At 7:30 in the evening, I set off in a carriage pulled by 2 white horses through illuminated streets and cheering crowds to the Bourgeoisie’s Ball on the occasion of the King’s anniversary. The ballroom was unbelievably beautiful and the whole party was, according to unanimous testimony, successful on all accounts. It was probably the most beautiful [ball] in the 25-years [of the King’s reign]. I danced with Miss Gurli [Kantzow], Miss Mathilda [Horn], and Mamsell Elisabeth Schwan, each the beauty of the ball in her own genre. (Erik af Edholm’s diary, 6 Feb 1843)
Elisabeth Schwan was the belle of the balls. Erik af Edholm, who was the son of the King’s personal doctor, chronicled the social life in Stockholm in the 1840s. And he liked Elisabeth Schwan.
The weather this morning was wonderful, warm and sunny as at the end of April, and The Square* was full of people strolling around. The water trickled around the paving stones on the slightly dirty streets and in higher places, sun-dried paving stones provided a nice playground for children and pets.
In The Square, Elisabeth Schwan sashayed her young pleasures in a pink silk hat and a small, school coat. I confess that I abandoned my companions, the Poppiuses, and went straight to wish her a happy new year because I had not seen her since before Christmas, and then I accompanied her, her mother, and the Munthes for several turns around The Square. Being too elated, I even accompanied Mrs. Munthe all the way to her door at 69 Regeringsgatan. (Erik af Edholm’s diary, 29 Jan 1843).
*The Square (Swedish: Torget) was the nickname for Carl XIII’s Square, which is a part of the large central park, Kungsträdgården, in Stockholm.
Fritz von Dardel also liked Elisabeth, at least he liked to include her in his drawings of the social life in Stockholm.
The Amaranth Ball, 6 January 1845. Painting by Fritz von Dardel. Elisabeth is the girl in the yellow dress. Yes, our Augusta was there too!
At General Peyron’s Ball, 19 Dec 1844. Elisabeth Schwan is the dark-haired girl in the lilac dress.
Who was Elisabeth Schwan?
Elisabeth Mathilda Schwan was born on February 2, 1828. Her father, Johan Gustaf Schwan (b. 1802), was a wealthy merchant who had married his cousin, Augusta Eleonora Schön. She was the daughter of another important merchant in Stockholm – Johan Schön (b. 1781).
I was already familiar with the wealthy family Schön. The mother of one of Augusta’s friends, Adèlaide (Adèle) Peijron, was born Schön. And it turned out that the mothers of Elisabeth Schwan and Adèle Peijron were sisters. So Elisabeth and Adèle were cousins.
Elisabeth married Knut Cassel who had studied law and worked at the Department of Finance in Stockholm. In 1860, the family purchased Stjernsund Castle from the royal family. There they raised 5 sons.
Stjernsunds Castle in the 1850s
Elisabeth Cassel, born Schwan, and her family around 1856-57.
A Visit to Stjernsund Castle in 2019
Using the language of Augusta’s time, Stjernsund is handsomely situated on a promontory above the still, blue waters of Lake Alsen. It is now a museum.
On a beautiful day in the summer of 2019, Kerstin and I visited Stjernsund Castle dressed in our finest summer dresses. We took a guided tour of the castle and saw a few things that had belonged to Elisabeth. It is well worth a visit!
Photo by Pernilla Gäverth
Sources and links:
af Edholm, Erik. Svunna Dagar. P. A. Norstedt & Söner, Stockholm 1944.
Cecilia Koch was ranked 7 out of the 92 girls who were confirmed with Augusta in St Jacob’s parish in Stockholm in May of 1844.
Two months earlier, Augusta had received a letter from her mother Anna. Augusta had been attending Mrs. Edgren’s school and boarding with the family Edgren, but now the Edgrens were moving to Morup on the Swedish west coast. Augusta and some of her classmates would be transferring to a school run by Miss Andriette Frigel. As Augusta would not board with her new teacher, the letter from mother Anna instructed Augusta to inquire about new boarding arrangements for the coming fall.
Loddby the 23rd, Saturday evening
My beloved child, I have now written to Mrs. Edgren and asked her where and with whom I shall let you stay; we will see if she knows a suitable place for you if you need to remain [in Stockholm]. It is truly a great sacrifice of me to let you stay up there for another year, I need you so much at home.
…It would be helpful and fun for both of you if Cecilia Koch made sure that she came to the same place as you – tell her that. Now ask Mrs. Edgren to find a good place for you and I will take care of the agreement when I come up. By the way, ask how much Miss Hellberg charges and find out what kind of person she is and with what kind of people she socializes, and if she can bring out into society those in her charge. It is very important to find a place that has a good reputation and where people are known for their honorable character. If you can find a place where they daily speak a foreign language, that would be good for you. Tell Mrs. Edgren that. If she knows of such a family and they could take you in, that would be very good. I think she knows many foreign families.
…Write to me soon and tell me what you know, also what Mrs. Edgren has said about you remaining in Stockholm if she thinks that’s what you should do. On Wednesday, I sent you your black everyday dress – I hope you have picked up the package. I hope you like it. There were also a pair of black silk gloves.
God bless you my own child and make you as happy as your mother wishes.
Well, Augusta did find a suitable family to board with – the family of Baroness Jaquette Ribbing. Not a foreign family but certainly one that met all the other wishes regarding reputation, character, and high society.
But what happened to Cecilia Koch who Augusta’s mother mentioned in her letter? And who was she?
Cecilia Koch
Johanna Cecilia Mary Lovisa was born on February 14, 1828, to Michael Koch (1792-1869) and his first wife, Johanna Amalia Fröding (1801-1830) on their estate, Vågsäter, north of Uddevalla on the Swedish west coast. The Koch family was a powerful and wealthy family in Uddevalla. Michael Koch was a major in the navy. He had even sailed to the West Indies. Later in life, he would live in Uddevalla and contribute to the establishment of a cotton mill and a railroad.
Cecilia’s father, Michael Koch. Painting by Pehr Södermark
Cecilia’s mother died in childbirth in 1830, leaving her husband with 2-year-old Cecilia, a 1-year-old son, and a newborn baby. As was common practice, Cecilia’s father remarried. He and his second wife, Emma Wilhelmina Iggeström (1809-1891), had 4 daughters and a son. The children Koch (those who survived to adulthood) had interesting lives and married well.
Cecilia’s stepmother, Emma Wilhelmina Iggeström. Drawing by Maria Röhl, 1839.
Attending Schools in Stockholm
When Cecilia became a teenager, it was time to send her to Stockholm where she would get a good education, be introduced into society, and attend balls and concerts with the unspoken aim of meeting some suitable and eligible young man. Augusta, who was a year older than Cecilia, had likewise been sent to Stockholm in the fall of 1842. Augusta was boarding with the Edgren’s but Cecilia was living somewhere else and just attending classes.
When Augusta started in Miss Frigel’s school in the fall of 1844, we don’t know if Cecilia was still in Stockholm. Augusta studied with Miss Frigel during the fall of 1844 and the spring of 1845. Then she moved back home to her mother at Loddby but stayed in touch with her friends through letters. There is a letter from Lotten Westman in Stockholm to Augusta, written on October 20, 1846, that mentions Cecilia:
You sent me greetings from Cecilia Koch. When you write to her, please send my sincere greeting. She is like a bright spot from our school days. I only knew her for a short time but I liked her so much. Greet her a thousand times. She is such a fortunate girl who gets to be with Mrs. Edgren. She must be so loved by all of those around her. My aunt had heard about it when she was in Varberg.
Does that mean that Cecilia didn’t continue studying in Stockholm but instead moved to Morup to continue studying with the Edgrens? It certainly reads that way. And it sounds like she was still living with the Edgrens in the fall of 1846.
Measles
The next letter that mentions Cecilia is from Augusta to Lotten Westman in January of 1847
Yesterday, I received a letter from Major Koch’s wife. Enclosed was the ring that Cecile always wore and which contained a lock of her hair. It was a dear memory of the untimely deceased childhood friend. She was too perfect to live here with us and, therefore, she also left us young. It was very thoughtful of Mrs. Koch to remember me.
Oh no, Cecilia died! I checked the newspaper and found her obituary. It stated that Cecilia had died at an age of 18 ½ years on October 23, 1846. She died peacefully at Vågsäter. I check her death certificate. She died from measles.
Measles epidemics were common and most started in coastal towns before moving inland. Gothenburg was one of those cities. A provincial doctor in the town of Vänersborg summarized the measles epidemic on the west coast of Sweden in 1846 as starting in the province of Bohuslän and arriving in Vänersborg at the end of October. It spread mainly through the schools and by December, most homes had reported cases.
Maybe Cecilia contracted measles while in school in Morup and died later at home? Morup is located on the coast, south of Gothenburg.
The 1846 measles epidemic was one of the worst in Gothenburg in the 1800s. Young children who had not been exposed during previous epidemics were vulnerable and around 10% of the young children in the city died.
I never met my paternal grandmother, Eva Svinhufvud (married, Melin). She died years before I was born. But she was somewhat of a legend and a role model when I was young. She had a higher-education degree in gymnastics from the Royal Central Gymnastic Institute (GCI) in
Stockholm and had traveled to Switzerland in her youth to teach the latest kind of gymnastics – Ling’s Gymnastics. She had even opened her own institute in Lausanne, Switzerland! My cousin and journalist, Annika Melin, published a book about her a few years ago.
My grandmother Eva’s grandmother was our Augusta who was confirmed in St Jacob’s parish in 1844. So when I saw the name of one of her confirmation friends, Emma Ling, I got curious. Did she have anything to do with the founder of Ling’s Gymnastics?
