VISIT TO ICELANDAND THESCANDINAVIAN NORTH

 TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN OF MADAME IDA PFEIFFER. 

 WITH Numerous Explanatory Notes AND EIGHT TINTED ENGRAVINGS. 

 TO WHICH ARE ADDED AN ESSAY ON ICELANDIC POETRY, FROM THE FRENCH OF M. BERGMANN; A TRANSLATION OF THE ICELANDIC POEM THE VOLUSPA; AND A BRIEF SKETCH OF ICELANDIC HISTORY. 

 Second Edition. 

 LONDON: INGRAM, COOKE, AND CO. 1853

 [Picture: Pictorial title page]

ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION

The success which attended the publication in this Series of IllustratedWorks of _A Woman's Journey round the World_, has induced the publicationof the present volume on a country so little known as Iceland, and aboutwhich so little recent information exists. 

The translation has been carefully made, expressly for this Series, fromthe original work published at Vienna; and the Editor has added a greatmany notes, wherever they seemed necessary to elucidate the text. 

In addition to the matter which appeared in the original work, thepresent volume contains a translation of a valuable Essay on Icelandicpoetry, by M. Bergmann; a translation of an Icelandic poem, the'Voluspa;' a brief sketch of Icelandic History; and a translation ofSchiller's ballad, 'The Diver, ' which is prominently alluded to by MadamePfeiffer in her description of the Geysers. {1}

The Illustrations have been printed in tints, so as to make the workuniform with the _Journey round the World_. 

London, August 1, 1852. 

AUTHOR'S PREFACE

"Another journey--a journey, moreover, in regions which every one wouldrather avoid than seek. This woman only undertakes these journeys toattract attention. "

"The first journey, for a woman ALONE, was certainly rather a boldproceeding. Yet in that instance she might still have been excused. Religious motives may perhaps have actuated her; and when this is thecase, people often go through incredible things. At present, however, wecan see no just reason which could excuse an undertaking of thisdescription. "

Thus, and perhaps more harshly still, will the majority judge me. Andyet they will do me a grievous wrong. I am surely simple and harmlessenough, and should have fancied any thing in the world rather than thatit would ever be my fate to draw upon myself in any degree the notice ofthe public. I will merely indicate, as briefly as may be, my characterand circumstances, and then I have no doubt my conduct will lose itsappearance of eccentricity, and seem perfectly natural. 

When I was but a little child, I had already a strong desire to see theworld. Whenever I met a travelling-carriage, I would stop involuntarily, and gaze after it until it had disappeared; I used even to envy thepostilion, for I thought he also must have accomplished the whole longjourney. 

As I grew to the age of from ten to twelve years, nothing gave me so muchpleasure as the perusal of voyages and travels. I ceased, indeed, toenvy the postilions, but envied the more every navigator and naturalist. 

Frequently my eyes would fill with tears when, having ascended amountain, I saw others towering before me, and could not gain the summit. 

I made several journeys with my parents, and, after my marriage, with myhusband; and only settled down when it became necessary that my two boysshould visit particular schools. My husband's affairs demanded hisentire attention, partly in Lemberg, partly in Vienna. He thereforeconfided the education and culture of the two boys entirely to my care;for he knew my firmness and perseverance in all I undertook, and doubtednot that I would be both father and mother to his children. 

When my sons' education had been completed, and I was living in peacefulretirement, the dreams and aspirations of my youth gradually awoke oncemore. I thought of strange manners and customs, of distant regions, where a new sky would be above me, and new ground beneath my feet. Ipictured to myself the supreme happiness of treading the land oncehallowed by the presence of our Saviour, and at length made up my mind totravel thither. 

As dangers and difficulties rose before my mind, I endeavoured to weanmyself from the idea I had formed--but in vain. For privation I caredbut little; my health was good and my frame hardy: I did not fear death. And moreover, as I was born in the last century, I could travel ALONE. Thus every objection was overcome; every thing had been duly weighed andconsidered. I commenced my journey to Palestine with a feeling ofperfect rapture; and behold, I returned in safety. I now feel persuadedthat I am neither tempting Providence, nor justly incurring theimputation of wishing to be talked about, in following the bent of myinclinations, and looking still further about me in the world I choseIceland for my destination, because I hoped there to find Nature in agarb such as she wears nowhere else. I feel so completely happy, sobrought into communion with my Maker, when I contemplate sublime naturalphenomena, that in my eyes no degree of toil or difficulty is too great aprice at which to purchase such perfect enjoyment. 

And should death overtake me sooner or later during my wanderings, Ishall await his approach in all resignation, and be deeply grateful tothe Almighty for the hours of holy beauty in which I have lived and gazedupon His wonders. 

And now, dear reader, I would beg thee not to be angry with me forspeaking so much of myself; it is only because this love of travellingdoes not, according to established notions, seem proper for one of mysex, that I have allowed my feelings to speak in my defence. 

Judge me, therefore, not too harshly; but rather grant me the enjoymentof a pleasure which hurts no one, while it makes me happy. 

 THE AUTHOR. 

CHAPTER I

In the year 1845 I undertook another journey; {2} a journey, moreover, tothe far North. Iceland was one of those regions towards which, from theearliest period of my consciousness, I had felt myself impelled. In thiscountry, stamped as it is by Nature with features so peculiar, asprobably to have no counterpart on the face of the globe, I hoped to seethings which should fill me with new and inexpressible astonishment. Howdeeply grateful do I feel to Thee, O Thou that hast vouchsafed to me tobehold the fulfilment of these my cherished dreams!

The parting from all my dear ones had this time far less bitterness; Ihad found by experience, that a woman of an energetic mind can find herway through the world as well as a man, and that good people are to bemet with every where. To this was added the reflection, that thehardships of my present voyage would be of short duration, and that fiveor six months might see me restored to my family. 

I left Vienna at five o'clock on the morning of the tenth of April. Asthe Danube had lately caused some devastations, on which occasion therailroad had not entirely escaped, we rode for the first four miles, asfar as Florisdorf, in an omnibus--not the most agreeable mode oftravelling. Our omnibuses are so small and narrow, that one wouldsuppose they were built for the exclusive accommodation of consumptivesubjects, and not for healthy, and in some cases portly individuals, whose bulk is further increased by a goodly assemblage of cloaks, furs, and overcoats. 

At the barriers a new difficulty arose. We delivered up ourpass-warrants (_passirscheine_) in turn, with the exception of one youngman, who was quite astounded at the demand. He had provided nothing buthis passport and testimonials, being totally unaware that a pass-warrantis more indispensable than all the rest. In vain did he hasten into thebureau to expostulate with the officials, --we were forced to continue ourjourney without him. 

We were informed that he was a student, who, at the conclusion of term, was about to make holiday for a few weeks at his parents' house nearPrague. Alas, poor youth! he had studied so much, and yet knew solittle. He had not even an idea of the overwhelming importance of thedocument in question. For this trifling omission he forfeited the fareto Prague, which had been paid in advance. 

But to proceed with my journey. 

At Florisdorf a joyful surprise awaited me. I met my brother and my son, who had, it appears, preceded me. We entered the train to proceed incompany to Stockerau, a place between twelve and thirteen miles off; butwere obliged to alight halfway, and walk a short distance. TheEmbankment had given way. Luckily the weather was favourable, inasmuchas we had only a violent storm of wind. Had it rained, we should havebeen wetted to the skin, besides being compelled to wade ankle-deep inmud. We were next obliged to remain in the open air, awaiting thearrival of the train from Stockerau, which unloaded its freight, andreceived us in exchange. 

At Stockerau I once more took leave of my companions, and was soonsecurely packed in the post-carriage for transmission. 

In travelling this short distance, I had thus entered four carriages; athing sufficiently disagreeable to an unencumbered person, but infinitelymore so to one who has luggage to watch over. The only advantage I coulddiscover in all this was, that we had saved half an hour in coming theseseventeen miles. For this, instead of 9 fl. 26 kr. From Vienna toPrague, we paid 10 fl. 10 kr. From Stockerau to Prague, without reckoningexpense of omnibus and railway. It was certainly a dearly-boughthalf-hour. {3}

The little town of Znaim, with its neighbouring convent, is situated on alarge plain, extending from Vienna to Budwitz, seventeen miles beyondZnaim; the monotony of the view is only broken here and there by lowhills. 

Near Schelletau the scenery begins to improve. On the left the view isbounded by a range of high hills, with a ruined castle, suggestive oftragical tales of centuries gone by. Fir and pine forests skirt theroad, and lie scattered in picturesque groups over hill and dale. 

April 11th. 

Yesterday the weather had already begun to be ungracious to us. At Znaimwe found the valleys still partly covered with snow, and the fog was attimes so thick, that we could not see a hundred paces in advance; butto-day it was incomparably worse. The mist resolved itself into a mildrain, which, however, lost so much of its mildness as we passed fromstation to station, that every thing around us was soon under water. Butnot only did we ride through water, we were obliged to sit in it also. The roof of our carriage threatened to become a perfect sieve, and therain poured steadily in. Had there been room for such a proceeding, weshould all have unfurled our umbrellas. 

On occasions like these, I always silently admire the patience of myworthy countrymen, who take every thing so good-humouredly. Were I aman, I should pursue a different plan, and should certainly not fail tocomplain of such carelessness. But as a woman, I must hold my peace;people would only rail at my sex, and call it ill-humoured. Besides, Ithanked my guardian-angel for these discomforts, looking upon them as apreparation for what was to befall me in the far North. 

Passing several small towns and villages, we at length entered theBohemian territory, close behind Iglau. The first town which we saw wasCzaslau, with its large open square, and a few neat houses; the latterprovided with so-called arbours (or _verandahs_), which enable one topass round the square dry-footed, even in the most rainy weather. 

Journeying onwards, we noticed the fine cathedral and town of Kuttenberg, once famous for its gold and silver mines. {4} Next comes the greattobacco-manufactory of Sedlitz, near which we first see the Elbe, butonly for a short time, as it soon takes another direction. Passing thesmall town of Collin, we are whirled close by the battle-field where, inthe year 1757, the great King Frederick paid his score to the Austrians. An obelisk, erected a few years since to the memory of General Daun, occupies a small eminence on the right. On the left is the plain ofKlephorcz, where the Austrian army was drawn up. {5}

At eleven o'clock on the same night we reached

PRAGUE. 

As it was my intention to pursue my journey after two days, my first walkon the following morning was to the police-office, to procure a passportand the all-important pass-warrant; my next to the custom-house, to takepossession of a small chest, which I had delivered up five days before mydeparture, and which, as the expeditor affirmed, I should find ready forme on my arrival at Prague. {6} Ah, Mr. Expeditor! my chest was notthere. After Saturday comes Sunday; but on Sunday the custom-house isclosed. So here was a day lost, a day in which I might have gone toDresden, and even visited the opera. 

On Monday morning I once more hastened to the office in anxiousexpectation; the box was not yet there. An array of loaded wagons had, however, arrived, and in one of these it might be. Ah, how I longed tosee my darling little box, in order that I might--_not_ press it to myheart, but unpack it in presence of the excise officer!

I took merely a cursory glance at Prague, as I had thoroughly examinedevery thing there some years before. The beautiful "Graben" andHorse-market once more excited my admiration. It was with a peculiarfeeling that I trod the old bridge, from which St. John of Nepomuk wascast into the Moldau for refusing to publish the confession of KingWenceslaus' consort. {7} On the opposite bank I mounted the Hradschin, and paid a visit to the cathedral, in which a large sarcophagus, surrounded and borne by angels, and surmounted by a canopy of crimsondamask, is dedicated to the memory of the saint. The monument is ofsilver, and the worth of the metal alone is estimated at 80, 000 florins. The church itself is not spacious, but is built in the noble Gothicstyle; the lesser altars, however, with their innumerable gilded woodenfigures, look by contrast extremely puny. In the chapel are manysarcophagi, on which repose bishops and knights hewn in stone, but somuch damaged, that many are without hands and feet, while some lackheads. To the right, at the entrance of the church, is the celebratedchapel of St. Wenceslaus, with its walls ornamented with frescoes, ofwhich the colours and designs are now almost obliterated. It is furtherenriched with costly stones. 

Not far from the cathedral is situated the palace of Count Czernin, abuilding particularly favoured with windows, of which it has one forevery day in the year. I was there in an ordinary year, and saw 365; howthey manage in leap-year I do not know. The view from the belvedere ofthis palace well repays the observer. It takes in the old and new town, the noble river with its two bridges (the ancient venerable-looking stonestructure, and the graceful suspension-bridge, six hundred paces long), and the hills round about, clothed with gardens, among which appear neatcountry-houses. 

The streets of the "Kleinseite" are not particularly attractive, beingmostly tortuous, steep, and narrow. They contain, however, severalremarkable palaces, among which that of Wallenstein Duke of Friedlandstands pre-eminent. {8}

After visiting St. Nicholas' Church, remarkable for the height of itsspire and its beautifully arched cupola, I betook myself to Wimmer'sgardens, and thence to the "Bastei, " a place of public resort with thecitizens of Prague. 

I could now observe the devastation caused by the rising of the watershortly before my arrival. The Moldau had overstepped its banks in soturbulent a manner, as to carry along with it several small houses, andeven a little village not far from Prague, besides damaging all thedwellings upon its banks. The water had indeed already fallen, but thewalls of the houses were soaked through and through; the doors had beencarried away, and from the broken windows no faces looked out upon thepassers-by. The water had risen two feet more than in 1784, in whichyear the Moldau had also attained an unusual height. 

From the same tower of observation, I looked down upon the great openspace bought a few years ago, and intended to be occupied by the terminiof the Vienna and Dresden railroads. Although several houses were onlyjust being pulled down, and the foundations of but few buildings werelaid, I was assured that within six months every thing would becompleted. 

I have still to mention a circumstance which struck me during my morningperegrinations, namely, the curious method in which milk, vegetables, andother provisions are here brought to town. I could have fancied myselftransported to Lapland or Greenland, on meeting every where carts towhich two, three, or four dogs were harnessed. One pair of dogs willdrag three hundredweight on level ground; but when they encounter a hill, the driver must lend a helping hand. These dogs are, besides, carefulguardians; and I would not advise any one to approach a car of this kind, as it stands before the inn-door, while the proprietor is quenching histhirst within, on the money he has just earned. 

At five o'clock on the morning of the 15th of April I left Prague, androde for fourteen miles in the mail-carriage, as far as Obristwy on theElbe, at which place I embarked for Dresden, on board the steamerBohemia, of fifty-horse power, a miserable old craft, apparently astranger to beauty and comfort from her youth up. The price charged forthis short passage of eight or nine hours is enormously dear. Thetravellers will, however, soon have their revenge on the extortionateproprietors; a railroad is constructing, by means of which this distancewill be traversed in a much shorter time, and at a great saving ofexpense. 

But at any rate the journey by water is the more agreeable; the way liesthrough very picturesque scenery, and at length through "SaxonSwitzerland" itself. The commencement of the journey is, however, farfrom pleasing. On the right are naked hills, and on the left largeplains, over which, last spring, the swollen stream rolled, partlycovering the trees and the roofs of the cottages. Here I could for thefirst time see the whole extent of the calamity. Many houses had beencompletely torn down, and the crops, and even the loose alluvial earthswept away; as we glided by each dreary scene of devastation, another yetmore dismal would appear in its place. 

This continued till we reached Melnick, where the trees become higher, and groups of houses peer forth from among the innumerable vineyards. Opposite this little town the Moldau falls into the Elbe. On the left, in the far distance, the traveller can descry St. George's Mount, fromwhich, as the story goes, Czech took possession of all Bohemia. 

Below the little town of Raudnitz the hills gave place to mountains, andas many enthusiasts can only find those regions romantic where themountains are crowned with half-ruined castles and strongholds, good oldTime has taken care to plant there two fine ruins, Hafenberg and Skalt, for the delectation of such sentimental observers. 

Near Leitmeritz, a small town with a handsome castle, and a church andconvent, the Eger flows into the Elbe, and a high-arched wooden bridgeconnects the two banks. Here our poor sailors had difficult work tolower the mast and the funnel. 

The rather pretty village of Gross-Czernoseck is remarkable for itsgigantic cellars, hewn out of the rock. A post-carriage could easilyturn round in one of these. The vats are of course proportioned to thecellars, particularly the barrels called the "twelve apostles, " each ofwhich holds between three and four thousand gallons. It would be no morethan fair to stop here awhile, to give every hero of the bottle anopportunity to enjoy a sight of these palace-cellars, and to offer alibation to the twelve apostles; but the steamer passed on, and we wereobliged to make the most of the descriptions furnished by those who weremore at home in these parts, and had no doubt frequently emerged in aninspired state from the depths of the cellars in question. 

The view now becomes more and more charming: the mountains appear to drawcloser together, and shut in the bed of the stream; romantic groups ofrocks, with summits crowned by rains yet more romantic, tower between. The ancient but well-preserved castle of Schreckenstein, built on a rockrising boldly out of the Elbe, is particularly striking; the approachesto it are by serpentine walks hewn out of the rock. 

Near the small town of Aussig we find the most considerable coal-mines inBohemia. In their neighbourhood is situated the little mountain estatePaschkal, which produces a kind of wine said to resemble champagne. 

The mountains now become higher and higher, but above them all towers thegigantic Jungfernsprung (Maiden's Leap). The beauty of this region isonly surpassed by the situation of the town and castle of Tetschen. Thecastle stands on a rock, between twenty and thirty feet high, which seemsto rise out of the Elbe; it is surrounded by hot-houses and charminggardens, shelving downwards as far as the town, which lies in a bloomingvalley, near a little harbour. The valley itself, encompassed by a chainof lofty mountains, seems quite shut out from the rest of the world. 

The left bank of the river is here so crowded with masses and walls ofrock, that there is only room at intervals for an isolated farm or hut. Suddenly the tops of masts appear between the high rocks, a phenomenonwhich is soon explained; a large gap in one of the rocky walls forms abeautiful basin. 

And now we come to Schandau, a place consisting only of a few houses; itis a frontier town of the Saxon dominions. Custom-house officers, a raceof beings ever associated with frontier towns, here boarded our vessel, and rummaged every thing. My daguerreotype apparatus, which I had lockedup in a small box, was looked upon with an eye of suspicion; but upon myassertion that it was exclusively intended for my own use, I and myapparatus were graciously dismissed. 

In our onward journey we frequently observed rocks of peculiar shapes, which have appropriate names, such as the "Zirkelstein, " "Lilienstein, "&c. The Konigstein is a collection of jagged masses of rock, on which isbuilt the fortress of the same name, used at present as a prison forgreat criminals. At the foot of the rocks lies the little town ofKonigstein. Not far off, on the right bank, a huge rock, resting onothers, bears a striking resemblance to a human head. The more distantgroups of rocks are called those of "Rathen, " but are considered asbelonging to Saxon Switzerland. The "Basteien" (Bastions) of thisSwitzerland, close by which we now pass, are most wonderfulsuperpositions of lofty and fantastically shaped rocks. Unfortunately, the steamer whirled us so rapidly on our way, that whilst we contemplatedone bank, the beauteous scenes on the opposite side had already glidedfrom our view. In much too short a time we had passed the town of Pirna, situate at the commencement of this range of mountains. The very ancientgate of this town towers far above all the other buildings. 

Lastly we see the great castle Sonnenstein, built on a rock, and now usedas an asylum for lunatics. 

All the beautiful and picturesque portion of our passage is now past, andthe royal villa of Pillnitz, with its many Chinese gables, looksinsignificant enough, after the grand scenes of nature. A chain ofhills, covered with the country-houses of citizens, adjoins it; and onthe right extends a large plain, at the far end of which we can dimlydescry the Saxon metropolis. But what is that in the distance? We havehardly time to arrange our luggage, when the anchor is let go near thefine old Dresden Bridge. 

This bridge had not escaped unscathed by the furious river. One of thecentre arches had given way, and the cross and watchbox which surmountedit were precipitated into the flood. At first, carriages still passedover the bridge; it was not until some time afterwards that the fullextent of the damage was ascertained, and the passage of carriages overthe bridge discontinued for many months. 

As I had seen the town of Dresden several years before, and the onlybuilding new to me was the splendid theatre, I took advantage of the fewevening hours of my stay to visit this structure. 

Standing in the midst of the beautiful Cathedral-square, its noblerotunda-like form at once rivets the attention. The inner theatre issurrounded by a superb broad and lofty corridor, with fine bow-windowsand straight broad staircases, leading in different directions towardsthe galleries. The interior of the theatre is not so spacious as, judging from the exterior, one would imagine it to be, but thearchitecture and decorations are truly gorgeous and striking. The boxesare all open, being separated from each other merely by a low partition;the walls and chairs are covered with heavy silken draperies, and theseats of the third and fourth galleries with a mixture of silk andcotton. One single circumstance was disagreeable to me in an acousticpoint of view--I could hear the slightest whisper of the prompter asdistinctly as though some one had been behind me reading the play. Thecurtain had scarcely fallen before the whole house was empty, and yetthere was no crowding to get out. This first drew my attention to thenumerous and excellently contrived doors. 

 April 16th. 

The Dresden omnibuses may be cited as models of comfort; one is certainof plenty of room, and there is no occasion to dread either the corpulentpersons or the furs and cloaks of fellow-passengers. A bell-pull isfixed in the interior of the carriage, so that each individual can givethe coachman a signal when he or she wishes to alight. These omnibusescall at the principal inns, and wait for a moment; but the traveller whois not ready in advance is left behind. 

At half-past five in the morning it called at our hotel. I was ready andwaiting, and drove off comfortably to the railway. The distance fromDresden to Leipzig is reckoned at fifty-six miles, and the journeyoccupied three hours. 

The first fourteen miles are very agreeable; gardens, fields, andmeadows, pine-forests in the plain and on the hills, and between these, villages, farms, country-houses, and solitary chapels, combine to form avery pretty landscape. But the scene soon changes, and the town ofMeissen (famous for its porcelain manufactory), on the right hand, seemsto shut out from our view all that is picturesque and beautiful. 

From here to Leipzig we travel through a wearisome monotonous plain, enlivened at long intervals by villages and scattered farms. There isnothing to see but a great tunnel, and the river Pleisse--the latter, orrather the Elster, is rendered famous by the death of Prince Poniatowski. {9}

The town of Leipzig, celebrated far and wide for its fairs, and more forits immense publishing trade, presents an appearance of noise and bustleproportionate to its commercial importance. I found streets, squares, and inns alike crowded. {10}

Perhaps there does not exist a town with its houses, and consequently itsstreets, so disfigured with announcements, in all sizes and shapes, covering its walls, and sometimes projecting several feet, as Leipzig. 

Among the public buildings, those which pleased me most were theAugusteum and the Burgerschule. The Bucherhalle (book-hall) I shouldsuppose indebted for its celebrity rather to its literary contents thanto its architectural beauty or its exterior. The hall itself is indeedlarge, and occupies the whole length of the building, while the lowerstory consists of several rooms. The hall, the chambers, and theexterior are all plain, and without particular decoration. The Tuchhalle(cloth-hall) is simply a large house, with spacious chambers, containingsupplies of cloth. The Theatre stands on a very large square, and doesnot present a very splendid appearance, whether viewed from within orfrom without. The plan of having stalls in front of the boxes in thesecond and third galleries was a novelty to me. The orchestra I couldonly hear, but could not discover its whereabouts; most probably it wasposted behind the scenes. On inquiry, I was told that this was only doneon extraordinary occasions, when the seats in the orchestra wereconverted into stalls, as was the case on the night of my visit. Theplay given was "the original Tartuffe, " a popular piece by Gutzkow. Itwas capitally performed. 

In the Leipzig theatre I had a second opportunity of observing, that asregards the love of eating our good Saxons are not a whit behind themuch-censured Viennese. In the Dresden theatre I had admired a couple ofladies who sat next me. They came provided with a neat bag, containing avery sufficient supply of confectionery, to which they perseveringlyapplied themselves between the acts. But at Leipzig I found adelicate-looking mother and her son, a lad of fifteen or sixteen years, regaling themselves with more solid provisions--white bread and smallsausages. I could not believe my eyes, and had made up my mind that thesausages were artificially formed out of some kind of confectionery--butalas! my nose came forward but too soon, as a potent witness, tocorroborate what I was so unwilling to believe!

Neither did these two episodes take place in the loftiest regions ofThalia's temple, but in the stalls of the second tier. 

Beautiful alleys are planted round Leipzig. I took a walk into theRosenthal (Valley of Roses), which also consists of splendid avenues andlawns. A pretty coffee-house, with a very handsome alcove, built in asemicircular form, invites the weary traveller to rest and refreshment, while a band of agreeable music diffuses mirth and good humour around. 

The rest of the scenery around Leipzig presents the appearance of a vastand monotonous plain. 

 April 17th. 

I had intended to continue my journey to Hamburgh via Berlin, but theweather was so cold and stormy, and the rain poured down so heavily, thatI preferred the shorter way, and proceeded by rail to Magdeburg. Flyingthrough the dismal plain past Halle, Kothen, and other towns, of which Icould only discern groups of houses, we hurriedly recognised the Saaleand the Elbe; and towards 10 o'clock in the morning arrived at Magdeburg, having travelled seventy miles in three hours and a quarter. 

As the steamer for Hamburgh was not to start until 3 o'clock, I had ampletime to look at the town. 

Magdeburg is a mixed pattern of houses of ancient, mediaeval, and moderndates. Particularly remarkable in this respect is the principal street, the "Broadway, " which runs through the whole of the town. Here we cansee houses dating their origin from the most ancient times; houses thathave stood proof against sieges and sackings; houses of all colours andforms; some sporting peaked gables, on which stone figures may still beseen; others covered from roof to basement with arabesques; and in oneinstance I could even detect the remains of frescoes. In the very midstof these relics of antiquity would appear a house built in the neweststyle. I do not remember ever having seen a street which produced soremarkable an impression on me. The finest building is unquestionablythe venerable cathedral. In Italy I had already seen numbers of the mostbeautiful churches; yet I remained standing in mute admiration beforethis masterpiece of Gothic architecture. 

The monument with the twelve Apostles in this church is a worthy memorialof the celebrated sculptor Vischer. In order to view it, it is necessaryto obtain the special permission of the commandant. 

The cathedral square is large, symmetrical, and decorated with two alleysof trees; it is also used as a drilling-ground for the soldiers' minormanoeuvres. I was particularly struck with the number of military men tobe seen here. Go where I would, I was sure to meet soldiers andofficers, frequently in large companies; in time of war it could scarcelyhave been worse. This was an unmistakeable token that I was on Prussianterritory. 

The open canals, which come from all the houses, and meander through thestreets, are a great disfigurement to the town. 

Half-past three o'clock came only too quickly, and I betook myself onboard the steamer _Magdeburg_, of sixty-horse power, to proceed toHamburgh. Of the passage itself I can say nothing, except that a journeyon a river through execrable scenery is one of the most miserable thingsthat can well be imagined. When, in addition to this, the weather isbad, the ship dirty, and one is obliged to pass a night on board, thediscomfort is increased. It was my lot to endure all this: the weatherwas bad, the ship was dirty, the distance more than 100 miles, so that wehad the pleasant prospect of a delightful night on board the ship. Therewere, moreover, so many passengers, that we were forced to sit crowdedtogether; so there we sat with exemplary patience, stared at each other, and sighed bitterly. Order was entirely out of the question; no one hadtime to think of such a thing. Smoking and card-playing wereperseveringly carried on all day and all night; it can easily be imaginedthat things did not go so quietly as at an English whist-party. Theincessant rain rendered it impossible to leave the cabin even for a shorttime. The only consolation I had was, that I made the acquaintance ofthe amiable composer Lorzing, a circumstance which delighted me the more, as I had always been an admirer of his beautiful original music. 

CHAPTER II

Morning dawned at length, and in a short time afterwards we reached thegreat commercial city, which, half destroyed by the dreadfulconflagration of 1842, had risen grander and more majestic from itsashes. {11} I took up my quarters with a cousin, who is married to theWurtemburg consul, the merchant Schmidt, in whose house I spent a mostagreeable and happy week. My cousin-in-law was polite enough to escortme every where himself, and to shew me the lions of Hamburgh. 

First of all we visited the Exchange between the hours of one and two, when it is at the fullest, and therefore best calculated to impress astranger with an idea of the extent and importance of the businesstransacted there. The building contains a hall of great size, witharcades and galleries, besides many large rooms, which are partly usedfor consultations, partly for the sale of refreshments. The mostinteresting thing of all is, however, to sit in the gallery, and lookingdownwards, to observe the continually increasing crowd passing andrepassing each other in the immense hall and through the galleries andchambers, and to listen to the hubbub and noise of the thousands of eagervoices talking at once. At half-past one o'clock the hall is at itsfullest, and the noise becomes absolutely deafening; for now they aremarking up the rates of exchange, by which the merchants regulate theirmonetary transactions. 

Leaving the Exchange, we bent our steps towards the great harbour, andentering a small boat, cruised in and about it in all directions. I hadresolved to count only the three-masted ships; but soon gave it up, fortheir number seemed overwhelming, even without reckoning the splendidsteamers, brigs, sloops, and craft. In short, I could only gaze andwonder, for at least 900 ships lay before me. 

Let any one fancy an excursion amidst 900 ships, great and small, whichlined both shores of the Elbe in tiers of three deep or more; the passingto and fro of countless boats busily employed in loading or unloadingthese vessels; these things, together with the shouting and singing ofthe sailors, the rattling of anchors which are being weighed, and therush and swell of passing steamers, combine to constitute a picture notto be surpassed in any city except in that metropolis of the world, London. {12}

The reason of this unusual activity in the harbour lay in the severity ofthe past winter. Such a winter had not been experienced for seventyyears: the Elbe and the Baltic lay for months in icy chains, and not aship could traverse the frozen river, not an anchor could be weighed orlowered. It was only a short time before my arrival that the passage hadonce more become free. 

In the neighbourhood of the harbour are situated the greater number ofthe so-called "yards. " I had read concerning them that, viewed from theexterior, they look like common houses; but that they constitute separatecommunities, and contain alleys and streets, serving as the domicile ofinnumerable families. I visited several of these places, and can assurethe reader that I saw nothing extraordinary in them. Houses with twolarge wings, forming an alley of from eighty to a hundred paces inlength, are to be met with in every large town; and that a number offamilies should inhabit such a house is not remarkable, considering thatthey are all poor, and that each only possesses a single small apartment. 

The favourite walk in the town is the "Jungfernstieg" (Maiden's Walk), abroad alley, extending round a spacious and beautiful basin of theAlster. On one side are splendid hotels, with which Hamburgh is richlyprovided; on the other, a number of private residences of equalpretensions. Other walks are, the "Wall, " surrounding the town, and the"Botanical Garden, " which resembles a fine park. The noblest building, distinguished alike as regards luxury, skill, tastefulness of design, andstability, is the Bazaar. It is truly a gigantic undertaking, and themore to be admired from the fact that it is not built upon shares, but atthe expense of a single individual, Herr Carl Sillem; the architect'sname is Overdick. The building itself is constructed entirely of stone, and the walls of the great room and of the hall are inlaid with marble. A lofty cupola and an immense glazed dome cover both the great room andthe hall; the upper staircases are ornamented with beautiful statues. When in the evening it is brilliantly lighted with gas, and furtherornamented by a tasteful display of the richest wares, the spectator canalmost fancy himself transported to a fairy palace. 

Altogether the shops in Hamburgh are very luxurious. The wares liedisplayed in the most tasteful manner behind huge windows of plate-glass, which are often from five to six feet broad, and eight or ten feet high;a single sheet frequently costs 600 florins. This plate-glass luxury isnot confined to shops, but extends to windows generally, not only inHamburgh, but also in Altona, and is also seen in the handsomestcountry-houses of the Hamburghers. Many a pane costs eight or tenflorins; and the glass is insured in case of breakage, like houses incase of fire. 

This display of glass is equalled by the costliness of the furniture, which is almost universally of mahogany; a wood which is here in suchcommon use, that in some of the most elegant houses the verystair-banisters are constructed of it. Even the pilots have oftenmahogany furniture. 

The handsomest and most frequented street is the "Neue Wall" (New Wall). I was particularly struck with the number of shops and dwellingsunderground, to which one descends by a flight of six or eight stairs; aniron railing is generally placed before the entrance, to prevent thepassers-by from falling down. 

A very practical institution is the great slaughterhouse, in which allcattle are killed on certain days of the week. 

Concerning the town of Altona, I have only to observe that it appeared tome a continuation of Hamburgh; from which town, indeed, it is onlyseparated by a wooden door. A very broad, handsome street, or, moreproperly speaking, an elongated square, planted with a double row oflarge trees, is the most remarkable thing about Altona, which belongs tothe Danish Government, and is considered, after Copenhagen, the mostimportant place in the kingdom. 

It is a delicious ride to the village of Blankenese, distant nine milesfrom Hamburgh; the road lies among beautiful country-houses and largepark-like gardens. Blankenese itself consists of cottages, grouped in apicturesque manner round the Sulberg, a hill from which the travellerenjoys a very extended view over the great plain, in which it is the onlyelevated point. The course of the Elbe, as it winds at moderate speedtowards the sea, is here to be traced almost to its embouchure atCuxhaven. 

The breadth of the Elbe at Blankenese exceeds two miles. 

Another interesting excursion is to the "New Mills, " a little village onthe Elbe, not more than half a mile from Altona, and inhabited only byfishermen and pilots. Whoever wishes to form an idea of Dutch prettinessand cleanliness should come here. 

The houses are mostly one story high, neatly and tastefully built; thebrightest of brass handles adorn the street-doors; the windows are keptscrupulously clean, and furnished with white curtains. 

In Saxony I had found many dwellings of the peasantry tidy and neatenough, displaying at any rate more opulence than we are accustomed tofind with this class of people; but I had seen none to compete with thispretty village. 

Among the peasants' costumes, I only liked that worn by the women fromthe "Vierlanden. " They wear short full skirts of black stuff, fine whitechemisettes with long sleeves, and coloured bodices, lightly fastened infront with silk cords or silver buckles. Their straw hats have a mostcomical appearance; the brim of the hat is turned up in such a mannerthat the crown appears to have completely sunk in. Many pretty younggirls dressed in this manner come to Hamburgh to sell flowers, and takeup their position in front of the Exchange. 

The 26th of April, the day appointed for my departure, arrived only toospeedily. To part is the unavoidable fate of the traveller; butsometimes we part gladly, sometimes with regret. I need not write manypages to describe my feelings at the parting in Hamburgh. I was leavingbehind me my last relations, my last friends. Now I was going into thewide world, and among strangers. 

At eight o'clock in the morning I left Altona, and proceeded by railwayto Kiel. 

I noticed with pleasure that on this railway even the third-classcarriages were securely covered in, and furnished with glass windows. Infact, they only differed from those of the first and second class inbeing painted a different colour, and having the seats uncushioned. 

The whole distance of seventy miles was passed in three hours; a rapidjourney, but agreeable merely by its rapidity, for the wholeneighbourhood presents only widely-extended plains, turf-bogs andmoorlands, sandy places and heaths, interspersed with a little meadow orarable land. From the nature of the soil, the water in the ditches andfields looked black as ink. 

Near Binneburg we notice a few stunted plantations of trees. FromEisholm a branch-line leads to Gluckstadt, and another from Neumunster, alarge place with important cloth-factories, to Rendsburg. 

From here there is nothing to be seen but a convent, in which many Dukesof Holstein lie buried, and several unimportant lakes; for instance, those of Bernsholm, Einfeld, and Schulhof. The little river Eider wouldhave passed unnoticed by me, had not some of my fellow-passengers made agreat feature of it. In the finest countries I have found the nativesfar less enthusiastic about what was really grand and beautiful, thanthey were here in praise of what was neither the one nor the other. Myneighbour, a very agreeable lady, was untiring in laudation of herbeautiful native land. In her eyes the crippled wood was a splendidpark, the waste moorland an inexhaustible field for contemplation, andevery trifle a matter of real importance. In my heart I wished her joyof her fervid imagination; but unfortunately my colder nature would notcatch the infection. 

Towards Kiel the plain becomes a region of low hills. Kiel itself isprettily situated on the Baltic, which, viewed from thence, has theappearance of a lake of middling size. The harbour is said to be good;but there were not many ships there. {13} Among these was the steamerdestined to carry me to Copenhagen. Little did I anticipate the goodreason I should have to remember this vessel. 

Thanks to the affectionate forethought of my cousin Schmidt, I found oneof his relations, Herr Brauer, waiting for me at the railway. I wasimmediately introduced to his family, and passed the few hours of my stayvery agreeably in their company. 

Evening approached, and with it the hour of embarkation. My kind friendsthe Brauers accompanied me to the steamer, and I took a grateful leave ofthem. 

I soon discovered the steamer _Christian VIII. _, of 180-horse power, tobe a vessel dirtier and more uncomfortable than any with which I hadbecome acquainted in my maritime excursions. Scrubbing and sweepingseemed things unknown here. The approach to the cabin was by a flight ofstairs so steep, that great care was requisite to avoid descending in anexpeditious but disagreeable manner, by a fall from top to bottom. Inthe fore-cabin there was no attempt at separate quarters for ladies andgentlemen. In short, the arrangements seemed all to have been made witha view of impressing the ship vividly on the recollection of everytraveller. 

At nine o'clock we left Kiel. The day and the twilight are here alreadylonger than in the lands lying to the south and the west. There waslight enough to enable me to see, looming out of the surroundingdarkness, the fortress "Friedrichsort, " which we passed at about teno'clock. 

 April 27th. 

To-day I still rose with the sun; but that will soon be a difficultmatter to accomplish; for in the north the goddess of light makes amendsin spring and summer for her shortcomings during the winter. I went ondeck, and looked on the broad expanse of ocean. No land was to be seen;but soon a coast appeared, then disappeared, and then a new and moredistant one rose out of the sea. Towards noon we reached the island ofMoen, which lies about forty {14} miles distant from Copenhagen. Itforms a beautiful group of rocks, rising boldly from the sea. They arewhite as chalk, and have a smooth and shining appearance. The highest ofthese walls of rock towers 400 feet above the level of the surroundingocean. Soon we saw the coast of Sweden, then the island of Malmo; and atlast Copenhagen itself, where we landed at four o'clock in the afternoon. The distance from Kiel to Copenhagen is 136 sea-miles. 

I remained seven days at Copenhagen, and should have had ample time tosee every thing, had the weather been more favourable. But it blew andrained so violently, that I was obliged to give up all thoughts ofvisiting the surrounding parks, and was fain to content myself withseeing a few of the nearest walks, which I accomplished with somedifficulty. 

The first street in Copenhagen which I traversed on coming from theharbour generally produces a great impression. It is called the "BroadStreet, " and leads from the harbour through the greater part of the town. In addition to its breadth it is very long and regular, and the splendidpalaces and houses on either side give it a remarkably grand appearance. 

It is a peculiar sight, when, in the midst of this fine quarter, we comesuddenly upon a ruin, a giant building resting on huge pillars, but halfcompleted, and partly covered with moss and lichens. It was intended fora splendid church, and is built entirely of marble; but the soft groundwould not bear the immense weight. The half-finished building began tosink, and the completion of the undertaking became for ever impossible. 

Many other streets rival the "Broad Street" in size and magnificence. Foremost among them comes the Amalienstrasse. The most bustling, but byfar not the finest, are the Oster and Gotherstrasse. To walk in these isat first quite a difficult undertaking for a stranger. On one side ofthe pavement, which is raised about a foot above the carriage-way, hecomes continually in contact with stairs, leading sometimes to warehousesabove, at others to subterranean warehouses below the level of thestreet. The approaches to the latter are not guarded by railings as inHamburgh. The other side of the pavement is bounded by a littleunostentatious rivulet, called by unpoetical people "canal, " into whichtributaries equally sweet pour from all the neighbouring houses. It istherefore necessary to take great care, lest you should fall into thetraitorous depths on the one side, or stumble over the projecting stepson the other. The pavement itself is covered with a row of stone slabs, a foot and a half wide, on which one walks comfortably enough. But thenevery body contends for the possession of these, to avoid the uneven andpointed stones at the side. This, added to the dreadful crowding, renders the street one which would scarcely be chosen for a walk, theless so as the shops do not contain any thing handsome, the houses areneither palace-like nor even tastefully built, and the street itself isneither of the broadest nor of the cleanest. 

The squares are all large and regularly built. The finest is theKongensnytorf (King's New Market). Some fine mansions, the chiefguard-house, the theatre, the chief coffee-houses and inns, the academyof the fine arts, and the building belonging to the botanical garden, thetwo last commonly known by the name of "Charlottenburg, " are among theornaments of this magnificent square, in the midst of which stands abeautiful monument, representing Christian V. On horseback, andsurrounded by several figures. 

Smaller, but more beautiful in its perfect symmetry, is the"Amalienplatz, " containing four royal palaces, built exactly alike, andintersected by four broad streets in the form of a cross. This squarealso is decorated by a monument standing in the midst, and representingFrederick V. In another fine square, the "Nytorf" (New Market), there isa fountain. Its little statue sends forth very meagre jets of water, andthe fountain is merely noticeable as being the only one I could find atCopenhagen. 

The traveller can hardly fail of being surprised by the number andmagnificence of the palaces, at sight of which he could fancy himself inthe metropolis of one of the largest kingdoms. The "Christianensburg" istruly imperial; it was completely destroyed by fire in the year 1794, buthas since been rebuilt with increased splendour. The chapel of thispalace is very remarkable. The interior has the appearance rather of aconcert-room than of a building devoted to purposes of worship. Tastefully decorated boxes, among which we notice that of the king, together with galleries, occupy the upper part of the chapel; the loweris filled with benches covered with red velvet and silk. The pulpit andaltar are so entirely without decoration, that, on first entering, theywholly escape notice. 

In the "Christianensburg" is also the "Northern Museum, " peculiarly richin specimens of the ornaments, weapons, musical instruments, and othermementoes of northern nations. 

The Winter Riding-school, in which concerts are frequently given, islarge and symmetrical. I admired the stalls, and yet more the greyhorses which occupied them--descendants of the pure Arabian and wildNorwegian breeds--creatures with long manes and tails of fine silky hair. Every one who sees these horses, whether he be a connoisseur or one ofthe uninitiated, must admire them. 

Adjoining the "Christianensburg" is Thorwaldsen's Museum, a squarebuilding with fine saloons, lighted from above. When I saw it, it wasnot completed; the walls were being painted in fresco by some of thefirst native artists. The sculptured treasures were there, butunfortunately yet unpacked. 

In the midst of the courtyard Thorwaldsen's mausoleum is being erected. There his ashes will rest, with his exquisitely finished lion as agravestone above them. {15}

The largest among the churches is the "Woman's Church. " The building hasno architectural beauty; the pillars, galleries, and cupola are all ofwood, covered with a mixture of sand and plaster. But whatever may bewanting in outward splendour is compensated by its contents, for thischurch contains the masterpieces of Thorwaldsen. At the high altarstands his glorious figure of our Saviour, in the niches of the wall hiscolossal twelve apostles. 

In the contemplation of these works we forget the plainness of thebuilding which contains them. May the fates be prosperous, and noconflagration reach this church, built as it is half of wood!

The Catholic Church is small, but tasteful beyond expression. The lateemperor of Austria presented to it a good full-toned organ, and twooil-paintings, one by Kuppelweiser, the other by a pupil of this master. 

In the "Museum of Arts" I was most interested in the ancient chair, usedin days of yore by Tycho de Brahe. {16}

The Exchange is a curious ancient building. It is very long and narrow, and surmounted by nine peaks, from the centre of which protrudes aremarkable pointed tower, formed of four crocodiles' tails intertwined. 

The hall itself is small, low, and dark; it contains a full-lengthportrait in oil of Tycho de Brahe. Nearly all the upper part of thebuilding is converted into a kind of bazaar, and the lower portioncontains a number of small and dingy booths. 

Several canals, having an outlet into the sea, give a peculiar charm tothe town. They are, in fact, so many markets; for the craft lying inthem are laden with provisions of all kinds, which are here offered forsale. 

The Sailors' Town, adjoining Copenhagen, and situated near the harbour, is singularly neat and pretty. It consists of three long, broad, straight streets, built of houses looking so exactly alike, that on afoggy night an accurate knowledge of the locality is requisite to knowone from the other. It looks as though, on each side of the way, therewere only one long house of a single floor, with a building one storyhigh in the middle. In the latter dwell the commandant and overseers. 

The lighting of the streets is managed in Copenhagen in the same way asin our smaller German towns. When "moonlight" is announced in thecalendar, not a lamp is lighted. If the lady moon chooses to hide behinddark clouds, that is her fault. It would be insolent to attempt tosupply the place of her radiance with miserable lamps--a wisearrangement! (?)

Of the near walks, the garden of the "Rosenburg, " within the town, pleased me much; as did also the "Long Line, " an alley of beautiful treesextending parallel with the sea, and in which one can either walk orride. A coffee-house, in front of which there is music in fine weather, attracts many of the loungers. The most beautiful place of all is the"Kastell, " above the "Long Line, " from whence one can enjoy a beautifulview. The town lies displayed below in all its magnificence: theharbour, with its many ships; the sparkling blue Sound, which spreads itsbroad expanse between the coasts of Denmark and Sweden, and washes many abeautiful group of islands belonging to one or the other of thesecountries. The background of the picture alone is uninteresting, asthere is no chain of mountains to form a horizon, and the eye wandersover the boundless flats of Denmark. 

Among the vessels lying at anchor in the harbour I saw but fewthree-masters, and still fewer steamers. The ships of the fleetpresented a curious appearance; at the first view they look like greathouses with flag-staves, for every ship is provided with a roof, out ofwhich the masts rise into the air; they are besides very high out of thewater, so that all the port-holes and the windows of the cabins appear intwo or three stories, one above the other. 

A somewhat more distant excursion, which can be very conveniently made ina capital omnibus, takes you to the royal chateau "Friedrichsberg, " lyingbefore the water-gate, two miles distant from the town. Splendid avenueslead to this place, where are to be found all the delights that cancombine to draw a citizen into the country. There are a tivoli, arailway, cabinets, and booths with wax-figures, and countless othersights, besides coffee-houses, beer-rooms, and music. The gardens areplanted at the sides with a number of small arbours, each containing atable and chairs, and all open in front, so as to shew at one view allthe visitors of these pretty natural huts. On Sundays, when the gardensare crowded, this is a very animated sight. 

On the way to this "Prater" of Copenhagen, we pass many handsome villas, each standing in a fine garden. 

 [Picture: Copenhagen: From Frederiesbourg]

The royal palace is situated on the summit of a hill, at the end of theavenue, and is surrounded by a beautiful park; it commands a view of agreat portion of the town, with the surrounding country and the sea;still I far prefer the prospect from the "Kastell. " The Park contains aconsiderable island, which, during some part of the year, stands in themidst of an extensive lake. This island is appropriated to the Court, but the rest of the park is open to the public. 

Immediately outside the water-gate stands an obelisk, remarkable neitherfor its beauty nor for the skill displayed in its erection, for itconsists of various stones, and is not high, but interesting from thecircumstance to which it owes its origin. It was erected by his gratefulsubjects in memory of the late king Christian VII. , to commemorate theabolition of feudal service. Surely no feeling person can contemplatewithout joyful emotion a monument like this. 

I have here given a faithful account of what I saw during my short stayat Copenhagen. It only remains for me to describe a few peculiar customsof the people, and so I will begin as it were at the end, with the burialof the dead. In Denmark, as in fact in the whole of Scandinavia, notexcepting Iceland, it is customary not to bury the dead until eight orten days have elapsed. In winter-time this is not of so muchconsequence, but in summer it is far from healthy for those under thesame roof with the corpse. I was present at Copenhagen at the funeral ofDr. Brandis, physician to the king. Two of the king's carriages and anumber of private equipages attended. Nearly all these were empty, andthe servants walked beside them. Among the mourners I did not notice asingle woman; I supposed that this was only the case at the funerals ofgentlemen, but on inquiry I found that the same rule is observed at theburial of women. This consideration for the weaker sex is carried sofar, that on the day of the funeral no woman may be seen in the house ofmourning. The mourners assemble in the house of the deceased, andpartake of cold refreshments. At the conclusion of the ceremony they areagain regaled. What particularly pleased me in Copenhagen was, that Inever on any occasion saw beggars, or even such miserably clad people asare found only too frequently in our great cities. Here there are nodoubt poor people, as there are such every where else in the world, butone does not see them beg. I cannot help mentioning an arrangement whichcertainly deserves to be universally carried out;--I mean, the settingapart of many large houses, partly belonging to the royal family, partlyto rich private people or to companies, for the reception of poor people, who are here lodged at a much cheaper rate than is possible in ordinarydwellings. 

The costumes of the peasants did not particularly please me. The womenwear dresses of green or black woollen stuff, reaching to the ankle, andtrimmed at the skirt with broad coloured woollen borders. The seams ofthe spenser, and the arm-holes, are also trimmed with smaller colouredborders. On their heads they wear a handkerchief, and over this a kindof shade, like a bonnet. On Sundays I saw many of them in small, prettycaps, worked with silk, with a border of lace of more than a hand'sbreadth, plaited very stiffly; at the back they have large bows of fineriband, the ends of which reach half down to their feet. I found nothingvery remarkable in the dress of the peasants. As far as strength andbeauty were concerned, I thought these peasants were neither more norless gifted than those of Austria. As regards the beauty of the fairsex, I should certainly give the preference to the Austrians. Fair hairand blue eyes predominate. 

I saw but few soldiers; their uniforms, particularly those worn by theking's life-guards, are very handsome. 

I especially noticed the drummers; they were all little lads of ten ortwelve years old. One could almost have exclaimed, "Drum, whither artthou carrying that boy?" To march, and to join in fatiguing manoeuvres, carrying such a drum, and beating it bravely at the same time, is rathercruel work for such young lads. Many a ruined constitution may beascribed to this custom. 

