The Last Letter Home

by Vilhelm Moberg

  “Now you’ve heard it! Now you know!”

  Ulrika pulled out a kitchen chair for Karl Oskar. “Sit down! I’ll explain everything to you. The doctor said to tell you all!”

  She had a fire going in the stove and she blew at it to make a draft; between puffs she talked in broken sentences:

  After Dr. Farnley had been alone with Kristina for half an hour and examined her thoroughly, he called in Ulrika. Farnley had found injuries in Kristina’s womb; a membrane in there was torn and wounded. The blood had come from the womb and this was easy to understand when one knew there were open sores in there. But the injuries could be healed and then the bleedings would stop. Farnley had given Kristina two kinds of medicine to take three times daily, and she must eat well and not do any heavy chores.

  But first and foremost the doctor had ordered her to bring an urgent message to Mrs. Nilsson’s husband: If he wished to keep his wife alive he must stay away from her from now on. He must never again make her pregnant.

  Mrs. Jackson’s face stiffened. She leaned toward Karl Oskar, her voice severe:

  “Farnley said, word for word: Next childbed will be her death! Now you’ve heard it in English!”

  Karl Oskar Nilsson had received the report in clear words, in two languages. He had heard it in their old mother tongue, and in their new. In Swedish and English he had been told: Next childbed will be Kristina’s death.

  “I’ve told Kristina, of course, but she doesn’t think of herself. But she asked me to tell you about it.”

  Karl Oskar stood with bent head, his ears buzzed, his cheeks burned, there was a weight across his chest. He stood close to Ulrika, he could hear every word she said, understood every one of them. But his mind would not follow, it had stopped with those six words, and it was those he heard all the time, drowning out all other sounds in the world.

  “Your wife will get well again if you take good care of her. Be kind to Kristina, don’t ever make her pregnant again.”

  Karl Oskar was beginning to feel insulted. Who was this woman to warn him how to take care of his wife? What did she think of him! Why did he keep listening to her admonitions? Why wasn’t he angry? Why didn’t he speak up to her? Why couldn’t he answer Ulrika in one single word? But he only stood quietly and chewed and stared.

  “I’m sorry for you, Karl Oskar. Because from now on you must lie in the ox pen!”

  Couldn’t that woman there shut her trap! But of course, it was Ulrika of Västergöhl, and no one as yet had made her shut up. Perhaps not even an earthquake would do it. Maybe God on doomsday might.

  Karl Oskar had lost his power of speech. He tried to moisten his lips with his tongue, but his tongue was as dry as his lips. At last, with great effort, he managed to stutter forth a few words—he thanked Ulrika for her help at the doctor’s.

  That was all he managed; and what more could he say?

  What does a man say at the moment when he is forever banished from his wife?

  —2—

  A lumberjack from Center City was to ride back with them on their sleigh, so Karl Oskar and Kristina could not talk about Dr. Farnley on the way home. No words on the subject passed between them until they were ready to go to bed that evening. Since they had moved into the new house, they had each occupied a bed in the large room, while the children slept in the gable room and the kitchen. Tonight the children were asleep and the house had grown silent.

  Karl Oskar began, “How was it at the doctor’s?”

  Kristina was unbuttoning her blouse; she swallowed a little. “It was horrible and repulsive.”

  “Did he hurt you . . . ?”

  “The doctor was very gentle, but I guess he had to hurt me. Oh, I was so embarrassed I had to force myself . . . No one lets himself be treated that way for the fun of it! Don’t ask me to talk about it!”

  “You needn’t, Kristina . . .”

  He went on: Perhaps he had worried as much as she about this trip to the doctor. He had been afraid it might be some incurable disease. Now he felt relieved, for hadn’t the doctor told Ulrika that the bleedings and the pain might be relieved? If they followed the doctor’s instructions, she might regain her health and strength.

  “Didn’t Ulrika tell you everything?”

  “Yes, yes of course . . .”

  “Then you know: I’m no good any more. I’m a useless woman.”