Gymnastics and Physical Therapy in the 1860s (Source: Digitala Stadsmuseet, Stockholm)
Emma Ling
That Emma Ling was ranked 7 out of the 92 girls who were confirmed in St Jacob’s parish in 1844 came as no surprise. Emma’s father was Pehr Henrik Ling. He had died in 1839 but was famous for having founded an institute for gymnastics in Stockholm, Gymnastiska Centralinstitutet (GCI, the Royal Central Gymnastic Institute). He was also a poet and a member of the Swedish Academy with the title of professor.
GCI in 1868 and before demolition to make room for Stockholm’s Culture House (Source: Digitala Stadsmuseet, Stockholm)
Emma’s family
Emma was born in 1828 to Pehr Henrik Ling and his second wife, Charlotte Nettelbladt. She had an older half-sister, Henrika Sophia Carolina (Jetta) born in 1810, three older full-siblings, Hjalmar Fredrik (1820), Carl Ejlif (1824), and Hildur (1825), and two younger siblings, Wendela Henrica (1834) and Henrik Sigurlam (1838). Carl Ejlif died at age 18 in 1842 from gastric fever and Sigurlam only lived for 6 months before succumbing to an inflammation. Emma’s father had a total of 10 children, but 3 had died before Emma was born.
The family had two homes – they lived in the house where GCI was located, which today is the location of Stockholm’s Culture House. There is a small statue outside the Culture House, commemorating GCI and its founder, Pehr Henrik Ling.
Their other home, Annelund, was outside Stockholm, in Solna parish. It was a nice country home with a barn used for gymnastic exercises.
Annelund in Solna parish
Marriage
While Emma’s two siblings, Hjalmar Fredrik and Hildur both continued in their father’s footsteps and taught gymnastics at GCI, Emma married a nobleman in June of 1851, Robert Edvard Stuart. Robert owned Långvik’s glassworks in Piteå in northern Sweden. In August of 1851, Emma moved to Piteå, far from her family in Stockholm.
The following year, on July 8, 1853, Emma gave birth to a daughter, Anna Catharina. Little Anna died within a year. The cause of death was not recorded in the church records. Emma was already 3 months pregnant with their second child and on January 22, 1854, Hildur Carolina was born in their home at Långvik.
There is little digital information about Emma and Robert’s life at Långvik. There was a local newspaper in Piteå, Norrbottensposten, that featured local news and advertisements. In 1853 there was an obituary for little Anna, and in July of 1854, there was an announcement about an upcoming auction of everything belonging to the Stuart family, including cows, calves, sheep, copper, iron, …, and then a list of their household items. What had happened?
The next digital record comes from the church records in Klara parish in Stockholm. Emma and Robert had obviously left Piteå and moved back to Stockholm. Was Robert ill? On September 30, 1854, Robert died from gastritis. He was 33 years old. His was buried at Annelund, the Ling’s estate in Solna.
Emma was now a widow at age 26 with a 9-month-old baby. She realized (or found out) that her husband’s debts might have been more than his assets. So in order to not being responsible for his debts, Emma sought what in Swedish is called “urarva”, that is, forgoing the inheritance and thus not being responsible to pay any debtors. She and her daughter, Hildur, would not inherit anything, not even Emma’s dowry from just a few years back. She was now at the mercy of her family.
Emma and her daughter Hildur (Source: Riddarhusets porträttsamling)
Emma never remarried. She brought up her daughter who in 1877 married another nobleman, Klas Mauritz Linroth.
When Sofi was confirmed in St Jacob’s Church in May of 1844, she had experienced more tragedies than any of her friends in the confirmation class. As she sat in the church with the other girls, she must have been thinking of her father. When Sofi was little, he had been the pastor in this church. She missed him, and her mother, and her sister, and her grandparents. They had all died within a few years. All she had left was her brother and a few cousins.
Anna Elisabeth Sofia (Sofi) Carlstrand
Anna Sofia Elisabeth Carlstrand was born in St. Jakob’s parish on November 15, 1827. Her mother, Sofia Wilhelmina Söderlund, had only been 18 years old when she gave birth to Sofi. Her father, Pastor Erik Carlstrand, was 34 and the pastor in St. Jacob’s church – a very prestigious position. Soon Sofi would get some younger siblings: Julia Mathilda Carolina in 1829 and Erik Johan in 1831.
But like so many other young women, Sofi’s mother suffered from tuberculosis and in 1832, at the age of 22, she died, leaving behind the three young children. Sofi was 5 years old. The same year, her maternal grandparents also died.
Moving to Brunskog
Two years later, in 1834, a cholera epidemic occurred in Stockholm. Sofi’s family was not spared. Her then 5-year-old sister succumbed to the disease. Was that the reason that Sofi’s father decided to leave Stockholm with his two surviving children the following year? Or did he want to move closer to his hometown of Karlstad? Regardless of the reason, Sofi’s father accepted the position of pastor in the small parish of Brunskog, a rural community nestled in the deep forests of Värmland. In May of 1835, the small family and their housekeeper, Johanna Schaumkel, moved to Brunskog.
Living in the parsonage in Brunskog was quite different from their apartment right across from St. Jacob’s church in Stockholm. The parsonage was spacious and the views of the forests and the mountain ridge across the large lake provided both solace and inspiration. For 8-year-old Sofi and her 4-year-old brother Johan, there was so much more space for play and discoveries.
Brunskog Church in 1835
Tragically, Sofi’s father died 3 years later, in 1838. He was only 44 years old. Sofi and her brother were now orphans. Who would take care of them?
Back to Stockholm
I spend several evenings trying to find the traces of Sofi. I find that Johanna, the housekeeper, moved to Stockholm in 1839 and became the housekeeper to Sofi’s mother’s, half-brother’s widow. And there is a note in Brunskog parish’s household examination records that Sofi also moved to Stockholm in 1839. But as she was a child and an orphan, her moves between parishes were not recorded. I was hoping that she had also moved in with her mother’s relatives, but she hadn’t. Maybe she was put in a boarding school for girls – she was 12 years old and probably in need of some formal education. The only thing we know is that in 1844, she was confirmed in St. Jacob’s Church in Stockholm. Likewise, there is no trace of Sofi’s brother until he is an adult living in Stockholm.
Marriage
The next footprint she leaves in the digitized records is her wedding to Pehr Victor Herrman Osbeck on January 17, 1852. Herrman Osbeck was the grandson of Pehr Osbeck, a Swedish botanist and explorer. Herrman’s father, Carl Gustaf Osbeck, was a medical doctor in Stockholm. And Herrman was also the brother of Frans Theodor Osbeck, who married “our” Augusta’s cousin’s daughter, Albertine Schubert.
Herrman had the title of Possessionate: someone who owned a larger country estate, or a property in a major city, or an ironworks. I haven’t found what he owned. To get a picture of Herrman’s and Sofi’s life, I turn to the digitized newspapers. I start with the obituaries and since they don’t mention any children, they either did not have any or, if they did, they did not survive.
Herrman and Sofi lived in Maria Magdadela parish in the south of Stockholm. Herrman was an entrepreneur and someone who was “with the times”. The first mention of him in the papers is with regards to the new invention, the telegraph. Herrman was part of the management team that led the installation and laying of the telegraph cables to Uppsala in 1854. After that, his title changes to Commissioner. He is now a real estate agent, advertising real estate such as a pharmacy being for sale, including all its commodities.
The Commision Office at the Railroad Station
And then he has a bright idea. Or was it Sofi’s? Did they work together?
It is 1860, and the railroad is coming to Stockholm. Herrman puts an ad in the paper:
Commission-Office at the Train Station in Stockholm
When the railroad is completed, the undersigned will receive and send all kinds of goods arriving from or being sent to the countryside. The fee will be paid at a fixed rate. Storage and transportation will be available. Gentlemen who wish to take advantage of this to send goods are asked to contact the undersigned.
On December 1, 1860, the railroad between Stockholm and Södertälje opens to traffic. The station in Stockholm is not where the central station is today. In 1860, it was in the south of Stockholm, close to where Herrman and Sofi lived.
And Herrman is in business! He even advertises that he takes care of receiving, selling, purchasing, and shipping any kind of product. And as people in the countryside realize that there is a reliable agent in Stockholm, they provide goods for him to sell. He advertises draft horses, birchwood, oatmeal, and … fresh milk every evening!
It makes me think of COOP, the small convenience store located in Stockholm’s Central Station today. A place for busy commuters to get a few groceries before getting on the subway or commuter train. Times have really changed but, on the other hand, there is still demand for oatmeal and fresh milk!
Business is booming for Herrman and Sofi. Why not expand the services offered?
In 1864, Herrman advertises that he is not limiting his services to the railroad station. He will provide his services to all of Stockholm.
And then in 1866, there is an Industry Exposition in Stockholm. Herrman gets the contract to receive and take care of all goods for the exhibition that arrives by train. And he advertises his multitude of services to the exhibitors.
“Industripalatset”, the Exhibition Palace in Kungsträdgården was built for the Industry Exposition in 1866
Transportation within Stockholm
So far, Herrman had focused on shipping and receiving goods. But what about the passengers who arrived in Stockholm by train? What services did they need? They needed the same services as today – transportation from the train stations to their final destination and someone to help with their luggage. The difference was that luggage was bulkier and heavier than today and might have to be delivered to your destination.
