast of every Swede--wild, impa.s.sioned, and patriotic, breathing in every word and intonation the chivalrous spirit of men whose ancestry had fought under the glorious banners of Gustavus Adolphus.

As soon as the song was concluded the little steam-boat drew up to the wharf, where we were most kindly and cordially greeted by the family of our host. After a pleasant ramble about the grounds we proceeded to the house, which is situated on a picturesque eminence overlooking the lake, and the adjacent sh.o.r.es and islands. Here, in a large and elegant saloon, opening on all sides upon a s.p.a.cious veranda, a sumptuous collation was spread. The company lounged about without ceremony, eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves as they pleased; wit and wine flowed together, unrestrained by the slightest formality.

In the midst of our "feast of reason and flow of soul," Mr. Fristadius made a neat and appropriate little speech of "welcome to all his friends," which was followed by a song from the musical gentlemen; after which he proposed a toast to a young married couple present.

This was followed by another song. Then there was a toast to the American flag, another speech and a song, to which Mr. Haldeman, our minister, responded in such terms of enthusiasm and complimentary allusion to the Swedish nation that there was a general outburst of applause. I had hoped, in view of my rustic garb, to escape notice, and was snugly barricaded in a corner behind a table, looking on quietly and enjoying the scene, when, to my great astonishment, a toast was proposed "to the DISTINGUISHED TRAVELER FROM CALIFORNIA!"

In vain I looked about me to see if any prominent gentleman of my acquaintance from California would step forward and answer to the summons, when I was gently but firmly captured by our host, and duly brought forth to respond to the charge! Never having made a speech in my life, I could only seize hold of a wine-gla.s.s (which I think belonged to somebody else), and in the confusion of the moment drink spontaneously to the great traveler from California! Then there was an inspiring glee from the lively young gentlemen who did the music.

Thus pa.s.sed the time till dinner was over, when we adjourned to the garden for coffee and cigars. Seated under the wide-spreading trees, in the balmy air of this summer evening, we had songs and recitations of Scandinavian poetry, anecdotes, and humorous dissertations till nearly midnight. I do not remember that I ever partic.i.p.ated in a more rational or delightful entertainment. After a farewell glee to our host we marched down to the wharf, where the boat was in waiting, and embarked for Stockholm. I can only add that I was charmed with the refinement and intelligence of Swedish society, as far as I could judge of it by this casual glimpse. From many of the guests I received cordial invitations to prolong my sojourn, and the next morning found two or three of the gentlemen in readiness to show me every thing of interest about the city.

We visited the Museum, where there is an interesting a.s.sortment of Scandinavian antiquities, and the palace, and some half a dozen other places, all of which came in the regular routine of sight-seeing; but the fact is, I am getting dreadfully tired of this systematic way of lionizing the cities of Europe. I turn pale at the sight of a museum, shudder at a church, feel weak in the knees at the bare thought of a picture-gallery, and as for antiquities, they make my flesh creep.

Between you and myself, dear reader, I wouldn't give a sou-markee for all the old bones gathered up during the last eighteen centuries, unless to start a bone-mill and sell the dust at a remunerative profit.

After all, the more I saw of Stockholm the more the blues began to creep over me. It is depressingly slow in these far Northern cities; so slow, indeed, I don't wonder every thing has a mildewed and sepulchral aspect. The houses look like slimy tombs in a grave-yard; the atmosphere, when the sun does not happen to shine--which is more than half the time--is dank and flat, and hangs upon one's spirits like a nightmare, crushing out by degrees the very germ of vitality. I am not surprised that paralysis and hip-disease are frightfully prevalent in Stockholm.

Give me California forever--the land of sunshine and progress. I have seen no country like it yet. When I think of old times there, a terrible home-sickness takes possession of me. So help me, friends and fellow-citizens, I'd sooner be a pack-mule in California with a raw back, and be owned by a Mexican greaser, employed week in and week out in carrying barrels of whisky over the Downieville trail, fed on three grains of barley per day, and turned out to browse on quartz rock and sage-bushes every night--I'd rather be a miserable little burro, kicked and cuffed by a Mariposa Chinaman--I'd rather be a dog and bay the moon in the city of Oakland, or a toad and feed upon the vapors of a dungeon at San Quentin--I'd rather be a lamp-post on the corner of Montgomery Street, San Francisco, and be leaned against, and hugged, and kissed alternately by every loafer out of the Montgomery saloon--I'd rather be any of these than a human being compelled to live permanently in Europe, with a palace in every city, town, and village, and an income of fifty thousand dollars a day to defray expenses; so don't be surprised if I should turn up again one of these fine mornings on the Pacific coast. The only difficulty at present is--a collapse in the financial department.

