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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:14 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:14 -0700 |
| commit | b1e642e0ec86ece4038e9966d2ceb993d9d854ba (patch) | |
| tree | 3fda68da0f0575d82f7690a73cfa1c4b93b9cf9e /28329-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '28329-h')
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diff --git a/28329-h/28329-h.htm b/28329-h/28329-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..ad97031 --- /dev/null +++ b/28329-h/28329-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,21511 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Land of Thor, by J. Ross Browne. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> + + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + a {text-decoration: none;} + + img {border: none;} + + em {font-style: italic;} + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-style: normal; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding: 1em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps; font-style: normal;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold; font-size: 95%; text-align: center; padding-bottom: 1em;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 1em;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; width: auto; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: .2em; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i3 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + + .tdl {text-align: left; vertical-align: bottom;} /* left align cell */ + .tdrt {text-align: right; vertical-align: top;} /* right top align cell */ + .tdrb {text-align: right; vertical-align: bottom;} /* right bottom align cell */ + + .xlfont {font-size: 150%;} + .lrgfont {font-size: 120%;} + .smlfont {font-size: 90%;} + + .padtop {padding-top: 3em;} + .padbase {padding-bottom: 3em;} + .smlpadt {padding-top: 1em;} + + .frontads {margin-left: 25%; margin-right: 25%;} + .backads {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .hang {margin-left: 2em; text-indent: -2em;} + .indent {margin-left: 2em;} + + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land of Thor, by J. Ross Browne + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Land of Thor + +Author: J. Ross Browne + +Release Date: March 15, 2009 [EBook #28329] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF THOR *** + + + + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + + +<h1 class="padtop"><small>THE</small><br /> +<br /> +<span class="lrgfont">LAND OF THOR.</span></h1> + +<p class="center padtop">BY</p> + +<h2 class="padtop">J. ROSS BROWNE,</h2> + +<p class="center">AUTHOR OF</p> + +<p class="center">“YUSEF,” “CRUSOE’S ISLAND,” “AN AMERICAN FAMILY IN<br /> +GERMANY,” ETC.</p> + + +<p class="center padtop">Illustrated by the Author.</p> + + +<p class="center padtop">NEW YORK:<br /> +<span class="smlfont">HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS,</span><br /> +<small>FRANKLIN SQUARE.</small><br /> +1867.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center padtop"><span class="smcap">By</span> J. ROSS BROWNE.</p> + +<div class="frontads"> +<p class="hang">AN AMERICAN FAMILY IN GERMANY. Illustrated by the +Author. 12mo, Cloth, $2 00.</p> + +<p class="hang">THE LAND OF THOR. Illustrated by the Author. 12mo, +Cloth, $2 00.</p> + +<p class="hang">CRUSOE’S ISLAND: A Ramble in the Footsteps of Alexander +Selkirk. With Sketches of Adventure in California and Washoe. +Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth. $1 75.</p> + +<p class="hang">YUSEF; or, The Journey of the Frangi. A Crusade in the East. +With Illustrations. 12mo, Cloth, $1 75.</p> +</div> + +<p class="center smcap padbase">Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.</p> + +<hr style="width: 15%;" /> + +<div class="frontads"> +<p class="padtop padbase">Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight +hundred and sixty-seven, by <span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span>, in the Clerk’s Office of +the District Court of the Southern District of New York.</p> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[iii]</a></span></p> + +<h2>CONTENTS.</h2> + + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="Table of contents"> + <tr> + <td class="tdrb"><small>CHAPTER</small></td> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrb"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">I.</td> + <td class="tdl">IMPRESSIONS OF ST. PETERSBURG</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">9</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">II.</td> + <td class="tdl">A PLEASANT EXCURSION</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">25</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">III.</td> + <td class="tdl">VIEWS ON THE MOSCOW RAILWAY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">39</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IV.</td> + <td class="tdl">MOSCOW</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">52</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">V.</td> + <td class="tdl">TEA-DRINKING</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">60</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VI.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE PETERSKOI GARDENS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">65</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VII.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE “LITTLE WATER”</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">73</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">VIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE MARKETS OF MOSCOW</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">77</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">IX.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE NOSE REGIMENT</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">X.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE EMPEROR’S BEAR-HUNT</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">92</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XI.</td> + <td class="tdl">RUSSIAN HUMOR</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">97</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XII.</td> + <td class="tdl">A MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURE</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">104</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE DENOUEMENT</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">125</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIV.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE KREMLIN</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">134</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XV.</td> + <td class="tdl">RUSSIAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">155</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVI.</td> + <td class="tdl">DESPOTISM <i>versus</i> SERFDOM</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">165</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVII.</td> + <td class="tdl">REFORM IN RUSSIA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">170</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">A BOND OF SYMPATHY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">185</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XIX.</td> + <td class="tdl">CIVILIZATION IN RUSSIA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">193</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XX.</td> + <td class="tdl">PASSAGE TO REVEL</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XX">209</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXI.</td> + <td class="tdl">REVEL AND HELSINGFORS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">218</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXII.</td> + <td class="tdl">A BATHING SCENE</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">227</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">ABO—FINLAND</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">236</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl">STOCKHOLM</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">248</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXV.</td> + <td class="tdl">WALKS ABOUT STOCKHOLM</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">262</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVI.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE GOTHA CANAL</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">272</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVII.</td> + <td class="tdl">VOYAGE TO CHRISTIANA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">291</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">FROM CHRISTIANIA TO LILLEHAMMER</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">302</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXIX.</td> + <td class="tdl">HOW THEY TRAVEL IN NORWAY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">310</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXX.</td> + <td class="tdl">A NORWEGIAN GIRL</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">317</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXI.</td> + <td class="tdl">HOW THEY LIVE</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">335</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXII.</td> + <td class="tdl">JOHN BULL ABROAD</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">354</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">WOMEN IN NORWAY AND GERMANY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">361</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIV.</td> + <td class="tdl">DOWN THE DRIVSDAL</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">368</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXV.</td> + <td class="tdl">A NORWEGIAN HORSE-JOCKEY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">372</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iv" id="Page_iv">[iv]</a></span>XXXVI.</td> + <td class="tdl">OUT OF MONEY</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">381</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVII.</td> + <td class="tdl">ICELANDIC TRAVEL</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">383</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">387</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XXXIX.</td> + <td class="tdl">VOYAGE TO SCOTLAND</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">398</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XL.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE JOLLY BLOODS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XL">404</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLI.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE FAROE ISLANDS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLI">408</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLII.</td> + <td class="tdl">FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF ICELAND</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLII">426</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">REYKJAVIK, THE CAPITAL OF ICELAND</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIII">431</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLIV.</td> + <td class="tdl">GEIR ZÖEGA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIV">440</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLV.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE ENGLISH TOURISTS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLV">445</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLVI.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE ROAD TO THINGVALLA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVI">449</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLVII.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE ALMANNAJAU</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVII">465</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLVIII.</td> + <td class="tdl">THINGVALLA</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLVIII">476</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">XLIX.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE ROAD TO THE GEYSERS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_XLIX">490</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">L.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE GEYSERS</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_L">503</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">LI.</td> + <td class="tdl">THE ENGLISH SPORTS IN TROUBLE</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_LI">527</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdrt">LII.</td> + <td class="tdl">A FRIGHTFUL ADVENTURE</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#CHAPTER_LII">537</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[v]</a></span></p> + +<h2>LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2> + + +<table border="0" cellpadding="2" cellspacing="0" width="60%" summary="List of illustrations"> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"> </td> + <td class="tdrb"><small>PAGE</small></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Laborers and Shipwrights</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#laborers_and_shipwrights">10</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Russian and Finn</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#russian_and_finn">11</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cooper’s Shop and Residence</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#coopers_shop_and_residence">15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Merchant, Peddlers and Coachman</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#merchant_peddlers_and_coachman">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Istrovoschiks</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#istrovoschiks">21</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Fish Peddler</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fish_peddler">29</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Young Peasants</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#young_peasants">31</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dvornick and Postman</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#dvornick_and_postman">35</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Glazier, Painter, Carpenters</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#glazier_painter_carpenters">37</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Hay Gatherers</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#hay_gatherers">46</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Prisoners for Siberia</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#prisoners_for_siberia">58</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Tea-sellers</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#tea_sellers">61</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mujiks at Tea</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mujiks_at_tea">63</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Russian Theatre</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#russian_theatre">68</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Peterskoi Gardens</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_peterskoi_gardens">72</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Vodka</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#vodka">75</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Old-clothes’ Market</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#old_clothes_market">78</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Cabinet-makers</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#cabinet_makers">84</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Pigs, Pups, and Pans</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#pigs_pups_and_pans">87</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Imperial Nosegay</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#imperial_nosegay">90</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Skinned and Stuffed Man</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#skinned_and_stuffed_man">100</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Frozen Animals in the Market</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#frozen_animals_in_the_market">101</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Mujik and Cats</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#mujik_and_cats">103</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Effects of “Little Water”</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#effects_of_little_water">111</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Russian Beggars</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#russian_beggars">115</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Gambling Saloon</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#gambling_saloon">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Passage of Politeness</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_passage_of_politeness">157</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Serfs</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#serfs">168</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">In Norseland</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#in_norseland">292</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Steamer entering the Fjord</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_steamer_entering_the_fjord">295</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Coast of Norway</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#coast_of_norway">297</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Islands</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_islands">299</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Approach to Christiania</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#approach_to_christiania">303</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Station-house, Logen Valley</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#station_house_logen_valley">313</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Station-boy</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#station_boy">321</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[vi]</a></span>“Good-by—Many Thanks!”</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#good_by_many_thanks">322</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Norwegian Peasant Family</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#norwegian_peasant_family">324</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Post-girl</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_post_girl">330</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Waiting for a Nibble</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#waiting_for_a_nibble">341</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Snow-plow</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#snow_plow">344</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Drinking Bout</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_drinking_bout">345</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Norwegian Farm</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_norwegian_farm">347</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Norwegian Church</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#norwegian_church">348</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Parish Schoolmaster</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#parish_schoolmaster">349</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Dovre Fjeld</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#dovre_fjeld">353</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Playing him out</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#playing_him_out">356</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">English Sportsman</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#english_sportsman">358</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Bear Chase</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bear_chase">359</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Peasant Women at Work</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#peasant_women_at_work">360</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Wheeling Girls</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#wheeling_girls">363</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Justice of the Peace</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#justice_of_the_peace">365</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Model Landlord</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#model_landlord">367</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Drivsdal Valley</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#drivsdal_valley">369</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Passage on the Driv</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#passage_on_the_driv">371</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Prize</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_prize">375</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Traveling on Foot</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#traveling_on_foot">382</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The great Geyser</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_great_geyser">385</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Hans Christian Andersen</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#hans_christian_andersen">394</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Dandy Tourist</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_dandy_tourist">406</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Thorshavn</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#thorshavn">407</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">View in Faroe Islands</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#view_in_faroe_islands">409</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Faroese Children</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#faroese_children">412</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Faroese Islanders</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#faroese_islanders">414</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Kirk Göboe</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#kirk_goboe">421</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Farm-house and Ruins</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#farm_house_and_ruins">423</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Faroese on Horseback</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#faroese_on_horseback">425</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Natural Bridge</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#natural_bridge">427</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Coast of Iceland</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#coast_of_iceland">429</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Meal-sack</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_meal_sack">430</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Reykjavik, the Capital of Iceland</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#reykjavik_the_capital_of_iceland">432</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Governor’s Residence, Reykjavik</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#governors_residence_reykjavik">434</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Icelandic Houses</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#icelandic_houses">435</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Church at Reykjavik</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#church_at_reykjavik">436</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Icelanders at Work</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#icelanders_at_work">438</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Geir Zöega</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#geir_zoega">441</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Icelandic Horses</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#icelandic_horses">443</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">English Party at Reykjavik</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#english_party_at_reykjavik">447</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">A Rough Road</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#a_rough_road">451</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Taking Snuff</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#taking_snuff">454</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">An Icelandic Bog</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#an_icelandic_bog">459</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[vii]</a></span>Geir Zöega and Brusa</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#geir_zoega_and_brusa">463</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Entrance to the Almannajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#entrance_to_the_almannajau">466</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Almannajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_almannajau">467</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Skeleton View of the Almannajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#skeleton_view_of_the_almannajau">469</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Outline View of Thingvalla</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#outline_view_of_thingvalla">470</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Fall of the Almannajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#fall_of_the_almannajau">472</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Icelandic Shepherd-girl</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#icelandic_shepherd_girl">473</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Church at Thingvalla</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#church_at_thingvalla">477</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Pastor’s House</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_pastors_house">479</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Pastor of Thingvalla</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_pastor_of_thingvalla">485</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Skeleton View of the Lögberg</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#skeleton_view_of_the_logberg">488</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Thingvalla, Lögberg, Almannajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#thingvalla_logberg_almannajau">489</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Diagram of the Lögberg</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#diagram_of_the_logberg">490</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">An Artist at Home</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#an_artist_at_home">492</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Lava-fjelds</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#lava_fjelds">494</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Effigy in Lava</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#effigy_in_lava">495</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Hrafnajau</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_hrafnajau">497</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Tintron Rock</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_tintron_rock">499</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Bridge River</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#bridge_river">502</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Shepherd and Family</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#shepherd_and_family">506</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The Strokhr</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_strokhr">516</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Side-saddle</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#side_saddle">519</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Great Geyser and Receiver</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#geysers_and_receivers">525</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Strokhr and Receiver</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#geysers_and_receivers">525</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">“Oh-o-o-ah!”</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#oh_o_o_ah">529</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">The English Party</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#the_english_party">533</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">Interior of Icelandic Hut</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#interior_of_icelandic_hut">536</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdl">An Awkward Predicament</td> + <td class="tdrb"><a href="#an_awkward_predicament">540</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[9]</a></span></p> + +<h1 class="padtop">THE LAND OF THOR.</h1> + + + +<h2 class="padtop"><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h2> + +<h3>IMPRESSIONS OF ST. PETERSBURG.</h3> + + +<p>I landed at St. Petersburg with a knapsack on my +back and a hundred dollars in my pocket. An extensive +tour along the borders of the Arctic Circle was before +me, and it was necessary I should husband my resources.</p> + +<p>In my search for a cheap German gasthaus I walked +nearly all over the city. My impressions were probably +tinctured by the circumstances of my position, but it +seemed to me I had never seen so strange a place.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="laborers_and_shipwrights" id="laborers_and_shipwrights"></a> +<img src="images/thor001.png" width="600" height="402" +alt="Four men gather around a table; a couple sit at another table nearby" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">LABORERS AND SHIPWRIGHTS.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 317px;"> +<a name="russian_and_finn" id="russian_and_finn"></a> +<img src="images/thor002.png" width="317" height="400" +alt="Two men talk in the street" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">RUSSIAN AND FINN.</p> + +<p>The best streets of St. Petersburg resemble on an inferior +scale the best parts of Paris, Berlin, and Vienna. +Nothing in the architecture conveys any idea of national +taste except the glittering cupolas of the churches, the +showy colors of the houses, and the vast extent and ornamentation +of the palaces. The general aspect of the +city is that of immense level space. Built upon islands, +cut up into various sections by the branches of the Neva, +intersected by canals, destitute of eminent points of observation, +the whole city has a scattered and incongruous +effect—an incomprehensible remoteness about it, as +if one might continually wander about without finding +the centre. Some parts, of course, are better than others; +some streets are indicative of wealth and luxury; +but without a guide it is extremely difficult to determine +whether there are not still finer buildings and quarters +in the main part of the city—if you could only get at it. +The eye wanders continually in search of heights and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[11]</a></span> +prominent objects. Even the Winter Palace, the Admiralty, +and the Izaak Church lose much of their grandeur +in the surrounding deserts of space from the absence of +contrast with familiar and tangible objects. It is only +by a careful examination in detail that one can become +fully sensible of their extraordinary magnificence. Vast +streets of almost interminable length, lined by insignificant +two-story houses with green roofs and yellow walls; +vast open squares or ploschads; palaces, public buildings, +and churches, dwindled down to mere toy-work in the +deserts of space intervening; countless throngs of citizens +and carriages scarcely bigger than ants to the eye; +broad sheets of water, dotted with steamers, brigs, barks, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[12]</a></span> +wood-barges and row-boats, still infinitesimal in the distance; +long rows of trees, forming a foliage to some of +the principal promenades, with glimpses of gardens and +shrubbery at remote intervals; canals and dismal green +swamps—not all at one sweep of the eye, but visible from +time to time in the course of an afternoon’s ramble, are +the most prominent characteristics of this wonderful city. +A vague sense of loneliness impresses the traveler from +a distant land—as if in his pilgrimage through foreign +climes he had at length wandered into the midst of a +strange and peculiar civilization—a boundless desert of +wild-looking streets, a waste of colossal palaces, of gilded +churches and glistening waters, all perpetually dwindling +away before him in the infinity of space. He sees +a people strange and unfamiliar in costume and expression; +fierce, stern-looking officers, rigid in features, closely +shaved, and dressed in glittering uniforms; grave, +long-bearded priests, with square-topped black turbans, +their flowing black drapery trailing in the dust; pale +women richly and elegantly dressed, gliding unattended +through mazes of the crowd; rough, half-savage serfs, in +dirty pink shirts, loose trowsers, and big boots, bowing +down before the shrines on the bridges and public +places; the drosky drivers, with their long beards, small +bell-shaped hats, long blue coats and fire-bucket boots, +lying half asleep upon their rusty little vehicles awaiting +a customer, or dashing away at a headlong pace over the +rough cobble-paved streets, and so on of every class and +kind. The traveler wanders about from place to place, +gazing into the strange faces he meets, till the sense of +loneliness becomes oppressive. An invisible but impassable +barrier seems to stand between him and the moving +multitude. He hears languages that fall without a meaning +upon his ear; wonders at the soft inflections of the +voices; vainly seeks some familiar look or word; thinks +it strange that he alone should be cut off from all communion +with the souls of men around him; and then +wonders if they have souls like other people, and why +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[13]</a></span> +there is no kindred expression in their faces—no visible +consciousness of a common humanity. It is natural that +every stranger in a strange city should experience this +feeling to some extent, but I know of no place where it +seems so strikingly the case as in St. Petersburg. Accustomed +as I was to strange cities and strange languages, +I never felt utterly lonely until I reached this great mart +of commerce and civilization. The costly luxury of the +palaces; the wild Tartaric glitter of the churches; the +tropical luxuriance of the gardens; the brilliant equipages +of the nobility; the display of military power; the +strange and restless throngs forever moving through +the haunts of business and pleasure; the uncouth costumes +of the lower classes, and the wonderful commingling +of sumptuous elegance and barbarous filth, visible +in almost every thing, produced a singular feeling of mingled +wonder and isolation—as if the solitary traveler +were the only person in the world who was not permitted +to comprehend the spirit and import of the scene, or +take a part in the great drama of life in which all others +seemed to be engaged. I do not know if plain, practical +men are generally so easily impressed by external objects, +but I must confess that when I trudged along the +streets with my knapsack on my back, looking around in +every direction for a gasthaus; when I spoke to people +in my peculiar style of French and German, and received +unintelligible answers in Russian; when I got lost among +palaces and grand military establishments, instead of +finding the gasthaus, and finally attracted the attention +of the surly-looking guards, who were stationed about +every where, by the anxious pertinacity with which I examined +every building, a vague notion began to get possession +of me that I was a sort of outlaw, and would +sooner or later be seized and dragged before the Czar for +daring to enter such a magnificent city in such an uncouth +and unbecoming manner. When I cast my eyes +up at the sign-boards, and read about grand fabrications +and steam-companies, and walked along the quays of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[14]</a></span> +Neva, and saw wood enough piled up in big broad-bottomed +boats to satisfy the wants of myself and family for ten +thousand years; when I strolled into the Nevskoi, and jostled +my way through crowds of nobles, officers, soldiers, +dandies, and commoners, stopping suddenly at every picture-shop, +gazing dreamily into the gorgeous millinery +establishments, pondering thoughtfully over the glittering +wares of the jewelers, lagging moodily by the grand +cafés, and snuffing reflectively the odors that came from +the grand restaurations—when all this occurred, and I +went down into a beer-cellar and made acquaintance with +a worthy German, and he asked me if I had any meerschaums +to sell, the notion that I had no particular business +in so costly and luxurious a place began to grow +stronger than ever. A kind of dread came over me that +the mighty spirit of Peter the Great would come riding +through the scorching hot air on a gale of snowflakes, at +the head of a bloody phalanx of Muscovites, and, rising +in his stirrups as he approached, would demand of me in +a voice of thunder, “Stranger, how much money have +you got?” to which I could only answer, “Sublime and +potent Czar, taking the average value of my Roaring +Grizzly, Dead Broke, Gone Case, and Sorrowful Countenance, +and placing it against the present value of Russian +securities, I consider it within the bounds of reason +to say that I hold about a million of rubles!” But if he +should insist upon an exhibit of ready cash—there was +the rub! It absolutely made me feel weak in the knees +to think of it. Indeed, a horrid suspicion seized me, after +I had crossed the bridge and begun to renew my search +for a cheap gasthaus on the Vassoli Ostrou, that every fat, +neatly-shaved man I met, with small gray eyes, a polished +hat on his head drawn a little over his brow, his lips +compressed, and his coat buttoned closely around his +body, was a rich banker, and that he was saying to himself +as I passed, “That fellow with the slouched hat and +the knapsack is a suspicious character, to say the least +of him. It becomes my duty to warn the police of his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[16]</a></span> +movements. I suspect him to be a Hungarian refugee.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="coopers_shop_and_residence" id="coopers_shop_and_residence"></a> +<img src="images/thor003.png" width="600" height="431" +alt="Women work at household chores while men make barrels" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">COOPER’S SHOP AND RESIDENCE.</p> + +<p>With some difficulty, I succeeded at length in finding +just such a place as I desired—clean and comfortable +enough, considering the circumstances, and not unusually +fertile in vermin for a city like St. Petersburg, which +produces all kinds of troublesome insects spontaneously. +There was this advantage in my quarters, in addition to +their cheapness—that the proprietor and attendants spoke +several of the Christian languages, including German, +which, of all languages in the world, is the softest and +most euphonious to my ear—when I am away from +Frankfort. Besides, my room was very advantageously +arranged for a solitary traveler. Being about eight feet +square, with only one small window overlooking the back +yard, and effectually secured by iron fastenings, so that +nobody could open it, there was no possibility of thieves +getting in and robbing me when the door was shut and +locked on the inside. Its closeness presented an effectual +barrier against the night air, which in these high +northern latitudes is considered extremely unwholesome +to sleep in. With the thermometer at 100 degrees Fahrenheit, +the atmosphere, to be sure, was a little sweltering +during the day, and somewhat thick by night, but +that was an additional advantage, inasmuch as it forced +the occupant to stay out most of the time and see a great +deal more of the town than he could possibly see in his +room.</p> + +<p>Having deposited my knapsack and put my extra shirt +in the wash, you will now be kind enough to consider +me the shade of Virgil, ready to lead you, after the +fashion of Dante, through the infernal regions or any +where else within the bounds of justice, even through +St. Petersburg, where the climate in summer is hot +enough to satisfy almost any body. The sun shines +here, in June and July, for twenty hours a day, and +even then scarcely disappears beneath the horizon. I +never experienced such sweltering weather in any part +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[17]</a></span> +of the world except Aspinwall. One is fairly boiled with +the heat, and might be wrung out like a wet rag. Properly +speaking, the day commences for respectable people, +and men of enterprising spirit—tourists, pleasure-seekers, +gamblers, vagabonds, and the like—about nine +or ten o’clock at night, and continues till about four or +five o’clock the next morning. It is then St. Petersburg +fairly turns out; then the beauty and fashion of the city +unfold their wings and flit through the streets, or float +in Russian gondolas upon the glistening waters of the +Neva; then it is the little steamers skim about from +island to island, freighted with a population just waked +up to a realizing sense of the pleasures of existence; +then is the atmosphere balmy, and the light wonderfully +soft and richly tinted; then come the sweet witching +hours, when</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">“Shady nooks<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Patiently give up their quiet being.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>None but the weary, labor-worn serf, who has toiled +through the long day in the fierce rays of the sun, can +sleep such nights as these. I call them nights, yet +what a strange mistake. The sunshine still lingers in +the heavens with a golden glow; the evening vanishes +dreamily in the arms of the morning; there is nothing +to mark the changes—all is soft, gradual, and illusory. +A peculiar and almost supernatural light glistens upon +the gilded domes of the churches; the glaring waters of +the Neva are alive with gondolas; miniature steamers +are flying through the winding channels of the islands; +strains of music float upon the air; gay and festive +throngs move along the promenades of the Nevskoi; +gilded and glittering equipages pass over the bridges +and disappear in the shadowy recesses of the islands. +Whatever may be unseemly in life is covered by a rich +and mystic drapery of twilight. The floating bath-houses +of the Neva, with their variegated tressel-work +and brilliant colors, resemble fairy palaces; and the plashing +of the bathers falls upon the ear like the gambols +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[19]</a></span> +of water-spirits. Not far from the Izaak Bridge, the +equestrian statue of Peter the Great stands out in bold +relief on a pedestal of granite; the mighty Czar, casting +an eagle look over the waters of the Neva, while his +noble steed rears over the yawning precipice in front, +crushing a serpent beneath his hoof. The spirit of Peter +the Great still lives throughout Russia; but it is better +understood in the merciless blasts of winter than in the +soft glow of the summer nights.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="merchant_peddlers_and_coachman" id="merchant_peddlers_and_coachman"></a> +<img src="images/thor004.png" width="600" height="487" +alt="Three men look on as two others play a card game" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MERCHANT, PEDDLERS, AND COACHMAN.</p> + +<p>Wander with me now, and let us take a look at the +Winter Palace—the grandest pile, perhaps, ever built by +human hands. Six thousand people occupy it during the +long winter months, and well they may, for it is a city of +palaces in itself. Fronting the Neva, it occupies a space +of several acres, its massive walls richly decorated with +ornamental designs, a forest of chimneys on top—the +whole pile forming an immense oblong square so grand, +so massive, so wonderfully rich and varied in its details, +that the imagination is lost in a colossal wilderness of +architectural beauties. Standing in the open plozchad, +we may gaze at this magnificent pile for hours, and +dream over it, and picture to our minds the scenes of +splendor its inner walls have witnessed; the royal <i>fêtes</i> +of the Czars; the courtly throngs that have filled its +halls; the vast treasures expended in erecting it; the +enslaved multitudes, now low in the dust, who have left +this monument to speak of human pride, and the sweat +and toil that pride must feed upon; and while we gaze +and dream thus, a mellow light comes down from the +firmament, and the mighty Czars, and their palaces, and +armies, and navies, and worldly strifes, what are they in +the presence of the everlasting Power? For “it is he +that sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants +thereof are as grasshoppers.”</p> + +<p>But these dreamings and these wanderings through +this city of palaces would be endless. We may feast our +eyes upon the Admiralty, the Winter Palace, the Marble +Palace, the Senate-house, the palace of the Grand-duke +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[20]</a></span> +Michael, the Column of Alexander, the colleges, universities, +imperial gardens and summer-houses, and, after +all, we can only feel that they are built upon the necks +of an enslaved people; that the mightiest Czars of Russia, +in common with the poorest serfs, are but “as grasshoppers +upon the earth.”</p> + +<p>The <i>istrovoschik</i> (sneeze and you have the word)—in +plain English, the drosky drivers—are a notable feature +in St. Petersburg. When I saw them for the first time +on the quay of the Wassaly Ostrow, where the steamer +from Stettin lands her passengers, the idea naturally impressed +my mind that I had fallen among a brotherhood +of Pilgrims or Druids. Nothing could be more unique +than the incongruity of their costume and occupation. +Every man looked like a priest; his long beard, his grave +expression of countenance, his little black hat and flowing +blue coat, gathered around the waist by means of a sash, +his glazed boots reaching above the knees, his slow and +measured motions, and the sublime indifference with +which he regarded his customers, were singularly impressive. +Even the filth and rustiness which formed the +most prominent characteristics of the class contributed +to the delusion that they might have sprung from a +Druidical source, and gathered their dust of travel on +the pilgrimage from remote ages down to the present +period. It is really something novel, in the line of hackery, +to see those sedate fellows sitting on their little +droskys awaiting a customer. The force of competition, +however, has of late years committed sad inroads upon +their dignity, and now they are getting to be about as +enterprising and pertinacious as any of their kindred in +other parts of the world. The drosky is in itself a curiosity +as a means of locomotion. Like the driver, it is +generally dirty and dilapidated; but here the similitude +ends; for, while the former is often high, his drosky is +always low. The wheels are not bigger than those of +an ordinary dog-cart, and the seat is only designed for +one person, though on a pinch it can accommodate two. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[21]</a></span> +Generally it consists of a plank covered with a cushion, +extending lengthwise in the same direction as the horse, +so that the rider sits astride of it as if riding on horseback; +some, however, have been modernized so as to +afford a more convenient seat in the usual way. Night +and day these droskys are every where to be seen, sometimes +drawn up by the sidewalk, the driver asleep, awaiting +a customer, but more frequently rattling full tilt over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[22]</a></span> +the pavements (the roughest in the world) with a load, +consisting, in nine cases out of ten, of a fat old gentleman +in military uniform, a very ugly old lady with +a lapdog, or a very dashy young lady glittering with +jewels, on her way, perhaps, to the Confiseur’s or somewhere +else. But in a city like St. Petersburg, where it +is at least two or three miles from one place to another, +every body with twenty kopecks in his pocket uses the +drosky. It is the most convenient and economical mode +of locomotion for all ordinary purposes, hence the number +of them is very large. On some of the principal +streets it is marvelous how they wind their way at such +a rattling pace through the crowd. To a stranger unacquainted +with localities, they are a great convenience. +And here, you see, commences the gist of the story.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<a name="istrovoschiks" id="istrovoschiks"></a> +<img src="images/thor005.png" width="397" height="500" +alt="Two drosky drivers stand and talk together" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ISTROVOSCHIKS.</p> + +<p>On a certain occasion I called a drosky-man and directed +him to drive me to the United States Consulate. +Having never been there myself, I depended solely upon +the intelligence and enterprise of the istrovoschik. My +knowledge of the Russian consisted of three words—the +name of the street and <i>dratzall kopeck</i>, the latter being +the stipulated fare of twenty kopecks. By an affirmative +signal the driver gave me to understand that he +fully comprehended my wishes, and, with a flourish of +his whip, away we started. After driving me nearly all +over the city of St. Petersburg—a pretty extensive city, +as any body will find who undertakes to walk through it—this +adroit and skillful whipster, who had never uttered +a word from the time of starting, now deliberately +drew up his drosky on the corner of a principal street +and began a conversation. I repeated the name of the +street in which the consulate was located, and <i>dratzall +kopeck</i>. The driver gazed in my face with a grave and +placid countenance, stroked his long beard, tucked the +skirts of his long blue coat under him, and drove on +again. After rattling over a series of the most frightful +cobble-stone pavements ever designed as an improvement +in a great city, through several new quarters, he again +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[23]</a></span> +stopped and treated me to some more remarks in his +native language. I answered as before, the name of the +street. He shook his head with discouraging gravity. +I then remarked <i>dratzall kopeck</i>. From the confused +answer he made, which occupied at least ten minutes of +his time, and of which I was unable to comprehend a +single word, it was apparent that he was as ignorant of +his own language as he was of the city. In this extremity +he called another driver to his aid, who spoke just +the words of English, “Gooda-morkig!” “Good-morning,” +said I. From this the conversation lapsed at once +into remote depths of Russian. In despair I got out of +the drosky and walked along the street, looking up at +all the signs—the driver after me with his drosky, apparently +watching to see that I did not make my escape. +At length I espied a German name on a bakery sign. +How familiar it looked in that desert of unintelligible +Russian—like a favorite quotation in a page of metaphysics. +I went in and spoke German—<i>vie gaetz?</i> You +are aware, perhaps, that I excel in that language. I asked +the way to the United States Consulate. The baker had +probably forgotten his native tongue, if ever he knew it +at all, for I could get nothing out of him but a shake of +the head and <i>nicht furstay</i>. However, he had the goodness, +seeing my perplexity, to put on his hat and undertake +to find the consul’s, which, by dint of inquiry, he at +length ascertained to be about half a mile distant. We +walked all the way, this good old baker and I, he refusing +to ride because there was only room for one, and I +not liking to do so and let him walk. The drosky-man +followed in the rear, driving along very leisurely, and +with great apparent comfort to himself. He leaned back +in his seat with much gusto, and seemed rather amused +than otherwise at our movements. At length we reached +the consulate. It was about three hundred yards +from my original point of departure. Any other man +in existence than my istrovoschik would have sunk into +the earth upon seeing me make this astounding +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[24]</a></span> +discovery. I knew it by certain landmarks—a church and +a garden. But he did not sink into the earth. He merely +sat on his drosky as cool as a cucumber. I felt so +grateful to the worthy baker, who was a fat old gentleman, +and perspired freely after his walk, that I gave him +thirty kopecks. The drosky-man claimed forty kopecks, +just double his fare. I called in the services of an interpreter, +and protested against this imposition. The interpreter +and the drosky-man got into an animated dispute +on the question, and must have gone clear back to +the fundamental principles of droskyism, for they seemed +likely never to come to an end. The weather was +warm, and both kept constantly wiping their faces, and +turning the whole subject over and over again, without +the slightest probability of an equitable conclusion. At +length my interpreter said, “Perhaps, sir, you had better +pay it. The man says you kept him running about +for over two hours; and since you have no proof to the +contrary, it would only give you trouble to have him +punished.” This view accorded entirely with my own, +and I cheerfully paid the forty kopecks; also ten kopecks +drink-geld, and a small douceur of half a ruble (fifty kopecks) +to the gentleman who had so kindly settled the +difficulty for me. After many years’ experience of travel, +I am satisfied, as before stated, that a man may be born +naturally honest, but can not long retain his integrity +in the hack business. He must sooner or later take to +swindling, otherwise he can never keep his horses fat, +or make the profession respectable and remunerative. +Such, at least, has been my experience of men in this line +of business, not excepting the istrovoschik of St. Petersburg.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[25]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h2> + +<h3>A PLEASANT EXCURSION.</h3> + + +<p>I had the good fortune, during my ramble, to meet +with a couple of fellow-passengers from Stettin. One +of them was a rough, weather-beaten man of middle +age, with rather marked features, but not an unkindly +expression. His mysterious conduct during the voyage +had frequently attracted my attention. There was something +curious about his motions, as if an invisible companion, +to whom he was bound in some strange way, +continually accompanied him. He drank enormous quantities +of beer, and smoked from morning till night a tremendous +meerschaum, which must have held at least +a pint of tobacco. When not engaged in drinking +beer and smoking, he usually walked rapidly up and +down the decks, with his hands behind him and his head +bent down, talking in a guttural voice to himself about +“hemp.” He slept—or rather lay down, for I don’t +think he ever slept—with his head close to mine on a +bench in the cabin, and it was a continued source of +trouble to me the way he puffed, and groaned, and talked +about “hemp.” Sometimes he was half the night arguing +with himself about the various prices and qualities +of this useful article, but I did not understand enough of +his <i>blat deutsch</i> to gather the drift of the argument. All I +could make out was “<i>Zweimal zwei macht vier</i>—(a puff)—<i>sechs +und vierzig</i>—(a groan)—<i>acht und sechzig macht +ein hundert</i>—(a snort)—<i>sieben tausend</i>—<i>acht tausend +fünf und dreissig thaler</i>—(a sigh)—<i>schilling</i>—<i>kopeck</i>—<i>ruble</i>—<i>hemphf! +Mein Gott! Zwei und dreissig tausend</i>—<i>hemphf</i>—<i>ruble</i>—(a +terrible gritting of the teeth)—<i>sechs +und fünfzig</i>—<i>Gott im Himmel!</i>—<i>Ich kann nicht +schlafen!</i>” Here he would jump up and shout “Kellner! +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[26]</a></span> +Kellner! <i>ein flask bier!</i>—<i>sechs und zechzig</i>—<i>zweimal +acht und vierzig! Kellner, flask bier!</i>—<i>Liebe Gott</i>—<i>was +ist das?</i>—<i>Nine und sechzig</i>—<i>flask bier!</i> <i>Kleich! +Kleich!</i>” When the beer came he would drink off three +bottles without stopping, then light his pipe, fill the cabin +with smoke, and after he had done that go on deck to +get the fresh air. I could hear him for hours walking +up and down over my head, and thought I could occasionally +detect the words. “<i>Hemphf</i>—<i>ruble</i>—<i>thaler</i>—<i>fünfmal +sechs und zwanzig</i>—<i>mein Gott!</i>” It was evident +the man was laboring under some dreadful internal +excitement about the price of hemp. What could it +be? Was he going to hang himself? Did he contemplate +buying some Russian hemp for that purpose especially? +The mystery was heightened by the fact that +he was frequently in close conversation with the young +man whom I have already mentioned as my other fellow-passenger, +and they both talked about nothing else +but hemp. What in the name of sense were they going +to do with hemp in Mechlenberg, their native country, +where people were beheaded—unless they meant to +hang themselves? The mystery troubled me so much +that I finally made bold to ask the young man if his +friend had committed any serious crime, and whether +that was the reason he talked so much about hemp? +These North Germans are a queer people. I don’t think +they ever suspect any body to be joking. They take the +most outrageous proposition literally, and never seem to +understand that there can be two meanings to any thing. +As Sydney Smith says of the Scotch, it would take a surgical +operation to get a joke well into their understanding. +When I propounded this question to my young +fellow-passenger—a very amiable and intelligent young +man—he looked distressed and horror-stricken, and replied +with great earnestness, “Oh no, he is a very respectable +man. I am certain he never committed a crime +in his life.” “But,” said I, “if he doesn’t intend to hang +somebody, why should he rave about hemp all night?” +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[27]</a></span> +“Oh, he is a rope-maker. He is going to Russia to buy a +cargo of hemp, and he’s afraid prices will go up unless he +gets there soon. The head wind and chopping sea keep +us back a good deal.” “Yes, yes, I understand it all +now. Suppose, my young friend, you and I go to work +and help the steamer along a little? It would be doing +a great service to the cause of hemp, and enable me to +sleep besides.” The Mechlenberger looked incredulous. +“How are we to do it?” he asked at length. “Oh, +nothing easier!” I answered. “Just put a couple of +these handspikes in the lee scuppers—so! and hold her +steady!” At this the Mechlenberger, who was a very +genial and good-natured fellow, could scarcely help +laughing, the absurdity of the idea struck him so forcibly. +Seeing, however, that I looked perfectly in earnest, +he was kind enough to explain the erroneous basis +of my calculation, and accordingly entered into an elaborate +mathematical demonstration to prove that what +we gained by lifting we would lose by the additional +pressure of our feet upon the decks! After this I was +prepared to believe the story of the old Nuremberger, +who, when about to set out on his travels, got on top +of his trunk and took hold of each end for the purpose +of carrying it to the post station. The question about +the hemp was too good to be lost, and my young friend +had too strong a business head not to perceive the delightful +verdancy of my character. He accordingly took +the earliest opportunity to mention it to his comrade, +Herr Batz, the rope-maker, who never stopped laughing +about the mistake I had made till we got to St. Petersburg. +They were both very genial, pleasant fellows, +and took a great fancy to the Herr American who +thought Herr Batz was going to hang himself, and who +had proposed to steady the steamer by means of a handspike. +Such primitive simplicity was absolutely refreshing +to them; and, since they enjoyed it, of course I did, +and we were the best of friends.</p> + +<p>On the present occasion, after we had passed the usual +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[28]</a></span> +compliments it was proposed that we should hire a boat, +as the night was fine, and take a trip down to the Kamennoi +Island. I was delighted to have two such agreeable +companions, and readily acceded to the proposition. +A young Russian in the hemp business accompanied +us, and altogether we made a very lively and humorous +party. I was sorry, however, to be prejudiced +in the estimation of the Russian by having the hemp and +handspike story repeated in my presence, but finally got +over that, and changed the current of the conversation +by asking if the Emperor Alexander would send me to +Siberia in case I smoked a cigar in the boat? To which +the Russian responded somewhat gravely that I could +smoke as many cigars on the water as I pleased, although +it was forbidden in the streets on account of the danger +of fire; but that, in any event, I would merely have to +pay a fine, as people were only sent to Siberia for capital +crimes and political offenses.</p> + +<p>We got a boat down near the Custom-house, at a point +of the Vassoli Ostrou, called the Strelka, and were soon +skimming along through a small branch of the Neva, toward +the island of Krestofskoi. The water was literally +alive with boats, all filled with gay parties of pleasure-seekers, +some on their way to the different islands, +some to the bath-houses which abound in every direction, +and all apparently enjoying a delightful time of it. +Passing to the right of the Petrofskoi Island, whose +grass-covered shores slope down to the water like a green +carpet outspread under the trees, we soon reached the +Little Nevka, about three miles from our starting-point. +We disembarked on the Krestofskoi Island, near the +bridge which crosses from Petrofskoi. On the right is +a beautiful palace belonging to some of the royal family, +the gardens of which sweep down to the waters of the +Nevka, and present a charming scene of floral luxuriance. +Gondolas, richly carved and curiously shaped, lay +moored near the stone steps; the trestled bowers were +filled with gay parties; pleasant sounds of voices and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[30]</a></span> +music floated upon the air, and over all a soft twilight +gave a mystic fascination to the scene. I thought of +the terrible arctic winters that for six months in the +year cast their cold death-pall over the scene of glowing +and tropical luxuriance, and wondered how it could ever +come to life again; how the shrubs could bloom, and the +birds sing, and the soft air of the summer nights come +back and linger where such dreary horrors were wont +to desolate the earth.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="fish_peddler" id="fish_peddler"></a> +<img src="images/thor006.png" width="600" height="465" +alt="A fish peddler shows off his wares" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FISH PEDDLER.</p> + +<p>The constant dread of infringing upon the police regulations; +the extraordinary deference with which men in +uniform are regarded; the circumspect behavior at public +places; the nice and well-regulated mirthfulness, +never overstepping the strict bounds of prudence, which +I had so often noticed in the northern states of Germany, +and which may in part be attributed to the naturally +conservative and orderly character of the people, are not +the prominent features of the population of St. Petersburg. +It appeared to me that in this respect at least +they are more like Americans than any people I had seen +in Europe; they do pretty much as they please; follow +such trades and occupations as they like best; become +noisy and uproarious when it suits them; get drunk occasionally; +fight now and then; lie about on the grass +and under the trees when they feel tired; enjoy themselves +to their heart’s content at all the public places; +and care nothing about the police as long as the police +let them alone. I rather fancied there must be a natural +democratic streak in these people, for they are certainly +more free and easy in their manners, rougher in their +dress, more independent in their general air, and a good +deal dirtier than most of the people I had met with in +the course of my travels. I do not mean to say that +rowdyism and democracy are synonymous, but I consider +it a good sign of innate manliness and a natural spirit +of independence when men are not afraid to dress like +vagabonds and behave a little extravagantly, if it suits +their taste. It must be said, however, that the police +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[31]</a></span> +regulations or St. Petersburg, without being onerous or +vexatious, are quite as good as those of any large city in +Europe. When men are deprived of their political liberties, +the least that can be done for them is to let them +enjoy as much municipal freedom as may be consistent +with public peace. I should never have suspected, from +any thing I saw in the city or neighborhood of St. Petersburg, +that I was within the limits of an absolute despotism. +If one desires to satisfy himself on this point he +must visit the interior.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;"> +<a name="young_peasants" id="young_peasants"></a> +<img src="images/thor007.png" width="324" height="400" +alt="A young man plays a string instrument while a young woman looks on" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">YOUNG PEASANTS.</p> + +<p>I was led into this train of reflection partly by the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[32]</a></span> +scenes I had witnessed during my rambles through the +city and on the way down the river, and partly by what +we now saw on the island of Krestofskoi. A bridge +unites this island with the Petrofskoi, and two other +bridges with the islands of Kamennoi and Elaghinskoi. +It was eleven o’clock at night, yet the twilight was so +rich and glowing that one might readily read a newspaper +in any of the open spaces. The main avenues were +crowded with carriages of every conceivable description—the +grandly decorated coach of the noble, glittering +with armorial bearings and drawn by four richly-caparisoned +horses; the barouche, easy and elegant, filled with +a gay company of foreigners; the drosky, whirling along +at a rapid pace, with its solitary occupant; the kareta, +plain, neat, and substantial, carrying on its ample seats +some worthy merchant and his family; the nondescript +little vehicle, without top, bottom, or sides—nothing but +four small wheels and a cushioned seat perched on springs, +with an exquisite perched astride upon the street, driving +a magnificent blood horse at the rate of 2.40; and +English boxes with stiff Englishmen in them; and French +chaises with loose Frenchmen in them; and a New York +buggy with a New York fancy man in it; and hundreds +of fine horses with dashing Russian officers in uniform +mounted on them, and hundreds of other horses with +secretaries and various young sprigs of nobility struggling +painfully to stay mounted on them; and, in short, +every thing grand, fanciful, and entertaining in the way +of locomotion that the most fertile imagination can conceive. +Don’t do me the injustice, I pray you, to consider +me envious of the good fortune of others in being able +to ride when I had to walk, for it does me an amazing +deal of good to see people enjoy themselves. Nothing +pleases me better than to see a fat old lady, glittering all +over with fine silks and jewels, leaning back in her cushioned +carriage, with her beloved little lapdog in her arms—two +elegant drivers, four prancing horses, and a splendid +little postillion in front; two stalwart footmen, in plush +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[33]</a></span> +breeches, behind, with variegated yellow backs like a pair +of wasps. Can any thing be more picturesque? It always +makes me think of a large June-bug dragged about +by an accommodating crowd of fancy-colored flies! And +what can be more imposing than a Russian grandee? +See that terrific old gentleman, sitting all alone in a gorgeous +carriage, large enough to carry himself and half +a dozen of his friends. Orders and disorders cover him +from head to foot. He is the exact picture of a ferocious +bullfrog, with a tremendous mustache and a horribly malignant +expression of eye, and naturally enough expects +every body to get out of his way. That man must have +had greatness thrust upon him, for he never could have +achieved it by the brilliancy of his intellect. Doubtless +he spends much of his time at the springs, but they don’t +seem to have purified his body, or subdued the natural +ferocity of his temper. His wife must have a pleasant +time. I wonder if he sleeps well, or enjoys Herzain’s essays +on Russian aristocracy? But make way, ye pedestrian +rabble, for here comes a secretary of legation on +horseback—make way, or he will tumble off and inflict +some bodily injury upon you with the points of his waxed +mustache! I know he must be a secretary of legation +by the enormous polished boots he wears over his +tight breeches, the dandy parting of his hair, the supercilious +stupidity of his countenance, and the horrible tortures +he suffers in trying to stick on the back of his +horse. Nobody else in the world could make such an +ass of himself by such frantic attempts to show off and +keep on at the same time. I’ll bet my life he thinks he +is the most beautiful and accomplished gentleman ever +produced by a beneficent Creator. Well, it is a happy +thing for some of us that we don’t see ourselves as others +see us; if we did, my friends in the hemp business +and myself would fare badly. Beregrissa! Padi! Padi!—have +a care! make way, for here comes a cloud of dust, +and in that cloud of dust is a kibitka, drawn by three +wild horses, and in that kibitka, half sitting, half clinging +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[34]</a></span> +to the side, is an official courier. Crack goes the +whip of the <i>yamtschick</i>; the three fiery horses fly through +the dust; the courier waves his hand to an officer on +horseback, and with a whirl and a whisk they disappear. +<i>Pashol!</i> I hope they won’t break their necks before +they get through.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 290px;"> +<a name="dvornick_and_postman" id="dvornick_and_postman"></a> +<img src="images/thor008.png" width="290" height="400" +alt="A man with a broom holds his hand in the air; a postman with a letter stands in front of him" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DVORNICK AND POSTMAN.</p> + +<p>Soon the main road branches out in various directions, +and we strike off with the diverging streams of pedestrians, +families of the middle and lower classes, young +men of the town, gay young damsels with their beaux, +burly tradesmen, tinkers, tailors, and hatters, waiters and +apprentices, sailors and soldiers, until we find ourselves +in the midst of a grand old forest. Open glades, pavilions, +and tables are visible at intervals; but for the most +part we are in a labyrinthian wilderness of trees, rich in +foliage, and almost oppressive in their umbrageous density, +while</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Deep velvet verdure clothes the turf beneath,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And trodden flowers their richest odors breathe.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Insects flit through the still atmosphere; the hum of +human voices, softened by distance, falls soothingly upon +the ear; and as we look, and listen, and loiter on our +way, we wonder if this can be the dreamland of the arctic +regions? Can there ever be snow-storms and scathing +frosts in such a land of tropical luxuriance? Thus, +as we lounge along in the mellow twilight amid the +groves of Katrofskoi, what charming pictures of sylvan +enjoyment are revealed to us at every turn! Rustic tables +under the great wide-spreading trees are surrounded +by family groups—old patriarchs, and their children, +and great-grandchildren; the steaming urn of tea in the +middle; the old people chatting and gossiping; the +young people laughing merrily; the children tumbling +about over the green sward. Passing on we come to a +group of Mujiks lying camp-fashion on the grass, eating +their black bread, drinking their vodka, and sleeping +whenever they please—for this is their summer home, +and this grass is their bed. Next we come to a group +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[35]</a></span> +of officers, their rich uniforms glittering in the soft twilight, +their horses tied to the trees, or held at a little distance +by some attendant soldiers. Dominoes, cards, +Champagne, and cakes are scattered in tempting profusion +upon the table, and if they are not enjoying their +military career, it is not for want of congenial accompaniments +and plenty of leisure. A little farther on we meet +a jovial party of Germans seated under a tree, with a +goodly supply of bread and sausages before them, singing +in fine accord a song of their faderland. Next we +hear the familiar strains of an organ, and soon come in +sight of an Italian who is exhibiting an accomplished +monkey to an enraptured crowd of children. The monkey +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[36]</a></span> +has been thoroughly trained in the school of adversity, +and makes horrible grimaces at his cruel and cadaverous +master, who in ferocious tones, and without the least +appearance of enjoying the sport, commands this miniature +man to dance, fire a small gun, go through the +sword exercise, play on a small fiddle, smoke a cigar, +turn a somersault, bow to the company, and hold out his +hat for an unlimited number of kopecks. Herr Batz suggests +that such a monkey as that might be taught to +spin ropes, and our younger Mechlenberger laughs, and +says he once read a story of a monkey that shaved a +cat, and then cut off his own or the cat’s tail, he could +not remember which. This reminds the Russian of a +countess in Moscow who owned a beautiful little dog, to +which she was greatly attached. She required her serfs +to call it “My noble Prince,” and had them well flogged +with the knout whenever they approached it without +bowing. One day a cat got hold of the noble Prince, +and gave him a good scratching. The countess, being +unable to soothe her afflicted poodle, caused the cat’s +paws to be cut off, and served up on a plate for his unhappy +highness to play with—after which the noble pug +was perfectly satisfied! Of course, we all laughed at +the Russian’s story, but he assured us it was a well authenticated +fact, and was generally regarded as a most +delicate <i>jeu d’esprit</i>. Not to be behindhand in the line +of cats and monkeys, I was obliged to tell an anecdote +of a Frenchman, who, on his arrival in Algiers, ordered a +ragout at one of the most fashionable restaurants. It +was duly served up, and pronounced excellent, though +rather strongly flavored. “Pray,” said the Frenchman +to the <i>maître d’hotel</i>, “of what species of cat do you +make ragouts in Algiers?” “Pardon, monsieur,” replied +the polite host, “we use nothing but monkeys in Africa!” +Disgusted at this colonial barbarism, the Frenchman immediately +returned to Paris, where he remained forever +after, that he might enjoy his customary and more civilized +dish of cat. Herr Batz had not before heard of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[38]</a></span> +such a thing, neither had the young Mechlenberger, and +they both agreed that cats must be a very disgusting +article of food. The Russian, however, seemed to regard +it as nothing uncommon, and gave us some very entertaining +accounts of various curious dishes in the interior +of Russia, to which cats were not a circumstance.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="glazier_painter_carpenters" id="glazier_painter_carpenters"></a> +<img src="images/thor009.png" width="600" height="451" +alt="A group of craftsmen work at their trades" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GLAZIER, PAINTER, CARPENTERS.</p> + +<p>With such flimsy conversation as this we entertain +ourselves till we reach a village of summer residences on +the Kamennoi Island. Here we pause a while to enjoy +the varied scenes of amusement that tempt the loiterer +at every step; the tea-drinking parties out on the porticoes, +the gambling saloons, the dancing pavilions, the +cafés, the confectioneries, with their gay throngs of customers, +their gaudy colors, their music, and sounds of joy +and revelry. A little farther on we come to a stand of +carriages, and near by a gate and a large garden. For +thirty kopecks apiece we procure tickets of admission. +This is the Vauxhall of Kamennoi. We jostle in with the +crowd, and soon find ourselves in front of an open theatre.</p> + +<p>So passes away the time till the whistle of a little +steamer warns us of an opportunity to get back to the +city. Hurrying down to the wharf, we secure places on +the stern-sheets of a screw-wheeled craft not much bigger +than a good-sized yawl. It is crowded to overflowing—in +front, on top of the machinery, in the rear, over +the sides—not a square inch of space left for man or +beast. The whistle blows again; the fiery little monster +of an engine shivers and screams with excess of steam; +the grim, black-looking engineer gives the irons a pull, +and away we go at a rate of speed that threatens momentary +destruction against some bridge or bath-house. +It is now two o’clock A.M. The rays of the rising sun +are already reflected upon the glowing waters of the +Neva. Barges and row-boats are hurrying toward the +city. Carriages are rolling along the shady avenues of +the islands. Crowds are gathered at every pier and landing-place +awaiting some conveyance homeward. Ladies +are waving their handkerchiefs to the little steamer to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[39]</a></span> +stop, and gentlemen are flourishing their hats. The captain +blows the whistle, and the engineer stops the boat +with such a sudden reversion of our screw that we are +pitched forward out of the seats. Some of the passengers +clamber up at the landing-places, and others clamber +down and take their places. The little engine sets up +its terrific scream again; the hot steam hisses and fizzes +all over the boat; involuntary thoughts of maimed limbs +and scalded skins are palpably impressed upon every +face; but the little steamer keeps on—she is used to it, +like the eels, and never bursts up. Winding through +the varied channels of the Neva, under bridges, through +narrow passes, among wood-boats, row-boats, and shipping, +we at length reach the landing on the Russian +Quay, above the Admiralty. Here we disembark, well +satisfied to be safely over all the enjoyments and hazards +of the evening.</p> + +<p>Evening, did I say? The morning sun is blazing out +in all his glory! We have had no evening—no night. +It has been all a wild, strange, glowing freak of fancy. +The light of day has been upon us all the time. And +now, should we go to bed, when the sun is shining over +the city, glistening upon the domes of the churches, illuminating +the windows of the palaces, awaking the +drowsy sailors of the Neva? Shall we hide ourselves +away in suffocating rooms when the morning breeze is +floating in from the Gulf of Finland, bearing upon its +wings the invigorating brine of ocean, or shall we,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">“Pleased to feel the air,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Still wander in the luxury of light?”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h2> + +<h3>VIEWS ON THE MOSCOW RAILWAY.</h3> + + +<p>The St. Petersburg and Moscow Railroad has been in +operation some eight or ten years, and has contributed +much to the internal prosperity of the country. In the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[40]</a></span> +summer of 1862 it was extended as far as Vladimir, and +now connects St. Petersburg with Nijni Novgorod, one +of the most important points in the empire, where the +great annual fair is held, where tea-merchants and others +from all parts of Tartary and China meet to exchange +the products of those countries with those of the +merchants of Russia. During the present year (1862) +it is expected that the line of railway connection will be +completed from St. Petersburg to the Prussian frontier, +and connect with the railroads of Prussia, so that within +twelve months it will be practicable to travel by rail all +the way from Marseilles or Bordeaux to Nijni Novgorod.</p> + +<p>The Moscow and St. Petersburg Railway is something +over four hundred miles in length, and consists of a double +track, broad, well graded, and substantially constructed. +The whole business of running the line, keeping the +cars and track in repair, working the machine-shops, etc., +embracing all the practical details of the operative department, +is let out by contract to an American company, +while the government supervises the financial department, +and reserves to itself the municipal control.<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> +It is a remarkable fact, characteristic of the Russians, +that while they possess uncommon capacity to acquire +all the details of engineering, and are by no means lacking +in mechanical skill, they are utterly deficient in management +and administrative capacity. Wasteful, improvident, +and short-sighted, they can never do any thing +without the aid of more sagacious and economical heads +to keep them within the bounds of reason. Thus, at one +time, when they undertook to run this line on their own +account, although they started with an extraordinary +surplus of material, they soon ran the cars off their +wheels, forgetting to keep up a supply of new ones as +they went along; ran the engines out of working order; +kept nothing in repair; provided against no contingency; +and were finally likely to break down entirely, when +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[41]</a></span> +they determined that it would be better to give this +branch of the business out by contract. One great fault +with them is, they labor under an idea that nothing can +be done without an extraordinary number of officers, +soldiers, policemen, and employés of every description—upon +the principle, I suppose, that if two heads are better +than one, the ignorance or inefficiency of a small +number of employés can be remedied by having a very +great number of the same kind. In other words, they +seem to think that if five hundred men can not be industrious, +skillful, and economical, five thousand trained in +exactly the same schools, and with precisely the same +propensities, must be ten times better. Even now there +is not a station, and scarcely a foot of the railway from +St. Petersburg to Moscow, that is not infested with an +extraordinary surplus of useless men in uniform. At +the great dépôts in each of these cities the traveler is +fairly confused with the crowds of officers and employés +through which he is obliged to make his way. Before +he enters the doorways, liveried porters outside offer to +take his baggage; then he passes by guards, who look +at him carefully and let him go in; then he finds guards +who show him where to find the ticket-office; when he +arrives at the ticket-office, he finds a guard or two outside, +and half a dozen clerks inside; then he buys his +ticket, and an officer examines it as he goes into the +wirthsaal; there he finds other officers stationed to preserve +order; when the bell rings the doors are opened; +numerous officers outside show him where to find the +cars, and which car he must get into; and when he gets +into a car he sits for a quarter of an hour, and sees officers +going up and down outside all the time, and thinks +to himself that people certainly can not be supposed to +have very good eyes, ears, or understanding of their own +in this country, since nobody is deemed capable of using +them on his individual responsibility. I only wonder +that they don’t eat, drink, sleep, and travel for a man at +once by proxy, and thereby save him the trouble of living +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[42]</a></span> +or moving at all. In fact, I had some thought of +asking one of these licensed gentlemen if the regulations +could not be stretched a point so as to embrace the payment +of my expenses; but it occurred to me that if I were +relieved of that responsibility, they might undertake at +the same time to write these letters for me, which would +be likely to alter the tone and thereby destroy my individuality. +But it must be admitted that good order, +convenience, politeness, and comfort are the predominant +characteristics of railway travel in Russia. The +conductors usually speak French, German, and English, +and are exceedingly attentive to the comfort of the passengers. +The hours of starting and stopping are punctually +observed—so punctually that you can calculate to +the exact minute when you will arrive at any given +point. Having no watch, I always knew the time by +looking at my ticket. Between St. Petersburg and +Moscow there are thirty-three stations, seven of which +are the grand stations of Lubanskaia, Malovischerskaia, +Okoulourskaia, Bologovskaia, Spirovskaia, Tver, and +Klinskaia. The rest are small intermediate stations. +At every seventy-five versts—about fifty miles—the cars +stop twenty minutes, and refreshments may be had by +paying a pretty heavy price for them. At the points +above-named there are large and substantial edifices +built by the company, containing various offices, spacious +eating-saloons, ante-chambers, etc., and attached to +which are extensive machine-shops, and various outbuildings +required by the service. Occasionally towns +may be seen in the vicinity of these stations, but for the +most part they stand out desolate and alone in the +dreary waste of country lying between the two great +cities. At every twenty-five versts are sub-stations, +where the cars stop for a few minutes. These are also +large and very substantial edifices, but not distinguished +for architectural beauty, like many of the stations in +France and Germany. Usually the Russian station consists +of an immense plain circular building, constructed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[43]</a></span> +of brick, with very thick walls, and a plain zinc roof, the +outside painted red, the roof green; wings or flanges +built of the same material extending along the track; a +broad wooden esplanade in front, upon which the passengers +can amuse themselves promenading, and a neat +garden, with other accommodations, at one end. Some +of the large stations are not only massive and of enormous +extent, but present rather a striking and picturesque +appearance as they are approached from the distance, +standing as they do in the great deserts of space +like solitary sentinels of civilization. The passengers +rush out at every stopping-place just as they do in other +parts of the world, some to stretch their limbs, others +to replenish the waste that seems to be constantly going +on in the stomachs of the traveling public. I don’t +know how it is, but it appears to me that people who +travel by railway are always either tired, thirsty, or +hungry. The voracity with which plates of soup, cutlets, +sandwiches, salad, scalding hot tea, wine, beer, and +brandy are swallowed down by these hungry and thirsty +Russians, is quite as striking as any thing I ever saw +done in the same line at Washoe. But it is not a feature +confined to Russia. I notice the same thing every +where all over the world; and what vexes me about it +is that I never get tired myself, and rarely hungry or +thirsty. Here, in midsummer, with a sweltering hot sun, +and an atmosphere that would almost smother a salamander, +were whole legions of officers, elegantly-dressed +ladies, and a rabble of miscellaneous second and third +class passengers like myself, puffing, blowing, eating, +drinking, sweating, and toiling, as if their very existence +depended upon keeping up the internal fires and blowing +them off again. It is dreadful to see people so hard +pushed to live. I really can’t conjecture what sort of +a commotion they will make when they come to die. A +sandwich or two and a glass of tea lasted me all the way +to Moscow—a journey of eighteen hours, and I never +suffered from hunger, thirst, or fatigue the whole way. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[44]</a></span> +If I had “gone in” like other people, I would certainly +have been a dead man before I got half way; and yet, I +think, two sandwiches more would have lasted me to the +Ural Mountains. It continually bothers me to know +how the human stomach can bear to be tormented in +this frightful way. Per Baccho! I would as soon be +shot in the hand with an escopette ball as drink the quantity +of wine and eat the quantity of food that I have +seen even women and children dispose of, as if it were +mere pastime, on these railway journeys. I think it +must be either this or the frost that accounts for the extraordinary +prevalence of red noses in Russia, and it +even occurred to me that the stations are painted a fiery +red, so that when travelers come within range of the +refracted color their noses may look pale by contrast, +and thereby remind them that it is time to renew the +caloric.</p> + +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a> This contract terminated last year (1865).</p></div> + +<p>With the exception of the seventy-five versts between +Moscow and Tver, I can not remember that I ever traveled +over so desolate and uninteresting a stretch of country +as that lying between St. Petersburg and Moscow. For +a short distance out of St. Petersburg there are some few +villas and farms to relieve the monotony of the gloomy +pine forests; then the country opens out into immense +undulating plains, marshy meadows, scrubby groves of +young pine, without any apparent limit; here and there +a bleak and solitary village of log huts; a herd of cattle +in the meadows; a wretched, sterile-looking farm, with +plowed fields, at remote intervals, and so on hour after +hour, the scene offering but little variety the whole way +to Tver. The villages are wholly destitute of picturesque +effect. Such rude and miserable hovels as they +are composed of could scarcely be found in the wildest +frontier region of the United States. These cabins or +hovels are built of logs, and are very low and small, generally +consisting of only one or two rooms. I saw none +that were whitewashed or painted, and nothing like order +or regularity was perceptible about them, all seeming +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[45]</a></span> +to be huddled together as if they happened there by +accident, and were obliged to keep at close quarters in +order to avoid freezing during the terrible winters. +Some of them are not unlike the city of Eden in Martin +Chuzzlewit. The entire absence of every thing approaching +taste, comfort, or rural beauty in the appearance of +these villages; the weird and desolate aspect of the boggy +and grass-grown streets; the utter want of interest +in progress or improvement on the part of the peasantry +who inhabit them, are well calculated to produce a melancholy +impression of the condition of these poor people. +How can it be otherwise, held in bondage as they have +been for centuries, subject to be taxed at the discretion +of their owners; the results of their labors wrested from +them; no advance made by the most enterprising and +intelligent of them without in some way subjecting them +to new burdens? Whatever may be the result of the +movement now made for their emancipation, it certainly +can not be more depressing than the existing system of +serfage. Looking back over the scenes of village life I +had witnessed in France and Germany—the neat vine-covered +cottages, the little flower-gardens, the orchards +and green lanes, the festive days, when the air resounded +to the merry voices of laughing damsels and village +beaux—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The hawthorn bush, with seats beneath the shade,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For talking age and whispering lovers made”—<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>the joyous dancers out on the village green, the flaunting +banners and wreaths of flowers hung in rich profusion +over the cross-roads—with such scenes as these flitting +through my memory, I could well understand that there +is an absolute physical servitude to which men can be +reduced, that, in the progress of generations, must crush +down the human soul, and make life indeed a dreary +struggle. In the splendor of large cities, amid the glitter +and magnificence of palaces and churches, the varied +paraphernalia of aristocracy and wealth, and all the excitements, +allurements, and novelties apparent to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[46]</a></span> +superficial eye, the real condition of the masses is not perceptible. +They must be seen in the country—in their +far-off villages and homes throughout the broad land; +there you find no disguise to cover the horrible deformities +of their bruised and crushed life; there you see the +full measure of their civilization. In the huts of these +poor people there is little or no comfort. Many of them +have neither beds nor chairs, and the occupants spend a +sort of camp life within doors, cooking their food like +Indians, and huddling round the earthen stove or fireplace +in winter, where they lie down on the bare ground +and sleep in a mass, like a nest of animals, to keep each +other warm. Their clothing is of the coarsest material, +but reasonably good, and well suited to the climate. The +men are a much finer-looking race, physically, than their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[47]</a></span> +masters. I saw some serfs in Moscow who, in stature, +strong athletic forms, and bold and manly features, would +compare favorably with the best specimens of men in any +country. It was almost incredible that such noble-looking +fellows, with their blue, piercing eyes and manly air, +should be reduced to such a state of abject servitude as +to kiss the tails of their master’s coats! Many of them +had features as bold and forms as brawny as our own +California miners; and more than once, when I saw them +lounging about in their big boots, with their easy, reckless +air, and looked at their weather-beaten faces and +vigorous, sunburnt beards, I could almost imagine that +they were genuine Californians. But here the resemblance +ceased. No sooner did an officer of high standing +pass, than they manifested some abject sign of their +degraded condition.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 375px;"> +<a name="hay_gatherers" id="hay_gatherers"></a> +<img src="images/thor010.png" width="375" height="400" +alt="Two women gather and stack hay" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">HAY GATHERERS.</p> + +<p>Some of the agricultural implements that one sees in +this country would astonish a Californian. The plows +are patterned very much after those that were used by +Boaz and other large farmers in the days of the Patriarchs; +the scythes are the exact originals of the old pictures +in which Death is represented as mowing down +mankind; the hoes, rakes, and shovels would be an ornament +to any museum, but are entirely indescribable; and +as for the wagons and harnesses—herein lies the superior +genius of the Russians over all the races of earth, ancient +or modern, for never were such wagons and such harnesses +seen on any other part of the globe. To be accurate +and methodical, each wagon has four wheels, and +each wheel is roughly put together of rough wood, and +then roughly bound up in an iron band about four inches +wide, and thick in proportion. Logs of wood, skillfully +hewed with broad-axes, answer for the axle-tree; and as +they don’t weigh over half a ton each, they are sometimes +braced in the middle to keep them from breaking. +Upon the top of this is a big basket, about the shape of +a bath-tub, in which the load is carried. Sometimes the +body is made of planks tied together with bullock’s hide, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[48]</a></span> +or no body at all is used, as convenience may require. +The wagon being thus completed, braced and thorough-braced +with old ropes, iron bands, and leather straps, we +come to the horses, which stand generally in front. The +middle horse is favored with a pair of shafts of enormous +durability and strength. He stands between these shafts, +and is fastened in them by means of ropes; but, to prevent +him from jumping out overhead, a wooden arch is +out over him, which is the <i>chef-d’œuvre</i> of ornamentation. +This is called the <i>duga</i>, and is the most prominent +object to be seen about every wagon, drosky, and kibitka +in Russia. I am not sure but a species of veneration +is attached to it. Often it is highly decorated with gilding, +painted figures, and every vagary of artistic genius, +and must cost nearly as much as the entire wagon. +Some of the <i>dugas</i> even carry saintly images upon them, +so that the devout driver may perform his devotions as +he drives through life. To suppose that a horse could +pull a wagon in Russia without this wooden arch, the +utility of which no human eye but that of a Russian can +see, is to suppose an impossibility. Now, the shafts being +spread out so as to give the horse plenty of room at +each side, it becomes necessary, since they are rather +loosely hung on at the but-ends, to keep them from +swaying. How do you think this is done? Nothing +easier. By running a rope from the end of each shaft to +the projecting end of the fore axle, outside of the wheels. +For this purpose the axle is made to project a foot beyond +the wheels, and the only trouble about it is that +two wagons on a narrow road often find it difficult to +pass. It is very curious to see these primitive-looking +objects lumbering about through the streets of Moscow +and St. Petersburg. The horses are most commonly +placed three abreast. In the ordinary kibitka or traveling +wagon the outside horses are merely fastened by +ropes, and strike out in any direction they please, the +whip and a small rein serving to keep them within bounds. +It is perfectly astonishing with what reckless and headlong +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[49]</a></span> +speed these animals dash over the rough pavements. +Just imagine the luxury of a warm day’s journey in such +a vehicle, which has neither springs nor backed seats—three +fiery horses fastened to it, and each pulling, plunging, +and pirouetting on his own account; a ferocious +yamtschick cracking his whip and shrieking “Shivar! +shivar!”—faster! faster!—the wagon, rattling all over, +plunging into ruts, jumping over stones, ripping its way +through bogs and mud-banks; your bones shaken nearly +out of their sockets; your vertebræ partially dislocated; +your mouth filled with dust; your tongue swollen and +parched; your eyes blinded with grit; your <i>yamtschick</i> +reeling drunk with <i>vodka</i>, and bound to draw to the destined +station—or some worse place; your confidence in +men and horses shaken with your bones; your views of +the future circumscribed by every turn of the road—oh! +it is charming; it is the very climax of human enjoyment. +Wouldn’t you like to travel in Russia?</p> + +<p>In addition to the villages which are scattered at frequent +intervals along the route, the gilded dome of a +church is occasionally seen in the distance, indicating the +existence of a town; but one seldom catches more than +a glimpse of the green-covered roofs of the houses, over +the interminable patches of scrubby pine. It is not a +country that presents such attractive features as to induce +the mere tourist to get out and spend a few days +rambling through it. In these dreary solitudes of marshes +and pines, the inhabitants speak no other language +than their own, and that not very well; but well or ill, +it is all Greek—or rather Russian—to the majority of +people from other countries.</p> + +<p>But, as I said before, this habit of digression will be +the death of me. Like a rocket, I start off splendidly, +but explode and fall to pieces in every direction before I +get half way on my journey. If the scintillations are +varied and gayly colored, to be sure, the powder is not +utterly lost; but the trouble of it is, if one keeps going +off like rockets all the time, he will never get any where, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[50]</a></span> +and in the end will leave nothing but smoke and darkness +to the gaping multitude.</p> + +<p>If my memory serves me, I was talking of the Emperor +Alexander’s convoy of private railway carriages—the +most magnificent affair of the kind, perhaps, in existence. +It was made purposely for his use, at a cost of +more than a hundred thousand dollars, and presented to +him by the American company, Winans and Company. +Nothing so magnificent in decoration, and so admirably +adapted to the convenience, comfort, and enjoyment of a +royal party has ever been seen in Europe. The main +carriage—for there are several in the suite—called, <i>par +excellence</i>, the emperor’s own, is eighty-five feet long, +and something over the usual width. It rests upon two +undivided sleepers of such elastic and well-grained wood +that they would bear the entire weight of the carriage, +without the necessity of a support in the middle, forming +a single stretch or arch, from axle to axle, of about +seventy feet. The springs, wheels, brakes, and various +kinds of iron-work, are of the finest and most select material, +and highly finished in every detail, combining +strength and durability with artistic beauty. The interior +of the main or imperial carriage is a masterpiece of +sumptuous ornamentation. Here are the richest of carvings; +the most gorgeous hangings of embroidered velvet; +mirrors and pictures in profusion; carpets and rugs +that seem coaxing the feet to linger upon them; tables, +cushioned sofas, and luxurious arm-chairs; divans and +lounges of rare designs, covered with the richest damask; +exquisite Pompeian vases and brilliant chandeliers—all, +in short, that ingenuity could devise and wealth +procure to charm the senses, and render this a traveling +palace worthy the imperial presence. Connected with +the main saloon is the royal bedchamber, with adjoining +bathing and dressing rooms, equally sumptuous in all +their appointments. Besides which, there are smoking-rooms, +private offices, magnificent chambers for the camarilla, +the secretaries, and body-guard of the emperor. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[51]</a></span> +The whole is admirably arranged for convenience and +comfort; and it is said that the motion, when the convoy +is under way, is so soft and dreamy that it is scarcely +possible to feel a vibration, the effect being as if the cars +were floating through the air, or drawn over tracks of +down. Fully equal to this, yet more subdued and delicate +in the drapery and coloring, are the apartments of +the empress. Here it may truly be said is “the poetry +of motion” realized—saloons fit for the angels that flit +through them, of whom the chiefest ornament is the empress +herself—the beautiful and beloved Maria Alexandrina, +the charm of whose presence is felt like a pleasant +glow of sunshine wherever she goes. Here are drawing-rooms, +boudoirs, apartments for the beautiful maids of +honor, reading-rooms, and even a dancing-saloon, from +which it may well be inferred that the royal party enjoy +themselves. If the emperor fails to make himself agreeable +in this branch of his establishment, he deserves to +be put out at the very first station. But he has the +ladies at a disadvantage, which probably compels them +to be very tolerant of his behavior; that is to say, he can +detach their branch of the establishment from his own, +and leave them on the road at any time he pleases by +pulling a string; but I believe there is no instance yet +on record of his having availed himself of this autocratic +privilege. It is usually understood at the start whether +the excursion is to be in partnership or alone. When +the emperor goes out on a hunting expedition, he is accompanied +by a select company of gentlemen, and of +course is compelled to deprive himself of the pleasure +of the more attractive and intoxicating society of ladies, +which would be calculated to unsteady his nerves, and +render him unfit for those terrific encounters with the +bears of the forest upon which his fame as a hunter is +chiefly founded.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[52]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h2> + +<h3>MOSCOW.</h3> + + +<p>What the great Napoleon thought when he gazed for +the first time across the broad valley that lay at his feet, +and caught the first dazzling light that flashed from the +walls and golden cupolas of the Kremlin—whether some +shadowy sense of the wondrous beauties of the scene +did not enter his soul—is more than I can say with certainty; +but this much I know, that neither he nor his +legions could have enjoyed the view from Sparrow Hill +more than I did the first glimpse of the grand old city +of the Czars as I stepped from the railroad dépôt, with +my knapsack on my back, and stood, a solitary and bewildered +waif, uncertain if it could all be real; for never +yet had I, in the experience of many years’ travel, seen +such a magnificent sight, so wildly Tartaric, so strange, +glowing, and incomprehensible. This was Moscow at +last—the Moscow I had read of when a child—the Moscow +I had so often seen burnt up in panoramas by an +excited and patriotic populace—the Moscow ever flashing +through memory in fitful gleams, half buried in smoke, +and flames, and toppling ruins, now absolutely before +me, a gorgeous reality in the bright noonday sun, with +its countless churches, its domes and cupolas, and mighty +Kremlin.</p> + +<p>Stand with me, reader, on the first eminence, and let +us take a bird’s-eye view of the city, always keeping in +mind that the Kremlin is the great nucleus from which +it all radiates. What a vast, wavy ocean of golden cupolas +and fancy-colored domes, green-roofed houses and +tortuous streets circle around this magic pile! what a +combination of wild, barbaric splendors! nothing within +the sweep of vision that is not glowing and Oriental. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[53]</a></span> +Never was a city so fashioned for scenic effects. From +the banks of the Moskwa the Kremlin rears its glittering +crest, surrounded by green-capped towers and frowning +embattlements, its umbrageous gardens and massive +white walls conspicuous over the vast sea of green-roofed +houses, while high above all, grand and stern, +like some grim old Czar of the North, rises the magnificent +tower of Ivan Veliki. Within these walls stand +the chief glories of Moscow—the palaces of the Emperor, +the Cathedral of the Assumption, the House of +the Holy Synod, the Treasury, the Arsenal, and the Czar +Kolokol, the great king of bells. All these gorgeous +edifices, and many more, crown the eminence which +forms the sacred grounds, clustering in a magic maze +of beauty around the tower of Ivan the Terrible. Beyond +the walls are numerous open spaces occupied by +booths and markets; then come the principal streets and +buildings of the city, encircled by the inner boulevards; +then the suburbs, around which wind the outer boulevards; +then a vast tract of beautiful and undulating +country, dotted with villas, lakes, convents, and public +buildings, inclosed in the far distance by the great outer +wall, which forms a circuit of twenty miles around the +city. The Moskwa River enters near the Presnerski +Lake, and, taking a circuitous route, washes the base of +the Kremlin, and passes out near the convent of St. +Daniel. If you undertake, however, to trace out any +plan of the city from the confused maze of streets that +lie outspread before you, it will be infinitely worse than +an attempt to solve the mysteries of a woman’s heart; +for there is no apparent plan about it; the whole thing +is an unintelligible web of accidents. There is no accounting +for its irregularity, unless upon the principle +that it became distorted in a perpetual struggle to keep +within reach of the Kremlin.</p> + +<p>It is sometimes rather amusing to compare one’s preconceived +ideas of a place with the reality. A city like +Moscow is very difficult to recognize from any written +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[54]</a></span> +description. From some cause wholly inexplicable, I +had pictured to my mind a vast gathering of tall, massive +houses, elaborately ornamented; long lines of narrow +and gloomy streets; many great palaces, dingy with +age; and a population composed chiefly of Russian nabobs +and their retinues of serfs. The reality is almost +exactly the reverse of all these preconceived ideas. The +houses for the most part are low—not over one or two +stories high—painted with gay and fanciful colors, chiefly +yellow, red, or blue; the roofs of tin or zinc, and nearly +all of a bright green, giving them a very lively effect +in the sun; nothing grand or imposing about them in +detail, and but little pretension to architectural beauty. +Very nearly such houses may be seen every day on any +of the four continents.</p> + +<p>Still, every indication of life presents a very different +aspect from any thing in our own country. The people +have a slow, slouching, shabby appearance; and the +traveler is forcibly reminded, by the strange costumes +he meets at every turn—the thriftless and degenerate +aspect of the laboring classes—the great lumbering wagons +that roll over the stone-paved streets—the droskies +rattling hither and thither with their grave, priest-like +drivers and wild horses—the squads of filthy soldiers +lounging idly at every corner—the markets and market-places, +and all that gives interest to the scene, that he is +in a foreign land—a wild land of fierce battles between +the elements, and fiercer still between men—where civilization +is ever struggling between Oriental barbarism +and European profligacy.</p> + +<p>The most interesting feature in the population of Moscow +is their constant and extraordinary displays of religious +enthusiasm. This seems to be confined to no +class or sect, but is the prevailing characteristic. No +less than three hundred churches are embraced within +the limits of the city. Some writers estimate the number +as high as five hundred; nor does the discrepancy +show so much a want of accuracy as the difficulty of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[55]</a></span> +determining precisely what constitutes a distinct church. +Many of these remarkable edifices are built in clusters, +with a variety of domes and cupolas, with different +names, and contain distinct places of worship—as in the +Cathedral of St. Basil, for instance, which is distinguished +by a vast number of variegated domes, and embraces +within its limits at least five or six separate churches, +each church being still farther subdivided into various +chapels. Of the extraordinary architectural style of +these edifices, their many-shaped and highly-colored +domes, representing all the lines of the rainbow, the gilding +so lavishly bestowed upon them, their wonderfully +picturesque effect from every point of view, it would be +impossible to convey any adequate idea without entering +into a more elaborate description than I can at present +attempt.</p> + +<p>But it is not only in the numberless churches scattered +throughout the city that the devotional spirit of the +inhabitants is manifested. Moscow is the Mecca of Russia, +where all are devotees. The external forms of religion +are every where apparent—in the palaces, the barracks, +the institutions of learning, the traktirs, the bath-houses—even +in the drinking cellars and gambling-hells. +Scarcely a bridge or corner of a street is without its +shrine, its pictured saint and burning taper, before which +every by-passer of high or low degree bows down and +worships. It may be said with truth that one is never +out of sight of devotees baring their heads and prostrating +themselves before these sacred images. All distinctions +of rank seem lost in this universal passion for +prayer. The nobleman, in his gilded carriage with liveried +servants, stops and pays the tribute of an uncovered +head to some saintly image by the bridge or the roadside; +the peasant, in his shaggy sheepskin capote, doffs +his greasy cap, and, while devoutly crossing himself, utters +a prayer; the soldier, grim and warlike, marches +up in his rattling armor, grounds his musket, and forgets +for the time his mission of blood; the tradesman, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[56]</a></span> +his leather apron and labor-worn hands, lays down his +tools and does homage to the shrine; the drosky-driver, +noted for his petty villainies, checks his horse, and, standing +up in his drosky, bows low and crosses himself before +he crosses the street or the bridge; even my guide, +the saturnine Dominico—and every body knows what +guides are all over the world—halted at every corner, +regardless of time, and uttered an elaborate form of adjurations +for our mutual salvation.</p> + +<p>Pictures of a devotional character are offered for sale +in almost every booth, alley, and passage-way, where the +most extraordinary daubs may be seen pinned up to the +walls. Saints and dragons, fiery-nosed monsters, and +snakes, and horrid creeping things, gilded and decorated +in the most gaudy style, attract idle crowds from morning +till night.</p> + +<p>It is marvelous with what profound reverence the +Russians will gaze at these extraordinary specimens of +art. Often you see a hardened-looking ruffian—his face +covered with beard and filth; his great, brawny form +resembling that of a prize-fighter; his costume a ragged +blouse, with loose trowsers thrust in his boots; such a +wretch, in short, as you would select for an unmitigated +ruffian if you were in want of a model for that character—take +off his cap, and, with superstitious awe and an +expression of profound humility, bow down before some +picture of a dragon with seven heads or a chubby little +baby of saintly parentage.</p> + +<p>That these poor people are sincere in their devotion +there can be no doubt. Their sincerity, indeed, is attested +by the strongest proofs of self-sacrifice. A Russian +will not hesitate to lie, rob, murder, or suffer starvation +for the preservation of his religion. Bigoted though +he may be, he is true to his faith and devoted to his +forms of worship, whatever may be his short-comings in +other respects. It is a part of his nature; it permeates +his entire being. Hence no city in the world, perhaps—Jerusalem +not excepted—presents so strange a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[57]</a></span> +spectacle of religious enthusiasm, genuine and universal, +mingled with moral turpitude; monkish asceticism and +utter abandonment to vice; self-sacrifice and loose indulgence. +It may be said that this is not true religion—not +even what these people profess. Perhaps not; +but it is what they are accustomed to from infancy, and +it certainly develops some of their best traits of character—charity +to each other, earnestness, constancy, and +self-sacrifice.</p> + +<p>On the morning after my arrival in Moscow I witnessed +from the window of my hotel a very impressive and +melancholy spectacle—the departure of a gang of prisoners +for Siberia. The number amounted to some two +or three hundred. Every year similar trains are dispatched, +yet the parting scene always attracts a sympathizing +crowd. These poor creatures were chained in +pairs, and guarded by a strong detachment of soldiers. +Their appearance, as they stood in the street awaiting +the order to march, was very sad. Most of them were +miserably clad, and some scarcely clad at all. A degraded, +forlorn set they were—filthy and ragged—their +downcast features expressive of an utter absence of hope. +Few of them seemed to have any friends or relatives in +the crowd of by-standers; but in two or three instances +I noticed some very touching scenes of separation—where +wives came to bid good-by to their husbands, and +children to their fathers. Nearly every body gave them +something to help them on their way—a few kopecks, a +loaf of bread, or some cast-off article of clothing. I saw +a little child timidly approach the gang, and, dropping a +small coin into the hand of one poor wretch, run back +again into the crowd, weeping bitterly. These prisoners +are condemned to exile for three, four, or five years—often +for life. It requires from twelve to eighteen +months of weary travel, all the way on foot, through +barren wastes and inhospitable deserts, to enable them +to reach their desolate place of exile. Many of them +fall sick on the way from fatigue and privation—many +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[59]</a></span> +die. Few ever live to return. In some instances the +whole term of exile is served out on the journey to and +from Siberia. On their arrival they are compelled to +labor in the government mines or on the public works. +Occasionally the most skillful and industrious are rewarded +by appointments to positions of honor and trust, +and become in the course of time leading men.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="prisoners_for_siberia" id="prisoners_for_siberia"></a> +<img src="images/thor011.png" width="600" height="472" +alt="Prisoners shackled in pairs are escorted through the street by guards" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PRISONERS FOR SIBERIA.</p> + +<p>In contemplating the dreary journey of these poor +creatures—a journey of some fifteen hundred or two +thousand miles—I was insensibly reminded of that +touching little story of filial affection, “Elizabeth of Siberia,” +a story drawn from nature, and known in all civilized +languages.</p> + +<p>Not long after the departure of the Siberian prisoners, +I witnessed, in passing along one of the principal streets, +a grand funeral procession. The burial of the dead is +a picturesque and interesting ceremony in Moscow. A +body of priests, dressed in black robes and wearing long +beards, take the lead in the funeral cortége, bearing in +their hands shrines and burning tapers. The hearse follows, +drawn by four horses. Black plumes wave from +the heads of the horses, and flowing black drapery covers +their bodies and legs. Even their heads are draped in +black, nothing being perceptible but their eyes. The +coffin lies exposed on the top of the hearse, and is also +similarly draped. This combination of sombre plumage +and drapery has a singularly mournful appearance. +Priests stand on steps attached to the hearse holding +images of the Savior over the coffin; others follow in +the rear, comforting the friends and relatives of the deceased. +A wild, monotonous chant is sung from time +to time by the chief mourners as the procession moves +toward the burial-ground. The people cease their occupations +in the streets through which the funeral passes, +uncover their heads, and, bowing down before the +images borne by the priests, utter prayers for the repose +of the dead. The rich and the poor of both sexes stand +upon the sidewalks and offer up their humble petitions. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[60]</a></span> +The deep-tongued bells of the Kremlin ring out solemn +peals, and the wild and mournful chant of the priests +mingles with the grand knell of death that sweeps +through the air. All is profoundly impressive: the procession +of priests, with their burning tapers; the drapery +of black on the horses; the coffin with its dead; +the weeping mourners; the sepulchral chant; the sudden +cessation of all the business of life, and the rapt attention +of the multitude; the deep, grand, death-knell +of the bells; the glitter of domes and cupolas on every +side; the green-roofed sea of houses; the winding +streets, and the costumes of the people—form a spectacle +wonderfully wild, strange, and mournful. In every +thing that comes within the sweep of the eye there is a +mixed aspect of Tartaric barbarism and European civilization. +Yet even the stranger from a far-distant clime, +speaking another language, accustomed to other forms, +must feel, in gazing upon such a scene, that death levels +all distinctions of race—that our common mortality +brings us nearer together. Every where we are pilgrims +on the same journey. Wherever we sojourn +among men,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The dead around us lie,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">And the death-bell tolls.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h2> + +<h3>TEA-DRINKING.</h3> + + +<p>The <i>traktirs</i>, or tea-houses, are prominent among the +remarkable institutions of Russia. In Moscow they +abound in every street, lane, and by-alley. That situated +near the Katai Gorod is said to be the best. +Though inferior to the ordinary cafés of Paris or Marseilles +in extent and decoration, it is nevertheless pretty +stylish in its way, and is interesting to strangers from +the fact that it represents a prominent feature in Russian +life—the drinking of <i>tchai</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[61]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 374px;"> +<a name="tea_sellers" id="tea_sellers"></a> +<img src="images/thor012.png" width="374" height="400" +alt="Tea-sellers converse in the street" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TEA-SELLERS.</p> + +<p>Who has not heard of Russian tea?—the tea that +comes all the way across the steppes of Tartary and over +the Ural Mountains?—the tea that never loses its flavor +by admixture with the salt of the ocean, but is delivered +over at the great fair of Nijni Novgorod as pure and +fragrant as when it started? He who has never heard +of Russian tea has heard nothing, and he who has never +enjoyed a glass of it may have been highly favored in +other respects, but I contend that he has nevertheless +led a very benighted existence. All epicures in the delicate +leaf unite in pronouncing it far superior to the nectar +with which the gods of old were wont to quench their +thirst. It is truly one of the luxuries of life—so soft; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[62]</a></span> +so richly yet delicately flavored; so bright, glowing, and +transparent as it flashes through the crystal glasses; +nothing acrid, gross, or earthly about it—a heavenly +compound that “cheers but not inebriates.”