Vilhelm Moberg - Unto A Good Land

Henry had told her that God had already informed him she had been a great sinner. But one forgiven by God had nothing to fear from mortals. Who was he to judge her? He himself was a great sinner, forgiven by God. They were alike, she and he. The old life was past, blotted out through the rebirth. And if some part of her old sin-body still clung to her, she would be cleansed in the baptism he would give her later in spring when the river water was a little warmer.

It was because of God’s love, all-forgiving love, that Ulrika of Västergöhl now wet her bridal linen with her tears.

But only a person who knew what sin was could rightly understand her joy. Sin was like a wasp, a big, angry, buzzing hornet. Or like a bee. Sin had sweet honey in its mouth, and a sharp, piercing sting in its end. First it lured a mortal with its honey sweetness, then it stung with its stinger. Sin had led her astray with its delightful sweetness, but how bitterly it had then stung her! Nothing in this world could sting such deep wounds as sin!

But people too had hurt her. How much evil she had suffered from them! Ever since she had borne her first child she had been called unmarried Ulrika of Västergöhl. It was even written down in the church book. She had been born unmarried, she couldn’t help it. God had created her unmarried, He had created her in such a way that she bore children easily, she couldn’t help that either. And later she couldn’t get married, later, when she had lost that which men required in a bridal bed. That too she couldn’t help. She had never had a maidenhead to save, since it had been stolen from her as a little girl, before she was fully developed.

But now she had been sleeping alone in her bed so long, now she had spared her body so long that the old marks of sin must be obliterated. She had been with no man for such a long time, she had a feeling something had grown inside her, her maidenhead had at last had a chance to develop, to come back to her. She felt like a virgin, like an expectant and trembling virgin, now that she was to step into a bridal bed. And this too made her happy, this too was something to shed tears of joy over; this too was a miracle. She who was called the Glad One had never until now been glad.

Voices were heard outside the cabin, and Ulrika of Västergöhl rose quickly. “The men are coming with fish for dinner. I can’t sit here and bawl!” She picked up her wedding shift and folded it quickly. “I must put on the potato pot!”

Hurriedly she dried the last tears with the corner of her apron. Now she had wept and enjoyed it, she had wept to her heart’s content. Now she had completed her joy-weeping over the passing of the old, the coming of the new.

— 3—

Kristina started for home in the early afternoon; little Danjel must be waiting for her in his cradle. She had nursed her last born generously before leaving in the morning, but he must be howling with hunger by now, he was such a lusty child.

Her uncle Danjel had bought two cows this spring, and one had recently calved. As they were milkless at Ki-Chi-Saga, he now gave his niece a pail of milk. Kristina was overjoyed at the gift; she must save every drop for her children; she must walk carefully on the rutty road so the precious milk would not splash out.

Ulrika whispered to her that she had more confidences to share, she couldn’t speak freely with Danjel and Jonas Petter listening, so she would accompany her a bit on the way and help her carry the milk pail.

Kristina told her she was much pleased that no one now could go to Pastor Jackson and slander his wife-to-be, no evil person could ruin this marriage. After all the sufferings Ulrika had gone through she had earned her happy lot as wife of the minister in Stillwater, and nothing should interfere.

Ulrika answered: She herself had always maintained that the best that could happen to a woman in this world was to marry a man she could rely on. Henry had a new house, he could offer her all she needed of worldly goods. With Mr. Abbott she would have had more than she needed, if she had been looking for things of this world only and wished to live in the flesh. Pastor Jackson earned his daily bread, but nothing more. Here in the Territory a minister earned no great sums for looking after souls. People spent most of their money on their bodies. Pastor Jackson was paid three pounds of pork for a very long sermon, a pat of butter for a wedding, a dozen eggs for a prayer for the sick. No one could get rich from such puny contributions. And he endured hardships and suffered want when he traveled about in this wilderness. He preached in the open, in log cabins and barns, in woodsheds and hovels, in logging camps and hunters’ huts, in all sorts of dens and nests. He preached from morning to night, every hour of the day, the whole week through — it was only on Sundays he preached at home in his church. But that was the way an honest minister should preach, according to the words in the Acts: “The Lord of heaven and earth dwelleth not in temples made with hands.”

But she would have an easy life as the minister’s wife in Stillwater. Henry washed dishes and kept the house clean, scrubbed the floors, carried in water and wood. All she need do was cook the food and run the house. The rest of the time she could stay inside and keep herself clean. The Americans wanted clean, neat wives, the men did all the chores to save their womenfolk from getting bent backs, crooked limbs, or wrinkled faces while still in their days of youth. Swedish menfolk could not ruin their women quickly enough, with slave labor and the roughest work — this gave them a good excuse when they later went to younger, better-looking women. .

“Are you coming to my wedding, Kristina?” asked Ulrika.

Kristina said she was sorry, but she couldn’t leave the children long enough to journey all the way to Stillwater. Karl Oskar would stay home in her place if she asked him, but he couldn’t give the little one the breast.

“I’ll come to your first christening instead! Then I won’t be nursing the baby any longer.”

“You’ll have to wait a long while. You’ll have to wait till the child is grown. Then his father will baptize him in the river.”

Since Ulrika had carried Kristina’s child to baptism, she ought in turn to carry Ulrika’s. But she had forgotten the parents’ religion — their child would not be christened until full grown.

“Henry intends to ask the Lord for many children,” said Ulrika of Västergöhl.

“You aren’t too old yet.”

“I should say not! I can bring forth brats another ten years!”

“And you give birth easily, you told me.”

“Much more easily than you last time!”

Pastor Jackson did not hope for such a great blessing as Jacob — to father twelve tribes — but he would consider it a particular grace from God if he might be the father of half as many — six.

Ulrika went on: First of all she would pray to God for a son who could walk in his father’s footsteps as minister. She herself could never become a priest, she felt women weren’t good enough. Yet God allowed women to bear males for the holy priesthood. It wasn’t forbidden women to take part in the making of priests, they were permitted to carry them inside their bodies for a whole nine months. And it was Ulrika’s great desire to make use of that opportunity: She had never thought she would marry a priest, but she surely had wished to make one.

And if by the Highest One’s Grace she were permitted to see the day when this took place, she would write a letter to Dean Brusander in Ljuder, who had excluded her from church and sacrament, and she would tell him: Great Lord’s gifts were required in a minister, but now she had done something the Mr. Dean could not do — she had made a priest!