During my stay in Copenhagen I spent many very delightful hours withProfessor Mariboe and his amiable family, and with the kind clergyman ofthe embassy, Herr Zimmermann. They received me with true politeness andhospitality, and drew me into their circle, where I soon felt myselfquite at ease. I shall never forget their friendship, and shall make useof every opportunity to shew them my appreciation of it. Herr EdouardGottschalk and Herr Knudson have also my best thanks. I applied to thefirst of these gentlemen to procure me a passage to Iceland, and he waskind enough to use his interest with Herr Knudson on my behalf. 

Herr Knudson is one of the first general dealers in Copenhagen, andcarries on a larger and more extended commerce with Iceland than anyother house trading thither. He is already beginning to retire, as thecontinual journeys are becoming irksome to him; but he still owns anumber of great and small vessels, which are partly employed in thefisheries, and partly in bringing all kinds of articles of consumptionand luxury to the different harbours of Iceland. 

He himself goes in one of his ships every year, and stays a few months inIceland to settle his affairs there. On the recommendation of HerrGottschalk, Herr Knudson was kind enough to give me a passage in the shipin which he made the journey himself; a favour which I knew how to value. It is certainly no small kindness to take a lady passenger on such ajourney. Herr Knudson knew neither my fortitude nor my perseverance; hedid not know whether I should be able to endure the hardships of ajourney to the north, whether I would bear sea-sickness philosophically, or even if I had courage enough, in case of storms or bad weather, toabstain from annoying the captain by my fears or complaints at a timewhen he would only have too much to harass him. The kind man allowed nosuch considerations to influence him. He believed me when I promised tobehave courageously come what might, and took me with him. Indeed hiskindness went so far that it is to him I owe every comfort I enjoyed inIceland, and every assistance in furthering the attainment of myjourney's object. I could certainly not have commenced a voyage underbetter auspices. 

All ships visiting Iceland leave Copenhagen at the end of April, or atthe latest in the middle of May. After this time only one ship isdespatched, to carry the mails of the Danish government. This vesselleaves Copenhagen in October, remains in Iceland during the wintermonths, and returns in March. The gain or loss of this expedition isdistributed in shares among the merchants of Copenhagen. 

Besides this, a French frigate comes to Iceland every spring, and cruisesamong the different harbours until the middle of August. Shesuperintends the fishing vessels, which, attracted by the large profitsof the fisheries, visit these seas in great numbers during the summer. {17}

Opportunities of returning from Iceland occur during the summer until theend of September, by means of the merchant-ships, which carry freightsfrom the island to Denmark, England, and Spain. 

At length, on Sunday the 4th of May, a favourable wind sprung up. HerrKnudson sent me word to be ready to embark at noon on board the fine brig_John_. 

I immediately proceeded on board. The anchor was weighed, and the sails, unfolding themselves like giant wings, wafted us gently out of theharbour of Copenhagen. No parting from children, relations, orold-cherished friends embittered this hour. With a glad heart I badeadieu to the city, in the joyful hope soon to see the fulfilment of mylong-expected journey. 

The bright sky smiled above us, and a most favourable wind filled oursails. I sat on deck and revelled in the contemplation of scenes so newto me. Behind us lay spread the majestic town; before us the Sound, animmense natural basin, which I could almost compare to a great Swisslake; on the right and left were the coasts of Sweden and Denmark, whichhere approach each other so closely that they seem to oppose a barrier tothe further progress of the adventurous voyager. 

Soon we passed the little Swedish town of Carlscrona, and the desolateisland Hveen, on which Tycho de Brahe passed the greater portion of hislife, occupied with stellar observations and calculations. Now came asomewhat dangerous part, and one which called into action all the carefulseamanship of the captain to bring us safely through the confined sea andthe strong current, --the entrance of the Sound into the Cattegat. 

The two coasts here approach to within a mile of each other. On theSwedish side lies the pretty little town of Helsingborg, on the Danishside that of Helsingor, and at the extremity of a projecting neck of landthe fortress Kronburg, which demands a toll of every passing ship, andshews a large row of threatening cannon in case of non-compliance. Ourtoll had already been paid before leaving Copenhagen; we had beenaccurately signalled, and sailed fearlessly by. {18}

The entrance once passed, we entered the Cattegat, which already lookedmore like the great ocean: the coasts retired on each side, and most ofthe shifts and barques, which till now had hovered around us on allsides, bade us "farewell. " Some bent their course towards the east, others towards the west; and we alone, on the broad desert ocean, setsail for the icy north. Twilight did not set in until 9 o'clock atnight; and on the coasts the flaming beacons flashed up, to warn thebenighted mariner of the proximity of dangerous rocks. 

I now offered up my thanksgiving to Heaven for the protection hithertovouchsafed me, with a humble prayer for its continuance. Then Idescended to the cabin, where I found a convenient bunk (a kind of cribfixed to the side of the ship); I laid myself down, and was soon in adeep and refreshing sleep. 

I awoke full of health and spirits, which, however, I enjoyed but for ashort time. During the night we had left behind us the "Cattegat" andthe "Skagerrack, " and were driving through the stormy German Ocean. Ahigh wind, which increased almost to a gale, tumbled our poor ship aboutin such a manner, that none but a good dancer could hope to maintain anupright position. I had unfortunately been from my youth no votary ofTerpsichore, and what was I to do? The naiads of this stormy regionseized me, and bandied me to and fro, until they threw me into the armsof what was, according to my experience, if not exactly after Schiller'sinterpretation, "the horrible of horrors, "--sea-sickness. At first Itook little heed of this, thinking that sea-sickness would soon beovercome by a traveller like myself, who should be inured to every thing. But in vain did I bear up; I became worse and worse, till I was at lengthobliged to remain in my berth with but one consoling thought, namely, that we were to-day on the open sea, where there was nothing worthy ofnotice. But the following day the Norwegian coast was in sight, and atall hazards I must see it; so I crawled on deck more dead than alive, looked at a row of mountains of moderate elevation, their tops at thisearly season still sparkling with their snowy covering, and then hurriedback, benumbed by the piercing icy wind, to my good warm feather-bed. Those who have never experienced it can have no conception of the biting, penetrating coldness of a gale of wind in the northern seas. The sunshone high in the heavens; the thermometer (I always calculate accordingto Reaumur) stood 3 degrees above zero; I was dressed much more warmlythan I should have thought necessary when, in my fatherland, thethermometer was 8 or 10 degrees _below_ zero, and yet I felt chilled tothe heart, and could have fancied that I had no clothes on at all. 

On the fourth night we sailed safely past the Shetland Islands; and onthe evening of the fifth day we passed so near the majestic rocky groupof the Feroe Islands, that we were at one time apprehensive of being castupon the rocks by the unceasing gale. {19}

Already on the seventh day we descried the coast of Iceland. Our passagehad been unprecedentedly quick; the sailors declared that a favourablegale was to be preferred even to steam, and that on our present voyage weshould certainly have left every steamer in our wake. But I, wretchedbeing that I was, would gladly have dispensed with the services both ofgale and steam for the sake of a few hours' rest. My illness increasedso much, that on the seventh day I thought I must succumb. My limbs werebathed in a cold perspiration; I was as weak as an infant, and my mouthfelt parched and dry. I saw that I must now either make a great effortor give up entirely; so I roused myself, and with the assistance of thecabin-boy gained a seat, and promised to take any and every remedy whichshould be recommended. They gave me hot-water gruel with wine and sugar;but it was not enough to be obliged to force this down, I was furthercompelled to swallow small pieces of raw bacon highly peppered, and evena mouthful of rum. I need not say what strong determination was requiredto make me submit to such a regimen. I had, however, but one choice, either to conquer my repugnance or give myself up a victim tosea-sickness; so with all patience and resignation I received theproffered gifts, and found, after a trial of many hours, that I couldmanage to retain a small dose. This physicking was continued for twolong, long days, and then I began slowly to recover. 

I have here circumstantially described both my illness and its cure, because so many people are unfortunately victims to the complaint, andwhen under its influence cannot summon resolution to take sustenance. Ishould advise all my friends not to hold out so long as I did, but totake food at once, and continue to do so until the system will receiveit. 

As I was now convalescent, I tried to recruit my wearied mind by adiligent study of the mode of life and customs of the mariners of thenorthern seas. 

Our ship's company consisted of Herr Knudson, Herr Bruge (a merchant whomwe were to land at the Westmann Islands), the captain, the mate, and sixor seven sailors. Our mode of life in the cabin was as follows: in themorning, at seven o'clock, we took coffee, but whence this coffee came, heaven knows! I drank it for eleven days, and could never discover anything which might serve as a clue in my attempt to discover the countryof its growth. At ten o'clock we had a meal consisting of bread andbutter and cheese, with cold beef or pork, all excellent dishes for thosein health; the second course of this morning meal was "tea-water. " InScandinavia, by the way, they never say, "I drink _tea_, " the word"water" is always added: "I drink _tea-water_. " Our "tea-water" was, ifpossible, worse than its predecessor, the incomparable coffee. Thus Iwas beaten at all points; the eatables were too strong for me, thedrinkables too--too--I can find no appropriate epithet--probably tooartificial. I consoled myself with the prospect of dinner; but, alas, too soon this sweet vision faded into thin air! On the sixth day I mademy first appearance at the covered table, and could not help at onceremarking the cloth which had been spread over it. At the commencementof our journey it might perhaps have been white; now it was mostcertainly no longer of that snowy hue. The continual pitching androlling of the ship had caused each dish to set its peculiar stamp uponthe cloth. A sort of wooden network was now laid upon it, in theinterstices of which the plates and glasses were set, and thus securedfrom falling. But before placing it on the table, our worthy cabin-boytook each plate and glass separately, and polished it on a towel whichhung near, and in colour certainly rather resembling the dingy floor ofthe cabin than the bight-hued rainbow. This could still have beenendured, but the article in question really did duty _as a towel_ in themorning, before extending its salutary influence over plates and glassesfor the remainder of the day. 

On making discoveries such as these, I would merely turn away my eyes, and try to think that perhaps _my glass_ and _my plate_ would be moredelicately manipulated, or probably escape altogether; and then I wouldturn my whole attention to the expected dishes. 

First came soup; but instead of gravy-soup, it was water-soup, with riceand dried plums. This, when mingled with red wine and sugar, formed amost exquisite dish for Danish appetites, but it certainly did not suitmine. The second and concluding course consisted of a large piece ofbeef, with which I had no fault to find, except that it was too heavy forone in my weak state of health. At supper we had the same dishes as atdinner, and each meal was followed by "tea-water. " At first I could notfancy this bill of fare at all; but within a few days after myconvalesence, I had accustomed myself to it, and could bear the sea-dietvery well. {20}

As the rich owner of the vessel was on board, there was no lack of thebest wines, and few evenings passed on which a bowl of punch was notemptied. There was, however, a reason found why every bottle of wine orbowl of punch should be drunk: for instance, at our embarkation, to drinkthe health of the friends we were leaving, and to hope for a quick andprosperous voyage; then, when the wind was favourable, its health wasdrunk, with the request that it would remain so; when it was contrary, with the request that it would change; when we saw land, we saluted itwith a glass of wine, or perhaps with several, but I was too ill tocount; when we lost sight of it, we drank a farewell glass to its health:so that every day brought with it three or four distinct and separateoccasions for drinking wine. {21}

The sailors drank tea-water without sugar every morning and evening, withthe addition of a glass of brandy; for dinner they had pease, beans, barley, or potatoes, with salted cod, bacon, "or junk;" good sea-biscuitthey could get whenever they chose. 

The diet is not the worst part of these poor people's hardships. Theirlife may be called a continual fight against the elements; for it isprecisely during the most dreadful storms, with rain and piercing cold, that they have to be continually upon deck. I could not sufficientlyadmire the coolness, or rather the cheerfulness and alacrity with whichthey fulfilled their onerous duties. And what reward have they? Scantypay, for food the diet I have just described, and for theirsleeping-place the smallest and most inconvenient part of the ship, adark place frequently infested with vermin, and smelling offensively frombeing likewise used as a receptacle for oil-colours, varnish, tar, salt-fish, &c. &c. 

To be cheerful in the midst of all this requires a very quiet andcontented mind. That the Danish sailors are contented, I had manyopportunities of observing during the voyage of which I am speaking, andon several other occasions. 

But after all this long description, it is high time that I should returnto the journey itself. 

The favourable gale which had thus wafted us to the coast of Icelandwithin seven days, now unfortunately changed its direction, and drove usback. We drifted about in the storm-tost ocean, and many a Spanish wave{22} broke completely over our ship. Twice we attempted to approach theWestmann Islands {23} (a group belonging to Iceland) to watch anopportunity of casting anchor, and setting ashore our fellow-travellerHerr Bruge; but it was in vain, we were driven back each time. Atlength, at the close of the eleventh day, we reached Havenfiord, a verygood harbour, distant nine miles from Reikjavik, the capital of Iceland. 

In spite of the very inopportune change in the direction of the wind, wehad had an unprecedentedly quick passage. The distance from Copenhagento Iceland, in a straight line, is reckoned at 1200 geographical miles;for a sailing vessel, which must tack now and then, and must go as muchwith the wind as possible, 1500 to 1600 miles. Had the strong wind, which was at first so favourable, instead of changing on the seventh day, held on for thirty or forty hours longer, we should have landed inIceland on the eighth or ninth day--even the steamer could not haveaccomplished the passage so quickly. 

The shores of Iceland appeared to me quite different from what I hadsupposed them to be from the descriptions I had read. I had fancied themnaked, without tree or shrub, dreary and desert; but now I saw greenhills, shrubs, and even what appeared to be groups of stunted trees. Aswe came nearer, however, I was enabled to distinguish objects moreclearly, and the green hills became human dwellings with small doors andwindows, while the supposed groups of trees proved in reality to be heapsof lava, some ten or twelve feet high, thickly covered with moss andgrass. Every thing was new and striking to me; I waited in greatimpatience till we could land. 

At length the anchor descended; but it was not till next morning that thehour of disembarkation and deliverance came. 

But one more night, and then, every difficulty overcome, I should treadthe shores of Iceland, the longed-for, and bask as it were in the wondersof this island, so poor in the creations of art, so rich in the phenomenaof Nature. 

 * * * * *

Before I land in Iceland, I must trouble the reader with a fewpreliminary observations regarding this island. They are drawn fromMackenzie's _Description of Iceland_, a book the sterling value of whichis appreciated every where. {24}

The discovery of Iceland, about the year of our Lord 860, is attributedto the spirit of enterprise of some Swedish and Norwegian pirates, whowere drifted thither on a voyage to the Feroe Isles. It was not till theyear 874 that the island was peopled by a number of voluntary emigrants, who, feeling unhappy under the dominion of Harold Harfraga (fine hair), arrived at the island under the direction of Ingold. {25} As thenewcomers are said to have found no traces of dwellings, they arepresumed to be the first who took possession of the island. 

At this time Iceland was still so completely covered with underwood, thatat some points it was necessary to cut a passage. Bringing with themtheir language, religion, customs, and historical monuments, theNorwegians introduced a kind of feudal system, which, about the year 928, gave place to a somewhat aristocratic government, retaining, however, thename of a republic. The island was divided into four provinces, overeach of which was placed an hereditary governor or judge. 

The General Assembly of Iceland (called Allthing) was held annually onthe shores of the Lake Thingvalla. The people possessed an excellentcode of laws, in which provision had been made for every case which couldoccur. 

This state of things lasted for more than 300 years, a period which maybe called the golden age of Iceland. Education, literature, and evenrefined poetry flourished among the inhabitants, who took part incommerce and in the sea-voyages which the Norwegians undertook forpurposes of discovery. 

The "Sagas, " or histories of this country, contain many tales of personalbravery. Its bards and historians visited other climes, became thefavourites of monarchs, and returned to their island covered with honourand loaded with presents. The _Edda_, by Samund, is one of the mostvalued poems of the ancient days of Iceland. The second portion of the_Edda_, called _Skalda_, dates from a later period, and is ascribed bymany to the celebrated Snorri Sturluson. Isleif, first Bishop ofSkalholt, was the earliest Icelandic historian; after him came the notedSnorri Sturluson, born in 1178, who became the richest and mightiest manin Iceland. 

Snorri Sturluson was frequently followed to the General Assembly ofIceland by a splendid retinue of 800 armed men. He was a great historianand poet, and possessed an accurate knowledge of the Greek and Latintongues, besides being a powerful orator. He was also the author of the_Heims-kringla_. 

The first school was founded at Skalholt, about the middle of theeleventh century, under Isleif, first Bishop of Iceland; four otherschools and several convents soon followed. Poetry and music seem tohave formed a staple branch of education. 

The climate of Iceland appears to have been less inclement than is nowthe case; corn is said to have grown, and trees and shrubs were largerand thicker than we find them at present. The population of Iceland wasalso much more numerous than it is now, although there were neither townsnor villages. The people lived scattered throughout the island; and theGeneral Assembly was held at Thingvalla, in the open air. 

Fishing constituted the chief employment of the Icelanders. Theirclothing was woven from the wool of their sheep. Commerce withneighbouring countries opened to them another field of occupation. 

The doctrines of Christianity were first introduced into Iceland, in theyear 981, by Friederich, a Saxon bishop. Many churches were built, andtithes established for the maintenance of the clergy. Isleif, firstBishop of Skalholt, was ordained in the year 1057. After theintroduction of Christianity, all the Icelanders enjoyed anunostentatious but undisturbed practice of their religion. 

Greenland and the most northern part of America are said to have beendiscovered by Icelanders. 

In the middle of the thirteenth century Iceland came into the power ofthe Norwegian kings. In the year 1380 Norway was united to the crown ofDenmark; and Iceland incorporated, without resistance, in the Danishmonarchy. Since the cession of the island to Norway, and then toDenmark, peace and security took the place of the internal commotionswith which, before this time, Iceland had been frequently disturbed; butthis state of quiet brought forth indolence and apathy. The voyages ofdiscovery were interfered with by the new government, and the commercegradually passed into the hands of other nations. The climate appearsalso to have changed; and the lessened industry and want of perseverancein the inhabitants have brought agriculture completely into decline. 

In the year 1402 the plague broke out upon the island, and carried offtwo-thirds of the population. 

The first printing-press was established at Hoolum, about the year 1530, under the superintendence of the Bishop, John Areson. 

The reformation in the Icelandic Church was not brought about withoutdisturbance. It was legally established in the year 1551. 

During the fifteenth century the Icelanders suffered more from thepiratical incursions of foreigners. As late as the year 1616 the Frenchand English nations took part in these enormities. The most melancholyoccurrence of this kind took place in 1627, in which year a great numberof Algerine pirates made a descent upon the Icelandic coast, murderedabout fifty of the inhabitants, and carried off nearly 400 others intocaptivity. {26}

The eighteenth century commenced with a dreadful mortality from thesmallpox; of which disease more than 16, 000 of the inhabitants died. In1757 a famine swept away about 10, 000 souls. 

The year 1783 was distinguished by most dreadful volcanic outbreaks inthe interior of the island. Tremendous streams of lava carried allbefore them; great rivers were checked in their course, and formed lakes. For more than a year a thick cloud of smoke and volcanic ashes coveredthe whole of Iceland, and nearly darkened the sunlight. Horned cattle, sheep, and horses were destroyed; famine came, with its accompanyingillnesses; and once more appeared the malignant small-pox. In a fewyears more than 11, 000 persons had died; more than one-fourth of thewhole present population of the island. 

Iceland lies in the Atlantic ocean; its greatest breadth is 240geographical miles, and its extreme length from north to south 140 miles. The number of inhabitants is estimated at 48, 000, and the superficialextent of the island at 29, 800 square miles. 

CHAPTER III

On the morning of the 16th of May I landed in the harbour of Havenfiord, and for the first time trod the shores of Iceland. Although I was quitebewildered by sea-sickness, and still more by the continual rocking ofthe ship, so that every object round me seemed to dance, and I couldscarcely make a firm step, still I could not rest in the house of HerrKnudson, which he had obligingly placed at my disposal. I must go out atonce, to see and investigate every thing. I found that Havenfiordconsisted merely of three wooden houses, a few magazines built of thesame material, and some peasants' cottages. 

The wooden houses are inhabited by merchants or by their factors, andconsist only of a ground-floor, with a front of four or six windows. Twoor three steps lead up to the entrance, which is in the centre of thebuilding, and opens upon a hall from which doors lead into the rooms tothe right and left. At the back of the house is situated the kitchen, which opens into several back rooms and into the yard. A house of thisdescription consists only of five or six rooms on the ground-floor and afew small attic bedrooms. 

The internal arrangements are quite European. The furniture--which isoften of mahogany, --the mirrors, the cast-iron stoves, every thing, inshort, come from Copenhagen. Beautiful carpets lie spread before thesofas; neat curtains shade the windows; English prints ornament thewhitewashed walls; porcelain, plate, cut-glass, &c. , are displayed onchests and on tables; and flower-pots with roses, mignonnette, and pinksspread a delicious fragrance around. I even found a grand pianofortehere. If any person could suddenly, and without having made the journey, be transported into one of these houses, he would certainly fancy himselfin some continental town, rather than in the distant and barren island ofIceland. And as in Havenfiord, so I found the houses of the more opulentclasses in Reikjavik, and in all the places I visited. 

From these handsome houses I betook myself to the cottages of thepeasants, which have a more indigenous, Icelandic appearance. Small andlow, built of lava, with the interstices filled with earth, and the wholecovered with large pieces of turf, they would present rather theappearance of natural mounds of earth than of human dwellings, were itnot that the projecting wooden chimneys, the low-browed entrances, andthe almost imperceptible windows, cause the spectator to conclude thatthey are inhabited. A dark narrow passage, about four feet high, leadson one side into the common room, and on the other to a few compartments, some of which are used as storehouses for provisions, and the rest aswinter stables for the cows and sheep. At the end of this passage, whichis purposely built so low, as an additional defence against the cold, thefireplace is generally situated. The rooms of the poorer class haveneither wooden walls nor floors, and are just large enough to admit ofthe inhabitants sleeping, and perhaps turning round in them. The wholeinterior accommodation is comprised in bedsteads with very littlecovering, a small table, and a few drawers. Beds and chests of drawersanswer the purpose of benches and chairs. Above the beds are fixed rods, from which depend clothes, shoes, stockings, &c. A small board, on whichare arranged a few books, is generally to be observed. Stoves areconsidered unnecessary; for as the space is very confined, and the housedensely populated, the atmosphere is naturally warm. 

Rods are also placed round the fireplace, and on these the wet clothesand fishes are hung up in company to dry. The smoke completely fills theroom, and slowly finds its way through a few breathing-holes into theopen air. 

Fire-wood there is none throughout the whole island. The richinhabitants have it brought from Norway or Denmark; the poor burn turf, to which they frequently add bones and other offal of fish, whichnaturally engender a most disagreeable smoke. 

On entering one of these cottages, the visitor is at a loss to determinewhich of the two is the more obnoxious--the suffocating smoke in thepassage or the poisoned air of the dwelling-room, rendered almostinsufferable by the crowding together of so many persons. I could almostventure to assert, that the dreadful eruption called Lepra, which isuniversal throughout Iceland, owes its existence rather to the total wantof cleanliness than to the climate of the country or to the food. 

Throughout my subsequent journeys into the interior, I found the cottagesof the peasants every where alike squalid and filthy. Of course I speakof the majority, and not of the exceptions; for here I found a few richpeasants, whose dwellings looked cleaner and more habitable, inproportion to the superior wealth or sense of decency of the owners. Myidea is, that the traveller's estimate of a country should be formedaccording to the habits and customs of the generality of its inhabitants, and not according to the doings of a few individuals, as is often thecase. Alas, how seldom did I meet with these creditable exceptions!

The neighbourhood of Havenfiord is formed by a most beautiful andpicturesque field of lava, at first rising in hills, then sinking intohollows, and at length terminating in a great plain which extends to thebase of the neighbouring mountains. Masses of the most varied forms, often black and naked, rise to the height of ten or fifteen feet, formingwalls, ruined pillars, small grottoes, and hollow spaces. Over theselatter large slabs often extend, and form bridges. Every thing aroundconsists of suddenly cooled heaped-up masses of lava, in some instancescovered to their summits with grass and moss; this circumstance givesthem, as already stated, the appearance of groups of stunted trees. Horses, sheep, and cows were clambering about, diligently seeking outevery green place. I also clambered about diligently; I could not tireof gazing and wondering at this terribly beautiful picture ofdestruction. 

After a few hours I had so completely forgotten the hardships of mypassage, and felt myself so much strengthened, that I began my journey toReikjavik at five o'clock on the evening of the same day. Herr Knudsonseemed much concerned for me; he warned me that the roads were bad, andparticularly emphasised the dangerous abysses I should be compelled topass. I comforted him with the assurance that I was a good horsewoman, and could hardly have to encounter worse roads than those with which Ihad had the honour to become acquainted in Syria. I therefore took leaveof the kind gentleman, who intended to stay a week or ten days inHavenfiord, and mounting a small horse, set out in company of a femaleguide. 

In my guide I made the acquaintance of a remarkable antiquity of Iceland, who is well worthy that I should devote a few words to her description. She is above seventy years of age, but looks scarcely fifty; her head issurrounded by tresses of rich fair hair. She is dressed like a man;undertakes, in the capacity of messenger, the longest and most fatiguingjourneys; rows a boat as skilfully as the most practised fisherman; andfulfils all her missions quicker and more exactly than a man, for shedoes not keep up so good an understanding with the brandy-bottle. Shemarched on so sturdily before me, that I was obliged to incite my littlehorse to greater speed with my riding-whip. 

At first the road lay between masses of lava, where it certainly was noteasy to ride; then over flats and small acclivities, from whence we coulddescry the immense plain in which are situated Havenfiord, Bassastadt, Reikjavik, and other places. Bassastadt, a town built on a promontoryjutting out into the sea, contains one of the principal schools, a churchbuilt of masonry, and a few cottages. The town of Reikjavik cannot beseen, as it is hidden behind a hill. The other places consist chiefly ofa few cottages, and only meet the eye of the traveller when he approachesthem nearly. Several chains of mountains, towering one above the other, and sundry "Jokuls, " or glaciers, which lay still sparkling in theirwintry garb, surround this interminable plain, which is only open at oneend, towards the sea. Some of the plains and hills shone with tendergreen, and I fancied I beheld beautiful meadows. On a nearer inspection, however, they proved to be swampy places, and hundreds upon hundreds oflittle acclivities, sometimes resembling mole-hills, at others smallgraves, and covered with grass and moss. 

I could see over an area of at least thirty or forty miles, and yet couldnot descry a tree or a shrub, a bit of meadow-land or a friendly village. Every thing seemed dead. A few cottages lay scattered here and there; atlong intervals a bird would hover in the air, and still more seldom Iheard the kindly greeting of a passing inhabitant. Heaps of lava, swamps, and turf-bogs surrounded me on all sides; in all the vast expansenot a spot was to be seen through which a plough could be driven. 

After riding more than four miles, I reached a hill, from which I couldsee Reikjavik, the chief harbour, and, in fact, the only town on theisland. But I was deceived in my expectations; the place before me was amere village. 

The distance from Havenfiord to Reikjavik is scarcely nine miles; but asI was unwilling to tire my good old guide, I took three hours toaccomplish it. The road was, generally speaking, very good, excepting insome places, where it lay over heaps of lava. Of the much-dreaded dizzyabysses I saw nothing; the startling term must have been used todesignate some unimportant declivities, along the brow of which I rode, in sight of the sea; or perhaps the "abysses" were on the lava-fields, where I sometimes noticed small chasms of fifteen or sixteen feet indepth at the most. 

Shortly after eight o'clock in the evening I was fortunate enough toreach Reikjavik safe and well. Through the kind forethought of HerrKnudson, a neat little room had been prepared for me in one of his housesoccupied by the family of the worthy baker Bernhoft, and truly I couldnot have been better received any where. 

During my protracted stay the whole family of the Bernhofts shewed memore kindness and cordiality than it has been my lot frequently to find. Many an hour has Herr Bernhoft sacrificed to me, in order to accompany mein my little excursions. He assisted me most diligently in my search forflowers, insects, and shells, and was much rejoiced when he could find mea new specimen. His kind wife and dear children rivalled him inwillingness to oblige. I can only say, may Heaven requite them athousand-fold for their kindness and friendship!

I had even an opportunity of hearing my native language spoken by HerrBernhoft, who was a Holsteiner by birth, and had not quite forgotten ourdear German tongue, though he had lived for many years partly in Denmark, partly in Iceland. 

So behold me now in the only town in Iceland, {27} the seat of theso-called cultivated classes, whose customs and mode of life I will nowlay before my honoured readers. 

Nothing was more disagreeable to me than a certain air of dignity assumedby the ladies here; an air which, except when it is natural, or hasbecome so from long habit, is apt to degenerate into stiffness andincivility. On meeting an acquaintance, the ladies of Reikjavik wouldbend their heads with so stately and yet so careless an air as we shouldscarcely assume towards the humblest stranger. At the conclusion of avisit, the lady of the house only accompanies the guest as far as thechamber-door. If the husband be present, this civility is carried alittle further; but when this does not happen to be the case, a strangerwho does not know exactly through which door he can make his exit, maychance to feel not a little embarrassed. Excepting in the house of the"Stiftsamtmann" (the principal official on the island), one does not finda footman who can shew the way. In Hamburgh I had already noticed thebeginnings of this dignified coldness; it increased as I journeyedfurther north, and at length reached its climax in Iceland. 

Good letters of recommendation often fail to render the northern grandeespolite towards strangers. As an instance of this fact, I relate thefollowing trait:

Among other kind letters of recommendation, I had received one addressedto Herr von H---, the "Stiftsamtmann" of Iceland. On my arrival atCopenhagen, I heard that Herr von H--- happened to be there. I thereforebetook myself to his residence, and was shewn into a room where I foundtwo young ladies and three children. I delivered my letter, and remainedquietly standing for some time. Finding at length that no one invited meto be seated, I sat down unasked on the nearest chair, never supposingfor an instant that the lady of the house could be present, and neglectthe commonest forms of politeness which should be observed towards everystranger. After I had waited for some time, Herr von H--- graciouslymade his appearance, and expressed his regret that he should have verylittle time to spare for me, as he intended setting sail for Iceland withhis family in a short time, and in the interim had a number of weightyaffairs to settle at Copenhagen; in conclusion, he gave me the friendlyadvice to abandon my intention of visiting Iceland, as the fatigues oftravelling in that country were very great; finding, however, that Ipersevered in my intention, he promised, in case I set sail for Reikjavikearlier than himself, to give me a letter of recommendation. All thiswas concluded in great haste, and we stood during the interview. I tookmy leave, and at first determined not to call again for the letter. Onreflection, however, I changed my mind, ascribed my unfriendly receptionto important and perhaps disagreeable business, and called again two daysafterwards. Then the letter was handed to me by a servant; the highpeople, whom I could hear conversing in the adjoining apartment, probablyconsidered it too much trouble to deliver it to me personally. 

On paying my respects to this amiable family in Reikjavik, I was not alittle surprised to recognise in Frau von H--- one of those ladies who inCopenhagen had not had the civility to ask me to be seated. Five or sixdays afterwards, Herr von H--- returned my call, and invited me to anexcursion to Vatne. I accepted the invitation with much pleasure, andmentally asked pardon of him for having formed too hasty an opinion. Frau von H---, however, did not find her way to me until the fourth weekof my stay in Reikjavik; she did not even invite me to visit her again, so of course I did not go, and our acquaintance terminated there. As induty bound, the remaining dignitaries of this little town took their tonefrom their chief. My visits were unreturned, and I received noinvitations, though I heard much during my stay of parties of pleasure, dinners, and evening parties. Had I not fortunately been able to employmyself, I should have been very badly off. Not one of the ladies hadkindness and delicacy enough to consider that I was alone here, and thatthe society of educated people might be necessary for my comfort. I wasless annoyed at the want of politeness in the gentlemen; for I am nolonger young, and that accounts for every thing. When the women werewanting in kindliness, I had no right to expect consideration from thegentlemen. 

I tried to discover the reason of this treatment, and soon found that itlay in a national characteristic of these people--their selfishness. 

It appears I had scarcely arrived at Reikjavik before diligent inquirieswere set on foot as to whether I was _rich_, and should see much companyat my house, and, in fact, whether much could be got out of me. 

To be well received here it is necessary either to be rich, or else totravel as a naturalist. Persons of the latter class are generally sentby the European courts to investigate the remarkable productions of thecountry. They make large collections of minerals, birds, &c. ; they bringwith them numerous presents, sometimes of considerable value, which theydistribute among the dignitaries; they are, moreover, the projectors ofmany an entertainment, and even of many a little ball, &c. ; they buy upevery thing they can procure for their cabinets, and they always travelin company; they have much baggage with them, and consequently requiremany horses, which cannot be hired in Iceland, but must be bought. Onsuch occasions every one here is a dealer: offers of horses and cabinetspour in on all sides. 

The most welcome arrival of all is that of the French frigate, whichvisits Iceland every year; for sometimes there are _dejeuners a lafourchette_ on board, sometimes little evening parties and balls. Thereis at least something to be got besides the rich presents; the"Stiftsamtmann" even receives 600 florins per annum from the Frenchgovernment to defray the expense of a few return balls which he gives tothe naval officers. 

With me this was not the case: I gave no parties--I brought nopresents--they had nothing to expect from me; and therefore they left meto myself. {28}

For this reason I affirm that he only can judge of the character of apeople who comes among them without claim to their attention, and fromwhom they have nothing to expect. To such a person only do they appearin their true colours, because they do not find it worth while todissemble and wear a mask in his presence. In these cases the travelleris certainly apt to make painful discoveries; but when, on the otherhand, he meets with good people, he may be certain of their sincerity;and so I must beg my honoured readers to bear with me, when I mention thenames of all those who heartily welcomed the undistinguished foreigner;it is the only way in which I can express my gratitude towards them. 

As I said before, I had intercourse with very few people, so that ampletime remained for solitary walks, during which I minutely noticed everything around me. 

The little town of Reikjavik consists of a single broad street, withhouses and cottages scattered around. The number of inhabitants does notamount to 500. 

The houses of the wealthier inhabitants are of wood-work, and containmerely a ground-floor, with the exception of a single building of onestory, to which the high school, now held at Bassastadt, will betransferred next year. The house of the "Stiftsamtmann" is built ofstone. It was originally intended for a prison; but as criminals arerarely to be met with in Iceland, the building was many years agotransformed into the residence of the royal officer. A second stonebuilding, discernible from Reikjavik, is situated at Langarnes, half amile from the town. It lies near the sea, in the midst of meadows, andis the residence of the bishop. 

The church is capable of holding only at the most from 100 to 150persons; it is built of stone, with a wooden roof. In the chambers ofthis roof the library, consisting of several thousand volumes, isdeposited. The church contains a treasure which many a larger andcostlier edifice might envy, --a baptismal font by Thorwaldsen, whoseparents were of Icelandic extraction. The great sculptor himself wasborn in Denmark, and probably wished, by this present, to do honour tothe birth-place of his ancestors. 

To some of the houses in Reikjavik pieces of garden are attached. Thesegardens are small plots of ground where, with great trouble and expense, salad, spinach, parsley, potatoes, and a few varieties of edible roots, are cultivated. The beds are separated from each other by strips of turfa foot broad, seldom boasting even a few field-flowers. 

The inhabitants of Iceland are generally of middle stature, and stronglybuilt, with light hair, frequently inclining to red, and blue eyes. Themen are for the most part ugly; the women are better favoured, and amongthe girls I noticed some very sweet faces. To attain the age of seventyor eighty years is here considered an extraordinary circumstance. {29}The peasants have many children, and yet few; many are born, but fewsurvive the first year. The mothers do not nurse them, and rear them onvery bad food. Those who get over the first year look healthy enough;but they have strangely red cheeks, almost as though they had aneruption. Whether this appearance is to be ascribed to the sharp air, towhich the delicate skin is not yet accustomed, or to the food, I knownot. 

In some places on the coast, when the violent storms prevent the poorfishermen for whole weeks from launching their boats, they live almostentirely on dried fishes' heads. {30} The fishes themselves have beensalted down and sold, partly to pay the fishermen's taxes, and partly toliquidate debts for the necessaries of the past season, among whichbrandy and snuff unfortunately play far too prominent a part. 

Another reason why the population does not increase is to be found in thenumerous catastrophes attending the fisheries during the stormy season ofthe year. The fishermen leave the shore with songs and mirth, for abright sky and a calm sea promise them good fortune. But, alas, tempestsand snow-storms too often overtake the unfortunate boatmen! The sea islashed into foam, and mighty waves overwhelm boats and fishermentogether, and they perish inevitably. It is seldom that the father of afamily embarks in the same boat with his sons. They divide themselvesamong different parties, in order that, if one boat founder, the wholefamily may not be destroyed. 

I found the cottages of the peasants at Reikjavik smaller, and in everyrespect worse provided, than those at Havenfiord. This seems, however, to be entirely owing to the indolence of the peasants themselves; forstones are to be had in abundance, and every man is his own builder. Thecows and sheep live through the winter in a wretched den, built either inthe cottage itself or in its immediate neighbourhood. The horses passthe whole year under the canopy of heaven, and must find their ownprovender. Occasionally only the peasant will shovel away the snow froma little spot, to assist the poor animals in searching for the grass ormoss concealed beneath. It is then left to the horses to finish clearingaway the snow with their feet. It may easily be imagined that this modeof treatment tends to render them very hardy; but the wonder is, how thepoor creatures manage to exist through the winter on such spare diet, andto be strong and fit for work late in the spring and in summer. Thesehorses are so entirely unused to being fed with oats, that they willrefuse them when offered; they are not even fond of hay. 

As I arrived in Iceland during the early spring, I had an opportunity ofseeing the horses and sheep in their winter garments. The horses seemedto be covered, not with hair, but with a thick woolly coat; their manesand tails are very long, and of surprising thickness. At the end of Mayor the beginning of June the tail and mane are docked and thinned, theirwoolly coat falls of itself, and they then look smooth enough. The sheephave also a very thick coat during the winter. It is not the custom toshear them, but at the beginning of June the wool is picked off piece bypiece with the hand. A sheep treated in this way sometimes presents avery comical appearance, being perfectly naked on one side, while on theother it is still covered with wool. 

The horses and cows are considerably smaller than those of our country. No one need journey so far north, however, to see stunted cattle. Already, in Galicia, the cows and horses of the peasants are not a whitlarger or stronger than those in Iceland. The Icelandic cows are furtherremarkable only for their peculiarly small horns; the sheep are alsosmaller than ours. 

Every peasant keeps horses. The mode of feeding them is, as alreadyshewn, very simple; the distances are long, the roads bad, and largerivers, moorlands, and swamps must frequently be passed; so every onerides, both men, women, and children. The use of carriages is as totallyunknown throughout the island as in Syria. 

The immediate vicinity of Reikjavik is pretty enough. Some of thetownspeople go to much trouble and expense in sometimes collecting andsometimes breaking the stones around their dwellings. With the littleground thus obtained they mix turf, ashes, and manure, until at length asoil is formed on which something will grow. But this is such a giganticundertaking, that the little culture bestowed on the spots whollyneglected by nature cannot be wondered at. Herr Bernhoft shewed me asmall meadow which he had leased for thirty years, at an annual rent ofthirty kreutzers. In order, however, to transform the land he boughtinto a meadow, which yields winter fodder for only one cow, it wasnecessary to expend more than 150 florins, besides much personal labourand pains. The rate of wages for peasants is very high when comparedwith the limited wants of these people: they receive thirty or fortykreutzers per diem, and during the hay-harvest as much as a florin. 

For a long distance round the town the ground consists of stones, turf, and swamps. The latter are mostly covered with hundreds upon hundreds ofgreat and small mounds of firm ground. By jumping from one of thesemounds to the next, the entire swamp may be crossed, not only withoutdanger, but dry-footed. 

In spite of all this, one of these swamps put me in a position of muchdifficulty and embarrassment during one of my solitary excursions. I wassauntering quietly along, when suddenly a little butterfly fluttered pastme. It was the first I had seen in this country, and my eagerness tocatch it was proportionately great. I hastened after it; thought neitherof swamp nor of danger, and in the heat of the chase did not observe thatthe mounds became every moment fewer and farther between. Soon I foundmyself in the middle of the swamp, and could neither advance nor retreat. Not a human being could I descry; the very animals were far from me; andthis circumstance confirmed me as to the dangerous nature of the ground. Nothing remained for me but to fix my eyes upon one point of thelandscape, and to step out boldly towards it. I was often obliged tohazard two or three steps into the swamp itself, in order to gain thenext acclivity, upon which I would then stand triumphantly, to determinemy farther progress. So long as I could distinguish traces of horses'hoofs, I had no fear; but even these soon disappeared, and I stood therealone in the morass. I could not remain for ever on my tower ofobservation, and had no resource but to take to the swamp once more. Imust confess that I experienced a very uncomfortable feeling ofapprehension when my foot sank suddenly into the soft mud; but when Ifound that it did not rise higher than the ankles, my courage returned; Istepped out boldly, and was fortunate enough to escape with the frightand a thorough wetting. 

The most arduous posts in the country are those of the medical men andclergymen. Their sphere of action is very enlarged, particularly that ofthe medical man, whose practice sometimes extends over a distance ofeighty to a hundred miles. When we add to this the severity of thewinter, which lasts for seven or eight months, it seems marvellous thatany one can be found to fill such a situation. 

In winter the peasants often come with shovels, pickaxes, and horses tofetch the doctor. They then go before him, and hastily repair the worstpart of the road; while the doctor rides sometimes on one horse, sometimes on another, that they may not sink under the fatigue. And thusthe procession travels for many, many miles, through night and fog, through storm and snow, for on the doctor's promptitude life and deathoften hang. When he then returns, quite benumbed, and half dead withcold, to the bosom of his family, in the expectation of rest andrefreshment, and to rejoice with his friends over the dangers andhardships he has escaped, the poor doctor is frequently compelled to setoff at once on a new and important journey, before he has even had timeto greet the dear ones at home. 

Sometimes he is sent for by sea, where the danger is still greater on thestorm-tost element. 

Though the salary of the medical men is not at all proportionate to thehardships they are called upon to undergo, it is still far better thanthat of the priests. 

The smallest livings bring in six to eight florins annually, the richest200 florins. Besides this, the government supplies for each priest ahouse, often not much better than a peasant's cottage, a few meadows, andsome cattle. The peasants are also required to give certain smallcontributions in the way of hay, wool, fish, &c. The greater number ofpriests are so poor, that they and their families dress exactly like thepeasants, from whom they can scarcely be distinguished. The clergyman'swife looks after the cattle, and milks cows and ewes like a maid-servant;while her husband proceeds to the meadow, and mows the grass with thelabourer. The intercourse of the pastor is wholly confined to thesociety of peasants; and this constitutes the chief element of that"patriarchal life" which so many travellers describe as charming. Ishould like to know which of them would wish to lead such a life!

The poor priest has, besides, frequently to officiate in two, three, oreven four districts, distant from four to twelve miles from hisresidence. Every Sunday he must do duty at one or other of thesedistricts, taking them in turn, so that divine service is only performedat each place once in every three or four weeks. The journeys of thepriest, however, are not considered quite so necessary as those of thedoctor; for if the weather is very bad on Sundays, particularly duringthe winter, he can omit visiting the most distant places. This is donethe more readily, as but few of the peasants would be at church; all wholived at a distance remaining at home. 

The Sysselmann (an officer similar to that of the sheriff of a county) isthe best off. He has a good salary with little to do, and in some placesenjoys in addition the "strand-right, " which is at times noinconsiderable privilege, from the quantity of drift timber washed ashorefrom the American continent. 

Fishing and the chase are open to all, with the exception of thesalmon-fisheries in the rivers; these are farmed by the government. Eider-ducks may not be shot, under penalty of a fine. There is nomilitary service, for throughout the whole island no soldiers arerequired. Even Reikjavik itself boasts only two police-officers. 

Commerce is also free; but the islanders possess so little commercialspirit, that even if they had the necessary capital, they would neverembark in speculation. 

The whole commerce of Iceland thus lies in the hands of Danish merchants, who send their ships to the island every year, and have establishedfactories in the different ports where the retail trade is carried on. 

These ships bring every thing to Iceland, corn, wood, wines, manufacturedgoods, and colonial produce, &c. The imports are free, for it would notpay the government to establish offices, and give servants salaries tocollect duties upon the small amount of produce required for the island. Wine, and in fact all colonial produce, are therefore much cheaper thanin other countries. 

The exports consist of fish, particularly salted cod, fish-roe, tallow, train-oil, eider-down, and feathers of other birds, almost equal toeider-down in softness, sheep's wool, and pickled or salted lamb. Withthe exception of the articles just enumerated, the Icelanders possessnothing; thirteen years ago, when Herr Knudson established a bakehouse, {31} he was compelled to bring from Copenhagen, not only the builder, buteven the materials for building, stones, lime, &c. ; for although theisland abounds with masses of stone, there are none which can be used forbuilding an oven, or which can be burnt into lime: every thing is oflava. 

Two or three cottages situated near each other are here dignified by thename of a "place. " These places, as well as the separate cottages, aremostly built on little acclivities, surrounded by meadows. The meadowsare often fenced in with walls of stone or earth, two or three feet inheight, to prevent the cows, sheep, and horses from trespassing upon themto graze. The grass of these meadows is made into hay, and laid up as awinter provision for the cows. 

I did not hear many complaints of the severity of the cold in winter; thetemperature seldom sinks to twenty degrees below zero; the sea issometimes frozen, but only a few feet from the shore. The snowstorms andtempests, however, are often so violent, that it is almost impossible toleave the house. Daylight lasts only for five or six hours, and tosupply its place the poor Icelanders have only the northern light, whichis said to illumine the long nights with a brilliancy truly marvellous. 

The summer I passed in Iceland was one of the finest the inhabitants hadknown for years. During the month of June the thermometer often rose atnoon to twenty degrees. The inhabitants found this heat soinsupportable, that they complained of being unable to work or to go onmessages during the day-time. On such warm days they would only begintheir hay-making in the evening, and continued their work half the night. 

The changes in the weather are very remarkable. Twenty degrees of heaton one day would be followed by rain on the next, with a temperature ofonly five degrees; and on the 5th of June, at eight o'clock in themorning, the thermometer stood at one degree below zero. It is alsocurious that thunderstorms happen in Iceland in winter, and are saidnever to occur during the summer. 

From the 16th or 18th of June to the end of the month there is no night. The sun appears only to retire for a short time behind a mountain, andforms sunset and morning-dawn at the same time. As on one side the lastbeam fades away, the orb of day re-appears at the opposite one withredoubled splendour. 

During my stay in Iceland, from the 15th of May to the 29th of July, Inever retired to rest before eleven o'clock at night, and never requireda candle. In May, and also in the latter portion of the month of July, there was twilight for an hour or two, but it never became quite dark. Even during the last days of my stay, I could read until half-past teno'clock. At first it appeared strange to me to go to bed in broaddaylight; but I soon accustomed myself to it, and when eleven o'clockcame, no sunlight was powerful enough to cheat me of my sleep. I foundmuch pleasure in walking at night, at past ten o'clock, not in the palemoonshine, but in the broad blaze of the sun. 

It was a much more difficult task to accustom myself to the diet. Thebaker's wife was fully competent to superintend the cooking according tothe Danish and Icelandic schools of the art; but unfortunately thesemodes of cookery differ widely from ours. One thing only was good, themorning cup of coffee with cream, with which the most accomplishedgourmand could have found no fault: since my departure from Iceland Ihave not found such coffee. I could have wished for some of my dearViennese friends to breakfast with me. The cream was so thick, that I atfirst thought my hostess had misunderstood me, and brought me curds. Thebutter made from the milk of Icelandic cows and ewes did not look veryinviting, and was as white as lard, but the taste was good. TheIcelanders, however, find the taste not sufficiently "piquant, " andgenerally qualify it with train-oil. Altogether, train-oil plays a veryprominent part in the Icelandic kitchen; the peasant considers it a mostdelicious article, and thinks nothing of devouring a quantity of itwithout bread, or indeed any thing else. {32}

I did not at all relish the diet at dinner; this meal consisted of twodishes, namely, boiled fish, with vinegar and melted butter instead ofoil, and boiled potatoes. Unfortunately I am no admirer of fish, and nowthis was my daily food. Ah, how I longed for beef-soup, a piece of meat, and vegetables, in vain! As long as I remained in Iceland, I wascompelled quite to give up my German system of diet. 

After a time I got on well enough with the boiled fish and potatoes, butI could not manage the delicacies of the island. Worthy Madame Bernhoft, it was so kindly meant on her part; and it was surely not her fault thatthe system of cookery in Iceland is different from ours; but I could notbring myself to like the Icelandic delicacies. They were of differentkinds, consisting sometimes of fishes, hard-boiled eggs, and potatoeschopped up together, covered with a thick brown sauce, and seasoned withpepper, sugar, and vinegar; at others, of potatoes baked in butter andsugar. Another delicacy was cabbage chopped very small, rendered verythin by the addition of water, and sweetened with sugar; the accompanyingdish was a piece of cured lamb, which had a very unpleasant "pickled"flavour. 

On Sundays we sometimes had "Prothe Grutze, " properly a Scandinaviandish, composed of fine sago boiled to a jelly, with currant-juice or redwine, and eaten with cream or sugar. Tapfen, a kind of soft cheese, isalso sometimes eaten with cream and sugar. 

In the months of June and July the diet improved materially. We couldoften procure splendid salmon, sometimes roast lamb, and now and thenbirds, among which latter dainties the snipes were particularly good. Inthe evening came butter, cheese, cold fish, smoked lamb, and eggs ofeider-ducks, which are coarser than hen's eggs. In time I became soaccustomed to this kind of food, that I no longer missed either soup orbeef, and felt uncommonly well. 

My drink was always clear fresh water; the gentlemen began their dinnerwith a small glass of brandy, and during the meal all drank beer of HerrBernhoft's own brewing, which was very good. On Sundays, a bottle ofport or Bordeaux sometimes made its appearance at our table; and as wefared at Herr Bernhoft's, so it was the custom in the houses of all themerchants and officials. 

