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WHAT SHOULD WE TAKE along, what can we do without? Where to pack it: into the big trunk, the sacks, or the baskets? I thought we owned few belongings until I started to plan for our voyage. Yes, we have few possessions, but everything we own has a purpose and should come with us!
I’ve been preparing, repairing, cleaning, baking for two weeks, just to get ready to pack. I’ve packed and repacked in my mind for weeks, and now that the task must be completed, I have done the same thing over and over! I’ve stashed the item I need, and then I have to dig •through things to find it and pull it out. Farms tools to yarn skeins are strewn in piles around the room. Samuel is no help, and the children are in the way. I’m too upset at the moment to think. What I’d like to do is scream or cry.
We need our plates, bowls, cups, and eating utensils, but can’t pack them until after our last meal in this house. We don’t have any extra utensils, but they and the cooking pots and baking pans can go into the big trunk because we won’t use them until we’re done with our voyage. Samuel has carved many of my items, like the potato masher and spoons, out of wood. I will fit them in where I can.
I can take my butter mold, but the churn is too big to pack. Samuel promised to buy me new items as soon as we land in New York when I stood in the middle of the room, exasperated, trying to find places for things.
I need to pack food for our trip so that we don’t have to buy it on our way to Göteborg. I know meals should be given to us on the ship, but I don’t know if they will be enough, so maybe I should pack extra for that portion of the trip.
Rye was taken to the mill last week to be ground into flour so I could bake hard flat bread to take with us. Cheese wheels wrapped in new cloth. Meat and fish, salted and dried. A tub of salted butter. I need to make a sack for the last of the dried berries. Should I pack some honey along to quiet Emilia’s sweet tooth and disposition? That would make a sticky mess if it spilled. Maybe we can just buy some sugar as a treat on the trip. I have a small carved bowl with a lid that would work to hold it.
Will we get porridge on the boat, or have a way to cook our own if we want to? I don’t suppose there will be a cow on board the ship for milk. The children will have a hard time coping without that nourishment, but will only be for a week or two.
Towels will be needed for the trip. Will these things be furnished on the ship? What about a washbasin? Our pitcher for water? I must not forget soap!
All the clothing and bedding has been washed and mended. Material I made on the loom this winter has been cut and sewn into oversize clothes for the children. They are too big for them now, but the way Oscar is growing, they might fit him by the time we land on the shores of America.
The weather is still cold so that we need to wear our winter clothing. Will it be warm or cold on the ship? We’ve never been to the sea to know what the weather is like on the coast.
What will we wear in America? I’ve heard people say it is very hot there. Others have said it can be very cold. The place is so big that it has different kinds of weather. And so far we don’t know where we will be homesteading yet. I’ll take an empty sack to put our heavy coats in if we don’t need them later.
Dresses, shirts, trousers, undergarments, petticoats, shawls, cloaks, aprons. Shoes and wooden clogs. Woolen socks and mittens. Where is Oscar’s new hat he got from his mormor for Christmas?
I must prepare infant clothes also because I’ll be needing them before the year is out. I hope Emilia will be done with her linen diapers by then so they can be used when the baby arrives.
How do I wash clothes on the ship? Will there be a common washtub, hang lines to dry clothing from, good lye soap? The children soil their clothes so fast that things will have to be washed along the way.
Our bedding will be stuffed in heavy cloth sacks. The mattress tickings will be emptied of their straw stuffing and folded for use in our new house later this year. Do I dare take our goose-down pillows? They would take up so much room, but when would I have a chance to gather such a quantity of down and make new ones?
The quilts have been washed, and I can pull one out to use on the ship whenever I need to wrap a chilled child. I imagine they will be filthy by our arrival.
Our house is cramped with furniture that I wish we could take with us, but most of it belongs to Samuel’s parents. They will continue living in the house, so the furniture stays. Tables, chairs, beds, rockers, and cupboards—how long before we have our own furnishings?
I have tried not to be sentimental, but I’m going to miss the loom and spinning wheel. Many hours of my married life have been connected to the rhythms of making linen and woolen material for our family. I will bring along the skeins of yam I carded and spun last winter. It was too much work to leave behind. With my knitting needles, I’ll try to get the yam made into socks while we travel. I must remember to pick up my sewing basket, which I always leave sitting by my chair.
We need candles. What about the fireplace utensils we use to hang pots, to poke and stoke the fire? They were a wedding gift from Samuel’s parents, so I’d like to take them. Could I use the braided rug in front of the fireplace to pad something else to justify taking it along? I made it last winter.