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“A balm for the sickness of care,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">A bliss for a bosom unbless’d.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Come with me, friend, and let us take a seat in the +traktir. Every body here is a tea-drinker. Coffee is +never good in Russia. Besides, it is gross and villainous +stuff compared with the <i>tchai</i> of Moscow. At all +hours of the day we find the saloons crowded with +Russians, French, Germans, and the representatives of +various other nations—all worshipers before the burnished +shrine of <i>Tchai</i>. A little saint in the corner presides +especially over this department. The devout Russians +take off their hats and make a profound salam to +this accommodating little patron, whose corpulent stomach +and smiling countenance betoken an appreciation of +all the good things of life. Now observe how these +wonderful Russians—the strangest and most incomprehensible +of beings—cool themselves this sweltering hot +day. Each stalwart son of the North calls for a portion +of <i>tchai</i>, not a tea-cupful or a glassful, but a genuine +Russian portion—a tea-potful. The tea-pot is small, but +the tea is strong enough to bear an unlimited amount of +dilution; and it is one of the glorious privileges of the +tea-drinker in this country that he may have as much +hot water as he pleases. Sugar is more sparingly supplied. +The adept remedies this difficulty by placing a +lump of sugar in his mouth and sipping his tea through +it—a great improvement upon the custom said to exist +in some parts of Holland, where a lump of sugar is hung +by a string over the table and swung around from mouth +to mouth, so that each guest may take a pull at it after +swallowing his tea. A portion would be quite enough +for a good-sized family in America. The Russian makes +nothing of it. Filling and swilling hour after hour, he +seldom rises before he gets through ten or fifteen +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[63]</a></span> +tumblersful, and, if he happens to be thirsty, will double it—enough, +one would think, to founder a horse. But the +Russian stomach is constructed upon some physiological +principles unknown to the rest of mankind—perhaps +lined with gutta-percha and riveted to a diaphragm of +sheet-iron. Grease and scalding-hot tea; <i>quass</i> and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[64]</a></span> +cabbage soup; raw cucumbers; cold fish; lumps of ice; decayed +cheese and black bread, seem to have no other effect +upon it than to provoke an appetite. In warm +weather it is absolutely marvelous to see the quantities +of fiery-hot liquids these people pour down their throats. +Just cast your eye upon that bearded giant in the corner, +with his hissing urn of tea before him, his <i>batvina</i> +and his <i>shtshie</i>! What a spectacle of physical enjoyment! +His throat is bare; his face a glowing carbuncle; +his body a monstrous cauldron, seething and +dripping with overflowing juices. Shade of Hebe! how +he swills the tea—how glass after glass of the steaming-hot +liquid flows into his capacious maw, and diffuses itself +over his entire person! It oozes from every pore of +his skin; drops in globules from his forehead; smokes +through his shirt; makes a piebald chart of seas and +islands over his back; streams down and simmers in his +boots! He is saturated with tea, inside and out—a living +sponge overflowing at every pore. You might wring +him out, and there would still be a heavy balance left in +him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;"> +<a name="mujiks_at_tea" id="mujiks_at_tea"></a> +<img src="images/thor013.png" width="383" height="500" +alt="Two bearded mujiks drink tea and talk" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MUJIKS AT TEA.</p> + +<p>These traktirs are the general places of meeting, where +matters of business or pleasure are discussed; accounts +settled and bargains made. Here the merchant, the +broker, the banker, and the votary of pleasure meet in +common. Here all the pursuits of human life are represented, +and the best qualities of men drawn out with the +drawing of the tea. Enmities are forgotten and friendships +cemented in tea. In short, the traktir is an institution, +and its influence extends through all the ramifications +of society.</p> + +<p>But it is in the gardens and various places of suburban +resort that the universal passion for tea is displayed +in its most pleasing and romantic phases. Surrounded +by the beauties of nature, lovers make their avowals over +the irrepressible tea-pot; the hearts of fair damsels are +won in the intoxication of love and tea; quarrels between +man and wife are made up, and children weaned—I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[65]</a></span> +had almost said baptized—in tea. The traveler must +see the families seated under the trees, with the burnished +urn before them—the children romping about +over the grass; joy beaming upon every face; the whole +neighborhood a repetition of family groups and steaming +urns, bound together by the mystic tie of sympathy, +before he can fully appreciate the important part that +tea performs in the great drama of Russian life.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h2> + +<h3>THE PETERSKOI GARDENS.</h3> + + +<p>This draws me insensibly toward the beautiful gardens +of the Peterskoi—a favorite place of resort for the +Moskovites, and famous for its chateau built by the Empress +Elizabeth, in which Napoleon sought refuge during +the burning of Moscow. It is here the rank and fashion +of the city may be seen to the greatest advantage of a +fine summer afternoon. In these gardens all that is brilliant, +beautiful, and poetical in Russian life finds a congenial +atmosphere.</p> + +<p>I spent an evening at the Peterskoi which I shall long +remember as one of the most interesting I ever spent +at any place of popular amusement. The weather was +charming—neither too warm nor too cold, but of that peculiarly +soft and dreamy temperature which predisposes +one for the enjoyment of music, flowers, the prattle of +children, the fascinations of female loveliness, the luxuries +of idleness. In such an atmosphere no man of sentiment +can rack his brain with troublesome problems. +These witching hours, when the sun lingers dreamily on +the horizon; when the long twilight weaves a web of +purple and gold that covers the transition from night to +morning; when nature, wearied of the dazzling glare of +day, puts on her silver-spangled robes, and receives her +worshipers with celestial smiles, are surely enough to +soften the most stubborn heart. We must make love, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[66]</a></span> +sweet ladies, or die. There is no help for it. Resistance +is an abstract impossibility. The best man in the +world could not justly be censured for practicing a little +with his eyes, when away from home, merely as I do, you +know, to keep up the expression.</p> + +<p>The gardens of the Peterskoi are still a dream to me. +For a distance of three versts from the gate of St. Petersburg +the road was thronged with carriages and droskies, +and crowds of gayly-dressed citizens, all wending their +way toward the scene of entertainment. The pressure +for tickets at the porter’s lodge was so great that it +required considerable patience and good-humor to get +through at all. Officers in dashing uniforms rode on +spirited chargers up and down the long rows of vehicles, +and with drawn swords made way for the foot-passengers. +Guards in imperial livery, glittering from head to +foot with embroidery, stood at the grand portals of the +gate, and with many profound and elegant bows ushered +in the company. Policeman with cocked hats and shining +epaulets were stationed at intervals along the leading +thoroughfares to preserve order.</p> + +<p>The scene inside the gates was wonderfully imposing. +Nothing could be more fanciful. In every aspect it presented +some striking combination of natural and artificial +beauties, admirably calculated to fascinate the imagination. +I have a vague recollection of shady and undulating +walks, winding over sweeping lawns dotted with +masses of flowers and copses of shrubbery, and overhung +by wide-spreading trees, sometimes gradually rising over +gentle acclivities or points of rock overhung with moss +and fern. Rustic cottages, half hidden by the luxuriant +foliage, crowned each prominent eminence, and little by-ways +branched off into cool, umbrageous recesses, where +caves, glittering with sea-shells and illuminated stalactites, +invited the wayfarer to linger a while and rest. +Far down in deep glens and grottoes were retired nooks, +where lovers, hidden from the busy throng, might mingle +their vows to the harmony of falling waters; where the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[67]</a></span> +very flowers seemed whispering love to each other, and +the lights and shadows fell, by some intuitive sense of +fitness, into the form of bridal wreaths. Marble statues +representing the Graces, winged Mercuries and Cupids, +are so cunningly displayed in relief against the green +banks of foliage that they seem the natural inhabitants +of the place. Snow-spirits, too, with outspread wings, +hover in the air, as if to waft cooling zephyrs through the +soft summer night. In the open spaces fountains dash +their sparkling waters high into the moonlight, spreading +a mystic spray over the sward. Through vistas of +shrubbery gleam the bright waters of a lake, on the far +side of which the embattled towers of a castle rise in bold +relief over the intervening groups of trees.</p> + +<p>On an elevated plateau, near the centre of the garden, +stands a series of Asiatic temples and pagodas, in which +the chief entertainments are held. The approaching avenues +are illuminated with many-colored lights suspended +from the branches of the trees, and wind under triumphal +archways, festooned with flowers. The theatres +present open fronts, and abound in all the tinsel of the +stage, both inside and out. The grounds are crowded +to their utmost capacity with the rank and fashion of the +city, in all the glory of jeweled head-dresses and decorations +of order. Festoons of variegated lights swing from +the trees over the audience, and painted figures of dragons +and genii are dimly seen in the background.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px;"> +<a name="russian_theatre" id="russian_theatre"></a> +<img src="images/thor014.png" width="385" height="500" +alt="A crowd stand watching a theatre performance" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">RUSSIAN THEATRE.</p> + +<p>Attracted by sounds of applause at one of these theatres, +I edged my way through the crowd, and succeeded, +after many apologies, in securing a favorable position. +Amid a motley gathering of Russians, Poles, Germans, +and French—for here all nations and classes are represented—my +ears were stunned by the clapping of hands +and vociferous cries <i>Bis! Bis!</i> The curtain was +down, but in answer to the call for a repetition of the last +scene it soon rose again, and afforded me an opportunity +of witnessing a characteristic performance. A wild Mujik +has the impudence to make love to the maid-servant +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[68]</a></span> +of his master, who appears to be rather a crusty old +gentleman, not disposed to favor matrimonial alliances +of that kind. Love gets the better of the lover’s discretion, +and he is surprised in the kitchen. The bull-dog is +let loose upon him; master and mistress and subordinate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[69]</a></span> +members of the family rush after him, armed with saucepans, +tongs, shovels, and broomsticks. The affrighted +Mujik runs all round the stage bellowing fearfully; the +bull-dog seizes him by the nether extremities and hangs +on with the tenacity of a vice. Round and round they +run, Mujik roaring for help, bull-dog swinging out horizontally. +The audience applauds; the master flings down +his broomstick and seizes the dog by the tail; the old +woman seizes master by the skirts of his coat; and all +three are dragged around the stage at a terrific rate, +while the younger members of the family shower down +miscellaneous blows with their sticks and cudgels, which +always happen to fall on the old people, to the great +satisfaction of the audience. Shouts, and shrieks, and +clapping of hands but faintly express the popular appreciation +of the joke. Finally the faithful maid, taking advantage +of the confusion, flings a bunch of fire-crackers +at her oppressors and blows them up, and the Mujik, relieved +of their weight, makes a brilliant dash through the +door, carrying with him the tenacious bull-dog, which it +is reasonable to suppose he subsequently takes to market +and sells for a good price. The curtain falls, the music +strikes up, and the whole performance is greeted with +the most enthusiastic applause. Such are the entertainments +that delight these humorous people—a little broad +to be sure, but not deficient in grotesque spirit.</p> + +<p>From the theatre I wandered to the pavilion of Zingalee +gipsies, where a band of these wild sons of Hagar +were creating a perfect furor by the shrillness and discord +of their voices. Never was such terrific music inflicted +upon mortal ears. It went through and through +you, quivering and vibrating like a rapier; but the common +classes of Russians delight in it above all earthly +sounds. They deem it the very finest kind of music. It +is only the dilettante who have visited Paris who profess +to hold it in contempt.</p> + +<p>Very soon surfeited with these piercing strains, I rambled +away till I came upon a party of rope-dancers, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[70]</a></span> +after seeing a dozen or so of stout fellows hang themselves +by the chins, turn back somersaults in the air, and +swing by one foot at a dizzy height from the ground, left +them standing upon each other’s heads to the depth of +six or eight, and turned aside into a grotto to enjoy a +few glasses of tea. Here were German girls singing and +buffoons reciting humorous stories between the pauses, +and thirsty Russians pouring down whole oceans of their +favorite beverage.</p> + +<p>Again I wandered forth through the leafy mazes of +the garden. The gorgeous profusion of lights and glittering +ornaments, the endless variety of colors, the novel +and Asiatic appearance of the temples, the tropical luxuriance +of the foliage, the gleaming white statuary, the +gay company, the wild strains of music, all combined to +form a scene of peculiar interest. High overhead, dimly +visible through the tops of the trees, the sky wears an +almost supernatural aspect during these long summer +nights. A soft golden glow flushes upward from the +horizon, and, lying outspread over the firmament, gives +a spectral effect to the gentler and more delicate sheen +of the moon; the stars seem to shrink back into the dim +infinity, as if unable to contend with the grosser effulgence +of the great orbs that rule the day and the night. +Unconscious whether the day is waning into the night, +or the night into the morning, the rapt spectator gazes +and dreams till lost in the strange enchantment of the +scene.</p> + +<p>At a late hour a signal was given, and the company +wandered down to the lake, along the shores of which +rustic seats and divans, overshadowed by shrubbery, afforded +the weary an opportunity of resting. Here we +were to witness the crowning entertainment of the evening—a +grand display of fire-works. A miniature steam-boat, +gayly decorated with flags, swept to and fro, carrying +passengers to the different landing-places. Gondolas, +with peaked prows and variegated canopies, lay +floating upon the still water, that lovers might quench +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[71]</a></span> +their flames in the contemplation of its crystal depths, +or draw fresh inspiration from the blaze of artificial fires. +Soon a wild outburst of music was heard; then from the +opposite shore the whole heavens were lighted up with +a flood of rockets, and the ears were stunned by their +explosions. Down through the depths of ether came +showers of colored balls, illuminating the waters of the +lake with inverted streams of light scarcely less bright +and glowing. Anon all was dark; then from out the +darkness flashed whirling and seething fires, gradually +assuming the grotesque forms of monsters and genii, till +with a deafening explosion they were scattered to the +winds. From the blackened mass of ruins stood forth +illuminated statues of the imperial family, in all the paraphernalia +of royalty, their crowns glittering with jewels, +their robes of light resplendent with precious gems and +tracery of gold. A murmur of admiration ran through +the crowd. The imperial figures vanished as if by magic, +and suddenly a stream of fire flashed from a mass of dark +undefined objects on the opposite shore, and lo! the waters +were covered with fiery swans, sailing majestically +among the gondolas, their necks moving slowly as if inspired +by life. Hither and thither they swept, propelled +by streams of fire, till, wearied with their sport, they gradually +lay motionless, yet glowing with an augmented +brilliancy. While the eyes of all were fixed in amazement +and admiration upon these beautiful swans, they exploded +with a series of deafening reports, and were scattered +in confused volumes of smoke. Out of the chaos swept +innumerable hosts of whirling little monsters, whizzing +and boring through the water like infernal spirits of the +deep. These again burst with a rattle of explosions like +an irregular fire of musketry, and shot high into the air +in a perfect maze of scintillating stars of every imaginable +color. When the shower of stars was over, and +silence and darkness once more reigned, a magnificent +barge, that might well have represented that of the +Egyptian queen—its gay canopies resplendent with the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[73]</a></span> +glow of many-colored lamps—swept out into the middle +of the lake, and</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">“Like a burnished throne<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Burn’d on the water.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_peterskoi_gardens" id="the_peterskoi_gardens"></a> +<img src="images/thor015.png" width="600" height="451" +alt="Crowds watch as barges on the lake are illuminated by a fireworks display" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE PETERSKOI GARDENS.</p> + +<p>And when the rowers had ceased, and the barge lay +motionless, soft strains of music arose from its curtained +recesses, swelling up gradually till the air was filled with +the floods of rich, wild harmony, and the senses were +ravished with their sweetness.</p> + +<p>Was it a wild Oriental dream? Could it all be real—the +glittering fires, the gayly-costumed crowds, the illuminated +barge, the voluptuous strains of music? Might +it not be some gorgeous freak of the emperor, such as +the sultan in the Arabian Nights enjoyed at the expense +of the poor traveler? Surely there could be nothing real +like it since the days of the califs of Bagdad!</p> + +<p>A single night’s entertainment such as this must cost +many thousand rubles. When it is considered that there +are but few months in the year when such things can be +enjoyed, some idea may be formed of the characteristic +passion of the Russians for luxurious amusements. It is +worthy of mention, too, that the decorations, the lamps, +the actors and operators, the material of nearly every +description, are imported from various parts of the world, +and very little is contributed in any way by the native +Russians, save the means by which these costly luxuries +are obtained.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h2> + +<h3>THE “LITTLE WATER.”</h3> + + +<p>On the fundamental principles of association the intelligent +reader will at once comprehend how it came to +pass that, of all the traits I discovered in the Russian +people, none impressed me so favorably as their love of +vodka, or native brandy, signifying the “little water.” I +admired their long and filthy beards and matted heads +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[74]</a></span> +of hair, because there was much in them to remind me +of my beloved Washoe; but in nothing did I experience +a greater fellowship with them than in their constitutional +thirst for intoxicating liquors. It was absolutely +refreshing, after a year’s travel over the Continent of +Europe, to come across a genuine lover of the “tarantula”—to +meet at every corner of the street a great +bearded fellow staggering along blind drunk, or attempting +to steady the town by hugging a post. Rarely +had I enjoyed such a sight since my arrival in the Old +World. In Germany I had seen a few cases of stupefaction +arising from overdoses of beer; in France the +red nose of the <i>bon vivant</i> is not uncommon; in England +some muddled heads are to be found; and in Scotland +there are temperance societies enough to give rise +to the suspicion that there is a cause for them; but, generally +speaking, the sight of an intoxicated man is somewhat +rare in the principal cities of the Continent. It +will, therefore, be conceded that there was something +very congenial in the spectacle that greeted me on the +very first day of my arrival in Moscow. A great giant +of a Mujik, with a ferocious beard and the general aspect +of a wild beast, came toward me with a heel and a lurch +to port that was very expressive of his condition. As he +staggered up and tried to balance himself, he blurted out +some unmeaning twaddle in his native language which I +took to be a species of greeting. His expression was +absolutely inspiring—the great blear eyes rolling foolishly +in his head; his tongue lolling helplessly from his +mouth; his under jaw hanging down; his greasy cap +hung on one side on a tuft of dirty hair—all so familiar, +so characteristic of something I had seen before! Where +could it have been? What potent spell was there about +this fellow to attract me? In what was it that I, an +embassador from Washoe, a citizen of California, a resident +of Oakland, could thus be drawn toward this hideous +wretch? A word in your ear, reader. It was all +the effect of association! The unbidden tears flowed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[75]</a></span> +to my eyes as I caught a whiff of the fellow’s +breath. It was so like the free-lunch breaths of San +Francisco, and even suggested thoughts of the Legislative +Assembly in Sacramento. Only think what a +genuine Californian must suffer in being a whole year +without a glass of whisky—nay, without as much as a +smell of it! How delightful it is to see a brother human +downright soggy drunk; drunk all over; drunk +in the eyes, in the mouth, in the small of his back, in his +knees, in his boots, clear down to his toes! How one’s +heart is drawn toward him by this common bond of human +infirmity! How it recalls the camp, the one-horse +mining town, the social gathering of the “boys” at +Dan’s, or Jim’s, or Jack’s; and the clink of dimes and +glasses at the bar; how distances are annihilated and +time set back! Of a verity, when I saw that man, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[76]</a></span> +reason dethroned and the garb of self-respect thrown +aside, I was once again in my own beloved state!</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“What a beauty dwelt in each familiar face,<br /></span> +<span class="i1">What music hung on every voice!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"> +<a name="vodka" id="vodka"></a> +<img src="images/thor016.png" width="399" height="400" +alt="Two young men wrestle in the street" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">VODKA.</p> + +<p>Since reading is not a very general accomplishment +among the lower classes, a system of signs answers in +some degree as a substitute. The irregularity of the +streets would of itself present no very remarkable feature +but for the wonderful variety of small shops and the +oddity of the signs upon which their contents are pictured. +What these symbols of trade lack in artistic style +they make up in grotesque effects. Thus, the tobacco +shops are ornamented outside with various highly-colored +pictures, drawn by artists of the most florid genius, +representing cigar-boxes, pipes, meerschaums, narghillas, +bunches of cigars, snuffboxes, plugs and twists of tobacco, +and all that the most fastidious smoker, chewer, or +snuffer can expect to find in any tobacco shop, besides a +good many things that he never will find in any of these +shops. Prominent among these symbolical displays is +the counterfeit presentment of a jet-black Indian of African +descent—his woolly head adorned with a crown of +pearls and feathers; in his right hand an uplifted tomahawk, +with which he is about to kill some invisible enemy; +in his left a meerschaum, supposed to be the pipe +of peace; a tobacco plantation in the background, and a +group of warriors smoking profusely around a camp-fire, +located under one of the tobacco plants; the whole having +a very fine allegorical effect, fully understood, no +doubt, by the artist, but very difficult to explain upon +any known principle of art. The butchers’ shops are +equally prolific in external adornments. On the sign-boards +you see every animal fit to be eaten, and many +of questionable aspect, denuded of their skins and reduced +to every conceivable degree of butchery; so that +if you want a veal cutlet of any particular pattern, all +you have to do is to select your pattern, and the cutlet +will be chopped accordingly. The bakeries excel in their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[77]</a></span> +artistic displays. Here you have painted bread from +black-moon down to double-knotted twist; cakes, biscuit, +rolls, and crackers, and as many other varieties as +the genius of the artist may be capable of suggesting. +The bakers of Moscow are mostly French or German; +and it is a notable fact that the bread is quite equal to +any made in France or Germany. The wine-stores, of +which there are many, are decorated with pictures of +bottles, and bas-reliefs of gilded grapes—a great improvement +upon the ordinary grape produced by nature.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE MARKETS OF MOSCOW.</h3> + + +<p>If there is nothing new under the sun, there are certainly +a good many old things to interest a stranger in +Moscow. A favorite resort of mine during my sojourn +in that strange old city of the Czars was in the markets +of the Katai Gorod. Those of the Riadi and Gostovini +Dvor present the greatest attractions, perhaps, in the +way of shops and merchandise; for there, by the aid of +time, patience, and money, you can get any thing you +want, from saints’ armlets and devils down to candlesticks +and cucumbers. Singing-birds, Kazan-work, and +Siberian diamonds are its most attractive features. But +if you have a passion for human oddities rather than +curiosities of merchandise, you must visit the second-hand +markets extending along the walls of the Katai +Gorod, where you will find not only every conceivable +variety of old clothes, clocks, cooking utensils, and rubbish +of all sorts, but the queerest imaginable conglomeration +of human beings from the far East to the far +West. It would be a fruitless task to attempt a description +of the motley assemblage. Pick out all the strangest, +most ragged, most uncouth figures you ever saw in old +pictures, from childhood up to the present day; select +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[78]</a></span> +from every theatrical representation within the range of +your experience the most monstrous and absurd caricatures +upon humanity; bring to your aid all the masquerades +and burlesque fancy-balls you ever visited, tumble +them together in the great bag of your imagination, and +pour them out over a vague wilderness of open spaces, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[79]</a></span> +dirty streets, high walls, and rickety little booths, and +you have no idea at all of the queer old markets of the +Katai Gorod. You will be just as much puzzled to make +any thing of the scene as when you started, if not more so.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<a name="old_clothes_market" id="old_clothes_market"></a> +<img src="images/thor017.png" width="388" height="500" +alt="Three men stand by a stall piled high with hats" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">OLD-CLOTHES’ MARKET.</p> + +<p>No mortal man can picture to another all these shaggy-faced +Russians, booted up to the knees, their long, +loose robes flaunting idly around their legs, their red +sashes twisted around their waists; brawny fellows with +a reckless, independent swagger about them, stalking like +grim savages of the North through the crowd. Then +there are the sallow and cadaverous Jew peddlers, covered +all over with piles of ragged old clothes, and mountains +of old hats and caps; and leathery-faced old women—witches +of Endor—dealing out horrible mixtures of +<i>quass</i> (the national drink); and dirty, dingy-looking soldiers, +belonging to the imperial service, peddling off old +boots and cast-off shirts; and Zingalee gipsies, dark, +lean, and wiry, offering strings of beads and armlets for +sale with shrill cries; and so on without limit.</p> + +<p>Here you see the rich and the poor in all the extremes +of affluence and poverty; the robust and the decrepit; +the strong, the lame, and the blind; the noble, with his +star and orders of office; the Mujik in his shaggy sheepskin +capote or tattered blouse; the Mongolian, the Persian, +and the Caucasian; the Greek and the Turk; the +Armenian and the Californian, all intent upon something, +buying, selling, or looking on.</p> + +<p>Being the only representative from the Golden State, +I was anxious to offer some Washoe stock for sale—twenty +or thirty feet in the Gone Case; but Dominico, +my interpreter, informed me that these traders had never +heard of Washoe, and were mostly involved in Russian +securities—old breeches, boots, stockings, and the like. +He did not think my “Gone Case” would bring an old +hat; and as for my “Sorrowful Countenance” and “Ragged +End,” he was persuaded I could not dispose of my +entire interest in them for a pint of grease.</p> + +<p>I was very much taken with the soldiers who infested +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[80]</a></span> +these old markets. It was something new in military +economy to see the representatives of an imperial army +supporting themselves in this way; dark, lazy fellows in +uniform, lounging about with old boots, and suspenders +hanging all over them, crying out the merits of their +wares in stentorian voices, thus, as it were, patriotically +relieving the national treasury of a small fraction of its +burden. They have much the appearance, in the crowd, +of raisins in a plum-pudding.</p> + +<p>The peasant women, who flock in from the country +with immense burdens of vegetables and other products +of the farms, are a very striking, if not a very pleasing +feature in the markets. Owing to the hard labor imposed +upon them, they are exceedingly rough and brawny, +and have a hard, dreary, and unfeminine expression +of countenance, rather inconsistent with one’s notions of +the delicacy and tenderness of woman. Few of them +are even passably well-looking. All the natural playfulness +of the gentler sex seems to be crushed out of them; +and while their manners are uncouth, their voices are the +wildest and most unmusical that ever fell upon the ear +from a feminine source. When dressed in their best attire +they usually wear a profusion of red handkerchiefs +about their heads and shoulders; and from an unpicturesque +habit they have of making an upper waist immediately +under their arms by a ligature of some sort, and +tying their apron-strings about a foot below, they have +the singular appearance of being double-waisted or three-story +women. They carry their children on their backs, +much after the fashion of Digger Indians, and suckle +them through an opening in the second or middle story. +Doubtless this is a convenient arrangement, but it presents +the curious anomaly of a poor peasant living in a +one-story house with a three-story wife. According to +the prevailing style of architecture in well-wooded countries, +these women ought to wear their hair shingled; +but they generally tie it up in a knot behind, or cover it +with a fancy-colored handkerchief, on the presumption, I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[81]</a></span> +suppose, that they look less barbarous in that way than +they would with shingled heads. You may suspect me +of story-telling, but upon my word I think three-story +women are extravagant enough without adding another +to them. I only hope their garrets contain a better quality +of furniture than that which afflicts the male members +of the Mujik community. No wonder those poor +women have families of children like steps of stairs! It +is said that their husbands are often very cruel to them, +and think nothing of knocking them down and beating +them; but even that does not surprise me. How can a +man be expected to get along with a three-story wife +unless he floors her occasionally?</p> + +<p>Ragged little boys, prematurely arrested in their +growth, you see too, in myriads—shovel-nosed and +bare-legged urchins of hideously eccentric manners, carrying +around big bottles of <i>sbiteen</i> (a kind of mead), +which they are continually pouring out into glasses, to +appease the chronic thirst with which the public seem to +be afflicted; and groups of the natives gathered around +a cucumber stand, devouring great piles of unwholesome-looking +cucumbers, which skinny old women are dipping +up out of wooden buckets. The voracity with which all +classes stow away these vicious edibles in their stomachs +is amazing, and suggests a melancholy train of reflections +on the subject of cholera morbus. It was a continual +matter of wonder to me how the lower classes of Russians +survived the horrid messes with which they tortured +their digestive apparatus. Only think of thousands +of men dining every day on black bread, heavy enough +for bullets, a pound or two of grease, and half a peck of +raw cucumbers per man, and then expecting to live until +next morning! And yet they do live, and grow fat, and +generally die at a good old age, in case they are not killed +in battle, or frozen up in the wilds of Siberia.</p> + +<p>Outside the walls of the Katai Gorod, in an open +square, or plaza, are rows of wooden booths, in which innumerable +varieties of living stock are offered for sale—geese, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[82]</a></span> +ducks, chickens, rabbits, pigeons, and birds of various +sorts. I sometimes went down here and bargained +for an hour or so over a fat goose or a Muscovy duck, +not with any ultimate idea of purchasing it, but merely +because it was offered to me at a reduced price. It was +amusing, also, to study the manners and customs of the +dealer, and enjoy their amazement when, after causing +them so much loss of time, I would hand over five kopeks +and walk off. Some of them, I verily believe, will +long entertain serious doubts as to the sanity of the Californian +public; for Dominico, my guide, always took +particular pride in announcing that I was from that great +country, and was the richest man in it, being, to the best +of his knowledge, the only one who had money enough +to spare to travel all the way to Moscow, merely for the +fun of the thing.</p> + +<p>I may as well mention, parenthetically, that Dominico +was rather an original in his way. His father was an +Italian and his mother a Russian. I believe he was born +in Moscow. How he came to adopt the profession of +guide I don’t know, unless it was on account of some +natural proclivity for an easy life. A grave, lean, saturnine +man was Dominico—something of a cross between +Machiavelli and Paganini. If he knew any thing about +the wonders and curiosities of Moscow he kept it a profound +secret. It was only by the most rigid inquiry and +an adroit system of cross-examination that I could get +any thing out of him, and then his information was vague +and laconic, sometimes a little sarcastic, but never beyond +what I knew myself. Yet he was polite, dignified, and +gentlemanly—never refused to drink a glass of beer with +me, and always knew the way to a traktir. To the public +functionaries with whom we came in contact during +the course of our rambles his air was grand and imposing; +and on the subject of money he was sublimely nonchalant, +caring no more for rubles than I did for kopeks. +Once or twice he hinted to me that he was of noble +blood, but laid no particular stress upon that, since it +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[83]</a></span> +was his misfortune at present to be in rather reduced +circumstances. Some time or other he would go to Italy +and resume his proper position there. In justice to Dominico, +I must add that he never neglected an opportunity +of praying for me before any of the public shrines; +and at the close of our acquaintance he let me off pretty +easily, all things considered. Upon my explaining to +him that a draft for five hundred thousand rubles, which +ought to be on the way, had failed to reach me, owing, +doubtless, to some irregularity in the mail service, or +some sudden depression in my Washoe stocks, he merely +shrugged his shoulders, took a pinch of snuff, and accepted +with profound indifference a fee amounting to three +times the value of his services.</p> + +<p>I was particularly interested in the dog-market. The +display of living dog-flesh here must be very tempting +to one who has a taste for poodle soup or fricasseed pup. +Dominico repudiated the idea that the Russians are addicted +to this article of diet; but the very expression of +his eye as he took up a fat little innocent, smoothed +down its skin, squeezed its ribs, pinched its loins, and +smelled it, satisfied me that a litter of pups would stand +but a poor chance of ever arriving at maturity if they +depended upon forbearance upon his part as a national +virtue. The Chinese quarter of San Francisco affords +some curious examples of the art of compounding sustenance +for man out of odd materials—rats, snails, dried +frogs, star-fish, polypi, and the like; but any person who +wishes to indulge a morbid appetite for the most disgusting +dishes over devised by human ingenuity must visit +Moscow. I adhere to it that the dog-market supplies a +large portion of the population with fancy meats. No +other use could possibly be made of the numberless +squads of fat, hairless dogs tied together and hawked +about by the traders in this article of traffic. I saw one +man—he had the teeth of an ogre and a fearfully carnivorous +expression of eye—carry around a bunch of pups +on each arm, and cry aloud something in his native +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[84]</a></span> +tongue, which I am confident had reference to the tenderness +and juiciness of their flesh. Dominico declared +the man was only talking about the breed—that they +were fine rat-dogs; but I know that was a miserable +subterfuge. Such dogs never caught a rat in this world; +and if they did, it must have been with a view to the +manufacture of sausages.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 377px;"> +<a name="cabinet_makers" id="cabinet_makers"></a> +<img src="images/thor018.png" width="377" height="400" +alt="The craftsmen at their work" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">CABINET-MAKERS.</p> + +<p>A Russian peasant is not particular about the quality +of his food, as may well be supposed from this general +summary. Quantity is the main object. Grease of all +kinds is his special luxury. The upper classes, who have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[85]</a></span> +plenty of money to spare, may buy fish from the Volga +at its weight in gold, and mutton from Astrakan at fabulous +prices; but give the Mujik his <i>batvina</i> (salt grease +and honey boiled together), a loaf of black bread, and a +peck of raw cucumbers, and he is happy. Judging by external +appearances, very little grease seems to be wasted +in the manufacture of soap. Indeed, I would not trust +one of these Mujiks to carry a pound of soap any where +for me, any more than I would a gallon of oil or a pound +of candles. Once I saw a fellow grease his boots with a +lump of dirty fat which he had picked up out of the gutter, +but he took good care first to extract from it the richest +part of its essence by sucking it, and then greasing +his beard. The boots came last. In all probability he +had just dined, or he would have pocketed his treasure +for another occasion, instead of throwing the remnant, +as he did, to the nearest cat.</p> + +<p>In respect to the language, one might as well be dropped +down in Timbuctoo as in a village or country town +of Russia, for all the good the gift of speech would do +him. It is not harsh, as might be supposed, yet wonderfully +like an East India jungle when you attempt to penetrate +it. I could make better headway through a boulder +of solid quartz, or the title to my own house and lot +in Oakland. Now I profess to be able to see as far into +a millstone as most people, but I can’t see in what respect +the Russians behaved any worse than other people +of the Tower of Babel, that they should be afflicted with +a language which nobody can hope to understand before +his beard becomes grizzled, and the top of his head entirely +bald. Many of the better classes, to be sure, speak +French and German; but even in the streets of Moscow +I could seldom find any body who could discover a ray +of meaning in my French or German, which is almost as +plain as English.</p> + +<p>Some people know what you want by instinct, whether +they understand your language or not. Not so the +Russians. Ask for a horse, and they will probably offer +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[86]</a></span> +you a fat goose; inquire the way to your lodgings, and +they are just as likely as not to show you the Foundling +Hospital or a livery-stable; go into an old variety shop, +and express a desire to purchase an Astrakan breast-pin +for your sweet-heart, and the worthy trader hands you +a pair of bellows or an old blunderbuss; cast your eye +upon any old market-woman, and she divines at once +that you are in search of a bunch of chickens or a bucket +of raw cucumbers, and offers them to you at the lowest +market-price; hint to a picture-dealer that you would +like to have an authentic portrait of his imperial majesty, +and he hands you a picture of the Iberian Mother, or St. +George slaying the dragon, or the devil and all his imps; +in short, you can get any thing that you don’t want, and +nothing that you do. If these people are utterly deficient +in any one quality, it is a sense of fitness in things. +They take the most inappropriate times for offering you +the most inappropriate articles of human use that the +imagination can possibly conceive. I was more than +once solicited by the dealers in the markets of Moscow +to carry with me a bunch of live dogs, or a couple of +freshly-scalded pigs, and on one occasion was pressed +very hard to take a brass skillet and a pair of tongs. +What could these good people have supposed I wanted +with articles of this kind on my travels? Is there any +thing in my dress or the expression of my countenance—I +leave it to all who know me—any thing in the mildness +of my speech or the gravity of my manner, to indicate +that I am suffering particularly for bunches of dogs +or scalded pigs, brass skillets or pairs of tongs? Do I +look like a man who labors under a chronic destitution +of dogs, pigs, skillets, and tongs?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 391px;"> +<a name="pigs_pups_and_pans" id="pigs_pups_and_pans"></a> +<img src="images/thor019.png" width="391" height="500" +alt="Street sellers press their wares on a reluctant customer" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PIGS, PUPS, AND PANS.</p> + +<p>It is quite natural that the traveler who finds himself +for the first time within the limits of a purely despotic +government should look around him with some vague +idea that he must see the effects strongly marked upon +the external life of the people; that the restraints imposed +upon popular liberty must be every where apparent. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[87]</a></span> +So far as any thing of this kind may exist in Moscow +or St. Petersburg, it is a notable fact that there are +few cities in the world where it is less visible, or where +the people seem more unrestrained in the exercise of +their popular freedom. Indeed, it struck me rather forcibly, +after my experience in Vienna and Berlin, that the +Russians enjoy quite as large a share of practical +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[88]</a></span> +independence as most of their neighbors. I was particularly +impressed by the bold and independent air of the middle +classes, the politeness with which even the lower orders +address each other, and the absence of those petty and +vexatious restraints which prevail in some of the German +states. The constant dread of infringing upon the police +regulations; the extraordinary deference with which men +in uniform are regarded; the circumspect behavior at +public places; the nice and well-regulated mirthfulness, +never overstepping the strict bounds of prudence, which +I had so often noticed in the northern parts of Germany, +and which may in part be attributed to the naturally orderly +and conservative character of the people, are by +no means prominent features in the principal cities of +Russia.</p> + +<p>Soldiers, indeed, there are in abundance every where +throughout the dominions of the Czar, and the constant +rattle of musketry and clang of arms show that the liberty +of the people is not altogether without limit.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h2> + +<h3>THE NOSE REGIMENT.</h3> + + +<p>I saw nothing in the line of military service that interested +me more than the Imperial Guard. Without +vouching for the truth of the whole story connected with +the history of this famous regiment, I give it as related +to me by Dominico, merely stating as a fact within my +own observation that there is no question whatever +about the peculiarity of their features. It seems that +the Emperor Nicholas, shortly before the Crimean War, +discovered by some means that the best fighting men in +his dominions belonged to a certain wild tribe from the +north, distinguished for the extreme ugliness of their +faces. The most remarkable feature was the nose, which +stood straight out from the base of the forehead in the +form of a triangle, presenting in front the appearance of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[89]</a></span> +a double-barreled pistol. A stiff grizzly mustache underneath +gave them a peculiarly ferocious expression, so +that brave men quailed, and women and children fled +from them in terror. The emperor gave orders that all +men in the ranks possessed of these frightful noses should +be brought before him. Finding, when they were mustered +together, that there was not over one company, he +caused a general average of the noses to be taken, from +which he had a diagram carefully prepared and disseminated +throughout the empire, calling upon the military +commanders of the provinces to send him recruits corresponding +with the prescribed formula.</p> + +<p>In due time he was enabled to muster a thousand of +these ferocious barbarians, whom he caused to be carefully +drilled and disciplined. He kept them in St. Petersburg +under his own immediate supervision till some +time after the attack upon Sebastopol, when, finding the +fortunes of war likely to go against him, he sent them +down to the Crimea, with special instructions to the +commander-in-chief to rely upon them in any emergency. +In compliance with the imperial order, they were +at once placed in the front ranks, and in a very few days +had occasion to display their fighting qualities. At the +very first onslaught of the enemy they stood their ground +manfully till the French troops had approached within +ten feet, when, with one accord, they took to their heels, +and never stopped running till they were entirely out of +sight. It was a disastrous day for the Russians. The +commander-in-chief was overwhelmed with shame and +mortification. A detachment of cavalry was dispatched +in pursuit of the fugitives, who were finally arrested in +their flight and brought back. “Cowards!” thundered +the enraged commander, as they stood drawn up before +him; “miserable poltroons! dastards! is this the way +you do honor to your imperial master? Am I to report +to his most potent majesty that, without striking one +blow in his defense, you ran like sheep? Wretches, +what have you to say for yourselves?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[90]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 388px;"> +<a name="imperial_nosegay" id="imperial_nosegay"></a> +<img src="images/thor020.png" width="388" height="500" +alt="Some of the Imperial Guard lined up and at attention" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">IMPERIAL NOSEGAY.</p> + +<p>“May it please your excellency,” responded the men, +firmly and with unblenched faces, “we ran away, it is +true; but we are not cowards. On the contrary, sire, +we are brave men, and fear neither man nor beast. But +your excellency is aware that nature has gifted us with +noses peculiarly open to unusual impressions. We have +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[91]</a></span> +smelled all the smells known from the far North to the +far South, from the stewed rats of Moscow to the carrion +that lies mouldering upon the plains of the Crimea; +but, if it please your highness, we never smelled Frenchmen +before. There was an unearthly odor about them +that filled our nostrils, and struck a mysterious terror +into our souls.”</p> + +<p>“Fools!” roared the commander-in-chief, bursting with +rage, “what you smelled was nothing more than garlic, +to which these Frenchmen are addicted.”</p> + +<p>“Call it as you will,” firmly responded the men with +the noses, “it was too horrible to be endured. We are +willing to die by the natural casualties of war, but not +by unseen blasts of garlic, against which no human power +can contend.”</p> + +<p>“Then,” cried the commander, in tones of thunder, +“I’ll see that you die to-morrow by the natural casualties +of war. You shall be put in the very front rank, +and care shall be taken to have every man of you shot +down the moment you undertake to run.”</p> + +<p>On the following day this rigorous order was carried +into effect. The nose regiment was placed in front, and +the battle opened with great spirit. The French troops +swept down upon them like an avalanche. For an instant +they looked behind, but, finding no hope of escape +in that direction, each man of them suddenly grasped up +a handful of mud, and, dashing it over his nostrils, shouted +“Death, to the garlic-eaters!” and rushed against the +enemy with indescribable ferocity. Never before were +such prodigies of valor performed on the field of battle. +The French went down like stricken reeds before the +ferocious onslaught of the Imperial Guard. Their dead +bodies lay piled in heaps on the bloody field. The fortunes +of the day were saved, and, panting and bleeding, +the men of Noses stood triumphantly in the presence of +their chief. In an ecstasy of pride and delight he complimented +them upon their valor, and pronounced them +the brightest nosegay in his imperial majesty’s service, +which name they have borne ever since.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[92]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X.</h2> + +<h3>THE EMPEROR’S BEAR-HUNT.</h3> + + +<p>The present emperor, Alexander III., is more distinguished +for his liberal views respecting the rights of his +subjects than for his military proclivities. In private life +he is much beloved, and is said to be a man of very genial +social qualities. His predominating passion in this +relation is a love of hunting. I have been told that he +is especially great on bears. With all your experience +of this manly pastime in America, I doubt if you can +form any conception of the bear-hunts in which the Autocrat +of all the Russias has distinguished himself. Any +body with nerve enough can kill a grizzly, but it requires +both nerve and money to kill bears of any kind in the +genuine autocratic style. By an imperial ukase it has +been ordered that when any of the peasants or serfs discover +a bear within twenty versts of the Moscow and St. +Petersburg Railway, they must make known the fact to +the proprietor of the estate, whose duty it is to communicate +official information of the discovery to the corresponding +secretary of the Czar. With becoming humility +the secretary announces the tidings to his royal master, +who directs him to advise the distant party that his +majesty is much pleased, and will avail himself of his +earliest leisure to proceed to the scene of action. In the +mean time the entire available force of the estate is set +to work to watch the bear, and from three to five hundred +men, armed with cudgels, tin pans, old kettles, drums, +etc., are stationed in a circle around him. Dogs also are +employed upon this important service. The advance +trains, under the direction of the master hunter, having +deposited their stores of wines, cordials, and provisions, +and telegraphic communications being transmitted to +head-quarters from time to time, it is at length privately +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[93]</a></span> +announced that his imperial majesty has condescended +to honor the place with his presence, and, should the +saints not prove averse, will be there with his royal party +at the hour and on the day specified in the imperial +dispatch. The grand convoy is then put upon the track; +dispatches are transmitted to all the stations; officers, +soldiers, and guards are required to be in attendance to +do honor to their sovereign master—privately, of course, +as this is simply an unofficial affair which nobody is supposed +to know any thing about. The emperor, having +selected his chosen few—that is to say, half a dozen +princes, a dozen dukes, a score or two of counts and +barons—all fine fellows and genuine bloods—proceeds +unostentatiously to the dépôt in his hunting-carriage (a +simple little affair, manufactured at a cost of only forty +thousand rubles or so), where he is astonished to see a +large concourse of admiring subjects, gayly interspersed +with soldiers, all accidentally gathered there to see him +off. Now hats are removed, bows are made, suppressed +murmurs of delight run through the crowd; the locomotive +whizzes and fizzes with impatience; bells are rung, +arms are grounded; the princes, dukes, and barons—jolly +fellows as they are—laugh and joke just like common +people; bells ring again and whistles blow; a signal +is made, and the Autocrat of all the Russias is off on +his bear-hunt!</p> + +<p>In an hour, or two or three hours, as the case may be, +the royal hunters arrive at the destined station. Should +the public business be pressing, it is not improbable the +emperor, availing himself of the conveniences provided +for him by Winans and Co., in whose magnificent present +of a railway carriage he travels, has in the mean time +dispatched a fleet of vessels to Finland, ten or a dozen +extra regiments of Cossacks to Warsaw, closed upon +terms for a loan of fifty millions, banished various objectionable +parties to the deserts of Siberia, and partaken +of a game or two of whist with his camarilla.</p> + +<p>But now the important affair of the day is at hand—the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[94]</a></span> +bear—the terrible black bear, which every body is +fully armed and equipped to kill, but which every body +knows by instinct is going to be killed by the emperor, +because of his majesty’s superior skill and courage on +trying occasions of this sort. What a blessing it is to +possess such steadiness of nerve! I would not hesitate +one moment to attack the most ferocious grizzly in existence +if I felt half as much confidence in my ability to +kill it. But the carriages are waiting; the horses are +prancing; the hunters are blowing their bugles; the +royal party are mounting on horseback or in their carriages, +as best may suit their taste, and the signal is +given! A salute is fired by the Guard, huzzas ring +through the air, and the Czar of all the Russias is fairly +off on his hunt. Trees fly by; desert patches of ground +whirl from under; versts are as nothing to these spirited +steeds and their spirited masters, and in an hour or so +the grand scene of action is reached. Here couriers +stand ready to conduct the imperial hunters into the +very jaws of death. The noble proprietor himself, bareheaded, +greets the royal pageant; the serfs bow down +in Oriental fashion; the dashing young Czar touches his +hunting-cap in military style and waves his hand gallantly +to the ladies of the household, who are peeping at him +from their carriages in the distance. Once more the +bugle is sounded, and away they dash—knights, nobles, +and all—the handsome and gallant Czar leading the way +by several lengths. Soon the terrific cry is heard—“Halt! +the bear! the bear! Halt!” Shut your eyes, +reader, for you never can stand such a sight as that—a +full-grown black bear, not two hundred yards off, in the +middle of an open space, surrounded by five hundred +men hidden behind trees and driving him back from every +point where he attempts to escape. You don’t see +the men, but you hear them shouting and banging upon +their pots, pans, and kettles. Now just open one eye +and see the emperor dismount from his famous charger, +and deliver the rein to a dozen domestics, deliberately +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[95]</a></span> +cock his rifle, and fearlessly get behind the nearest tree +within the range of the bear. By this time you perceive +that Bruin is dancing a <i>pas seul</i> on his hind legs, utterly +confounded with the noises around him. Shut your eyes +again, for the emperor is taking his royal aim, and will +presently crack away with his royal rifle. Hist! triggers +are clicking around you in every direction, but you +needn’t be the least afraid, for, although the bear is covered +by a reserve of forty rifles, not one of the hunters +has nerve enough to shoot unless officially authorized or +personally desirous of visiting the silver-mines of Siberia. +Crack! thug! The smoke clears away. By Jove! his +imperial majesty has done it cleverly; hit the brute +plumb on the os frontis, or through the heart, it makes +no difference which. Down drops Bruin, kicking and +tearing up the earth at a dreadful rate; cheers rend the +welkin; pots, pans, and kettles are banged. High above +all rises the stern voice of the autocrat, calling for another +rifle, which is immediately handed to him. Humanity +requires that he should at once put an end to the +poor animal’s sufferings, and he does it with his accustomed +skill.</p> + +<p>Now the bear having kicked his last, an intrepid hunter +charges up to the spot on horseback, whirls around it +two or three times, carefully examines the body with an +opera-glass, returns, and, approaching the royal presence +with uncovered head, delivers himself according to this +formula: “May it please your most gallant and imperial +majesty, <small>THE BEAR IS DEAD</small>!” The emperor sometimes +responds, “Is he?” but usually contents himself by waving +his hand in an indifferent manner, puffing his cigar, +and calling for his horse. Sixteen grooms immediately +rush forward with his majesty’s horse; and, being still +young and vigorous, he mounts without difficulty, unaided +except by Master of Stirrups. Next he draws an +ivory-handled revolver—a present from Colt, of New +York—and, dashing fearlessly upon the bear, fires six +shots into the dead body; upon which he coolly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[96]</a></span> +dismounts, and pulling forth from the breast of his hunting-coat +an Arkansas bowie-knife—a present from the poet +Albert Pike, of Little Rock—plunges that dangerous +weapon into the bowels of the dead bear; then rising to +his full height, with a dark and stern countenance, he +holds the blood-dripping blade high in the air, so that all +may see it, and utters one wild stentorian and terrific +shout, “Harasho! harasho!” signifying in English, “Good! +very well!” The cry is caught up by the princes and +nobles, who, with uncovered heads, now crowd around +their gallant emperor, and waving their hats, likewise +shout “Harasho! harasho!”—“Good! very well!” +Then the five hundred peasants rush in with their tin +pans, kettles, and drums, and amid the most amazing din +catch up the inspiring strain, and deafen every ear with +their wild shouts of “Harasho! harasho!”—“Good! +very well!” Upon which the emperor, rapidly mounting, +places a finger in each ear, and, still puffing his cigar, +rides triumphantly away.</p> + +<p>The bear is hastily gutted and dressed with flowers. +When all is ready the royal party return to the railroad +dépôt in a long procession, headed by his majesty, and +brought up in the rear by the dead body of Bruin borne +on poles by six-and-twenty powerful serfs. Refreshments +in the mean time have been administered to every +body of high and low degree, and by the time they reach +the dépôt there are but two sober individuals in the entire +procession—his royal majesty and the bear. Farther +refreshments are administered all round during the +journey back to St. Petersburg, and, notwithstanding he +is rigidly prohibited by his physician from the use of +stimulating beverages, it is supposed that a reaction has +now taken place, which renders necessary a modification +of the medical ukase. At all events, I am told the bear +is sometimes the only really steady member of the party +by the time the imperial pageant reaches the palace. +When the usual ceremonies of congratulation are over, +a merry dance winds up the evening. After this the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[97]</a></span> +company disperses to prayer and slumber, and thus ends +the great bear-hunt of his majesty the Autocrat of all +the Russias.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI.</h2> + +<h3>RUSSIAN HUMOR.</h3> + + +<p>The Russians have little or no humor, though they +are not deficient in a certain grotesque savagery bordering +on the humorous. There is something fearfully +vicious in the royal freaks of fancy of which Russian +history furnishes us so many examples. We read with +a shudder of the facetious compliment paid to the Italian +architect by Ivan the Terrible, who caused the poor +man’s eyes to be put out that he might never see to +build another church so beautiful as that of St. Basil. +We can not but smile at the grim humor of Peter the +Great, who, upon seeing a crowd of men with wigs and +gowns at Westminster Hall, and being informed that +they were lawyers, observed that he had but two in his +whole empire, and he believed he would hang one of +them as soon as he got home. A still more striking +though less ghastly freak of fancy was that perpetrated +by the Empress Anne of Courland, who, on the occasion +of the marriage of her favorite buffoon, Galitzin, caused +a palace of ice to be built, with a bed of the same material, +in which she compelled the happy pair to pass +their wedding night. The Empress Catharine II., a +Pomeranian by birth, but thoroughly Russian in her +morals, possessed a more ardent temperament. What +time she did not spend in gratifying her ambition by +slaughtering men, she spent in loving them:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">“For, though she would widow all<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nations, she liked man as an individual.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>She never dismissed an old admirer until she had secured +several new ones, and generally consoled those +who had served her by a present of twenty or thirty +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[98]</a></span> +thousand serfs. On the death of Lanskoi, it is recorded +of her that “she gave herself up to the most poignant +grief, and remained three months without going out of +her palace of Czarsko Selo,” thus perpetrating a very curious +practical satire upon the holiest of human affections. +Her grenadier lover Potemkin, according to the +character given of him by the Count Ségur, was little +better than a gigantic and savage buffoon—licentious +and superstitious, bold and timid by turns—sometimes +desiring to be King of Poland, at others a bishop or a +monk. Of him we read that “he put out an eye to free +it from a blemish which diminished his beauty. Banished +by his rival, he ran to meet death in battle, and returned +with glory.” Another pleasant little jest was +that perpetrated by Suwarrow, who, after the bloody +battle of Tourtourskaya, announced the result to his +mistress in an epigram of two doggerel lines. This was +the terrible warrior who used to sleep almost naked in +a room of suffocating heat, and rush out to review his +troops in a linen jacket, with the thermometer of Reaumur +ten degrees below freezing point. Of the Emperor +Paul, the son of Catharine, we read that he issued +a ukase against the use of shoe-strings and round hats; +caused all the watch-boxes, gates, and bridges throughout +the empire to be painted in the most glaring and +fantastic colors, and passed a considerable portion of his +time riding on a wooden rocking-horse—a degenerate +practice for a scion of the bold Catharine, who used to +dress herself in men’s clothes, and ride a-straddle on the +back of a live horse to review her troops. Alexander I., +in his ukase of September, 1827, perpetrated a very fine +piece of Russian humor. The period of military service +for serfs is fixed at twenty years in the Imperial Guard, +and twenty-two in other branches of the service. It is +stated in express terms that the moment a serf becomes +enrolled in the ranks of the army he is free! But he +must not desert, for if he does he becomes a slave again. +This idea of freedom is really refreshing. Only twenty +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[99]</a></span> +or twenty-two years of the gentle restraints of Russian +military discipline to be enjoyed after becoming a free +agent! Then he may go off (at the age of fifty or sixty, +say), unless disease or gunpowder has carried him off +long before, to enjoy the sweets of hard labor in some +agreeable desert, or the position of a watchman on the +frontiers of Siberia, where the climate is probably considered +salubrious.</p> + +<p>These may be considered royal or princely vagaries, +in which great people are privileged to indulge; but I +think it will be found that the same capricious savagery +of humor—if I may so call it—prevails to some extent +among all classes of Russians. In some instances it can +scarcely be associated with any idea of mirthfulness, yet +in the love of strange, startling, and incongruous ideas +there is something bordering on the humorous. On +Recollection Monday, for example, the mass of the people +go out into the grave-yards, and, spreading table-cloths +on the mounds that cover the dead bodies of +their relatives, drink quass and vodka to the health of +the deceased, saying, “Since the dead are unable to +drink, the living must drink for them!” Rather a grave +excuse, one must think, for intoxication.</p> + +<p>In the museum of Peter the Great at St. Petersburg +stands the stuffed skin of his favorite servant—a gigantic +Holsteiner—one of the most ghastly of all the grotesque +and ghastly relics in that remarkable institution. It is +not a very agreeable subject for the pencil of an artist, +yet there is something so original in the idea of stuffing +a human being and putting him up for exhibition before +the public that I am constrained to introduce the following +sketch of this strange spectacle.</p> + +<p>In one of the arsenals is an eagle made of gun-flints, +with swords for wings, daggers for feathers, and the +mouths of cannons for eyes. A painting of the Strelitzes, +in another, represents heaven as containing the Russian +priests and all the faithful; while the other place—a region +of fire and brimstone—contains Jews, Tartars, Germans, +and negroes!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[100]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 298px;"> +<a name="skinned_and_stuffed_man" id="skinned_and_stuffed_man"></a> +<img src="images/thor021.png" width="298" height="500" +alt="The man, dressed smartly, stands on display" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SKINNED AND STUFFED MAN.</p> + +<p>The winter markets of Moscow and St. Petersburg +present some of the most cadaverous specimens of the +startling humor in which the Russians delight. Here +you find frozen oxen, calves, sheep, rabbits, geese, ducks, +and all manner of animals and birds, once animate with +life, now stiff and stark in death. The oxen stand staring +at you with their fixed eyes and gory carcasses; the +calves are jumping or frisking in skinless innocence; the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[102]</a></span> +sheep ba-a at you with open mouths, or cast sheep’s-eyes +at the by-passers; the rabbits, having traveled hundreds +of miles, are jumping, or running, or turning somersaults +in frozen tableaux to keep themselves warm, and so on +with every variety of flesh, fowl, and even fish. The +butchers cut short these expressive practical witticisms +by means of saws, as one might saw a block of wood; +and the saw-dust, which is really frozen flesh and blood +in a powdered state, is gathered up in baskets and carried +away by the children and ragamuffins to be made +into soup.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="frozen_animals_in_the_market" id="frozen_animals_in_the_market"></a> +<img src="images/thor022.png" width="600" height="467" +alt="Meat sellers and customers, surrounded by the frozen creatures" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FROZEN ANIMALS IN THE MARKET.</p> + +<p>I can conceive of nothing humorous in these people +which is not associated in some way with the cruel and +the grotesque. They have many noble and generous +traits, but lack delicacy of feeling. Where the range of +the thermometer is from a hundred to a hundred and fifty +degrees of Fahrenheit, their character must partake in +some sort of the qualities of the climate—fierce, rigorous, +and pitiless in its wintry aspect, and without the +compensating and genial tenderness of spring; fitful and +passionate as the scorching heats of summer, and dark, +stormy, and dreary as the desolation of autumn.</p> + +<p>I could not but marvel, as I sat in some of the common +traktirs, at the extraordinary affection manifested +by the Russians for cats. It appeared to me that the +proprietors must keep a feline corps expressly for the +amusement of their customers. At one of these places +I saw at least forty cats, of various breeds, from the confines +of Tartary to the city of Paris. They were up +on the tables, on the benches, on the floor, under the +benches, on the backs of the tea-drinkers, in their laps, +in their arms—every where. I strongly suspected that +they answered the purpose of waiters, and that the +owner relied upon them to keep the plates clean. Possibly, +too, they were made available as musicians. I +have a notion the Russians entertain the same superstitious +devotion to cats that the Banyans of India do to +cows, and the French and Germans to nasty little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[103]</a></span> +poodles. To see a great shaggy boor, his face dripping +with grease, his eyes swimming in vodka, sit all doubled +up, fondling and caressing these feline pets; holding +them in his hands; pressing their velvety fur to his +eyes, cheeks, even his lips; listening with delight to +their screams and squalls, is indeed a curious spectacle.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<a name="mujik_and_cats" id="mujik_and_cats"></a> +<img src="images/thor023.png" width="390" height="500" +alt="A mujik with at least seven cats climbing, playing and sitting around him" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MUJIK AND CATS.</p> + +<p>Now I have no unchristian feeling toward any of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[104]</a></span> +brute creation, but I don’t affect cats. Nor can I say +that I greatly enjoy their music. I heard the very best +bands of tom-cats every night during my sojourn in +Moscow, and consider them utterly deficient in style and +execution. It belongs, I think, to the Music of Futurity, +so much discussed by the critics of Europe during the +past few years—a peculiar school of anti-melody that +requires people yet to be born to appreciate it thoroughly. +The discords may be very fine, and the passion very +striking and tempestuous, but it is worse than thrown +away on an uncultivated ear like mine.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII.</h2> + +<h3>A MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURE.</h3> + + +<p>The police of Moscow are not an attractive class of +men, considering them in the light of guardians of the law. +With a good deal of pomposity and laziness, they mingle +much filth and rascality. The emperor may have great +confidence in them, based upon some knowledge of their +talents and virtues not shared by casual tourists; but if +he would trust one of them with ten kopeks, or agree +to place the life of any intimate personal friend in their +keeping, in any of the dark alleys of Moscow, his faith in +their integrity and humanity must be greater than mine. +Indeed, upon casting around me in search of a parallel, I +am not quite sure that I ever saw such a scurvy set of +vagabonds employed to preserve the public peace in any +other country, except, perhaps, in Spain. The guardians +of the law in Cadiz and Seville are dark and forbidding +enough in all conscience, and unscrupulous enough to +turn a penny in any way not requiring the exercise of +personal energy; and the police of Barcelona are not inferior +in all that constitutes moral turpitude, but they +can not surpass the Moscovites in filthiness of person or +any of the essential attributes of villainy.</p> + +<p>I have it upon good authority that they are the very +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[105]</a></span> +worst set of thieves in the place, and that they will not +hesitate to unite with any midnight prowler for the purpose +of robbing a stranger. True, they did not rob me, +but the reason of that is obvious. I gave them to understand +at the start that I was connected with the +press. You seldom hear of a writer for newspapers being +robbed; and if such a thing ever does happen, the +amount taken is never large.</p> + +<p>As a consequence of this proclivity for ill-gotten gains +on the part of the guardians of the law, it is unsafe for a +stranger to go through the less frequented streets of +Moscow at night. Should he chance to be stopped by +two or three footpads and call for help, he will doubtless +wake up some drowsy guardian of the law, but the help +will be all against him. Instances have been related to +me of robberies in which the police were the most active +assailants, the robbers merely standing by for their share +of the plunder. Should the unfortunate victim knock +down a footpad or two in self-defense, it is good ground +for an arrest, and both robbers and policemen become +witnesses against him. A man had better get involved +in a question of title to his property before the courts of +California than be arrested for assault and battery, and +carried before any of the civil tribunals in Russia. There +is no end of the law’s delays in these institutions, and his +only chance of justice is to get his case before the emperor, +who is practically the Supreme Court of the empire. +Otherwise the really aggrieved party must pay a +fine for defending himself, and support the assaulted man, +whose nose he may have battered, during an unlimited +period at the hospital, together with physician’s fees for +all the real or imaginary injuries inflicted. I met with a +young American who was followed by a stalwart ruffian +one night in returning from one of the public gardens. +The man dogged his footsteps for some time. At length, +there being nobody near to render aid, the robber mustered +courage enough to seize hold and attempt to intimidate +his supposed victim by brandishing a knife. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[106]</a></span> +He came from a country where they were not uncommon, +and, besides, was an adept on the shoulder. With +a sudden jerk he freed himself, and, hauling off a little, +gave his assailant a note of hand that knocked him down. +I am not versed in the classics of the ring, or I would +make something out of this fight. The pad dropped like +a stricken ox, his knife flying picturesquely through the +silvery rays of the moon. Next moment he was on his +feet again, the claret shining beautifully on his cheeks and +beard. Throwing out his claws like a huge grizzly, he +rushed in, gnashing his teeth and swearing horribly. +This time our friend was fairly aroused, and the wretch +promptly measured his length on the ground. Thinking +he had scattered it on rather heavy, the American stooped +down to see how matters stood, when the fellow +grasped him by the coat and commenced shouting with +all his might for the police—“Help! help! murder! +murder!” There was no remedy but to silence him, +which our friend dexterously accomplished by a blow on +the os frontis. Hearing the approaching footsteps of +the police, he then concluded it was best to make his +escape, and accordingly took to his heels. Chase was +given, but he was as good at running as he was at the +noble art of self-defense, and soon distanced his pursuers. +Fortunately, he reached his quarters without being recognised. +This was all that saved him from arrest and +imprisonment, or the payment of a fine for the assault.</p> + +<p>A common practice, as I was informed, is to arrest a +stranger for some alleged breach of the law, such as +smoking a cigar in the streets, or using disrespectful language +toward the constituted authorities. Not being accustomed +to the intricacies of a Russian judiciary, it is difficult, +when once the matter comes before a tribunal of +justice, for a foreigner to rebut the testimony brought +against him; and if he be in a hurry to get away, his +only course is to bribe the parties interested in his detention. +It would be unjust to say that this system prevails +universally throughout Russia. There is a small +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[107]</a></span> +circle around the imperial presence said to be exempt +from corruption; and there may possibly be a few dignitaries +of the government, in remote parts of the empire, +who will not tell an untruth unless in their official correspondence, +or steal except to make up what they consider +due to them for public services; but the circle of +immaculate ones is very small, and commences very near +the Czar, and the other exceptions referred to are exceedingly +rare. Thieving may be said to begin within +gunshot of the capital, and to attain its culminating excellences +on the confines of Tartary. The difference is +only in degree between the higher and the lower grades +of officers. Hence, although it is quite possible to obtain +full reparation for an injury before the Czar, through +the intervention of a consul or a minister, it is a vexatious +and expensive mode of proceeding, and would only +result at last in the transportation of some miserable +wretch to the mines of Siberia. Of course no man with +a spark of feeling would like to see a poor fellow-creature +go there. For my part, I would rather suffer any +amount of injustice than be the cause of sending a fellow-mortal +on so long and dreary a journey.</p> + +<p>The whole bearing of which you will presently discover. +I am going to tell you a very singular adventure +that befell me in Moscow. Do not be impatient; it will +all come in due time. A few dashes of preliminary description +will be necessary, by way of introduction, otherwise +it would be impossible to comprehend the full +scope and purpose of my narrative. If you be of the +rougher mould, cherished reader, just cast yourself back +somewhere at your ease, take this most excellently printed +book deftly between your fingers, with a good cigar +between your teeth; throw your legs over your desk, a +gunny-bag, a fence-rail, or the mantel-piece of the bar-room, +as the case may be; give me the benefit of your +friendship and confidence, and read away at your leisure. +But if you be one of those gentle beings placed upon +earth to diffuse joy and happiness over the desert of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[108]</a></span> +life, I pray you consider me a serf at your imperial foot-stool; +bend on me those tender eyes; and with the +mingled respect and admiration due by all men to female +loveliness, I shall proceed at once to tell you (confidentially +of course)</p> + + +<p class="center smlpadt">A MYSTERIOUS ADVENTURE</p> + +<p>It so happened in Moscow that I fell in with a very +pleasant and sociable party of Americans, several of +whom were in the railway service, and therefore might +reasonably be regarded as fast young gentlemen, though +far be it from me to imply any thing injurious to their +reputation. Beyond an excessive passion for tea, acquired +by long residence in Moscow, I do not know that +a single one of them was at all dissipated. When I first +called at the rooms of these lively countrymen, they immediately +got out their tea-urns, and assured me that it +would be impossible to comprehend any thing of Russian +life till I had partaken freely of Russian tea, therefore +I was obliged to drink five or six glasses by way +of a beginning. Having freely discussed the affairs of +the American nation at one room, we adjourned to another, +where we had a fresh supply of tea; and then, +after settling the rebellion to our common satisfaction, +adjourned to another, and so on throughout the best +part of the day. Sometimes we stopped in at a <i>traktir</i> +and had a portion or two, dashed with a little Cognac, +which my friends assured me would prevent it from +having any injurious effect upon the nervous system. +In this way, within a period of twelve hours, owing to +the kindness and hospitality of these agreeable Americans, +who insisted upon treating me to tea, in public and +in private, at every turn of our rambles, I must have +swallowed a gallon or two of this delicious beverage. +The weather was exceedingly warm, but these experienced +gentlemen insisted upon it that Russian tea was +a sovereign antidote for warm weather, especially when +dashed with Cognac, as it drove all the caloric out of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[109]</a></span> +the body through the pores of the skin. “Don’t be +afraid!” said they, encouragingly; “drink just as much +as you please—it will cool you! See how the Russians +drink it. Nothing else enables them to stand these fiery +hot summers after their polar winters!” Well, I didn’t +feel exactly cool, with thirty or forty tumblers of boiling +hot tea, dashed with Cognac, in my veins, but what +was the use of remonstrating? They <em>lived</em> in Moscow—they +<em>knew</em> better than I did what was good for strangers—so +I kept on swallowing a little more, just to +oblige them, till I verily believe, had any body stuck a +pin in me, or had I undertaken to make a speech, I would +have spouted Russian tea.</p> + +<p>Why is it that the moment any body wants to render +you a service, or manifest some token of friendship, +he commences by striking at the very root of your digestive +functions? Is it not exacting a little too much +of human nature to require a man to consider himself a +large sponge, in order that hospitality may be poured +into him by the gallon? When a person of pliant and +amiable disposition visits a set of good fellows, and they +take some trouble to entertain him; when they think +they are delighting him internally and externally—not +to say infernally—with such tea as he never drank before, +it is hard to refuse. The moral courage necessary +for the peremptory rejection of such advances would +make a hero. Thus it has ever been with me—I am +the victim of misplaced hospitality. It has been the besetting +trouble of my life. I remember once eating a +Nantucket pudding to oblige a lady. It was made of +corn-meal and molasses, with some diabolical compound +in the way of sauce—possibly whale-oil and tar. I had +just eaten a hearty dinner; but the lady insisted upon +it that the pudding was a great dish in Nantucket, and +I must try it. Well, I stuffed and gagged at it, out of +pure politeness, till every morsel on the plate was gone, +declaring all the time that it was perfectly delicious. +The lady was charmed, and, in the face of every denial, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[110]</a></span> +instantly filled the plate again. What could I do but +eat it? And after eating till I verily believe one half +of me was composed of Nantucket pudding, and the +other half of whale-oil and tar, what could I do but +praise it again? The third attempt upon my life was +made by this most excellent and hospitable lady; but I +gave way, and had to beg off. Human nature could +stand it no longer. The consequence was, I wounded +her feelings. She regretted very much that I disliked +Nantucket pudding, and I don’t think ever quite forgave +me for my prejudice against that article of diet, though +her kindness laid me up sick for two weeks. Nor is this +an isolated case. I might relate a thousand others in +illustration of the melancholy fact that hospitality has +been the bane of my life. When I think of all the sufferings +I have endured out of mere politeness—though +by no means accounted a polite person—tears of grief +and indignation spring to my eyes. Old John Rogers +at the stake never suffered such martyrdom. But there +is an end of it! The <i>tchai</i> of Moscow finished all this +sort of thing—so far, at least, as the male sex is concerned. +I would still eat a coyote or a weasel to oblige +a lady, but as to drinking two gallons of strong tea per +day, dashed with Cognac to reduce its temperature, to +oblige any man that ever wore a beard, I solemnly declare +I’ll die first. The thing is an imposition—an outrage. +Every man has a right to my time, my purse, my +real estate in Oakland, my coat, my boots, or my razor—nay, +in a case of emergency, my tooth-brush—but no +man has a right to deluge my diaphragm with slops, or +make a ditch of Mundus of my stomach.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> +<a name="effects_of_little_water" id="effects_of_little_water"></a> +<img src="images/thor024.png" width="409" height="500" +alt="Two men support each other as they walk" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">EFFECTS OF “LITTLE WATER.”</p> + +<p>At the Peterskoi Gardens we had a little more tea, +dashed with <i>vodka</i>, to keep out the night air. As soon +as the fire-works were over we adjourned to the pavilion, +and refreshed ourselves with a little more tea +slightly impregnated with some more <i>vodka</i>. Now I +don’t know exactly what this vodka is made of, but I +believe it is an extract of corn. In the Russian +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[111]</a></span> +language <i>voda</i> is water, and <i>vodka</i> means “little water.” +There certainly was very little in what we got, or the +tea must have been stronger than usual, for, notwithstanding +these agreeable young gentlemen protested a +gallon of such stuff would not produce the slightest effect, +it seemed to me—though there might have been +some delusion in the idea, arising from ignorance of +Russian customs—that my head went round like a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[112]</a></span> +whirligig; and by the time I took my leave of these +experienced young friends and retired to my room at +the <i>Hotel de Venise</i>, it did likewise occur to me—though +that too may have been a mere notion—that there was +a hive of bees in each ear. Upon due consideration of +all the facts, I thought it best to turn in, and resume +any inquiries that might be necessary for the elucidation +of these phenomena in the morning.</p> + +<p>[Here, you perceive, I am gradually verging toward +the adventure. The heroine of the romance has not yet +made her appearance, but depend upon it she is getting +ready. You should never hurry the female characters; +besides, it is not proper, even if this were all fiction instead +of sober truth, that the heroine should be brought +upon the stage just as the hero is tumbling into bed.]</p> + +<p>But to proceed. Sleep was effectually banished from +my eyes, and no wonder. Who in the name of sense +could sleep with forty tumblers of Russian tea—to say +nothing of the dashes that were put in it—simmering +through every nook and cranny of his body, and boiling +over in his head? There I lay, twisting and tumbling, +the pillow continually descending into the depths of infinity, +but never getting any where—the bed rolling like +a dismantled hulk upon a stormy sea—the room filled +with steaming and hissing urns—a fearful thirst parching +my throat, while myriads of horrid bearded Russians +were torturing me with tumblers of boiling-hot tea dashed +with <i>vodka</i>—thus I lay a perfect victim of tea. I +could even see Chinamen with long queues picking tea-leaves +off endless varieties of shrubs that grew upon the +papered walls; and Kalmuck Tartars, with their long +caravans, traversing the dreary steppes of Tartary laden +with inexhaustible burdens of the precious leaf; and the +great fair of Nijni Novgorod, with its booths, and tents, +and countless boxes of tea, and busy throngs of traders +and tea-merchants, all passing like a panorama before +me, and all growing naturally out of an indefinite background +of tea.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[113]</a></span> +I can not distinctly remember how long I tossed about +in this way, beset by all sorts of vagaries. Sometimes I +fancied sleep had come, and that the whole matter was +a ridiculous freak of fancy, including my visit to Moscow—that +Russian tea was all a fiction, and <i>vodka</i> a mere +nightmare; but with a nervous start I would find myself +awake, the palpable reality of my extraordinary condition +staring me in the face. Unable to endure such an +anomalous frame of mind and body any longer, I at +length resolved to go down and take an airing in the +streets, believing, if any thing would have a beneficial +effect, it would be the fresh air. Acting upon this idea, +I hastily dressed myself and descended to the front door. +The <i>Hotel de Venise</i> is situated in a central part of the +city, at no great distance from the Kremlin. It stands +back in a large open yard, with a very pretty garden to +the right as you enter from the main street. The proprietor +is a Russian, but the hotel is conducted in the +French style, and, although not more conspicuous for +cleanliness than other establishments of the same class +in Moscow, it is nevertheless tolerably free from vermin. +The fleas in it were certainly neither so lively nor so entertaining +as I have found them at many of the Spanish +ranches in California, and the bugs, I am sure, are nothing +like so corpulent as some I have seen in Washington +City. I throw this in gratis, as a sort of puff, in consideration +of an understanding with the landlord, that if he +would refrain from cheating me I would recommend his +hotel to American travelers. It is very good of its kind, +and no person fond of veal, as a standard dish, can suffer +from hunger at this establishment so long as calves continue +to be born any where in the neighborhood of Moscow.</p> + +<p>The porter, a drowsy old fellow in livery, whose only +business, so far as I could discover, was to bow to the +guests as they passed in and out during the day, at the +expense of a kopek to each one of them for every bow, +napping on a lounge close by the front door. Hearing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[114]</a></span> +my footsteps, he awoke, rubbed his eyes, bowed +habitually, and then stared at me with a vacant and +somewhat startled expression. It was not a common +thing evidently for lodgers to go out of the hotel at that +time of night, or rather morning—it must have been +nearly two o’clock—for, after gazing a while at what he +doubtless took to be an apparition or an absconding +boarder whose bill had not been settled, he grumbled +out something like a dissent, and stood between me and +the door. A small fee of ten kopeks, which I placed in +his hand, aided him in grasping at the mysteries of the +case, and he unlocked the door and let me out, merely +shaking his head gravely, as if he divined my purpose, +but did not altogether approve of it in one of my age +and sedate appearance. In that, however, he was mistaken: +I had no disposition to form any tender alliances +in Moscow.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="russian_beggars" id="russian_beggars"></a> +<img src="images/thor025.png" width="400" height="398" +alt="A young boy and an older man hold out their hats" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">RUSSIAN BEGGARS.</p> + +<p>The streets were almost deserted. An occasional drosky, +carrying home some belated pleasure-seeker, was all +that disturbed the silence. I walked some distance in +the direction of the Kremlin. The air was deliciously +cool and refreshing, and the sky wore a still richer glow +than I had noticed a few hours before at the gardens of +the Peterskoi. The moon had not yet gone down, but +the first glowing blushes of the early morning were stealing +over the heavens, mingled with its silvery light. I +took off my hat to enjoy the fresh air, and wandered +along quite enchanted with the richness and variety of +the scene. Every turn of the silent streets brought me +in view of some gilded pile of cupolas, standing in glowing +relief against the sky. Churches of strange Asiatic +form, the domes richly and fancifully colored; golden +stars glittering upon a groundwork of blue, green, or +yellow; shrines with burning tapers over the massive +doors and gateways, were scattered in every direction +in the most beautiful profusion. Sometimes I saw a solitary +beggar kneeling devoutly before some gilded saint, +and mourning over the weariness of life. Once I was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[115]</a></span> +startled by the apparition of a poor wretch lying asleep—I +thought he was dead—a crippled wreck upon the +stone steps—his eyes closed in brief oblivion of the +world and its sorrows, his furrowed and pallid features +a ghastly commentary upon the glittering temples and +idols that surround him. For above all these things +that are “decked with silver and with gold, and fastened +with nails and with hammers that they move not,” +there is One who hath “made the earth by His power +and established the world by His wisdom;” man is +but brutish in his knowledge; “every founder is confounded +by the graven image; for his molten image is +falsehood, and there is no breath in them.” Such extremes +every where abound in Moscow—magnificence +and filth; wealth and poverty; a superstitious belief in +the power of images in the midst of abject proofs of +their impotence. And yet, is it not better that men +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[116]</a></span> +should believe in something rather than in nothing? +The glittering idol can not touch the crippled beggar +and put health and strength in his limbs, but if the poor +sufferer can sleep better upon the cold stones in the presence +of his patron saint than elsewhere, in charity’s name +let him,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">“O’erlabored with his being’s strife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Shrink to that sweet forgetfulness of life.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>I wandered on. Soon the cupolas of the mighty Kremlin +were in sight, all aglow with the bright sheen of the +morn. Passing along its embattled walls, which now +seemed of snowy whiteness, I reached the grand plaza +of the Krasnoi Ploschod. Standing out in the open +space, I gazed at the wondrous pile of gold-covered +domes till my eyes rested on the highest point—the +majestic tower of Ivan Veliki. And then I could but +think of the terrible Czar—the fourth of the fierce race +of Ivans, who ruled the destinies of Russia; he who killed +his own son in a fit of rage, yet never shook hands +with a foreign embassador without washing his own immediately +after; the patron of monasteries, and the conqueror +of Kazan, Astrakan, and Siberia. This was the +most cruel yet most enlightened of his name. I am not +sure whether the tower was built to commemorate his +fame or that of his grandfather, Ivan the Third, also called +“the Terrible,” of whom Karasmin says that, “when +excited with anger, his glance would make a timid woman +swoon; that petitioners dreaded to approach his throne, +and that even at his table the boyars, his grandees, trembled +before him.” A terrible fellow, no doubt, and thoroughly +Russian by the testimony of this Russian historian, +for where else will you find men so terrible as to +make timid women swoon by a single glance of their +eye? Not in California, surely! If I were a Czar this +soft summer night (such was the idea that naturally occurred +to me), I would gaze upon the fair flowers of +creation with an entirely different expression of countenance. +They should neither wilt nor swoon unless +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[117]</a></span> +overcome by the delicacy and tenderness of my admiration.</p> + +<p>From the green towers of the Holy Gate, where neither +Czar nor serf can enter without uncovering his +head, I turned toward the Vassoli Blagennoi—the wondrous +maze of churches that gathers around the Cathedral +of St. Basil. Not in all Moscow is there a sight so +strange and gorgeous as this. The globular domes, all +striped with the varied colors of the rainbow; the glittering +gold-gilt cupolas; the rare and fanciful minarets; +the shrines, and crosses, and stars; the massive steps; +the iron railing, with shining gold-capped points—surely, +in the combination of striking and picturesque forms +and colors, lights and shades, must ever remain unequaled. +The comparison may seem frivolous, yet it resembled +more, to my eye, some gigantic cactus of the tropics, +with its needles and rich colors, its round, prickly +domes and fantastic cupolas, than any thing I had ever +seen before in the shape of a church or group of churches. +While I gazed in wonder at the strange fabric, I could +not but think again of Ivan the Terrible; by whose order +it was built; and how, when the architect (an Italian) +was brought before him, trembling with awe, the mighty +Ivan expressed his approval of the performance, and demanded +if he, the architect, could build another equally +strange and beautiful; to which the poor Italian, elated +with joy, answered that he could build another even +stranger and more beautiful than this; and then how +the ferocious and unprincipled Czar had the poor fellow’s +eyes put out to prevent him from building another.</p> + +<p>But this is not the adventure. I have nothing to do +at present with the Church of St. Basil or Ivan the Terrible +except in so far as they affected my imagination. +The business on hand is to tell you how the dire catastrophe +happened.</p> + +<p>Bewildered at length with gazing at all these wonderful +sights, I turned to retrace my steps to the hotel. A +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[118]</a></span> +few droskies were still plying on the principal thoroughfares, +and now and then I met gay parties trudging +homeward after their night’s dissipation; but I soon +struck into the less frequented streets, where a dreary +silence reigned. There was something very sad and +solitary in the reverberation of my footsteps. For the +first time it occurred to me that there was not much security +here for life, in case of a covert attack from some +of those footpads said to infest the city. I began to reflect +upon the experience of my young American friend, +and regret that it had not occurred to me before I left +the hotel. You may think this very weak and foolish, +good friends, surrounded as you are by all the safeguards +of law and order, and living in a country where +men are never knocked on the head of nights—with occasional +exceptions; but I can assure you it is a very +natural feeling in a strange, half-barbarous city like Moscow, +where one doesn’t understand the language. Had +I been well versed in Russian, the probability is I should +not have felt the least alarmed; but a man experiences a +terrible sensation of loneliness when he expects every +moment to be knocked on the head without being able +to say a word in his own defense. Had my guide, Dominico, +been with me, I should not have felt quite so +helpless—though I never had much confidence in his +courage—for he could at least have demanded an explanation, +or, if the worst came to the worst, helped me +to run away. The fact is—and there is no use attempting +to disguise it—I began to feel a nervous apprehension +that something was going to happen. I was startled +at my own shadow, and was even afraid to whistle with +any view of keeping up my spirits, lest something unusually +florid in my style of whistling might lead to the +supposition that I was from California, and therefore a +good subject for robbery.</p> + +<p>Which, by the way, puts me in mind of a remarkable +fact, well worth mentioning. The State of California +owes me, at the least calculation, two hundred dollars, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[119]</a></span> +paid in sums varying from six kreutzers up to a pound +sterling to hotel-keepers, porters, lackeys, and professional +gentlemen throughout Europe, exclusively on the +ground of my citizenship in that state. In Paris—in +Spain—in Africa—in Germany (with the exceptions of +the beer-houses and country inns), I had to pay a heavy +percentage upon the capital invested in my gold mines +solely on the presumption that no man could come from +so rich a country without carrying off a good deal of +treasure on his person, like the carcass that carried the +diamonds out of the rich valley for Sinbad the Sailor. +Yet I never could forego the pleasure of announcing +myself as an embassador to foreign parts from that noble +state, commissioned by the sovereigns generally to furnish +them with the latest improvements in morals, fashions, +and manners for the public benefit—an extremely +onerous and responsible duty, which I have executed, and +shall continue to execute, with the most rigid fidelity.</p> + +<p>After walking quite far enough to have reached the +hotel, I became confused at the winding of the streets. +The neighborhood was strange. I could not discover +any familiar sign or object. The houses were low, +mean, and dark looking; the street was narrow and +roughly paved. I walked a little farther, then turned +into another street still more obscure, and, following +that for some distance, brought up amid a pile of ruined +walls. There could no longer be a doubt that I had +missed the way, and was not likely to find it in this direction. +It was a very suspicious quarter into which I +had strayed. Every thing about it betokened poverty +and crime. I began to feel rather uneasy, but it would +not do to stand here among the ruins as a mark for any +midnight prowler who might be lurking around. Turning +off in a new direction, I took a by-street, which appeared +to lead to an open space. As I picked my way +over the masses of rubbish, a dark figure crossed in front, +and disappeared in the shadow of a wall. I was entirely +unarmed. What was to be done? Perhaps the man +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[120]</a></span> +might be able to tell me the way to my lodgings; but I +could not speak a word of Russian, as before stated, +and, besides, was rather averse to making acquaintance +with strangers. After a moment’s reflection, I walked +on, cautiously and distrustfully enough, for the notion +was uppermost in my mind that this fellow was not +there for any good purpose. As I passed the spot +where he had disappeared, I looked suspiciously around, +but he did not make his appearance. With a few hasty +strides I readied the open space—a vacant lot, it seemed, +caused by a recent fire. The houses were burnt +down, and nothing but a blackened mass of beams, rafters, +and ashes covered the ground. The only exit was +through a narrow alley. Before entering this, I looked +back and saw the same figure stealthily following me. +On I went as rapidly as I could walk. Closer and closer +came the figure. He was a man of gigantic stature, and +was probably armed. Soon I heard the heavy tramp of +his feet within a few paces. It was evident I must either +run or stand my ground. Perhaps, if I had known what +direction to take, or could have placed more reliance +upon my knees, which were greatly weakened by tea, I +might have chosen the former alternative, inglorious as +it may seem; but, under the circumstances, I resolved to +stand. Facing around suddenly, with my back to the +wall, I called to the ruffian to stand off, as he valued his +life. He halted within a few feet, evidently a little disconcerted +at my sudden determination to make battle. +His face was the most brutal I had over seen; a filthy +mass of beard nearly covered it; two piercing white +eyes glistened beneath the leaf of his greasy cap; a +coarse blouse, gathered around the waist by a leather +belt, and boots that reached nearly to his hips, were the +most striking articles of his costume. For a moment he +gazed at me, as if uncertain what to do; then brushed +slowly past, with the design, no doubt, of ascertaining if +I was armed. I could not see whether he carried any +deadly weapons himself; but a man of his gigantic stature +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[121]</a></span> +needed none to be a very unequal opponent in a +struggle with one whose most sanguinary conflicts had +hitherto been on paper, and who had never wielded a +heavier weapon than a pen.</p> + +<p>Proceeding on his way, however, the ruffian, after going +about a hundred yards, disappeared in some dark recess +in among the houses on one side. I continued on, +taking care to keep in the middle of the alley. As I +approached the spot where the man had disappeared, I +heard several voices, and then the terrible truth flashed +upon me that there must be a gang of them. I now saw +no alternative but to turn back and run for my life. It +was an inglorious thing to do, no doubt, but which of +you, my friends, would not have done the same thing?</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="gambling_saloon" id="gambling_saloon"></a> +<img src="images/thor026.png" width="600" height="476" +alt="Two men look on as two others play a card game" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GAMBLING SALOON.</p> + +<p>Scarcely had I started under full headway when three +or four men rushed out in pursuit. I will not attempt to +disguise the fact that the ground passed under my feet +pretty rapidly; and the probability is, the hostile party +would have been distanced in less than ten minutes but +for an unfortunate accident. It was necessary to cross +the ruins already described. Here, in the recklessness +of my flight, I stumbled over a beam, and fell prostrate +in a pile of ashes. Before I could regain my feet the +ruffians were upon me. While two of them held my +arms, the third clapped his dirty hand over my mouth, +and in this way they dragged me back into the alley. +As soon as they had reached the dark archway from +which they had originally started, they knocked at a +door on one side. This was quickly opened, and I was +thrust into a large room, dimly lighted with rude lamps +of grease hung upon the walls. When they first got +hold of me, I confess the sensation was not pleasant. +What would the Emperor Alexander say when he heard +that a citizen of California had been murdered in this +cold-blooded manner? My next thought was, in what +terms would this sad affair be noticed in the columns of +the Sacramento <i>Union</i>? Would it not be regarded by +the editor as an unprovoked disaster inflicted upon society? +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[123]</a></span> +My fears, however, were somewhat dispelled upon +looking around the saloon into which I had been so +strangely introduced. Several tables were ranged along +the walls, at each of which sat a group of the most horrible-looking +savages that probably ever were seen out of +jail—the very dregs and offscourings of Moscow. Their +faces were mostly covered with coarse, greasy beards, +reaching half way down their bodies; some wore dirty +blue or gray blouses, tied around the waist with ropes, or +fastened with leather belts; others, long blue coats, reaching +nearly to their feet; and all, or nearly all, had caps on +their heads, and great heavy boots reaching up to their +knees, in which their pantaloons were thrust, giving +them a rakish and ruffianly appearance. A few sat in +their shirt-sleeves; and, judging by the color of their +shirts, as well as their skins, did not reckon soap among +the luxuries of life. Several of these savage-looking +Mujiks were smoking some abominable weed, intended, +perhaps, for tobacco, but very much unlike that delightful +narcotic in the foul and tainted odor which it diffused +over the room. They were all filthy and brutish in the +extreme, and talked in some wretched jargon, which, +even to my inexperienced ear, had but little of the gentle +flow of the Russian in it. The tables were dotted +with dice, cards, fragments of black bread, plates of +grease, and cabbage soup, and glasses of vodka and tea; +and the business of gambling, eating, and drinking was +carried on with such earnestness that my entrance attracted +no farther attention than a rude stare from the +nearest group. No wonder they were a little puzzled, +for I was covered with ashes, and must have presented +rather a singular appearance. The three ruffians who +had brought me in closed the door, and motioned me to +a seat at a vacant table. They then called for tea, vodka, +and quass, together with a great dish of raw cucumbers, +which they set to work devouring with amazing +voracity. During a pause in the feast they held a low +conversation with the man who served them, who went +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[124]</a></span> +out and presently returned with a small tea-pot full of +tea and a glass, which he set before me. They motioned +to me, in rather a friendly way, to drink. I was parched +with thirst, and was not sorry to get a draught of any +thing—even the villainous compound the traktir had set +before me; so I drank off a tumblerfull at once. Soon I +began to experience a whirling sensation in the head. A +cold tremor ran through my limbs. Dim and confused +visions of the company rose before me, and a strange +and spectral light seemed shed over the room. The +murmur of voices sounded like rushing waters in my +ears. I gradually lost all power of volition, while my +consciousness remained unimpaired, or, if any thing, became +more acute than ever. The guests, if such they +were, broke up their carousal about this time, and began +to drop off one by one, each bowing profoundly to the +landlord, and crossing himself devoutly, and bowing three +times again before the shrine of the patron saint as he +passed out. It was really marvelous to see some of +these ruffians, so besotted with strong drink that they +were scarcely able to see the way to the door, stagger +up before the burnished shrine, and, steadying themselves +the best they could, gravely and solemnly go +through their devotions.</p> + +<p>But I see you are beginning to yawn, and, notwithstanding +the most exciting part of the adventure is +about to commence, it would be extremely injudicious +in me to force it upon you under circumstances so +disadvantageous to both parties. You will therefore +oblige me by finishing your nap, and, with your permission, +we will proceed with our narrative as soon as it +may be mutually agreeable. In the mean time, I beg +you will regard what I have already told you as strictly +confidential. My reputation, both for veracity and general +good character, is involved in this very extraordinary +affair, and it would be unfair that either the one or +the other should be prejudiced by a partial exposition +of the facts.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[125]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII.</h2> + +<h3>THE DENOUEMENT.</h3> + + +<p>I noticed that the traktir, in settling accounts with +his customers, made use of a peculiar instrument commonly +seen in the shops and market-places throughout +the city. Behind a sort of bar or counter at the head of +the room he kept what is called a <i>schot</i>, upon which he +made his calculations. This is a frame about a foot +square, across which run numerous wires. On each wire +is a string of colored pieces of wood somewhat resembling +billiard-counters, only smaller. The merchant, +trader, traktir, or craftsman engaged in pecuniary transactions +uses this instrument with wonderful dexterity in +making his calculations. He believes it to be the only +thing in the world that will not lie or steal. If you have +purchased to the amount of thirty kopeks, you would +naturally conclude that out of a ruble (one hundred kopeks) +your change would amount to seventy. Not so +the sagacious and wary Russian. He takes nothing for +granted in the way of trade. Your calculations may be +erroneous—figures obtained through the medium of +mental arithmetic may lie, but the schot never. The +experience of a lifetime goes for nothing. He must have +proof positive. Taking his schot between his knees, he +counts off thirty balls out of a hundred. Of course there +is no mistake about that. Neither you nor he can dispute +it. Then he counts the remainder, and finds that +it amounts to seventy—therefore your change is seventy +kopeks! Do you dispute it? Then you can count for +yourself. You might cover pages with written calculations, +or demonstrate the problem by the four cardinal +rules of arithmetic; you might express the numbers by +sticks, stones, beans, or grains of coffee, but it would be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[126]</a></span> +all the same to this astute and cautious calculator—facts +can only reach his understanding through the colored +balls of his beloved schot. I don’t think he would rely +with certainty upon the loose verbal statement that two +and two make four without resorting to the schot for a +verification. But to proceed:</p> + +<p>A few of the guests, too far gone with “little water” +to get up and perform their devotions, rolled over on +the floor and went to sleep. The lights grew dim. A +gloomy silence began to settle over the room, interrupted +only by the occasional grunting or snoring of the +sleepers. The ruffians who sat at the table with me had +been nodding for some time; but, roused by the cessation +of noises, they called to the man of the house, and +in a low voice gave him some orders. He got a light +and opened a small door in a recess at one side of the +room. I was then lifted up by the others and carried +into an adjoining passage, and thence up a narrow stairway. +In a large dingy room overhead I could see by the +flickering rays of the lamp a bed in one corner. It was +not very clean—none of the Russian beds are—but they +laid me in it, nevertheless, for I could offer no remonstrance. +What they had hitherto done was bad enough, +but this capped the climax of outrages. Were the cowardly +villains afraid to murder me, and was this their +plan of getting it done, and at the same time getting rid +of the body? Great heavens! was I to be devoured +piecemeal by a rapacious horde of the wild beasts that are +said to infest the Russian beds! And utterly helpless, +too, without the power to grapple with as much as a +single flea—the least formidable, perhaps, of the entire +gang! It was absolutely fearful to contemplate such an +act of premeditated barbarity; yet what could I do, unable +to speak a word or move a limb.</p> + +<p>I am reminded by this that the Russians derive the +most striking features of their civilization from the +French and Germans. Their fashions, their tailors, their +confectioners, their perfumeries, their barbers, are nearly +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[127]</a></span> +all French or Germans; but their baths are a national +institution, derived originally, perhaps, from the Orientals. +We hear a good deal of Russian baths, especially +from enthusiastic travelers, and are apt to suppose that +where such a thorough system of scrubbing and boiling +prevails, the human cuticle must present a very extraordinary +aspect of cleanliness. Perhaps this is so in +certain cases, but it is not a national characteristic. A +Russian bath, in the genuine style, is rather a costly luxury. +There are, to be sure, in St. Petersburg and Moscow, +public bath-houses for the rabble, where the filthiest +beggar can be boiled out and scrubbed for a few kopeks; +but people who wear a coating of dirt habitually +must become attached to it in the course of time, and +hate very much to dispose of it at any price. At least +there seemed to be a prejudice of this kind in Moscow, +where the affection with which this sort of overlining is +preserved is quite equal to that with which the Germans +adhere to their old household furniture. It may be, perhaps, +that the few summer months which they enjoy are +insufficient for the removal of all the strange things that +accumulate upon the body during the long winters. The +poorer classes seldom remove their furs or change their +clothing till warm weather and the natural wear and tear +of all perishable things cause them to drop off of their +own accord. I have seen on a scorching hot day men +wrapped in long woolen coats, doubled over the breast +and securely fastened around the waist, and great boots, +capacious enough and thick enough for fire-buckets, in +which they were half buried, strolling lazily along in the +sun, as if they absolutely enjoyed its warmth; and yet +these very articles of clothing, with but little addition, +must have borne the piercing winds of midwinter. A +suspicion crossed my mind that they were trying in this +way to bag a little heat for winter use, as the old burghers +of Schilda bagged the light to put in their town hall +because they had no windows. These strange habits +must have something to do with the number of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[128]</a></span> +ferocious little animals—I will not degrade their breed and +variety by calling them, vermin—which infest the rooms +and beds. But the Russian skin is like Russian leather—the +best and toughest in the world. Something in the +climate is good for the production of thick and lasting +cuticles. It is doubtless a wise provision of nature, based +upon the extremes of heat and cold to which these people +are exposed. There is no good reason why animals +with four feet should be more favored in this respect +than bipeds. I doubt if an ordinary Russian would suffer +the slightest inconvenience if a needle were run into +the small of his back. All those physical torments which +disturb thin-skinned people from other countries are no +torments at all to him; and I incline to the opinion that +it is the constant experience he enjoys in a small way +that enables him to endure the wounds received in battle +with such wonderful stoicism. A man can carry a bull +if he only commences when the animal is young. Why +not, on the same principle, accustom himself to being +stabbed every night till he can quietly endure to be run +through with a bayonet? The Russian soldiers possess +wonderful powers of passive endurance. Being stabbed +or cut to pieces is second nature to them—they have +been accustomed to it, in a degree, from early infancy. +Who does not remember how they were hewed and +hacked down in the Crimean War, and yet came to life +again by thousands after they were given up for dead? +Perhaps no other soldiers in the world possess such stoicism +under the inflictions of pain. They stand an enormous +amount of killing; more so, I think, than any other +people, unless it may be the Irish, who, at the battle of +Vinegar Hill, in the rebellion of ’98, were nearly all cut +to pieces and left for dead on the field, but got up in a +day or two after and went at it again as lively as ever. +This, however, was not owing to the same early experience, +but to the healthy blood made of potatoes, with a +slight sprinkling of Irish whisky. In fine, I don’t think +a genuine Muscovite could sleep without a bountiful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[129]</a></span> +supply of vermin to titillate his skin any more than a +miller bereft of the customary noise of his hoppers.