Luggage would be taken care of by porters, but it was total chaos outside the train station with porters accosting the travelers. And the travelers had no way of knowing who they could trust or what constituted a reasonable fee for transporting their luggage. Herrman proposed to the railroad authorities that he could provide porter service (Swedish: Stadsbud). The porters would be wearing a recognizable uniform and the fees would be posted. They agreed and in 1868, he started his “Railyard Service” (Swedish: Bangårdsservis).
The Railyard Service was so successful that in 1869, he realized that travelers arriving by steamboat faced the same problem and that he could provide his services to those as well. He called it “Steamboat Service” (Swedish: Ångbåtsservis).
When Herrman died in 1889, Sofi took over the business. The fact that she took over the business suggests that she likely was a partner in the business all along. She was 62 years old and for the first time in her life, she had a professional title: Stadsbudsföreståndarinna (Manager of City Porters).
In 1899, she was quoted in the newspaper about her views on changing the fee structure and hourly salaries for the porters. She did support an increase in hourly salaries.
Sofi died in 1902 from a stroke. She was 74 years old.
What an interesting life she had.
Painting by Jenny Nyström published in Svea Illustrerad Veckotidning, 1886. It depicts two porters (Stadsbud) recognizable by their caps, helping Christmas shoppers.
My last two blog entries told the story about Hedda Heijkenskjöld and Marie-Louise af Forsell, who wrote about a party that the two of them attended. It was described in Marie-Louise’s diary of 16 September 1847:
“During our absence, the family of Colonel Prytz from Malmö had come to visit. Nycander now wanted us to return the visit and I promised, therefore, to put on the gray silk dress on condition that we would then visit Dimanders in the afternoon. It turned out that the Prytzes had already left for Finland – but on our way there, Nycander recognized Tante Netta’s carriage in Jakobsgränd street with Adelaide Rütterskjöld in it. He mentioned to them that we intended to pay them a visit – and when we returned home, Tante Netta had already sent word that they would be home this afternoon.
Thus, at 6 pm, we took the same route as yesterday to Djurgården. To my delight, there were unusually few people at Dimanders, only Nymans, Mrs. Wijkander, ….
The gentlemen played, to which Mrs. Dimander first requested our permission, and Mrs. L. (one of the decent Mamselles Strömberg), together with the girls Rütterskjöld and I, spent the whole evening in the parlor, conversing. It can easily be understood that I had fun, as my stocking was allowed to rest undisturbed in Hedda’s admirable valérie.”
One of the girls Rütterskjöld was Augusta.
Augusta Mariana Rütterskjöld
Augusta Mariana Rütterskjöld was ranked as 12 of the 92 girls who were confirmed in St Jacob’s parish in Stockholm in the spring of 1844. Her high ranking was of course due to her father’s wealth and title. He and his siblings had inherited the ironworks at Aspa and Olshammar on the northwestern shores of Lake Vättern. He thus had the title of Patron of Ironworks (Swedish: brukspatron), a respectable title that signaled wealth.
But the truth is that by 1844, he was likely not the reason for Augusta’s high rank. Pastor Petterson would have been aware of Augusta’s father’s problems at this time. It is more likely that her high rank was based on the status of her uncle, Anders Dimander.
This is Augusta’s story. But it is also a story about her mother and grandmother.
The Spring of 1844
Augusta was not surprised that her father was not attending her confirmation. And she was used to explaining her father’s absence.
“He can’t leave his ironworks, of course.”
Actually, all she had to say, as a way of explanation, was that her father was an owner of some ironworks. Everyone would understand that he had great responsibilities far from Stockholm and couldn’t come home. Augusta even believed that. And she didn’t miss him; she didn’t even know him.
Augusta’s mother, Sophia, devoted all her time to running the large household in Stockholm. They lived in a grand house on Regeringsgatan 66 which Sophia and her sister, Anna (Netta) Dimander, had inherited from their parents. Netta Dimander was a wonderful and socially prominent woman. Everyone in the upper social circles of Stockholm knew her, and the parties she hosted were splendid. Her husband, Anders Dimander, was equally well-liked and respected. He was Stockholm’s “stadsmajor” a high position within the city’s military defense. Having lost their only child, Augusta’s uncle had become a surrogate father to her. The Dimanders also lived in a large house that they owned, at Regeringsgatan 71. They were almost neighbors.
Augusta’s Family
Augusta’s parents were Ulrica SophiaNyman and Gustaf Rütterskjöld. They had married in Klara parish on 2 December 1822. Their first daughter, Lovisa, was born the following year. Two more daughters, Adelaide and Jaquette, were born before they moved to a house on Stora Nygatan 20 in the Old Town. It was the house where the famous poet Bellman had once lived. Sophia had inherited the house when her father died, but as a married woman, she had no rights to her own wealth, so her husband, Gustaf, was the one who became the legal owner of the house. Sophia now gave birth to their first and only son, Ewert. The following year, she took the 4 children, the oldest being 4 years old, and moved home to her mother in the big house at Regeringsgatan 66. Gustaf stayed behind with a live-in maid. And then, the following year, Sophia gave birth to Augusta.
Mother with 4 daughters (part of drawing by Queen Victoria)
As there are several generations referred to in this story, I thought a summary of the family members would be helpful:
Augusta’s maternal grandparents:
Israel Gustaf Nyman (1757 – 1824) and HelenaSofia Nohrström (1769 – 1829). They had two daughters:
Augusta’s aunt: Anna Helena (Netta) (1790 – 1876) married Anders Dimander (1778 – 1857)
Augusta’s mother: Ulrica Sophia (1792 – 1852), married Gustaf Rütterskjöld (1796 – 1875).
They had 5 children:
Sophia Lovisa (1823 – 1891), single
Charlotta Adelaide(1825 – 1886), married Berndt Nycander
JaquetteWilhelmina (1826 – 1909) married Theodor Wijkander
Ewert Johan Israel (1827 – 1899), single
Augusta Mariana (1828 – 1898), single
(I have written about Adelaide and Jaquette previously in a blog entry about Mrs. Dimander.)
Augusta’s Parents, Sophia and Gustaf: Separated or Divorced?
I have spent several evenings looking through census and church records, trying to figure out the family situation. Where was Augusta’s father?
It was obvious that Gustaf had left the family. In 1833, Sophia changes her name in the church records from Mrs. Rütterskjöld to Mrs. Nyman, her maiden name. In the 1835 census records for Sophia and her 5 children, it is her brother-in-law, Anders Dimander, who has signed the form and added a note that the husband’s whereabouts are unknown. And in 1844, Sophia changes her title to widow – maybe a socially acceptable way of explaining her husband’s absence.
I then search for Gustaf Rütterskjöld in the church records of the parish where his ironworks are located, Hammar parish. It shows that he and his brother Rutger moved to Olshammar in 1836 to join their older brother Carl. He now resides in Olshammar and only makes visits to Stockholm.
The next step is to look at the property deeds for their home at Regeringsgatan 66. It had first belonged to Sophia’s father, Israel Gustaf Nyman, a fabric merchant (Swedish: klädeskramhandlare). I look up his estate inventory in 1824 following his death. His wife would inherit half of his estate and the two daughters would each get a fourth of the total value of the estate which would be around $4 million today. Sophia gets her share in terms of property – a house at Stora Nygatan 20 in Old Town. That explains why Sophia and Gustaf moved there around 1827. But as married women did not have the legal right to their own wealth before 1874, it was her husband Gustaf who became the legal owner of the house – something that would turn out to be disastrous.
Sketch for Reading of the Will, by Sir David Wilkie c. 1820
Augusta’s grandmother, Helena, dies five years after her husband, in 1829. Now the estate will be divided between the two sisters, Netta and Sophia. This will be interesting. The property deed shows that the ownership of the house at Regeringsgatan 66 will be split equally between Sophia and Netta’s husband, Anders Dimander. According to the law, it should have been split between the two husbands as a wife wasn’t legally independent. So what does it mean that Sophia and not her husband Gustaf became the owner of half of the house?
With anticipation, I look up the estate inventory following Helena’s death. It is a balance sheet of credits and debits. The total worth is only $476,00 in today’s value. But on the pages following the balance sheet are Helena’s last will and testament. Reading it is eye-opening and highlights the plight of women in a time when they had no financial rights and their husbands were their guardians.
Helena Sofia Nyman’s Last Will and Testament
“After my death, my estate shall … be equally divided between my dear daughters Anna Helena and Sofia Ulrica who are both equally dear to me.
The part of the inheritance that will be bequeathed to my eldest daughter, Anna Helena, will be given to and be at the disposal of her and her husband, the tobacco manufacturer and City Major at Stockholm’s Citizens’ Infantry Corps, Mr. Anders Dimander, who for his orderliness in the conduct of his affairs and his propitious lifestyle has my full confidence and my utmost esteem.
A completely different arrangement should be made with the inheritance that will be bequeathed to my younger daughter Sophia Ulrica, married to the ironworks owner, Mr. Gustaf Rütterskjöld.
This brother-in-law of mine, ironworks owner, Mr. Rütterskjöld, has revealed the most certain and imperceptible signs of his inability to take care of himself and his wife’s estate, to which he is also unjustified even if he is placed under guardianship.”
Helena then documents her son-in-law’s mismanagement of Sophia’s inheritance from her father. He had borrowed on “his” house in Old Town and defaulted on his loans. There wasn’t much left of Sophia’s inheritance from her father. This in turn had led to legal action and Gustaf had himself been put under guardianship by the court. That meant, he was not allowed to do business or manage his own money anymore. Helena wrote this will in 1827, about the time when her daughter left her husband. The will (in Swedish) can be found at the following link. It is fascinating.