Samuel’s initial attitude was “Don’t worry about it! We’11buy new furniture and anything else we need when we get to America!” If he was in charge of the packing, I think he would only take a change of clothing and not bother with anything else.
But then tools starting moving from the shed to the living room where the big trunk lay open. A hammer, chisel, a packet of nails—in case the chest needed repair. He couldn’t leave the wood plane his grandfather gave him. He wanted something along that both their hands had touched. A small bag of rye so we can start the same variety of grain for the bread we are used to. A patch of leather and tools to repair shoes. I was expecting to see his favorite shovel in the house next. Samuel’s pile started to rival my own in size.
We had planned to use an old trunk that was in the attic. But when it was emptied of its contents, we decided it wasn’t sturdy or big enough to travel all those miles. Samuel crafted a new trunk with our trip in mind. Besides making metal bands that encircle the middle in two places, his brother fashioned a lock built into the lid. With the key safe in Samuel’s custody, our belongings will be locked from thievery when the box is out of our sight. On the front of the chest, he carved his name and destination, “Samuel Fredrik Johansson, N. Amerika.”
I also insisted we bring my brudkista along. My dowry was not large, Fader being a poor farmer and having two daughters marry at the same time, but I still had linens, our wedding cover, and clothing to bring to the marriage. The chest is not large enough to use as our main trunk, but it is big enough to put our clothes in that we will need for our trip.
We’ll wear our Sunday parish clothes for getting on the boat. I want to look our best leaving the country. The children must not look like ragged urchins forced to leave their homeland. After we settle on the ship, we’ll change into everyday clothes until we arrive at our destination.
Besides the necessities, we have few other things of value to bring along. My wedding gift from Samuel, a gold necklace, I’ll wear under my clothing to keep it safe. I have sewn a money belt for Samuel to wear to keep our money hidden. He’ll need to have some in his pocket along the way, but most of the money must be saved for our purchases when we start over on our new farm. We have few books, but they can go in the brudkista: the Bible, psalmbook, a few books that Samuel and his siblings used to learn to read from. The Handbook for America that Samuel bought last fall when we started thinking about the trip must come along, although I think we have it all memorized by now. He read out loud from it almost every evening so we could familiarize ourselves with the climate and geography. It has put the children to sleep many nights. Maybe we’ll use the same trick to put them to sleep on the boat.
What items could I put in the chest for the children to use to occupy their time? Even though they are young, they helped with chores, explored the farm, or napped. They spent hours with their grandparents while Samuel and I worked outside in the fields. Oscar and Emilia don’t have toys like rich children would have to play with. How am I going to manage to keep them entertained when they are confined on the trip?
The children are confused with the state of packing. Emily is too young to know anything except that there are stress and disorder in the house. Oscar asks “why” of everything.
“Why can’t I take the cat with me?” “It needs to stay here to catch mice.”
“Why isn’t the farm tomte going with us?” “Because it needs to stay here to protect the farm.”
“Why aren’t Farfar and Farmor going with us?” “Because they want to stay in Sweden.”
“Then why don’t we stay too?”
I’ll be at a loss myself without a home and farm to take care of. What am I going to do cooped up for weeks with no weaving to do, meals to cook, cows to milk? I’m used to working on the soil daily. Will I be terrified floating on the water with no way to touch dry land?
My envious brother Johan said I should think of this trip as an adventure on the high sea. No work to worry about for two weeks, just the chance to watch the world go by. With two young children to watch, I don’t think that will be the case. I just hope we don’t suffer from seasickness.
What is going to help me immensely is that my sister, Hedda, has decided to make the trip with us. Her year of employment is up this month, so instead of continuing with that household, she will journey to America and look for work. I’ll still miss the rest of my family terribly, but having Hedda along has eased the panic that I was feeling at the thought of leaving them all.
My parents will be moving again, but this time to what I am leaving. They are moving to Kulla to replace Samuel’s labor. My fader is twenty-five years younger than Samuel’s and still has several years left before he can retire.
They will be moving into a tenant’s house that stands adjacent to the farm compound. Johan and Sofia will be with them, but Mathilda has a job nearby. Where I stood in the garden, my moder will stand. My little sister, Sofia, will milk my cows and Fader will tend the rocky fields that Samuel and I worked to clear. Instead of me following in Fader’s footsteps, he will be stepping into mine.
If only they would follow us to America. Then this packing wouldn’t be so hard, and my belongings wouldn’t be wet with my tears.