At Reikjavik I had an opportunity of witnessing a great religiousceremony. Three candidates of theology were raised to the ministerialoffice. Though the whole community here is Lutheran, the ceremoniesdiffer in many respects from those of the continent of Europe, and I willtherefore give a short sketch of what I saw. The solemnity began atnoon, and lasted till four o'clock. I noticed at once that all thepeople covered their faces for a moment on entering the church, the menwith their hats, and the women with their handkerchiefs. Most of thecongregation sat with their faces turned towards the altar; but this rulehad its exceptions. The vestments of the priests were the same as thoseworn by our clergymen, and the commencement of the service also closelyresembled the ritual of our own Church; but soon this resemblance ceased. The bishop stepped up to the altar with the candidates, and performedcertain ceremonies; then one would mount the pulpit and read part of asermon, or sing a psalm, while the other clergymen sat round on chairs, and appeared to listen; then a second and a third ascended the pulpit, and afterwards another sermon was preached from the altar, and anotherpsalm sung; then a sermon was again read from the pulpit. Whileceremonies were performed at the altar, the sacerdotal garments wereoften put on and taken off again. I frequently thought the service wascoming to a close, but it always began afresh, and lasted, as I saidbefore, until four o'clock. The number of forms surprised me greatly, asthe ritual of the Lutheran Church is in general exceedingly simple. 

On this occasion a considerable number of the country people wereassembled, and I had thus a good opportunity of noticing their costumes. The dresses worn by the women and girls are all made of coarse blackwoollen stuffs. The dress consists of a long skirt, a spencer, and acoloured apron. On their heads they wear a man's nightcap of blackcloth, the point turned downwards, and terminating in a large tassel ofwool or silk, which hangs down to the shoulder. Their hair is unbound, and reaches only to the shoulder: some of the women wear it slightlycurled. I involuntarily thought of the poetical descriptions of thenorthern romancers, who grow enthusiastic in praise of ideal "angels'heads with golden tresses. " The hair is certainly worn in this mannerhere, and our poets may have borrowed their descriptions from theScandinavians. But the beautiful faces which are said to beam forth fromamong those golden locks exist only in the poet's vivid imagination. 

Ornamental additions to the costume are very rare. In the whole assemblyI only noticed four women who were dressed differently from the others. The cords which fastened their spencers, and also their girdles, wereornamented with a garland worked in silver thread. Their skirts were offine black cloth, and decorated with a border of coloured silk a fewinches broad. Round their necks they wore a kind of stiff collar ofblack velvet with a border of silver thread, and on their heads a blacksilk handkerchief with a very strange addition. This appendage consistedof a half-moon fastened to the back of the head, and extending five orsix inches above the forehead. It was covered with white lawn arrangedin folds; its breadth at the back of the head did not exceed an inch anda half, but in front it widened to five or six inches. 

The men, I found, were clothed almost like our peasants. They woresmall-clothes of dark cloth, jackets and waistcoats, felt hats, or furcaps; and instead of boots a kind of shoe of ox-hide, sheep, orseal-skin, bound to the feet by a leather strap. The women, and even thechildren of the officials, all wear shoes of this description. 

It was very seldom that I met people so wretchedly and poorly clad as wefind them but too often in the large continental towns. I never saw anyone without good warm shoes and stockings. 

The better classes, such as merchants, officials, &c. Are dressed in theFrench style, and rather fashionably. There is no lack of silk and othercostly stuffs. Some of these are brought from England, but the greaterpart come from Denmark. 

On the king's birthday, which is kept every year at the house of theStiftsamtmann, the festivities are said to be very grand; on thisoccasion the matrons appear arrayed in silk, and the maidens in whitejaconet; the rooms are lighted with wax tapers. 

Some speculative genius or other has also established a sort of club inReikjavik. He has, namely, hired a couple of rooms, where thetownspeople meet of an evening to discuss "tea-water, " bread and butter, and sometimes even a bottle of wine or a bowl of punch. In winter theproprietor gives balls in these apartments, charging 20 kr. For eachticket of admission. Here the town grandees and the handicraftsmen, infact all who choose to come, assemble; and the ball is said to beconducted in a very republican spirit. The shoemaker leads forth thewife of the Stiftsamtmann to the dance, while that official himself hasperhaps chosen the wife or daughter of the shoemaker or baker for hispartner. The refreshments consist of "tea-water" and bread and butter, and the room is lighted with tallow candles. The music, consisting of akind of three-stringed violin and a pipe, is said to be exquisitelyhorrible. 

In summer the dignitaries make frequent excursions on horse-back; and onthese occasions great care is taken that there be no lack of provisions. Commonly each person contributes a share: some bring wine, others cake;others, again, coffee, and so on. The ladies use fine Englishside-saddles, and wear elegant riding-habits, and pretty felt hats withgreen veils. These jaunts, however, are confined to Reikjavik; for, as Ihave already observed, there is, with the exception of this town, noplace in Iceland containing more than two or three stores and somehalf-dozen cottages. 

To my great surprise, I found no less than six square piano-fortesbelonging to different families in Reikjavik, and heard waltzes by ourfavourite composers, besides variations of Herz, and some pieces ofLiszt, Wilmers, and Thalberg. But such playing! I do not think thatthese talented composers would have recognised their own works. 

In conclusion, I must offer a few remarks relative to the travelling inthis country. 

The best time to choose for this purpose is from the middle of June tothe end of August at latest. Until June the rivers are so swollen andturbulent, by reason of the melting snows, as to render it very dangerousto ride through them. The traveller must also pass over many a field ofsnow not yet melted by the sun, and frequently concealing chasms andmasses of lava; and this is attended with danger almost as great. Atevery footstep the traveller sinks into the snow; and he may thank hislucky stars if the whole rotten surface does not give way. In Septemberthe violent storms of wind and rain commence, and heavy falls of snow maybe expected from day to day. 

A tent, provisions, cooking utensils, pillows, bed-clothes, and warmgarments, are highly necessary for the wayfarer's comfort. Thisparaphernalia would have been too expensive for me to buy, and I wasunprovided with any thing of the kind; consequently I was forced toendure the most dreadful hardships and toil, and was frequently obligedto ride an immense distance to reach a little church or a cottage, whichwould afford me shelter for the night. My sole food for eight or tendays together was often bread and cheese; and I generally passed thenight upon a chest or a bench, where the cold would often prevent myclosing my eyes all night. 

It is advisable to be provided with a waterproof cloak and a sailor'starpaulin hat, as a defence against the rain, which frequently falls. Anumbrella would be totally useless, as the rain is generally accompaniedby a storm, or, at any rate, by a strong wind; when we add to this, thatit is necessary in some places to ride quickly, it will easily be seenthat holding an umbrella open is a thing not to be thought of. 

Altogether I found the travelling in this country attended with far morehardship than in the East. For my part, I found the dreadful storms ofwind, the piercing air, the frequent rain, and the cold, much lessendurable than the Oriental heat, which never gave me either cracked lipsor caused scales to appear on my face. In Iceland my lips began to bleedon the fifth day; and afterwards the skin came off my face in scales, asif I had had the scrofula. Another source of great discomfort is to befound in the long riding-habit. It is requisite to be very warmly clad;and the heavy skirts, often dripping with rain, coil themselves round thefeet of the wearer in such a manner, as to render her exceedingly awkwardeither in mounting or dismounting. The worst hardship of all, however, is the being obliged to halt to rest the horses in a meadow during therain. The long skirts suck up the water from the damp grass, and thewearer has often literally not a dry stitch in all her garments. 

Heat and cold appear in this country to affect strangers in a remarkabledegree. The cold seemed to me more piercing, and the heat moreoppressive in Iceland, than when the thermometer stood at the same pointsin my native land. 

In summer the roads are marvellously good, so that one can generally rideat a pretty quick pace. They are, however, impracticable for vehicles, partly because they are too narrow, and partly also on account of somevery bad places which must occasionally be encountered. On the wholeisland not a single carriage is to be found. 

The road is only dangerous when it leads through swamps and moors, orover fields of lava. Among these fields, such as are covered with whitemoss are peculiarly to be feared, for the moss frequently conceals verydangerous holes, into which the horse can easily stumble. In ascendingand descending the hills very formidable spots sometimes oppose thetraveller's progress. The road is at times so hidden among swamps andbogs, that not a trace of it is to be distinguished, and I could onlywonder how my guide always succeeded in regaining the right path. Onecould almost suppose that on these dangerous paths both horse and man areguided by a kind of instinct. 

Travelling is more expensive in Iceland than any where else, particularlywhen one person travels alone, and must bear all the expense of thebaggage, the guide, ferries, &c. Horses are not let out on hire, theymust be bought. They are, however, very cheap; a pack-horse costs fromeighteen to twenty-four florins, and a riding-horse from forty to fiftyflorins. To travel with any idea of comfort it is necessary to haveseveral pack-horses, for they must not be heavily laden; and anadditional servant must likewise be hired, as the guide only looks afterthe saddle-horses, and, at most, one or two of the pack-horses. If thetraveller, at the conclusion of the journey, wishes to sell the horses, such a wretchedly low price is offered, that it is just as well to givethem away at once. This is a proof of the fact that men are every wherealike ready to follow up their advantage. These people are well awarethat the horses must be left behind at any rate, and therefore they willnot bid for them. I must confess that I found the character of theIcelanders in every respect below the estimate I had previously formed ofit, and still further below the standard given in books. 

In spite of their scanty food, the Icelandic horses have a marvellouspower of endurance; they can often travel from thirty-five to forty milesper diem for several consecutive days. But the only difficulty is tokeep the horse moving. The Icelanders have a habit of continuallykicking their heels against the poor beast's sides; and the horse at lastgets so accustomed to this mode of treatment, that it will hardly go ifthe stimulus be discontinued. In passing the bad pieces of road it isnecessary to keep the bridle tight in hand, or the horse will stumblefrequently. This and the continual urging forward of the horse renderriding very fatiguing. {33}

Not a little consideration is certainly required before undertaking ajourney into the far north; but nothing frightened me, --and even in themidst of the greatest dangers and hardships I did not for one momentregret my undertaking, and would not have relinquished it under anyconsideration. 

I made excursions to every part of Iceland, and am thus enabled to placebefore my readers, in regular order, the chief curiosities of thisremarkable country. I will commence with the immediate neighbourhood ofReikjavik. 

CHAPTER IV

 May 25th. 

Stiftsamtmann von H--- was to-day kind enough to pay me a visit, and toinvite me to join his party for a ride to the great lake Vatne. I gladlyaccepted the invitation, for, according to the description given by theStiftsamtmann, I hoped to behold a very Eden, and rejoiced at theprospect of observing the recreations of the higher classes, and at thesame time gaining many acquisitions in specimens of plants, butterflies, and beetles. I resolved also to test the capabilities of the Icelandichorses more thoroughly than I had been able to do during my first ridefrom Havenfiord to Reikjavik, as I had been obliged on that occasion toride at a foot-pace, on account of my old guide. 

The hour of starting was fixed for two o'clock. Accustomed as I am tostrict punctuality, I was ready long before the appointed time, and attwo o'clock was about to hasten to the place of rendezvous, when myhostess informed me I had plenty of time, for Herr von H--- was still atdinner. Instead of meeting at two o'clock, we did not assemble untilthree, and even then another quarter of an hour elapsed before thecavalcade started. Oh, Syrian notions of punctuality and dispatch!Here, almost at the very antipodes, did I once more greet ye. 

The party consisted of the nobility and the town dignitaries. Among theformer class may be reckoned Stiftsamtmann von H--- and his lady; a privycouncillor, Herr von B---, who had been sent from Copenhagen to attendthe "Allthing" (political assembly); and a Danish baron, who hadaccompanied the councillor. I noticed among the town dignitaries thedaughter and wife of the apothecary, and the daughters of some merchantsresident here. 

Our road lay through fields of lava, swamps, and very poor grassypatches, in a great valley, swelling here and there into gentleacclivities, and shut in on three sides by several rows of mountains, towering upwards in the most diversified shapes. In the far distancerose several jokuls or glaciers, seeming to look proudly down upon themountains, as though they asked, "Why would ye draw men's eyes upon you, where we glisten in our silver sheen?" In the season of the year atwhich I beheld them, the glaciers were still very beautiful; not onlytheir summits, but their entire surface, as far as visible, being coveredwith snow. The fourth side of the valley through which we travelled waswashed by the ocean, which melted as it were into the horizon inimmeasurable distance. The coast was dotted with small bays, having theappearance of so many lakes. 

As the road was good, we could generally ride forward at a brisk pace. Occasionally, however, we met with small tracts on which the Icelandichorse could exercise its sagacity and address. My horse was careful andfree from vice; it carried me securely over masses of stone and chasms inthe rocks, but I cannot describe the suffering its trot caused me. It issaid that riding is most beneficial to those who suffer fromliver-complaints. This may be the case; but I should suppose that anyone who rode upon an Icelandic horse, with an Icelandic side-saddle, every day for the space of four weeks, would find, at the expiration ofthat time, her liver shaken to a pulp, and no part of it remaining. 

All the rest of the party had good English saddles, mine alone was ofIcelandic origin. It consisted of a chair, with a board for the back. The rider was obliged to sit crooked upon the horse, and it wasimpossible to keep a firm seat. With much difficulty I trotted after theothers, for my horse would not be induced to break into a gallop. 

At length, after a ride of an hour and a half, we reached a valley. Inthe midst of a tolerably green meadow I descried what was, for Iceland, afarm of considerable dimensions, and not far from this farm was a verysmall lake. I did not dare to ask if this was the _great_ lake Vatne, orif this was the delicious prospect I had been promised, for my questionwould have been taken for irony. I could not refrain from wonder whenHerr von H--- began praising the landscape as exquisite, and fartherdeclaring the effect of the lake to be bewitching. I was obliged, forpoliteness' sake, to acquiesce, and leave them in the supposition that Ihad never seen a larger lake nor a finer prospect. 

We now made a halt, and the whole party encamped in the meadow. Whilethe preparations for a social meal were going on, I proceeded to satisfymy curiosity. 

The peasant's house first attracted my attention. I found it to consistof one large chamber, and two of smaller size, besides a storeroom andextensive stables, from which I judged that the proprietor was rich incattle. I afterwards learnt that he owned fifty sheep, eight cows, andfive horses, and was looked upon as one of the richest farmers in theneighbourhood. The kitchen was situated at the extreme end of thebuilding, and was furnished with a chimney that seemed intended only as aprotection against rain and snow, for the smoke dispersed itselfthroughout the whole kitchen, drying the fish which hung from theceiling, and slowly making its exit through an air-hole. 

The large apartment boasted a wooden bookshelf, containing about fortyvolumes. Some of these I turned over, and in spite of my limitedknowledge of the Danish language, could make out enough to discover thatthey were chiefly on religious subjects. But the farmer seemed also tolove poetry; among the works of this class in his library, I noticedKleist, Muller, and even Homer's _Odyssey_. I could make nothing of theIcelandic books; but on inquiring their contents, I was told that theyall treated of religious matters. 

After inspecting these, I walked out into the meadow to search forflowers and herbs. Flowers I found but few, as it was not the right timeof the year for them; my search for herbs was more successful, and I evenfound some wild clover. I saw neither beetles nor butterflies; but, tomy no small surprise, heard the humming of two wild bees, one of which Iwas fortunate enough to catch, and took home to preserve in spirits ofwine. 

On rejoining my party, I found them encamped in the meadow around atable, which had in the meantime been spread with butter, cheese, bread, cake, roast lamb, raisins and almonds, a few oranges, and wine. Neitherchairs nor benches were to be had, for even wealthy peasants only possessplanks nailed to the walls of their rooms; so we all sat down upon thegrass, and did ample justice to the capital coffee which made thecommencement of the meal. Laughter and jokes predominated to such anextent, that I could have fancied myself among impulsive Italians insteadof cold Northmen. 

There was no lack of wit; but to-day I was unfortunately its butt. Andwhat was my fault?--only my stupid modesty. The conversation was carriedon in the Danish language; some members of our party spoke French andothers German, but I purposely abstained from availing myself of theiracquirements, in order not to disturb the hilarity of the conversation. I sat silently among them, and was perfectly contented in listening totheir merriment. But my behaviour was set down as proceeding fromstupidity, and I soon gathered from their discourse that they werecomparing me to the "stone guest" in Mozart's _Don Giovanni_. If thesekind people had only surmised the true reason of my keeping silence, theywould perhaps have thanked me for doing so. 

As we sat at our meal, I heard a voice in the farmhouse singing anIcelandic song. At a distance it resembled the humming of bees; on anearer approach it sounded monotonous, drawling, and melancholy. 

While we were preparing for our departure, the farmer, his wife, and theservants approached, and shook each of us by the hand. This is the usualmode of saluting such _high_ people as we numbered among our party. Thetrue national salutation is a hearty kiss. 

On my arrival at home the effect of the strong coffee soon began tomanifest itself. I could not sleep at all, and had thus ample leisure tomake accurate observations as to the length of the day and of thetwilight. Until eleven o'clock at night I could read ordinary print inmy room. From eleven till one o'clock it was dusk, but never so dark asto prevent my reading in the open air. In my room, too, I coulddistinguish the smallest objects, and even tell the time by my watch. Atone o'clock I could again read in my room. 

EXCURSION TO VIDOE. 

The little island of Vidoe, four miles distant from Reikjavik, isdescribed by most travellers as the chief resort of the eider-duck. Ivisited the island on the 8th of June, but was disappointed in myexpectations. I certainly saw many of these birds on the declivities andin the chasms of the rocks, sitting quietly on their nests, but nothingapproaching the thousands I had been led to expect. On the whole, I mayperhaps have seen from one hundred to a hundred and fifty nests. 

The most remarkable circumstance connected with the eider-ducks is theirtameness during the period of incubation. I had always regarded as mythsthe stories told about them in this respect, and should do so still had Inot convinced myself of the truth of these assertions by laying handsupon the ducks myself. I could go quite up to them and caress them, andeven then they would not often leave their nests. Some few birds, indeed, did so when I wished to touch them; but they did not fly up, butcontented themselves with coolly walking a few paces away from the nest, and there sitting quietly down until I had departed. But those whichalready had live young, beat out boldly with their wings when Iapproached, struck at me with their bills, and allowed themselves to betaken up bodily rather than leave the nest. They are about the size ofour ducks; their eggs are of a greenish grey, rather larger than hen'seggs, and taste very well. Altogether they lay about eleven eggs. Thefinest down is that with which they line their nests at first; it is of adark grey colour. The Icelanders take away this down, and the first nestof eggs. The poor bird now robs herself once more of a quantity of down(which is, however, not of so fine a quality as the first), and againlays eggs. For the second time every thing is taken from her; and notuntil she has a third time lined the nest with her down is the eider-duckleft in peace. The down of the second, and that of the third qualityespecially, are much lighter than that of the first. I also wassufficiently cruel to take a few eggs and some down out of several of thenests. {34}

I did not witness the dangerous operation of collecting this down frombetween the clefts of rocks and from unapproachable precipices, wherepeople are let down, or to which they are drawn up, by ropes, at peril oftheir lives. There are, however, none of these break-neck places in theneighbourhood of Reikjavik. 

SALMON FISHERY. 

I made another excursion to a very short distance (two miles) fromReikjavik, in the company of Herr Bernhoft and his daughter, to theLaxselv (salmon river) to witness the salmon-fishing, which takes placeevery week from the middle of June to the middle of August. It isconducted in a very simple manner. The fish come up the river in thespawning season; the stream is then dammed up with several walls of stoneloosely piled to the height of some three feet; and the retreat of thefish to the sea is thus cut off. When the day arrives on which thesalmon are to be caught, a net is spread behind each of these walls. Three or four such dams are erected at intervals, of from eighty to ahundred paces, so that even if the fishes escape one barrier, they aregenerally caught at the next. The water is now made to run off as muchas possible; the poor salmon dart to and fro, becoming every moment moreand more aware of the sinking of the water, and crowd to the weirs, cutting themselves by contact with the sharp stones of which they arebuilt. This is the deepest part of the water; and it is soon so throngedwith fish, that men, stationed in readiness, can seize them in theirhands and fling them ashore. 

The salmon possess remarkable swiftness and strength. The fisherman isobliged to take them quickly by the head and tail, and to throw themashore, when they are immediately caught by other men, who fling themstill farther from the water. If this is not done with great quicknessand care, many of the fishes escape. It is wonderful how these creaturescan struggle themselves free, and leap into the air. The fishermen areobliged to wear woollen mittens, or they would be quite unable to holdthe smooth salmon. At every day's fishing, from five hundred to athousand fish are taken, each weighing from five to fifteen pounds. Onthe day when I was present eight hundred were killed. This salmon-streamis farmed by a merchant of Reikjavik. 

The fishermen receive very liberal pay, --in fact, one-half of the fishtaken. And yet they are dissatisfied, and show so little gratitude, asseldom to finish their work properly. So, for instance, they onlybrought the share of the merchant to the harbour of Reikjavik, and werefar too lazy to carry the salmon from the boat to the warehouse, adistance certainly not more than sixty or seventy paces from the shore. They sent a message to their employer, bidding him "send some freshhands, for they were much too tired. " Of course, in a case like this, all remonstrance is unavailing. 

As in the rest of the world, so also in Iceland, every occasion thatoffers is seized upon for a feast or a merry-making. The day on which Iwitnessed the salmon-fishing happened to be one of the few fine days thatoccur during a summer in Iceland. It was therefore unanimously concludedby several merchants, that the day and the salmon-fishing should becelebrated by a _dejeuner a la fourchette_. Every one contributedsomething, and a plentiful and elegant breakfast was soon arranged, whichquite resembled an entertainment of the kind in our country; this onecircumstance excepted, that we were obliged to seat ourselves on theground, by reason of a scarcity of tables and benches. Spanish andFrench wines, as well as cold punch, were there in plenty, and thegreatest hilarity prevailed. 

I made a fourth excursion, but to a very inconsiderable distance, --infact, only a mile and a half from Reikjavik. It was to see a hot andslightly sulphurous spring, which falls into a river of cold water. Bythis lucky meeting of extremes, water can be obtained at any temperature, from the boiling almost to the freezing point. The townspeople takeadvantage of this good opportunity in two ways, for bathing and forwashing clothes. The latter is undoubtedly the more important purpose ofapplication, and a hut has been erected, in order to shield the poorpeople from wind and rain while they are at work. Formerly this hut wasfurnished with a good door and with glazed windows, and the key was keptat an appointed place in the town, whence any one might fetch it. Butthe servants and peasant girls were soon too lazy to go for the key; theyburst open the lock, and smashed the windows, so that now the hut has avery ruinous appearance, and affords but little protection against theweather. How much alike mankind are every where, and how seldom they doright, except when it gives them no trouble, and then, unfortunately, there is not much merit to be ascribed to them, as their doing right ismerely the result of a lucky chance! Many people also bring fish andpotatoes, which they have only to lay in the hot water, and in a shorttime both are completely cooked. 

This spring is but little used for the purpose of bathing; at mostperhaps by a few children and peasants. Its medicinal virtues, if itpossesses any, are completely unknown. 

THE SULPHUR-SPRINGS AND SULPHUR-MOUNTAINS OF KRISUVIK. 

The 4th of June was fixed for my departure. I had only to pack up somebread and cheese, sugar and coffee, then the horses were saddled, and atseven o'clock the journey was happily commenced. I was alone with myguide, who, like the rest of his class, could not be considered as a veryfavourable specimen of humanity. He was very lazy, exceedinglyself-interested, and singularly loath to devote any part of his attentioneither to me or to the horses, preferring to concentrate it upon brandy, an article which can unfortunately be procured throughout the wholecountry. 

I had already seen the district between Reikjavik and Havenfiord at myfirst arrival in Iceland. At the present advanced season of the year itwore a less gloomy aspect: strawberry-plants and violets, --the former, however, without blossoms, and the latter inodorous, --were springing upbetween the blocks of lava, together with beautiful ferns eight or teninches high. In spite of the trifling distance, I noticed, as a rule, that vegetation was here more luxuriant than at Reikjavik; for at thelatter place I had found no strawberry-plants, and the violets were notyet in blossom. This difference in the vegetation is, I think, to beascribed to the high walls of lava existing in great abundance roundHavenfiord; they protect the tender plants and ferns from the piercingwinds. I noticed that both the grass and the plants before mentionedthrove capitally in the little hollows formed by masses of lava. 

A couple of miles beyond Havenfiord I saw the first birch-trees, which, however, did not exceed two or three feet in height, also somebilberry-plants. A number of little butterflies, all of one colour, and, as it seemed to me, of the same species, fluttered among the shrubs andplants. 

The manifold forms and varied outline of the lava-fields present aremarkable and really a marvellous appearance. Short as this journeyis--for ten hours are amply sufficient for the trip to Krisuvik, --itpresents innumerable features for contemplation. I could only gaze andwonder. I forgot every thing around me, felt neither cold nor storm, andlet my horse pick his way as slowly as he chose, so that I had oncealmost become separated from my guide. 

One of the most considerable of the streams of lava lay in a spaciousbroad valley. The lava-stream itself, about two miles long, and of aconsiderable breadth, traversing the whole of the plain, seemed to havebeen called into existence by magic, as there was no mountain to be seenin the neighbourhood from which it could have emerged. It appeared to bethe covering of an immense crater, formed, not of separate stones andblocks, but of a single and slightly porous mass of rock ten or twelvefeet thick, broken here and there by clefts about a foot in breadth. 

Another, and a still larger valley, many miles in circumference, wasfilled with masses of lava shaped like waves, reminding the beholder of apetrified sea. From the midst rose a high black mountain, contrastingbeautifully with the surrounding masses of light-grey lava. At first Isupposed the lava must have streamed forth from this mountain, but soonfound that the latter was perfectly smooth on all sides, and terminatedin a sharp peak. The remaining mountains which shut in the valley werealso perfectly closed, and I looked in vain for any trace of a crater. 

We now reached a small lake, and soon afterwards arrived at a larger one, called Kleinfarvatne. Both were hemmed in by mountains, which frequentlyrose abruptly from the waters, leaving no room for the passage of thehorses. We were obliged sometimes to climb the mountains by fearfullydizzy paths; at others to scramble downwards, almost clinging to the faceof the rock. At some points we were even compelled to dismount from ourhorses, and scramble forward on our hands and knees. In a word, thesedangerous points, which extended over a space of about seven miles, werecertainly quite as bad as any I had encountered in Syria; if any thing, they were even more formidable. 

I was, however, assured that I should have no more such places toencounter during all my further journeys in Iceland, and this informationquite reconciled me to the roads in this country. For the rest, the pathwas generally tolerably safe even during this tour, which continually ledme across fields of lava. 

A journey of some eight-and-twenty miles brought us at length into afriendly valley; clouds of smoke, both small and great, were soondiscovered rising from the surrounding heights, and also from the valleyitself; these were the sulphur-springs and sulphur-mountains. 

I could hardly restrain my impatience while we traversed the couple ofmiles which separated us from Krisuvik. A few small lakes were still tobe crossed; and at length, at six o'clock in the evening, we reached ourdestination. 

With the exception of a morsel of bread and cheese, I had eaten nothingsince the morning; still I could not spare time to make coffee, but atonce dismounted, summoned my guide, and commenced my pilgrimage to thesmoking mountains. At the outset our way lay across swampy places andmeadow lands; but soon we had to climb the mountains themselves, a taskrendered extremely difficult by the elastic, yielding soil, in whichevery footstep imprinted itself deeply, suggesting to the traveller theunpleasant possibility of his sinking through, --a contingency renderedany thing but agreeable by the neighbourhood of the boiling springs. Atlength I gained the summit, and saw around me numerous basins filled withboiling water, while on all sides, from hill and valley, columns ofvapour rose out of numberless clefts in the rocks. From a cleft in onerock in particular a mighty column of vapour whirled into the air. Onthe windward side I could approach this place very closely. The groundwas only lukewarm in some places, and I could hold my hand for severalmoments to the gaps from which steam issued. No trace of a crater was tobe seen. The bubbling and hissing of the steam, added to the noise ofthe wind, occasioned such a deafening clamour, that I was very glad tofeel firmer ground beneath my feet, and to leave the place in haste. Itreally seemed as if the interior of the mountain had been a boilingcaldron. The prospect from these mountains is very fine. Numerousvalleys and mountains innumerable offered themselves to my view, and Icould even discern the isolated black rock past which I had ridden fiveor six hours previously. 

I now commenced my descent into the valley; at a few hundred paces thebubbling and hissing were already inaudible. I supposed that I had seenevery thing worthy of notice; but much that was remarkable stillremained. I particularly noticed a basin some five or six feet indiameter, filled with boiling mud. This mud has quite the appearance offine clay dissolved in water; its colour was a light grey. 

From another basin, hardly two feet in diameter, a mighty column of steamshot continually into the air with so much force and noise that I startedback half stunned, and could have fancied the vault of heaven wouldburst. This basin is situated in a corner of the valley, closely shut inon three sides by hills. In the neighbourhood many hot springs gushedforth; but I saw no columns of water, and my guide assured me that such aphenomenon was never witnessed here. 

There is more danger in passing these spots than even in traversing themountains. In spite of the greatest precautions, I frequently sank inabove the ankles, and would then draw back with a start, and find my footcovered with hot mud. From the place where I had broken through, steamand hot mud, or boiling water, rose into the air. 

Though my guide, who walked before me, carefully probed the ground withhis stick, he several times sank through half-way to the knee. These menare, however, so much accustomed to contingencies of this kind that theytake little account of them. My guide would quietly repair to the nextspring and cleanse his clothes from mud. As I was covered with it toabove the ankles, I thought it best to follow his example. 

For excursions like these it is best to come provided with a few boards, five or six feet in length, with which to cover the most dangerousplaces. 

At nine o'clock in the evening, but yet in the full glare of the sun, wearrived at Krisuvik. I now took time to look at this place, which Ifound to consist of a small church and a few miserable huts. 

I crept into one of these dens; it was so dark that a considerable timeelapsed before I could distinguish objects, the light was only admittedthrough a very small aperture. I found in this hut a few persons whowere suffering from the eruption called "lepra, " a disease but toocommonly met with in Iceland. Their hands and faces were completelycovered with this eruption; if it spreads over the whole body the patientlanguishes slowly away, and is lost without remedy. 

Churches are in this country not only used for purposes of publicworship, but also serve as magazines for provisions, clothes, &c. , and asinns for travellers. I do not suppose that a parallel instance ofdesecration could be met with even among the most uncivilised nations. Iwas assured, indeed, that these abuses were about to be remedied. Areform of this kind ought to have been carried out long ago; and even nowthe matter seems to remain an open point; for wherever I came the churchwas placed at my disposal for the night, and every where I found a storeof fish, tallow, and other equally odoriferous substances. 

The little chapel at Krisuvik is only twenty-two feet long by ten broad;on my arrival it was hastily prepared for my reception. Saddles, ropes, clothes, hats, and other articles which lay scattered about, were hastilyflung into a corner; mattresses and some nice soft pillows soon appeared, and a very tolerable bed was prepared for me on a large chest in whichthe vestments of the priest, the coverings of the altar, &c. , weredeposited. I would willingly have locked myself in, eaten my frugalsupper, and afterwards written a few pages of my diary before retiring torest; but this was out of the question. The entire population of thevillage turned out to see me, old and young hastened to the church, andstood round in a circle and gazed at me. 

Irksome as this curiosity was, I was obliged to endure it patiently, forI could not have sent these good people away without seriously offendingthem; so I began quietly to unpack my little portmanteau, and proceededto boil my coffee over a spirit-lamp. A whispering consultationimmediately began; they seemed particularly struck by my mode ofpreparing coffee, and followed every one of my movements with eager eyes. My frugal meal dispatched, I resolved to try the patience of my audience, and, taking out my journal, began to write. For a few minutes theyremained quiet, then they began to whisper one to another, "She writes, she writes, " and this was repeated numberless times. There was no signof any disposition to depart; I believe I could have sat there tilldoomsday, and failed to tire my audience out. At length, after thisscene had lasted a full hour, I could stand it no longer, and was fain torequest my amiable visitors to retire, as I wished to go to bed. 

My sleep that night was none of the sweetest. A certain feeling ofdiscomfort always attaches to the fact of sleeping in a church alone, inthe midst of a grave-yard. Besides this, on the night in question such adreadful storm arose that the wooden walls creaked and groaned as thoughtheir foundations were giving way. The cold was also rather severe, mythermometer inside the church shewing only two degrees above zero. I wastruly thankful when approaching day brought with it the welcome hour ofdeparture. 

 June 5th. 

The heavy sleepiness and extreme indolence of an Icelandic guide renderdeparture before seven o'clock in the morning a thing not to be thoughtof. This is, however, of little consequence, as there is no night inIceland at this time of year. 

Although the distance was materially increased by returning to Reikjavikby way of Grundivik and Keblevik, I chose this route in order to passthrough the wildest of the inhabited tracts in Iceland. 

The first stage, from Krisuvik to Grundivik, a distance of twelve tofourteen miles, lay through fields of lava, consisting mostly of smallblocks of stone and fragments, filling the valley so completely that nota single green spot remained. I here met with masses of lava whichpresented an appearance of singular beauty. They were black mounds, tenor twelve feet in height, piled upon each other in the most varied forms, their bases covered with a broad band of whitish-coloured moss, while thetops were broken into peaks and cones of the most fantastic shapes. These lava-streams seem to date from a recent period, as the masses aresomewhat scaly and glazed. 

Grundivik, a little village of a few wretched cottages, lies like anoasis in this desert of lava. 

My guide wished to remain here, asserting that there was no place betweenthis and Keblevik where I could pass the night, and that it would beimpossible for our horses, exhausted as they were with yesterday's march, to carry us to Keblevik that night. The true reason of this suggestionwas that he wished to prolong the journey for another day. 

Luckily I had a good map with me, and by dint of consulting it couldcalculate distances with tolerable accuracy; it was also my custom beforestarting on a journey to make particular inquiries as to how I shouldarrange the daily stages. 

So I insisted upon proceeding at once; and soon we were wending our waythrough fields of lava towards Stad, a small village six or seven milesdistant from Grundivik. 

On the way I noticed a mountain of most singular appearance. In colourit closely resembled iron; its sides were perfectly smooth and shining, and streaks of the colour of yellow ochre traversed it here and there. 

Stad is the residence of a priest. Contrary to the assertions of myguide, I found this place far more cheerful and habitable than Grundivik. Whilst our horses were resting, the priest paid me a visit, and conductedme, not, as I anticipated, into his house, but into the church. Chairsand stools were quickly brought there, and my host introduced his wifeand children to me, after which we partook of coffee, bread and cheese, &c. On the rail surrounding the altar hung the clothes of the priest andhis family, differing little in texture and make from those of thepeasants. 

The priest appeared to be a very intelligent, well-read man. I couldspeak the Danish language pretty fluently, and was therefore able toconverse with him on various subjects. On hearing that I had alreadybeen in Palestine, he put a number of questions to me, from which I couldplainly see that he was alike well acquainted with geography, history, natural science, &c. He accompanied me several miles on my road, and wechatted away the time very pleasantly. 

The distance between Krisuvik and Keblevik is about forty-two miles. Theroad lies through a most dreary landscape, among vast desert plains, frequently twenty-five to thirty miles in circumference, entirelydivested of all traces of vegetation, and covered throughout theirextreme area by masses of lava--gloomy monuments of volcanic agency. Andyet here, at the very heart of the subterranean fire, I saw only a singlemountain, the summit of which had fallen in, and presented the appearanceof a crater. The rest were all completely closed, terminating sometimesin a beautiful round top, and sometimes in sharp peaks; in otherinstances they formed long narrow chains. 

Who can tell whence these all-destroying masses of lava have pouredforth, or how many hundred years they have lain in these petrifiedvalleys?

Keblevik lies on the sea-coast; but the harbour is insecure, so thatships remain here at anchor only so long as is absolutely necessary;there are frequently only two or three ships in the harbour. 

A few wooden houses, two of which belong to Herr Knudson, and somepeasants' cottages, are the only buildings in this little village. I washospitably received, and rested from the toils of the day at the house ofHerr Siverson, Herr Knudson's manager. 

On the following day (June 6th) I had a long ride to Reikjavik, thirty-six good miles, mostly through fields of lava. 

The whole tract of country from Grundivik almost to Havenfiord is called"The lava-fields of Reikianes. "

Tired and almost benumbed with cold, I arrived in the evening atReikjavik, with no other wish than to retire to rest as fast as possible. 

In these three days I had ridden 114 miles, besides enduring much fromcold, storms, and rain. To my great surprise, the roads had generallybeen good; there were, however, many places highly dangerous anddifficult. 

But what mattered these fatigues, forgotten, as they were, after a singlenight's rest? what were they in comparison to the unutterably beautifuland marvellous phenomena of the north, which will remain ever present tomy imagination so long as memory shall be spared me?

The distances of this excursion were: From Reikjavik to Krisuvik, 37miles; from Krisuvik to Keblevik, 39 miles; from Keblevik to Reikjavik, 38 miles: total, 114 miles. 

CHAPTER V

As the weather continued fine, I wished to lose no time in continuing mywanderings. I had next to make a tour of some 560 miles; it wastherefore necessary that I should take an extra horse, partly that itmight carry my few packages, consisting of a pillow, some rye-bread, cheese, coffee, and sugar, but chiefly that I might be enabled to changehorses every day, as one horse would not have been equal to the fatigueof so long a journey. 

My former guide could not accompany me on my present journey, as he wasunacquainted with most of the roads. My kind protectors, Herr Knudsonand Herr Bernhoft, were obliging enough to provide another guide for me;a difficult task, as it is a rare occurrence to find an Icelander whounderstands the Danish language, and who happens to be sober when hisservices are required. At length a peasant was found who suited ourpurpose; but he considered two florins per diem too little pay, so I wasobliged to give an additional zwanziger. On the other hand, it wasarranged that the guide should also take two horses, in order that hemight change every day. 

The 16th of June was fixed for the commencement of our journey. From thevery first day my guide did not shew himself in an amiable point of view. On the morning of our departure his saddle had to be patched together, and instead of coming with two horses, he appeared with only one. Hecertainly promised to buy a second when we should have proceeded somemiles, adding that it would be cheaper to buy one at a little distancefrom the "capital. " I at once suspected this was merely an excuse of theguide's, and that he wished thereby to avoid having the care of fourhorses. The event proved I was right; not a single horse could be foundthat suited, and so my poor little animal had to carry the guide'sbaggage in addition to my own. 

Loading the pack-horses is a business of some difficulty, and isconducted in the following manner: sundry large pieces of dried turf arelaid upon the horse's back, but not fastened; over these is buckled around piece of wood, furnished with two or three pegs. To these pegs thechests and packages are suspended. If the weight is not quite equallybalanced, it is necessary to stop and repack frequently, for the wholeload at once gets askew. 

The trunks used in this country are massively constructed of wood, covered with a rough hide, and strengthened on all sides with nails, asthough they were intended to last an eternity. The poor horses have aconsiderable weight to bear in empty boxes alone, so that very littlereal luggage can be taken. The weight which a horse has to carry duringa long journey should never exceed 150lbs. 

It is impossible to remember how many times our baggage had to berepacked during a day's journey. The great pieces of turf would neverstay in their places, and every moment something was wrong. Nothing lessthan a miracle, however, can prevail on an Icelander to depart from hisregular routine. His ancestors packed in such and such a manner, and sohe must pack also. {35}

We had a journey of above forty miles before us the first day, and yet, on account of the damaged saddle, we could not start before eight o'clockin the morning. 

The first twelve or fourteen miles of our journey lay through the greatvalley in which Reikjavik is situated; the valley contains many lowhills, some of which we had to climb. Several rivers, chief among whichwas the Laxselv, opposed our progress, but at this season of the yearthey could be crossed on horseback without danger. Nearly all thevalleys through which we passed to-day were covered with lava, butnevertheless offered many beautiful spots. 

Many of the hills we passed seemed to me to be extinct volcanoes; thewhole upper portion was covered with colossal slabs of lava, as thoughthe crater had been choked up with them. Lava of the same descriptionand colour, but in smaller pieces, lay strewed around. 

For the first twelve or fourteen miles the sea is visible from the browof every successive hill. The country is also pretty generallyinhabited; but afterwards a distance of nearly thirty miles is passed, onwhich there is not a human habitation. The traveller journeys from onevalley into another, and in the midst of these hill-girt deserts sees asingle small hut, erected for the convenience of those who, in thewinter, cannot accomplish the long distance in one day, and must take uptheir quarters for the night in the valley. No one must, however, rashlyhope to find here a human being in the shape of a host. The little houseis quite uninhabited, and consists only of a single apartment with fournaked walls. The visitor must depend on the accommodation he carrieswith him. 

The plains through which we travelled to-day were covered throughout withone and the same kind of lava. It occurs in masses, and also in smallerstones, is not very porous, of a light grey colour, and mixed, in manyinstances, with sand or earth. 

Some miles from Thingvalla we entered a valley, the soil of which isfine, but nevertheless only sparingly covered with grass, and full oflittle acclivities, mostly clothed with delicate moss. I have no doubtthat the indolence of the inhabitants alone prevents them from materiallyimproving many a piece of ground. The worst soil is that in theneighbourhood of Reikjavik; yet there we see many a garden, and many apiece of meadow-land, wrung, as it were, from the barren earth by labourand pains. Why should not the same thing be done here--the more so asnature has already accomplished the preliminary work?

Thingvalla, our resting-place for to-night, is situate on a lake of thesame name, and only becomes visible when the traveller is close upon it. The lake is rather considerable, being almost three miles in length, andat some parts certainly more than two miles in breadth; it contains twosmall islands, --Sandey and Nesey. 

My whole attention was still riveted by the lake and its naked and gloomycircle of mountains, when suddenly, as if by magic, I found myselfstanding on the brink of a chasm, into which I could scarcely lookwithout a shudder; involuntarily I thought of Weber's _Freyschutz_ andthe "Wolf's Hollow. " {36}

The scene is the more startling from the circumstance that the travellerapproaching Thingvalla in a certain direction sees only the plains beyondthis chasm, and has no idea of its existence. It was a fissure some fiveor six fathoms broad, but several hundred feet in depth; and we wereforced to descend by a small, steep, dangerous path, across largefragments of lava. Colossal blocks of stone, threatening the unhappywanderer with death and destruction, hang loosely, in the form ofpyramids and of broken columns, from the lofty walls of lava, whichencircle the whole long ravine in the form of a gallery. Speechless, andin anxious suspense, we descend a part of this chasm, hardly daring tolook up, much less to give utterance to a single sound, lest thevibration should bring down one of these avalanches of stone, to theterrific force of which the rocky fragments scattered around bear ampletestimony. The distinctness with which echo repeats the softest soundand the lightest footfall is truly wonderful. 

The appearance presented by the horses, which are allowed to come downthe ravine after their masters have descended, is most peculiar. Onecould fancy they were clinging to the walls of rock. 

This ravine is known by the name of Almanagiau. Its entire length isabout a mile, but a small portion only can be traversed; the rest isblocked up by masses of lava heaped one upon the other. On the righthand, the rocky wall opens, and forms an outlet, over formidable massesof lava, into the beautiful valley of Thingvalla. I could have fancied Iwandered through the depths of a crater, which had piled around itselfthese stupendous barriers during a mighty eruption in times long gone by. 

The valley of Thingvalla is considered one of the most beautiful inIceland. It contains many meadows, forming, as it were, a place ofrefuge for the inhabitants, and enabling them to keep many head ofcattle. The Icelanders consider this little green valley the finest spotin the world. Not far from the opening of the ravine, on the fartherbank of the river Oxer, lies the little village of Thingvalla, consistingof three or four cottages and a small chapel. A few scattered farms andcottages are situated in the neighbourhood. 

Thingvalla was once one of the most important places in Iceland; thestranger is still shewn the meadow, not far from the village, on whichthe Allthing (general assembly) was held annually in the open air. Herethe people and their leaders met, pitching their tents after the mannerof nomads. Here it was also that many an opinion and many a decree wereenforced by the weight of steel. 

The chiefs appeared, ostensibly for peace, at the head of their tribe;yet many of them returned not again, but beneath the sword-stroke oftheir enemies obtained that peace which no man seeketh, but which all menfind. 

On one side the valley is skirted by the lake, on the other it is boundedby lofty mountains, some of them still partly covered with snow. Not farfrom the entrance of the ravine, the river Oxer rushes over a wall ofrock of considerable height, forming a beautiful waterfall. 

It was still fine clear daylight when I reached Thingvalla, and the skyrose pure and cloudless over the far distance. It seemed therefore themore singular to me to see a few clouds skimming over the surface of themountains, now shrouding a part of them in vapour, now wreathingthemselves round their summits, now vanishing entirely, to reappear againat a different point. 

This is a phenomenon frequently observed in Iceland during the finestdays, and one I had often noticed in the neighbourhood of Reikjavik. Under a clear and cloudless sky, a light mist would appear on the brow ofa mountain, --in a moment it would increase to a large cloud, and afterremaining stationary for a time, it frequently vanished suddenly, orsoared slowly away. However often it may be repeated, this appearancecannot fail to interest the observer. 

Herr Beck, the clergyman at Thingvalla, offered me the shelter of his hutfor the night; as the building, however, did not look much more promisingthan the peasants' cottages by which it was surrounded, I preferredquartering myself in the church, permission to do so being but too easilyobtained on all occasions. This chapel is not much larger than that atKrisuvik, and stands at some distance from the few surrounding cottages. This was perhaps the reason why I was not incommoded by visitors. I hadalready conquered any superstitious fears derived from the proximity ofmy silent neighbours in the churchyard, and passed the night quietly onone of the wooden chests of which I found several scattered about. Habitis certainly every thing; after a few nights of gloomy solitude onethinks no more about the matter. 

 June 17th. 

Our journey of to-day was more formidable than that of yesterday. I wasassured that Reikholt (also called Reikiadal) was almost fifty milesdistant. Distances cannot always be accurately measured by the map;impassable barriers, only to be avoided by circuitous routes, oftenoppose the traveller's progress. This was the case with us to-day. Tojudge from the map, the distance from Thingvalla to Reikholt seemed lessby a great deal than that from Reikjavik to Thingvalla, and yet we werefull fourteen hours accomplishing it--two hours longer than on ouryesterday's journey. 

So long as our way lay through the valley of Thingvalla there was no lackof variety. At one time there was an arm of the river Oxer to cross, atanother we traversed a cheerful meadow; sometimes we even passed throughlittle shrubberies, --that is to say, according to the Icelandicacceptation of the term. In my country these lovely shrubberies wouldhave been cleared away as useless underwood. The trees trail along theground, seldom attaining a height of more than two feet. When one ofthese puny stems reaches four feet in height, it is considered a gigantictree. The greater portion of these miniature forests grow on the lavawith which the valley is covered. 

The formation of the lava here assumes a new character. Up to this pointit has mostly appeared either in large masses or in streams lying instrata one above the other; but here the lava covered the greater portionof the ground in the form of immense flat slabs or blocks of rock, oftensplit in a vertical direction. I saw long fissures of eight or ten feetin breadth, and from ten to fifteen feet in depth. In these clefts theflowers blossom earlier, and the fern grows taller and more luxuriantly, than in the boisterous upper world. 

After the valley of Thingvalla has been passed the journey becomes verymonotonous. The district beyond is wholly uninhabited, and we travelledmany miles without seeing a single cottage. From one desert valley wepassed into another; all were alike covered with light-grey or yellowishlava, and at intervals also with fine sand, in which the horses sunkdeeply at every step. The mountains surrounding these valleys were noneof the highest, and it was seldom that a jokul or glacier shone forthfrom among them. The mountains had a certain polished appearance, theirsides being perfectly smooth and shining. In some instances, however, masses of lava formed beautiful groups, bearing a great resemblance toruins of ancient buildings, and standing out in peculiarly fine relieffrom the smooth walls. 

These mountains are of different colours; they are black or brown, greyor yellow, &c. ; and the different shades of these colours are displayedwith marvellous effect in the brilliant sunshine. 

Nine hours of uninterrupted riding brought us into a large tract ofmoorland, very scantily covered with moss. Yet this was the first andonly grazing-place to be met with in all the long distance fromThingvalla. We therefore made a halt of two hours, to let our poorhorses pick a scanty meal. Large swarms of minute gnats, which seemed tofly into our eyes, nose, and mouth, annoyed us dreadfully during our stayin this place. 

On this moor there was also a small lake; and here I saw for the firsttime a small flock of swans. Unfortunately these creatures are so verytimid, that the most cautious approach of a human being causes them torise with the speed of lightning into the air. I was therefore obligedperforce to be content with a distant view of these proud birds. Theyalways keep in pairs, and the largest flock I saw did not consist of morethan four such pairs. 

Since my first arrival in Iceland I had considered the inhabitants anindolent race of people; to-day I was strengthened in my opinion by thefollowing slight circumstance. The moorland on which we halted to restwas separated from the adjoining fields of lava by a narrow ditch filledwith water. Across this ditch a few stones and slabs had been laid, toform a kind of bridge. Now this bridge was so full of holes that thehorses could not tell where to plant their feet, and refused obstinatelyto cross it, so that in the end we were obliged to dismount and lead themacross. We had scarcely passed this place, and sat down to rest, when acaravan of fifteen horses, laden with planks, dried fish, &c. Arrived atthe bridge. Of course the poor creatures observed the dangerous ground, and could only be driven by hard blows to advance. Hardly twenty pacesoff there were stones in abundance; but rather than devote a few minutesto filling up the holes, these lazy people beat their horses cruelly, andexposed them to the risk of breaking their legs. I pitied the pooranimals, which would be compelled to recross the bridge, so heartily, that, after they are gone, I devoted a part of my resting-time tocollecting stones and filling up the holes, --a business which scarcelyoccupied me a quarter of an hour. 

It is interesting to notice how the horses know by instinct the dangerousspots in the stony wastes, and in the moors and swamps. On approachingthese places they bend their heads towards the earth, and look sharplyround on all sides. If they cannot discover a firm resting-place for thefeet, they stop at once, and cannot be urged forward without many blows. 

After a halt of two hours we continued our journey, which again led usacross fields of lava. At past nine o'clock in the evening we reached anelevated plain, after traversing which for half an hour we saw stretchedat our feet the valley of Reikholt or Reikiadal; it is fourteen toseventeen miles long, of a good breadth, and girt round by a row ofmountains, among which several jokuls sparkle in their icy garments. 