  “But you’ll get your health back—that’s the only thing that matters.”

  “But I’m no use to you, Karl Oskar. I’m discarded . . .” Her voice thickened in a cry.

  “You heard me—only one thing matters . . .”

  “I’m a useless woman, you’ve no wife any longer, Karl Oskar.”

  She sat down heavily on her bed; her body trembled and slumped down. The tears came. She threw herself on her stomach and hid her face.

  For many years Karl Oskar had not seen his wife cry. In every situation she had remained calm and controlled. But today, at the doctor’s, she had experienced something entirely new. Tonight her strength had deserted her.

  “You must be terribly tired, I’m sure . . .”

  He sat down beside her on the bed and put his arm around her shoulder. Her crying was muffled, almost soundless. She tried to choke back her tears but they flowed evenly, quietly.

  He said nothing; it would do no good just now, this he understood. But all the time he kept his arm on her shoulder; she must know he was there with her, ready to help.

  Kristina’s hand sought his. Silent, they knew each other’s thoughts. So it had been many times. Perhaps they understood each other best in silence. In speech they had difficulty in finding words, in speech they never came close enough. But in a moment like this there was no need for words; between them was nothing left that words could explain.

  In moments when there was nothing to say they came closest to each other. Then they felt most strongly what they meant to each other.

  At last she made a decisive motion and sat up. Her tears had stopped. “I ought to feel ashamed—old woman that I am! I shouldn’t be a crybaby any more!”

  “There’s no shame in tears if one needs them.”

  She looked at him with wide, glazed eyes where the tears quivered. “I’m so sad about my uselessness—that’s why I cried.”

  “You shouldn’t reproach yourself. No one is to blame. No one can help it.”

  “There must never be another time . . . we must never . . . that’s why we must . . .”

  “I know,” he interrupted, and looked away. “Ulrika has made it quite clear to me.”

  “The doctor forbids us to be together . . . we must stay away from each other . . . Did you hear that, Karl Oskar?”

  “Yes, I heard it . . .”

  “What do you think . . . ?”

  What could he say? Need he say anything? She knew so well what he thought.

  Those six words were still buzzing in his head. He turned them over, back and forth, changed them:

  Next childbirth will be Kristina’s death.

  It didn’t help; however much he turned and changed, the word death was always there.

  Therefore you must never touch her again. She cannot stand to be pregnant again. Next time it will be her death.

  They had always had it good together, he and she. When he had his wife it was his greatest bliss in life. During the day he would go about in expectant joy at the thought of evening and their own moment. So it had been for him ever since in his youth they had found each other. And he knew she felt the same. There were wives who didn’t care, who would just as soon have their men stay away from them. Kristina was not one of them. She too had her joy in their being together. She had said as much many times: He mustn’t think that she liked it less than he. And lately she had said it more often than before. She was a shy woman, but when they were together her shyness disappeared. It might happen she was the first to express the wish: Tonight! He was her husband, it was God’s intent that in lust also they should give each other joy
.

  Their moments together confirmed to her that they desired each other as much as in youth, that they were still in love.

  But from now on it would be forbidden to them to be together. She had asked him what he thought of it and he hadn’t answered, for he felt she knew. No words were needed in this matter.

  “Karl Oskar—I’m thinking about something . . .”

  “Yes

  “Do you believe the Lord God has inflicted this upon us?”

  Her question surprised him. He himself would never have thought of it. “What do you think?”

  “I doubt it. We only know what the doctor in Stillwater said. Why would God begrudge us being together?”

  “But we must follow what the doctor said . . .”

  “He is only a human being like the rest of us.”

  “We must obey him anyway.”

  “But how can he know if I can stand a childbed or not? Someone else is the all-knowing.”

  Karl Oskar rose slowly from his wife’s bed: “We must do only one thing: See to it that you get well and strong again! And now we must go to bed, tonight as always.”

  So at last they went to rest in their house, in the same room, in separate beds, at opposite sides of the room.