</p> + +<p>Which brings me back again to the adventure. On +that filthy bed the ruffians laid me down to be devoured +by the wild beasts by which it was infested. Then they +turned about to a shrine that stood in a corner of the +room, and each one bowed down before it three times +and crossed himself, after which they all left the room +and quietly closed the door behind them. I was penetrated +with horror at the thought of the terrible death +before me, but not so much as to avoid noticing that the +chief furniture of the room consisted of a stove in one +corner, of cylindrical form, made of terra-cotta or burnt +clay, and glazed outside. It was colored in rather a fanciful +way, like queensware, and made a conspicuous appearance, +reaching from the floor to the ceiling. This +was the genuine Russian stove, with which these people +no doubt kept themselves warm during the winter. The +windows are composed of double glasses, and between +the sashes the space is filled with sand to keep out the +air, so that to be hermetically sealed up is one of necessities +of existence in this rigorous climate. While I +was pondering over the marvelous fact that people can +live by breathing so many thousand gallons of air over +and over so many thousand times, a whole legion of +fleas, chinches, and other animals of a still more forbidding +aspect commenced their horrid work, and would +probably soon have made an end of me but for a new +turn in this most extraordinary affair. The door gently +opened. A figure glided in on tiptoe. It was that of a +female, I knew by the grace and elegance of her motions, +even before I could see her face or trace the undulating +outline of her form in the dim light that pervaded +the room. My senses were acutely alive to every movement, +yet I was utterly unable to move, owing to the infernal +drug with which they had dosed me. The woman, +or rather girl—for she could not have been over +eighteen or nineteen—cautiously approached the bed, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[130]</a></span> +with her finger to her lips, as if warning me not to speak. +She was very beautiful—I was not insensible to that fact. +Her features were wonderfully aristocratic for one in her +position, and there was something in the expression of +her dark, gleaming eyes peculiarly earnest and pathetic. +Her hair was tossed wildly and carelessly back over her +shoulders—she had evidently just risen from bed, for +her costume consisted of nothing more than a loose night-wrapper, +which fell in graceful folds around her limbs, +revealing to great advantage the exquisite symmetry of +her form. I was certain she did not belong to the house. +Approaching timidly, yet with a certain air of determination, +she bent down and gazed a moment in my face, +and then hurriedly whispered in French, “Now is the +time—let us escape! They lie sleeping by the door. A +servant whom I bribed has disclosed the fact of your +capture to me; I also am a prisoner in this horrid den. +Will you save me? Oh, will you fly with me?” Of +course, being unable to move a muscle, except those of +my eyes, I could not open my mouth to utter a word in +reply. The unhappy young woman looked profoundly +distressed that I should thus gaze at her in silence. “Oh, +what am I to do? Who will save me?” she cried, wringing +her hands in the deepest anguish: “I have not a +friend upon earth!” Then, clasping me by the hand, she +looked in my face appealingly, and said, “Monsieur, I +know you are a Frenchman. I see it in the chivalrous +lines of your countenance. Ah! have pity on a friendless +young girl, and do not gaze at her with such chilling +indifference. I also am French. These wretches +have waylaid and imprisoned me, and they hope to obtain +a ransom by my detention. My friends are ignorant +of my miserable fate. What can I do, monsieur, unless +you assist me?”</p> + +<p>Utterly helpless—drugged—yet perfectly conscious of +all the lovely creature was saying, I was truly in a most +deplorable situation. Again and again she begged me, +if there was a spark of French chivalry left in my nature, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[131]</a></span> +not to respond to her appeals by such a look of unutterable +disdain. She was thrillingly beautiful; and beauty in +tears is enough to melt the hardest heart that ever was +put in the breast of man. I could feel her balmy breath +upon my face, and the warmth of her delicate hand in +mine, as she struggled to arouse me; and I declare it is +my honest conviction that, had I been simply a corpse, +life would have come back to my assistance; but this diabolical +drug possessed some extraordinary power against +which not even the fascinations of beauty could successfully +contend. Under other circumstances, indeed, there +is no telling—but why talk of other circumstances? +There I lay like a log, completely paralyzed from head +to foot. At length, unable to elicit an answer, a flush +of mingled indignation and scorn illuminated her beautiful +features, and, drawing herself back with a haughty +air, she said, “If this be the boasted chivalry of my +countrymen, then the sooner it meets with a merited reward +the better. Allow me to say, monsieur, that while +I admire your prudence, I scorn the spirit that prompts +it!” and, with a glance of fierce disdain, she swept with +queenly strides out of the room. A moment after I +heard some voices in the passage, and scarcely five minutes +had elapsed before the door was opened again. To +my horror I saw the ruffian who had first followed me +enter stealthily with a darkened lantern, and approach +toward my bed. He carried in his right hand a heavy +bar of iron. Stopping a moment opposite a shrine on +one side of the room, he laid down his lamp and bar, +and, bowing down three times, crossed himself devoutly, +and then proceeded to accomplish his fiendish work. No +conception can be formed of the agony with which I now +regarded my fate. Crouching low as he approached, the +wretch soon reached my bedside, peered a moment into +my face with his hideous white eyes, laid down the lamp, +then grasped the bar of iron firmly in both hands, and +raised himself up to his full height. I made a desperate +effort to cry out for help. My voice was utterly gone. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[132]</a></span> +I could not even move my lips. But why prolong the +dreadful scene? One more glance with the fierce white +eyes, a deep grating malediction, and the ruffian braced +himself for his deadly job. He tightened his grip upon +the bar, swung it high over his head, and with one fell +blow—<small>DASHED MY BRAINS OUT</small>!!</p> + +<hr style="width: 30%;" /> + +<p>Don’t believe it, eh?</p> + +<p>Well, sir, you would insist upon my telling you the +adventure, and now I stand by it! If it be your deliberate +opinion that my statement is not to be relied upon, +nothing remains between us but to arrange the preliminaries. +I have no disposition to deprive my publishers +of a valuable contributor, or society of an ornament; but, +sir, the great principles of truth must be maintained. As +it will not be convenient for me to attend to this matter +in person, you will be pleased to select any friend of +mine in California who may desire to stand up for my +honor; place him before you at the usual distance of ten +paces; then name any friend of yours at present in Europe +as a similar substitute for yourself—the principals +only to use pistols—notify me by the Icelandic telegraph +when you are ready, and then, upon return of signal, pop +away at my friend. But, since it is not my wish to proceed +to such an extremity unnecessarily, if you will admit +that I may possibly have been deceived—that there may +have been some hallucination about the adventure—that +strong tea and nervous excitement may have had something +to do with it, then, sir, I am willing to leave the +matter open to future negotiation.</p> + +<p>It is true I found myself in my room at the <i>Hotel de +Venise</i> when I recovered from the stunning effects of the +blow; also, that the door was locked on the inside; but +I am by no means prepared to give up the point on such +flimsy evidence as that. Should the physiological fact +be developed in the course of these sketches that there +is still any portion of the brain left, and that it performs +its legitimate functions, of course I shall be forced to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[133]</a></span> +admit that the case is at least doubtful; yet even then it +can not be regarded in the light of a pure fabrication. +Has not Dickens given us, in his “Dreams of Venice,” +the most vivid and truthful description of the City of the +Sea ever written; and what have I done, at the worst, +but try in my humble way to give you a general idea of +Moscow in the pleasing form of a midnight adventure, +ending in an assassination? You have seen the Kremlin +and the Church of St. Basil, and the by-streets and alleys, +and the interior of a low traktir, and the cats, and the +Russian beds, and many other interesting features of +this wonderful city, in a striking and peculiar point of +view, and I hold that you have no right to complain because, +like Louis Philippe, I sacrificed my crown for the +benefit of my subject. Besides, has not my friend Bayard +Taylor given to the world his wonderful experiences +of the Hasheesh of Damascus; his varied and extraordinary +hallucinations of intellect during the progress of its +operations? And why should not I my humble experiences +of the tchai of Moscow?</p> + +<p><i>Reader.</i> Slightly sprinkled with <i>vodka</i>, or “the little +water.”</p> + +<p>Oh, that was just thrown in to give additional effect +to the tea!</p> + +<p><i>Reader.</i> It won’t do, sir—it won’t do! The deception +was too transparent throughout.</p> + +<p>Well, then, since you saw through it from the beginning, +there is no harm done, and you can readily afford +to make an apology for impugning my voracity.</p> + +<p><i>Lady Reader.</i> But who was the heroine? What became +of her?</p> + +<p>Ah! my dear madam, there you have me! I suspect +she was a French countess, or more likely an actress engaged +in the line of tragedy. Her style, at all events, +was tragical.</p> + +<p><i>Lady Reader</i> (elevating her lovely eyebrows superciliously). +She was rather demonstrative, it must be admitted. +You brought her in apparently to fulfill your promise, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[134]</a></span> +but sent her off the stage very suddenly. You +should, at least, have restored her to her friends, and +not left her in that den of robbers.</p> + +<p>That, dear madam, was my natural inclination; but +the fact is, d’ye see, I was drugged—</p> + +<p><i>Lady Reader</i> (sarcastically). It won’t do, Mr. Butterfield—your +heroine was a failure! In future you had +better confine yourself to facts—or fresh water.</p> + +<p>Madam, I’d confine myself to the Rock of Gibraltar +or an iceberg to oblige you; therefore, with your permission, +I shall proceed to give you, in my next, a reliable +description of the Kremlin.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV.</h2> + +<h3>THE KREMLIN.</h3> + + +<p>Not the least of the evils resulting from this harum-scarum +way of traveling and writing is the fact that +one’s impressions become sadly tumbled together and +very soon lose their most salient failures. To be whirled +about the world by land and sea, as I have been for +the last year, is enough to turn one’s brain into a curiosity +shop. When I undertake to pick out of the pile of +rubbish some picture that must have been originally +worth a great deal of money, I find it so disfigured by +the sheer force of friction that it looks no better than an +old daub. The pity of it is, too, that the very best of +my gatherings are apt to get lost or ruined; and sometimes +it happens that when I varnish up what appears to +be valuable it turns out not a groat. Want of method +would ruin a Zingalee gipsy or a Bedouin Arab. No +doubt you have already discovered to your sorrow that +when we start on a visit to the Kremlin, it is no sure indication +that we will not spend the day in the Riadi or +the old-clothes market. If either you or I ever reach +our destination, it will be by the sheerest accident. And +yet one might as well undertake to see Rome without +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[135]</a></span> +the Capitoline Hill, or Athena without the Acropolis, as +Moscow without the Kremlin. We have had several +glimpses of it, to be sure, in the course of our rambles, +but you must admit that they were very vague and indefinite—especially +the last, when, if you remember, we +were laboring under some strange mental hallucination.</p> + +<p>The Kremlin has been fully described by many learned +and accomplished travelers. Coxe, Atkinson, Kohl, and +various others, have given elaborate accounts of it; yet +why despair of presenting, in a homely way, some general +idea of it, such as one might gather in the course of +an afternoon’s ramble? After reading all we find about +it in books of travel, our conceptions are still vague and +unsatisfactory. Probably the reason is, that minute details +of history and architecture afford one but a very +faint and inadequate idea of the appearance of any place. +Like the pictures of old Dennen, they may give you every +wrinkle with the accuracy of a daguerreotype, but +they fail in the general effect, or resemble the corpse of +the subject rather than the living reality. I must confess +that all I had read on Russia previous to my visit +afforded me a much less vivid idea of the actual appearance +of the country, the people, or the principal cities, +than the rough crayon sketches of Timm and Mitreuter, +which I had seen in the shop windows of Paris. This +may not be the fault of the writers, who, of course, are +not bound to furnish their own eyes or their own understanding +to other people, but it seems to me that elaborate +detail is inimical to strong general impressions. I would +not give two hours’ personal observation of any place +or city in the world for a hundred volumes of the best +books of travel ever written upon it; and next to that +comes the conversation of a friend who possesses, even +in an ordinary degree, the faculty of conveying to another +his own impressions. A word, a hint, a gesture, +or some grotesque comparison, may give you a more +vivid picture of the reality than you can obtain by a +year’s study. Now, if you will just consider me that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[136]</a></span> +friend, and resign yourself in a genial and confiding spirit +to the trouble of listening; if you will fancy that I +mean a great deal more than I say, and could be very +learned and eloquent if I chose; if you will take it for +granted that what you don’t see is there nevertheless, +the Kremlin will sooner or later loom out of the fogs of +romance and mystery that surround it, and stand before +you, with its embattled walls and towers, as it stood before +me in the blaze of the noonday sun, when Dominico, +the melancholy guide, led the way to the Holy Gate. +You will then discover that the reality is quite wonderful +enough in its natural aspect, without the colored spectacles +of fancy or the rigid asperities of photographic +detail to give it effect.</p> + +<p>Like many of the old cities of Europe, Moscow probably +had its origin in the nucleus of a citadel built upon +the highest point, and commanding an extensive sweep +of the neighborhood. Around this houses gathered by +degrees for protection against the invasions of the hostile +tribes that roamed through Russia at an early period +of its history. The first object of the Kremlin was +doubtless to form a military strong-hold. It was originally +constructed of wood, with ramparts thrown up +around it for purposes of defense, but, in common with +the rest of Moscow, was destroyed by the Tartars in the +fourteenth century. Under the reign of Dimitri it was +rebuilt of stone, and strongly fortified with walls and +ditches, since which period it has sustained, without any +great injury, the assaults of war, the ravages of fire, and +the wear and tear of time. Kief and Vladimir, prior to +that reign, had each served in turn as the capital of the +empire. After the removal of the capital to Moscow, +that city was besieged and ravaged by Tamerlane, and +suffered from time to time during every succeeding century +all the horrors of war, fire, pestilence, and famine, +till 1812, when it was laid in ashes by the Russians +themselves, who by this great national sacrifice secured +the destruction of the French army under Napoleon.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[137]</a></span> +During the almost perpetual wars by which Moscow +was assailed for a period of four centuries, the Kremlin +seems to have borne almost a charmed existence. With +the exception of the Grand Palace, the Bolshoi Drovetz, +built by the Emperor Alexander I., and the Maloi +Drovetz, or Little Palace, built by the Emperor Nicholas, +and the Arsenal, it has undergone but little change +since the time of the early Czars. In 1812, when the +French, after despoiling it of whatever they could lay +their hands upon, attempted, in the rage of disappointment, +to blow up the walls, the powder, as the Russians +confidently assert, was possessed by the devil of water, +and refused to explode; and when they planted a heavily-loaded +cannon before the Holy Gate, and built a fire +on top of the touch-hole to make it go off, it went off at +the breech, and blew a number of Frenchmen into the +infernal regions, after which the remainder of them +thought it best to let it alone.</p> + +<p>The Kremlin, as it now stands, is a large collection of +palaces, public buildings, and churches, situated on the +crown of a high bank or eminence on the left side of the +Moskwa River, nearly in the centre of the city. It is +surrounded by a high embattled wall, forming something +of a triangle, about a mile in circumference, through +which are several massive gateways. This wall is very +strongly constructed of stone, and is about twenty-five +or thirty feet in height. It forms many irregular sub-angles, +and is diversified in effect by numerous towers, +with green pyramidal roofs; abutments and buttresses; +and a series of guard-houses at intervals along the top. +The general color is white, making rather a striking contrast +with the green-roofed towers, and the gilded domes +and many-colored cupolas of the interior churches. Outside +of this wall, on the upper side of the main angle, are +some very pleasant gardens, handsomely laid out, with +fine shady walks, in which many of the citizens spend +their summer evenings, strolling about, enjoying the +fresh air. Other parts of the exterior spaces are devoted +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[138]</a></span> +to drosky stands, markets, and large vacant spaces +for public gatherings on festa days and great occasions +of military display. From every point streets diverge +irregularly, winding outward till they intersect the inner +and outer boulevards. These boulevards are large circular +thoroughfares, crossing the Moskwa River above +and below. They are well planted with trees, and have +spacious sidewalks on each side; but, unlike the boulevards +of Paris, are only dotted at irregular intervals +with houses. To the eastward lies the Katai Gorod, or +Chinese City, and to the westward the Beloi Gorod, or +White City.</p> + +<p>Isolated in a great measure from the various quarters +of the city, Russian and Tartaric, by the gardens, the +large open spaces, the markets, and the river, the Kremlin +looms up high over all in solitary grandeur—a mass +of churches, palaces, and fortifications, surmounted by +the tower of Ivan Veliki, which stands out in bold octagonal +relief against the one with its numerous bells +swung in the openings of the different stages, thundering +forth the hours of the day, or tolling a grand chorus +to the chanting of innumerable priests in the churches +below. Approaching the Spass Vorota, or Gate of the +Redeemer, through which none can enter save with uncovered +heads—such is the veneration in which this +Holy Gate is held by all classes—we witness a strange +and impressive spectacle. Over this wonderful gate, incased +in a frame covered with glass, stands the holiest +of all the pictured relics of this sacred place, a painted +figure of the Savior, emblazoned with gilding, and with +a lamp swung in front, which burns night and day, as it +has burnt since the days of Ivan the Terrible. Before +this sacred image all true believers bow down and worship. +While the great bells of the tower are booming +out their grand and solemn strains, it is a profoundly +impressive spectacle to witness the crowds that gather +before this holy shrine, and bend themselves to the earth—the +rich and the poor, the decorated noble and the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[139]</a></span> +ragged beggar—all alike glowing with an all-pervading +zeal; no pretense about it, but an intense, eager, almost +frantic devotion. Many a poor cripple casts his crutches +aside, and prostrates himself on the paved stoneway, in +the abandonment of his pious enthusiasm. Men and +women, old and young, kneel on the open highway, and +implore the intercession of the Redeemer. From the +highest officer of state to the lowest criminal, it is all the +same. The whole crowd are bowing down in abject humiliation, +all muttering in earnest tones some prayer or +appeal for their future salvation. And now, as we enter +the gate, the stranger, whatever may be his persuasion +or condition, whether a true believer or a heretic of high +or low degree, must join in the general torrent of veneration +so far as to uncover his head as he walks beneath +that sacred portal; for, as I said before, none can pass +through the Spass Vorota without this token of respect +for its sacred character. The greatest of the Czars have +done it through a series of centuries. The conqueror of +Kazan, Astrakan, and Siberia has here bared his imperial +head; Romanoff, Peter the Great, even the voluptuous +Catharine, have here done reverence to this holy portal; +and all the later sovereigns of Russia, Alexander I., Nicholas, +and Alexander II., ere they received their kingly +crowns, have passed bareheaded through the Spass Vorota. +Need we hesitate, then, profane scoffers as we +may be, when such precedents lie before us? Apart +from the fact that I always found it convenient to do +in Rome as the Romans do, and in Moscow to conform +as far as practicable to the customs of the Moscovites, I +really have no prejudice on any subject connected with +the religious observances of other people. In pleasant +weather I would walk a mile bareheaded to oblige any +man who conscientiously thought it would do him the +least good; more especially in a case like this, where, if +one fails to doff his shlapa, a soldier stands ready to remind +his “brother” or “little friend,” or possibly “little +father,” that he (the brother, little friend, or little father) +has forgotten his “beaver.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[140]</a></span> +We have now, thanks to Dominico, who has touched +us up on all these points, gotten safely and becomingly +through the Holy Gate without committing the sin of +irreverence toward any of the saints, living or dead. +We have passed through a high archway, about twenty +paces in length, roughly paved with stones, and now +put on our hat again as we ascend the sloping way that +leads to the grand esplanade in front of the palaces and +churches. This is a broad paved space, walled on the +outer edge, forming a grand promenade overlooking the +Moskwa River, and from which a magnificent view is +had of the lower city, that sweeps over the valley of the +south. Standing here, we have a grand <i>coup d’œil</i> of +the river above and below, its bridges covered with +moving crowds, its barges and wood-boats, and many-colored +bath-houses, glittering in the sun; farther off, a +dazzling wilderness of the innumerable churches of the +lower city, with their green, yellow, red, and gilded cupolas +and domes; still beyond, the trees and shrubberies +of the outer boulevards; to the left, the great Foundling +Asylum, fronting on the river, with its vast gardens in +the rear; to the right, the Military Hospital, the Barracks, +and, far in the distance, over the gleaming waters +of the river, the Sparrow Hills, from which Napoleon +caught the first glimpse of Moscow; and then the grand +Convent of the Douskoi, within the outer wall, near the +Kalonga Road; from which, sweeping over toward the +right, once more we catch a glimpse of the wooded +shade of the Race-course, the Hospital of St. Paul, and +the Convent of St. Daniel; and to the left, beyond the +outer wall, of various grand convents and fortifications, +till the eye is no longer able to encompass all the wondrous +and varied features of the scene. Turning now +toward the north, after we have feasted upon this brilliant +and glittering series of views, each one of which +we might linger over for hours with increased delight, +we stand facing the principal palaces and churches of +the Kremlin—the Terema, containing the audience +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[141]</a></span> +chambers, and the Granovitaya Palata, the coronation +halls of the Czars; the new palaces; the Cathedral of +the Assumption; the tower of Ivan Veliki; the Treasury +and Arsenal; with innumerable glimpses of other +and scarcely less prominent buildings, which unite in +forming this wonderful maze of sacred and royal edifices. +It would be very difficult, if at all practicable, to convey +by mere verbal description a correct and comprehensive +idea of the strange mingling of architectural styles here +prevailing. The churches present, no doubt, the most +picturesque effects, but this is not owing to any grandeur +in their proportions. None of them are either very +large or very high; but they are singularly varied in +form, as if thrown together in bunches, without regard +to order; some with Gothic gables, some round, some +acutely angular, and all very rudely and roughly constructed, +even the perpendicular lines being irregular. +The walls are whitewashed, and in many places stained +with age. The roofs are for the most part of earthen +tiles, imburnt with strong prismatic colors, and shining +like the inner surfaces of abalone shells. The domes +are white, green, red, and yellow, and each church has a +number of gilded or striped cupolas, rising irregularly +from the roofs, shaped like bunches of globular cactus, +such as one sees on the hill-sides of San Diego. If the +comparison were not a little disparaging to their picturesque +beauty, I should say that some of the cupolas—especially +those of a golden cast—reminded me of mammoth +pumpkins perched on the top of a Mexican Mission-house, +for even the buildings themselves have something +of a rude Mexican aspect about them. The new +palace of the Bolshoi Dvoretz, built by the Emperor Alexander +over a portion of the site of the old Tartar palace, +is a large, square, uninteresting building, with nothing +beyond its vast extent and grand façade to recommend +it. The Terema and the Granovitaya Palata—both +remains of the old Tartar palace—are highly ornamented +with trellised work, and are interesting as well +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[142]</a></span> +from their style of architecture as their contents. It +was from the terraced roof of the Terema that Napoleon +took his first grand view of the city of Moscow, after +entering the gates of the Kremlin. The one contains a +fine collection of curiosities, including various portraits +of the Czars; the other the royal chamber, magnificently +decorated with embroidered velvet hangings, candelabras, +frescoes, gildings, and carved eagles bearing thunderbolts, +and the great chair of state, in which the emperors +sit enthroned to receive the homage of their vassals +after the imposing ceremony of the coronation. But +it would be an endless task to undertake an account of +even a day’s ramble through the interior of these vast +palaces and public buildings. I paid five rubles for tickets +and fees to porters, and, with the aid of Dominico’s +enlightened conversation, came out after my grand tour +of exploration perfectly bewildered with jeweled crowns, +imperial thrones, gilded bedsteads, slippery floors, liveried +servants, stuffed horses, old guns, swords, and pistols, +glassware and brassware, emeralds and other precious +stones, and altogether disgusted with the childish gimcrackery +of royalty. Great Alexander, I thought to myself, +who would be a Czar of Russia, and have to make +his living at the expense of all this sort of tom-foolery? +Who would abide even for a day in a bazar of curiosity-shops, +bothered out of his wits by servants and soldiers, +and the flare and glitter of jewelry? It certainly all +looked very shallow and troublesome to a plain man, +destitute by nature of kingly aspirations. To confess +the truth, I was utterly unable to appreciate any thing +but the absurdity of these things. I can not discover +much difference, save in degree, between barbaric show +on the part of savages and on that of civilized people. +For what, after all, do these coronation halls and gewgaws +amount to? Who is truly king upon earth, when +there is “an everlasting King at whose breath the earth +shall tremble?”</p> + +<p>Strange, indeed, and not calculated to exalt one’s +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[143]</a></span> +impression of royalty, is the fact that, after purchasing a +ticket to see all these relics of the great Czars of Russia, +a horde of officers, servants, and lackeys, in imperial livery, +must be feed at every turn. It is a perfect system +of plunder from beginning to end. At the door of the +new palace I was stopped by some functionary in white +stockings, polished slippers, plush breeches and plush +coat, actually blazing with golden embroidery; his head +brushed and oiled to the intensest limits of foppery, and +his hands adorned with white kid gloves, who refused +to permit me to enter until he had arranged some infernal +compact of pay with my guide, Dominico. After +showing me through the grand chambers, pointing out +the beds, bed-quilts, writing-desks, chairs, and wash-basins +of the Czars, he finished up his half hour’s labor by +making a profound bow and holding out his hand, beggar +fashion, for his fee. I gave him half a ruble (about +87½ cents), at which his countenance assumed an expression +of extreme pity and contempt. Dominico had informed +him that I was a stranger from California, which +had the effect of eliciting from him various passages of +exceeding politeness up to that moment. But he now +came out in his true colors, and demanded haughtily, +“Was this the pitiful sum what the gentleman intended as a +recompense for his services?” Dominico shrugged his +shoulders. The liveried gentleman became excited and +insolent—assuring me, through the guide, that no stranger +of any pretensions to gentility ever offered him less +than a ruble. I must confess I was a little nettled at +the fellow’s manner, and directed Dominico to tell him +that, having no pretensions to gentility, I must close my +acquaintance with him, and therefore bid him good-morning. +There never was an instance in which I disappointed +any beggar with so much good will. I have no doubt, +if he has read any thing of California, he labors under +the impression that I am an escaped convict from San +Quentin.</p> + +<p>O most potent Alexander, Czar of all the Russias, is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[144]</a></span> +this the only way you have of paying your servants? +Do you thus make a raree-show of the palace of your +forefathers, and require every man who enters it for the +purpose of enlightening his benighted understanding to +pay your imperial lackeys the sum of three bits? Is it +not enough that your soldiers and retainers should hawk +old clothes through the markets of the Riadi for a decent +living, without making a small speculation out of +the beds and wash-stands in which your noble fathers +slept and (possibly) washed their faces?</p> + +<p>One of the most remarkable objects of interest within +the walls of the Kremlin is the Tzar Kolokol, or King of +Bells, cast in 1730 by order of the Empress Anne, and +said to be not only the largest bell, but the largest metal +casting in existence. This wonderful bell is formed +chiefly of contributions of precious metals, bestowed as +religious offerings by the people from all parts of the +Russian empire. Spoons, plates, coins, and trinkets were +thrown by the devout inhabitants into the melting mass, +and thus, each having a share in it, the monarch bell is +regarded with feelings of peculiar affection and veneration +throughout Russia. Writers differ as to its original +use and location, some contending that it was first +hung in a tower, which was destroyed by fire in 1737, +and that the large fragment was broken out of it in the +fall, which is now exhibited by the side of the bell; others +that it never was hung at all, but that this fragment +resulted from a failure in the casting. Be that as it may, +it was all dug out of the ground in 1837, and placed in +its present position on a pedestal of granite, close by the +tower of Ivan Veliki.</p> + +<p>Standing in an open space, where the eye necessarily +takes in many larger objects, including the great tower, +but a very inadequate idea can be formed of the extraordinary +dimensions of this bell. Cast in the usual form, +its appearance at the distance of fifty or a hundred yards +is not at all striking; but when you draw near and compare +the height of the groups of figures usually gathered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[145]</a></span> +around it with that of the bell, it is easy to form some +conception of its gigantic proportions. The fragment +placed upright against the granite pedestal looks at a +little distance scarcely three feet high, but as you approach +you perceive that it is at least six. The bell itself +is twenty-one feet three inches high, by twenty-two +feet five inches in diameter, and varies from three feet +to three inches in thickness. Underneath this immense +metallic canopy is a chapel, in which is a shrine at which +many thousands of the Russians every year offer up +their devotions. The entrance to this is through an iron +gateway, and the visitor descends several stone steps +before he stands upon the paved floor of the chapel. +Looking upward and around him, he then for the first +time realizes the vast magnitude of this wonderful casting. +It is almost impossible to conceive that such a +prodigious body of metal was ever at one time a molten +mass, seething over vast furnaces. Imagine a circular +room more than twenty feet in diameter, and of proportionate +height, and you have some faint idea of the interior +of the Tzar Kolokol. It is said that it required +ten strong men to draw the clapper from the centre to +the inner rim, by means of ropes, so as to produce the +ordinary sounds of which the bell was capable. This I +can very well credit; for the great bell of the Ivan +Tower, not a third of the size of this, has an iron tongue +which requires the strength of three men to strike +against the rim. The tremendous depth and volume of +the tones sent forth for many leagues around by the +monarch bell must have been sublime beyond conception, +judging by this single fact, that while in Moscow, +the largest bell I heard sounded was far inferior in size +and weight to that of the Ivan Tower, which is rung +only on state occasions, yet the sounds were so deep +and powerful that they produced a reverberation in the +air resembling the distant roar of thunder, mingled with +the wailing of the winds in a storm. When all the bells +of the tower, save the largest, were tolled together, the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[146]</a></span> +effect was absolutely sublime, surpassing in the grandeur +and majesty of their harmony any thing I had ever heard +produced through human agency. Judge, then, what +must have been the effect when the Tzar Kolokol rolled +forth a jubilee or a death-knell from his iron tongue!</p> + +<p>I do not wonder that the Russians regard this bell +with such peculiar feelings of reverence. There is something +to arouse the most profound and reverential emotions +of our nature in the simple, grand, and mysterious +melody of all great bells—something of the infinite that +exalts our thoughts and aspirations from the earth. In +my recollections of travel I have few purer or more endearing +pleasures than the impressions produced by +sounds like these. Often the grand old strains of the +bells of Lima, Mexico, and Spain seem still to linger on +my ear, and I never dream the wild and varied dream +of my travels over without feeling that these mysterious +voices from many lands have not spoken without a +meaning, that “Life, with all its dreams, shall be but as +the passing bell.”</p> + +<p>From the Tzar Kolokol I took my way, under the +guidance of Dominico, to the tower of Ivan Veliki, which +we ascended by the winding stairway of stone. The +view from the top of this tower is incomparably the +finest to be had from any point within the limits of Moscow. +Here, outspread before us in one vast circle, lay +the whole wondrous city of the Tzars—a perfect sea of +green roofs, dotted over with innumerable spires and +cupolas. The predominant features are Asiatic, though +in the quarter to the west, called the Beloi Gorod, or +White City, are the evidences of a more advanced civilization. +Apart from the churches, which give the city +its chief interest and most picturesque effect, the public +buildings, such as the theatres, hospitals, military barracks, +colleges, and riding-school possess no great attractions +in point of architectural display, and add but little +to the scenic beauties of the view. In gazing over this +bewildering maze of habitations and temples of worship, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[147]</a></span> +I was again strongly impressed with some two or three +leading characteristics, which, being directly opposed to +the idea I had formed of Moscow before seeing it, may +be worthy of repetition. The general colors of the +buildings, roofs, and churches are light, gay, and sparkling, +so that the whole, taken in one sweep of the eye, +presents an exceedingly brilliant appearance, more like +some well-contrived and highly-wrought optical illusions +in a theatre—such, for example, as the fairy scenery of +the “Prophete”—than any thing I can now remember. +The vast extent of the city, compared with its population +(the circuit of its outer wall being twenty miles, +while the population is but little over 300,000), is another +characteristic feature; but this is in some measure accounted +for by the great average of small houses, the +amount of ground occupied by the Kremlin, the inner +and outer boulevards, and the suburbs within the outer +wall, the number of gardens and vacant lots, and the +large spaces occupied by the ploschads or public squares.</p> + +<p>Looking beyond the city and its immediate suburbs, +a series of undulating plains lies outstretched toward +the eastward and southward, while toward the northward +and westward the horizon is bounded by low pine-covered +hills and occasional forests of birch. No high +mountains or abrupt outlines are any where visible—all +is broad and sweeping, conveying some premonition of +the vastness of the steppes that divide this region from +the Ural Mountains. Waving fields of grain, pastures +of almost boundless extent, and solitary farm-houses lie +dim in the distance, while in the immediate vicinity of +the city cultivation has been carried to considerable perfection, +and the villas and estates of the nobility present +something more of the appearance of civilization than +perhaps any thing of a similar kind to be seen in Russia. +Contrasted with the country around St. Petersburg, and +the desert of scrubby pines and marshes lying for a distance +of nearly five hundred miles along the line of the +railway between the two great cities, the neighborhood +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[148]</a></span> +of Moscow is wonderfully rich in rural and pastoral +beauties. Viewing it in connection with the city from +the tower of Ivan Veliki, I certainly derived the most +exquisite sensations of pleasure from the novelty, extent, +and variety of the whole scene. Yet, calmly and peacefully +as it now slumbers in the genial sunshine of a summer’s +afternoon, what visions it conjures up of bloodshed +and rapine, plague, pestilence, and famine, and of +all the calamities wrought by human hands, and all the +appalling visitations of a divine power by which this ill-fated +spot has been afflicted. Looking back through +the wide waste of years, the mighty hosts of Tamerlane +uprise before us, pouring through the passes of the Ural, +and sweeping over the plains with their glittering and +bloodstained crests like demons of destruction carrying +death and desolation before them. Then the giant +Czars, half saints, half devils, loom through the flames +of the ill-fated city, with their myriads of fierce and defiant +warriors stemming the torrent of invasion with the +bodies of the dying and the dead. Then are the streets +choked with blackened ruins and putrid masses, and the +days of sorrow and wailing come, when the living are +unable to bury the dead. Again, a great famine has +come upon the city after the days of its early tribulations +have passed away, and strong men, driven to desperation +by the pangs of hunger, slay their wives and +children, and feed upon the dead bodies, and mothers +devour the sucking babes in their arms; and horror +grows upon horror, till, amid the slaughter, ruin, and +madness wrought by this unparalleled calamity, a hundred +thousand corpses lie rotting in the streets in a single +day, and the city is decimated of its inhabitants! +The scene changes again. Centuries roll on; a dreary +day has come, when the foreign invader once more holds +possession of the citadel. With the prize in his hands, +fires burst from every roof in every quarter. Three +hundred thousand of the inhabitants have fled; a wind +arises and fans the devouring flame; churches and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[149]</a></span> +houses, temples and palaces, are wrapped in its relentless +embraces; the convicts and the rabble run like demons +through the streets, drunk with wine and reveling +in excesses; soldiers, slaves, and prostitutes pillage the +burning ruins, all wild and mad with the unholy lust of +gain. Soon nothing is left but blackened and smoking +masses, the ruins of palaces, temples, and hospitals, and +the seared and mutilated corpses of the dead who have +been crushed by the falling walls or burnt in the flames. +Then the invading hosts, stricken with dismay, fly from +this fated and ill-starred city to darken the snows of +Lithuania with their bodies; and of five hundred thousand +men—the flower of French chivalry—but forty +thousand cross the Beresina to tell the tale! Surely +Moscow, like Jerusalem, hath “wept sore in the night.”</p> + +<p>While lounging about through the gilded and glittering +mazes of the Uspenski Saber, almost wearied by the +perpetual glare of burnished shrines, my attention was +attracted by a curious yet characteristic ceremony within +these sacred precincts. In a gold-cased frame, placed +in a horizontal position in one of the alcoves or small +chapels, was a picture of a saint whose cheeks and robes +were resplendent with gaudy colors. This must have +been St. Nicholas or some other popular personage belonging +to the holy phalanx. His mouth was very nearly +obliterated by the labial caresses of the worshipers +who came there to bestow upon him their devotions. A +stone step, raised about a foot from the flagged pavement, +was nearly worn through by the knees of the penitents, +who were forever dropping down to snatch a kiss +from his sacred lips—or at least what was left of them, +for his mouth was now little more than a dirty blotch, +without the semblance of its original outline. While +pondering over the marvelous ways in which men strive +to cast off the burden of their sins, I observed a very +graceful and elegantly-dressed female approach, and with +an air of profound humility kneel in the accustomed place. +As she drew back her veil she displayed a remarkably +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[150]</a></span> +pretty face, and there was something quite enchanting +in the coquetry with which she ignored the presence of +a stranger. Of course she could have had no idea that +any person of the opposite sex would dare to think of +female loveliness in such a place, and the charming unconsciousness +of her manner, as she adjusted the folds of +her dress, and revealed the exquisitely rounded contour +of her form, was the very best proof of that fact. A perfect +withdrawal of self from the world and all its vanities +was her ruling expression. Thrice did this lovely creature +gracefully incline her head and kiss the blotched +countenance of that inanimate saint. Ah me! what a +luxury it must be to be a saint! What a lucky fellow +is St. Nicholas, to be kissed by such honeyed and pouting +lips as these! Chaste and pious kisses they may be, but, +notwithstanding that, it must be very hard to keep cool, +under the circumstances. Who would not suffer a life +of martyrdom, and be turned into a picture or an image +on such terms? Surely this bewitching damsel must +have committed some dreadful sin to be thus soliciting +the saintly intercession of a little picture with a dirty +mouth! Perhaps she had recently suffered her own delectable +lips to be pressed by the bearded mouth-piece +of some tender and persuasive lover, and now sought to +make atonement by kissing St. Nicholas! By all the +powers of beauty, I’ll forswear sack, Dominico, and try—ha! +here comes a devotee of another sort. Let us +wait a while. For, as I live, it is a great puncheon of a +woman, weighing over three hundred pounds—puffing +and steaming as she waddles toward the shrine—a perfect +Falstaff in petticoats. Shade of Venus! what a face +and figure! Carbuncled with wine, and bloated with +quass and cabbage soup, I’ll bet my head, Dominico, +she’s a countess! How the juices of high living roll from +her brow as she stoops down, and gives the unfortunate +St. Nicholas a greasy dish-cloth of her fat lips! Faugh! +I’ll consider about my course of life, Dominico. There +are some inconveniences in being a saint. Next comes +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[151]</a></span> +an old and toothless crone, all draggled with dirt, limping +on crutches—a most pitiful object to look upon. +She hobbles slowly and painfully up to the place just +vacated—puts her crutches aside, kneels down, and, +bowing low her palsied head, presses a dry, shriveled, +and leathery kiss upon the grease-spot left by the fat +woman. Thrice she performed this ceremony, mumbling +over in her guttural way the prescribed formula; and +then rising, regained her crutches, and begged for alms. +Well, of course I gave the alms; but the other part of +the performance suggested some painful thoughts. It +was surely enough to moderate the ardor of one’s aspirations +toward a saintly life. Yet, after all, Dominico, +every sweet must have its bitter. Let us not despair +yet. Next comes a great bearded Mujik, all tattered and +torn—a regular grizzly bear on his hind legs, and drunk +at that. This horrid monster has evidently not known +the use of either soap or water for many a long day. +His accustomed beverage must be vodka, and grease the +only application ever used to purify his skin. He, too, +kneels down and gives the image three cordial smacks—a +pretty heavy penalty to endure on the part of any +saint. Upon my word, Dominico, I don’t think it would +be possible for me to stand that! But hold—here +comes a fellow who caps the climax. A bilious, yellow-skinned, +black-eyed fop, dressed in the height of fashion, +with frizzled black hair, divided behind, and smelling +strong of pomatum, a well-oiled mustache, and a simpering, +supercilious expression—one of those nasty creatures +that old Kit North says never can be washed clean. +He looks conceited and silly enough to be an attache to +the court of his imperial highness the emperor. When +this fellow knelt before the picture and slavered it with +his ugly mouth, a dizzy sensation of disgust came over +me. Upon a general review of all the circumstances, +Dominico, I have concluded that it might not be so pleasant, +after all, to be a saint—in Russia.</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed from this little sketch of a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[152]</a></span> +characteristic scene that I wish to ridicule any form of +religion. I saw precisely what I state, and am in no way +responsible for it. If people imagine this sort of thing +does them any good, they are quite welcome to enjoy it; +but they must not expect every body else to be impressed +with the profound sensations of solemnity which they +feel themselves. The Russians may kiss the heads off +every saint in Moscow without the slightest concern or +opposition on my part. The Romans have kissed a +pound of brass off the big toe of St. Peter, in the grand +Cathedral at Rome, and I see no reason why other races +should not enjoy similar privileges, only it does not produce +the same effect upon every body.</p> + +<p>Yet, in some sense, such scenes are not without an aspect +of sadness. It is melancholy to look upon such a +mingling of glitter and barbarism, wealth and poverty, +sincerity, debasement, and crime. No human being is +truly ridiculous, however grotesque may be the expression +of his feelings, when they are the genuine outpouring +of a contrite heart. These nobles, common citizens, +and beggars, thus meeting upon common ground, in a +country where the distinctions of rank are so rigidly +observed, and for the time being disregarding all differences +of condition; forgetting their ambitions, their jealousies, +and animosities, and giving themselves up with +such unselfish zeal to all the demands made upon them +by their forms of religion, is, in itself, a touching and impressive +sight. I confess that when the first shock of +grotesqueness, so strikingly connected with all I saw, +passed away, the feeling left was one of unutterable sadness. +These people were all fellow-beings, and, right +or wrong, they were profoundly in earnest; yet, while +thinking thus, I could not but fancy the same divine +strain of warning that was wafted to the house of Israel +still lingered in the air: “Every man is brutish in his +knowledge; every founder is confounded by the graven +image; for his molten image is falsehood, and there is +no breath in them; they are vanity and the work of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[153]</a></span> +errors; in the time of their visitation they shall perish.”</p> + +<p>In reference to the interiors of the churches of the +Kremlin, I can only find space to say, after having visited +them all, that they present a confusion of gilded and +glittering aisles, pillars, alcoves, chapels, and painted +domes, which baffles any thing like accurate description. +The Cathedral of the Assumption is literally lined with +gilding, daubs of paintings representing scriptural scenes, +figures and pictures of saints, dragons and devils of every +conceivable color and oddity of design and costume, +and burnished shrines and candelabras. Through the +dazzling mazes of this sacred edifice crowds of devotees, +priests, and penitents are continually wandering; here, +casting themselves upon their knees, and bowing down +before some gold-covered shrine; there standing in mute +and rapt adoration before some pictured symbol of eternity—grandees, +beggars, and all; the priests bearing tapers +and chanting; the air filled with incense; the whole +scene an indescribable combination of moving appeals to +the senses. All the churches of the Kremlin partake, +more or less, of this character. In some of them, the old +bones and other relics held peculiarly sacred are inclosed +within iron gratings or railings, and are only accessible +to the visitor through the services of a priestly guide. +Every visitor must, of course, pay for the gratification +of his curiosity; so that the bones of the most venerated +characters in the history of the Russian Church are turned +into a considerable source of profit. It may well be +said that every saint pays his own way, so long as there +is a fragment of him left in this world. If one could be +assured of the truth of all he learns during a tour of inspection +through these receptacles of sacred relics, it +would indeed confound all his previous impressions that +the days of miracles had passed. There is a picture in +the Uspenski Saber, the bare contemplation of which, +combined with a fervent appeal, it is confidently asserted, +recently effected a sudden and wonderful cure in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[154]</a></span> +case of a crippled man, who was carried there from his +bed, but after his devotions before this picture walked +out of the door as well as ever; and every where about +these sacred precincts pictures and carved images are +abundant which at stated intervals shed tears and manifest +other tokens of vitality.</p> + +<p>Outside, on the steps of those churches, the stranger +encounters innumerable gangs of beggars, who watch +his incoming and his outgoing with the most intense +eagerness—rushing toward him with outstretched hands, +calling upon all the saints to bless him and his issue forever +and ever, and sometimes bowing down to the earth +before him, in their accustomed way, as if he himself +partook of some sacred attributes. Apart from the +wretched aspect of these poor creatures, among which +were the lame, the halt, and the blind from all the purlieus +of Moscow, there was something very revolting in +the debasement of their attitudes. To assist them all +was impossible; and I often had to struggle through +the crowds with feelings akin to remorse in being compelled +to leave them thus vainly appealing to my charity. +When alone, hours after, the weary and pathetic +strain of their supplications would haunt me, bearing in +its sorrowful intonations a weird warning that we are +all bound together in the great fellowship of sin.</p> + +<p>And now, while we are taking our last lingering look +at the Kremlin, the mighty bells of the tower toll forth +a funeral knell. A priest lies dead in one of the churches, +his coffin draped in the habiliments of woe. The +chanting rises ever and anon above the death-knell +that sweeps through the air. Standing aloof, we listen +to the solemn sounds of mourning. The funeral cortége +comes forth from the church. The hearse, with its +plumed horses all draped in black, receives the coffin; +priests and mourners, bearing lighted tapers, lead the +way, chanting a requiem for the departed; and thus +they pass before us—the living and the dead—till they +reach the Holy Gate. Then the priests and the crowd +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[155]</a></span> +bow down and pray; and when they have passed out +from under the sacred arch, they turn before the image +of the Savior and pray again; then rising, they cross +themselves devoutly and pass on to the last earthly resting-place +of their friend and brother.</p> + +<p>Surely death draws us nearer together in life. I +thought no more of forms. What matters it if we are +all true to our Creator and to our convictions of duty! +Life is too short to spend in earthly contentions.</p> + +<p>“In the morning it flourisheth and groweth up; in +the evening it is cut down and withereth.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV.</h2> + +<h3>RUSSIAN MANNERS AND CUSTOMS.</h3> + + +<p>Rude and savage as the lower orders are in their external +appearance, they certainly can not be considered +deficient in politeness, if the habit of bowing be taken +as an indication. In that branch of civilization they are +well entitled to take rank with the Germans and French, +from whom, doubtless, they have acquired many of their +forms of etiquette. Something, however, of Asiatic gravity +and courtliness mingles with whatever they may +have adopted from the more sprightly and demonstrative +races of the South; and a certain degree of dignity, accompanied +though it may be with rags and filth, is always +observable in their manners. The alacrity, good +nature, and enthusiasm so characteristic of the Germans, +and the dexterous play of muscles and vivacious suavity +of the French, are wholly deficient in the Russians—such +of them, at least, as have retained their nationality. +The higher classes, of course, who frequently spend their +summers at the watering-places of Germany and their +winters in Paris, come home, like all traveled gentlemen, +with a variety of elegant accomplishments, the chief of +which is a disgust for their own language and customs. +This, indeed, seems to be a characteristic of several other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[156]</a></span> +nations—an inordinate desire to become denationalized +by imitating whatever is meretricious and absurd in +other people; and you need not be surprised should you +fail to recognize even your unpretending friend and correspondent +on his return to California; for although I +still pretend to write a little English, I no longer speak +it except in broken accents. Having also worn out +three good hats practicing the art of bowing on the +boulevards of Paris and the glacis of Frankfort, I never +pretend now to recognize any body without striking the +top of my tile against the cap of my knee.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="a_passage_of_politeness" id="a_passage_of_politeness"></a> +<img src="images/thor027.png" width="600" height="457" +alt="Three beggars bow to one another" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A PASSAGE OF POLITENESS.</p> + +<p>This, you see, is all in the way of excuse for the Russians, +and arises rather from an excess of good nature +than an excess of egotism. Constant practice in the solemnities +of street-worship—uncovering their heads and +bowing low before their numerous saints and shrines—may +have some influence upon the stateliness of Russian +politeness. It is, however, a very prominent and +characteristic trait, and in some of its phases rather astounding +to a stranger. A common thing in the streets +of Moscow is to see a couple of sturdy beggars, uncouth +as grizzly bears, meet and stop before each other with +the utmost and most punctilious gravity. Beggar number +one takes his greasy cap from his head slowly and +deliberately, gives it a graceful sweep through the air, +and, with a most courtly obeisance, exhibits the matted +tuft, or the bald spot on the top of his head, to his +ragged friend. Beggar number two responds in a similar +courteous style, neither uttering a word. Each then +gravely replaces his cap, touches the brim of it once or +twice by way of representing a few extra bows, and +passes on his way with an expression of profound dignity, +utterly unconscious of the grotesque effect of all this +ceremony to a stranger. I have seen the most vagabond-looking +istrovoschik, or drosky-drivers, jump out +of their drosky and perform similar courtesies toward +each other; and where men of this craft are given to +politeness, one may rest assured that it must be a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[158]</a></span> +national characteristic. All seem to be the slaves of ceremony, +from the Czar down to the Mujik. Porters, +wagoners, water-carriers, butchers, bakers, and chimney-sweeps +are equally skilled in the noble art of bowing. +At first, judging by the uncouth faces and the grimy costumes +of these interesting people, such passages of politeness +have very much the effect of burlesque. It +seems impossible that men of such rude aspect can be in +earnest. One soon gets used to it, however, and regards +it as a matter of course. I could not but think how +strange it would look to see a couple of Sacramento or +San Francisco hack-drivers meet in some populous part +of the town, and each one take off his hat to the other, +and, with a graceful flourish, make a courtly salaam; or +a pair of draymen stop their drays, get down leisurely, +approach each other in an attitude of impressive dignity, +take off their hats, and double themselves up before an +admiring audience. They would certainly be suspected +in our rude country of poking fun at each other. I can +very well understand why butchers and chimney-sweeps +should be polite, since they are accustomed to scraping; +and the custom looks appropriate enough with many +other classes, including barbers, who are generally men +of oily manners, and tailors and printers, who are naturally +given to forms; but with men whose business is +intimately associated with horse-flesh, I must say it has +something of a satirical aspect. Never in this world +can I force myself to believe that a hack-driver is in +earnest in any thing short of his fare. Do not understand +me as casting any injurious reflection upon this +valuable class of men; but it is a melancholy feature in +humanity—of which sad experience enables me to speak +feelingly—that integrity and horse-flesh are antagonistical, +and can never go together. For the hack-driver +personally I have great respect. He is a man of the +world—knows a thing or two about every body and +every thing; is constitutionally addicted to cheating, +and elevates that noble propensity into one of the fine +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[159]</a></span> +arts; maintains his independent character, and pockets +his extraordinary profits in the face of all municipal restrictions; +scoffs at the reign of the law, and drinks his +regular bitters. I consider him a persecuted and an injured +man; but of such elastic stuff is he made that he +rises above all persecutions and all injuries, and still is, +and ever will be, master of that portion of the human +race which travels and abounds in cities. He is given +to humor, too, is the hackman. Nobody better understands +how to give a joke, or to resent one. An adept +in ridicule, he always enjoys it when not applied to himself. +If he is deficient in any one quality, perhaps it is +piety. Hack-drivers, as a class, are not pious men; they +may be very good men in their way, but, strictly speaking, +they are not pious. Neither are they much given +to mutual courtesies, especially at steam-boat landings. +Therefore I say that to see hack-drivers bow down before +shrines and stop on public thoroughfares, and with +the utmost gravity uncover their heads and interchange +courtly salaams—nay, even kiss hands in certain cases—is +a novel and peculiar spectacle, suggestive of improvements +which might be beneficially imported into our +country.</p> + +<p>There was an impassive, abstracted air about Dominico +very difficult to describe, but very impressive to +a stranger. All these peculiarities were developed the +first or second day of our acquaintance. About the +third he seemed to grow impatient, hummed over a few +gems from unknown operas, and was less disposed than +usual to unbend himself. There was evidently a coolness +growing up between us. I suspected it originated +in my hat, which was really very shabby; and fancied I +detected a supercilious expression in his eye as it ranged +over my coat and down to my boots. At length he +said, “Monsieur, you appear to travel with very little +baggage!”</p> + +<p><i>Myself.</i> Yes, only a knapsack.</p> + +<p><i>Dominico</i> (after a pause). Pray what business may +Monsieur be engaged in?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[160]</a></span> +<i>M.</i> None at all—just ranging about miscellaneously.</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> May I be so bold as to ask what part of England +does Monsieur come from?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Oh, I didn’t come from England at all!</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> (puzzled). Pray where does Monsieur come +from?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Oh, just come from over the way there—California!</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> (elevating his eyebrows and stopping suddenly). +California? The great gold country? Where they +dig gold out of the ground?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Yes—that’s my country.</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> (admiringly). Oh, then, Monsieur is a gentleman +of fortune, just traveling for pleasure?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Precisely; for pleasure and information combined. +My estates are situated in the city of Oakland.</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> Is that a large city?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Well, it covers a good deal of ground—as much, I +think, as Moscow.</p> + +<p><i>Dom.</i> If Monsieur pleases, we will take a drosky and +visit some of the gardens?</p> + +<p><i>M.</i> Agreed.</p> + +<p>And so ended the conversation. It was marvelous, +the change it produced in Dominico; how his dignity +evaporated; how vivacious he became; how frank and +unreserved he was in his descriptions of the wonders of +Moscow; how he scorned to take trifles of change, and +how magnificently he disregarded expenses. Wherever +we went, however grand the domestics, soldiers, or police, +Dominico was always high above them, and I could +hear him descanting constantly on the wonderful richness +of California. Doubtless the strain of his conversation +ran about thus: “Behold, gentlemen, I have brought +before you a living Californian! Notwithstanding the +shabbiness of his hat, and the strange and uncivilized +aspect of his clothes, he is the richest man in that land +of gold! Yes, gentlemen, his income can scarcely fall +short of ten millions of rubles per annum. Make way, +if you please!”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[161]</a></span> +All things considered, Dominico let me off pretty well +at the close of our acquaintance, upon my explaining to +him that a draft for five hundred thousand rubles which +ought to be on the way had failed to reach me, owing +doubtless to some irregularity in the mail service, or +some sudden depression in my Washoe stocks.</p> + +<p>In the way of food the hotels are well supplied, and +the fare is not bad in the principal cities. Fish and +game are abundant, but veal is the standard dish. I +called for a beefsteak at the hotel in St. Petersburg, and +was furnished with veal. The soup was made of veal. +After salad we had veal cutlets. Then came a veal +stew; next in order was a veal pie; and before the +courses were finished I think we had calf’s head baked +and stuffed. At a station-house on the way to Moscow +I hurriedly purchased a sandwich. It was made of veal. +I asked for mutton-chops at the hotel in Moscow, and +got veal. In fact, I was surfeited with veal in every +possible shape wherever I went.</p> + +<p>Now I am not particular in matters of diet. In a case +of emergency I can relish buzzard, but if there is any one +kind of food upon earth that I think never was designed +to be eaten, it is veal. No very young meat is good, to +my notion—not even young pig, so temptingly described +by the gentle Elia; nor young dog, so much esteemed +by Chinese and Russian epicures. It has neither the consistency +nor the flavor of the mature animal, and somehow +suggests unpleasant images of flabby innocence. +There is something horribly repugnant to one’s sense of +humanity in killing and devouring a helpless little calf. +Who but a cannibal can look the innocent creature in +the face, with its soft confiding eyes, its gentle and baby-like +manners, and calculate upon devouring its brains, or +satisfying the cravings of hunger upon its tender ribs? +Who can see the butcher, with his murderous knife in +such a connection, without a sting of remorse at the idea +of the mother’s grief—her great eyes swimming in tears, +her lowing cries haunting him for days? I never see a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[162]</a></span> +gang of these helpless little creatures driven to the +shambles without thinking of that touching picture, the +Murder of the Innocents.</p> + +<p>In vain I tried to escape this veal passion in Russia. +Nay, even in Finland and Sweden it pursued me. I +actually began to feel flabby, and felt ashamed to look +the poor cows in the face. It was a marvel how the cattle, +of which there seemed to be no lack, ever arrived at +maturity. If the people kill all the calves, as appeared +to be the case, in the name of wonder, where do the +cows come from? This question puzzled me exceedingly +for some time, and was only solved when I asked +a Russian to explain it. “Oh,” said he, smiling at my +simplicity, “they only kill the male calves. They allow +the cow calves to grow up!”</p> + +<p>Still, when I came to reflect upon the reason given, it +occurred to me that they must be a very singular race +of cows. Perhaps they were Amazonian cows.</p> + +<p>This leads me by an easy and not ungraceful transition +to the Foundling Asylum of Moscow, one of the +largest and most remarkable institutions of the kind in +the world. In other public places throughout Europe, +especially in picture-galleries and museums, the visitor is +required to deliver up his walking-stick at the door, in +return for which he receives a ticket corresponding with +one fastened upon the article itself—as in baggage-cars +upon the railway, so that he may redeem it when he +thinks proper. But I had little thought, in my experience +of foreign travel, that a similar system should prevail +in regard to the deposit of living beings, as in the +foundling establishment of Moscow. Here, any body +with a surplus baby can carry it and have it labeled +around the neck, receive a ticket in return corresponding +in number with the deposit, and call for it at any +future time, certain that it will be delivered up—if alive. +The building is of immense extent, and is situated on +the banks of the Moskwa River, near the lower part of +the town. The grounds around it are tastefully laid out, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[163]</a></span> +and must occupy twenty or thirty acres, the whole being +surrounded by a high wall, and comprising numerous +and substantial outhouses, workshops, etc., for the use +of the establishment. Many thousand children are annually +taken in and nursed at this institution, no restriction +being imposed upon the parents, who may be either +married or single, to suit their own taste or condition. +The regular force of wet-nurses employed is about six +hundred, besides which there are numerous dry-nurses +and teachers for the older children. It is estimated that +the entire expense of conducting the establishment is +not less than five or six hundred thousand rubles per +annum, most of which is defrayed by voluntary contributions +and interest received on loans.</p> + +<p>I spent a forenoon rambling through the various wards, +and can safely say I never before saw such an extraordinary +collection of human squabs within one inclosure. +It was certainly one of the strangest and saddest spectacles +I had ever witnessed—so many infant specimens +of humanity, bundled up like little packages of merchandise, +labeled, numbered, and nursed with a mathematical +regularity fearfully inconsistent with one’s notions of the +softness and tenderness of babyhood. To be sure, they +are well treated—kindly and gently treated, perhaps; +but it is pitiful to see these helpless little creatures bereft +of the gentle motherly touch; washed, physicked, +nursed, and too often buried by hired and unsympathizing +hands; and no more thought of them, save in the +way of duty, than so many little animals destitute of +souls. The very idea of attachments formed by nurses +is of itself a painful subject of contemplation; for of +what avail is it that a child should be loved by its nurse, +or find in her a new mother, when by the rules of the +establishment there must be constant separations. It is +said that over twenty-five thousand children derive, +either directly or indirectly, support from this establishment. +About six thousand are taken in annually, of +which perhaps one fourth die. Many of them are not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[164]</a></span> +far from dead when admitted; and it is only surprising, +considering the deprivations they must endure in being +so suddenly withdrawn from the mother’s care, that so +large a proportion should survive.</p> + +<p>If it be a wise child that knows its own father, it +would be a very remarkable father who could recognize +his own child among such a variegated collection as I +saw here. Never upon earth was there a more astonishing +mixture of baby flesh—big babies and little babies, +pug-nosed, black-eyed, blue-eyed, fat and lean, red, yellow, +and white babies—all sorts ever invented or brought +to light in this curious world of ours. Yet the utmost +order was observed, and the beds, nurses, cribs, and feeding +apparatus looked wonderfully clean for a Russian +institution, where cleanliness is not generally the prevailing +characteristic. But, great guns! what music +they must make when they all get started in one grand +simultaneous chorus! five or six hundred babies, of both +sexes, from one to two or three years old, in one department; +as many girls from three to five in another; boys +of the same age in another; older boys and older girls +innumerable in another! What a luxury it must be to +hear them all together! In general, however, they do +not make as much noise as might be supposed. I only +heard about forty or fifty small choruses while there; +but, trifling as that was, it enabled me to form an idea +of the style of music that might be made when five or +six thousand gave their whole mind to it. I am personally +acquainted with one small baby not over a couple +of years old, who, when excited of nights, can very nearly +raise the roof off the house, and am certain that five +hundred of the same kind would burst the whole city of +Moscow sky-high if ever they got at it together. These +Russian foundlings, however, are generally heavy-faced, +lymphatic babies, and fall naturally into the machine existence +which becomes their fate; otherwise it would +seem a hard life for the poor nurses, who are not always +gifted with the patient endurance of mothers. I was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[165]</a></span> +told that the children only cried periodically, say at intervals +of every four hours, but hardly credit that statement. +Being for the most part soggy little animals, they +spend a goodly portion of their time in sleep, and doubtless, +when not sleeping, are much given to eating and +drinking.</p> + +<p>During the summer months several thousand of these +children are sent out in the country to nurse, after which +they are returned in due order. As soon as they become +old enough, they are taught reading and writing, and the +most intelligent are selected to become teachers. The +boys usually receive a military education, and a certain +proportion of them furnish recruits for the imperial +army.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> + +<h3>DESPOTISM <i>versus</i> SERFDOM.</h3> + + +<p>The reader has probably discovered by this time that +I have no great affection for the political institutions of +Europe, and am pretty strong in my prejudices against +despotic governments of all sorts. The fact is, I believe +our own, with all its faults, is the best system of government +ever devised by man.</p> + +<p>The Emperor Alexander II. is admitted on all hands +to be a most estimable and enlightened sovereign. He +possesses, in a greater degree, perhaps, than any of his +predecessors, the confidence and affection of his people. +All his labors since he ascended the throne in February, +1855, have been directed to the emancipation of the serfs +and the general welfare of his country. No fault can be +found with him by the most ardent advocate of human +liberty. His sympathies are—as far as it is practicable +for those of an autocrat, clothed with absolute powers, +to be—in favor of freedom. Toward the people and the +government of the United States he entertains the most +kindly feeling, and would doubtless sincerely regret the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[166]</a></span> +overthrow of our republican system. He has, moreover, +devoted himself with unceasing zeal to the abolition of +many onerous and unnecessary restrictions upon the liberty +of the press and the civil rights of his subjects; encouraged +institutions of learning; prohibited to a considerable +extent cruelty and oppression in the subordinate +branches of the public service; and in all respects +has proved himself equal to the great duty imposed upon +him, and worthy the esteem and commendation of the +civilized world. Yet I can not see what there is in a +despotic form of government, under the very best circumstances, +to enlist our admiration or win our sympathies. +We may respect and appreciate a good ruler, but +every autocrat is not good of his kind; nor is every +country in a happy condition because it may be exempt +from the horrors of commotion. But no sovereign power +can ever attain a rank among the civilized nations of +the earth—beyond the respect to which its brute force +may entitle it—so long as the very germ of its existence +is founded in the suppression of civil and political liberty +among its subjects.</p> + +<p>What, after all, does the emancipation of the serfs +amount to? They are only to be nominally free. The +same power that accords them the poor privilege of tilling +the earth for their own subsistence may at any time +withdraw it. They are not to be owned by individual +proprietors, and bought and sold like cattle; but they +possess none of the privileges of freemen; have no voice +in the laws that govern them; must pay any taxes imposed +upon them; may be ordered, at any time, to abandon +their homes and sacrifice their lives in foolish and +unnecessary wars in which they have no interest; in +short, are just as much slaves as they were before, with +the exception that during the pleasure of the emperor +they can not be sold. But will every emperor be equally +humane? There is nothing to prevent the successor of +Alexander the Second from restoring the system of serfage, +with all its concomitant horrors. It will not be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[167]</a></span> +difficult to find a predominating influence among the +nobles to accomplish that object; for this has been a +long and severe struggle against their influence, and +owes its success entirely to the unremitting labors of +the sovereign. The next autocrat may labor with equal +earnestness to undo this good work; but it matters +little, save in name. Despotism and freedom are antipodes, +and can not be brought together. It may be +said that it would be difficult to enslave a people who +had once even partially tasted the sweets of liberty, but +the history of Russia does not furnish testimony to that +effect.</p> + +<p>Since the publication of the ukase abolishing serfdom, +there has been a great deal of trouble in the more remote +districts between the serfs and their masters, arising +chiefly from ignorance on the one side, and discontent +and disaffection on the other. Every possible obstacle +has been thrown in the way of a fair understanding +of its terms. Some idea may be formed of the extreme +ignorance and debased condition of the serfs when +I mention that in many parts of the country, where the +influence of the court is not so immediately felt by the +proprietors, they have assumed such despotic powers +over their dependents, and exercise to this day such an +inexorable command over their lives, liberties, and persons, +that the poor creatures have almost learned to regard +them as demigods. When a nobleman of high position, +owning large tracts of land and many serfs, visits +his estates, it is not an uncommon thing to see the enslaved +peasantry, who are taught to believe that they +exist by his sufferance, cast themselves prostrate before +him and kiss the ground, in the Oriental fashion, as he +passes. It is a species of idolatry highly soothing to +men in official position, who are themselves subjected to +almost similar debasement before their imperial master. +In some instances, especially at a distance from the capital, +the acts of cruelty perpetrated by these cringing and +venal nobles, as an offset to the arbitrary rule under +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[168]</a></span> +which they themselves exist, are enough to make the +blood curdle. The knout, a terrible instrument made of +thick, heavy leather, and sometimes loaded with leaden +balls, is freely used to punish the most trifling offense. +Men and women, indiscriminately, are whipped at the +pleasure of their masters, the only real restrictions being +that if they die within twenty-four hours the owners are +subjected to trial for murder; but even that is nearly +always evaded. The present emperor has done much +to meliorate these abuses; but his orders have to go a +great way and through a great many unreliable hands, +and it is very difficult to carry them into effect unless +they accord with the views of a venal and corrupt bureaucracy +and an unprincipled corps of subordinates.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<a name="serfs" id="serfs"></a> +<img src="images/thor028.png" width="397" height="400" +alt="Two serfs, one seated, talk together" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SERFS.</p> + +<p>In some of the districts where the serfs were purposely +kept in ignorance of the true meaning and intention +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[169]</a></span> +of the emperor’s ukase, a vague idea took possession of +their minds that they were free, and that the proprietors +had no right to compel them to labor, or in any way +curtail their liberty. Many of them left the estates to +which they were attached, and sought occupation elsewhere +on their own account; others refused to obey the +orders given them by their seigneurs, and a great deal +of trouble and bloodshed ensued. In some instances it +became necessary to call in the military forces of the district +to subdue the mutinous serfs and preserve order. +Protests and remonstrances innumerable were addressed +to the emperor, pointing out the absolute impracticability +of carrying his beneficent scheme into effect, based +chiefly on the ground that the serfs themselves were +opposed to emancipation. This, of course, occasioned a +great deal of anxiety and trouble at head-quarters. It +was rather a hard state of things that the very peasants +whom he was striving with all his power to serve should, +by their insubordination—arising sometimes, it was true, +from ignorance, but too often from willful misconduct—do +even more than their masters to frustrate his beneficent +designs. These troubles went on from time to time, +till eventually a deputation of three hundred serfs made +their way to St. Petersburg and solicited an audience of +the emperor. His majesty, probably in no very amiable +mood, called the deputation before him, and demanded +what they desired. They answered that they wished +an explanation in regard to his order of emancipation, +which many of their people did not understand. Some +thought they were to be free in two years, but many +thought they were free from the date of the order, with +the simple condition that they were to pay sixty rubles +to their masters the first year, and thirty the second; +others, again, that they were free without any condition +whatever. All they wanted to know was, were they +free or not? If free, why were they forced to labor for +other people; and if not free, was there any prospect +that they ever would be? The emperor asked, “Can +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[170]</a></span> +you read?” Some answered that they could read, others +that they could not. “Have you read my order?” +demanded the emperor of those who could read. “Yes, +your majesty,” they replied, “we have read your order, +but we don’t understand it.” All who could read and +had read the order were removed on one side. “Now,” +said the emperor, turning to the others, “has this order +been read to you?” “Yes, your majesty,” they replied, +“but we don’t understand it.” “Very well,” observed +the emperor; “you seem to be an intelligent set +of men, capable of learning, and we shall see that the +order is made intelligible. We had supposed it was +perfectly clear in its terms; but, since you do not or +will not comprehend it, all you who can read must be +whipped.” The literary portion of the deputation were +then taken off by a file of soldiers, treated to a score or +two of lashes each, and sent back to their people to explain +the manifesto. “And all you,” said the emperor, +turning to the unlearned members of the deputation, +“must serve three years as soldiers, during which time +we shall see that you are taught to read.” They were +accordingly taken off, and furnished with a general outfit +of uniforms, and are now serving their imperial master +in a military capacity.</p> + +<p>Summary justice, that, one might say. It seems, at +all events, a pretty prompt method of explaining official +documents, and could probably be adopted beneficially +in other countries.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII.</h2> + +<h3>REFORM IN RUSSIA.</h3> + + +<p>In my last chapter I took occasion to acknowledge, in +terms of sincere respect and admiration, the noble efforts +of the present emperor, Alexander II., in the great cause +of human freedom. He has already gone very far beyond +any of his predecessors in the extension of civil +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[171]</a></span> +liberty among his subjects, but a great crisis has now arrived +which will practically test his sincerity. What he +has heretofore done will be worse than nothing unless +he remains true to himself and the noble cause which he +has espoused. History shows us that the sovereigns of +Russia have not always been indifferent to public opinion; +but, with one or two honorable exceptions, it also +shows us that they have been more liberal in their professions +than in their acts. I ventured the assertion +that there are insuperable obstacles to a very high order +of civilization in Russia. Perhaps this is too gloomy a +view of the case, and, considering the wonderful natural +capacities of the people, it may be thought rather illiberal +for an American; but I must confess the difficulties +strike me as very serious. The severity of the climate +in the middle and northern parts of the empire, the vast +proportion of desert and unavailable lands, and the diversity +of fierce and ignorant races to be governed, are +certainly obstacles not easily overcome, if we are to understand +by civilization a predominance of moral and +intellectual cultivation, combined with material prosperity +and a reasonable share of liberty and happiness among +the mass of the people. It is not that a few shall be +learned, and intelligent, and privileged above all others, +but that the broad fields of knowledge shall be open to +all; that education shall be general, and the right of +every class to the fruits of their labor and the enjoyment +of civil, political, and religious liberty shall be recognized +and protected by the laws of the land. In this view, it +seems to me that the most serious obstacle to civilization +in Russia is presented by the despotic nature of the +government, and the difficulty, under the existing state +of things, of substituting another for which the ignorant +masses are prepared. The aristocracy are constantly +clamoring for increased powers and privileges, but it is +very certain they have no affinity, beyond pecuniary interest, +with the middle and lower classes, and that their +sole aim is to interpose every possible obstacle to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[172]</a></span> +progress of freedom. The emperor is now practically +the great conservative power who stands between them +and their dependents. Any increase of authority to the +aristocracy would deprive the masses of the limited protection +which they now enjoy. Already the head and +front of Russian despotism are the camarilla and the +bureaucracy, who practically administer the affairs of +the government. So long as they hold their power, +they stand as a barrier to all progress on the part of the +people. Thoroughly aristocratic and tyrannical in all +their instincts, they have every thing to lose and nothing +to hope from a constitutional form of government. +Why, it may be asked, if the emperor is sincere in his +professions of regard for freedom and civilization, does +he not make use of the aristocratic powers vested in +him, and cast away from him all these obstacles to the +perfection of his plans? The question is easier asked +than answered. We are but little enlightened upon the +secret councils that prevail at the court of St. Petersburg. +Whatever is done there is only known by its results; +whatever finds its way into the public press is +subject to a rigid censorship, and is worth little so far +as it conveys the remotest idea of facts. What you see +demonstrated you may possibly be safe in believing, but +nothing else. It may be easier to speak of removing +obstacles than to do it; or it may be that the emperor +has no fixed policy for the future, and therefore hesitates +to encounter difficulties through which he can not see +his way without any adequate or well-defined object.</p> + +<p>No country in the world presents such an anomalous +condition of affairs as that presented by Russia at this +time. The preliminary steps have been taken to set free +over twenty-three millions of white people, so accustomed +to a condition of servitude, so generally ignorant, and +so incapable of thinking or acting for themselves, that +many, if not most of them, look with dread upon the +movement made for their emancipation. The rights reserved +to them are so little understood, and, indeed, so +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[173]</a></span> +visionary under any circumstances—for two rights to +the same land would be as impracticable in Russia between +the proprietors and the peasant as in our country +between the whites and the Indians—that they can see +nothing beyond abandonment to increased oppressions +and sufferings in the proposed movement. Degraded +as they are, accustomed from infancy to obey their rulers, +kept in a condition of brutish ignorance in order that +they may be kept in subjection, it is natural they should +be unable to realize the mysterious benefits about to be +conferred upon them. In their present abject position +they enjoy a certain kind of protection from their owners, +who, if not always governed by motives of humanity, +are at least generally susceptible of the influences of +self-interest, and take care to feed and clothe them, and +provide for them in cases of sickness; and although this +is done at the expense of their labor, it relieves them +from responsibilities which they are scarcely prepared +to assume. To set them free against their own will, or +even admitting that, in common with all mankind, they +must have some general appreciation of liberty—to undertake +so radical a change in their condition and future +prospects without a practical definition of their rights +and the substitution of some substantial benefits for the +withdrawal of responsibilities now borne by their owners, +is an anomalous movement attended by no ordinary +difficulties. When we add to this the adverse influences +of the landed proprietors; their determined hostility +to the abrogation of rights and privileges which +they have so long enjoyed; their entire conviction that, +without direct powers of coercion, they can not depend +upon the labor of the peasantry; that the natural tendency +of free labor is to elevate the masses, and render +them less subservient to the will of the aristocracy, +then, indeed, it may well be conceived that the natural +difficulties arising from the ignorance and improvident +habits of the class now held in bondage will be greatly +augmented. Believing, however, that all men have a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[174]</a></span> +right to their freedom; that such a right is the gift +of the Creator, which can only be wrongfully withheld +from them by any earthly power; that it is superior +to any casual influences or considerations of policy, we +can not but admire the moral courage of the movement, +and the apparent zeal and constancy with which the +emperor has labored, in the face of every obstacle, to +carry it into effect. But the question now arises, is it +to end before it assumes a substantial form? Is it to +be a mere chimera gotten up to entertain and delude +the world? If Alexander aspires to the approval of all +enlightened people beyond the limits of his own empire, +he must make good his claim to it by a determined policy, +carrying in it the germ of civil and political liberty. +It will not do to “tickle the ears of the groundlings” +with high-sounding phrases of human progress, while he +fetters their limbs with manacles of iron. There can be +no such thing as a graduated despotism—a stringent +form of controlling the ignorant and a mild form of controlling +the intelligent—under one system of government. +The ways to knowledge, to honorable distinction, +to wealth and happiness, must be open to all; justice +must be administered with impartiality, and wherever +there is taxation there must be representation. +There can not be one kind of justice for the rich and +another for the weak; constitutions for some and despotisms +for others. The machine must be complete in +all its parts, and work with a common accord, or it will +soon become deranged and break to pieces.</p> + +<p>Peter the Great did much toward the physical improvement +of the country. He built up cities, created +a navy, organized an army, extended his dominions, encouraged +education, and fostered the mechanical arts; +but he held a tight rein upon his subordinate officers, +and suppressed what little freedom the masses enjoyed. +He was ambitious, and liked to enjoy a reputation for +enlightenment, but no regard for civilization beyond the +power it gave him to extend his dominions. His +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[175]</a></span> +subjects were merely his instruments. All he learned in +other countries was to sharpen them and keep them in +order, that he might use them to the best advantage. +His ambition was not of the highest or noblest kind. +The page he has left in history is interesting and instructive, +but there is nothing in it to warrant the belief +that it will be selected by a remote posterity to be +bound up among the lives of truly great and good men. +Catharine II. extended the privileges of the nobility, +made wars upon inoffensive nations, corrupted the morals +of her people, and manifested her regard for the serfs +by giving large numbers of them away to her paramours. +The Emperor Alexander I. was ambitious of distinction, +as the most cultivated and enlightened sovereign of his +time. He issued liberal edicts, but seldom observed +them. He wished to be thought friendly to liberty, +without sacrificing any of his despotic privileges. He +gave a Constitution to the Poles, but surrounded it by +such forms and influences that they could derive no advantage +from it. He was weak, cunning, and conceited; +given rather to the delicate evasions of diplomacy than +to the bold straightforwardness of truth and honor. The +Emperor Nicholas was utterly selfish and despotic in all +his instincts. He professed to take a profound interest +in the cause of emancipation, but it was purely a question +of policy with him. He cared nothing about human +rights. His dark and cruel nature was unsusceptible of +a noble or generous impulse. While he preached liberal +generalities, he ruled his subjects with an iron rod. He +was bigoted, narrow-minded, and brutal. The sense of +right was not in his nature. His ambition was to be an +object of heathenish idolatry to his subjects—whether as +a god or devil it mattered nothing; fear was the only +incense he was capable of craving; and if such a nature +can be susceptible of enjoyment, his consisted in the +abasement of his fellow-creatures. The severity of his +decrees, the rigor of his administration, and the attributes +of infallibility which he cast around his person, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[176]</a></span> +caused him to be regarded with awe, but not with love. +He could brook no opposition nor survive a failure. +Few tears were shed when he was stricken down in his +pride. He left but a small legacy of good deeds to endear +him in the memory of his subjects. The haughty +Czar lies dead in his sepulchre—cold, stern, and solitary +as he lived.</p> + +<p>Nicholas left his country in a distracted and unhappy +condition—deeply in debt; commerce deranged; the +military service in the worst possible condition, and +nearly every branch of the public service in the hands +of corrupt and incapable men. Well might he say to +his own son upon his dying bed, “Poor Alexander, my +beloved son, where lie the ills of unhappy Russia?” +Well might he endeavor to make atonement for his errors +by recommending at his last hour the emancipation +of the serfs.</p> + +<p>The milder spirit of Alexander reigns in his place. +What future, then, does this humane young sovereign +propose to himself and his country? He gives personal +liberty to the serfs, but he can not allow them to become +intelligent and responsible beings. If they do, they will +no longer acknowledge his right to deprive them of political +liberty. He removes various restrictions from the +press, and the moment the light of intelligence strikes +upon the minds of his subjects, they call for a constitution +and the overthrow of a despotic camarilla. He undertakes +to restrain a powerful, intelligent, and unscrupulous +aristocracy, who by instinct, education, and self-interest +hate the very name of freedom, and they turn against +him, and provoke those whom he would serve to acts of +rebellion against his authority. We can scarcely wonder +that this is the case when we consider the interests +they have at stake. It is not likely that they will quietly +relinquish their accustomed source of revenue. On the +other hand, the argument is advanced, and with a good +share of reason, that the emancipation of the serfs is really +a benefit to the owners. It relieves them of enormous +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[177]</a></span> +responsibilities, and, by encouraging industry, increasing +the intelligence, self-reliance, and capacity of the +serfs themselves, makes their labor more profitable to +the landed proprietors. This is a view of the case, however, +in which they have no faith. Believing in nothing +free except the free use of authority in their own persons, +they can not be brought to understand the advantages +of free labor.</p> + +<p>But these considerations do not, by any means, comprise +all the difficulties in which Russia is now placed. +The dependencies are constantly in revolt. Constant +troubles are going on in the remote districts. Nine millions +of the population—the old believers who do not +profess the prevailing religion—have their secret conferences, +their plans and purposes, all antagonistical to the +existing form of government. A reign of terror exists +in Poland. The Finns detest their rulers, and are only +kept in a partial state of quietude by a total subversion +of the liberties guaranteed to them under the Constitution. +The municipal franchises existing in the various +provinces of Russia are a mere mockery; mayors and +corporate officers are imprisoned or banished without +cause or process of law. The councils of the government +are secret, and nobody can conjecture how long +he may be permitted to enjoy his personal liberty. The +exchequer is annually deficient from thirty to forty millions +of rubles. Public credit is growing worse and +worse every day, and the whole country is falling into a +condition of bankruptcy. It is evident, even to the most +superficial observer, that a great crisis is at hand. The +Poles are united in their resistance to the despotic sway +of the government. Witness the late bloody massacres +in Warsaw (1862), against which the whole civilized +world cries aloud in horror! They will not now be satisfied +with empty professions and still emptier concessions. +They demand a Constitution—not a mere paper +Constitution, like that of 1815, made to be violated by +every lackey of the government sent to coerce them. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[178]</a></span> +They demand civil, political, and religious liberty. Can +the emperor grant it to a dependency, and withhold it +from the body of his people?</p> + +<p>This has been tried for nearly half a century—ever +since 1815—and what has it resulted in? Are the +Poles any better satisfied now than they were then? +Are they benefited and enlightened by being cut down +and hacked to pieces by a set of drunken and bloodthirsty +Cossacks in the name of the great Russian government?</p> + +<p>The Emperor Alexander must adopt some other system. +He will never reduce the Poles to submission in +that way. Overpowered and cut to pieces they may be, +but not conquered. They belong to the unconquerable +races of mankind. The blood that heroes, and heroines, +and martyrs are made of runs in the veins of every man, +woman, and child of the Polish nation. If they can not +govern themselves, it is equally certain they can not be +governed by any despotic power. It is not by slaughtering +defenseless women and children; not by forcing +churches to be opened; not by sending savage and +heartless minions to crush the people down in the dust, +that Alexander II. is to win a reputation for humanity +and liberality. It is not by issuing edicts of emancipation +to his serfs, and then, at the instigation of a cruel +and ruthless camarilla, deluging the country with their +blood to keep them quiet, that he is going to do it. It +is not by extending privileges to the press and the universities, +and then, by a sudden and violent suppression +of all liberty, undertake to arrest some abuses, that he +is likely to achieve it. It is not by countenancing venal +and unscrupulous writers to sustain every outrage that +his nobles may choose to perpetrate, and banishing all +who respectfully remonstrate against their misconduct, +that he is to attain the highest eminence as a civilized +sovereign. It is not by keeping up a system of foreign +surveillance, by which Russians in other countries are +watched and their lives threatened, that these glorious +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[179]</a></span> +results are to be achieved. His secret police may (on +their own responsibility or his, it matters little to the +victims which) assassinate M. Herzain, the editor of the +<i>Kolokol</i>, in London; but if they do, a thousand Herzains +will rise in his place. No; it is by no such means +as these that the name of Alexander II. is to be transmitted +to posterity as the most liberal and enlightened +sovereign of the age.</p> + +<p>If he would regenerate Russia—if he would avert the +dismemberment of a great empire—if he would accomplish +the noble mission upon which the world gives him +the credit of having started, he must banish from his +presence all evil councils; he must be true to himself +and the great cause of humanity; he must give all his +people, and all his dependencies, a liberal and equitable +constitution, which will protect them from the despotic +sway of military governors and the aristocracy. He +must establish a constitutional government, complete in +all its parts; abolish secret tribunals, and open the avenues +of knowledge and justice to all. He must see that +the laws are fairly and equitably administered. He must +enlarge the liberty of the press, and proscribe no man +for his opinions, unless in cases of treason, and under peculiar +circumstances of civil commotion endangering the +public safety. He must abolish the censorship of the +colleges, universities, and places of public amusement, +and leave them to be regulated by the municipal authorities. +In short, he must cease to be a despot and become +a constitutional monarch. Will he do it? Can +he do it? Does he possess the moral courage to do it? +Time alone can answer these questions. I sincerely believe +the emperor is a good man, actuated by the best +motives, but not always governed by the wisest counsels. +I believe he now has an opportunity of earning a name +that enlightened men will bless through all time to come. +So far, it is to be regretted that he has not pursued the +most consistent course, but it is not yet too late to retrieve +his errors. One thing is certain—there can be no +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[180]</a></span> +half-way measures of reform in Russia. The spirit of +the age—the general increase of intelligence—requires a +radical change. He can not be autocrat and king at the +same time. He must be one or the other. If he tries +both, the empire will be dismembered before many years.</p> + +<p>Whatever may be the extent and variety of those hidden +restraints, which doubtless exist, and must, from the +very nature of the government, be exempt from the +scrutiny of a stranger as well as from popular discussion, +it is beyond question that in the principal cities, at +least, very little is visible in that respect which would +be considered objectionable in the municipal regulations +of any city in the United States. From this, of course, +must be excepted the presence in every public place and +thoroughfare of vast numbers of soldiers and officers; +but that is a feature which St. Petersburg shares in common +with all the cities of Europe, and the traveler can +scarcely regard it as an indication of the depressed condition +of Russian civilization. I think I have seen in +the streets of Pesth, Vienna, Berlin, and Frankfort quite +as many soldiers, according to the population, as in St. +Petersburg. I would say something about Paris, but I +expect to go there after a while, and would dislike very +much to be placed in the position of Mr. Dick Swiveller, +who was blockaded at his lodgings, and never could go +out without calculating which of the public ways was +still left open. But if there be officers enough of all +kinds in Paris to keep the public peace and suppress objectionable +correspondence and pamphlets against members +of the reigning family, there are also enough in Lyons +and Marseilles, as well as other cities of France, to +prove that civilization and soldiers, however inimical to +each other, may, by the force of circumstances, be reduced +to a partnership. The question that troubles me +most is to determine precisely what is the highest condition +of civilization. It can not be to enjoy fine palaces +and have a great many soldiers, for Marco Polo tells us +that the great Kubla Khan had palaces of gold and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[181]</a></span> +precious stones of incredible extent and most sumptuous +magnificence, such as the world has never seen from that +day to this, and could number his troops by millions; +yet nobody will undertake to say that the Tartars of the +tenth century were in advance of the French of the nineteenth +century. It can not consist in the enjoyment of +freedom, and the general dissemination of education and +intelligence among the people; for where will you find +a freer or more intelligent people than those of the +United States, who are rated by the Parisians as little +better than savages? I think civilization must consist +in the perfection of cookery, and a high order of tailoring +and millinery. If the French excel in the manufacture +of cannons and iron-cased ships, and devote a good deal +of attention to surgery, it is a necessity imposed upon +them by the presence of Great Britain and their natural +propensity for strong governments; but I am disposed +to believe that their genius lies in gastronomy and tailoring, +and in the construction of hats and bonnets. +Since the latter articles cover the heads of the best +classes of mankind, they must be the climax or crowning +feature of all human intelligence. I am greatly puzzled +by the various opinions on this subject entertained +by the most cultivated people of Europe. The English +seem to think the perfection of civilization consists in +preaching against slavery and then trying to perpetuate +it, in order to get hold of some cotton; the French in +suppressing family pamphlets, annulling the sacred contract +of marriage, building iron-cast ships, cooking frogs, +snails, and cats, making fancy coats, and topping off +the human head with elegant hats and bonnets; the Austrians +in the manufacture of shin-plasters for their soldiers, +and the making and breaking of constitutions for +ungovernable dependencies; the Prussians in the blasphemous +necromancy of receiving crowns for their kings +direct from God; and all in some shape or other professing +devotion to human liberty, and doing every thing +in their power to subvert it. Truly it is enough to puzzle +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[182]</a></span> +one who seeks for truth amid the prevailing fogs of +error that seem to have descended upon mankind. If +there be any degree in honesty, I really think the Emperor +of Russia is entitled to the palm of being the most +sincere in his profession of regard for the advancement +of human freedom. He imposes no restrictions upon his +own subjects which he does not consider necessary for +the maintenance of his despotic power, and, while struggling +against the influence of a wealthy, intelligent, and +refractory aristocracy to extend the boon of personal +liberty to twenty-three millions of serfs, is the only sovereign +who boldly and openly manifests a generous +sympathy for the cause of freedom in the United States. +While I can see nothing to admire in any form of despotism, +or any thing in common between us and the +government of Russia beyond the common bond of humanity +that should connect the whole human race, I am +forced to admit, with all my hatred of despotic institutions, +that they are not always a sure indication of an illiberal +and insincere spirit on the part of the rulers, or +of a base, sordid, and groveling spirit on that of the subjects. +It is a matter of regret, calculated to shake our +faith in the beneficial effects of a high order of intelligence +among men, that the course of England and +France, since the commencement of our difficulties, presents +a very unfavorable contrast with that of Russia; +for, although self-interest has restrained them from actual +participation in the overthrow of our government, +they have given its enemies the full benefit of their sympathy.</p> + +<p>You will smile, perhaps, at the oddity of the idea, considering +the roughness of our country, the scarcity of +palaces, fine equipages, liveried servants with white kid +gloves and cocked hats, and the absence of a perfect railroad +system in our remote quarter of the world; but I +am perfectly in earnest in saying that, if asked to lay my +hand upon my heart and declare, in all sincerity, what +country upon earth I do consider the most highly favored +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[183]</a></span> +and enlightened at the present stage of the nineteenth +century, I should not hesitate one moment to name the +State of California. The idea has been growing in my +head ever since I came to Europe. It is based upon considerations +which are susceptible of the clearest demonstration. +For example, assuming our population to be +five hundred thousand, where will you find the same +number of educated, enterprising, and intelligent men in +any one district or state of Europe, not excepting any +given part of France or England? If we have fewer +learned and scientific men than older countries can boast, +we have a greater number above mediocrity, according +to our population, and a vastly higher average of general +intelligence. If our laws are too often loosely administered, +it is at least in the power of the people to remedy +the difficulty by substituting good and faithful for corrupt +and inefficient officers; and if any law should prove +burdensome, it can be repealed at the will of the majority. +So far as injustice is concerned, I have seen more +of it in Europe, individual rights were concerned, +than I ever saw in California. We have a public sentiment +in favor of the right which can not be shaken by +corrupt, factious, and transitory influences. If our governors +and public men are not furnished with gilded palaces +and fine equipages, the labor of the toiling poor is +not taxed to supply them. If we are backward in the +higher branches of literature and the fine arts, there is +scarcely a mechanic or a miner in the state who does not +know more of the history of his own country, possess a +more accurate knowledge of its institutions, read more +of the current intelligence of the day from all other countries—who, +in short, is not better versed in every branch +of practical knowledge applicable to the ordinary purposes +of life, than the average of the most intelligent +classes in Great Britain or France. If we are deficient +in the dandyism of dress and the puppyism of manners, +which so generally pass for refinement and politeness on +the Continent of Europe, there is scarcely a boor among +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[184]</a></span> +us who would not be hooted out of the lowest society +for the indifference, rudeness, and disrespect toward +women, which form the rule rather than the exception +among the polished nations of Europe. I have seen +more absolute selfishness, coarseness, and innate vulgarity +under the guise of elegant manners, since my arrival +on this side of the water, than I ever saw in California +under any guise whatever. If that be civilization, I do +not want to see it prevail in our country. It would be +difficult, indeed, to say in what respect a comparison +would not show a heavy balance in our favor. Wealth +is more equally diffused, fortune is more accessible to all, +the honors and emolument of political position are within +the reach of every man, the press is unrestrained in its +freedom save in so far as individual rights and the well-being +of society may be concerned; no class is oppressed +by inequitable burdens, and none endowed with exclusive +privileges; a rich soil, a prolific mineral region, a +climate unequaled for its salubrity, and a promising future, +afford profitable occupation, health, and happiness +to the whole community; none need suffer unless from +their own misconduct, or the visitation of the Supreme +Power by which all are ruled; and none need despond +who possess energy of character and the capacity to appreciate +the many blessings bestowed upon them. What +nation in Europe possesses a future at all, much less such +a future as that which lies before us? Russia may improve +and prosper to a certain extent; beyond that, no +human eye can discern the glimmerings of a higher and +more enlarged civilization. England has reached her +culminating point. The States of Germany—what future +have they? Alas! the past and the present must +answer. France—where is her future? Another revolution—another +emperor—another and another bloody +history of revolutions, barricades, kings, emperors, and +demagogues, reaching, so far as human eye can penetrate, +through the dim vistas of all time to come. If, on +the one side, we see the type of human perfection and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[185]</a></span> +the maturity of all worldly knowledge, and if we see on +the other only the presumption that springs from ignorance, +want of cultivation, or want of reverence for the +example of others, then I earnestly pray that we may +forever remain in our present benighted condition, or, +if we advance at all, that it may not be in the direction +taken by any of the governments of Europe. As our +present is unlike theirs, so I trust may be our future.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII.</h2> + +<h3>A BOND OF SYMPATHY.</h3> + + +<p>The Russians, doubtless, have a natural appetite for +tobacco, in common with all races of mankind, whether +Digger Indians, Caffirs, Hindoos, Persians, Turks, Americans, +or Dutchmen; for I never yet have met with a +people who did not take to the glorious weed, in some +shape or other, as naturally as a babe to its mother’s +breast. <i>Vodka</i>, or native brandy, is their favorite beverage, +when they can get it. In that respect, too, they +share a very common attribute of humanity—a passion +for strong drinks. Nevertheless, although the love of +intoxicating liquors is pretty general in Russia, the habit +of smoking which usually accompanies it is not so common +as in the more southern parts of Europe. A reason +for this may be found in the prohibitions established by +the government against the general use of tobacco. It +is true, any person who pleases may enjoy this luxury, +but by a rigid ukase of the emperor the restrictions +amount very nearly to an absolute prohibition, so far as +the common people are concerned. Smoking is prohibited +in the streets of every town and city throughout +the empire, and any infraction of the law in this respect, +whether by a native or foreigner, is visited by a heavy +penalty. I hear of several instances in St. Petersburg +and Moscow of arrests by the police for violations of the +imperial decree. The reason given by the Russians +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[186]</a></span> +themselves for this despotic regulation is, that the cities +being built mostly of wood, extensive and disastrous +conflagrations have arisen from carelessness in street-smoking. +It is difficult to see how the risk is lessened +in this way, for the prohibition does not extend to smoking +within doors. A carpenter may indulge his propensity +for cigars over a pile of shavings, provided it be in +his workshop, but he must not carry a lighted cigar in +his mouth on any of the public thoroughfares. The true +reason perhaps is, that the emperor considers it a useless +and expensive habit, and thus makes use of his imperial +power to discountenance it, as far as practicable, among +his subjects. They may drink <i>vodka</i> if they please, because +that only burns their insides out; but they must +not smoke cigars, as a general rule, because that impairs +their moral perceptions. Hence cigars are not permitted +to be sold at any of the tobacco-shops in packages of less +than ten. Few of the lower classes ever save up money +enough to buy ten cigars at a time, so that if they desire +to smoke they must go to a cheap groggery and indulge +in cheap cigaritos. Owing to the want of opportunity, +therefore, smoking is not a national characteristic, as in +Germany and the United States.</p> + +<p>This, I must confess, gave me a rather gloomy impression +of Russia, and accounted in some measure for the +grave and uncongenial aspect of the people. One always +likes to find some bond of sympathy between himself +and the inhabitants of the country through which he +travels. I remember reading somewhere of a Scotchman +who had occasion to visit the United States on +business connected with an establishment in Glasgow. +He was disgusted with the manners and customs of +the people; had no faith in their capacity for business; +found nothing to approve; considered them vulgar, impertinent, +irresponsible, and irreligious; and finally was +about to take his departure with these unfavorable views, +when he discovered, from some practical experience, that +they possessed, in addition to all these traits, wonderful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[187]</a></span> +shrewdness in the art of swindling. New dodges that +he had never dreamt of turned up in the line of debits +and credits; he was interested—delighted! A familiar +chord was touched. He retracted all he had said; +formed the most exalted opinion of the people; reluctantly +returned to Glasgow, and there made a fortune in +the course of a few years! It is said that he now swears +by the eternal Yankee nation—the only oath he was ever +known to make use of—and expresses a desire to settle +in the United States, if he can find a suitable part of the +country abounding in fogs, rain, sleet, snow, and wind.</p> + +<p>Somewhat akin to this is the affection with which a +traveler in a foreign land regards every mountain, tree, +or flower that reminds him of his own country. The +most pleasant parts of my experiences of mountain scenery +are those that most resemble similar experiences at +home. Some suggestion or hint of a familiar scene has +often caused me to enjoy what would otherwise perhaps +have attracted no particular attention. I remember +once, while traveling in Brazil, near the Falls of Tejuca, +some very pleasant scenes of early life came suddenly to +mind, without any thing that I could perceive at the +moment to give rise to such a train of thought. The +aspect of the country was different from any I had ever +seen before; and it was not till I discovered a bunch of +violets close by my feet that I became aware that it was +a familiar perfume which had so mysteriously carried me +back to by-gone days. On another occasion, when at +sea in the Indian Ocean, after many dreary months of +absence from home, I one day accidentally found in the +pocket of an old coat a paper of fine-cut chewing tobacco. +With what delight I grasped the glittering treasure +and applied it to my nose can only be conceived by a +true lover of the weed—I speak not of your voracious +chewers, who masticate this delectable narcotic as if it +were food for the stomach instead of nutriment for the +soul, but of the genuine devotee, who can appreciate the +divinest essence, the rarest delicacies of tone and touch, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[188]</a></span> +the most exquisite shades of sentiment in this wondrous +weed. What a luxury, after months of dreary longing—what +an oasis in the desert of life! No attar of roses +could be sweeter than that paper of fine-cut. I played +with it—just titillating the nostrils—for hours before I +dared to descend to the coarse process of chewing. And +then—ah heavens! can mortal mixture ever equal that +first chew again! How bright and beautiful the world +looked! What happy remembrances I reveled in all that +day, of serenades, and oyster-suppers, and pretty girls, +and a thousand other fascinations of early youth, all of +which grew out of a paper of fine-cut.</p> + +<p>My experiences in Sweden were even more delightful +in this respect than in Russia. At Stockholm I saw +drunken men every day, and at Gottenburg it was the +prevailing trait. The trouble was to see a man who +was not laboring under a pressure of bricks in his hat. +On one occasion I must have seen in the course of a single +afternoon several hundred reeling home in the highest +possible condition of ecstasy—either that, or the +streets were so badly paved, and the roads so devious +and undulating, that they made people stagger to keep +straight. It was on the occasion of a fair, and may perhaps +have been an exception to the general rule. One +thing is certain—it looked very natural, and made me +cotton wonderfully to these good people. There was +something really homelike in a reeling, staggering crowd—their +shouts and uproarious songs, their boozy faces +and tobacco-stained months. Every body seemed to be +on a regular “bender.” The only point of difference +between the Swedish and the California “bender” was +in the way the boys hugged and kissed the peasant-girls; +but even in this respect a similitude may sometimes be +found in the vicinity of the Indian Reservations, where +I have seen Digger damsels treated quite as affectionately. +However, it was all right, so long as both parties +were willing. I rather liked the Gottenburg custom +myself—as a spectator, of course.