On the last day of our 4-day cruise, the sun rose around 4 am while we were crossing Lake Vänern. At that time we were fast asleep in our cabin. Augusta had quite a different experience as described in her diary:
July, 1850
“As there was no cabin available except for that of the mate, which only had space for one person, I had to spend my night on deck. As it was a divinely beautiful evening, I complied with a rather good countenance.
The fate also benefited me this time; I was to get company on deck. The clock was barely 11 when a bump that shook the whole vessel proclaimed that we had run aground in the middle of Vänern. All passengers who had already been in their cabins and hammocks for a while now became visible, one after another, dressed up in the most bizarre toilets. The ladies were complaining loudly and Mr. Cassel and I, who in addition to the captain had been the only ones on deck, were now surrounded by a host of groggy and scared people who, unabashed in their curious costumes, formed the most ridiculous groups.
After six hours of being stationary, we began to go forward.”
By the 4th day of our cruise, we were already accustomed to bumps when Juno hit some sand at the bottom of the canal. But the night we spent on Lake Vänern was peaceful and I am sure our cabins were a lot more luxurious than those on Augusta’s steamboat.
“At noon, we arrived at Trollhättan. The weather was beautiful but the heat was suffocating. My company seemed absorbed by the deepest admiration of our Lord’s sovereignty as they took in the magnificent nature scene which meets the traveler’s eyes. I alone stood mute and numb (I sadly admit) in front of the imposing Toppö falls, which elicited countless exclamations of admiration from the other visitors. I had heard so much praise about Trollhättan that I, as usual, imagined something that in no way corresponded with reality. I saw nothing but an, indeed, quite respectable mass of water burst under my feet.
Painting of a waterfall in Trollhättan
I had imagined something I had once or twice read in travel descriptions: a fall, cascading from somewhere high above my head, in which I could see the sun’s rays refract into all the colors of the rainbow. In other words, I had imagined something that did not exist and, as a matter of fact, was highly unreasonable. I might as well have stood on the iron bridge in Norrköping, taking in the same view, although in miniature.”
Remnants of the Trollhättan locks built in 1800The Trollhättan locks seen from above
Having read Augusta’s descriptions, I was curious about what we would see. The waterfall that didn’t impress Augusta is only “turned on” during Trollhättan’s yearly water festival. But what impressed us were the old locks from 1800 that are now converted into a park. They resembled a gorge, with small waterfalls and rhododendron bushes clinging to the cliff sides. The system of locks that Augusta used, and which was built in 1844, was also included in the park – lined with walkways and meadows.
Juno had to use the newest set of locks – state of the art system and designed for commercial traffic. The locks were very deep and the walls looked like canvases of modern art created by scraped-off paint from the hulls of boats passing through the locks. At the bottom of one of the locks, and confined within the tall stone walls, our captain treated us to a soulful trumpet solo of a Swedish folk song – very moving!
Close-up images of the walls inside the new locks
“At night we arrived in the beautiful, stately Gothenburg.”
That is all that Augusta wrote about Gothenburg. To approach the city by boat was to us a great experience as Gothenburg has the largest and busiest port in Sweden. By 4 pm, we had reached our final destination.
What a memorable journey this had been! We wholeheartedly agreed with Augusta that the journey on Göta Canal is “…one of the most beautiful and pleasant trips one can make.
Day 2 of our cruise started in Söderköping. This is where Augusta boarded the paddle-steamer Götheborg in August 1850. And here we were, 167 years later, following her travels with her diary as a guide. She was 23 years old, and wrote in her diary that as soon as the boat was moving, she set out to assess her fellow travelers. She was not impressed; instead, she resorted to reading the recently published and popular novel, A Rumor, by Emilie Flygare-Carlen. I was of course curious about the novel and had bought an antique copy of the book and brought along just in case I needed something to read.