A few lines from Helena Sofia Nohrström’s Last Will and Testament
So when Helena died, the ownership of Regeringsgatan 66 was passed to Anders Dimander and Sophia Nyman, each owning 50%.
Life goes on
Now we are back to where we started, in 1844. Life is good. The four sisters, Lovisa (21), Adelaide (19), Jaquette (18), and Augusta (16) attend balls, parties, and outings – many hosted by their aunt, Netta. In the winter there are sleigh rides.
“It is good that I have had so much fun earlier this winter because now, it is the end of it. The last amusement I had was a sleigh ride to Haga that Mrs. Dimander organized; very charming. It was awfully fun. I rode with Carl Hedin, … , Emma Hedin was also with us and we drove home in the most splendid moonlight – it beautifully lit up the white snow. Too bad we rode in a covered sleigh. The road conditions were perfect for the sleighs and it was not cold. Imagine how many layers of clothing I was wearing: at least 15 shawls, cardigan, and anything one could think of….” (Letter from Lotten Westman to Augusta Söderholm, March 1846)
In 1848, Jaquette marries Theodor Wijkander. Anders Dimander signs the marriage banns instead of her father.
Then in 1852, Augusta’s mother, Sophia, dies of tuberculosis at the age of 59. There is a note in the church records that she is divorced. Her obituary doesn’t mention her husband – only her children and grandchildren.
Three years later, in 1855, Adelaide marries Marie-Louise af Forsell’s widower, Bernt Nycander.
In 1857, Anders Dimander dies and the ownership of Regeringsgatan 66 changes again. Now the husbands of Jaquette and Adelaide become part-owners of the house.
Augusta’s father, Gustaf, dies in Stockholm in 1875. There is no obituary, just a note in the paper.
And Ewert becomes a farmer.
The sisters live long lives, travel to spas at Marstrand and Strömstad in the summers (yes, that is noted in the daily newspapers), and do as well as their grandmother had hoped for when she wrote her will in 1827. She would also have been delighted to know that all her granddaughters would in their lifetime see major changes towards women’s independence from men and legal guardians. In 1863, the laws changed so that single women became independent and allowed to manage their own finances at the age of 25. In 1874, married women were granted the right to manage their own money. In 1884, single women became legally independent at the age of 21, and in 1921 that also included married women.
Today, all women are legally independent at the age of 18.
My last blog entry was about Hedda Heijkenskjöld. What I didn’t include was the fact that she owned an exquisite Valerie, or at least, that is what Marie-Louise af Forsell wrote in her diary.
Marie-Louise af Forsell’s diary, 16 September 1847
During our absence, the family of Colonel Prytz from Malmö had come to visit. Nycander now wanted us to return the visit and I promised, therefore, to put on the gray silk dress on condition that we would then visit Dimanders in the afternoon. It turned out that the Prytzes had already left for Finland – but on our way there, Nycander recognized Tante Netta’s carriage in Jakobsgränd street with Adelaide Rütterskjöld in it. He mentioned to them that we intended to pay them a visit – and when we returned home, Tante Netta had already sent word that they would be home this afternoon.
Thus, at 6 pm, we took the same route as yesterday to Djurgården. To my delight, there were unusually few people at Dimanders, only Nymans, Mrs. Wijkander with Mamsell Eld (who soon left), Mrs. Göthe, and Mamsell Röhl, who was accompanied by the honorable Wirrman (who they had run into in the streets and asked to join) – and Liljewalchs who were, like us, “volunteers”.
The gentlemen played, to which Mrs. Dimander first requested our permission, and Mrs. L. (one of the decent Mamselles Strömberg), together with the girls Rütterskjöld and I, spent the whole evening in the parlor, conversing. It can easily be understood that I had fun, as my stocking was allowed to rest undisturbed in Hedda’s admirable valérie.
It can easily be understood that I had fun, as my stocking was allowed to rest undisturbed in Hedda’s admirable valérie?
When I read this diary entry, the last sentence was cryptic. What did it mean? First I imagined a group of teenage girls laying around, having so much fun, and one of them putting her foot (the stocking) on her friend’s lap.
Of course, that is not how teenage girls behaved in 1847. And especially not if they were wearing silk dresses and conversing in a parlor. And what was a valérie (or Valerie)?
Lost and found
This is where a Google search fails. There are zillions of famous women named Valerie. So instead, I reverted to searching for the term in the digitized Swedish newspapers during the mid-1800s. And that is where I found the Valeries. Actually, the Valeries all appeared in the lost and found columns of the papers. I found 15 notes of lost Valeries.
A Valerie was described in the newspaper ads as a large Reticule or a Pirate. Reticule (Swedish: Ridikyl) was the name of a handbag or purse during this time period. Most reticules were small drawstring bags. Pirates (Swedish: Pirat), on the other hand, were larger bags. Often they are mentioned in Swedish novels as belonging to older women and being large enough for carrying home leftover food from parties. Is that how the large reticule got its nickname? And if so, did young women who needed larger reticules for their sewing projects and books, resent their reticules being called Pirates and therefore started calling them Valéries?
The first ads for lost Valeries appeared in February of 1847. One ad stated that the Valerie contained sewing items. The other one described the Valerie as being made of Zephyr yarn, being green and yellow, and having a lock made of steel.
Then in March of 1847, someone lost a velvet Valerie in Stockholm:
“Emellan Fredsgatan och Stortorget borttappades, Söndagsaftonen den 7 i denna månad, en Ridikyl eller så kallad Valerie af brunt och hwitt, rutigt sammet, samt inneliggande en kammarduksnäsduk med spetsar, en stickstrumpa med stickhållare af silfwer, en nyckel, ett par handskar och ett par silkeswantar. Wedergällning utlofwas om upphittaren inlemnar dessa saker uti Likkistmagasinet i huset No 30 wid Skomakaregatan.”
The ad stated:
Lost on Sunday evening, the 7th of this month, between Fredsgatan and Stortorget, a Reticule or so-called Valerie of brown and white, checkered velvet, containing a cambric handkerchief with lace, a knitting stocking with a silver knitting holder, a key, a pair of gloves, and a pair of knitted silk gloves. A reward is promised if the finder submits these items to the coffin store in house No. 30 at Skomakaregatan.
There were other lost Valeries – crocheted in different colors, lined with silk fabric, and some containing locks. Most of them contained handkerchiefs and knitting or sewing items. One contained money; another one a gold watch chain. There were also gold thimbles, stockings, and confectioneries that the owners reported as the content of their Valeries.
Suddenly, the sentence “It can easily be understood that I had fun, as my stocking was allowed to rest undisturbed in Hedda’s admirable valérie,” made sense. The stocking Marie-Louise was talking about was probably a knitting that she would pull up if the party got boring. And we should all understand that she had so much fun that she never had to get her stocking out of Hedda’s Valerie.
Types of Valeries
I have not been able to find a single image of a Valerie. There are some images from the 1840-1850s in the Nordic Museum in Stockholm that are labeled Travel Bags. They are of the type with a metal frame rather than a pull string. The Valeries that had a lock would probably fall into that category. There is only one picture of a Pirate, although the museum lists having several Pirates in their collections. I imagine that some Valeries could have looked like these travel bags and others would have been large crocheted bags.
There are also advertisements for Valeries in the newspapers (without images), for Valerie-locks, and for mounting – I assume mounting the fabric to the hardware and/or stitching an embroidery to a leather purse.
One of the hits when searching on Valerie in the Swedish newspapers was a feuilleton about a love-sick, spice-merchant. It described what a lady would be expected to carry in her Valerie:
“Spice-merchant Mandell was overjoyed when he discovered that the lady had unusually small feet which mischievously peeped out from under the hem of her silk dress. She sat down on the bench, right in the place where the already love-sick, spice-merchant had taken up his post. She started looking in her Valerie that she had brought with her. Mandell thought to himself: Let’s see what she will pull out; probably a novel, or a poem, – no, it was a knitting of a stocking. She is homely and used to handicrafts, thought the spice-merchant, – so much better, she will keep an eye on the maids and make sure that things get done in the house. The lady was soon busy with her knitting and Mandell, who had steeled himself with courage and repeated the fine speech he had decided to deliver, now took the time to step forward and introduce himself to his beauty.”
Besides the digitized newspapers, Kerstin reminded me of The Swedish Literature Bank, a website for digitized, classic, Swedish literature. She sent me a link to a novel where a woman puts a dead cat in the Valerie. Yes, you would need a large purse!
What else could I find there?
The famous Swedish feminist and writer, Fredrika Bremer, expressed in a letter to the likewise famous writer, Malla af Silfverstolpe, her gratitude on behalf of her mother for the Valerie that Malla had made when visiting them at Årsta.
Sources:
Featured image:
I imagine that she had just picked up her knitting from her silk Valerie that is laying next to her (The Window Seat by Francis David Millet, 1883)
Heijkenskjöld, Syster, ed. 1915. Sällskapslif och hemlif i Stockholm på 1840-talet: ur Marie-Louise Forsells dagboksanteckningar. Stockholm: Bonnier. (Translation of title: Social Life and Home Life in Stockholm in the 1840s: From Marie-Louise Forsell’s Diary Notes).
Hedvig Sophia von Sydow was ranked as 19 of the 92 girls who were confirmed in St Jacob’s parish in Stockholm in the spring of 1844. That she made the top 20 list was due to her father, Adolph Peter, being a counsel at the Department of Commerce (Swedish: Kommerseråd). His father, in turn, had been a member of parliament and, although not belonging to one of the noble families in Sweden, Adolph Peter’s brother had in 1830 been introduced at the House of Nobles. The von Sydow family was well respected and influential.