CHAPTER XXV.

WALKS ABOUT STOCKHOLM.

If you expect any very lively or striking pictures of Stockholm from a tourist like myself, whose besetting trouble in life is a const.i.tutional melancholy, I am afraid you will be disappointed. It is beyond doubt one of the most agreeable cities in the North, and, so far as public inst.i.tutions are concerned, affords a fine field of research for the antiquarian and the naturalist. Any enterprising gentleman who desires to improve his mind by the study of Puffendorf can here find the original. Linnaeus, Berzelius, and others will materially a.s.sist him in grasping at the mysteries of animated creation; and if he be of a poetical turn, he can enjoy Belman in the unadulterated Scandinavian metre. For me, however, the public museums and libraries possessed only an external interest. I would gladly have devoted the remainder of my life to Scandinavian researches, but, having several other important matters to attend to, I was reluctantly forced to give up the idea. The main object at present was to escape from "an eternal lethargy of woe," which seemed to grow worse and worse every day. I really had nothing particular to afflict me, yet I both felt and looked like "a man sore acquaint with grief." Day after day I wandered about the streets in search of excitement. All in vain; such a luxury is unknown to strangers in Stockholm. I visited the fruit-markets, jostled about among the simple and kind-hearted peasants, bought bunches of cherries and baskets of raspberries from the pretty peasant-girls, and then stood eating my way into their acquaintance, while they laughed, and talked, and wondered where in the world such a strange man came from, and when I told them I came from California they looked incredulous, having probably never of such a country. Then I strolled down through the fish-market, where there were a great many queer fish exposed for sale by ancient and slimy old men and women, whose hands and ap.r.o.ns were covered with fish-scales, and whose faces had a very fishy expression. They offered me fish in every shape--skinned, gutted, chopped up, or whole, just as I pleased to buy them. One wrinkled old woman, with a voice much broken by shouting against the Gulf storms from high rocks, or some such cause, called my attention to a monster fish that must have weighed at least sixty pounds, and insisted upon letting me have it at a reduced price.

I shook my head and smiled. In that smile I suppose the sagacious old fishwoman discovered the pliancy of my disposition, for she immediately commenced a wild harangue on the merits of the fish, scarcely a word of which I understood. Two or three times I started to leave, but each time she made a motion to detain me. The fact is, I was afraid she would get hold of me with her fishy hands, and was considerably embarra.s.sed what to do. The price of the fish was reasonable enough--only two marks (about forty cents); but I had no use for it, and did not like to carry it to my hotel. The worst of it was, the old woman thought the price was the only obstacle, and finally came down to a mark and a half. What was to be done? From Billingsgate to Stockholm, it is notorious that a disappointed fishwoman is a very dangerous and uncertain foe to be encountered by any man, however brave. She began to get excited at the bare prospect of having taken so much trouble for nothing. Several of her friends began to gather round. A cold tremor ran through my frame. There seemed to be no possible way of evading the purchase without creating an unpleasant scene. To make an end of it, I bought the fish. With a bunch of gra.s.s wrapped around its tail, I made my way through the crowd. To be sure, I felt a little ashamed to be perambulating the streets of a strange city with a big fish in my hand, yet I could not well throw it down on the sidewalk, and was afraid, if I offered it to some little boy, he might stick his tongue in his cheek, and ask me if I saw any thing green in the corner of his eye. The case was getting worse and worse every moment. People stopped and looked at me as I pa.s.sed. My arm was getting tired. Fortunately, I was close to the quay. A happy thought struck me; I walked over to the water's edge and cast the fish into his native element. "Go," said I, in the language of my uncle Toby; "there's room enough in the world for you and me."

What the by-standers thought of the act I did not wait to see. It was enough that I was clear of a very unpleasant companion, though an ancient and fish-like odor remained with me for some time after. As for the fish, I doubt if he ever came to life; he must have been dead for several days when I bought him, judging by a taint upon my hands, which the best soap could not eradicate.