Of course I could not read. Our boat was gliding through the canal and giving us a close-up view of summer meadows and bright yellow fields of blooming rapeseed, groves of aspen and birch trees, and cows grazing among yellow buttercups and purple cranesbill. Instead of reading, I stood in the bow with my Nikon camera, trying to catch all the colors. Maybe Augusta would have loved that.
Local colors
And then, out of sudden, a young dear jumped into the canal, swam across, and jumped up on the other side. Then it was almost out of sight in the tall, green grass.
In this paradise, the only man-made sound was the humming of Juno’s engine. The most amazing sound, that we all marveled over, was the repertoire of the nightingale. The little bird was still singing even though the sun had been up since 4 am. June in Sweden is amazing.
We were making good time, which created a small dilemma when we reached the little town of Norsholm a bit too early. At Norsholm, both the main railroad and the E4 highway between Stockholm and southern Sweden cross Göta Canal. The E4 bridge is very high and we hardly even noticed the bridge. But the railroad bridge has to open for canal boats and for this, timing relative to the train schedules is essential. As we were a little early, the crew took the opportunity to bring the recyclable trash to the appropriate containers close by, and to pick up some groceries as well. Augusta would have wondered about all this!
After Norsholm we entered Lake Roxen and now it was time for lunch. An appetizer of bread with cheeses and herring was followed by plum baked farmhouse pork with black currant jelly, herb fried potatoes and gravy. We paired it with local IPA beers. The small dining room, with white linen table cloths and fresh flowers, made us remember our etiquette rules and Kerstin and I tried our best to get our wide skirts out of the way, sit straight, and not spill any black currant jelly on our dresses.
As we were waiting for the main course, we heard a loud rattling sounds of chains – was it the boat’s steering mechanism? We asked our most wonderful hostess who laughed and explained that it was the chains of the food elevator that was bringing up our plates from the pantry below. Fascinating!
We had barely finished our meal when we reached the most famous set of locks on the entire canal – the Carl Johan Staircase at Berg. But while Juno was climbing up the 7 connected locks, we had another surprise.
-I will come and meet you at Berg locks, she had said. Just look for a farm hand wearing a big black hat. I will be biking along the canal with my old rake.
The farmhand
Our good friend is a kindred spirit! There she was, just as promised, biking and waving! Soon we also realized that she might have called the regional newspaper (click on the link to see the video and read the article in Swedish). We were delighted to share our excitement about Augusta’s Journey with the journalist and photographer. What made it even more interesting was that we were now very close to the parish where Augusta was born (Slaka, Östergötland) – so Augusta’s Journey was really local news.
As the rest of Juno’s passengers had made an excursion to a local abbey and were not back yet, Kerstin and I strolled along the canal in the sunshine. Our parasols finally came in handy.
Photo credit: Pelle Johansson
At Heda locks, we all made it back on board. Our captain treated us to a trumpet solo of a Swedish summer hymn while the cruise hostesses had picked bouquets of wildflowers for the dining room. We soon settled on deck to have our afternoon coffee while taking in the ever-changing view of the landscape.
Suddenly we noticed the first of two aqueducts. The canal was on a bridge spanning over a highway. It must have been a sight for the drivers below to see an old canal boat move along on the bridge above! The aqueducts are fairly recent additions to Göta Canal but Thomas Telford, the Scottish engineer who was the architect of Göta Canal, had already built an aqueduct for a canal in Wales; the Pontcysyllte Aqueduct is now a UNESCO world heritage site.
The next interesting lock was at Borensberg. This is the only hand-maneuvered lock left. All the other locks are electronically maneuvered by local lock tenders. As our cruise was early in the season and the canal was not yet open for private yachts and boats, we realized that Juno had a lock tender that drove ahead to each upcoming lock.
After crossing Lake Boren, we reached our stop for the night – Motala. The sky had taken on a beautiful red hue as the sun was setting. Kerstin and I decided to take a walk in this little picturesque town before ending the day with a cold IPA on deck. Another memorable day!
