I set out from Fredericstadt about three o'clock in the afternoon,and expected to reach Stromstad before the night closed in;but the wind dying away,the weather became so calm that we scarcely made any perceptible advances towards the opposite coast,though the men were fatigued with rowing.
Getting amongst the rocks and islands as the moon rose,and the stars darted forward out of the clear expanse,I forgot that the night stole on whilst indulging affectionate reveries,the poetical fictions of sensibility;I was not,therefore,aware of the length of time we had been toiling to reach Stromstad.And when I began to look around,I did not perceive anything to indicate that we were in its neighbourhood.So far from it,that when I inquired of the pilot,who spoke a little English,I found that he was only accustomed to coast along the Norwegian shore;and had been only once across to Stromstad.But he had brought with him a fellow better acquainted,he assured me,with the rocks by which they were to steer our course,for we had not a compass on board;yet,as he was half a fool,I had little confidence in his skill.There was then great reason to fear that we had lost our way,and were straying amidst a labyrinth of rocks without a clue.
This was something like an adventure,but not of the most agreeable cast;besides,I was impatient to arrive at Stromstad,to be able to send forward that night a boy to order horses on the road to be ready,for I was unwilling to remain there a day without having anything to detain me from my little girl,and from the letters which I was impatient to get from you.
I began to expostulate,and even to scold the pilot,for not having informed me of his ignorance previous to my departure.This made him row with more force,and we turned round one rock only to see another,equally destitute of the tokens we were in search of to tell us where we were.Entering also into creek after creek which promised to be the entrance of the bay we were seeking,we advanced merely to find ourselves running aground.
The solitariness of the scene,as we glided under the dark shadows of the rocks,pleased me for a while;but the fear of passing the whole night thus wandering to and fro,and losing the next day,roused me.I begged the pilot to return to one of the largest islands,at the side of which we had seen a boat moored.As we drew nearer,a light through a window on the summit became our beacon;but we were farther off than I supposed.
With some difficulty the pilot got on shore,not distinguishing the landing-place;and I remained in the boat,knowing that all the relief we could expect was a man to direct us.After waiting some time,for there is an insensibility in the very movements of these people that would weary more than ordinary patience,he brought with him a man who,assisting them to row,we landed at Stromstad a little after one in the morning.
It was too late to send off a boy,but I did not go to bed before Ihad made the arrangements necessary to enable me to set out as early as possible.
The sun rose with splendour.My mind was too active to allow me to loiter long in bed,though the horses did not arrive till between seven and eight.However,as I wished to let the boy,who went forward to order the horses,get considerably the start of me,Ibridled in my impatience.
This precaution was unavailing,for after the three first posts Ihad to wait two hours,whilst the people at the post-house went,fair and softly,to the farm,to bid them bring up the horses which were carrying in the first-fruits of the harvest.I discovered here that these sluggish peasants had their share of cunning.Though they had made me pay for a horse,the boy had gone on foot,and only arrived half an hour before me.This disconcerted the whole arrangement of the day;and being detained again three hours,Ireluctantly determined to sleep at Quistram,two posts short of Uddervalla,where I had hoped to have arrived that night.
But when I reached Quistram I found I could not approach the door of the inn for men,horses,and carts,cows,and pigs huddled together.
From the concourse of people I had met on the road I conjectured that there was a fair in the neighbourhood;this crowd convinced me that it was but too true.The boisterous merriment that almost every instant produced a quarrel,or made me dread one,with the clouds of tobacco,and fumes of brandy,gave an infernal appearance to the scene.There was everything to drive me back,nothing to excite sympathy in a rude tumult of the senses,which I foresaw would end in a gross debauch.What was to be done?No bed was to be had,or even a quiet corner to retire to for a moment;all was lost in noise,riot,and confusion.
After some debating they promised me horses,which were to go on to Uddervalla,two stages.I requested something to eat first,not having dined;and the hostess,whom I have mentioned to you before as knowing how to take care of herself,brought me a plate of fish,for which she charged a rix-dollar and a half.This was making hay whilst the sun shone.I was glad to get out of the uproar,though not disposed to travel in an incommodious open carriage all night,had I thought that there was any chance of getting horses.