After this I rambled gloomily along the quays, and wondered what every body was waiting for. There were small vessels enough lying at the wharves, but every body on board seemed to be taking it easy. Cooks were lying asleep on the galleys; skippers were sitting on the p.o.o.p, smoking socially with their crews; small boys, with red night-caps on their heads, were stretched out upon the hatchways, playing push-pin, and eating crusts of black bread; stevedores, with dusty sacks on their shoulders, were lounging about on the wharf, waiting for something in the way of trade to turn up; shabby citizens, who seemed to be out of profitable employment, were sitting on the loose timbers overlooking the water, bobbing for fish, and never catching any so far as I could perceive; and scattering crowds of idlers were strolling idly along like myself, in search of something particular to look at, but, failing to discover it, they looked about at things generally, and then strolled on to look at something else. I sighed at the stagnation of business, and hoped it would never be my fate to be engaged in mercantile affairs in Stockholm. Before the Gotha Ca.n.a.l was completed this was a very brisk city; but since that period, Gottenburg, being more accessible, has monopolized much of the European trade. The princ.i.p.al trade of Stockholm now consists of exports of iron, and imports of sugar, coffee, and liquors. Throughout the interior the peasantry manufacture most of the articles required for their own use, such as clothing, implements of husbandry, etc., so that they are not large consumers of foreign commodities. Finding it very dull in town, I walked out in the suburbs, which are pretty and picturesque, though primitive enough to be a thousand miles from a commercial city. The houses are chiefly constructed of wood, painted yellow, with red roofs, and neatly ornamented with verandas; and the people have a quaint and simple look, as if they knew but little of the world, and did not care much to trouble their heads about the progress of events. Here as well as elsewhere, children continue to be born in great numbers, and groups of them were to be seen before every house playing in the mud just as little cotton-headed children play all over the world. I say cotton-headed, because these were of the blue-eyed, white-haired race who have a natural affinity for muddy places, and whose cheeks have a natural propensity to gather bloom and dirt at the same time.

I struck out on the high points of the Normalm, and on one of them discovered an old church, surrounded by trees, with benches conveniently placed beneath their shade for weary pedestrians. Here were family groups quietly enjoying the fresh air, the men smoking and drinking, while the women and girls economized time by knitting and sewing. I took a vacant seat and looked down over the city. Surely a prettier prospect could not exist upon earth. There lay the city of the sea outspread beneath, its irregular streets, quaint old houses and churches covering every available s.p.a.ce; the numerous wooded islands in the vicinity dotted with villas; sloops and boats floating dreamily on the Malar Lake, and larger vessels gliding over the waters of the Baltic; dense forests of pine dim in the distance; and over all a strangely colored Northern light, that gave the scene something of a spectral aspect. Yet the spirit of repose that seemed cast over this fair scene was absolutely oppressive to one like myself, accustomed to an active life. From the high points I wandered down into the low places, through narrow and tortuous streets; gazed into the stables and cow-houses; watched the tinners, and coppersmiths, and shoemakers as they wound up the labors of the day in their dingy little shops; peered into the greasy little meatshops and antiquated grocery-stores; studied the faces of the good people who slowly wended their way homeward, and bowed to several old ladies out of pure kindliness and good feeling; then wandered back into the public places, still pursued by a green and yellow melancholy. I gazed steadfastly at the statues of Gustavus Vasa, Charles XII., and Berzelius, and tried in vain to remember something of their history. I went into the picture-shops, took off my hat to small boys behind the counter, looked at the pictures, and bought several, for which I had no earthly use; then I went to the cafe on the bridge, drank coffee and cognac, and attempted to read the Swedish newspapers, of which I understood every letter, but not a word; after which I heard the whistle of a small steam-boat at the end of the cafe garden, and ran down in a hurry to get on board. The steam-boat was about equal to a good-sized yawl, and was bound for some port unknown to me; but that made no difference. I never see a boat of any kind going any where, or a locomotive, or a carriage, or any thing that moves by steam, sails, horse-power, or electricity, without feeling an unconquerable desire to be off too, so that I very much fear, if I should come across a convict vessel bound for Van Diemen's Land, it would be impossible for me to avoid jumping on board and going with the crowd. In the present case it was essentially necessary that I should keep moving. I was almost sinking under the oppressive loneliness of the place. Rather than remain another hour within the limits of such a dreary old city, I would have taken pa.s.sage in a tread-mill, and relied upon the force of imagination to carry me to some other place. Nay, a hangman's cart on the way to the gallows would have presented a strong temptation. In saying this I mean nothing disrespectful to Birger Jarl, who founded Stockholm, and made it his place of residence in 1260; nor to Christina Gyllenstierna, who so heroically defended it against Christian II. of Denmark in the sixteenth century; nor to Gustavus Vasa, the brave liberator of Sweden; nor his n.o.ble and heroic grandson, Gustavus Adolphus; nor any body else famous in Swedish history; but the truth of it is, Sweden at the present day is essentially a home country, and the people are too domestic in their habits and modes of thought to afford any peculiar interest to a casual tourist. I like their simple and genial manners, and respect them for their sterling integrity, yet these are traits of no great value to one who travels so far out of the world in search of objects of more stirring interest. The ordinary traveler, who has no time to dive very deep beneath the surface of human life, is not satisfied to find things nearly as he finds them at home; streets, shops, and houses undistinguished by any peculiarity save the inconveniences and oddities of age; people every where around him who dress like all other civilized people, and possess the standard virtues and weaknesses of humanity; the proprieties of life decently observed, and loyalty to forms and time-honored usages a national characteristic. A Swede would no more violate a rule of etiquette, smile or bow out of place, eat a beefsteak or drink his schnapps at an unusual hour, or strike out any thing novel or original in the way of pleasure, profit, or enterprise, than a German. The court circle is the most formal in Europe, and the upper cla.s.ses of society are absolute slaves to conventionality. A presentation at court is an event of such signal importance that weeks of preparation are required for the impressive ordeal; and when the tailor, and shoemaker, and the jeweler have done their part, and the unhappy victim, all bedeviled with finery and befrogged with lace, is brought into the presence of royalty, it is a miracle if he gets through without committing some dire offense against the laws of etiquette. Fine carriages, coats of arms, uniforms, and badges of office, are held in high veneration; and while the government is liberal and the people profess to be independent, their slavish devotion to rank, dress, and etiquette surpa.s.ses any thing I saw in Russia. With this, to be sure, is mingled a certain simplicity of manner and kindliness of expression toward inferiors which sometimes lead the stranger to believe that he is among a democratic people, but they are as far from democracy as the Prussians or the Austrians. The very affability of the superior to the inferior is the best evidence of the inseparable gulf that lies between them.