Oh my. What a fun and memorable cruise we participated in last week! It was above all expectations!
It started with the taxi ride to Old Town, Stockholm.
-We would like a big taxi, said Kerstin to the taxi operator, it is not that we have a lot of suitcases, we just have wide skirts.
I don’t know what the taxi driver was expecting, but the next morning, up pulled a 7-passenger van with seats facing each other, almost like a Victorian carriage. It was perfect.
In the carriage
Traffic was slow-moving during the morning rush-hour into Stockholm, but that gave us the opportunity to practice our white-gloved waves and give the Stockholm commuters something to muse about.
Getting closer to the Royal Palace in Old Town, we could see Juno, the beautiful little canal boat that was going to be our home for the next 4 days. The moment had finally arrived – we were going to trace the trip Augusta made on Göta Canal in 1850.
The taxi pulled up at the quay and the driver helped us line up our carpet bags and hat boxes in front of Juno. Relatives and well-wishers were arriving and surprised us – so nice of all to take the time to come into Stockholm at this early hour to wave goodbye. Early morning tourists walking along the quay below the Royal Palace also stopped by and wanted us to appear with them in their photos of Stockholm.
Soon it was time to embark. The smart-looking crew took care of our unusual baggage and helped us over the gangway.
Our cabin was on the top deck. The first, and what became our daily challenge, was to climb up the steep and narrow companionway with our voluminous dresses and layers of petticoats. We soon learned that you had to gather the skirt with the left hand and hold on to the rail with the other hand. Augusta must have done the same.
The cabin
Our luggage had been delivered to our charming little cabin which had varnished mahogany trimming, beautiful wallpaper, a little commode, and two charming bunk beds. If you want to get a real cultural experience, this is it! What we are sure Augusta did not get, was a wonderful surprise: a small bottle of champagne and fresh strawberries!
Welcome surprise
But this was not the time to unpack or admire our antique cabin. The crew had been busy for our departure and three short, loud signals announced that the engine was going astern – we were departing!
Time to get our handkerchiefs out and wave goodbye, just like Augusta had described:
“After I had, with my handkerchief, waved a last goodbye to my friends left on the shore, my focus was soon on our beautiful capital city, which from the Baltic offers the view of a grand painting. “
Well the difference was of course that in addition to just viewing our beautiful capital city, here we were – both in 1840s dresses – photographing and filming the “grand painting” with iPhones and large Nikon cameras with long lenses.
Kerstin waving goodbye
Soon after departure, we entered our first lock – the Hammarby Lock – and then entered Lake Mälaren. As the clouds were hanging low and it started drizzling, this was a good time for the 34 passengers to meet in the dining room and get introduced to the 11 crew members on the boat.
By then end of the 4-day cruise, we all felt like one big family.
The boat jolted; where were we? I opened our cabin door – the chilly, early morning air was refreshing. I looked at my watch – 5 am; it was already light outside. On deck, a few fellow passengers were waving to early joggers along the canal. The city of Söderköping was waking up.
I could feel the boat slowly being lifted; we were obviously already inside the lock. One could hear the water rushing in between the two huge doors of the lock in front of M/S Juno’s bow.
Soon we were out of the lock and moving at a slow, pleasant pace, passing by lush green trees and meadows with grazing cows. A nightingale was singing with its characteristic clicks and calls.
Göta Canal
Our dresses, damp from previous day’s walk in the rain, and hung to dry on each side of the cabin door, were swaying with the slow motions of the boat. Even the long, white stockings, wet and muddy from the walk, were slowly swaying over the window.
How could a morning be more peaceful that this!
And the last day of May was as lovely as it could ever be
How can a boat climb 18.8 meters up a hill? The marvel of the 7 connected locks of Carl Johan Staircase, finished in 1818, can only be truly appreciated aboard a boat like M/S Juno that just about fits within each lock.