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[189]</a></span> +My last and perhaps most agreeable experience connected +with the pleasures of sympathy occurred in Norway, +on the road from Christiania to Trondhjem. With +profound humiliation I make the confession that I have +never yet been able to eradicate a natural passion for +tobacco. Once, after reading the Rev. Dr. Cox’s terrific +book on the Horrors of Tobacco, in which it was conclusively +shown that a single drop of the oil of this noxious +weed put upon a cat’s tongue killed the cat, I resolved +to master this vicious propensity for poison. For +six months I neither smoked, snuffed, nor chewed. But +it came back somehow. Care, I think, revived it, and +every body knows that care, as well as tobacco, killed a +cat. A man might as well be killed one way as another. +We must all eat our peck of dirt, and in some shape or +other swallow our peck of poison. One learned gentleman +proves that tobacco is poison; another, that coffee +and tea are equally fatal; another, that meat is no better, +and so on; our food and drink are pretty much composed +of poison, so that we are constantly killing ourselves, +and the result is, we die at last. Still, it is marvelous +how long some people survive all these deadly +stimulants; how fat and hearty the Germans are in spite +of their meerschaums; how wonderfully the French survive +their strong coffee; how the Russians deluge their +stomachs with hot tea and yet still live; how the English +get over their porter and brown stout; and how +long it takes the various poisons to which the various +nations of the earth are addicted to produce any sensible +diminution in the population. Sometimes I am inclined +to think people would die if they never ate a particle of +any thing—either food or poison. It seems to be one +of those debts that we incur on coming into the world, +and can only discharge by going out of it.</p> + +<p>All of which leads you gradually to the main point—my +experience in Norway. First, however, I must tell +you that on my arrival in Europe, not being able to find +a plug of genuine Cavendish, I was forced to satisfy the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[190]</a></span> +cravings of this morbid appetite by nibbling bad cigars. +But a new difficulty soon became manifest—there was +not a spot in all Germany where it was possible to get +rid of a quid without attracting undue attention. No +man likes to be stared at as an outlaw against the recognized +decencies of life. One may smoke cigars under +a lady’s nose, dress like a popinjay, or kiss his bearded +friend in most Continental cities, but he must not chew +tobacco, because it is considered a barbarous and filthy +habit. He may guzzle beer, take snuff, and wear dirty +shirts, but if he would avoid reproach as an unclean animal +he must abandon his quids. Now, as a general rule, +I dislike to violate public sentiment, or inconvenience +people with whom I associate. If they are nonsensical +and inconsistent in their notions, I agree with them for +the sake of harmony, if not for politeness. Nothing +pleases me better than to annoy an Englishman by doing +every thing that he most dislikes, because he makes it a +point to be disagreeable and unmannerly; carries his +nationality wherever he goes, and it does me good to +furnish him with material for criticism. Out of pure +good nature, I meet him half way; chew and spit that +he may grumble, and put my legs over the back of the +nearest chair to see him enjoy a good hearty fit of disgust, +and talk loud that he may find material for ill-natured +reflections on American manners—all of which, +I know, is exactly what obliges him. It affords him +such undeniable grounds for the depreciation of others, +and the indulgence of his own weak vanity!</p> + +<p>In like manner I obliged my German friends, who, +however, are altogether different in their exactions, and +only require Americans to drop all their uncivilized habits, +and become like themselves—quiet, decent, and respectable +old fogies. Therefore I obeyed the laws, +doffed my savage California costume, quit whisky, took +to beer, avoided all passages of tenderness toward the +female sex, and herded mostly with men. For a time, +however, I held on to my beloved quid of cigar. It was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[191]</a></span> +such a solace in the midst of all these privations! But, +alas! I had to give that up too; there was not a spot in +all Germany suitable for the purpose of expectoration! +The floors of the houses are so dreadfully clean—not a +piece of carpet bigger than a rug to sit upon; the porcelain +stoves so inaccessible; the windows always shut; +every nook and corner blazing with little ornaments; +the lady of the house so severely conscious of every +movement; even the little earthen pans near the stove, +filled with white sand nicely smoothed over to represent +salt-cellars—the ostensible spittoons of the establishment—staring +one in the face with a cold, steady gaze amounting +to a positive prohibition—no, the thing was impossible! +I saw plainly that a good, old-fashioned squirt of +tobacco-juice would ruin such a country as this, where +every room in every house was inimical to the habit, +and every speck of ground throughout the length and +breadth of the land adapted to some useful or ornamental +purpose. Why, sir, I assure you that in the little +duchy of Nassau—where it is said the grand-duke is unable +to exercise his soldiers at target-shooting without +obtaining permission to place the target in some neighboring +state—I found the garden-walks and public roads +so fearfully clean, every leaf and twig being swept up +daily, and preserved to manure the duchy, that during +a pedestrian tour of three days I was absolutely ashamed +to spit any where. There was no possible chance of +doing it without expunging a soldier or a policeman, or +disfiguring the entire province. The result was, between +tobacco-juice, salt water, iron water, sulphur water, soda-water, +and all other sorts of water that came out of the +earth from Brunnens of Nassau, I got home as thin as a +snake, and was forced to deny myself even the poor consolation +of a Frankfort cigar. So matters went on for +nearly a year. I became a morose and melancholy man. +This will account for all the bitter and ill-natured things +I said of the Germans in some of my sketches, every +word of which I now retract.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[192]</a></span> +But to come to the point of the narrative. In the due +course of a vagabond life, after visiting Russia and Sweden, +I found myself one day on the road from Lillehammer +to the Dorre Fjeld in Norway. I sat in a little +cariole—an old peasant behind. The scenery was sublime. +Poetry crept over my inmost soul. The old man +leaned over and said something. Great heavens! What +a combination of luxuries! His breath smelled of whisky +and tobacco. I was enchanted. I turned and gazed +fondly and affectionately in his withered old face. Two +streams of rich juice coursed down his furrowed chin. +His leathery and wrinkled mouth was besmeared with +the precious fluid; his eyes rolled foolishly in his head; +he hung on to the cariole with a trembling and unsteady +hand; a delicious odor pervaded the entire man. I saw +that he was a congenial soul—cottoned to him at once—grasped +him by the hand—swore he was the first civilized +human I had met in all my travels through Europe—and +called upon him, in the name of the great American +brotherhood of chewers, to pass me a bite of his tobacco. +From that moment we were the best of friends. +The old man dived into the depths of a greasy pocket, +pulled out a roll of black pigtail, and with joy beaming +from every feature, saw me tear from it many a goodly +mouthful. We talked—he in Norwegian, I in a mixture +of German and English; we chewed; we spat; we laughed +and joked; we forgot all the discrepancies of age, +nativity, condition, and future prospects; in short, we +were brothers, by the sublime and potent free-masonry +of tobacco. All that day my senses were entranced. I +saw nothing but familiar faces, gulches, cañons, bar-rooms, +and boozy stage-drivers; smelt nothing but whisky +and tobacco in every flower by the wayside; aspired +to nothing but Congress and the suffrages of my fellow-citizens. +I was once again in my own, my beloved California.</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Such is the patriot’s boast, where’er we roam,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His first, best country ever is at home.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[193]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX.</h2> + +<h3>CIVILIZATION IN RUSSIA.</h3> + + +<p>It may be a little startling to set out with the general +proposition that Russia is not only very far from being +a civilized country, but that it never can be one in the +highest sense of the term. The remark of Peter the +Great, that distance was the only serious obstacle to be +overcome in the civilization of Russia, was such as might +well be made by a monarch of iron will and unparalleled +energy, at whose bidding a great city arose out of the +swamps of Courland, where Nature never intended a +city to stand. But the remark is not true in point of +fact. Distance can be annihilated, or nearly so; and although +Peter the Great was probably aware of that fact, +he might well have reasoned that facility of intercommunication +is not so much the cause as the result of civilization. +The wilderness may be made to blossom as +the rose through human agency, but it can only be done +by divine permission. I think that permission has been +withheld in the case of a very considerable portion of +Russia. No human power can successfully contend +against the depressing influences of a climate scarcely +paralleled for its rigor. Where there are four months +of a summer, to which the scorching heats of Africa can +scarcely bear a comparison, and from six to eight months +of a polar winter, it is utterly impossible that the moral +and intellectual faculties of man can be brought to the +highest degree of perfection. There must, of course, always +be exceptions to every general rule; but even in +the dark and bloody history of Russia we find that the +exceptions of superior intelligence and enlightenment +have been chiefly confined to those who availed themselves +of the advantages afforded by more temperate +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[194]</a></span> +climes. Peter himself, the greatest of the Czars, and +certainly the most gifted of his race in point of intellect, +perfected his education in other countries, and in all his +grand enterprises of improvement availed himself of the +intellect and experience of other races. Every important +improvement introduced into Russia during his +reign was the product of some other country, executed +under foreign supervision. This, perhaps, more than +any thing else, may be said to afford the most striking +evidence of the enlarged and progressive character of +his mind. Yet the very same practice has been followed +to a greater or less extent by all his successors, and still, +with the exception of a railroad built by Americans, a +telegraph system, a few French fashions, and a movement +professing to have for its object the emancipation +of the serfs, the country, beyond the limits of the sea-port +districts and those parts bordering on the States +of Germany, has advanced but little toward civilization +since the reign of Peter.</p> + +<p>With such a vast extent of territory, and such a variety +of climates as it must necessarily embrace, it may +seem rather a broad assertion to say that climate can be +any obstacle to Russian civilization; but let us glance +for a moment at the general character of the country. +Between the sixtieth and seventy-eighth degrees of north +latitude, embracing a considerable portion of European +and Asiatic Russia, the winters are exceedingly long and +severe, the summers so short that but little dependence +can be placed upon crops. The greater part of this region +consists of lakes, swamps, forests of pine, and extensive +and barren plains. The mines of Siberia may be +regarded as the most valuable feature in this desolate +region. The production of flax and hemp in the province +of Petersburg, and the lumber products of the forests +which are accessible to the capital, give some importance +to such portions as border on the southern and +European limit of this great belt; but its general features +are opposed to agricultural progress. Whatever +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[195]</a></span> +of civilization can exist within it must be of forced +growth, and be maintained under the most adverse circumstances. +South of this, between the fifty-fifth and +sixtieth degrees of latitude, comes a still wider and more +extensive region, comprising St. Petersburg, Riga, Moscow, +Smolensk, and a portion of Irkutsk and Nijni Novgorod. +Here the summers are longer and the winters +not quite so severe; but a large portion of the country +consists of forests, sterile plains, and extensive marshes, +and much of it is entirely unfit for cultivation. The +European portions are well settled, and corn, flax, and +hemp are produced wherever the land is available, and +large bands of cattle roam over many parts of the country. +In its general aspect, however, considering the duration +and severity of the winters, and the large proportion +of unavailable lands, I do not think it can ever +become very productive in an agricultural point of +view. Between fifty and fifty-five degrees latitude, embracing +the valley of the Volga, is a more favored region, +abounding in fertile lands, and the summers are longer, +but the winters are still severe, especially in the eastern +portions. From latitude forty-three to fifty, embracing +portions of Kief, the Caucasus, and other southern possessions +of the empire, the winters are comparatively +temperate, and the summers warm and long; but here, +again, a great portion of this country consists of mountains, +arid plains, and deserts, and it is subject to extreme +and terrible droughts. Here is a vast extent of territory, +comprising about one hundred and sixty-five degrees +of longitude and thirty-five of latitude, which contains +within its limits a greater variety of bad climates, and a +greater amount of land unavailable for any purposes of +human life, than any equal compass of territory upon +the globe, if we except Africa, which is at least doubtful. +Within the limits of this vast, and, for the most part, +inhospitable region, we find nearly all the races who, as +far back as the history of mankind dates, have been the +most addicted to predatory wars, and the indulgence of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[196]</a></span> +every savage propensity growing out of an untamable +nature—Tartars, Cossacks, gipsies, Turks, Circassians, +Georgians, etc., and the Russians proper, whose wild +Sclavonic blood contains very nearly all the vices and +virtues that circulate through the veins of all these +races, besides many enterprising and unscrupulous traits +of character to which the inferior tribes could never aspire. +Here we have a mixed population, estimated in +1856 at seventy-one millions, including North American +possessions and tributary tribes, a great part of it composed +of totally incongruous elements, and with a variety +of religions, embracing about nine millions of Roman, +Armenian, and irregular Greek Catholics, Lutherans, +Mohammedans, Israelites, and Buddhists—the national +creed being the Greco-Russe, which, it is estimated, +is professed by about fifty millions of the inhabitants, +including, of course, infants and young children, +and many others who know nothing about it. To keep +all these incongruous elements in order, and provide +against foreign invasion, requires a standing army of +577,859 troops “for grand operations,” as the last almanac +expresses it, besides various <i>corps de reserve</i>, and a +navy of 186 from steamers, 41 large sailing vessels, and +numerous gun-boats and smaller vessels, in the Baltic, +the Black Sea, the Caspian Sea, the White Sea, and the +Sea of Azof. More than seven eighths of these are +frozen up and totally unavailable for six months every +year. It is estimated that, after allowing for the forces +necessary to protect the home possessions of the empire, +of which Russian Poland is the most troublesome, the +number of troops that can be brought into active offensive +operation does not, under ordinary circumstances, exceed +two hundred thousand men, and it must be obvious, +considering that Russia has but little external sea-board, +and must submit to the rigors of a climate which +locks up the best part of her navy at least half of every +year, that she can never attain any great strength as a +naval power. I am inclined to believe, therefore, that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[197]</a></span> +while this great nation, or combination of nations, is, +from the very nature of its climate and topography, almost +impregnable to foreign invasion, it can never become +a very formidable power at any great distance from +home; and there are considerations connected with its +form of government, and the difficulty or impracticability +of changing it, which, in my opinion, forms an insuperable +obstacle to the education of the people, and +such general dissemination of intelligence among the +masses as will entitle them to take the highest rank +among civilized nations. Nor does the history of Russia +during past ages afford much encouragement for a +different view of the future. Democracy existed for +several centuries before the country became subject to +despotic rule, and from the ninth to the fifteenth century +the aristocracy possessed no hereditary privileges; +the offices of state were accessible to all, and the peasantry +enjoyed personal liberty. It was not until the reign +of Peter the Great—the high-priest of civilization—that +the serfs became absolute slaves subject to sale, with or +without the lands upon which they lived. In respect to +political liberty, there has been little, if any advance +since the reign of the Empress Catherine, who accorded +some elective privileges to certain classes of her subjects +in the provinces, and reduced the administration of the +laws to something like a system. The absurd pretense +of Alexander I. in according to the Senate the right of +remonstrating against imperial decrees is perfectly in +keeping with all grants of power made by the sovereigns +of Russia to their subjects. There is not, and can +not be in the nature of things, a limited despotism. As +soon as the subjects possess constitutional rights at all +binding upon the supreme authority, it becomes another +form of government. The great difficulty in Russia is, +that the sovereign can not divest himself of any substantial +part of his power without adding to that of the nobles +and the aristocracy, who are already, by birth, position, +and instinct, the class most to be feared, and most +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[198]</a></span> +inimical to the process of freedom. It is not altogether +the ignorance of the masses, therefore, that forms an +insuperable barrier to the introduction of more liberal +institutions, but the wealth, intelligence, and influence +of the higher classes, who neither toil nor spin, but derive +their support from the labor of the masses whom +they hold in subjection. It is natural enough they +should oppose every reform tending to elevate these +subordinate classes upon whom they are dependent for +all the powers and luxuries of their position. Admitting +that the present emperor may have a leaning toward +free institutions, and possibly contemplate educating +forty or fifty millions of his subjects to run him into +the Presidency of Russia, it is obvious that the path is +very thorny, and that the position will be well earned if +ever he gets there. But these acts of sovereign condescension, +although they read very well in newspapers, +and serve to entertain mankind with vague ideas of the +progress of freedom, are generally the essence of an intense +egotism, and amount to nothing more than cunning +devices to subvert what little of liberty their subjects +may be likely to extort from them by the maintenance +of their rights. I do not say that Alexander II. +is governed by these motives, but, having no faith in +kings or despots of any kind, however good they may +be, I can see no reason why he should prove any better +than his predecessors. Upon this point let me tell you +an anecdote. You are aware, perhaps, that the Finns +have a Constitution which allows them to do what they +please, provided it be pleasing to the emperor. Like +the ukase of Alexander I. to the Senate, and all similar +grants of authority, it is not worth the parchment upon +which it is written, and in its practical operation is no +better than a practical joke. The Finns, however, are a +brave, simple minded, and rather superstitious people, +and take some pride in this Constitution. It is the +ghost of liberty at all events, and they indulge in the +hope that some day or other it will fish up the dead +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[199]</a></span> +body. Not more than a few weeks ago, a small party +of these worthy people, on their way to Stockholm for +purposes of business or pleasure, were arrested and put +in prison by the Russian authorities on the supposition +that they differed from the emperor in his interpretation +of this liberal Constitution, and were going to Sweden +to lay their grievances before their old compatriots. It +is quite possible that this was true. I heard complaints +made when I was in Helsingfors that there was quite a +difference of opinion on the subject. But it is a marvel +how they could misunderstand their right under the +Constitution, when there is a strong military force stationed +at the principal cities of Finland to make it intelligible. +So thought the emperor or his subordinates, +and put them in jail to give them light. The point in +the transaction which strikes me most forcibly is, that a +power like that of Russia, after having wrested the province +of Finland from Sweden, with an army and navy +far inferior to what she now possesses, should be afraid +that a handful of Finns should tell a pitiful tale to the +King of Sweden, and prevail upon him to take their +country back again. If this be the freedom granted under +the free Constitution of Finland, the restraints upon +personal liberty must be pretty stringent in dependencies +where no Constitutions at all exist.</p> + +<p>By a natural law, the waves of despotism gather +strength and volume as they spread from the central +power. It is scarcely an exaggeration to say that the +Autocrat of Russia is the least despotic of all the despots +in authority. The landed proprietors in the remote +provinces too often rule their dependents with an iron +rod, and the strong arm of the supreme authority is more +frequently exercised in the protection than in the oppression +of the lower classes. The tribunals of justice in +these districts are corrupt, and the laws, as they are administered +by the subordinate officers of the government, +afford but little chance of justice to the ignorant masses. +The landed proprietors are subjected to various exactments +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[200]</a></span> +and oppressions from the governors, and these +again are at the mercy of the various colleges or departments +above them, and so on up to the imperial council +and imperial presence. Each class or grade becomes independent, +despotic, and corrupt in proportion as they +recede from the central authority, having a greater latitude +of power, and being less apprehensive of punishment +for its abuse. In truth, the nobles and aristocracy +are the immediate oppressors of the ignorant masses, +who are taught to regard them as demigods, and bow +down before them in slavish abasement. Now and then, +in extreme cases, where the autocrat discovers abuses +which threaten to impair his authority, he sends some of +these aspiring gentlemen on a tour of pleasure to Siberia, +and thus practically demonstrates that there is a ruling +power in the land. As all authority emanates from him, +and all responsibility rests with him, so all justice, liberality, +fair dealing, and humanity are apt to find in a good +sovereign, under such a system, their best friend and +most conscientious supporter. The success of his government, +the prosperity and happiness of his people, even +the perpetuity of the entire political system, depend upon +the judicious and equitable use which he makes of his +power. There are limits to human forbearance, as sovereigns +have discovered by this time. The Czar is but +a man, a mere mortal, after all, and can only hold his authority +through the consent, indifference, or ignorance of +his subjects; but should he oppress them by extraordinary +punishments or exactions, or withdraw from them +his protection against the petty tyranny of his subordinates, +he would find, sooner or later, that the most degraded +can be aroused to resentment. It is the belief +on the part of the peasantry, of which the population of +Russia is in so large a part formed, that the emperor is +their friend—that he does not willingly or unnecessarily +deprive them of their liberties. This tends to keep them +in subjection. Indeed, they have but faint notions of +liberty, if any at all, born as they are to a condition of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[201]</a></span> +servitude, and reared in abject submission to the governing +authorities. They are generally well satisfied if they +can get enough to eat; and, when they are not subjected +to cruel and unusual abuses, are comparatively happy.</p> + +<p>The unreasonable assumptions of power on the part +of their immediate governing authorities present a trait +common to mankind. We know from experience in our +own country that the negro-driver on a Southern plantation—a +slave selected from slaves—is often more tyrannical +in the use of authority than the overseer or owner. +We know that there are hard and unfeeling overseers +on many plantations, where the owner is comparatively +mild and humane. So far as he knows any thing of the +details of his own affairs, his natural disposition accords +with his interest, and he is favorable to the kind treatment +of his slaves. But he can not permit them to become +intelligent beings. They may study all the mechanical +arts which may be useful to him—become blacksmiths, +carpenters, or machinists, but they must not learn +that they are held in servitude, and that the Almighty +has given him no natural right to live upon their earnings, +or enjoy his pleasure or power at the expense of +their labor and their freedom. The same condition of +things, with some variation, of course, arising from differences +of climate and races, exists in Russia, and the +results are not altogether dissimilar. We find idleness, +lack of principle, overbearing manners, ignorance, and +sensualism a very common characteristic of the superior +classes, mingled though it may be with a show of fine +manners, and such trivial and superficial accomplishments +as may be obtained without much labor. It is a +great negro plantation on a large scale, in which the +gradation of powers has a depressing tendency, causing +them to increase in rigor as they descend, like a stone +dropped from a height, which at first might be caught +in the open hand, but soon acquires force enough to +brain an ox.</p> + +<p>One of the effects of the strong coercive powers of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[202]</a></span> +government is perceptible in this, that the greatest latitude +prevails in every thing that does not interfere with +the maintenance of political authority; and although it +is difficult, in such a country, to find much that comes +within that category, occasional exceptions may be found. +Thus drunkenness, debauchery, indecency, and reckless, +prodigal, and filthy habits, are but little regarded, while +the slightest approach to the acquisition of a liberal education, +or the expression of liberal opinions on any subject +connected with public polity, is rigidly prohibited. +Most of the English newspapers are excluded from the +empire, although if admitted they would have but few +general readers among the Russians—certainly not many +among the middle or lower classes. No publication on +political economy, no work of any kind relating to the +science of government or the natural rights of man; +nothing, in short, calculated to impair the faith of the +people in the necessity of their political servitude, is permitted +to enter the country without a most careful examination. +A rigid censorship is exercised over the +press, the libraries, the public colleges, the schools, and +all institutions having in view the education of the people +and the dissemination of intelligence. The Censorial +Bureau is in itself an important branch of the government, +having its representatives diffused throughout every +province, in every public institution, and even extending +its ramifications into the sacred realms of private +life; for it is a well-known fact that a family can +not employ a private tutor whose antecedents and political +proclivities have not undergone the scrutiny and received +the official sanction of the censorial authorities.</p> + +<p>How can a country, under such circumstances, be expected +to take a high rank among the enlightened nations +of the earth? The very germ of its existence is +founded in the suppression of intelligence. It may enjoy +a limited advancement, but there can be no great progress +in any direction which does not tend at the same +time to the subversion of a despotic rule. Even the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[203]</a></span> +theatres, operas, <i>cafés</i>, and all places of public amusement, +are under the same rigid surveillance. No play +can be performed, no opera given, no <i>café</i> opened, no +garden amusements offered to the public, unless under +the supervision and with the sanction of the censorial +authorities. In all well-regulated communities there +must be, of course, some local or municipal restrictions +respecting popular amusements, based upon a regard for +public morals, but in this case the question of morality +is not taken into much account. Provided there is nothing +politically objectionable in the performance, and it +has no tendency to make the people better acquainted +with the rottenness of courts, the selfishness, wickedness, +and insincerity of men in authority, and their own rights +as human beings—provided the theme be <i>Jishn za Zara</i>—“Your +life for your Czar,” or the exhibition a voluptuous +display—provided it be merely a matter of abject +adulation or fashionable sensation, the most fastidious +censor can find no fault with it. What, then, does the +education of the masses amount to? We read of lectures +for the diffusion of knowledge among the people; +of colleges for young men; of various institutions of +learning; of a liberal system of common schools for the +poor. All this is very well in its way. A little light +is better than none when the road is crooked, and the +country abounds in ruts and deep pitfalls. But the +lights shed by these institutions are much obscured by +the official glasses through which they shine. The building +of fortifications; the manufacture of gunpowder; +the use of guns and swords; the beauties of rhetoric +abounding in the drill manual; the eloquence of batteries +and broadsides; the poetry of ditching and draining; +the ethics of primary obedience to the authorities, +and afterward to God and reason; all that pertains to +rapine, bloodshed, and wholesale murder—the noble art +of mutilating men in the most effective manner, and the +best method of cutting them up or putting them together +again when that is done; the horrid sin of using one’s +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[204]</a></span> +own lights on any internal problem of right or wrong, +religion or public policy, when the emperor, in the plenitude +of his generosity, furnishes light enough out of his +individual head for sixty-five millions of people—these +are the principal themes upon which the intellects of the +rising generation of Russia are nourished. In the primary +schools a select and authorized few are taught +reading, writing, and arithmetic, but they seldom get +much farther, and not always that far, before subordinate +positions in the army or navy are found for them. +Their education is indeed very limited, and may be set +down as an exception to the general ignorance.</p> + +<p>It will thus be seen that the whole system of education +has but one object in view, the maintenance of a military +despotism. In this it would scarcely be reasonable to +search for cause of complaint. Doubtless the acquisition +of knowledge is encouraged as far as may be consistent +with public security and public peace. But it is obvious +that under such a system these people can never emerge +from their condition of semi-barbarism. They must continue +behind the spirit of the age in all that pertains to +the highest order of civilization. Science, in a limited +sense, may find a few votaries; the arts may be cultivated +to a certain degree; a feeble school of literature +may attain the eminence of a national feature; but there +can be no general expansion of the intellectual faculties, +no enlarged and comprehensive views of life and of human +affairs. Whatever these people do must be subservient +to military rule; beyond that there can be little +advance save in what is palpable to the grosser senses, +or what panders to the savagery of their nature. A +statesman or a philosopher, with independence enough +to think and speak the truth if his views differed from +those of the constituted authorities, would be a very +dangerous character, and be very apt to pursue his career, +in company with all who have hitherto aspired to +distinction in that way, beyond the confines of Siberia. +Russia may produce many Karasmins to write glowing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[205]</a></span> +histories of her wars and conquests, but her Burkes, her +Pitts, and her Foxes will be few, and her Shakspeares +and her Bacons fewer still. Her Pascal’s Reflections will +be tinged with Siberian horrors; her Young’s Night +Thoughts will be of the dancing damsels of St. Petersburg; +her Vicars of Wakefield will abound in the genial +humor of devils and dragons, saints and tortures; and +the wit of her Sidney Smiths will have a crack of the +knout about it, skinning men’s back’s rather than their +backslidings; effective only when it draws human blood, +and best approved by the censors when it strikes at human +freedom.</p> + +<p>We find the results of such a system strongly marked +upon the general character. While equals are jealous +of each other, inferiors are slavish and superiors tyrannical. +It is often the case that overbearing manners and +abject humility are centred in the same class or person. +Thus the Camarilla are overbearing to the bureaucracy, +the bureaucracy to the provincial nobility, and the provincial +nobility to the inferior classes. As I said before, +it is a sliding-scale of despotism. The worst feature of +it is seen in the treatment of women. Among the better +classes conventionality has, doubtless, somewhat meliorated +their condition. Absolute physical cruelty would +be, perhaps, a violation of etiquette and good breeding; +but neglect, selfishness, innate coarseness of thought, and +a general want of chivalrous appreciation, are too common +in the treatment of Russian women not to strike +the most casual observer. Certainly the impressions of +one who has been taught from infancy to regard the +gentler sex as entitled to the most profound respect and +chivalrous devotion—to look upon them as beings of a +more delicate essence than man, yet infinitely superior in +those moral attributes which rise so high above intellect +or physical power—are not favorable to the assumptions +of Russian civilization. Yet, since the condition of woman +is but little better in any part of Europe, it may be +that this is one of the fashions imported from France or +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[206]</a></span> +Germany, and since these two claim to be the most polite +and cultivated nations in existence, it is even possible +that the Americans—a rude people, who have not +yet had time to polish their manners or perfect their customs—may +be mistaken in their estimate of the ladies, +and will, some day or other, become more Europeanized.</p> + +<p>But, in all fairness, if the Russians be a little uncouth +in their way, they possess, like bears, a wonderful aptness +in learning to dance; if the brutal element is strong +in their nature, so also is the capacity to acquire frivolous +and meretricious accomplishments. Like all races in +which the savage naturally predominates, they delight +in the glitter of personal decoration, the allurements of +music, dancing, and the gambling-table, and all the luxuries +of idleness and sensuous folly—traits which they +share pretty generally with the rest of mankind. Tropical +gardens, where the thermometer is twenty degrees +below zero; feasts and frolics that in a single night may +leave them beggars for life; military shows; the smoke +and carnage of battle; the worship of their saints and +Czars—these are their chief pleasures and most genial +occupations.</p> + +<p>But, with all this folly and prodigality, there is really +a great deal of native generosity in the Russian character. +Liberal to a fault in every thing but the affairs of government, +they freely bestow their wealth upon charitable +institutions, and, whether rich or poor, are ever ready +to extend the hand of relief to the distresses of their +fellow-creatures. It is rarely they hoard their gains. +There are few who do not live up to the full measure +of their incomes, and most of them very far beyond. +Whether they spend their means for good or for evil, +they are at least free from the groveling sin of stinginess. +I never met more than one stingy Russian to my knowledge; +but let him go. He reaped his reward in the dislike +of all who knew him. Toward each other, even the +beggars are liberal. There is nothing little or contemptible +in the Russian character. Overbearing and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[207]</a></span> +despotic they may be; deficient in the gentler traits which +grace a more cultivated people; but meanness is not +one of their failings. In this they present a striking contrast +to a large and influential portion of their North +German neighbors, for whose sordid souls Beelzebub +might search in vain through the desert wastes that lie +upon the little end of a cambric needle.</p> + +<p>In some respects the Russians evince a more enlarged +appreciation of the world’s progress than many of their +European neighbors. They have no fixed prejudices +against mechanical improvements of any kind. Quick +to appreciate every advance in the useful arts, they are +ever ready to accept and put in practical operation whatever +they see in other countries better than the product +of their own. Thus they adopt English and American +machinery, railways, telegraphs, improvements in artillery, +and whatever else they deem beneficial, or calculated +to augment their prosperity and power as a nation. +While in Germany it would be almost an impossibility +to introduce the commonest and most obvious improvement +in the mechanical arts—if we except railways and +telegraphs, which have become a military and political +necessity, growing out of the progress of neighboring +powers—while many of their fabrics are still made by +hand, and their mints, presses, and fire-engines are of +almost primeval clumsiness, the Russians eagerly grasp +at all novelties, and are wonderfully quick in the comprehension +of their uses and advantages. A similar +comparison might be made in reference to the freedom +of internal trade, and the encouragement given to every +industrial pursuit among the people, being the exact reverse +of the policy pursued by the German governments. +Thus, while we find them backward in the refinements +of literature and intellectual culture, it is beyond doubt +that they possess wonderful natural capacity to learn. +They lack steadiness and perseverance, and are not always +governed by the best motives; but in boldness of +spirit, disregard of narrow prejudice, ability to conceive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[208]</a></span> +and execute what they desire to accomplish, they have +few equals and no superiors. Combined with these admirable +traits, their wild Sclavonic blood abounds in elements +which, upon great occasions, arise to the eminence +of a sublime heroism. Brave and patriotic, devoted to +their country and their religion, we search the pages of +history in vain for a parallel to their sacrifices in the defense +of both. Not even the wars of the Greeks and +Romans can produce such an example of heroic devotion +to the maintenance of national integrity as the burning +of Moscow. When an entire people, devoted to their +religion, gave up their churches and their shrines to the +devouring element; when princes and nobles placed the +burning brands to their palaces; when bankers, merchants, +and tradesmen freely yielded up their hard-earned +gains; when women and children joined the great work +of destruction to deliver their country from the hands +of a ruthless invader, it may well be said of that sublime +flame—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Thou stand’st alone unrivall’d, till the fire,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To come, in which all empires shall expire.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Truly, when we glance back at the national career of +the Russians, they can not but strike us as a wonderful +people. While we must condemn their cruelty and rapacity; +while we can see nothing to excuse in their ferocious +persecution of the Turks; while the greater part +of their history is a bloody record of injustice to weaker +nations, we can not but admire their indomitable courage, +their intense and unalterable attachment to their +brave old Czars, and their sublime devotion to their religion +and their nationality.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[209]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX.</h2> + +<h3>PASSAGE TO REVEL.</h3> + + +<p>It was not without a feeling of regret that I took my +departure from St. Petersburg. Short as my visit to +Russia had been, it was full of interest. Not a single +day had been idly or unprofitably spent. Indeed, I know +of no country that presents so many attractions to the +traveler who takes pleasure in novelties of character and +peculiarities of manners and customs. The lovers of picturesque +scenery will find little to gratify his taste in a +mere railroad excursion to Moscow; but with ample +time and means at his disposal, a journey to the Ural +Mountains, or a voyage down the Volga to the Caspian +Sea, would doubtless be replete with interest. For my +part, much as I enjoy the natural beauties of a country +through which I travel, they never afford me as much +pleasure as the study of a peculiar race of people. Mere +scenery, however beautiful, becomes monotonous, unless +it be associated with something that gives it a varied +and striking human interest. The mountains and lakes +of Scotland derive their chief attractions from the wild +legends of romance and chivalry so inseparably connected +with them; and Switzerland would be but a dreary +desert of glaciers without its history. In Russia, Nature +has been less prodigal in her gifts; and the real interest +of the country centres in its public institutions, the religious +observances of the people, and the progress of +civilization under a despotic system of government. Of +these I have endeavored to give you such impressions +as may be derived from a sojourn of a few weeks in +Moscow and St. Petersburg—necessarily imperfect and +superficial, but I trust not altogether destitute of amusing +features.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[210]</a></span> +On a pleasant morning in August, I called for my +“rechnung” at the German gasthaus on the Wasseli-Ostrow. +The bill was complicated in proportion to its +length. There was an extra charge of fifteen kopeks a +day for the room over and above the amount originally +specified. That was conscientious cheating, so I made +no complaint. Then there was a charge for two candles +when I saw but one, and always went to bed by +daylight. That was customary cheating, and could not +be disputed. Next came an item for beefsteaks, when, +to the best of my knowledge and belief, nothing but +veal cutlets, which were also duly specified, ever passed +my lips in any part of Russia. Upon that I ventured a +remonstrance, but gave in on the assurance that it was +Russian beefsteak. I was too glad to have any ground +for believing that it was not Russian dog. Next came +an item for police commissions. All that work I had +done myself, and therefore was entitled to demur. It +appeared that a man was kept for that purpose, and +when he was not employed he expected remuneration +for the disappointment. Then there was an item for +domestic service, when the only service rendered was to +black my boots, for which I had already paid. No matter; +it was customary, so I gave in. Then came sundry +bottles of wine. I never drink wine. “But,” said the +proprietor, “it was on the table.” Not being able to +dispute that, I abandoned the question of wine. Various +ices were in the bill. I had asked for a lump of ice +in a glass of water on several occasions, supposing it to +be a common article in a country on the edge of the Arctic +circle, but for every lump of ice the charge was ten +kopeks. Upon this principle, I suppose they attach an +exorbitant value to thawed water during six months of +the year, when the Neva is a solid block of ice. I find +that ice is an uncommonly costly luxury in Northern +Europe, where there is a great deal of it. In Germany +it is ranked with fresh water and other deadly poisons; +in Russia it costs too much for general use; and in Norway +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[211]</a></span> +and Sweden, where the snow-capped mountains are +always in sight, the people seem to be unacquainted +with the use of iced water, or, indeed, any other kind of +water as a beverage in summer. They drink brandy +and schnapps to keep themselves cool. However, I got +through the bill at last, without loss of temper, being +satisfied it was very reasonable for St. Petersburg. Having +paid for every article real and imaginary; paid each +servant individually for looking at me; then paid for domestic +services generally; paid the proprietor for speaking +his native language, which was German, and the +commissioner for wearing a brass band on his cap, and +bowing several times as I passed out, the whole matter +was amicably concluded, and, with my knapsack on my +back, I wended my way down to the steam-boat landing +of the Wasseli-Ostrow. As I was about to step on +board the Russian steamer bound for Revel—an eager +crowd of passengers pressing in on the plankway from +all sides—I was forcibly seized by the arm. Supposing +it to be an arrest for some unconscious violation of the +police regulations, a ghastly vision of Siberia flashed +upon my mind as I turned to demand an explanation. +But it was not a policeman who arrested me—it was +only my friend, Herr Batz, the rope-maker, who, with a +flushed face and starting eyes, gazed at me. “Where +are you going?” said he. “To Revel,” said I. Almost +breathless from his struggle to get at me, he forcibly +pulled me aside from the crowd, drew me close up to +him, and in a hoarse whisper uttered these remarkable +words: “<em>Hempf is up!</em> It took a rise yesterday—<i>Zweimal +zwey macht vier, und sechsmal vier macht vier und +zwanzig! verstehen sie?</i>” “Gott im Himmel!” said I, +“you don’t say so?” “<i>Ya, freilich!</i>” groaned Herr +Batz, hoarsely: “<i>Zwey tausent rubles! verstehen sie? +Sechs und dreissig, und acht und vierzig.</i>” “Ya! ya!” +said I, grasping him cordially by the hand, for I was +afraid the steamer would leave—“<i>Adjeu, mein Herr! +adjeu!</i>” and I darted away into the crowd. The last I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[212]</a></span> +saw of the unfortunate rope-maker, he was standing on +the quay, waving his red cotton handkerchief at me. +As the lines were cast loose, and the steamer swung out +into the river, he put both hands to his mouth, and +shouted out something which the confusion of sounds +prevented me from hearing distinctly. I was certain, +however, that the last word that fell upon my ear was +“<i>hempf</i>!”</p> + +<p>The Neva at this season of the year presents a most +animated and picturesque appearance. A little above +the landing-place of the Baltic steamers, a magnificent +bridge connects the Wasseli-Ostrow with the main part +of the city, embracing the Winter Palace, the Admiralty, +and the Nevskoi, generally known as the Bolshaia, or +Great Side. Below this bridge, as far as the eye can +reach in the direction of the Gulf of Finland, the glittering +waters of the Neva are alive with various kinds of +shipping—merchant vessels from all parts of the world; +fishing smacks from Finland and Riga; lumber vessels +from Tornea; wood-boats from the interior; Russian +and Prussian steamers; row-boats, skiffs, and fancy colored +canoes, with crews and passengers representing +many nations of the earth, are in perpetual motion; and +while the sight is bewildered by the variety of moving +objects, the ears are confounded by the strange medley +of languages.</p> + +<p>Through this confused web of obstacles, the little +steamer in which I had taken passage worked her way +cautiously and systematically, catching a rope here and +there for a sudden swing to the right or to the left, +stopping and backing from time to time, and feeling with +her nose for the narrow channels of the river, till she was +fairly out of danger, when, with a blast of the whistle +and a heavy pressure of steam, she dashed forth into the +open waters of the gulf.</p> + +<p>As we gradually receded, I turned to take a last look +at the mighty Venice of the North. The gold-covered +domes of the churches, rising high above the massive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[213]</a></span> +ranges of palaces, were glittering brilliantly in the sunlight; +the variegated shipping of the Neva was growing +dim in the distance; the masses of foliage that crowned +the islands were of tropical luxuriance, and the whole +city, with its palaces, fortifications, and churches, seemed +to rest upon the surface of the waters. It was a sight +not soon to be forgotten. I turned toward the dark and +stern fortresses of Cronstadt, now breaking in strong +outline through the golden haze of the morning, and +thought of the grim old Czar who had thus battled with +Nature, and planted a mighty city in the wilderness; and +thus musing, sighed to think that such a man should +have lacked the warmth divine which sheds the only +true and enduring lustre upon human greatness.</p> + +<p>After the usual detention at Cronstadt for the examination +of passports, the steamer once more started on +her way, and in a few hours nothing was in sight save +the shores of the gulf dim on the horizon, and the sails +of distant vessels looming up in the haze.</p> + +<p>I now, for the first time, had leisure to look at my fellow-passengers.</p> + +<p>A Russian steamer during the pleasure season is a +floating Babel. Here, within the limits of a few dozen +feet, were the representatives of almost every nation from +the Arctic circle to the tropics—Finns and Swedes, Norwegians +and Danes, Tartars and Russians, Poles and Germans, +Frenchmen and Englishmen, South Americans, and—I +was going to say North Americans, of which, however, +I was the sole representative.</p> + +<p>It was a motley assemblage—a hodge-podge of humanity, +a kind of living pot-pourri of dirty faces and +dirty shirts, military uniforms, slouched hats, blowses, +and big boots. There was a Russian general, who always +stood at the cabin door to show himself to the rest +of the passengers. I don’t know for the life of me what +he was angry about, but his face wore a perpetual frown +of indignation, scorn, and contempt; his black brows +were constitutionally knit; his eyes seemed to be always +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[214]</a></span> +trying to overpower and knock somebody under; his +lips were firmly compressed, and his mustaches stood +out like a dagger on each side, with the handles wrapped +in a bundle of dirty hair under his nose. So tight was +his uniform around the body and neck that it forced all +the blood up into his face, and wouldn’t let it get back +again; and it seemed a miracle that the veins in his forehead +did not burst and carry away the top of his head, +brains and all. Opposite to this great man, in an attitude +of profound humility, stood his liveried servant—a +very gentlemanly-looking person, with an intellectual +baldness covering the entire top of his cranium. This +deferential individual wore a coat beautifully variegated +before and behind with gold lace; a pair of plush knee-breeches, +white stockings, and white kid gloves; and was +continually engaged in bowing to the great man, and +otherwise anticipating his wants. When the great man +looked at a trunk, or a carpet sack, or any thing else in +the line of baggage or traveling equipments, the liveried +servant bowed very low, looked nervously about him, +and then darted off and seized hold of the article in question, +gave it a pull or a push, put it down again, looked +nervously around him, hurried back and bowed again to +his august master, who by that time was generally looking +in some other direction with an air of great indifference—as +much as to say that he was accustomed to that +species of homage, and did not attach any particular value +to it. The passengers regarded him with profound +awe and admiration, and seemed to be very much afraid +he would, upon some trifling provocation, draw his sword +and attack them. I was determined, if ever he undertook +such a demonstration of authority as that, to resent +it with the true spirit of a Californian, and cast about +me for some weapon of personal defense, but saw nothing +likely to be available in an emergency of that kind +except a small bucket of slush, with which, however, it +would be practicable to “douse his glim.” This great +man, with his attendant, was bound for the sea-baths of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[215]</a></span> +Revel, where he would doubtless soon be buffeting the +waves like a porpoise—or possibly, in virtue of the commanding +powers vested in him by nature and the Czar +of Russia, would sit down by the sea-shore like Hardicanute +the Dane, and order the waves to retire.</p> + +<p>Then there was an old lady and her three daughters +who sat on the camp-stools by the step-ladder; the same +fat old lady, bedizened with finery, and the same three +young ladies, with strong features and dismal dresses, +which the traveler encounters all over the Continent of +Europe. The old lady was in a state of chronic agony +lest the young ladies should be forcibly seized and carried +away by some daring youth of the male sex; and +the young ladies were conscious that such was the general +purpose of mankind, and that they were in imminent +danger of being preyed upon in that way, and, consequently, +must always hold down their heads and look +at the seams in the deck upon the approach of any gallant-looking +cavalier with a handsome face and a fine +figure, to say nothing of the expressive tenderness of his +eyes and the gracefulness of his manner, and many other +fascinating features in the young gentleman’s appearance, +of which they could not be otherwise than entirely +unconscious, since they had not taken the slightest notice +of him, and never contemplated encouraging his advances. +The old lady was a very discreet and proper +old lady, and the young ladies were very discreet and +proper young ladies, and they were going to the baths +of Revel after their last winter’s campaign in the fashionable +circles of St. Petersburg; and any body could +see at a glance that they were of a distinguished and +fashionable family, because they had a courier and two +lapdogs, and carried a coat of arms on their trunks and +bandboxes, and were taken with violent headaches soon +after leaving Cronstadt, and used smelling-salts.</p> + +<p>Next was the man who belongs to no particular nation, +speaks every language, and knows every body—a +shabby-genteel, middle-aged man, of no ostensible +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[216]</a></span> +occupation, but always occupied. “Sare,” said he, “I perceive +you are an Englishman. I always very glad am to +meet with Englishmen. I two years spent in London.” +“Indeed!” said I; “you speak English very well, considering +you learned it in England!” “Yes, sare—in +London—I was in business there.” “Mercantile?” said +I. “No, sare; I attended to mi-lor Granby’s ’orses.” +“Oh! that indeed!” “Yes, sare;” and so the conversation +went on in a manner both entertaining and instructive. +In the course of it, I gathered that my shabby-genteel +friend was going to Revel to attend a ’orse-race.</p> + +<p>Another conspicuous group on the deck soon after attracted +my attention—the hungry people. This group +consisted of some six or eight persons, male and female, +of a very Jewish cast of features, well-dressed and lively, +evidently Germans, since they spoke in the German language. +Scarcely had the steamer cast loose from the +quay when they opened the pile of baskets, boxes, and +packages by which they were surrounded, and, taking +out sundry loaves of bread, lumps of cheese, sausages, +and wine-bottles, began to eat and drink with a voracity +perfectly amazing. I was certain I had seen them a +thousand times before. Every feature was familiar; and +even their constitutional appetite was nothing new to +me. I had never seen this group, or their prototype, in +any public conveyance, or in any part of the world, without +a feeling of envy at the extraordinary vigor of their +digestive functions. Here were pale, cadaverous-looking +men, and sallow women, who never stopped eating from +morning till night, in rough or calm weather, in sunshine +or storm; ever hungry, ever thirsty, ever cramming +and guzzling with a degree of zest that the sturdiest +laborer in the field could never experience; and +yet they neither burst nor dropped down dead, nor suffered +from sea-sickness. Doubtless they had just breakfasted +before they came aboard; but, to make sure of it, +they immediately breakfasted again. As soon as they +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[217]</a></span> +were through that, they lunched; then they dined; after +dinner they drank coffee and ate cakes; after coffee and +cakes they lunched again; then they ate a hearty supper, +and after supper whetted their appetites on tea and +cakes; and before bedtime appeased the cravings of +hunger with a heavy meal of sausages, brown bread, and +cheese, which they washed down with several bottles +of wine. I don’t know how many times they got up to +eat in the night, but suppose it could not have been +more than twice or three times, since they were at it +again by daylight in the morning as vigorously as ever. +I am inclined to think that some people are physically +so organized as to be insensible to the difference between +a pound of food and ten pounds, as others are unconscious +of the difference between wit and stupidity, +sense and nonsense; such, for instance, as the humorous +group, who sit by the companion-way, and keep +themselves and every body around them in a continued +roar of laughter. It is good to be merry; but I must +confess it is not within the bounds of my capacity to +discover a source of merriment in such pranks of wit as +these people enjoy. A young fellow makes a face like +an owl—every body roars laughing, the idea is so exquisitely +comical. Another pulls his comrades by the +hair, and every body shouts with uproarious merriment. +One sly chap shoves another off his seat and takes possession +of it—a feat so humorous that the whole crowd +is convulsed. A bad orange, pitched across the deck, +strikes an elderly gentleman on the bald pate—well, I +had to laugh at that myself. By-and-by, a stout, florid +young gentleman turns pale and groans; three or four +officious friends, with twinkling eyes, seize him by the +arms, and drag him over to the lee-scuppers, where he +manifests still more decided symptoms of sea-sickness. +His friends hold him, rub him, chafe him, and pat him +on the back; one offers him a meerschaum pipe to +smoke; another, a bunch of cigars; a third, a piece of fat +meat; while a fourth tempts him with a bottle of some +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[218]</a></span> +wine, all of which is uncommon fun to every body but +the unfortunate victim. Thus the time passes away +pleasantly enough, after all, taking into view the variety +of incidents and scenes which constantly occupy the attention +of a looker-on. I had taken a deck-passage for +cheapness, and made out to get through the night by +bundling myself up on a pile of baggage, and catching a +few cat-naps whenever the noise created by these lively +young gentlemen would permit of such a feat.</p> + +<p>By seven o’clock in the morning we were steering +into the harbor of Revel.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI.</h2> + +<h3>REVEL AND HELSINGFORS.</h3> + + +<p>Few cities within the limits of the Russian dominions +possess greater historic interest than Revel. Although +its commerce is limited to a few annual shipments of +hemp, flax, and tallow, produced in the province of Esthonia, +and the importation of such articles of domestic +consumption as the peasants require, it occupies a prominent +position as a naval dépôt for Russian vessels of +war, and is much frequented in summer by the citizens +of St. Petersburg as a bathing-place and general resort +of pleasure. A steamer leaves daily for Revel and Helsingfors, +which, during the bathing season, is crowded +with passengers, as in the case of my own trip, of which +I have already given you a sketch. The approach to +the harbor, in the bright morning sun, is exceedingly +picturesque. Beyond the forest of masts and spars, +with gayly-colored flags and streamers spread to the +breeze, rises a group of ancient buildings on the rocky +eminence called the Domberg, comprising the castle, the +residences of the governor and commandant, and various +palaces and quarters of the nobility, surrounded by Gothic +walls and strong fortifications. This ancient and picturesque +pile has been termed the Acropolis of Revel, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[219]</a></span> +though beyond the fact that it overlooks the lower town +and forms a prominent feature in the scenic beauties of +the place, it is difficult to determine in what respect it +can bear a comparison with the famous Acropolis of +Athens. However, I have observed that travelers find +it convenient to discover resemblances of this kind +where none exist, as a means of rounding off their descriptions; +and since the Kremlin is styled the Acropolis +of Moscow, I see no reason why Revel should not enjoy +the same sort of classic association. It is to be hoped +that when Russian travelers visit San Francisco, they +will, upon the principle adopted by tourists in their +country, do us the justice to designate Russian Hill as +the Acropolis of San Francisco; and should they visit +Sacramento during the existence of a flood, I have no +doubt they can find a pile of bricks or a whisky barrel +sufficiently elevated above the general level to merit the +distinctive appellation of an Acropolis. Revel has suffered +more frequent changes of government, and passed +through the hands of a greater variety of rulers, than +any city, perhaps, in the whole of Northern Europe. In +the twelfth and thirteenth centuries it was a province +of Denmark; subsequently it fell into the hands of the +Swedes, and in 1347 became a possession of the Livonian +Knights, a chivalrous and warlike order, who built castles, +lived in a style of great luxuriance, killed, robbed, +and plundered the people of the surrounding countries, +and otherwise distinguished themselves as gentlemen of +the first families, not one of them having ever been known +to perform a day’s useful labor in his life. Such, indeed, +was the heroic character of these doughty knights, that, +having plunged the whole country into ruin and distress, +the peasants, driven to desperation, rose upon them in +1560, and completely routed and destroyed them, killing +many, and compelling the remainder to seek some other +occupation. This was rough treatment for gentlemen, +but it happens from time to time in the course of history, +and shows to what trials chivalrous blood is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[220]</a></span> +exposed when it can’t have its own way. Finally Esthonia +and Livonia fell into the hands of Charles II. of Sweden, +from whom they were wrested by Peter the Great. +Since that period these provinces have continued under +the Russian dominion. From the time of Peter to the +reign of the present emperor, Revel has been a favorite +summer resort of the Czars. It has been rebuilt, patched, +fortified, and improved to such an extent that it now +represents almost every style of architecture known in +Northern Europe since the Middle Ages. The people +partake of the same characteristics, being a mixture of +every Northern race by which the place has been inhabited +since the reign of Eric XIV. of Denmark. I spent +some hours visiting the churches and other objects of interest, +a detailed description of which would scarcely be +practicable within the brief limits of a letter. The Ritterschaftshaus, +containing the armorial bearings of the +nobility, is a place of great historical interest; but I saw +nothing that afforded me so much amusement as the +scenes in the Jahrmarket, where the annual summer fair +is held. Here were booths and tents, and all sorts of +wares, much in the style of the markets of the Riadi in +Moscow, of which I have already given a description. +The crowds gathered around those places of barter and +trade appeared to enjoy a very free-and-easy sort of life. +I could see nothing about them indicative of an oppressed +condition. Most of them were reeling drunk, and +such as were not drunk seemed in a fair way of speedily +arriving at that condition of beatitude.</p> + +<p>From the Jahrmarket I strolled out to the Cathermthal, +a favorite resort of the citizens during the heat of +the day. The shady promenades of this magnificent +garden, its natural beauties, and the display of equipages +and costumes, render it an exceedingly agreeable lounging-place +for a stranger. Every thing is in the Russian +style—the pavilions, the music, the theatrical exhibitions, +and the predominance of naval and military uniforms +throughout the grounds. The scarcity of flowers is +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[221]</a></span> +remedied to some extent by the profusion of epaulettes +and brass buttons, which the emperor seems to regard +as superior to any thing in nature. No garden that I +have yet seen in Russia is destitute of ornaments of this +kind.</p> + +<p>Gambling was going on every where—at every tea-table +and in every pavilion. This department of civilization +is well represented in Revel by the Russians. Horse-racing, +cards, dominoes, and other amusements and games +of hazard, are their ruling passion. A Russian who will +not bet his head after he has lost all his valuable possessions +must be a very poor representative of his country +indeed. I have rarely seen such a passionate devotion +to the gaming-table, even in California, which is not usually +behind the nations of Europe in all that pertains to +the cultivation of the human mind. Revel must be a +heaven to a genuine Russian. All is free and unreserved, +and morals are said to be unknown, save to a few of the +old-fashioned citizens and gentry. Visitors usually leave +their own behind them, and depend upon chance for a +fresh supply in case of necessity.</p> + +<p>The afternoon was warm, and it occurred to me that a +stroll on the beach would be pleasant. Accompanied by +my friend the horse-jockey, who seemed determined to +hold on to me as long as I remained in Revel, under the +conviction, no doubt, that I was secretly engaged in the +horse business, and would come out in my true character +before long, I sauntered down in the direction of some +bathing tents, scattered along the beach a little below +the port. My jockey friend was continually trying to +pump out of me upon which of the horses in the approaching +race it was my intention to bet, urging me +as a friend not to throw away my money on the roan or +chestnut, although appearances were in their favor, but +to go in heavy on the black mare; and notwithstanding +I assured him it was not my intention to risk any portion +of my capital on this race, he was pertinacious in +giving me his advice, and could not be convinced that I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[222]</a></span> +know nothing about the horses, and never bet on races +of any kind. “Sare,” said he, “you are a stranger. +These Russians are great rascals. They will cheat you +out of your eyes. I speakee English. I am your friend.” +I thanked him very cordially, but assured him there was +no danger of my being cheated. He then went into a +dissertation on the relative merits of the horses, to prove +that it was impossible for me, a perfect stranger, to escape +bankruptcy among so many sharpers. “But,” said +I, “the horse-race takes place to-morrow, does it not?” +“Yes, sare, to-morrow at three o’clock! You will be +there? I shall also be there!” “But, my good friend, +I leave to-night in the steamer; therefore all your kindness +is thrown away!” “Oh! you must not leave to-night. +You must see the horse-race!” In vain I assured +him it was impossible for me to remain. He was +not to be put off on any pretext, and, having made up +his mind that I must remain, I was forced to drop the +subject and let him have his way. While he was enlarging +upon the merits of the black mare, my attention +was attracted by a group of bathers—ladies, as I judged +by their voices, though, as they were dressed in rather +a fantastic style, I could not perceive any other indication +of the sex. One of the party—a lively young girl +of sixteen or seventeen—seemed to be a perfect mermaid. +She plunged and swam, ducked and dived, kicked +up her delicate little feet, and disappeared under the +surf in a way that struck me with awe and admiration. +Never was there such an enchanting picture of perfect +abandonment to the enjoyment of the occasion. A poetic +feeling I took possession of me. Visions of grottoes +under the deep sea waves, and beautiful princesses and +maidens, filled my soul. I thought of Gulnare in the +Arabian Nights, and felt disposed, like Mirza, the King +of Persia, to “embrace her with great tenderness.” It +was really a very pretty sight. “Sare,” said my companion, +confidentially, “take my advice. She is blind of +one eye, and has a strain in the fore leg, but you may +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[223]</a></span> +bet on her! I jockeyed her for six months before the +last race.” He was still talking about the black mare. +I turned away to hide my impatience. After a few +words of desultory conversation, I excused myself on +the plea of sickness, and bade him good-evening.</p> + +<p>At 8 P.M. I took my departure from Revel. A new +batch of passengers had come on board. We were soon +steaming our way across the Gulf of Finland. I had +rarely spent a more pleasant day, and, if time had permitted, +would gladly have prolonged my sojourn in the +quaint old city of Revel. The summer nights were still +incomparably beautiful. A glow of sunshine was visible +in the sky as late as eleven o’clock. At two, the rays of +the rising sun began to illuminate the horizon. A dead +calm gave to the sleeping waters of the Gulf the appearance +of a lake; and as we approached the shores of Helsingfors, +the illusion was heightened by innumerable +little islands, clothed with verdant slopes of grass and +groves of pine. The harbor of Helsingfors derives a peculiar +interest from its system of fortifications. Nature +seems to have done much to render it impregnable; and +what Nature has not done has been accomplished by the +military genius of the Russians. Immense masses of +rock rise from the water in every direction, leaving deep +narrow passages between for vessels. Every rock is a +fortress. The steamer passed through a perfect maze +of fortifications. Guns bore upon us from all sides—out +of the forts, out of holes in the rocks—in short, out of +every conceivable nook and crevice in the bay. The +very rocks seemed to be alive with sentinels and to bustle +with armories. Probably there is no part of the +Russian dominions, except Cronstadt, more thoroughly +fortified than Sweaborg. The system of engineering +displayed upon this point evinces the highest order of +military genius. The fortifications embrace a series of +forts, castles, barracks, and military establishments of +various kinds, situated on seven islands of solid rock, +forming the different channels of approach to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[224]</a></span> +harbor. Count Ehrensuerd, Field-marshal of Sweden, is +entitled to the credit of having devised the original system +of fortifications, afterward so successfully carried +out by the Czars of Russia. This was the last rallying-point +of the Swedes during the war with Russia. In +1808, Admiral Cronstadt, the commander of the Swedish +forces, who had hitherto proved himself a brave and patriotic +officer, submitted to terms of capitulation and delivered +over the forts to the Russians. History scarcely +furnishes a parallel to such a wanton and unaccountable +act of treachery. Cronstadt had fifteen hundred men, +two frigates, and all the munitions of war to hold his +position against any force that could be brought against +him; while the Russians were reduced to great extremities, +and, it is said, had scarcely force enough left to +man the forts after they were evacuated by the Swedes. +Sufficient testimony has been gathered by historians to +show that Cronstadt bartered his honor for money; yet, +strange to say, such is the high estimation in which he +was originally held by the Swedes, that many of them +to this day profess to disbelieve that he was capable of +such an infamous crime. It is thought by some that he +must have been laboring under some mental hallucination +at the time of the capitulation. Be that as it may, +the success of the Russian arms was doubtless greatly +facilitated by this act of treason. Cronstadt, like Benedict +Arnold, died an isolated and broken-hearted man. +His ill-gotten gains were but a poor recompense for the +infamy entailed upon his name. Such, indeed, as all history +shows, has been and must ever be the fate of all +traitors to their country.</p> + +<p>Helsingfors was founded by Gustavus Vasa in the sixteenth +century. A portion of the old town is still visible, +though there is little about it beyond a few ruined +walls possessing much historical interest. After the +Russians obtained possession they enlarged and improved +the city upon its present site, and in 1819 it became +the capital of Finland. In 1827 Abo suffered from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[225]</a></span> +a general conflagration, after which the grand University +of that city was removed to Helsingfors, which now +comprises the most important public buildings and institutions +in Finland. Among these are the senate-house, +the palace of the governor, the Museum, the Botanical +Garden, the Observatory, etc. The streets in the lower +parts of the city are broad and regular, and many of the +houses are quite as good as the generality of private residences +in Moscow or St. Petersburg. The principal +church, which is built in the form of a Greek cross, is a +conspicuous and imposing edifice, standing near the centre +of the town on a rocky eminence, presenting on the +approach up the harbor a peculiarly Russian effect with +its gilded domes and crosses. The green roofs of the +houses also remind one that he is still within the dominions +of Russia; and if any doubt on that point should +remain after landing from the steamer, it is speedily dispelled +by the vast numbers of Russian soldiers and officers +constantly marching about the streets.</p> + +<p>I had two days to devote to the objects of interest in +and around Helsingfors. For convenience and economy, +I took a room in a Finnish hotel, on one of the back +streets. Having deposited my knapsack, my first visit +was to the Observatory, from which a beautiful view is +to be had of the harbor and fortifications. From this +point of observation a very good idea may be formed of +the extent and general character of the town. It covers +a large area of solid rocks, the entire foundation consisting +of immense round boulders, forming a succession of +ups and downs singularly varied in outline and picturesque +at every point of view. Beyond the main part of +the town, toward the interior, the country is mountainous, +and covered for the most part with dense forests of +pine. Cultivation has made but little progress beyond +the immediate suburbs. A few miles from the waters +of the bay the eye rests upon an apparently untrodden +wilderness of rocky heights and pine forests, and toward +the Gulf nothing can exceed the desolate grandeur of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[226]</a></span> +scene. Rock-bound islands, upon which the surf breaks +with an unceasing moan; points and promontories covered +with dark forests; a rugged coast, dimly looming +through the mist; innumerable sea-gulls whirling and +screaming over the dizzy pinnacles, are its principal features. +While I was seated on a bank of moss near the +Observatory, enjoying the beauties of the scene, strains +of music were wafted up on the breeze from the shady +recesses of the Botanical Gardens, toward which I saw +that the citizens were wending their way. It was Sunday, +which here as well as in Germany is a day of recreation. +I took a by-path and speedily joined the crowd. +The people of every degree are well dressed and respectable, +and I was somewhat surprised to find so much politeness, +cultivation, and intelligence in such an out-of-the-way +part of the world. The music was excellent, +and the display of style and fashion in the gardens was +quite equal to any thing I had seen in my European +travels. From what little I saw of the Finns, I was +greatly prepossessed in their favor. They seem to me +to be a primitive, substantial, and reliable race, strong +in their affections, kind and hospitable toward strangers, +amiable and inoffensive, yet brave and patriotic—hating +the Russians with a cordiality truly refreshing. I formed +a casual acquaintance with several of them during my +rambles about the Garden. No sooner did they discern +my nationality than they gave me to understand that +their Constitution had been violated, their liberties +trampled under foot, their rights disregarded, and their +patience under all these injuries misconstrued. “We +only await an opportunity,” they said, “to prove to the +world that we are still a free-born people. The time is +not distant. In the heart of every Finn burns the spirit +of a freeman and a patriot! We are not a race doomed +to slavery. You who are an American can understand +us! We only want a chance to cast off the chains of +despotism which now oppress us. It is coming: we are +overpowered now, but not conquered! We hate the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[227]</a></span> +Russians! No true Finn can ever amalgamate with +such a race!”</p> + +<p>This was the strain in which I was constantly addressed. +Notwithstanding the electoral privileges guaranteed +to the Finns under their Constitution, and the fact +that many of the municipal offices are filled by themselves, +there is no more community of interest between +them and their rulers than between the Italians and the +Austrians. Their hatred of the government and of all +its concomitants is implacable. It seemed a luxury to +some of these poor people to find a sympathizing listener. +I met many intelligent Finns, both in Helsingfors +and Abo, who spoke good English, and never conversed +with one for five minutes without hearing the same +strong expressions of dislike to the present condition of +affairs, and sanguine hopes for the future. There is only +hope for them, that I can see—that the emancipation of +the serfs may lead to the establishment of a more liberal +system of government throughout the Russian dominions. +All hopes based upon isolated revolutions are futile.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII.</h2> + +<h3>A BATHING SCENE.</h3> + + +<p>I devoted the afternoon to a stroll on the sea-shore, +which presents many interesting features in the neighborhood +of Helsingfors. A considerable portion of the +town, as already stated, is built upon immense boulders +of solid rock, and some of the streets are entirely impracticable +for wheeled vehicles, owing to the rugged +masses of stone with which Nature has thought proper +to pave them. Indeed, it is no easy task for a pedestrian +to make his way through the suburbs, over the tremendous +slippery boulders that lie scattered over the earth in +every direction, the trail being in some instances higher +than the houses. I can not conceive how people can +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[228]</a></span> +travel over such streets in wet weather; it seems a task +only fit for goats under favorable circumstances; but the +Finns are an ingenious people, and probably ride on the +backs of the goats when walking is impracticable. Passing +the straggling lines of fishermen’s huts forming the +outskirts of the town, I rambled over two or three miles +of rocky fields till I found myself on the shores of the +gulf, at a point sufficiently lonesome and desolate to be a +thousand miles from any inhabited portion of the globe. +Taking possession of a natural chair, worn in the rocks +by the rains of many centuries, I seated myself upon its +mossy cushion, and, baring my head to the pleasant sea-breeze, +quietly enjoyed the scene. Perhaps this very seat +was the throne of an old viking! Here were sea-shells, +and glittering pebbles, and tufts of moss for his crown; +and here were sea-gulls to make music for him, and the +spray from the wild waves to keep him cool; and a +thousand rock-bound islands, lying outspread to the +north, with grottoes in them for his ships; and piles upon +piles of rocky palaces all around, covered with golden +roofs of moss; and every thing, in short, that could make +glad the heart of a grim old viking residing on the edge +of the arctic circle. And if this summer scene, with its +blue sea, and wood-capped islands, and warm sun, and +balmy breeze, could not make glad his heart, it would +not be difficult to imagine what changes winter could +bring over it, and how the old viking, sitting on his +throne by the sea-shore, could enjoy the dead and icy +waste before him; and how the winter drifts would whistle +through his hair; and how cheery the jagged rocks +would look peeping up out of the snow-drifts; and how +balmy would be the night-air at sixty degrees below +freezing-point; and how the old viking would shake his +beard with laughter as he warmed his hands in a midday +sun, only ten feet above the horizon, and make the +icicles rattle on his chin; and sit thus laughing and blowing +his fingers, and rattling his icy beard, and saying to +himself, “What a blessing to be a Finlander! How +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[229]</a></span> +horribly the natives of Spain and Italy must suffer from bad +climate! What a pity it is Finland is not large enough +to accommodate the whole human race.” With such +thoughts as these I amused myself for some time, soothed +and charmed by the pleasant sea-breeze and the music +of the waves upon the rocks. The air was deliciously +pure, and the odor of the sea-weeds had something in it +so healthful and inspiring that I was insensibly carried +back to by-gone days. How short a time it seemed since +I was a wanderer upon the rock-bound shores of Juan +Fernandez, yet how many strange scenes I had passed +through since then—how much of the world I had seen, +with its toils, and troubles, and vicissitudes! Here I +was now, after years of travel in every clime, among the +various nations of the earth, sitting solitary and alone +upon an isolated rock on the shores of Finland! Whither +was I going? What was the object? Where was +the result? When was it to end? Years were creeping +over me; I was no longer in the heyday of youth, +yet the vague aspirations of boyhood still clung to me—the +insatiable craving to see more and more of the world—the +undefined hope that I would yet live to be cast +away upon a desolate island, and become a worthy disciple +of the immortal Robinson Crusoe! Ah me! What +a lonesome feeling it is to be a visionary, enthusiastic +boy all one’s life, in this practical world of dollars and +cents, where other boys are men, and men forget that +they ever were young! But this, you say, is all sentimental +nonsense. Of course it is. I admit the full folly +of such thoughts. It would be a pitiable spectacle indeed +to see every body inspired by the vagabond spirit +of Robinson Crusoe. No doubt, if you were sitting upon +a rock on the Gulf of Finland, my respected Californian +friend, you would be hammering off the croppings and +trying to discover the indications. You consider that +the true philosophy of life—to dig, and delve, and burrow +in the ground, and get gold and silver out of it, and +suffer rheumatism in your bones and cramps in your +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[230]</a></span> +stomach, and wear out your life in a practical way, while +we visionaries are dreaming sentimental nonsense! But, +after all, does the one pay any better than the other in +the long run? Will gold or silver make you see farther +into a millstone, or give you a better appetite, or put +youth and health into your veins, or cause you to sleep +more soundly of nights, or prolong your life to an indefinite +period beyond the span allotted to the average of +mankind? Will you never be convinced of the truth of +these inspired words, which can not be repeated too often: +As you brought nothing into the world, so you can +take nothing out of it?</p> + +<p>Come, then, let us be young again, and dash into the +blue waters of Finland, and buffet the sparkling brine as +it seethes and boils over the rocks! Away with your +gold and your silver, and your toils and cares, and let us +play Robinson Crusoe and Friday here in this solitary +little glen, where “our right there is none to dispute”—unless +it may be the Czar of Russia. Off with your shirt, +your boots, your drawers, your all, and be for once a genuine +savage—be my man Friday, and I’ll teach you how +to enjoy life. Ye gods! doesn’t it feel fine—that plunge +in the foaming brine! Why, you look like a boiled lobster +already; the glow of health is all over you; your +eyes sparkle, your skin glistens; you shoot out the salt +sea-spray from your nostrils in a manner that would surprise +any porpoise; you whoop and you yell like a young +devil let loose! Never in the world would I take you +to be a hard, money-making, lucre-loving man! Why, +my dear Friday, you are a perfect jewel of a savage! I +didn’t know it was you, and doubt if you knew it yourself! +Isn’t it glorious? I feel a thousand years younger! +Don’t you hear me singing,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Oh, poor Robinson Crusoe!<br /></span> +<span class="i1">Tinky ting tang, tinky ting tang,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, poor Robinson Crusoe!”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>But the water is rather fresh—considering how much +salt there is in it. We had better take a race over the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[231]</a></span> +rocks. Run, Friday, for your life. If I catch you, overboard +you go into the sea again. Run, you savage, run! +Voices? you say, human voices?</p> + +<p>Great Heavens! Where are you, Friday? Gone! disappeared +behind that projecting ledge of rocks. And +here am I, all alone, up to my arm-pits in the water, with +a group of Finnish ladies standing there, not a hundred +yards off, looking at me!—ay, gazing steadfastly at me, +and, what is worse, splitting their sides laughing at my +confusion! What in the world is to be done? The water +seems to be growing colder and colder. I am chilled +through. My jaws begin to chatter. Suppose a shark +should seize me by the leg—or a sudden and violent +cramp should take possession of me? My gracious! +what are those women doing now? Actually seating +themselves on the rocks, within ten steps of my clothes, +and spreading several packages of bread, cheese, and +cakes around them! They are going to enjoy a picnic +while I enjoy my bath! I hear their merry voices; I +can imagine the general drift of their jokes. How innocently +they eat, and drink, and laugh. Possibly they +take me for a seal or a walrus! Certainly nothing is visible +but my head, on the crown of which, I regret to say, +is a bald spot about the size of your hand. It may be +very funny to see it dodging up and down among the +breakers—but I can’t stand it much longer. Already +the spray has wellnigh strangled me; I shiver all over; +a horrible presentiment is uppermost in my mind that +polypi, and sea-leeches, and shiny jelly-fish are fastening +their suckers upon my legs; I jump, and kick, and plunge +in an agony of apprehension, while those fair creatures +on the rock imagine, no doubt, that I am disporting myself +in sheer exuberance of joy. If they only knew that +I had been full half an hour in the water before they appeared, +there might be some hope of a release; but that +does not seem to have entered their heads.</p> + +<p>Never in all my experience, reader, was I in such a +predicament. This is no fancy sketch. It is true, every +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[232]</a></span> +word of it. Had the picnickers been old ladies, I might +have shut my eyes, and made a break out of the water +for my clothes; but three of them, at least, were young, +and, worse than that, very pretty! The courage for so +daring and monstrous an act was not in me. I felt that +it would be easier to die; and yet to die in this way is +pretty hard when it comes to a practical test. What the +deuce was to be done? I could not speak a word of +Finnish, otherwise I might have implored them to retire +a few hundred yards and let me get my clothes. With +a shirt, or even a pocket-handkerchief, I might have +charged upon the enemy; but I had nothing—not even +a hat—as a shield against the battery of sparkling eyes +that bore down upon me! A thousand expedients flashed +through my mind in the extremity of my sufferings. +I would slip out of the water on all-fours, and creep over +the rocks like a seal, but that would be an extremely ungraceful +way of approaching a bevy of strange ladies. +Then it occurred to me if I could get hold of a bunch of +sea-weeds, it might serve as a temporary substitute for a +costume; but the weeds had all drifted away by this +time, and not a patch was in sight. Even a large oyster-shell +might have afforded some assistance; but who ever +heard of oyster-shells in the Gulf of Finland? Nothing +remained save to dive down and seize a big rock, detach +it from the bottom, and, holding it up before me, make +a break for the pile of clothes; yet when I came to consider +the preposterous spectacle that a middle-aged man +would present in a state of nudity charging full tilt upon +a party of ladies, with a big rock in his hands and a +gleam of desperation in his eye, the idea seemed too +monstrous to be entertained, and I was forced to give it +up. The difficulty was becoming really serious. Doubtless +it appears very funny to my California friends, but +I can assure them it was pretty near death to me. I +would have given ten dollars for the poorest cotton shirt +that was ever dealt out by an Indian agent to a Reservation +Digger; nay, transparent as the blankets are, I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[233]</a></span> +might have made one serve my purpose by doubling it +three or four times and holding it up front.</p> + +<p>All this, however, though very well in its way, did not +relieve me from my embarrassing predicament. Something +must be done, and that very speedily. I was rapidly +wilting under the chilling influence of the water. +Ten minutes more would render me a fit subject for a +coroner’s inquest. I saw but one alternative: to work +my course a few hundred yards up the shore, and then +creep out the best way I could, and run for my life till I +found some friendly nook among the rocks in which I +could conceal myself till these fair Finns took a notion to +depart.</p> + +<p>Acting upon this idea, I ducked down as low as possible, +and crept over the jagged and slippery rocks, in mortal +dread all the time that some receding wave would +leave me a dripping spectacle for these fair damsels to +laugh at; till, bruised and scarified beyond farther endurance, +I worked my way to a landing-place, where I +paused in a recumbent position—that is to say, on all-fours—to +take an observation. They must have perceived +something ludicrous in my attitude. A wild scream of +laughter saluted my ears. I could stand no more. What +little warmth was left in my blood forced itself into my +head and face as I sprang to my feet. With a groan of +shame and mortification, I took to my heels; and never +before, so help me Jupiter! did I run so fast in my life. +Scream after scream of laughter followed me! It is impossible +for me to conjecture how I looked, but I felt +dreadfully destitute of sail as I scudded over the rough +pathway that wound around the shore. Blushing, panting, +and utterly overwhelmed with conflicting emotions +of modesty and despair, I darted behind the friendly shelter +of a rock, and inwardly resolved that if ever I went +bathing in Finland again, I would at least perform my +ablutions in a more appropriate costume than Nature +had bestowed upon me.</p> + +<p>The next question was, how long were these people +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[234]</a></span> +going to enjoy themselves at my expense? Was I to +be blockaded from my clothes all the rest of the afternoon? +I could not, upon any principle of international +law, undertake to break the blockade on the ground that +it was not effectual, and yet it was pretty hard to do +without my cotton. What I had suffered from the cold +while in the water was nothing to what I now began to +experience from the unobstructed rays of the sun. My +skin was rapidly assuming every variety of color supposed +to exist in the rainbow, and a painful consciousness +possessed me that in half an hour more I would be +blistered from head to foot. There was no shade on my +side of the rock, and nothing any where in sight that +could afford the least protection. Racked with renewed +anguish, I peeped out to see if there was any earthly +prospect reaching my clothes. Horror upon horror! +what were they doing now? Did my eyes deceive me? +As sure as fate, they were all quietly undressing themselves! +Hats, scarves, parasols and dresses were scattered +all around them; there they sat, on the moss-covered +rocks, their alabaster necks and limbs glistening in the +sun, looking for all the world like a bevy of mermaids, +laughing and chattering in the highest glee, perfectly indifferent +to my presence! I saw no more. A dizziness +came over me. Consternation seized my inmost soul. +Drawing back behind the rock. I held my face close up +to it and shut both my eyes. Don’t talk to me about +courage! Every man is a coward by nature. Of what +avail was it that I had killed whales and chased grizzly +bears? Here I was now, hiding my face, shutting my +eyes, trembling in the hot sun like a man with an ague, +both knees knocking together, and my heart ready to +pop out of my mouth from abject fear! Strange—wasn’t +it?—especially after having made the grand tour +of Europe, in many parts of which live men and women +are ranked with statuary. What harm is there, after all, +in discarding those artificial trappings which disfigure +the human form divine? Many a man who looks like +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[235]</a></span> +an Apollo Belvidere in his natural condition, becomes a +very commonplace fellow the moment he steps into his +conventional disguise. He is no longer heroic; he may +be a very vulgar-looking mortal, not at all calculated to +produce classical impressions on any body. His form +divine has fallen into the hands of a tailor, who may be +neither an artist or a poet. And since we can admire +an Apollo Belvidere, why not a Venus de Medici, or, +still more, the living, breathing impersonation of beauty +buffeting the waves with</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Shapely limb and lubricated joint.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>But, hang it all! though not an ill-shaped man, I don’t +flatter myself there was any thing in my personal appearance, +as I crouched behind the rock, shutting both eyes +as hard as I could, to remind the most enthusiastic artist +of the Apollo Belvidere! Nay, the gifted Hawthorne +himself could scarcely have made a Marble Faun out of +so unpromising a subject. And as for the fair bathers, +who by this time were plunging about in the water like +naiads, it would of course be impossible for me to say +how far they were improved by lack of costume, since I +looked in another direction, and kept my eyes faithfully +closed from the very beginning. The question now occurred +to me, Would I not be justified by the law of nations +in breaking the blockade? It was now or never. +If they once commenced dressing, farewell to hope! +Well, I did it. Heaven only knows how I got through +the terrible ordeal. I only remember that desperation +gave strength and speed to my limbs, and I ran with incredible +velocity. A moment of terrible confusion ensued +as I grasped at my scattered habiliments. There +came a scream of laughter from the wicked naiads who +were sporting in the waves. I fled over the hills—my +bundle in my arms—and never once stopped till I reached +a small valley about half a mile distant. Breathless, +mortified, and bewildered at the oddity of the adventure. +I hurriedly dressed, and walked back to town. Arrived +at my hotel, I called for a bottle of schnapps, retired to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[236]</a></span> +my room, locked the door, and fervently ejaculated, +“‘All’s well that ends well!’ Here’s to the ladies of +Helsingfors! But if ever you catch me in such a scrape +again, my name’s not Browne!”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII.</h2> + +<h3>ABO—FINLAND.</h3> + + +<p>I was strongly inclined to spend several weeks in Helsingfors. +The bathing is delightful, and the manners and +customs of the people are primitive and interesting. My +adventure on the sea-shore, as I soon discovered, was +nothing uncommon. I mentioned the matter to my landlady—a +Finnish woman of very sociable manners, who +spoke a little English. I asked her if it was customary +for the ladies to dispense with bathing-dresses. She said +they generally wore something when they bathed in public, +but beyond the limits of the regular bath-houses, at +the end of the Botanical Gardens, they seldom troubled +themselves about matters of that kind; in fact, they preferred +going in without any obstruction, because “they +could swim so much better.”</p> + +<p>Having procured my passport at the Bureau of the +Police, I took passage in a Swedish steamer bound for +Abo and Stockholm. Next morning by daylight the +steamer arrived from St. Petersburg. I went on board, +and in a few hours more the fortifications of Sweaborg +were dim in the distance.</p> + +<p>The accommodations on board the Swedish steamers +are excellent. I took passage in the second cabin, for the +sake of economy, and found every thing as clean and +comfortable as I could desire. The waiters are polite +and attentive, the fare is good, and the company quiet +and respectable. The difference in this respect is very +striking between first and second class passengers on +board of American and Swedish steamers. In the latter +there is no rowdyism—no incivility from officers or +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[237]</a></span> +servants; and, so far as the passengers are concerned, I +could not perceive that they were debarred from any of +the privileges enjoyed by passengers of the first class. +They had the entire range of the vessel, and were treated +with the same respect and consideration shown to +others who possessed the means of indulgence in a little +more style. I have been particularly pleased with this +trait in the management of public conveyances throughout +Europe. In Sweden and Norway it is especially +characteristic. The commonest deck-passenger on board +a Swedish or Norwegian steamer is treated with courtesy. +Indeed, I have seen instances of care and tenderness +toward the poorer classes, whose circumstances +compelled them to travel in this way, that I regret to +say would excite astonishment in our own democratic +country. I can scarcely understand why it is that the +captain and officers of a steam-ship on our side of the +water consider it their duty to harass passengers who +do not pay the highest price with all sorts of vexatious +restrictions, and to render their condition as uncomfortable +as possible. To be overbearing, insolent, and ungentlemanly +seems to be the only aim of these important +functionaries, and, so far as my experience goes, they succeed +so well in this respect that if they do not actually +prove themselves brutes and blackguards during the passage, +they are usually rewarded for their forbearance, on +reaching the port of destination, by a card of thanks. I +have seen no such insolence on the part of officers and +slavishness on that of passengers on board of any Swedish +or Norwegian steamer, as I have often seen on the +Panama and California coast steamers. Yet cards of +thanks are not common in Europe. In fact, they would +be regarded as a reflection upon the officers rather than +an evidence of complimentary appreciation.</p> + +<p>The coast of Finland from Helsingfors to Abo abounds +in small rocky islands, covered, for the most part, with a +stunted growth of pine. The outline of the main land +is extremely rugged and irregular, presenting a succession +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[238]</a></span> +of promontories, bays, and inlets, weather-beaten +cliffs of granite, and gloomy pine forests. No sign of +habitation is to be seen during the entire voyage, with +the exception of an occasional group of fishermen’s huts +or a custom-house station. The whole country has the +appearance of an unbroken wilderness. The steamer +plows her way, hour after hour, through the narrow and +winding passages that lie between the islands—sometimes +so close to the overhanging cliffs and rugged boulders +of granite as almost to touch—and often apparently +land-locked amid the maze of islands and promontories. +While there is nothing grand or imposing in the scenery, +the coast of Finland is certainly one of the most interesting +portions of the world, in a geological point of view. +The singular formation of the rocks, their rich and varied +colors, and the strange manner in which Nature has +grouped them together, afford an endless variety of interesting +studies. The utter isolation of the inhabitants +from the busy world, their rude and primitive mode of +life, their simplicity, hardihood, and daring; the rigors +of climate to which they are subject, and their strong attachment +to their sea-girt homes and perilous pursuits, +render the trip interesting to the general tourist, who, +though not skilled in geology, may be supposed to possess, +like myself, a fancy for gathering up odds and ends +touching the condition of his fellow-beings.</p> + +<p>The people of this coast region are a hardy race, whose +wild habits of life and isolation from the great outer +world develop in them many striking and peculiar traits +of character. During the long winters, when the bays, +inlets, and harbors are blocked with ice, they become +wood-choppers or lumbermen, and spend their time chiefly +in the forests. Upon the breaking up of winter they +prepare their nets and fishing-gear, and, as soon as the +season permits, set forth in their little smacks, and devote +the principal part of the summer to catching and +curing fish, for which they find a ready sale at the stations +along the shore, frequented by traders from St. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</a></span> +Petersburg. They live in small cabins, built of pine logs, +rarely consisting of more than two rooms. Each family +owns a small patch of ground, with an unlimited range +of forest. A few cows or goats, a vegetable garden, and +some chickens or ducks, constitute all they require for +domestic use, and these are usually attended by the women +and children during the absence of the men on their +fishing expeditions. Education is at a low ebb among +them, though the rudimental branches are not altogether +neglected. They are a simple, hospitable, and kind-hearted +people, ignorant and superstitious, yet by no means +deficient in natural capacity. No better sailors than the +Finns are to be found in any part of the world, and there +is scarcely a sea throughout the arctic regions which has +not been visited by their vessels. Although the climate +is rigorous during a considerable portion of the year, the +Finns prefer it to any other in the world, and conscientiously +believe the garden of Paradise must have been +originally located in Finland. The lower classes are contented +and happy, caring little for affairs of government, +unless they happen to be subjected to some peculiar or +oppressive restraints. As the traveler approaches the +Gulf of Bothnia, they assimilate very closely to the same +classes in Sweden, and but little difference is perceptible +either in their language or costume. The educated classes, +such as the professional men, merchants, bankers, traders, +etc., are as polished as most people throughout the +North of Europe, and many of them are distinguished +for their cultivated manners and general intelligence. +Such of these as I conversed with on board the steamer +impressed me very favorably. I found them liberal in +their sentiments, and devoted admirers of our American +institutions. Yet, strange to say, the only secessionist I +met in the course of my wanderings in this region was +a Finn. Hearing me speak English, he immediately +opened a conversation on the subject of the revolutionary +movement in the United States. He did not know +what we were fighting for; thought the North was acting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</a></span> +very badly; regarded the people of the South as an +oppressed and persecuted race; believed in slavery; +considered the Lincoln government a perfect despotism, +etc. In short, his views were a general epitome of the +speeches, proclamations, and messages of the leading rebels +throughout the South. I listened to him with great +patience. He had an interesting family on board, all of +whom spoke English; and what struck me as peculiar, +a species of negro English common in the Southern +States. “Sir,” said I, at length, “you surprise me! I +had not expected to meet so strong an advocate of slavery +and slave institutions in this latitude. Can it be +possible that you are a Finn?” “Yes, sir,” he answered, +“a genuine Finn—now on a visit to my native country +after an absence of twenty-five years.” “Then you must +have lived in the South?” “Yes, sir; in Montgomery, +Alabama. I have property there. It was getting pretty +bad there for a family, and I thought I had better pay +a visit to Finland while the war was going on.” This +accounted for the peculiar sentiments of my fellow-traveler! +He seemed to be a very nice old gentleman, and +I was sorry to find him tinctured with the heresies of rebellion. +Farther conversation with him satisfied me that +if he could get his property out of Montgomery, and put +it in Massachusetts, he would be a very respectable Union +man. I don’t think his heart was in the movement, +though his pocket, doubtless, felt a considerable interest +in it.</p> + +<p>The town of Abo, formerly the capital of Finland—now +a place of no great importance except as a custom-house +and military station—is beautifully situated on +the banks of a river called the Aurajoki, about three +miles above its mouth. Vessels of medium draught, including +the coasting steamers, have no difficulty in ascending +as far as the bridge, where they lie alongside +the wharves and receive or discharge freight. Those of +larger draught usually anchor off the village of Boxholm, +a picturesque gathering of red cottages, with +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</a></span> +high peaked roofs, situated at the entrance of the river. +Above the village, on the summit of a rocky cliff, stands +the fort of Abohus, ready at a moment’s notice to pour +a broadside into any enemy of Imperial Russia that may +undertake to pass up the river.</p> + +<p>Abo, since the removal of the capital and University +to Helsingfors and the great conflagration of 1827, which +destroyed two thirds of the town, has fallen into decay, +and now does not contain a population of more than ten +or twelve thousand souls. Spread over an area of several +miles square, with a sufficient number of houses to +accommodate twice or three times the population, its +broad, stone-paved thoroughfares and numerous untenanted +buildings have a peculiarly desolate appearance. +Back a little from the river the pedestrian may walk +half a mile at midday without meeting a single soul in +the streets. A dead silence reigns over these deserted +quarters, as if the prevailing lethargy had fallen upon +the few inhabitants that remain. Grass grows on the +sidewalks, and the basement walls of the houses are covered +with moss. A dank, chilly mildew seems to hang +in the air. One might become green all over, like a neglected +tomb-stone, should he forget himself and stand +too long in one spot. I spent a considerable portion of +the day rambling through these melancholy by-ways, and +must admit that the effect upon my spirits was not cheering. +Now and then the apparition of some cadaverous +old woman, wrinkled with age—a greenish hue upon her +features—would appear unexpectedly at some unexpected +opening in one of the ruinous old houses, and startle +me by a gaze of wonder or some unintelligible speech +addressed to herself. Probably a human being had not +been seen in that vicinity for the last month. Sometimes +a slatternly servant-girl would appear in the distance, +her dress bedraggled with slops, a tub of water +on the pavement close by, and a long-handled mop in her +hand, with which she seemed to be vigorously engaged +in scrubbing the green slime and tufts of moss off the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</a></span> +window-sills; but catching a sight of the strangers, down +would go the mop, and then the usual hasty attempt +would be made at fixing her hair and otherwise increasing +her personal charms. As I drew near, this useful +member of society would naturally take a sidelong glance +at the strange gentleman, and perceiving that he was +uncommonly attractive in personal appearance, it was +quite natural she should make a neat little courtesy and +say “<i>Got Aften!</i>” to which, of course, I always responded +in the most affable manner, not forgetting to say to +myself, in an audible tone, “Sken Jumfru!”—a pretty +girl. No harm in that, is there?</p> + +<p>In the afternoon I walked out to a public garden about +two miles from town, where there are some very pleasant +promenades, a large building containing a ballroom, +and numerous pavilions for refreshments. It was a festive +occasion, and the élite and fashion of Abo were assembled +there in their best attire. The music was inspiring. +Dancing seemed contagious. The ballroom +was crowded, and old and young were whirling about +on the light fantastic toe with a zest and spirit truly inspiring. +Old gentlemen with bald heads seemed to have +forgotten their age and infirmities, and whirled the +blooming damsels around in the dizzy mazes of the waltz +as dexterously as the youngest; and young gentlemen +hopped about quite frantic with joy, and altogether bewildered +with the beauty of their partners. It was really +a pretty sight. Rarely had I seen so many pleasant +faces of both sexes, especially those of the ladies. Good-humor, +simplicity, and frankness were their predominant +traits. All ceremony seemed to be cast aside, and every +body participated in the dance as if it were one great +family frolic. The formality of introduction was dispensed +with, or probably most of the guests were already +acquainted. The fiddlers scraped louder and louder; +wilder and faster blew the horns, and on went the dance +with increasing vigor. I was getting excited—the spirit +of the thing was contagious. Though not much of a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</a></span> +dancer, yet I had occasionally in my life filled a place in +a reel or a cotillon. Waltzing, to be sure, was a little +beyond my experience, but I had a general idea of the +figure, and could not perceive that there was any thing +very difficult about it. Most of the waltzers here whirled +around with great ease, and I could see no reason +why it would not be entirely practicable for an active +man like myself, who thought nothing of climbing high +mountains or jumping across small rivers, to do the +same. Besides, these people were strangers; it would +be a good opportunity to try my skill. Doubtless, any +of the young ladies would oblige me if I asked them to +dance. They seemed to oblige every body that asked +them, and showed no signs of fatigue. Indeed, they +looked fresher and more vigorous after every bout. I +was particularly charmed with the appearance of one +young lady. Her complexion was florid, and her figure +absolutely magnificent. At a rough guess she must +have weighed a hundred and eighty pounds. Every +time she whirled past me I could feel the floor give way. +Her partner was rather small, and revolved around her +like a planet round the sun. When she laughed, which +was nearly all the time, her beautiful mouth opened at +least two thirds of the way across her face, revealing a +set of teeth to which flakes of snow, pearls, or any thing +of that kind could bear no comparison. The extraordinary +vigor of this girl, her tremendous powers of endurance, +her weight, beauty, and good-humor, rendered +her a general favorite. She was, in fact, the belle of the +room. To dance with her would be an honorable distinction. +Now I am naturally a modest man, but of late +years that defect has been gradually disappearing from +my character. I resolved to dance with this girl—if she +would consent. As soon as there was a pause, therefore, +I made bold to go up to her, and, with a very polite +bow, solicited her hand—in English. She didn’t understand +English, but she understood dancing, and answered +me very politely in Swedish, “Ja!” I think my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</a></span> +dress and manner, together with my ignorance of the +Swedish language, had rather a favorable effect. She +certainly looked complimented and gratified. I saw her +turn round her head as we stood up, and laugh at the +other girls, which I interpreted to mean that she, of all +in the room, had succeeded in catching the distinguished +stranger. Well, the music started—it was a German +waltz. I stood holding on to my partner as the ivy +clings to the solid oak. Never did I feel so firm a girl. +Had she been formed of lead she could not have felt +more substantial. Now, thought I, away we’ll spin over +the floor, a living duet, altogether accidental, but beautiful +to behold—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Like the sweet tunes that wandering meet,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so harmoniously they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hearer dreams they are but one.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>There was only one consideration that gave me any particular +anxiety. Being of a light and slender figure, I +had some apprehensions that in the giddy whirl of the +waltz this powerful young lady might accidentally throw +me out of balance and create an unpleasant scene. However, +there was no time for reflection. At a given signal, +away she started with tremendous energy. I did +my best to whirl her round, and don’t think it would be +possible for any body to do any better under the circumstances; +but she didn’t keep time—or I didn’t. Round +and round the room we flew, to the inspiring strains of +the music, with an undulating motion very difficult to +conceive, and still more difficult to execute without danger +to the other dancers. The warm blood rushed to +my face; my head grew dizzy: the only thing I saw +was that this style of waltzing must end in destruction +to myself or somebody else. I was fairly lifted off my +feet at every turn, and found myself absolutely hanging +on to my partner to keep from falling. She never relaxed +in her vigorous movements one moment; but as +the music increased in spirit, so did she. The room was +filled with waltzers. It was impossible to be flying +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</a></span> +about in this way without hitting somebody. I knew it +from the very beginning, but what could I do? The +first man down was an old gentleman. I begged his +pardon, and helped him up again. Next I was dashed +against a young lady. She and her partner both went +down. I helped them up, and begged pardon again, +which was granted with great good-humor. After that, +most of the waltzers began to get out of the way, so that +we presently had a more enlarged scope of operations. +I fancy there was something uncommon in my style of +waltzing that attracted attention. It was not long before +we had the entire circle to ourselves, the crowd +standing around and manifesting the most intense appreciation +of our efforts. All went on very well for a while. +Up and down the room, and round and round we whirled, +and at every whirl there was a murmur of admiration +and applause. My beautiful partner shook her sides +as if convulsed with an earthquake—I could feel the motion, +but was unable to conjecture the cause. Possibly +she was getting agitated—or it might be that sentiments +of tenderness were stealing over her heart. That idea, or +something else, confused me. I struck out one foot a +little awkwardly. She tripped against it, whirled me +half round in attempting to gain her balance, and then +we fell. It was very awkward. What rendered it still +more unpleasant, every body began to laugh. People +always do laugh at the misfortunes of others. I would +have picked the young lady up at once, or at least tried +it (for she was rather heavy), but the fact is, I fell underneath, +and was utterly unable to move. Had I been +pinned and riveted to the floor, I could not have been +in a more helpless position. A man whose natural instincts +are polite is surely a subject of sympathy and +commiseration under such a pressure of difficulties as +this. I breathed hard, but was unable to get out a single +word of apology, till, with, a laugh and a bound, my +fair partner regained her feet, and then she very good-naturedly +assisted me in regaining mine. Mortified +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</a></span> +beyond measure, I conducted her to a seat. As I was +passing out of the room soon after, a new waltz struck +up. The dancers went at it again as lively as ever. I +turned to see what had become of my partner. She +was whirling over the floor with undiminished energy +in the arms of a young gentleman in military uniform. +He may have been more accustomed to waltzing than I +was, but I think any person present—not excepting the +young lady herself—would have been willing to admit +that his style did not compare with mine in force and +individuality. It certainly produced no such effect upon +the audience.</p> + +<p>I walked back to town a sober and thoughtful man. +This dancing business is a very foolish pastime. It may +do very well for giddy and thoughtless young persons, +but for men of mature years it is the height of folly. I +am surprised that they should be led aside from their +customary propriety by the fascinations of beauty.</p> + +<p>The sun was just setting. Its last rays rested upon +the ruined walls of the Observatory. I followed a crowd +of citizens who were slowly toiling up the stone steps, +and, after a pretty hard climb, was rewarded with a +magnificent view of the city and surrounding country. +The rocky pinnacle upon which the Observatory stands +rises some three hundred feet above the banks of the +river, and overlooks a large portion of the valley of the +Aurajoki. The winding waters of the river; the green +fields; patches of woodland, villas, and gardens; the blue +mountains in the distance, and the silent city lying like +a mouldering corpse beneath, presented a scene singularly +picturesque and impressive. I sat down upon the +ruined walls and thought of Abo in its glory—the ancient +head-quarters of Christianity in Finland; the last +abiding-place of the beautiful Caroline Morsson, the peasant +queen of Sweden, wife of Eric XII., who died here, +and whose remains lie in the Cathedral—the city of the +mighty hosts of warlike Finns who fought under the +banner of Charles XII., and made a funeral pyre of their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</a></span> +bodies upon the bloody field of Puttara. The present +Finns are of this heroic race. Not less brave, yet less +fortunate than the Spartans of Thermopylæ, they have +lost their country and their freedom, and now groan under +the oppression of a despotic government.</p> + +<p>While thus musing on the past, a strain of delicious +music broke the stillness. I rambled over the granite +cliffs in the direction of the sound, and soon came to a +grove of trees, with an open space in the middle, occupied +by a band of musicians, who were surrounded by a +group of citizens, thus pleasantly passing the summer +evening. Booths and tents were scattered about in every +direction, in which cakes and refreshments were to be +had; and gay parties of young people were seated on +long planks so arranged as to make a kind of spring seats, +upon which they bounced up and down to the time of +the music. Children were playing upon the grass, their +merry shouts of laughter mingling pleasantly with the +national air performed by the band. On the moss-covered +rocks sat groups of young ladies, guarded by their +amiable mothers or discreet duennas, as the case might +be, trying hard not to see any of the young gentlemen +who lounged about in the same vicinity; and young gentlemen +prowled about puffing cigars as if they didn’t +care a straw whether the young ladies looked at them or +not—both being, of course, according to the established +usages of society, natural enemies of each other. For the +life of me, I can’t tell why it is that young ladies and gentlemen +should be thus everlastingly at war. Would it +not be better to kiss and make it up, and try, if possible, +to get along peaceably through the world?