A sunset seen in the sublime wildness of Icelandic scenery has apeculiarly beautiful effect. Over these vast plains, divested of treesor shrubs, covered with dark lava, and shut in by mountains almost of asable hue, the parting sun sheds an almost magical radiance. The peaksof the mountains shine in the bright parting rays, the jokuls areshrouded in the most delicate roseate hue, while the lower parts of themountains lie in deep shadow, and frown darkly on the valleys, whichresemble a sheet of dark blue water, with an atmosphere of a bluish-redcolour floating above it. The most impressive feature of all is theprofound silence and solitude; not a sound can be heard, not a livingcreature is to be seen; every thing appears dead. Throughout the broadvalleys not a town nor a village, no, not even a solitary house or a treeor shrub, varies the prospect. The eye wanders over the vast desert, andfinds not one familiar object on which it can rest. 

To-night, as at past eleven o'clock we reached the elevated plain, I sawa sunset which I shall never forget. The sun disappeared behind themountains, and in its stead a gorgeous ruddy gleam lighted up hill andvalley and glacier. It was long ere I could turn away my eyes from theglittering heights, and yet the valley also offered much that wasstriking and beautiful. 

Throughout almost its entire length this valley formed a meadow, from theextremities of which columns of smoke and boiling springs burst forth. The mists had almost evaporated, and the atmosphere was bright and clear, more transparent even than I had seen it in any other country. I now forthe first time noticed, that in the valley itself the radiance was almostas clear as the light of day, so that the most minute objects could beplainly distinguished. This was, however, extremely necessary, for steepand dangerous paths lead over masses of lava into the valley. On oneside ran a little river, forming many picturesque waterfalls, some ofthem above thirty feet in height. 

I strained my eyes in vain to discover any where, in this great valley, alittle church, which, if it only offered me a hard bench for a couch, would at any rate afford me a shelter from the sharp night-wind; for itis really no joke to ride for fifteen hours, with nothing to eat butbread and cheese, and then not even to have the pleasant prospect of ahotel _a la villa de Londres_ or _de Paris_. Alas, my wishes were farmore modest. I expected no porter at the gate to give the signal of myarrival, no waiter, and no chambermaid; I only desired a little spot inthe neighbourhood of the dear departed Icelanders. I was suddenlyrecalled from these happy delusions by the voice of the guide, who criedout: "Here we are at our destination for to-night. " I looked joyfullyround; alas! I could only see a few of those cottages which are neverobserved until you almost hit your nose against one of them, as thegrass-covered walls can hardly be distinguished from the surroundingmeadow. 

It was already midnight. We stopped, and turned our horses loose, toseek supper and rest in the nearest meadow. Our lot was a less fortunateone. The inhabitants were already buried in deep slumbers, from whicheven the barking set up by the dogs at our approach failed to arousethem. A cup of coffee would certainly have been very acceptable to me;yet I was loath to rouse any one merely for this. A piece of breadsatisfied my hunger, and a draught of water from the nearest springtasted most deliciously with it. After concluding my frugal meal, Isought out a corner beside a cottage, where I was partially shelteredfrom the too-familiar wind; and wrapping my cloak around me, lay down onthe ground, having wished myself, with all my heart, a good night's restand pleasant dreams, in the broad daylight, {37} under the canopy ofheaven. Just dropping off to sleep, I was surprised by a mild rain, which, of course, at once put to flight every idea of repose. Thus, after all, I was obliged to wake some one up, to obtain the shelter of aroof. 

The best room, _i. E. _ the store-room, was thrown open for myaccommodation, and a small wooden bedstead placed at my disposal. Chambers of this kind are luckily found wherever two or three cottageslie contiguous to each other; they are certainly far from inviting, asdried fish, train-oil, tallow, and many other articles of the samedescription combine to produce a most unsavoury atmosphere. Yet they areinfinitely preferable to the dwellings of the peasants, which, by the by, are the most filthy dens that can be imagined. Besides being redolent ofevery description of bad odour, these cottages are infested with verminto a degree which can certainly not be surpassed, except in the dwellingsof the Greenlanders and Laplanders. 

 June 18th. 

Yesterday we had been forced to put upon our poor horses a wearisomedistance of more than fifty miles, as the last forty miles led us throughdesert and uninhabited places, boasting not even a single cottage. To-day, however, our steeds had a light duty to perform, for we onlyproceeded seven miles to the little village of Reikiadal, where I haltedto-day, in order to visit the celebrated springs. 

The inconsiderable village called Reikiadal, consisting only of a churchand a few cottages, is situated amidst pleasant meadows. Altogether thisvalley is rich in beautiful meadow-lands; consequently one sees manyscattered homesteads and cottages, with fine herds of sheep, and atolerable number of horses; cows are less plentiful. 

The church at Reikiadal is among the neatest and most roomy of thosewhich came under my observation. The dwelling of the priest too, thoughonly a turf-covered cottage, is large enough for the comfort of theoccupants. This parish extends over a considerable area, and is notthinly inhabited. 

My first care on my arrival was to beg the clergyman, Herr Jonas Jonason, to procure for me, as expeditiously as possible, fresh horses and aguide, in order that I might visit the springs. He promised to provideme with both within half an hour; and yet it was not until three hourshad been wasted, that, with infinite pains, I saw my wish fulfilled. Throughout my stay in Iceland, nothing annoyed me more than the slownessand unconcern displayed by the inhabitants in all their undertakings. Every wish and every request occupies a long time in its fulfilment. HadI not been continually at the good pastor's side, I believe I shouldscarcely have attained my object. At length every thing was ready, andthe pastor himself was kind enough to be my guide. 

We rode about four miles through this beautiful vale, and in this shortdistance were compelled at least six times to cross the river Sidumule, which rolls its most tortuous course through the entire valley. Atlength the first spring was reached; it emerges from a rock about sixfeet in height, standing in the midst of a moor. The upper cavity of thenatural reservoir, in which the water continually boils and seethes, isbetween two and three feet in diameter. This spring never stops; the jetof water rises two, and sometimes even four feet high, and is abouteighteen inches thick. It is possible to increase the volume of the jetfor a few seconds, by throwing large stones or lumps of earth into theopening, and thus stirring up the spring. The stones are cast forciblyforth, and the lumps of earth, dissolved by the action of the water, impart to the latter a dingy colour. 

Whoever has seen the jet of water at Carlsbad, in Bohemia, can wellimagine the appearance of this spring, which closely resembles that ofCarlsbad. {38}

In the immediate neighbourhood of the spring is an abyss, in which wateris continually seething, but never rises into the air. At a littledistance, on a high rock, rising out of the river Sidumule, not far fromthe shore, are other springs. They are three in number, each at a shortdistance from the next, and occupy nearly the entire upper surface of therock. Lower down we find a reservoir of boiling water; and at the footof the rock, and on the nearest shore, are many more hot springs; butmost of these are inconsiderable. Many of these hot springs emergealmost from the cold river itself. 

The chief group, however, lies still farther off, on a rock which may beabout twenty feet in height, and fifty in length. It is called TungaHuer, and rises from the midst of a moor. On this rock there are no lessthan sixteen springs, some emerging from its base, others rather abovethe middle, but none from the top of the rock. 

The construction of the basins and the height and diameter of the jetswere precisely similar to those I have already described. All thesesixteen springs are so near each other that they do not even occupy twosides of the rock. It is impossible to form an idea of the magnificenceof this singular spectacle, which becomes really fairy-like, if thebeholder have the courage to climb the rock itself, a proceeding of somedanger, though of little difficulty. The upper stratum of the rock issoft and warm, presenting almost the appearance of mud thickened withsand and small stones. Every footstep leaves a trace behind it, and thevisitor has continually before his eyes the fear of breaking through, andfalling into a hot spring hidden from view by a thin covering. The goodpastor walked in advance of me, with a stick, and probed the dangeroussurface as much as possible. I was loath to stay behind, and suddenly wefound ourselves at the summit of the rock. Here we could take in, at oneview, the sixteen springs gushing from both its sides. If the view frombelow had been most interesting and singular, how shall I describe itsappearance as seen from above? Sixteen jets of water seen at one glance, sixteen reservoirs, in all their diversity of form and construction, opening at once beneath the feet of the beholder, seemed almost toowonderful a sight. Forgetting all pusillanimous feelings, I stood andhonoured the Creator in these his marvellous works. For a long time Istood, and could not tire of gazing into the abysses from whose darknessthe masses of white and foaming water sprung hissing into the air, tofall again, and hasten in quiet union towards the neighbouring river. The good pastor found it necessary to remind me several times that ourposition here was neither of the safest nor of the most comfortable, andthat it was therefore high time to abandon it. I had ceased to think ofthe insecurity of the ground we trod, and scarcely noticed the mightyclouds of hot vapour which frequently surrounded and threatened tosuffocate us, obliging us to step suddenly back with wetted faces. Itwas fortunate that these waters contain but a very small quantity ofbrimstone, otherwise we could scarcely have long maintained our elevatedposition. 

The rock from which these springs rise is formed of a reddish mass, andthe bed of the river into which the water flows is also completelycovered with little stones of the same colour. 

On our way back we noticed, near a cottage, another remarkablephenomenon. It was a basin, in whose depths the water boils and bubblesviolently; and near this basin are two unsightly holes, from whichcolumns of smoke periodically rise with a great noise. Whilst this isgoing on, the basin fills itself more and more with water, but never somuch as to overflow, or to force a jet of water into the air; then thesteam and the noise cease in both cavities, and the water in thereservoir sinks several feet. 

This strange phenomenon generally lasts about a minute, and is repeatedso regularly, that a bet could almost be made, that the rising andfalling of the water, and the increased and lessened noise of the steam, shall be seen and heard sixty or sixty-five times within an hour. 

In communication with this basin is another, situate at a distance ofabout a hundred paces in a small hollow, and filled like the former withboiling water. As the water in the upper basin gradually sinks, andceases to seethe, it begins to rise in the lower one, and is at lengthforced two or three feet into the air; then it falls again, and thus thephenomenon is continually repeated in the upper and the lower basinalternately. 

At the upper spring there is also a vapour-bath. This is formed by asmall chamber situate hard by the basin, built of stones and roofed withturf. It is further provided with a small and narrow entrance, whichcannot be passed in an upright position. The floor is composed of stoneslabs, probably covering a hot spring, for they are very warm. Theperson wishing to use this bath betakes himself to this room, andcarefully closes every cranny; a suffocating heat, which induces violentperspiration over the whole frame, is thus generated. The people, however, seldom avail themselves of this bath. 

On my return I had still to visit a basin with a jet of water, in a finemeadow near the church; a low wall of stone has been erected round thisspring to prevent the cattle from scalding themselves if they shouldapproach too near in the ardour of grazing. Some eighty paces off is tobe seen the wool-bath erected by Snorri Sturluson. It consists of astone basin three or four feet in depth, and eighteen or twenty indiameter. The approach is by a few steps leading to a low stone bench, which runs round the basin. The water is obtained from the neighbouringspring, but is of so high a temperature that it is impossible to bathewithout previously cooling it. The bath stands in the open air, and notraces are left of the building which once covered it. It is now usedfor clothes and sheep's wool. 

I had now seen all the interesting springs on this side of the valley. Some columns of vapour, which may be observed from the opposite end ofthe valley, proceed from thermal springs, that offer no remarkablefeature save their heat. 

On our return the priest took me to the churchyard, which lay at somedistance from his dwelling, and showed me the principal graves. Though Ithought the sight very impressive, it was not calculated to invigorateme, when I considered that I must pass the approaching night alone in thechurch, amidst these resting-places of the departed. 

The mound above each grave is very high, and the greater part of them aresurmounted by a kind of wooden coffin, which at first sight conveys theimpression that the dead person is above ground. I could not shake off afeeling of discomfort; and such is the power of prejudice, that--Iacknowledge my weakness--I was even induced to beg that the priest wouldremove one of the covers. Though I knew full well that the dead man wasslumbering deep in the earth, and not in this coffin, I felt a shudderpass over me as the lid was removed, and I saw--as the priest had assuredme I should do--merely a tombstone with the usual inscription, which thiscoffin-like covering is intended to protect against the rude storms ofthe winter. 

Close beside the entrance to the church is the mound beneath which restthe bones of Snorri Sturluson, the celebrated poet; {39} over this gravestands a small runic stone of the length of the mound itself. This stoneis said to have once been completely covered with runic characters; butall trace of these has been swept away by the storms of five hundredwinters, against which the tomb had no protecting coffin. The stone, too, is split throughout its entire length into two pieces. The moundabove the grave is often renewed, so that the beholder could often fancyhe saw a new-made grave. I picked all the buttercups I could findgrowing on the grave, and preserved them carefully in a book. Perhaps Imay be able to give pleasure to several of my countrywomen by offeringthem a floweret from the grave of the greatest of Icelandic poets. 

 June 19th. 

In order to pursue my journey without interruption, I hired fresh horses, and allowed my own, which were rather fatigued, to accompany us unloaded. My object in this further excursion was to visit the very remarkablecavern of Surthellir, distant a good thirty-three miles from this place. The clergyman was again kind enough to make the necessary arrangementsfor me, and even to act as my Mentor on the journey. 

Though we were only three strong, we departed with a retinue of sevenhorses, and for nearly ten miles rode back the same way by which I hadcome from Reikholt on the preceding morning; then we turned off to theleft, and crossing hills and acclivities, reached other valleys, whichwere partly traversed by beautiful streams of lava, and partlyinterspersed with forests--_forests_, as I have already said, accordingto Icelandic notions. The separate stems were certainly slightly higherthan those in the valley of Thingvalla. 

At Kalmannstunga we left the spare horses, and took with us a man toserve as guide in the cavern, from which we were now still some sevenmiles distant. The great valley in which this cavern lies is reckonedamong the most remarkable in Iceland. It is a most perfect picture ofvolcanic devastation. The most beautiful masses of lava, in the mostvaried and picturesque forms, occupy the whole immeasurable valley. Lavais to be seen there in a rough glassy state, forming exquisite flames andarabesques; and in immense slabs, lying sometimes scattered, sometimespiled in strata one above the other, as though they had been cast thereby a flood. Among these, again, lie mighty isolated streams, which musthave been frozen in the midst of their course. From the differentcolours of the lava, and their transitions from light grey to black, wecan judge of the eruptions which have taken place at different periods. The mountains surrounding this valley are mostly of a sombre hue; someare even black, forming a striking contrast to the neighbouring jokuls, which, in their large expanse, present the appearance almost of a sea ofice. I found one of these jokuls of a remarkable size; its shiningexpanse extended far down into the valley, and its upper surface wasalmost immeasurable. 

The other mountains were all smooth, as though polished by art; in theforeground I only noticed one which was covered with wonderful forms ofdried lava. A deathlike silence weighed on the whole country round, onhill and on valley alike. Every thing seemed dead, all round was barrenand desert, so that the effect was truly Icelandic. The greater portionof Iceland might be with justice designated the "Northern Desert. "

The cavern of Surthellir lies on a slightly elevated extended plain, where it would certainly not be sought for, as we are accustomed to seenatural phenomena of this description only in the bowels of rocks. Itis, therefore, with no little surprise that the traveller sees suddenlyopening before him a large round basin about fifteen fathoms in diameter, and four in depth. It was with a feeling of awe that I looked downwardson the countless blocks of rock piled one upon the other, extending onone side to the edge of the hollow, across which the road led to the darkravines farther on. 

We were compelled to scramble forward on our hands and knees, until wereached a long broad passage, which led us at first imperceptiblydownwards, and then ran underneath the plain, which formed a rocky cavernabove our heads. I estimated the different heights of this roof at notless than from eighteen to sixty feet; but it seldom reached a greaterelevation than the latter. Both roof and walls are in some places verypointed and rough: a circumstance to be ascribed to the stalactites whichadhere to them, without, however, forming figures or long sharp points. 

From this principal path several smaller ones lead far into the interiorof this stony region; but they do not communicate with each other, andone is compelled to return from each side-path into the main road. Someof these by-paths are short, narrow, and low; others, on the contrary, are long, broad, and lofty. 

In one of the most retired of these by-paths I was shewn a great numberof bones, which, I was told, were those of slaughtered sheep and otheranimals. I could gather, from the account given by the priest of thelegend concerning them, that, in days of yore, this cave was the resortof a mighty band of robbers. This must have been a long, long time ago, as this is related as a legend or a fable. 

For my part, I could not tell what robbers had to do in Iceland. Pirateshad often come to the island; but for these gentry this cavern was toofar from the sea. I cannot even imagine beasts of prey to have beenthere; for the whole country round about is desert and uninhabited, sothat they could have found nothing to prey upon. In fact, I turned overin my mind every probability, and can only say that it appeared to me amost remarkable circumstance to find in this desert place, so far fromany living thing, a number of bones, which, moreover, looked as fresh asif the poor animals to whom they once belonged had been eaten but a shorttime ago. Unfortunately I could obtain no satisfactory information onthis point. 

It is difficult to imagine any thing more laborious than to wander aboutin this cavern. As the road had shewed itself at the entrance of thecavern, so it continued throughout its whole extent. The path consistedentirely of loose fragments of lava heaped one upon the other, over whichwe had to clamber with great labour. None of us could afford to help theothers; each one was fully occupied with himself. There was not a singlespot to be seen on which we could have stood without holding fast at thesame time with our hands. We were sometimes obliged to seat ourselves ona stone, and so to slide down; at others, to take hands and pull oneanother to the top of high blocks of stone. 

We came to several immense basins, or craters, which opened above ourheads, but were inaccessible, the sides being too steep for us to climb. The light which entered through these openings was scarcely enough toillumine the principal path, much less the numerous by-paths. 

At Kalmannstunga I had endeavoured to procure torches, but was obliged toconsider myself fortunate in getting a few tapers. It is necessary toprovide oneself with torches at Reikjavik. 

The parts of the cavern beneath the open craters were still covered witha considerable quantity of snow, by which our progress was rendered verydangerous. We frequently sunk in, and at other times caught our feetbetween the stones, so that we could scarcely maintain our balance. Inthe by-paths situated near these openings an icy rind had formed itself, which was now covered with water. Farther on, the ice had melted; but itwas generally very dirty, as a stratum of sand mixed with water lay therein place of the stones. The chief path alone was covered with blocks oflava; in the smaller paths I found only strata of sand and small piecesof lava. 

The magical illumination produced by the sun's rays shining through oneof these craters into the cavern produced a splendid effect. The sunshone perpendicularly through the opening, spread a dazzling radianceover the snow, and diffused a pale delicate light around us. The effectof this point of dazzling light was the more remarkable from itscontrasting strongly with the two dark chasms, from the first of which wehad emerged to continue our journey through the obscurity of the second. 

This subterranean labyrinth is said to extend in different directions formany miles. We explored a portion of the chief path and severalby-paths, and after a march of two hours returned heartily tired to theupper world. We then rested a quarter of an hour, and afterwardsreturned at a good round pace to Kalmannstunga. 

Unfortunately I do not possess sufficient geognostic knowledge to be ableto set this cavern down as an extinct volcano. But in travelling in acountry where every hill and mountain, every thing around, in fact, consists of lava, even the uninitiated in science seeks to discover theopenings whence these immense masses have poured. The stranger curiouslyregards the top of each mountain, thinking every where to behold acrater, but both hill and dale appear smooth and closed. With what joythen does he hail the thought of having discovered, in this cavern, something to throw light upon the sources of these things! I, at least, fancied myself walking on the hearth of an extinct volcano; for all Isaw, from the masses of stone piled beneath my feet and the immense basinabove my head, were both of lava. If I am right in my conjecture, I donot know; I only speak according to my notions and my views. 

I was obliged to pass this night in a cottage. Kalmannstunga containsthree such cottages, but no chapel. Luckily I found one of these housessomewhat larger and more cleanly than its neighbours; it could almostcome under the denomination of a farm. The occupants, too, had beenemployed during my ride to the cavern in cleansing the best chamber, andpreparing it, as far as possible, for my reception. The room in questionwas eleven feet long by seven broad; the window was so small and socovered with dirt that, although the sun was shining in its full glory, Icould scarcely see to write. The walls, and even the floor, wereboarded--a great piece of luxury in a country where wood is so scarce. The furniture consisted of a broad bedstead, two chests of drawers, and asmall table. Chairs and benches are a kind of _terra incognita_ in thedwellings of the Icelandic peasantry; besides, I do not know where sucharticles could be stowed in a room of such dimensions as that which Ioccupied. 

My hostess, the widow of a wealthy peasant, introduced to me her fourchildren, who were very handsome, and very neatly dressed. I begged thegood mother to tell me the names of the young ones, so that I might atleast know a few Icelandic names. She appeared much flattered at myrequest, and gave me the names as follows: Sigrudur, Gudrun, Ingebor, andLars. 

I should have felt tolerably comfortable in my present quarters, accustomed as I am to bear privations of all kinds with indifference, ifthey would but have left me in peace. But the reader may fancy my horrorwhen the whole population, not only of the cottage itself, but also ofthe neighbouring dwellings, made their appearance, and, plantingthemselves partly in my chamber and partly at the door, held me in a farcloser state of siege than even at Krisuvik. I was, it appeared, quite anovel phenomenon in the eyes of these good people, and so they came oneand all and stared at me; the women and children were, in particular, most unpleasantly familiar; they felt my dress, and the little ones laidtheir dirty little countenances in my lap. Added to this, the confinedatmosphere from the number of persons present, their lamentable want ofcleanliness, and their filthy habit of spitting, &c. , all combined toform a most dreadful whole. During these visits I did more penance thanby the longest fasts; and fasting, too, was an exercise I seldom escaped, as I could touch few Icelandic dishes. The cookery of the Icelandicpeasants is wholly confined to the preparation of dried fish, with whichthey eat fermented milk that has often been kept for months; on very rareoccasions they have a preparation of barley-meal, which is eaten withflat bread baked from Icelandic moss ground fine. 

I could not but wonder at the fact that most of these people expected tofind me acquainted with a number of things generally studied only by men;they seemed to have a notion that in foreign parts women should be aslearned as men. So, for instance, the priests always inquired if I spokeLatin, and seemed much surprised on finding that I was unacquainted withthe language. The common people requested my advice as to the mode oftreating divers complaints; and once, in the course of one of my solitarywanderings about Reikjavik, on my entering a cottage, they brought beforeme a being whom I should scarcely have recognised as belonging to thesame species as myself, so fearfully was he disfigured by the eruptioncalled "lepra. " Not only the face, but the whole body also was coveredwith it; the patient was quite emaciated, and some parts of his body werecovered with sores. For a surgeon this might have been an interestingsight, but I turned away in disgust. 

But let us turn from this picture. I would rather tell of the angel'sface I saw in Kalmannstunga. It was a girl, ten or twelve years of age, beautiful and lovely beyond description, so that I wished I had been apainter. How gladly would I have taken home with me to my own land, ifonly on canvass, the delicate face, with its roguish dimples and speakingeyes! But perhaps it is better as it is; the picture might by someunlucky chance have fallen into the hands of some too-susceptible youth, who, like Don Sylvio de Rosalva, in Wieland's _Comical Romance_, wouldimmediately have proceeded to travel through half the world to find theoriginal of this enchanting portrait. His spirit of inquiry wouldscarcely have carried him to Iceland, as such an apparition would neverbe suspected to exist in such a country, and thus the unhappy youth wouldbe doomed to endless wandering. 

 June 20th. 

The distance from Kalmannstunga to Thingvalla is fifty-two miles, and thejourney is certainly one of the most dreary and fatiguing of all that canbe made in Iceland. The traveller passes from one desert valley intoanother; he is always surrounded by high mountains and still higherglaciers, and wherever he turns his eyes, nature seems torpid and dead. A feeling of anxious discomfort seizes upon the wanderer, he hastens withredoubled speed through the far-stretched deserts, and eagerly ascendsthe mountains piled up before him, in the hope that better things liebeyond. It is in vain; he only sees the same solitudes, the samedeserts, the same mountains. 

On the elevated plateaux several places were still covered with snow;these we were obliged to cross, though we could frequently hear therushing of the water beneath its snowy covering. We were compelled alsoto pass over coatings of ice spread lightly over rivers, and presentingthat blue colour which is a certain sign of danger. 

Our poor horses were sometimes very restive; but it was of no use; theywere beaten without mercy until they carried us over the dangerousplaces. The pack-horse was always driven on in front with many blows; ithad to serve as pioneer, and try if the road was practicable. Next camemy guide, and I brought up the rear. Our poor horses frequently sank upto their knees in the snow, and twice up to the saddle-girths. This wasone of the most dangerous rides I have ever had. I could not helpcontinually thinking what I should do if my guide were to sink in sodeeply that he could not extricate himself; my strength would not havebeen sufficient to rescue him, and whither should I turn to seek forhelp? All around us was nothing but a desert and snow. Perhaps my lotmight have been to die of hunger. I should have wandered about seekingdwellings and human beings, and have entangled myself so completely amongthese wastes that I could never have found my way. 

When at a distance I descried a new field of snow (and unfortunately wecame upon them but too frequently), I felt very uncomfortable; thosealone who have themselves been in a similar situation can estimate thewhole extent of my anxiety. 

If I had been travelling in company with others, these fears would nothave disturbed me; for there reciprocal assistance can be rendered, andthe consciousness of this fact seems materially to diminish the danger. 

During the season in which the snow ceases to form a secure covering, this road is but little travelled. We saw nowhere a trace of footsteps, either of men or animals; we were the only living beings in this dreadfulregion. I certainly scolded my guide roundly for bringing me by such aroad. But what did I gain by this? It would have been as dangerous toturn back as to go on. 

A change in the weather, which till now had been rather favourable, increased the difficulties of this journey. Already when we leftKalmannstunga, the sky began to be overcast, and the sun enlivened uswith its rays only for a few minutes at a time. On our reaching thehigher mountains the weather became worse; for here we encountered cloudsand fog, which wreaked their vengeance upon us, and which only careeredby to make room for others. An icy storm from the neighbouring glacierswas their constant companion, and made me shiver so much that I couldscarcely keep my saddle. We had now ridden above thirteen hours. Therain poured down incessantly, and we were half dead with cold and wet; soI at length determined to halt for the night at the first cottage: atlast we found one between two or three miles from Thingvalla. I had nowa roof above my head; but beyond this I had gained nothing. The cottageconsisted of a single room, and was almost completely filled by fourbroad bedsteads. I counted seven adults and three children, who had allto be accommodated in these four beds. In addition to this, the kvef, akind of croup, prevailed this spring to such an extent that scarcely anyone escaped it. Wherever I went, I found the people afflicted with thiscomplaint; and here this was also the case; the noise of groaning andcoughing on all sides was quite deplorable. The floor, moreover, wasrevoltingly dirty. 

The good people were so kind as immediately to place one of their beds atmy disposal; but I would rather have passed the night on the threshold ofthe door than in this disgusting hole. I chose for my lodging-place thenarrow passage which separated the kitchen from the room; I found there acouple of blocks, across which a few boards had been laid, and thisconstituted the milk-room: it might have been more properly called thesmoke-room; for in the roof were a few air-holes, through which the smokeescaped. In this smoke or milk-room--whichever it may be called--Iprepared to pass the night as best I could. My cloak being wet through, I had been compelled to hang it on a stick to dry; and thus found myselfunder the necessity of borrowing a mattress from these unhealthy people. I laid myself down boldly, and pretended sleepiness, in order to delivermyself from the curiosity of my entertainers. They retired to theirroom, and so I was alone and undisturbed. But yet I could not sleep; thecold wind, blowing in upon me through the air-holes, chilled and wettedas I already was, kept me awake against my will. I had also anothermisfortune to endure. As often as I attempted to sit upright on myluxurious couch, my head would receive a severe concussion. I hadforgotten the poles which are fixed across each of these antechambers, for the purpose of hanging up fish to dry, &c. Unfortunately I could notbear this arrangement in mind until after I had received half a dozensalutations of this description. 

 June 21st. 

At length the morning so long sighed for came; the rain had indeedceased; but the clouds still hung about the mountains, and promised aspeedy fall; I nevertheless resolved rather to submit myself to the furyof the elements than to remain longer in my present quarters, and soordered the horses to be saddled. 

Before my departure roast lamb and butter were offered me. I thanked myentertainers; but refrained from tasting any thing, excusing myself onthe plea of not feeling hungry, which was in reality the case; for if Ionly looked at the dirty people who surrounded me, my appetite vanishedinstantly. So long as my stock of bread and cheese lasted, I kept to it, and ate nothing else. 

Taking leave of my good hosts, we continued our journey to Reikjavik, bythe same road on which I had travelled on my journey hither. This hadnot been my original plan on starting from Reikjavik; I had intended toproceed from Thingvalla directly to the Geyser, to Hecla, &c. ; but thehorses were already exhausted, and the weather so dreadfully bad, withoutprospect of speedy amendment, that I preferred returning to Reikjavik, and waiting for better times in my pleasant little room at the house ofthe good baker. 

We rode on as well as we could amidst ceaseless storms of wind and rain. The most disagreeable circumstance of all was our being obliged to spendthe hours devoted to rest in the open air, under a by no means cloudlesssky, as during our whole day's journey we saw not a single hut, save thesolitary one in the lava desert, which serves as a resting-place fortravellers during the winter. So we continued our journey until wereached a scanty meadow. Here I had my choice either to walk about fortwo hours, or to sit down upon the wet grass. I could find nothingbetter to do than to turn my back upon the wind and rain, to remainstanding on one spot, to have patience, and for amusement to observe thedirection in which the clouds scudded by. At the same time I discussedmy frugal meal, more for want of something to do than from hunger; if Ifelt thirsty, I had only to turn round and open my mouth. 

If there are natures peculiarly fitted for travelling, I am fortunate inbeing blessed with such an one. No rain or wind was powerful enough togive me even a cold. During this whole excursion I had tasted no warm ornourishing food; I had slept every night upon a bench or a chest; hadridden nearly 255 miles in six days; and had besides scrambled aboutbravely in the cavern of Surthellir; and, in spite of all this privationand fatigue, I arrived at Reikjavik in good health and spirits. 

Short summary of this journey:

 MilesFirst day, from Reikjavik to 46ThingvallaSecond day, from Thingvalla to 51ReikholtThird day, from Reikholt to the 19different springs, and back againFourth day, from Reikholt to 40Surthellir, and back toKalmannstungaFifth day, from Kalmannstunga to 51ThingvallaSixth day, from Thingvalla to 46ReikjavikTotal 253

CHAPTER VI

The weather soon cleared up, and I continued my journey to the Geyser andto Mount Hecla on the 24th June. On the first day, when we rode toThingvalla, we passed no new scenery, but saw instead an extremelybeautiful atmospheric phenomenon. 

 [Picture: The Geysers]

As we approached the lake, some thin mist-clouds lowered over it and overthe earth, so that it seemed as if it would rain. One portion of thefirmament glowed with the brightest blue; while the other part wasobscured by thick clouds, through which the sun was just breaking. Someof its rays reached the clouds of mist, and illuminated them in awonderfully beautiful manner. The most delicate shades of colour seemedbreathed, as it were, over them like a dissolving rainbow, whose glowingcolours were intermingled and yet singly perceptible. This play ofcolours continued for half an hour, then faded gradually till it vanishedentirely, and the ordinary atmosphere took its place. It was one of themost beautiful appearances I had ever witnessed. 

 June 25th. 

The roads separate about a mile behind the little town of Thingvalla; theone to the left goes to Reikholt, the right-hand one leads to the Geyser. We rode for some time along the shores of the lake, and found at the endof the valley an awful chasm in the rock, similar to the one ofAlmanagiau, which we had passed on such a wretched road. 

The contiguous valley bore a great resemblance to that of Thingvalla; butthe third one was again fearful. Lava covered it, and was quiteovergrown with that whitish moss, which has a beautiful appearance whenit only covers a portion of the lava, and when black masses rise aboveit, but which here presented a most monotonous aspect. 

We also passed two grottoes which opened at our feet. At the entrance ofone stood a pillar of rock supporting an immense slab of lava, whichformed an awe-inspiring portal. I had unfortunately not known of theexistence of these caves, and was consequently unprepared to visit them. Torches, at least, would have been requisite. But I subsequently heardthat they were not at all deep, and contained nothing of interest. 

In the course of the day we passed through valleys such as I had seennowhere else in Iceland. Beautiful meadow-lawns, perfectly level, covered the country for miles. These rich valleys were, of course, tolerably well populated; we frequently passed three or four contiguouscottages, and saw horses, cows, and sheep grazing on these fields inconsiderable numbers. 

The mountains which bounded these valleys on the left seemed to me veryremarkable; they were partly brown, black, or dark blue, like the others;but the bulk of which they were composed I considered to be fineloam-soil layers, if I may trust my imperfect mineralogical knowledge. Some of these mountains were topped by large isolated lava rocks, realgiants; and it seemed inexplicable to me how they could stand on the softsoil beneath. 

In one of these valleys we passed a considerable lake, on and aroundwhich rose circling clouds of steam proceeding from hot springs, but ofno great size. But after we had already travelled about twenty-fivemiles, we came to the most remarkable object I had ever met with; thiswas a river with a most peculiar bed. 

This river-bed is broad and somewhat steep; it consists of lava strata, and is divided lengthwise in the middle by a cleft eighteen to twentyfeet deep, and fifteen to eighteen feet broad, towards which the bubblingand surging waters rush, so that the sound is heard at some distance. Alittle wooden bridge, which stands in the middle of the stream, and overwhich the high waves constantly play, leads over the chasm. Any one notaware of the fact can hardly explain this appearance to himself, norunderstand the noise and surging of the stream. The little bridge in thecentre would be taken for the ruins of a fallen bridge, and the chasm isnot seen from the shore, because the foaming waves overtop it. Anindescribable fear would seize upon the traveller when he beheld theventurous guide ride into the stream, and was obliged to follow withoutpity or mercy. 

The priest of Thingvalla had prepared me for the scene, and had advisedme to _walk_ over the bridge; but as the water at this season stood sohigh that the waves from both sides dashed two feet above the bridge, Icould not descend from my horse, and was obliged to ride across. 

The whole passage through the stream is so peculiar, that it must beseen, and can scarcely be described. The water gushes and plays on allsides with fearful force; it rushes into the chasm with impetuousviolence, forms waterfalls on both sides, and breaks itself on theprojecting rocks. Not far from the bridge the cleft terminates; and thewhole breadth of the waters falls over rocks thirty to forty feet high. The nearer we approached the centre, the deeper, more violent, andimpetuous grew the stream, and the more deafening was the noise. Thehorses became restless and shy; and when we came to the bridge, theybegan to tremble, they reared, they turned to all sides but the rightone, and refused to obey the bridle. With infinite trouble we at lastsucceeded in bringing them across this dangerous place. 

The valley which is traversed by this peculiar river is narrow, and quiteenclosed by lava mountains and hills; the inanimate, silent nature aroundis perfectly adapted to imprint this scene for ever on the traveller'smemory. 

This remarkable stream had been the last difficulty; and now we proceededquietly and safely through the beautiful valleys till we approached theGeyser, which a projecting hillock enviously concealed from my anxiouslycurious gaze. At last this hillock was passed; and I saw the Geyser withits surrounding scenery, with its immense steam pillars, and the cloudsand cloudlets rising from it. The hill was about two miles distant fromthe Geyser and the other hot springs. There they were, boiling andbubbling all around, and through the midst lay the road to the basin. Eighty paces from it we halted. 

And now I stood before the chief object of my journey; I saw it, it wasso near me, and yet I did not venture to approach it. But a peasant whohad followed us from one of the neighbouring cottages, and had probablyguessed my anxiety and my fear, took me by the hand and constitutedhimself my cicerone. He had unfortunately, it being Sunday, paid toogreat a devotion to the brandy-bottle, so that he staggered rather thanwalked, and I hesitated to trust myself to the guidance of this man, notknowing whether he had reason enough left to distinguish how far we mightwith safety venture. My guide, who had accompanied me from Reikjavik, assured me indeed that I might trust him in spite of his intoxication, and that he would himself go with us to translate the peasant's Icelandicjargon into Danish; but nevertheless I followed with great trepidation. 

He led me to the margin of the basin of the great Geyser, which lies onthe top of a gentle elevation of about ten feet, and contains the outerand the inner basins. The diameter of the outer basin may be aboutthirty feet; that of the inner one six to seven feet. Both were filledto the brim, the water was pure as crystal, but boiled and bubbled onlyslightly. We soon left this spot; for when the basins are quite filledwith water it is very dangerous to approach them, as they may emptythemselves any moment by an eruption. We therefore went to inspect theother springs. 

My unsteady guide pointed those out which we might unhesitatinglyapproach, and warned me from the others. Then we returned to the greatGeyser, where he gave me some precautionary rules, in case of anintervening eruption, and then left me to prepare some accommodation formy stay. I will briefly enumerate the rules he gave me. 

"The pillar of water always rises perpendicularly, and the overflowingwater has its chief outlets on one and the same side. The water doesindeed escape on the other side, but only in inconsiderable quantities, and in shapeless little ducts, which one may easily evade. On this sideone may therefore approach within forty paces even during the mostviolent eruptions. The eruption announces itself by a dull roaring; andas soon as this is heard, the traveller must hastily retire to theabove-named distance, as the eruption always follows very quickly afterthe noise. The water, however, does not rise high every time, often onlyvery inconsiderably, so that, to see a very fine explosion, it is oftennecessary to stay some days here. "

The French scholar, M. P. Geimard, has provided for the accommodation oftravellers with a truly noble disinterestedness. He traversed the wholeof Iceland some years ago and left two large tents behind him; one here, and the other in Thingvalla. The one here is particularly appropriate, as travellers are frequently obliged, as stated above, to wait severaldays for a fine eruption. Every traveller certainly owes M. Geimard thewarmest thanks for this convenience. A peasant, the same who guidestravellers to the springs, has the charge of it, and is bound to pitch itfor any one for a fee of one or two florins. 

When my tent was ready it was nearly eleven o'clock. My companionsretired, and I remained alone. 

It is usual to watch through the night in order not to miss an eruption. Now, although an alternate watching is no very arduous matter for severaltravellers, it became a very hard task for me alone, and an Icelandicpeasant cannot be trusted; an eruption of Mount Hecla would scarcelyarouse him. 

I sat sometimes before and sometimes in my tent, and listened withanxious expectation for the coming events; at last, after midnight--thewitching hour--I heard some hollow sounds, as if a cannon were beingfired at a great distance, and its echoing sounds were borne by thebreeze. I rushed from my tent and expected subterranean noises, violentcracking and trembling of the earth, according to the descriptions I hadread. I could scarcely repress a slight sensation of fear. To be aloneat midnight in such a scene is certainly no joke. 

Many of my friends may remember my telling them, before my departure, that I expected I should need the most courage on my Icelandic journeyduring the nights at the Geyser. 

These hollow sounds were repeated, at very short intervals, thirteentimes; and each time the basin overflowed and ejected a considerablequantity of water. The sounds did not seem to proceed from subterraneanragings, but from the violent agitation of the waters. In a minute and ahalf all was over; the water no longer overflowed, the caldron and basinremained filled, and I returned to my tent disappointed in every way. This phenomenon was repeated every two hours and a half, or, at thelatest, every three hours and a half. I saw and heard nothing else allnight, the next day, or the second night. I waited in vain for aneruption. 

When I had accustomed myself to these temporary effusions of myneighbour, I either indulged in a gentle slumber in the intermediatetime, or I visited the other springs and explored. I wished to discoverthe boiling vapour and the coloured springs which many travellers assertthey have seen here. 

All the hot-springs are united with a circumference of 800 to 900 paces:several of them are very remarkable, but the majority insignificant. 

They are situated in the angle of an immense valley at the foot of ahill, behind which extends a chain of mountains. The valley is entirelycovered with grass, and the vegetation only decreases a little in theimmediate vicinity of the springs. Cottages are built every where in theneighbourhood; the nearest to the springs are only about 700 to 800 pacesdistant. 

I counted twelve large basins with boiling and gushing springs; ofsmaller ones there were many more. 

Among the gushing springs the Strokker is the most remarkable. It boilsand bubbles with most extraordinary violence at a depth of about twentyfeet, shoots up suddenly, and projects its waters into the air. Itseruptions sometimes last half an hour, and the column occasionallyascends to a height of forty feet. I witnessed several of its eruptions;but unfortunately not one of the largest. The highest I saw could nothave been above thirty feet, and did not last more than a quarter of anhour. The Strokker is the only spring, except the Geyser, which has tobe approached with great caution. The eruptions sometimes succeed eachother quickly, and sometimes cease for a few hours, and are not precededby any sign. Another spring spouts constantly, but never higher thanthree to four feet. A third one lies about four or five feet deep, in arather broad basin, and produces only a few little bubbles. But thiscalmness is deceptive: it seldom lasts more than half a minute, rarelytwo or three minutes; then the spring begins to bubble, to boil, and towave and spout to a height of two or three feet; without, however, reaching the level of the basin. In some springs I heard boiling andfoaming like a gentle bellowing; but saw no water, sometimes not evensteam, rising. 

Two of the most remarkable springs which can perhaps be found in theworld are situated immediately above the Geyser, in two openings, whichare separated by a wall of rock scarcely a foot wide. This partitiondoes not rise above the surface of the soil, but descends into the earth;the water boils slowly, and has an equable, moderate discharge. Thebeauty of these springs consists in their remarkable transparency. Allthe varied forms and caves, the projecting peaks, and edges of rock, arevisible far down, until the eye is lost in the depths of darkness. Butthe greatest beauty of the spring is the splendid colouring proceedingfrom the rock; it is of the tenderest, most transparent, pale blue andgreen, and resembles the reflection of a Bengal flame. But what is moststrange is, that this play of colour proceeds from the rock, and onlyextends eight to ten inches from it, while the other water is colourlessas common water, only more transparent, and purer. 

I could not believe it at first, and thought it must be occasioned by thesun; I therefore visited the springs at different times, sometimes whenthe sun shone brightly, sometimes when it was obscured by clouds, onceeven after its setting; but the colouring always remained the same. 

One may fearlessly approach the brink of these springs. The platformwhich projects directly from them, and under which one can see in alldirections, is indeed only a thin ledge of rock, but strong enough toprevent any accident. The beauty consists, as I have said, in themagical illumination, and in the transparency, by which all the caves andgrottoes to the greatest depths become visible to the eye. InvoluntarilyI thought of Schiller's _Diver_. {40} I seemed to see the goblet hang onthe peaks and jags of the rock; I could fancy I saw the monsters risefrom the bottom. It must be a peculiar pleasure to read this splendidpoem in such an appropriate spot. 

I found scarcely any basins of Brodem or coloured waters. The only oneof the kind which I saw was a small basin, in which a brownish-redsubstance, rather denser than water, was boiling. Another smallerspring, with dirty brown water, I should have quite overlooked, if I hadnot so industriously searched for these curiosities. 

At last, after long waiting, on the second day of my stay, on the 27thJune, at half-past eight in the morning, I was destined to see aneruption of the Geyser in its greatest perfection. The peasant, who camedaily in the morning and in the evening to inquire whether I had alreadyseen an eruption, was with me when the hollow sounds which precede itwere again heard. We hastened out, and I again despaired of seeing anything; the water only overflowed as usual, and the sound was alreadyceasing. But all at once, when the last sounds had scarcely died away, the explosion began. Words fail me when I try to describe it: such amagnificent and overpowering sight can only be seen once in a lifetime. 

All my expectations and suppositions were far surpassed. The waterspouted upwards with indescribable force and bulk; one pillar rose higherthan the other; each seemed to emulate the other. When I had in somemeasure recovered from the surprise, and regained composure, I looked atthe tent. How little, how dwarfish it seemed as compared to the heightof these pillars of water! And yet it was about twenty feet high. Itdid, indeed, lie ten feet lower than the basin of the Geyser; but if tenthad been raised above tent, these ten feet could only be deducted once, and I calculated, though my calculation may not be correct, that onewould need to pile up five or six tents to have the height of one of thepillars. Without exaggeration, I think the largest spout rose above onehundred feet high, and was three to four feet in diameter. 

Fortunately I had looked at my watch at the beginning of the hollowsounds, the forerunners of the eruption, for during its continuance Ishould probably have forgotten to do so. The whole lasted four minutes, of which the greater half must have been taken up by the eruption itself. 

When this wonderful scene was over, the peasant accompanied me to thebasin. We could now approach it and the boiler without danger, andexamine both at leisure. There was now nothing to fear; the water hadentirely disappeared from the outer basin. We entered it and approachedthe inner basin, in which the water had sunk seven or eight feet, whereit boiled and bubbled fiercely. 

With a hammer I broke some crust out of the outer as well as out of theinner basin; the former was white, the latter brown. I also tasted thewater; it had not an unpleasant taste, and can only contain aninconsiderable proportion of sulphur, as the steam does not even smell ofit. 

I went to the basin of the Geyser every half hour to observe how muchtime was required to fill it again. After an hour I could still descendinto the outer basin; but half an hour later the inner basin was alreadyfull, and commenced to overflow. As long as the water only filled theinner basin it boiled violently; but the higher it rose in the outer one, the less it boiled, and nearly ceased when the basin was filled: it onlythrew little bubbles here and there. 

After a lapse of two hours--it was just noon--the basin was filled nearlyto the brim; and while I stood beside it the water began again to bubbleviolently, and to emit the hollow sounds. I had scarcely time toretreat, for the pillars of water rose immediately. This time theyspouted during the noise, and were more bulky than those of the firstexplosion, which might proceed from their not rising so high, andtherefore remaining more compact. Their height may have been from fortyto fifty feet. The basins this time remained nearly as full after theeruption as before. 

I had now seen two eruptions of the Geyser, and felt amply compensatedfor my persevering patience and watchfulness. But I was destined to bemore fortunate, and to experience its explosions in all their variety. The spring spouted again at seven o'clock in the evening, ascended higherthan at noon, and brought up some stones, which looked like black spotsand points in the white frothy water-column. And during the third nightit presented itself under another phase: the water rose in dreadful, quickly-succeeding waves, without throwing rays; the basin overflowedviolently, and generated such a mass of steam as is rarely seen. Thewind accidentally blew it to the spot where I stood, and it enveloped meso closely that I could scarcely see a few feet off. But I perceivedneither smell nor oppression, merely a slight degree of warmth. 

 June 28th. 

As I had now seen the Geyser play so often and so beautifully, I orderedmy horses for nine o'clock this morning, to continue my journey. I madethe more haste to leave, as a Dutch prince was expected, who had latelyarrived at Reikjavik, with a large retinue, in a splendid man-of-war. 

I had the luck to see another eruption before my departure at half-pasteight o'clock; and this one was nearly as beautiful as the first. Thistime also the outer basin was entirely emptied, and the inner one to adepth of six or seven feet. I could therefore again descend into thebasin, and bid farewell to the Geyser at the very brink of the crater, which, of course, I did. 

I had now been three nights and two days in the immediate vicinity of theGeyser, and had witnessed five eruptions, of which two were of the mostconsiderable that had ever been known. But I can assure my readers thatI did not find every thing as I had anticipated it according to thedescriptions and accounts I had read. I never heard a greater noise thanI have mentioned, and never felt any trembling of the earth, although Ipaid the greatest attention to every little circumstance, and held myhead to the ground during an eruption. 

It is singular how many people repeat every thing they hear fromothers--how some, with an over-excited imagination, seem to see, hear, and feel things which do not exist; and how others, again, tell the mostunblushing falsehoods. I met an example of this in Reikjavik, in thehouse of the apothecary Moller, in the person of an officer of a Frenchfrigate, who asserted that he had "ridden to the very edge of the craterof Mount Vesuvius. " He probably did not anticipate meeting any one inReikjavik who had also been to the crater of Vesuvius. Nothing irritatesme so much as such falsehoods and boastings; and I could not thereforeresist asking him how he had managed that feat. I told him that I hadbeen there, and feared danger as little as he could do; but that I hadbeen compelled to descend from my donkey near the top of the mountain, and let my feet carry me the remainder of the journey. He seemed ratherembarrassed, and pretended he had meant to say _nearly_ to the crater;but I feel convinced he will tell this story so often that he will atlast believe it himself. 

I hope I do not weary my readers by dwelling so long on the subject ofthe Geyser. I will now vary the subject by relating a few circumstancesthat came under my notice, which, though trifling in themselves, were yetvery significant. The most unimportant facts of an almost unknowncountry are often interesting, and are often most conclusive evidences ofthe general character of the nation. 

I have already spoken of my intoxicated guide. It is yet inexplicable tome how he could have conducted me so safely in such a semi-consciousstate; and had he not been the only one, I should certainly not havetrusted myself to his guidance. 

Of the want of cleanliness of the Icelanders, no one who has notwitnessed it can have any idea; and if I attempted to describe some oftheir nauseous habits, I might fill volumes. They seem to have nofeeling of propriety, and I must, in this respect, rank them as farinferior to the Bedouins and Arabs--even to the Greenlanders. I can, therefore, not conceive how this nation could once have beendistinguished for wealth, bravery, and civilisation. 

On this day I proceeded on my journey about twenty-eight miles farther toSkalholt. 

For the first five miles we retraced our former road; then we turned tothe left and traversed the beautiful long valley in which the Geyser issituated. For many miles we could see its clouds of steam rising to thesky. The roads were tolerable only when they passed along the sides ofhills and mountains; in the plains they were generally marshy and full ofwater. We sometimes lost all traces of a road, and only pushed ontowards the quarter in which the place of our destination was situated;and feared withal to sink at every pace into the soft and unresistingsoil. 

I found the indolence of the Icelandic peasants quite unpardonable. Allthe valleys through which we passed were large morasses richly overgrownwith grass. If the single parishes would unite to dig trenches and drainthe soil, they would have the finest meadows. This is proved near themany precipices where the water has an outlet; in these spots the grassgrows most luxuriantly, and daisies and herbs flourish there, and evenwild clover. A few cottages are generally congregated on these oases. 

Before arriving at the village of Thorfastadir, we already perceivedHecla surrounded by the beautiful jokuls. 