Lock
It takes time for the boat to enter, wait for the water level to rise, and then exit the lock. And this process is repeated for each of the 7 locks. This gave our fellow passengers a chance to walk to the historical Wreta Abbey close by. Times have not changed – this is what Augusta and her fellow passengers also did on their Göta Canal trip in 1850:
We were in the neighborhood of Wreta Abbey and our company seemed determined to disembark. I was conversing with the two Frenchmen and we marched arm in arm to the newly restored Wreta Church, which we found open. My cavaliers began to tire me with their French so I resolutely took August’s arm and led the whole company back to the locks while singing “Rest by This Source” and “La Marseillaise”. When we arrived at the last lock, the steamer had not yet arrived so we sat down in the green grass and played games. Finally, our smoking abode arrived and cheerfully we boarded the boat.
Kerstin and I did not walk along the canal arm in arm with any cavaliers. But we did walk along the canal under blooming whitebeam trees and hawthorn bushes, and we did sing Rest by This Source by Bellman. And our wide skirts swayed as we walked and our bonnets were catching the breeze and had to be tied tighter not to fall off.
And the last day of May was as lovely as it could ever be.
From a distance, through the trees, you can discern the yellow mansion that is Loddby. Loddby was owned by Gustaf Leijedenfrost who was twice Augusta’s brother in law. After both her sisters and her father had died, Leijdenfrost became Augusta’s wealthy benefactor and Augusta and her mother made Loddby their home.
Kerstin and I are finally going to visit the home of Augusta, or at least walk around the house with Augusta as our guide.
“We have, God be praised, spring and the most wonderful, sunny days. Nature has awakened from its long winter slumber and, in its rich diversity, one sees once again evidence of the Creator’s greatness, power, and kindness. The lark sings so elaborately and happily from high among the clouds; the Cuckoo’s monotonous, but all so dear and longed for, ho ho, ho ho, can be heard from the forest; the butterfly flutters around with its mottled wings and gives the welcome kiss to the little blue and red flowers, just sprouted from the ground; the swallows, the little travelers from foreign countries, rebuild their nests under Swedish roofs and cheerfully soar towards the clear, blue heaven. It is really lovely in the country this time of the year; one breathes so easily and feels so happy and so grateful to the One who created the sun, the air, the flowers, the light, and the little winged creatures who give life to this wonderful painting. Worries cannot really get a foothold in our chests when the sun shines so kindly and clearly and everything around us is renewed and rejoices .” (Loddby, 25 May 1851)
Yes, that is how it feels today; the sky is blue, the trees have little bright green leaf buds, a single fly is buzzing around, and high up in the sky there are a few soaring birds. Of course, one can also hear the humming from traffic on E4 close by, but we ignore that.
We park the car behind the mansion and decide to first walk through the woods down to the shores of Bråviken. This is where Augusta’s family would arrive if they took boats for their travels. It was customary to announce the arrival of the boats by firing a cannon.
Bråviken
“… four cannon shots announced that Leijdenfrost was in the vicinity. Mr. Lindgren went out in the boat to pick him up and Mom and I welcomed him on the shore.” (Loddby, August 1850)
“August is home! These words are a goodbye to the joy; they are the Pandora’s Box from which all my pain and discomfort emanate. At 17 o’clock, the ship Göthen anchored and four sailors in red outfits rowed August to shore, but no happy physiognomies met him on his return home.” (Loddby, 23 april 1851)
The still surface of Bråviken reflects the birch trees and willows along the shore and we try to envision the commotion of anchoring ships and firing of cannons; sometimes bringing dear visitors and sometimes Augusta’s not-so-welcome brother.
Walking back up from the shore gives us a view of the back side of the mansion. In 1847, could you see the water from the second floor of the house? Was there a garden on this side?