Hedda
Hedvig was called Hedda by her friends – and she had many. One of her close friends was Marie-Louise af Forsell whose diaries were published in several volumes.
Already last week, Hedda Sydow had wanted to see us at the Seippel’s, but then had to postpone it as Hilda was ill. And now she had to do the same yesterday because of my flu. So I felt guilty today and went to see her and would have gone even if my shivers had been worse than they actually were.
Time flew fast from 5 to 11. I ate so many figs that it soon became difficult for me to speak.
(We)…had remarkably fun, just being ladies. Everyone’s little musical skill was employed. Lotten tried Hedda’s notes as we missed my dear myopic sister.
(Marie-Louise Forsell, 17 December 1845)
Marie-Louise af Forsell’s diaries are full of anecdotes about Hedda and her father, who she refers to as the old, honorable, Uncle Sydow.
Hedda and her father often visit the Forsell family. They even spend Christmas Eve with them. Which made me wonder – where was Hedda’s mother?
Searching for Hedda’s mother
I start with the census records. There are only two years for which there are digital images – 1835 and 1845 (filled out in November of 1834 and 1844).
In the fall of 1844, Hedda has turned 16. She is living with her father, Adolph Peter von Sydow, born in 1785. There are also a housekeeper and two maids living with them.
So what happened to Hedda’s mother? I find her name in a family biography. Her first names were the same as her daughter’s, Hedvig Sophia, and her family name was Sundberg. She was born in 1792 and died in 1858.
Did Hedda’s parents divorce or separate? Was the mother ill and living somewhere else? I just have to find out.
The easiest way would be to find Hedda’s birth record. It would state the parents and where they lived when she was born. But Hedda’s birth is not recorded in the parish where they lived! Nor in neighboring parishes either.
I decide to look at the Household Examination Records instead. This is where the pastor visited each family each year and made remarks about each household. I could find out how long they had lived at the same address and when Hedda was born, as her name would have been added to this record.
I start with 1845 and go back in time. The family is the same every year – Adolph Peter, then Hedda, then the housekeeper…..…Sundberg! Wasn’t that the maiden the name of Hedda’s mother? Hedvig Sophia Sundberg! It just hits me that Hedda’s mother is living with them, but she is not listed as being married to Adolph Peter. She is their housekeeper!
I continue my search, going back in time until I get to 1834. There is a comment before Hedda’s name: foster daughter.
Then in 1833, she is not living with them. I go all the way back to 1828 when she was born, and she is not living with them then either.
So who lived in the household when she would have been conceived? I assume Hedvig Sophia Sundberg is her mother, but if she is listed as a foster daughter and her mother is not married to Adolph Peter, anyone could be her father…
In 1827, only three people are living in the apartment: Adolph Peter von Sydow, Johan Henrik von Sydow, and Hedvig Sophia Sundberg – listed as their maid. I look up Johan Henrik. He was Adolph Peter’s cousin. He later married, became the mayor of Gävle, and had two sons.
Hedda’s birth
Initially, I thought I knew who Hedda’s father was and didn’t know what had happened to her mother. Now I have found her mother and don’t know for sure who her father is. Could I still find it in the birth records? I now know that her birth record would be in the church’s book for illegitimate children.
I start again with St Jacob’s parish where the family had lived the whole time. Hedda is not in the book. That is strange. I will just have to check for her record in all parishes in Stockholm – that is, finding her among all illegitimate children born in Stockholm in July of 1828.
So I have checked St Jacob’s parish, and I also don’t find her in Nicolai – the parish of Stockholm’s Old Town. Next, I look at Klara’s parish, and that is where I find her!
Hedda’s birth certificate in the book of baptisms of illegitimate children in Klara’s parish 1828
Hedvig Sophia, born 22 July and by Beckman baptized the same day. Parents not disclosed. Mother 35 years old. Witnessed by Mrs. Frestadius who attended the birth. The General Maternity Hospital. The child is not registered in its ledgers.
So Hedda was born at the General Maternity Hospital where the majority of women giving birth were single mothers. The hospital was located at Fredsgatan No. 9 (the block of Rosenbad) which belonged to Klara’s parish and, therefore, all the children born at the hospital would be baptized by the pastor in Klara’s parish. That explained why she was not recorded in her home parish, St Jacob.
I also look up Mrs. Frestadius in the census records. She was a midwife and the director of the hospital.
Who took care of little Hedda?
So Hedda was born on 22 July 1828 but didn’t move in with her parents until 1834 when she was 6 years old. Who took care of her? I check the archive for Stockholm’s orphanage and do not find her name in 1828. Most likely, she was taken care of by some relative.
When I first searched on Hedda’s mother in the digitized daily newspapers, I found her obituary in 1858. It stated that she was the widow of Adolph Peter von Sydow. So when did they get married? I decide to check all Household Examination Books from when Hedvig Sophia Sundberg moved in with Adolph Peter and until he died in 1850.
From 1819 to 1831, Hedvig Sophia Sundberg is listed as a maid. In 1832, she is listed as a mamsell, and from 1833 to 1847 she is a housekeeper. Then from 1847 to 1850, she is a wife.
So they married in 1847. There is no announcement in the daily paper. But I find their marriage record on 13 June 1847 in St Jacob’s marriage books.
I get curious, what did Adolph Peter and Hedvig Sophia disclose in their documented banns of marriage. Yes, there is a church book for that as well. And below, is an image of what was recorded for Adolph Peter (The Man’s, Mannens) and Hedvig Sophia (The Woman’s, Qwinnans).
Marriage Banns document for Adolph Peter von Sydow and Hedvig Sophia Sundberg 1847
Adolph Peter moved to Stockholm in 1806. He had never been married.
Hedvig Sophia was born on Ornö, an island outside Stockholm, and then lived in Järna, south of Stockholm, before moving to St Jacob’s parish in 1819. She had never been married. On the question about the family man or legal guardian to approve this marriage (Swedish: Giftoman), Hedvig Sophia states that she has been granted the right to be legally independent. That is interesting as women had to apply for this right prior to 1863! And then there is an interesting comment:
Daughter Hedvig Sophia, under promise of marriage, born 22 July 1828. In the book of baptisms in Klara and declared in the records of marriage banns.
Does that mean that Adolph Peter is the father or simply that someone had promised to marry her when she got pregnant?
I also look for Hedvig Sophia’s birth record at Ornö but don’t find it. I also don’t find her moving from Järna to Stockholm in 1819. But at least, I know her story from 1819 until her death in 1858.
So now they were a legitimate family. I wonder if it changed Hedvig Sophia’s acceptance among their friends.
Returning to Hedda and her friend, Marie-Louise af Forsell
Hedda and Marie-Louise were almost neighbors. Hedda lived in a block named St. Pehr, house no. 14. The block doesn’t exist anymore. Several blocks in this area were demolished to make space for a shopping center – Gallerian. Marie-Louise lived next to St Jacob’s Church and by Kungsträdgården, the large park in the center of Stockholm.
Historical Panorama of Stockholm: 1. Hedda’s home 2. St Jacob Church 3. Marie-Louise af Forsell’s home 4. Kungsträdgården, also referred to as Carl XIII’s Plaza 5. The General Maternity Hospital (Almänna Barnbördshuset)
Marie-Louise’s family came from a country estate, Yxe, close to the town of Nora. She had many cousins and spent the summers there – all documented in her diaries. One of her cousins at Yxe was Frans August Detlof Heijkenskjöld (Augusts and Marie-Louise mothers were sisters, born Geijer). August was a lieutenant in Wermland’s infantry. Maybe Hedda met August when he visited Stockholm. Nevertheless, August and Hedda married on 9 August 1849.
Again, I get curious. What did Hedda disclose about her background in the banns of marriage?
Hedda does not list the parish where she was baptized, only that she was born in Stockholm. It would have been very hard (in the pre-digital time period) to find her birth record as illegitimate in a parish where she had never resided. On the question of when she moved into St Jacob’s parish and from where, she avoids the question by stating that she was confirmed in St Jacob. What about her first 6 years? Where did she live?
But she got married anyway, and into a noble family, the Heijkenskjölds. Her father gave his approval.
Life in the countryside and back in Stockholm
After the wedding, Hedda and August move to a farm, Hult in Ervalla parish, close to his family home Yxe and the town of Nora. The following year, Hedda gives birth to a son, Adolf Detlof, born on 4 July 1850. He grows up to be an officer in Svea Livgarde in Stockholm, marries but has no children.
I don’t know when August and Hedda left Hult, but in the 1880s, Hedda is a leading member of various charity organizations in Stockholm. She serves on the board for The Silent School – a school for deaf children – and helps organizing charity bazaars to support schools and workhouses for children and young adults with intellectual disabilities. Her name is listed among many other leading women of the time: Rosalie Olivecrona (born Rosalie Roos), Thorborg Rappe, Fredrika Limnell, and others.
August dies in Stockholm in 1888 and Hedda in 1905.
PS
When I started to search for Hedda, her life seemed to be one of privilege. Her father had an important position and she socialized with the right families. She married well. Later in life, she worked with other leading women to improve the situation for children with special needs. End of story.
But I found out that her life was so much more complicated because of societal rules and the power of the church.
I wish I could have found out more about Hedda’s mother. And maybe I still will. She was born on an island outside Stockholm where most families were engaged in farming or fishing. She came to the mainland to work as a maid and ended up being a maid to an educated man in Stockholm. Then she got pregnant, unmarried with a lofty promise of marriage. Having a child out of wedlock was against the law. Obviously, she would have had to conceal her pregnancy. And when the time came, she had to give birth in the hospital where she could be anonymous (according to a law of 1778). She would not be able to keep her daughter.