  During their marriage of almost twenty years they had shared the day’s labor and the night’s rest. From this day on they were banished from each other during the night; their living together as man and woman was finished.

  —3—

  A settler wife’s evening prayer:

  . . . dear God and Creator! Tonight as all nights I surrender to your mercy before I go to sleep. I’ve been to a medical man today and sought aid for my pain, but you must not think that I trust him more than you, my Lord. He is only a frail human, like myself, and he can do nothing if he doesn’t get his knowledge from the Almighty. You alone rule! If you bless the doctor’s medicine then only will it heal me.

  You mustn’t think, dear God, that his words frightened me in any way. Who knows if I ever will be strong enough to bear another child? You are the only one to know if the next childbed will be my death or not. I’ll come to my end when it’s your will that I shall.

  You know how much Karl Oskar and I have loved each other since youth. You know we have been together in sickness and lust. Can it be your will that we must not know each other from now on? Not be together as married people after this? Can you mean that we must stay apart all the time we have left?

  Dear God! You know that we, according to your commandments, have kept our conjugal promises and through all the years lived harmoniously and in compassion. My husband has never desired anyone else and I just as little. Karl Oskar has never looked at another woman and I never at a man. Therefore, forgive us if we feel that we should be together as before during the time we have left together here in this world.

  Is it only a human whim that we must live apart? I ask your opinion. You will let me know what the actual truth is. If this is a trial from you, then I’ll accept it in humility. I’m only a simple, unschooled woman, but I seek your hand when I’m in doubt and need your advice.

  And I pray you, dear God, as always: The children, especially Frank and Ulrika, are so tender still; don’t make my little ones motherless before they have grown bigger.

  Bless and keep all of us who sleep in our beds this night in the whole wide world! Amen!

  VIII

  THE LETTER FROM SWEDEN

  Åkerby, Ljuder Parish,

  February 19, Anno 1862.

  Dear Brother Karl Oskar Nilsson,

  Health and Blessing

  I will sit down and write a few Lines to tell you that our Mother is dead, which happened the 3rd inst. She left this Life and entered Eternity at half past seven in the Evening of said date. The years of her Life were 67, 2 Months and a few Days. Our Mothers death-suffering was short, as She came to her End by a sudden Stroke. The day before we had found her on the Ground, her senses gone; she remained unconscious until She died the following Evening.

  A few days before Christmas our Mother received the Money you had sent her in a draft of Five dollars. We got the money at the Bank in Växjö, it amounted to 18 riksdaler Swedish money. Mother asked to thank you heartily. The last Time I spoke to her before she died she told me not to forget to Write to you in North America and thank you for the great Christmas Gift. Our Mother was buried the 9th inst. we had a quiet Funeral. Auction and Settlement we have also had after her, everything belonging to the Estate carefully noted down as it was at the Hour of Death. The papers will go to Court and then we two surviving heirs will divide the Balance. Your share will be sent to you.

  Both our beloved Parents are now gone from Time. It is not in our Power to stop the Guest called death. When a relative lies on Bier we may mirror Ourselves each time and see what shall happen to us.

  Forgive my poor writing, I can not put my thoughts on Paper. But we hope to hear from you and forget not your Sister in Sweden. We are only the two of us left now. We had once a happy childhood home and we must not forget each other in this Life.

  Best Wishes Brother,

  Written Down by your devoted Sister

  Lydia Karlsson.

  Part Two

  The Astrakhan Apples

  Are Ripe

  IX

  THE RIVER OR THE FONT?

  —1—

  The Swedish immigrants in the St. Croix Valley had become divided in religious matters. In recent years Baptist and Methodist congregations had been established, and many other sects were proselytizing among the Lutherans. Most numerous were the Baptists, whose revivalist Fredrik Nilsson was very active among his countrymen. The Lutheran ministers considered him the most dangerous sectarian in Minnesota.

