by Jens Kuhn
“A very good question, Mr. Reeman. However, from my experience in the Arctic, we will not. You see, it is not the ice itself that damages ships, it is the movement of it. When the ice moves with the ship trapped in it, the ice will press onto the hull and damage it eventually. But, if the ice is still and does not move, the ship sits in it like in a cradle and will be fine.”
“I see.” Reeman did not look entirely convinced.
“This is why it is so important that we anchor – or moor – in a place where the water is sheltered and the ice does not move. Fortunately, in between these islands, there is very little movement of the ice. It is much worse in the open waters of the Arctic, or, as we have done, when one moors directly to an iceberg just like it was a dock.”
The lieutenant’s eyes widened. “You can moor a ship directly to the ice?”
“Yes, sometimes there is no other alternative. The whalers do it all the time. They get their drinking water from the ice, do you see?”
Reeman swallowed. Baker looked at him, smiling broadly now.
“So you see, what we are up to is nothing in comparison. There will probably be lots of ships in the ice at Dalarö. You will see.”
Chapter 3 – The ride to town
It was a glorious winter morning. Very cold indeed, but the sky was pale blue and the low sun was shining enough to make the whiteness of snow and ice glitter. Anna was slowly walking towards the edge of the frozen lake. The snow was almost knee deep, but there was a path that had been trampled down by the servants going for ice or water and of course by the horses and the sleigh that had been moved to the lake this morning.
She was dressed for travel. One of af Klint’s old cloaks over her dress and an old fur cap that covered not only her head but her ears as well as woolen mittens. Perhaps not the most endearing outfit she could imagine, but having several hours of travel in freezing temperatures ahead of her, she found comfort more important than looks.
Halfway down to the lake, Anna stopped and turned around, looking at the house where she had been living all these past weeks. She sighed. This was as close to paradise she would ever be. As close to happiness. Whatever was going to happen to her in the future, she would always remember this time of unconditional love and passion, these weeks of closeness with Eric. Of course, she was quite sure that this could not last. After all, there was still a war on, and Eric was an officer of the king. And she was a spy. When this winter was over, they would have to go back to their businesses, respectively, and that would surely tear them apart, would it not?
Anna continued towards the shore and the sleigh that waited there. It was old, an all wooden contraption with a single bench for passengers, a trunk at the back that could hold baggage or cargo. Two solemn looking horses waited patiently for their working day to begin. The groom was standing next to the sleigh, waiting.
“When did you use this thing the last time?” Anna asked, smiling.
“Oh, don’t worry, miss, we use it all the time.”
Anna raised an eyebrow. “So you say.” She looked more closely at the passenger seat. It was an old wooden bench that would have made her think of sore bottoms if it hadn’t been covered in an abundance of furs and sheepskins. She stepped closer and stroked a dark piece of fur that stood out from the others which were mostly light in color.
“This one is bear,” the groom explained.
“Oh.”
“Yes, it is very old. The rest are mostly sheep and reindeer. But it will keep you all warm during the ride, never you fear, miss”.
Anna lifted the bear skin and lowered her face towards it, wanting to touch it with her face and smell it. Suddenly there was a hissing sound and she found herself staring into two golden eyes. She gasped. The cat had been lying curled up between the furs and was now glaring at her with its ears angled back, whiskers trembling defiantly. Anna held out her hand to the animal.
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you...and such a pretty thing you are...”
The cat looked at her inquiringly, all gray, sprinkled with brown and black and a white neck, chest and front paws.
“I don’t think we can take you with us, though,” Anna said, stroking its head. The animal started to purr.
Half an hour later they were on their way. Anna and Eric were deeply buried under furs, their heads barely visible if at all. They huddled together, his arm around her shoulders, her head resting against his neck. The sleigh was moving swiftly on the ice of the lake, in fact the ride was much more gentle than Anna remembered from her childhood. It was almost like sailing, but without the heeling and pitching.
“I remember it much more like riding a carriage,” she said. “Much bumpier.”
“Well, it can be bumpy as well,” Eric explained. “It all depends on the surface, do you see. On smooth ice like this it’s very comfortable, but when you travel on land, on a snowy or icy road, it’s much bumpier, worse than riding a carriage in fact, the sleigh not having any suspension at all.”
“I see.” She nuzzled her face deeper into the warmth of his neck. Nibbling softly at his earlobe. Whispering in his ear then. She felt his body tense with the sensation.
“This is like a fairy tale, darling.”
Eric turned his head towards her face and kissed her. “Then you are my fairy.”
Anna lifted her head and looked into his eyes. She started to say something, but kept her thought for herself. He might be more right than he knew. Because fairies could be quite evil at times.
They stopped for lunch a few miles outside the capital, not far from the royal palace at Drottningholm island. There was a small tavern near the bridge serving some hot soup as well as a tot of brandy.
“What are we going to do when we arrive at Stockholm?” Anna asked.
“Well, we will have to find a room at some boarding house of course. Then I don’t know. Would you like to call on the Kuhlins? Or check out the theaters?”
Anna looked at him, saying nothing.
“Or...,” Eric started.
Anna smiled at him. “Or we do all this tomorrow.”
