The esteemed artist
Vogelberg, a native of Sweden, had beautifully sculptured the three
heathen gods, Thor, Balder, and Odin, in colossal size, and brought
them over from Rome. The statues had only been lately placed, and a
large company had been invited to meet in the illuminated saloon,
and do honour to the artist. Solemn hymns were to be sung at the
uncovering of the statues, beside other festivities. I was
fortunate enough to receive an invitation to this festival, which
was to commence a little past seven. Before that I went to the
theatre, which, I was told, would open at half-past six. I intended
to remain there half an hour, and then drive to the palace, where my
friends would meet me to accompany me to the festival. I went to
the theatre at six, and anxiously waited half an hour for the
commencement of the overture; it was after half-past six, and no
signs of the commencement. I looked again at the bill, and saw, to
my annoyance, that the opera did not begin till seven. But as I
would not leave until I had seen the stage, I spent the time in
looking at the theatre itself. It is tolerably large, and has five
tiers of boxes, but is neither tastefully nor richly decorated. I
was most surprised at the exorbitant price and the variety of seats.
I counted twenty-six different kinds; it seems that every row has a
different price, else I don't understand how they could make such a
variety.
At last the overture began; I listened to it, saw the curtain rise,
looked at the fatal spot, and left after the first air. The door-
keeper followed me, took my arm, and wished to give me a return-
ticket; and when I told him that I did not require one, as I did not
intend to return, he said that it had only just commenced, and that
I ought to stop, and not have spent all the money for nothing. I
was unfortunately too little acquainted with the Swedish language to
explain the reason of my departure, so I could give him no answer,
but went away. I, however, heard him say to some one, "I never met
with such a woman before; she sat an hour looking at the curtain,
and goes away as soon as it rises." I looked round and saw how he
shook his head thoughtfully, and pointed with his forefinger to his
forehead. I could not refrain from smiling, and enjoyed the scene
as much as I should have done the second act of Mozart's Don
Giovanni.
I called for my friends at the royal palace, and spent the evening
very agreeably in the brilliantly-illuminated galleries of
antiquities and of pictures. I had the pleasure also of being
introduced to Herr Vogelberg. His modest, unpretending manners must
inspire every one with respect, even if one does not know what
distinguished talent he possesses.
The royal park is one of the finest sights in the neighbourhood of
Stockholm, and is one of the best of its kind. It is a fine large
natural park, with an infinity of groves, meadows, hills, and rocks;
here and there lies a country-house with its fragrant flower-garden,
or tasteful coffee and refreshment houses, which on fine Sundays are
filled with visitors from the town. Good roads are made through the
park, and commodious paths lead to the finest points of view over
sea and land.
The bust of the popular poet Bellmann stands on an open sunny spot,
and an annual festival is given here in his honour.
Deeper in the park lies the so-called Rosenthal (Rose valley), a
real Eden. The late king was so partial to this spot, that he spent
many hours in the little royal country-house here, which is built on
a retired spot in the midst of groves and flower-beds. In front of
the palace stands a splendid vase made of a single piece of
porphyry. I was told that it was the largest in Europe, but I
consider the one in the Museum of Naples much larger.
I spent the last hours of my visit to Stockholm in this spot, with
the amiable family of Herr Boje from Finnland, whose acquaintance I
had made on the journey from Gottenburg to Stockholm. I shall
therefore never forget this beautiful park and the agreeable
associations connected with it.
I made a very agreeable excursion also to the royal palace of Haga,
to the large cemetery, and to the military school Karlberg.
The royal castle of Haga is surrounded by a magnificent park, which
owes little to art; it contains some of the finest trees, with here
and there a hill, and is crossed by majestic alleys and well-kept
roads for driving and walking. The palace itself is so small, that
I could not but admire the moderation of the royal family; but I was
informed that this is the smallest of their summer palaces.
Nearly opposite to this park is the great cemetery; but as it has
only existed for about seventeen years, the trees in it are yet
rather young. This would be of little consequence in other
countries, but in Sweden the cemeteries serve as promenades, and are
crossed by alleys, ornamented with groves, and provided with seats
for the accommodation of visitors. This cemetery is surrounded by a
dark pine-forest, and really seems quite shut off from the outer
world. It is the only burial-place out of the town; the others all
lie between the churches and the neighbouring houses, whose fronts
often form the immediate boundary. Burials take place there
constantly, so that the inhabitants are quite familiar with the
aspect of death.