For some reason, her employer (and presumably the father) later allowed the daughter to move in with them when. She would now be promoted to housekeeper and have a maid or two to help her. But there was no marriage in sight and the employer and his “foster daughter” would socialize with other families while she was not recognized as the mother or a wife. It wasn’t until the daughter was of marriage age herself that the employer made good on the promise of marriage.
It is a very sad story.
————————
Sources:
Church records, digitized Swedish newspapers, and Marie-Louise af Forsell’s diaries.
“Marie-Louise af Forsell or Marie-Louise Forsell (5 September 1823 – 3 April 1852), was a Swedish noblewoman diarist. She wrote a diary from the age of sixteen to her death in childbirth at the age of twenty-nine. Her diary was published in four parts by Syster Heijkenskjöld between 1914 and 1917. They became a big success when they were published, and are considered a valuable historical depiction of the everyday conventional life of a Swedish noblewoman in the mid-19th century.”
Feature image by Abraham Solomon. Detail from the painting Waiting for the Verdict.
Little Hilda Theophila Lagerheim was not yet a year old when her name appeared in the daily newspaper in Stockholm. Her name was listed among others – all girls of noble families. The announcement stated that the Board of the House of Nobility on the 2nd of May had accepted the applications of these girls to become maidens of the Vadstena Adliga Jungfrustift. Hilda, still a toddler, now had the title of Stiftsjungfru.
Before getting into the significance of this title, let’s first get back to the birth and childhood of Hilda.
Hilda was born on June 4, 1827. Her father, Olof Johan Lagerheim, was a nobleman and a Supreme Court Justice (thus Hilda’s ranking as 2 of all the 92 girls who were confirmed in St Jacob’s Church in May of 1844). Her mother was Emerentia Frigell, the daughter of a wholesale merchant.
When Hilda was born, the family lived in a wing behind the House of Nobility in the Old Town of Stockholm. The wing was later torn down and today there are two separate houses that serve as wings to the main building.
A few weeks ago, I wrote about another girl in the confirmation class, Therese Gustafva Aspegrén, and how her mother had died in the cholera epidemic of 1834. She also lived in Old Town and not too far from Hilda. The horrors of the epidemic affected them all. Therese’s mother had died on the 13th of September. Hilda’s father died from cholera 4 days earlier, on the 9th. That someone of his eminence would succumb to this disease was so sad, disconcerting, and surprising:
Among more familiar and prominent people who died of cholera was … Justice Olof Johan Lagerheim, an excellent official who was equally valued and liked for his humanity. Lagerheim was extremely active as chairman of his parish’s health committee. To set a good example and to encourage the townspeople, he volunteered to drive the carriage that collected the dead. He fell victim himself and succumbed to the disease from which he had managed to save so many of the congregation’s members. http://runeberg.org/gsthlm/0204.html
The family now had to move, and they moved to a house just a block away from St Jacob’s Church. Hilda’s mother was suddenly a widow at the age of 43 and had 6 children to care for: Ture 16, Louise 15, Nils 12, Carl 10, Hilda 6, and Johanna 3 years old.
Ten years later, in 1844, when Hilda was studying for her upcoming confirmation, the family still lived at this address. But now the mother had become ill. She had developed gangrene and there were no effective treatments for the disease. On the 24th of April, she died and the children became orphans. The funeral was at St Jacob’s Church one week before Hilda’s confirmation.
Vadstena Adliga Jungfrustift
So what was Vadstena Adliga Jungfrustift (Vadstena Noble Maiden Diocese) and what did it mean to have a title of Stiftsjungfru?
Vadstena is a picturesque town in Sweden, famous for its medieval Birgittine Convent and castle.
Walking by the castle in Vadstena on one of our Augusta trips. Photo by Kerstin Melin.
During the renaissance, noble families in Europe looked to convents for educating and supervising their daughters until they were ready for marriage. Unmarried noblewomen and widows whose families were unable to care for them were also in need of financial help and a place to live.
After the reformation, catholic convents were not an option for the protestant noble families. Instead, they started protestant “convents”, so-called jungfrustift for unmarried women of noble families. Jungfru, literally “young woman”, refers to a maiden and stift means a diocese. A woman belonging to a jungfrustift was given the title stiftsjungfru, literally, “diocese maiden”.
There were jungfrustifts in Germany and Denmark. In Sweden, there were two – the one in Vadstena, which started in 1739, and one in Norrköping (1783-1796).
The one in Vadstena had lofty goals and got the King’s permission to use the castle to house the women. The estimated cost of running this convent, however, was prohibitive and in the end, the organization moved to Stockholm and became a simple pension fund in 1822, managed by the House of Nobility.
Vadstena Adliga Jungfrustift still exists. Parents will apply for their daughters when they are young, just like Hilda’s parents did. Today, noblewomen can also apply by themselves. There is a small application fee. To be eligible for the pension, the woman has to be single or a widow. Today, the number of women getting a yearly pension is capped at 100. These are the 100 women with the longest membership.
These rules must have changed, as Hilda, who was still young, received a pension from the fund as published in the daily newspaper. On May 6, 1865, she was listed among those who received 50 RKS RMT yearly; the other cohort received 100. Hilda’s pension would be equivalent to 3500 SEK today, or $424.
The star of Vadstena Adliga Jungfrustift
What happened to Hilda after 1844?
Who took care of Hilda and her siblings after they became orphans? The year was 1844 and the following year, no one in the family lived at their old address. Hilda seems to have disappeared from all digitized church and census records in Stockholm. Some of Hilda’s siblings appear in those records, but not Hilda.
So instead, I search for her in the digitized daily newspapers. And that is where I find the announcements of Vadstena and her pension. And I find her obituary and an advertisement about the subsequent auction of all her belongings. The auction mentions an address – Sjöberg’s Bookstore in the town of Västerås. Would they really have hauled all her things to a bookstore? Then it hits me that maybe she lived in the same house as the bookstore? I check the church records – the pastor’s house examination book, where he yearly checked on each household and made sure they knew how to read and that they knew their bible. And there, I find her name! She is indeed living with the Sjöberg family and now I can and go backward in time through volumes of church records – all her moves from place to place, parish to parish, neatly (or sometimes illegibly) penned down by pastors. It takes me a week to find the crumbs she left behind as she moved around Sweden.
This is her story, but now in chronological order, starting with the year she left Stockholm.
Häringe Castle
In 1848, Hilda is 21 years old. She moves from Stockholm to Häringe Castle in Västerhaninge parish.
Häringe Castle. Today it is a hotel. You can book it on Expedia and have a “yummy breakfast, poolside” as one guest wrote. Times have changed more than Hilda could ever imagine. But we can imagine Hilda sitting in this room some 170 years ago.
Häringe is a castle owned by Baron Axel Wilhelm Löwen (b. 1783). He is married to Lovisa Ehrensvärd (b. 1793). Together they have 5 daughters between the ages of 18 and 26. All the girls were born at an estate that the Löwen family also owned – Glasberga. What an interesting coincidence – my grandfather owned Glasberga manor when my dad was a toddler.
How did Hilda end up at Häringe? She obviously was not hired to be a governess to the daughters as they were all close to her in age.
Ulrika Elin Christina Löwen (b. 1822). One of the daughters in the family. Photo from the House of Nobility.
Could she have been invited to be a lady’s companion to the girls’ mother’s sister, Fredrika Ehrensvärd, who had recently moved in with the family? Or did the family know Hilda’s family and invited her to live with them?
In 1852, the mother, Lovisa Ehrensvärd dies. And in 1855, after 7 years at Häringe, the pastor writes in the house examination book that Hilda has moved away. I check the records of parishioners moving to another parish (that is how I can track her moves – records of moving in and out of parishes) but it simply states that she has been removed from the parish’s records. Where did she go?
Giresta in Rytterne Parish
According to the church records in Rytterne, Hilda is registered as moving into this parish in 1857. That is 2 years after she left Häringe. The records state that she came from Västerhaninge parish, which is correct. Did she go somewhere else for 2 years without registering with a parish?
She has now moved in with a family at an estate by the name of Giresta in Rytterne parish. Giresta is a farm that belongs to a larger estate – Fiholm. Again a surprise as it is a familiar name. My favorite aunt, Aunt Piggen (Marianne Ridderstolpe), was born and raised at Fiholm and I have a wonderful childhood memory of celebrating Midsummer there.
The family residing at Giresta is Baron Adolf Falkenberg (b. 1807) and his wife Eva Fredrika Skjöldebrand (b. 1815) and their 4 children.
Also residing at Giresta is a forester, Johan Fredrik Ludvig Kolbe (b. 1802), his wife Gustafva Hedvig Catharina Rudbeck (b. 1824), and her sister, Fredrika Helena Charlotta Rudbeck (b. 1828).
Interestingly, Forester Kolbe is the brother of Carolina Kolbe, the wife of Fredrik Ridderstolpe (b. 1783) who is the owner of Fiholm and Giresta. In 1861, Forester Kolbe dies and Gustafva is now a widow. She, her sister Fredrika, and Hilda have to move.
Strömsholms Palace
In 1862, the three women move to a beautiful place – Strömsholm in Kohlbäck parish. Strömsholm is a royal palace and has been an equestrian center since the 16th century.
According to the church records, Hilda and the two sisters Rudbeck rent rooms in the house of the palace chamberlain, N.G. Eek. Again, why did they move here? Three young women from noble families.