I arrived at Thorfastadir while a funeral was going on. As I entered thechurch the mourners were busily seeking courage and consolation in thebrandy-bottle. The law commands, indeed, that this be not done in thechurch; but if every one obeyed the law, what need would there be ofjudges? The Icelanders must think so, else they would discontinue theunseemly practice. 

When the priest came, a psalm or a prayer--I could not tell which it was, being Icelandic--was so earnestly shouted by peasants under theleadership of the priest and elders, that the good people waxed quitewarm and out of breath. Then the priest placed himself before thecoffin, which, for want of room, had been laid on the backs of the seats, and with a very loud voice read a prayer which lasted more than half anhour. With this the ceremony within the church was concluded, and thecoffin was carried round the church to the grave, followed by the priestand the rest of the company. This grave was deeper than any I had everseen. When the coffin had been lowered, the priest threw three handfulsof earth upon it, but none of the mourners followed his example. Amongthe earth which had been dug out of the grave I noticed four skulls, several human bones, and a board of a former coffin. These were allthrown in again upon the coffin, and the grave filled in presence of thepriest and the people. One man trod the soil firm, then a little moundwas made and covered with grass-plots which were lying ready. The wholebusiness was completed with miraculous speed. 

The little town of Skalholt, my station this night, was once ascelebrated in religious matters as Thingvalla had been politicallyfamous. Here, soon after the introduction of Christianity, the firstbishopric was founded in 1098, and the church is said to have been one ofthe largest and richest. Now Skalholt is a miserable place, and consistsof three or four cottages, and a wretched wooden church, which mayperhaps contain a hundred persons; it has not even its own priest, butbelongs to Thorfastadir. 

My first business on arriving was to inspect the yet remaining relics ofpast ages. First I was shewn an oil-picture which hangs in the church, and is said to represent the first bishop of Skalholt, Thorlakur, who wasworshipped almost as a saint for his strict and pious life. 

After this, preparations were made to clear away the steps of the altarand several boards of the flooring. I stood expectantly looking on, thinking that I should now have to descend into a vault to inspect theembalmed body of the bishop. I must confess this prospect was not themost agreeable, when I thought of the approaching night which I shouldhave to spend in this church, perhaps immediately over the grave of theold skeleton. I had besides already had too much to do with the dead forone day, and could not rid myself of the unpleasant grave-odour which Ihad imbibed in Thorfastadir, and which seemed to cling to my dress and mynose. {41} I was therefore not a little pleased when, instead of thedreaded vault and mummy, I was only shewn a marble slab, on which wereinscribed the usual notifications of the birth, death, &c. Of this greatbishop. Besides this, I saw an old embroidered stole and a simple goldenchalice, both of which are said to be relics of the age of Thorlakar. 

Then we ascended into the so-called store-room, which is only separatedfrom the lower portion of the church by a few boards, and which extendsto the altar. Here are kept the bells and the organ, if the churchpossesses one, the provisions, and a variety of tools. They opened animmense chest for me there, which seemed to contain only large pieces oftallow made in the form of cheeses; but under this tallow I found thelibrary, where I discovered an interesting treasure. This was, besidesseveral very old books in the Icelandic tongue, three thick foliovolumes, which I could read very easily; they were German, and containedLuther's doctrines, letters, epistles, &c. 

I had now seen all there was to be seen, and began to satisfy my physicalwants by calling for some hot water to make coffee, &c. As usual, allthe inhabitants of the place ranged themselves in and before the church, probably to increase their knowledge of the human race by studying mypeculiarities. I soon, however, closed the door, and prepared a splendidcouch for myself. At my first entrance into the church, I had noticed along box, quite filled with sheep's wool. I threw my rugs over this, andslept as comfortably as in the softest bed. In the morning I carefullyteased the wool up again, and no one could then have imagined where I hadpassed the night. 

Nothing amused me more, when I had lodgings of this description, than thecuriosity of the people, who would rush in every morning, as soon as Iopened the door. The first thing they said to each other was always, "Krar hefur hun sovid" (Where can she have slept?). The good peoplecould not conceive how it was possible to spend a night _alone_ in achurch surrounded by a churchyard; they perhaps considered me an evilspirit or a witch, and would too gladly have ascertained how such acreature slept. When I saw their disappointed faces, I had to turn awaynot to laugh at them. 

 June 29th. 

Early the next morning I continued my journey. Not far from Skalholt wecame to the river Thiorsa, which is deep and rapid. We crossed in aboat; but the horses had to swim after us. It is often very troublesometo make the horses enter these streams; they see at once that they willhave to swim. The guide and boatmen cannot leave the shore till thehorses have been forced into the stream; and even then they have to throwstones, to threaten them with the whip, and to frighten them by shoutsand cries, to prevent them from returning. 

When we had made nearly twelve miles on marshy roads, we came to thebeautiful waterfall of the Huitha. This fall is not so remarkable forits height, which is scarcely more than fifteen to twenty feet, as forits breadth, and for its quantity of water. Some beautiful rocks are soplaced at the ledge of the fall, that they divide it into three parts;but it unites again immediately beneath them. The bed of the river, aswell as its shores, is of lava. 

The colour of the water is also a remarkable feature in this river; itinclines so much to milky white, that, when the sun shines on it, itrequires no very strong imaginative power to take the whole for milk. 

Nearly a mile above the fall we had to cross the Huitha, one of thelargest rivers in Iceland. Thence the road lies through meadows, whichare less marshy than the former ones, till it comes to a broad stream oflava, which announces the vicinity of the fearful volcano of Hecla. 

I had hitherto not passed over such an expanse of country in Iceland asthat from the Geyser to this place without coming upon streams of lava. And this lava-stream seemed to have felt some pity for the beautifulmeadows, for it frequently separated into two branches, and thus enclosedthe verdant plain. But it could not withstand the violence of thesucceeding masses; it had been carried on, and had spread death anddestruction everywhere. The road to it, through plains covered with darksand, and over steep hills intervening, was very fatiguing and laborious. 

We proceeded to the little village of Struvellir, where we stopped togive our horses a few hours' rest. Here we found a large assembly of menand animals. {42} It happened to be Sunday, and a warm sunny day, and soa very full service was held in the pretty little church. When it wasover, I witnessed an amusing rural scene. The people poured out of thechurch, --I counted ninety-six, which is an extraordinarily numerousassemblage for Iceland, --formed into little groups, chatting and joking, not forgetting, however, to moisten their throats with brandy, of whichthey had taken care to bring an ample supply. Then they bridled theirhorses and prepared for departure; now the kisses poured in from allsides, and there was no end of leave-taking, for the poor people do notknow whether they shall ever meet again, and when. 

In all Iceland welcome and farewell is expressed by a loud kiss, --apractice not very delightful for a non-Icelander, when one considerstheir ugly, dirty faces, the snuffy noses of the old people, and thefilthy little children. But the Icelanders do not mind this. They allkissed the priest, and the priest kissed them; and then they kissed eachother, till the kissing seemed to have no end. Rank is not considered inthis ceremony; and I was not a little surprised to see how my guide, acommon farm-labourer, kissed the six daughters of a judge, or the wifeand children of a priest, or a judge and the priest themselves, and howthey returned the compliment without reserve. Every country has itspeculiar customs!

The religious ceremonies generally begin about noon, and last two orthree hours. There being no public inn in which to assemble, and nostable in which the horses can be fastened, all flock to the open spacein front of the church, which thus becomes a very animated spot. Allhave to remain in the open air. 

When the service was over, I visited the priest, Herr Horfuson; he waskind enough to conduct me to the Salsun, nine miles distant, principallyto engage a guide to Hecla for me. 

I was doubly rejoiced to have this good man at my side, as we had tocross a dangerous stream, which was very rapid, and so deep that thewater rose to the horses' breasts. Although we raised our feet as highas possible, we were yet thoroughly wet. This wading across rivers isone of the most unpleasant modes of travelling. The horse swims morethan it walks, and this creates a most disagreeable sensation; one doesnot know whither to direct one's eyes; to look into the stream wouldexcite giddiness, and the sight of the shore is not much better, for thatseems to move and to recede, because the horse, by the current, is forceda little way down the river. To my great comfort the priest rode by myside to hold me, in case I should not be able to keep my seat. I passedfortunately through this probation; and when we reached the other shore, Herr Horfuson pointed out to me how far the current had carried us downthe river. 

The valley in which Salsun and the Hecla are situated is one of thosewhich are found only in Iceland. It contains the greatest contrasts. Here are charming fields covered with a rich green carpet of softestgrass, and there again hills of black, shining lava; even the fertileplains are traversed by streams of lava and spots of sand. Mount Heclanotoriously has the blackest lava and the blackest sand; and it may beimagined how the country looks in its immediate neighbourhood. One hillonly to the left of Hecla is reddish brown, and covered with sand andstones of a similar colour. The centre is much depressed, and seems toform a large crater. Mount Hecla is directly united with thelava-mountains piled round it, and seems from the plain only as a higherpoint. It is surrounded by several glaciers, whose dazzling fields ofsnow descend far down, and whose brilliant plains have probably neverbeen trod by human feet; several of its sides were also covered withsnow. To the left of the valley near Salsun, and at the foot of alava-hill, lies a lovely lake, on whose shores a numerous flock of sheepwere grazing. Near it rises another beautiful hill, so solitary andisolated, that it looks as if it had been cast out by its neighbours andbanished hither. Indeed, the whole landscape here is so peculiarlyIcelandic, so strange and remarkable, that it will ever remain impressedon my memory. 

Salsun lies at the foot of Mount Hecla, but is not seen before onereaches it. 

Arrived at Salsun, our first care was to seek a guide, and to bargain forevery thing requisite for the ascension of the mountain. The guide wasto procure a horse for me, and to take me and my former guide to thesummit of Hecla. He demanded five thaler and two marks (about fifteenshillings), a most exorbitant sum, on which he could live for a month. But what could we do? He knew very well that there was no other guide tobe had, and so I was forced to acquiesce. When all was arranged, my kindcompanion left me, wishing me success on my arduous expedition. 

I now looked out for a place in which I could spend the night, and afilthy hole fell to my lot. A bench, rather shorter that my body, wasput into it, to serve as my bed; beside it hung a decayed fish, which hadinfected the whole room with its smell. I could scarcely breathe; and asthere was no other outlet, I was obliged to open the door, and thusreceive the visits of the numerous and amiable inhabitants. What astrengthening and invigorating preparation for the morrow's expedition!

At the foot of Mount Hecla, and especially in this village, every thingseems to be undermined. Nowhere, not even on Mount Vesuvius, had I heardsuch hollow, droning sounds as here, --the echoes of the heavy footstepsof the peasants. These sounds made a very awful impression on me as Ilay all night alone in that dark hole. 

My Hecla guide, as I shall call him to distinguish him from my otherguide, advised me to start at two o'clock in the morning, to which Iassented, well knowing, however, that we should not have mounted ourhorses before five o'clock. 

As I had anticipated, so it happened. At half-past five we were quiteprepared and ready for departure. Besides bread and cheese, a bottle ofwater for myself, and one of brandy for my guides, we were also providedwith long sticks, tipped with iron points to sound the depth of the snow, and to lean upon. 

We were favoured by a fine warm sunny morning, and galloped briskly overthe fields and the adjoining plains of sand. My guide considered thefine weather a very lucky omen, and told me that M. Geimard, thebefore-mentioned French scholar, had been compelled to wait three daysfor fine weather. Nine years had elapsed, and no one had ascended themountain since then. A prince of Denmark, who travelled through Icelandsome years before, had been there, but had returned without effecting hispurpose. 

Our road at first led us through beautiful fields, and then over plainsof black sand enclosed on all sides by streams, hillocks, and mountainsof piled-up lava. Closer and closer these fearful masses approach, andscarcely permit a passage through a narrow cleft; we had to climb overblocks and hills of lava, where it is difficult to find a firmresting-place for the foot. The lava rolled beside and behind us, and wehad to proceed carefully not to fall or be hit by the rolling lava. Butmost dangerous were the chasms filled with snow over which we had topass; the snow had been softened by the warmth of the season, so that wesank into it nearly every step, or, what was worse, slipped back morethan we had advanced. I scarcely think there can be another mountainwhose ascent offers so many difficulties. 

After a labour of about three hours and a half we neared the summit ofthe mountain, where we were obliged to leave our horses. I should, indeed, have preferred to do so long before, as I was apprehensive of thepoor animals falling as they climbed over these precipices--one mightalmost call them rolling mountains--but my guide would not permit it. Sometimes we came to spots where they were useful, and then he maintainedthat I must ride as far as possible to reserve my strength for theremaining difficulties. And he was right; I scarcely believe I shouldhave been able to go through it on foot, for when I thought we were nearthe top, hills of lava again rose between us, and we seemed farther fromour journey's end than before. 

My guide told me that he had never taken any one so far on horseback, andI can believe it. Walking was bad enough--riding was fearful. 

At every fresh declivity new scenes of deserted, melancholy districtswere revealed to us; every thing was cold and dead, every where there wasblack burnt lava. It was a painful feeling to see so much, and beholdnothing but a stony desert, an immeasurable chaos. 

There were still two declivities before us, --the last, but the worst. Wehad to climb steep masses of lava, sharp and pointed, which covered thewhole side of the mountain. I do not know how often I fell and cut myhands on the jagged points of the lava. It was a fearful journey!

The dazzling whiteness of the snow contrasted with the bright black lavabeside it had an almost blinding effect. When crossing fields of snow Idid not look at the lava; for having tried to do so once or twice, Icould not see my way afterwards, and had nearly grown snow-blind. 

 [Picture: Hecla]

After two hours' more labour we reached the summit of the mountain. Istood now on Mount Hecla, and eagerly sought the crater on the snowlesstop, but did not find it. I was the more surprised, as I had readdetailed accounts of it in several descriptions of travel. 

I traversed the whole summit of the mountain and climbed to the adjoiningjokul, but did not perceive an opening, a fissure, a depressed space, norany sign of a crater. Lower down in the sides of the mountain, but notin the real cone, I saw some clefts and fissures from which the streamsof lava probably poured. The height of the mountain is said to be 4300feet. 

During the last hour of our ascent the sun had grown dim. Clouds of mistblown from the neighbouring glaciers enshrouded the hill-tops, and soonenveloped us so closely that we could scarcely see ten paces before us. At last they dissolved, fortunately not in rain but in snow, whichprofusely covered the black uneven lava. The snow remained on theground, and the thermometer stood at one degree of cold. 

In a little while the clear blue sky once more was visible, and the sunagain shone over us. I remained on the top till the clouds had separatedbeneath us, and afforded me a better distant view over the country. 

My pen is unfortunately too feeble to bring vividly before my readers thepicture such as I beheld it here, and to describe to them the desolation, the extent and height of these lava-masses. I seemed to stand in acrater, and the whole country appeared only a burnt-out fire. Here lavawas piled up in steep inaccessible mountains; there stony rivers, whoselength and breadth seemed immeasurable, filled the once-verdant fields. Every thing was jumbled together, and yet the course of the last eruptioncould be distinctly traced. 

I stood there, in the centre of horrible precipices, caves, streams, valleys, and mountains, and scarcely comprehended how it was possible topenetrate so far, and was overcome with terror at the thought whichinvoluntarily obtruded itself--the possibility of never finding my wayagain out of these terrible labyrinths. 

Here, from the top of Mount Hecla, I could see far into the uninhabitedcountry, the picture of a petrified creation, dead and motionless, andyet magnificent, --a picture which once seen can never again fade from thememory, and which alone amply compensates for all the previous troublesand dangers. A whole world of glaciers, lava-mountains, snow andice-fields, rivers and lakes, into which no human foot has ever venturedto penetrate. How nature must have laboured and raged till these formswere created! And is it over now? Has the destroying element exhausteditself; or does it only rest, like the hundred-headed Hydra, to breakforth with renewed strength, and desolate those regions which, pushed tothe verge of the sea-shore, encircle the sterile interior as a modestwreath? I thank God that he has permitted me to behold this chaos in hiscreation; but I thank him more heartily that he has placed me to dwell inregions where the sun does more than merely give light; where it inspiresand fertilises animals and plants, and fills the human heart with joy andthankfulness towards its Creator. {43}

The Westmann Isles, which are said to be visible from the top of Hecla, Icould not see; they were probably covered by clouds. 

During the ascent of the Hecla I had frequently touched lava, --sometimesinvoluntarily, when I fell; sometimes voluntarily, to find a hot or atleast a warm place. I was unfortunate enough only to find cold ones. The falling snow was therefore most welcome, and I looked anxiouslyaround to see a place where the subterranean heat would melt it. Ishould then have hastened thither and found what I sought. Butunfortunately the snow remained unmelted every where. I could neithersee any clouds of smoke, although I gazed steadily at the mountain forhours, and could from my post survey it far down the sides. 

As we descended we found the snow melting at a depth of 500 to 600 feet;lower down, the whole mountain smoked, which I thought was theconsequence of the returning warmth of the sun, for my thermometer nowstood at nine degrees of heat. I have noticed the same circumstanceoften on unvolcanic mountains. The spots from which the smoke rose werealso cold. 

The smooth jet-black, bright, and dense lava is only found on themountain itself and in its immediate vicinity. But all lava is not thesame: there is jagged, glassy, and porous lava; the former is black, andso is the sand which covers one side of Hecla. The farther the lava andsand are from the mountain, the more they lose this blackness, and theircolour plays into iron-colour and even into light-grey; but thelighter-coloured lava generally retains the brightness and smoothness ofthe black lava. 

After a troublesome descent, having spent twelve hours on this excursion, we arrived safely at Salsun; and I was on the point of returning to mylodging, somewhat annoyed at the prospect of spending another night insuch a hole, when my guide surprised me agreeably by the proposition toreturn to Struvellir at once. The horses, he said, were sufficientlyrested, and I could get a good room there in the priest's house. I soonpacked, and in a short time we were again on horseback. The second timeI came to the deep Rangaa, I rode across fearlessly, and needed noprotection at any side. Such is man: danger only alarms him the firsttime; when he has safely surmounted it once, he scarcely thinks of it thesecond time, and wonders how he can have felt any fear. 

I saw five little trees standing in a field near the stream. The stemsof these, which, considering the scarcity of trees in Iceland, may becalled remarkable phenomena, were crooked and knotty, but yet six orseven feet high, and about four or five inches in diameter. 

As my guide had foretold, I found a very comfortable room and a good bedin the priest's house. Herr Horfuson is one of the best men I have evermet with. He eagerly sought opportunities for giving me pleasure, and tohim I owe several fine minerals and an Icelandic book of the year 1601. May God reward his kindness and benevolence!

 July 1st. 

We retraced our steps as far as the river Huitha, over which we rowed, and then turned in another direction. Our journey led us throughbeautiful valleys, many of them producing abundance of grass; butunfortunately so much moss grew among it, that these large plains werenot available for pastures, and only afforded comfort to travellers bytheir aspect of cheerfulness. They were quite dry. 

The valley in which Hjalmholm, our resting-place for this night, wassituated, is traversed by a stream of lava, which had, however, beenmodest enough not to fill up the whole valley, but to leave a space forthe pretty stream Elvas, and for some fields and hillocks, on which manycottages stood. It was one of the most populous valleys I had seen inIceland. 

Hjalmholm is situated on a hill. In it lives the Sysselmann of theRangaar district, in a large and beautiful house such as I saw no wherein Iceland except in Reikjavik. He had gone to the capital of the islandas member of the Allthing; but his daughters received me very hospitablyand kindly. 

We talked and chatted much; I tried to display my knowledge of the Danishlanguage before them, and must often have made use of curious phrases, for the girls could not contain their laughter. But that did not abashme; I laughed with them, applied to my dictionary, which I carried withme, and chatted on. They seemed to gather no very high idea of thebeauty of my countrywomen from my personal appearance; for which I humblycrave the forgiveness of my countrywomen, assuring them that no oneregrets the fact more than I do. But dame Nature always treats people ofmy years very harshly, and sets a bad example to youth of the respect dueto age. Instead of honouring us and giving us the preference, shepatronises the young folks, and every maiden of sixteen can turn up hernose at us venerable matrons. Besides my natural disqualifications, thesharp air and the violent storms to which I had been subjected haddisfigured my face very much. They had affected me more than the burningheat of the East. I was very brown, my lips were cracked, and my nose, alas, even began to rebel against its ugly colour. It seemed anxious topossess a new, dazzling white, tender skin, and was casting off the oldone in little bits. 

The only circumstance which reinstated me in the good opinion of theyoung girls was, that having brushed my hair unusually far out of myface, a white space became visible. The girls all cried outsimultaneously, quite surprised and delighted: "Hun er quit" (she iswhite). I could not refrain from laughing, and bared my arm to prove tothem that I did not belong to the Arab race. 

A great surprise was destined me in this house; for, as I was ransackingthe Sysselmann's book-case, I found Rotteck's Universal History, a GermanLexicon, and several poems and writings of German poets. 

 July 2d. 

The way from Kalmannstunga to Thingvalla leads over nothing but lava, andthe one to-day went entirely through marshes. As soon as we had crossedone, another was before us. Lava seemed to form the soil here, forlittle portions of this mineral rose like islands out of the marshes. 

The country already grew more open, and we gradually lost sight of theglaciers. The high mountains on the left seemed like hills in thedistance, and the nearer ones were really hills. After riding about ninemiles we crossed the large stream of Elvas in a boat, and then had totread carefully across a very long, narrow bank, over a meadow which wasquite under water. If a traveller had met us on this bank, I do not knowwhat we should have done; to turn round would have been as dangerous asto sink into the morass. Fortunately one never meets any travellers inIceland. 

Beyond the dyke the road runs for some miles along the mountains andhills, which all consist of lava, and are of a very dark, nearly blackcolour. The stones on these hills were very loose; in the plain belowmany colossal pieces were lying, which must have fallen down; and manyothers threatened to fall every moment. We passed the dangerous spotsafely, without having had to witness such a scene. 

I often heard a hollow sound among these hills; I at first took it fordistant thunder, and examined the horizon to discover the approachingstorm. But when I saw neither clouds nor lightning, I perceived that Imust seek the origin of the sounds nearer, and that they proceeded fromthe falling portions of rock. 

The higher mountains to the left fade gradually more and more from view;but the river Elvas spreads in such a manner, and divides into so manybranches, that one might mistake it for a lake with many islands. Itflows into the neighbouring sea, whose expanse becomes visible aftersurmounting a few more small hills. 

The vale of Reikum, which we now entered, is, like that of Reikholt, richin hot springs, which are congregated partly in the plain, partly on orbehind the hills, in a circumference of between two and three miles. 

When we had reached the village of Reikum I sent my effects at once tothe little church, took a guide, and proceeded to the boiling springs. Ifound very many, but only two remarkable ones; these, however, belong tothe most noteworthy of their kind. The one is called the little Geyser, the other the Bogensprung. 

The little Geyser has an inner basin of about three feet diameter. Thewater boils violently at a depth of from two to three feet, and remainswithin its bounds till it begins to spout, when it projects a beautifulvoluminous steam of from 20 to 30 feet high. 

At half-past eight in the evening I had the good fortune to see one ofthese eruptions, and needed not, as I had done at the great Geyser, tobivouac near it for days and nights. The eruption lasted some time, andwas tolerably equable; only sometimes the column of water sank a little, to rise to its former height with renewed force. After forty minutes itfell quite down into the basin again. The stones we threw in, itrejected at once, or in a few seconds, shivered into pieces, to a heightof about 12 to 15 feet. Its bulk must have been 1 to 1. 5 feet indiameter. My guide assured me that this spring generally plays onlytwice, rarely thrice, in twenty-four hours, and not, as I have seen itstated, every six minutes. I remained near it till midnight, but saw noother eruption. 

This spring very much resembles the Strukker near the great Geyser, theonly difference being that the water sinks much lower in the latter. 

The second of the two remarkable springs, the arched spring, is situatednear the little Geyser, on the declivity of a hill. I had never seensuch a curious formation for the bed of a spring as this is. It has nobasin, but lies half open at your feet, in a little grotto, which isseparated into various cavities and holes, and which is half-surroundedby a wall of rock bending over it slightly at a height of about 2 feet, and then rises 10 to 12 feet higher. This spring never is at rest morethan a minute; then it begins to rise and boil quickly, and emits avoluminous column, which, striking against the projecting rock, isflattened by it, and rises thence like an arched fan. The height of thispeculiarly-spread jet of water may be about 12 feet, the arch itdescribes 15 to 20 feet, and its breadth 3 to 8 feet. The time oferuption is often longer than that of repose. After an eruption thewater always sinks a few feet into the cave, and for 15 or 20 secondsadmits of a glance into this wonderful grotto. But it rises againimmediately, fills the grotto and the basin, which is only a continuationof the grotto, and springs again. 

I watched this miraculous play of nature for more than an hour, and couldnot tear myself from it. This spring, which is certainly the only one ofits kind, gratified me much more than the little Geyser. 

There is another spring called the roaring Geyser; but it is nothing morethan a misshapen hole, in which one hears the water boil, but cannot seeit. The noise is, also, not at all considerable. 

 July 3d. 

Near Reikum we crossed a brook into which all the hot springs flow, andwhich has a pretty fall. We then ascended the adjoining mountain, androde full two hours on the high plain. The plain itself was monotonous, as it was only covered with lava-stones and moss, but the prospect intothe valley was varied and beautiful. Vale and sea were spread before me, and I saw the Westmann Islands, with their beautiful hills, which theenvious clouds had concealed from me on the Hecla, lying in the distance. Below me stood some houses in the port-town, Eierbach, and near them thewaters of the Elvas flow into the sea. 

At the end of this mountain-level a valley was situated, which was alsofilled with lava, but with that jagged black lava which presents such abeautiful appearance. Immense streams crossed it from all sides, so thatit almost resembled a black lake separated from the sea by a chain ofequally black mountains. 

We descended into this sombre vale through piles of lava and fields ofsnow, and went on through valleys and chasms, over fields of lava, plainsof meadow-land, past dark mountains and hills, till we reached the chiefstation of my Icelandic journey, the town of Reikjavik. 

The whole country between Reikum and Reikjavik, a distance of 45 to 50miles, is, for the most part, uninhabited. Here and there, in the fieldsof lava, stand little pyramids of the same substance, which serve aslandmarks; and there are two houses built for such persons as are obligedto travel during the winter. But we found much traffic on the road, andoften overtook caravans of 15 to 20 horses. Being the beginning ofAugust, it was the time of trade and traffic in Iceland. Then thecountry people travel to Reikjavik from considerable distances, to changetheir produce and manufactures, partly for money, partly for necessariesand luxuries. At this period the merchants and factors have not handsenough to barter the goods or close the accounts which the peasants wishto settle for the whole year. 

At this season an unusual commotion reigns in Reikjavik. Numerous groupsof men and horses fill the streets; goods are loaded and unloaded;friends who have not met for a year or more welcome each other, otherstake leave. On one spot curious tents {44} are erected, before whichchildren play; on another drunken men stagger along, or gallop onhorseback, so that one is terrified, and fears every moment to see themfall. 

This unusual traffic unfortunately only lasts six or eight days. Thepeasant hastens home to his hay-harvest; the merchant must quicklyregulate the produce and manufactures he has purchased, and load hisships with them, so that they may sail and reach their destination beforethe storms of the autumnal equinox. 

 Miles. From Reikjavik to Thingvalla is 45From Thingvalla to the Geyser 36From the Geyser to Skalholt 28From Skalholt to Salsun 36From Salsun to Struvellir 9From Struvellir to Hjalmholm 28From Hjalmholm to Reikum 32From Reikum to Reikjavik 45 259CHAPTER VII

During my travels in Iceland I had of course the opportunity of becomingacquainted with its inhabitants, their manners and customs. I mustconfess that I had formed a higher estimate of the peasants. When weread in the history of that country that the first inhabitants hademigrated thither from civilised states; that they had brought knowledgeand religion with them; when we hear of the simple good-hearted people, and their patriarchal mode of life in the accounts of former travellers, and which we know that nearly every peasant in Iceland can read andwrite, and that at least a Bible, but generally other religions booksalso, are found in every cot, --one feels inclined to consider this nationthe best and most civilised in Europe. I deemed their moralitysufficiently secured by the absence of foreign intercourse, by theirisolated position, and the poverty of the country. No large town thereaffords opportunity for pomp or gaiety, or for the commission of smalleror greater sins. Rarely does a foreigner enter the island, whoseremoteness, severe climate, inhospitality, and poverty, are uninviting. The grandeur and peculiarity of its natural formation alone makes itinteresting, and that does not suffice for the masses. 

I therefore expected to find Iceland a real Arcadia in regard to itsinhabitants, and rejoiced at the anticipation of seeing such an Idylliclife realised. I felt so happy when I set foot on the island that Icould have embraced humanity. But I was soon undeceived. 

I have often been impatient at my want of enthusiasm, which must begreat, as I see every thing in a more prosaic form than other travellers. I do not maintain that my view is _right_, but I at least possess thevirtue of describing facts as I see them, and do not repeat them from theaccounts of others. 

I have already described the impoliteness and heartlessness of theso-called higher classes, and soon lost the good opinion I had formed ofthem. I now came to the working classes in the vicinity of Reikjavik. The saying often applied to the Swiss people, "No money, no Swiss, " onemay also apply to the Icelanders. And of this fact I can cite severalexamples. 

Scarcely had they heard that I, a foreigner, had arrived, than theyfrequently came to me, and brought quite common objects, such as can befound any where in Iceland, and expected me to pay dearly for them. Atfirst I purchased from charity, or to be rid of their importunities, andthrew the things away again; but I was soon obliged to give this up, as Ishould else have been besieged from morning to night. Their anxiety togain money without labour annoyed me less than the extortionate priceswith which they tried to impose on a stranger. For a beetle, such ascould be found under every stone, they asked 5 kr. (about 2d. ); as muchfor a caterpillar, of which thousands were lying on the beach; and for acommon bird's egg, 10 to 20 kr. (4d. To 8d. ) Of course, when I declinedbuying, they reduced their demand, sometimes to less than half theoriginal sum; but this was certainly not in consequence of their honesty. The baker in whose house I lodged also experienced the selfishness ofthese people. He had engaged a poor labourer to tar his house, who, whenhe had half finished his task, heard of other employment. He did noteven take the trouble to ask the baker to excuse him for a few days; hewent away, and did not return to finish the interrupted work for a wholeweek. This conduct was the more inexcusable as his children receivedbread, and even butter, twice a week from the baker. 

I was fortunate enough to experience similar treatment. Herr Knudson hadengaged a guide for me, with whom I was to take my departure in a fewdays. But it happened that the magistrate wished also to take a trip, and sent for my guide. The latter expected to be better paid by him, andwent; he did not come to me to discharge himself, but merely sent me wordon the eve of my departure, that he was ill, and could therefore not gowith me. I could enumerate many more such examples, which do not muchtend to give a high estimate of Icelandic morality. 

I consoled myself with the hope of finding simplicity and honesty in themore retired districts, and therefore anticipated a twofold pleasure frommy journey into the interior. I found many virtues, but unfortunately somany faults, that I am no longer inclined to exalt the Icelandic peasantsas examples. 

The best of their virtues is their honesty. I could leave my baggageunguarded any where for hours, and never missed the least article, forthey did not even permit their children to touch any thing. In thispoint they are so conscientious, that if a peasant comes from a distance, and wishes to rest in a cottage, he never fails to knock at the door, even if it is open. If no one calls "come in, " he does not enter. Onemight fearlessly sleep with open doors. 

Crimes are of such rare occurrence here, that the prison of Reikjavik waschanged into a dwelling-house for the chief warden many years since. Small crimes are punished summarily, either in Reikjavik or at the seatof the Sysselmann. Criminals of a deeper dye are sent to Copenhagen, andare sentenced and punished there. 

My landlord at Reikjavik, the master-baker Bernhoft, told me that onlyone crime had been committed in Iceland during the thirteen years that hehad resided there. This was the murder of an illegitimate childimmediately after its birth. The most frequently occurring crime iscow-stealing. 

I was much surprised to find that nearly all the Icelanders can read andwrite. The latter quality only was somewhat rarer with the women. Youths and men often wrote a firm, good hand. I also found books inevery cottage, the Bible always, and frequently poems and stories, sometimes even in the Danish language. 

They also comprehend very quickly; when I opened my map before them, theysoon understood its use and application. Their quickness is doublysurprising, if we consider that every father instructs his own children, and sometimes the neighbouring orphans. This is of course only done inthe winter; but as winter lasts eight months in Iceland, it is longenough. 

There is only one school in the whole island, which originally was inBessestadt, but has been removed to Reikjavik since 1846. In this schoolonly youths who can read and write are received, and they are eithereducated for priests, and may complete their studies here, or fordoctors, apothecaries, or judges, when they must complete their studiesin Copenhagen. 

Besides theology, geometry, geography, history, and several languages, such as Latin, Danish, and, since 1846, German and also French, aretaught in the school of Reikjavik. 

The chief occupation of the Icelandic peasants consists in fishing, whichis most industriously pursued in February, March, and April. Then theinhabitants of the interior come to the coasting villages and hirethemselves to the dwellers on the beach, the real fishermen, asassistants, taking a portion of the fish as their wages. Fishing isattended to at other times also, but then exclusively by the realfishermen. In the months of July and August many of the latter go intothe interior and assist in the hay-harvest, for which they receivebutter, sheep's wool, and salt lamb. Others ascend the mountains andgather the Iceland moss, of which they make a decoction, which they drinkmixed with milk, or they grind it to flour, and bake flat cakes of it, which serve them in place of bread. 

The work of the women consists in the preparation of the fish for drying, smoking, or salting; in tending the cattle, in knitting, sometimes ingathering moss. In winter both men and women knit and weave. 

As regards the hospitality of the Icelanders, {45} I do not think one cangive them so very much credit for it. It is true that priests andpeasants gladly receive any European traveller, and treat him to everything in their power; but they know well that the traveller who comes totheir island is neither an adventurer nor a beggar, and will thereforepay them well. I did not meet one peasant or priest who did not acceptthe proffered gift without hesitation. But I must say of the prieststhat they were every where obliging and ready to serve me, and satisfiedwith the smallest gift; and their charges, when I required horses for myexcursions, were always moderate. I only found the peasant lessinterested in districts where a traveller scarcely ever appeared; but insuch places as were more visited, their charges were often exorbitant. For example, I had to pay 20 to 30 kr. (8d. To 1s. ) for being ferriedover a river; and then my guide and I only were rowed in the boat, andthe horses had to swim. The guide who accompanied me on the Hecla alsoovercharged me; but he knew that I was forced to take him, as there is nochoice of guides, and one does not give up the ascent for the sake of alittle money. 

This conduct shows that the character of the Icelanders does not belongto the best; and that they take advantage of travellers with as muchshrewdness as the landlords and guides on the continent. 

A besetting sin of the Icelanders is their drunkenness. Their povertywould probably not be so great if they were less devoted to brandy, andworked more industriously. It is dreadful to see what deep root thisvice has taken. Not only on Sundays, but also on week-days, I metpeasants who were so intoxicated that I was surprised how they could keepin their saddle. I am, however, happy to say that I never saw a woman inthis degrading condition. 

Another of their passions is snuff. They chew and snuff tobacco with thesame infatuation as it is smoked in other countries. But their mode oftaking it is very peculiar. Most of the peasants, and even many of thepriests, have no proper snuff-box, but only a box turned of bone, shapedlike a powder-flask. When they take snuff, they throw back their head, insert the point of the flask in their nose, and shake a dose of tobaccointo it. They then, with the greatest amiability, offer it to theirneighbour, he to his, and so it goes round till it reaches the owneragain. 

I think, indeed, that the Icelanders are second to no nation inuncleanliness; not even to the Greenlanders, Esquimaux, or Laplanders. If I were to describe a portion only of what I experienced, my readerswould think me guilty of gross exaggeration; I prefer, therefore, toleave it to their imagination; merely saying that they cannot conceiveany thing too dirty for Iceland delicacy. 

Beside this very estimable quality, they are also insuperably lazy. Notfar from the coast are immense meadows, so marshy that it is dangerous tocross them. The fault lies less in the soil than the people. If theywould only make ditches, and thus dry the ground, they would have themost splendid grass. That this would grow abundantly is proved by thelittle elevations which rise from above the marshes, and which arethickly covered with grass, herbage, and wild clover. I also passedlarge districts covered with good soil, and some where the soil was mixedwith sand. 

I frequently debated with Herr Boge, who has lived in Iceland for fortyyears, and is well versed in farming matters, whether it would not bepossible to produce important pasture-grounds and hay-fields withindustry and perseverance. He agreed with me, and thought that evenpotato-fields might be reclaimed, if only the people were not so lazy, preferring to suffer hunger and resign all the comforts of cleanlinessrather than to work. What nature voluntarily gives, they are satisfiedwith, and it never occurs to them to force more from her. If a fewGerman peasants were transported hither, what a different appearance thecountry would soon have!

The best soil in Iceland is on the Norderland. There are a fewpotato-grounds there, and some little trees, which, without anycultivation, have reached a height of seven to eight feet. Herr Boge, established here for thirty years, had planted some mountain-ash andbirch-trees, which had grown to a height of sixteen feet. 

In the Norderland, and every where except on the coast, the people liveby breeding cattle. Many a peasant there possesses from two to fourhundred sheep, ten to fifteen cows, and ten to twelve horses. There arenot many who are so rich, but at all events they are better off than theinhabitants of the sea-coast. The soil there is for the most part bad, and they are therefore nearly all compelled to have recourse to fishing. 

Before quitting Iceland, I must relate a tradition told me by manyIcelanders, not only by peasants, but also by people of the so-calledhigher classes, and who all implicitly believe it. 

It is asserted that the inhospitable interior is likewise populated, butby a peculiar race of men, to whom alone the paths through these desertsare known. These savages have no intercourse with theirfellow-countrymen during the whole year, and only come to one of theports in the beginning of July, for one day at the utmost, to buy severalnecessaries, for which they pay in money. They then vanish suddenly, andno one knows in which direction they are gone. No one knows them; theynever bring their wives or children with them, and never reply to thequestion whence they come. Their language, also, is said to be moredifficult than that of the other inhabitants of Iceland. 

One gentleman, whom I do not wish to name, expressed a wish to have thecommand of twenty to twenty-five well-armed soldiers, to search for thesewild men. 

The people who maintain that they have seen these children of nature, assert that they are taller and stronger than other Icelanders; thattheir horses' hoofs, instead of being shod earth iron, have shoes ofhorn; and that they have much money, which they can only have acquired bypillage. When I inquired what respectable inhabitants of Iceland hadbeen robbed by these savages, and when and where, no one could give me ananswer. For my part, I scarcely think that one man, certainly not awhole race, could live by pillage in Iceland. 

DEPARTURE FROM ICELAND. --JOURNEY TO COPENHAGEN. 

I had seen all there was to be seen in Iceland, had finished all myexcursions, and awaited with inexpressible impatience the sailing of thevessel which was destined to bring me nearer my beloved home. But I hadto stay four very long weeks in Reikjavik, my patience being moreexhausted from day to day, and had after this long delay to be satisfiedwith the most wretched accommodation. 

The delay was the more tantalising, as several ships left the port in themean time, and Herr Knudson, with whom I had crossed over fromCopenhagen, invited me to accompany him on his return; but all thevessels went to England or to Spain, and I did not wish to visit eitherof these countries. I was waiting for an opportunity to go toScandinavia, to have at least a glance at these picturesque districts. 

At last there were two sloops which intended to sail towards the end ofJuly. The better of the two went to Altona; the destination of the otherwas Copenhagen. I had intended to travel in the former; but a merchantof Reikjavik had already engaged the only berth, --for there rarely ismore than one in such a small vessel, --and I deemed myself lucky toobtain the one in the other ship. Herr Bernhoft thought, indeed, thatthe vessel might be too bad for such a long journey, and proposed toexamine it, and report on its condition. But as I had quite determinedto go to Denmark, I requested him to waive the examination, and agreewith the captain about my passage. If, as I anticipated, he found thevessel too wretched, his warnings might have shaken my resolution, and Iwished to avoid that contingency. 

We heard, soon, that a young Danish girl, who had been in service inIceland, wished to return by the same vessel. She had been suffering somuch from home-sickness, that she was determined, under anycircumstances, to see her beloved fatherland again. If, thought I tomyself, the home-sickness is powerful enough to make this girlindifferent to the danger, longing must take its place in my breast andeffect the same result. 

Our sloop bore the consolatory name of Haabet (hope), and belonged to themerchant Fromm, in Copenhagen. 

Our departure had been fixed for the 26th of July, and after that day Iscarcely dared to leave my house, being in constant expectation of asummons on board. Violent storms unfortunately prevented our departure, and I was not called till the 29th of July, when I had to bid farewell toIceland. 

This was comparatively easy. Although I had seen many wonderful views, many new and interesting natural phenomena, I yet longed for myaccustomed fields, in which we do not find magnificent and overpoweringscenes, but lovelier and more cheerful ones. The separation from HerrKnudson and the family of Bernhoft was more difficult. I owed all thekindness I had experienced in the island, every good advice and usefulassistance in my travels, only to them. My gratitude to these kind andgood people will not easily fade from my heart. 

At noon I was already on board, and had leisure to admire all the gayflags and streamers with which the French frigate anchoring here had beendecked, to celebrate the anniversary of the July revolution. 

I endeavoured to turn my attention as much as possible to exteriorobjects, and not to look at our ship, for all that I had involuntarilyseen had not impressed me very favourably. I determined also not toenter the cabin till we were in the open sea and the pilots had left oursloop, so that all possibility of return would be gone. 

Our crew consisted of captain, steersman, two sailors, and a cabin-boy, who bore the title of cook; we added that of valet, as he was appointedto wait on us. 

When the pilots had left us, I sought the entrance of the cabin, --theonly, and therefore the common apartment. It consisted of a hole twofeet broad, which gaped at my feet, and in which a perpendicular ladderof five steps was inserted. I stood before it puzzled to know whichwould be the best mode of descent, but knew no other way than to ask ourhost the captain. He shewed it me at once, by sitting at the entranceand letting his feet down. Let the reader imagine such a proceeding withour long dresses, and, above all, in bad weather, when the ship waspitched about by storms. But the thought that many other people areworse off, and can get on, was always the anchor of consolation to whichI held; I argued with myself that I was made of the same stuff as otherhuman beings, only spoiled and pampered, but that I could bear what theybore. In consequence of this self-arguing, I sat down at once, tried thenew sliding-ladder, and arrived below in safety. 

I had first to accustom my eyes to the darkness which reigned here, thehatches being constructed to admit the light very sparingly. I soon, however, saw too much; for all was raggedness, dirt, and disorder. But Iwill describe matters in the order in which they occurred to me; for, asI flatter myself that many of my countrywomen will in spirit make thisjourney with me, and as many of them probably never had the opportunityof being in such a vessel, I wish to describe it to them very accurately. All who are accustomed to the sea will testify that I have adheredstrictly to the truth. But to return to the sloop. Its age emulatedmine, she being a relic of the last century. At that time little regardwas paid to the convenience of passengers, and the space was all madeavailable for freight; a fact which cannot surprise us, as the seaman'slife is passed on deck, and the ship was not built for travellers. Theentire length of the cabin from one berth to the other was ten feet; thebreadth was six feet. The latter space was made still narrower by a boxon one side, and by a little table and two little seats on the other, sothat only sufficient space remained to pass through. 

At dinner or supper, the ladies--the Danish girl and myself--sat on thelittle benches, where we were so squeezed, that we could scarcely move;the two cavaliers--the captain and the steersman--were obliged to standbefore the table, and eat their meals in that position. The table was sosmall that they were obliged to hold their plates in their hands. Inshort, every thing shewed the cabin was made only for the crew, not forthe passengers. 

The air in this enclosure was also not of the purest; for, besides thatit formed our bed-room, dining-room, and drawing-room, it was also usedas store-room, for in the side cupboards provisions of various kinds werestored, also oil-colours, and a variety of other matter. I preferred tosit on the deck, exposed to the cold and the storm, or to be bathed by awave, than to be half stifled below. Sometimes, however, I was obligedto descend, either when rain and storms were too violent, or when theship was so tossed by contrary winds that the deck was not safe. Therolling and pitching of our little vessel was often so terrible, that weladies could neither sit nor stand, and were therefore obliged to liedown in the miserable berths for many a weary day. How I envied mycompanion! she could sleep day and night, which I could not. I wasnearly always awake, much to my discomfort; for the hatches and theentrance were closed during the storm, and an Egyptian darkness, as wellas a stifling atmosphere, filled the cabin. 

In regard to food, all passengers, captain and crew, ate of the samedish. The morning meal consisted of miserable tea, or rather of nauseouswater having the colour of tea. The sailors imbibed theirs withoutsugar, but the captain and the steersman took a small piece of candiedsugar, which does not melt so quickly as the refined sugar, in theirmouth, and poured down cup after cup of tea, and ate ship's biscuit andbutter to it. 

The dinner fare varied. The first day we had salt meat, which is soakedthe evening before, and boiled the next day in sea-water. It was sosalt, so hard, and so tough, that only a sailor's palate can possiblyenjoy it. Instead of soup, vegetables, and pudding, we had pearl-barleyboiled in water, without salt or butter; to which treacle and vinegar wasadded at the dinner-table. All the others considered this a delicacy, and marvelled at my depraved taste when I declared it to be unpalatable. 

The second day brought a piece of bacon, boiled in sea-water, with thebarley repeated. On the third we had cod-fish with peas. Although thelatter were boiled hard and without butter, they were the most eatable ofall the dishes. On the fourth day the bill of fare of the first wasrepeated, and the same course followed again. At the end of every dinnerwe had black coffee. The supper was like the breakfast, --tea-water, ship's biscuit and butter. 

I wished to have provided myself with some chickens, eggs, and potatoesin Reikjavik, but I could not obtain any of these luxuries. Very fewchickens are kept--only the higher officials or merchants have them; eggsof eider-ducks and other birds may often be had, but more are nevercollected than are wanted for the daily supply, and then only in spring;for potatoes the season was not advanced enough. My readers have now apicture of the luxurious life I led on board the ship. Had I beenfortunate enough to voyage in a better vessel, where the passengers aremore commodiously lodged and better fed, the seasickness would certainlynot have attacked me; but in consequence of the stifling atmosphere ofthe cabin and the bad food, I suffered from it the first day. But on thesecond I was well again, regained my appetite, and ate salt meat, bacon, and peas as well as a sailor; the stockfish, the barley, and the coffeeand tea, I left untouched. 

A real sailor never drinks water; and this observation of mine wasconfirmed by our captain and steersman: instead of beer or wine, theytook tea, and, except at meals, cold tea. 

On Sunday evenings we had a grand supper, for the captain had eight eggs, which he had brought from Denmark, boiled for us four people. The crewhad a few glasses of punch-essence mixed in their tea. 

As my readers are now acquainted with the varied bill of fare in such aship, I will say a few words of the table-linen. This consisted only ofan old sailcloth, which was spread over the table, and looked so dirtyand greasy that I thought it would be much better and more agreeable toleave the table uncovered. But I soon repented the unwise thought, anddiscovered how important this cloth was. One morning I saw our valettreating a piece of sailcloth quite outrageously: he had spread it uponthe deck, stood upon it, and brushed it clean with the ship's broom. Irecognised our tablecloth by the many spots of dirt and grease, and inthe evening found the table bare. But what was the consequence?Scarcely had the tea-pot been placed on the table than it began to slipoff; had not the watchful captain quickly caught it, it would have fallento the ground and bathed our feet with its contents. Nothing could standon the polished table, and I sincerely pitied the captain that he had notanother tablecloth. 

My readers will imagine that what I have described would have been quitesufficient to make my stay in the vessel any thing but agreeable; but Idiscovered another circumstance, which even made it alarming. This wasnothing less than that our little vessel was constantly letting in aconsiderable quantity of water, which had to be pumped out every fewhours. The captain tried to allay my uneasiness by asserting that everyship admitted water, and ours only leaked a little more because it was soold. I was obliged to be content with his explanation, as it was now toolate to think of a change. Fortunately we did not meet with any storms, and therefore incurred less danger. 

Our journey lasted twenty days, during twelve of which we saw no land;the wind drove us too far east to see the Feroe or the Shetland Isles. Ishould have cared less for this, had I seen some of the monsters of thedeep instead, but we met with scarcely any of these amiable animals. Isaw the ray of water which a whale emitted from his nostrils, and whichexactly resembled a fountain; the animal itself was unfortunately too farfrom our ship for us to see its body. A shark came a little nearer; itswam round our vessel for a few moments, so that I could easily look athim: it must have been from sixteen to eighteen feet long. 

The so-called flying-fish afforded a pretty sight. The sea was as calmas a mirror, the evening mild and moonlight; and so we remained on decktill late, watching the gambols of these animals. As far as we couldsee, the water was covered with them. We could recognise the youngerfishes by their higher springs; they seemed to be three to four feetlong, and rose five to six feet above the surface of the sea. Theirleaping looked like an attempt at flying, but their gills did not do themgood service in the trial, and they fell back immediately. The old fishdid not seem to have the same elasticity; they only described a smallarch like the dolphins, and only rose so far above the water that wecould see the middle part of their body. 

These fish are not caught; they have little oil, and an unpleasant taste. 

On the thirteenth day we again saw land. We had entered the Skagerrak, and saw the peninsula of Jutland, with the town of Skaggen. Thepeninsula looks very dreary from this side; it is flat and covered withsand. 

On the sixteenth day we entered the Cattegat. For some time past we hadalways either been becalmed or had had contrary winds, and had beentossed about in the Skagerrak, the Cattegat, and the Sound for nearly aweek. On some days we scarcely made fifteen to twenty leagues a day. Onsuch calm days I passed the time with fishing; but the fish were wiseenough not to bite my hook. I was daily anticipating a dinner ofmackerel, but caught only one. 

The multitude of vessels sailing into the Cattegat afforded me moreamusement; I counted above seventy. The nearer we approached theentrance of the Sound, the more imposing was the sight, and the moreclosely were the vessels crowded together. Fortunately we were favouredby a bright moonlight; in a dark or stormy night we should not with thegreatest precaution and skill have been able to avoid a collision. 