Eric af Klint blushed.
Stockholm in the winter of 1809 wasn’t a happy town. The atmosphere was subdued by sickness and disease – thousands of soldiers and sailors too weak to be moved elsewhere had to be accommodated in the capital. The hospitals, or what went under that name, were overcrowded and chances for survival were greater outside of them anyway. So instead, ordinary people had to take in the survivors of the war, feed them and treat them in whatever way they could. In return, many got infected themselves.
But it wasn’t only the health problems that marked the Swedish capital. The war still wasn’t over and rumors of the Russian army finally having marched over the frozen Baltic to the Åland islands, or even the mainland proper, were the predominant topic for discussion. There was supposed to be an army on Åland still which could, perhaps, stop the enemy. If not, nothing could probably save the capital itself.
And then there was the question of the king. An increasing number of people found him a liability, a threat perhaps to the very existence of the nation. It wasn’t just that he was losing the war, which was bad enough of course, but he did not even see it as a problem. In his mind, the war could still be won, Sweden could still play an important role in the destruction of Napoleon and all his allies. Which, as everyone except the king did know, wasn’t only impossible but could not lead to anything less than utter disaster.
Already during the previous summer campaigns in Finland, the strength of the Swedish army had been severely hampered by too many officers not being as loyal to the king as should be expected. The mighty fortress at Svensksund had been lost, not to Russian guns, but to the wavering morale of the Swedish officers that should – and could – have held it. With it, the major part of the inshore fleet’s gunboats had been turned over to the enemy and then used against the remaining Swedish forces.
There were other examples. Examples of battles lost, or not
even fought by officers who did not believe the king’s words of great landing operations and counter-offensives from the north. Officers who silently had accepted that Finland was lost and that this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Because the fact was that Sweden was broke. The war did cost far more than people’s lives – it swallowed big amounts of money – money which the king did not have. Sure, there were British subsidies, but they weren’t nearly enough. Now, the king had decided to blackmail the British for more money. If they wouldn’t increase their payments, the king would deny his virtually only remaining ally trade to the western ports.
They found two rooms at Beckens inn near the northerns town limits. It had to be two rooms because they were not married and af Klint was, after all, a nobleman. Fortunately there was a convenient door between their rooms, enabling them to efficiently keep their privacy up and their clothes off.
“Look here, my dear,” said af Klint, standing behind Anna at the window, his arms around her waist. “This is the very road the king’s sleigh comes past almost every day on its way from the castle to the new palace at Haga.
“Really?” Anna leaned back into him and turned her face towards him. “Does he keep to a schedule? I mean, does everybody know when he passes through?”
Eric af Klint looked into her eyes and lifted an eyebrow.
“You are not thinking up some mischief now, are you, my little spy?”
She smiled at him. “On the contrary, you know I am loyal to the king. But it is always good to know any weakness an enemy might exploit.”
“Indeed.”
Eric took a firmer grip around her waist and pulled her closer to him as their lips met in a kiss.
Chapter 4 – The embassy
”Now, ambassador Merry, sir, would you pray care to tell me why I am here with a complete ship’s crew freezing to death in the ice?” captain Baker frowned at the British ambassador. He was in a bad mood altogether, having traveled all the way from Dalarö on horseback, in a blizzard, almost getting lost in the woods several times.
“I am truly sorry, dear captain,” the ambassador replied calmly. “I know it takes some getting used to this climate during the winter. If one ever does...get used to it that is...” He hesitated for a moment.
“Still, I am glad you are here. Even though it had been better if you had been able to put your ship a little closer.”
Baker started to become impatient. “We tried, sir, indeed we did. But the ice did not let us through at all.”
It had been his first lieutenant, Reeman, who had taken the cutter on a reconnaissance trip from Dalarö only days before. They had pulled mostly, despite the wind being quite co-operative for sailing. But the men were so cold, and Reeman had decided to put them to work physically in order to keep them warm. They had pulled all the way to Älgö and the narrows before Baggensfjärden. There they had been thoroughly stopped by the ice. The narrows were completely blocked for at least half a mile and Reeman had been forced to return to Dalarö as quickly as he could or his cutter might have been frozen in as well.
“I see,” the ambassador continued. “Now, captain, if you would like to take a seat and perhaps a glass of port, I will tell you about the...situation here.
“Very well,” Baker agreed. He placed himself as close to the fire that was roaring in the fireplace, received his wine and looked at Merry questioningly.
“Well,” the ambassador began. “As you know, of course, Britain and Sweden have been allies during this past year’s war. Your ship is proof of it enough, together with the rest of your admiral’s squadron. However, we did not only support the Swedish monarch with ships. In fact, most of the support has been funds, money. 1.2 million of their currency in fact.
Baker widened his eyes.
“Yes. But now, do you see, their king is broke. He cannot really afford to continue the war. He will never be able to relieve Finland, whatever he might say in public. Fact is, dear captain, he might not even be able to keep the Russians out of Sweden proper.”
“Can we give him more money?” Baker asked.
“No. We are offering him the same amount as last year, but not one more penny.”
“Why not? Surely, every ally against Bonaparte should be worth a lot.”