Loddby
“The rain has come down as if the sky was wide open and the storm is shaking the windowpanes; it is impossible to travel to Fullerstad. Nature has created a revolution and it is very depressing and sad to see how the garden is like a lake and our tall, beautiful maple trees are losing one branch after another.” (Loddby, 29 August 1851)
And looking at the house, there are two chimneys – how many tile stoves (Swedish: kakelugn) were used to heat the house? And which one did August destroy?
“Yesterday evening we once again had a scare by one of the shocking events that time after time happens at Loddby. Malla had put a bag of gun powder by a tiled stove in which August threw a lit letter. Suddenly everything exploded – the entire tiled stove collapsed, all windows broke, and August himself had his whole right side burned. Doctor Åberg has been here today; there is no danger although it is extremely painful.” (Loddby, 28 July 1851)
We walk around the house and view it from the front – it is quite small under the tall trees that seem to have been planted in rows, long after Augusta’s time.
Loddby
The mansion has two matching wings that create a small courtyard. This is where the guests would have arrived in their carriages. And that was Augusta’s life at Loddby: Who came? Nobody came? How long did they stay?
“They left a while ago; everyone is now asleep. There is a deadly silence in the house, and I sit in my lonely chamber, writing down a few lines from my memory of a day that will never come again.” (Loddby, 25 August 1850)
And when nobody came, Augusta got consolation from her religion.
“Almost a whole sad month has passed since I last wrote a few words in my diary. I have nothing but gloomy days and sad events to write off. We have clothes, we have food, we have health (undoubtedly great gifts of God, who deserves all our gratitude) but there is a saying that when the beggar gets cheese, he also wants to have it fried and this unbelieving beggar is me. 0h! I would so much also have a little peace and joy. When our Lord takes away our calm and peace, he gives us hope as compensation and consolation, but hope finally fails us when we cannot see any end of our battles.” (Loddby, 26 September 1851)
There is another old road that leads from the house, passed an old, red, farm building –maybe a granary? This one could also be from Augusta’s time.
Loddby
We follow the road, and it is possibly the old road that would lead to Krusenhof. The surroundings are beautiful – maybe this is one of the small fields where Augusta’s mother was growing peas?
The road
When the sun goes behind a cloud in the sky, the March weather is still chilly, and I wonder how it was during the long winter. That is when visitors were scarcer and the loneliness probably felt more acute.
“The sun is now bidding farewell to our earth, engilding the sky and the tree tops with a blood-red shine. The north wind rages in the branches of the leafless trees and gusts around the corners of our house with a howling sound. It lifts the dry leaves with whirling speed up against the black, rainy clouds, chasing each other over our heads and then dies down to rest as to gather strength to start again with an increased rage. When during such a dark and stormy autumn night, one is in one’s own warm room in front of a nice fire, one values the good life – in contrast to when nature is calm.” (Loddby, 2 November 1850)
“Outside, the pleasant autumn is already in full color, and I have a fearful vision of the cold winter, when one is, in a way, frozen solid to Loddby.” (Loddby, 28 August 1850)
Kerstin and I turn back to the house and our parked car. A snake basking among the sunbaked rocks make us jump. Blue scilla and white anemones are already dotting the meadows. And Augusta’s words summarize our visit to Loddby:
“… the sun shines so kindly and clearly and everything around us is renewed and rejoices.”
Still Life: Corner of a Table, 1873, by Henri Fantin-Latour (1836-1904)
Only 3 weeks until our Göta Canal cruise! Now is the time to read up on Victorian table etiquette.
What food could you buy on a Swedish steamboat in 1850?
Augusta never described in her diary what she ate on her Göta Canal trips – did she and her family bring their own food or did they buy food on board? What food could you buy?
The Swedish author, Carl Jonas Love Almquist, in his classic novel, Sara Widebeck (Det går an), published in 1838, described the dilemma of choosing what to eat aboard a steamboat departing from Stockholm on Lake Malaren:
The family fathers had to “consider very attentively what they may venture to eat on board without becoming completely bankrupt…” Also, there was the issue of food safety: “Many gentlemen here still had lingering memories of cholera.” But from the novel, one learns that, depending on social class and the ticket one bought, one could purchase food and drinks from a buffet downstairs, and coffee was provided even to people on deck.