In December of 1864, Hilda is in the papers again. This time, an upper court has decided that Hilda will not be entitled to managing her own affairs, but to still have a guardian, even though the law has just changed to grant women majority at the age of 25.
What does that mean? Why was she not trusted to take care of herself? And who was her guardian? One of her brothers? Had her guardian brought her case to court or had she requested to still have a guardian? If you had had a guardian taking care of you all your life, not having one might be frightening. A guardian would be responsible for you and make sure you were taken care of.
Hilda and her friends live at Strömsholm for 6 years until 1868, when it is time to move again. And this time, they take two of their maids with them.
Västerås
Västerås is a provincial capital and now, Hilda will be living in a town again. Maybe that was exciting. Hedvig, who is a widow, marries a bookstore owner, Carl Magnus Sjöberg on the 12th of June 1870.
Sjöberg’s Bookstore in Västerås
Two years later, on February 26, 1872, at an age of 44, Hilda dies from chronic pneumonia and acute lung edema. The following August, there is an auction of the belongings, listed as furniture, various household items and other things, and even a hooded buggy.
A hooded buggy from the 1870s
To keep her life story straight, I found that I had to construct a map to get an idea of the places where she had lived.
Hilda’s Siblings
So what happened to Hilda’s siblings?
Ture, the oldest brother, never married and died from a stroke at age 33.
Johanna, her younger sister, also did not marry and died from gastric fever at the age of 27.
Then there was Carl who also did not marry but was a lawyer and worked for the court (Svea Hovrätt) that had decided that Hilda should still have a guardian. Was he her guardian? Carl died in Bellagio in Italy where he was staying to cure an illness. He was 58.
Nils married and had children.
And then there was Louise, Hilda’s older sister. She married Jakob von Knorring, had children, and was a very accomplished artist and musician.
Hilda’s older sister, Louise Emerentia Lagerheim, married von Knorring, with her 3 children: Augusta Emerentia Amalia, Sigrid Elisabeth Lovisa, and Egenolf Alexander Elias. Photo from the House of Nobility.
Therese Gustafva Aspegrén was ranked as girl number 16 out of the 92 girls in our Augusta’s confirmation class. Like so many of the other girls in her class, she had a father who was a wholesale merchant.
Therese Gustafva Aspegrén
Therese was born in Katarina parish on 29 January 1828 to Henric Heliodor Aspegrén (b. 21 November 1789) and Gertrud Christina Wihlborg (b. 5 October 1793). She was one of 9 children:
Anna Maria Henrica (b. 14 June 1819, in Torekov)
Emelie Martina (b. 25 September 1820, in Landskrona)
Christina (b. 18 December 1821, in Storkyrkoförsamlingen, Stockholm)
Sophia Magdalena (b. 26 September 1823, in Storkyrkoförsamlingen, Stockholm)
Lovisa Charlotta (b. 5 February 1826, in Katarina, Stockholm) Therese Gustafva (b. 29 January 1828, in Katarina, Stockholm)
Ebba Mathilda (b. 21 January 1831, in Katarina, Stockholm)
Nils Wilhelm (b. 28 June 1832, in Katarina, Stockholm)
Henric Herman (b. 4 June 1833, in Storkyrkoförsamlingen, Stockholm)
In 1833, the family had moved from Katarina parish to the more desirable address in Old Town – Västerlånggatan 78. And that is where they lived when Therese’s little brother, Henric, was born.
The following year, Therese’s and her siblings’ lives would be changed forever.
Oil painting of an unknown girl by an unknown artist, around 1835.
The Cholera Epidemic of 1834
On August 25, 1834, Stockholm officially declared a cholera outbreak. It would last until the 12th of October. During these 49 days, the official number of cholera cases was 7,895 and 3,277 persons died. In 1834, nobody knew what caused cholera and doctors had limited means of treating patients.
I found a Swedish text, published in 1882, where the authors described a typical day in the life of a middle-class family in Stockholm during the 1834 epidemic. The following is based on some of the text. The full text (in Swedish) can be found at the following link: http://runeberg.org/gsthlm/0204.html
A Typical Day During the 1834 Epidemic
The father of the family and his wife had, as usual, risen early. A few drops, which were supposed to be useful against infection, were taken before the coffee. Although the plague raged, the daily chores had to be carried out. The maid came from the bakery and had a lot to tell the family. She had stood outside the baker’s window for a long time and talked to the madam inside and with the other women outside. The most horrible stories had been told.
A woman had said that in the hospitals those who were taken there were just disposed of. And that the wells were poisoned. That was nothing new. “You see, the rich want to get rid of the poor!”
A cholera-stricken worker from Söder had been taken to the hospital. His dog had followed. Once the patient was in bed, and the nurse was going to give him some medicine, she spilled a few drops on the floor. The dog licked up the drops and died immediately. “That should tell you what kind of medicine it was!”
And a madam from Ladugårdslandet had also been taken to a hospital. A large hole was burned in her scarf from a few drops that fell next to her when she was about to take the medicine. Sure, cholera could be dangerous, but it would still be more dangerous to go to a hospital.
That was the opinion of most people. The stories that circulated grew in numbers and became ever more horrific.
While the children were washed and dressed and told to behave, they listened to the grownup’s stories. They were also told that naughty children would immediately get cholera. But of course, the parents worried about their children. They tied copper plates on each child’s chest to protect against infection. No coppersmith had ever contracted cholera and, therefore, anyone could protect him or herself with such a plate, which was either round or square or triangular with rounded corners, but which would always cover the chest and which hung there and verdigrised to little health benefit until a new type was found – finely polished plates that did not cause any inconvenience. Instead of the plates, or together with them, amulets or silk bags with camphor were also used.
Stomach belts were also common, even for children. The best one was, it was said, the so-called Polish belts, with “the same kind of lining that the Polish army used during the war.” They were sold by hatmaker Brandelius at Gustaf Adolf’s Square.
When the children were fully equipped, they were given a glass of tar-water to drink, and a piece of Calamus root was put in their mouths. It was supposed to be very beneficial and was given to them since they didn’t want to chew garlic (which would have been even more beneficial). They were not allowed to go out and play, because they could easily expose themselves to infection. Besides, a child in the “city” does not have many playgrounds; they often have to stay indoors. More severe was the ban on eating fruits. It was known that at Munkbron, the most delicious plums were sold, but not a single one was brought home by the mother.
The father, who had gone to work early, had already returned from his work and looked worried. Now he had to check how many had fallen ill and died during the last 24 hours. He would find it in the newspaper, Dagbladet. The father, who had taken another teaspoon of double-strength Wormwood drops and felt a pleasant warmth in his stomach, read aloud.
One day, 59 had fallen ill and 25 had died, and 85 were still ill. It was considered a lot, but a few days later, in the last 24 hours, 100 had fallen ill and 46 had died, and 176 were ill. Then the numbers increased for each day, as did the anxiety and worry.
Every morning Dagbladet was read, and in the evening Aftonbladet was consulted. At the beginning of September the number of the sick rose to over 200 a day, 100 died, and 400 remained ill!
“How will this end?” people asked, as they looked around with concern. If you looked through the window, you noticed one stretcher after another being carried past. Those out walking backed up against the walls of the houses in the narrow street. They feared infection from the carriers of the sick, they covered their mouths and noses and turned their heads away. And yet people had to continue with their daily activities.
There were endless disputes about the origin and spread of cholera, if it was contagious or not, how it would be cured, etc. Everyone thought they understood the matter. One said that one should eat only vegetables to avoid cholera. Another claimed that meat was the best. One said he had heard from Söderköping that Dr. Lagberg advocated blood-letting, dozens of leeches on the head, piles of leeches on other parts of the body. The storyteller was suddenly interrupted by a heartbreaking scream from an upper floor. It was someone with cholera writhing in unbearable cramps.
The group who had shared rumors, hastily dispersed. Even those who said they did not believe the cholera was contagious, were suddenly in a great hurry to leave this dangerous neighborhood. After a few hours, the person upstairs with the horrible cramps was just a corpse. The other floors of the house were smoked. One used smoke balls, smoke cards (bought from Benjamin Leja and smelled quite good), raw coffee beans, or smoke men that were for sale in Tjäder’s tobacco shop at Brunkeberg. In the cramped yard stood a pot of tar that smoked the whole house. The air was saturated with the stench of the gutters lining the narrow street, odor from the cholera-sick, and fumes from the many smoke-devices. There was no such thing as fresh air.
The smoke balls were made by mixing 1 lb of powdered sulfur, 1 lb of resin, 1 lb of table salt, 1 ½ lb of tar, 3 oz of purified nitrate, 2 oz of purified camphor, and wheat bran and then forming it into balls the size of walnuts.
It was only in the evening that one got some air, as fresh as could be had in the cholera-infected city. The father took his family on a usual evening walk. They always returned home early. The evenings were already dark, as they were already in the middle of September.
When the family returned home, the evening meal was eaten, which did not always consist of easily digestible foods. The father took his usual vodka for the appetite. Old habits should not be interrupted. Immediately after the heavy meal, one went to bed. At the slightest feeling of nausea, camphor and elderflower tea were taken.
The disease grew alarmingly. From 8 am on September 10th to the same time the next day, 217 people died of cholera, 449 fell ill, and 1,661 remained hospitalized. But from that day on, both the number of the sick and the number of the dead decreased. And by the 12th of October, there were no more reported deaths.