The inhabitants of more southern regions have no idea of theextraordinary clearness and brilliancy of a northern moonlight night; itseems almost as if the moon had borrowed a portion of the sun's lustre. I have seen splendid nights on the coast of Asia, on the Mediterranean;but here, on the shores of Scandinavia, they were lighter and brighter. 

I remained on deck all night; for it pleased me to watch the forests ofmasts crowded together here, and endeavouring simultaneously to gain theentrance to the Sound. I should now be able to form a tolerable idea ofa fleet, for this number of ships must surely resemble a merchant-fleet. 

On the twentieth day of our journey we entered the port of Helsingor. The Sound dues have to be paid here, or, as the sailor calls it, the shipmust be cleared. This is a very tedious interruption, and the stoppingand restarting of the ship very incommodious. The sails have to befurled, the anchor cast, the boat lowered, and the captain proceeds onshore; hours sometimes elapse before he has finished. When he returns tothe ship, the boat has to be hoisted again, the anchor raised, and thesails unfurled. Sometimes the wind has changed in the mean time; and inconsequence of these formalities, the port of Copenhagen cannot bereached at the expected time. 

If a ship is unfortunate enough to reach Helsingor on a dark night, shemay not enter at all for fear of a collision. She has to anchor in theCattegat, and thus suffer two interruptions. If she arrives at Helsingorin the night before four o'clock, she has to wait, as the custom-house isnot opened till that time. 

The skipper is, however, at liberty to proceed direct to Copenhagen, butthis liberty costs five thalers (fifteen shillings). If, however, thetoll may thus be paid in Copenhagen just as easily, the obligation tostop at Helsingor is only a trick to gain the higher toll; for if acaptain is in haste, or the wind is too favourable to be lost, heforfeits the five thalers, and sails on to Copenhagen. 

Our captain cared neither for time nor trouble; he cleared the ship here, and so we did not reach Copenhagen until two o'clock in the afternoon. After my long absence, it seemed so familiar, so beautiful and grand, asif I had seen nothing so beautiful in my whole life. My readers mustbear in mind, however, where I came from, and how long I had beenimprisoned in a vessel in which I scarcely had space to move. When I putfoot on shore again, I could have imitated Columbus, and prostratedmyself to kiss the earth. 

DEPARTURE FROM COPENHAGEN. --CHRISTIANIA. 

On the 19th August, the day after my arrival from Iceland, at two o'clockin the afternoon, I had already embarked again; this time in the fineroyal Norwegian steamer _Christiania_, of 170 horsepower, bound for thetown of Christiania, distant 304 sea-miles from Copenhagen. We had soonpassed through the Sound and arrived safely in the Cattegat, in which westeered more to the right than on the journey to Iceland; for we not onlyintended to see Norway and Sweden, but to cast anchor on the coast. 

We could plainly see the fine chain of mountains which bound the Cattegaton the right, and whose extreme point, the Kulm, runs into the sea like along promontory. Lighthouses are erected here, and on the other numerousdangerous spots of the coast, and their lights shine all around in thedark night. Some of the lights are movable, and some stationary, andpoint out to the sailor which places to avoid. 

 August 20th. 

Bad weather is one of the greatest torments of a traveller, and is moredisagreeable when one passes through districts remarkable for beauty andoriginality. Both grievances were united to-day; it rained, almostincessantly; and yet the passage of the Swedish coast and of the littlefiord to the port of Gottenburg was of peculiar interest. The sea herewas more like a broad stream which is bounded by noble rocks, andinterspersed by small and large rocks and shoals, over which the watersdashed finely. Near the harbour, some buildings lie partly on and partlybetween the rocks; these contain the celebrated royal Swedishiron-foundry, called the new foundry. Even numerous American ships werelying here to load this metal. {46}

The steamer remains more than four hours in the port of Gottenburg, andwe had therefore time to go into the town, distant about two miles, andwhose suburbs extend as far as the port. On the landing-quay a captainlives who has always a carriage and two horses ready to drive travellersinto the town. There are also one-horse vehicles, and even an omnibus. The former were already engaged; the latter, we were told, drives soslowly, that nearly the whole time is lost on the road; so I and twotravelling companions hired the captain's carriage. The rain poured intorrents on our heads; but this did not disturb us much. My twocompanions had business to transact, and curiosity attracted me. I didnot at that time know that I should have occasion to visit this prettylittle town again, and would not leave without seeing it. 

The suburbs are built entirely of wood, and contain many pretty one-storyhouses, surrounded, for the most part, by little gardens. The situationof the suburbs is very peculiar. Rocks, or little fields and meadows, often lie between the houses; the rocks even now and then cross thestreets, and had to be blasted to form a road. The view from one of thehills over which the road to the town lies is truly beautiful. 

The town has two large squares: on the smaller one stands the largechurch; on the larger one the town-hall, the post-office, and many prettyhouses. In the town every thing is built of bricks. The river Ham flowsthrough the large square, and increases the traffic by the many ships andbarks running into it from the sea, and bringing provisions, butprincipally fuel, to market. Several bridges cross it. A visit to thewell-stocked fish-market is also an interesting feature in a short visitto this town. 

I entered a Swedish house for the first time here. I remarked that thefloor was strewed over with the fine points of the fir-trees, which hadan agreeable odour, a more healthy one probably than any artificialperfume. I found this custom prevalent all over Sweden and Norway, butonly in hotels and in the dwellings of the poorer classes. 

About eleven o'clock in the forenoon we continued our journey. Westeered safely through the many rocks and shoals, and soon reached theopen sea again. We did not stand out far from the shore, and saw severaltelegraphs erected on the rocks. We soon lost sight of Denmark on theleft, and arrived at the fortress Friedrichsver towards evening, butcould not see much of it. Here the so-called Scheren begin, which extendsixty leagues, and form the Christian's Sound. By what I could see inthe dim twilight, the scene was beautiful. Numerous islands, some merelyconsisting of bare rocks, others overgrown with slender pines, surroundedus on all sides. But our pilot understood his business perfectly, andsteered us safely through to Sandesund, spite of the dark night. Here weanchored, for it would have been too dangerous to proceed. We had towait here for the steamer from Bergen, which exchanged passengers withus. The sea was very rough, and this exchange was therefore extremelydifficult to effect. Neither of the steamers would lower a boat; at lastour steamer gave way, after midnight, and the terrified and wailingpassengers were lowered into it. I pitied them from my heart, butfortunately no accident happened. 

 August 21st

I could see the situation of Sandesund better by day; and found it toconsist only of a few houses. The water is so hemmed in here that itscarcely attains the breadth of a stream; but it soon widens again, andincreases in beauty and variety with every yard. We seemed to ride on abeautiful lake; for the islands lie so close to the mountains in thebackground, that they look like a continent, and the bays they form likethe mouths of rivers. The next moment the scene changes to a successionof lakes, one coming close on the other; and when the ship appears to behemmed in, a new opening is suddenly presented to the eye behind anotherisland. The islands themselves are of a most varied character: some onlyconsist of bare rocks, with now and then a pine; some are richly coveredwith fields and groves; and the shore presents so many fine scenes, thatone hardly knows where to look in order not to miss any of the beautiesof the scenery. Here are high mountains overgrown from the bottom to thesummit with dark pine-groves; there again lovely hills, with verdantmeadows, fertile fields, pretty farmsteads and yards; and on another sidethe mountains separate and form a beautiful perspective of precipices andvalleys. Sometimes I could follow the bend of a bay till it mingled withthe distant clouds; at others we passed the most beautiful valleys, dotted with little villages and towns. I cannot describe the beauties ofthe scenery in adequate terms: my words are too weak, and my knowledgetoo insignificant; and I can only give an idea of my emotions, but notdescribe them. 

Near Walloe the country grows less beautiful; the mountains decrease intohills, and the water is not studded with islands. The little town itselfis almost concealed behind the hills. A remarkable feature is the longrow of wooden huts and houses adjoining, which all belong to a salt-workestablished there. 

We entered one of the many little arms of the sea to reach the town ofMoss. Its situation is beautiful, being built amphi-theatrically on ahillock which leans against a high mountain. A fine building on thesea-shore, whose portico rests upon pillars, is used for a bathinginstitution. 

A dock-yard, in which men-of-war are built at the expense of the state, is situated near the town of Horten, which is also picturesquely placed. There does not seem to be much work doing here, for I only saw one shiplying at anchor, and none on the stocks. About eight leagues beyondHorten a mountain rises in the middle of the sea, and divides it into twostreams, uniting again beyond it, and forming a pretty view. 

We did not see Christiania till we were only ten leagues from it. Thetown, the suburbs, the fortress, the newly-erected royal palace, thefreemasons' lodge, &c. , lie in a semicircle round the port, and arebounded by fields, meadows, woods, and hills, forming a delightful_coup-d'oeil_. It seems as if the sea could not part from such a lovelyview, and runs in narrow streams, through hills and plains, to a greatdistance beyond the town. 

Towards eleven o'clock in the forenoon we reached the port ofChristiania. We had come from Sandesund in seven hours, and had stoppedfour times on the way; but the boats with new-comers, with merchandiseand letters, had always been ready, had been received, and we hadproceeded without any considerable delay. 

CHAPTER VIII

My first care on arriving in this town was to find a countrywoman of minewho had been married to a lawyer here. It is said of the Viennese thatthey cannot live away from their Stephen's steeple; but here was a proofof the contrary, for there are few couples living so happily as thesefriends, and yet they were nearly one thousand miles from St. Stephen'ssteeple. {47}

I passed through the whole town on the way from the quay to the hotel, and thence to my friend. The town is not large, and not very pretty. The newly-built portion is the best, for it at least has broad, tolerablylong streets, in which the houses are of brick, and sometimes large. Inthe by-streets I frequently found wooden barracks ready to fall. Thesquare is large, but irregular; and as it is used as a generalmarket-place, it is also very dirty. 

 [Picture: Christiania]

In the suburbs the houses are mostly built of wood. There are somerather pretty public buildings; the finest among them are the royalcastle and the fortress. They are built on little elevations, and afforda beautiful view. The old royal palace is in the town, but not at alldistinguishable from a common private house. The house in which theStorthing {48} assembles is large, and its portico rests on pillars; butthe steps are of wood, as in all stone houses in Scandinavia. Thetheatre seemed large enough for the population; but I did not enter it. The freemasons' lodge is one of the most beautiful buildings in the town;it contains two large saloons, which are used for assemblies orfestivities of various kinds, besides serving as the meeting-place of thefreemasons. The university seemed almost too richly built; it is notfinished yet, but is so beautiful that it would be an ornament to thelargest capital. The butchers' market is also very pretty. It is of asemi-circular shape, and is surrounded by arched passages, in which thebuyers stand, sheltered from the weather. The whole edifice is built ofbricks, left in their natural state, neither stuccoed with mortar norwhitewashed. There are not many other palaces or fine public buildings, and most of the houses are one-storied. 

One of the features of the place--a custom which is of great use to thetraveller, and prevails in all Scandinavian towns--is, that the names ofthe streets are affixed at every corner, so that the passer-by alwaysknows where he is, without the necessity of asking his way. 

Open canals run through the town; and on such nights as the almanacannounces a full or bright moon the streets are not lighted. 

Wooden quays surround the harbour, on which several large warehouses, likewise built of wood, are situated; but, like most of the houses, theyare roofed with tiles. 

The arrangement and display of the stores are simple, and the wares verybeautiful, though not of home manufacture. Very few factories existhere, and every thing has to be imported. 

I was much shocked at the raggedly-clad people I met every where in thestreets; the young men especially looked very ragged. They rarelybegged; but I should not have been pleased to meet them alone in aretired street. 

I was fortunate enough to be in Christiania at the time when theStorthing was sitting. This takes place every three years; the sessionscommence in January or February, and usually last three months; but somuch business had this time accumulated, that the king proposed to extendthe length of the session. To this fortunate accident I owed thepleasure of witnessing some of the meetings. The king was expected toclose the proceedings in September. {49}

The hall of meeting is long and large. Four rows of tapestried seats, one rising above the other, run lengthways along the hall, and affordroom for eighty legislators. Opposite the benches a table stands on araised platform, and at this table the president and secretary sit. Agallery, which is open to the public, runs round the upper portion of thehall. 

Although I understood but little of the Norwegian language, I attendedthe meetings daily for an hour. I could at least distinguish whetherlong or short speeches were made, or whether the orator spoke fluently. Unfortunately, the speakers I heard spoke the few words they musteredcourage to deliver so slowly and hesitatingly, that I could not form avery favourable idea of Norwegian eloquence. I was told that theStorthing only contained three or four good speakers, and they did notdisplay their talents during my stay. 

I have never seen such a variety of carriages as I met with here. Thecommonest and most incommodious are called Carriols. A carriol consistsof a narrow, long, open box, resting between two immensely high wheels, and provided with a very small seat. You are squeezed into thiscontrivance, and have to stretch your feet forward. You are then buckledin with a leather apron as high as the hips, and must remain in thisposition, without moving a limb, from the beginning to the end of yourride. A board is hung on behind the box for the coachman; and from thisperch he, in a kneeling or standing position, directs the horses, unlessthe temporary resident of the box should prefer to take the reinshimself. As it is very unpleasant to hear the quivering of the reins onone side and the smacking of the whip on the other, every one, men andwomen, can drive. Besides these carriols, there are phaetons, droschkas, but no closed vehicles. 

The carts which are used for the transport of beer are of a very peculiarconstruction. The consumption of beer in Christiania is very great, andit is at once bottled when made, and not sold in casks. The carts forthe transport of these bottles consist of roomy covered boxes a foot anda half high, which are divided into partitions like a cellaret, in whichmany bottles can be easily and safely transported from one part toanother. 

Another species of basket, which the servants use to carry such articlesas are damp or dirty, and which my readers will excuse my describing, ismade of fine white tin, and provided with a handle. Straw baskets areonly used for bread, and for dry and clean provisions. 

There are no public gardens or assemblies in Christiania, but numerouspromenades; indeed, every road from the town leads to the most beautifulscenery, and every hill in the neighbourhood affords the most delightfulprospects. 

Ladegardoen is the only spot which is often resorted to by the citizensby carriage or on foot. It affords many and splendid views of the seaand its islands, of the surrounding mountains, valleys, and pine and firgroves. The majority of the country-houses are built here. They aregenerally small, but pretty, and surrounded by flower-gardens andorchards. While there, I seemed to be far in the south, so green andverdant was the scenery. The corn-fields alone betrayed the north. Notthat the corn was poor; on the contrary, I found many ears bending to theground under their weight; but now, towards the end of August, most of itwas standing uncut in the fields. 

Near the town stands a pine-grove, from which one has splendid views; twomonuments are raised in it, but neither of them are of importance: one israised to the memory of a crown-prince of Sweden, Christian Augustus; theother to Count Hermann Wenel Jarlsberg. 

JOURNEY TO DELEMARKEN. 

All I had hitherto seen in Norway had gratified me so much, that I couldnot resist the temptation of a journey to the wildly romantic regions ofDelemarken. I was indeed told that it would be a difficult undertakingfor a female, alone and almost entirely ignorant of the language, to makeher way through the peasantry. But I found no one to accompany me, andwas determined to go; so I trusted to fate, and went alone. 

According to the inquires I had instituted in respect to this journey, Ianticipated that my greatest difficulties would arise from the absence ofall institutions for the speedy and comfortable progress of travellers. One is forced to possess a carriage, and to hire horses at every station. It is sometimes possible to hire a vehicle, but this generally consistsonly of a miserable peasant's cart. I hired, therefore, a carriol forthe whole journey, and a horse to the next station, the townlet ofDrammen, distant about twenty-four miles. 

On the 25th August, at three o'clock in the afternoon, I leftChristiania, squeezed myself into my carriage, and, following the exampleof Norwegian dames, I seized the reins. I drove as if I had been used toit from infancy. I turned right and left, and my horse galloped andtrotted gaily on. 

The road to Drammen is exquisite, and would afford rich subjects for anartist. All the beauties of nature are here combined in most perfectharmony. The richness and variety of the scenery are almost oppressive, and would be an inexhaustible subject for the painter. The vegetation ismuch richer than I had hoped to find it so far north; every hill, everyrock, is shaded by verdant foliage; the green of the meadows was ofincomparable freshness; the grass was intermingled with flowers andherbs, and the corn-fields bent under their golden weight. 

I have been in many countries, and have seen beautiful districts; I havebeen in Switzerland, in Tyrol, in Italy, and in Salzburg; but I never sawsuch peculiarly beautiful scenery as I found here: the sea every whereintruding and following us to Drammen; here forming a lovely lake onwhich boats were rocking, there a stream rushing through hills andmeadows; and then again, the splendid expanse dotted with proudthree-masters and with countless islets. After a five hours' ridethrough rich valleys and splendid groves, I reached the town of Drammen, which lies on the shores of the sea and the river Storri Elf, and whosevicinity was announced by the beautiful country-houses ornamenting theapproach to it. 

A long, well-built wooden bridge, furnished with beautiful ironpalisadings, leads over the river. The town of Drammen has prettystreets and houses, and above 6000 inhabitants. The hotel where I lodgedwas pretty and clean. My bedroom was a large room, with which the mostfastidious might have been contented. The supper which they provided forme was, however, most frugal, consisting only of soft-boiled eggs. Theygave me neither salt nor bread with them, nor a spoon; nothing but aknife and fork. And it is a mystery to me how soft eggs can be eatenwithout bread, and with a knife and fork. 

 August 25th. 

I hired a fresh horse here, with which I proceeded to Kongsberg, eighteenmiles farther. The first seven miles afforded a repetition of theromantic scenery of the previous day, with the exception of the sea. Butinstead I had the beautiful river, until I had ascended a hill, fromwhose summit I overlooked a large and apparently populous valley, filledwith groups of houses and single farms. It is strange that there arevery few large towns in Norway; every peasant builds his house in themidst of his fields. 

Beyond this hill the scenery grows more monotonous. The mountains arelower, the valley narrower, and the road is enclosed by wood or rocks. One peculiarity of Norwegian rocks is their humidity. The waterpenetrates through countless fissures, but only in such small quantitiesas to cover the stones with a kind of veil. When the sun shines on thesewet surfaces of rock, of which there are many and large ones, they shinelike mirrors. 

Delemarken seems to be tolerably populous. I often met with solitarypeasant-huts in the large gloomy forests, and they gave some life to themonotonous landscape. The industry of the Norwegian peasant is verygreat; for every spot of earth, even on the steepest precipices, borepotatoes, barley, or oats; their houses also look cheerful, and werepainted for the most part of a brick-red colour. 

I found the roads very good, especially the one from Christiania toDrammen; and the one from Drammen to Kongsberg was not veryobjectionable. There is such an abundance of wood in Norway, that thestreets on each side are fenced by wooden enclosures; and every field andmeadow is similarly protected against the intrusion of cattle, and themiserable roads through the woods are even covered with round trunks oftrees. 

The peasantry in this district have no peculiar costume; only thehead-covering of the females is curious. They wear a lady's hat, such aswas fashionable in the last century, ornamented with a bunch behind, andwith an immense shade in front. They are made of any material, generallyof the remains of old garments; and only on Sundays better ones, andsometimes even silk ones, make their appearance. 

In the neighbourhood of Kongsberg this head-dress is no longer worn. There they wear little caps like the Suabian peasantry, petticoatscommencing under the shoulders, and very short spencers: a very uglycostume, the whole figure being spoilt by the short waist. 

The town of Kongsberg is rather extended, and is beautifully situated ona hill in the centre of a splendid wooded valley. It is, like all thetowns in Norway except Christiania, built of wood; but it has manypretty, neat houses and some broad streets. 

The stream Storri Elf flows past the town, and forms a small but verypicturesque waterfall a little below the bridge. What pleased me mostwas the colour of the water as it surged over the rock. It was aboutnoon as I drove across the bridge; the sun illuminated the whole countryaround, and the waves breaking against the rocks seemed by this light ofa beautiful pale-yellow colour, so that they resembled thick masses ofpure transparent amber. 

Two remarkable sights claimed my attention at Kongsberg, --a richsilver-mine, and a splendid waterfall called the Labrafoss. But as mytime was limited and I could only remain a few hours in Kongsberg, Ipreferred to see the waterfall and believe the accounts of thesilver-mine; which were, that the deepest shaft was eight hundred feetbelow the surface, and that it was most difficult to remain there, as thecold, the smoke, and the powder-smell had a very noxious effect on thetraveller accustomed to light and air. 

I therefore hired a horse and drove to the fall, which is situated in anarrow pass about four miles from Kongsberg. The river collects in aquiet calm basin a little distance above the fall, and then rushes overthe steep precipice with a sudden bound. The considerable depth of thefall and the quality of water make it a very imposing sight. This isincreased by a gigantic rock planted like a wall in the lower basin, andopposing its body to the progress of the hurrying waters. The wavesrebound from the rock, and, collecting in mighty masses, rush over it, forming several smaller waterfalls in their course. 

I watched it from a high rock, and was nevertheless covered by the sprayto such a degree, that I sometimes could scarcely open my eyes. My guidethen took me to the lower part of the fall, so that I might have a viewof it from all sides; and each view seemed different and more splendid. I perceived the same yellow transparent colour which I had remarked inthe fall at Kongsberg in the waters which dashed over the rock and wereilluminated by the sun. I imagine it arises from the rock, which isevery where of a brownish-red colour, for the water itself was clear andpure. 

At four o'clock in the afternoon I left Kongsberg, and drove to Bolkesoe, a distance of eighteen miles. It was by no means a beautiful or anagreeable drive; for the road was very bad, and took me through passesand valleys, across woods and over steep mountains, while the night wasdark and unilluminated by the moon. The thought involuntarily entered mymind, how easily my guide, who sat close behind me on the vehicle, couldput me out of the world by a gentle blow, and take possession of myeffects. But I had confidence in the upright character of theNorwegians, and drove on quietly, devoting my attention entirely to thereins of my little steed, which I had to lead with a sure hand over hilland valley, over ruts and stones, and along precipices. I heard no soundbut the rushing of the mountain-river, which leaped, close beside us, over the rocks, and was heard rushing in the far distance. 

We did not arrive at Bolkesoe until ten o'clock at night. When westopped before an insignificant-looking peasant's cot, and I rememberedmy Icelandic night-accommodations, whose exterior this resembled, mycourage failed me; but I was agreeably disappointed when the peasant'swife led me up a broad staircase into a large clean chamber furnishedwith several good beds, some benches, a table, a box, and an iron stove. I found equal comforts on all the stations of my journey. 

There are no proper hotels or posthouses on the little-frequentedNorwegian roads; but the wealthy peasants undertake the duties of both. I would, however, advise every traveller to provide himself with breadand other provisions for the trip; for his peasant-host rarely canfurnish him with these. His cows are on the hills during the summer;fowls are far too great a luxury for him; and his bread is scarcelyeatable: it consists of large round cakes, scarcely half an inch thick, and very hard; or of equally large cakes scarcely as thick as a knife, and quite dry. The only eatables I found were fish and potatoes; andwhenever I could stay for several hours, they fetched milk for me fromthe hills. 

The travelling conveniences are still more unattainable; but these I willmention in a future chapter, when my experience will be a little moreextensive. 

 August 26th. 

I could not see the situation of the town of Bolkesoe till daylightto-day, for when I arrived the darkness of night concealed it. It issituated in a pretty wooded vale, on a little hill at whose foot lies abeautiful lake of the same name. 

The road from here to Tindosoe, about sixteen miles, is not practicablefor vehicles, and I therefore left my carriol here and proceeded onhorseback. The country grows more quiet and uninhabited, and the valleysbecome real chasms. Two lakes of considerable size form an agreeablevariety to the wildness of the scenery. The larger one, called theFoelsoe, is of a regular form, and above two miles in diameter; it isencircled by picturesque mountains. The effect of the shadows which thepine-covered mountain-tops throw on the lakes is particularly attractive. I rode along its shores for more than an hour, and had leisure to see andexamine every thing very accurately, for the horses here travel at a veryslow pace. The reason of this is partly that the guide has no horse, andwalks beside you in a very sleepy manner; the horse knows its master'speculiarities by long experience, and is only too willing to encouragehim in his slow, dull pace. I spent more than five hours in reachingTindosoe. My next object of interest was the celebrated waterfall ofRykanfoss, to reach which we had to cross a large lake. Although it hadrained incessantly for an hour, and the sky looked threatening, I at oncehired a boat with two rowers to continue my journey without interruption;for I anticipated a storm, and then I should not have found a boatman whowould have ventured a voyage of four or five hours on this dangerouslake. In two hours my boat was ready, and I started in the pouring rain, but rejoiced at least at the absence of fog, which would have concealedthe beauties of nature which surrounded me. The lake is eighteen mileslong, but in many parts only from two to three miles wide. It issurrounded by mountains, which rise in terraces without the least gap toadmit a distant view. As the mountains are nearly all covered with darkfir-groves, and overshadow the whole breadth of the narrow lake, thewater seems quite dark, and almost black. This lake is dangerous tonavigate on account of the many rocks rising perpendicularly out of thewater, which, in a storm, shatter a boat dashed against them to pieces, and the passengers would find an inevitable grave in the deep waters. Wehad a flesh and a favourable breeze, which blew us quickly to ourdestination. One of the rocks on the coast has a very loud echo. 

An island about a mile long divides the lake into equal parts; and whenwe had passed it, the landscape became quite peculiar. The mountainsseemed to push before each other, and try whose foot should extendfarthest into the sea. This forms numerous lovely bays; but few of themare adapted for landing, as the dangerous rocks seem to project everywhere. 

The little dots of field and meadow which seem to hang against the rock, and the modest cottages of the peasants, which are built on the points ofthe most dangerous precipices, and over which rocks and stones tower asmountains, present a very curious appearance. The most fearful rockshang over the huts, and threaten to crush them by falling, which wouldinevitably carry cottage and field with them into the sea. It isdifficult to say whether the boldness or the stupidity of the peasantsinduces them to choose such localities for their dwellings. 

From the mountains many rivers flow into the lake, and form beautifulfalls. This might only have been the case at that time, because it wasraining incessantly, and the water poured down from all sides, so thatthe mountains seemed embroidered with silver threads. It was a beautifulsight; but I would willingly have relinquished it for a day of sunshine. It is no trifle to be exposed to such a shower-bath from morning tillnight; I was wet through, and had no hope for better weather, as the skywas clouded all round. My perseverance was nearly exhausted; and I wason the point of relinquishing the purpose of my journey, --the sight ofthe highest Norwegian waterfall, --when it occurred to me that the badweather was most favourable for my plan, as each drop of water wouldincrease the splendour of the waterfall. 

After three hours and a half's rowing we reached Haukaness-am-See, whereit is usual to stop a night as there is a pretty farm here, and thedistance from the fall is still considerable. 

 August 27th. 

My first care in the morning was the weather; it was unchanged, and theexperienced peasants prophesied that it would remain wet. As I would notreturn nor wait for better weather, I could only take to my boat again, put on my half-dried cloak, and row on boldly. 

The termination of the lake, which we soon reached, was alreadysufficient to compensate for my perseverance. A high mountain advancesinto the lake, and divides it into two beautiful bays. We entered theleft bay, and landed at Mael, which lies at the mouth of the riverRykaness. The distance from Haukaness is a little more than two miles. I had to mount a horse to reach the waterfall, which was yet eleven milesdistant. The road runs through a narrow valley, which gradually narrowsstill more until it can only contain the river; and the traveller isobliged to ascend the heights and grope on along the sides of themountains. Below in the vale he sees the foam of the waves surgingagainst the rocks; they flow like a narrow band of silver in the deepchasm. Sometimes the path is so high that one neither sees nor hears theriver. The last half mile has to be journeyed on foot, and goes pastspots which are really dangerous; numerous waterfalls rush from themountain-sides, and have to be crossed on paths of tree-trunks laidalongside each other; and roads scarcely a foot wide lead along giddyprecipices. But the traveller may trust unhesitatingly to his guide'sarm, who has hitherto led every one in safety to his destination. 

The road from Haukaness to the waterfall must be the finest that can beimagined on a bright sunny day; for I was enchanted with thewildly-romantic scenery in spite of the incessant rain and my wetclothes, and would on no consideration have missed this sight. Unfortunately the bad weather increased, and thick fogs rolled down intothe valleys. The water flowed down from the mountains, and transformedour narrow path into a brook, through which we had to wade ankle-deep inwater. At last we reached the spot which afforded the best view of thefall. It was yet free from mist, and I could still admire theextraordinary beauty of the fall and its quantity of water. I saw theimmense mountain-rock which closes the valley, the tremendous pillar ofwater which dashes over it, and rebounds from the rock projecting in thecentre of the fall, filling the whole valley with clouds of spray, andconcealing the depth to which it descends. I saw this, one of the rarestand of the most magnificent of natural beauties; but alas, I saw it onlyfor a moment, and had scarcely time to recover from the surprise of thefirst view when I lost it for ever! I was not destined to see the singlegrandeurs of the fall and of the surrounding scenery, and was fain to becontent with one look, one glance. Impenetrable mists rolled from allsides into the wild glen, and shrouded every thing in complete darkness;I sat on a piece of rock, and gazed for two hours stedfastly at the spotwhere a faint outline of the fall was scarcely distinguishable throughthe mist sometimes this faint trace even was lost, and I could perceiveits vicinity only by the dreadful sounds of the fall, and by thetrembling of the rock beneath my feet. 

After I had gazed, and hoped, and raised my eyes entreatingly to heavenfor a single ray of sunshine, all in vain, I had at last to determine onmy return. I left my post almost with tears in my eyes, and turned myhead more backwards than forwards as we left the spot. At the leastindication of a clearing away of the fog I should have returned. 

But I retired farther and farther from it till I reached Mael again, where I sadly entered my boat, and proceeded uninterruptedly to Tindosoe. I arrived there towards ten o'clock at night. The wet, the cold, thewant of food, and, above all, the depressed and disappointed state of mymind, had so affected me, that I went to bed with a slight attack offever, and feared that I should not be able to continue my journey on thefollowing day. But my strong constitution triumphed over every thing, and at five o'clock in the morning I was ready to continue my journey toBolkesoe on horseback. 

I was obliged to hurry for fear of missing the departure of the steamerfrom Christiania. The journey to Delemarken had been represented to meas much shorter than I found it in reality; for the constant waiting forhorses, boats, guides, &c. Takes up very much time. 

 August 28th. 

I had ordered my horse to be ready at five o'clock, but was obliged towait for it until seven o'clock. 

Although I made only a short trip into the interior, I had sufficientopportunities for experiencing the extortions and inconveniences to whicha traveller is liable in Norway. No country in Europe is so much in itsinfancy as regards all conveniences for locomotion. It is true thathorses, carriages, boats, &c. Can be had at every station, and the lawhas fixed the price of these commodities; but every thing is in the handsof the peasants and the publicans, and they are so skilled in tormentingthe traveller by their intentional slowness, that he is compelled to paythe two-fold tax, in order to proceed a little more quickly. Thestations are short, being rarely above five or six miles, and one istherefore constantly changing horses. Arrived at a station, it eitherhappens that there is really no horse to be had, or that this is anostensible excuse. The traveller is told that the horse has to befetched from the mountain, and that he can be served in one and a half ortwo hours. Thus he rides one hour, and waits two. It is also necessaryto keep the tariff, as every trifle, the saddle, the carriage, theharness, fetching the horse, the boat, &c. , has to be paid for extra; andwhen the traveller does not know the fixed prices, he is certain to bedreadfully imposed upon. At every station a book lies, containing thelegal prices; but it is written in the language of the district, andutterly unintelligible to the stranger. Into this book, which isexamined by the judge of the district every month, one may entercomplaints against the peasant or publican; but they do not seem to fearit, for the guide who accompanied me to the fall of Rykanfoss endeavouredto cheat me twice in the most barefaced manner, by charging me six-foldfor the use of the saddles and the fetching of the horse. When Ithreatened to inscribe my complaint in the book, he seemed not to care, and insisted on his demand, till I was obliged to pay him. On my returnto Mael, I kept my word, asked for the book, and entered my complaint, although I was alone with all the peasants. It was not so much the moneywhich annoyed me, as the shameless imposition. I am of opinion thatevery one should complain when he is wronged; if it does not benefit him, it will make the matter more easy for his successor. 

I must confess, in justice to the peasants, that they were very indignantwhen I told them of the dishonesty of their countryman, and did notattempt to prevent my complaint. 

To conclude my journey, I need only remark that, although the rain hadceased, the sky was still covered with clouds, and the country shroudedin mist. I therefore took the shorter road to Christiania, by which Ihad come, although I thereby missed a beautiful district, where I should, as I was told, have seen the most splendid perspective views in Norway. This would have been on the road from Kongsberg over Kroxleben toChristiania. The finest part is near Kroxleben. 

But the time was too short to take this round, and I returned by way ofDrammen. In the village of Muni, about five miles from Kongsberg, whereI arrived at seven o'clock in the evening, the amiable host wished tokeep me waiting again two hours for a horse; and as this would probablyhave happened at every station, I was obliged to hire a horse for thewhole distance to Christiania, at a threefold price. I slept here for afew hours, left in the night at one o'clock, and arrived at Christianiathe following afternoon at two. 

On this journey I found all those people very kind and obliging with whomI came into no sort of pecuniary relation; but the hosts, the boatmen, the drivers, the guides, were as selfish and grasping as in any othercountry. I believe that kindness and disinterestedness would only befound in any district by him who has the good fortune to be the firsttraveller. 

This little excursion was very dear; and yet I think I could now travelcheaply even in this country, universally acknowledged to be dear. Iwould go with the steamer along the coast to Hammerfest, buy a littlevehicle and a good horse there, and then travel pleasantly, and withoutannoyance, through the whole country. But for a family who wished totravel in a comfortable covered carriage, it would be incalculably dear, and in many parts impossible, on account of the bad roads. 

The Norwegian peasantry are strong and robust, but their features are notthe most comely, and they seemed neither wealthy nor cleanly. They weregenerally very poorly clad, and always barefooted. Their cottages, builtof wood and covered with tiles, are more roomy than those of theIcelanders; but they are nevertheless dirty and wretched. A weakness ofthe Norwegians is their fondness for coffee, which they drink withoutmilk or sugar. The old women, as well as the men, smoke their pipesmorning and night. 

 Miles. From Christiania to Kongsberg is 41aboutFrom Kongsberg to the waterfall 5LabrafossFrom Kongsberg to Bolkosoe 14From Bolkosoe to Tindosoe 16From Tindosoe across the lake to 16MaelFrom Mael to the waterfall 11Rykanfoss 103CHAPTER IX

 August 30th. 

At seven o'clock this morning I left Christiania, accompanied by the goodwishes of my countrywoman and her husband, and went back to Gottenburg bythe same steamer which had brought me thence ten days before. I needonly mention the splendid view of a portion of Christian's Sound--alsocalled Fiord--which I lost on the former journey from the darkness of thenight. We passed it in the afternoon. The situation of the little townof Lauervig is superb. It is built on a natural terrace, bordered in thebackground by beautiful mountains. In front, the fortress ofFriedrichsver lies on a mountain surrounded by rocks, on which littlewatch-towers are erected; to the left lies the vast expanse of sea. 

We were delayed an hour at Friedrichsver to transfer the travellers forBergen {50} to a vessel waiting for them, as we had stopped on ourprevious journey at Sandesund for the same purpose. 

This is the last view in the fiord; for now we steered into the open sea, and in a few hours we had lost sight of land. We saw nothing but landand water till we arrived the next morning at the Scheren, and steeredfor Gottenburg. 

 August 31st. 

The sea had been rough all night, and we therefore reached Gottenburgthree hours later than usual. In this agitated sea, the surging of thebreakers against the many rocks and islets near Gottenburg has a verycurious effect. 

The few travellers who could keep on their feet, who did not suffer fromsea-sickness, and remained on deck, spoke much of the dangerous storm. Ihad frequently marvelled to hear people who had made a journey, if itwere even only a short one of forty to sixty leagues, relate of somefearful storm they had witnessed. Now I comprehended the reason, when Iheard the travellers beside me call the brisk breeze, which onlyoccasioned what seamen call a little swell, a dreadful storm; and theywill probably tell at home of the dangers they have passed. Storms are, fortunately, not so frequent. I have travelled many thousand leagues, and have often met with stormy weather, especially on the passage fromCopenhagen to Iceland; but I only experienced one real storm, but aviolent and dangerous one, as I was crossing the Black Sea toConstantinople in April 1842. 

We arrived at Gottenburg at nine instead of at six o'clock in themorning. I landed at once, to make the celebrated trip through thelocks, over the waterfalls of Trollhatta, with the next Stockholmsteamer. By the junction of the river Gotha with some of the interiorlakes, this great construction crosses the whole country, and connectsthe North Sea with the Baltic. 

I found the town of Gottenburg very animated, on account of the presenceof the king of Sweden, who was spending a few days here on his way toChristiania to prorogue the Storthing. I arrived on a Sunday, and theking, with his son, were in the church. The streets swarmed with humanbeings, all crowding towards the cathedral to catch a glimpse of hismajesty on his departure. I, of course, mingled with the crowd, and wasfortunate enough to see the king and prince come out of the church, entertheir carriage, and drive away very near to me. Both were handsome, amiable-looking men. The people rushed after the carriage, and eagerlycaught the friendly bows of the intelligent father and his hopeful son;they followed him to his palace, and stationed themselves in front of it, impatiently longing for the moment when the royal pair would appear at awindow. 

I could not have arrived at a more favourable time; for every one was inholiday attire, and the military, the clergy, the officials, citizens andpeople, were all exerting themselves to the utmost to do honour to theirking. 

I noticed two peasant-girls among the crowd who were peculiarly dressed. They wore black petticoats reaching half way down the calf of the leg, red stockings, red spensers, and white chemises, with long white sleeves;a kerchief was tied round the head. Some of the citizens' wives worecaps like the Suabian caps, covered by a little black, embroidered veil, which, however, left the face free. 

Here, as in Copenhagen, I noticed boys of ten to twelve years of ageamong the drummers, and in the bands of the military. 

The king remained this day and the next in Gottenburg, and continued hisjourney on the Tuesday. On the two evenings of his stay the windows inthe town were ornamented with wreaths of fresh flowers, interspersed withlighted tapers. Some houses displayed transparencies, which, however, did not place the inventive powers of the amiable Gottenburgers in a veryfavourable light. They were all alike, consisting of a tremendous O(Oscar), surmounted by a royal crown. 

I was detained four days in Gottenburg; and small consideration seems tobe paid to the speedy transport of travellers in Sweden. The steamer forStockholm started on the day I arrived from Christiania, butunfortunately at five o'clock in the morning; and as in the month ofSeptember only two steamers go in the week to Stockholm, I was compelledto wait till Thursday. The time hung heavily on my hands; for I had seenthe town itself, and the splendid views on the hills between the suburbs, during my former visit to the town, and the other portions only consistedof bare rocks and cliffs, which were of no interest. 

 September 4th. 

The press of travellers was so great this time, that two days before thedeparture the cabins were all engaged; several ladies and gentlemen whowould not wait for the next steamer were compelled to be satisfied withthe deck, and I was among them; for the probability of such a crowd ofpassengers had not occurred to me, and I applied for a place only twodays before our departure. During the journey fresh passengers weretaken in at every station, and the reader may conceive the misery of thepoor citizens unused to such hardships. Every one sought a shelter forthe night, and the little cabins of the engineer and steersman were givenup to some, while others crept into the passages, or squatted down on thesteps of the stairs leading to the cabins. A place was offered to me inthe engineer's cabin; but as three or four other persons were to sharethe apartment calculated only for one person, I preferred to bivouacnight and day upon deck. One of the gentlemen was kind enough to lend mea thick cloak, in which I could wrap myself; and so I slept much morecomfortably under the high canopy of heaven than my companions did intheir sweating-room. 

The arrangements in the vessels navigating the Gotha canal are by nomeans the best. The first class is very comfortable, and the cabin-placeis divided into pretty light divisions for two persons; but the secondclass is all the more uncomfortable: its cabin is used for a commondining-room by day, and by night hammocks are slung up in it for sleepingaccommodation. The arrangements for the luggage are worse still. Thecanal-boats, having only a very small hold, trunks, boxes, portmanteaus, &c. Are heaped up on the deck, not fastened at all, and veryinsufficiently protected against rain. The consequence of thiscarelessness on a journey of five or six days was, that the rain and thehigh waves of the lakes frequently put the after-deck several inchesunder water, and then the luggage was wetted through. It was worse stillin a squall on the Wenner lake; for while the ship was rather roughlytossed about, many a trunk lost its equilibrium and fell from its highposition, frequently endangering the safety of the passengers' heads. The fares are, however, very cheap, which seemed doubly strange, as themany locks must cause considerable expense. 

And now for the journey itself. We started at five o'clock in themorning, and soon arrived in the river Gotha, whose shores for the firstfew miles are flat and bare. The valley itself is bounded by bare, rockyhills. After about nine miles we came to the town of Kongelf, which issaid to have 1000 inhabitants. It is so situated among rocks, that it isalmost hidden from view. On a rock opposite the town are the ruins ofthe fortress Bogus. Now the scenery begins to be a little morediversified, and forests are mingled with the bleak rocks; little valleysappear on both the shores; and the river itself, here divided by anislet, frequently expands to a considerable breadth. The peasants'cottages were larger and better than those in Norway; they are generallypainted brick-red, and are often built in groups. 

The first lock is at Lilla Edet: there are five here; and while the shippasses through them, the passengers have leisure to admire the contiguouslow, but broad and voluminous fall of the Gotha. 

This first batch of locks in the canal extends over some distance pastthe fall, and they are partly blasted out of the rock, or built of stone. The river past Akestron flows as through a beautiful park; the valley ishemmed in by fertile hills, and leaves space only for the stream and somepicturesque paths winding along its shores, and through the pine-grovesdescending to its banks. 

In the afternoon we arrived at the celebrated locks near Trollhatta. They are of gigantic construction, which the largest states would behonoured in completing, and which occasion surprise when found in acountry ranking high neither in extent nor in influence. There areeleven locks here, which rise 112 feet in a space of 3500 feet. They arebroad, deep, blasted out of the rock, and walled round with finefreestone. They resemble the single steps of a giant's staircase; and bythis name they might fitly rank as one of the wonders of the world. Locksucceeds lock, mighty gates close them, and the large vessel risesmiraculously to the giddy heights in a wildly romantic country. 

 [Picture: Falls of Trollhatta]

Scarcely arrived at the locks, the traveller is surrounded by a crowd ofboys, who offer their services as guides to the waterfalls nearTrollhatta. There is abundance of time for this excursion; for thepassage of the ship through the many locks occupies three to four hours, and the excursion can be made in half the time. Before starting, it is, however, advisable to climb the rock to which the locks ascend. Apavilion is erected on its summit, and the view from it down over all thelocks is exceedingly fine. 

Pretty paths hewn out of the wood lead to Trollhatta, which is charminglysituated in a lovely valley, surrounded by woods and hills, on the shoreof a river, whose white foaming waves contrast strongly with the darkfoliage of the overshadowing groves. The canal, which describes a largesemicircle round the chief stream, glitters in the distance; but thehighest locks are quite concealed behind rocks; we could neither observethe opening of the gates nor the rising of the water in them, and weretherefore surprised when suddenly the masts and then the ship itself rosefrom the depth. An invisible hand seemed to raise it up between therocks. 

The falls of the river are less distinguished for their height than fortheir diversity and their volumes of water. The principal arm of theriver is divided at the point of decline into two equal falls by a littleisland of rock. A long narrow suspension-bridge leads to this island, and hangs over the fall; but it is such a weak, frail construction, thatone person only can cross it at a time. The owner of this dangerous pathkeeps it private, and imposes a toll of about 3. 5d. On all passengers. 

A peculiar sensation oppresses the traveller crossing the slender path. He sees the stream tearing onwards, breaking itself on the projectingrock, and fall surging into the abyss; he sees the boiling waves beneath, and feels the bridge vibrate at every footstep, and timidly hastens toreach the island, not taking breath to look around until he has foundfooting; on the firm island. A solid rock projects a little over thefall, and affords him a safe position, whence he sees not only the twofalls on either side, but also several others formed above and below hispoint of view. The scene is so enchanting, that it is difficult to tearoneself away. 

Beyond Trollhatta the river expands almost to a lake, and is separatedinto many arms by the numerous islands. The shores lose their beauty, being flat and uninteresting. 

We unfortunately did not reach the splendid Wennersee, which is fromforty-five to sixty-five miles long, and proportionally broad, untilevening, when it was already too dark to admire the scenery. Our shipremained some hours before the insignificant village Wennersborg. 

We had met six or seven steamers on our journey, which all belonged toSwedish or Norwegian merchants; and it afforded us a peculiarlyinteresting sight to see these ships ascend and descend in the highlocks. 

 September 5th. 

As we were leaving Wennersborg late on the previous night, and werecruising about the sea, a contrary wind, or rather a squall, arose, whichwould have signified little to a good vessel, but to which our small shipwas not equal. The poor captain tried in vain to navigate the steameracross the lake; he was at last compelled to give up the attempt, toreturn and to cast anchor. We lost our boat during this storm; a highwave dashed over the deck and swept it away: it had probably been as wellfastened as our boxes and trunks. 

Though it was but nine o'clock in the morning, our captain declared thathe could not proceed during the day, but that if the weather became morefavourable, he would start again about midnight. Fortunately afishing-boat ventured to come alongside, and some of the passengerslanded. I was among them, and made use of this opportunity to visit somecottages lying at the edge of a wood near the lake. They were verysmall, but consisted of two chambers, which contained several beds andother furniture; the people were also somewhat better clad than theNorwegians. Their food too was not so unpalatable; they boiled a thickmess of coarse black flour, which was eaten with sweet milk. 

 September 6th. 

We raised anchor at one o'clock in the morning, and in about five hoursarrived at the island Eken, which consists entirely of rock, and issurrounded by a multitude of smaller islets and cliffs. This is one ofthe most important stations in the lake. A large wooden warehouse standson the shore, and in it is stored the merchandise of the vicinityintended for export; and in return it receives the cargo from the ships. There are always several vessels lying at anchor here. 

We had now to wind through a cluster of islands, till we again reachedthe open lake, which, however, was only remarkable for its size. Itsshores are bare and monotonous, and only dotted here and there with woodsor low hills; the distant view even is not at all noteworthy. One of thefinest views is the tolerably large castle of Leko, which lies on a rock, and is surrounded by fertile groves. 

Further off rises the Kinne Kulle, {51} to which the traveller'sattention is directed, because it is said to afford an extended view, notonly over the lake, but far into the country. A curious grotto is saidto exist in this hill; but unfortunately one loses these sights since theestablishment of steamers, for we fly past every object of interest, andthe longest journey will soon be described in a few words. 

A large glass-factory is established at Bromoe, which fabricateswindow-glass exclusively. We stopped a short time, and took aconsiderable cargo of the brittle material on board. 

The factory and the little dwellings attached to it are prettily situatedon the undulating ground. 

Near Sjotorp we entered the river again through several locks. Thepassage of the Wennersee is calculated at about ten or eleven hours. 

The river at first winds through woods; and while the ship slowly passesthrough the locks, it is pleasanter to walk a portion of the distance intheir shade. Farther on it flows through broad valleys, which, however, present no very attractive features. 

 September 7th. 

Early in the morning we crossed the pretty Vikensee, which distinguishesitself, like all Swedish lakes, by the multitude of its islands, cliffs, and rocks. These islands are frequently covered with trees, which makethe view more interesting. 

The lake is 306 feet above the level of the North Sea, and is the highestpoint of the journey; from thence the locks begin to descend. The numberof ascending and descending locks amounts to seventy-two. 

A short canal leads into the Boltensee, which is comparatively free fromislands. The passage across this little lake is very charming; theshores are diversified by hills, woods, meadows, and fields. After itcomes the Weltersee, which can be easily defended by the beautifulfortress of Karlsborg. This lake has two peculiarities: one being theextraordinary purity and transparency of its waters; the other, thenumber of storms which prevail in it. I was told that it frequentlyraged and stormed on the lake while the surrounding country remained calmand free. The storm sometimes overtakes the ship so suddenly andviolently, that escape is impossible; and the sagas and fables told ofthe deceitful tricks of these waves are innumerable. 

We fortunately escaped, and crossed its surface cheerfully and merrily. On its shores are situated the beautiful ladies' pensionary, Wadstena, and the celebrated mountain Omberg, at whose foot a battle was fought. 

The next canal is short, and leads through a lovely wood into the littlelake of Norbysee. It is customary to walk this distance, and inspect thesimple monument of Count Platen, who made the plans for the locks andcanals, --a lasting, colossal undertaking. The monument is surrounded byan iron railing, and consists of a slab bearing an inscription, simplystating in Swedish his name, the date of his death, &c. Nearly oppositethe monument, on the other side of the canal, is the town of Motala, distinguished principally for its large iron factories, in which thespacious work-rooms are especially remarkable. 

Fifteen locks lead from the Norbysee into the Roxersee, which is adescent of 116 feet. The canal winds gracefully through woods andmeadows, crossed by pretty roads, and studded with elegant little housesand larger edifices. Distant church-steeples point out the village ofNorby, which sometimes peeps forth behind little forests, and thenvanishes again from the view of the traveller. When the sun shines onthe waters of this canal, it has a beautiful, transparent, pea-greencolour, like the purest chrysolite. 

The view from the hill which rises immediately before the lake of Roxenis exceedingly fine. It looks down upon an immense valley, covered withthe most beautiful woods and rocks, and upon the broad lake, whose armflows far in land. The evening sun shed its last rays over a little townon the lake-shore, and its newly-painted tiles shone brightly in itslight beams. 

While the ship descended through the many locks, we visited theneighbouring church of the village of Vretakloster, which contains theskeletons of several kings in beautifully-made metal coffins. 

We then crossed the lake, which is from four to five miles broad, andremained all night before the entrance of the canal leading into a bay ofthe Baltic. 

 September 8th. 

This canal is one of the longest; its environs are very pretty, and thevalley through which it runs is one of the largest we had passed. Thetown of Soderkoping is situated at the foot of high, picturesque groupsof rocks, which extend to a considerable distance. 

