New Sweden, the unknown and tiny colony that helped the birth of the United States 250 years ago
It was the smallest, least populated and shortest-lived colony in the United States. But, although few remember it today, it helped shape the birth of the country.
The 125-year-old elevator snorted to a stop somewhere above the Philadelphia skyline. When the door creaked open, I found myself inside the clock tower of the tallest municipal building in the United States, looking down from a 500-foot-high observation deck at what is known as “the cradle of America.”
From that glass vantage point, I could make out the City Tavern, the tavern where the Founding Fathers planned the American Revolution. A little further west, I saw Carpenters’ Hall, the building where the colonies united against the British at the First Continental Congress.
Nearby was Independence Hall, where the United States Constitution was signed in 1787.
Squinting, I followed a line of American flags in the distance along Market Street, toward the Delaware River and New Jersey.
—So, everything I see from here was once part of… Sweden? —I asked our guide.
"I think so," he answered, with some doubt. Although it's the first time someone has asked me about that.
If you ask most Americans, they will say that the United States traces its origins to Philadelphia on July 4, 1776, when the Founding Fathers signed the Declaration of Independence.
It is no coincidence that the city is the epicenter of the country's 250th anniversary celebrations this week, and that up to 1.5 million people are expected to arrive for what will be the largest Fourth of July festival.
But most likely, almost none of the attendees know that the political and ideological origin of the United States was once part of a small and little-known Swedish colony called Nya Sverige (New Sweden). In fact, very few Americans—and also very few Swedes—have any idea that a Swedish colony existed in America.
Between 1638 and 1655, this forgotten settlement spread across the Delaware Valley and included parts of the present-day states of New Jersey, Pennsylvania, Delaware, and Maryland.
In addition to being the smallest, least populated, and shortest-lived European colony on American soil, it was also one of the most discreet.
“It started almost as a secret colony,” explains Deborah-Jean Hoffman, a board member of the New Sweden Center, an institution dedicated to spreading the colonial history of the Delaware Valley.
"The Swedes did not put up flags like the French or the Spanish. The idea was to create a colony that would go unnoticed and that the Dutch would not detect," he adds.
Despite having lasted only 17 years, New Sweden played a key role in shaping the culture that the country would have.
Swedish settlers introduced one of the most iconic elements of the American frontier: the log cabin. They also brought Lutheran Christianity to the New World, staged one of the first civil uprisings in the colonies, and left their mark on two future American cities.
And, as I was discovering, there are still traces of this ancient Swedish settlement scattered throughout the Delaware Valley… if you know where to look.
A covert colony built on revenge
By 1637, the European powers had already divided up a large part of the Atlantic coast of what is now the United States when Peter Minuit, former governor of New Netherland and dissatisfied with his situation, turned to the Swedish Crown.
Minuit had once acquired the island of Manhattan from the Dutch and had spent years exploring the mid-Atlantic region in search of a place to establish the colony. But, after his abrupt dismissal in 1632, he sought revenge on his former employers.
"To get back at the Dutch, Minuit went to Sweden and basically told them: you're the only major European power without a colony and you're losing the beaver pelt and tobacco trade. I know where you can start one," explains Hoffman.
With map in hand, Minuit showed the Swedish authorities that between the English claim to Virginia and New Netherland existed a vast area unoccupied by Europeans.
He knew that although the Dutch claimed the entire Delaware River, they had actually only acquired one bank—on their southern border—from the Lenape Indians. He also knew that they were much more focused on defending New Amsterdam (modern-day Manhattan) than the Delaware Valley.
In December 1637, Minuit sailed from Gothenburg in command of two ships with 25 settlers ready to settle and discreetly make their way into the lucrative trade monopoly that the Dutch maintained with the indigenous nations.
After four months of voyage, they quietly dropped anchor on a narrow, winding tributary of the Delaware River in present-day Wilmington, hoping to go unnoticed in this secluded location.
But there was a problem: “The Dutch found out almost immediately,” explains historian Russell Shorto. “From the beginning they considered that the Swedes were illegally occupying their territory, but Minuit knew that they did not have enough men to expel them, so he ignored them.”
Shortly after landing in March 1638, Minuit purchased a 65-mile stretch of Delaware shore from five Indian tribes, and the settlers built a fort they called Fort Christina, in honor of the 12-year-old Queen Christina of Sweden.
It was the first permanent European settlement in the Delaware Valley and the first permanent European structure in what would later become the first state of the United States.
A mutiny and a “Swedish nation”
Just five months after founding New Sweden, Minuit drowned in a hurricane in the Caribbean while searching for tobacco to make the new colony profitable. Resourceless and hungry, the 25 settlers he left behind likely would not have survived the winter without the help of their indigenous neighbors.
"The Swedes received a lot of help from the native peoples. They knew that if they got along, they could not only trade, but also survive," explains Hoffman.
"Unlike the Dutch and English, the Swedes understood and respected the native tribes. About 80% of the settlers were actually 'forest Finns', as Finland was part of Sweden at the time, and they had a deep understanding of how to live off the land."
The colony barely grew from being a small, remote settlement until 1643, when Johan Printz, a large man who measured around 2.13 meters and weighed more than 180 kilos, was appointed governor. Nicknamed “Big Belly” by the Lenape, Printz had an imposing presence and set out to consolidate the Swedish presence in America.
Over the next decade, Printz built two new fortifications along the Delaware River (Fort Elfsborg and Fort New Gothenburg); expanded the colony from present-day Cecil County, Maryland, to Trenton, New Jersey; and established a new capital south of Philadelphia, on the island of Tinicum, all while ordering peaceful relations with the indigenous tribes.
Despite its territorial expansion, New Sweden never became the profitable business it had envisioned for two main reasons: it was chronically underpopulated and neglected.
