Vilhelm Moberg - The Settlers

Kristina interpreted her uncle’s opinion to mean that a woman’s prayer for barrenness was not a sin against any of God’s commandments. Of course Danjel was only a poor sinner himself and could not with assurance tell her when she sinned and when she didn’t. But if she transgressed with this prayer, then she must already have committed the sin in her heart. Wasn’t she courageous enough to do in word what she already had done in thought?

In every need a person must turn to his creator, every worry, great or small, must be carried to him. God demanded simply that a worried person turn to him, ask his aid.

And now she was a worried and deeply frightened person. Why did she hesitate? Why did she delay? Why hadn’t she been bold enough to offer this prayer long ago? But now she would do so.

Not at the same time as her evening prayer, however, which she read every night in bed before going to sleep. Not so much because Karl Oskar would lie awake in his bed across the room and listen, but mostly because this was a prayer of great importance to her. This urgent prayer must be said secretly, alone, with no one looking on. She wanted to feel entirely alone with the Almighty. And if she sought out a lonely place for the prayer, then he must understand how important it was to her, how fervently she sought its granting.

And this prayer would always remain a secret between the creator and her.

On a light, balmy July evening Kristina stole up the hill to a grove of immense oaks a few gunshots’ distance from the house. She had been careful to see that no one noticed her leave; she sneaked away like someone on a forbidden errand. God saw her, and he would listen, but no one else must see or hear her. She felt she was on her way to a sacred meeting — which she was. Tonight she was meeting God in his own beautifully created oak grove.

Below a mighty oak she fell down on her knees to offer her secret prayer.

Her knees in the lush grass, her forehead against the oak trunk, Kristina prayed to him who had all power in heaven and on earth. She prayed for that which was good for her. A seven-times blessed woman prayed for barrenness for the rest of her life; she prayed the Lord to have mercy on her tired, worn-out body, and not create any more lives in it.

“Dear, dear God! Don’t let me become pregnant again! I am unable to endure it! Think of me, dear God!”

The tall oak crowns swayed above her head. The wind, rustling in their leaves, was the only sound in the grove up here tonight. The silence and the stillness aided in making her feel alone — alone with God. The soft wind she heard in the crowns of the trees she took as a touch of the creator’s own soft hand, as a breath of confidence from the heaven above her; the father in heaven touched his praying child.

After the prayer a great calm came over her. When she rose from her bent knees, she felt sure her prayer had been heard.

— 1—

On May 11, 1858, a new star shone on the flag of the United States of America. On this day the Congress admitted a new state, the thirty-second, into the union. The state was Minnesota.

But a great distance separated Washington from Minnesota and it was two whole days before the 150,000 inhabitants of the far-away territory learned that they now lived in a state of the Union. On the beautiful May day, when the decision was made, the settlers were busy with the spring planting of their fields, unaware of the transformation of their status: in the morning they went to work as territorial residents, in the evening they returned as citizens of the greatest and mightiest republic in the world.

Up till now the Minnesota settlers had felt that the government in Washington was their guardian: the representatives they had sent to Congress had no voting rights. Washington had appointed their governors, made up their budget, and generally supervised their activities. This had made the people feel that they weren’t trustworthy. And they had waited a long time: Congress had more than once denied the territory state rights. The southern slave states would not admit Minnesota unless Kansas too were admitted. But since the Kansas constitution permitted slavery it was not acceptable to the Northern states. However, after many bitter debates in Congress, both territories had now at last been admitted.

As soon as the decision was made in Washington, the great news was dispatched by telegram to the Minnesota legislature. But the telegraph wires reached only as far as Prairie du Chien, Wisconsin, and from there the telegram had to be carried by steamer up the Mississippi. On the morning of May 13, when the new state already was two days old, the steamer arrived in St. Paul. There the papers spread the happy message with the biggest headlines ever seen in the territory: GLORIOUS NEWS! MINNESOTA A STATE! BRING OUT THE BIG GUN! And half the front page of the St. Paul Pioneer depicted a cannon being fired under a flag with thirty-two stars. BRING OUT THE BIG GUN! The letters above the cannon were so large the readers could almost hear the firing.

Fort Snelling at St. Paul fired all its guns, with the consequence that people who hadn’t yet heard the news thought the Indians were on the warpath and began to leave their homes in panic. But as soon as the word spread, each owner of a firing iron added to the noise and celebration. Every settler with a gun fired a shot of joy. For several days one would have thought war had broken out in the new state of Minnesota with battles in every settlement. Old breach-loaders and blunderbusses were fired, Kentucky rifles and Samuel Colt’s new revolvers, percussion rifles, English guns, Scottish shotguns, Irish carbines, German cavalry pistols, French bird guns, and — not least — old Swedish muzzle loaders. In the Minnesota forests, the salutation of all its inhabitants thundered in unison. No gun had a report exactly like another; each rifle and gun and revolver and pistol had its own voice: European people fired their different weapons, uniting into one many-voiced greeting and salutation to the free land of the new world where they had become citizens.

BRING OUT THE BIG GUN! Now they could choose their own government. Now they could elect representatives and have a voice in Congress, could participate in the great decisions! Minnesota’s settlers now had a right to sit in the Capitol, at the table of great deliberations.

The echo of great expectations rose with the salutation in the clear May sky. Those who fired were themselves fired of a great expectation: their territory had grown up, had become a state. Now more immigrants would arrive, to break more fields, build more houses, more churches and schools, build better, more passable roads. Railroads and telegraph lines would now be built, mail-service would improve; the one-time territory would be drawn closer to its older brethren-states in the Union. Money matters would be regulated; new laws concerning printing and issuing of bills would destroy wildcat money forever. Reliable currency would make business grow again, and prosperity would return to the young state ruled only by the settlers themselves.

Joy reverberated in the spring air, this spring which had brought good weather for sowing and growing. The sap in the sugar maples flowed more abundantly than ever before, grass and flowers and all the plants of the earth sprang up in a profusion such as no one had previously observed — this spring when Minnesota became a state.

— 2—

In the settlements at Chisago Lake, the news of statehood was celebrated joyfully. Here no one could afford to waste ammunition but this time everyone was generous with his powder. Karl Oskar shot off three salutes from his old muzzle loader — the only shots he ever fired just for fun in America. His gun was old but it had been made by the most famous gunsmith in Småland and it made more noise than any of the other guns in the district. Karl Oskar said that since he was the first one to settle at this lake he must fire a shot loud enough to be heard all the way to Washington by the President himself!