So how will we be dining on our Göta Canal cruise?
It sounds pretty fantastic:
“ When it is time for lunch and dinner, the beautiful dining room is elegantly set with linen tablecloths and fresh flowers.”
“When the gong sounds, it’s time to sit at the table for a two-course lunch or a three-course dinner. Coffee is served in the afternoon, usually on deck, weather permitting.”
“Tradition has it that the guests change to something a bit more elegant for dinner. It does not have to be dark suit, smart casual wear is quite enough.”
M/S Juno dining room. M/S Juno is the world’s oldest registered cruising ship, launched in 1874.
With this in mind, I decided to consult my new indispensable book on Victorian etiquette and politeness, and copy down the most important points to remember when dining aboard M/S Juno,
When you take your seat, be careful that your chair does not stand upon the dress of the lady next to you, as she may not rise at the same instant that you do, and so you risk tearing her dress.
Sit gracefully at the table; neither so close as to make your movements awkward, not so far away as to drag your food over your dress before it reaches your mouth.
It is well to carry in your pocket a small pincushion, and, having unfolded your napkin, to pin it at the belt. You may do this quietly, without its being perceived, and you will thus really save your dress. If the napkin is merely laid open upon your lap, it will be very apt to slip down, if your dress is of silk or satin, and you risk the chance of appearing again in the drawing-room with the front of your dress soiled or greased.
Gloves and mittens are no longer worn at table, even at the largest dinner parties.
Never use an eye-glass, either to look at the persons around your or the articles upon the table.
Eat your soup quietly. To make any noise in eating it, is simply disgusting.
No lady should drink wine at dinner. Even if her head is strong enough to bear it, she will find her cheeks, soon after the indulgence, flushed, hot, and uncomfortable; and if the room is warm and the dinner a long one, she will probably pay the penalty of her folly, by having a headache all the evening.
Never take more than two vegetables; do not take a second plate of soup, pastry, or pudding. Indeed, it is best to accept but one plate of any article.
If you find a worm on opening a nut, or in any of the fruit, hand your plate quietly, and without remark, to the waiter, and request him to bring you a clean one.
Hmm, I don’t know how I will eat without my eye-glasses, without drinking wine, and only two vegetables. Sitting gracefully in my 1850s dress, and with my chair not standing on Kerstin’s dress, might also be challenging. Eating without gloves, no problem!
There is only one wedding described in Augusta’s diary, the wedding of her cousin Carolina Schubert’s daughter Johanna (Hanna). Hanna was 2 years younger than Augusta and they were best friends. On August 7, 1851, Hanna married Count Lars Eric Georg Sparre. There are no descriptions of what the women wore and especially nothing about how the bride looked.
Given that Queen Victoria in 1840 had worn a white wedding dress, it is likely that the fashion in Sweden in 1851 also dictated a white dress. The pictures above are a few paintings from this time period of brides getting dressed.
“Hanna is married, but I will have to start at the beginning.
On the evening of the 6th of August, before the important day that would give Hanna the name, honor, and dignity of being a countess, her bridesmaids and the groomsmen were invited to merrily celebrate the last hours of her carefree time as a free woman.
I was the first to arrive. Shortly thereafter, Countess Sparre accompanied by her sister, an old dry and dull Mamsell, and two tall girls from Carlscrona, Miss Rappe and Mamsell Hjelm, both silent and inaccessible, arrived. Miss Ströberg, Mamsell Lenning, Rosa de Mare, Ada Sparre, and little Emelie Schubert were the other bridesmaids who, one after the other, made their entrance into the red parlor.