The colony never exceeded 400 inhabitants and between 1648 and 1654 the Swedish Crown did not send a single supply ship. Interest in emigrating was so low that the Swedish Empire resorted to sending petty criminals and military deserters as a form of punishment.
With the colony practically abandoned by the Swedish government, Printz ruled with a heavy hand to prevent his few settlers from deserting. In 1653, when a quarter of the male population signed a petition accusing him of abusing his power, he called it a “mutiny,” although he eventually resigned, marking one of the first successful political protests in American colonial history.
In 1655, the temperamental governor of New Netherland, Peter Stuyvesant, lost patience with the Swedish settlers and sent seven armed ships up the Delaware.
Outnumbered, the Swedes surrendered without firing a single shot, ending Swedish sovereignty in the Americas. New Sweden was soon absorbed by New Netherland, although Stuyvesant allowed it to continue to exist as a “Swedish nation,” in which settlers could elect their own government, form their own militia, and keep their lands.
When William Penn arrived in Philadelphia in 1682, after founding the English colony of Pennsylvania that bears his name, he found Swedish and Finnish farmers living alongside the Lenape.
“That's why, on top of Philadelphia City Hall, right below the statue of William Penn, there are four figures: two are Lenape and two are Swedish,” explains Hoffman. “Have you seen them?”
I hadn't seen them. In fact, despite having grown up near the former territory of New Sweden, I had never seen or heard anything about it. So I decided to take a road trip to discover it for myself.
New Sweden today
“The first three log cabins built in America were built right here,” says Herb Conner, chief interpreter of Fort Christina Park in Wilmington, Delaware, where the first Swedish fortress once stood.
As we walked along a wooded trail toward the settlers' original landing site, known as The Rocks, Conner explained that even as a child in Wilmington he was never told in school about the region's Swedish past.
He later discovered that New Sweden was the only European colony in the Americas that never went to war with the indigenous people.
“One of the most important lessons he left us is the importance of living peacefully with neighbors,” he said. “Today we could learn a lot from them.”
A short distance from the park, a 43-metre-high replica of a 17th-century ship, the Kalmar Nyckel, bobs above the river and offers guided tours.
This three-masted merchant ship is sometimes called “the Swedish Mayflower,” referring to the ship on which English Puritan settlers arrived in what is now the United States in 1620, but as we sailed through Wilmington's renovated waterfront neighborhood, Captain Lauren Morgens explained why that nickname is not entirely appropriate.
“The Mayflower barely made it across the Atlantic once,” he explained. “The Kalmar Nyckel made four round trip voyages with Swedish and Finnish settlers.” During the 90-minute tour, visitors can help raise the sails, peek into the captain's cabin and observe the small spaces where the settlers slept.
They also receive an introduction to the history of New Sweden.
Back on land, I toured three floors dedicated to that history at the nearby Copeland Maritime Center and Museum.
Inside a reconstructed log cabin, I discovered that it was actually the “Woodland Finns” who introduced this distinctive type of housing, which was later adopted by many pioneer families, including future President Abraham Lincoln.
After a short drive along Swedes Landing Road, I arrived at the church known as Old Swedes’ Church. Built in 1698, it has the merit of being both the first Lutheran church in the New World and the oldest in the United States still in use in its original form.
As we walked through a cemetery toward the colonial brick building, communications director Betsy Christopher pointed out the terrain beneath our feet.
“This cemetery dates back to 1638 and many of the original Swedish and Finnish settlers of Fort Cristina rest here,” he explained. Christopher added that, almost 400 years later, many of their descendants still fill the pews each December for the Santa Lucia Christmas celebration, when the temple is illuminated with candles.
Just 30 miles separate Wilmington from Philadelphia. As I headed north on I-95, I saw signs for Governor Printz Park in Tinicum Township, where Fort New Gothenburg and the last capital of New Sweden once stood.
Today, a reconstructed Swedish farmhouse, the foundation of the Printz residence, and a life-size statue of “Big Belly” himself are spread along the seven-acre riverfront. But, on Hoffman's advice, I had an appointment at the top of City Hall that I couldn't miss, so I continued on my way.
Like the remains of New Sweden, the two bronze figures of Swedish settlers towering over Philadelphia are easily missed if you don't know where to look. But there they are, on the south side of the tower, facing the river that brought them there and watching over the city that grew from their farms.
“Did you know that it was a descendant of New Sweden who cast the decisive vote here in Pennsylvania in favor of the Declaration of Independence and separation from Great Britain?” explained Tracey Beck, executive director, as she guided me through the Swedish American History Museum in Philadelphia the next day.
The spacious mansion, with twelve galleries, located in FDR Park in South Philadelphia, traces almost 400 years of Swedish and Finnish influence in the United States, beginning with the area's first settlers.
And although its goal is to introduce Americans to this little-known colony, it is often just as revealing for the Swedes themselves.
“This is a lost part of our history,” said Allan Elfström, a Swedish immigrant to the area, as he looked at a timeline of New Sweden. “When I talk about all this with many of my Swedish colleagues, they are baffled.”
After touring the museum halls, I joined about 300 people wearing flower crowns, flowing dresses, and traditional “folkdräkt” costumes attending the annual Midsommarfest outside. While I was pouring Carlsberg beer and sampling smörgåstårta sandwich cakes and lingonberry sorbet, I ended up following a violinist to a large mast decorated with Swedish flags.
“This is like our Fourth of July,” said the person next to me, taking my hand. As we spun in a circle, singing Swedish songs under a Nordic cross, I looked up at the Philadelphia skyline in the distance and remembered something Beck had told me earlier.
"It's fascinating to wonder what would have happened. There was another European colony that we were never told about that was once here. What would this country be like today if it had survived?"