</p> + +<p>But the steamer blows her whistle—the bell rings—I +must hurry on board. Good-by, dear Finns, big and little, +I like you all. God bless you! Good-by old Abo, +with your ancient church, and your moss-grown streets, +and deserts of houses—I feel sorry for you, but I can’t +help it! Good-by, Russia! If I don’t call again, attribute +it to no want of interest in the great cause of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</a></span> +civilization. Just drop me a line and let me know when the +serfs are free and a constitutional government is established, +and I will strain a point to pay my respects to Alexander +II. I rather like the young man, and have an +idea that he is capable of noble deeds and heroic sacrifices. +But he must abolish his secret police, punish them +for whipping women, open universities upon a liberal basis, +throw the camarilla and the aristocracy overboard, +quit murdering the poor Poles at Warsaw, and do several +other things before he can have my support. Should +he accomplish these beneficial reforms, and at any future +time think proper to settle in my neighborhood, where +the climate is more genial, I shall cheerfully vote for him +as mayor of the city of Oakland.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV.</h2> + +<h3>STOCKHOLM.</h3> + + +<p>The passage from Abo to Stockholm occupies about +eighteen hours, and in fine weather affords a constant +succession of agreeable scenes. With the exception of +about four hours of open sea in crossing the Gulf of +Bothnia, the steamer is constantly surrounded by islands, +many of them highly picturesque, and all interesting +from their peculiar geological formation. Occasionally +the island winds like a snake through a wilderness of +naked granite boulders, round and slippery, and barely +high enough out of the water to afford a foundation for +a few fishermen’s huts, which from time to time break +the monotony of their solitude. Sometimes the channel +opens out into broad lakes, apparently hemmed in on all +sides by pine-covered cliffs; then passing between a series +of frightful crags, upthrown, as it were, out of the +water by some convulsion of nature, the surging waves +lash their way through the narrow passages, and threaten +each moment to ingulf the frail vessel, or dash it to +atoms against the rocks. The greatest danger in making +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</a></span> +this trip arises from the number of sunken rocks, +which often approach to within a few feet of the surface +without being visible. The depth is usually marked by +poles or buoys, and it often happens that the steamer +plies her way for hours between these water-marks, +where there is no other indication of danger. The +Swedish and Finnish pilots are proverbially among the +best in the world. We had an old Finn on board—a +shaggy old sea-dog, rough and weather-beaten as any of +the rocks on his own rock-bound coast, who, I venture +to say, never slept a wink during the entire passage, or +if he did, it was all the same. He knew every rock, big +and little, visible and invisible, that lay on the entire +route between Abo and Stockholm, and could see them +all with his eyes shut. An uncouth, hardy, honest old +monster was this Finn—a Caliban of a fellow, half human, +half fish—with a great sou’wester on his head, a +rough monkey-jacket buttoned around his body, and a +pair of boots on his legs that must have been designed +for wading over coral reefs, through seas of swordfish, +shovel-nosed sharks, and unicorns. His broad, honest +face looked for all the world like a granite boulder covered +with barnacles and sea-weed, and ornamented by a +bunch of mussels for a nose, and a pair of shining blue +pebbles by way of eyes; and when he spoke, which was +not often, his voice sounded like the keel of a fishing-smack +grating over a bank of gravel. I strongly suspect +his father was a sea-lion and his mother a grampus +or scragg whale, and that he was fished up out of the +sea when young by some hardy son of Neptune, and +subsequently trained up in the ways of humanity on +board a fishing-smack, where the food consisted of polypi, +lobsters, and black bread. Yet there was something +wonderfully genial about this old pilot. He chewed +enormous quantities of tobacco, the stains of which +around his mouth greatly improved the beauty of his +countenance; and when he was not chewing pigtail he +was smoking it, which equally contributed to soften the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[250]</a></span> +asperities of his features. Having sailed in many seas, +he spoke many languages, but none very intelligibly, +owing to some radical defect in the muscles of his mouth. +As to the channel between Abo and Stockholm, which +lies partly through the Aland Islands and numerous adjacent +rocks, above and below water, I believe he had +traveled over it so often that he could steer a vessel +through it standing backward as readily as box the +compass, or shut both his eyes and tell where the deepest +water lay by the smell of the air and the taste of his +tobacco.</p> + +<p>The passage across the Gulf of Bothnia was somewhat +rough, and most of the passengers were sea-sick, owing, +no doubt, to the short chopping motion which prevails +on board of all kinds of sea-going vessels in these inland +seas. Having performed various voyages in various +parts of the world, I was, of course, exempt from this +annoyance; but my digestion had been impaired in Russia +by the vast quantity of tea, cucumbers, veal, cabbage-soup, +and other horrible mixtures which I had been +forced to consume while there, and which now began to +tell on my constitution. Notwithstanding repeated doses +of cognac, taken from time to time as I walked the decks, +the sea began to whirl all round, the clouds overhead to +swing about at random through the rigging, and the +odor of the machinery to produce the strongest and +most disagreeable sensations. I went below to see how +things looked there; but, finding the atmosphere dense +and the prospect gloomy, returned in great haste and +looked over the bulwarks to see how fast we were going +through the water. While thus engaged, an amusing +thought occurred to me. Suppose the mermaids +who lie down in the briny depths form their ideas of +the beauty of the human countenance from the casual +glimpses thus afforded of our features, would it be possible +for the most susceptible of them to fall in love with us? +The idea was so droll that I was almost convulsed with +laughter; but, not wishing to attract attention by laughing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[251]</a></span> +aloud at my own thoughts, I merely clung to the +bulwarks and doubled myself up, trying to avoid the appearance +of eccentricity. At or about the same moment, +the old Finnish pilot, with whom I had formed an acquaintance, +came along, and said good-naturedly, “Hello, +sir! I dink you pe sea-sick.” “Sea-sick?” said I, a little +nettled. “Oh no, Herr Pilot, I’m an old sailor, and never +get sea-sick.” “Vel, I dought you was sick—you +look bad, sir,” answered the good old pilot; “de sea is +very rough, sir.” Here the steamer took a notion to +pitch down into the water and jump up again suddenly, +and then rolled on one side and then on the other, and +at the same time a number of the passengers began to +make grotesque and disagreeable noises, which amused +me so much that I had to turn away my face and look +at the water again to avoid laughing. “Sir,” said the +old pilot, who observed the contortions of mirth by which +I was moved, “vil you have some schnapps? I dink +schnapps is goot for de sea-sick.” “Thank you,” said I, +the tears streaming from my eyes, “I won’t have any +just now.” “Vel, ’twon’t last long, any how,” suggested +the good-natured monster. “By’m-by we be up to +Vaxholm—in pout two hours. Dere’s land! Don’t you +see it?” I saw it, and right glad I was too, for it is always +refreshing to see land from the deck of a steamer. +In half an hour more we entered a smooth stretch of water, +and soon the wood-covered islands and shores of +Sweden were close ahead.</p> + +<p>Passing the fortress of Waxholm, we entered the magnificent +fjord or arm of the sea which extends for a distance +of ten or twelve miles up to the city. The scenery +on this part of the route is very fine. All along the +shores of the main land and adjacent islands rugged cliffs +of granite reared their hoary crests over the waters of the +fjord. Forests of oak and pine cover the rolling background, +and beautiful villas, with parterres and blooming +gardens, peep from every glen. Sometimes for miles the +solitude of the forests and rock-bound shores is unbroken, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[252]</a></span> +save by an occasional fisherman’s hut or an open +patch of green pasture; then suddenly, upon turning a +point, a group of red-roofed villas glimmer through the +foliage; sail-boats are seen gliding over the water with +gay companies of ladies and gentlemen from the city enjoying +the fresh breeze that sweeps up from the Gulf; +now a hay-boat or a clumsy lugger laden with wood +drifts along lazily toward the grand centre of trade; and +as we approach nearer to the dim smoke-cloud that hangs +over the city, big and little craft gather thicker and thicker +before us, till the whole fjord seems alive with masts +and sails. Soon the outlines of the churches and castles +break through the dim distance, and, like some grand +optical illusion, the whole city gradually opens up before +us.</p> + +<p>To say that I was charmed with the first view of Stockholm +would but faintly express the feelings with which +I gazed upon this beautiful metropolis of the North. +Though different in almost every essential particular, it +has been not unaptly compared to Venice; and certainly, +if the sparkling waters from which it seems to rise, +the wood-covered islands, the rich and varied outlines +of its churches and castles, the forests of shipping at its +wharves, the many-colored sail-boats and gondolas sweeping +hither and thither, the glowing atmosphere, and surrounding +gardens, villas, temples, and pavilions, can entitle +it to that distinction, Stockholm well deserves to +rank with the Queen City of the Adriatic.</p> + +<p>The landing for the Baltic steamers is at the head quay +called the Skepsbron, which in summer is well lined with +shipping, and presents rather an animated appearance. +Very little formality is observed in regard to the baggage +of passengers, and passports are not required, or at +least no demand was made upon me for mine. All I had +to do was to show my knapsack to the custom-house officer, +who put a chalk-mark upon it, signifying, no doubt, +that it contained nothing contraband; after which I +stepped ashore, and, aided by a friendly fellow-passenger, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[253]</a></span> +found lodgings at a dirty little hotel close by, called the +“Stadt Frankfort.” If there is any worse place to be +found in Stockholm, it must be the very worst on the +face of the earth, for the “Stadt Frankfort” is next thing +to it. Being dirty and foul of smell, and abounding in +vermin, of course the charges are, as usual in such cases, +proportionally high, for which reason I recommend it +to any gentleman traveling in this direction whose main +object is to get rid of his money for an equivalent of filth, +fleas, bugs, bad bread, and worse coffee. The main part +of the city, embracing the King’s Palace, the Bourse, the +Church of St. Nicholas, the Barracks and public buildings, +is built upon an island fronting the Baltic on the +one side and the Malar Lake on the other. This is the +most populous and interesting part, though the streets +are narrow and irregular, and the houses generally old +and dilapidated, with dark, gloomy fronts, and a very +fishy and primitive expression of countenance. The new +parts of the city, called the Normalm to the north and +the Sodmalm to the south, which are connected with the +island by bridges, have some fine streets and handsome +rows of buildings in the modern style, especially the +Normalm, which contains the King’s Garden, the Arsenal, +the Opera-house, and the principal hotels and residences +of the foreign ministers. This part of Stockholm +will compare favorably with second or third-rate cities +in Germany; for it must be borne in mind that, striking +as the external aspect of Stockholm is, the interior is +very far from sustaining the illusion of grandeur cast +around it by the scenic beauties of its position. In nothing +is the traveler more disappointed than the almost +total absence of business excitement. With the exception +of a few stevedores at work on the wharves and a +trifling jostle at the market-places, the whole city seems +to be sitting down in its Northern solitude, waiting, like +Mr. Micawber, for something to turn up. In some parts +one may walk half a mile without hearing a sound save +the echo of his own footsteps. It is, emphatically, a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[254]</a></span> +“slow” place—so slow, indeed, compared with the marts +of commerce to which I had been accustomed in California +(especially the city of Oakland), that I was constantly +impressed with the idea that every body was fast +asleep, and that if three or four of them should happen +to wake at the same time, it would be fearfully startling +to hear their eyelids crack open and the hollow streets +echo to their yawns.</p> + +<p>But don’t understand this as a reflection upon the +Swedish race. They are industrious and energetic when +occasion requires, but, like all people who live at the extreme +North, acquire tropical habits of indolence from +the climate. During the tedious winters, when the days +are but six hours long, all who can afford it become torpid, +like frogs, and lie up in their houses till the summer +sun thaws them out. Balls, parties, and sleigh-riding occasionally +rouse them up, but lethargy is the general +rule. The warm weather comes very suddenly, and then +the days are eighteen hours long. This being the season +of outdoor pleasure, it is spent in visits to the country +or lounging about the gardens, sitting on spring +benches and enjoying the sunshine.</p> + +<p>The Swedish soldiers are a fine-looking race of men, +far superior in stature and general appearance to the soldiers +of Russia. They are well drilled, bold, and manly, +and have fine faces, full of spirit and intelligence. Wherever +these men are led, they will now, as in past times, +give the enemies of their country some trouble. I consider +them the finest soldiers in Northern Europe.</p> + +<p>The general aspect of the citizens of Stockholm is that +of extreme plainness and simplicity. I take them to be +an honest, substantial, and reliable people, well educated +and intelligent; satisfied with themselves and the world, +and proud of their country and its history. Politeness +is a national characteristic. Every person, of high and +low degree, upon entering a shop, takes off his hat, and +remains with uncovered head while making his purchase. +Gentlemen who meet on the street knock the tops of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[255]</a></span> +their “tiles” against their knees, and continue to bow at +each other long after they have passed. In feature and +general appearance the Swedes are handsomer than the +southern races of Europe, and for that reason wear a +nearer resemblance to the Americans. I saw several men +in Stockholm who would not have done discredit to California, +in point of fine faces and commanding figures. +The Swedish ladies are proverbially beautiful. It was +really refreshing, after my visit to Russia, to see so many +pretty women as I met here. Light hair, oval features, +sparkling blue eyes, and forms of intoxicating grace and +beauty—ah me! why should such dangers be permitted +to threaten the defenseless traveler with instant destruction, +when the law provides for his protection against +other disasters by land and sea, assault and battery, false +imprisonment and highway robbery? Yet here were +lovely creatures, gliding about at large, shooting mutilation +and death out of their bright blue eyes, and apparently +as indifferent to the slaughter they committed as +if it were the finest fun in the world! Talk of your +French beauties, your Italian beauties, your Spanish beauties! +Give me, for the impersonation of soul expressed +in the human form divine—for features “woven from the +music of the spheres and painted with the hues of the +aurora borealis”—a Swedish beauty, the nearest approach +upon earth to an American beauty, which, being altogether +angelic, must ever remain the highest type of +perfection known to mankind.</p> + +<p>I don’t wonder Swedenborg made so many heavens +for his female characters. His “conjugal felicity” required +at least seven. One small heaven, constructed +upon the Swedish plan, would certainly afford but limited +accommodations for all the beauties of Stockholm.</p> + +<p>A day or two after my arrival in Stockholm I called +to Mr. Fristadius, the American consul, from whom +I obtained the latest news in reference to the progress +of the rebellion. Accustomed as we are in the United +States to read the newspapers every morning, wherever +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[256]</a></span> +we may happen to be, the deprivations in this respect to +which an American traveler in Europe is subjected must +be experienced to be fully appreciated. Even in the +principal cities of Germany it is difficult to find a newspaper +that contains any thing more than a notice of the +price of stocks, a few telegraphic items about the petty +court movements of neighboring cities, a rehash of slander +upon our country from the London <i>Times</i>, or an item +of news about the war, in which the states are misplaced, +the names misspelled, and the most important points +omitted. I do not think there is a village press in California +that would not be ashamed to turn out such trashy +little sheets as are issued in Frankfort; and as for the +matter of fairness and honesty, it is rare to find an independent +newspaper in any part of Europe. To suppress +truth and subserve some military or financial interest is +the business for which they are paid. Making due allowance +for party prejudices, you may guess at the truth in +most of our American journals, but it would be a waste +of time to search for it in the newspapers published on +this side of the water. While they studiously refrain +from indecorous language, they are corrupt and unreliable +beyond any thing known in California, and have not +even the merit of being energetic and entertaining liars. +This is the case in Russia and Finland as well as in Germany. +Where the press is subjected to a rigid censorship, +it is of course useless to look for reliable information, +and as for late intelligence, it does not travel through +official bureaus. Before leaving Frankfort I had news +to the 28th of June. A week after my arrival at St. Petersburg +the same news was promulgated in that city. +On my return from Moscow I had the pleasure of reading +the details in an American newspaper. One or two +mutilated telegraphic dispatches seemed to sharpen my +appetite during the trip to Revel, Helsingfors, Abo, and +Stockholm; and now, arrived at the head-quarters of +Swedish civilization, after searching in vain for a late +English or American newspaper at the principal cafés, I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[257]</a></span> +was compelled to make application to our consul, in the +faint hope that he might be an occasional reader of that +ephemeral species of literature. Fortunately, Mr. Fristadius +had spent some time in the United States, and +learned to appreciate the magnitude and importance of +the struggle in which we were engaged.</p> + +<p>I had the pleasure, during my sojourn in Stockholm, +of getting a glimpse of Swedish social life in one of its +most agreeable phases. Mr. Fristadius, who is a Swede +by birth and education, and occupies a prominent position +as one of the leading iron-merchants of Stockholm, +was kind enough to invite me to an entertainment at his +villa, situated about four miles from the city, on one of +the prettiest little islands in the Malar Lake.</p> + +<p>At an early hour in the afternoon, the company, which +consisted of thirty or forty ladies and gentlemen, assembled +by appointment at a wharf near one of the principal +bridges, where a small steam-boat belonging to Mr. +Fristadius was in waiting. I was a little astonished, not +to say taken aback, at the display of elegant dresses, liveried +servants, and white kid gloves that graced the occasion, +and looked at my dusty and travel-worn coat, +slouched hat, and sunburnt hands—for which there was +no remedy—with serious thoughts of a hasty retreat. +One doesn’t like to be a savage among civilized people; +yet, if one undertakes to travel with little baggage and +less money, what can he do, unless he holds himself aloof +from the world altogether, which is not the best way of +seeing it? There was no time for reflection, however; +the whistle was blowing, and we were hurried on board +by our kind host, who seemed determined to make every +body as happy as possible. The trip down the lake was +delightful. On either side the hills and islands were +dotted with villas and gardens; sail-boats were skimming +over the water with gay parties intent on pleasure; +the views of the city from every turn were picturesque +beyond description, and the weather was quite enchanting. +As we swept along on our course, the gentlemen +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[258]</a></span> +of the party, who were nearly all Swedes, united in a +wild and beautiful Scandinavian glee, the mellow strains +of which swept over the water, and were echoed from +the wooded islands and shores of the lake with a magnificent +effect. Whether it was the scenery, the weather, +or the singing, or all combined, I could scarcely tell, but +this little trip was certainly an episode in life to be remembered +with pleasure in after years. In about half +an hour we drew near a perfect little Paradise of an island, +upon which, half hidden in shrubbery and flowers, +stood the villa of our friend, Mr. Fristadius. Here were +winding graveled walks overhung by rich foliage; beds +of flowers in full bloom; grottoes of rock laved by the +waters of the lake; immense boulders of granite surmounted +by rustic pavilions; hedges of privet and hawthorn +to mark the by-paths; a miniature bridge from the +main island across to a smaller island, upon which stood +an aquatic temple for the fishing-boats and gondolas; +with a wharf jutting out into the deep water at which +the little steam-boat landed. Nothing could be more +unique than the whole place. Nature and art seemed +to have united to give it the most captivating effects of +wildness, seclusion, comfort, and elegance. It was Crusoe-life +idealized. As we approached the landing-place, +the interesting family of our host, surrounded by numerous +friends, stood upon a little eminence awaiting our +arrival. While we gazed with pleasurable emotions at +the pretty scene before us, a most delicate and appropriate +compliment was paid to our excellent minister, Mr. +Haldeman, and his accomplished wife, who were of the +party. The American flag was hoisted upon a pole near +the landing by Mrs. Fristadius, and the company with +one accord arose and greeted with three cheers this glorious +emblem of liberty. I shall never forget the mingled +feelings of pride and pleasure with which I looked +upon the stars and stripes once more, after months of +dreary depression in countries where freedom is but a +glimmering hope in the human heart. But here in Sweden +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[259]</a></span> +the spirit of our institutions is appreciated; here I +found myself surrounded by noble and trusty friends of +the American Union, loyal to their own liberal government, +yet devoted to the great cause of human freedom +wherever it can exist consistently with the progress of +the times and the capacity of the people for self-government. +As the flag waved in the breeze, an inspiring +song of liberty burst from the joyous company—one of +those soul-stirring songs of Belman, which find a response +in the breast of every Swede—wild, impassioned, +and patriotic, breathing in every word and intonation +the chivalrous spirit of men whose ancestry had fought +under the glorious banners of Gustavus Adolphus.</p> + +<p>As soon as the song was concluded the little steam-boat +drew up to the wharf, where we were most kindly +and cordially greeted by the family of our host. After +a pleasant ramble about the grounds we proceeded to +the house, which is situated on a picturesque eminence +overlooking the lake, and the adjacent shores and islands. +Here, in a large and elegant saloon, opening on all sides +upon a spacious veranda, a sumptuous collation was +spread. The company lounged about without ceremony, +eating, drinking, and enjoying themselves as they +pleased; wit and wine flowed together, unrestrained by +the slightest formality. In the midst of our “feast of +reason and flow of soul,” Mr. Fristadius made a neat and +appropriate little speech of “welcome to all his friends,” +which was followed by a song from the musical gentlemen; +after which he proposed a toast to a young married +couple present. This was followed by another song. +Then there was a toast to the American flag, another +speech and a song, to which Mr. Haldeman, our minister, +responded in such terms of enthusiasm and complimentary +allusion to the Swedish nation that there was a general +outburst of applause. I had hoped, in view of my +rustic garb, to escape notice, and was snugly barricaded +in a corner behind a table, looking on quietly and enjoying +the scene, when, to my great astonishment, a toast +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[260]</a></span> +was proposed “to the <span class="smcap">Distinguished Traveler from +California</span>!” In vain I looked about me to see if any +prominent gentleman of my acquaintance from California +would step forward and answer to the summons, when +I was gently but firmly captured by our host, and duly +brought forth to respond to the charge! Never having +made a speech in my life, I could only seize hold of a +wine-glass (which I think belonged to somebody else), +and in the confusion of the moment drink spontaneously +to the great traveler from California! Then there was +an inspiring glee from the lively young gentlemen who +did the music.</p> + +<p>Thus passed the time till dinner was over, when we +adjourned to the garden for coffee and cigars. Seated +under the wide-spreading trees, in the balmy air of this +summer evening, we had songs and recitations of Scandinavian +poetry, anecdotes, and humorous dissertations +till nearly midnight. I do not remember that I ever +participated in a more rational or delightful entertainment. +After a farewell glee to our host we marched +down to the wharf, where the boat was in waiting, and +embarked for Stockholm. I can only add that I was +charmed with the refinement and intelligence of Swedish +society, as far as I could judge of it by this casual +glimpse. From many of the guests I received cordial +invitations to prolong my sojourn, and the next morning +found two or three of the gentlemen in readiness to show +me every thing of interest about the city.</p> + +<p>We visited the Museum, where there is an interesting +assortment of Scandinavian antiquities, and the palace, +and some half a dozen other places, all of which came in +the regular routine of sight-seeing; but the fact is, I am +getting dreadfully tired of this systematic way of lionizing +the cities of Europe. I turn pale at the sight of a +museum, shudder at a church, feel weak in the knees at +the bare thought of a picture-gallery, and as for antiquities, +they make my flesh creep. Between you and myself, +dear reader, I wouldn’t give a sou-markee for all the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[261]</a></span> +old bones gathered up during the last eighteen centuries, +unless to start a bone-mill and sell the dust at a remunerative +profit.</p> + +<p>After all, the more I saw of Stockholm the more the +blues began to creep over me. It is depressingly slow +in these far Northern cities; so slow, indeed, I don’t +wonder every thing has a mildewed and sepulchral aspect. +The houses look like slimy tombs in a grave-yard; +the atmosphere, when the sun does not happen +to shine—which is more than half the time—is dank and +flat, and hangs upon one’s spirits like a nightmare, crushing +out by degrees the very germ of vitality. I am not +surprised that paralysis and hip-disease are frightfully +prevalent in Stockholm.</p> + +<p>Give me California forever—the land of sunshine and +progress. I have seen no country like it yet. When I +think of old times there, a terrible home-sickness takes +possession of me. So help me, friends and fellow-citizens, +I’d sooner be a pack-mule in California with a raw +back, and be owned by a Mexican greaser, employed +week in and week out in carrying barrels of whisky over +the Downieville trail, fed on three grains of barley per +day, and turned out to browse on quartz rock and sage-bushes +every night—I’d rather be a miserable little burro, +kicked and cuffed by a Mariposa Chinaman—I’d rather +be a dog and bay the moon in the city of Oakland, or +a toad and feed upon the vapors of a dungeon at San +Quentin—I’d rather be a lamp-post on the corner of +Montgomery Street, San Francisco, and be leaned against, +and hugged, and kissed alternately by every loafer out +of the Montgomery saloon—I’d rather be any of these +than a human being compelled to live permanently in +Europe, with a palace in every city, town, and village, +and an income of fifty thousand dollars a day to defray +expenses; so don’t be surprised if I should turn up again +one of these fine mornings on the Pacific coast. The +only difficulty at present is—a collapse in the financial +department.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[262]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV.</h2> + +<h3>WALKS ABOUT STOCKHOLM.</h3> + + +<p>If you expect any very lively or striking pictures of +Stockholm from a tourist like myself, whose besetting +trouble in life is a constitutional melancholy, I am afraid +you will be disappointed. It is beyond doubt one of +the most agreeable cities in the North, and, so far as +public institutions are concerned, affords a fine field of +research for the antiquarian and the naturalist. Any +enterprising gentleman who desires to improve his mind +by the study of Puffendorf can here find the original. +Linnæus, Berzelius, and others will materially assist him +in grasping at the mysteries of animated creation; and +if he be of a poetical turn, he can enjoy Belman in the +unadulterated Scandinavian metre. For me, however, +the public museums and libraries possessed only an external +interest. I would gladly have devoted the remainder +of my life to Scandinavian researches, but, having +several other important matters to attend to, I was +reluctantly forced to give up the idea. The main object +at present was to escape from “an eternal lethargy of +woe,” which seemed to grow worse and worse every +day. I really had nothing particular to afflict me, yet I +both felt and looked like “a man sore acquaint with +grief.” Day after day I wandered about the streets in +search of excitement. All in vain; such a luxury is unknown +to strangers in Stockholm. I visited the fruit-markets, +jostled about among the simple and kind-hearted +peasants, bought bunches of cherries and baskets of +raspberries from the pretty peasant-girls, and then stood +eating my way into their acquaintance, while they +laughed, and talked, and wondered where in the world +such a strange man came from, and when I told them I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[263]</a></span> +came from California they looked incredulous, having +probably never of such a country. Then I strolled +down through the fish-market, where there were a great +many queer fish exposed for sale by ancient and slimy +old men and women, whose hands and aprons were covered +with fish-scales, and whose faces had a very fishy +expression. They offered me fish in every shape—skinned, +gutted, chopped up, or whole, just as I pleased to +buy them. One wrinkled old woman, with a voice much +broken by shouting against the Gulf storms from high +rocks, or some such cause, called my attention to a monster +fish that must have weighed at least sixty pounds, +and insisted upon letting me have it at a reduced price. +I shook my head and smiled. In that smile I suppose +the sagacious old fishwoman discovered the pliancy of +my disposition, for she immediately commenced a wild +harangue on the merits of the fish, scarcely a word of +which I understood. Two or three times I started to +leave, but each time she made a motion to detain me. +The fact is, I was afraid she would get hold of me with +her fishy hands, and was considerably embarrassed what +to do. The price of the fish was reasonable enough—only +two marks (about forty cents); but I had no use +for it, and did not like to carry it to my hotel. The +worst of it was, the old woman thought the price was +the only obstacle, and finally came down to a mark and +a half. What was to be done? From Billingsgate to +Stockholm, it is notorious that a disappointed fishwoman +is a very dangerous and uncertain foe to be encountered +by any man, however brave. She began to get excited +at the bare prospect of having taken so much trouble for +nothing. Several of her friends began to gather round. +A cold tremor ran through my frame. There seemed +to be no possible way of evading the purchase without +creating an unpleasant scene. To make an end of it, I +bought the fish. With a bunch of grass wrapped around +its tail, I made my way through the crowd. To be sure, +I felt a little ashamed to be perambulating the streets +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[264]</a></span> +of a strange city with a big fish in my hand, yet I could +not well throw it down on the sidewalk, and was afraid, +if I offered it to some little boy, he might stick his tongue +in his cheek, and ask me if I saw any thing green in the +corner of his eye. The case was getting worse and +worse every moment. People stopped and looked at me +as I passed. My arm was getting tired. Fortunately, +I was close to the quay. A happy thought struck me; +I walked over to the water’s edge and cast the fish into +his native element. “Go,” said I, in the language of my +uncle Toby; “there’s room enough in the world for you +and me.” What the by-standers thought of the act I +did not wait to see. It was enough that I was clear of +a very unpleasant companion, though an ancient and fish-like +odor remained with me for some time after. As for +the fish, I doubt if he ever came to life; he must have +been dead for several days when I bought him, judging +by a taint upon my hands, which the best soap could not +eradicate.</p> + +<p>After this I rambled gloomily along the quays, and +wondered what every body was waiting for. There were +small vessels enough lying at the wharves, but every +body on board seemed to be taking it easy. Cooks were +lying asleep on the galleys; skippers were sitting on the +poop, smoking socially with their crews; small boys, +with red night-caps on their heads, were stretched out +upon the hatchways, playing push-pin, and eating crusts +of black bread; stevedores, with dusty sacks on their +shoulders, were lounging about on the wharf, waiting for +something in the way of trade to turn up; shabby citizens, +who seemed to be out of profitable employment, +were sitting on the loose timbers overlooking the water, +bobbing for fish, and never catching any so far as I could +perceive; and scattering crowds of idlers were strolling +idly along like myself, in search of something particular +to look at, but, failing to discover it, they looked about +at things generally, and then strolled on to look at something +else. I sighed at the stagnation of business, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[265]</a></span> +hoped it would never be my fate to be engaged in mercantile +affairs in Stockholm. Before the Gotha Canal +was completed this was a very brisk city; but since that +period, Gottenburg, being more accessible, has monopolized +much of the European trade. The principal trade +of Stockholm now consists of exports of iron, and imports +of sugar, coffee, and liquors. Throughout the interior +the peasantry manufacture most of the articles required +for their own use, such as clothing, implements +of husbandry, etc., so that they are not large consumers +of foreign commodities. Finding it very dull in town, I +walked out in the suburbs, which are pretty and picturesque, +though primitive enough to be a thousand miles +from a commercial city. The houses are chiefly constructed +of wood, painted yellow, with red roofs, and neatly ornamented +with verandas; and the people have a quaint +and simple look, as if they knew but little of the world, +and did not care much to trouble their heads about the +progress of events. Here as well as elsewhere, children +continue to be born in great numbers, and groups of them +were to be seen before every house playing in the mud +just as little cotton-headed children play all over the +world. I say cotton-headed, because these were of the +blue-eyed, white-haired race who have a natural affinity +for muddy places, and whose cheeks have a natural propensity +to gather bloom and dirt at the same time.</p> + +<p>I struck out on the high points of the Normalm, and +on one of them discovered an old church, surrounded by +trees, with benches conveniently placed beneath their +shade for weary pedestrians. Here were family groups +quietly enjoying the fresh air, the men smoking and +drinking, while the women and girls economized time by +knitting and sewing. I took a vacant seat and looked +down over the city. Surely a prettier prospect could +not exist upon earth. There lay the city of the sea outspread +beneath, its irregular streets, quaint old houses +and churches covering every available space; the numerous +wooded islands in the vicinity dotted with villas; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[266]</a></span> +sloops and boats floating dreamily on the Malar Lake, +and larger vessels gliding over the waters of the Baltic; +dense forests of pine dim in the distance; and over all +a strangely colored Northern light, that gave the scene +something of a spectral aspect. Yet the spirit of repose +that seemed cast over this fair scene was absolutely oppressive +to one like myself, accustomed to an active life. +From the high points I wandered down into the low +places, through narrow and tortuous streets; gazed into +the stables and cow-houses; watched the tinners, and coppersmiths, +and shoemakers as they wound up the labors +of the day in their dingy little shops; peered into the +greasy little meatshops and antiquated grocery-stores; +studied the faces of the good people who slowly wended +their way homeward, and bowed to several old ladies out +of pure kindliness and good feeling; then wandered back +into the public places, still pursued by a green and yellow +melancholy. I gazed steadfastly at the statues of +Gustavus Vasa, Charles XII., and Berzelius, and tried in +vain to remember something of their history. I went +into the picture-shops, took off my hat to small boys behind +the counter, looked at the pictures, and bought several, +for which I had no earthly use; then I went to the +café on the bridge, drank coffee and cognac, and attempted +to read the Swedish newspapers, of which I understood +every letter, but not a word; after which I heard +the whistle of a small steam-boat at the end of the café +garden, and ran down in a hurry to get on board. The +steam-boat was about equal to a good-sized yawl, and was +bound for some port unknown to me; but that made no +difference. I never see a boat of any kind going any +where, or a locomotive, or a carriage, or any thing that +moves by steam, sails, horse-power, or electricity, without +feeling an unconquerable desire to be off too, so that +I very much fear, if I should come across a convict vessel +bound for Van Diemen’s Land, it would be impossible +for me to avoid jumping on board and going with +the crowd. In the present case it was essentially necessary +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[267]</a></span> +that I should keep moving. I was almost sinking +under the oppressive loneliness of the place. Rather +than remain another hour within the limits of such a +dreary old city, I would have taken passage in a tread-mill, +and relied upon the force of imagination to carry +me to some other place. Nay, a hangman’s cart on the +way to the gallows would have presented a strong temptation. +In saying this I mean nothing disrespectful to +Birger Jarl, who founded Stockholm, and made it his +place of residence in 1260; nor to Christina Gyllenstierna, +who so heroically defended it against Christian II. of +Denmark in the sixteenth century; nor to Gustavus Vasa, +the brave liberator of Sweden; nor his noble and heroic +grandson, Gustavus Adolphus; nor any body else famous +in Swedish history; but the truth of it is, Sweden at the +present day is essentially a home country, and the people +are too domestic in their habits and modes of thought to +afford any peculiar interest to a casual tourist. I like +their simple and genial manners, and respect them for +their sterling integrity, yet these are traits of no great +value to one who travels so far out of the world in search +of objects of more stirring interest. The ordinary traveler, +who has no time to dive very deep beneath the surface +of human life, is not satisfied to find things nearly +as he finds them at home; streets, shops, and houses undistinguished +by any peculiarity save the inconveniences +and oddities of age; people every where around him +who dress like all other civilized people, and possess the +standard virtues and weaknesses of humanity; the proprieties +of life decently observed, and loyalty to forms +and time-honored usages a national characteristic. A +Swede would no more violate a rule of etiquette, smile +or bow out of place, eat a beefsteak or drink his schnapps +at an unusual hour, or strike out any thing novel or original +in the way of pleasure, profit, or enterprise, than a +German. The court circle is the most formal in Europe, +and the upper classes of society are absolute slaves to +conventionality. A presentation at court is an event of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[268]</a></span> +such signal importance that weeks of preparation are required +for the impressive ordeal; and when the tailor, +and shoemaker, and the jeweler have done their part, +and the unhappy victim, all bedeviled with finery and befrogged +with lace, is brought into the presence of royalty, +it is a miracle if he gets through without committing +some dire offense against the laws of etiquette. Fine +carriages, coats of arms, uniforms, and badges of office, +are held in high veneration; and while the government +is liberal and the people profess to be independent, their +slavish devotion to rank, dress, and etiquette surpasses +any thing I saw in Russia. With this, to be sure, is +mingled a certain simplicity of manner and kindliness +of expression toward inferiors which sometimes lead the +stranger to believe that he is among a democratic people, +but they are as far from democracy as the Prussians +or the Austrians. The very affability of the superior to +the inferior is the best evidence of the inseparable gulf +that lies between them. In Russia there is the charm +of barbarism, savagery, filth, and show; the people are +loose, ferocious, daring, and wild; here in Sweden, the +quiet, decent, home-aspect of the people, their rigid observance +of the rules of etiquette, their devotion to royalty, +law, and order, are absolutely depressing. In the abstract, +many traits in their character are worthy of admiration, +but as a traveler I detest this kind of civilization. +Give me a devil or a savage at all times, who outrages +the rules of society and carries an advertisement +of character on his back. As an artist I can make something +of him, either in the way of copy or pencil-sketches.</p> + +<p>Which brings me back to my situation, in the natural +course of events. The whistle blows. The little steam-boat +is about to stop at the landing-place of the Djurgaard. +The engineer, smutty and oily with hard service, +gives a turn to the crank, pulls an iron bar with a polished +handle, and then pushes it; the tea-kettle boiler +fizzes and whizzes, and lets off steam; the paddles stop +paddling; the gentlemen passengers stand up and adjust +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[269]</a></span> +their shirt collars; the ladies gather their shawls around +them, and pick up their scattered bundles; with a whirl +and a jerk we are alongside the wharf, and the captain +jumps from the bow with a rope in his hand, and makes +all fast to a logger-head. And now step ashore, if you +please, ladies and gentlemen, and let us take a stroll +through the deer garden, where</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i2">“The ash and warrior oak<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cast anchor in the rifted rock.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>The walks through this beautiful park (said to be the +finest attached to any capital in Europe) are broad, and +handsomely graded. Grand old forest-trees on either +side make “a boundless contiguity of shade” over the +greensward. Pavilions and rustic summer-houses stand +on the high points of rock, commanding magnificent +views of the adjacent islands and waters of the lake. +Flower-gardens are numerous, and every nook and dell +contains some place of refreshment, where the gay company +who frequent these delightful grounds in the long +summer evenings can drink their tea and enjoy the varied +beauties of the scene. Wandering through these +sylvan glades, the eye is continually charmed with the +rare combinations of natural and artificial beauties scattered +around in every direction with such wonderful +prodigality. At one moment you imagine yourself in a +wilderness, hundreds of miles from any human habitation, +so dense are the shades of the grand old forest-trees, +and so wild and rugged the moss-covered rocks; +a few steps bring you suddenly upon some fairy scene, +where palaces and temples, gilded carriages, gayly-dressed +companies of ladies and gentlemen, and groups of children +sporting upon the grass, dispel the illusion. Ascending +to the highest points by the narrow and tortuous +by-paths, I could almost fancy myself in the midst +of the Coast Range, so perfect was the isolation; then +coming out suddenly upon some projecting cliff, the +change of scene from rugged grandeur to the perfection +of civilization was absolutely magical. Vegetation in +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[270]</a></span> +this northern region, where the summer are so short +and warm, flourishes with an almost tropical luxuriance. +The melting of the snows in spring, followed by heavy +rains and sudden heat, causes the earth to give forth its +products with a prodigality that compensates in some +degree for the long and dreary winters. Trees burst +into leaf as if by magic; flowers shoot up and bloom in +a few weeks; the grass, enriched by the snows, springs +forth and covers the earth like a gorgeous carpet of velvet. +All nature rejoices in the coming of the long summer +days. The birds sing in the groves; the bees hum +merrily around the flowers; the gay butterflies flit +through the sunbeams; and day and night are an almost +continued period of revelry for all those beautiful and +ephemeral creatures that droop and die with the flowers. +I have nowhere seen such a profusion of intensely rich +green and such wonderfully deep shades as in the neighborhood +of Stockholm. It is almost oppressive to one +accustomed to California scenery, where the whole face +of the country wears a dry red-and-yellowish hue in summer. +Strange how one’s tastes change by association! +I well remember when I first entered the Golden Gate, in +August, 1849, after a long and dreary voyage round Cape +Horn. Glad as I was to see land once more, it struck +me that I had never looked upon so barren and desolate +a country. The hill-sides had the appearance of parched +and sodless deserts. Yet I soon learned to like that +warm glow. I slept upon those parched hills, breathed +the invigorating air, and felt the inspiration of California +life. I would not now exchange the summer drapery of +our hills and valleys for the deepest green upon earth. +To my present frame of mind there is something flat and +chilling in this redundancy of verdure that reminds one +of death and the grave-yard. The moss-covered rocks +jutting from the cold, grassy earth; the dripping fern; +the pale, flitting gleams of sunshine struggling through +the depths of foliage; the mould that seems to hang in +the air—all these strike me as death-like. I long for the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[271]</a></span> +vital glow of a more genial sun, whose all-pervading light +is reflected from the rich golden earth, shooting health +and vigor through every fibre of the frame, permeating +body and soul with its effulgence. Such intensity of +light, such warmth of colors, fill the dullest mind with +inspiration; the blood is quickened in its circulation; +the respiration is full and free; the intellect becomes +clearer and sharper; the whole man is quickened into +the highest condition of mental and physical vitality. Is +it a matter of wonder, then, that the people of California +should be brave, generous, and loyal—that they should +have a high sense of right, and an undying scorn of +wrong? I hold that the species is improved by the climate +and the country—that stronger men and better +men are now undergoing the process of development in +California than in any other country on the face of the +earth. If we live fast and die suddenly, it is the natural +consequence of increased bodily and mental vigor, +which too often leads to excesses, but which, under proper +training, must eventually lead to the highest moral +and intellectual achievements. The fault does not lie in +our climate. I have yet seen none to equal it North or +South—not even in Italy. I do not think the climate of +Sweden is conducive to longevity, or extraordinary mental +or bodily vigor. Indeed, the same may be said of +any climate abounding in such rigorous extremes. The +Swedes, it is true, lead a placid and easy life, content +with ordinary comforts, and worried by no exciting or +disquieting ambitions; hence they enjoy good health, +and generally get through the usual span allotted to man. +If the same sanitary rules were observed in our country, +there would be less sickness and fewer untimely deaths. +Dissipation is not rare in Sweden, especially in the capital +cities, but it is more methodical with us. The people +have certain times and occasions for getting drunk; +they make a regular business of it. Virulent and disgusting +diseases are also prevalent among them, so that +between the rigors of climate and other causes less +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[272]</a></span> +excusable, they frequently appear old and decrepit before +their time. That among the middle classes there are +fine-looking men and beautiful women, is true; that in +literature, science, and music, they can boast names that +will go down to posterity, is a fact that can not be denied; +but I think such a climate and the habits engendered +by it are inimical to the highest order of physical +and mental development among the masses. Hence we +find throughout the country many diseased and deformed +persons of both sexes; many weakly and not a few +imbecile. The peasants are not so hardy and robust as +I expected to find them; and I was told by competent +judges, better informed than I could hope to become +during so brief a sojourn, that they are progressively degenerating +year after year, and can not now compare +with the peasants of former times.</p> + +<p>To say that I was charmed with my ramble through +the Djurgaard would but faintly express the pleasure I +derived from my visit to this beautiful park. Of all the +resorts for recreation that I have yet seen in Northern +Europe, I give it the palm for natural beauty and tasteful +cultivation. In this the Swedes excel. Their villas, +gardens, and parks are unsurpassed, and no people in the +world better understand how to enjoy them.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening I returned to my hotel, delighted +with all I had seen. I was anxious to extend my rambles +to Upsala, and to visit more in detail the various +beautiful islands and places of interest in the vicinity of +Stockholm; but the season was advancing, and I was +reluctantly compelled to push on toward Norway.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE GOTHA CANAL.</h3> + + +<p>On a pleasant morning in August I called for my bill +at the “Stadt Frankfort.” The landlady, a blooming +young woman of rather vivacious and persuasive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[273]</a></span> +manners, wished me such a delightful journey, and looked so +sorry I was going, that I could not muster resolution +enough to complain of the various candles that were +never burnt, and the numerous services that were never +rendered, except in the bill; and had she charged me +for washing my own face and putting on my own boots, +I fear the result would have been the same. Wishing +her a happy future, I shouldered my knapsack, which by +this time contained only two shirts, an old pair of stockings, +and some few flowers and stones from celebrated +places, and, thus accoutred for the journey, made my way +down to Riddarholm Quay. In a dingy old office, abounding +in cobwebs, a dingy old gentleman, who spoke English, +sold me a second-class ticket for Gottenburg. The +little steamer upon which I had the good fortune to secure +a passage was called the Admiral Von Platten, a +name famous in the history of Swedish enterprise. It +was Von Platten who, in 1808, took charge of the great +work of internal improvement known as the West Gotha +Canal, and by the aid of Telford, the celebrated English +engineer, carried it into successful operation in 1822. +The project of connecting the lakes of Wenern and Wettern, +and forming a water communication all the way between +Stockholm and Gottenburg, was entertained at a +very early day by the different sovereigns and scientific +men of Sweden. Bishop Brask in 1516, Gustavus I., +Charles IX., Swedenborg, Gustavus Adolphus, and others, +took particular interest in it, and some progress was +made in the building of locks and opening of short passages +up to the beginning of the present century. Daniel +Thunberg contributed materially to the opening of +the route between Wenern and the Baltic; and Colonel +N. Eriksson, the celebrated engineer whose reputation +stands so high in the United States, had the direction of +the work for many years. It was not, however, till 1844 +that the entire work was fully completed, although some +years prior to that time the two seas were connected +and open to navigation. The immense expense of this +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[274]</a></span> +enterprise; the extraordinary natural obstacles that have +been overcome; the patience and perseverance with +which it has been carried into practical operation; the +magnitude and durability of the work, can only be appreciated +by one who has made the trip through Sweden +by this route. It is certainly the grandest triumph recorded +in Swedish history. It will exist and benefit generations +to come, when the names of her kings, warriors, +and statesmen shall be known only to antiquarians.</p> + +<p>The steamers now plying on this route are small, but +well arranged for the accommodation of passengers. +There is a first and second cabin, and a restaurant at +which the traveler can call for what he desires, and, provided +his tastes are not eccentric, generally get what he +calls for. The waiters are simple-minded, kind-hearted, +and sociable; sit down and gossip with the passengers +(at least those of the second class), and, what seems rather +novel and amusing to a stranger, leave the bill to be +made out and summed up by the passengers themselves. +A general account-book is left open in the cabin, in which +it is expected every traveler will set down his name and +keep his own account. At the end of the trip, the head +waiter goes the rounds of the cabin and deck, book in +hand, and asks the passengers to designate their names +and sum up their accounts. Nobody seems to think of +cheating or being cheated. There is something so primitive +in this way of dealing on a public highway between +two commercial cities, that I was quite charmed with it, +and have some thoughts of recommending it to the California +Steam Navigation Company. Just think what a +pleasure it would be to travel from San Francisco to Sacramento, +and keep the record of your own bitters and +cigars, to say nothing of your supper and berth! I am +certain the plan would be approved by a majority of the +traveling public throughout the state.</p> + +<p>The company on board these little Swedish steamers +is generally plain, sociable, and intelligent. Among the +passengers I met many who spoke English and German, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[275]</a></span> +and few who did not speak at least one language in addition +to their own. In midsummer the trip from Stockholm +to Gottenburg usually takes three days, though it +is sometimes accomplished in two. The distance is about +three hundred and seventy miles by the shortest route, +through the Wettern and Wenern lakes. Time, however, +is no great object in Sweden, and a day or two more +or less makes no great difference. The beauty of the +scenery, and the diversity of land and water, render the +trip one of the most agreeable in Northern Europe, and +for one I can safely say it would have pleased me all the +better had it lasted longer.</p> + +<p>Leaving the Riddarholm Quay, our route lay for the +first four hours through the Malar Lake. The weather +was delightful, and there was scarcely a ripple on the +water. Sloops and wood-boats lay floating upon its +glassy surface without perceptible motion. All along on +either side beautiful villas peeped from the umbrageous +shores and islands. Behind us, the city loomed up in all +its queenly beauty, the numerous churches and public +buildings presented in majestic outline against the sky, +while the forest of shipping at the quays added a more +stirring and vital interest to the scene. As we turned +the last promontory to the right, and took a lingering +look at this charming “city of the sea,” I thought I had +never enjoyed a more enchanting <i>coup d’œil</i>. The suburbs +of Stockholm; the numerous little islands, with their +rich green shrubbery; the villas and gardens; the sparkling +vistas of water, form a combination of beauties rarely +to be met with in any other part of the world. No +wonder the Swedes regard their capital as a paradise. I +fully agree with them that in summer it deserves all their +praise; but I should prefer a warmer and more genial +paradise for winter quarters. Earthen stoves and hot-air +furnaces are not in any of the seven heavens that occur +in my imagination.</p> + +<p>Before many hours we passed a point somewhat celebrated +in Swedish history. On a high peak of rock, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[276]</a></span> +hanging upon a pole, is a prodigious iron hat, said to be +the identical “stove-pipe” worn by one of the old Swedish +kings—a terrible fellow, who was in the habit of +slaying hundreds of his enemies with his own hand. +This famous old king must have been a giant in stature. +Judging by his hat, as Professor Agassiz judges of fish +by their scales, he must have been forty feet high, by +about ten or fifteen broad; and if his strength corresponded +with his gigantic proportions, I fancy he could +have knocked the gable-end off a house with a single +blow of his fist, or kicked the head out of a puncheon of +rum, and swallowed the contents at a single draught, +without the least difficulty. His hat probably weighs a +hundred pounds—enough to give any ordinary man a +severe headache. Here it has stood for centuries, in +commemoration of his last struggle. Besieged by an +overwhelming force of his enemies, as the chronicle goes, +he slew some thousands of them, but, being finally hard +pressed, he lost his iron hat in the fight, and then plunged +headlong into the lake. Some historians assert that he +took to water to avoid capture; but I incline to the opinion +myself that he did it to cool his head. At all events, +the record ends at this point. We are unable to learn any +thing more of his fate. These Northern races are strong +believers in their own aboriginal history, and although +there may be much in this that would require the very +best kind of testimony before a California jury, the slightest +hint of a doubt as to its truth would probably be +taken as a personal offense by any public spirited Swede. +In that respect, thank fortune, I am gifted with a most +accommodating disposition. I can believe almost any +thing under the sun. Giants and genii are nothing to +what my credulity is capable of; and as for fairies and +hobgoblins, I can swallow them by wholesale. There is +only one thing in this world that I entertain the least +doubt about—the title to my house and lot in Oakland. +Upon that point I question if it ever will be possible for +human evidence to satisfy me. Three times I paid for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[277]</a></span> +it, and each time every body considered it perfect except +myself. I expect daily to hear of another title, of which +I trust some enterprising gentleman in want of funds +will advise me. It will be a source of consolation to +know that I was not mistaken.</p> + +<p>Situated near the entrance of the canal, on the left +bank, is the beautiful little town of Soderkoping, celebrated +for its mineral springs, to which the people of Stockholm +resort in great numbers during the summer for +health and recreation. The scene as we approached was +very pretty. Pine and oak forests cover the granite hills +for many miles around, relieved by occasional openings +dotted with villas, gardens, and farms; and the dark red +wooden houses of the town have a singularly pleasant +effect glimmering in the sunbeams through the rich +masses of foliage by which they are surrounded. Groups +of visitors stood at the locks awaiting the news from the +city, or anxiously looking out for the familiar faces of +relatives and friends, while the lock-men slowly and methodically +performed their accustomed routine of labors. +Soderkoping is a very ancient town, and in former times +enjoyed considerable importance as a mart of commerce. +Passing through a narrow stretch of canal, some miles +in length, overhung by trees and rocks on the right, and +affording some pleasant views of the rich valley to the +left, the banks gradually widened till we entered a beautiful +little lake, leading, after a short passage, to the waters +of the Roxen. The narrow parts of the canal are +difficult of navigation, owing to the various turns and +the solid masses of rock through which it is cut; and +the steamer sometimes proceeds very slowly, carefully +feeling her way along, till an open space affords an opportunity +of going ahead at a more rapid rate. In the +mean time the passengers are all out on the decks, shaded +by an awning, enjoying themselves in the most unceremonious +manner, laughing and talking in groups, +sipping their coffee, or promenading up and down to enjoy +the sweet-scented breeze from the neighboring hills. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[278]</a></span> +The Roxen Lake, through which we next passed, is some +seventeen miles long by seven broad, and is justly regarded +as one of the loveliest sheets of water in all Sweden. +The shores are neither very high nor very grand, +but it would be difficult to find any thing more charming +than the rich coloring of the rocks, their varied outlines, +the luxuriance of the forests, and the crystal clearness +of the water. Villages and farms are seen at occasional +intervals in the distance, and sloops, with their +sails hanging idly against their masts, float upon the placid +surface of the lake as upon a mirror. Indeed, so perfect +is the inversion, that the eye can scarcely determine +how much is real and how much the result of optical illusion. +Passing in sight of the town of Linkoping, which +lies to the left, we soon reached the entrance of the West +Gotha Canal, which here makes a direct ascent from the +waters of the Roxen of seventy-five feet. At this point +there are eleven locks, seven of which are closely connected, +and the remainder separated by short stretches +of canal. Near at hand is a pretty little village to the +left, famous for its church, the Vretakloster, built in the +Gothic style in 1128, by Inge II., one of the early kings +of Sweden. While the steamer was slowly toiling through +the locks, a party of the passengers, including myself, +paid a visit to the church, and, aided by a venerable sacristan, +saw all that was to be seen in it, chief among +which are the tombs of the kings and the arms of the +Douglas family, those warlike Scots who took such an +active part in the military exploits of Sweden during the +Thirty Years’ War. The walk was a pleasant relief after +our trip across the lake, and on our return by a short +cut to the upper locks we had a splendid view of the +wood-covered shore and glistening waters of the Roxen, +now fading away in the rich twilight. The steamer occupies +about an hour and a half in getting through the +locks, and most of the passengers take advantage of the +delay to stroll about among the neighboring cottages +and gardens, and enjoy the various refreshments offered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[279]</a></span> +for sale at the pavilions and tents erected near the upper +extremity for the accommodation of travelers. Fresh +milk, raspberries, coffee, sweet cakes, and ale are the principal +articles furnished at these places. Notwithstanding +there was an abundant supply of luxuries on board, +every body seemed to be hungry and thirsty on getting +ashore. The rapidity with which the plates, cups, and +glasses were emptied was really surprising, and would +have done credit to a crowd of Californians, who, I think, +can eat more and drink more in a given time than any +race of men upon the earth.</p> + +<p>The canal for some distance beyond the locks is quite +narrow—often barely wide enough for two steamers to +pass. On the left the banks rise to a considerable height, +and then gradually decline till the canal passes along a +ridge, high above the surrounding country. The effect +in these places is very peculiar. The overhanging trees +almost unite their branches over the chimney of the +steamer as she wends her way slowly and steadily along; +deep ravines extend downward into an impenetrable +abyss on either side; the sky glimmers through the foliage +in a horizontal line with the eye, and one can almost +fancy the world has been left below somewhere, and that +a new highway has been entered, upon which passengers +steam their way to the stars. I am quite certain, if we +had kept a direct course long enough, we would have +reached the moon or some of the heavenly bodies.</p> + +<p>It was late at night when we reached the Boren Lake, +another of those natural highways that lie between the +Baltic and the North Sea. This lake is comparatively +small, but it abounds in rocky islands and shoals which +render the navigation through it rather intricate. A pilot +is taken on board at the entrance of each lake, and +discharged upon reaching the next canal station.</p> + +<p>I remained on deck until midnight, enjoying the +strange and beautiful lights spread over the heavens in +this latitude, and was reluctant even then to lose the +views during any part of the journey. Nature, however, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[280]</a></span> +can not be defrauded of her legitimate demands even by +the beauties of scenery, and I went below to sleep out +the remainder of the night. My berth was in the forward +cabin, where twenty or thirty passengers were already +stretched out—some on the tables, some on the +floor, and as many as could find room were snoring away +in the temporary berths erected on the seats for their accommodation. +Toward morning I was suddenly aroused +by a strange and jarring motion of the boat, accompanied +by a grating sound. It seemed as if an earthquake +were throwing us up out of the water; yet the shocks +were more sudden and violent than any I had ever before +experienced. Many of the passengers were cast out +of their berths, and the glass and crockery in the pantry +went crashing over the floor. Scarcely conscious whether +I was dreaming or awake, I grasped a post, and sprang +out on a pile of baggage, but was immediately precipitated +across the cabin. Fortunately I fell against the +chambermaid, and suffered no injury. Amid the confusion +worse confounded, the screams of the women down +below, the crash of broken glasses, and the general struggle +to get to the cabin door, a German Jew sprang from +his berth, and in frantic accents begged that his life might +be spared. “Take my money!” cried he; “take it all, +but for God’s sake don’t murder me!” The poor fellow +had evidently been aroused out of some horrible dream, +and between actual and imaginary dangers was now +quite bewildered with terror. I could not help but be +amused at the grotesque expression of his face, even at +such a moment. It would have provoked a smile had we +been going to the bottom. There was no fear of that, +however, as I quickly ascertained. We were already +hard and fast on the bottom. We had run upon a sunken +rock, and were so firmly wedged between its crevices +that it seemed likely we should remain there some time. +As soon as all was still, I quietly dressed myself and went +on deck to take an observation. It was just daylight. +We were in the middle of a lake, surrounded by small +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[281]</a></span> +rocky islands. One of these was only a stone’s throw +distant on our starboard. The stakes between which +our course lay were close by on the larboard. We had +missed the channel by some twenty or thirty yards, and +run upon a bed of solid boulders. The pilot, it seemed, +had been drinking a little too freely of schnapps, and had +fallen asleep at the helm. It was a miracle that we were +not all dashed to pieces. A few yards to the right stood +a sharp rock, which, had we run against it, would have +crushed in the entire bow of the boat, and probably +many of us would have perished.</p> + +<p>Although there was no fear of our sinking any deeper +unless the bed of rocks gave way, it was not a pleasant +prospect to be detained here, perhaps for several days. +The main shore was some five or six miles distant, and +presented an almost unbroken line of granite boulders +and dense pine forests. Most of the passengers were on +deck, in a state of high excitement; the gentlemen running +about in their shirt sleeves and drawers, and the ladies +in those indescribable costumes which ladies usually +wear when they go to sleep. The captain was mounted +on the poop-deck, with his pipe in his mouth, giving orders +to the men, who were pulling and tugging at big +ropes, and trying to be very busy knocking things about; +the pilot stood a little apart from the captain, pale and +moody, having in a single moment destroyed his prospects +for life. I felt very sorry for the poor fellow, though +there was really no excuse for him. Every now and then +the captain turned to him and gave him a broadside of +curses, which he bore very meekly.</p> + +<p>In vain the engineer put on additional steam; in vain +the captain shouted “Back!” “Ahead!” “Stop!” We +did nothing but stop. It was stop all the time. As +there is no tide in these inland waters, the prospect was +that we would continue to stop as long as the rocks remained +stationary.</p> + +<p>All hope of progress being at an end, the engineer +slackened down the fires; the deck-hands went to breakfast, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[282]</a></span> +and the passengers went down below to dress and +talk over their misfortune. The sun rose as usual, and +the sky was as clear and the lake as placid as if nothing +had happened. I had been trying all my life to get shipwrecked +on a desolate island; now there seemed a fair +prospect of success. The only difficulty was, that there +was no heavy sea to break the vessel to pieces, and she +was too substantial to go to pieces of her own account. +The nearest island was little more than a barren rock. +A few birds wheeled about over it, or sat perched upon +its rugged points, but with that exception I doubt if it +furnished a foothold for a living creature.</p> + +<p>After a good breakfast of sausages and veal cutlets, +brown bread and coffee, we again turned out on deck. +This time the joyful tidings reached us from aloft that a +Gottenburg steamer was approaching. Soon the smoke +of her chimneys was perceptible from the deck, and in +an hour or so she was alongside. A stout hawser was +bent on to her, and after another hour of pulling and +tugging, backing and filling, we slipped off the rocks, and +floated out into the channel. I was destined, after all, +never to be decently shipwrecked. We had suffered but +little injury, and proceeded on our way as quietly as if +nothing had interrupted our course. On our arrival at +the next pilot station the captain put the pilot ashore, +with a parting malediction in the Swedish vernacular.</p> + +<p>The next place of importance on our route was the +pretty little town of Motala, at which we stopped for +some hours to take in freight and passengers. The +neighborhood is undulating and picturesque, and abounds +in rich farms. Motala is an old-fashioned place, with +paved streets and wooden houses, much like the suburbs +of Stockholm. It is celebrated chiefly for its manufactures +of iron. The founderies are numerous, and cutlery +of a very good quality is manufactured here. Besides +these, it possesses many other objects of interest. The +churches are well worth visiting, and the ruins of the +fortifications erected in 1567, to resist the Danes, are +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[283]</a></span> +among the finest in Sweden. From Motala, after another +narrow stretch of canal, we soon reached the Wettern +Lake, the next largest to the Wenern, and the waters of +which are three hundred and four feet above the level +of the sea.</p> + +<p>In my recollections of travel I can scarcely call to mind +any experience more pleasant than I enjoyed during this +part of the trip. The lake scenery of Sweden, although +not very grand compared with that of the Norwegian +fjords, is certainly unsurpassed in the softness and beauty +of its coloring, the crystal clearness of the water, the luxuriance +of the surrounding forests, the varied labyrinths +of charming little islands through which the channel +winds, and the delicate atmospheric tints cast on the distant +shores. By this time, too, the passengers have become +better acquainted. The wonderful sights that we +have seen together; the perils and dangers through which +we have passed; the breakfasts, dinners, and suppers that +we have eaten at the same board; the amount of solid +sleeping that we have done in the same little cabin; the +promenades we have had up and down the decks, and +the rambles we have enjoyed together, have bound us +together as one family, and now we come out with our +individual histories and experiences, our accomplishments +and humors. We (the gentlemen) drink schnapps +together, smoke cigars, talk all the languages under the +sun, tell our best anecdotes, and sing glees under the +awning. The ladies look more beautiful than ever, and +although they are still a little shy of us, as ladies in Europe +generally are of the male sex, they sometimes favor +us with a smile or a pleasant word, and thus contribute +to our happiness. I don’t know, for the life of me, what +dire offense the man who founded European society was +guilty of; but it is certain his successors, from Algeria +to the North Pole, are sadly mistrusted by the unmarried +ladies. This, I regret to say, is the case in Sweden, +as well as in Germany and France. A gentleman is +generally regarded as a ferocious cannibal, ready without +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[284]</a></span> +the slightest provocation to devour and swallow up +defenseless maidens. The married ladies are free and +easy enough, having discovered probably that men are +not half so dangerous as they are reported to be. But, +all things considered, the Swedish ladies are exceedingly +polite and affable, and on occasions of this kind seem +well disposed toward our rapacious sex.</p> + +<p>The next important point in our route was the fortress +of Wanas, which commands the channel entering the lake +on the eastern side. This is considered a work of great +importance in view of invasion by any foreign power. +We did not stop long enough to examine it in detail, +merely touching to put the mail ashore and take in a few +passengers. Leaving the Wettern Lake, our route lay +through a series of smaller lakes, beautifully diversified +with wood-covered islands, till we entered the Viken, +another magnificent stretch of water of less extent than +the Wettern, but still more beautiful than any we had +yet seen. Here the rocks and islands are innumerable, +rising from the water in every direction; the smaller +ones covered with moss, lichens, shrubbery, and flowers; +and the larger darkened with a dense growth of fir, pine, +and other evergreens, while the oak, elm, and ash occasionally +enliven the masses of shade with their more lively +foliage.</p> + +<p>At the end of the Viken, which is some fifteen miles in +length, the West Gotha Canal commences, and continues +through a rich and beautiful farming country to the waters +of the great Wenern Lake, some twenty miles distant. +The passage through this portion of the route is +less interesting than others through which we had passed—so +far, at least, as the scenery is concerned. The country +is undulating, but not sufficiently diversified for fine +scenic effects. Farms and meadows extend nearly all +the way to the shores of the Wenern; and the canal +passes at frequent intervals through farming districts, +which, in point of cultivation, are quite equal to any +thing I had seen in more southern parts of Europe. The +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[285]</a></span> +peasants’ houses along the route are neat and comfortable, +and reminded me occasionally of our New England +farm-houses. Villages enliven the route at intervals of +a few miles, but generally they are of inconsiderable size, +and may properly be regarded as mere gatherings of +farm-houses around the nucleus of a church or post station. +In this respect, I was struck with the difference +between Sweden and Germany. The German peasantry, +as a general thing, live in villages, and carry on their +farming outside, sometimes at a distance of several miles. +In the Thuringenwald, the Schwartzwald, the Spessart, +and some other mountainous districts, it is true, exceptions +may be found to this rule; but throughout the best +cultivated districts of Germany there are but comparatively +few farm-houses in which isolated families live. +Hence villages, and, in many cases, large towns, form the +head-quarters of each agricultural parish. The pedestrian, +in traveling through Germany, is scarcely ever more +than a “halp-stund” from one town or village to another. +I think the longest stretch I ever made between two villages +was two hours, or six and a half miles. In Sweden +(and the same may be said of Norway) the farming districts +have more of an American aspect. The houses are +scattered about on the different farms, and the peasants +do not seem to be so gregarious in their habits as those +of Germany. This arises in part from the fact that the +population is not so dense in Sweden as in the more central +parts of Europe, and in part from the greater abundance +of wood and pasture, and the predominance of the +lumbering, mining, and stock-raising interests. Many +of the farmers are also lumbermen and miners, and nearly +all have a good supply of blood cattle. The extent +of arable land in Sweden is comparatively small. It +presents few attractions as an agricultural country. Its +chief wealth consists in its vast forests and mines. The +climate is too severe and the production of cereal crops +too uncertain to render farming on a large scale a profitable +pursuit. This is especially the case in the northern +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[286]</a></span> +parts. South of Stockholm, between the lakes of Wettern +and Wenern, and along the banks of the Gota River, +farming is carried to considerable perfection; but +with this exception, and some small and sheltered valleys +to the north, in which the peasants manage with great +care and labor to raise a sufficient supply of grain and +potatoes for domestic consumption, but little is produced +for exportation. The land generally throughout Sweden +is barren and rocky, and it is only by great labor and +constant manuring that fair crops can be produced. In +the populous districts, where the soil possesses some natural +advantages, the farms are mostly small, averaging +from ten to seventy-five acres. A tract of forest is usually +attached to these farming-lands, from which the peasants +derive their supplies of lumber and fuel. Saw-mills +are numerous on all the rivers, and a large trade in lumber +is carried on in the lake regions. The main lumber +region lies north of Stockholm, on the various small rivers +emptying into the Gulf of Bothnia. Sundswall, +Umea, Lulea, and Haparanda are the principal places of +exportation on the eastern shore, and Gottenburg on the +west. The fisheries are also an important branch of industry, +and large quantities of stromung and herrings are +exported. Salmon abound in the rivers, and the lakes +and mountain streams furnish a very fine quality of trout. +Game is more abundant in the densely wooded regions +of Sweden than in Norway, being less accessible to English +sportsmen. Of late years Norway has become the +favorite hunting and fishing ground of the English, and +every summer they swarm all over the country with +their guns and fishing-rods. In Sweden, however, comparatively +few have yet made their appearance. Bear, +elk, red deer, ptarmigan, and wild-fowl abound in the +forests and along the shores of the lakes. The Swedes +themselves are not so much given to this kind of recreation +as the English. Their chief amusements consist in +Sunday afternoon recreations, such as theatrical representations, +dancing, singing, drinking, and carousing. In +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[287]</a></span> +their religious observances they are very strict, but after +church they consider themselves privileged to enjoy a +little dissipation in the Continental style. It too often +happens that their frolics are carried to an excess. More +brandy and other strong liquors are consumed in Sweden, +according to the population, than in New Orleans +or San Francisco, which is saying a good deal for the +civilization of the people. Another good sign is that +they chew tobacco. The better classes usually smoke +this delightful weed, but the peasants both smoke it and +chew it, showing conclusively that they are advancing +rapidly toward emancipation from the narrow prejudices +of European society. I saw drunken men and tobacco-chewers +in Sweden who would have done credit to any +little mining district in California. The habit of drinking +is almost universal. The peasants drink to get drunk, +the better classes drink for excitement, and all drink because +they like it. At the principal restaurants in Stockholm +and Gottenburg there is usually an anteroom opening +into the main saloon. Here every gentleman who +enters deposits his hat and cane. In the centre of the +room stands a small table, upon which are several decanters +containing “schnapps,” a pile of brown bread sliced, +various plates of biscuit and thin flour-cake, butter, and +pickled fish. Around this the customers gather to acquire +an appetite, which they accomplish by drinking +one or two glasses of schnapps, eating a few small fish +(stromung) spread upon their bread and butter, and then +drinking some schnapps. They then go in to dinner, +and call for what they want, including the various wines +necessary for the process of digestion. Having eaten +heartily and emptied a few bottles of wine, they wind up +with coffee and cognac or maraschino. One would think +such a process every day would burn the lining off the +best stomach in the world; but the Swedes, like the +Russians, have gutta-percha stomachs. The same system, +it is true, prevails in San Francisco, only in a different +form, and the same consequences generally ensue. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[288]</a></span> +People are very apt to get up from the table with a rush +of blood to the head, a general obliquity of vision, and a +peculiar weakness in the knees. I tried it myself by +way of experiment, and was sick of a headache for three +days after. Somehow I can travel a long distance on +foot without getting tired, but my stomach is not lined +with sheet iron. I have seen women and children drink +at a single sitting enough of intoxicating beverages, since +my arrival in Europe, to have capsized me for a month. +This, I think, will account for the prevalence of bloated +bodies and red noses in these highly civilized countries.</p> + +<p>I had read somewhere, before visiting Sweden, that +the Swedes are not very sociable toward strangers. Perhaps +in this respect they do not produce so favorable an +impression as the Germans, but my experience has been +such as to give me a very pleasant idea of their social +qualities. It is true they are not so demonstrative in +their manners as the French, or so enthusiastic as the +Germans; but I found no difficulty in becoming acquainted +with them, and was invariably treated with kindness +and hospitality. When a Swede manifests an interest in +your behalf, it is pretty certain that he feels it. If you +become acquainted with one respectable family, you have +a general entree into the entire social circle. No pains +are spared to render your visit agreeable; and although +the demonstrations of kindness are never intrusive, you +feel that they are cordial and sincere. There may be +among the more polished classes a certain degree of +formality which to a stranger bears the appearance of +reserve; but this quickly passes away, and the pleasure +is all the greater in finding that there is really very little +reserve about them. With all their adhesion to forms +and ceremonies, they are simple and unaffected in their +manners, and have a natural repugnance to whatever is +meretricious. In a word, the Swedes are an honest, +straightforward, sterling people, resembling more, in certain +points of character, the English than any of their +Continental neighbors, though I must do them the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[289]</a></span> +justice to say that they rarely have so unpleasant a way of +manifesting their best traits. I can readily believe that +the longer they are known the better they may be liked. +It is true I saw nothing of Swedish society beyond what +a casual tourist can see in passing rapidly through the +country, yet that little impressed me very favorably, and +disposes me to rely with confidence upon what I gathered +from others who have enjoyed a more extended experience.</p> + +<p>The home sketches of Fredrika Bremer give a more +thorough insight of Swedish life and manners than perhaps +those of any other writer. Of late years, however, +Miss Bremer does not appear to have maintained her +early popularity. She is said to have written some +things which have given offense and provoked severe +criticism, and I was surprised to hear her productions +mentioned by several of her countrymen in somewhat +disparaging terms. This was a source of disappointment +to me, for I had supposed she was the most popular writer +in Sweden; and I could not easily forget the pleasure +I had derived from the perusal of “The H—— Family,” +“Nina,” “The Professor,” and other of her charming +delineations of domestic life. As no man is a prophet +in his own valley, I suppose the same may be said of +women. To this, however, Jenny Lind is an exception.</p> + +<p>But, as usual, I find myself steering out of the channel. +We were now in the great Wenern Lake, a vast sheet +of water fifty miles broad by one hundred in length. +The elevation of this lake is 147 feet above the sea level. +Its shores are densely wooded, and it abounds in islands, +many of which are inhabited and cultivated. Several +rivers of considerable size empty their waters into the +Wenern, among which is the Klar, a large and rapid +stream having its source in the mountains of Norway, +at a distance of two hundred and fifty miles to the north. +Fishing and lumbering are the principal occupations of +the inhabitants living on the islands and shores. All +these interior waters are frozen over in winter, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[290]</a></span> +communication is carried on by means of sledges. The winters +are very severe; and it is said that great numbers +of wolves, driven from their usual haunts by starvation, +prowl along the public highways during the winter +months in search of prey. Traveling parties are sometimes +attacked, and it is considered dangerous for children +to go from one farm-house to another. The government, +however, by a system of rewards for the destruction +of these vicious animals, has succeeded of late +years in greatly reducing their numbers.</p> + +<p>In speaking of the severity of Swedish winters, it may +be well to state that the cold is uniform, and consequently +more easily endured than if the temperature were subject +to sudden variations. There is, of course, considerable +difference between the northern and southern parts +of the country; but, taking the average or central parts, +the winters may be considered as lasting about five +months. During that period the snow covers the earth, +and the lakes and rivers are frozen. At Stockholm the +thermometer averages in summer about 70 degrees above, +and in winter 29 degrees below zero, of Fahrenheit. At +Gottenburg the summers are not quite so warm and the +winters not so cold. The temperature of the Norwegian +coast facing the Atlantic is less rigorous than that of the +Swedish coast on the Baltic, arising from the influence +of the Gulf Stream, and partly from the proximity of the +open sea. Even at Wammerfest, which lies within the +arctic circle, the winters are comparatively mild. At Bergen +it rains over two hundred days in the year, and the +fjords are seldom frozen over.</p> + +<p>Passing along the eastern shore of the Wenern, we +passed a series of rocky islands, well wooded till we +reached the town of Wenersberg—an important dépôt +for the commerce and products of the lake. At this +place a brisk trade in iron and lumber is carried on during +the summer months, and the wharves present quite +a lively appearance, with their shipping, and piles of lumber +and merchandise. The population of Wenersberg +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[291]</a></span> +is about 2500; the houses are neat, and the general appearance +of the town is thrifty. We stopped long enough +to enjoy a ramble through the streets, and take a look +at the inhabitants, after which our little steamer proceeded +on her way through the Wassbottom Lake. At +the end of this we entered the Carls Graf, or that portion +of the canal built by Charles IX., to avoid the upper +falls of the Gota River. The canal is here cut through +solid masses of rock, and must have been a work of great +difficulty and expense.</p> + +<p>Late in the evening we arrived at the Falls of Trolhætta.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2> + +<h3>VOYAGE TO CHRISTIANIA.</h3> + + +<p>I shall not stop to describe the Falls of Trolhætta. +Better word-painters have so often pictured the beauties +of this region that there is nothing left for an unimaginative +tourist like myself.</p> + +<p>A few hours’ travel by the river steamer brought me +to Gottenburg, where, for the first time since my arrival +in Europe, I really began to enjoy life. Not that Gottenburg +is a very lively or fascinating place, for it abounds +in abominations and smells of fish, and is inhabited by a +race of men whose chief aim in life appears to be directed +toward pickled herring, mackerel, and codfish. There +was much in it, however, to remind me of that homeland +on the Pacific for which my troubled heart was +pining. A grand fair was going on. All the peasants +from the surrounding country were gathered in, and I +met very few of them, at the close of evening, who were +not reeling drunk. Besides, they chewed tobacco—an +additional sign of civilization to which I had long been +unaccustomed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 410px;"> +<a name="in_norseland" id="in_norseland"></a> +<img src="images/thor029.png" width="410" height="600" +alt="Fishermen pull in their nets, the sun just visible over the horizon" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">IN NORSELAND.</p> + +<p>At Gottenburg, in the absence of something better to +do, I made up my mind to visit Norway. The steamer +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[293]</a></span> +from Copenhagen touches on her way to Christiania. +She has an unpleasant habit of waking people up in the +middle of the night; and I was told that if I wanted to +make sure of getting on board, I must sit up and watch +for her. This is abominable in a mercantile community; +but what can be expected of a people whose noblest aspirations +are wrapped up in layers of dried codfish? By +contract with the kellner at my hotel the difficulty was +finally arranged. For the sum of two marks, Swedish +currency, he agreed to notify me of the approach of the +Copenhagen steamer. I thought he was doing all this +solely on my account, but afterward discovered that he +had made contracts at a quarter the price with about a +dozen others.</p> + +<p>It was very late in the night, or very early in the morning, +when I was roused up, and duly put on board the +steamer. Of the remainder of that night the least said +the better. A cabinful of sea-sick passengers is not a +pleasant subject of contemplation. When the light of +day found its way into our dreary abode of misery, I +went on deck. The weather was thick, and nothing was +to be seen in any direction but a rough, chopping sea +and flakes of drifting fog. A few doleful-looking tourists +were searching for the land through their opera-glasses. +They appeared to be sorry they ever undertook +such a stormy and perilous voyage, and evidently had +misgivings that they might never again see their native +country. Some of them peeped over the bulwarks from +time to time, with a faint hope, perhaps, of seeing something +new in that direction; but from the singular noises +they made, and the convulsive motions of their bodies, +I had reason to suspect they were heaving some very +heavy sighs at their forlorn fate. The waiters were continually +running about with cups of coffee, which served +to fortify the stomachs of these hardy adventurers against +sea-sickness. I may here mention as a curious fact that +in all my travels I have rarely met a sea-going gentleman +who could be induced to acknowledge that he suffered +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[294]</a></span> +the least inconvenience from the motion of the vessel. +A headache, a fit of indigestion, the remains of a recent +attack of gout, a long-standing rheumatism, a bilious colic +to which he had been subject for years, a sudden and unaccountable +shock of vertigo, a disorganized condition of +the liver—something, in short, entirely foreign to the +known and recognized laws of motion, disturbed his equilibrium, +but rarely an out-and-out case of sea-sickness. +That is a weakness of human nature fortunately confined +to the ladies. Indeed, I don’t know what the gentler +sex would do if it were not for the kindness of Providence +in exempting the ruder portion of humanity from +this unpleasant accompaniment of sea-life, only it unfortunately +happens that the gentlemen are usually afflicted +with some other dire and disabling visitation about the +same time.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_steamer_entering_the_fjord" id="the_steamer_entering_the_fjord"></a> +<img src="images/thor030.png" width="600" height="454" +alt="The steamer sails between rocks at the entrance" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE STEAMER ENTERING THE FJORD.</p> + +<p>Toward noon the fog broke away, and we sighted the +rocky headlands of the Christiania Fjord. In a few +hours more we were steaming our way into this magnificent +sheet of water at a dashing rate, and the decks +were crowded with a gay and happy company. No +more the pangs of despised love, indigestion, gout, and +bilious colic disturbed the gentlemen of this lively party; +no more the fair ladies of Hamburg and Copenhagen +hid themselves away in their state-rooms, and called in +vain to their natural protectors for assistance. The sea +was smooth; the sun shot forth through the whirling +rain-clouds his brightest August beams. All along the +shores of the Fjord, the rocky points, jutting abruptly +from the water, rose like embattled towers, crowned +with a variegated covering of moss, grim and hoary with +the wild winds and scathing winters of the North. +Beautiful little valleys, ravines, and slopes of woodland +of such rich and glittering green opened out to us on +either side, as we swept past the headlands, that the +vision was dazzled with the profusion and variety of the +charms bestowed upon this wilderness of romantic scenery. +A group of fishermen’s huts, behind a bold and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[296]</a></span> +jagged point of rocks—a rude lugger or fishing-smack, +manned by a hardy crew of Norskmen, rough and +weather-beaten as the ocean monsters of their stormy +coast, gliding out of some nook among the rocky inlets—here +the cozy little cottage of some well-to-do sea-captain, +half fisher, half farmer, with a gang of white-headed +little urchins running out over the cliffs to take +a peep at the passing steamer, the frugal matron standing +in the door resplendent in her red woolen petticoat +and fanciful head-dress, knitting a pair of stockings, or +some such token of love, for her absent lord—there, a +pretty little village, with a church, a wharf, and a few +store-houses, shrinking back behind the protecting wing +of some huge and rugged citadel of rocks, the white cottages +glittering pleasantly in the rays of the evening +sun, and the smoke curling up peacefully over the surrounding +foliage, and floating off till it vanished in the +rich glow of the sky—all so calm, so dreamy in colors +and outline that the imagination is absolutely bewildered +with the varied feast of beauties: such are the characteristic +features of this noble sheet of water.</p> + +<p>The Christiania Fjord is one of the largest in Norway. +Commencing at Frederickstadt on the one side and Sandesund +on the other, it extends into the interior a distance +of seventy or eighty miles, making one of the finest +natural harbors in the world. The water is deep, and +the shores are almost rock-bound. In many places the +navigation is somewhat intricate, owing to the numerous +rocky islands and rugged headlands; but the Norwegian +pilots are thoroughly experienced in their business, and +know every foot of the way as familiarly as they know +their own snug little cabins perched up among the rocks.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="coast_of_norway" id="coast_of_norway"></a> +<img src="images/thor031.png" width="600" height="449" +alt="Towering rocks and cliffs, a few boats, and some small houses" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">COAST OF NORWAY.</p> + +<p>Touching at the picturesque little town of Horten on +the left, we discharged some passengers and took in +others, after which we proceeded without farther incident +to the town of Drobak on the right. Here the +Fjord is narrow, presenting something the appearance +of a river. A group of fortifications on the cliffs +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[298]</a></span> +protects this passage. The view on leaving Drobak is inexpressibly +beautiful. The Fjord widens gradually till +it assumes the form of an immense lake, the shores of +which rise abruptly from the water, covered with forests +of pine. Moss-covered rocks, green wooded islands, and +innumerable fishing-craft, give variety and animation to +the scene. Range upon range of wild and rugged +mountains extend back through the dim distance on +either side till their vague and fanciful outlines are mingled +with the clouds. Nothing can exceed the richness +and beauty of the atmospheric tints. A golden glow, +mingled with deep shades of purple, illuminates the sky. +In the distance the snowy peaks of the vast interior +ranges of mountains glisten in the evening sun. The +deep green of the foliage which decks the islands and +promontories of the Fjord casts its reflected hues upon +the surface of the sleeping waters. In the valleys, which +from time to time open out as we sweep along on our +way, rich yellow fields of grain make a brilliant and +striking contrast to the sombre tints of the pine forests +in the rear.</p> + +<p>It was long after sunset, but still light enough to enjoy +all the beauties of the Fjord, when we saw before us +the numerous and picturesque villas that adorn the +neighborhood of Christiania. Passing the fine old castle +of Aggershuus on the left, we rounded a point, and +then came in full view of the town and harbor.</p> + +<p>Surely there is nothing like this in the whole world, I +thought, as I gazed for the first time upon this charming +scene. The strange old-fashioned buildings, the castle, +the palace on the hill-top, the shipping at the wharves, +the gardens on every slope, the varied outlines of the +neighboring cliffs and hills, covered with groves and +green slopes of rich sward; every nook glimmering with +beautiful villas; the whole reflected in the glowing waters +that sweep through the maze of islands and headlands +in every direction; can there be any thing more +beautiful in all the world?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[299]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_islands" id="the_islands"></a> +<img src="images/thor032.png" width="600" height="443" +alt="Small islands, some with a little house on them, and a few boats on the sea" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE ISLANDS.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[300]</a></span> +The steamer was soon hauled alongside the wharf, +where a crowd of citizens was gathered to see us land. +Here again was a scene characteristic of Norway. No +hurry, no confusion, no shouting and clamoring for passengers, +but all quiet, primitive, and good-humored. +How different from a landing at New York or San Francisco! +Three or four sturdy hack-drivers stood smoking +their pipes, watching the proceedings with an air +of philosophical indifference truly refreshing. Fathers, +mothers, sisters, brothers, and cousins of various parties +on board, waved their handkerchiefs and nodded affectionately +to their friends and relatives, but kept their enthusiasm +within limits till the plank was put out, when +they came on board, and kissed and hugged every body +of their acquaintance in the most affectionate manner. +The officers of the customs, good easy souls! also came +on board, books in hand, and made a kind of examination +of the baggage. It was neither severe nor formal, +and I felt an absolute friendship for the chief officer on +account of the jolly manner in which he looked at me, +and asked me if I had any thing contraband in my little +knapsack. I offered to open it, but with a wave of his +hand he chalked a pass upon it and I walked ashore. +For the first time in my life I here felt the inconvenience +of not being persecuted by porters and hack-drivers. +The few who were on hand seemed to be particular +friends or relatives of parties on board, and were already +engaged. I walked up the queer, grass-grown +old streets, looking around in the dim twilight for a hotel; +and after stumbling into half a dozen odd-looking +shops and store-houses, contrived to make my way to +the Hotel Victoria, said to be the best in Christiania.</p> + +<p>As it is no part of my purpose to write a book on +Christiania, I shall only say that for the next three days +I rambled about enjoying all the objects of interest in +this quaint northern city—the churches, the museum, +the castle, the palace, the ups and downs of the streets, +the market-places, wharves, and gardens, and the magic +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[301]</a></span> +beauties of the neighborhood. There is a plainness and +simplicity about the people of Christiania, a good-humor +of expression, a kindliness of manner and natural politeness +that impressed me very favorably. The society is +said to be genial and cultivated. I have no doubt of the +fact, though my stay was too short to afford an opportunity +of making many acquaintances.</p> + +<p>At the Hotel Victoria I met Ole Bull, who was on a +tour through his native land. He sat near me at the +<i>table d’hôte</i>, and I had an opportunity of noticing the +changes which time has made in his appearance. The +last time I had seen him was in Columbus, Ohio, in 1844. +He was then in the very prime of life, slender and graceful, +yet broad of shoulder and powerful of limb; with +light straight hair, clear blue eyes, and a healthy Northern +complexion. He is now quite altered, and I am not +sure that I would have recognized him had he not been +pointed out to me. In form he is much stouter, though +not so erect as he was in former years. His hair is +sprinkled with gray. He retains the same noble cast of +features, and deep, dreamy, and genial expression of eye +as of old, but his complexion is sallow, and his face is +marked by lines of care. There is something sad and +touching in his manner. I do not know what his misfortunes +in America may have to do with his present dejected +expression, but he seems to me to be a man who +has met with great disappointments in life. Although +I sat beside him at the table, and might have claimed +acquaintance as one of his most ardent American admirers, +I was deterred from speaking to him by something +peculiar in his manner—not coldness, for that is +not in his nature—but an apparent withdrawal from the +outer world into himself. A feeling that it might be intrusive +to address him kept me silent. I afterward sent +him a few lines, expressing a desire to renew my early +acquaintance with him; but he left town while I was absent +on an excursion to the Frogner-assen, and, much to +my regret, I missed seeing him.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[302]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII.</h2> + +<h3>FROM CHRISTIANIA TO LILLEHAMMER.</h3> + + +<p>The population of Christiania is something over +40,000, and of late years it has become quite a place of +resort for tourists on the way to the interior of Norway. +The houses built since the fire of 1858, which destroyed +a considerable portion of the town, are large and substantial, +built of stone and covered with cement. The +streets for the most part are broad and roughly paved. +Very little of characteristic style is observable in the +costume of the citizens. Plainness of dress, simple and +primitive manners, and good nature, are the leading +traits of the Norwegians. Christiania is the modern +capital of Norway, and was founded by Christian IV. +of Denmark, near the site of the ancient capital of Osloe, +which was founded in 1058 by King Harold Hardraade. +Some of the old buildings still remain in a state of good +preservation; but the chief interest of the city consists +in its castle, university, library, and museum of Northern +antiquities. A traveler from the busy cities of America +is struck with the quiet aspect of the streets, and the +almost death-like silence that reigns in them after dark. +In many places the sidewalks are overgrown with grass, +and the houses are green with moss. Stagnation broods +in the very atmosphere. Christiania is in all respects +the antipodes of San Francisco. A Californian could +scarcely endure an existence in such a place for six +weeks. He would go stark mad from sheer inanity. +Beautiful as the scenery is, and pleasantly as the time +passed during my brief sojourn, it was not without a +feeling of relief that I took my departure in the cars for +Eidsvold.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="approach_to_christiania" id="approach_to_christiania"></a> +<img src="images/thor033.png" width="600" height="444" +alt="Boats sail between the cliffs towards the town" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">APPROACH TO CHRISTIANIA.</p> + +<p>The railway from Christiania to Eidsvold is the only +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[304]</a></span> +one yet in operation in Norway. It was a pretty heavy +undertaking, considering the rough country and the limited +resources of the people; but it was finally completed, +and is now considered a great feature in Norwegian +civilization. Some idea may be formed of the backwardness +of facilities for internal communication throughout +this country when I mention the fact that beyond +the distance of forty miles to Eidsvold and the Lake of +Miösen, the traveler is dependent upon such vehicles as +he takes with him, unless he chooses to incur the risk of +procuring a conveyance at Hamar or Lillehammer. The +whole country is a series of rugged mountains, narrow +valleys, desolate fjelds, rivers, and fjords. There are no +regular communications between one point and another +on any of the public highways, and the interior districts +are supplied with such commodities as they require from +the sea-board solely by means of heavy wagons, sledges, +boats, and such other primitive modes of transportation +as the nature of the country and the season may render +most available.</p> + +<p>Like every thing else in Norway, the cars on the Eidsvold +railway have rather more of a rustic than a metropolitan +appearance. They are extremely simple in construction +and rural in decoration; and as for the road, +it may be very good compared with a trail over the Sierra +Nevada Mountains, but it is absolutely frightful +to travel over it by steam. Three hours is the allowance +of time for forty miles. If I remember correctly, +we stretched it out to four, on account of a necessary +stoppage on the way, caused by the tumbling down of +some rocks from an overhanging cliff. The jolting is +enough to dislocate one’s vertebræ; and I had a vague +feeling all the time during the trip that the locomotive +would jump off the track, and dash her brains out against +some of the terrible boulders of granite that stood frowning +at us on either side as we worried our way along +from station to station.</p> + +<p>It was nearly dark when we came to a saw-mill by the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[305]</a></span> +roadside. The scenery is pretty all the way from Christiania, +but not very striking till the train passes the narrow +gorge in which the saw-mill is situated, where there +is a tunnel of a few hundred feet that penetrates a bluff +on the left. Emerging from this, we are close upon the +charming little village of Eidsvold, one of the loveliest +spots in this land of beauty. A few minutes more brought +us to the station-house, where the railway ends. Here +we found ourselves at a good hotel, picturesquely situated +on the bank of the Wormen, a river flowing from +the Miösen Lake.</p> + +<p>At eleven o’clock on a fine Sunday forenoon I took my +departure from Eidsvold on board one of the little lake +steamers. These vessels are well managed, and not inconveniently +arranged, but they are so very small that +on particular occasions, when there is an unusual pressure +of travelers, it is difficult to find room for a seat. +Owing to the facilities afforded by the railway from +Christiania, an excursion to Lillehammer is the most +popular way of passing a Sunday during the summer +months, and this being the height of the season, the +crowd was unusually great. It also happened that two +hundred soldiers, who had served out their time, were +returning to their homes in the interior, so that there +was no lack of company on board. If the soldiers were +somewhat lively and frolicsome, it was nothing more +than natural under the circumstances. A good many +were intoxicated—at the idea, perhaps, of getting home +once more, and their songs and merry shouts of laughter +kept every body in a good humor. I am unable to account +for a curious fact, which I may as well mention in +this connection. Whenever the authorities of any country +through which I chance to travel have occasion to +send their troops from one point to another, they invariably +send them upon the same boat or in the same railway +train upon which I have the fortune to take passage. +There must be something military in my appearance, +or some natural propensity for bloodshed in my +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[306]</a></span> +nature, that causes this affinity to exist between us, for +it has happened altogether too often to be accidental. +The King of Sicily, some years ago, sent a party of +troops to keep me company to Palermo. Subsequently +the King of Greece favored me with a large military +convoy to one of the Greek islands. After that I had +an independent supervision of various bodies of Turkish +soldiers on board of different vessels within the Turkish +dominions. Recently Napoleon III. sent down by the +same train of cars, from Paris to Marseilles, about four +hundred of his troops for Algiers. Being detained at +Marseilles by some unforeseen circumstance, I had the +pleasure of seeing these men shipped off on the first +steamer. I took passage in the next. By some extraordinary +fatality, for which there is no accounting, there +were upward of five hundred additional troops shipped +on this vessel. It was a consolation to know that a +storm was brewing, and that they would soon be all sea-sick. +Before we got out of the Gulf of Lyons I could +have slain every man of them with a pocket-knife. It +was therefore with a spirit of resignation that I saw the +Norwegian soldiers come on board at Eidsvold. Fate +had ordained that we should travel together, and it was +no use to complain. Besides, I liked their looks. As +stalwart, blue-eyed, jovial, and hearty-looking a set of +fellows they were as ever I saw in any country—men of +far higher intelligence and physical capacity than the +average of soldiers in Continental Europe. That these +were the right sort of men to fight for their country +there could be no doubt. I have rarely seen finer troops +any where than those of Norway.</p> + +<p>The Miösen Lake is sixty-three miles in length, extending +from Minde to Lillehammer, and varies in width +from five to ten miles. The broadest part is opposite to +Hamar, nearly at the centre, and not far from the island +of Helgeö. The shores embrace some of the finest farming +lands in Norway; and after passing Minde, the sloping +hill-sides are dotted with pretty little farm-houses, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[307]</a></span> +and beautifully variegated with fields and orchards. In +many places, so numerous are the cottages of the thrifty +farmers hung in this favored region, that they resemble +a continuous village, extending for many miles along the +hill-sides. There is not much in the natural aspect of +the country to attract the lover of bold mountain scenery. +The beauties of the shores of Miösen are of a gentle +and pastoral character, and become monotonous after +a few hours. Near Hamar, on the right, there are the +ruins of an old cathedral, burned and plundered by the +Swedes in 1567.</p> + +<p>Apart from the ordinary interest of the Miösen Lake, +arising from the quiet, pastoral character of its shores, it +possessed a peculiar charm to me, owing to the fact that, +in 1755, when the great earthquake occurred at Lisbon, +its waters rose twenty feet, and suddenly retreated. Only +a few months previously I had visited the city of Lisbon, +and stood upon the very spot, where, in six minutes, over +sixty thousand souls had been buried beneath the ruins. +I was now, so to speak, following up an earthquake.</p> + +<p>It was late at night when we arrived at the pretty little +town of Lillehammer, at the head of the lake. Leaving +the steamer here, I found myself, for the first time, +beyond the limits of the English language. A Norwegian +with whom I had become acquainted on board the +boat was kind enough to walk up town with me and +show me the way to the post station, where I had some +difficulty in procuring accommodations, owing to the +number of recent arrivals.</p> + +<p>The town of Lillehammer contains twelve or fifteen +hundred inhabitants, whose principal industry consists in +the lumber business. Immense rafts are towed down +the lake every day by the returning steamers, and carried +by rail from Eidsvold to Christiania. The logs are +drifted down the Logen River from the interior, and cut +up at Lillehammer and Eidsvold. Such as are designed +for spars are dressed and stripped at the latter place. +There are many other points on the lake from which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[308]</a></span> +supplies of timber are also transferred to Christiania, so that, +between farming, fishing, and lumbering, the inhabitants +of this region make out a very comfortable subsistence, +and generally own the lands upon which they reside. +Many of them are wealthy—for this part of the world.</p> + +<p>Lillehammer is prettily situated on an eminence, and +consists of log and frame houses, presenting much the appearance +of a Western lake village in the United States. +The view of the Miösen and its verdant shores is very +fine from the top of the hill. It was ten o’clock at night +when I arrived, although the sky was still lighted up +with a purple glow from the departed sun. Something +of the wonderful scenic beauties of the country were still +visible. A party of French tourists, who had come to +Norway to make a three days’ visit, set off at this late +hour to see the torrent which breaks from the side of the +mountain, about half a mile beyond the town. I was solicited +to join them; but my passion for sight-seeing was +rather obscured by the passion of hunger and thirst. At +such times I am practical enough to prefer a good supper +to the best waterfall in the world. Waterfalls can +be postponed. Hunger must be promptly satisfied. +Thirst makes one dry. A distant view of falling water +is a poor substitute for a glass of good ale. There is no +fear that any ordinary cataract will run itself out before +morning.</p> + +<p>This was my first experience of a post station, and very +pleasant I found it. The inns of Norway are plain, cheap, +and comfortable; not very elegant in appearance, but as +good in all respects as a plain traveler could desire. I +had a capital supper at Lillehammer, consisting of beefsteak, +eggs, bread, butter, and coffee—enough to satisfy +any reasonable man. The rooms are clean, the beds and +bedding neat and comfortable, and the charge for supper, +lodging, and breakfast not exceeding an average of +about fifty cents. At some of the interior stations I was +charged only about twenty-five cents, and in no instance +was I imposed upon. The inn-keepers are so generally +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[309]</a></span> +obliging and good-natured that there is very little difficulty +in getting along with them. A few words always +sufficed to make my wants understood, and the greatest +kindness and alacrity were invariably shown in supplying +them. But I anticipate my journey.</p> + +<p>After a pleasant night’s rest I arose bright and early; +and here, being for the first time thrown completely upon +my own resources in the way of language, was obliged +to have recourse to my vocabulary to get at the means +of asking for breakfast and a horse and cariole. Fancy +a lean and hungry man standing before a substantial +landlord, trying to spell out a breakfast from his book in +some such way as this:</p> + +<p>“Jeg vil Spise [I will eat]!”</p> + +<p>“Ya, min Herr!” the landlord politely answers.</p> + +<p>“Jeg vil Frokost [I will breakfast]!”</p> + +<p>“Ya, min Herr;” and the landlord runs off into a perfect +labyrinth of birds, fish, eggs, beefsteak, hot cakes, +and other luxuries, which the inexperienced traveler is +vainly attempting to follow up in his book. In despair, +he at length calls out,</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!—that’s all right! any thing you say, my fine +old gentleman!”</p> + +<p>At which the landlord scratches his head, for he doesn’t +understand precisely what you have selected. Now you +take your book, and explain slowly and systematically:</p> + +<p>“Kaffee!”</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>“Œgg!”</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>“Fisk!”</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>“Smör og Brod!”</p> + +<p>Here the landlord is staggered, and scratches his head +again. <i>Smör</i> he gets a glimmering of, but the bread +stuns him. You try it in a dozen different ways—broad, +breyd, breed, brode, braid. At length a light flashes upon +his mind. You want bread! Simple as the word is, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[310]</a></span> +though he pronounces it precisely according to one of +your own methods, as you suppose, it is difficult to get +the peculiar intonation that renders it intelligible.</p> + +<p>“Ja!” And thus you lay the foundation of your +breakfast; after which, having progressed so far in the +language, there is no great difficulty in asking for a +“Heste og Cariole” [a horse and cariole].