“Well, two reasons. First, our government does not like to be blackmailed. The Swedes are threatening to close their western ports to our trade, do you see?”
“Oh.”
“Second, we are not even sure this king of theirs will last the winter...”
Baker gasped. “What?”
“There are indications of revolution, dear captain.”
”Like in France?”
“No, no nothing of the kind, thank God. It is the nobility and military officers which might throw over this king.”
“I see. But, sir, what is my role in all this. I cannot move my ship to fight until the ice goes away...”
The ambassador lifted his glass and took a slow sip at his port. Then he looked the captain straight into his eyes.
“You are to do nothing at all.”
“But sir...?”
“I will explain it to you in a minute, captain. Do you care for another glass of port?”
Captain Baker left the embassy none the wiser. He still did not know why his ship was here and what he was supposed to do. A frigate with a crew of 200 men isn’t a great show of force and less so if she is frozen immovably in the ice, several miles from the capital where, or so Baker thought, the action was supposed to be. If there was to be any action at all.
The ambassador had pointed out that the British government did have no intentions in openly interfering in case there was a revolution. However, how crazy he might be, the king, Gustavus IV Adolphus, was the legally reigning monarch in Sweden and an ally.
“So are we to give him refuge if there is a revolution? Is that why I am here?” Baker had asked.
“Perhaps, dear captain, perhaps,” the ambassador had answered, and that had been as specific as it had gotten.
Facing the question whether to ride back to his ship at once or stay in the capital for another day, Baker decided to stay. After all, his ship wasn’t going anywhere and it had been an awfully long time he had been to a theater. But first of all he would find himself a good meal and a warm bed.
Chapter 5 – At the theater
The next morning dawned cold and gray, promising more snow to come. Miss Anna and Eric af Klint took their sleigh to Södermalm in order to visit Johan and Charlotte Kuhlin. Kuhlin had been the commander of a squadron of gunboats the previous summer and af Klint had been his gunnery officer. During some dangerous endeavors they had become not only brothers in arms, but friends and when they parted company after the boat’s return to the capital, af Klint had promised to keep in touch.
The Kuhlins lived in a small house on the heights of Södermalm, overlooking the main harbor of Stockholm and the navy yard where the gunboats and galleys of the inshore fleet now were stored and repaired as well as new ones built. To get there, the sleigh had either to take the way through the city center, over a bridge, past the big royal palace and the old town on its own little island, then over another bridge and up the steep slope to Södermalm. Of course, at this time of the year there was another alternative. If they dared, they could take the sleigh right out on the ice and go directly to their destination, not caring about bridges or roads.
Had he been alone, af Klint probably would have done so, and perhaps the same would have applied to Miss Anna, who, after all, was an exceptionally daring young lady. But now, being together, in love, and in no hurry, they took the long way around. This also meant they got a good view at the royal palace and the fluttering activity in the most busy parts of the town. It being winter and bitterly cold did not lessen the activity at all. This was Sweden, and the people living here were used to cold winters and got about their business as usual.
Arriving at last, they got out of the sleigh and permitted the groom to take it to a nearb
y tavern, there to wait for their return. Eric af Klint knocked on the door and they were admitted by a maid who ushered them into a small parlor. Shortly after, Charlotte Kuhlin entered, a big smile on her face.
“Anna, Eric, oh, it’s so good to see you!” she cried. “I had no idea you were in town.”
“We just arrived yesterday,” af Klint explained. “And may I say you look very well.”
“Don’t flatter me, Eric. I am glad however, that we had the fortune to escape the illness that seems to have affected so many people here. The hospitals are still crowded with the sick and many a poor family has been forced to make room for them in their homes. But let’s not talk about these dreadful things. How are you Anna, you look like the weeks in the country did do you very good indeed.”
Anna blushed. “Oh, yes it was wonderful. So peaceful and quiet...”
“But now we thought we should meet some people after all,” Eric continued. “And perhaps go to the theater.”
“What a marvelous idea,” Charlotte exclaimed. “I haven’t been to a play for months. Perhaps we might all go together?”
“That was what we were hoping for,” Anna said. “But, dear, where is your husband? He is not indisposed I trust?”
“Oh, no. He is at the navy yard, doing something naval, you know.” Charlotte laughed. “He is a commander now, having gotten his promotion at last.”
“Good for him,” af Klint said. “and he might just be rid of those dreadful gunboats now. As a commander they will surely give him a bigger vessel next summer.”
“He very much does hope so,” Charlotte answered. “I guess that’s why he is keeping himself available at the yard so much. Now, I am forgetting myself! Would you not want a cup of coffee?”
Coffee was served by the maid and the conversation turned towards plans for the evening once more. Charlotte produced a printed newspaper in which there were advertisements of the several theaters the capital had to offer. Stockholm wasn’t a big city compared to London, Paris or Berlin, but thanks to the previous king, Gustavus III, there were more cultural establishments than normally would have been expected. Gustavus was known as “the theater king” and had been very fond of all things cultural. He even died after having been shot by an assassin while attending the opera. Of course he also had started the last war against Russia, but that was not really unusual for a Swedish king – rather something that should be expected.