  Fredrik Nilsson had been a seaman and had sailed the seven seas. Already in 1851 he had been exiled from Sweden for preaching immersion. He had sought asylum in North America and settled in Waconia in Carver County, where he had founded a Baptist congregation and built a church. From there he spread the new teaching to other Swedish settlements. His countrymen were disturbed to hear that he had been banished from Sweden because of his faith, and this made it easier for him to gain converts. Nilsson came to St. Paul to preach and on one single day he baptized thirty-seven Swedes in the Mississippi River. Then he traveled to Taylors Falls and preached, founded a Baptist congregation, and immersed twenty-two persons in the St. Croix River.

  But when it was rumored that Fredrik Nilsson would come and preach to the Lutherans at Chisago Lake, their pastor issued an order from the pulpit: No home must be opened to this uncouth, unschooled sailor who was not ordained as a church official! No member of their parish must open his house to this false teacher who was trying to gain a foothold in their community!

  Johannes Stenius, the new pastor, was more rigid against sectarians than had been his predecessors. He considered it a shepherd’s first duty to fight irreligion and guard his entrusted flock against dispersal. In almost every sermon, he warned his listeners against the lost souls who were allowed to roam this country at will. He bitterly deplored the lawmakers of North America who, with entirely wrong ideas concerning spiritual freedom, had failed to safeguard the only true and right religion, the Lutheran. In Sweden Lutheranism was protected by the police authorities, but in America it was completely unguarded, so that simple and uneducated people were an easy prey. In Sweden false prophets were exiled or jailed on bread and water, but here they were honored and considered more important than those consecrated by God to preach his Holy Word.

  This dart thus hurled against the Baptist preacher Fredrik Nilsson by the Lutheran minister had a result quite contrary to the one intended. At least ten different people offered him a room in which to preach. And he came to Center City and preached from Luke 2:7: “. . . because there was no room for them in the inn . . .” After the sermon a Baptist congregation was established among the Chisago people and twenty-four were baptized in the waters of the lake.

  Great exci
tement followed in the Lutheran congregation; some twenty members, after hearing Nilsson preach, left the church and were baptized, and others wavered in their Lutheran faith. Women especially were open to the former sailor’s preaching. And Pastor Stenius issued still stronger warnings from his pulpit: His flock must consider its eternal welfare and not be blinded by the Baptist will-o’-the-wisp; women, with their inherited ignorance, were more easily a prey to this convert-maker. Each time a woman was led astray, Pastor Stenius could hear the angels cry in heaven and the devils roar with joyous laughter in hell.

  Then, in one sermon, he issued a stern order to all married men to watch their wives and prevent them from being ensnared in sectarianism. This irritated many of the women: How much must they take from the pulpit? Great disputes started in the congregation. Karl Oskar Nilsson spoke out to their new pastor: He had recently come from Sweden and they realized he did not understand the temper among the settlers; here in America they no longer obeyed orders from the clergy. The pastor had no authority over them; he was their servant. He did not decide what they should do, he was not their master, it wasn’t like the old country. They had no wish for a new church power, they were glad to be rid of the old.

  Pastor Stenius replied haughtily that he was not employed as the congregation’s servant; in his office he obeyed only God.

  A few settlers were angered because the pastor had called them Sabbath breakers when they harvested their crop on a Sunday. No sensible person could harbor such exaggerated ideas about God’s protection that they could leave their dry crops in the fields when they saw rain coming. They appreciated the pastor’s zeal, but the shepherd’s care must not force them to lose their livelihood. Even in good things, many felt, their new pastor overdid it.

  The congregation was now threatened with a serious disruption. And some said the pastor himself had caused this.

  —2—

  After the visit to Dr. Farnley in Stillwater Karl Oskar saw to it that Kristina followed the doctors orders. She took her medicine, avoided the heaviest chores, and lay down to rest for a time each day. Already after a few weeks she began to feel stronger. The bleedings diminished and soon stopped entirely, while her appetite and strength returned. And when the sun again began to feel warm after the coldest winter they had ever experienced, she quickened for every day. Never had she been so glad to hear the first dripping from the eaves, never had she felt such joy at seeing the first blades of grass sprouting, never had a spring brought her such fresh renewal.