</p> + +<p>A little practice in this way soon enables the traveler +to acquire a sufficient knowledge of the language for the +ordinary purposes of communication along the road. +With a smattering of the German it comes very readily +to one who speaks English, being something of a mixture +between these two languages. I was really astonished +to find how well I could understand it, and make myself +understood, in the course of a few days, though candor +obliges me to say that if there is any one thing in the +world for which nature never intended me it is a linguist.</p> + +<p>I was in hopes of finding at Lillehammer a party of +tourists bound over the Dovre Fjeld to Trondhjem, of +whom I had heard in Christiania. In this I was disappointed. +They had started a few days previously. An +omnibus was advertised to run as far as Elstad, some +thirty-five miles up the valley of Gudbransdalen, which +would be so much gained on my route. It seemed, however, +that it only ran whenever a sufficient number of +passengers offered—so I was obliged to give up that +prospect.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX.</h2> + +<h3>HOW THEY TRAVEL IN NORWAY.</h3> + + +<p>Nothing can be more characteristic of Norwegian seclusion +from the world than the rude means of inland +communication between the principal cities. Here was +a public highway between two of the most important +sea-ports in the country—Christiania and Trondhjem—without +as much as a stage to carry passengers. Every +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[311]</a></span> +traveler has to depend upon his own vehicle, or upon +such rude and casual modes of conveyance as he can find +at the stations by the wayside. I asked the reason of +this backward state of things, and was informed that the +amount of travel is insufficient to support any regular +stage line. The season for tourists lasts only about three +months, and during the remainder of the year very few +strangers have occasion to pass over the roads. In winter—which, +of course, lasts very long in this latitude—the +whole country is covered with snow, and sledges are +altogether used, both for purposes of traveling and the +transportation of merchandise from the sea-board. The +products of the country—such as logs, spars, and boards—are +prepared during these months for rafting down +the rivers during the spring floods. Once, as I was told, +an enterprising Englishman had started a regular stage-line +from Christiania to Trondhjem, in consequence of +the repeated complaints of the traveling public, who objected +to the delays to which they were subject; but he +was soon obliged to discontinue it for want of patronage. +When travelers had a convenient way of getting +over, they grumbled at being hurried through, and preferred +taking the usual conveyances of the country, +which afforded them an opportunity of enjoying the +scenery and stopping wherever they pleased. People +did not come all the way to Norway, they said, to fly +through it without seeing any of its wonders and beauties. +There was some philosophy in this, as well as a +touch of human nature. It reminded me of the Frenchman +in Paris who lived to be eighty years of age without +ever leaving the city; when the king, for the sake +of experiment, positively forbid him from doing so during +the remainder of his life. The poor fellow was immediately +seized with an inordinate desire to see something +of the outside world, and petitioned so hard for +the privilege of leaving the city that the king, unable to +resist his importunities, granted him the privilege, after +which the man was perfectly satisfied, and remained in +Paris to the day of his death.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[312]</a></span> +By reference to a copy of the laws on the subject of +post-travel, which I had procured in Christiania from a +Mr. Bennett, I discovered that the system is singularly +complicated and hazardous, as well as a little curious in +some of its details. The stations are situated along the +road about every eight or ten miles (counted in Norwegian +by so many hours). Nothing that we could call a +village is to be seen in any part of the interior, unless +the few straggling farm-houses occasionally huddled together, +with a church in the centre, may be considered +in that light. The stations usually stand alone, in some +isolated spot on the wayside, and consist of a little log +or frame tavern, a long shambling stable, innumerable +odds and ends of cribs, store-houses, and outbuildings, +forming a kind of court or stable-yard; a rickety medley +of old carts and carioles lying about basking in the sun; +a number of old white-headed men smoking their pipes, +and leathery-faced women on household duties intent, +with a score or so of little cotton-headed children running +about over the manure pile in the neighborhood of +the barn, to keep the pigs company; here and there a +strapping lout of a boy swinging on a gate and whistling +for his own amusement; while cows, sheep, goats, chickens, +and other domestic animals and birds browse, nibble, +and peck all over the yard in such a lazy and rural +manner as would delight an artist. This is the ordinary +Norwegian station.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="station_house_logen_valley" id="station_house_logen_valley"></a> +<img src="images/thor034.png" width="600" height="446" +alt="A small group of log buildings, the station-house in the foreground" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">STATION-HOUSE, LOGEN VALLEY.</p> + +<p>There is always a good room for the traveler, and +plenty of excellent homely fare to eat. At some few +places along the route the station-houses aspire to the +style and dignity of hotels, but they are not always the +best or most comfortable. Then there are “fast” and +“slow” stations—so called in the book of laws. At the +fast stations the traveler can procure a horse and cariole +without delay—fifteen minutes being the legal limit. +At the slow stations he must wait till the neighborhood, +for a distance of three or four miles perhaps, is searched +for a horse—sometimes for both horse and cariole. If +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[314]</a></span> +he chooses to incur the expense he can send forward a +<i>Forbad</i>, or notice in advance, requiring horses to be +ready at each station at a specified time; but if he is not +there according to notice, he must pay so much per hour +for the delay. A day-book is kept at each of these post-houses, +in which the traveler must enter his name, stating +the time of his arrival and departure, where he came from, +his destination, how many horses he requires, etc. In +this formidable book he may also specify any complaint +he has to make against the station-holder, boy, horse, +cariole, or any body, animal, or thing that maltreats him, +cheats him, or in any way misuses him on the journey; +but he must take care to have the inn-keeper or some +such disinterested person as a witness in his behalf, so +that when the matter comes before the Amtmand, or +grand tribunal of justice, it may be fairly considered and +disposed of according to law. When the inn-keeper, +station-holder, posting-master, alderman, or other proper +functionary on the premises, fails to present this book +and require the traveler to sign his name in it, he (the +arrant violator of laws) is fined; but the traveler need +not flatter himself that the rule does not work both ways, +for he also is fined if he refuses or intentionally neglects +to write his name in the said book. The number of +horses to be kept at fast stations is fixed by law, and no +traveler is to be detained more than a quarter of an hour, +unless in certain cases, when he may be detained half an +hour. At a slow station he must not be detained over +three hours—such is the utmost stretch of the law. +Think of that, ye Gothamites, who complain if you are +detained any where on the face of the earth three minutes—only +detained three hours every eight or ten miles! +But for delay occasioned by any insuperable impediment, +says the Norwegian law-book—such as a storm at sea, +or too great a distance between the inns—no liability is +incurred on either side. A Philadelphia lawyer could +drive six-and-thirty coaches-and-four, all abreast, through +such a law as that, and then leave room enough for a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[315]</a></span> +Stockton wagon and mule-team on each side. Who is +to judge of the weather or the distance between the +inns? When the traveler holds the reins he is responsible +for the horse, but when the post-boy does the holding, +he, the said boy, is the responsible party. Should +any post-horse be ill treated or overdriven when the +traveler holds the reins, so that, in the language of the +law, “the station-holder, inn-keeper, or two men at the +next station can perceive this to be the case, the traveler +shall pay for the injury according to the estimation +of these men, and he shall not be allowed to be sent on +until the payment is made.” The traveler pays all tolls +and ferry charges. “When the road is very hilly, or is +in out-of-the-way districts where there are but few horses +in proportion to the travel, and the distance between the +stations is unusually long, or under other circumstances +where the burden on the people obligated to find horses +is evidently very oppressive, etc.,” “it may be ordered +by the king, after a declaration to that effect has been +procured by the authorities, that payment for posting +may be reckoned according to a greater distance, in proportion +to the circumstances, as far as double the actual +distance.”</p> + +<p>In addition to all these formidable regulations—against +which it seems to me it would be impossible for any ordinary +man to contend—the tariff fixes the price of posting +for fast and slow stations in the country, the only difficulty +being to find where the towns are after you get +into them, or to know at what stage of the journey you +leave them. The Amtmand, by letter to all the authorities, +likewise requires the tariff to be hung conspicuously +in all the inns; which tariff, says the law, “is altered according +to the rise and fall of provisions.”</p> + +<p>When I came to study out all this, and consider the +duties and obligations imposed on me as a traveler going +a journey of three or four hundred miles; that I was to +be subject to contingencies and liabilities depending upon +the elements both by land and sea; that serious +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[316]</a></span> +responsibilities fell upon me if I held the reins of the post-horse, +and probably heavy risks of life and limb if the post-boy +held them; that the inn-keeper, station-holder, alderman, +or two men chosen miscellaneously from the ranks of +society, were to judge of damages that might be inflicted +upon the horse; that I must register my name in a day-book, +and enter formal complaints against the authorities +on the way about every ten miles; that the tariff might +rise and fall five hundred times during the journey, for +aught I knew, according to the rise and fall of provisions +or the pleasure of the Amtmand; that conspiracies might +be entered into against me to make me pay for all the +lame, halt, blind, and spavined horses in the country, and +my liberty restrained in some desolate region of the +mountains; that I could not speak a dozen words of the +language, and had no other means of personal defense +against imposition than a small pen-knife and the natural +ferocity of my countenance—when all these considerations +occurred to me, I confess they made me hesitate a +little before launching out from Lillehammer.</p> + +<p>However, the landlord of the post, a jolly and good-natured +old gentleman, relieved my apprehensions by +providing such a breakfast of coffee, eggs, beefsteak, +fish, and bread, that my sunken spirits were soon thoroughly +aroused, and I felt equal to any emergency. +When I looked out on the bright hill-sides, and saw the +sun glistening on the dewy sod, and heard the post-boys +in the yard whistling merrily to the horses, I was prepared +to face the great Amtmand itself. In a little while +the horse and cariole designed for my use were brought +up before the door, and the landlord informed me that +all was “<i>fertig</i>.”</p> + +<p>Now, was there ever such a vehicle for a full-grown +man to travel in? A little thing, with a body like the +end of a canoe, perched up on two long shafts, with a +pair of wheels in the rear; no springs, and only a few +straps of leather for a harness; a board behind for the +skydskaarl, or post-boy, to sit upon; and a horse not bigger +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[317]</a></span> +than a large mountain goat to drag me over the +road! It was positively absurd. After enjoying the +spectacle for a moment, and making a hurried sketch of +it, wondering what manner of man had first contrived +such a vehicle, I bounced in, and stretched my legs out +on each side, bracing my feet against a pair of iron +catches, made expressly for that purpose. Fortunately, +I am a capital driver. If nature ever intended me for +any one profession above all others, it must have been +for a stage-driver. I have driven buggies, wagons, and +carts in California hundreds of miles, and never yet killed +any body. Like the Irishman, I can drive within two +inches of a precipice without going over. Usually, however, +I let the horse take his own way, which, after all, +is the grand secret of skillful driving.</p> + +<p>My baggage consisted of a knapsack containing two +shirts and an extra pair of stockings, a sketch-book and +some pencils, and such other trifling knick-knacks as a +tourist usually requires in this country. I carried no +more outside clothing than what common decency required: +a rough hunting-coat, a pair of stout cloth pantaloons, +and an old pair of boots—which is as much as +any traveler needs on a Norwegian tour, though it is +highly recommended by an English writer that every +traveler should provide himself with two suits of clothes, +a Mackintosh, a portable desk, an India-rubber pillow, a +few blankets, an opera-glass, a musquito-net, a thermometer, +some dried beef, and a dozen boxes of sardines, +besides a stock of white bread, and two bottles of English +pickles.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX.</h2> + +<h3>A NORWEGIAN GIRL.</h3> + + +<p>With a crack of the whip that must have astonished +the landlord, and caused him some misgivings for the +fate of his horse and cariole, I took my departure from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[318]</a></span> +Lillehammer. About half a mile beyond the town we +(the skydskaarl, myself, horse, and cariole) passed the +falls—a roaring torrent of water tumbling down from +the mountain side on the right. Several extensive saw-mills +are located at this point. The piles of lumber outside, +and the familiar sounds of the saws and wheels, reminded +me of home. The scene was pretty and picturesque, +but rather disfigured by the progress of Norwegian +civilization. Passing numerous thriving farms in +the full season of harvest, the road winding pleasantly +along the hill-side to the right, the foaming waters of the +Logen deep down in the valley to the left, we at length +reached the entrance of the Gudbransdalen—that beautiful +and fertile valley, which stretches all the way up the +course of the Logen to the Dovre Fjeld, a distance of a +hundred and sixty-eight miles from Lillehammer. It +would be an endless task to undertake a description of +the beauties of this valley. From station to station it is +a continued panorama of dashing waterfalls, towering +mountains, green slopes, pine forests overtopping the +cliffs, rich and thriving farms, with innumerable log cottages +perched up among the cliffs, and wild and rugged +defiles through which the road passes, sometimes overhung +by shrubbery for miles at a stretch. Flying along +the smoothly-graded highway at a rapid rate; independent +of all the world except your horse and boy; the bright +sunshine glimmering through the trees; the music of the +wild waters falling pleasantly on your ear; each turn of +the road opening out something rich, new, and strange; +the fresh mountain air invigorating every fibre of your +frame; renewed youth and health beginning to glow +upon your cheeks; digestion performing its functions +without a pang or a hint of remonstrance; kind, genial, +open-hearted people wherever you stop—is it not an +episode in life worth enjoying? The valley of the Logen +must surely be a paradise (in summer) for invalids.</p> + +<p>At each station the traveler is furnished with a stunted +little boy called the skydskaarl, usually clothed in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[319]</a></span> +cast-off rags of his great-grandfather; his head ornamented +by a flaming red night-cap, and his feet either bare or +the next thing to it; his hair standing out in every direction +like a mop dyed in whitewash and yellow ochre, +and his face and hands freckled and sunburned, and not +very clean, while his manners are any thing but cultivated. +This remarkable boy sits on a board behind the +cariole, and drives it back to the station from which it +starts. He is regarded somewhat in the light of a high +public functionary by his contemporary ragamuffins, +having been promoted from the fields or the barn-yard +to the honorable position of skydskaarl. His countenance +is marked by the lines of premature care and responsibility, +but varies in expression according to circumstances. +The sum of four cents at the end of an hour’s +journey gives it an extremely amiable and intelligent +cast. Some boys are constitutionally knowing, and have +a quick, sharp look; others again are dull and stolid, as +naturally happens wherever there is a variety of boys +born of different parents. For the most part, they are +exceedingly bright and lively little fellows. Mounted +on their seat of honor at the back of the cariole, they +greatly enliven the way by whistling and singing, and +asking questions in their native tongue, which it is sometimes +very difficult to answer when one is not familiar +with the language.</p> + +<p>I had at Moshuus a communicative little boy, who +talked to me incessantly all the way to Holmen without +ever discovering, so far as I could perceive, that I did +not understand a single word he said. Another, after +repeated efforts to draw me out, fell into a fit of moody +silence, and from that into a profound slumber, which +was only broken off toward the end of our journey by +an accident. The cariole struck against a stone and tilted +him out on the road. He was a good deal surprised, +but said nothing.</p> + +<p>Another little fellow, not more than six or seven years +of age—a pretty fair-haired child—was sent with me over +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[320]</a></span> +a very wild and broken stage of the journey. He was +newly dressed in a suit of gray frieze with brass buttons, +and was evidently a shining light at home. On the road +a dog ran out from the bushes and barked at us. The +poor little skydskaarl was frantic with terror, and cried +so lustily that I had to take him into the cariole, and put +him under my legs to keep him from going into fits. He +bellowed all the way to the next station, where I endeavored +to make the inn-keeper understand that it was cruel +to send so small a boy on such a hazardous journey. The +man laughed and said “Ja! he is too little!” which was +all I could get out of him. I felt unhappy about this +poor child all day.</p> + +<p>On another occasion I had a bright, lively little fellow +about twelve years of age, who was so pleased to find +that I was an American that he stopped every body on +the road to tell them this important piece of news, so +that it took me about three hours to go a distance of +seven or eight miles. There was a light of intelligence +in the boy’s face that enabled me to comprehend him almost +by instinct, and the quickness with which he caught +at my half-formed words, and gathered my meaning +when I told him of the wonders of California, were really +surprising. This boy was a natural genius. He will +leave his mountain home some day or other and make a +leading citizen of the United States. Already he was +eager to dash out upon the world and see some of its +novelties and wonders.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 278px;"> +<a name="station_boy" id="station_boy"></a> +<img src="images/thor035.png" width="278" height="500" +alt="A boy sits on a ledge at the back of a cariole" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">STATION-BOY.</p> + +<p>At Laurgaard I was favored with a small urchin who +must have been modeled upon one of Hogarth’s pictures. +He was a fixed laugh all over. His mouth, nose, ears, +eyes, hair, and chin were all turned up in a broad grin. +Even the elbows of his coat and the knees of his trowsers +were wide open with ill-concealed laughter. He laughed +when he saw me, and laughed more than ever when he +heard me “<i>tale Norsk</i>.” There was something uncommonly +amusing to this little shaver in the cut of a man’s +jib who could not speak good Norwegian. All the way +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[321]</a></span> +up the hill he whistled, sang lively snatches of song, +joked with the horse, and when the horse nickered laughed +a young horse-laugh to keep him company. It did me +good to see the rascal so cheery. I gave him an extra +shilling at Braendhagen for his lively spirit, at which +he grinned all over wider than ever, put the small change +in his pocket, and with his red night-cap in one hand +made a dodge of his head at me, as if snapping at a fly, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[322]</a></span> +and then held out his spare hand to give me a shake. +Of course I shook hands with him.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 390px;"> +<a name="good_by_many_thanks" id="good_by_many_thanks"></a> +<img src="images/thor036.png" width="390" height="500" +alt="A station-boy shakes hands with his customer" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GOOD-BY—MANY THANKS!</p> + +<p>Shaking hands with small boys, however, is nothing +uncommon in Norway. Every boy on the entire route +shook hands with me. Whenever I settled the fare the +skydskaarl invariably pulled off his cap, or, if he had +none, gave a pull at the most prominent bunch of hair, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[323]</a></span> +and holding forth a flipper, more or less like a lump of +raw beef, required me, by all the laws of politeness, to +give it a shake. The simplicity with which they did this, +and the awkward kindliness of their manner, as they +wished me a pleasant trip, always formed an agreeable +episode in the day’s travel. I have shaken a greater variety +of boys’ hands in Norway—of every size, kind, and +quality, fat, lean, clean, and dirty, dry and wet—than ever +I shook all over the world before. Notwithstanding the +amount of water in the country, I must have carried away +from Trondhjem about a quarter of a pound of the native +soil. Between the contortions of body and limb acquired +by a brief residence in Paris, the battering out of +several hats against my knee in the process of bowing +throughout the cities of Germany, and the shaking of +various boys’ hands on my trip through Norway, I consider +that my politeness now qualifies me for any society.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="norwegian_peasant_family" id="norwegian_peasant_family"></a> +<img src="images/thor037.png" width="600" height="495" +alt="An elderly couple, seated, with a younger man and woman and a little girl" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">NORWEGIAN PEASANT FAMILY.</p> + +<p>It must not be understood, however, that I was always +favored with the society of little boys. At one of the +stations, which, for obvious reasons, it would be indiscreet +to name, there was no boy visible except the ragamuffin +who had accompanied me. He, of course, was +obliged to return with the horse and cariole. Three +white-headed old men were sitting on a log near the stable +basking in the sun, and gossiping pleasantly about +by-gone times or the affairs of state, I could not understand +which. Each of these venerable worthies wore a +red night-cap, which in this country answers likewise for +a day-cap, and smoked a massive wooden pipe. It was +a very pleasant picture of rural content. As I approached +they nodded a smiling “<i>God Aften!</i>” and rose to +unharness the horse. An elderly lady, of very neat appearance +and pleasing expression, came to the door and +bade me a kindly welcome. Then the three old men all +began to talk to me together, and when they said what +they had to say about the fine weather, and the road, and +the quality of the horse, and whatever else came into +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">[325]</a></span> +their antiquated heads, they led the horse off to the stable +and proceeded to get me a fresh one. While they +were doing that the elderly lady went back into the +house and called aloud for some person within. Presently +a fine buxom young girl, about seventeen years of +age, made her appearance at the door. I flattered myself +she wore rather a pleased expression when she saw +me; but that might have been the customary cast of her +features, or vanity on my part. At all events, there was +a glowing bloom in her cheeks, and a penetrating brilliancy +in her large blue eyes, wonderfully fascinating to +one who had not recently looked upon any thing very +attractive in the line of female loveliness. She was certainly +a model of rustic beauty—I had rarely seen her +equal in any country. Nothing could be more lithe and +graceful than her form, which was advantageously set +off by a tight bodice and a very scanty petticoat. A pair +of red woolen stockings conspicuously displayed the fine +contour of her—ankles I suppose is the conventional expression, +though I mean a great deal more than that. +As she sprang down the steps with a light and elastic +bound, and took hold of the horse, which by this time +the three old men were fumbling at to harness in the +cariole, I unconsciously thought of Diana Vernon. She +had all the daring grace and delicacy of the Scotch heroine—only +in a rustic way. Seizing the horse by the bridle, +she backed him up in a jiffy between the shafts of +the cariole, and pushing the old gray-heads aside with a +merry laugh, proceeded to arrange the harness. Having +paid the boy who had come over from the last station, +and put my name and destination in the day-book, according +to law, I refreshed myself by a glass of ale, and +then came out to see if all was ready. The girl nodded +to me smilingly to get in and be off.</p> + +<p>I looked around for the boy who was to accompany +me. Nobody in the shape of a boy was to be seen. The +three old men had returned to their log by the stable, +and now sat smoking their pipes and gossiping as usual, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">[326]</a></span> +and the good-natured old landlady stood smiling and +nodding in the doorway. Who was to take charge of +the cariole? that was the question. Was I to go alone? +Suppose I should miss the road and get lost in some awful +wilderness? However, these questions were too much +for my limited vocabulary of Norsk on the spur of the +moment. So I mounted the cariole, resolved to abide +whatever fate Providence might have in store for me. +The girl put the reins in my hand and off I started, wondering +why these good people left me to travel alone. I +thought that they would naturally feel some solicitude +about their property. Scarcely was I under way, when, +with a bound like a deer, the girl was up on the cariole +behind, hanging on to the back of the seat with both +hands. Perfectly aghast with astonishment, I pulled the +reins and stopped. “What!” I exclaimed, in the best +Norsk I could muster, “is the <i>Jomfru</i> going with me?” +“<i>Ja!</i>” answered the laughing damsel, in a merry, ringing +voice—“<i>Ja! Ja! Jeg vil vise de Veien!</i>—I will +show you the way!”</p> + +<p>Here was a predicament! A handsome young girl +going to take charge of me through a perfectly wild and +unknown country! I turned to the old lady at the door +with something of a remonstrating expression, no doubt, +for I felt confused and alarmed. How the deuce was I, +a solitary and inexperienced traveler from California, to +defend myself against such eyes, such blooming cheeks, +such honeyed lips and pearly teeth as these, to say nothing +of a form all grace and ability, a voice that was the +very essence of melody, and the fascinating smiles and +blandishments of this wild young creature! It was +enough to puzzle and confound any man of ordinary +susceptibility, much less one who had a natural terror +of the female sex. But I suppose it was all right. The +old lady nodded approvingly; and the three old men +smoked their pipes, and, touching their red night-caps, +bid me—<i>Farrel! meget god reise!</i>—a pleasant trip! So, +without more ado, I cracked the whip, and off we started. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_327" id="Page_327">[327]</a></span> +It was not my fault, that was certain. My conscience +was clear of any bad intentions.</p> + +<p>We were soon out of sight of the station, and then +came a steep hill. While the pony was pulling and tugging +with all his might, the girl bounced off, landing like +a wood-nymph about six feet in the rear of the cariole; +when, with strides that perfectly astonished me, she began +to march up the hill, singing a lively Norwegian ditty +as she sprang over the ruts and ridges of the road. I +halted in amazement. This would never do. Respect +for the gentler sex would not permit me to ride up the +hill while so lovely a creature was taking it on foot. +Governed by those high principles of gallantry, augmented +and cultivated by long residence in California, I +jumped out of the cariole, and with persuasive eloquence +begged the fair damsel to get in and drive up the hill +on my account; that I greatly preferred walking; the +exercise was congenial—I liked it. At this she looked +astonished, if not suspicious. I fancied she was not used +to that species of homage. At all events, she stoutly +declined getting in; and since it was impossible for me +to ride under the circumstances, I walked by her side to +the top of the hill. A coolness was evidently growing +up between us, for she never spoke a word all the way; +and I was too busy trying to keep the horse in the middle +of the road and save my breath to make any farther +attempts at conversation.</p> + +<p>Having at length reached the summit, the girl directed +me to take my place, which I did at once with great +alacrity. With another active bound she was up behind, +holding on as before with both hands to the back of the +seat. Then she whistled to the horse in a style he seemed +to understand perfectly well, for away he dashed down +the hill at a rate of speed that I was certain would very +soon result in utter destruction to the whole party. It +was awful to think of being pitched out and rolling down +the precipice, in the arms perhaps of this dashing young +damsel, who, being accustomed to the road, would doubtless +exert herself to save me.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_328" id="Page_328">[328]</a></span> +“<i>Nu! Reise! Reise!</i>—travel!” cried this extraordinary +girl; and away we went, over rocks, into ruts, against +roots and bushes; bouncing, springing, splashing, and +dashing through mud-holes; down hill and still down; +whirling past terrific pits, jagged pinnacles of rock, and +yawning gulfs of darkness; through gloomy patches of +pine, out again into open spaces, and along the brinks of +fearful precipices; over rickety wooden bridges, and +through foaming torrents that dashed out over the road, +the wild girl clinging fast behind, the little pony flying +along madly in front, the cariole creaking and rattling +as if going to pieces, myself hanging on to the reins in a +perfect agony of doubt whether each moment would not +be our last. I declare, on the faith of a traveler, it beat +all the dangers I had hitherto encountered summed up +together. Trees whirled by, waterfalls flashed upon my +astonished eyes, streaks of sunshine fretted the gloom +with a net-work of light that dazzled and confounded +me. I could see nothing clearly. There was a horrible +jumble in my mind of black rocks and blue eyes, pine +forests and flaming red stockings, flying clouds and flying +petticoats, the roar of torrents and the ringing voice +of the maiden as she cried “<i>Flue! Gaae! Reise!</i>—Fly! +Go it! Travel!” Only one thought was uppermost—the +fear of being dashed to pieces. Great heavens, what +a fate! If I could only stop this infernal little pony, we +might yet be saved! But I dared not attempt it. The +slightest pull at the reins would throw him upon his +haunches, and cariole and all would go spinning over him +into some horrible abyss. All this time the wild damsel +behind was getting more and more excited. Now she +whistled, now she shouted “<i>Skynde pa!</i>—Faster! faster!” +till, fairly carried away by enthusiasm, she begged +me to give her the whip, which I did, with a faint attempt +at prayer. Again she whistled, and shouted +“<i>Skynde pa!</i>—Faster! faster!” and then she cracked the +most startling and incomprehensible Norwegian melodies +with the whip, absolutely stunning my ears, while +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_329" id="Page_329">[329]</a></span> +she shouted “<i>Gaae! Flue! Reise!</i>—Go it! Fly! Travel!” +Faster and still faster we flew down the frightful +hill. The pony caught the infection of enthusiasm, and +now broke into a frantic run. “Faster! faster!” shrieked +the wild girl in a paroxysm of delight.</p> + +<p>By this time I was positively beside myself with terror. +No longer able to distinguish the flying trees, waterfalls, +and precipices, I closed my eyes and gasped for +breath. Soon the fearful bouncing of the cariole aroused +me to something like consciousness. We had struck a +rock, and were now spinning along the edge of a mighty +abyss on one wheel, the other performing a sort of balance +in the air. I looked ahead, but there was neither +shape nor meaning in the country. It was all a wild +chaos of destructive elements—trees, precipices, red +stockings, and whirling petticoats—toward which we +were madly flying.</p> + +<p>But there is an end to all troubles upon earth. With +thanks to a kind Providence, I at length caught sight of +a long stretch of level road. Although there were several +short turns to be made before reaching it, there was +still hope that it might be gained without any more serious +disaster than the breaking of a leg or an arm. Upon +such a casualty as that I should have compromised at +once. If this extraordinary creature behind would only +stop whistling and cracking the whip, and driving the +little pony crazy by her inspiring cries, I might yet succeed +in steering safely into the level road; but the nearer +we approached the bottom of the hill the wilder she +became—now actually dancing on the little board with +delight, now leaning over to get a cut at the pony’s tail +with the whip, while she whistled more fiercely than +ever, and cried out, from time to time, “<i>Flue! Gaae! +Reise!</i>” Already the poor animal was reeking with +sweat, and it was a miracle he did not drop dead on the +road.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_post_girl" id="the_post_girl"></a> +<img src="images/thor038.png" width="600" height="444" +alt="The post-girl, standing on the back ledge of the cariole, brandishes her whip" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE POST-GIRL.</p> + +<p>However, by great good fortune, aided by my skill in +driving, we made the turns, and in a few minutes more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_330" id="Page_330"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_331" id="Page_331">[331]</a></span> +were safely jogging along the level road. Almost breathless, +and quite bewildered, I instinctively turned round +to see what manner of wild being this girl behind was. +If you believe me, she was leaning over my shoulder, +shaking her sides laughing at me, her sparkling blue eyes +now all ablaze with excitement, her cheeks glowing like +peonies, her lips wide apart, displaying the most exquisite +set of teeth I ever beheld, while her long golden tresses, +bursting from the red handkerchief which served as +a sort of crowning glory to her head, floated in wavy +ringlets over her shoulders. Hermosa! it was enough +to thaw an anchorite! She was certainly very pretty—there +was no doubt of that; full of life, overflowing with +health and vitality, and delighted at the confusion and +astonishment of the strange gentleman she had taken in +charge.</p> + +<p>Can any body tell me what it is that produces such a +singular sensation when one looks over his shoulder and +discovers the face of a pretty and innocent young girl +within a few inches of his own, her beautiful eyes sparkling +like a pair of stars, and shooting magic scintillations +through and through him, body and soul, while her breath +falls like a zephyr upon his cheek? Tell me, ye who +deal in metaphysics, what is it? There is certainly a +kind of charm in it, against which no mortal man is +proof. Though naturally prejudiced against the female +sex, and firmly convinced that we could get along in the +world much better without them, I was not altogether +insensible to beauty in an artistical point of view, otherwise +I should never have been able to grace the pages +of <span class="smcap">Harper</span> with the above likeness of this Norwegian +sylph. After all, it must be admitted that they have a +way about them which makes us feel overpowered and +irresponsible in their presence. Doubtless this fair damsel +was unconscious of the damage she was inflicting +upon a wayworn and defenseless traveler. Her very +innocence was itself her chiefest charm. Either she was +the most innocent or the most designing of her sex. She +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_332" id="Page_332">[332]</a></span> +thought nothing of holding on to my shoulder, and talked +as glibly and pleasantly, with her beaming face close to +my ear, as if I had been her brother or her cousin, or +possibly her uncle, though I did not exactly like to regard +it in that point of view. What she was saying I could +not conjecture, save by her roguish expression and her +merry peals of laughter.</p> + +<p>“<i>Jag kan ikke tale Norsk!</i>—I can’t speak Norwegian”—was +all I could say, at which she laughed more +joyously than ever, and rattled off a number of excellent +jokes, no doubt at my helpless condition. Indeed, I +strongly suspected, from a familiar word here and there, +that she was making love to me out of mere sport, though +she was guarded enough not to make any intelligible +demonstration to that effect. At last I got out my vocabulary, +and as we jogged quietly along the road, by +catching a word now and then, and making her repeat +what she said very slowly, got so far as to construct +something of a conversation.</p> + +<p>“What is your name, <i>skën Jumfru</i>?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Maria,” was the answer.</p> + +<p>“A pretty name; and Maria is a very pretty girl.”</p> + +<p>She tossed her head a little scornfully, as much as to +say Maria was not to be fooled by flattery.</p> + +<p>“What is <em>your</em> name?” said Maria, after a pause.</p> + +<p>“Mine? Oh, I have forgotten mine.”</p> + +<p>“Are you an Englishman?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“A Frenchman?”</p> + +<p>“No.”</p> + +<p>“A Dutchman?”</p> + +<p>“No—I am an American.”</p> + +<p>“I like Americans—I don’t like Englishmen,” said the +girl.</p> + +<p>“Have you a lover?”</p> + +<p>“Yes.”</p> + +<p>“Are you going to be married to him?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, in about six months.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_333" id="Page_333">[333]</a></span> +“I wish you joy.”</p> + +<p>“Thank you!”</p> + +<p>At this moment a carriage drawn by two horses hove +in sight. It was an English traveling party—an old +gentleman and two ladies, evidently his wife and daughter. +As they drew near they seemed to be a little perplexed +at the singular equipage before them—a small +horse, nearly dead and lathered all over with foam; a +cariole bespattered with mud; a dashing fine girl behind, +with flaunting hair, a short petticoat, and a flaming pair +of red stockings; myself in the body of the cariole, covered +from head to foot with mire, my beard flying out +in every direction, and my hair still standing on end +from the effects of recent fright—a very singular spectacle +to meet in the middle of a public highway, even in +Norway. The road was very narrow at the point of +meeting. It became necessary for one of the vehicles to +pull up the side of the hill a little in order to allow room +for the other to pass. Being the lighter party as well +as under obligations of gallantry, I at once gave way. +While endeavoring to make a passage, the old gentleman +gruffly observed to the public generally,</p> + +<p>“What an excessively bad road!”</p> + +<p>“Very!” said I.</p> + +<p>“Beastly!” growled the Englishman.</p> + +<p>“Abominable!” said I.</p> + +<p>“Oh, you are an Englishman?” said the elderly lady.</p> + +<p>“No, madam—an American,” I answered, with great +suavity.</p> + +<p>“Oh, an American!” said the young lady, taking out +her note-book; “dear me, how very interesting!”</p> + +<p>“From California,” I added, with a smile of pride.</p> + +<p>“How very interesting!” exclaimed the young lady.</p> + +<p>“A great country,” said I.</p> + +<p>“Gray,” observed the elderly lady, in an under tone, +looking very hard at the girl, who was still standing on +the little board at the back of the cariole, and who coolly +and saucily surveyed the traveling party, “Gray, is +that a Norwegian girl?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_334" id="Page_334">[334]</a></span> +“Yes, madam; she is my postillion, only she rides behind, +according to the Norwegian custom.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” cried the young lady, “how very interesting!”</p> + +<p>“And dangerous too,” I observed.</p> + +<p>The lady looked puzzled. She was thinking +of dangers to which I had no reference.</p> + +<p>“Dangerous?” exclaimed the young lady.</p> + +<p>“Yes; she came near breaking my neck down that +hill;” and here I gave the party a brief synopsis of the +adventure.</p> + +<p>“Devilish odd!” growled the old Englishman, impatiently. +“Good-day, sir. Come, get up!”</p> + +<p>The elderly lady said nothing, but looked suspicious.</p> + +<p>“Dear me!” exclaimed the young lady, as they drove +off; “how very—” This was the last I heard, but I suppose +she considered it interesting. The whole affair, no +doubt, stands fully recorded in her note-book.</p> + +<p>The way being now clear, we proceeded on our journey. +In a little while the station-house was in sight, and +after a few minutes’ drive I was obliged to part from my +interesting companion. At first I hesitated about proffering +the usual fee of four shillings; but, upon reflection, +it occurred to me that I had no right to consider +her any thing more than a post-boy. It was worth something +extra to travel with one so lively and entertaining, +so I handed her double the usual allowance, at which she +made a very polite courtesy and greatly relieved my +embarrassment by giving a hearty shake of the hand +and wishing me a pleasant journey. This was the last +I saw of my Norwegian Diana. She is a young damsel +of great beauty and vivacity, not to say a little wild. I +trust she is now happily married to the object of her +affections.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_335" id="Page_335">[335]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI.</h2> + +<h3>HOW THEY LIVE.</h3> + + +<p>Every where on the route through the interior I found +the peasants kind, hospitable, and simple-hearted. Sometimes +I made a detour of several miles from the main +road for the purpose of catching a glimpse of the home-life +of the farmers; and, imperfect as my means of communication +were, I never had any difficulty in making +acquaintance with them after announcing myself as a +traveler from California. They had all heard, more or +less, of that wonderful land of gold, and entertained the +most vague and exaggerated notions of its mineral resources. +It was not uncommon to find men who believed +that the whole country was yellow with gold; +that such quantities of that ore abounded in it as to be +of little or no value. When I told them that the country +was very rich in the precious metals, but that every hill +was not a mass of gold, nor the bed of every river lined +with rocks and pebbles of the same material, they looked +a little incredulous, not to say disappointed. Many of +them seemed surprised that a Californian should be traveling +through a distant land like Norway merely for +amusement, and few seemed to be entirely satisfied when +I assured them, in answer to their questions, that I was +not very rich; that I was neither a merchant, nor a speculator, +nor the owner of gold mines, but simply an indifferent +artist making sketches of their country for pastime. +French, German, and English artists they could +believe in, for they saw plenty of them in the wilds of +Norway every summer; but what use would such a poor +business be in California, they said, where every man +could make a thousand dollars a day digging for gold? +I even fancied they looked at my rough and dusty +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_336" id="Page_336">[336]</a></span> +costume as if they thought it concealed a glittering uniform, +such as the rich men of my country must naturally wear +when they go abroad to visit foreign lands. It was impossible +to convince them that I was not extravagantly +wealthy. On any other point there might be room for +doubt, but the pertinacity with which they insisted upon +that afforded me much amusement; and since I could +not dispel the illusion, it generally cost me a few extra +shillings when I had any thing to pay to avoid the stigma +of meanness. Not that my extraordinary wealth ever +gave them a plea for imposition or extortion. Such an +idea never entered their heads. On the contrary, their +main purpose seemed to be to show every possible kindness +to the distinguished stranger; and more than once, +at some of the post-stations, I had to remind them of +things which they had omitted in the charge. For this +very reason I was in a measure compelled to be rather +more profuse than travelers usually are, so that the state +from which I have the honor to hail owes me a considerable +amount of money by this time for the handsome +manner in which I have sustained its reputation. At +some of the stopping-places on the road, where I obtained +lodgings for the night, it was not uncommon to find +intelligent and educated families of cultivated manners. +Education of late years has made considerable progress +in Norway; and the rising generation, owing to the +facilities afforded by the excellent school system established +throughout the country, but especially in the principal +towns, will not be in any respect behind the times, +so far as regards intellectual progress. It is the simplicity +and honesty of these good people, however, that form +their principal and most charming characteristic. To +one long accustomed to sharp dealing and unscrupulous +trickery, it is really refreshing their confidence in the integrity +of a stranger. Usually they left the settlement +of accounts to myself, merely stating that I must determine +what I owed by adding up the items according to +the tariff; and, although my knowledge of the language +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_337" id="Page_337">[337]</a></span> +was so limited, I nowhere had the slightest approach to +a dispute about the payment of expenses. On one occasion, +not wishing to forfeit this confidence, I was obliged +to ride back half a mile to pay for two cigars which I +had forgotten in making up the reckoning, and of which +the inn-keeper had not thought proper to remind me, or +had forgotten to keep any account himself. No surprise +was manifested at this conscientious act—the inn-keeper +merely nodding good-naturedly when I handed him the +money, with the remark that it was “all right.”</p> + +<p>In the districts remote from the sea-ports, the peasants, +as may well be supposed, are extremely ignorant +of the great outside world. Sweden and Denmark are +the only countries known to them besides their own +“Gamle Norge,” save such vague notions of other lands +as they pick up from occasional travelers. To them +“Amerika” is a terra incognita. A letter once or twice +a year from some emigrant to the members of his family +goes the rounds of the district, and gives them all the +knowledge they have of that distant land of promise; +and when they listen, with gaping eyes and open mouths, +to the wonderful stories of adventure, life, enterprise, and +wealth detailed by the enthusiastic rover, it is no wonder +they shake their heads and say that Christian, or +Hans, or Olé (as the case may be), “always was a capital +fellow at drawing a long bow.” They firmly believe +in ghosts and supernatural visitations of all sorts, but +are very incredulous about any country in the world +being equal to “Gamle Norge.” Naturally enough, they +consider their climate the most genial, their barren rocks +the most fertile, their government the best and most liberal +on the face of the earth, and themselves the most +highly favored of the human race. Goldsmith must have +had special reference to the Norwegians when he sang +of “that happiest spot below:”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>And why should they be otherwise than contented—if +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_338" id="Page_338">[338]</a></span> +such a thing as contentment can exist upon earth? +They have few wants and many children; a country free +from internal commotion, and too far removed from the +great scenes of European strife to excite the jealousy +of external powers; sufficient food and raiment to satisfy +the ordinary necessities of life, and no great extremes +of wealth or poverty to militate against their independence, +either in a political or social point of view. With +good laws, an excellent Constitution, and a fair representation +in the Storthing, they are justly proud of their +freedom, and deeply imbued with the spirit of patriotism.</p> + +<p>Very little of poverty or beggary is to be seen by the +wayside during a tour through Norway. Only at one +point between Kringelen and Laurgaard—a wild and +barren district exceedingly savage in its aspect, situated +in a narrow gorge of the mountains near the head of the +Logen—was I solicited for alms. A portion of this route, +after passing Sinclair’s Monument, is rudely fenced in, +so as to render available every foot of the narrow valley. +The road passes directly through the little farms, which +at this stage of the journey are poor and unproductive. +The climate is said to be very severe in this district, in +consequence of its altitude, and the sharp winds which +sweep down from the mountain gorges. At every gateway +a gang of ragged little children always stood ready +to open the gate, for which, of course, they expected a +few shillings; and as these gates occur at intervals of +every few hundred yards for some distance, it produces +a sensible effect upon one’s purse to get through. Passing +through some wretched hamlets in this vicinity, +crowds of old women hobbled out to beg alms, and I did +not get clear of the regiments of children who ran along +behind the cariole to receive the remainder of my small +change for several miles. Strange to say, this was the +only place during my rambles through the interior in +which I saw any thing like beggary. Generally speaking, +the farming lands are sufficiently productive to supply +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_339" id="Page_339">[339]</a></span> +all the wants of the peasants, and many of the farmers +are even comfortably situated.</p> + +<p>The houses in which these country people reside are +not altogether unlike the small log cabins of the early +settlers on our Western frontier. I have seen many such +on the borders of Missouri and Kansas. Built in the +most primitive style of pine logs, they stand upon stumps +or columns of stone, elevated some two or three feet from +the ground, in order to allow a draft of air underneath, +which in this humid climate is considered necessary for +health. They seldom consist of more than two or three +rooms, but make up in number what they lack in size. +Thus a single farming establishment often comprises +some ten or a dozen little cabins, besides the large barn, +which is the nucleus around which they all centre; with +smaller cribs for pigs, chickens, etc., and here and there +a shed for the cows and sheep, all huddled together +among the rocks or on some open hill-side, without the +least apparent regard to direction or architectural effect. +The roofs are covered with sod, upon which it is not uncommon +to see patches of oats, weeds, moss, flowers, or +whatever comes most convenient to form roots and give +consistency and strength to this singular overtopping. +The object, I suppose, is to prevent the transmission of +heat during the severe season of winter. Approaching +some of these hamlets or farming establishments during +the summer months, the traveler is frequently at a loss +to distinguish their green-sodded roofs from the natural +sod of the hill-sides, so that one is liable at any time to +plunge into the midst of a settlement before he is aware +of its existence. Something of a damp, earthy look about +them, the weedy or grass-covered tops, the logs green +and moss-grown, the dripping eaves, the veins of water +oozing out of the rocks, give them a peculiarly Northern +and chilling effect, and fill the mind with visions of long +and dreary winters, rheumatisms, colds, coughs, and consumptions, +to which it is said these people are subject. +Nothing so wild and primitive is to be seen in any other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_340" id="Page_340">[340]</a></span> +part of Europe. A silence almost death-like hangs over +these little hamlets during a great part of the day, when +the inhabitants are out in the hills attending their flocks +or cultivating their small patches of ground. I passed +many groups of cabins without seeing the first sign of +life, save now and then a few chickens or pigs rooting +about the barn-yard. The constant impression was that +it was Sunday, or at least a holiday, and that the people +were either at church or asleep. For one who seeks retirement +from the busy haunts of life, where he can indulge +in uninterrupted reflection, I know of no country +that can equal Norway. There are places in the interior +where I am sure he would be astonished at the sound of +his own voice. The deserts of Africa can scarcely present +a scene of such utter isolation. With a rod in his +hand, he can, if given to the gentle art, sit and dream +upon some mossy bank,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“In close covert by some brook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where no profaner eye may look,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hide him from day’s garish noon.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Thus you often come upon an English sportsman waiting +for a nibble.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 260px;"> +<a name="waiting_for_a_nibble" id="waiting_for_a_nibble"></a> +<img src="images/thor039.png" width="260" height="400" +alt="A portly man, fishing rod in hand, dozes on the river bank" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">WAITING FOR A NIBBLE.</p> + +<p>The food of the peasants consists principally of black +bread, milk, butter, and cheese. Meat is too expensive +for very general use, though at certain seasons of the year +they indulge in it once or twice a week. Coffee is a luxury +to which they are much addicted. Even the poorest +classes strain a point to indulge in this favorite narcotic, +and in no part of Norway did I fail to get a good cup +of coffee. It is a very curious fact that the best coffee +to be had at the most fashionable hotels on the Continent +of Europe—always excepting Paris—is inferior to +that furnished to the traveler at the commonest station-house +in Norway. This is indeed one of the luxuries of +a tour through this part of Scandinavia. The cream is +rich and pure, and it is a rare treat to get a large bowlful +of it for breakfast, with as much milk as you please, +and no limit to bread and butter. Your appetite is not +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_341" id="Page_341">[341]</a></span> +measured by infinitesimal bits and scraps as in Germany. +A good wholesome meal is spread before you in the genuine +backwoods style, and you may eat as much as you +please, which is a rare luxury to one who has been stinted +and starved at the hotels on the Continent. I remember, +at one station beyond the Dovre Fjeld, Bennett’s +Hand-book says, “Few rooms, but food supplied in first-rate +style when Miss Marit is at home. She will be much +offended if you do not prove that you have a good appetite.” +On my arrival at this place, not wishing to offend +Miss Marit—for whom I entertained the highest respect +in consequence of her hospitable reputation—I called for +every thing I could think of, and when it was placed +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_342" id="Page_342">[342]</a></span> +upon the table by that accomplished young lady (a very +pleasant, pretty young woman, by-the-way), fell to work +and made it vanish at a most astonishing rate. Miss +Marit stood by approvingly. During a pause in my +heavy labors I called the attention of this estimable person +to her own name in the printed pamphlet, at which +she blushed and looked somewhat confused. Possibly +there might be a mistake about it.</p> + +<p>“Your name is Miss Marit?” I asked, very politely.</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>“And this is Miss Marit in print?”</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>She took the book and tried to read it.</p> + +<p>“Nikka Forstoe!”—she didn’t understand.</p> + +<p>“What does it say?” she asked, rather gravely.</p> + +<p>Here was a job—to translate the paragraph into Norwegian! +Besides, it would not do to translate it literally, +so I made a sort of impromptu paraphrase upon it.</p> + +<p>“Oh! it says Miss Marit is a very pretty young lady.”</p> + +<p>“Ja!”—blushing and looking somewhat astonished.</p> + +<p>“And Miss Marit is a very nice housekeeper.”</p> + +<p>“Ja.”</p> + +<p>“And Miss Marit makes splendid coffee, and thoroughly +understands how to cook a beefsteak.”</p> + +<p>“Ja!”</p> + +<p>“And Miss Marit would make a most excellent wife +for any young gentleman who could succeed in winning +her affections!”</p> + +<p>“Nei!” said the young lady, blushing again, and looking +more astonished than ever.</p> + +<p>“Ja,” said I, “it is all in print”—adding, with an internal +reservation, “or ought to be.”</p> + +<p>Who can blame me for paying tribute to Miss Marit’s +kindness and hospitality? She is certainly deserving +of much higher praise than that bestowed upon her, and +I hope Mr. Bennett will pardon me for the liberal style +of my translation. If he didn’t mean all I said, let the +responsibility rest upon me, for I certainly meant every +word of it.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_343" id="Page_343">[343]</a></span> +The farming districts are limited chiefly to the valleys +along the river-courses, and such portions of arable lands +as lie along the shores of the Fjords. A large proportion +of the country is extremely wild and rugged, and +covered, for the most part, with dense pine forests. The +peasants generally own their own farms, which are small, +and cut up into patches of pasture, grain-lands, and tracts +of forest. Even the most unpromising nooks among the +rocks, in many parts of the Gudbransdalen Valley, where +plows are wholly unavailable, are rooted up by means of +hoes, and planted with oats and other grain. I sometimes +saw as many as forty or fifty of these little arable +patches perched up among the rocks, hundreds of feet +above the roofs of the houses, where it would seem dangerous +for goats to browse. The log cabins peep out +from among the rocks and pine-clad cliffs all along the +course of the Logen, giving the country a singular speckled +appearance. This, it must be remembered, is one of +the best districts in the interior. The richest agricultural +region is said to be that bordering on the shores of +the Miösen. One of the comforts enjoyed by the peasants, +and without which it would scarcely be possible for +them to exist in such a rigorous climate, consists in the +unlimited quantity of fuel to which they have such easy +access. This is an inconceivable luxury during the long +winter months; and their large open fireplaces and blazing +fires, even in the cool summer evenings, constantly +remind one of the homes of the settlers in the Far West. +When the roads are covered with snow the true season +of internal communication commences. Then the means +of transportation and travel are greatly facilitated, and +the clumsy wagons used in summer are put aside for the +lighter and more convenient sledges with which every +farmer is abundantly provided. All along the route the +snow-plows may be seen turned up against the rocks, +ready to be used during the winter to clear and level the +roads. In summer the means of transportation are little +better than those existing between Placerville and Carson +Valley.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_344" id="Page_344">[344]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> +<a name="snow_plow" id="snow_plow"></a> +<img src="images/thor040.png" width="250" height="400" +alt="A man with a scythe looks at the propped up snow-plow" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SNOW-PLOW.</p> + +<p>It was during the height of the harvesting season that +I passed through the Gudbransdalen. One of the most +characteristic sights at this time of the year is the extraordinary +amount of labor imposed upon the women, +who seem really to do most of the heavy work. I thought +I had seen the last of that in the Thuringenwald, Odenwald, +and Schwartzwald, while on a foot-tour through +Germany; but even the Germans are not so far advanced +in civilization in this respect as the Norwegians, who do +not hesitate to make their women cut wood, haul logs, +pull carts, row boats, fish, and perform various other kinds +of labor usually allotted to the stronger sex, which even +a German would consider rather heavy for his “frow.” +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_345" id="Page_345">[345]</a></span> +The men, in addition to this ungallant trait, are much +addicted to the use of tobacco and native corn-brandy—which, +however, I can not but regard as a sign of civilization, +since the same habits exist, to some extent, in our own +country. Chewing and drinking are just as common as in +California, the most enlightened country in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_346" id="Page_346">[346]</a></span> +world. Wherever I saw a set of drunken fellows roaring +and rollicking at some wayside inn, their faces smeared +with tobacco, and their eyes rolling in their heads, I +naturally felt drawn toward them by the great free-masonry +of familiar customs.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<a name="a_drinking_bout" id="a_drinking_bout"></a> +<img src="images/thor041.png" width="386" height="500" +alt="Five men around a tavern table" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A DRINKING BOUT.</p> + +<p>The system of farming followed by the peasants is exceedingly +primitive, though doubtless well adapted to the +climate and soil. Nothing can be more striking to a +stranger than the odd shapes of the wagons and carts, +and the rudeness of the agricultural implements, which +must be patterned upon those in vogue during the time +of Odin, the founder of the Norwegian race. Owing to +the humidity of the climate, it is necessary in harvest +time to dry the hay and grain by staking it out in the +fields on long poles, so that the sun and air may penetrate +every part of it. The appearance of a farm is thus +rendered unique as well as picturesque. In the long twilight +nights of summer these ghostly stokes present the +appearance of a gang of heathenish spirits standing about +in the fields, with their long beards waving in the air, +and their dusky robes trailing over the stubbles. The +figures thus seen at every turn of the road often assume +the most striking spectral forms, well calculated to augment +those wild superstitions which prevail throughout +the country. It was impossible for me ever to get quite +rid of the idea that they were descendants of the old +Scandinavian gods, holding counsel over the affairs of +the nation, especially when some passing breeze caused +their arms and robes to flutter in the twilight, and their +heads to swing to and fro, as if in the enthusiasm of +their ghostly deliberations.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="a_norwegian_farm" id="a_norwegian_farm"></a> +<img src="images/thor042.png" width="600" height="472" +alt="A group of small log buildings on a hillside" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A NORWEGIAN FARM.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px;"> +<a name="norwegian_church" id="norwegian_church"></a> +<img src="images/thor043.png" width="385" height="500" +alt="A few people gather outside the wooden church with the tall narrow spire" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">NORWEGIAN CHURCH.</p> + +<p>Mingled with the wild superstitions of the people their +piety is a prominent trait. Their prevailing religion is +Episcopal Lutheran, though Catholicism and other religions +are tolerated by an act of the Storthing, with the +exception of Mormonism, which is prohibited by law. A +considerable number of proselytes to that sect have emigrated +to Salt Lake. This prevailing spirit of piety +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_347" id="Page_347"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_348" id="Page_348">[348]</a></span> +is observable even in the wildest parts of the country, +where every little hamlet has its church, and neither old +nor young neglect their religious services. Most of these +churches are built of wood, with a steeple of the same +material, shingled over and painted black, so as to present +the most striking contrast to the snows which cover +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_349" id="Page_349">[349]</a></span> +the face of the country during the greater part of the +year.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 259px;"> +<a name="parish_schoolmaster" id="parish_schoolmaster"></a> +<img src="images/thor044.png" width="259" height="400" +alt="The schoolmaster usesd a cane to punish a boy" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PARISH SCHOOLMASTER.</p> + +<p>The parish schoolmaster is a most important personage +in these rural districts. He it is who trains up the +rising generation, teaches the young idea how to shoot, +and</p> + +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>“Out of great things and small draweth the secrets of the universe.”</p> +</div> + +<p>He is greatly revered by the simple-minded old farmers, +is cherished and respected by the mothers of families, +enthusiastically admired and generally aspired to by the +village belles, and held in profound awe by all the little +urchins of the neighborhood. He speaketh unknown +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_350" id="Page_350">[350]</a></span> +tongues; he diveth into the depths of abstruse sciences; +he talketh with the air of one burdened with much learning; +he “argueth the cycles of the stars from a pebble +flung by a child;” he likewise teacheth reading, writing, +and arithmetic, and applieth the rod to the juvenile seat +of understanding, as shown on the preceding page.</p> + +<p>Soon after leaving Storkterstad, a station about two +days’ journey from Lillehammer, on the main road to +Trondhjem, I passed through a very steep and rugged +defile in the mountains, with jagged rocks on the right +and the foaming waters of the Logen on the left, where +my attention was called by the skydskaarl to a small +monument by the roadside hearing an inscription commemorative +of the death of Colonel Sinclair. If I remember +correctly, a fine description is given of this celebrated +passage by Mögge, whose graphic sketches of +Norwegian scenery I had frequent occasion to admire, +during my tour, for their beauty and accuracy. I fully +agree with my friend Bayard Taylor, that the traveler +can find no better guide to the Fjelds and Fjords of this +wild country than “Afraja” and “Life and Love in Norway.” +Laing has also given an interesting account of +the massacre of Colonel Sinclair’s party. From his version +of this famous incident in Norwegian history it appears +that, during the war between Christian the Fourth +of Denmark and Gustavus Adolphus of Sweden, while +the Danes held the western coast of Norway, Colonel +Sinclair, a Scotchman, desiring to render assistance to +the Swedes, landed at Romsdalen, on the coast, with a +party of nine hundred followers. Another detachment +of his forces landed at Trondhjem. It was their intention +to fight their way across the mountains and join the +Swedish forces on the frontier. Sinclair’s party met with +no resistance till they arrived at the pass of Kringelen, +where three hundred peasants, hearing of their approach, +had prepared an ambush. Every thing was arranged +with the utmost secrecy. An abrupt mountain on the +right, abounding in immense masses of loose rock, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_351" id="Page_351">[351]</a></span> +furnished the means of a terrible revenge for the ravages +committed by the Scotch on their march from Romsdalen. +The road winds around the foot of this mountain, +making a narrow pass, hemmed in by the roaring torrents +of the Logen on the one side and abrupt cliffs on +the other. Across the river, which here dashes with +frightful rapidity through the narrow gorge of the +mountains, the country wears an exceedingly weird and +desolate aspect; the ravines and summits of the mountains +are darkened by gloomy forests of pine, relieved +only by hoary and moss-covered cliffs overhanging the +rushing waters of the Logen. On the precipitous slopes +of the pass, hundreds of feet above the road, the peasants +gathered enormous masses of rock, logs of wood, and +even trunks of trees, which they fixed in such a way that, +at a moment’s notice, they could precipitate the whole +terrible avalanche upon the heads of the enemy.</p> + +<p>Such was the secrecy with which the peasants managed +the whole affair, that the Scotch, ignorant even of +the existence of a foe, marched along in imaginary security +till they reached the middle of the narrow pass, +when they were suddenly overwhelmed and crushed beneath +the masses of rocks and loose timbers launched +upon them by the Norwegians. Rushing from their +ambush, the infuriated peasants soon slaughtered the +maimed and wounded, leaving, according to some authorities, +only two of the enemy to tell the tale. Others, +however, say that as many as sixty escaped, but were +afterward caught and massacred. Attached to this fearful +story of retribution, Laing mentions a romantic incident, +which is still currently told in the neighborhood. +A young peasant was prevented from joining in the attack +by his sweet-heart, to whom he was to be married +the next day. She, learning that the wife of Colonel Sinclair +was among the party, sent her lover to offer his assistance; +but the Scotch lady, mistaking his purpose, shot +him dead. Such is the tragic history that casts over this +wild region a mingled interest of horror and romance.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_352" id="Page_352">[352]</a></span> +The road from Laurgaard beyond the pass of the +Kringelen ascends a high mountain. On the right is a +series of foaming cataracts, and nothing can surpass the +rugged grandeur of the view as you reach the highest +eminence before descending toward Braendhagen. Here +the country is one vast wilderness of pine-clad mountains, +green winding valleys, and raging torrents of water +dashing down over the jagged rocks thousands of feet +below. It was nearly night when I reached Dombaas, +the last station before ascending the Dovre Fjeld.</p> + +<p>A telegraphic station at Dombaas gives something of +a civilized aspect to this stopping-place, otherwise rather +a primitive-looking establishment. The people, however, +are very kind and hospitable, and somewhat noted for +their skill in carving bone and wooden knife-handles. I +should have mentioned that, wild as this part of the +country is, the traveler is constantly reminded by the +telegraphic poles all along the route that he is never +quite beyond the limits of civilization. Such is the force +of habit that I was strongly tempted to send a message +to somebody from Dombaas; but, upon turning the matter +over in my mind, could think of nobody within the +limits of Norway who felt sufficient interest in my explorations +to be likely to derive much satisfaction from +the announcement that I had reached the edge of the +Dovre Fjeld in safety. The name of a waiter who was +good enough to black my boots at the Victoria Hotel +occurred to me, but it was hardly possible he would appreciate +a telegraphic dispatch from one who had no +more pressing claims to his attention. I thought of sending +a few lines of remembrance to the Wild Girl who +had come so near breaking my neck. This notion, however, +I gave over upon reflecting that she might attach +undue weight to my expressions of friendship, and possibly +take it into her head that I was making love to her—than +which nothing could be farther from my intention. +I had a social chat with the telegraph-man, however—a +very respectable and intelligent person—who +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_353" id="Page_353"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_354" id="Page_354">[354]</a></span> +gave me the latest news; and with this, and good supper +and bed, I was obliged to rest content.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="dovre_fjeld" id="dovre_fjeld"></a> +<img src="images/thor045.png" width="600" height="454" +alt="A road winds past a group of houses and on into Dovre Fjeld" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DOVRE FJELD.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII.</h2> + +<h3>JOHN BULL ABROAD.</h3> + + +<p>Leaving Dombaas at an early hour, I soon began to +ascend a long slope, reaching, by a gradual elevation, to +the Dovre Fjeld. The vegetation began to grow more +and more scanty on the wayside, consisting mostly of +lichens and reindeer moss. I passed through some stunted +groves of pine, which, however, were bleached and +almost destitute of foliage. The ground on either side +of the road was soft, black, and boggy, abounding in +springs and scarcely susceptible of cultivation. At this +elevation grain is rarely planted, though I was told potatoes +and other esculents are not difficult to raise. On +the left of the road, approaching the summit, lies a range +of snow-capped mountains between the Dovre Fjeld and +Molde; on the right a series of rocky and barren hills +of sweeping outline, presenting an exceedingly desolate +aspect. In the course of an hour after leaving Dombaas, +having walked most of the way, I fairly reached the +grand plateau of the Dovre Fjeld. The scene at this +point of the journey is inexpressibly desolate.</p> + +<p>Bare, whitish-colored hills bound the horizon on the +right; in front is a dreary waste, through which the road +winds like a thread till lost in the dim haze of the distance; +and to the left the everlasting snows of Snaehatten. +A few wretched cabins are scattered at remote intervals +over the desert plains, in which the shepherds +seek shelter from the inclemency of the weather, which +even in midsummer is often piercingly raw. Herds of +rattle, sheep, and goats were grazing over the rocky +wastes of the Fjeld. Reindeer are sometimes seen in +this vicinity, but not often within sight of the road. The +only vegetation produced here is reindeer moss, and a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_355" id="Page_355">[355]</a></span> +coarse sort of grass growing in bunches over the plain. +I met several shepherds on the way dressed in something +like a characteristic costume—frieze jackets with brass +buttons, black knee-breeches, a red night-cap, and armed +with the usual staff or shepherd’s crook, represented in +pictures, and much discoursed of by poets:</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i3">“Methinks it were a happy life<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To be no better than a homely swain;”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>but not on the Dovre Fjelds of Norway. It must be +rather a dull business in that region, taking into consideration +the barren plains, the bleak winds, and desolate +aspect of the country. No sweet hawthorn bushes are +there, beneath which these rustic philosophers can sit,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Looking on their silly sheep.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>Shepherd life must be a very dismal reality indeed. And +yet there is no accounting for tastes. At one point of +the road, beyond Folkstuen, where a sluggish lagoon +mingles its waters with the barren slopes of the Fjeld, I +saw an Englishman standing up to his knees in a dismal +marsh fishing for trout.</p> + +<p>The weather was cold enough to strike a chill into +one’s very marrow; yet this indefatigable sportsman +had come more than a thousand miles from his native +country to enjoy himself in this way. He was a genuine +specimen of an English snob—self-sufficient, conceited, +and unsociable; looking neither to the right nor the +left, and terribly determined not to commit himself by +making acquaintance with casual travelers speaking the +English tongue. I stopped my cariole within a few paces +and asked him “what luck?” One would think the +sound of his native tongue would have been refreshing +to him in this dreary wilderness; but, without deigning +to raise his head, he merely answered in a gruff tone, +“Don’t know, sir—don’t know!” I certainly did not suspect +him of knowing much, but thought that question at +least would not be beyond the limits of his intelligence. +Finding him insensible to the approaches of humanity, +I revenged myself for his rudeness by making a sketch +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_356" id="Page_356">[356]</a></span> +of his person, which I hope will be recognized by his +friends in England should he meet with any misfortune +in the wilds of Norway. They will at least know where +to search for his body, and be enabled to recognize it +when they find it. This man’s sense of enjoyment reminded +me of the anecdote told by Longfellow in Hyperion, +of an Englishman who sat in a tub of cold water every +morning while he ate his breakfast and read the newspapers.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 261px;"> +<a name="playing_him_out" id="playing_him_out"></a> +<img src="images/thor046.png" width="261" height="400" +alt="A portly man stands up to his knees in water, fishing line wrapped round him" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PLAYING HIM OUT.</p> + +<p>I met with many such in the course of my tour. Is +it not a little marvelous what hardships people will encounter +for pleasure? Here was a man of mature age, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_357" id="Page_357">[357]</a></span> +in the enjoyment perhaps of a comfortable income, who +had left his country, with all its attractions, for a dreary +desert in which he was utterly isolated from the world. +He was not traveling—not reading, not surrounded by +a few congenial friends who could make a brief exile +pleasant, but utterly alone; ignorant, no doubt, of the +language spoken by the few shepherds in the neighborhood; +up to his knees in a pool of cold water; stubbornly +striving against the most adverse circumstances of +wind and weather to torture out of the water a few miserable +little fish! Of what material can such a man’s +brain be composed, if he be gifted with brain at all? Is +it mud, clay, or water; or is it all a bog? Possibly he +was a lover of nature; but if you examine his portrait +you will perceive that there is nothing in his personal +appearance to warrant that suspicion. Even if such were +the case, this was not the charming region described by +the quaint old Walton, where the scholar can turn aside +“toward the high honeysuckle hedge,” or “sit and sing +while the shower falls upon the teeming earth, viewing +the silver streams glide silently toward their centre, the +tempestuous sea,” beguiled by the harmless lambs till, +with a soul possessed with content, he feels “lifted above +the earth.” Nor was the solitary angler of the Dovre +Fjeld a man likely to be lifted from the earth by any +thing so fragile as the beauties of nature. His weight—sixteen +stone at least—would be much more likely to +sink him into it.</p> + +<p>As I approached the neighborhood of Djerkin on the +Dovre Fjeld, famous as a central station for hunting expeditions, +I met several English sportsmen armed with +rifles, double-barreled guns, pistols, and other deadly +weapons, on their way to the defiles of the adjacent +mountains in search of the black bears which are said +to infest that region. One of these enthusiastic gentlemen +was seated in a cariole, and traveled for some distance +in front of me. Taking into view the rotundity +of his person, which overhung the little vehicle on every +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_358" id="Page_358">[358]</a></span> +side, I could not but picture to myself the extraordinary +spectacle that would be presented to any observant eye +in case this ponderous individual should suddenly come +in contact with one of those ferocious animals.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 253px;"> +<a name="english_sportsman" id="english_sportsman"></a> +<img src="images/thor047.png" width="253" height="400" +alt="A cariole, seen from the back, driven by a portly man, with a small boy hanging on behind" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ENGLISH SPORTSMAN.</p> + +<p>Here you have him, just as he sat before me—a back +view, to be sure, but the only one I could get in the emergency +of the moment. It will be easy to imagine, from +the dexterous grace of his figure, how he will bound over +the rocks, climb up the rugged points of the precipices, +hang by the roots and branches of trees, dodge the attacks +of the enemy, crawl through the brush, and, in the +event of an unfavorable turn in the battle, retreat to some +position of security.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_359" id="Page_359">[359]</a></span> +No man can be blamed for running when he is sure to +be worsted in an encounter of this kind. Many a brave +Californian has taken to his heels when pursued by a +grizzly, and I have scarcely a doubt that I would pursue +the same course myself under similar circumstances. +Only it must look a little ludicrous to see a fat Englishman, +a representative of the British Lion, forced to adopt +this mortifying alternative rather than suffer himself to +be torn into beefsteaks. It may be, however, that in +this instance our Nimrod has suddenly discovered that +it is about dinner-time, and is hurrying back to camp lest +the beef should be overdone.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="bear_chase" id="bear_chase"></a> +<img src="images/thor048.png" width="400" height="256" +alt="A portly man trying to run from a bear, which grips his jacket in its teeth" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">BEAR CHASE.</p> + +<p>These bear-hunting Englishmen take care to have as +many chances on their own side as possible. Hence they +usually go into the mountains well provided with guides, +ammunition, provisions, etc., and prepare the way by first +securing the bear in some favored locality. This is done +by killing a calf or hog, and placing the carcass in the +required position. A hired attendant lies in wait until +he discovers the bear, when he comes down to the station +or camp, and notifies the hunter that it is time to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_360" id="Page_360">[360]</a></span> +start out. Thus the risk of life is greatly reduced, and +the prospect of securing some game proportionally augmented. +The black bears of Norway are not very dangerous, +however, and, hunted in this manner, it requires +no great skill to kill them. They are generally to be +found in the higher mountains and defiles, a few miles +from some farming settlement. In winter, when their +customary food is scarce, they often commit serious depredations +upon the stock of the farmers. Every facility +is freely afforded by the peasants for their destruction, +and every bear killed is considered so many cattle saved.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 260px;"> +<a name="peasant_women_at_work" id="peasant_women_at_work"></a> +<img src="images/thor049.png" width="260" height="400" +alt="Four women at work in a field; one carries a long-handled shovel" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PEASANT WOMEN AT WORK.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon when I descended a rocky +and pine-covered hill, and came in sight of the station +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_361" id="Page_361">[361]</a></span> +called Djerkin, celebrated as one of the best in the interior +of Norway. This place is kept by an old Norwegian +peasant family of considerable wealth, and is a favorite +resort of English sportsmen bound on fishing and +hunting excursions throughout the wilds of the Dovre +Fjeld. The main buildings and outhouses are numerous +and substantial, and stand on the slope of the hill which +forms the highest point of the Fjeld on the road from +Christiania to Trondhjem. The appearance of this isolated +group of buildings on the broad and barren face of +the hill had much in it to remind me of some of the old +missionary establishments in California; and the resemblance +was increased by the scattered herds of cattle +browsing upon the parched and barren slopes of the +Fjeld, which in this vicinity are as much like the old +ranch lands of San Diego County as one region of country +wholly different in climate can be like another. A +few cultivated patches of ground near the station, upon +which the peasants were at work gathering in the scanty +harvest, showed that even in this rigorous region the attempts +at agriculture were not altogether unsuccessful. +As usual, the principal burden of labor seemed to fall +upon the women, who were digging, hoeing, and raking +with a lusty will that would have done credit to the men.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII.</h2> + +<h3>WOMEN IN NORWAY AND GERMANY.</h3> + + +<p>I must say that of all the customs prevailing in the +different parts of Europe, not excepting the most civilized +states of Germany, this one of making the women do +all the heavy work strikes me as the nearest approximation +to the perfection of domestic discipline. The Diggers +of California and the Kaffres of Africa understand +this thing exactly, and no man of any spirit belonging +to those tribes would any more think of performing the +drudgery which he imposes upon his wife and daughters +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_362" id="Page_362">[362]</a></span> +than a German or Norwegian. What is the use of +having wives and children if they don’t relieve us of our +heavy work? In that respect we Americans are very +much behind the times. We pay such absurd devotion +to the weakness of woman that they rule us with a despotism +unknown in any other country. Their smiles are +threats, and their tears are despotic manifestoes, against +which the bravest of us dare not rebel. It is absolutely +horrible to think of the condition of servitude in which +we are placed by the extraordinary powers vested in, and +so relentlessly exercised by, the women of America. I, +for one, am in favor of a revival of the old laws of Nuremberg, +by which female tyranny was punished. By a +decree of the famous Council of Eight, any woman convicted +of beating her husband or otherwise maltreating +him was forced to wear a dragon’s head for the period +of three days; and if she did not, at the expiration of +that date, ask his pardon, she was compelled to undergo +a regimen of bread and water for the space of three +weeks, or until effectually reduced to submission. Something +must be done, or we shall be compelled sooner or +later to adopt a clause in the Constitution prohibiting +from admission the State of Matrimony. What would +the ladies do then? I think that would bring them to +their senses.</p> + +<p>Not only in the matter of domestic discipline, but of +business and pleasure, are the people of Europe infinitely +ahead of us. In France many of the railway stations +are attended by female clerks, and in Germany the beer-saloons +are ornamented by pretty girls, who carry around +the foaming schoppens, having a spare smile and a joke +for every customer. Of opera-singers, dancers, and female +fiddlers, the most famous are produced in Europe. +The wheeling girls of Hamburg, who roll after the omnibuses +in circus fashion, are the only specimens in the +line of popular attractions that I have not yet seen in the +streets or public resorts of New York.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 263px;"> +<a name="wheeling_girls" id="wheeling_girls"></a> +<img src="images/thor050.png" width="263" height="400" +alt="Two girls perform handstands as a coach passes by" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">WHEELING GIRLS.</p> + +<p>What would be thought of half a dozen of these street +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_363" id="Page_363">[363]</a></span> +acrobats rolling down Broadway or the Fifth Avenue? +Doubtless they would attract considerable attention, and +probably turn many a good penny. I fancy the Bowery +boys would enjoy this sort of thing. A pretty girl of +sixteen or seventeen, with her crinoline securely bundled +up between her ankles, wheeling merrily along after an +omnibus at the rate of five miles an hour, would be an +attractive as well as extraordinary spectacle. For my +part, I would greatly prefer it to our best female lectures +on phrenology or physiology. I think a girl who can +roll in that way must be possessed of uncommon genius. +The wheeling boys of London are but clumsy spectacle +compared with this. No man of sensibility can witness +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_364" id="Page_364">[364]</a></span> +such a sight without regarding it as the very poetry of +motion.</p> + +<p>But this digression has led me a little out of the way. +I was on the road to Djerkin. A sharp pull of half a +mile up the hill brought me to the door of the station, +where I was kindly greeted by the family. Descending +from my cariole a little stiff after the last long stage, I +entered the general sitting-room, where there was a goodly +assemblage of customers smoking and drinking, and +otherwise enjoying themselves. The landlady, however, +would not permit me to stop in such rude quarters, but +hurried me at once into the fine room of the establishment. +While she was preparing a venison steak and +some coffee, I took a survey of the room, which was certainly +ornamented in a very artistical manner. The sofa +was covered with little scraps of white net-work; the +bureau was dotted all over with little angels made of +gauze, highly-colored pin-cushions, and fanciful paper +boxes and card-stands. The walls were decorated with +paintings of cows, stags, rocks, waterfalls, and other animals, +and gems of Norwegian scenery, the productions +of the genius of the family—the oldest son, a Justice of +the Peace for the District, now absent on business at +Christiania. They were very tolerably executed. The +old lady was so proud of them that she took care to call +my attention to their merits immediately upon entering +the room, informing me, with much warmth of manner, +that her son was a highly respectable man, of wonderful +talents, who had held the honorable position of Justice +of the Peace for the past ten years, and that there was +something in my face that reminded her of her dear boy. +In fact, she thought our features bore a striking resemblance—only +Hansen had rather a more melancholy expression, +his wife having unfortunately died about three +years ago (here the poor old lady heaved a profound +sigh). But I could judge for myself. There was his +portrait, painted by a German artist who spent some +months at this place last summer. I looked at the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_365" id="Page_365">[365]</a></span> +portrait with some curiosity. It was that of a man about +forty years of age, with a black skull-cap on his head, a +long queue behind, and a pair of spectacles on his nose—his +face very thin and of a cadaverous expression; +just such a man as you would expect to find upon a justice’s +bench of a country district in Norway. Was it +possible I bore any resemblance to this learned man? +The very idea was so startling, not to say flattering, that +I could hardly preserve my composure. I mumbled over +something to the effect that it was a good face—for scenic +purposes; but every time I tried to acknowledge the +likeness to myself the words stuck in my throat. Finally, +I was forced to ask the landlady if she would be so +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_366" id="Page_366">[366]</a></span> +kind as to bring me a glass of brandy-wine, for I was +afraid she would discover the internal convulsions which +threatened every moment to rend my ribs asunder. +While she was looking after the brandy-wine I made a +hasty copy of the portrait, and I now leave it to the impartial +reader to decide upon the supposed resemblance. +It may be like me, but I confess the fact never would +have impressed itself upon my mind from any personal +observation of my own countenance taken in front of a +looking-glass.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 258px;"> +<a name="justice_of_the_peace" id="justice_of_the_peace"></a> +<img src="images/thor051.png" width="258" height="400" +alt="A portrait in profile of the Justice holding a book" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">JUSTICE OF THE PEACE.</p> + +<p>There was something so genial and cozy about the inn +at Djerkin that I partially resolved to stop all night. At +dinner-time the landlord made his appearance steaming +hot from the kitchen. I no longer hesitated about staying. +I am a great believer in the physiognomy of inns +as well as of landlords. Traveling through a wild country +like Norway, where there is little beyond the scenery +to attract attention, the unpretending stations by the +wayside assume a degree of importance equaled only by +the largest cities in other countries. The approach, the +aspect of the place, the physiognomy of the house, become +matters of the deepest interest to the solitary wayfarer, +who clings to these episodes in the day’s journey +as the connecting links that bind him to the great family +of man. I claim to be able to tell from the general expression +of an inn, commencing at the chimney-top and +ending at the steps of the front door, exactly what sort +of cheer is to be had within—whether the family are +happily bound together in bonds of affection; how often +the landlord indulges in a bout of hard drinking; and +the state of control under which he is kept by the female +head of the establishment; nay, I can almost guess, from +the general aspect of the house, the exact weight and digestive +capacity of mine host; for if the inn promise well +for the creature comforts, so will the inn-keeper. And +what can be more cheering to a tired wayfarer than to +be met at the door by a jolly red-faced old fellow—</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“His fair round belly with fat capon lined”—<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_367" id="Page_367">[367]</a></span> +beefsteaks in the expression of his eye; his bald pate the +fac-simile of a rump of mutton; plum-puddings and apple-dumplings +in every curve of his chin; his body the +living embodiment of a cask of beer supported by two +pipes of generous wine; the whole man overflowing with +rich juices and essences, gravies, and strong drinks—a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_368" id="Page_368">[368]</a></span> +breathing incarnation of all the good things of life, whom +to look upon is to feel good-natured and happy in the +present, and hopeful for the future; such a man, in short, +as mine host of the Golden Crown, whose portrait I have +endeavored to present.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 252px;"> +<a name="model_landlord" id="model_landlord"></a> +<img src="images/thor052.png" width="252" height="500" +alt="The landlord carries a plate piled high with food" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">MODEL LANDLORD.</p> + +<p>If there be any likeness between myself and the son, +it certainly does not extend to the father. He carries +in his hands a steaming hot plum-pudding; he is a model +landlord, and delights in feeding his customers. His +voice is greasy like his face. When he laughs it is from +his capacious stomach the sounds come. His best jokes +are based upon his digestive organs. He gets a little +boozy toward evening, but that is merely a hospitable +habit of his to prove that his liquors are good. You commit +yourself at once to his keeping with a delightful consciousness +that in his hands you are safe. He is not a +man to suffer an honest customer to starve. Nature, in +her prodigality, formed him upon a generous pattern. +Whatever does other people good likewise does him +good. May he live a thousand years—mine host of the +Golden Crown!—and may his shadow never be less!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV.</h2> + +<h3>DOWN THE DRIVSDAL.</h3> + + +<p>The next morning I proceeded on my way, resolved, +if ever I came this route again, to spend a week at Djerkin. +A withered old man accompanied me on the back +of the cariole. After half an hour’s hard climbing up a +very steep hill we reached the highest point of the Dovre +Fjeld, 4594 feet above the level of the sea. From this +point the view is exceedingly weird and desolate. Owing +to the weather, however, which was dark and threatening, +I did not stop long to enjoy the view of the barren +wastes that lay behind, but was soon dashing at a +slapping pace down into the valley of the Drivsdal—one +of the most rugged and picturesque in Norway.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_369" id="Page_369">[369]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 383px;"> +<a name="drivsdal_valley" id="drivsdal_valley"></a> +<img src="images/thor053.png" width="383" height="500" +alt="A cariole travels a high valley road, sheer rock walls above and below on both sides" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DRIVSDAL VALLEY.</p> + +<p>My journey down the valley of the Drivsdal was both +pleasant and interesting. A beautiful new road commences +at Kongsvold, the last station on the Dovre Fjeld, +after passing Djerkin, and follows the winding of the river +through the narrow gorges of the mountains all the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_370" id="Page_370">[370]</a></span> +way to Ny Orne. On each side towering and pine-covered +mountains rear their rugged crests, sometimes approaching +so close to the river as to overhang the road, +which for miles on a stretch is hewn from the solid rock.</p> + +<p>The innumerable clefts and fissures that mark the rugged +fronts of the cliffs; the overhanging trees and shrubbery; +the toppling boulders of granite, balanced in mid-air; +the rushing torrents that dash from the moss-covered +rocks; the seething and foaming waters of the Driv, +whirling through the narrow gorges hundreds of feet +below the road; the bright blue sky overhead, and the +fitful gleams of sunshine darting through the masses of +pine and circling into innumerable rainbows in the spray +of the river, all combine to form a scene of incomparable +beauty and grandeur such as I have rarely seen equaled +in any part of the world, and only surpassed by the Siskiyon +Mountains in the northern part of California.</p> + +<p>About midway down the valley, after passing the settlement +of Rise, I stopped to examine a curious passage +of the river in the neighborhood of the Drivstuklere, +where it dashes down between two solid walls of rocks, +which at this point approach so as to form a passage of +not more than fifteen feet in width. Securing my cariole +horse to a tree by the side of the road, I descended +a steep bank under the guidance of my skydskaarl, a +bright little fellow about ten years of age, who first called +my attention to this remarkable phenomenon. I was +soon compelled to follow his example, and crawl over the +rocks like a caterpillar to avoid falling into the frightful +abyss below. For a distance of fifty or sixty yards, the +river, compressed within a limit of fifteen feet, dashes +with fearful velocity through its rugged and tortuous +boundaries, filling the air with spray, and making an +angry moan, as if threatening momentarily to tear the +rocks from their solid beds, and sweep them, into the +broad and sullen pool below.</p> + +<p>The trembling of the massive boulder upon which I +lay outstretched peering into the raging abyss, the fierce +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_371" id="Page_371">[371]</a></span> +surging of the waters, the whirling clouds of spray, and +gorgeous prismatic colors that flashed through them, +created an impression that the whole was some wild, +mad freak of the elements, gotten up to furnish the traveler +with a startling idea of the wonders and beauties +of Norwegian scenery.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<a name="passage_on_the_driv" id="passage_on_the_driv"></a> +<img src="images/thor054.png" width="386" height="500" +alt="A man lies on a rock outcrop, looking down at the rushing river" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">PASSAGE ON THE DRIV.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_372" id="Page_372">[372]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV.</h2> + +<h3>A NORWEGIAN HORSE-JOCKEY.</h3> + + +<p>Late one evening I arrived at a lonely little station +by the wayside, not far beyond the valley of the Drivsdal. +I was cold and hungry, and well disposed to enjoy +whatever good cheer the honest people who kept the inn +might have in store for me. The house and outbuildings +were such as belong to an ordinary farming establishment, +and did not promise much in the way of entertainment. +Upon entering the rustic doorway I was kindly +greeted by the host—a simple, good-natured looking +man—who, as usual, showed me into the best room. +Now I am not aware of any thing in my appearance that +entitles me to this distinction, but it has generally been +my fate, in this sort of travel, to be set apart and isolated +from the common herd in the fancy room of the establishment, +which I have always found to be correspondingly +the coldest and most uncomfortable. It is a +great annoyance in Norway to be treated as a gentleman. +The commonest lout can enjoy the cozy glow and +social gossip of the kitchen or ordinary sitting-room, but +the traveler whom these good people would honor must +sit shivering and alone in some great barn of a room because +it contains a sofa, a bureau, a looking-glass, a few +mantle-piece ornaments, and an occasional picture of the +king or some member of the royal family. I have walked +up and down these dismal chambers for hours at a +time, staring at the daubs on the walls, and picking up +little odds and ends of ornaments, and gazing vacantly +at them, till I felt a numbness steal all over me, accompanied +by a vague presentiment that I was imprisoned +for life. The progress of time is a matter of no importance +in Norway. To an American, accustomed to see +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_373" id="Page_373">[373]</a></span> +every thing done with energy and promptness, it is absolutely +astounding—the indifference of these people to +the waste of hours. They seem to be forever asleep, or +doing something that bears no possible reference to their +ostensible business. If you are hungry and want something +to eat in a few minutes, the probability is you will +be left alone in the fine room for several hours, at the +expiration of which you discover that the inn-keeper is +out in the stable feeding his horses, his wife in the back +yard looking after the chickens, and his children sitting +at a table in the kitchen devouring a dish of porridge. +Upon expressing your astonishment that nothing is +ready, the good man of the house says “Ja! it will be +ready directly, min Herr!” and if you are lucky it comes +in another hour—a cup of coffee and some bread perhaps, +which you could just as well have had in ten minutes. +Patience may be a virtue in other countries, but +it is an absolute necessity in Norway. I believe, after +the few weeks’ experience I had on the road to Trondhjem, +I could without difficulty sit upon a monument +and smile at grief.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 393px;"> +<a name="the_prize" id="the_prize"></a> +<img src="images/thor055.png" width="393" height="500" +alt="The man places the bag of prize money on the table" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE PRIZE.</p> + +<p>Perceiving through the cracks of the door that there +was a good fire in the kitchen, and hearing the cheerful +voices of the man and his wife, varied by the merry whistle +my skydskaarl, I made bold to go in and ask leave +to stand by the fire. The good people seemed a little +astonished at first that a person of quality like myself +should prefer the kitchen to the fine room with the sofa +and bureau, the mantle-piece ornaments and pictures of +the royal family; but, by dint of good-humored gossip +about the horses, and an extravagant compliment thrown +in about the beauty of the landlady’s children—for which +I hope to be pardoned—I secured a comfortable seat by +the fire, and was soon quite at home. The great open +fireplace, the blazing pine logs, the well-smoked hobs, the +simmering pots and steaming kettles, had something indescribably +cheerful about them; and lighting my pipe, +I puffed away cozily during the pauses in the conversation, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_374" id="Page_374">[374]</a></span> +having a delightful consciousness that nature had +peculiarly adapted me for the vulgar enjoyments of life, +and that every thing approaching the refinements of civilization +was a great bore. It was doubtless this taint +of the savage in my disposition that made me look with +such horror upon neat rooms and civilized furniture, and +fall back with such zest upon the primitive comforts of +savage life. When I told the people of the house that +I was all the way from California—that I had come expressly +to see their country—there was no end to the interest +and excitement. “Dear me!” they cried, “and +you have traveled a long way! You must be very tired! +And you must be very rich to travel so far! Ah Gott—how +wonderful!” “Did you come all the way in a cariole?” +inquired the simple-minded host. “No; I came +part of the way by sea, in a great ship.” “How wonderful!” +“And what sort of horses had they in California?” +I told some tough stories about the mustang +horses, in which the landlord was profoundly interested, +for I soon discovered that horses were his great hobby. +Whatever we talked of, he invariably came back to horse-flesh. +His head was overrunning with horses. I praised +his cariole horses, and he was enchanted. He gave me +the pedigree of every horse in his stable, scarcely a word +of which I understood, and then wound up by telling me +he was considered the best judge of horses in all Norway. +I did not think there was much in his appearance +indicative of the shrewd horse-jockey, but was soon convinced +of his shrewdness, for he informed me confidentially +he had drawn the great prize at the last annual +horse-fair at Christiania, and if I didn’t believe it he would +show it to me! I tried to make him understand that I +had no doubt at all what he said was strictly true; but, +not satisfied at this expression of faith in his word, he +went to a big wooden chest in the corner and took out +a bag of money, which he placed upon the middle of the +table with a proud smile of triumph. “That,” said he, +“is the prize! A hundred and fifty silver dollars—<em>silver</em>, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_375" id="Page_375">[375]</a></span> +mind you—all <small>SILVER</small>!” But perhaps I didn’t believe +it was a prize? Well, he would convince me of +that. So he left the bag of money on the table and went +into a back room to get the certificate of the society, in +which it was all duly written out, with his name in large +letters, the paper being neatly framed in a carved frame, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_376" id="Page_376">[376]</a></span> +the work of his own hands. There it was; I could read +for myself! I tried to read it to oblige him, and as I +blundered over the words he took it into his head that I +was still incredulous. “Nai! nai!” said he, “you shall +see the money! You shall count it for yourself!” In +vain I strove to convince him that I was entirely satisfied +on the subject—that he must not go to so much +trouble on my account. “Nai! nai!” cried the enthusiastic +dealer in horse-flesh, “it is no trouble. You shall +see the money <small>WITH YOUR OWN EYES</small>!” And forthwith +he untied the string of the bag, and poured out the shining +dollars in a pile on the middle of the table. His good +wife stood by, professing to smile, but I suspected, from +the watchful expression of her eye, that she did not feel +quite at ease. The skydskaarl leaned over with a general +expression of the most profound astonishment and admiration. +“See!” cried the old man; “this is the prize—every +dollar of it. But you must count it—I’ll help +you—so!” As there was no getting over the task imposed +upon me without hurting his feelings, I had to sit +down and help to count the money—no very pleasant +job for a hungry man. After summing up our respective +piles, there appeared to be only a hundred and forty-nine +dollars—just a dollar short. “Lieb Gott!” cried +the man, “there must be a mistake! Let us count it +again!” I felt that there was a necessity for counting +it very carefully this time, for the landlady’s eye was on +me with a very searching expression. “Een, to, tre, five, +fem, sex,” and so on for nearly half an hour, when we +summed up our counts again. This time it was only a +hundred and forty-eight dollars—just two dollars short! +The old man scratched his head and looked bewildered. +The landlady moved about nervously, and stared very +hard at me. It was getting to be rather an embarrassing +affair. I blamed myself for being so foolishly drawn into +it. Wishing to know if there really was a mistake, I +begged my host to let me count it alone, which I did by +making fifteen piles of ten dollars each, carefully counting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_377" id="Page_377">[377]</a></span> +every pile. It was all right; the whole amount was +there, a hundred and fifty dollars. “All right!” said I, +much relieved; “don’t you see, every pile is exactly the +same height!” “Ja! Ja!” said the man; “but I don’t +understand it. Here, wife, you and I must count it!” +So the wife sat down, and they both began counting the +money, varying every time they compared notes from +two to ten dollars. Once they had it a hundred and sixty +dollars. “The devil is in the money!” exclaimed the +horse-dealer; “I’m certain I counted right.” “And so +am I!” said the woman; “I can not be mistaken. It is +you who have made the mistake. You always were a +stupid old fool about money!” This she said with some +degree of asperity, for she was evidently displeased at +the whole proceeding. “A fool, eh? A fool!” muttered +the old man; “you do well to call me a fool before +strangers!” “Ja, that’s the way! I always told you +so!” screamed the woman, in rising tones of anger; +“you’ll lose all your money yet!” “Lose it!” retorted +the man; “don’t you see I have made ten dollars by +counting it to-night! There! count it yourself, and hold +your peace, woman!” Here the wife, suppressing her +wrath, made a careful and deliberate count, which resulted +in the exact sum of a hundred and fifty dollars! I +was much relieved; but by this time the old man, unable +to bear the torrent of reproaches heaped upon him by +his good wife for his stupidity, swore she must have made +a mistake. He was sure he had counted a hundred and +sixty; therefore he would count it again, all alone, which +he proceeded to do, very slowly and cautiously. This +time the result was a hundred and fifty-five dollars. +“The devil’s in it!” cried the astonished dealer; “there’s +some magic about it! I don’t understand it. I must +count it again!” The woman, however, being satisfied +that it was all right, I now thought it best to return to +my seat by the fire, where she soon began to busy herself +preparing the supper, turning round now and then +of course to let off a broadside at her old man. She took +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_378" id="Page_378">[378]</a></span> +occasion to inform me, during the progress of her culinary +labors, that he was a very good sort of man, but was +somewhat addicted to brandy-wine, of which he had partaken +a little too freely on the present occasion. I must +excuse him. She would send him to bed presently. And +now, if I pleased, supper was ready.</p> + +<p>I could not help thinking, as I lay in bed that night, +how lucky it was for these simple-minded people that +they lived in the interior of Norway. Even in California, +where public and private integrity is the prevailing +trait of the people, it would hardly be considered safe to +pull out a bag of money at a wayside inn and show it to +every passing stranger. I have known men there in high +public positions whom I would scarcely like to tempt in +that way, especially if there was money enough in the +bag to make robbery respectable.</p> + +<p>All along the route during the next day the scenery +was a continued feast of enjoyment. In looking back +over it now, however, after the lapse of several months, +it would be difficult to recall any thing beyond its general +features—pine-covered mountains, green valleys, dark +rocky glens, foaming torrents of water, and groups of +farm-houses by the wayside. At Bjerkager I reached +the first of the “slow-stations;” that is to say, the established +post-houses, where a margin of three hours is allowed +for a change of horses. I had supposed that in a +country, and on a public route, where during the summer +there must be considerable travel, it would hardly +be possible that so long a delay could take place; but in +this I was mistaken. The slow-stations are emphatically +slow; the keepers are slow, the horses are slow, the +whole concern is slow. From Bjerkager to Garlid, and +from Garlid to Hov, including all delays, a distance of +three hours and a half ordinary time, it took me all day. +No entreaties, no offers of extra compensation, no expressions +of impatience produced the slightest effect. +The people at these places were not to be hurried. Kind +and good-natured as they were in appearance and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_379" id="Page_379">[379]</a></span> +expression, I found them the most bull-headed and intractable +race of beings on the face of the earth.</p> + +<p>I was particularly struck with the depressing lethargy +that hung over a wretched little place called Soknaes, +which I made out to reach the next morning. A dead +silence reigned over the miserable huddle of buildings +by the roadside. The houses looked green and mildewed. +A few forlorn chickens in the stable-yard, and a half-starved +dog crouching under the door-steps, too poor to +bark and too lazy to move, were the only signs of life +that greeted me as I approached. I knocked at the door, +but no answer was made to the summons. Not a living +soul was to be seen around the place. I attempted to +whistle and shout. Still the terrible silence remained +unbroken save by the dismal echoes of my own melancholy +music. At length I went to a rickety shed under +which some carts were drawn up for shelter from the +weather. In one of the carts, half-covered in a bundle +of straw, was a bundle of clothes. It moved as I drew +near; it thrust a boot out over the tail-board; it shook +itself; it emitted a curious sound between a grunt and a +yawn; it raised itself up and shook off a portion of the +straw; it thrust a red night-cap out of the mass of shapeless +rubbish; the night-cap contained a head and a matted +shock of hair; there was a withered, old-fashioned +little face on the front part of the head, underneath the +shock of hair, which opened its mouth and eyes, and +gazed at me vacantly; it was an old man or a boy, I could +not tell which till it spoke, when I discovered that it was +something between the two, and was the skydskaarl or +hostler of this remarkable establishment. He rubbed his +eyes and stared again. “Hello!” said I. He grunted +out something. “Heste og Cariole!” said I. “Ja! Ja!” +grunted the hostler, and then he began to get out of the +cart. I suppose he creaked, though I do not pretend +that the sounds were audible. First one leg came out; +slowly it was followed by the other. When they both +got to the ground, he pushed his body gradually over the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_380" id="Page_380">[380]</a></span> +tail-board, and in about five minutes was standing before +me.</p> + +<p>“A horse and cariole,” said I; “let me have them +quick!”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!”</p> + +<p>“<i>Strax!</i>” [directly!] said I.</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!”</p> + +<p>“How long will it be?”</p> + +<p>“Ach!”—here he yawned.</p> + +<p>“An hour?”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!”</p> + +<p>“Two hours?”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!”</p> + +<p>“Three hours?”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!”</p> + +<p>“Sacramento! I can’t stand that, I must have one +<small>STRAX</small>—directly—forstöede?”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja!” and the fellow rubbed his eyes and yawned +again.</p> + +<p>“Look here! my friend,” said I, “if you’ll get me a +horse and cariole in half an hour, I’ll give you two marks +extra—forstöe?”</p> + +<p>“Ja! Ja! twa mark” (still yawning).</p> + +<p>“Half an hour, mind you!”</p> + +<p>“<i>Tre time</i>—three hours!” grunted the incorrigible +dunderhead.</p> + +<p>“Then good-by—I must travel on foot!” and, with +rage and indignation depicted in every feature, I flung +my knapsack over my shoulder and made a feint to start.</p> + +<p>“Adieu! farvel!” said the sleepy lout, good-naturedly +holding out his hand to give me a parting shake. “Farvel, +min Herr! May your journey be pleasant! God +take care of you!”</p> + +<p>The perfect sincerity of the fellow completely dissipated +my rage, and, giving him a friendly shake, I proceeded +on my way. As I turned the corner of the main +building and struck into the road, I cast a look back. He +was still standing by the cart, yawning and rubbing his +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_381" id="Page_381">[381]</a></span> +eyes as before. That man would make money in California—if +money could be made by a bet on laziness. +He is lazier than the old Dutch skipper who was too lazy +to go below, and gave orders to the man at the helm to +follow the sun so as to keep him in the shade of the +main-sail, by reason of which he sailed round the horizon +till his tobacco gave out, and he had to return home +for a fresh supply. I call that a strong case of laziness, +but scarcely stronger than the traveler meets with every +day in Norway.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI.</h2> + +<h3>OUT OF MONEY.</h3> + + +<p>I now began to enjoy the real pleasures of Norwegian +travel. No longer compelled to endure the vexatious +delays to which I had lately been subject, I bowled along +the road, with my knapsack on my back, at the rate of +four miles an hour, whistling merrily from sheer exuberance +of health and lack of thought. The weather was +charming. A bright sun shed its warm rays over hill +and dale; the air was fresh and invigorating; the richest +tints adorned the whole face of the country, which +from Soknaes to Trondhjem gradually increases in fertility +and breadth of outline, till it becomes almost unrivaled +in the profusion of its pastoral beauties. Nothing +can surpass the gorgeous splendor of the autumnal sunsets +in this part of Norway. At an earlier period of the +year there is perpetual daylight for several weeks, and +for three days the sun does not descend below the horizon. +The light, however, is too strong during that period +to produce the rich and glowing tints which cover +the sky and mountain-tops at a later season of the year. +I was fortunate in being just in time to enjoy the full +measure of its beauties, and surely it is not too much to +say that such an experience is of itself worth a trip to +Norway. I shall not attempt a description of Norwegian +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_382" id="Page_382">[382]</a></span> +skies, however, after the glowing picture of the +North Cape at midnight drawn by the pen of my friend +Bayard Taylor, the most faithful and enthusiastic of all +the travelers who have given their experience of this interesting +region.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 263px;"> +<a name="traveling_on_foot" id="traveling_on_foot"></a> +<img src="images/thor056.png" width="263" height="400" +alt="A man hiking along" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TRAVELING ON FOOT.</p> + +<p>Keeping along the banks of the Gula, the road winds +around the sides of the hills, sometimes crossing open valleys, +and occasionally penetrating the shady recesses of +the pine forests, till it diverges from the river at Meelhus. +Soon after leaving this station the views from the +higher points over which the road passes are of great +beauty and extent, embracing a glimpse, from time to +time, of the great Trondhjem Fjord.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_383" id="Page_383">[383]</a></span> +Night overtook me at the pretty little station of Esp. +Next morning I was up bright and early, and, after a cup +of coffee and some rolls, shouldered my knapsack and +pushed on to Trondhjem.