Kristina asked how it would be possible for Swedish Lutherans to partake of the Sacrament out here. Their last Sunday in Sweden, before they started out on their fateful journey, she and her husband had received the Lord’s Supper. At that time she had felt as if she were undertaking a death journey. Now again she was in great need of the Sacrament. At home they went to the Lord’s Supper table every month; three months had already elapsed since they had enjoyed the Sacrament, and man sinned in many matters daily. How much time they’d had to sin in the last ninety days! Idleness breeds sin, according to the old saying, and they had long been idle. Kristina had lately felt the burden weighing on her, disturbing her mind and soul. Original sin clung to her like an invisible, loathsome mange; it was a degradation. She longed to be cleansed in Christ’s pure blood, and no doubt there were many in their company who were in need of forgiveness for their sins, and absolution; how long would it be before they might again enjoy the Sacrament? The Swedish pastor who had come aboard their ship in New York had promised them communion, but when they heard he was a Methodist, not one among them had dared follow him to his altar.
Long Landberg answered: In Chicago there was a Swedish Lutheran minister by the name of Unonius; he was an upright man and a true Christian. Landberg said that a few ministers of the right religion were to be found also in Andover and in Moline, both places in the state of Illinois. When they arrived in Chicago, he would himself look up Pastor Unonius, who surely would be happy to give the Sacrament to all wishing to partake.
Landberg said that he intended to leave Chicago as soon as he had performed his duties there. This town was the only place in North America he detested. But it was the gateway to the West, which all travelers must pass through, although most thanked the Lord they could journey farther. Chicago was a swamp hole and a blowhole, built on the low shores of a lake and a river. On one side was the lake and on the other the prairie, with no protection against the winds, which blew so intensely that eyebrows and hair were pulled off people’s heads. The town had only three decent streets: Chicago Avenue, Kinzie, and Clark Streets. Yard-high stumps still stood in the other streets, and almost all the surrounding country was desolate wasteland where cows grazed. The houses were newly built, yet gray, dirty, and unpainted, for the hurricanes blew the paint off the walls. And the whole town stank from the mud and ooze of the swampy shores. Pools of water abounded, filled with crawling snakes and lizards and other horrible creatures. Thirty thousand people lived in Chicago, and of these, several thousand earned their living as runners, robbing immigrants passing through. Grazing was fine in Chicago, and cattle lived well in that town. But honest people, non-runners, could ill endure an extended visit in the place. Landberg thought Chicago would within twenty years become entirely depopulated and obliterated from the face of the earth.
Pastor Unonius worked zealously advising all his countrymen to settle in Chicago, but the guide thought that on this point the minister had wrongly interpreted God’s will.
Landberg was indeed like a father to the immigrants, and all agreed he had well earned the three dollars each person was to pay him.
“He is an upright man and an honest guide,” was the way Karl Oskar summed up their feeling. And he worried a little about their future when they would no longer have an interpreter to help in their dealings with the Americans.
Landberg had given Robert a new English textbook: A Short Guide to the English Language. This book had a chapter entitled “Instruction in Pronunciation for the Swedes.” Here were enumerated those English words in common use, as well as advice in general for immigrants. Landberg’s gift was quite a small book, hardly bigger than the almanac; Robert could carry it in his pocket and take it out when he needed it. Landberg had explained Robert’s difficulty with his first language book. The Swedish youth had been unable to comprehend why the sentences in English were spelled in two entirely different ways, one sentence always within parentheses. Now he was informed that the words were to be pronounced according to the spelling within the parentheses. Robert had learned English altogether wrong from the very beginning.
The first thing he had tried to say to the Americans was: “I am a stranger here,” and he had pronounced the words carefully, according to their spelling and Swedish pronunciation. But people had only stared at him, he had been unable to make a single soul understand that he was a stranger. From this new book, he learned how the words were supposed to sound: Aj äm ä strehn’djër hihr.
And Robert began at once to practice the pronunciation of the twenty-six letters of the English alphabet. He hurried his study of the language, in order to help himself and to lend his mouth to others of his group when their interpreter left them. He must show the others what he could do, and they would then value him the more and show him the respect due to learning. From now on he read in his language books every free moment, and always without Elin’s company. He told her, somewhat sarcastically, she was supposed to know English already; hadn’t the Holy Ghost filled all the reborn ones?
After her disclosure in New York of his secret concerning the captain’s “slave trade,” there was no longer the same intimacy between them. Moreover, Elin had difficulties with the foreign language, she moved her lips too much and pushed out her tongue too far while speaking English. How many times he’d told her to keep her mouth still and pull her tongue back; but she did not obey him. Not all people were so fortunately born as to be able to learn a new language; not even the rebirth seemed of any help to Elin.
Robert had been in danger of his life and he knew the importance of learning English. Moreover, Landberg now told him of a terrible thing that had befallen a newly arrived farm hand from Sweden: the boy had been one month in America when he met a cruel, heartless, cunning woman who inveigled him into going with her to a priest, who married them. The farm hand understood what was happening but he didn’t know one word of English, he couldn’t even say “No” at the wedding, and this the wicked woman knew. And now her victim had been ordered by the court to support her for the rest of her life. So Robert understood that there were many reasons why it was necessary to learn the language — in order to escape the many dangers that lurked in this land.
— 3—
Karl Oskar and Kristina were standing at the starboard rail where they could keep an eye on their belongings — their bulky linen sacks and the great America chest — stacked with other movables against the ship’s wheelhouse. The lake heaved moderately, the breeze was cooling, the heat did not seem a plague when the steamer was in motion. Karl Oskar complained of the slow speed: he was constantly worrying lest they arrive at their place of settling too late for sowing and planting. If they were unable to gather any crop this summer, they would be in ill circumstances. Now he was a restless man, he would not be at peace till the day when he could start to work.
Kristina watched the purring drive wheel, whipping the water like a dasher in a churn full of cream. When she used to make butter, the cream would splash up in her face, and now, as the wheel threw water against the side of the ship, the spray splashed on her face and into her eyes; it felt refreshing.
Ulrika of Västergöhl came up to them hurriedly. She addressed Karl Oskar in agitation: “Now I know the truth! Just try to explain this away!”
He turned slowly toward her: “What is it this time?”
“You have deceived us! You’ve swindled and cheated us and made us travel this long way!”
“What in hell are you accusing me of?”