August 2017 – Augusta's Journey

Exactly a month until we travel in Germany

In exactly a month, on the 28^th of September, Kerstin and I will be boarding an early morning train at Stockholm Central station to trace Augusta’s journey though Germany. Obviously, there will be no steam engines and no hustle and bustle on the platform; no carriers of large trunks and no women in elegant Victorian attire – except for us! We will be there, dressed in our fall dresses, capes, and bonnets – a la mode of 1847 – mingling with morning commuters.

The train ride south is the start of our 2-week, European journey. We are going to travel like two sisters would have traveled in 1847, and with Augusta’s diary as our guide book.

But before we take off on this exciting journey, we have to finish our wardrobe. We need outfits for all kinds of weather and for opera visits and mountain hiking – all the things Augusta did on her journey.

The Wooden Bastei Bridge in 1826 — The Wooden Bastei Bridge in Saxon Switzerland

We have no idea what clothes she brought or how she packed. So far, I have made one fall dress with a matching wool pelerine (short cape) and bonnet, and a ball gown in fine muslin (aka Walmart $4 cotton). I have 2 weeks to make a silk ball gown and 2 more dresses! But how wonderful it will be to hike in Saxon Switzerland National Park, in a dress with several layers of petticoats. And I am hoping for brilliant fall colors.

The journey has been planned in detail and we are going to visit all the churches, palaces, and museums that Augusta described. Besides hiking, we will take a steam boat on River Elbe and a steam-engine train in Dresden. And we hope to get tickets to the opera as well.

We are looking forward to meeting a lot of interesting and interested people on our journey. That is something we experienced when we did the Göta Canal cruise – you make new friends along the way.

Our time table looks like this:

If you happen to be in the surroundings – let us know! Maybe we can have a cup of caffe or a glace together.

But rest assure – we will be uploading pictures and blogging during our journey!

A side-trip to Nebraska

License plates celebrate the 150th anniversary of Nebraska becoming a state in 1867

I just got my new Nebraska license plates for my car. They celebrate the 150^th anniversary of Nebraska becoming a state in 1867. When Augusta set off on her European journey in 1847, Nebraska was not even a formal territory. So when did the large Swedish migration to the US start? Who were the first families to settle in the heartland?

I had hoped to find that the towns considered to be the Swedish capitals of Nebraska (Oakland and Stromsburg), or any of the towns or communities with the names of Gothenburg, Malmo, Wausa, Swedeburg, and Swedehome would have been settled by early Swedish immigrants. What it seemed like, is that most of the Swedes arrived from neighboring states and especially after the railroad across Nebraska was finished in 1867.

New Sweden Lutheran Church, Jefferson County, Iowa

According to Arnold Barton’s The Old Country and the New: Essays on Swedes and America, the first organized group of Swedish farmers to emigrate, and which founded a lasting Swedish settlement in the American Midwest, was led by Peter Cassel from Kisa parish in Östergötland. In 1845, his group settled in Jefferson County in southeastern Iowa and named their settlement New Sweden.

Peter Cassel praised life in Iowa in letters published by the Swedish press. This contributed to an increasing number of Swedes wanting to emigrate, and the start of the mass emigration.

The story of Peter Cassel and New Sweden is documented in an article in the Palimpsest in 1978.

Cultural Heritage Östergötland also describes the journey of Peter Cassel and his family and friends in 1845: “On an early May morning the small group breaks up from Kisa and travels with horse and wagon to Berg at the Göta Canal from where the journey continues with canal boat to Gothenburg.”

This is where it all comes together. Peter Cassel and his family lived in the same province (Östergötland) as Augusta. They left Kisa by horse and wagon and traveled the 40 miles to reach Berg. On the way, they would have passed Slaka church where Augusta was baptized and Lambohov – the beautiful estate of baron Sparre – which Augusta and her friends visited, dressed in black silk taffeta.

When they arrived at Berg, they boarded a steam boat for their journey on the Göta Canal to Gothenburg – the same journey Augusta wrote about in 1850, and Kerstin and I made in June.

Which brings me to another interesting discovery. Many of the Swedes who emigrated to America would sail from Gothenburg. In order to get to Gothenburg one would have to travel across the country, and before 1856, there were no railroads. So many emigrants started their journey to America on a small steam boat on the Göta Canal. And just like Kerstin and I did, one can still make this beautiful journey on one of Göta Canal Rederi AB’s boats and experience this first leg of the emigrant’s journey to America.

So what about Nebraska? It is most likely that some early settlers in Nebraska had roots in the province of Östergötland and that some had started their America journey on the Göta Canal. According to Ardith Melloh, “Young married couples and single men left New Sweden in south-eastern Iowa for the cheaper land and homesteads in western Iowa, Kansas, and Nebraska.”