</p> + +<p>Finding my purse growing lighter every day, I was +compelled at this point to cut short my intended journey +to the North Cape, and take the first steamer down the +coast for Christiansund and Hamburg.</p> + +<p>Arrived once more at the family head-quarters in +Frankfort-on-the-Main, I spent a few months writing up +the loose material I had thus gathered, and making foot-tours +through the Odenwald, the Spessart, and the +Schwartzwald. But I was not satisfied with what I had +seen of the North. There was still a wild region, far beyond +any explorations I had yet made, which constantly +loomed up in my imagination—the chaotic land of frost +and fire, where dwelt in ancient times the mighty Thor, +the mystic deity of the Scandinavians.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII.</h2> + +<h3>ICELANDIC TRAVEL.</h3> + + +<p>Not many years have passed since it was considered +something of an achievement to visit Iceland. The traveler +who had the hardihood to penetrate the chilly fogs +of the North, and journey by the compass through a region +of everlasting snows and desolating fires, could well +afford to stay at home during the remainder of his life, +satisfied with the reputation generally accorded him by +his fellow-men. It was something to have plunged into +rivers of unknown depth, and traversed treacherous bogs +and desert fjelds of lava—something to be able to speak +knowingly of the learned Sagas, and verify the wonders +of the Burned Njal.</p> + +<p>An isolated spot of earth, bordering on the Arctic Circle, +and cut off by icebergs and frozen seas from all intercourse +with the civilized world during half the year, once +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_384" id="Page_384">[384]</a></span> +the seat of an enlightened republic, and still inhabited +by the descendants of men who had worshiped Odin and +Thor, must surely have presented rare attractions to the +enterprising traveler before it became a beaten track for +modern tourists. A simple narrative of facts was then +sufficient to enlist attention. Even the unlearned adventurer +could obtain a reputation by an unvarnished recital +of what he saw and heard. He could describe the +Lögberg upon which the republican Parliament held its +sittings, and attest from personal observation that this +was the exact spot where judgments were pronounced +by the <i>Thing</i>. He could speak familiarly of heathen +gods and vikings after a brief intercourse with the inhabitants, +who are still tinctured with the spirit of their early +civilization. He could tell of frightful volcanoes, that +fill the air with clouds of ashes, and desolate the earth +with burning floods of lava, and of scalding hot water +shot up out of subterranean boilers, and gaping fissures +that emit sulphurous vapors, and strange sounds heard +beneath the earth’s surface, and all the marvelous experiences +of Icelandic travel, including ghosts and hobgoblins +that ramble over the icy wastes by night, and hide +themselves in gloomy caverns by day—these he could +dwell upon in earnest and homely language with the +pleasing certainty of an appreciative audience. But times +have sadly changed within the past few years. A trip +to Iceland nowadays is little more than a pleasant summer +excursion, brought within the capacity of every tyro +in travel through the leveling agency of steam. When +a Parisian lady of rank visits Spitzbergen, and makes the +overland journey from the North Cape to the Gulf of +Bothnia, of what avail is it for any gentleman of elegant +leisure to leave his comfortable fireside? We tourists +who are ambitious to see the world in an easy way need +but sit in our cushioned chair, cosily smoking our cigar, +while some enterprising lady puts a girdle round about +the earth; for we may depend upon it she will reappear +ere leviathan can swim a league, and present us with a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_385" id="Page_385"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_386" id="Page_386">[386]</a></span> +bouquet of wonderful experiences, neatly pressed between +the pages of an entertaining volume. The icebergs of +the Arctic, the bananas of the tropics, the camels of the +East, the buffaloes of the West, and the cannibals of the +South, are equally at our service. We can hold the +mountains, rivers, seas, and human races between our +finger and thumb, and thus, as we gently dally with care, +we may see the wonders of the world as in a pleasant +dream. Thus may we enjoy the perils and hardships of +travel at a very small sacrifice of personal comfort.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_great_geyser" id="the_great_geyser"></a> +<img src="images/thor057.png" width="600" height="434" +alt="A small encampment of three men watch as the geyser spouts water" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE GREAT GEYSER.</p> + +<p>It was somewhat in this style that I reasoned when +the idea occurred to me of making a trip to Iceland. +From all accounts it was a very uncomfortable country, +deficient in roads, destitute of hotels, and subject to various +eccentricities of climate. Neither fame nor money +was to be gained by such a trip—unless, indeed, I succeeded +in catching the great auk, for which, it is said, the +directors of the British Museum have offered a reward +of a hundred pounds. This was a chance, to be sure. I +might possibly be able to get hold of the auk, and thereby +secure money enough to pay expenses, and make certain +a niche in the temple of fame. It would be something +to rank with the great men who had devoted their +lives to the pursuit of the dodo and the roc. But there +was a deplorable lack of information about the haunts +and habits of the auk. I was not even satisfied of its +existence, by the fact that two Englishmen visited Iceland +a few years ago for the purpose of securing a specimen +of this wonderful bird, and, after six weeks of unavailing +search, wrote a book to prove that there was +still reason to hope for success.</p> + +<p>Upon the whole, I thought it would not do to depend +upon the auk. There was but one opening left—to visit +Iceland, sketch-book in hand, and faithfully do what others +had left undone—make accurate sketches of the +mountains, rivers, lava-fjelds, geysers, people, and costumes. +In nothing is Iceland so deficient as in pictorial +representation. It has been very minutely surveyed by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_387" id="Page_387">[387]</a></span> +the Danes, and Olsen has left nothing to wish for in the +way of topographical delineation, but artists do not seem +to have found it an attractive field for the exercise of +their talent. At least I could obtain no good pictures +of Iceland in Copenhagen. The few indifferent sketches +published there, and in the journals of late English and +German tourists, afford no adequate idea of the country. +I have seen nothing of the kind any where that impressed +my mind with the slightest notion of that land +of fire, or the spirit and genius of Icelandic life. It would +therefore be some gain to the cause of knowledge if I +could present to five hundred thousand of my fellow-citizens, +who do their traveling through these illuminated +pages, a reasonably fair delineation of the country and the +people, with such simple record of my own experiences +as would render the sketches generally intelligible.</p> + +<p>So one fine morning in May I shouldered my knapsack, +and bade a temporary adieu to my friends in Frankfort. +By night I was in Hamburg. The next day was agreeably +spent in rambling about the gardens across the Alster +Basin, and at 5 P.M. I left Altona for Kiel, a journey +of three hours by rail across a flat and not very interesting +tract of country within the limits of Schleswig-Holstein. +From Kiel a steamer leaves for Korsör, on the +island of Zealand, the terminus of the Copenhagen Railway. +This is the most direct route between Hamburg +and Copenhagen, though the trip may be very pleasantly +varied by taking a steamer to Taars, and passing by diligence +through the islands of Lalland, Falster, and Möen.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII.</h2> + +<h3>HANS CHRISTIAN ANDERSEN.</h3> + + +<p>A few days after my arrival in Copenhagen I had the +pleasure of making the acquaintance of Professor Andersen, +of the Scandinavian Museum, a native Icelander, who +very kindly showed me the chief objects of curiosity +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_388" id="Page_388">[388]</a></span> +obtained from the Danish possessions in the North, consisting +mostly of fish and geological specimens. The Minister +of the Judiciary obligingly gave me a letter to the +governor and principal amtmen of Iceland, and many other +gentlemen of influence manifested the most friendly +interest in my proposed undertaking. I was especially +indebted to Captain Södring, late owner of the <i>Fox</i>, of +Arctic celebrity, for much valuable information respecting +the Northern seas, as well as for his cordial hospitality +and indefatigable efforts to make my sojourn in Copenhagen +both agreeable and profitable. Indeed, I was +delighted with the place and the people. The Danes are +exceedingly genial in their manners, distinguished alike +for their simplicity and intelligence. There is no trouble +to which they will not put themselves to oblige a stranger. +In my rambles through the public libraries and +museums I was always accompanied by some professor +attached to the institution, who took the greatest pains +to explain every thing, and impress me with a favorable +idea of the value of the collection. This was not a mere +formal matter of duty; many of them spent hours and +even days in the performance of their friendly labors, +omitting nothing that might contribute to my enjoyment +as a stranger. The visitor who can not spend his time +agreeably in such society, surrounded by such institutions +as Thorwaldsen’s Museum and the National Collection +of Scandinavian Antiquities, must be difficult to +please indeed. The Tivoli or the Dyrhave, an evening +at Fredericksberg, or a trip to “Hamlet’s Grave” at Elsineur, +would surely fill the measure of his contentment. +Whether in the way of beautiful gardens, public amusements, +charming excursions, or agreeable and intelligent +society, I know of no European capital that can surpass +Copenhagen. Our excellent minister, Mr. Wood, with +whom I had the pleasure of spending an evening at Elsineur, +speaks in the most complimentary terms of the +Danes and their customs, and expresses some surprise, +considering the general increase of European travel from +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_389" id="Page_389">[389]</a></span> +our country, that so few American tourists visit Denmark.</p> + +<p>I could not do myself the injustice to leave Copenhagen +without forming the personal acquaintance of a man +to whom a debt of gratitude is due by the young and the +old in all countries—the ramblers in fairy-land, the lovers +of romance, and the friends of humanity—all who can +feel the divine influence of genius, and learn, through the +teachings of a kindly heart, that the inhabitants of earth +are</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Kindred by one holy tie”—<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>the quaint, pathetic, genial Hans Christian Andersen. +Not wishing to impose any obligation of courtesy on him +by a letter of introduction or the obliging services of my +Danish friends, I called at his house unattended, and +merely sent in my name and address. Unfortunately he +was out taking his morning walk, and would not be back +till the afternoon. By calling at three o’clock, the servant +said, I would be very likely to find him at home. I +then added to my card the simple fact that I was an +American traveler on my way to Iceland for the purpose +of making some sketches of the country, and would take +the liberty of calling at the appointed hour. It may be +a matter of interest to an American reader to have some +idea of the peculiar neighborhood and style of house in +which a great Danish author has chosen to take up his +abode. The city of Copenhagen, it should be borne in +mind, is intersected by canals which, during the summer +months, are crowded with small trading vessels from +Sweden and Jutland, and fishing-smacks from the neighboring +islands and coast of Norway. The wharves bordering +on these canals present an exceedingly animated +appearance. Peasants, sailors, traders, and fishermen, in +every variety of costume, are gathered in groups, enjoying +a social gossip, or interchanging their various products +and wares, and strawberries from Amak and fish +from the Skager-Rack mingle their odors. In the second +story of a dingy and dilapidated house, fronting one of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_390" id="Page_390">[390]</a></span> +these unsavory canals, a confused pile of dirty, shambling +old tenements in the rear, and a curious medley of fish +and fishermen, sloops and schooners, mud-scows and skiffs +in front, lives the world-renowned author, Hans Christian +Andersen. I say he lives there, but, properly speaking, +he only lodges. It seems to be a peculiarity of his nature +to move about from time to time into all the queer +and uninviting places possible to be discovered within +the limits of Copenhagen—not where</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">“The mantling vine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lays forth her grape and gently creeps<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Luxuriant,”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>but where the roughest, noisiest, busiest, and fishiest of +an amphibious population is to be found. Here it is, apparently +amid the most incongruous elements, that he draws +from all around him the most delicate traits of +human nature, and matures for the great outer world the +most exquisite creations of his fancy. It is purely a labor +of love in which he spends his life. The products of his +pen have furnished him with ample means to live in elegant +style, surrounded by all the allurements of rank and +fashion, but he prefers the obscurity of a plain lodging +amid the haunts of those classes whose lives and pursuits +he so well portrays. Here he cordially receives all who +call upon him, and they are not few. Pilgrims of every +condition in life and from all nations do homage to his +genius, yet, valuable as his time is, he finds enough to +spare for the kindly reception of his visitors. His only +household companions appear to be two old peasant +women, whom he employs as domestics; weather-beaten +and decrepit old creatures, with faces and forms very +much like a pair of antiquated nut-crackers. He occupies +only two or three rooms plainly furnished, and apparently +lives in the simplest and most abstemious style.</p> + +<p>When I called according to directions, one of the ancient +nut-crackers merely pointed to the door, and said +she thought Herr Andersen was in, but didn’t know. I +could knock there and try; so I knocked. Presently I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_391" id="Page_391">[391]</a></span> +heard a rapid step, and the door was thrown open. Before +me stood the tall, thin, shambling, raw-boned figure +of a man a little beyond the prime of life, but not yet old, +with a pair of dancing gray eyes and a hatchet-face, all +alive with twists, and wrinkles, and muscles; a long, lean +face, upon which stood out prominently a great nose, diverted +by a freak of nature a little to one side, and flanked +by a tremendous pair of cheek-bones, with great hollows +underneath. Innumerable ridges and furrows swept +semicircularly downward around the corners of a great +mouth—a broad, deep, rugged fissure across the face, that +might have been mistaken for the dreadful child-trap of +an ogre but for the sunny beams of benevolence that +lurked around the lips, and the genial humanity that +glimmered from every nook and turn. Neither mustache +nor beard obscured the strong individuality of this +remarkable face, which for the most part was of a dull +granite color, a little mixed with limestone and spotted +with patches of porphyry. A dented gutta-percha forehead, +very prominent about the brows, and somewhat +resembling in its general topography a raised map of +Switzerland, sloped upward and backward to the top of +the head; not a very large head, but wonderfully bumped +and battered by the operations of the brain, and partially +covered by a mop of dark wavy hair, a little thin +in front and somewhat grizzled behind; a long, bony +pair of arms, with long hands on them; a long, lank body, +with a long black coat on it; a long, loose pair of legs, +with long boots on the feet, all in motion at the same +time—all shining, and wriggling, and working with an +indescribable vitality, a voice bubbling up from the vast +depths below with cheery, spasmodic, and unintelligible +words of welcome—this was the wonderful man that +stood before me, the great Danish improvisator, the lover +of little children, the gentle Caliban who dwells among +fairies and holds sweet converse with fishes, and frogs, +and beetles! I would have picked him out from among +a thousand men at the first glance as a candidate for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_392" id="Page_392">[392]</a></span> +Congress, or the proprietor of a tavern, if I had met him +any where in the United States. But the resemblance +was only momentary. In the quaint awkwardness of +his gestures and the simplicity of his speech there was a +certain refinement not usually found among men of that +class. Something in the spontaneous and almost childlike +cordiality of his greeting; the unworldly impulsiveness +of his nature, as he grasped both my hands in his, +patted me affectionately on the shoulder, and bade me +welcome, convinced me in a moment that this was no +other, and could be no other, than Hans Christian Andersen.</p> + +<p>“Come in! come in!” he said, in a gush of broken +English; “come in and sit down. You are very welcome. +Thank you—thank you very much. I am very +glad to see you. It is a rare thing to meet a traveler all +the way from California—quite a surprise. Sit down! +Thank you!”</p> + +<p>And then followed a variety of friendly compliments +and remarks about the Americans. He liked them; he +was sorry they were so unfortunate as to be engaged in +a civil war, but hoped it would soon be over. Did I +speak French? he asked, after a pause. Not very well. +Or German? Still worse, was my answer. “What a +pity!” he exclaimed; “it must trouble you to understand +my English, I speak it so badly. It is only within +a few years that I have learned to speak it at all.” Of +course I complimented him upon his English, which was +really better than I had been led to expect. “Can you +understand it?” he asked, looking earnestly in my face. +“Certainly,” I answered, “almost every word.” “Oh, +thank you—thank you. You are very good,” he cried, +grasping me by the hand. “I am very much obliged to +you for understanding me.” I naturally thanked him +for being obliged to me, and we shook hands cordially, +and mutually thanked one another over again for being +so amiable. The conversation, if such it could be called, +flew from subject to subject with a rapidity that almost +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_393" id="Page_393">[393]</a></span> +took my breath away. The great improvisator dashed +recklessly into every thing that he thought would be interesting +to an American traveler, but with the difficulty +of his utterance in English, and the absence of any knowledge +on his part of my name or history, it was evident +he was a little embarrassed in what way to oblige me +most; and the trouble on my side was, that I was too +busy listening to find time for talking.</p> + +<p>“Dear! dear! And you are going to Iceland!” he +continued. “A long way from California! I would like +to visit America, but it is very dangerous to travel by +sea. A vessel was burned up not long since, and many +of my friends were lost. It was a dreadful affair.”</p> + +<p>From this he diverged to a trip he then had in contemplation +through Switzerland and Spain. He was sitting +for his statuette, which he desired to leave as a memento +to his friends prior to his departure. A young +Danish sculptor was making it. Would I like to see it? +and forthwith I was introduced to the young Danish +sculptor. The likeness was very good, and my comments +upon it elicited many additional thanks and several +squeezes of the hand—it was so kind of me to be +pleased with it! “He is a young student,” said Andersen, +approvingly; “a very good young man. I want to +encourage him. He will be a great artist some day or +other.”</p> + +<p>Talking of likenesses reminded me of a photograph +which I had purchased a few days before, and to which +I now asked the addition of an autograph.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 351px; padding-bottom: 1em;"> +<a name="hans_christian_andersen" id="hans_christian_andersen"></a> +<img src="images/thor058.png" width="351" height="600" +alt="A pen portrait of Hans Christian Andersen, with his signature underneath" /> +</div> + +<p>“Oh, you have a libel on me here!” cried the poet, +laughing joyously—“a very bad likeness. Wait! I have +several much better; here they are—” And he rushed +into the next room, tumbled over a lot of papers, and +ransacked a number of drawers till he found the desired +package—“here’s a dozen of them; take your choice; +help yourself—as many as you please!” While looking +over the collection, I said the likeness of one who had +done so much to promote the happiness of some little +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_394" id="Page_394">[394]</a></span> +friends I had at home would be valued beyond measure; +that I knew at least half a dozen youngsters who were +as well acquainted with the “Little Match Girl,” and the +“Ugly Duck,” and the “Poor Idiot Boy,” as he was himself, +and his name was as familiar in California as it was +in Denmark. At this he grasped both my hands, and +looking straight in my face with a kind of ecstatic expression, +said, “Oh, is it possible? Do they really read +my books in California? so far away! Oh! I thank you +very much. Some of my stories, I am aware, have been +published in New York, but I did not think they had +found their way to the Pacific Coast. Dear me! Thank +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_395" id="Page_395">[395]</a></span> +you! thank you! Have you seen my last—the—what +do you call it in English?—a little animal—”</p> + +<p>“Mouse,” I suggested.</p> + +<p>“No, not a mouse; a little animal with wings.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, a bat!”</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay, a little animal with wings and many legs. +Dear me! I forget the name in English, but you certainly +know it in America—a very small animal!”</p> + +<p>In vain I tried to make a selection from all the little +animals of my acquaintance with wings and many legs. +The case was getting both embarrassing and vexatious. +At length a light broke upon me.</p> + +<p>“A musquito!” I exclaimed, triumphantly.</p> + +<p>“Nay, nay!” cried the bothered poet; “a little animal +with a hard skin on its back. Dear me, I can’t remember +the name!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, I have it now,” said I, really desirous of relieving +his mind—“a flea!”</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 116px;"> +<img src="images/thor059.png" width="116" height="150" +alt="Andersen's creature" /> +</div> + +<p>At this the great improvisator scratched his head, +looked at the ceiling and then at the +floor, after which he took several rapid +strides up and down the room, and +struck himself repeatedly on the forehead. +Suddenly grasping up a pen, +he exclaimed, somewhat energetically, +“Here! I’ll draw it for you;” and +forthwith he drew on a scrap of paper +a diagram, of which the accompanying +engraving is a fac-simile.</p> + +<p>“A tumble-bug!” I shouted, astonished at my former +stupidity.</p> + +<p>The poet looked puzzled and distressed. Evidently I +had not yet succeeded. What could it be?</p> + +<p>“A beetle!” I next ventured to suggest, rather disappointed +at the result of my previous guess.</p> + +<p>“A beetle! A beetle!—that’s it; now I remember—a +beetle!” and the delighted author of “The Beetle” +patted me approvingly on the back, and chuckled +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_396" id="Page_396">[396]</a></span> +gleefully at his own adroit method of explanation. “I’ll +give you ‘The Beetle,’” he said; “you shall have the +only copy in my possession. But you don’t read Danish! +What are we to do? There is a partial translation in +French—a mere notice.”</p> + +<p>“No matter,” I answered. “A specimen of the Danish +language will be very acceptable, and the book will +be a pleasant souvenir of my visit.”</p> + +<p>He then darted into the next room, tumbled over a +dozen piles of books, then out again, ransacked the desks, +and drawers, and heaps of old papers and rubbish, talking +all the time in his joyous, cheery way about his books +and his travels in Jutland, and his visit to Charles Dickens, +and his intended journey through Spain, and his delight +at meeting a traveler all the way from California, +and whatever else came into his head—all in such mixed-up +broken English that the meaning must have been utterly +lost but for the wonderful expressiveness of his face +and the striking oddity of his motions. It came to me +mesmerically. He seemed like one who glowed all over +with bright and happy thoughts, which permeated all +around him with a new intelligence. His presence shed +a light upon others like the rays that beamed from the +eyes of “Little Sunshine.” The book was found at last, +and when he had written his name in it, with a friendly +inscription, and pressed both my hands on the gift, and +patted me once more on the shoulder, and promised to +call at Frankfort on his return from Switzerland to see +his little friends who knew all about the “Ugly Duck” +and the “Little Match Girl,” I took my leave, more delighted, +if possible, with the author than I had ever before +been with his books. Such a man, the brightest, +happiest, simplest, most genial of human beings, is Hans +Christian Andersen.</p> + +<p>The steamer <i>Arcturus</i> was advertised to sail for Reykjavik +on the 4th of June, so it behooved me to be laying +in some sort of an outfit for the voyage during the few +days that intervened. A knapsack, containing a change +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_397" id="Page_397">[397]</a></span> +of linen and my sketching materials, was all I possessed. +This would have been sufficient but for the probability +of rain and cold weather. I wanted a sailor’s monkey-jacket +and an overall. My friend Captain Södring would +not hear of my buying any thing in that way. He had +enough on hand from his old whaling voyages, he said, +to fit out a dozen men of my pattern. Just come up to +the house and take a look at them, and if there wasn’t +too much oil on them, I was welcome to the whole lot; +but the oil, he thought, would be an advantage—it would +keep out the water. In vain I protested—it was no use—the +captain was an old whaler, and so was I, and when +two old whalers met, it was a pity if they couldn’t act +like shipmates on the voyage of life. There was no resisting +this appeal, so I agreed to accept the old clothes. +When we arrived at the captain’s house he disappeared +in the garret, but presently returned bearing a terrific +pile of rubbish on his shoulders, and accompanied by a +stout servant-girl also heavily laden with marine curiosities. +There were sou’westers, and tarpaulins, and skull-caps; +frieze jackets, and overalls, and hickory shirts; tarpaulin +coats, and heavy sea-boots, and duck blouses with +old bunches of oakum sticking out of the pockets; there +were coils of rope-yarn well tarred, and jack-knives in +leather cases, still black with whale-gurry: and a few +telescopes and log-glasses. “Take ’em all,” said the captain. +“They smell a little fishy, but no matter. It’s all +the better for a voyage to Iceland. You’ll be used to +the smell before you get to Reykjavik; and it’s wholesome—very +wholesome! Nothing makes a man so fat.” +I made a small selection—a rough jacket and a few other +essential articles. “Nonsense, man!” roared the captain, +“take ’em all! You’ll find them useful; and if you +don’t, you can heave them overboard or give them to the +sailors.” And thus was I fitted out for the voyage.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_398" id="Page_398">[398]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX.</h2> + +<h3>VOYAGE TO SCOTLAND.</h3> + + +<p>The <i>Arcturus</i> is a small screw steamer owned by +Messrs. Koch and Henderson, and now some six years +on the route between Copenhagen and Reykjavik. The +Danish government pays them an annual sum for carrying +the mails, and they control a considerable trade in +fish and wool. This vessel makes six trips every year, +touching at a port in Scotland both on the outer and return +voyage. At first she made Leith her stopping-place; +but, owing to superior facilities for her business +at Grangemouth, she now stops at that port. The cost +of passage is extremely moderate—only 45 Danish dollars, +about $28 American, living on board 75 cents a day, +and a small fee to the steward, making for the voyage +out or back, which usually occupies about eleven days, +inclusive of stoppages, something less than $40. I mention +this for the benefit of my friends at home, who may +think proper to make a very interesting trip at a very +small expense; though, as will hereafter appear, the most +considerable part of the expenditure occurs in Iceland. +Captain Andersen (they are all Andersens, or Jonasens, +or Hansens, or Petersens in Denmark), a very active and +obliging little Dane, commands the <i>Arcturus</i>. He speaks +English fluently, and is an experienced seaman; and if +the tourist is not unusually fastidious about accommodations, +there will be no difficulty in making an agreeable +voyage. I found every thing on board excellent; the +fare abundant and wholesome, and the sleeping-quarters +not more like coffins than they usually are on board small +steamers. A few inches cut off the passengers’ legs or +added to the length of the berths, and a few extra handspikes +in the lee scuppers to steady the vessel, would be +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_399" id="Page_399">[399]</a></span> +an improvement; but then one can’t have every thing to +suit him. Some grumbling took place, to be sure, after +our departure from Scotland. A young Scotchman wanted +a berth for a big dog in the same cabin with the rest +of his friends, which the captain would not permit; an +Englishman was disgusted with the “beastly fare;” and +an old Danish merchant would persist in shaving himself +at the public table every day—all of which caused an +under-current of dissatisfaction during the early part of +the voyage. Sea-sickness, however, put an end to it before +long, and things went on all right after that.</p> + +<p>But I must not anticipate my narrative. The scene +upon leaving the wharf at Copenhagen was amusing and +characteristic. For some hours before our departure the +decks were crowded with the friends of the passengers. +Every person had to kiss and hug every other person, +and shake hands, and laugh and cry a little, and then hug +and kiss again, without regard to age and not much distinction +of sex. Some natural tears, of course, must always +be shed on occasions of this kind. It was rather +a melancholy reflection, as I stood aloof looking on at all +these demonstrations of affection, that there was nobody +present to grieve over my departure—not even a lapdog +to bestow upon me a parting kiss. Waving of handkerchiefs, +messages to friends in Iceland, and parting +benedictions, took place long before we left the wharf. +At length the last bells were rung, the lingering loved +ones were handed ashore, and the inexorable voice of +the captain was heard ordering the sailors to cast loose +the ropes. We were fairly off for Iceland!</p> + +<p>In a few hours we passed, near Elsineur, the fine old +Castle of Kronberg, built in the time of Tycho Brahe, +once the prison of the unfortunate Caroline Matilda, queen +of Christian VII., and in the great vaults of which it is +said the Danish Roland, Holger Dansk, still lives, his long +white beard grown fast to a stone table. We were soon +out of the Sound, plowing our way toward the famous +Skager-Rack. The weather had been showery and threatening +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_400" id="Page_400">[400]</a></span> +for some time. It now began to rain and blow in +good earnest.</p> + +<p>We had on board only thirteen passengers, chiefly +Danes and Icelanders. Among them was a newly-appointed +amtman for the district of Reykjaness, with a +very accomplished young wife. He was going to spend +the honey-moon amid the glaciers and lava-fjelds of Iceland. +It seemed a dreary prospect for so young and +tender a bride, but she was cheerful and happy, except +when the inevitable hour of sea-sickness came. Love, I +suppose, can make the wilderness blossom as the rose, +and shed a warmth over ice-covered mountains and a +pleasant verdure over deserts of lava. A very agreeable +and intelligent young man, Mr. Jonasen, son of the governor, +was also on board. I saw but little of him during +the passage—only his head over the side of his berth; +but I heard from him frequently after the weather became +rough. If there was any inside left in that young +man by the time we arrived at Reykjavik, it must have +been badly strained. As a son of Iona he completely +reversed the scriptural order of things; for, instead of +being swallowed by a great fish, and remaining in the +belly thereof three days and nights, he swallowed numerous +sprats and sardines himself, yet would never allow +them internal accommodations for the space of three +minutes. My room-mate was a young Icelandic student, +who had been to the college at Copenhagen, and was +now returning to his native land to die. There was +something very sad in his case. He had left home a few +years before with the brightest prospects of success. +Ambitious and talented, he had devoted himself with unwearied +assiduity to his studies, but the activity of his +mind was too much for a naturally feeble constitution. +Consumption set its seal upon him. Given up by the +physicians in Copenhagen, he was returning to breathe +his last in the arms of a loving mother.</p> + +<p>On the second morning after leaving the Sound we +passed close along the Downs of Jutland, a barren shore, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_401" id="Page_401">[401]</a></span> +singularly diversified by great mounds of sand. The +wind sweeping in from the ocean casts up the loose sands +that lie upon this low peninsula, and drifts them against +some bush or other obstacle sufficiently firm to form a +nucleus. In the course of a few years, by constant accumulations, +this becomes a vast mound, sometimes over a +hundred feet high. Nearly the whole of Northern Jutland +is diversified with sand-plains, heaths, and ever-changing +mounds, among which wandering bands of gipsies +still roam. The shores along the Skagen are surrounded +by dangerous reefs of quicksand, stretching for +many miles out into the ocean. Navigation at this point +is very difficult, especially in the winter, when terrific +gales prevail from the northwest. The numerous +stakes, buoys, and other water-marks by which the channel +is designated, the frequency of light-houses and signal +telegraphs, and the wrecks that lie strewn along the +beach, over which the surging foam breaks like a perpetual +dirge, afford striking indication of the dangers to +which mariners are subject in this wild region. Hans +Christian Andersen, in one of his most delightful works, +has thrown a romantic interest over the scenery of Jutland, +giving a charm to its very desolation, and investing +with all the beauty of a genial humanity the rude lives +of the gipsies and fishermen who inhabit this wild region +of drifting sands and wintry tempests. Steen Blicher +has also cast over it the spell of his poetic genius; and +Von Buch, in his graphic narrative, has given a memorable +interest to its sea-girt shores, where “masts and skeletons +of vessels stand like a range of palisades.”</p> + +<p>During our passage through the Skager-Rack we passed +innumerable fleets of fishing-smacks, and often encountered +the diminutive skiffs of the fishermen, with +two or three amphibious occupants, buffeting about +among the waves many miles from the shore. The weather +had been steadily growing worse ever since our departure +from Copenhagen. As we entered the North +Sea it began to blow fiercer than ever, and for two days +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_402" id="Page_402">[402]</a></span> +we experienced all the discomforts of chopping seas that +drenched our decks fore and aft, and chilling gales mingled +with fogs and heavy rains. It was cold enough for +midwinter, yet here we were on the verge of midsummer. +Our little craft was rendered somewhat unmanageable +by a deck-load of coal and a heavy cargo of +freight, and there were periods when I would have +thought myself fortunate in being once more off Cape +Horn in the good ship <i>Pacific</i>. The amtman and his +young bride spent this portion of their honey-moon performing +a kind of duet that reminded me of my friend +Ross Wallace’s lines in “Perdita:”</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“Like two sweet tunes that wandering met,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And so harmoniously they run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The hearer deems they are but one.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>At least the harmony was perfect, whatever might be +thought of the music in other respects. Young Jonasen +swallowed a few more sardines about this period of the +voyage, which he vainly attempted to secure by sudden +and violent contractions of the diaphragm. In short, +there were but two persons in the cabin besides Captain +Andersen and myself who had the temerity to appear at +table—one an old Danish merchant, who generally received +advices, midway through the meal, requiring his +immediate presence on deck; and the other a gentleman +from Holstein, who always lost his appetite after the +soup, and had to jump up and run to his state-room for +exercise.</p> + +<p>In due time we sighted the shores of Scotland. A +pilot came on board inside the Frith of Forth, and, as +we steamed rapidly on our course, all the passengers forgot +their afflictions, and gazed with delight on the sloping +sward and woodland, the picturesque villages, and +romantic old castles that decorate the shores of this magnificent +sheet of water.</p> + +<p>Our destination was Grangemouth, where we arrived +early on Sunday morning. A few sailors belonging to +some vessels in the docks, a custom-house inspector, and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_403" id="Page_403">[403]</a></span> +three small boys, comprised the entire visible population +of the place. Judging by the manner in which the Sabbath +is kept in Scotland, the Scotch must be a profoundly +moral people. The towns are like grave-yards, and +the inhabitants bear a striking resemblance to sextons, +or men who spend much of their lives in burying the +dead.</p> + +<p>I was very anxious to get a newspaper containing the +latest intelligence from America, but was informed that +none could be had on Sunday. I wanted to go up to +Edinburg: it was not possible on Sunday. I asked a +man where could I get some cigars? he didna ken; it +was Sunday. The depressed expression of the few people +I met began to prey like a nightmare on my spirits. +Doubtless it is a very good thing to pay a decent regard +to the Sabbath, but can any body tell me where we are +commanded to look gloomy? The contrast was certainly +very striking between the Scotch and the Danes. Of +course there is no such thing as drunkenness in Scotland, +no assaults and batteries, no robberies and murders, no +divorces, no cheating among the merchants of Glasgow +or the bankers of Edinburg, no sympathizing with rebellion +and the institution of slavery—for the Scotch are a +sober and righteous people, much given to sackcloth and +ashes, manufactures of iron, and societies for the insurance +of property against fire.</p> + +<p>The <i>Arcturus</i> was detained several days discharging +and taking in freight. I availed myself of the first train +to visit Edinburg. A day there, and an excursion to +Glasgow and Loch Lomond, agreeably occupied the time. +I must confess the scenery—beautiful as it is, and fraught +with all the interest that history and genius can throw +over it—disappointed me. It was not what I expected. +It was a damp, moist, uncomfortable reality, as Mantalini +would say—not very grand or striking in any respect. +A subsequent excursion to the Trosachs, Loch Katrine, +Loch Long, and the Clyde, afforded me a better opportunity +of judging, yet it all seemed tame and commonplace +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_404" id="Page_404">[404]</a></span> +compared with the scenery of California and Norway. +If I enjoyed a fair specimen of the climate—rain, +wind, and fog, varied by sickly gleams of sunshine—it +strikes me it would be a congenial country for snails and +frogs to reside in. The Highlands are like all other wild +places within the limits of Europe, very gentle in their +wildness compared with the rugged slopes of the Sierra +Nevada. The Lady of the Lake must have possessed an +uncommonly strong constitution, if she made her nocturnal +excursions on Loch Katrine in a thin white robe without +suffering any bad consequences, for I found a stout +overcoat insufficient to keep the chilling mists of that region +from seeking in my bones a suitable location for +rheumatism.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XL" id="CHAPTER_XL"></a>CHAPTER XL.</h2> + +<h3>THE JOLLY BLOODS.</h3> + + +<p>I was quietly sitting in my state-room, awaiting the +departure of the steamer, when a tremendous racket on +the cabin steps, followed by a rush of feet up and down +the saloon, startled me out of a pleasant home-dream.</p> + +<p>“Hello! What the devil! I say! Where’s every +body! Stoord! Blast the fellow! Here, Bowser! +What’r ye abeaout! Ho there! Where the dooce are +our berths? By Jove! Ha! ha! This is jolly!”</p> + +<p>Other voices joined in, with a general chorus of complaints +and exclamations—“Egad! it’s a <em>do</em>! No berths, +no state-rooms! Ho, Stoord! Where’s my trunk? I +say, Stoord, where’s my fishing-rod? Hey! hey! did +you ’appen to see my overalls? I’ve lost my gun! ’Pon +my word, this is a pretty do! Let’s go see the Agent?” +“Come on! Certainly!” “Oh, hang it, no!” “Oh +yes!” “Here, Bowser! What the devil! Where’s +Bowser? Gone ashore, by Jove! A pretty kettle of +fish!” Here there was a sudden and general stampede, +and amid loud exclamations of “Beastly!” and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_405" id="Page_405">[405]</a></span> +“Disgusting!” the party left the cabin. I barely had time to +see that it consisted of some four or five fashionable tourists—spirited +young bloods of sporting proclivities, who +had taken passage for Iceland. The prospect of having +some company was pleasant enough, and from the specimen +I had seen there could be no doubt it would be lively +and entertaining.</p> + +<p>Once more during the night I was aroused by a repetition +of the noises and exclamations already described. +The steamer was moving off. The passengers were all +on board. We were battering our way through the +canal. Soon the heaving waters of the ocean began to +subdue the enthusiasm of the sportsmen, and before morning +my ears were saluted by sounds and observations of +a very different character.</p> + +<p>I shall only add at present, in reference to this lively +party of young “Britishers,” that I found them very good +fellows in their way—a little boisterous and inexperienced, +but well-educated and intelligent. The young +chap with the dog was what we would call in America +a “regular bird.” He and his dog afforded us infinite +diversion during the whole passage—racing up and down +the decks, into and out of the cabin, and all over each +other. There was something so fresh and sprightly +about the fellow, something so good-natured, that I could +readily excuse his roughness of manner. One of the others, +a quiet, scholastic-looking person, who did not really +belong to the party, having only met them on board, was +a young collegian well versed in Icelandic literature. +He was going to Iceland to perfect himself in the language +of the country, and make some translations of the +learned Sagas.</p> + +<p>A favorable wind enabled us to sight the Orkneys on +the afternoon following our departure from the Frith of +Forth. Next day we passed the Shetlands, of which we +had a good view. The rocky shores of these islands, all +rugged and surf-beaten, with myriads of wild-fowl darkening +the air around them, presented a most tempting +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_406" id="Page_406">[406]</a></span> +field of exploration. I longed to take a ramble in the +footsteps of Dr. Johnson; but to see the Shetlands would +be to lose Iceland, and of the two I preferred seeing the +latter. After a pleasant passage of two days and a half +from Grangemouth we made the Faroe Islands, and had +the good fortune to secure, without the usual loss of time +occasioned by fogs, an anchorage in the harbor of Thorshavn.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 301px;"> +<a name="a_dandy_tourist" id="a_dandy_tourist"></a> +<img src="images/thor060.png" width="301" height="500" +alt="A fashionable young man leans on the rail of the steamer" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A DANDY TOURIST.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_407" id="Page_407">[407]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="thorshavn" id="thorshavn"></a> +<img src="images/thor061.png" width="600" height="338" +alt="The harbor and town, surrounded by hills" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THORSHAVN.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_408" id="Page_408">[408]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLI" id="CHAPTER_XLI"></a>CHAPTER XLI.</h2> + +<h3>THE FAROE ISLANDS.</h3> + + +<p>The Faroe Islands lie about midway between Scotland +and Iceland, and belong to Denmark. The whole +group consists of thirty-five small islands, some of which +are little more than naked rocks jutting up out of the +sea. About twenty are inhabited. The rest are too barren +and precipitous to afford a suitable place of abode +even for the hardy Faroese. The entire population is +estimated at something over six thousand, of which the +greater part are shepherds, fishermen, and bird-catchers. +Owing to the situation of these islands, surrounded by +the open sea and within the influence of the Gulf Stream, +the climate is very mild, although they lie in the sixty-second +degree of north latitude. The winters are never +severe, and frost and snow rarely last over two months. +They are subject, however, at that season to frequent and +terrible gales from the north, and during the summer are +often inaccessible for days and even weeks, owing to +dense fogs. The humidity of the climate is favorable to +the growth of grass, which covers the hills with a brilliant +coating of green wherever there is the least approach +to soil; and where there is no soil, as in many +places along the shores, the rocks are beautifully draped +with moss and lichens. The highest point in the group +is 2800 feet above the level of the sea, and the general +aspect of them all is wild and rugged in the extreme. +Prodigious cliffs, a thousand feet high, stand like a wall +out of the sea on the southern side of the Stromoe. The +Mygenaes-holm, a solitary rock, guards, like a sentinel, +one of the passages, and forms a terrific precipice of 1500 +feet on one side, against which the waves break with an +everlasting roar. Here the solan-goose, the eider-duck, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_409" id="Page_409"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_410" id="Page_410">[410]</a></span> +and innumerable varieties of gulls and other sea-fowl, +build their nests and breed.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="view_in_faroe_islands" id="view_in_faroe_islands"></a> +<img src="images/thor062.png" width="600" height="455" +alt="A sheltered bay with a huge rock outcropping in the center, and two sailing boats" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">VIEW IN FAROE ISLANDS.</p> + +<p>At certain seasons of the year the intrepid bird-hunters +suspend themselves from the cliffs by means of ropes, +and feather their own nests by robbing the nests of their +neighbors. Enormous quantities of eggs are taken in +this way. The eider-down, of which the nests of the +eider-duck are composed, is one of the most profitable +articles of Faroese traffic. The mode of life to which +these men devote themselves, and their habitual contact +with dangers, render them reckless, and many perish every +year by falling from the rocks. Widows and orphans +are numerous throughout the islands.</p> + +<p>The few scattering farms to be seen on the slopes of +the hills and in the arable valleys are conducted on the +most primitive principles. A small patch of potatoes +and vegetables, and in certain exposures a few acres of +grain, comprise the extent of their agricultural operations. +Sheep-raising is the most profitable of their pursuits. +The climate appears to be more congenial to the +growth of wool than of cereal productions. The Faroese +sheep are noted for the fineness and luxuriance of their +fleece, and it always commands a high price in market. +A considerable portion of it is manufactured by the inhabitants, +who are quite skillful in weaving and knitting. +They make a kind of thick woolen shirt, something like +that known as the Guernsey, which for durability and +warmth is unsurpassed. Sailors and fishermen all over +the Northern seas consider themselves fortunate if they +can get possession of a Faroese shirt. The costume of +the men, which is chiefly home-made, consists of a rough, +thick jacket of brown wool; a coarse woolen shirt; a +knitted bag-shaped cap on the head; a pair of knee-breeches +of the same material as the coat; a pair of thick +woolen stockings, and sheepskin shoes, generally covered +with mud—all of the same brown or rather burnt-umber +color. Exposure to the weather gives their skins, +naturally of a leathery texture, something of the same +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_411" id="Page_411">[411]</a></span> +dull and dingy aspect, so that a genuine Faroese enjoys +one advantage—he can never look much more dirty at +one time than another.</p> + +<p>The women wear dresses of the same material, without +much attempt at shape or ornament. A colored +handkerchief tied around the head, a silver breast-pin, +and a pair of ear-rings of domestic manufacture, comprise +their only personal decorations. As in all countries +where the burden of heavy labor is thrown upon +the women, they lose their comely looks at an early age, +and become withered, ill-shaped, and hard-featured long +before they reach the prime of life. The Faroese women +doubtless make excellent wives for lazy men; they do all +the labors of the house, and share largely in those of the +field. I do not know that they are more prolific than +good and loving wives in other parts of the world, but +they certainty enjoy the possession of as many little cotton-heads +with dirty faces, turned up noses, ragged elbows, +and tattered frocks, as one usually meets in the +course of his travels. Two fair specimens of the rising +generation, a little boy and girl, made an excellent speculation +on the occasion of my visit to Thorshavn. Knowing +by instinct, if not by my dress, that I was a stranger, +they followed me about wherever I rambled, looking curiously +and cautiously into my face, and mutually commenting +upon the oddity of my appearance—which, by-the-way, +would have been slightly odd even in the streets +of New York, wrapped, as I was, in the voluminous folds +of Captain Södring’s old whaling coat, with a sketch-book +in my hand and a pair of spectacles on my nose. +However, no man likes to be regarded as an object of +curiosity even by two small ragamuffins belonging to a +strange race, so I just held up suddenly, and requested +these children of Faroe to state explicitly the grounds +of their interest in my behalf. What they said in reply +it would be impossible for me to translate, since the +Faroese language is quite as impenetrable as the Icelandic. +They looked so startled and alarmed withal that +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_412" id="Page_412">[412]</a></span> +a gleam of pity must have manifested its appearance in +the corner of my eyes. The next moment their faces +broke into a broad grin, and each held out a hand audaciously, +as much as to say, “My dear sir, if you’ll put a +small copper in this small hand, we’ll retract all injurious +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_413" id="Page_413">[413]</a></span> +criticisms, and ever after regard you as a gentleman of +extraordinary personal beauty!” Somehow my hand +slipped unconsciously into my pocket, but, before handing +them the desired change, it occurred to me to secure +their likenesses for publication as a warning to the children +of all nations not to undertake a similar experiment +with any hope of success.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 385px;"> +<a name="faroese_children" id="faroese_children"></a> +<img src="images/thor063.png" width="385" height="500" +alt="A young girl and boy" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FAROESE CHILDREN.</p> + +<p>Thorshavn, so named after the old god Thor, is a small +town of some five or six hundred inhabitants, situated on +the southeastern side of the island of Stromoe. In front +lies a harbor, indifferently protected by a small island +and two rocky points. The anchorage is insecure at all +times, especially during the prevalence of southerly and +easterly gales, when it often becomes necessary to heave +up and put to sea; and the dense fogs by which the approach +to land is generally obscured render navigation +about these islands extremely perilous. Of the town of +Thorshavn little need be said. Its chief interest lies in +the almost primeval construction of the houses and the +rustic simplicity of its inhabitants. The few streets that +run between the straggling lines of sheds and sod-covered +huts scattered over the rocks are narrow and tortuous, +winding up steep, stony precipices, and into deep, +boggy hollows; around rugged points, and over scraggy +mounds of gravel and grit. The public edifices, consisting +of two or three small churches and the amtman’s +residence, are little better than martin-boxes. For some +reason best known to the people in these Northern +climes, they paint their houses black, except where the +roofs are covered with sod, which nature paints green. +I think it must be from some notion that it gives them a +cheerful aspect, though the darkness of the paint and the +chilly luxuriance of the green did not strike me with joyous +impressions. If Scotland can claim some advantages +as a place of residence for snails, Thorshavn must surely +be a paradise for toads accustomed to feed upon the +vapors of a dungeon. The wharves—loose masses of +rock at the boat-landing—are singularly luxuriant in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_414" id="Page_414"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_415" id="Page_415">[415]</a></span> +article of fish. Prodigious piles of fish lie about in every +direction. The shambling old store-houses are crammed +with fish, and the heads of fish and the back-bones of +fish lie bleaching on the rocks. The gravelly patches of +beach are slimy with the entrails of fresh fish, and the +air is foul with the odor of decayed fish. The boatmen +that lounge about waiting for a job are saturated with +fish inside and out—like their boats. The cats, crows, +and ravens mingle in social harmony over the dreadful +carnival of fish. In fine, the impression produced upon +the stranger who lands for the first time is that he has +accidentally turned up in some piscatorial hell, where the +tortures of skinning, drying, and disemboweling are performed +by the unrelenting hands of man.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="faroese_islanders" id="faroese_islanders"></a> +<img src="images/thor064.png" width="600" height="450" +alt="An older and younger man in a small shallow boat, the younger fending off from a rock" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FAROESE ISLANDERS.</p> + +<p>In addition to the standing population of Thorshavn, +the fortifications—an abandoned mud-bank, a flag-staff, +and a board shanty—are subject, in times of great public +peril, to be defended by a standing army and navy of +twenty-four soldiers, one small boat, one corporal, and +the governor of the islands, who takes the field himself +at the head of this bloody phalanx of Danes still reeking +with the gore of slaughtered fish. Upon the occasion +of the arrival of the <i>Arcturus</i>—the only steamer that ever +touches here—the principal amtman, upon perceiving +the vessel in the distance, immediately proceeds to organize +the army and navy for a grand display. First he +shaves and puts on his uniform; then calling together +the troops, who are also sailors, he carefully inspects +them, and selecting from the number the darkest, dirtiest, +and most bloody-looking, he causes them to buckle on +their swords. This done, he delivers a brief address, +recommending them to abstain from the use of schnapps +and other intoxicating beverages till the departure of +the steamer. The dignity of official position requires +that he should remain on shore for the space of one hour +after the dropping of the anchor. He then musters his +forces, marches them down to his war-skiff, from the +stern of which waves the Danish flag, and, placing an +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_416" id="Page_416">[416]</a></span> +oar in the hands of each man, he gives the order to advance +and board the steamer. On his arrival alongside +he touches his cap to the passengers in a grave and dignified +manner, and expresses a desire to see our commander, +Captain Andersen, who, during this period of the ceremony, +is down below, busily occupied in arranging the +brandy and crackers. The appearance of Captain Andersen +on deck is politely acknowledged by the amtman, +who thereupon orders his men to pull alongside, when +the two cabin-boys and the cook kindly assist him over +the gangway. Descending into the cabin, he carefully +examines the ship’s papers, pronounces them all right, +and joins Captain Andersen in a social “smile.” Then, +having delivered himself of the latest intelligence on the +subject of wool and codfish, he returns to his boat and +proceeds to his quarters on shore. All this is done with +a quiet and dignified formality both pleasing and impressive.</p> + +<p>As an illustration of the severity of the laws that govern +the Faroe Islands, and the upright and inexorable +character of the governor and principal amtman, I must +relate an incident that occurred under my own observation.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the <i>Arcturus</i> had cast anchor, the party +of British sportsmen already mentioned went ashore +with their dogs and guns, and began an indiscriminate +slaughter of all the game within two miles of Thorshavn, +consisting of three plovers, a snipe, and some half a dozen +sparrows. The captain had warned them that such +a proceeding was contrary to law, and a citizen of Thorshavn +had gently remonstrated with them as they passed +through the town. When the slaughter commenced, the +proprietors of the bog, in which the game abounded, +rushed to the doors of their cabins to see what was +going on, and perceiving that it was a party of Englishmen +engaged in the destructive pastime of firing shotguns +about and among the flocks of sheep that browsed +on the premises, they straightway laid a complaint before +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_417" id="Page_417">[417]</a></span> +the governor. The independent sons of Britain were +not to be baffled of their sport in this manner. They +cracked away as long as they pleased, by-Joved and +blawsted the island for not having more game, and then +came aboard. The steamer hove up anchor and sailed +that night. Nothing farther took place to admonish us +of the consequences of the trespass till our return from +Iceland, when the principal amtman came on board with +a formidable placard, neatly written, and translated into +the three court languages of the place—Danish, French, +and English. The contents of this document were as +follows: that whereas, in the year 1763, a law had been +passed for the protection of game on the Faroe Islands, +which law had not since been rescinded; and whereas +a subsequent law of 1786 had been passed for the protection +of sheep and other stock ranging at large on the +said islands, which law had not since been rescinded; +and whereas it had been represented to the governor of +the said islands that certain persons, supposed to be +Englishmen, had lately come on shore, armed with shotguns, +and, in violation of the said laws of the country, +had shot at, maimed, and killed several birds, and caused +serious apprehensions of injury to the flocks of sheep +which were peaceably grazing on their respective ranges; +now, therefore, this was earnestly to request that all such +persons would reflect upon the penalties that would attach +to similar acts in their own country, and be thus +enabled to perceive the impropriety of pursuing such a +course in other countries. Should they fail to observe +the aforesaid laws after this warning, they would only +have themselves to blame for the unpleasant consequences +that must assuredly ensue, etc., etc. [Officially signed +and sealed.]</p> + +<p>Great formality was observed in carrying this important +document on board. It was neatly folded and carefully +done up, with various seals and blue ribbons, in a +package about six inches wide by eighteen in length, and +was guarded by the select half of the Faroese army and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_418" id="Page_418">[418]</a></span> +navy, being exactly twelve men, and delivered by the +amtman of the island with a few appropriate and impressive +remarks, after which it was hung up over the cabin +gangway by the captain as a solemn warning to all future +passengers. There can be no doubt that it produced +the most salutary effects upon the sporting gentlemen. +I was really glad the affair had taken place, as it +evidently afforded his excellency a favorable opportunity +of promulgating a most excellent state paper, cautiously +conceived and judiciously worded. The preparation +of it must have occupied his time advantageously to himself +and his country during the entire period of our absence.</p> + +<p>I must now turn back a little to say that, while my +comrades were engaged in their unlawful work of killing +the sparrows and frightening the sheep, I deemed it a +matter of personal safety to keep out of range of their +guns. Apart from the danger of arrest, the probable +loss of an eye or disfigurement of some ornamental feature +was a sufficient consideration to satisfy me of the +policy of this course.</p> + +<p>Taking a path across the rugged desert of rocks and +bogs, extending for some miles back of Thorshavn, I +quickly began to ascend a barren range of hills, abounding +in greenstone trap-rock and zoolites, from the summit +of which there is a magnificent view of the whole +surrounding country, with glimpses of the cloud-capped +summits of the neighboring islands. Beautiful little valleys, +dotted with the sod-covered huts of the shepherds +and fishermen, sweep down to the water’s edge a thousand +feet below; weird black bogs, and fields of scoria +and burned earth, lie on the slopes of the distant hills to +the right; and to the left are rugged cliffs, jutting out +of the sea like huge castles, around which myriads of +birds continually hover, piercing the air with their wild +screams. The wind blew in such fierce gusts over the +bleak and desolate range of crags on which I stood that +I was glad enough to seek shelter down on the leeside.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_419" id="Page_419">[419]</a></span> +It now occurred to me to go in search of a ruined +church of which I had read in some traveler’s journal +said to be within four or five miles of Thorshavn. Some +artificial piles of stones, near the ledge upon which I had +descended, indicated the existence of a trail. On my +way down, a legion of birds, about the size of puffins, began +to gather around, with fierce cries and warning motions, +as if determined to dispute my progress. They +flew backward and forward within a few feet of my head, +flapping their wings furiously, and uttering the most terrific +cries of rage and alarm, so that I was sorely puzzled +to know what was the matter. It was not long before +I came upon some of their nests, which of course explained +the difficulty. Having no immediate use for eggs +or feathers, I left the nests unmolested and proceeded on +my way. In about an hour I came suddenly upon a small +green valley that lay some five hundred feet below, directly +on the water’s edge. By some mischance I had +lost the trail, and, in order to descend, was obliged to +slide and scramble down the cliffs—an experiment that +I presently discovered would probably cost me a broken +neck if persisted in; for when there seemed to be no farther +obstruction, I came all at once upon a precipice at +least sixty feet deep, without a single foothold or other +means of descent than a clear jump to the bottom. Not +disposed to follow the example of Sam Patch on dry land, +I reluctantly turned back. By dint of scrambling and +climbing, and slipping down various cliffs and slopes, I +at length reached a point from which I had a view of +some ruins and farm-houses still some distance below. +Following the line of the regular trail till it struck into +the cliffs, I had no farther difficulty in reaching the valley.</p> + +<p>The good people at the farm-house—a family by the +name of Petersen—received me in the kindest manner, +with many expressions of wonder at the risk I had run +in crossing the mountain without a guide. It was with +considerable difficulty we made ourselves understood. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_420" id="Page_420">[420]</a></span> +None of the family spoke any language except their own. +The son, indeed, a fine young man of twenty, understood +a few words of English, but that was all. There is +something, nevertheless, in genuine kindness and hospitality +that makes itself intelligible without the aid of +language. I was immediately invited into the house, +and while young Petersen entertained me with old prints +and Faroese books, his mother prepared an excellent +lunch. Tired and worried after my trip, I could offer +no objection. Never shall I forget the coffee and cream, +and the butter and bread, and delicate fruit-tarts placed +on the nice white table-cloth by the good Mrs. Petersen. +I ate and drank, and glowed all over with a childlike +relish of the good things, while the whole family gathered +round and tried to make me understand that they +had a relative in California, who lived in the mines at a +place called Six-mile-bar, and that they were glad to see +a Californian, and wanted to know all about California. +It is wonderful with how few words we can communicate +our ideas when necessity compels us to depend +upon our ingenuity. Before I had parted from that +family the whole matter was perfectly explained; the +history of their absent relative was quite clear to me, and +they had a very fair conception of the kind of country +in which he lived. Upon no consideration would they +receive compensation for the lunch, and they even seemed +offended when I endeavored to press it upon them. +This, from people whom I had never seen before—a plain +country family living in a wilderness where such luxuries +as sugar and coffee could only be had at considerable +expense—was absolutely refreshing. For the first +time since my arrival in Europe, after having traversed +the whole Continent, I had encountered a specimen of +the human race capable of refusing money. Subsequently +I learned that this was the common practice in the +Faroe Islands. The poorest shepherd freely offers to +the stranger the hospitality of his hut; and it is a creed +among these worthy people not to accept pay for coffee +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_421" id="Page_421"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_422" id="Page_422">[422]</a></span> +and bread, or indeed any thing else they may have to +offer in the way of entertainment. My fellow-passengers +were similarly treated in Thorshavn, where visitors are +more frequent and the customs of the country less primitive.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="kirk_goboe" id="kirk_goboe"></a> +<img src="images/thor065.png" width="600" height="453" +alt="A white-painted church with a small steeple-topped tower at one end" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">KIRK GÖBOE.</p> + +<p>The great object of interest at Kirk Göboe is the ancient +church, from which the place derives its name; a +long, low stone building, whitewashed and covered with +a sod roof, but, owing to repeated repairs, now presenting +no particular traces of antiquity, although reported +to have been built in the eighth century. I have no +data in reference to this interesting relic, and am not +aware that antiquarians have ever attempted to trace +out its origin. The probability is that it was built by +some of those Culdee anchorites of whom Dasent speaks +as the first settlers of Iceland.</p> + +<p>The interior of the church contains an altar, and some +wooden carvings on the head-boards of the pews, evidently +of great antiquity. It is impossible to conjecture +from their appearance whether they are five hundred or +a thousand years old—at least without more research +than a casual tourist can bestow upon them.</p> + +<p>There is also within a few steps of the farm-house a +much larger and more picturesque ruin of a church, built +in a later style of architecture. The only information I +could get about this ruin was that it dates back as far +as the fifteenth century. The walls are of rough stone +well put together, and now stand roofless and moss-covered, +inhabited only by crows and swallows. The doors +and windows are in the Gothic style. A sketch made +from the door of the old church first mentioned, embracing +the residence of the Petersen family, with a glimpse +of the cliffs and rugged ledges behind upon which their +flocks graze, will give the best idea of the whole premises.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="farm_house_and_ruins" id="farm_house_and_ruins"></a> +<img src="images/thor066.png" width="600" height="447" +alt="A wooden farm-house built next to the stone ruins of a much larger building" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FARM-HOUSE AND RUINS.</p> + +<p>Having thus pleasantly occupied a few hours at Kirk +Göboe, I bade adieu to the worthy family who had so +hospitably entertained me, and was about to set out for +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_423" id="Page_423"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_424" id="Page_424">[424]</a></span> +Thorshavn, when young Petersen, not content with the +directions he had given me, announced his intention of +seeing me safe over the mountain. In vain I assured him +that, however pleasant his company would be, I had no +apprehension of losing the way this time. Go he would, +and go he did; and when we parted on the top of the +mountain, in plain sight of Thorshavn, he cordially shook +me by the hand, and said many kind words, which I could +only interpret to mean that he and all his kith and kin +wished me a pleasant voyage to Iceland, and many years +of health and happiness.</p> + +<p>When I now recall the fine, intelligent face of this +young man, his bright dark eyes, healthy complexion, +and strong, well-knit frame, the latent energy in all his +movements, the genial simplicity of his manners, and his +evident thirst for knowledge, I can not help feeling something +akin to regret that so much good material should +be wasted in the obscurity of a shepherd’s life. So gifted +by nature, what might not such a youth achieve in an +appropriate sphere of action? And yet, perhaps, it is +better for him that he should spend his life among the +barren cliffs of Stromoe, with no more companions than +his dog and his sheep, than jostle among men in the +great outer world, to learn at last the bitter lesson that +the eye is not satisfied with riches, nor the understanding +with knowledge.</p> + +<p>On the way down to the Valley of Thorshavn I met a +man mounted on a shaggy little monster, which in almost +any other country would have been mistaken for a species +of sheep. As this was a fair specimen of a Faroese horse +and his rider, I sat down on a rock after they had passed +and took the best view of them I could get.</p> + +<p>Late in the afternoon the scattered passengers were +gathered together, and the good people of Thorshavn +came down to the wharf to bid us farewell. In half an +hour more we were all on board. “Up anchor!” was +the order, and once more we went steaming on our way.</p> + +<p>Short as our sojourn had been among these primitive +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_425" id="Page_425">[425]</a></span> +people, it furnished us with many pleasant reminiscences. +Their genial hospitality and simple good-nature, together +with their utter ignorance of the outer world, formed the +theme of various amusing anecdotes during the remainder +of the passage. Favored by a southerly wind and a +stock of good coal, we made the southeastern point of +Iceland in a little over two days from Thorshavn.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 405px;"> +<a name="faroese_on_horseback" id="faroese_on_horseback"></a> +<img src="images/thor067.png" width="405" height="500" +alt="A man, his feet nearly touching the floor, riding a very small pony" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FAROESE ON HORSEBACK.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_426" id="Page_426">[426]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLII" id="CHAPTER_XLII"></a>CHAPTER XLII.</h2> + +<h3>FIRST IMPRESSIONS OF ICELAND.</h3> + + +<p>It would be difficult to conceive any thing more impressive +than this first view of the land of snow and fire. +A low stretch of black boggy coast to the right; dark +cliffs of lava in front; far in the background, range after +range of bleak, snow-capped mountains, the fiery Jokuls +dimly visible through drifting masses of fog; to the left +a broken wall of red, black, and blue rocks, weird and +surf-beaten, stretching as far as the eye could reach—this +was Iceland! All along the grim rifted coast the +dread marks of fire, and flood, and desolation were visible. +Detached masses of lava, gnarled and scraggy like +huge clinkers, seemed tossed out into the sea; towers, +buttresses, and battlements, shaped by the very elements +of destruction, reared their stern crests against the waves; +glaciers lay glittering upon the blackened slopes behind; +and foaming torrents of snow-water burst through the +rifted crags in front, and mingled their rage with the +wild rage of the surf—all was battle, and ruin, and desolation.</p> + +<p>As we approached the point called Portland, a colossal +bridge opened into view, so symmetrical in its outline +that it was difficult to believe it was not of artificial construction. +The arch is about fifty feet high by thirty in +width, and affords shelter to innumerable flocks of birds, +whose nests are built in the crevices underneath. Solan-geese, +eider-ducks, and sea-gulls cover the dizzy heights +overhead, and whales have been known to pass through +the passage below. Great numbers of blackfish and porpoises +abound in this vicinity. From time to time, as +we swept along on our way, we could discern a lonesome +hut high up on the shore, with a few sheep and cattle +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_427" id="Page_427"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_428" id="Page_428">[428]</a></span> +on the slopes of the adjacent hills, but for the most +part the coast was barren and desolate.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="natural_bridge" id="natural_bridge"></a> +<img src="images/thor068.png" width="600" height="307" +alt="A natural stone arch formed by erosion from the sea" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">NATURAL BRIDGE.</p> + +<p>Early on the following morning the sun-capped peaks +of Mount Hecla were visible. There has been no eruption +from this mountain since 1845. The principal crater +lies 5210 feet above the level of the sea, and is distant +fifteen miles from the shore.</p> + +<p>Toward noon we made the Westmann Isles, a small +rocky group some ten miles distant from the main island. +A fishing and trading establishment, owned by a company +of Danes, is located on one of these islands. The +<i>Arcturus</i> touches twice a year to deliver and receive a +mail. On the occasion of our visit, a boat came out with +a hardy-looking crew of Danes to receive the mail-bag. +It was doubtless a matter of great rejoicing to them to +obtain news from home. I had barely time to make a +rough outline of the islands as we lay off the settlement.</p> + +<p>The chief interest attached to the Westmann group is, +that it is supposed to have been visited by Columbus in +1477, fifteen years prior to his voyage of discovery to +the shores of America. It is now generally conceded +that the Icelanders were the original discoverers of the +American continent. Recent antiquarian researches tend +to establish the fact that they had advanced as far to the +southward as Massachusetts in the tenth century. They +held colonies on the coasts of Greenland and Labrador, +and must have had frequent intercourse with the Indians +farther south. Columbus in all probability obtained +some valuable data from these hardy adventurers. The +date of his visit to Iceland is well authenticated by Beamish, +Rafn, and other eminent writers on the early discoveries +of the Northmen.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="coast_of_iceland" id="coast_of_iceland"></a> +<img src="images/thor069.png" width="600" height="448" +alt="Strangely shaped rocks protrude from turbulent waves" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">COAST OF ICELAND.</p> + +<p>Nothing could surpass the desolate grandeur of the +coast as we approached the point of Reykjaness. It was +of an almost infernal blackness. The whole country +seemed uptorn, rifted, shattered, and scattered about in +a vast chaos of ruin. Huge cliffs of lava split down to +their bases toppled over the surf. Rocks of every +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_429" id="Page_429"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_430" id="Page_430">[430]</a></span> +conceivable shape, scorched and blasted with fire, wrested +from the main and hurled into the sea, battled with the +waves, their black scraggy points piercing the mist like +giant hands upthrown to smite or sink in a fierce death-struggle. +The wild havoc wrought in the conflict of +elements was appalling. Birds screamed over the fearful +wreck of matter. The surf from the inrolling waves +broke against the charred and shattered desert of ruin +with a terrific roar. Columns of spray shot up over the +blackened fragments of lava, while in every opening the +lashed waters, discolored by the collision, seethed and +surged as in a huge caldron. Verily there is One whose +“fury is poured out like fire; the rocks are thrown down +by him; the mountains quake, and the hills melt, and the +earth is burned at his presence.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="the_meal_sack" id="the_meal_sack"></a> +<img src="images/thor070.png" width="400" height="275" +alt="A sack shaped rock, waves breaking at its base" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE MEAL-SACK.</p> + +<p>Passing a singular rock standing alone some twenty +miles off the land, called the <i>Meal-sack</i>, we soon changed +our course and bore up for the harbor of Reykjavik. By +the time we reached the anchorage our voyage from +Thorshavn had occupied exactly three days and six hours.</p> + +<p>Trusting that the reader will pardon me for the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_431" id="Page_431">[431]</a></span> +frequent delays to which I have subjected him since we +joined our fortunes at Copenhagen, I shall now proceed +to the important labors of the enterprise with this solemn +understanding—that the journey before us is pretty +rough, and the prospect is strong that, in our random +dash at the wonders of Iceland, we will encounter some +perilous adventures by flood and field; but if I don’t carry +him safely and satisfactorily through them all, he must +console himself by the reflection that many a good man +has been sacrificed in the pursuit of knowledge, and that +he will suffer in excellent company.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIII" id="CHAPTER_XLIII"></a>CHAPTER XLIII.</h2> + +<h3>REYKJAVIK, THE CAPITAL OF ICELAND.</h3> + + +<p>My first view of the capital of Iceland was through a +chilling rain. A more desolate-looking place I had rarely +if ever seen, though, like Don Quixote’s market-woman +on the ass, it was susceptible of improvement under the +influence of an ardent imagination. As a subject for the +pencil of an artist, it was at least peculiar, if not picturesque. +A tourist whose glowing fancies had not been +nipped in the bud by the vigors of an extended experience +might have been able to invest it with certain weird +charms, but to me it was only the fag-end of civilization, +abounding in horrible odors of decayed polypi and dried +fish. A cutting wind from the distant Jokuls and a +searching rain did not tend to soften the natural asperities +of its features. In no point of view did it impress +me as a cheerful place of residence except for wild ducks +and sea-gulls. The whole country for miles around is a +black desert of bogs and lava. Scarcely an arable spot +is to be seen save on the tops of the fishermen’s huts, +where the sod produces an abundance of grass and weeds. +A dark gravelly slope in front of the town, dotted with +boats, oars, nets, and piles of fish; a long row of shambling +old store-houses built of wood, and painted a dismal +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_432" id="Page_432"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_433" id="Page_433">[433]</a></span> +black, varied by patches of dirty yellow; a general hodge-podge +of frame shanties behind, constructed of old boards +and patched up with drift-wood; a few straggling streets, +paved with broken lava and reeking with offal from the +doors of the houses; some dozens of idle citizens and +drunken boatmen lounging around the grog-shops; a gang +of women, brawny and weather-beaten, carrying loads +of codfish down to the landing; a drove of shaggy little +ponies, each tied to the tail of the pony in front; a pack +of mangy dogs prowling about in dirty places looking +for something to eat, and fighting when they got it—this +was all I could see of Reykjavik, the famous Icelandic +capital.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="reykjavik_the_capital_of_iceland" id="reykjavik_the_capital_of_iceland"></a> +<img src="images/thor071.png" width="600" height="431" +alt="Boats are drawn up on the beach, the town nearby, mountains in the distance" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">REYKJAVIK, THE CAPITAL OF ICELAND.</p> + +<p>The town lies on a strip of land between the harbor +and a lagoon in the rear. It is said to contain a population +of two thousand, and if the dogs and fleas be taken +into consideration, I have no doubt it does. Where two +thousand human beings can stow themselves in a place +containing but one hotel, and that a very poor one, is a +matter of wonder to the stranger. The houses generally +are but one story high, and seldom contain more than +two or three rooms. Some half a dozen stores, it is true, +of better appearance than the average, have been built +by the Danish merchants within the past few years; and +the residence of the governor and the public University +are not without some pretensions to style.</p> + +<p>The only stone building in Reykjavik of any importance +is the “Cathedral;” so called, perhaps, more in +honor of its great antiquity than any thing imposing +about its style or dimensions. At present it shows no +indications of age, having been patched, plastered, and +painted into quite a neat little church of modern appearance.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="governors_residence_reykjavik" id="governors_residence_reykjavik"></a> +<img src="images/thor072.png" width="600" height="458" +alt="A large white-painted wooden house, with neat lawns in front" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GOVERNOR’S RESIDENCE, REYKJAVIK.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="icelandic_houses" id="icelandic_houses"></a> +<img src="images/thor073.png" width="600" height="457" +alt="A cluster of small, rough sod-covered houses" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ICELANDIC HOUSES.</p> + +<p>At each end of the town is a small gathering of sod-covered +huts, where the fishermen and their families live +like rabbits in a burrow. That these poor people are +not all devoured by snails or crippled with rheumatism +is a marvel to any stranger who takes a peep into their +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_434" id="Page_434"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_435" id="Page_435"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_436" id="Page_436">[436]</a></span> +filthy and cheerless little cabins. The oozy slime of fish +and smoke mingles with the green mould of the rocks; +barnacles cover the walls, and puddles make a soft carpeting +for the floors. The earth is overhead, and their +heads are under the earth, and the light of day has no +light job of it to get in edgewise, through the windows. +The beaver-huts and badger-holes of California, taking +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_437" id="Page_437">[437]</a></span> +into consideration the difference of climate, are palatial +residences compared with the dismal hovels of these Icelandic +fishermen. At a short distance they look for all +the world like mounds in a grave-yard. The inhabitants, +worse off than the dead, are buried alive. No gardens, +no cultivated patches, no attempt at any thing ornamental +relieves the dreary monotony of the premises. Dark +patches of lava, all littered with the heads and entrails +of fish; a pile of turf from some neighboring bog; a rickety +shed in which the fish are hung up to dry; a gang +of wolfish-looking curs, horribly lean and voracious; a +few prowling cats, and possibly a chicken deeply depressed +in spirits—these are the most prominent objects visible +in the vicinity. Sloth and filth go hand in hand.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 396px;"> +<a name="church_at_reykjavik" id="church_at_reykjavik"></a> +<img src="images/thor074.png" width="396" height="500" +alt="A stone church with a small roof tower at one end" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">CHURCH AT REYKJAVIK.</p> + +<p>The women are really the only class of inhabitants, +except the fleas, who possess any vitality. Rude, slatternly, +and ignorant as they are, they still evince some +sign of life and energy compared with the men. Overtaxed +by domestic cares, they go down upon the wharves +when a vessel comes in, and by hard labor earn enough +to purchase a few rags of clothing for their children. +The men are too lazy even to carry the fish out of their +own boats. At home they lie about the doors, smoking +and gossiping, and too often drunk. Some are too lazy +to get drunk, and go to sleep over the effort. In truth, +the prevailing indolence among all classes is so striking +that one can almost imagine himself in a Southern clime. +There is much about Reykjavik to remind a Californian +traveler of San Diego. The drunken fellows about the +stores, and the racing of horses up and down the streets, +under the stimulus of liquor rather than natural energy, +sometimes made me feel quite at home.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="icelanders_at_work" id="icelanders_at_work"></a> +<img src="images/thor075.png" width="600" height="466" +alt="Two women carry a pallet of fish, while a man leans against a wall and smokes a pipe" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ICELANDERS AT WORK.</p> + +<p>On the morning after my arrival I called to see my +young friend Jonasen, the governor’s son, and was most +hospitably entertained by the family. I had a letter of +introduction to the governor from the Minister of the +Judiciary at Copenhagen, but thought it unnecessary to +present it. His excellency is a good specimen of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_438" id="Page_438"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_439" id="Page_439">[439]</a></span> +better class of Icelanders—simple, kind-hearted, and polite. +My casual acquaintance with his son was sufficient +to enlist his warmest sympathies. I thought he would +destroy his equilibrium as well as my own by repeatedly +drinking my health and wishing me a hearty welcome +to Iceland. He said he had never seen a Californian before, +and seemed astonished to find that they had noses, +mouths, ears, and skins like other people. In one respect +he paid me a practical compliment that I have rarely +enjoyed in the course of my travels—he spoke nearly +as bad French as I did. Now I take it that a man who +speaks bad French, after years of travel on the Continent +of Europe, is worthy of some consideration. He is +at least entitled to the distinction of having well preserved +his nationality; and when any foreigner tries to +speak it worse, but doesn’t succeed, I can not but regard +it as a tribute of respect.</p> + +<p>Young Jonasen, I was glad to see, had gotten over +his struggle with the sardines, and was now in a fair way +to enjoy life. His sister, Miss Jonasen, is a very charming +young lady, well educated and intelligent. She +speaks English quite fluently, and does the honors of the +executive mansion with an easy grace scarcely to be expected +in this remote part of the world. Both are natives +of Iceland.</p> + +<p>I should be sorry to be understood as intimating, in +my brief sketch of Reykjavik, that it is destitute of refined +society. There are families of as cultivated manners +here as in any other part of the world; and on the +occasion of a ball or party, a stranger would be surprised +at the display of beauty and style. The University and +public library attract students from all parts of the island, +and several of the professors and literary men have obtained +a European reputation. Two semi-monthly newspapers +are published at Reykjavik, in the Icelandic language. +They are well printed, and said to be edited with +ability. I looked over them very carefully from beginning +to end, and could see nothing to object to in any +portion of the contents.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_440" id="Page_440">[440]</a></span></p> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIV" id="CHAPTER_XLIV"></a>CHAPTER XLIV.</h2> + +<h3>GEIR ZÖEGA.</h3> + + +<p>Wishing to see as much of the island as possible during +the short time at my disposal, I made application to +young Jonasen for information in regard to a guide, and +through his friendly aid secured the services of Geir +Zöega, a man of excellent reputation.</p> + +<p>A grave, dignified man is Geir Zöega, large of frame +and strong of limb; a light-haired, blue-eyed, fresh, honest-faced +native, warm of heart and trusty of hand; a +jewel of a guide, who knows every rook, bog, and mud-puddle +between Reykjavik and the Geysers; a gentleman +by nature, born in all probability of an iceberg and +a volcano; a believer in ghosts and ghouls, and a devout +member of the Church. All hail to thee, Geir Zöega! +I have traveled many a rough mile with thee, used up +thy brandy and smoked thy cigars, covered my chilled +body with thy coat, listened to thy words of comfort +pronounced in broken English, received thy last kind +wishes at parting, and now I say, in heartfelt sincerity, +all hail to thee, Geir Zöega! A better man never lived, +or if he did, he could be better spared at Reykjavik.</p> + +<p>To my great discontent, I found it indispensable to +have five horses, although I proposed making the trip +entirely without baggage. It seemed that two were +necessary for myself, two for the guide, and one to carry +the provisions and tent, without which it would be +very difficult to travel, since there are no hotels in any +part of the interior. Lodgings may be had at the huts +of the peasants, and such rude fare as they can furnish; +but the tourist had better rely upon his own tent and +provisions, unless he has a craving to be fed on black +bread and curds, and to be buried alive under a dismal +pile of sods.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_441" id="Page_441">[441]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 421px;"> +<a name="geir_zoega" id="geir_zoega"></a> +<img src="images/thor076.png" width="421" height="500" +alt="The guide readies one of the pack horses for the trip" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GEIR ZÖEGA.</p> + +<p>The reason why so many horses are required is plain +enough. At this time of the year (June) they are still +very poor after their winter’s starvation, the pasturage +is not yet good, and, in order to make a rapid journey +of any considerable length, frequent changes are necessary. +Philosophy and humanity combined to satisfy me +that the trip could not well be made with a smaller number. +I was a little inquisitive on that point, partly on +the score of expense, and partly on account of the delay +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_442" id="Page_442">[442]</a></span> +and trouble that might arise in taking care of so many +animals.</p> + +<p>If there is any one trait common among all the nations +of the earth, it is a natural sharpness in the traffic of +horse-flesh. My experience has been wonderfully uniform +in this respect wherever it has been my fortune to +travel. I have had the misfortune to be the victim of +horse-jockeys in Syria, Africa, Russia, Norway, and even +California, where the people are proverbially honest. I +have weighed the horse-jockeys of the four continents in +the balance, and never found them wanting in natural +shrewdness. It is a mistake, however, to call them unprincipled. +They are men of most astonishing tenacity +of principle, but unfortunately they have but one governing +principle in life—to get good prices for bad horses.</p> + +<p>On the arrival of the steamer at Reykjavik the competition +among the horse-traders is really the only lively +feature in the place. Immediately after the passengers +get ashore they are beset by offers of accommodation in +the line of horse-flesh. Vagabonds and idlers of every +kind, if they possess nothing else in the world, are at +least directly or indirectly interested in this species of +property. The roughest specimens of humanity begin +to gather in from the country around the corners of the +streets near the hotel, with all the worn-out, lame, halt, +blind, and spavined horses that can be raked up by hook +or crook in the neighborhood. Such a medley was never +seen in any other country. Barnum’s woolly horse +was nothing to these shaggy, stunted, raw-backed, bow-legged, +knock-kneed little monsters, offered to the astonished +traveler with unintelligible pedigrees in the Icelandic, +which, if literally translated, must surely mean +that they are a mixed product of codfish and brushwood. +The size has but little to do with the age, and all rules +applicable as a test in other parts of the world fail here. +I judged some of them to be about four months old, and +was not at all astonished when informed by disinterested +spectators that they ranged from twelve to fifteen years. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_443" id="Page_443"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_444" id="Page_444">[444]</a></span> +Nothing, in fact, could astonish me after learning that +the horses in Iceland are fed during the winter on dried +fish. This is a literal fact. Owing to the absence of +grain and the scarcity of grass, it becomes necessary to +keep life in the poor animals during the severest months +of the season by giving them the refuse of the fisheries; +and, what is very surprising, they relish it in preference +to any other species of food. Shade of Ceres! what an +article of diet for horses! Only think of it—riding on +the back of a horse partly constructed of fish! No wonder +some of them blow like whales.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="icelandic_horses" id="icelandic_horses"></a> +<img src="images/thor077.png" width="600" height="450" +alt="The guide with four horses, not yet loaded with equipment and supplies" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ICELANDIC HORSES.</p> + +<p>In one respect the traveler can not be cheated to any +great extent; he can not well lose more than twelve +specie dollars on any one horse, that being the average +price. To do the animals justice, they are like singed +cats—a great deal better than they look. If they are +not much for beauty, they are at least hardy, docile, and +faithful; and, what is better, in a country where forage +is sometimes difficult to find, will eat any thing on the +face of the earth short of very hard lava or very indigestible +trap-rock. Many of them, in consequence of +these valuable qualities, are exported every year to Scotland +and Copenhagen for breeding purposes. Two vessels +were taking in cargoes of them during our stay at +Reykjavik.</p> + +<p>I was saved the trouble of bargaining for my animals +by Geir Zöega, who agreed to furnish me with the necessary +number at five Danish dollars apiece the round +trip; that is, about two dollars and a half American, +which was not at all unreasonable. For his own services +he only charged a dollar a day, with whatever <i>buono +mano</i> I might choose to give him. These items I mention +for the benefit of my friends at home who may take +a notion to make the trip.</p> + +<p>I was anxious to get off at once, but the horses were +in the country and had to be brought up. Two days +were lost in consequence of the heavy rains, and the trail +was said to be in very bad condition. On the morning +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_445" id="Page_445">[445]</a></span> +of the third day all was to be ready; and having purchased +a few pounds of crackers, half a pound of tea, some +sugar and cheese, I was prepared to encounter the perils +of the wilderness. This was all the provision I took. Of +other baggage I had none, save my overcoat and sketch-book, +which, for a journey of five days, did not seem unreasonable. +Zöega promised me any amount of suffering; +but I told him Californians rather enjoyed that sort +of thing than otherwise.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLV" id="CHAPTER_XLV"></a>CHAPTER XLV.</h2> + +<h3>THE ENGLISH TOURISTS.</h3> + + +<p>My English friends were so well provided with funds +and equipments that they found it impossible to get +ready. They had patent tents, sheets, bedsteads, mattresses, +and medicine-boxes. They had guns, too, in handsome +gun-cases; and compasses, and chronometers, and +pocket editions of the poets. They had portable kitchens +packed in tin boxes, which they emptied out, but +never could get in again, comprising a general assortment +of pots, pans, kettles, skillets, frying-pans, knives +and forks, and pepper-castors. They had demijohns of +brandy and kegs of Port wine; baskets of bottled porter +and a dozen of Champagne; vinegar by the gallon +and French mustard in patent pots; likewise collodium +for healing bruises, and musquito-nets for keeping out +snakes. They had improved oil-lamps to assist the daylight +which prevails in this latitude during the twenty-four +hours, and shaving apparatus and nail-brushes, and +cold cream for cracked lips, and dentifrice for the teeth, +and patent preparations for the removal of dandruff from +the hair; likewise lint and splints for mending broken +legs. One of them carried a theodolite for drawing inaccessible +mountains within a reasonable distance; another +a photographic apparatus for taking likenesses of +the natives and securing fac-similes of the wild beasts; +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_446" id="Page_446">[446]</a></span> +while a third was provided with a brass thief-defender +for running under doors and keeping them shut against +persons of evil character. They had bags, boxes, and +bales of crackers, preserved meats, vegetables, and pickles; +jellies and sweet-cake; concentrated coffee, and a +small apparatus for the manufacture of ice-cream. In +addition to all these, they had patent overcoats and undercoats, +patent hats and patent boots, gum-elastic bed-covers, +and portable gutta-percha floors for tents; ropes, +cords, horse-shoes, bits, saddles and bridles, bags of oats, +fancy packs for horses, and locomotive pegs for hanging +guns on, besides many other articles commonly deemed +useful in foreign countries by gentlemen of the British +Islands who go abroad to rough it. This was roughing +it with a vengeance! It would surely be rough work +for me, an uncivilized Californian, to travel in Iceland or +any other country under such a dreadful complication of +conveniences.</p> + +<p>When all these things were unpacked and scattered +over the beds and floors of the hotel, nothing could excel +the enthusiasm of the whole party—including myself, +for I really had seen nothing in the course of my +travels half so amusing. As an old stager in the camping +business, I was repeatedly appealed to for advice and +assistance, which of course I gave with the natural politeness +belonging to all Californians, suggesting many +additions. Warming-pans for the sheets, pads of eider-down +to wear on the saddles, and bathing-tubs to sit in +after a hard ride, would, I thought, be an improvement; +but as such things were difficult to be had in Reykjavik, +the hope of obtaining them was abandoned after some +consideration. “In fact,” said they, “we are merely +roughing it, and, by Jove, a fellow must put up with +some inconveniences in a country like this!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="english_party_at_reykjavik" id="english_party_at_reykjavik"></a> +<img src="images/thor078.png" width="600" height="454" +alt="The English tourists inspect horses" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ENGLISH PARTY AT REYKJAVIK.</p> + +<p>To carry all these burdens, which, when tied up in +packs, occupied an extra room, required exactly eighteen +horses, inclusive of the riders, and to bargain for eighteen +horses was no small job. The last I saw of the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_447" id="Page_447"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_448" id="Page_448">[448]</a></span> +Englishmen they were standing in the street surrounded by +a large portion of the population of Reykjavik, who had +every possible variety of horses to sell—horses shaggy +and horses shaved, horses small and horses smaller, into +the mouths of which the sagacious travelers were intently +peering in search of teeth—occasionally punching +the poor creatures on the ribs, probing their backs, pulling +them up by the legs, or tickling them under the tail +to ascertain if they kicked.</p> + +<p>At the appointed hour, 6 A.M., Zöega was ready at +the door of the hotel with his shaggy cavalcade, which +surely was the most extraordinary spectacle I had ever +witnessed. The horned horses of Africa would have +been commonplace objects in comparison with these remarkable +animals destined to carry me to the Geysers +of Iceland. Each one of them looked at me through a +stack of mane containing hair enough to have stuffed +half a dozen chairs; and as for their tails, they hung +about the poor creatures like huge bunches of wool. +Some of them were piebald and had white eyes—others +had no eyes at all. Seeing me look at them rather apprehensively, +Zöega remarked,</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir, you needn’t be afraid. They are perfectly +gentle!”</p> + +<p>“Don’t they bite?” said I.</p> + +<p>“Oh no, sir, not at all.”</p> + +<p>“Nor kick?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, never.”</p> + +<p>“Nor lie down on the way?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, not at all.”</p> + +<p>“Answer me one more question, Zöega, and I’m done.” +[This I said with great earnestness.] “Do these horses +ever eat cats or porcupines, or swallow heavy brooms +with crooked handles?”</p> + +<p>“Oh no, sir!” answered my guide, with a look of some +surprise; “they are too well trained for that.”</p> + +<p>“Then I suppose they subsist on train-oil as well as +codfish?”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_449" id="Page_449">[449]</a></span> +“Yes, sir, when they can get it. They are very fond +of oil.”</p> + +<p>I thought to myself, No wonder they are so poor and +small. Horses addicted to the use of oil must expect to +be of light construction. But it was time to be off.</p> + +<p>A cup of excellent coffee and a few biscuit were amply +sufficient to prepare me for the journey. Our pack-horse +carried two boxes and a small tent—all we required. +Before starting Zöega performed the Icelandic ceremony +of tying the horses in a row, each one’s head to the tail +of the horse in front. This, he said, was the general +practice. If it were not done they would scatter outside +of town, and it would probably take two hours to +catch them again. I had some fear that if one of the +number should tumble over a precipice he would carry +several of his comrades with him, or their heads and tails.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVI" id="CHAPTER_XLVI"></a>CHAPTER XLVI.</h2> + +<h3>THE ROAD TO THINGVALLA.</h3> + + +<p>It was a gray, gloomy morning when we sallied forth +from the silent streets of Reykjavik. A chilly fog covered +the country, and little more was to be seen than +the jagged outline of the lava-hills, and the boggy sinks +and morasses on either side of the trail. The weird, fire-blasted, +and flood-scourged wilderness on all sides was +as silent as death, save when we approached some dark +lagoon, and startled up the flocks of water-fowl that +dwelt in its sedgy borders. Then the air was pierced +with wild screams and strange cries, and the rocks resounded +to the flapping of many wings. To me there +was a peculiar charm in all this. It was different from +any thing I had recently experienced. The roughness +of the trail, the absence of cultivated fields, the entire +exemption from the restraints of civilization, were perfectly +delightful after a dreary residence of nearly a year +in Germany. Here, at least, there were no passport +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_450" id="Page_450">[450]</a></span> +bureaus, no meddlesome police, no conceited and disagreeable +habitués of public places with fierce dogs running +at their heels, no <i>Verbotener Wegs</i> staring one in the +face at every turn. Here all ways possible to be traveled +were open to the public; here was plenty of fresh air +and no lack of elbow-room; here an unsophisticated +American could travel without being persecuted every +ten minutes by applications from distinguished officers +in livery for six kreutzers; here an honest Californian +could chew tobacco when he felt disposed, and relieve +his mind by an occasional oath when he considered it +essential to a vigorous expression of his thoughts.</p> + +<p>It seemed very strange to be traveling in Iceland, actually +plodding my way over deserts of lava, and breathing +blasts of air fresh from the summit of Mount Hecla! +I was at last in the land of the Sagas—the land of fire, +and brimstone, and boiling fountains!—the land which, +as a child, I had been accustomed to look upon as the +<i>ultima Thule</i>, where men, and fish, and fire, and water +were pitted against each other in everlasting strife. How +often had the fascinating vision of Icelandic travel crossed +my mind; and how often had I dismissed it with a +sigh as too much happiness to hope for in this world! +And now it was all realized. Was I any the happier? +Was it what I expected? Well, we won’t probe these +questions too far. It was a very strange reality, at all +events.</p> + +<p>For the first eight miles the weather was thick and +rainy; after that the sun began to dissipate the gloom, +and we had a very pleasant journey. Though a little +chilly in consequence of the moisture, the air was not +really cold. As well as I could judge, the thermometer +ranged about 54° Fahrenheit. It frequently rises to 76° +at Thingvalla during the months of July and August; +and at the Geysers, and in some of the adjacent valleys, +the heat is said to be quite oppressive.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="a_rough_road" id="a_rough_road"></a> +<img src="images/thor079.png" width="600" height="457" +alt="Riders and pack horses travel down a rocky incline" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">A ROUGH ROAD.</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding the roughness of the trail, which in +many places passed for miles over rugged fields of lava, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_451" id="Page_451"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_452" id="Page_452">[452]</a></span> +full of sharp, jagged points and dangerous fissures, we +traveled with considerable speed, seldom slackening from +a lope. Zöega untied the horses from each other’s tails +soon after passing the road to Hafuarfiord, as there was +no farther danger of their separating, and then, with +many flourishes of his whip and strange cries, well understood +by our animals, led the way. I must confess that, +in spite of some pretty hard experience of bad roads in +the coast range of California, there were times during +our mad career over the lava-beds when visions of maimed +limbs and a mutilated head crossed my mind. Should +my horse stumble on a stray spike of lava, what possible +chance of escape would there be? Falling head foremost +on harrows and rakes would be fun to a fall here, +where all the instruments capable of human destruction, +from razors, saws, and meat-axes down to spike-nails and +punches, were duly represented.</p> + +<p>In the course of our journey we frequently overtook +pack-trains laden with dried fish from the sea-shore. The +main dependence of the people throughout the country, +during the winter, is upon the fish caught during the +summer. When dried it is done up in packs and fastened +on each side of the horse, something in the Mexican +style; and each train is attended by three or four +men, and sometimes by women. About the month of +June the farmers and shepherds go down to Reykjavik, +or some other convenient fishing-station on the sea-shore, +and lay in their supplies of fish and groceries, which they +purchase from the traders by exchanges of wool, butter, +and other domestic products. After a few days of novelty +and excitement they go back to their quiet homes, +where they live in an almost dormant state until the +next season, rarely receiving any news from the great +outer world, or troubling their heads about the affairs +which concern the rest of mankind. Those whom we +met had in all probability not seen a stranger for a year. +They are an honest, primitive people, decently but very +coarsely clad in rough woolen garments manufactured +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_453" id="Page_453">[453]</a></span> +by themselves, and shaped much in the European style. +On their feet they wear moccasins made of sheepskin. +Whenever we met these pack-trains in any convenient +place, the drivers stopped to have a talk with Zöega, +often riding back a mile or two to enjoy the novelty of +his conversation. Being fresh from the capital, he naturally +abounded in stirring news about the price of codfish, +and the value of lard and butter, wool, stockings, +mittens, etc., and such other articles of traffic as they felt +interested in. He could also give them the latest intelligence +by the steamer, which always astonished them, +no matter whether it concerned the throwing overboard +of three ponies on the last voyage, or the possible resumption +of operations on the Icelandic telegraph. In +every way Zöega was kind and obliging, and, being well +known every where, was highly appreciated as a man +possessed of a remarkable fund of information. At parting +they generally stopped to kiss hands and take a pinch +of snuff.</p> + +<p>The first time I witnessed the favorite ceremony of +snuff-taking I was at a loss to understand what it meant. +A man with a small horn flask, which it was reasonable +to suppose was filled with powder and only used for loading +guns or pistols, drew the plug from it, and, stopping +quite still in the middle of the road, threw his head back +and applied the tube to his nose. Surely the fellow was +not trying to blow his brains out with the powder-flask! +Two or three times he repeated this strange proceeding, +snorting all the time as if in the agonies of suffocation. +The gravity of his countenance was extraordinary. I +could not believe my eyes.</p> + +<p>“What an absurd way of committing suicide!” I remarked +to Zöega.</p> + +<p>“Oh, sir, he is only taking snuff!” was the reply.</p> + +<p>“But if he stops up both nostrils, how is he going to +breathe?” was my natural inquiry.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="taking_snuff" id="taking_snuff"></a> +<img src="images/thor080.png" width="400" height="392" +alt="A man takes snuff from a horn flask as another man stands nearby" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">TAKING SNUFF.</p> + +<p>Zöega kindly explained that, when the man’s nose was +full he would naturally open his mouth, and as the snuff +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_454" id="Page_454">[454]</a></span> +was very fine and strong it would eventually cause him +to sneeze. In this way it was quite practicable to blow +out the load.</p> + +<p>“But don’t they ever hang fire and burst their heads?” +I asked, with some concern.</p> + +<p>“Why no, sir, I’ve never heard of a case,” answered +Zöega, in his usual grave manner; “in this country every +body takes snuff, but I never knew it to burst any body’s +head.”</p> + +<p>It was really refreshing the matter-of-fact manner in +which my guide regarded all the affairs of life. He took +every thing in a literal sense, and was of so obliging a +disposition that he would spend hours in the vain endeavor +to satisfy my curiosity on any doubtful point.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_455" id="Page_455">[455]</a></span> +“Why, Zöega,” said I, “this is a monstrous practice. +I never saw any thing like it. Are you quite sure that +fellow won’t kick when he tries to blow his nose?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, they never kick.”</p> + +<p>“Tell me, Zöega, are their breeches strong?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“That’s lucky.” I was thinking of an accident that +once occurred to a young man of my acquaintance. +Owing to a defect in the breech of his gun, the whole +load entered his head and killed him instantaneously.</p> + +<p>The gravity of these good people in their forms of politeness +is one of the most striking features in their social +intercourse. The commonest peasant takes off his cap +to another when they meet, and shaking hands and snuff-taking +are conducted on the most ceremonious principles. +They do not, however, wholly confine themselves +to stimulants for the nose. As soon as they get down +to Reykjavik and finish their business, they are very apt +to indulge in what we call in California “a bender;” +that is to say, they drink a little too much whisky, and +hang around the stores and streets for a day or two in +a state of intoxication. At other times their habits are +temperate, and they pass the greater part of their lives +among their flocks, free from excitement, and as happy +as people can be with such limited means of comfort. +The uniformity of their lives would of course be painful +to a people possessed of more energy and a higher order +of intelligence; but the Icelanders are well satisfied if +they can keep warm during the dreary winters, and obtain +their usual supplies during the summer. Sometimes +a plague sets in among their sheep and reduces them to +great distress. Fire, pestilence, and famine have from +time to time devastated the island. Still, where their +wants are so few, they can bear with great patience the +calamities inflicted upon them by an all-wise Providence. +Owing perhaps to their isolated mode of life, they are a +grave and pious people, simple in their manners, superstitious, +and credulous. They attend church regularly, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_456" id="Page_456">[456]</a></span> +and are much devoted to religious books and evening +prayers. No family goes to bed without joining in thanksgiving +for all the benefits conferred upon them during +the day. Living as they do amid the grandest phenomena +of nature, and tinctured with the wild traditions of +the old Norsemen, it is not surprising that they should +implicitly believe in wandering spirits of fire and flood, +and clothe the desolate wastes of lava with a poetic imagery +peculiarly their own. Every rock, and river, and +bog is invested with a legend or story, to the truth of +which they can bear personal witness. Here a ghost +was overtaken by the light of the moon and turned to +stone; there voices were heard crying for help, and because +no help came a farmer’s house was burned the next +day; here a certain man saw a wild woman, with long +hair, who lived in a cave, and never came out to seek for +food save in the midst of a storm, when she was seen +chasing the birds; there a great many sheep disappeared +one night, and it was thought they were killed and devoured +by a prodigious animal with two heads—and so +on, without end. Nothing is too marvelous for their +credulity. One of my most pleasant experiences was to +talk with these good people, through the aid of my guide, +and hear them tell of the wonderful sights they had seen +with their own eyes. Nor do I believe that they had the +remotest intention of stretching the truth. Doubtless +they imagined the reality of whatever they said. It was +very strange to one who had lived so long among a sharp +and rather incredulous race of men to hear full-grown +people talk with the simplicity of little children.</p> + +<p>About half way on our journey toward Thingvalla it +was necessary to cross a bog, which is never a very agreeable +undertaking in Iceland, especially after heavy rains. +This was not the worst specimen of its kind, though; we +afterward passed through others that would be difficult +to improve upon without entirely removing the bottom. +A considerable portion of Iceland is intersected by these +treacherous stretches of land and water, through which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_457" id="Page_457">[457]</a></span> +the traveler must make his way or relinquish his journey. +Often it becomes a much more difficult matter to find +the way out than to get in. Along the sea-coast, to the +southward and eastward, some of these vast bogs are +quite impassable without the assistance of a guide thoroughly +acquainted with every spot capable of bearing a +horse. On the route to the Geysers we generally contrived +to avoid the worst places by making a detour +around the edges of the hills, but this is not always practicable. +In many places the hills themselves abound in +boggy ground.</p> + +<p>The formation of the Icelandic bog is peculiar. I have +seen something similar on the Pacific coast near Cape +Mendocino, but by no means so extensive and well-defined. +In Iceland it consists of innumerable tufts of earth +from two to three feet high, interwoven with vegetable +fibres which render them elastic when pressed by the +foot. These tufts stand out in relief from the main +ground at intervals of a few feet from each other, and +frequently cover a large extent of country. The tops +are covered with grass of a very fine texture, furnishing +a good pasture for sheep and other stock. So regular +and apparently artificial is the appearance of these grassy +tufts, that I was at first inclined to think they must be +the remains of cultivated fields—probably potato-hills, or +places where corn had grown in former times. Nor was +it altogether unreasonable to suppose that groves of wood +might once have covered these singular patches of country, +and that they had been uprooted and destroyed by +some of those violent convulsions of nature which from +time to time have devastated the island. Dr. Dasent +produces ample testimony to show that, in old times, not +only corn grew in Iceland, but wood sufficiently large to +be used in building vessels. Now it is with great difficulty +that a few potatoes can be raised in some of the +warmest spots, and there is not a single tree to be found +on the entire island. The largest bushes I saw were only +six or eight feet high.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_458" id="Page_458">[458]</a></span> +A singular fact connected with the bog-formation is +that it is often found in dry places—on the slopes of +mountains, for example, in certain localities where the +water never settles and where the ground is perpetually +dry. I was greatly puzzled by this, and was scarcely +satisfied by the explanation given by Zöega, my guide, +who said it was caused by the action of the frost. In +proof of the fact that they are not of artificial formation, +and that the process by which they are developed is always +going on, he stated that in many places where they +had been leveled down for sheep-corrals or some such +purpose, a similar formation of tufted hillocks had grown +up in the course of a few years.