Part 23 (2/2)

Next morning I hired a small sort of gig of a very primitive construction, with a boy for driver. His duty was to carry me to the next post-house, and there leave me to be carried forward by another similar conveyance. But the pony No. 2 was about a mile off, occupied in drawing a plough, so that I had to wait until the job was over.

In about an hour or so I was again under weigh. And so on da capo, until about six in the evening, when I found myself within sight of the great mine. The post-house where I was set down was an inn, though without a signboard. The landlady was a bright, cheery, jolly woman.

She could not speak a word of English, nor I a word of Dannemora Swedish. I was very thirsty and hungry, and wanted something to eat.

How was I to communicate my wishes to the landlady? I resorted, as I often did, to the universal language of the pencil. I took out my sketch-book, and in a few seconds made a sketch of a table, with a dish of smoking meat upon it, a bottle and a gla.s.s, a knife and fork, a loaf, a saltcellar, and a corkscrew. She looked at the drawing and gave a hearty laugh. She nodded pleasantly, showing that she clearly understood what I wanted. She asked me for the sketch, and went into the back garden to show it to her husband, who inspected it with great delight. I went out and looked about the place, which was very picturesque. After a short time, the landlady came to the door and beckoned me in, and I found spread out on the table everything that I desired--a broiled chicken, smoking hot from the gridiron, a bottle of capital home-brewed ale, and all the et ceteras of an excellent repast. I made use of my pencil in many ways. I always found that a sketch was more useful than a blundering sentence. Besides, it generally created a sympathy between me and my entertainers.

[Image] The order for dinner

My visit to the Dannemora Mine at Osterby was one of peculiar interest.

I may in the first place say that the immense collection of iron ore at that point has been the result of the upheaval of a vast volume of molten igneous ore, which has been injected into the rock, or deposited in ma.s.ses under the crust of the earth. In some cases the quarried ore yields from 50 to 70, and even as much as 90 per cent of iron.

The Dannemora Mine is a vast quarry open to the sky. When you come near it the place looks like a vast deep pit, with an unfathomable bottom.

Ghostlike, weird-looking pinnacles of rocks stand out from its profound depths; but beyond these you see nothing but wreaths of smoke curling up from below. The tortuous chasm in the earth, caused by the quarries beneath, is about half a mile long, and about a thousand feet wide.

[Image] Dannemora iron mine. After a drawing by James Nasmyth.

The first process of the workmen in the quarries below is devoted to breaking into small fragments the great ma.s.ses of ore scattered about by the previous night's explosions. These are sent to the surface in great tubs attached to wire ropes, which are drawn up by gins worked by horses. Other miners are engaged in boring blast holes in the ore, which displays itself in great wide veins in the granite sides of the vast chasm. These blast holes are charged with gunpowder, each with a match attached. At the end of the day the greater number of the miners are drawn up in the cages or tubs, while a few are left below to light the slow-burning matches attached to about a hundred charged bore holes. The rest of the miners are drawn up, and then begins the tremendous bombardment. I watched the progress of it from a stage projecting over the wild-looking yawning gulph. It was grand to hear the succession of explosions that filled the bottom of the mine far beneath me. Then the volumes of smoke, through the surface of which ma.s.ses of rock were sometimes sent whirling up into the clear blue sky, and fell back again into the pit below. Such an infernal cannonade I have never witnessed. In some respects it reminded me of the crater of Vesuvius, from which such dense clouds of steam and smoke and fire are thrown up. In the course of the night, the suffocating smoke and sulphureous gases has time to pa.s.s away, and next morning the workmen were ready to begin their operations as before.

The ore extracted from this great mine is smelted in blast furnaces with wood charcoal, and forged into bars. The charcoal is, of course, entirely free from sulphur. When sent to Sheffield the iron is placed in fire-brick troughs closely surrounded by powdered charcoal.

After a few days' exposure to red heat, the iron is converted into splendid steel, which has given such a reputation to that great manufacturing town. It is also the steel from which the firm of Stubbs and Company, of Warrington (to which I have already referred), produce their famous P.S. files.

After the explosions had ceased at the mine, I went with one of the managers to see the great Bar forge. It was a picturesque sight to see the forgemen at work with the tilt hammers under the glowing light of the furnaces. I inspected the machinery and forge works throughout, and had thus the opportunity of seeing the whole proceeding, from the blasting and quarrying of the ore in the mine, the forging and rolling of the worked iron into their proper lengths, down to the final stamp or ”mark” driven in by the blow of the tilt hammer at the end of each bar. Having now thoroughly examined everything connected with this celebrated iron mine, I prepared to set out for Stockholm in the same way as I had come. To prepare the landlord for my setting out, I again resorted to my pencil. I made a drawing of the little gig and pony, with the sun rising, and the hour at which I wished to start.

He understood it in a moment, and next morning the trap was at the door at the specified time.