Soon, the groomsmen arrived. The first one to be presented was a Baron Rappe (cousin to the tall Miss Rappe) who displayed the forthright, trustworthy, and honest character that generally is associated with sailors and which makes you immediately comfortable and uninhibited in their company. Then followed a sharp-nosed Baron Falkenberg, a man I had previously met when he was a cadet. I think he was a little in love with Miss Rappe’s great merits as one always found him in her vicinity. Albert Schubert, the adventurer Ambjörn Sparre, Mr Victor Lenning, and the extraordinarily beautiful Baron Rehbinder were additional groomsmen. One of my Stockholm dance partners, Lieutenant Uggla, finished the lovable row of cavaliers.
After this short introduction, the dance began and continued until 10:30 in the evening without any particularly ingenuity and without any of us having made any advances in getting acquainted.
Thursday the 7th of August was the momentous day that would lead Hanna to a life of sorrow and despair or, with God’s grace, possibly to one with happiness and prosperity. Wållander officiated the ceremony in the most extraordinarily moving way; I think there was hardly any dry eye in the room. Weddings are all the same, a little monotonous and boring, but I had no reason to complain as my cavalier was a General.
The next day at breakfast, most of the wedding guests were assembled. General Boij and Lieutentant Colonel Tömgren conversed so diligently with me that they forgot to eat the stately breakfast. This gave rise to several sarcastic statements from the younger groomsmen, which I answered. My replies were not appreciated and made Baron Rappe my enemy. Baron Rehbinder and I, now at last, became a little more acquainted, but the two sailors and the two ladies from Carlscrona kept to themselves as peas in a pod and were impossible to form any closer acquaintance with.
I was asked to sing and I had to come forward to show my talent. It think it went reasonably well and I was thanked in the most flattering terms. The men sang a couple of quartets, very well, and finally we parted to get ready for the ball.
Twelve different uniforms swirled around the ballroom and offered a fairly lively view. The anticipation for the ball was high. As soon as I entered the hall I was asked to dance all the dances and, of course, I was not sad to feel so desirable. The ball lasted until 3:00 in the morning.”
Ball. Illustrerad Tidning 1858.
Footnote: Baron K.A. Rappe and his cousin Miss Torborg Rappe later married.
Paul Axel Fredrik Wahlfelt was born 200 years ago, on 19 February 1817.
It is very likely that Wahlfelt might not have celebrated his birthday. The featured image above is one of the few paintings of a Victorian era family birthday celebration. Celebrating birthdays became more common among well-off families at this time, but it was still more common to celebrate one’s namesday.
Lieutenant Wahlfelt in Fritz von Dardel’s painting
Anyway, remember Lieutenant Wahlfelt? He proposed to Augusta in the spring of 1849 and she rejected him. The truth is, she didn’t seem to think highly of him:
12 March 1851 (Augusta and her mother were visiting the Ribbing family) “Mother and I was visiting Ribbingens today where, marvelously, Baron Fredrik happened to keep company and was as decent and agreeable as he can be when he wants to. We departed early, for I had a premonition that Lieutenant Wahlfelt could get the idea to transport his insipid personality to Clara {where Ribbingens lived}, which definitely would not have been pleasant.”
27 March 1851 (Augusta was invited to a glamourous ball given by Minister Wallensten)
“Lieutenant Wahlfelt was, thank God, resentful of me all evening so I was spared from hearing his stupid reasoning.”
Because Fredrik Wahlfelt (sometimes referred to as Paul or Pålle Wahlfelt) didn’t marry or have children, there is nobody to keep his memory alive. So to celebrate the 200 year anniversary of his birth, here are a few biographical notes.
A little more about Fredrik Wahlfelt
Photographs of Wahlfelt in the 1860s (Source: Riksarkivets porträttsamling)
Paul Axel Fredrik Wahlfelt was the second of 3 children born to lieutenant colonel Svante Fredrik Wahlfelt and Kristina Ulrika Tham. When Augusta met him, he was a lieutenant in Andra Lifgardet. He became captain in 1851 and major in 1862. From 1839, he was a teacher at the Gymnastic Central Insitute (GC) in Stockholm and later also at the military academies, Karlberg and Marieberg, where he taught gymnastics and weaponry. In 1851, he achieved the rank of senior teacher at GC, a title he kept until his death in the spa-city of Wiesbaden, 16 July 1873 (age 56).