In Russia there is the charm of barbarism, savagery, filth, and show; the people are loose, ferocious, daring, and wild; here in Sweden, the quiet, decent, home-aspect of the people, their rigid observance of the rules of etiquette, their devotion to royalty, law, and order, are absolutely depressing. In the abstract, many traits in their character are worthy of admiration, but as a traveler I detest this kind of civilization. Give me a devil or a savage at all times, who outrages the rules of society and carries an advertis.e.m.e.nt of character on his back. As an artist I can make something of him, either in the way of copy or pencil-sketches.

Which brings me back to my situation, in the natural course of events.

The whistle blows. The little steam-boat is about to stop at the landing-place of the Djurgaard. The engineer, s.m.u.tty and oily with hard service, gives a turn to the crank, pulls an iron bar with a polished handle, and then pushes it; the tea-kettle boiler fizzes and whizzes, and lets off steam; the paddles stop paddling; the gentlemen pa.s.sengers stand up and adjust their shirt collars; the ladies gather their shawls around them, and pick up their scattered bundles; with a whirl and a jerk we are alongside the wharf, and the captain jumps from the bow with a rope in his hand, and makes all fast to a logger-head. And now step ash.o.r.e, if you please, ladies and gentlemen, and let us take a stroll through the deer garden, where

"The ash and warrior oak Cast anchor in the rifted rock."

The walks through this beautiful park (said to be the finest attached to any capital in Europe) are broad, and handsomely graded. Grand old forest-trees on either side make "a boundless contiguity of shade"

over the greensward. Pavilions and rustic summer-houses stand on the high points of rock, commanding magnificent views of the adjacent islands and waters of the lake. Flower-gardens are numerous, and every nook and dell contains some place of refreshment, where the gay company who frequent these delightful grounds in the long summer evenings can drink their tea and enjoy the varied beauties of the scene. Wandering through these sylvan glades, the eye is continually charmed with the rare combinations of natural and artificial beauties scattered around in every direction with such wonderful prodigality.

At one moment you imagine yourself in a wilderness, hundreds of miles from any human habitation, so dense are the shades of the grand old forest-trees, and so wild and rugged the moss-covered rocks; a few steps bring you suddenly upon some fairy scene, where palaces and temples, gilded carriages, gayly-dressed companies of ladies and gentlemen, and groups of children sporting upon the gra.s.s, dispel the illusion. Ascending to the highest points by the narrow and tortuous by-paths, I could almost fancy myself in the midst of the Coast Range, so perfect was the isolation; then coming out suddenly upon some projecting cliff, the change of scene from rugged grandeur to the perfection of civilization was absolutely magical. Vegetation in this northern region, where the summer are so short and warm, flourishes with an almost tropical luxuriance. The melting of the snows in spring, followed by heavy rains and sudden heat, causes the earth to give forth its products with a prodigality that compensates in some degree for the long and dreary winters. Trees burst into leaf as if by magic; flowers shoot up and bloom in a few weeks; the gra.s.s, enriched by the snows, springs forth and covers the earth like a gorgeous carpet of velvet. All nature rejoices in the coming of the long summer days. The birds sing in the groves; the bees hum merrily around the flowers; the gay b.u.t.terflies flit through the sunbeams; and day and night are an almost continued period of revelry for all those beautiful and ephemeral creatures that droop and die with the flowers.

