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IS 4.2 Story of an Emigrant.
At that time America was little known in our part of the
country, only a few persons having emigrated from the whole
district. But we knew that it was a new country, inhabited
by a free and independent people, that it had a liberal
government and great natural resources, and these inducements
were sufficient for us. My parents readily consented to my
emigration, and, having made the necessary preparations,
my father took my friend Eustrom and myself down to the
coast with his own horses, in the first part of May, 1851.
It was a memorable evening, and I shall never forget the
last farewell to my home, in driving out from the court into
the village street, how I stood up in the wagon, turned
towards the dear home and waved my hat with a hopeful
hurrah to the "folks I left behind." A couple of
days’journey brought us to a little seaport, where we took leave of
my father and boarded a small schooner for the city of
Gothenburg.
At that time there were no ocean steamers and no emigrant
agents; but we soon found a sailing vessel bound for America
on which we embarked as passengers, furnishing our own
bedding, provisions and other necessaries, which our mothers
had supplied in great abundance. About one hundred and
fifty emigrants from different parts of Sweden were on board
the brig Ambrosius. In the middle of May she weighed
anchor and glided out of the harbor on her long voyage
across the ocean to distant Boston.
We gazed back at the vanishing shores of the dear
fatherland with feelings of affection, but did not regret the step
we had taken, and our bosoms heaved with boundless hope.
At the age of eighteen, the strong, healthy youth takes a
bright and hopeful view of life, and so did we. Many and
beautiful were the air-castles wre built as we stood on deck,
with our eyes turned towards the promised land of the
Nineteenth century. To some of these castles our lives have
given reality, others are still floating before us.
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