Before I left Stockholm I made a careful and elaborate panoramic sketch of the city, as a companion to the one I had made of Genoa from the harbour a year before. I made this one from the summit of the King's Park, which is the favourite pleasure-ground of the people.

I was ferried across in a little paddle-wheel boat, worked by Dalecarlian women in their peculiar costumes. The King's Park, or Djurgard, is doubly beautiful, not only from its panoramic view of the city, the Malar Lake, and the arm of the Baltic, which comes up to the Skeppsbron Quay, but also from the magnificent oak trees with which it is studded. These n.o.ble trees, as foreground objects, are perfect pictures. The ma.s.ses of rock are grand, and the drives are beautifully kept. No wonder that the Swedes are so proud of this beautiful park, for it is the finest in Europe.

I left Stockholm for Gottenburg by steamer. This is one of the most picturesque routes in Sweden. First, we pa.s.sed through the Malar Lake --one of the most beautiful pieces of water in the world. It contains no less than fourteen hundred islands, mostly covered with wood.

Of course we did not see one twentieth part of the lake; we only steamed along its eastern sh.o.r.e for about twenty miles on our way to Sodertelye, where the Gotha Ca.n.a.l begins. We then reached the small Maran Lake, and afterwards an arm of the Baltic. We pa.s.sed numberless islands and rocks and reached the Slatbacken Fiord, which we entered.

Beautiful scenery surrounds the entrance to the fiord. In the morning, after rising up the locks between Mariehop and Wenneberga, and pa.s.sing through Lakes Roxen and Boren, we found ourselves at Motala, near the entrance to the Wettern Lake.

Motala is a place of great importance in the manufacturing industry of Sweden. When I visited it, the iron-foundry was in charge of Mr. Caulson, a native of the country. I had known him some years before in London, and had the highest opinion of his ability as a constructive engineer. He was surrounded at Motala with everything in the way of excellently arranged workshops, good machine tools, as well as abundant employment for them. Indeed, this is the largest iron-foundry in Sweden, where iron steamers, steam-engines, and rolling mills are made. From its central position it has a great future before it.

The steamer crosses the lake to Carlsborg, at the entrance to the fiord and ca.n.a.l that leads to Lakes Wiken and Wenern. The latter is an immense lake--in fact, an inland sea. During a great part of the time we were out of sight of land. At length we reached Wenersborg, and pa.s.sed down the Charles Ca.n.a.l. A considerable time is required to enable the steamer to pa.s.s from lock to lock--nine locks in all-- down to the level of the Gotha River. During that time an opportunity was afforded us for seeing the famous Trollhatten Falls--a very fine piece of Nature's workmans.h.i.+p.

[Image] Part of Trollhatten Falls

Before leaving the subject of Sweden, I feel that I must say a word or two about the Swedish people. I admired them exceedingly.

They are tall, fair, good-looking. They are among the most civil and obliging people that I have ever met. I never encountered a rude word or a rude look from them. In their homes they are simple and natural.

I liked the pleasing softness of their voices, so sweet and musical-- ”a most excellent thing in woman.” There was a natural gentleness in their deportment. All cla.s.ses, even the poorest, partook of it.

Their domestic habits are excellent. They are fond of their homes; and, above all things, they are clean and tidy. They strew the floors of their ground apartments with spruce pine twigs, which form a natural carpet as well as give out a sweet balsamic perfume. These are swept away every morning and replaced with fresh material.

With their many virtues, the Swedes are a most self-helping people.

They are hard-working and honest, true and straightforward.

In matters of commerce they are men of their word. They are clear-headed, honest-minded, and keen in their desire for knowledge.

Their natural simple common sense enables them to clear away all parasitical and traditional rubbish from their minds, and to stand before us as men of the highest excellence. All happiness and prosperity to dear old Sweden!

I set out from Gottenburg to Helsingborg, along the sh.o.r.es of the Kattegat. From Helsingborg I crossed the Sound by a small steamer to Elsinore, famous for its connection with Hamlet, Prince of Denmark.

The old dreary looking castle still stands there. From Elsinore I went to Copenhagen, and occupied myself for a few days in visiting the wonderful museums. There I saw, in the Northern Antiquities Collection, the unwritten history of civilisation in the stone, bronze, and iron tools which have brought the world to what it is now.

This museum is perfectly unrivalled. I saw there the first section of kitchen-middens--that is, the refuse of oyster sh.e.l.ls, fish-bones, and other stuff thrown out by the ancient inhabitants of the country after their meals; together with acc.u.mulations of rude stone implements, kelts, arrow-heads, and such like.

Then there were the articles of the Bronze Age, with war trumpets; the articles of the early Iron Age, which also contain some remarkable golden war horns. These are followed by the middle Iron Age, and then by the later Iron Age. This part of the collection is superb.

But it is impossible for me to describe the wonders of the museum.

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