Therese’s Life after the Epidemic
When the epidemic hit in the fall of 1834, the family Aspegrén lived in an apartment in a large house overlooking a town square – Järntorget. There was, of course, no indoor plumbing. There were rows of outhouses behind each large house and water was carried from the pump in the town square. The iron pump in the middle of Järntorget is still standing.
The view from Therese’s apartment at Västerlånggatan 78 (picture taken in 1976). The houses and the square are still the same and the public water pump is still in the middle of the square.
When the cholera epidemic hit, how did the family manage? Were the children allowed to go outside for walks? Therese’s mother was 41 years old and the children ranged in age from 1 to 15 years: Anna (15), Emelie (14), Christina (13), Lovisa (8), Therese (6), Ebba (3), Nils Wilhelm (2), and Henric Herman (1). (Sophia Magdalena must have died before 1833). With all the young children, the family had several live-in maids.
Despite taking all precautions and being pretty well off, Therese’s mother fell ill. On the 13th of September, at the height of the epidemic, mother Gertrud died from cholera. The rest of the family survived.
In May of 1844, when Therese was confirmed in St Jacob’s church, the family was still living at the same address. But in the fall of that same year, she and her oldest sister, Anna, registered their move from Stockholm, as documented in the church records. Anna stated that she was leaving for Finland and Therese was leaving for Karlstad. Therese became a governess in the family of Otto August and Sara August Malmborg at Lilla Wåxnäs. Therese must have been busy as there were 9 children to take care of by 1845. The oldest was 11 years old. In 1847, Therese returned to Stockholm. In later census records, Anna had returned to live with her father but Therese was nowhere to be found.
So Therese didn’t leave many footsteps in the digitized records, but one can still visit her childhood environment. Her childhood home, a house that was built in the 1600s is still standing, and is now…a Burger King restaurant!
Burger King opens in Old Town. The picture is a montage of a hamburger over the old water pump. The house in the background is where Therese and her family lived.
Selma Wretman was ranked as number 11 among the girls who were confirmed in St Jacob’s church in May of 1844 because her father, Fredric Wretman (1791-1857), although not having an important title, was a wholesale merchant with considerable wealth.
Selma was born in Maria Magdalena parish on May 16, 1828. Her mother was Charlotta Fredrika Björling (1795-1890) and she had an older brother, Fredric, and a younger brother, Johan. In 1834, the family lived by Slussen in Stockholm, in a block named Mälaren.
By 1844, the family had moved to Stora Trädgårdsgatan 19 (what is now Gallerian, an indoor shopping center across from the famous department store, NK). In the census records for this year, Fredric Wretman also noted that he was a part-owner of two merchant ships. The other owner was Fredric Sievers who married Selma’s confirmation friend, Johanna Maria Wennberg.
In 1846, Fredric Westman bought a large stone house on Hamngatan 16 with a great view of Kungsträdgården, the expansive park in the center of Stockholm. It was next to an old palace (Sparre’s Palace) which housed a charity home for widows and daughters of the bourgeoisie. Selma would live with her family at Hamngatan 16 most of her life. When Selma married Waldemar Wretman in 1851, Waldemar moved in and they would raise their children in this house. Selma’s mother inherited the house when her father died in 1857.
The house to the right is where Selma lived, Hamngatan 16. The next house (which looks like two houses) is Sparre’s Palace. And the big house in the middle was built in 1866 as an art space for exhibitions and studios. Teodor Blanch opened a cafe on the ground floor in 1868. Photo by Carolina von Knorring (1868-1873).
Marriage and children
Waldemar (1820-1891) and Selma were both first and 2nd degree cousins. But instead of continuing the family tradition of being a wholesale merchant, Waldemar studied law at the University of Uppsala and eventually became a justice of the Swedish Supreme Court (Swedish: Justitieråd) in 1860.
Selma lived a traditional life as a wife and a mother. She gave birth to (as far as I know) 5 children:
Johan (1852-1923). Married and had children.
Anna (1854-1878). Anna died from tuberculosis at the age of 23.
Waldemar (1856-1936). Didn’t marry and had no children.
Sigrid (1858-1859). Sigrid died from bronchitis before her first birthday.
Walborg (1861-1863). Walborg died from measles at the age of 2.
The two youngest girls, Sigrid and Walborg, were born at Kratsboda, the family farm in Bromma parish outside Stockholm. They were both born in the summer and one possible explanation for them not being born in Stockholm might be that with recurring cholera outbreaks in the city, it was safer to give birth in the countryside. Sadly, both girls died as infants from diseases that are now preventable and treatable with vaccines and antibiotics.
Selma and Waldemar had a 40-year long marriage. Waldemar died in 1891 and Selma in 1896.
Waldemar and Selma Wretman in 1864. Watercolors by Claes Fredrik Laurén.
Blanch’s Café
When I tried to find images of Kungsträdgården from the mid-1800s and images of their house, I instead found many of Blanch’s café – an establishment I was not familiar with. When I read about it, I could imagine Selma’s daughter Anna being just the right age to enjoy it:
The year is 1871 and two girls are walking home from St Jacob’s Church in Stockholm. They have just attended the confirmation class with Pastor Lundberg. Anna Wretman and Clary von Schwerin are walking through Kungsträdgården – the Royal Garden – the large park in the middle of Stockholm.
When they get to the end of the park, they decide to have a cup of tea at Blanch’s Café. It is the most elegant café in Stockholm and it is the place to watch people and to be seen. There is a band playing and they get a table far from the cigar-smoking men who are having a lively discussion. Finally, Stockholm has a café that can measure up to those on the continent. And once it gets warmer, they will be able to sit outside in the park and it will be even livelier.
Anna lives just across the street, in a stately house at Hamngatan 16. She has always lived here, playing in Kungsträdgården when she was younger, and she could not imagine living anywhere else. Even her mother, Selma, lived in this house when she was the same age. And like Anna, she had also walked to St Jacob’s Church to attend confirmation class. But of course, there had been no Blanch’s café at that time!
Teodor Blanch was a German entrepreneur, restauranteur, and art dealer. After having been the restauranteur of the famous Opera Cellar (Operakällaren), he had the brilliant idea to establish a café in Kungsträdgården. It would be as grand as those in his hometown of Berlin, with both indoor and outdoor seating. The waiters would wear tail-coats and white tablecloths added to the elegance of the café. There were crystal chandeliers and tropical plants. And, of course, there would be concerts and music all year around. When Blanch’s café opened in 1868 it transformed the social life in Stockholm. Ten years later, Blanch was one of the first restaurateurs who installed electric light!
Blanch’s Cafe. Based on a lithograph by A. Nay. This view could have been from the Selma’s front door at Hamngatan 16.The original lithography from the 1870s
Sager’s Houses
So what happened to Selma’s house at Hamngatan 16? Well, first, a few houses in the same block (the block named Hästen) were demolished for the NK department store. I have previously written about Augusta’s friends, Augusta Holmqvist, Eugenia Björkman, and Charlotta Salomon, who lived in those houses. Selma’s house and the house next door (Hamngatan 14) were spared and bought by the brothers Edvard and Robert Sager in 1888. The houses were beautifully remodeled and became known as the Sager Houses.
In the 1960s, the city government decided that the two houses should be demolished to provide space for a new bank building. Many opposed these plans and called for the houses to be preserved for their historical and architectural significance. Despite the public outcry, the houses were demolished.
The department store NK on the left, Selma’s house (Hamngatan 16) in the middle, and Hamngatan 14 on the right. The two houses were referred to as the Sager Houses and later demolished.Kungsträdgården, probably about 1859-1860 (The large house on the right is Davidson’s House which was finished in 1859. As there is no grove of elm trees in the park, the photo must have been taken before they were planted around 1860.) Photo from Stockholm City Museum. At the end of the park, the house furthest to the left, and partially hidden by St Jacob’s Church, is Selma’s house, Hamngatan 16.
“to imagine, quite vividly… “
I was delighted to discover that Selma has descendants today in Sweden. Maybe they have a family archive with diaries and correspondence?
It was Selma’s son, Johan, who had a family and children. But the most fascinating discovery was that he wrote a handbook on Swedish genealogy which was published in 1916 (Swedish title: Kort Handbok i Svensk Släktforskning). It might even be the first published handbook in Sweden on how to find your ancestors?
And this is what he wrote:
If the researcher also have access to documents that provide information about more important stages in the lives of the deceased, estate records – drawn up at their death, or letters to and from them, which together with written or oral family traditions give knowledge of their characters and inner life; then it becomes so much easier, with the help of some imagination – if one has been bestowed with that gift – to imagine quite vividly, how these ancestors in their time worked and lived, married and gave birth to children, rejoiced and suffered, and finally, early or late, passed away.
So here is to Johan Wretman – I hope he would have approved of me imagining his sister Anna visiting Blanch’s Café on her way home from St Jacob’s Church!
Footnote:
Selma’s daughter Anna also attended St Jacob’s Church and was confirmed in 1871. She was ranked as number 1 of the girls in the confirmation class that year, because her father was a justice of the Supreme Court. Her friend Clary von Schwerin was ranked as number 2, because her father was a count, Count Fredric (Figge) Bogislaus von Schwerin. Her father is mentioned in our Augusta’s diary:
Stockholm, March 1851
Monday morning I went to visit Ribbingens and Bohemans. They were overly astonished to see me so unexpectedly in the Capital City, and in the evening we saw the great opera, “A Tale of the Queen of Navarre.” There I met Count Figge Schwerin, who escorted me home and was quite himself, much disposed to let his lady alone carry on the conversation and himself look like he was sleepwalking.
Well, Figge von Schwerin married and had a daughter named Clary.