Every valley and every spot of soil in Sweden are carefully cultivated. 

The people in general are well dressed, and inhabit small but very prettyhouses, whose windows are frequently decorated with clean whitedraperies. I visited several of these houses, as we had abundance oftime for such excursions while the ship was going through the locks. Ithink one might walk the whole distance from Gottenburg to Stockholm inthe same time that the ship takes for the journey. We lose some hoursdaily with the locks, and are obliged to lie still at night on theiraccount. The distance is calculated at from 180 to 250 miles, and thejourney takes five days. 

In the evening we approached the Baltic, which has the same character asthe Scheren of the North Sea. The ship threads its way through a shoalof islands and islets, of rocks and cliffs; and it is as difficult toimagine here as there how it is possible to avoid all the projectingcliffs, and guide the ship so safely through them. The sea dividesitself into innumerable arms and bays, into small and large lakes, whichare formed between the islands and rocks, and are hemmed in by beautifulhills. But nothing can exceed the beauty of the view of the castleStorry Husby, which lies on a high mountain, in a bay. In front of themountain a beautiful meadow-lawn reaches to the shores of the sea, whilethe back is surrounded in the distance by a splendid pine-forest. Nearthis picturesque castle a steeple rises on a neighbouring island, whichis all that remains of the ancient castle of Stegeborg. Nothing can bemore romantic than the scenery here, and on the whole journey over thefiord; for it presents itself in ever-varying pictures to the traveller'snotice. 

But gradually the hills become lower, the islands more rare; the seasupersedes every thing, and seems jealously anxious to exclude otherobjects from the traveller's attention, as if it wished to monopolise it. Now we were in the open sea, and saw only water and sky; and then againwe were so hemmed in by the rocks and cliffs, that it would be impossibleto extricate the ship without the assistance of an experienced pilot. 

 September 9th. 

We left the sea, and entered another lake, the Malarsee, celebrated forits numerous islands, by a short canal. The town of Sotulje lies at itsentrance, charmingly situated in a narrow valley at the foot of a rathersteep hill. This lake at first resembles a broad river, but widens atevery step, and soon shews itself in its whole expanse. The passage ofthe Malarsee takes four hours, and is one of the most charming excursionsthat can be made. It is said to contain about a thousand islets ofvarious sizes; and it may be imagined how varied in form and feature thescenery must be, and, like the fiord of the Baltic, what a constantsuccession of new scenes it must present. 

The shores also are very beautiful: in some spots hills descend sharplyto the water's edge, the steep rocks forming dangerous points; on othersdark, sombre pine-forests grow; and again there are gay valleys andmeadows, with villages or single cottages. Many travellers assert thatthis lake is, after all, very monotonous; but I cannot agree with theiropinion. I found it so attractive, that I could repeat the journey manytimes without wearying of this lovely sameness. It certainly has not themajestic backgrounds of the Swiss lakes; but this profusion of smallislands is a pleasing peculiarity which can be found on no other lake. 

On the summit of a steep precipice of the shore the hat of theunfortunate Eric is hoisted, fastened to a long pole. History tells thatthis king fled from the enemy in a battle; that one of his soldierspursued him, and reproached him for his cowardice, whereupon Eric, filledwith shame and despair, gave spurs to his horse and leaped into thefearful abyss. At his fall his hat was blown from his head, and was lefton this spot. 

Not far from this point the suburbs of Stockholm make their appearance, being spread round one of the broad arms of the lake. With increasingcuriosity we gazed towards the town as we gradually approached it. Manyof the pretty villas, which are situated in the valleys or on the sidesof the hills as forerunners of the town, come into view, and the suburbsrise amphi-theatrically on the steep shores. The town itself closes theprospect by occupying the whole upper shore of the lake, and is flankedby the suburbs at either side. The Ritterholm church, with its cast-ironperforated towers, and the truly grand royal palace, which is builtentirely in the Italian style, can be seen and admired from thisdistance. 

We had scarcely cast anchor in the port of Stockholm, when a number ofHerculean women came and offered us their services as porters. They wereDelekarliers, {52} who frequently come to Stockholm to earn a livelihoodas porters, water-carriers, boatwomen, &c. They easily find employment, because they possess two excellent qualities: they are said to beexceedingly honest and hard-working, and, at the same time, have thestrength and perseverance of men. 

Their dress consists of black petticoats, which come half way over thecalf of the leg, red bodices, white chemises with long sleeves, shortnarrow aprons of two colours, red stockings, and shoes with wooden solesan inch thick. They twist a handkerchief round their head, or put on alittle close black cap, which fits close on the back part of the head. 

In Stockholm there are entire houses, as well as single rooms, which, asin a hotel, are let by the day. They are much cheaper than hotels, andare therefore more in demand. I at once hired one of these rooms, whichwas very clean and bright, and for which, with breakfast, I only paid oneriksdaler, which is about one shilling. 

CHAPTER X

As my journey was ostensibly only to Iceland, and as I only paid a flyingvisit to this portion of Scandinavia, my readers will pardon me if Itreat it briefly. This portion of Europe has been so frequently and soexcellently described by other travellers, that my observations would beof little importance. 

I remained in Stockholm six days, and made as good use of my time as Icould. The town is situated on the shores of the Baltic Sea and theMalar lake. These two waters are connected by a short canal, on whoseshores the most delightful houses are erected. 

 [Picture: Stockholm]

My first visit was to the beautiful church of Ritterholm, which is usedmore for a cemetery and an armory than for a place of worship. Thevaults serve as burial-places for the kings, and their monuments areerected in the side-chapels. On each side of the nave of the church areplaced effigies of armed knights on horseback, whose armour belonged tothe former kings of Sweden. The walls and angles of the church areprofusely decorated with flags and standards, said to number fivethousand. In addition to this, the keys of conquered towns andfortresses hang along the side-walls, and drums are piled upon the floor;trophies taken from different nations with which Sweden has been at war. 

Besides these curiosities, several coats of armour and garments ofSwedish regents are displayed behind glass-cases in the side-chapels. Among them, the dress which Charles XII. Wore on the day of his death, and his hat perforated by a ball, interested me most. His riding-bootsstand on the ground beside it. The modern dress and hat, embroideredwith gold and ornamented with feathers, of the last king, the founder ofthe new dynasty, is not less interesting, partly perhaps from the greatcontrast. 

The church of St. Nicholas stands on the same side of the canal, and isone of the finest Protestant churches I had seen; it is very evident thatit was built in Catholic times, and that its former decorations have beenallowed to remain. It contains several large and small oil-paintings, some ancient and some modern monuments, and a profusion of gilding. Theorgan is fine and large; flanking the entrance of the church arebeautiful reliefs, hewn in stone; and above it, carved in wood, a statueof the archangel Michael, larger than life, sitting on horseback on abridge, in the act of killing the dragon. 

Near the church is situated the royal palace, which needs a more fluentpen than mine to describe it. It would fill a volume were I to enumerateand describe the treasures, curiosities, and beauties of itsconstruction, or its interior arrangement; I can only say that I neversaw any thing to equal it, except the royal palace of Naples. Such anedifice is the more surprising in the north, and in a country which hasnever been overstocked with wealth. 

The church of Shifferholm is remarkable only for its position and itstemple-like form; it stands on the ledge of a rock facing the royalpalace, on the opposite shore of the same indentation of the Baltic. Along bridge of boats leads from the one to the other. 

The church of St. Catharine is large and beautiful. In an outer angle ofthe church is shewn the stone on which one of the brothers Sturre wasbeheaded. {53}

On the Ritterplatz stands the Ritterhouse, a very fine palace; also theold royal palace, and several other royal and private mansions; but theyare not nearly so numerous nor so fine as in Copenhagen, and the streetsand squares also cannot be compared with those of the capital of Denmark. 

The finest prospect is from a hill in one of the suburbs called the GreatMosbecken; it affords a magnificent view of the sea and the lake, of thetown and its suburbs, as far as the points of the mountains, and of thelovely country-houses which border the shores of lake and sea. The townand its environs are so interspersed with islets and rocks, that theseseem to be part of the town; and this gives Stockholm such a curiousappearance, that I can compare it to no other city I have seen. Woodedhills and naked rocks prolong the view, and their ridges extend into thefar distance; while level fields and lawns take up but a very smallproportion of the magnificent scenery. 

On descending from this hill the traveller should not fail to go toSodermalm, and to inspect the immense iron-stores, where iron is heapedup in countless bars. The corn-market of Stockholm is insignificant. The principal buildings besides those already enumerated are, the bank, the mint, the guard-house, the palace of the crown-prince, the theatre, &c. The latter is interesting, partly because Gustavus III. Was shot init. He fell on the stage, while a grand masquerade was taking place, forwhich the theatre had been changed into a ball-room. The king was shotby a mask, and died in a few hours. 

There is not a representation in the theatre every night; and on the oneevening of performance during my visit a festival was to be celebrated inthe hall of antiquities. The esteemed artist Vogelberg, a native ofSweden, had beautifully sculptured the three heathen gods, Thor, Balder, and Odin, in colossal size, and brought them over from Rome. The statueshad only been lately placed, and a large company had been invited to meetin the illuminated saloon, and do honour to the artist. Solemn hymnswere to be sung at the uncovering of the statues, beside otherfestivities. I was fortunate enough to receive an invitation to thisfestival, which was to commence a little past seven. Before that I wentto the theatre, which, I was told, would open at half-past six. Iintended 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 wentto the theatre at six, and anxiously waited half an hour for thecommencement of the overture; it was after half-past six, and no signs ofthe 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 untilI 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 neithertastefully nor richly decorated. I was most surprised at the exorbitantprice and the variety of seats. I counted twenty-six different kinds; itseems that every row has a different price, else I don't understand howthey 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-keeperfollowed me, took my arm, and wished to give me a return-ticket; and whenI told him that I did not require one, as I did not intend to return, hesaid that it had only just commenced, and that I ought to stop, and nothave spent all the money for nothing. I was unfortunately too littleacquainted with the Swedish language to explain the reason of mydeparture, 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 satan hour looking at the curtain, and goes away as soon as it rises. " Ilooked round and saw how he shook his head thoughtfully, and pointed withhis forefinger to his forehead. I could not refrain from smiling, andenjoyed the scene as much as I should have done the second act ofMozart's _Don Giovanni_. 

I called for my friends at the royal palace, and spent the evening veryagreeably in the brilliantly-illuminated galleries of antiquities and ofpictures. 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 ofStockholm, and is one of the best of its kind. It is a fine largenatural park, with an infinity of groves, meadows, hills, and rocks; hereand there lies a country-house with its fragrant flower-garden, ortasteful coffee and refreshment houses, which on fine Sundays are filledwith visitors from the town. Good roads are made through the park, andcommodious 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, andan annual festival is given here in his honour. 

Deeper in the park lies the so-called Rosenthal (Rose valley), a realEden. The late king was so partial to this spot, that he spent manyhours in the little royal country-house here, which is built on a retiredspot in the midst of groves and flower-beds. In front of the palacestands a splendid vase made of a single piece of porphyry. I was toldthat it was the largest in Europe, but I consider the one in the Museumof Naples much larger. 

I spent the last hours of my visit to Stockholm in this spot, with theamiable family of Herr Boje from Finnland, whose acquaintance I had madeon the journey from Gottenburg to Stockholm. I shall therefore neverforget this beautiful park and the agreeable associations connected withit. 

I made a very agreeable excursion also to the royal palace of Haga, tothe large cemetery, and to the military school Karlberg. 

The royal castle of Haga is surrounded by a magnificent park, which oweslittle to art; it contains some of the finest trees, with here and therea hill, and is crossed by majestic alleys and well-kept roads for drivingand walking. The palace itself is so small, that I could not but admirethe moderation of the royal family; but I was informed that this is thesmallest of their summer palaces. 

Nearly opposite to this park is the great cemetery; but as it has onlyexisted for about seventeen years, the trees in it are yet rather young. This would be of little consequence in other countries, but in Sweden thecemeteries serve as promenades, and are crossed by alleys, ornamentedwith groves, and provided with seats for the accommodation of visitors. This cemetery is surrounded by a dark pine-forest, and really seems quiteshut off from the outer world. It is the only burial-place out of thetown; the others all lie between the churches and the neighbouringhouses, whose fronts often form the immediate boundary. Burials takeplace there constantly, so that the inhabitants are quite familiar withthe aspect of death. 

From the great cemetery a road leads to the neighbouring Karlberg, whichis the academy for military and naval cadets. The extensive buildingsattached to this seminary are built on the slope of a mountain, which iswashed on one side by the waters of the lake, and surrounded on the otherby the beautiful park-plantations. 

Before leaving Stockholm I had the honour of being introduced to hermajesty the Queen of Sweden. She had heard of my travels, and took aparticular interest in my account of Palestine. In consequence of thisfavour, I received the special permission to inspect the whole interiorof the palace. Although it was inhabited, I was conducted, not onlythrough the state-rooms, but through all the private rooms of the court. It would be impossible to describe the splendour which reigns here, thetreasures of art, the magnificent appointments, and the evident tasteevery where displayed. I was delighted with all the treasures andsplendour, but still more with the warm interest with which her majestyconversed with me about Palestine. This interview will ever dwell on mymemory as the bright salient point of my northern expedition. 

EXCURSION TO THE OLD ROYAL CASTLE OF GRIPTHOLM ON THE MALARSEE

Every Sunday morning, at eight o'clock, a little steamer leaves Stockholmfor this castle; the distance is about forty-five miles, and is passed infour hours; four hours more are allowed for the stay, and in the eveningthe steamer returns to Stockholm. This excursion is very interesting, although we pass the greater part of the time on that portion of the lakewhich we had seen on our arrival, but for the last few miles the shipturned into a pretty bay, at whose apex the castle is situated. It isdistinguished for its size, its architecture, and its colossal turrets. It is unfortunately, however, painted with the favourite brick-red colourof the Swedes. 

Two immense cannons, which the Swedes once gained in battle from theRussians, stand in the courtyard. The apartments in the castle, whichare kept in good condition, display neither splendour nor profusion ofappointments, indeed almost the contrary. The pretty theatre is, however, an exception: for its walls are inlaid from top to bottom withmirrors, its pillars are gilt, and the royal box tapestried with rich redvelvet. There has been no performance here since the death of GustavusIII. 

The immensely massive walls are a remarkable feature of this palace, andmust measure about three yards in thickness in the lower stories. 

The upper apartments are all large and high, and afford a splendid viewof the lake from their windows. But it is impossible to enjoy thesebeautiful scenes when one thinks of the sad events which have taken placehere. 

Two kings, John III. And Eric XIV. , the latter with four of hisministers, who were subsequently beheaded, were imprisoned here for manyyears. The captivity of John III. Would not have been so bad, ifcaptivity were not bad enough in itself. He was confined in a largesplendid saloon, but which he was not permitted to quit, and which hewould therefore probably have gladly exchanged for the poorest hut andliberty. His wife inhabited two smaller apartments adjoining; she wasnot treated as a prisoner, and could leave the castle at will. His sonSigismund was born here in the year 1566, and the room and bed in whichhe was born are still shewn as curiosities. 

Eric's fate was much more unfortunate, for he was kept in narrow and darkconfinement. A small rudely-furnished apartment, with narrow, iron-barred windows, in one of the little turrets was his prison. Theentrance was closed by a solid oaken door, in which a small opening hadbeen made, through which his food was given him. For greater securitythis oaken door was covered by an iron one. Round the outside of theapartment a narrow gallery had been made, on which the guards wereposted, and could at all times see their prisoner through the barredwindows. The spot is still shewn at one of the windows where the kingsat for hours looking into the distance, his head leaning on his hand. What must have been his feelings as he gazed on the bright sky, theverdant turf, and the smiling lake! How many sighs must have been echoedfrom these walls, how many sleepless nights must he have passed duringthose two long years in anxious expectation of the future!

The guide who took us round the castle maintained that the floor was moreworn on this spot than any where else, and that the window-sash had beenhollowed by the elbow of the miserable king; but I could not perceive anydifference. Eric was kept imprisoned here for two years, and was thentaken to another prison. 

There is a large picture-gallery in this castle; but it containsprincipally portraits of kings, not only of Sweden, but of othercountries, from the Middle Ages down to the present time; also portraitsof ministers, generals, painters, poets, and learned men; of celebratedSwedish females, who have sacrificed themselves for their country, and ofthe most celebrated female beauties. The name and date of birth of eachperson are affixed to his or her portrait, so that each visitor may findhis favourite without guide or catalogue. In many of them the colouringand drawing are wretched enough, but we will hope that the resemblance isall the more striking. 

On our return several gentlemen were kind enough to direct my attentionto the most interesting points of the lake. Among these I must mentionKakeholm, its broadest point; the island of Esmoi, on which a Swedishfemale gained a battle; Norsberg, also celebrated for a battle which tookplace there; and Sturrehof, the property of a great Swedish family. NearBjarkesoe a simple cross is erected, ostensibly on the spot whereChristianity was first introduced. Indeed the Malarsee has so manyhistorical associations, in addition to the attractions of its scenery, that it is one of the most interesting seas not only of Sweden but ofEurope. 

JOURNEY FROM STOCKHOLM TO UPSALA AND TO THE IRON-MINES OF DANEMORA

 September 12th. 

The intercourse between Stockholm and Upsala is very considerable. Asteamer leaves both places every day except Sunday, and traverses thedistance in six hours. 

Tempted by this convenient opportunity of easily and quickly reaching thecelebrated town of Upsala, and by the unusually fine weather, I took mypassage one evening, and was greatly disappointed when, on the followingmorning, the rain poured down in torrents. But if travellers paid muchattention to the weather, they would not go far; so I neverthelessembarked at half-past seven, and arrived safely in Upsala. I remained inthe cabin during the passage, and could not even enjoy the prospect fromthe cabin-windows, for the rain beat on them from the outside, whileinside they were obscured by the heat. But I did not venture on deck, hoping to be favoured by better weather on my return. 

At last, about three o'clock, when I had been in Upsala more than anhour, the weather cleared up, and I sallied out to see the sights. 

First I visited the cathedral. I entered, and stood still withastonishment at the chief portal, on looking up at the high roof restingon two rows of pillars, and covering the whole church. It is formed inone beautiful straight line, unbroken by a single arch. The churchitself is simple: behind the grand altar a handsome chapel is erected, the ceiling of which is painted azure blue, embossed with golden stars. In this chapel Gustavus I. Is interred between his two wives. Themonument which covers the grave is large, and made of marble, but clumsyand void of taste. It represents a sarcophagus, on which three bodies, the size of life, are laid; a marble canopy is raised over them. Thewalls of the chapel are covered with pretty frescoes, representing themost remarkable scenes in the life of this monarch. The most interestingamong them are, one in which he enters a peasant's hut in peasant'sattire, at the same moment that his pursuers are eagerly inquiring afterhim in front of the hut; the other, when he stands on a barrel, alsodressed as a peasant, and harangues his people. Two large tablets in abroad gold frame contain in Swedish, and not in the Latin language, theexplanation of the different pictures, so that every Swede may easilylearn the monarch's history. 

Several other monuments are erected in the side-chapels; those ofCatharine Magelone, John III. , Gustavus Erichson, who was beheaded, andof the two brothers Sturre, who were murdered. The monument ofArchbishop Menander, in white marble, is a tasteful and artistic modernproduction. The great Linnaeus is buried under a simple marble slab inthis church; but his monument is in one of the side-chapels, and not overhis grave, and consists of a beautiful dark-brown porphyry slab, on whichhis portrait is sculptured in relief. 

The splendid organ, which reaches nearly to the roof of the church, alsodeserves special attention. The treasure-chamber does not contain greattreasures; the blood-stained and dagger-torn garments of the unfortunatebrothers Sturre are kept in a glass case here; and here also stands awooden statue of the heathen god Thor. This wooden affair seems to haveoriginally been an Ecce Homo, which was perhaps the ornament of somevillage church, then carried off by some unbeliever, and made moreshapeless than its creator, not proficient in art, had made it. It has agreater resemblance now to a frightful scarecrow than to any thing else. 

The churchyard near the church is distinguished for its size and beauty. It is surrounded by a wall of stone two feet high, surmounted by an ironpalisading of equal height, broken by stone pillars. On several sides, steps are made into the burying-ground over this partition. In thiscemetery, as in the one of Stockholm, one seems to be in a lovely garden, laid out with alleys, arbours, lawns, &c. ; but it is more beautiful thanthe other, because it is older. The graves are half concealed byarbours; many were ornamented with flowers and wreaths, or hedged byrose-bushes. The whole aspect of this cemetery, or rather of thisgarden, seems equally adapted for the amusement of the living or therepose of the dead. 

The monuments are in no way distinguished; only two are ratherremarkable, for they consist of tremendous pieces of rock in theirnatural condition, standing upright on the graves. One of thesemonuments resembles a mountain; it covers the ashes of a general, and islarge enough to have covered his whole army; his relatives probably tookthe graves of Troy as a specimen for their monument. It is moreoverinscribed by very peculiar signs, which seemed to me to be runiccharacters. The good people have united in this monument twocharacteristics of the ancients of two entirely distinct empires. 

The university or library building in Upsala is large and beautiful; itis situated on a little hill, with a fine front facing the town. Thepark, which is, however, still somewhat young, forms the background. {54}

Near this building, on the same hill, stands a royal palace, conspicuousfor its brick-red colour. It is very large, and the two wings arefinished by massive round towers. 

In the centre of the courtyard, behind the castle, is placed a colossalbust of Gustavus I. , and a few paces from it two artificial hills serveas bastions, on which cannons are planted. This being the highest pointof the town, affords the best view over it, and over the surroundingcountry. 

The town itself is built half of wood and half of stone, and is verypretty, being crossed by broad streets, and ornamented with tastefullylaid-out gardens. It has one disadvantage, which is the darkbrownish-red colour of the houses, which has a peculiarly sombreappearance in the setting sun. 

An immense and fertile plain, diversified by dark forests contrastingwith the bright green meadows and the yellow stubble-fields, surroundsthe town, and in the distance the silvery river Fyris flows towards thesea. Forests close the distant view with their dark shadows. I saw butfew villages; they may, however, have been hidden by the trees, for thatthey exist seems to be indicated by the well-kept high roads crossing theplain in all directions. 

Before quitting my position on the bastions of the royal palace I cast aglance on the castle-gardens, which were lying lower down the hill, andare separated from the castle by a road; they do not seem to be large, but are very pretty. 

I should have wished to be able to visit the botanic garden near thetown, which was the favourite resort of Linnaeus, whosesplendidly-sculptured bust is said to be its chief ornament; but the sunwas setting behind the mountains, and I repaired to my chamber, toprepare for my journey to Danemora. 

 September 13th. 

I left Upsala at four o'clock in the morning, to proceed to the far-famediron-mines of Danemora, upwards of thirty miles distant, and where Iwished to arrive before twelve, as the blasting takes place at that hour, after which the pits are closed. As I had been informed how slowlytravelling is done in this country, and how tedious the delays are whenthe horses are changed, I determined to allow time enough for allinterruptions, and yet arrive at the appointed hour. 

A few miles behind Upsala lies Old Upsala (Gamla Upsala). I saw the oldchurch and the grave-hills in passing; three of the latter are remarkablylarge, the others smaller. It is presumed that the higher ones cover thegraves of kings. I saw similar tumuli during my journey to Greece, onthe spot where Troy is said to have stood. The church is not honoured asa ruin; it has yet to do service; and it grieved me to see the venerablebuilding propped up and covered with fresh mortar on many a time-wornspot. 

Half way between Upsala and Danemora we passed a large castle, notdistinguished for its architecture, its situation, or any thing else. Then we neared the river Fyris, and the long lake of Danemora; both arequite overgrown with reeds and grass, and have flat uninteresting shores;indeed the whole journey offers little variety, as the road lies througha plain, only diversified by woods, fields, and pieces of rock. Theseare interesting features, because one cannot imagine how they came there, the mountains being at a great distance, and the soil by no means rocky. 

The little town of Danemora lies in the midst of a wood, and onlyconsists of a church and a few large and small detached houses. Thevicinity of the mines is indicated before arriving at the place byimmense heaps of stones, which are brought by horse-gins from the pits, and which cover a considerable space. 

I had fortunately arrived in time to see the blastings. Those in thegreat pit are the most interesting; for its mouth is so very large, thatit is not necessary to descend in order to see the pit-men work; all isvisible from above. This is a very peculiar and interesting sight. Thepit, 480 feet deep, with its colossal doors and entrances leading intothe galleries, looks like a picture of the lower world, from whichbridges of rocks, projections, arches and caverns formed in the walls, ascend to the upper world. The men look like pigmies, and one cannotfollow their movements until the eye has accustomed itself to the depthand to the darkness prevailing below. But the darkness is not verydense; I could distinguish most of the ladders, which seemed to me likechildren's toys. 

It was nearly twelve, and the workmen left the pits, with the exceptionof those in charge of the mines. They ascended by means of little tubshanging by ropes, and were raised by a windlass. It is a terrible sightto see the men soaring up on the little machine, especially when two orthree ascend at once; for then one man stands in the centre, while theother two ride on the edge of the tub. 

 [Picture: Mines of Danemora]

I should have liked to descend into the great pit, but it was too late onthis day, and I would not wait another. I should not have feared thedescent, as I was familiar with such adventures, having explored thesalt-mines of Wieliczka and Bochnia, in Gallicia, some years before, inwhich I had had to let myself down by a rope, which is a much moredangerous method than the tub. 

With the stroke of twelve, four blasting trains in the large pit werefired. The man whose business it was to apply the match ran away ingreat haste, and sheltered himself behind a wall of rock. In a fewmoments the powder flashed, some stones fell, and then a fearful crashwas heard all around, followed by the rolling and falling of the blastedmasses. Repeated echoes announced the fearful explosion in the interiorof the pits: the whole left a terrible impression on me. Scarcely hadone mine ceased to rage, when the second began, then the third, and soon. These blastings take place daily in different mines. 

The other pits are deeper, the deepest being 600 feet; but the mouths aresmaller, and the shafts not perpendicular, so that the eye is lost indarkness, which is a still more unpleasant sensation. I gazed withoppressed chest into the dark space, vainly endeavouring to distinguishsomething. I should not like to be a miner; I could not endure lifewithout the light of day; and when I turned from the dark pits, I cast myeyes thankfully on the cheerful landscape basking in the sun. 

I returned to Upsala on the same day, having made this little journey bypost. I can merely narrate the facts, without giving an opinion on thegood or bad conveniences for locomotion, as this was more a pleasure-tripthan a journey. 

As I had hired no carriage, I had a different vehicle at every station, and these vehicles consisted of ordinary two-wheeled wooden carts. Myseat was a truss of hay covered with the horse-cloth. If the roads hadnot been so extremely good, these carts would have shaken terribly; butas it was, I must say that I rode more comfortably than in the carriolsof the Norwegians, although they were painted and vanished; for in them Ihad to be squeezed in with my feet stretched out, and could not change myposition. 

The stations are unequal, --sometimes long, sometimes short. Thepost-horses are provided here, as in Norway, by wealthy peasants, calledDschns-peasants. These have to collect a certain number of horses everyevening for forwarding the travellers the next morning. At everypost-house a book is kept, in which the traveller can see how many horsesthe peasant has, how many have already been hired, and how many are leftin the stable. He must then inscribe his name, the hour of hisdeparture, and the number of horses he requires. By this arrangementdeception and extortion are prevented, as every thing is open, and theprices fixed. {55}

Patience is also required here, though not so much as in Norway. I hadalways to wait from fifteen to twenty minutes before the carriage wasbrought and the horses and harness prepared, but never longer; and I mustadmit that the Swedish post-masters hurried as much as possible, andnever demanded double fare, although they must have known that I was inhaste. The pace of the horse depends on the will of the coachman and thepowers of his steed; but in no other country did I see such considerationpaid to the strength of the horses. It is quite ridiculous to see whatsmall loads of corn, bricks, or wood, are allotted to two horses, and howslowly and sleepily they draw their burdens. 

The number of wooden gates, which divide the roads into as many parts asthere are common grounds on it, are a terrible nuisance to travellers. The coachman has often to dismount six or eight times in an hour to openand close these gates. I was told that these delectable gates even existon the great high road, only not quite in such profusion as on theby-roads. 

Wood must be as abundant here as in Norway, for every thing is enclosed;even fields which seem so barren as not to be worth the labour or thewood. 

The villages through which I passed were generally pretty and cheerful, and I found the cottages, which I entered while the horses were changed, neatly and comfortably furnished. 

The peasants of this district wear a peculiar costume. The men, andfrequently also the boys, wear long dark-blue cloth surtouts, and clothcaps on their heads; so that, at a distance, they look like gentlemen intravelling dress. It seems curious to a foreigner to see these apparentgentlemen following the plough or cutting grass. At a nearer view, ofcourse the aspect changes, and the rents and dirt appear, or the leathernapron worn beneath the coat, like carpenters in Austria, becomes visible. The female costume was peculiar only in so far that it was poor andragged. In dress and shoes the Norwegian and Swedes are behind theIcelanders, but they surpass them in the comfort of their dwellings. 

 September 14th. 

To-day I returned to Stockholm on the Malarsee, and the weather beingmore favourable than on my former passage, I could remain on deck thewhole time. I saw now that we sailed for several miles on the riverFyris, which flows through woods and fields into the lake. 

The large plain on which old and new Upsala lie was soon out of sight, and after passing two bridges, we turned into the Malar. At first thereare no islands on its flat expanse, and its shores are studded with lowtree-covered hills; but we soon, however, arrived at the region ofislands, where the passage becomes more interesting, and the beauty ofthe shores increases. The first fine view we saw was the pretty estateKrusenberg, whose castle is romantically situated on a fertile hill. Butmuch more beautiful and surprising is the splendid castle of Skukloster, a large, beautiful, and regular pile, ornamented with four immense roundturrets at the four corners, and with gardens stretching down to thewater's edge. 

From this place the scenery is full of beauty and variety; every momentpresents another and a more lovely view. Sometimes the waters expand, sometimes they are hemmed in by islands, and become as narrow as canals. I was most charmed with those spots where the islands lie so closetogether that no outlet seems possible, till another turn shews anopening between them, with a glimpse of the lake beyond. The hills onthe shores are higher, and the promontories larger, the farther the shipadvances; and the islands appear to be merely projections of thecontinent, till a nearer approach dispels the illusion. 

The village of Sixtuna lies in a picturesque and charming little valley, filled with ruins, principally of round towers, which are said to be theremains of the Roman town of Sixtum; the name being retained by the newtown with a slight modification. 

After this follow cliffs and rocks rising perpendicularly from the sea, and whose vicinity would be by no means desirable in a storm. Of thecastle of Rouse only three beautiful domes rise above the trees; afrowning bleak hill conceals the rest from the eye. Then comes a palace, the property of a private individual, only remarkable for its size. Thelast of the notabilities is the Rokeby bridge, said to be one of thelongest in Sweden. It unites the firm land with the island on which theroyal castle of Drottingholm stands. The town of Stockholm now becomesvisible; we turn into the portion of the lake on which it lies, andarrive there again at two o'clock in the afternoon. 

FROM STOCKHOLM TO TRAVEMUNDE AND HAMBURGH

I bade farewell to Stockholm on the 18th September, and embarked in thesteamer _Svithiold_, of 100-horse power, at twelve o'clock at noon, to goto Travemunde. 

Few passages can be more expensive than this one is. The distance isfive hundred leagues, and the journey generally occupies two and a halfto three days; for this the fare, without food, is four pounds. The foodis also exorbitantly dear; in addition to which the captain is thepurveyor; so that there is no appeal for the grossest extortion orinsufficiency. 

It pained me much when one of the poorer travellers, who suffered greatlyfrom sea-sickness, having applied for some soup to the steward, whoreferred him to the amiable captain, to hear him declare he would make noexception, and that a basin of soup would be charged the whole price of acomplete dinner. The poor man was to do without the soup, of which hestood so much in need, or scrape every farthing together to pay a fewshillings daily for his dinner. Fortunately for him some benevolentpersons on deck paid for his meals. Some of the gentlemen brought theirown wine with them, for which they had to pay as much duty to the captainas the wine was worth. 

To these pleasures of travelling must be added the fact, that a Swedishvessel does not advance at all if the weather is unfavourable. Most ofthe passengers considered that the engines were inefficient. Howeverthis may be, we were delayed twenty-four hours at the first half of ourjourney, from Stockholm to Calmar, although we had only a slight breezeagainst us and a rather high sea, but no storm. In Calmar we castanchor, and waited for more favourable wind. Several gentlemen, whosebusiness in Lubeck was pressing, left the steamer, and continued theirjourney by land. 

At first the Baltic very much resembles the Malarsee; for islands, rocks, and a variety of scenery make it interesting. To the right we saw theimmensely long wooden bridge of Lindenborg, which unites one of thelarger islands with the continent. 

At the end of one of the turns of the sea lies the town of Wachsholm; andopposite to it, upon a little rocky island, a splendid fortress with acolossal round tower. Judging by the number of cannons planted along thewalls, this fortress must be of great importance. A few hours later wepassed a similar fortress, Friedrichsborg; it is not in such an opensituation as the other, but is more surrounded by forests. We passed ata considerable distance, and could not see much of it, nor of the castlelying on the opposite side, which seems to be very magnificent, and isalso surrounded by woods. 

The boundaries of the right shore now disappear, but then again appear asa terrible heap of naked rocks, at whose extreme edge is situated thefine fortress Dolero. Near it groups of houses are built on the barerocks projecting into the sea, and form an extensive town. 

September 19th. 

To-day we were on the open, somewhat stormy sea. Towards noon we arrivedat the Calmar Sound, formed by the flat, uniform shores of the longisland Oland on the left, and on the right by Schmoland. In front rosethe mountain-island the Jungfrau, to which every Swede points withself-satisfied pride. Its height is only remarkable compared with theflatness around; beside the proud giant-mountain of the same name inSwitzerland it would seem like a little hill. 

 September 20th. 

On account of the contrary wind, we had cast anchor here last night, andthis morning continued the journey to Calmar, where we arrived about twoin the forenoon. The town is situated on an immense plain, and is notvery interesting. A few hours may be agreeably spent here in visitingthe beautiful church and the antiquated castle, and we had more thanenough leisure for it. Wind and weather seemed to have conspired againstus, and the captain announced an indefinite stay at this place. At firstwe could not land, as the waves were too high; but at last one of thelarger boats came alongside, and the more curious among us ventured torow to the land in the unsteady vessel. 

The exterior of the church resembles a fine antiquated castle from itsfour corner towers and the lowness of its dome, which rises very littleabove the building, and also because the other turrets here and thereerected for ornament are scarcely perceptible. The interior of thechurch is remarkable for its size, its height, and a particularly fineecho. The tones of the organ are said to produce a most striking effect. We sent for the organist, but he was nowhere to be found; so we had tocontent ourselves with the echo of our own voices. We went from thisplace to the old royal castle built by Queen Margaret in the sixteenthcentury. The castle is so dilapidated inside that a tarrying in theupper chambers is scarcely advisable. The lower rooms of the castle havebeen repaired, and are used as prisons; and as we passed, arms werestretched forth from some of the barred windows, and plaintive voicesentreated the passers-by to bestow some trifle upon the poor inmates. Upwards of 140 prisoners are said to be confined here. {56}

About three o'clock in the afternoon the wind abated, and we continuedour journey. The passage is very uniform, and we saw only flat, bareshores; a group of trees even was a rarity. 

 September 21st. 

When I came on deck this morning the Sound was far behind us. To theleft we had the open sea; on the right, instead of the bleak Schmoland, we had the bleaker Schonen, which was so barren, that we hardly saw apaltry fishing-village between the low sterile hills. 

At nine o'clock in the morning we anchored in the port of Ystadt. Thetown is pretty, and has a large square, in which stand the house of thegovernor, the theatre, and the town-hall. The streets are broad, and thehouses partly of wood and partly of stone. The most interesting featureis the ancient church, and in it a much-damaged wooden altar-piece, whichis kept in the vestry. Though the figures are coarse anddisproportionate, one must admire the composition and the carving. Thereliefs on the pulpit, and a beautiful monument to the right of thealtar, also deserve admiration. These are all carved in wood. 

In the afternoon we passed the Danish island Malmo. 

At last, after having been nearly four days on the sea instead of twodays and a half, we arrived safely in the harbour of Travemunde on the22d September at two o'clock in the morning. And now my sea-journeyswere over; I parted sorrowfully from the salt waters, for it is sodelightful to see the water's expanse all around, and traverse itsmirror-like surface. The sea presents a beautiful picture, even when itstorms and rages, when waves tower upon waves, and threaten to dash thevessel to pieces or to engulf it--when the ship alternately dances ontheir points, or shoots into the abyss; and I frequently crept for hoursin a corner, or held fast to the sides of the ship, and let the wavesdash over me. I had overcome the terrible sea-sickness during mynumerous journeys, and could therefore freely admire these fearfullybeautiful scenes of excited nature, and adore God in His grandest works. 

We had scarcely cast anchor in the port when a whole array of coachmensurrounded us, volunteering to drive us overland to Hamburgh, a journeyof thirty-six miles, which it takes eight hours to accomplish. 

Travemunde is a pretty spot, which really consists of only one street, inwhich the majority of the houses are hotels. The country from here toLubeck, a distance of ten miles, is very pretty. A splendid road, onwhich the carriages roll smoothly along, runs through a charming woodpast a cemetery, whose beauty exceeds that of Upsala; but for themonuments, one might take it for one of the most splendid parks orgardens. 

I regretted nothing so much as being unable to spend a day in Lubeck, forI felt very much attracted by this old Hanse town, with itspyramidically-built houses, its venerable dome, and other beautifulchurches, its spacious squares, &c. ; but I was obliged to proceed, andcould only gaze at and admire it as I hurried through. The pavement ofthe streets is better than I had seen it in any northern town; and on thestreets, in front of the houses, I saw many wooden benches, on which theinhabitants probably spend their summer evenings. I saw here for thefirst time again the gay-looking street-mirrors used in Hamburgh. TheTrave, which flows between Travemunde and Lubeck, has to be crossed byboat. Near Oldesloe are the salt-factories, with large buildings andimmensely high chimneys; an old romantic castle, entirely surrounded bywater, lies near Arensburg. 

Past Arensburg the country begins to be uninteresting, and remains so asfar as Hamburgh; but it seems to be very fertile, as there is anabundance of green fields and fine meadows. 

The little journey from Lubeck to Hamburgh is rather dear, on account ofthe almost incredible number of tolls and dues the poor coachmen have topay. They have first to procure a license to drive from Lubeck intoHamburgh territory, which costs about 1_s. _ 3_d. _; then mine had to paytwice a double toll of 8_d. _, because we passed through before fiveo'clock in the morning, and the gates, which are not opened till fiveo'clock, were unfastened especially for us; besides these, there was apenny toll on nearly every mile. 

This dreadful annoyance of the constant stopping and the toll-bars isunknown in Norway and in Sweden. There, an annual tax is paid for everyhorse, and the owner can then drive freely through the whole country, asno toll-bars are erected. 

The farm-houses here are very large and far-spread, but the reason is, that stable, barn, and shippen are under the same roof: the walls of thehouses are of wood filled in with bricks. 

After passing Arensburg, we saw the steeples of Wandsbeck and Hamburgh inthe distance; the two towns seem to be one, and are, in fact, onlyseparated by pretty country-houses. But Wandsbeck compared to Hamburghis a village, not a town. 

I arrived in Hamburgh about two o'clock in the afternoon; and myrelatives were so astonished at my arrival, that they almost took me fora ghost. I was at first startled by their reception, but soon understoodthe reason of it. 

At the time I left Iceland another vessel went to Altona, by which I senta box of minerals and curiosities to my cousin in Hamburgh. The sailorwho brought the box gave such a description of the wretched vessel inwhich I had gone to Copenhagen, that, after having heard nothing of mefor two months, he thought I must have gone to the bottom of the sea withthe ship. I had indeed written from Copenhagen, but the letter had beenlost; and hence their surprise and delight at my arrival. 

CHAPTER XI

I had not much time to spare, so that I could only stay a few days withmy relatives in Hamburgh; on the 26th September, I went in a littlesteamer from Hamburgh to Harburg, where we arrived in three quarters ofan hour. From thence I proceeded in a stage-carriage to Celle, aboutsixty-five miles. 

The country is not very interesting; it consists for the most part ofplains, which degenerate into heaths and marshes; but there are a fewfertile spots peeping out here and there. 

 September 27th. 

We arrived at Celle in the night. From here to Lehrte, a distance ofabout seven miles, I had to hire a private conveyance, but from Lehrtethe railway goes direct to Berlin. {57} Many larger and smaller townsare passed on this road; but we saw little of them, as the stations alllie at some distance, and the railway-train only stops a few minutes. 

The first town we passed was Brunswick. Immediately beyond the town liesthe pretty ducal palace, built in the Gothic style, in the centre of afine park. Wolfenbuttel seems to be a considerable town, judging by thequantity of houses and church-steeples. A pretty wooden bridge, with anelegantly-made iron balustrade, is built here across the Ocker. From thetown, a beautiful lane leads to a gentle hill, on whose top stands alovely building, used as a coffee-house. 

As soon as one has passed the Hanoverian domains the country, though itis not richer in natural curiosities, is less abundant in marshes andheaths, and is very well-cultivated land. Many villages are spreadaround, and many a charming town excites the wish to travel through at aslower pace. 

We passed Schepenstadt, Jersheim, and Wegersleben, which latter townalready belongs to Prussia. In Ashersleben and in Magdeburg we changedcarriages. Near Salze we saw some fine buildings which belong to theextensive saltworks existing here. Jernaudau is a colony of Moravians. I should have wished to visit the town of Kotten, --for nothing can bemore charming than the situation of the town in the midst of fragrantgardens, --but we unfortunately only stopped there a few minutes. Thetown of Dessau is also surrounded by pretty scenery: several bridgescross the various arms of the Elbe; that over the river itself rests onsolid stone columns. Of Wittenberg we only saw house tops andchurch-steeples; the same of Juterbog, which looks as if it were newlybuilt. Near Lukewalde the regions of sand begin, and the uniformity isonly broken by a little ridge of wooded hills near Trebbin; but whenthese are past, the railway passes on to Berlin through a melancholy, unmitigated desert of sand. 

I had travelled from six o'clock this morning until seven in the evening, over a distance of about two hundred and twenty miles, during which timewe had frequently changed carriages. 

The number of passengers we had taken up on the road was very great, onaccount of the Leipzic fairs; sometimes the train had thirty-five toforty carriages, three locomotives, and seven to eight hundredpassengers; and yet the greatest order had prevailed. It is a greatconvenience that one can take a ticket from Lehrte to Berlin, althoughthe railway passes through so many different states, because then oneneeds not look after the luggage or any thing else. The officials on therailway are all very civil. As soon as the train stopped, the guardsannounced with a loud voice the time allowed, however long or short itmight be; so that the passengers could act accordingly, and takerefreshments in the neighbouring hotels. The arrangements for alightingare very convenient: the carriages run into deep rails at the stations, so that the ground is level with the carriages, and the entrance and exiteasy. The carriages are like broad coaches; two seats ran breadthwiseacross them, with a large door at each side. The first and second classcontain eight persons in each division, the third class ten. Thecarriages are all numbered, so that every passenger can easily find hisseat. 

By these simple arrangements the traveller may descend and walk about alittle, even though the train should only stop two minutes, or evenpurchase some refreshments, without any confusion or crowding. 

These conveniences are, of course, impossible when the carriages have thelength of a house, and contain sixty or seventy persons within lockeddoors, and where the doors are opened by the guards, who only call outthe name of the station without announcing how long the stay is. In suchrailways it is not advisable for travellers to leave their seats; forbefore they can pass from one end of the carriage to the other, throughthe narrow door and down the steep steps, the horn is sounded, and at thesame time the train moves on; the sound being the signal for theengine-driver, the passengers having none. 

In these states there was also not the least trouble with the passportand the intolerable pass-tickets. No officious police-soldier comes tothe carriage, and prevents the passengers alighting before they haveanswered all his questions. If passports had to be inspected on thisjourney, it would take a few days, for they must always be taken to thepassport-office, as they are never examined on the spot. 

Such annoying interruptions often occur several times in the same state. And one need not even come from abroad to experience them, as a journeyfrom a provincial to a capital town affords enough scope for annoyance. 

I had no reason to complain of such annoyances in any of the countriesthrough which I had hitherto passed. My passport was only demanded in myhotel in the capitals of the countries, if I intended to remain severaldays. In Stockholm, however, I found a curious arrangement; everyforeigner there is obliged to procure a Swedish passport, and payhalf-a-crown for it, if he only remains a few hours in the town. Thisis, in reality, only a polite way of taking half-a-crown from thestrangers, as they probably do not like to charge so much for a simple_vise_!

STAY IN BERLIN--RETURN TO VIENNA

I have never seen a town more beautifully or regularly built thanBerlin, --I mean, the town of Berlin itself, --only the finest streets, palaces, and squares of Copenhagen would bear a comparison with it. 

I spent but a few days here, and had therefore scarcely time to see themost remarkable and interesting sights. 

The splendid royal palace, the extensive buildings for thepicture-gallery and museums, the great dome--all these are situated verynear each other. 

The Dome church is large and regularly built; a chapel, surrounded by aniron enclosure, stands at each side of the entrance. Several kings areburied here, and antiquated sarcophagi cover their remains, known as thekings' graves. Near them stands a fine cast-iron monument, beneath whichCount Brandenburg lies. 

The Catholic church is built in the style of the Rotunda in Rome; but, unlike it, the light falls from windows made around the walls, and notfrom above. Beautiful statues and a simple but tasteful altar are theonly ornaments of this church. The portico is ornamented by beautifulreliefs. 

The Werder church is a modern erection, built in the Gothic style, andits turrets are ornamented by beautiful bronze reliefs. The walls insideare inlaid with coloured wood up to the galleries, where they terminatein Gothic scroll-work. The organ has a full, clear tone; in front of itstands a painting which, at first sight, resembles a scene from heathenmythology more than a sacred subject. A number of cupids soar amongwreaths of flowers, and surround three beautiful female figures. 

The mint and the architectural college stand near this church. Theformer is covered with fine sculptures; the latter is square, of abrick-red colour, without any architectural embellishment, and perfectlyresembling an unusually large private house. The ground-floor is turnedinto fine shops. 

Near the palace lies the Opera Square, in which stand the celebratedopera-house, the arsenal, the university, the library, the academy, theguardhouse, and several royal palaces. Three statues ornament thesquare: those of General Count Bulov, General Count Scharnhorst, andGeneral Prince Blucher. They are all three beautifully sculptured, butthe drapery did not please me; it consisted of the long military clothcloak, which, opening in front, afforded a glimpse of the splendiduniforms. 

The arsenal is one of the finest buildings in Berlin, and forms a square;at the time of my stay some repairs were being made, so that it wasclosed. I had to be content with glimpses through the windows of thefirst floor, which showed me immense saloons filled by tremendouscannons, ranged in rows. 

The guardhouse is contiguous, and resembles a pretty temple, with itsportico of columns. 

The opera-house forms a long detached square. It would have a muchbetter effect if the entrances were not so wretched. The one at thegrand portal looks like a narrow, miserable church-door, low and gloomy. The other entrances are worse still, and one would not suppose that theycould lead to such a splendid interior, whose appointments areindescribably luxurious and commodious. The pit is filled by rows ofcomfortably-cushioned chairs with cushioned backs, numbered, but notbarred. The boxes are divided by very low partitions, so that thearistocratic world seems to sit on a tribune. The seats in the pit andthe first and second tiers are covered with dark-red silk damask; theroyal box is a splendid saloon, the floor of which is covered with thefinest carpets. Beautiful oil-paintings, in tasteful gold frames, ornament the plafond; but the magnificent chandelier is the greatestcuriosity. It looks so massively worked in bronze, that it is painful tosee the heavy mass hang so loosely over the heads of the spectators. Butit is only a delusion; for it is made of paste-board, and bronzed over. Innumerable lamps light the place; but one thing which I miss in suchelegant modern theatres is a clock, which has a place in nearly everyItalian theatre. 

The other buildings on this square are also distinguished for their sizeand the beauty of their architecture. 

An unusually broad stone bridge, with a finely-made iron balustrade, isbuilt over a little arm of the Spree, and unites the square of the operawith that on which the palace stands. 

The royal museum is one of the finest architectural piles, and its highportal is covered with beautiful frescoes. The picture-gallery containsmany _chefs-d'oeuvre_; and I regretted that I had not more time toexamine it and the hall of antiquities, having only three hours for thetwo. 

From the academy runs a long street lined with lime-trees, and which istherefore called Under-the-limes (_unter den Linden_). This alley formsa cheerful walk to the Brandenburg-gate, beyond which thepleasure-gardens are situated. The longest and finest streets which runinto the lime-alley are the Friedrichs Street and the Wilhelms Street. The Leipziger Street also belongs to the finest, but does not run intothis promenade. 

The Gens-d'arme Square is distinguished by the French and Germanchurches, at least by their exterior, --by their high domes, columns, andporticoes. The interiors are small and insignificant. On this squarestands also the royal theatre, a tasteful pile of great beauty, with manypillars, and statues of muses and deities. 

I ascended the tower on which the telegraph works, on account of the viewover the town and the flat neighbourhood. A very civil official waspolite enough to explain the signs of the telegraph to me, and to permitme to look at the other telegraphs through his telescope. 

The Konigstadt, situated on the opposite shore of the Spree, not far fromthe royal palace, contains nothing remarkable. Its chief street, theKonigsstrasse, is long, but narrow and dirty. Indeed it forms a greatcontrast to the town of Berlin in every thing; the streets are narrow, short, and winding. The post-office and the theatres are the mostremarkable buildings. 

The luxury displayed in the shop-windows is very great. Many a mirrorand many a plate-glass window reminded me of Hamburgh's splendour, whichsurpasses that of Berlin considerably. 

There are not many excursions round Berlin, as the country is flat andsandy. The most interesting are to the pleasure-gardens, Charlottenburg, and, since the opening of the railway, to Potsdam. 