I have nowhere seen such a profusion of intensely rich green and such wonderfully deep shades as in the neighborhood of Stockholm. It is almost oppressive to one accustomed to California scenery, where the whole face of the country wears a dry red-and-yellowish hue in summer.

Strange how one's tastes change by a.s.sociation! I well remember when I first entered the Golden Gate, in August, 1849, after a long and dreary voyage round Cape Horn. Glad as I was to see land once more, it struck me that I had never looked upon so barren and desolate a country. The hill-sides had the appearance of parched and sodless deserts. Yet I soon learned to like that warm glow. I slept upon those parched hills, breathed the invigorating air, and felt the inspiration of California life. I would not now exchange the summer drapery of our hills and valleys for the deepest green upon earth. To my present frame of mind there is something flat and chilling in this redundancy of verdure that reminds one of death and the grave-yard. The moss-covered rocks jutting from the cold, gra.s.sy earth; the dripping fern; the pale, flitting gleams of sunshine struggling through the depths of foliage; the mould that seems to hang in the air--all these strike me as death-like. I long for the vital glow of a more genial sun, whose all-pervading light is reflected from the rich golden earth, shooting health and vigor through every fibre of the frame, permeating body and soul with its effulgence. Such intensity of light, such warmth of colors, fill the dullest mind with inspiration; the blood is quickened in its circulation; the respiration is full and free; the intellect becomes clearer and sharper; the whole man is quickened into the highest condition of mental and physical vitality.

Is it a matter of wonder, then, that the people of California should be brave, generous, and loyal--that they should have a high sense of right, and an undying scorn of wrong? I hold that the species is improved by the climate and the country--that stronger men and better men are now undergoing the process of development in California than in any other country on the face of the earth. If we live fast and die suddenly, it is the natural consequence of increased bodily and mental vigor, which too often leads to excesses, but which, under proper training, must eventually lead to the highest moral and intellectual achievements. The fault does not lie in our climate. I have yet seen none to equal it North or South--not even in Italy. I do not think the climate of Sweden is conducive to longevity, or extraordinary mental or bodily vigor. Indeed, the same may be said of any climate abounding in such rigorous extremes. The Swedes, it is true, lead a placid and easy life, content with ordinary comforts, and worried by no exciting or disquieting ambitions; hence they enjoy good health, and generally get through the usual span allotted to man. If the same sanitary rules were observed in our country, there would be less sickness and fewer untimely deaths. Dissipation is not rare in Sweden, especially in the capital cities, but it is more methodical with us. The people have certain times and occasions for getting drunk; they make a regular business of it. Virulent and disgusting diseases are also prevalent among them, so that between the rigors of climate and other causes less excusable, they frequently appear old and decrepit before their time. That among the middle cla.s.ses there are fine-looking men and beautiful women, is true; that in literature, science, and music, they can boast names that will go down to posterity, is a fact that can not be denied; but I think such a climate and the habits engendered by it are inimical to the highest order of physical and mental development among the ma.s.ses. Hence we find throughout the country many diseased and deformed persons of both s.e.xes; many weakly and not a few imbecile. The peasants are not so hardy and robust as I expected to find them; and I was told by competent judges, better informed than I could hope to become during so brief a sojourn, that they are progressively degenerating year after year, and can not now compare with the peasants of former times.

To say that I was charmed with my ramble through the Djurgaard would but faintly express the pleasure I derived from my visit to this beautiful park. Of all the resorts for recreation that I have yet seen in Northern Europe, I give it the palm for natural beauty and tasteful cultivation. In this the Swedes excel. Their villas, gardens, and parks are unsurpa.s.sed, and no people in the world better understand how to enjoy them.

Late in the evening I returned to my hotel, delighted with all I had seen. I was anxious to extend my rambles to Upsala, and to visit more in detail the various beautiful islands and places of interest in the vicinity of Stockholm; but the season was advancing, and I was reluctantly compelled to push on toward Norway.