Wahlfelt contributed to both theoretical and practical aspects of teaching gymnastics and weaponry. He also developed a bayonet fencing rifle.
One cadet at Karlberg described Wahlfelt in his memoir* :
P.H. Ling teaching in the gymnastics and fencing hall at the Gymnastic Central Institute. Drawing by Egron Lundgren 1839.
“In gymnastics and fencing, we had as a teacher the renowned fencing master Major Pålle Wahlfelt. He, as well as the majority of physical education teachers at that time, were not clear about the meaning of Ling’s admirable educational system and, therefore, taught gymnastics at Karlberg according to a system that was not a system at all. But he had a great ability to fire up us boys with his electrifying command and his energetic shouts.”
“Seeing Major Wahlfelt fencing against two opponents was a delight. None of us has hardly reached a similar skill with said weapon.”
The fatal fencing accident of his nephew
Of the 3 siblings Wahlfelt, only Fredrik’s older brother Carl Svante Vilhem (1815-1886) married and had children. His oldest son, Nikolai Axel Fredrik Wilhelm, was born in 1861. At that time, the family lived in Finland. Axel obtained an MS degree and taught mathematics. He married Agata Magdalena Lönnblad. In 1893, he was living in Stockholm in order to work on his PhD in mathematics at the university.
Victorian fencing attire: Cruikshank’s picture of fencing on St. James Street in 1822
Axel was also a good fencer, just like his father and uncle Fredrik had been. On 20 February 1893, he had just finished a fencing lection with his instructor Drakenberg when he and a friend, Lieutenant Fid, continued with some free fencing. They were both wearing face masks as required. Somehow, the tip of Lieutenant Fid’s foil penetrated Axel’s mask between the nose and the left eye and Axel fell to the floor. The eyewitness account stated that there was no bleeding, but because he was lifeless, Lieutenant Drakenberg realized the urgency and called for a doctor. Axel died soon after arriving at the hospital, 32 years old.
Family descendants in the USA
At the time of the tragic accident, Axel’s wife Agata was pregnant with their first child. The child, Bror Axel Svante Wahlfelt, was born on 18 June 1893 in Helsinki, Finland.
What became of him? Ancestry.com has the clues.
Thirty-one years later, he is listed as a sailor on the Swedish vessel “Anten” arriving from Shanghai, China to Port Townsend, WA on 25 June 1924. He had joined the crew in Newcastle and is listed as deserted after arrival in the US. On 31 March 1931, Svante then marries Hilja Leskinen in Manhattan, NY. In 1942, he registers for the World War II draft, giving his address as 2301 Wyoming Ave, Washington, DC (in Kalorama, DC, and next to what is now the Embassy of Yemen).
Svante died in 1963. His wife Hilja and her sister Maria Wikberg both lived in Saline, MI until they passed away. Svante and Hilja’s daughter Ruth Ebba Märta was born in 1933, married a Christophersen, and had 3 sons, which are listed as living in Denmark. Her sister Maria, who of course is not genetically related to the Wahlfelts, had a daughter, Ethel Posldofer, who in turn had 2 sons and several grandchildren. Descendants who probably have no idea of their grand family history.
*Source: Kadettminnen av överste Claës Christian August Bratt 1927 (pdf available online)
There is only one wedding described in Augusta’s diary, the wedding of her cousin Carolina Schubert’s daughter Johanna (Hanna). Hanna was 2 years younger than Augusta and they were best friends. On August 7, 1851, Hanna married Count Lars Eric Georg Sparre. There are no descriptions of what the women wore and especially nothing about how the bride looked.