The park or pleasure-garden is outside the Brandenburg-gate; it isdivided into several parts, one of which reminded me of our fine Praterin Vienna. The beautiful alleys were filled with carriages, riders, andpedestrians; pretty coffee-houses enlivened the woody portions, and merrychildren gambolled on the green lawns. I felt so much reminded of mybeloved Prater, that I expected every moment to see a well-known face, orreceive a friendly greeting. Kroll's Casino, sometimes called theWinter-garden, is built on this side of the park. I do not know how todescribe this building; it is quite a fairy palace. All the splendourwhich fancy can invent in furniture, gilding, painting, or tapestry, ishere united in the splendid halls, saloons, temples, galleries, andboxes. The dining-room, which will dine 1800 persons, is not lighted bywindows, but by a glass roof vaulted over it. Rows of pillars supportthe galleries, or separate the larger and smaller saloons. In theniches, and in the corners, round the pillars, abound fragrant flowers, and plants in chaste vases or pots, which transform this place into amagical garden in winter. Concerts and _reunions_ take place here everySunday, and the press of visitors is extraordinary, although smoking isprohibited. This place will accommodate 5000 persons. 

That side of the park which lies in the direction of the Potsdam-gateresembles an ornamental garden, with its well-kept alleys, flower-beds, terraces, islets, and gold-fish ponds. A handsome monument to the memoryof Queen Louise is erected on the Louise island here. 

On this side, the coffee-house Odeon is the best, but cannot be comparedto Kroll's casino. Here also are rows of very elegant country-houses, most of which are built in the Italian style. 

CHARLOTTENBURG

This place is about half an hour's distance from the Brandenburg-gate, where the omnibuses that depart every minute are stationed. The roadleads through the park, beyond which lies a pretty village, and adjoiningit is the royal country-palace of Charlottenburg. The palace is built intwo stories, of which the upper one is very low, and is probably onlyused for the domestics. The palace is more broad than deep; the roof isterrace-shaped, and in its centre rises a pretty dome. The garden issimple, and not very large, but contains a considerable orangery. In adark grove stands a little building, the mausoleum in which the image ofQueen Louise has been excellently executed by the famed artist Rauch. Here also rest the ashes of the late king. There is also an island withstatues in the midst of a large pond, on which some swans float proudly. It is a pity that dirt does not stick to these white-feathered animals, else they would soon be black swans; for the pond or river surroundingthe island is one of the dirtiest ditches I have ever seen. 

Fatigue would be very intolerable in this park, for there are very fewbenches, but an immense quantity of gnats. 

POTSDAM. 

The distance from Berlin to Potsdam is eighteen miles, which is passed bythe railroad in three-quarters of an hour. The railway is veryconveniently arranged; the carriages are marked with the names of thestation, and the traveller enters the carriage on which the place of hisdestination is marked. Thus, the passengers are never annoyed by theentrance or exit of passengers, as all occupying the same carriagedescend at the same time. 

The road is very uninteresting; but this is compensated for by Potsdamitself, for which a day is scarcely sufficient. 

Immediately in front of the town flows the river Havel, crossed by along, beautiful bridge, whose pillars are of stone, and the rest of thebridge of iron. The large royal palace lies on the opposite shore, andis surrounded by a garden. The garden is not very extensive, but largeenough for the town, and is open to the public. The palace is built in asplendid style, but is unfortunately quite useless, as the court hasbeautiful summer-palaces in the neighbourhood of Potsdam, and spends thewinter in Berlin. 

The castle square is not very good; it is neither large nor regular, andnot even level. On it stands the large church, which is not yetcompleted, but promises to be a fine structure. The town is tolerablylarge, and has many fine houses. The streets, especially the NaunerStreet, are wide and long, but badly paved; the stones are laid with thepointed side upwards, and for foot-passengers there is a stone pavementtwo feet broad on one side of the street only. The promenade of thetownspeople is called Am Kanal (beside the canal), and is a fine square, through which the canal flows, and is ornamented with trees. 

Of the royal pleasure-palaces I visited that of Sans Souci first. It issurrounded by a pretty park, and lies on a hill, which is divided intosix terraces. Large conservatories stand on each side of these; and infront of them are long alleys of orange and lemon-trees. 

The palace has only a ground floor, and is surrounded by arbours, trees, and vines, so that it is almost concealed from view. I could not inspectthe interior, as the royal family was living there. 

A side-path leads from here to the Ruinenberg, on which the ruins of alarger and a smaller temple, raised by the hand of art, are tastefullydisposed. The top of the hill is taken up by a reservoir of water. Fromthis point one can see the back of the palace of Sans Souci, and theso-called new palace, separated from the former by a small park, anddistant only about a quarter of an hour. 

The new palace, built by Frederick the Great, is as splendid as one canimagine. It forms a lengthened square, with arabesques and flat columns, and has a flat roof, which is surrounded by a stone balustrade, andornamented by statues. 

The apartments are high and large, and splendidly painted, tapestried, and furnished. Oil-paintings, many of them very good, cover the walls. One might fill a volume with the description of all the wonders of thisplace, which is, however, not inhabited. 

Behind the palace, and separated from it by a large court, are twobeautiful little palaces, connected by a crescent-shaped hall of pillars;broad stone steps lead to the balconies surrounding the first story ofthe edifices. They are used as barracks, and are, as such, the mostbeautiful I have ever seen. 

From here a pleasant walk leads to the lovely palace of Charlottenburg. Coming from the large new palace it seemed too small for the dwellingeven of the crown-prince. I should have taken it for a splendid pavilionattached to the new palace, to which the royal family sometimes walked, and perhaps remained there to take refreshment. But when I had inspectedit more closely, and seen all the comfortable little rooms, furnishedwith such tasteful luxury, I felt that the crown-prince could not havemade a better choice. 

Beautiful fountains play on the terraces; the walls of the corridors andanterooms are covered with splendid frescoes, in imitation of those foundin Pompeii. The rooms abound in excellent engravings, paintings, andother works of art; and the greatest taste and splendour is displayedeven in the minor arrangements. 

A pretty Chinese chiosque, filled with good statues, which have beenunfortunately much damaged and broken, stands near the palace. 

These three beautiful royal residences are situated in parks, which areso united that they seem only as one. The parks are filled with finetrees, and verdant fields crossed by well-kept paths and drives; but Isaw very few flower-beds in them. 

When I had contemplated every thing at leisure, I returned to the palaceof Sans Souci, to see the beautiful fountains, which play twice a week, on Tuesday and Friday, from noon till evening. The columns projectedfrom the basin in front of the castle are so voluminous, and rise withsuch force, that I gazed in amazement at the artifice. It is realpleasure to be near the basin when the sun shines in its full splendour, forming the most beautiful rainbows in the falling shower of drops. Equally beautiful is a fountain rising from a high vase, enwreathed byliving flowers, and falling over it, so that it forms a quick, briskfountain, transparent, and pure as the finest crystal. The lid of thevase, also enwreathed with growing flowers, rises above the fountain. The Neptune's grotto is of no great beauty; the water falls from an urnplaced over it, and forms little waterfalls as it flows overnautilus-shells. 

The marble palace lies on the other side of Potsdam, and is half anhour's distance from these palaces; but I had time enough to visit it. 

Entering the park belonging to this palace, a row of neat peasants'cottages is seen on the left; they are all alike, but separated by fruit, flower, or kitchen-gardens. The palace lies at the extreme end of thepark, on a pretty lake formed by the river Havel. It certainly has someright to the name of marble palace; but it seems presumption to call itso when compared to the marble palaces of Venice, or the marble mosquesof Constantinople. 

The walls of the building are of brick left in its natural colour. Thelower and upper frame-work, the window-sashes, and the portals, are allof marble. The palace is partly surrounded by a gallery supported onmarble columns. The stairs are of fine white marble, and many of theapartments are laid with this mineral. The interior is not nearly soluxurious as the other palaces. 

This was the last of the sights I saw in Potsdam or the environs ofBerlin; for I continued my journey to Vienna on the following day. 

Before quitting Berlin, I must mention an arrangement which isparticularly convenient for strangers--namely, the fares forhackney-carriages. One need ask no questions, but merely enter thecarriage, tell the coachman where to drive, and pay him six-pence. Thismoderate fare is for the whole town, which is somewhat extensive. At allthe railway stations there are numbers of these vehicles, which willdrive to any hotel, however far it may be from the station, for the samemoderate fare. If only all cab-drivers were so accommodating!

 October 1st. 

The railway goes through Leipzic to Dresden, where I took the mail-coachfor Prague at eight o'clock the same evening, and arrived there ineighteen hours. 

As it was night when we passed, we did not enjoy the beautiful views ofthe Nollendorf mountain. In the morning we passed two handsomemonuments, one of them, a pyramid fifty-four feet high, to the memory ofCount Colloredo, the other to the memory of the Russian troops who hadfallen here; both have been erected since the wars of Napoleon. 

On we went through charming districts to the famed bathing-place Teplitz, which is surrounded by the most beautiful scenery; and can bearcomparison with the finest bathing-places of the world. 

Further on we passed a solitary basaltic rock, Boren, which deservesattention for its beauty and as a natural curiosity. We unfortunatelyhurried past it, as we wished to reach Prague before six o'clock, so thatwe might not miss the train to Vienna. 

My readers may imagine our disappointment on arriving at the gates ofPrague, when our passports were taken from us and not returned. In vainwe referred to the _vise_ of the boundary-town Peterswalde; in vain wespoke of our haste. The answer always was, "That is nothing to us; youcan have your papers back to-morrow at the police-office. " Thus we wereput off, and lost twenty-four hours. 

I must mention a little joke I had on the ride from Dresden to Prague. Two gentlemen and a lady beside myself occupied the mail-coach; the ladyhappened to have read my diary of Palestine, and asked me, when she heardmy name, if I were that traveller. When I had acknowledged I was thatsame person, our conversation turned on that and on my present journey. One of the gentlemen, Herr Katze, was very intelligent, and conversed ina most interesting manner on countries, nationalities, and scientificsubjects. The other gentleman was probably equally well informed, but hemade less use of his acquirements. Herr Katze remained in Teplitz, andthe other gentleman proceeded with us to Vienna. Before arriving at ourdestination, he asked me if Herr Katze had not requested me to mentionhis name in my next book, and added, that if I would promise to do thesame, he would tell me his name. I could not refrain from smiling, butassured him that Herr Katze had not thought of such a thing, and beggedhim not to communicate his name to me, so that he might see that wefemales were not so curious as we are said to be. But the poor man couldnot refrain from giving me his name--Nicholas B. --before we parted. I donot insert it for two reasons: first, because I did not promise to namehim; and secondly, because I do not think it would do him any service. 

The railway from Prague to Vienna goes over Olmutz, and makes such aconsiderable round, that the distance is now nearly 320 miles, and thearrangements on the railway are very imperfect. 

There were no hotels erected on the road, and we had to be content withfruit, beer, bread, and butter, &c. The whole time. And these provisionswere not easily obtained, as we could not venture to leave the carriages. The conductor called out at every station that we should go on directly, although the train frequently stood upwards of half an hour; but as wedid not know that before, we were obliged to remain on our seats. Theconductors were not of the most amiable character, which may perhaps beascribed to the climate; for when we approached the boundary of theAustrian states at Peterswalde, the inspector received us very gruffly. We wished him good evening twice, but he took no notice of it, anddemanded our papers in a loud and peremptory tone; he probably thought usas deaf as we thought him. At Ganserndorf, twenty-five miles fromVienna, they took our papers from us in a very uncivil, uncourteousmanner. 

On the 4th of October, 1845, after an absence of six months, I arrivedagain in sight of the dear Stephen's steeple, as most of my countrywomenwould say. 

I had suffered many hardships; but my love of travelling would not havebeen abated, nor would my courage have failed me, had they been ten timesgreater. I had been amply compensated for all. I had seen things whichnever occur in our common life, and had met with people as they arerarely met with--in their natural state. And I brought back with me therecollections of my travels, which will always remain, and which willafford me renewed pleasure for years. 

And now I take leave of my dear readers, requesting them to accept withindulgence my descriptions, which are always true, though they may not beamusing. If I have, as I can scarcely hope, afforded them someamusement, I trust they will in return grant me a small corner in theirmemories. 

In conclusion, I beg to add an Appendix, which may not be uninterestingto many of my readers, namely:

1. A document which I procured in Reikjavik, giving the salaries of theroyal Danish officials, and the sources from whence they are paid. 

2. A list of Icelandic insects, butterflies, flowers, and plants, whichI collected and brought home with me. 

APPENDIX A

Salaries of the Royal Danish Officials in Iceland, which they receivefrom the Icelandic land-revenues. 

 Florins {58}The Governor of Iceland 2000 Office expenses 600The deputy for the western 1586district Office expenses 400 Rent 200The deputy for the northern and 1286eastern districts Office expenses 400The bishop of Iceland, who draws 800his salary from theschool-revenues, has paid himfrom this treasuryThe members of the Supreme Court: One judge 1184 First assessor 890 Second assessor 740The land-bailiff of Iceland 600 Office expenses 200 Rent 150The town-bailiff of Reikjavik 300The first police-officer of 200Reikjavik, who is at the sametime gaoler, and therefore has 50_fl. _ more than the secondofficerThe second police-officer 150The mayor of Reikjavik only draws 150from this treasury hishouse-rent, which isThe sysselman of the Westmanns 296IslandsThe other sysselmen, each 230Medical department and midwifery: The physician 900 House-rent 150 Apothecary of Reikjavik 185 House-rent 150 The second apothecary at 90Sikkisholm Six surgeons in the country, 300each House-rent for some 30 For others 25 A medical practitioner on the 110Northland Reikjavik has two midwives, 50each receives The other midwives in Iceland, 100amounting to thirty, eachreceives These midwives are instructedand examined by the landphysician, who has the charge ofpaying them annually. Organist of Reikjavik 100From the school-revenues The bishop receives 1200 The teachers at the highschool: The teacher of theology 800 The head assistant, besides 500free lodging The second assistant 500 House-rent 50 The third assistant 500 House-rent 50 The resident at the school 170

LIST OF INVERTEBRATED ANIMALS collected in Iceland

1. CRUSTACEA. 

Pagarus Bernhardus, _Linnaeus_. 

2. INSECTA. 

a. _Coleoptera_. Nebria rubripes, _Dejean_. Patrobus hyperboreus. Calathus melanocephalus, _Fabr_. Notiophilus aquaticus. Amara vulgaris, _Duftsihm_. Ptinus fur, _Linn_. Aphodius Lapponum, _Schh_. Otiorhynchus laevigatus, _Dhl_. Otiorhynchus Pinastri, _Fabr_. Otiorhynchus ovatus. Staphylinus maxillosus. Byrrhus pillula. 

b. _Neuroptera_. Limnophilus lineola, _Schrank_. 

c. _Hymenoptera_. Pimpla instigator, _Gravh_. Bombus subterraneus, _Linn_. 

d. _Lepidoptera_. Geometra russata, Hub. Geom. Alche millata. Geom. Spec. Nov. 

e. _Diptera_. Tipula lunata, _Meig_. Scatophaga stercoraria. Muscavomitaria. Musca mortuorum. Helomyza serrata. Lecogaster islandicus, _Scheff_. {59} Anthomyia decolor, _Fallin_. 

LIST OF ICELANDIC PLANTS _collected by Ida Pfeiffer in the Summer of theyear_ 1845

_Felices_. Cystopteris fragilis. 

_Equisetaceae_. Equisetum Teltamegra. 

_Graminae_. Festuca uniglumis. 

_Cyperaceae_. Carea filiformis. Carea caespitosa. Eriophorumcaespitosum. 

_Juncaceae_. Luzula spicata. Luzula campestris. 

_Salicineae_. Salix polaris. 

_Polygoneae_. Remux arifolus. Oxyria reniformes. 

_Plumbagineae_. Armeria alpina (in the interior mountainous districts). 

_Compositae_. Chrysanthemum maritimum (on the sea-shore, and on marshyfields). Hieracium alpinum (on grassy plains). Taraxacum alpinum. Erigeron uniflorum (west of Havenfiord, on rocky soil). 

_Rubiaceae_. Gallium pusillum. Gallium verum. 

_Labiatae_. Thynus serpyllum. 

_Asperifoliae_. Myosotis alpestris. Myosotis scorpioicles. 

_Scrophularineae_. Bartsia alpina (in the interior north-westernvalleys). Rhinanthus alpestris. 

_Utricularieae_. Pinguicula alpina. Pinguicula vulgaris. 

_Umbelliferae_. Archangelica officinalis (Havenfiord). 

_Saxifrageae_. Saxifraga caespitosa (the real Linnaean plant: on rocksround Hecla). 

_Ranunculaceae_. Ranunculus auricomus. Ranunculus nivalis. Thalictrumalpinum (growing between lava, near Reikjavik). Caltha palustris. 

_Cruciferae_. Draba verna. Cardamine pratensis. 

_Violariceae_. Viola hirta. 

_Caryophylleae_. Sagina stricta. Cerastium semidecandrum. Lepigonumrubrum. Silene maritima. Lychnis alpina (on the mountain-fields roundReikjavik). 

_Empetreae_. Empetrum nigrum. 

_Geraniaceae_. Geranium sylvaticum (in pits near Thingvalla). 

_Troseaceae_. Parnassia palustris. 

_OEnothereae_. Epilobium latifolium (in clefts of the mountain at thefoot of Hecla). Epilobium alpinum (in Reiker valley, west ofHavenfiord). 

_Rosaceae_. Rubus arcticus. Potentilla anserina. Potentillagronlandica (on rocks near Kallmanstunga and Kollismola). Alchemillamontana. Sanguisorba officinalis. Geum rivale. Dryas octopela (nearHavenfiord). 

_Papilionaceae_. Trifolium repens. 

FOOTNOTES:

{1} In this Gutenberg eText only Madame Pfeiffer's work appears--DP. 

{2} Madame Pfeiffer's first journey was to the Holy Land in 1842; and onher return from Iceland she started in 1846 on a "Journey round theWorld, " from which she returned in the end of 1848. This adventurouslady is now (1853) travelling among the islands of the EasternArchipelago. 

{3} A florin is worth about 2_s. _ 1_d. _; sixty kreutzers go to a florin. 

{4} At Kuttenberg the first silver groschens were coined, in the year1300. The silver mines are now exhausted, though other mines, of copper, zinc, &c. Are wrought in the neighbourhood. The population is only halfof what it once was. --ED. 

{5} The expression of Madame Pfeiffer's about Frederick "paying hisscore to the Austrians, " is somewhat vague. The facts are these. In1757 Frederick the Great of Prussia invaded Bohemia, and laid siege toPrague. Before this city an Austrian army lay, who were attacked withgreat impetuosity by Frederick, and completely defeated. But the townwas defended with great valour; and during the time thus gained theAustrian general Daun raised fresh troops, with which he took the fieldat Collin. Here he was attacked by Frederick, who was routed, and allhis baggage and cannon captured. This loss was "paying his score;" andthe defeat was so complete, that the great monarch sat down by the sideof a fountain, and tracing figures in the sand, was lost for a long timein meditation on the means to be adopted to retrieve his fortune. 

{6} I mention this little incident to warn the traveller against partingwith his effects. 

{7} The true version of this affair is as follows. John of Nepomuk wasa priest serving under the Archbishop of Prague. The king, Wenceslaus, was a hasty, cruel tyrant, who was detested by all his subjects, andhated by the rest of Germany. Two priests were guilty of some crime, andone of the court chamberlains, acting under royal orders, caused thepriests to be put to death. The archbishop, indignant at this, placedthe chamberlain under an interdict. This so roused the king that heattempted to seize the archbishop, who took refuge in flight. John ofNepomuk, however, and another priest, were seized and put to the tortureto confess what were the designs of the archbishop. The king seems tohave suspected that the queen was in some way connected with the line ofconduct pursued by the archbishop. John of Nepomuk, however, refused, even though the King with his own hand burned him with a torch. Irritated by his obstinate silence, the king caused the poor monk to becast over the bridge into the Moldau. This monk was afterwardscanonised, and made the patron saint of bridges. --ED. 

{8} Albert von Wallenstein (or Waldstein), the famous Duke of Friedland, is celebrated as one of the ablest commanders of the imperial forcesduring the protracted religious contest known in German history as the"Thirty Years' War. " During its earlier period Wallenstein greatlydistinguished himself, and was created by the Emperor Ferdinand Duke ofFriedland and generalissimo of the imperial forces. In the course of afew months Wallenstein raised an army of forty thousand men in theEmperor's service. The strictest discipline was preserved _within_ hiscamp, but his troops supported themselves by a system of rapine andplunder unprecedented even in those days of military license. Merit wasrewarded with princely munificence, and the highest offices were withinthe reach of every common soldier who distinguished himself;--trivialbreaches of discipline were punished with death. The dark and ambitiousspirit of Wallenstein would not allow him to rest satisfied with therewards and dignities heaped upon him by his imperial master. Hetemporised and entered into negotiations with the enemy; and during aninterview with a Swedish general (Arnheim), is even said to have proposedan alliance to "hunt the Emperor to the devil. " It is supposed that heaspired to the sovereignty of Bohemia. Ferdinand was informed of theambitious designs of his general, and at length determined thatWallenstein should die. He despatched one of his generals, Gallas, tothe commander-in-chief, with a mandate depriving him of his dignity ofgeneralissimo, and nominating Gallas as his successor. Surprised beforehis plans were ripe, and deserted by many on whose support he had relied, Wallenstein retired hastily upon Egra. During a banquet in the castle, three of his generals who remained faithful to their leader were murderedin the dead of night. Roused by the noise, Wallenstein leapt from hisbed, and encountered three soldiers who had been hired to despatch him. Speechless with astonishment and indignation, he stretched forth hisarms, and receiving in his breast the stroke of a halbert, fell deadwithout a groan, in the fifty-first year of his age. 

The following anecdote, curiously illustrative of the state of affairs inWallenstein's camp, is related by Schiller in his _History of the ThirtyYears' War_, a work containing a full account of the life and actions ofthis extraordinary man. "The extortions of Wallenstein's soldiers fromthe peasants had at one period reached such a pitch, that severepenalties were denounced against all marauders; and every soldier whoshould be convicted of theft was threatened with a halter. Shortlyafterwards, it chanced that Wallenstein himself met a soldier straying inthe field, whom he caused to be seized, as having violated the law, andcondemned to the gallows without a trial, by his usual word of doom: "Letthe rascal be hung!" The soldier protested, and proved his innocence. "Then let them hang the innocent, " cried the inhuman Wallenstein; "andthe guilty will tremble the more. " The preparations for carrying thissentence into effect had already commenced, when the soldier, who sawhimself lost without remedy, formed the desperate resolution that hewould not die unrevenged. Rushing furiously upon his leader, he wasseized and disarmed by the bystanders before he could carry his intentioninto effect. "Now let him go, " said Wallenstein; "it will excite terrorenough. ""--ED. 

{9} Poniatowski was the commander of the Polish legion in the armies ofNapoleon, by whom he was highly respected. At the battle of Leipzig, fought in October 1813, Poniatowski and Marshal MacDonald were appointedto command the rear of Napoleon's army, which, after two days hardfighting, was compelled to retreat before the Allies. These generalsdefended the retreat of the army so gallantly, that all the Frenchtroops, except those under their immediate command, had evacuated thetown. The rear-guard was preparing to follow, when the only bridge overthe Elster that remained open to them was destroyed, through somemistake. This effectually barred the escape of the rear of Napoleon'sarmy. A few, among whom was Marshal MacDonald, succeeded in swimmingacross; but Poniatowski, after making a brave resistance, and refusing tosurrender, was drowned in making the same attempt. --ED. 

{10} Leipzig has long been famous as the chief book-mart of Germany. Atthe great Easter meetings, publishers from all the different statesassemble at the "Buchhandler Borse, " and a large amount of business isdone. The fairs of Leipzig have done much towards establishing theposition of this city as one of the first trading towns in Germany. Theytake place three times annually: at New-year, at Easter, and atMichaelmas; but the Easter fair is by far the most important. Thesecommercial meetings last about three weeks, and during this time the townpresents a most animated appearance, as the streets are thronged with thecostumes of almost every nation, the smart dress of the Tyrolesecontrasting gaily with the sombre garb of the Polish Jews. The amount ofbusiness transacted at these fairs is very considerable; on severaloccasions, above twenty thousand dealers have assembled. The trade isprincipally in woollen cloths; but lighter wares, and even ornaments ofevery description, are sold to a large extent. The manner in which everyavailable place is taken advantage of is very curious: archways, cellars, passages, and courtyards are alike filled with merchandise, and thestreets are at times so crowded as to be almost impassable. When thethree weeks have passed, the wooden booths which have been erected in themarket-place and the principal streets are taken down, the buyers andsellers vanish together, and the visitor would scarcely recognise in thequiet streets around him the bustling busy city of a few days ago. --ED. 

{11} The fire broke out on 4th May 1842, and raged with the utmost furyfor three days. Whole streets were destroyed, and at least 2000 housesburned to the ground. Nearly half a million of money was raised inforeign countries to assist in rebuilding the city, of which about atenth was contributed by Britain. Such awful fires, fearful though theyare at the time, seem absolutely necessary to great towns, as they causeneedful improvements to be made, which the indolence or selfishness ofthe inhabitants would otherwise prevent. There is not a great city thathas not at one time or another suffered severely from fire, and has risenout of the ruins greater than before. --ED. 

{12} There are no docks at Hamburgh, consequently all the vessels lie inthe river Elbe, and both receive and discharge their cargoes there. Madame Pfeiffer, however, is mistaken in supposing that only London couldshow a picture of so many ships and so much commercial activitysurpassing that of Hamburgh. Such a picture, more impressive even thanthat seen in the Elbe, is exhibited every day in the Mersey or theHudson. --ED. 

{13} Kiel, however, is a place of considerable trade; and doubtless thereason why Madame Pfeiffer saw so few vessels at it was precisely thesame reason why she saw so many at Hamburgh. Kiel contains an excellentuniversity. --ED. 

{14} At sea I calculate by sea-miles, of which sixty go to a degree. 

{15} This great Danish sculptor was born of poor parents at Copenhagen, on the 19th November, 1770; his father was an Icelander, and earned hisliving by carving figure-heads for ships. Albert, or "Bertel, " as he ismore generally called, was accustomed during his youth to assist hisfather in his labours on the wharf. At an early age he visited theAcademy at Copenhagen, where his genius soon began to make itselfconspicuous. At the age of sixteen he had won a silver, and at twenty agold medal. Two years later he carried off the "great" gold medal, andwas sent to study abroad at the expense of the Academy. In 1797 we findhim practising his art at Rome under the eye of Zoega the Dane, who doesnot, however, seem to have discovered indications of extraordinary geniusin the labours of his young countryman. But a work was soon to appearwhich should set all questions as to Thorwaldsen's talent for ever atrest. In 1801 he produced his celebrated statue of "Jason, " which was atonce pronounced by the great Canova to be "a work in a new and a grandstyle. " After this period the path of fame lay open before the youngsculptor; his bas-reliefs of "Summer" and "Autumn, " the "Dance of theMuses, " "Cupid and Psyche, " and numerous other works, followed each otherin rapid succession; and at length, in 1812, Thorwaldsen produced hisextraordinary work, "The Triumph of Alexander. " In 1819 Thorwaldsenreturned rich and famous to the city he had quitted as a youthtwenty-three years before; he was received with great honour, and manyfeasts and rejoicings were held to celebrate his arrival. After asojourn of a year Thorwaldsen again visited Rome, where he continued hislabours until 1838, when, wealthy and independent, he resolved to rest inhis native country. This time his welcome to Copenhagen was even moreenthusiastic than in 1819. The whole shore was lined with spectators, and amid thundering acclamations the horses were unharnessed from hiscarriage, and the sculptor was drawn in triumph by the people to his_atelier_. During the remainder of his life Thorwaldsen passed much ofhis time on the island of Nyso, where most of his latest works wereexecuted. On Sunday, March 9th, 1842, he had been conversing with acircle of friends in perfect health. Halm's tragedy of _Griselda_ wasannounced for the evening, and Thorwaldsen proceeded to the theatre towitness the performance. During the overture he rose to allow a strangerto pass, then resumed his seat, and a moment afterwards his head sunk onhis breast--he was dead!

His funeral was most sumptuous. Rich and poor united to do honour to thememory of the great man, who had endeared himself to them by his virtuesas by his genius. The crown-prince followed the coffin, and the peopleof Copenhagen stood in two long rows, and uncovered their heads as thecoffin of the sculptor was carried past. The king himself took part inthe solemnity. At the time of his decease Thorwaldsen had completed hisseventy-second year. --ED. 

{16} Tycho de Brahe was a distinguished astronomer, who lived between1546 and 1601. He was a native of Denmark. His whole life may be saidto have been devoted to astronomy. A small work that he published when ayoung man brought him under the notice of the King of Denmark, with whoseassistance he constructed, on the small island of Hulln, a few milesnorth of Copenhagen, the celebrated Observatory of Uranienburg. Here, seated in "the ancient chair" referred to in the text, and surrounded bynumerous assistants, he directed for seventeen years a series ofobservations, that have been found extremely accurate and useful. On thedeath of his patron he retired to Prague in Bohemia, where he wasemployed by Rodolph II. Then Emperor of Germany. Here he was assisted bythe great Kepler, who, on Tycho's death in 1601, succeeded him. --ED. 

{17} The fisheries of Iceland have been very valuable, and indeed thechief source of the commerce of the country ever since it was discovered. The fish chiefly caught are cod and the tusk or cat-fish. They areexported in large quantities, cured in various ways. Since the discoveryof Newfoundland, however, the fisheries of Iceland have lost much oftheir importance. So early as 1415, the English sent fishing vessels tothe Icelandic coast, and the sailors who were on board, it would appear, behaved so badly to the natives that Henry V. Had to make somecompensation to the King of Denmark for their conduct. The greatestnumber of fishing vessels from England that ever visited Iceland wasduring the reign of James I. , whose marriage with the sister of theDanish king might probably make England at the time the most favourednation. It was in his time that an English pirate, "Gentleman John, " ashe was called, committed great ravages in Iceland, for which James hadafterwards to make compensation. The chief markets for the fish are inthe Catholic countries of Europe. In the seventeenth century, a greattraffic in fish was carried on between Iceland and Spain. --ED. 

{18} The dues charged by the Danish Government on all vessels passingthrough the Sound have been levied since 1348, and therefore enjoy aprescriptive right of more than five hundred years. They bring to theDanish Government a yearly revenue of about a quarter of a million; and, in consideration of the dues, the Government has to support certainlighthouses, and otherwise to render safe and easy the navigation of thisgreat entrance to the Baltic. Sound-dues were first paid in the palmycommercial days of the Hanseatic League. That powerful combination ofmerchants had suffered severely from the ravages of Danish pirates, royaland otherwise; but ultimately they became so powerful that the richmerchant could beat the royal buccaneer, and tame his ferocity soeffectually as to induce him to build and maintain those beacon-lights onthe shores of the Sound, for whose use they and all nations and merchantsafter them have agreed to pay certain duties. --ED. 

{19} The Feroe Islands consist of a great many islets, some of them mererocks, lying about halfway between the north coast of Scotland andIceland. At one time they belonged to Norway, but came into thepossession of Denmark at the same time as Iceland. They are exceedinglymountainous, some of the mountains attaining an elevation of about 2800feet. The largest town or village does not contain more than 1500 or1600 inhabitants. The population live chiefly on the produce of theirlarge flocks of sheep, and on the down procured, often at great risk tohuman life, from the eider-duck and other birds by which the island isfrequented. --ED. 

{20} I should be truly sorry if, in this description of our "life aboardship, " I had said any thing which could give offence to my kind friendHerr Knudson. I have, however, presumed that every one is aware that themode of life at sea is different to life in families. I have only toadd, that Herr Knudson lived most agreeably not only in Copenhagen, butwhat is far more remarkable, in Iceland also, and was provided with everycomfort procurable in the largest European towns. 

{21} It is not only at sea that ingenious excuses for drinking areinvented. The lovers of good or bad liquor on land find these reasons as"plenty as blackberries, " and apply them with a marvellous want of stintor scruple. In warm climates the liquor is drank to keep the drinkercool, in cold to keep him warm; in health to prevent him from being sick, in sickness to bring him back to health. Very seldom is the real reason, "because I like it, " given; and all these excuses and reasons must beregarded as implying some lingering sense of shame at the act, and asforming part of "the homage that vice always pays to virtue. "--ED. 

{22} The sailors call those waves "Spanish" which, coming from the west, distinguish themselves by their size. 

{23} These islands form a rocky group, only one of which is inhabited, lying about fifteen miles from the coast. They are said to derive theirname from some natives of Ireland, called West-men, who visited Icelandshortly after its discovery by the Norwegians. In this there is nothingimprobable, for we know that during the ninth and tenth centuries theDanes and Normans, called Easterlings, made many descents on the Irishcoast; and one Norwegian chief is reported to have assumed sovereignpower in Ireland about the year 866, though he was afterwards deposed, and flung into a lough, where he was drowned: rather an ignominious deathfor a "sea-king. "--ED. 

{24} This work, which Madame Pfeiffer does not praise too highly, wasfirst published in 1810. After passing through two editions, it wasreprinted in 1841, at a cheap price, in the valuable people's editions ofstandard works, published by Messrs. Chambers of Edinburgh. 

{25} It is related of Ingold that he carried with him on his voyage thedoor of his former house in Ireland, and that when he approached thecoast he cast it into the sea, watching the point of land which ittouched; and on that land he fixed his future home. This land is thesame on which the town of Reikjavik now stands. These old sea-kings, like the men of Athens, were "in all things too superstitious. "--ED. 

{26} These sea-rovers, that were to the nations of Europe during themiddle ages what the Danes, Norwegians, and other northmen were at anearlier period, enjoyed at this time the full flow of their lawlessprosperity. Their insolence and power were so great that many nations, our own included, were glad to purchase, by a yearly payment, exemptionfrom the attacks of these sea-rovers. The Americans paid this tribute solate as 1815. The unfortunate Icelanders who were carried off in theseventeenth century nearly all died as captives in Algiers. At the endof ten years they were liberated; but of the four hundred onlythirty-seven were alive when the joyful intelligence reached the place oftheir captivity; and of these twenty-four died before rejoining theirnative land. --ED. 

{27} This town, the capital of Iceland, and the seat of government, isbuilt on an arm of the sea called the Faxefiord, in the south-west partof the island. The resident population does not exceed 500, but this isgreatly increased during the annual fairs. It consists mainly of twostreets at right angles to each other. It contains a large church builtof stone, roofed with tiles; an observatory; the residences of thegovernor and the bishop, and the prison, which is perhaps the mostconspicuous building in the town. --ED. 

{28} As Madame Pfeiffer had thus no opportunity of attending a ball inIceland, the following description of one given by Sir George Mackenziemay be interesting to the reader. 

"We gave a ball to the ladies of Reikjavik and the neighbourhood. Thecompany began to assemble about nine o'clock. We were shewn into a smalllow-roofed room, in which were a number of men, but to my surprise I sawno females. We soon found them, however, in one adjoining, where it isthe custom for them to wait till their partners go to hand them out. Onentering this apartment, I felt considerable disappointment at notobserving a single woman dressed in the Icelandic costume. The dresseshad some resemblance to those of English chambermaids, but were not sosmart. An old lady, the wife of the man who kept the tavern, was habitedlike the pictures of our great-grandmothers. Some time after the dancingcommenced, the bishop's lady, and two others, appeared in the properdress of the country. 

"We found ourselves extremely awkward in dancing what the ladies werepleased to call English country dances. The music, which came from asolitary ill-scraped fiddle, accompanied by the rumbling of the samehalf-rotten drum that had summoned the high court of justice, and by thejingling of a rusty triangle, was to me utterly unintelligible. Theextreme rapidity with which it was necessary to go through manycomplicated evolutions in proper time, completely bewildered us; and ourmistakes, and frequent collisions with our neighbours, afforded muchamusement to our fair partners, who found it for a long timeimpracticable to keep us in the right track. When allowed to breathe alittle, we had an opportunity of remarking some singularities in thestate of society and manners among the Danes of Reikjavik. Whileunengaged in the dance, the men drink punch, and walk about withtobacco-pipes in their mouths, spitting plentifully on the floor. Theunrestrained evacuation of saliva seems to be a fashion all over Iceland;but whether the natives learned it from the Danes, or the Danes from thenatives, we did not ascertain. Several ladies whose virtue could notbear a very strict scrutiny were pointed out to us. 

"During the dances, tea and coffee were handed about; and negus and punchwere ready for those who chose to partake of them. A cold supper wasprovided, consisting of hams, beef, cheese, &c. , and wine. While attable, several of the ladies sang, and acquitted themselves tolerablywell. But I could not enjoy the performance, on account of the incessanttalking, which was as fashionable a rudeness in Iceland as it is now inBritain. This, however, was not considered as in the least unpolite. One of the songs was in praise of the donors of the entertainment; and, during the chorus, the ceremony of touching each other's glasses wasperformed. After supper, waltzes were danced, in a style that remindedme of soldiers marching in cadence to the dead march in Saul. Thoughthere was no need of artificial light, a number of candles were placed inthe rooms. When the company broke up, about three o'clock, the sun washigh above the horizon. "

{29} A man of eighty years of age is seldom seen on theisland. --_Kerguelen_. 

{30} Kerguelen (writing in 1768) says: "They live during the summerprincipally on cod's heads. A common family make a meal of three or fourcods' heads boiled in sea-water. "--ED. 

{31} This bakehouse is the only one in Iceland, and produces as goodbread and biscuit as any that can be procured in Denmark. [InKerguelen's time (1768) bread was very uncommon in Iceland. It wasbrought from Copenhagen, and consisted of broad thin cakes, orsea-biscuits, made of rye-flour, and extremely black. --ED. ]

{32} In all high latitudes fat oily substances are consumed to a vastextent by the natives. The desire seems to be instinctive, not acquired. A different mode of living would undoubtedly render them more susceptibleto the cold of these inclement regions. Many interesting anecdotes arerelated of the fondness of these hyperborean races for a kind of foodfrom which we would turn in disgust. Before gas was introduced intoEdinburgh, and the city was lighted by oil-lamps, several Russiannoblemen visited that metropolis; and it is said that their longing forthe luxury of train-oil became one evening so intense, that, unable toprocure the delicacy in any other way, they emptied the oil-lamps. Parryrelates that when he was wintering in the Arctic regions, one of theseamen, who had been smitten with the charms of an Esquimaux lady, wishedto make her a present, and knowing the taste peculiar to those regions, he gave her with all due honours a pound of candles, six to the pound!The present was so acceptable to the lady, that she eagerly devoured thelot in the presence of her wondering admirer. --ED. 

{33} An American travelling in Iceland in 1852 thus describes, in aletter to the _Boston Post_, the mode of travelling:--"All travel is onhorseback. Immense numbers of horses are raised in the country, and theyare exceedingly cheap. As for travelling on foot, even short journeys, no one ever thinks of it. The roads are so bad for walking, andgenerally so good for riding that shoe-leather, to say nothing offatigue, would cost nearly as much as horse-flesh. Their horses aresmall, compact, hardy little animals, a size larger than Shetland ponies, but rarely exceeding from 12 or 13. 5 hands high. A stranger intravelling must always have a 'guide, ' and if he does go equipped for agood journey and intends to make good speed, he wants as many as sixhorses; one for himself, one for the guide, one for the luggage, andthree relay horses. Then when one set of horses are tired the saddlesare exchanged to the others. The relay horses are tied together and areeither led or driven before the others. A tent is often carried, unlessa traveller chooses to chance it for his lodgings. Such an article as anhotel is not kept in Iceland out of the capital. You must also carryyour provisions with you, as you will be able to get but little on yourroute. Plenty of milk can be had, and some fresh-water fish. Theluggage is carried in trunks that are hung on each side of the horse, ona rude frame that serves as a pack-saddle. Under this, broad pieces ofturf are placed to prevent galling the horse's back. "

{34} The down of the eider-duck forms a most important and valuablearticle of Icelandic commerce. It is said that the weight of downprocurable from each nest is about half a pound, which is reducedone-half by cleansing. The down is sold at about twelve shillings perpound, so that the produce of each nest is about three shillings. Theeider-duck is nearly as large as the common goose; and some have beenfound on the Fern Islands, off the coast of Northumberland. --ED. 

{35} The same remark applies with equal force to many people who are notIcelanders. It was once the habit among a portion of the population ofLancashire, on returning from market, to carry their goods in a bagattached to one end of a string slung over their shoulders, which wasbalanced by a bag containing a stone at the other. Some time ago, it waspointed out to a worthy man thus returning from market, that it would beeasier for him to throw away the stone, and make half of his load balancethe other half, but the advice was rejected with disdain; the plan he hadadopted was that of his forefathers, and he would on no account departfrom it. --ED. 

{36} The description of the Wolf's Hollow occurs in the second act of_Der Freyschutz_, when Rodolph sings:

 "How horrid, dark, and wild, and drear, Doth this gaping gulf appear! It seems the hue of hell to wear. The bellowing thunder bursts yon clouds, The moon with blood has stained her light! What forms are those in misty shrouds, That stalk before my sight? And now, hush! hush! The owl is hooting in yon bush; How yonder oak-tree's blasted arms Upon me seem to frown! My heart recoils, but all alarms Are vain: fate calls, I must down, down. "

{37} The reader must bear in mind that, during the season of which Ispeak, there is no twilight, much less night, in Iceland. 

{38} The springs of Carlsbad are said to have been unknown until aboutfive hundred years ago, when a hunting-dog belonging to one of theemperors of Germany fell in, and by his howling attracted the hunters tothe spot. The temperature of the chief spring is 165 degrees. --ED. 

{39} History tells of this great Icelandic poet, that owing to histreachery the free island of Iceland came beneath the Norwegian sceptre. For this reason he could never appear in Iceland without a strong guard, and therefore visited the Allthing under the protection of a small armyof 600 men. Being at length surprised by his enemies in his house atReikiadal, he fell beneath their blows, after a short and ineffectualresistance. [Snorri Sturluson, the most distinguished name of whichIceland can boast, was born, in 1178, at Hoam. In his early years he wasremarkably fortunate in his worldly affairs. The fortune he derived fromhis father was small, but by means of a rich marriage, and byinheritance, he soon became proprietor of large estates in Iceland. Somewriters say that his guard of 600 men, during his visit to the Allthing, was intended not as a defence, as indicated in Madame Pfeiffer's note, but for the purposes of display, and to impress the inhabitants withforcible ideas of his influence and power. He was invited to the courtof the Norwegian king, and there he either promised or was bribed tobring Iceland under the Norwegian power. For this he has been greatlyblamed, and stigmatised as a traitor; though it would appear from somehistorians that he only undertook to do by peaceable means what otherwisethe Norwegian kings would have effected by force, and thus saved hiscountry from a foreign invasion. But be this as it may, it is quiteclear that he sunk in the estimation of his countrymen, and the feelingagainst him became so strong, that he was obliged to fly to Norway. Hereturned, however, in 1239, and in two years afterwards he wasassassinated by his own son-in-law. The work by which he is chieflyknown is the _Heimskringla_, or Chronicle of the Sea-Kings of Norway, oneof the most valuable pieces of northern history, which has been admirablytranslated into English by Mr. Samuel Laing. This curious name ofHeimskringla was given to the work because it contains the words withwhich begins, and means literally _the circle of the world_. --ED. ]

{40} A translation of this poem will be found in the Appendix. [Notincluded in this Gutenberg eText--DP]

{41} In Iceland, as in Denmark, it is the custom to keep the dead a weekabove ground. It may be readily imagined that to a non-Icelandic senseof smell, it is an irksome task to be present at a burial from beginningto end, and especially in summer. But I will not deny that the continuedsensation may have partly proceeded from imagination. 

{42} Every one in Iceland rides. 

{43} I cannot forbear mentioning a curious circumstance here. When Iwas at the foot of Mount Etna in 1842, the fiery element was calmed; somemonths after my departure it flamed with renewed force. When, on myreturn from Hecla, I came to Reikjavik, I said jocularly that it would bemost strange if this Etna of the north should also have an eruption now. Scarcely had I left Iceland more than five weeks when an eruption, moreviolent than the former one, really took place. This circumstance is themore remarkable, as it had been in repose for eighty years, and wasalready looked upon as a burnt-out volcano. If I were to return toIceland now, I should be looked upon as a prophetess of evil, and my lifewould scarcely be safe. 

{44} Every peasant in tolerably good circumstances carries a little tentwith him when he leaves home for a few days. These tents are, at theutmost, three feet high, five or six feet long, and three broad. 

{45} "Though their poverty disables them from imitating the hospitalityof their ancestors in all respects, yet the desire of doing it stillexists: they cheerfully give away the little they have to spare, andexpress the utmost joy and satisfaction if you are pleased with thegift. " _Uno von Troil_, 1772. --ED. 

{46} The presence of American ships in the port of Gottenburg is not tobe wondered at, seeing that nearly three-fourths of all the iron exportedfrom Gottenburg is to America. --ED. 

{47} "St. Stephen's steeple" is 450 feet high, being about 40 feethigher than St. Paul's, and forms part of St. Stephen's Cathedral inVienna, a magnificent Gothic building, that dates as far back as thetwelfth century. It has a great bell, that weighs about eighteen tons, being more than double the weight of the bell in St. Peter's at Rome, andfour times the weight of the "Great Tom of Lincoln. " The metal usedconsisted of cannons taken from the Turks during their memorable siegesof Vienna. The cathedral is 350 feet long and 200 wide, being less thanSt. Paul's in London, which is 510 feet long and 282 wide. --ED. 

{48} The _Storthing_ is the name given to the Norwegian parliament, which assembles once every three years at Christiania. The time andplace of meeting are fixed by law, and the king has no power to preventor postpone its assembly. It consists of about a hundred members, whodivide themselves into two houses. The members must not be under thirtyyears of age, and must have lived for ten years in Norway. The electorsare required to be twenty-five years of age, and to be either burgessesof a town, or to possess property of the annual value of 30_l. _ Themembers must possess the same qualification. The members of theStorthing are usually plain-spoken, sensible men, who have no desire toshine as orators, but who despatch with great native sagacity thebusiness brought before them. This Storthing is the most independentlegislative assembly in Europe; for not only has the king no power toprevent its meeting at the appointed time, but should he refuse to assentto any laws that are passed, these laws come into force without hisassent, provided they are passed by three successive parliaments. --ED. 

{49} The present king of Sweden and Norway is Oscar, one of the fewfortunate scions of those lowly families that were raised to royal powerand dignity by Napoleon. His father, Bernadotte, was the son of anadvocate, and entered the French army as a common soldier; in thatservice he rose to the rank of marshal, and then became crown-prince, andultimately king of Sweden. He died in 1844. The mother of Oscar wasDesiree Clary, a sister of Julie Clary, wife of Joseph Bonaparte, theelder brother of Napoleon. This lady was asked in marriage by Napoleonhimself, but her father refused his assent; and instead of becoming anunfortunate empress of France, she became a fortunate queen of Sweden andNorway. Oscar was born at Paris in 1799, and received his educationchiefly in Hanover. He accompanied his father to Sweden in 1810, andascended the throne on his father's death in 1844. In 1824 he marriedJosephine Beauharnois, daughter of Prince Eugene, and granddaughter ofthe brilliant and fascinating Josephine, the first and best wife ofNapoleon. Oscar is much beloved by his subjects; his administration ismild, just, and equable; and his personal abilities and acquirements arefar beyond the average of crowned heads. --ED. 

{50} Bergen is a town of about twenty-five thousand inhabitants, situated near the Kons Fiord, on the west coast of Norway, and distantabout 350 miles from Christiania. It is the seat of a bishopric, and aplace of very considerable trade, its exports being chiefly fish. It hasgiven its name to a county and a township in the state of New Jersey. There are three other Bergens, --one in the island of Rugen, one in theNetherlands, and another in the electorate of Hesse. 

{51} _Kulle_ is the Swedish for hill. 

{52} Delekarlien is a Swedish province, situated ninety or one hundredmiles north of Stockholm. 

{53} The family of Sturre was one of the most distinguished in Sweden. Sten Sturre introduced printing into Sweden, founded the University ofUpsala, and induced many learned men to come over. He was mortallywounded in a battle against the Danes, and died in 1520. 

His successors as governors, Suante, Nilson Sturre, and his son, StenSturre the younger, still live in the memory of the Swedish nation, andare honoured for their patriotism and valour. 

{54} The University of Upsala is the most celebrated in the north. Itowes its origin to Sten Sturre, the regent of the kingdom, by whom it wasfounded in 1476, on the same plan as the University of Paris. Throughthe influence of the Jesuits, who wished to establish a new academy inStockholm, it was dissolved in 1583, but re-established in 1598. Gustavus Vasa, who was educated at Upsala, gave it many privileges, andmuch encouragement; and Gustavus Adolphus reconstituted it, and give itvery liberal endowments. There are twenty-four professors, and thenumber of students is between four and five hundred. --ED. 

{55} See novel of _Ivar_, _the Skjuts Boy_, by Miss Emilie Carlen. 

{56} At Calmar was concluded, in 1397, the famous treaty which bears itsname, by which Denmark, Sweden, and Norway were united under one crown, that crown placed nominally on the head of Eric Duke of Pomerania, butvirtually on that of his aunt Margaret, who has received the name of "theSemiramis of the North. " --ED. 

{57} There is now a railway direct from Hamburgh to Berlin. --ED. 

{58} A florin is about two shillings sterling. --_Tr. _

{59} Herr T. Scheffer of Modling, near Vienna, gives the followingcharacteristic of this new dipteral animal, which belongs to the familymuscidae, and resembles the species borborus:

_Antennae_ deflexae, breves, triarticulatae, articulo ultimo phoereco;seda nuda. 

_Hypoctoma_ subprominulum, fronte lata, setosa. _Oculi_ rotundi, remoti. Abdomen quinque annulatum, dorso nudo. _Tarsi_ simplices. _Alae_incumbentes, abdomine longiores, nervo primo simplici. 

Niger, abdomine nitido, antennis pedibusque rufopiceis.