Further readings on the Cassel colony can be found at: http://www.anusha.com/cassel.htm

French Kashmir shawl from the 1830s

In July, I wrote about my antique “paisley shawl” that I bought in Edinburgh. I was trying to figure out when and where it was made? I had spent time in the library and read all I could find, and I had narrowed it down to a European-made shawl from the early 1800s.

Who could shed some light on it? Any “paisley shawl” experts?

I googled something like “US expert paisley shawl” and found Dr Joan Hart, a textile specialist and art historian who specializes in Kashmir and paisley shawls. Contacting her led to a wonderful exchange of emails and some very definite answers, for which I am very grateful – thank you!

Even though I bought the shawl in Edinburgh, it is French, and probably made in the 1830s. It is very fine early jacquard weave (not woven on a drawloom). I also received some great advice on how to wash and mend the shawl.

Excited about knowing that the shawl was French, I continued looking for pictures of similar French shawls. The closest one I found was a French, wool and silk jacquard shawl from around 1830. The picture is included in The Kashmiri Shawl by Sherry Rehman and Naheed Jafri. The design has many similarities and the color in the weft seem to be exactly the same as in my shawl. The width is also the same. According to the authors, “the delicate fronds that creep upwards on to the small, plain cream section is a motif that came into European shawls around the 1830s.”

I also purchased a used copy of a beautiful book by Monique Levi-Strauss: Cashmere – A French Passion 1800-1880. Besides being stunningly beautiful, it is a fascinating read about the history and designers of French Kashmir shawls.

Where do I go next? I would love to know who actually designed and produced these shawls – maybe a research trip to France 🙂 ? The French have always been scrutinizing their Kashmir shawls – and finding cotton fibers among the silk and wool fibers must have been scandalous!

But what about the shawl Kerstin and I got from our aunt Eva – a reversible square paisley shawl. I asked Dr. Hart about that one as well. It turned out to be Scottish and from the 1850s or slightly later. There is a photo of a similar shawl in Frank Ames book: The Kashmir Shawl.

This has been an interesting and inspiring side-trip to Augusta’s Journey. I have discovered a whole new world of beautiful textiles that I knew nothing about before. But then, I have always liked scenic byways.

The First Train Ride

After having spent a week in Lübeck, Augusta and her mother leave for Berlin. The weather is rather miserable but they enjoy passing the “enchanting” little town of Ratzeburg. After Ratzeburg, the landscape is flat and infertile, but the scenery is not important to Augusta – she is excited about getting to Schwarzenbek where the railroad starts.

There were no railroads in Sweden in 1847 (the first local railroads opened in 1856 – after Augusta’s life time – and the railroad from Stockholm to Göteborg didn’t open until 1862).

I can almost envision Augusta and her mother when they finally are about to board the train – the novel and controversial mode of transportation. Augusta is waiting to step up into the train compartment, following her mother. Her mother’s wide dress fills the entire entrance to the compartment. When it is Augusta’s turn to step up, she gathers her skirt with her left hand. In her right hand, she is carrying a fashionable little reticule, a rolled-up travel blanket, and a parasol. The rest of the luggage has been left with the porters.

Now she will get to see the interior of a train car; this is what she has been looking forward to – and to experience the dizzying speed of a train ride. She is almost overwhelmed by what she sees and wonders how she will describe this luxury to her friends back home. She will not have a chance to write it down in her small diary until they have arrived at Hotel de Rome in Berlin and she has a desk to write on.

“Quite curious whether the journey in the so highly praised steam cars would please me, I waited with the utmost impatience for the train, which soon arrived. The first entrance in the wagon pleased me immensely. One was by Monsieur le Conducteur locked in a small delightful cabinet, with a ceiling lamp and four stuffed sofas, two and two against each other. The train started and I felt like I was flying through the air. In the distance, however, one could see the objects one passed, but as the whole of the Prussian countryside was ugly, I did not pay any attention to the scenery but instead conversed with my neighbors who, with the usual German talkativeness, informed us of everything we wanted to know for our stay in Berlin.”

Maybe the compartment looked like the one in Abraham Soloman’s 1854 controversial painting of flirtation in a first-class cabin while the girl’s father is asleep.

Abraham Soloman. First Class - The Meeting (original version) 1854 — Abraham Soloman. First Class – The Meeting (original version) 1854

Soloman then re-painted the scene according to Victorian morals – now with the young man talking to the father.

Abraham Solomon (1824-1862) First Class - The Meeting (Revised Version) — Abraham Solomon (1824-1862) First Class – The Meeting (Revised Version)

Or maybe the compartment looked like the one in August Leopold Egg’s 1862 famous painting: The Travelling Companions.

Now Kerstin and I are planning our travels by train through Germany. Hopefully the compartments will be just as cozy and the trains alot faster.