</p> + +<p>I was continually troubled by the circuits made by +Zöega to avoid certain tracts of this kind which to me +did not look at all impracticable. Once I thought it +would be a good joke to show him that a Californian +could find his way through the strange country even better +than a native; and watching a chance when he was +not on the look-out—for I suspected what his objection +would be—I suddenly turned my horse toward the bog, +and urged him to take the short cut. It was such a capital +idea, that of beating my own guide about two miles +in a journey of little more than half a mile! But, strange +to say, the horse was of Zöega’s opinion respecting roads +through Iceland. He would not budge into the bog till +I inflicted some rather strong arguments upon him, and +then he went in with great reluctance. Before we had +proceeded a dozen yards he sank up to his belly in the +mire, and left me perched up on two matted tufts about +four feet apart. Any disinterested spectator would have +supposed at once that I was attempting to favor my guide +with a representation of the colossal statue at Rhodes, or +the Natural Bridge in Virginia. Zöega, however, was +too warmly interested in my behalf to take it in this +way. As soon as he missed me he turned about, and, +perceiving my critical position, shouted at the top of his +voice,</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_459" id="Page_459"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_460" id="Page_460">[460]</a></span> +“Sir, you can’t go that way!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="an_icelandic_bog" id="an_icelandic_bog"></a> +<img src="images/thor081.png" width="600" height="459" +alt="A man balances precariously on two tussocks, as his horse wades out from beneath him" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">AN ICELANDIC BOG.</p> + +<p>“No,” said I, in rather a desponding tone, “I see I +can’t.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t try it, sir!” cried Zöega; “you’ll certainly sink +if you do!”</p> + +<p>“I’ll promise you that, Zöega,” I answered, looking +gloomily toward the dry land, toward which my horse +was now headed, plunging frantically in a labyrinth of +tufts, his head just above the ground.</p> + +<p>“Sir, it’s very dangerous!” shouted Zöega.</p> + +<p>“Any sharks in it?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but I don’t see your horse!”</p> + +<p>“Neither do I, Zöega. Just sing out when he blows!”</p> + +<p>But the honest Icelander saw a better method than +that, which was to dismount from his own horse, and +jump from tuft to tuft until he got hold of my bridle. +With it of course came the poor animal, which by hard +pulling my trusty guide soon succeeded in getting on +dry land. Meantime I discovered a way of getting out +myself by a complicated system of jumps, and presently +we all stood in a group, Zöega scraping the mud off the +sides of my trembling steed, while I ventured to remark +that it was “a little boggy in that direction.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir,” said Zöega; “that was the reason I was +going round.”</p> + +<p>And a very sensible reason it was too, as I now cheerfully +admitted. After a medicinal pull at the brandy we +once more proceeded on our way.</p> + +<p>I mentioned the fact that there are dry bog-formations +on the sides of some of the hills. It should also be noted +that the wet bogs are not always in the lowest places. +Frequently they are found on elevated grounds, and even +high up in the mountains. Approaching a region of this +kind, when the tufts are nearly on a level with the eye, +the effect is very peculiar. It looks as if an army of grim +old Norsemen, on their march through the wilderness, +had suddenly sunk to their necks in the treacherous earth, +and still stood in that position with their shaggy heads +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_461" id="Page_461">[461]</a></span> +bared to the tempests. Often the traveler detects something +like features, and it would not be at all difficult, of +a moonlight night, to mistake them for ghostly warriors +struggling to get out on dry land. Indeed, the simple-minded +peasants, with their accustomed fertility of imagination, +have invested them with life, and relate many +wonderful stories about their pranks of dark and stormy +nights, when it is said they are seen plunging about in +the water. Hoarse cries are heard through the gusts of +the tempest; and solitary travelers on their journey retreat +in dismay, lest they should be dragged into the +treacherous abode of these ghostly old Norsemen.</p> + +<p>Not long after our unpleasant adventure we ascended +an eminence or dividing ridge of lava, from which we +had a fine view of the Lake of Thingvalla. Descending +by a series of narrow defiles, we reached a sandy cañon +winding for several miles nearly parallel with the shores +of the lake. The sides of the hills now began to exhibit +a scanty vegetation, and sometimes we crossed a moist +patch of pasture covered with a fine grass of most brilliant +and beautiful green. A few huts, with sod walls +or fences around the arable patches in the vicinity, were +to be seen from time to time, but in general the country +was very thinly populated. Flocks of sheep, and occasionally +a few horses, grazed on the hill-sides.</p> + +<p>The great trouble of our lives in the neighborhood of +these settlements was a little dog belonging to my guide. +Brusa was his name, and the management of our loose +horses was his legitimate occupation. A bright, lively, +officious little fellow was Brusa, very much like a wolf in +appearance, and not unlike a human being in certain +traits of his character. Montaigne says that great fault +was found with him, when he was mayor of his native +town, because he was always satisfied to let things go +along smoothly; and though the citizens admitted that +they had never been so free from trouble, they could not +see the use of a mayor who never issued any ordinances +or created any public commotion. Our little dog was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_462" id="Page_462">[462]</a></span> +of precisely the same way of thinking. He could see no +use in holding office in our train without doing something, +whether necessary or not. So, when the horses +were going along all right, he felt it incumbent upon him +to give chase to the sheep. Stealing away quietly, so +that Zöega might not see him at the start, he would suddenly +dart off after the poor animals, with his shaggy +hair all erect, and never stop barking, snapping, and biting +their legs till they were scattered over miles of territory. +He was particularly severe upon the cowardly +ewes and lambs, actually driving them frantic with terror; +but the old rams that stood to make fight he always +passed with quiet disdain. It was in vain Zöega would +hold up, and utter the most fearful cries and threats of +punishment: “Hur-r-r-r! Brusa! B-r-r-r-usa!! you B-r-r-usa!!!” +Never a bit could Brusa be stopped once he +got fairly under way. Up hill, and down hill, and over +the wild gorges he would fly till entirely out of sight. +In about half an hour he generally joined the train again, +looking, to say the least of it, very sheepish. I have already +spoken of the gravity and dignity of Zöega’s manner. +On occasions of this kind it assumed a parental severity +truly impressive. Slowly dismounting from his +horse, as if a great duty devolved upon him, he would +unlock one of the boxes on the pack-horse, take therefrom +a piece of bread, deliberately grease the same with +butter, and then holding it forth, more in sorrow than in +anger, invite Brusa to refresh himself after his fatiguing +chase of the sheep. The struggle between a guilty conscience +and a sharp appetite would now become painfully +perceptible on the countenance of Brusa as well as in +the relaxation of his tail. As he approached the tempting +morsel nothing could be more abject than his manner—stealing +furtive glances at the eyes of his master, +and trying to conciliate him by wagging the downcast +tail between his legs. Alas, poor Brusa! I suspected +it from the beginning. What do you think of yourself +now? Grabbed by the back of the neck in the powerful +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_463" id="Page_463">[463]</a></span> +hands of Geir Zöega! Not a particle of use for you +to whine, and yelp, and try to beg off. You have been +a very bad fellow, and must suffer the consequences. +With dreadful deliberation Zöega draws forth his whip, +which has been carefully hidden in the folds of his coat +all this time, and, holding the victim of his displeasure in +mid-air, thus, as I take it, apostrophizes him in his native +language: “O Brusa! have I not fed thee and cherished +thee with parental care? (Whack! yelp! and whack +again.) Have I not been to thee tender and true? +(Whack! whack! accompanied by heart-rending yelps +and cries.) And this is thy ingratitude! This is thy +return for all my kindness! O how sharper than a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_464" id="Page_464">[464]</a></span> +serpent’s tooth is the sting of ingratitude! (Whack.) I +warned thee about those sheep—those harmless and tender +little lambs! I begged thee with tears in my eyes +not to run after them; but thou wert stubborn in thine +iniquity; and now what can I do but—(whack)—but +punish thee according to my promise? Wilt thou ever +do it again? O say, Brusa, will thou ever again be guilty +of this disreputable conduct? (A melancholy howl.) It +pains me to do it (whack), but it is (whack) for thine +own good! Now hear and repent, and henceforth let +thy ways be the ways of the virtuous and the just!” It +was absolutely delightful to witness the joy of Brusa +when the whipping was over. Without one word of +comment Zöega would throw him the bread, and then +gravely mount his horse and ride on. For hours after +the victim of his displeasure would run, and jump, and +bark, and caper with excess of delight. I really thought +it was a kindness to whip him, he enjoyed it so much +afterward.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 261px;"> +<a name="geir_zoega_and_brusa" id="geir_zoega_and_brusa"></a> +<img src="images/thor082.png" width="261" height="400" +alt="The guide chastising his dog" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GEIR ZÖEGA AND BRUSA.</p> + +<p>Whenever our loose horses got off the trail or lagged +behind, the services of our dog were invaluable. Zöega +had a particular way of directing his attention to the errant +animal. “Hur-r-r-r!—(a roll of the tongue)—Hur-r-r-r +Brusa!” and off Brusa would dash, his hair on end +with rage, till within a few feet of the horse, when he +would commence a series of terrific demonstrations, barking +and snapping at the heels of the vagrant. Backing +of ears to frighten him, or kicks at his head, had no terrors +for him; he was altogether too sagacious to be +caught within reach of dangerous weapons.</p> + +<p>I know of nothing to equal the sagacity of these Icelandic +dogs save that of the sheep-dogs of France and +Germany. They are often sent out in the pastures to +gather up the horses, and will remain by them and keep +them within bounds for days at a time. They are also +much used in the management of sheep. Unlike the +regular shepherd-dog of Europe, however, they are sometimes +thievish and treacherous, owing to their wolfish +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_465" id="Page_465">[465]</a></span> +origin. I do not think we could have made ten miles a +day without Brusa. In the driving of pack-trains a good +dog is indispensable. I always gave the poor fellow +something to eat when we stopped in consideration of +his services.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVII" id="CHAPTER_XLVII"></a>CHAPTER XLVII.</h2> + +<h3>THE ALMANNAJAU.</h3> + + +<p>We rode for some time along an elevated plateau of +very barren aspect till something like a break in the outline +became visible a few hundred yards ahead. I had +a kind of feeling that we were approaching a crisis in +our journey, but said nothing. Neither did Zöega, for +he was not a man to waste words. He always answered +my questions politely, but seldom volunteered a remark. +Presently we entered a great gap between two enormous +cliffs of lava.</p> + +<p>“What’s this, Zöega?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Oh, this is the Almannajau.”</p> + +<p>“What! the great Almannajau, where the Icelandic +Parliament used to camp!”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; you see the exact spot down there below.”</p> + +<p>And, in good truth, there it was, some hundreds of +feet below, in a beautiful little green valley that lay at +the bottom of the gap. Never had my eyes witnessed +so strange and wild a sight. A great fissure in the earth +nearly a hundred feet deep, walled up with prodigious +fragments of lava, dark and perpendicular, the bases +strewn with molten masses, scattered about in the strangest +disorder; a valley of the brightest green, over a hundred +feet wide, stretching like a river between the fire-blasted +cliffs; the trail winding through it in snake-like +undulation—all now silent as death under the grim leaden +sky, yet eloquent of terrible convulsions in by-gone +centuries and of the voices of men long since mingled +with the dust. Upon entering the gorge between the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_466" id="Page_466">[466]</a></span> +shattered walls of lava on either side, the trail makes a +rapid descent of a few hundred yards till it strikes into +the valley. I waited till my guide had descended with +the horses, and then took a position a little below the +entrance, so as to command a view out through the +gorge and up the entire range of the Almannajau.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 397px;"> +<a name="entrance_to_the_almannajau" id="entrance_to_the_almannajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor083.png" width="397" height="500" +alt="A winding road passes between two huge outcrops of rock" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ENTRANCE TO THE ALMANNAJAU.</p> + +<p>The appended sketch, imperfect as it is, will convey +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_467" id="Page_467"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_468" id="Page_468">[468]</a></span> +some idea of the scene; yet to comprise within the brief +compass of a sheet of paper the varied wonders of this +terrible gap, the wild disorder of the fragments cast loose +over the earth, the utter desolation of the whole place +would be simply impossible. No artist has ever yet done +justice to the scene, and certainly no mere amateur can +hope to attain better success.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_almannajau" id="the_almannajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor084.png" width="600" height="452" +alt="A bleak valley, with sheer rock sides" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE ALMANNAJAU.</p> + +<p>Looking up the range of the fissure, it resembles an +immense walled alley, high on one side, and low, broken, +and irregular on the other. The main or left side forms +a fearful precipice of more than eighty feet, and runs in +a direct line toward the mountains, a distance of four or +five miles. On the right, toward the plain of Thingvalla, +the inferior side forms nearly a parallel line of rifted and +irregular masses of lava, perpendicular in front and receding +behind. The greater wall presents a dark, rugged +face, composed of immense pillars and blocks of lava, defined +by horizontal and vertical fissures, strangely irregular +in detail, but showing a dark, compact, and solid +front. In places it is not unlike a vast library of books, +shaken into the wildest confusion by some resistless power. +Whole ranges of ink-colored blocks are wrenched +from their places, and scattered about between the ledges. +Well may they represent the law-books of the old Icelandic +Sagas and judges, who held their councils near this +fearful gorge! Corresponding in face, but less regular +and of inferior height, is the opposite wall. In its molten +state the whole once formed a burning flood, of such vast +extent and depth that it is estimated by geologists nearly +half a century must have elapsed before it became cool. +The bottom of this tremendous crack in the sea of lava +is almost a dead level, and forms a valley of about a hundred +feet in width, which extends, with occasional breaks +and irregularities, entirely up to the base of the mountain. +This valley is for the most part covered with a +beautiful carpeting of fine green grass, but is sometimes +diversified by fragments of lava shivered off and cast +down from the walls on either side.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_469" id="Page_469">[469]</a></span> +The gorge by which we entered must have been impracticable +for horses in its original state. Huge masses +of lava, which doubtless once jammed up the way, must +have been hurled over into the gaping fissures at each +side, and something like a road-way cleared out from the +chaos of ruin. Pavements and side-stones are still visible, +where it is more than probable the old Icelanders +did many a hard day’s work. Eight or nine centuries +have not yet obliterated the traces of the hammer and +chisel; and there were stones cast a little on one side +that still bear the marks of horses’ hoofs—the very horses +in all probability ridden by old Sagas and lawgivers. +Through this wild gorge they made their way into the +sheltered solitudes of the Almannajau, where they pitched +their tents and held their feasts previous to their councils +on the Lögberg. Here passed the members of the +Althing; here the victims of the Lögberg never repassed +again.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="skeleton_view_of_the_almannajau" id="skeleton_view_of_the_almannajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor085.png" width="400" height="192" +alt="Showing the vertical sides of the fissure, higher on the left side" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SKELETON VIEW OF THE ALMANNAJAU.</p> + +<p>There are various theories concerning the original formation +of this wonderful fissure. It is supposed by some +that the flood of lava by which Thingvalla was desolated +in times of which history presents no record must have +cooled irregularly, owing to the variation of thickness in +different parts of the valley; that at this point, where +its depth was great, the contracting mass separated, and +the inferior portion gradually settled downward toward +the point of greatest depression.</p> + +<p>Others, again, hold the theory that there was a liquid +drain of the molten lava underneath toward the lake, by +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_470" id="Page_470">[470]</a></span> +means of which a great subterranean cavity was formed +as far back as the mountain; that the crust on top, +being of insufficient strength to bear its own great weight, +must have fallen in as the whole mass cooled, and thus +created this vast crack in the earth.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 700px;"> +<a name="outline_view_of_thingvalla" id="outline_view_of_thingvalla"></a> +<img src="images/thor086.png" width="700" height="152" +alt="Showing left to right, Almannajau, a church, Lögberg and Hrafnajau" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">OUTLINE VIEW OF THINGVALLA.</p> + +<p>I incline to the first of these theories +myself, as the most conformable +to the contractile laws of heat. +There is also something like practical +evidence to sustain it. A careful +examination of the elevations and +depressions on each wall of the gap +satisfied me that they bear at least +a very striking analogy. Points on +one side are frequently represented +by hollows on the other, and even +complicated figures occasionally find +a counterpart, the configuration being +always relatively convex or concave. +This would seem to indicate +very clearly that the mass had been +forcibly rent asunder, either by the +contractile process of heat, or a convulsion +of the earth. The most difficult +point to determine is why the +bottom should be so flat and regular, +and what kept the great mass on +each side so far intact as to form +one clearly-defined fissure a hundred +feet wide and nearly five miles +in length? This, however, is not +for an unlearned tourist like myself +to go into very deeply.</p> + +<p>How many centuries have passed +away since all this happened the +first man who “gazed through the +rent of ruin” has failed to leave on record—if he ever +knew it. The great walls of the fissure stood grim and +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_471" id="Page_471">[471]</a></span> +black before the old Icelandic Sagas, just as they now +stand before the astonished eyes of the tourist. History +records no material change in its aspect. It may be older +than the Pyramids of Egypt; yet it looks as if the +eruption by which it was caused might have happened +within a lifetime, so little is there to indicate the progress +of ages. I could not but experience the strangest +sensations in being carried so far back toward the beginning +of the world.</p> + +<p>At the distance of about a mile up the “Jau” a river +tumbles over the upper wall of lava, and rushes down +the main fissure for a few hundred yards, when it suddenly +diverges and breaks through a gap in the inferior +wall, and comes down the valley on the outside toward +the lake.</p> + +<p>During my stay at Thingvalla I walked up to this part +of the Almannajau, and made a rough sketch of the waterfall.</p> + +<p>From the point of rocks upon which I stood the effect +was peculiar. The course of the river, which lies behind +the Jau, on the opposite side, is entirely hidden by the +great wall in front, and nothing of it is visible till the +whole river bursts over the dark precipice, and tumbles, +foaming and roaring, into the tremendous depths below, +where it dashes down wildly among the shattered fragments +of lava till it reaches the outlet into the main valley. +A mist rises up from the falling water, and whirls +around the base of the cataract in clouds, forming in the +rays of the sun a series of beautiful rainbows. The grim, +jagged rocks, blackened and rifted with fire, make a +strange contrast with the delicate prismatic colors of the +rainbows, and their sharp and rugged outline with the +soft, ever-changing clouds of spray.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="fall_of_the_almannajau" id="fall_of_the_almannajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor087.png" width="600" height="447" +alt="A waterfall pours over the top of the cliff" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">FALL OF THE ALMANNAJAU.</p> + +<p>The flocks of the good pastor of Thingvalla were quietly +browsing among the rugged declivities where I stood. +Here were violence and peace in striking contrast; the +tremendous concussion of the falling water; the fearful +marks of convulsion on the one hand, and on the other +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_472" id="Page_472"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_473" id="Page_473">[473]</a></span> +<span class="i0">“The gentle flocks that play upon the green.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>As I put away my imperfect sketch, and sauntered +back toward the hospitable cabin of the pastor, a figure +emerged from the rocks, and I stood face to face with an +Icelandic shepherdess.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;"> +<a name="icelandic_shepherd_girl" id="icelandic_shepherd_girl"></a> +<img src="images/thor088.png" width="389" height="500" +alt="A man encounters a shepherd-girl" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">ICELANDIC SHEPHERD-GIRL.</p> + +<p>Well, it is no use to grow poetical over this matter. +To be sure, we were alone in a great wilderness, and she +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_474" id="Page_474">[474]</a></span> +was very pretty, and looked uncommonly coquettish with +her tasseled cap, neat blue bodice, and short petticoats, +to say nothing of a well-turned pair of ankles; but then, +you see, I couldn’t speak a word of Icelandic, and if I +could, what had I, a responsible man, to say to a pretty +young shepherdess? At most I could only tell her she +was extremely captivating, and looked for all the world +like a flower in the desert, born to blush unseen, etc. +As she skipped shyly away from me over the rocks I +was struck with admiration at the graceful sprightliness +of her movements, and wondered why so much beauty +should be wasted upon silly sheep, when the world is so +full of stout, brave young fellows who would fall dead in +love with her at the first sight. But I had better drop +the subject. There is a young man of my acquaintance +already gone up to Norway to look for the post-girl that +drove me over the road to Trondhjem, and at least two +of my friends are now on the way to Hamburg for the +express purpose of witnessing the gyrations of the celebrated +wheeling girls. All I hope is, that when they +meet with those enterprising damsels they will follow +my example, and behave with honor and discretion.</p> + +<p>Standing upon an eminence overlooking the valley, I +was struck with wonder at the vast field of lava outspread +before me. Here is an area at least eight miles +square, all covered with a stony crust, varying from fifty +to a hundred feet in thickness, rent into gaping fissures +and tossed about in tremendous fragments; once a burning +flood, covering the earth with ruin and desolation +wherever it flowed; now a cold, weird desert, whose +gloomy monotony is only relieved by stunted patches of +brushwood and dark pools of water—all wrapped in a +death-like silence. Where could this terrible flood have +come from? The mountains in the distance look so +peaceful in their snowy robes, so incapable of the rage +from which all this desolation must have sprung, that I +could scarcely reconcile such terrible results with an origin +so apparently inadequate.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_475" id="Page_475">[475]</a></span> +I questioned Zöega on this point, but not with much +success. How was it possible, I asked, that millions and +billions of tons of lava could be vomited forth from the +crater of any mountain within sight? Here was a solid +bed of lava spread over the valley, and many miles beyond, +which, if piled up, shrunken and dried as it was, +would of itself make a mountain larger than the Skjaldbraid +Jokul, from which it is supposed to have been +ejected.</p> + +<p>“Now, Zöega,” said I, “how do you make it out that +this came from the Skjaldbraid Jokul?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, I don’t know, but I think it came from the +inside of the world.”</p> + +<p>“Why, Zöega, the world is only a shell—a mere egg-shell +in Iceland I should fancy—filled with fiery gases.”</p> + +<p>“Is that possible, sir?” cried Zöega, in undisguised +astonishment.</p> + +<p>“Yes, quite possible—a mere egg-shell!”</p> + +<p>“Dear me, I didn’t know that! It is a wonderful +world, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Very—especially in Iceland.”</p> + +<p>“Then, sir, I don’t know how this could have happened, +unless it was done by spirits that live in the ground. +Some people say they are great monsters, and live on +burnt stones.”</p> + +<p>“Do you believe in spirits, Zöega?”</p> + +<p>“Oh yes, sir; and don’t you? I’ve seen them many +a time. I once saw a spirit nearly as large as the Skjaldbraid. +It came up out of the earth directly before me +where I was traveling, and shook its head as if warning +me to go back. I was badly frightened, and turned my +horse around and went back. Then I heard that my +best friend was dying. When he was dead I married +his wife. She’s a very good woman, sir, and, if you please, +I’ll get her to make you some coffee when we get back +to Reykjavik.”</p> + +<p>So goes the world, thought I, from the Skjaldbraid Jokul +to a cup of coffee! Why bother our heads about +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_476" id="Page_476">[476]</a></span> +these troublesome questions, which can only result in +proving us all equally ignorant. The wisest has learned +nothing save his own ignorance. He “meets with darkness +in the daytime, and gropes in the noonday as in the +night.”</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLVIII" id="CHAPTER_XLVIII"></a>CHAPTER XLVIII.</h2> + +<h3>THINGVALLA.</h3> + + +<p>The extensive valley called Thingvalla, or the Valley +of the “Thing,” lies at the head of a lake of the same +name, some fifteen miles in length by six or seven in +width. The waters of this lake are beautifully clear, and +the scenery around it is of the wildest and most picturesque +character. Rugged mountains rise from its shores +in various directions, and islands reflect their varied outlines +in its glassy surface. Cranes, wild ducks, plovers, +and occasionally swans, abound in the lagoons that open +into it from Thingvalla. The bed of this fine sheet of +water corresponds in its configuration with the surrounding +country. It is of volcanic formation throughout, and +the rifts and fissures in the lava can be traced as far as +it is practicable to see through the water.</p> + +<p>On passing out of the Almannajau near the lower fall, +where the river breaks out into the main valley, the view +toward the lake is extensive and imposing. Along the +course of the river is a succession of beautiful little green +flats, upon which the horses and cattle of the good pastor +graze; and farther down, on the left, lies the church +and farm-house. Still beyond are vast plains of lava, +gradually merging into the waters of the lake; and in +the far distance mountain upon mountain, till the view is +lost in the snowy Jokuls of the far interior.</p> + +<p>Descending into this valley we soon crossed the river, +which is fordable at this season, and in a few minutes +entered a lane between the low stone walls that surround +the station.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_477" id="Page_477">[477]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="church_at_thingvalla" id="church_at_thingvalla"></a> +<img src="images/thor089.png" width="600" height="453" +alt="A wooden church with small rooftop tower at one end; the building surrounded with a stone wall" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">CHURCH AT THINGVALLA.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_478" id="Page_478">[478]</a></span> +The church is of modern construction, and, like all I +saw in the interior, is made of wood, painted a dark color, +and roofed with boards covered with sheets of tarred +canvas. It is a very primitive little affair, only one story +high, and not more than fifteen by twenty feet in dimensions. +From the date on the weather-cock it appears to +have been built in 1858.</p> + +<p>The congregation is supplied by the few sheep-ranches +in the neighborhood, consisting at most of half a dozen +families. These unpretending little churches are to be +seen in the vicinity of every settlement throughout the +whole island. Simple and homely as they are, they speak +well for the pious character of the people.</p> + +<p>The pastor of Thingvalla and his family reside in a +group of sod-covered huts close by the church. These +cheerless little hovels are really a curiosity, none of them +being over ten or fifteen feet high, and all huddled together +without the slightest regard to latitude or longitude, +like a parcel of sheep in a storm. Some have windows +in the roof, and some have chimneys; grass and +weeds grow all over them, and crooked by-ways and +dark alleys run among them and through them. At the +base they are walled up with big lumps of lava, and two +of them have board fronts, painted black, while the remainder +are patched up with turf and rubbish of all sorts, +very much in the style of a stork’s nest. A low stone +wall encircles the premises, but seems to be of little use +as a barrier against the encroachments of live-stock, +being broken up in gaps every few yards. In front of +the group some attempt has been made at a pavement, +which, however, must have been abandoned soon after +the work was commenced. It is now littered all over +with old tubs, pots, dish-cloths, and other articles of domestic +use.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_pastors_house" id="the_pastors_house"></a> +<img src="images/thor090.png" width="600" height="366" +alt="A collection of sod-covered huts forming a single rambling house" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE PASTOR’S HOUSE.</p> + +<p>The interior of this strange abode is even more complicated +than one would be led to expect from the exterior. +Passing through a dilapidated doorway in one of +the smaller cabins, which you would hardly suppose to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_479" id="Page_479"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_480" id="Page_480">[480]</a></span> +be the main entrance, you find yourself in a long dark +passage-way, built of rough stone, and roofed with wooden +rafters and brushwood covered with sod. The sides +are ornamented with pegs stuck in the crevices between +the stones, upon which hang saddles, bridles, horse-shoes, +bunches of herbs, dried fish, and various articles of cast-off +clothing, including old shoes and sheepskins. Wide +or narrow, straight or crooked, to suit the sinuosities of +the different cabins into which it forms the entrance, it +seems to have been originally located upon the track of +a blind boa-constrictor, though Bishop Hatton denies the +existence of snakes in Iceland. The best room, or rather +house—for every room is a house—is set apart for the +accommodation of travelers. Another cabin is occupied +by some members of the pastor’s family, who bundle +about like a lot of rabbits. The kitchen is also the dog-kennel, +and occasionally the sheep-house. A pile of stones +in one corner of it, upon which a few twigs or scraps of +sheep-manure serve to make the fire, constitute the cooking +department. The beams overhead are decorated with +pots and kettles, dried fish, stockings, petticoats, and the +remains of a pair of boots that probably belonged to the +pastor in his younger days. The dark turf walls are +pleasantly diversified with bags of oil hung on pegs, scraps +of meat, old bottles and jars, and divers rusty-looking instruments +for shearing sheep and cleaning their hoofs. +The floor consists of the original lava-bed, and artificial +puddles composed of slops and offal of divers unctuous +kinds. Smoke fills all the cavities in the air not already +occupied by foul odors, and the beams, and posts, and +rickety old bits of furniture are dyed to the core with +the dense and variegated atmosphere around them. This +is a fair specimen of the whole establishment, with the +exception of the travelers’ room. The beds in these cabins +are the chief articles of luxury. Feathers being abundant, +they are sewed up in prodigious ticks, which are +tumbled topsy-turvy into big boxes on legs that serve +for bedsteads, and then covered over with piles of all the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_481" id="Page_481">[481]</a></span> +loose blankets, petticoats, and cast-off rags possible to be +gathered up about the premises. Into these comfortable +nests the sleepers dive every night, and, whether in summer +or winter, cover themselves up under the odorous +mountain of rags, and snooze away till morning. During +the long winter nights they spend on an average about +sixteen hours out of the twenty-four in this agreeable +manner. When it is borne in mind that every crevice +in the house is carefully stopped up in order to keep out +the cold air, and that whole families frequently occupy a +single apartment not over ten by twelve, the idea of being +able to cut through the atmosphere with a cleaver seems +perfectly preposterous. A night’s respiration in such a +hole is quite sufficient to saturate the whole family with +the substance of all the fish and sheepskins in the vicinity; +and the marvel of it is that they don’t come out +next day wagging their fins or bleating like sheep. I +wonder they ever have any occasion to eat. Absorption +must supply them with a large amount of nutriment; +but I suppose what is gained in that way is lost in the +fattening of certain other members of the household. +Warmth seems to be the principal object, and certainly +it is no small consideration in a country where fuel is so +scarce.</p> + +<p>I can not conceive of more wretched abodes for human +beings. They are, indeed, very little better than fox-holes—certainly +not much sweeter. Yet in such rude habitations +as these the priests of Iceland study the classical +languages, and perfect themselves in the early literature +of their country. Many of them become learned, and +devote much of their lives to the pursuits of science. In +the northern part of the country the houses are said to +be better and more capacious; but the example I have +given is a fair average of what I saw.</p> + +<p>The passionate devotion of the Icelanders to their +homes is almost inconceivable. I have never seen any +thing like it. The most favored nations of the earth can +not furnish examples of such intense and all-absorbing +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_482" id="Page_482">[482]</a></span> +love of home and country. I traveled with a native of +Reykjavik some weeks after my visit to Thingvalla, and +had an opportunity of judging what his impressions were +of other countries. He was a very intelligent man, well +versed in Icelandic literature, and spoke English remarkably +well. Both himself and wife were fellow passengers +on the <i>Arcturus</i> from Reykjavik to Grangemouth. I was +curious to know what a well-educated man would think +of a civilized country, and watched him very closely. He +had never seen a railway, locomotive, or carriage of any +kind, not even a tree or a good-sized house. We stopped +at Leith, where we took passage by the train to Edinburg. +As soon as the locomotive started he began to +laugh heartily, and by the time we reached Edinburg he +and his wife, though naturally grave people, were nearly +in convulsions of laughter. I had no idea that the emotion +of wonder would be manifested in that way by civilized +beings. Of course I laughed to see them laugh, +and altogether it was very funny. We took rooms at +the same hotel, opposite to Sir Walter Scott’s monument. +Now it is needless to say that Edinburg is one of the +most beautiful cities in the world. Even Constantinople +can scarcely surpass it in picturesque beauty. The worthy +Icelander, be it remembered, had never seen even a +town, except Reykjavik, of which I have already attempted +a description. It was night when we arrived at Edinburg, +so that I had no opportunity of judging what his +impressions would be at that time. Next morning I +knocked at his room door. His wife opened it, looking +very sad, as I thought. At the window, gazing out over +the magnificent scene, embracing the Monument, the Castle, +and many of the finest of the public buildings, stood +her husband, the big tears coursing down his face.</p> + +<p>“Well,” said I, “what do you think of Edinburg?”</p> + +<p>“Oh!” he cried, “oh, I am so home-sick! Oh, my dear, +dear native land! Oh, my own beautiful Iceland! Oh +that I were back in my beloved Reykjavik! Oh, I shall +die in this desert of houses! Oh that I could once more +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_483" id="Page_483">[483]</a></span> +breathe the pure fresh air of my own dear, dear island +home!”</p> + +<p>Such were literally his expressions. Not one word +had he to say about the beauties of Edinburg! To him +it was a hideous nightmare. The fishy little huts of +Reykjavik, the bleak lava-deserts of the neighborhood, +and the raw blasts from the Jokuls, were all he could +realize of a Paradise upon earth. Yet he was a highly-cultivated +and intelligent man, not destitute of refined +tastes. Truly, I thought to myself,</p> + +<div class="poem"> +<div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">“The shuddering tenant of the frigid zone<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own.”<br /></span> +</div> +</div> + +<p>While I waited outside the pastor’s house, enjoying +the oddity of the scene, Zöega busied himself unsaddling +the horses. I sat down on a pile of fagots, and, with +some trouble and a little assistance from my guide, succeeded +in getting off my overalls, which had been thoroughly +drenched with rain and saturated with mud. The +occasional duckings we had experienced in crossing the +rivers did not add to my comfort. I was chilled and +wet, and would have given a Danish dollar for the privilege +of sitting at a fire. All this time there was no sign +of life about the premises save the barking of an ill-favored +little dog that was energetically disclaiming any +acquaintance with Brusa. I regret to say that Brusa +lost much of his bravado air in the presence of this insignificant +cur, but it was quite natural; the cur was at +home and Brusa wasn’t. At first our dog seemed disposed +to stand his ground, but upon the near approach +of the house-dog he dropped his tail between his legs +and ingloriously sneaked between the legs of the horses, +which of course gave the gentleman of the house a high +opinion of his own prowess—so much so, indeed, that +the craven spirit of Brusa never before appeared in such +a despicable light. He cringed and howled with terror, +which so flattered the vanity of the other that a ferocious +attack was the immediate consequence. Fortunately, +a kick from one of the horses laid Brusa’s aggressor +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_484" id="Page_484">[484]</a></span> +yelping in the mud, an advantage of which Brusa +promptly availed himself, and the pastor’s dog would +have fared badly in the issue but for the interference of +Zöega, who separated the contending parties, and administered +a grave rebuke to the party of our part respecting +the impropriety of his conduct.</p> + +<p>Though it occurred to me that I had seen the retreating +figure of a man as we rode up, I was at a loss to understand +why nobody appeared to ask us in or bid us +welcome, and suggested to Zöega that I thought this +rather an unfriendly reception. Now, upon this point +of Icelandic hospitality Zöega was peculiarly sensitive. +He always maintained that the people, though poor, are +very hospitable—so much so that they made no complaint +when a certain Englishman, whose name he could +mention, stopped with them for days, ate up all their food +and drank up all their coffee, and then went off without +offering them even a small present. “No wonder,” said +Zöega, “this man told a great many lies about them, and +laughed at them for refusing money, when the truth was +he never offered them money or any thing else. It was +certainly a very cheap way of traveling.”</p> + +<p>“But what about the pastor, Zöega? I’m certain I +caught a glimpse of him as he darted behind the door.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, he’ll be here directly; he always runs away when +strangers come.”</p> + +<p>“What does he run away for?”</p> + +<p>“Why, you see, sir, he is generally a little dirty, and +must go wash himself and put on some decent clothes.”</p> + +<p>While we were talking the pastor made his appearance, +looking somewhat damp about the face and hair, +and rather embarrassed about the shape of his coat, which +was much too large for him, and hung rather low about +his heels. With an awkward shuffling gait he approached +us, and, having shaken hands with Zöega, looked askant +at me, and said something, which my guide interpreted +as follows:</p> + +<p>“He bids you welcome, sir, and says his house is at +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_485" id="Page_485">[485]</a></span> +your service. It is a very poor house, but it is the best +he has. He wishes to know if you will take some coffee, +and asks what part of the world you are from. I +tell him you are from California, and he says it is a great +way off, clear down on the other side of the world, and +may God’s blessing be upon you. Walk in, sir.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 240px;"> +<a name="the_pastor_of_thingvalla" id="the_pastor_of_thingvalla"></a> +<img src="images/thor091.png" width="240" height="400" +alt="A gaunt man, wearing a huge black coat and skullcap" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE PASTOR OF THINGVALLA.</p> + +<p>Pleased with these kind words, I stepped up to the +good pastor and cordially shook him by the hand, at the +same time desiring Zöega to say that I thanked him very +much, and hoped he would make it convenient to call and +see me some time or other in California, which, I regret +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_486" id="Page_486">[486]</a></span> +to add, caused him to look both alarmed and embarrassed. +A queer, shy man was this pastor—a sort of living mummy, +dried up and bleached by Icelandic snows. His manner +was singularly bashful. There was something of the +recluse in it—a mixture of shyness, awkwardness, and +intelligence, as if his life had been spent chiefly among +sheep and books, which very likely was the case. All +the time I was trying to say something agreeable he was +looking about him as if he desired to make his escape +into some Icelandic bog, and there hide himself during +my stay. I followed him through the passage-way already +mentioned into the travelers’ room, where he beckoned +me to take a seat, and then, awkwardly seating himself +on the edge of a chair as far away as he could get +without backing through the wall, addressed me in Danish. +Finding me not very proficient in that tongue, he +branched off into Latin, which he spoke as fluently as if +it had been his native language. Here again I was at +fault. I had gone as far as <i>Quosque tandem</i> when a boy, +but the vicissitudes of time and travel had knocked it all +out of my head. I tried him on the German, and there, +to use a familiar phrase, had the “dead-wood on him.” +He couldn’t understand a word of that euphonious language. +However, a slight knowledge of the Spanish, +picked up in Mexico and California, enabled me to guess +at some of his Latin, and in this way we struggled into +something of conversation. The effort, however, was +too great for the timid recluse. After several pauses +and lapses into long fits of silence, he got up and took +his leave. Meantime Zöega was enjoying himself by the +fire in the kitchen, surrounded by the female members +of the family, who no doubt were eagerly listening to +the latest news from Reykjavik. Whenever their voices +became audible I strongly suspected that the ladies were +asking whether the steamer had brought any crinoline +from Copenhagen.</p> + +<p>The pastor’s family appeared to be composed entirely +of females. Like all the Icelandic women I had seen, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_487" id="Page_487">[487]</a></span> +they do all the work of the establishment, attend to the +cows, make the cheese, cut the hay, carry the heavy burdens, +and perform the manual labor generally. This I +found to be the case at all the farm-houses. Sometimes +the men assist, but they prefer riding about the country +or lying idle about the doors of their cabins. At Reykjavik, +it is true, there is a population of Danish sailors +and fishermen, and it would be scarcely fair to form an +opinion from the lazy and thriftless habits of the people +there. But I think the civilization of Iceland is very +much like that of Germany in respect to women. They +are not rated very high in the scale of humanity. Still, +overworked and degraded as they are, the natural proclivities +of the sex are not altogether obliterated. In +former times their costume was picturesque and becoming, +and some traces of the old style are yet to be seen +throughout the pastoral districts; a close body, a jaunty +little cap on the head, with a heavy tassel, ornamented +with gold or silver bands, silver clasps to their belts, and +filigree buttons down the front, give them a very pleasing +appearance. Of late years, however, fashion has begun +to assert her sway, even in this isolated part of the +world, and the native costume is gradually becoming +modernized.</p> + +<p>The pastor having joined the more congenial circle of +which Zöega was the admired centre, I was left alone in +the chilly little room allotted to travelers to meditate +upon the comforts of Icelandic life. It was rather a +gloomy condition of affairs to be wet to the skin, shivering +with cold, and not a soul at hand to sympathize with +me in my misery. Then the everlasting day—when +would it end? Already I had been awake and traveling +some fourteen hours, and it was as broad daylight as +ever. Nothing could be more wearying than the everlasting +daylight that surrounded me—not bright and +sunshiny, but dreary and lead-colored, showing scarcely +any perceptible difference between morning, noon, and +night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_488" id="Page_488">[488]</a></span> +The coffee soon came to my relief, and the pastor followed +it to wish me a good appetite and ask if I wanted +any thing else. I again renewed the attempt at conversation, +but it was too much for his nervous temperament +and shrinking modesty. He always managed, after a few +words, to slip stealthily away up into the loft or out +among the rocks to avoid the appearance of intrusion, +or the labor of understanding what I said, or communicating +his ideas—I could not tell which.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="skeleton_view_of_the_logberg" id="skeleton_view_of_the_logberg"></a> +<img src="images/thor092.png" width="400" height="290" +alt="Showing the narrow plateau and surrounding chasm" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SKELETON VIEW OF THE LÖGBERG.</p> + +<p>After a slight repast I walked out to take a look at +the Lögberg, or Rock of Laws, which is situated about +half a mile from the church. This is, perhaps, of all the +objects of historical association in Iceland, the most interesting. +It was here the judges tried criminals, pronounced +judgments, and executed their stern decrees. +On a small plateau of lava, separated from the general +mass by a profound abyss on every side, save a narrow +neck barely wide enough for a foothold, the famous +“Thing” assembled once a year, and, secured from intrusion +in their deliberations by the terrible chasm around, +passed laws for the weal or woe of the people. It was +only necessary to guard the causeway by which they entered; +all other sides were well protected by the encircling +moat, which varies from thirty to forty feet in width, +and is half filled with water. The total depth to the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_489" id="Page_489"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_490" id="Page_490">[490]</a></span> +bottom, which is distinctly visible through the crystal +pool, must be sixty or seventy feet. Into this yawning +abyss the unhappy criminals were cast, with stones around +their necks, and many a long day did they lie beneath +the water, a ghastly spectacle for the crowd that peered +at them over the precipice.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="thingvalla_logberg_almannajau" id="thingvalla_logberg_almannajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor093.png" width="600" height="463" +alt="A bleak landscape, with sheer rock cliffs and mountains in the distance" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THINGVALLA, LÖGBERG, ALMANNAJAU.</p> + +<p>All was now as silent as the grave. Eight centuries +had passed, and yet the strange scenes that had taken +place here were vividly before me. I could imagine the +gathering crowds, the rising hum of voices; the pause, +the shriek, and plunge; the low murmur of horror, and +then the stern warning of the lawgivers and the gradual +dispersing of the multitude.</p> + +<p>The dimensions of the plateau are four or five hundred +feet in length by an average of sixty or eighty in width. +A diagram, taken from an elevated point beyond, will +give some idea of its form. The surface is now covered +with a fine coating of sod and grass, and furnishes good +pasturage for the sheep belonging to the pastor.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="diagram_of_the_logberg" id="diagram_of_the_logberg"></a> +<img src="images/thor094.png" width="400" height="219" +alt="Showing contours in the landscape" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">DIAGRAM OF THE LÖGBERG.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XLIX" id="CHAPTER_XLIX"></a>CHAPTER XLIX.</h2> + +<h3>THE ROAD TO THE GEYSERS.</h3> + + +<p>It was ten o’clock at night when I reached the parsonage. +In addition to my rough ride from Reykjavik, +and the various trying adventures on the way, I had +walked over nearly the whole range of the Almannajau, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_491" id="Page_491">[491]</a></span> +sketched the principal points of interest, visited the Lögberg, +and made some sketches and diagrams of that, besides +accomplishing a considerable amount of work about +the premises of the good pastor, all of which is now submitted +to the kind indulgence of the reader. Surely if +there is a country upon earth abounding in obstacles to +the pursuit of the fine arts, it is Iceland. The climate +is the most variable in existence—warm and cold, wet +and dry by turns, seldom the same thing for half a day. +Such, at least, was my experience in June. Wild and +desolate scenery there is in abundance, and no lack of +interesting objects any where for the pencil of an artist; +but it is difficult to conceive the amount of physical discomfort +that must be endured by one who faithfully adheres +to his purpose. Only think of sitting down on a +jagged piece of lava, wet to the skin and shivering with +cold; a raw, drizzling rain running down your back and +dropping from the brim of your hat, making rivers on +your paper where none are intended to be; hints of +rheumatism shooting through your bones, and visions +of a solitary grave in the wilderness crossing your mind; +then, of a sudden, a wind that scatters your papers far +and wide, and sends your only hat whirling into an abyss +from which it is doubtful whether you will ever recover +it—think of these, ye summer tourists who wander, +sketch-book in hand, through the “warbling woodland” +and along “the resounding shore,” and talk about being +enterprising followers of the fine arts! Try it in Iceland +a while, and see how long your inspiration will last! +Take my word for it, unless you be terribly in earnest, +you will postpone your labors till the next day, and then +the next, and so on to the day that never comes.</p> + +<p>Not the least of my troubles was the difficulty of getting +a good night’s rest after the fatiguing adventures +of the day. There was no fault to be found with the +bed, save that it was made for somebody who had never +attained the average growth of an American; and one +might do without a night-cap, but how in the world +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_492" id="Page_492">[492]</a></span> +could any body be expected to sleep when there was no +night? At twelve o’clock, when it ought to be midnight +and the ghosts stirring about, I looked out, and it +was broad day; at half past one I looked out again, and +the sun was shining; at two I got up and tried to read +some of the pastor’s books, which were written in Icelandic, +and therefore not very entertaining; at three I +went to work and finished some of my sketches; and at +four I gave up all farther hope of sleeping, and sallied +forth to take another look at the Almannajau.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 230px;"> +<a name="an_artist_at_home" id="an_artist_at_home"></a> +<img src="images/thor095.png" width="230" height="400" +alt="The artist, hands in pockets, stares at a sketch on an easel" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">AN ARTIST AT HOME.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_493" id="Page_493">[493]</a></span> +On my return Zöega was saddling up the horses. A +cup of coffee and a dry biscuit put me in traveling order, +and we were soon on our way up the valley.</p> + +<p>For the first few miles we followed the range of the +“Jau,” from which we then diverged across the great +lava-beds of Thingvalla. It was not long before we struck +into a region of such blasted and barren aspect that the +imagination was bewildered with the dreary desolation +of the scene. The whole country, as far as the eye could +reach, was torn up and rent to pieces. Great masses of +lava seemed to have been wrested forcibly from the original +bed, and hurled at random over the face of the +country. Prodigious fissures opened on every side, and +for miles the trail wound through a maze of sharp points +and brittle crusts of lava, with no indication of the course +save at occasional intervals a pile of stones on some prominent +point, erected by the peasants as a way-mark for +travelers. Sometimes our hardy little horses climbed +like goats up the rugged sides of a slope, where it seemed +utterly impossible to find a foothold, so tortured and +chaotic was the face of the earth; and not unfrequently +we became involved in a labyrinth of fearful sinks, where +the upper stratum had given way and fallen into the +yawning depths below. Between these terrible traps +the trail was often not over a few feet wide. It was no +pleasant thing to contemplate the results of a probable +slip or a misstep. The whole country bore the aspect +of baffled rage—as if imbued with a demoniac spirit, it +had received a crushing stroke from the Almighty hand +that blasted and shivered it to fragments.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="lava_fjelds" id="lava_fjelds"></a> +<img src="images/thor096.png" width="600" height="458" +alt="Riders travel over an uneven landscape" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">LAVA-FJELDS.</p> + +<p>There were masses that looked as if they had turned +cold while running in a fiery flood from the crater—wavy, +serrated, frothy, like tar congealed or stiffened on +a flat surface. One piece that I sketched was of the +shape of a large leaf, upon which all the fibres were marked. +It measured ten feet by four. Another bore a resemblance +to a great conch-shell. Many were impressed +with the roots of shrubs and the images of various +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_494" id="Page_494"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_495" id="Page_495"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_496" id="Page_496">[496]</a></span> +surrounding objects—snail-shells, pebbles, twigs, and the like. +On a larger scale, bubbling brooks, waterfalls, and whirlpools +were represented—now no longer a burning flood, +but stiff, stark, and motionless. One sketch, which is reproduced, +bore a startling resemblance to some of the +marble effigies on the tombs of medieval knights.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="effigy_in_lava" id="effigy_in_lava"></a> +<img src="images/thor097.png" width="600" height="280" +alt="A lava piece resembling a human effigy" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">EFFIGY IN LAVA.</p> + +<p>The distant mountains were covered with their perpetual +mantles of snow. Nearer, on the verge of the valley, +were the red peaks of the foot-hills. To the right +lay the quiet waters of the lake glistening in the sunbeams. +In front, a great black fissure stretched from the +shores of the lake to the base of the mountains, presenting +to the eye an impassable barrier. This was the famous +Hrafnajau—the uncouth and terrible twin-brother +of the Almannajau.</p> + +<p>A toilsome ride of eight miles brought us to the edge +of the Pass, which in point of rugged grandeur far surpasses +the Almannajau, though it lacks the extent and +symmetry which give the latter such a remarkable effect. +Here was a tremendous gap in the earth, over a hundred +feet deep, hacked and shivered into a thousand fantastic +shapes; the sides a succession of the wildest accidents; +the bottom a chaos of broken lava, all tossed about in +the most terrific confusion. It is not, however, the extraordinary +desolation of the scene that constitutes its +principal interest. The resistless power which had rent +the great lava-bed asunder, as if touched with pity at the +ruin, had also flung from the tottering cliffs a causeway +across the gap, which now forms the only means of passing +over the great Hrafnajau. No human hands could +have created such a colossal work as this; the imagination +is lost in its massive grandeur; and when we reflect +that miles of an almost impassable country would +otherwise have to be traversed in order to reach the opposite +side of the gap, the conclusion is irresistible that +in the battle of the elements Nature still had a kindly +remembrance of man.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_hrafnajau" id="the_hrafnajau"></a> +<img src="images/thor098.png" width="600" height="466" +alt="Riders cross the causeway spanning the chasm" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE HRAFNAJAU.</p> + +<p>Five or six miles beyond the Hrafnajau, near the summit +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_497" id="Page_497"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_498" id="Page_498">[498]</a></span> +of a dividing ridge, we came upon a very singular +volcanic formation called the Tintron. It stands, a little +to the right of the trail, on a rise of scoria and burned +earth, from which it juts up in rugged relief to the height +of twenty or thirty feet. This is, strictly speaking, a +huge clinker not unlike what comes out of a grate—hard, +glassy in spots, and scraggy all over. The top part is +shaped like a shell; in the centre is a hole about three +feet in diameter, which opens into a vast subterranean +cavity of unknown depth. Whether the Tintron is an +extinct crater, through which fires shot out of the earth +in by-gone times, or an isolated mass of lava, whirled +through the air out of some distant volcano, is a question +that geologists must determine. The probability is that +it is one of those natural curiosities so common in Iceland +which defy research. The whole country is full of +anomalies—bogs where one would expect to find dry +land, and parched deserts where it would not seem +strange to see bogs; fire where water ought to be, and +water in the place of fire.</p> + +<p>While the pack-train followed the trail, Zöega suggested +that the Tintron had never been sketched, and if I felt +disposed to “take it down”—as he expressed it—he +would wait for me in the valley below; so I took it down.</p> + +<p>During this day’s journey we crossed many small rivers +which had been much swollen by the recent rains. +The fording-places, however, were generally good, and +we got over them without being obliged to swim our +horses. One river, the Brúará, gave me some uneasiness. +When we arrived at the banks it presented a very formidable +obstacle. At the only place where it was practicable +to reach the water it was a raging torrent over +fifty yards wide, dashing furiously over a bed of lava +with a velocity and volume that bade apparent defiance +to any attempt at crossing. In the middle was a great +fissure running parallel with the course of the water, into +which the current converged from each side, forming a +series of cataracts that shook the earth, and made a loud +reverberation from the depths below.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_499" id="Page_499">[499]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_tintron_rock" id="the_tintron_rock"></a> +<img src="images/thor099.png" width="600" height="451" +alt="Men climb around the base of the Tintron rock" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE TINTRON ROCK.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_500" id="Page_500">[500]</a></span> +I stopped on an elevated bank to survey the route before +us. There seemed to be no possible way of getting +over. It was all a wild roaring flood plunging madly +down among the rocks. While I was thinking what +was to be done, Zöega, with a crack of his whip, drove +the animals into the water and made a bold dash after +them. It then occurred to me that there was a good +deal of prudence in the advice given by an Icelandic traveler: +“<em>Never go into a river till your guide has tried it.</em>” +Should Zöega be swept down over the cataract, as appeared +quite probable, there would be no necessity for +me to follow him. I had a genuine regard for the poor +fellow, and it would pain me greatly to lose him; but +then he was paid so much per day for risking his life, and +how could I help it if he chose to pursue such a perilous +career? Doubtless he had come near being drowned +many a time before; he seemed to be used to it. All I +could do for him in the present instance would be to +break the melancholy intelligence to his wife as tenderly +as possible. While thus philosophizing, Zöega plunged +in deeper and deeper till he was surrounded by the raging +torrent on the very verge of the great fissure. Was it +possible he was going to force his horse into it? Surely +the man must be crazy.</p> + +<p>“Stop, Zöega! stop!” I shouted, at the top of my voice; +“you’ll be swept over the precipice. There’s a great +gap in the river just before you.”</p> + +<p>“All right, sir!” cried Zöega. “Come on, sir!”</p> + +<p>Again and again I called to him to stop but he seemed +to lose my voice in the roar of the falling waters. Dashing +about after the scattered animals, he whipped them +all up to the brink of the precipice, and then quietly walked +his own horse across on what looked to me like a +streak of foam. The others followed, and in a few minutes +they all stood safely on the opposite bank. I thought +this was very strange. A remote suspicion flashed across +my mind that Zöega was in league with some of those +water-spirits which are said to infest the rivers of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_501" id="Page_501">[501]</a></span> +Iceland. Wondering what they would say to a live Californian, +I plunged in and followed the route taken by my +guide. Upon approaching the middle of the river I discovered +that what appeared to be a streak of foam was +in reality a wooden platform stretched across the chasm +and covered by a thin sheet of water. It was pinned +down to the rocks at each end, and was well braced with +rafters underneath. From this the river derives its name—Brúará, +or the Bridge.</p> + +<p>The general aspect of the country differed but little +from what I have already attempted to describe. Vast +deserts of lava, snow-capped mountains in the distance, +a few green spots here and there, and no apparent sign +of habitation—these were its principal features. Below +the falls the scene was peculiarly wild and characteristic. +Tremendous masses of lava cast at random amid the roaring +waters; great fissures splitting the earth asunder in +all directions; every where marks of violent convulsion. +In the following sketch I have endeavored to depict some +of these salient points. When it is taken into consideration +that the wind blew like a hurricane through the +craggy ravines; that the rain and spray whirled over, and +under, and almost through me; that it was difficult to +stand on any elevated spot without danger of being blown +over, I hope some allowance will be made for the imperfections +of the performance.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="bridge_river" id="bridge_river"></a> +<img src="images/thor100.png" width="600" height="443" +alt="A winding river rushes its way through a valley" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">BRIDGE RIVER.</p> + +<p>About midway between Thingvalla and the Geysers +we descended into a beautiful little valley, covered with +a fine growth of grass, where we stopped to change +horses and refresh ourselves with a lunch. While Zöega +busied himself arranging the packs and saddles, our indefatigable +little dog Brusa availed himself of the opportunity +to give chase to a flock of sheep. Zöega shouted +at him as usual, and as usual Brusa only barked the louder +and ran the faster. The sheep scattered over the valley, +Brusa pursuing all the loose members of the flock +with a degree of energy and enthusiasm that would have +done credit to a better cause. Upon the lambs he was +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_502" id="Page_502"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_503" id="Page_503">[503]</a></span> +particularly severe. Many of them must have been stunted +in their growth for life by the fright they received; +and it was not until he had tumbled half a dozen of them +heels over head, and totally dispersed the remainder, +that he saw fit to return to head-quarters. The excitement +once over, he of course began to consider the consequences, +and I must say he looked as mean as it was +possible for an intelligent dog to look. Zöega took him +by the nape of the neck with a relentless hand, and heaving +a profound sigh, addressed a pathetic remonstrance +to him in the Icelandic language, giving it weight and +emphasis by a sharp cut of his whip after every sentence. +This solemn duty performed to his satisfaction, and greatly +to Brusa’s satisfaction when it was over, we mounted +our horses once more and proceeded on our journey.</p> + +<p>A considerable portion of this day’s ride was over a +rolling country, somewhat resembling the foot-hills in +certain parts of California. On the right was an extensive +plain, generally barren, but showing occasional green +patches; and on the left a rugged range of mountains, +not very high, but strongly marked by volcanic signs. +We passed several lonely little huts, the occupants of +which rarely made their appearance. Sheep, goats, and +sometimes horses, dotted the pasture-lands. There was +not much vegetation of any kind save patches of grass +and brushwood. A species of white moss covered the +rocks in places, presenting the appearance of hoar-frost +at a short distance.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_L" id="CHAPTER_L"></a>CHAPTER L.</h2> + +<h3>THE GEYSERS.</h3> + + +<p>Upon turning the point of a hill where our trail was +a little elevated above the great valley, Zöega called my +attention to a column of vapor that seemed to rise out +of the ground about ten miles distant. For all I could +judge, it was smoke from some settler’s cabin situated +in a hollow of the slope.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_504" id="Page_504">[504]</a></span> +“What’s that, Zöega?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“That’s the Geysers, sir,” he replied, as coolly as if it +were the commonest thing in the world to see the famous +Geysers of Iceland.</p> + +<p>“The Geysers! That little thing the Geysers?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Dear me! who would ever have thought it?”</p> + +<p>I may as well confess at once that I was sadly disappointed. +It was a pleasure, of course, to see what I had +read of and pictured to my mind, from early boyhood; +but this contemptible little affair looked very much like +a humbug. A vague idea had taken possession of my +mind that I would see a whole district of country shooting +up hot water and sulphurous vapors—a kind of hell +upon earth; but that thing ahead of us—that little curl +of smoke on the horizon looked so peaceful, so inadequate +a result of great subterranean fires, that I could not but +feel some resentment toward the travelers who had preceded +me, and whose glowing accounts of the Geysers +had deceived me. At this point of view it was not at +all equal to the Geysers of California. I had a distinct +recollection of the great cañon between Russian River +Valley and Clear Lake, the magnificent hills on the route, +the first glimpse of the infernal scene far down in the bed +of the cañon, the boiling, hissing waters, and clouds of +vapor whirling up among the rocks, the towering crags +on the opposite side, and the noble forests of oak and +pine that spread “a boundless contiguity of shade” over +the wearied traveler, and I must say a patriotic pride +took possession of my soul. We had beaten the world +in the production of gold; our fruits were finer and our +vegetables larger than any ever produced in other countries; +our men taller and stronger, our women prettier +and more prolific, our lawsuits more extensive, our fights +the best ever gotten up, our towns the most rapidly built +and rapidly burned—in short, every thing was on a grand, +wide, broad, tall, fast, overwhelming scale, that bid defiance +to competition, and now I was satisfied we could +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_505" id="Page_505">[505]</a></span> +even beat old Iceland in the matters of Geysers. I really +felt a contempt for that little streak of smoke. Perhaps +something in the expression of my eye may have betrayed +my thoughts, for Zöega, as if he felt a natural pride +in the wonders of Iceland and wished them to be properly +appreciated, hastily added, “But you must not judge +of the Geysers by what you now see, sir! That is only +the little Geyser. He don’t blow up much. The others +are behind the first rise of ground.”</p> + +<p>“That may be, Zöega. I have no doubt they are very +fine, but it is not within the bounds of possibility that +they should equal the Geysers of California.”</p> + +<p>“Indeed, sir! I didn’t know you had Geysers there.”</p> + +<p>“Didn’t know it! Never heard of the Geysers of +California?”</p> + +<p>“Never, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Well, Zöega, that is remarkable. Our Geysers are +the finest, the bitterest, the smokiest, the noisiest, the +most infernal in the world; and as for mountains, our +Shasta Bute would knock your Mount Hecla into a cocked +hat!”</p> + +<p>“Is it possible!”</p> + +<p>“Of course it is.”</p> + +<p>“And have you great lava-beds covering whole valleys +as we have here?”</p> + +<p>“Certainly—only they are made of gold. We call +them Placers—Gold Placers.”</p> + +<p>“A wonderful country, sir!”</p> + +<p>“Would you like to go there, Zöega?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; I’d rather stay here.”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 399px;"> +<a name="shepherd_and_family" id="shepherd_and_family"></a> +<img src="images/thor101.png" width="399" height="500" +alt="An extended family, with at least seven adults and nine children" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SHEPHERD AND FAMILY.</p> + +<p>And so we talked, Zöega and I, as we jogged along +pleasantly on our way. Our ride, after we caught the +first sight of the smoke, continued for some two hours +over a series of low hills, with little green valleys lying +between, till we came to an extensive bog that skirts the +base of the Langarfjal, a volcanic bluff forming the background +of the Geysers. It was now becoming interesting. +Half an hour more would settle the matter conclusively +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_506" id="Page_506">[506]</a></span> +between California and Iceland. Crossing the bog +where it was not very wet, we soon came to a group of +huts at the turning-point of the hill, where we were met +by a shepherd and his family. All turned out, big and +little, to see the strangers. The man and his wife were +fair specimens of Icelandic peasantry—broad-faced, blue-eyed, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_507" id="Page_507">[507]</a></span> +and good-natured, with yellowish hair, and a sort +of mixed costume, between the civilized and the barbarous. +The children, of which there must have been over +a dozen, were of the usual cotton-head species found in +all Northern countries, and wore any thing apparently +they could get, from the cast-off rags of their parents to +sheepskins and raw hide. Nothing could surpass the +friendly interest of the old shepherd. He asked Zöega +a thousand questions about the “gentleman,” and begged +that we would dismount and do him the honor to take a +cup of coffee, which his wife would prepare for us in five +minutes. Knowing by experience that five minutes in +Iceland means any time within five hours, I was reluctantly +obliged to decline the invitation. The poor fellow +seemed much disappointed, and evidently was sincere in +his offers of hospitality. To compromise the matter, we +borrowed a spade from him, and requested him to send +some milk down to our camp as soon as the cows were +milked.</p> + +<p>Although these worthy people lived not over half a +mile from the Geysers, they could not tell us when the +last eruption had taken place—a most important thing +for us to know, as the success of the trip depended almost +entirely upon the length of time which had elapsed +since that event. The man said he never took notice of +the eruptions. He saw the water shooting up every few +days, but paid no particular attention to it. There might +have been an eruption yesterday, or this morning, for all +he knew; it was impossible for him to say positively. +“In truth, good friend,” said he to Zöega, “my head is +filled with sheep, and they give me trouble enough.” It +was evidently filled with something, for he kept scratching +it all the time he was talking.</p> + +<p>Many travelers have been compelled to wait a week +for an eruption of the Great Geyser, though the interval +between the eruptions is not usually more than three +days. A good deal depends upon the previous state of +the weather, whether it has been wet or dry. Sometimes +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_508" id="Page_508">[508]</a></span> +the eruptions take place within twenty-four hours, but +not often. The Great Geyser is a very capricious old +gentleman, take him as you will. He goes up or keeps +quiet just to suit himself, and will not put himself the +least out of the way to oblige anybody. Even the Prince +Napoleon, who visited this region a few years ago, spent +two days trying to coax the grumbling old fellow to favor +him with a performance, but all to no purpose. The +prince was no more to a Great Geyser than the commonest +shepherd—not so much, in fact, for his finest displays +are said to be made when nobody but some poor shepherd +of the neighborhood is about. In former times the +eruptions were much more frequent than they are now, +occurring at least every six hours, and often at periods +of only three or four. Gradually they have been diminishing +in force and frequency, and it is not improbable +they will cease altogether before the lapse of another +century. According to the measurements given by various +travelers, among whom may be mentioned Dr. Henderson, +Sir George Mackenzie, Forbes, Metcalfe, and Lord +Dufferin, the height to which the water is ejected varies +from eighty to two hundred feet. It is stated that these +Geysers did not exist prior to the fifteenth century; and +one eruption—that of 1772—is estimated by Olsen and +Paulsen to have reached the extraordinary height of three +hundred and sixty feet. All these measurements appear +to me to be exaggerated.</p> + +<p>Ascending a slope of dry incrusted earth of a red and +yellowish color, we first came upon the Little Geyser, a +small orifice in the ground, from which a column of steam +arose. A bubbling sound as of boiling water issued from +the depths below, but otherwise it presented no remarkable +phenomena. In a few minutes more we stood in +the middle of a sloping plateau of some half a mile in circuit, +which declines into an extensive valley on the right. +Within the limits of this area there are some forty springs +and fissures which emit hot water and vapors. None of +them are of any considerable size, except the Great +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_509" id="Page_509">[509]</a></span> +Geyser, the Strokhr, and the Little Geyser. The earth seems +to be a mere crust of sulphurous deposits, and burnt clay, +and rotten trap-rock, and is destitute of vegetation except +in a few spots, where patches of grass and moss present +a beautiful contrast to the surrounding barrenness. +In its quiescent state the scene was not so striking as I +had expected, though the whirling volumes of smoke +that filled the air, and the strange sounds that issued +from the ground in every direction, filled my mind with +strong premonitions of what might take place at any +moment. I did not yet relinquish my views in reference +to the superiority of the California Geysers; still, I began +to feel some misgiving about it when I looked around +and saw the vastness of the scale upon which the fixtures +were arranged here for hydraulic entertainments. If we +could beat Iceland in the beauty of our scenery, it was +quite apparent that the advantage lay here in the breadth +and extent of the surrounding desolation—the great lava-fields, +the snow-capped Jokuls, and the distant peaks of +Mount Hecla.</p> + +<p>We rode directly toward the Great Geyser, which we +approached within about fifty yards. Here was the +camping-ground—a pleasant little patch of green sod, +where the various travelers who had preceded us had +pitched their tents. Zöega knew every spot. He had +accompanied most of the distinguished gentlemen who +had honored the place with their presence, and had something +to say in his grave, simple way about each of them. +Here stood Lord Dufferin’s tent. A lively young gentleman +he was; a very nice young man; told some queer +stories about the Icelanders; didn’t see much of the +country, but made a very nice book about what he saw; +had a great time at the governor’s, and drank every body +drunk under the table, etc. Here, close by, the Prince +Napoleon pitched his tent—a large tent, very handsomely +decorated; room for all his officers; very fine gentleman +the prince; had lots of money; drank plenty of +Champagne; a fat gentleman, not very tall; had blackish +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_510" id="Page_510">[510]</a></span> +hair, and talked French; didn’t see the Great Geyser +go up, but saw the Strokhr, etc. Here was Mr. Metcalfe’s +tent; a queer gentleman, Mr. Metcalfe; rather +rough in his dress; wrote a funny book about Iceland; +told some hard things on the priests; they didn’t like it +at all; didn’t know what to make of Mr. Metcalfe, etc. +Here was Mr. Chambers’s camp—a Scotch gentleman; +very nice man, plain and sensible; wrote a pamphlet, etc. +And here was an old tent-mark, almost rubbed out, +where an American gentleman camped about ten years +ago; thought his name was Mr. Miles. This traveler +also wrote a book, and told some funny stories.</p> + +<p>“Was it Pliny Miles?” I asked.</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, that was his name. I was with him all the +time.”</p> + +<p>“Have you his book?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir, I have his book at home. A very queer +gentleman, Mr. Miles; saw a great many things that I +didn’t see; says he came near getting drowned in a river.”</p> + +<p>“And didn’t he?”</p> + +<p>“Well, sir, I don’t know. I didn’t see him when he +was near being drowned. You crossed the river, sir, +yourself, and know whether it is dangerous.”</p> + +<p>“Was it the Brúará?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; one of the other little rivers, about knee-deep.”</p> + +<p>Here was food for reflection. Zöega, with his matter-of-fact +eyes, evidently saw things in an entirely different +light from that in which they presented themselves to +the enthusiastic tourists who accompanied him. Perhaps +he would some time or other be pointing out my +tent to some inquisitive visitor, and giving him a running +criticism upon my journal of experiences in Iceland. +I deemed it judicious, therefore, to explain to him that +gentlemen who traveled all the way to Iceland were +bound to see something and meet with some thrilling adventures. +If they didn’t tell of very remarkable things, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_511" id="Page_511">[511]</a></span> +nobody would care about reading their books. This was +the great art of travel; it was not exactly lying, but putting +on colors to give the picture effect.</p> + +<p>“For my part, Zöega,” said I, “having no great skill +as an artist, and being a very plain, unimaginative man, +as you know, I shall confine myself strictly to facts. Perhaps +there will be novelty enough in telling the truth to +attract attention.”</p> + +<p>“The truth is always the best, sir,” replied Zöega, +gravely and piously.</p> + +<p>“Of course it is, Zöega. This country is sufficiently +curious in itself. It does not require the aid of fiction +to give it effect. Therefore, should you come across any +thing in my narrative which may have escaped your notice, +depend upon it I thought it was true—or ought to +be.”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir; I know you would never lie like some of +these gentlemen.”</p> + +<p>“Never! never, Zöega! I scorn a lying traveler above +all things on earth.”</p> + +<p>But these digressions, however amusing they were +at the time, can scarcely be of much interest to the reader.</p> + +<p>Even after the lapse of several years the marks around +the camping-ground were quite fresh. The sod is of very +fine texture, and the grass never grows very rank, so +that wherever a trench is cut to let off the rain, it remains, +with very little alteration, for a great length of +time.</p> + +<p>On the principle that a sovereign of the United States +ought never to rank himself below a prince of any other +country, I selected a spot a little above the camping-ground +of his excellency the Prince Napoleon. By the +aid of my guide I soon had the tent pitched. It was a +small affair—only an upright pole, a few yards of canvas, +and four wooden pins. The whole concern did not weigh +twenty pounds, and only covered an area of ground about +four feet by six. Zöega then took the horses to a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_512" id="Page_512">[512]</a></span> +pasture up the valley. I amused myself making a few sketches +of the surrounding objects, and thinking how strange +it was to be here all alone at the Geysers of Iceland. +How many of my friends knew where I was? Not one, +perhaps. And should all the Geysers blow up together +and boil me on the spot, what would people generally +think of it? Or suppose the ground were to give way +and swallow me up, what difference would it make in the +price of consols or the temperature of the ocean?</p> + +<p>When Zöega came back, he said, if I pleased, we would +now go to work and cut sods for the Strokhr. It was +a favorable time “to see him heave up.” The way to +make him do that was to make him sick. Sods always +made him sick. They didn’t agree with his stomach. +Every gentleman who came here made it a point to stir +him up. He was called the Strokhr because he churned +things that were thrown down his throat; and Strokhr +means <em>churn</em>. I was very anxious to see the performance +suggested by Zöega, and readily consented to assist +him in getting the sods.</p> + +<p>The Strokhr lay about a hundred yards from our tent, +nearly in a line between the Great and Little Geysers. +Externally it presents no very remarkable feature, being +nothing more than a hole in the bed of rocks, about five +feet in diameter, and slightly funnel-shaped at the orifice. +Standing upon the edge, one can see the water boiling +up and whirling over about twenty feet below. A hollow, +growling noise is heard, varied by an occasional hiss +and rush, as if the contents were struggling to get out. +It emits hot vapors, and a slight smell of sulphur; +otherwise it maintains rather a peaceful aspect, considering +the infernal temper it gets into when disturbed.</p> + +<p>Zöega and I worked hard cutting and carrying the +sods for nearly half an hour, by which time we had a +large pile on the edge of the orifice. Zöega said there +was enough. I insisted on getting more. “Let us give +him a dose that he won’t forget.” “Oh, sir, nobody ever +puts more than that in; it is quite enough.” “No; I +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_513" id="Page_513">[513]</a></span> +mean to make him deadly sick. Come on, Zöega.” And +at it we went again, cutting the sod, and carrying it over +and piling it up in a great heap by the hole. When we +had about a ton all ready, I said to Zöega, “Now, Zöega, +fire away, and I’ll stand here and see how it works.” +Then Zöega pushed it all over, and it went slapping and +dashing down into the steaming shaft. For a little while +it whirled about, and surged, and boiled, and tumbled +over and over in the depths of the churn with a hollow, +swashing noise terribly ominous of what was to come. +I peeped over the edge to try if I could detect the first +symptoms of the approaching eruption. Zöega walked +quietly away about twenty steps, saying he preferred not +to be too close. There was a sudden growl and a rumble, +a terrible plunging about and swashing of the sods +below, and fierce, whirling clouds of steam flew up, almost +blinding me as they passed.</p> + +<p>“Sir,” said Zöega, gravely, “you had better stand +away. It comes up very suddenly when it once starts.”</p> + +<p>“Don’t be afraid, Zöega; I’ll keep a sharp look-out +for it. You may depend there’s not a Geyser in Iceland +can catch me when I make a break.”</p> + +<p>“Very well, sir; but I’d advise you to be careful.”</p> + +<p>Notwithstanding this good counsel, I could not resist +the fascination of looking in. There was another tremendous +commotion going on—a roar, a whirling over +of the sods, and clouds of steam flying up. This time I +ran back a few steps. But it was a false alarm. Nothing +came of it. The heaving mass seemed to be producing +the desired effect, however. The Strokhr was evidently +getting very sick. I looked over once more. All +below was a rumbling, tumbling black mass, dashing over +and over against the sides of the churn. Soon a threatening +roar not to be mistaken startled me. “Look out, +sir!” shouted Zöega; “look out!” Unlike the Frenchman +who looked out when he should have looked in, I +unconsciously looked in when I should have looked out. +With a suddenness that astonished me, up shot the seething +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_514" id="Page_514">[514]</a></span> +mass almost in my face. One galvanic jump—an involuntary +shout of triumph—and I was rolling heels over +head on the crust of earth about ten feet off, the hot water +and clumps of sod tumbling down about me in every +direction. Another scramble brought me to my feet, of +which I made such good use that I was forty yards beyond +Zöega before I knew distinctly what had happened. +The poor fellow came running toward me in great consternation.</p> + +<p>“Are you hurt, sir? I hope you’re not hurt!” he +cried, in accents of great concern.</p> + +<p>“Hurt!” I answered. “Didn’t you see me rolling +over on the ground laughing at it? Why, Zöega, I never +saw any thing so absurd as that in my life; any decent +Geyser would have given at least an hour’s notice. +This miserable little wretch went off half cocked. I was +just laughing to think how sick we made him all of a +sudden!”</p> + +<p>“Oh, that was it, sir! I thought you were badly +hurt.”</p> + +<p>“Not a bit of it. You never saw a man who had suffered +serious bodily injury run and jump with joy, and +roll with laughter as I did.”</p> + +<p>“No, sir, never, now that I come to think of it.”</p> + +<p>Somehow it was always pleasant to talk with Zöega, +his simplicity was so refreshing.</p> + +<p>The display was really magnificent. An immense dark +column shot into the air to the height of sixty or seventy +feet, composed of innumerable jets of water and whirling +masses of sod. It resembled a thousand fountains joined +together, each with a separate source of expulsion. The +hissing hot water, blackened by the boiled clay and turf, +spurted up in countless revolving circlets, spreading out +in every direction and falling in torrents over the earth, +which was deluged for fifty feet around with the dark, +steaming flood. This, again sweeping into the mouth +of the funnel, fell in thick streams into the churn, carrying +with it the sods that were scattered within its +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_515" id="Page_515">[515]</a></span> +vortex, and once more heaved and surged about in the huge +caldron below.</p> + +<p>The eruption continued for about five minutes without +any apparent diminution of force. It then subsided +into fitful and convulsive jets, as if making a last effort, +and finally disappeared with a deep growl of disappointment. +All was now quiet save the gurgling of the +murky water as it sought its way back. Zöega said it +was not done yet—that this was only a beginning. I +took my sketch-book and resolved to seize the next opportunity +for a good view of the eruption, taking, in the +mean time, a general outline of the locality, including a +glimpse of the Langarfjal. Just as I had finished up to +the orifice the same angry roar which had first startled +me was repeated, and up shot the dark, boiling flood in +grander style than ever. This time it was absolutely +fearful. There could be no doubt the dose of sods we +had tumbled into the stomach of the old gentleman was +making him not only dreadfully sick, but furiously angry.</p> + +<p>At this moment, as if the elements sympathized in his +distress, fierce gusts of wind began to blow down from +the Langarfjal. So sudden and violent were they that +it was difficult to maintain a foothold in our exposed position; +and the tall column of fountains, struck with the +full violence of the wind, presented a splendid spectacle +of strength and rage—surging, and swaying, and battling +to maintain its erect position, and showing in every motion +the irresistible power with which it was ejected. +Steam, and water, and sods went whirling down into the +valley; the very air was darkened with the shriven and +scattered currents; and a black deluge fell to the leeward, +hundreds of yards beyond the orifice. The weird +and barren aspect of the surrounding scenery was never +more impressive.</p> + +<p>“What do you think of the Strokhr, sir?” asked Zöega, +with some pride. “Is it equal to the Geysers of California?”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_strokhr" id="the_strokhr"></a> +<img src="images/thor102.png" width="600" height="456" +alt="A huge geyser spews out water, steam and clods of earth" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE STROKHR.</p> + +<p>I was rather taken aback at the honest bluntness of +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_516" id="Page_516"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_517" id="Page_517">[517]</a></span> +this question, and must admit that I felt a little crest-fallen +when I came to compare the respective performances. +Therefore I could only answer, in rather a casual way,</p> + +<p>“Well, Zöega, to tell you the truth, ours don’t get +quite so sick as this, owing, no doubt, to the superior salubrity +of our climate. You might throw sods into them +all day, and they wouldn’t make such a fuss about it as +the Strokhr makes about a mere handful. Their digestion, +you see, is a great deal stronger.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, but wait, sir, till you see the Great Geyser; that’s +much better than the Strokhr.”</p> + +<p>“Doubtless it is very fine, Zöega. Still I can’t help +but think our California Geysers are in a superior condition +of health. It is true they smoke a good deal, but I +don’t think they impair their digestion by such stimulating +food as the Geysers of Iceland. Judging by the +eruptions of the Strokhr, I should say he feeds exclusively +on fire and water, which would ruin the best stomach +in the world.”</p> + +<p>Zöega looked troubled. He evidently did not comprehend +my figurative style of speech. So the conversation +dropped.</p> + +<p>The column of water ejected from the Strokhr, unlike +that of the Great Geyser, is tall and slender, and of almost +inky blackness. In the case of the Great Geyser +no artificial means interrupt its operations; in that of +the Strokhr the pressure of foreign substances produces +results not natural to it.</p> + +<p>After the two eruptions which I have attempted to +describe, the waters of the Strokhr again subsided into +sobs and convulsive throes. Some half an hour now +elapsed before any thing more took place. Then there +was another series of growls, and a terrible swashing +about down in the churn, as if all the demons under earth +were trying to drown one another, and up shot the murky +flood for the third time. Thus it continued at intervals +more and more remote, till a late hour in the night, +making desperate efforts to disgorge the sods that were +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_518" id="Page_518">[518]</a></span> +swept back after every ejection, and to rid itself of the +foul water that remained. Those attempts gradually +grow fainter and fainter, subsiding at last into mere grumblings. +I looked into the orifice the next morning, and +was surprised to find the water yet discolored. It was +evident, from the uneasy manner in which it surged about, +that the dose still produced unpleasant effects.</p> + +<p>Having finished my sketch, I returned to the tent, in +front of which Zöega had meantime spread a cloth, with +some bread and cheese on it, and such other scraps of +provisions as we had. A little boy from the neighboring +sheep-ranch brought us down some milk and cream, +and I thought if we only had a cup of tea on to warm +us up after the chilly wind our supper would be luxurious.</p> + +<p>“Just in time, sir,” said Zöega; “I’ll make the tea in +a minute.”</p> + +<p>“Where’s your fire.”</p> + +<p>“Oh, we don’t need fire here—the hot water is always +ready. There’s the big boiler up yonder!”</p> + +<p>I looked where Zöega pointed, and saw, about a hundred +yards off, a boiling caldron. This was our grand +tea-kettle. Upon a nearer inspection, I found that it +consisted of two great holes in the rocks, close together, +the larger of which was about thirty feet in circumference, +and of great depth. The water was as clear as crystal. +It was easy to trace the white stratum of rocks, of +which the sides were formed, down to the neck of the +great shaft through which the water was ejected. Flakes +of steam floated off from the surface of the crystal pool, +which was generally placid. Only at occasional intervals +did it show any symptoms of internal commotion. +By dipping my finger down a little way I found that it +was boiling hot. Five minutes immersion would be sufficient +to skin and boil an entire man.</p> + +<p>Nature has bountifully put these boilers here for the +use of travelers. Not a stick or twig of wood grows +within a circuit of many miles, and without fuel of course +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_519" id="Page_519">[519]</a></span> +it would be impossible to cook food. Here a leg of mutton +submerged in a pot can be beautifully boiled; plum-puddings +cooked; eggs, fish, or any thing you please, +done to a nicety. All this I knew before, but I had no +idea that the water was pure enough for drinking purposes. +Such, however, is the fact. No better water +ever came out of the earth—in a boiled condition. To +make a pot of tea, you simply put your tea in your pot, +hold on to the handle, dip the whole concern down into +the water, keep it there a while to draw, and your tea is +made.</p> + +<p>I found it excellent, and did not, as I apprehended, discover +any unpleasant flavor in the water. It may be +slightly impregnated with sulphur, though that gives it +rather a wholesome smack. To me, however, it tasted +very much like any other hot water.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<a name="side_saddle" id="side_saddle"></a> +<img src="images/thor103.png" width="400" height="367" +alt="A side-saddle, with low body support and a broad stirrup" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">SIDE-SADDLE.</p> + +<p>When I returned to the tent, and sat down to my frugal +repast, and ate my bread and cheese, and quaffed the +fragrant tea, Zöega sitting near by respectfully assisting +me, something of the old California feeling came over +me, and I enjoyed life once more after years of travel +through the deserts of civilization in Europe. What a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_520" id="Page_520">[520]</a></span> +glorious thing it is to be a natural barbarian! This was +luxury! this was joy! this was Paradise upon earth! +Ah me! where is the country that can equal California? +Brightest of the bright lands of sunshine; richest, rarest, +loveliest of earth’s beauties! like Phædra to the mistress +of his soul, I love you by day and by night, behave in +the company of others as if I were absent; want you; +dream of you; think of you; wish for you; delight in +you—in short, I am wholly yours, body and soul! If +ever I leave you again on a wild-goose chase through +Europe, may the Elector of Hesse-Cassel appoint me his +prime minister, or the Duke of Baden his principal butler!</p> + +<p>Very little indication of the time was apparent in the +sky. The sun still shone brightly, although it was nearly +ten o’clock. I did not feel much inclined to sleep, with +so many objects of interest around. Apart from that, +there was something in this everlasting light that disturbed +my nervous system. It becomes really terrible +in the course of a few days. The whole order of nature +seems reversed. Night has disappeared altogether. +Nothing but day remains—dreary, monotonous, perpetual +day. You crave the relief of darkness; your spirits, +at first exuberant, go down, and still down, till they are +below zero; the novelty wears away, and the very light +becomes gloomy.</p> + +<p>People must sleep, nevertheless. With me it was a +duty I owed to an overtaxed body. Our tent was rather +small for two, and Zöega asked permission to sleep +with an acquaintance who lived in a cabin about two +miles distant. This I readily granted. It was something +of a novelty to be left in charge of two such distinguished +characters as the Great Geyser and the Strokhr. +Possibly they might favor me with some extraordinary +freaks of humor, such as no other traveler had yet enjoyed. +So, bidding Zöega a kindly farewell for the present, +I closed the front of the tent, and tried to persuade myself +that it was night.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_521" id="Page_521">[521]</a></span> +With the light streaming in through the crevices of +the tent, it was no easy matter to imagine that this was +an appropriate time to “steep the senses in forgetfulness.” +I was badly provided with covering, and the +weather, though not absolutely cold, was damp and +chilly. In my hurry to get off, I had forgotten even the +small outfit with which I originally thought of making +the journey. All I now had in the way of bedding was +a thin shawl, and an old overall belonging to Captain +Andersen, of the steamer. I put one on the ground and +the other over my body, and with a bag of hard bread +under my head by way of a pillow, strove to banish the +notion that it was at all uncomfortable. There was +something in this method of sleeping to remind me of my +California experience. To be sure there was a lack of +blankets, and fire, and pleasant company, and balmy air, +and many other luxuries; but the general principle was +the same, except that it was impossible to sleep. The +idea of being utterly alone, in such an outlandish part +of the world, may have had something to do with the +singular activity of my nervous system. It seemed to +me that somebody was thrusting cambric needles into +my skin in a sudden and violent manner, and at the most +unexpected places; and strange sounds were continually +buzzing in my ears. I began to reflect seriously upon +the condition of affairs down underneath my bed. Doubtless +it was a very fiery and restless region, or all these +smokes and simmering pools would not disfigure the face +of the country. How thick was the shell of the earth +at this particular spot? It sounded very thin all over—a +mere crust, through which one might break at any +moment. Here was boiling water fizzing and gurgling +all around, and the air was impregnated with strong +odors of sulphur. Suppose the whole thing should burst +up of a sudden? It was by no means impossible. What +would become of my sketches of Iceland in the event of +such a catastrophe as that? What sort of a notice would +my editorial friends give of the curious manner in which +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_522" id="Page_522">[522]</a></span> +I had disappeared? And what would Zöega think in +the morning, when he came down from the farm-house, +and saw that his tent and provision-boxes were gone +down in a great hole, and that an American gentleman, +in whom he had the greatest confidence, had not only +carried them with him, but failed to pay his liabilities +before starting? Here, too, was the sun only slightly +dipped below the horizon at midnight, and the moon +shining overhead at the same time. Every thing was +twisted inside out and turned upside down. It was truly +a strange country.</p> + +<p>Having tossed and tumbled about for an indefinite +length of time, I must have fallen into an uneasy doze. +During the day I had been thinking of the rebellion at +home, and now gloomy visions disturbed my mind. I +thought I saw moving crowds dressed in black, and heard +wailing sounds. Funerals passed before me, and women +and children wept for the dead. The scene changed, +and I saw hosts of men on the battle-field, rushing upon +each other and falling in deadly strife. A dreary horror +came over me. It was like some dreadful play, in which +the stake was human life. Blood was upon the faces of +the dying and the dead. In the effort to disentangle +the right from the wrong—to seek out a cause for the +calamity which had fallen upon us—a racking anguish +tortured me, and I vainly strove to regain my scattered +senses. Then, in the midst of this confused dream, I +heard the booming of cannon—at first far down in the +earth, but gradually growing nearer, till, with a start, I +awoke. Still the guns boomed! Surely the sounds were +real. I could not be deceived. Starting to my feet, I +listened. Splashing and surging waters, and dull, heavy +reports, sounded in the air. I dashed aside the lining +of the tent and looked out. Never shall I forget that +sight—the Great Geyser in full eruption! A tremendous +volume of water stood in bold relief against the +sky, like a tall weeping willow in winter swaying before +the wind, and shaking the white frost from its drooping +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_523" id="Page_523">[523]</a></span> +branches. Whirling vapors and white wreaths floated +off toward the valley. All was clear overhead. A spectral +light, which was neither of day nor of night, shone +upon the dark, lava-covered earth. The rush and plashing +of the fountain and the booming of the subterranean +guns fell with a startling distinctness upon the solitude. +Streams of glittering white water swept the surface of +the great basin on all sides, and dashed hissing and steaming +into the encircling fissures. A feathery spray sparkled +through the air. The earth trembled, and sudden +gusts of wind whirled down with a moaning sound from +the wild gorges of the Langarfjal.</p> + +<p>It did not appear to me that the height of the fountain +was so great as it is generally represented. So far as I +could judge, the greatest altitude at any time from the +commencement of the eruption was not over sixty feet. +Its volume, however, greatly exceeded my expectations, +and the beauty of its form surpassed all description. I +had never before seen, and never again expect to see, any +thing equal to it. This magnificent display lasted, altogether, +about ten minutes. The eruption was somewhat +spasmodic in its operation, increasing or diminishing +in force at each moment, till, with a sudden dash, all +the water that remained was ejected, and then, after a +few gurgling throes, all was silent.</p> + +<p>I no longer attempted to sleep. My mind was bewildered +with the wonders of the scene I had just witnessed. +All I could do was to make a cup of tea at the big +boiler on the slope above my tent, and walk about, after +drinking it, to keep my feet warm. Soon the sun’s rays +appeared upon the distant mountains. A strange time +of the night for the sun to be getting up—only half past +one—when people in most other parts of the world are +snug in bed, and don’t expect to see a streak of sunshine +for at least four or five hours. How different from any +thing I had ever before seen was the sunrise in Iceland! +No crowing of the cock; no singing of the birds; no +merry plow-boys whistling up the horses in the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_524" id="Page_524">[524]</a></span> +barn-yard; no cherry-cheeked milk-maids singing love-ditties +as they tripped the green with their pails upon their +heads. All was grim, silent, and death-like. And yet +surely, for all that, the delicate tints of the snow-capped +mountains, the peaks of which were now steeped in the +rays of the rising sun, the broad valley slumbering in the +shade, the clear, sparkling atmosphere, and the exquisite +coloring of the Langarfjal—the mighty crag that towers +over the Geysers—were beauties enough to redeem the +solitude and imbue the deserts with a celestial glory.</p> + +<p>There are various theories concerning the cause of +these eruptions of water in Iceland. That of Lyell, the +geologist, seems the most reasonable. The earth, as it is +well known, increases in heat at a certain ratio corresponding +with the depth from the surface. There are +cavities in many parts of it, arising from subterranean +disturbances, into which the water percolates from the +upper strata. In Iceland the probability is that these +cavities are both numerous and extensive, owing to volcanic +causes, and form large receivers for the water of +the surrounding neighborhood. Wherever there is a +natural outlet, as at the Geysers, this water, which is boiled +by the heat of the earth, is forced to the surface by +compression of steam, and remains at the mouth of the +pipe, or shaft, until an accumulation of compressed steam +drives it up in the form of a fountain. The periodical +occurrence of these eruptions in some of the hot-springs +and not in others may arise from a difference in the depth +of the receiver, or more probably from the existence of +several outlets for the escape of steam in some, and only +one in others. A good illustration of this theory is presented +in the boiling of an ordinary tea-kettle. When +the compression of steam is great, the cover is lifted up +and the water shoots from the spout, by which means +the pressure is relieved and the water subsides. The +same thing is repeated until the space within the kettle +becomes sufficiently large to admit of a more rapid condensation +of the steam. The action of the Strokhr, which, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_525" id="Page_525">[525]</a></span> +as I have shown, differs from that of the Great Geyser, +may be accounted for on the same general principle. +The foreign substances thrown in on top of the boiling +water stops the escape of steam, which, under ordinary +circumstances, is sufficiently great not to require the +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_526" id="Page_526">[526]</a></span> +periodical relief of an eruption. An accumulation of compressed +steam takes place in the reservoir below, and +this continues until the obstruction is ejected.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 386px;"> +<a name="geysers_and_receivers" id="geysers_and_receivers"></a> +<img src="images/thor104.png" width="386" height="800" +alt="Diagrams showing the formation of two different geysers" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">GREAT GEYSER AND RECEIVER.<br /> +STROKHR AND RECEIVER.</p> + +<p>This, I believe, is substantially Lyell’s theory; though, +having no books by me at present, I quote entirely from +memory, and it is possible I may be mistaken in some of +the details. The preceding diagrams will enable the +reader to understand more clearly the whole process by +which these eruptions are produced.</p> + +<p>Six long hours remained till ordinary breakfast-time. +What was to be done? It was getting terribly lonesome. +I felt like one who had been to a theatre and +seen all the performances. Zöega had promised to be +back by eight o’clock; but eight o’clock in Iceland, on +the 21st of June, is a late hour of the day. A treatise +on trigonometry might be written between sunrise and +that unapproachable hour. The only thing I could do +was to make some more tea and eat a preliminary breakfast. +When that was done nothing remained but to go +to work in front of my little tent and finish up my rough +sketches. This is a very absorbing business, as every +body knows who has tried it, and I was deeply into it +when Zöega made his appearance.</p> + +<p>“Well, sir,” said he, “what success? Did he erupt?”</p> + +<p>“Of course he erupted, Zöega. You didn’t suppose a +Great Geyser would keep a gentleman all the way from +California waiting here an entire night without showing +him what he could do?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir; but he sometimes disappoints travelers. +How do you like it? Does he compare with your California +Geysers?”</p> + +<p>“Well, Zöega, he throws up more hot water, to be +sure, because our Geysers don’t erupt at all; but here is +the grand difference. We Californians are a moral people; +we don’t live so near to (I pointed down below) as +you do in Iceland.”</p> + +<p>“I don’t understand you, sir,” said Zöega, with a puzzled +expression.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_527" id="Page_527">[527]</a></span> +I called him over and whispered in his ear, “Zöega, I +hope you’re a good man. Do you say your prayers regularly?”</p> + +<p>“Yes, sir.”</p> + +<p>“Then you are all right. Let us be going. I don’t +like this neighborhood.”</p> + +<p>“Whenever you wish, sir. The horses are all ready.”</p> + +<p>And Zöega proceeded to strike the tent and pack the +animals, muttering to himself and shaking his head gravely, +as if he thought the Californians were a very peculiar +race of men, to say the least of them.</p> + +<p>Another cup of tea and a few biscuits served to brace +us up for the journey, and we mounted our horses and +turned their heads homeward. Brusa was so delighted +at the idea of being <i>en route</i> once more that he signalized +our departure by giving chase to a flock of sheep, +which he dispersed in a most miraculous manner, and +then, of course, received the customary punishment.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LI" id="CHAPTER_LI"></a>CHAPTER LI.</h2> + +<h3>THE ENGLISH SPORTS IN TROUBLE.</h3> + + +<p>Our ride back to Thingvalla was over the same trail +which we had traveled on the preceding day, with the +exception of a short cut to the right of the Tintron rock. +We made very good speed, and reached the Parsonage +early in the afternoon.</p> + +<p>During our absence a young Englishman had arrived +from the North, where he had been living for a year. I +found him in the travelers’ room, surrounded by a confused +medley of boxes, bags, books, and Icelandic curiosities, +which he was endeavoring to reduce to some kind +of order. Had I not been told he was an Englishman I +should never have suspected it, either from his appearance +or manner. When I entered the room he stood up +and looked at me, and I must say, without intending him +the slightest disrespect, that he was the most extraordinary +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_528" id="Page_528">[528]</a></span> +looking man I ever saw in all my life, not excepting +a tattooed African chief that I once met at Zanzibar. +Whether he was young or old it was impossible to say—he +might be twenty-five or just as likely fifty. Dirty +and discolored with travel, his face was generally dark, +though it was somewhat relieved by spots of yellow. +His features were regular, and of almost feminine softness; +his eyes were dark brown; and his hair, which +was nearly black, hung down over his shoulders in lank +straight locks, sunburnt or frostbitten at the ends. On +his head he wore a tall, conical green wool hat, with a +broad brim, and a brown band tied in a true lover’s knot +at one side. The remainder of his costume consisted of +a black cloth roundabout, threadbare and dirty; a pair +of black casimere pantaloons, very tight about the legs +and burst open in several places; and a pair of moccasins +on his feet, adorned with beads and patches of red +flannel. If he wore a shirt it was not conspicuous for +whiteness, for I failed to discover it. When he saw that +a stranger stood before him, he looked quite overwhelmed +with astonishment, and gasped out some inarticulate +words, consisting principally of Icelandic interjections.</p> + +<p>“How do you do, sir?” said I, in the usual California +style. “I’m glad to meet an Englishman in this wild +country!”</p> + +<p>“Ye’ow-w-w!” (a prolonged exclamation.)</p> + +<p>“Just arrived, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Nay-y-y!” (a prolonged negative.)</p> + +<p>“You speak English, I believe, sir?”</p> + +<p>“Oh-h-h! Ya-a-a-s. Are—you—an—Englishman?”</p> + +<p>“No, sir. An American, from California.”</p> + +<p>“De-e-e-a-r-r m-e-e!”</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 389px;"> +<a name="oh_o_o_ah" id="oh_o_o_ah"></a> +<img src="images/thor105.png" width="389" height="500" +alt="The strange Englishman" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">OH-O-O-AH!</p> + +<p>Here there was a pause, for I really did not know what +to make of the man. He looked at the ceiling, and at +the floor, and out of the window, and started a remark +several times, but always stopped before he got under +way, or lost it in a prolonged “Oh-o-o-a!” Again and +again he attempted to speak, never getting beyond a +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_529" id="Page_529">[529]</a></span> +word or two. It seemed as if some new idea were continually +crossing his mind and depriving him of his breath: +he labored under a chronic astonishment. At first I supposed +it might be the natural result of a year’s absence +in the interior of Iceland, but subsequent acquaintance +with him satisfied me that it was constitutional. He +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_530" id="Page_530">[530]</a></span> +was astonished all the way from Reykjavik to Scotland. +When it rained he opened his eyes as if they would +burst; looked up in the sky, and cried “Oh-h-h!” When +it blew he tumbled into his berth, covered himself up in +the blankets, peeped out in the most profound amazement, +and ejaculated “Ah-h-h! Oh-h-h! Hay-y-y! +Ye’ow-w-w!” When the weather was fine he came up +on deck, peered over the bulwarks, up at the rigging, +down into the engine-room, and was perfectly astounded +at each object, exclaiming alternately “Oh-h-o-o-a-a-h!” +“Ah-ha!” “H-a-y!” and “Ye’ow-w-w-w!” At Thingvalla +his main food was curds and black bread, yet he +had an abundance of the best provisions. He was a +thorough Icelandic scholar, and spoke the language with +ease and grace, only when interrupted by the novel ideas +that so often struck him in the head. With all his oddity, +he was a gentleman by birth and education, and was +very amiable in his disposition. He had evidently spent +much of his life over books; his knowledge of the world +scarcely equaled that of a child. From all that I could +gather of his winter’s experiences in North Iceland, the +climate was not very severe, except at occasional intervals +when there was a press of ice-fields along the coast. +The mean temperature was quite moderate. He suffered +no inconvenience at all from the weather. At times +it was very pleasant. He had the misfortune to break +his leg in climbing over some lava-bergs, which crippled +him for some weeks, but he was now getting all right +again. This account of his experiences, which I obtained +from him during the evening, took many divergences +into the “Ohs!” and “Ahs!” and was really both instructive +and entertaining. When he came to the breaking +of his leg, I expressed my astonishment at the equanimity +with which he bore it, which so astonished him, +when he came to think of it in that light, that he cried +“Oh-h-a-a! ya-a-s! It—was—very—bad!” as if he had +entirely forgotten how bad it was, and now made a new +and most singular discovery.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_531" id="Page_531">[531]</a></span> +As there was only the one small room we had to sleep +at pretty close quarters, the Englishman on the sofa and +I in the bed, which for some reason was awarded to me +by the good pastor. Having no preference, I offered to +exchange; but this only astonished my eccentric neighbor, +and set him off into a labyrinth of interjections. Our +heads were placed pretty close together, and it was some +time before I could settle myself to sleep, owing to a variety +of peculiar sounds he made in whispering to himself. +He seemed to be telling himself some interminable +story from one of the Sagas. Several times I dozed +off, and was awakened by some extraordinary ejaculation.</p> + +<p>“I beg your pardon,” said I, at length, rising up, and +looking in the face of my neighbor, who was lying on +his back, with his eyes wide open, “I beg your pardon, +sir; did you speak to me?”</p> + +<p>“Oh-h-h-a!” shouted the Englishman, jumping up as +if touched with a streak of electricity. “Dear me! ha—oh-o-o! +How very odd!”</p> + +<p>“Sir?”</p> + +<p>“Eh?”</p> + +<p>“Good-night, sir!” I said, and lay down again. The +Englishman also composed himself to rest, but presently +rose up, and looking over at me, exclaimed “Oh-o-o-ah!”</p> + +<p>This was all. Then we both composed ourselves to +sleep. Tired as I was after my ride from the Geysers +and the bad night I had passed there, it was no wonder +I soon lost all consciousness of the proximity of my eccentric +room-mate, and the probability is I would have +gotten well through the night but for another singular +and unexpected interruption.</p> + +<p>“Hello! What the devil! Who’s here? By Jove, +this is jolly! I say! Where the dooce is our American +friend? Down, Bowser! Down! Blawst the dog! +Ho! ho! Look there, Tompkins! I say! Here’s a go!”</p> + +<p>There was a tramping of feet, a knocking about of +loose things in the room, and a chorus of familiar voices +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_532" id="Page_532">[532]</a></span> +in the adjoining passage. It is needless to say that the +party of sporting Englishmen had arrived from Reykjavik.</p> + +<p>“Oh-h-a! Ye-o-w!” exclaimed my room-mate, starting +up, and gazing wildly at the lively young gentleman +with the dog. “Oh-o-o! How very odd!”</p> + +<p>The jolly sportsman looked at the apparition in perfect +amazement. Both stared at each other for a moment, +as if such an extraordinary sight had never been +witnessed on either side before.</p> + +<p>“By Jove! this is jolly!” muttered the lively gentleman, +turning on his heel and walking out; “a devilish +rum-looking chap, that!”</p> + +<p>“Oh-o-o-o!” was all my astonished room-mate said, +after which he turned over and composed himself to +sleep. I had purposely refrained from manifesting any +symptoms of wakefulness, well-knowing that there would +be no farther rest that night if I once discovered myself +to the traveling party.</p> + +<p>At a seasonable hour in the morning, however, I got +up, and looked about in search of my fellow-passengers, +whom I really liked, and in whose progress I felt a considerable +interest. They were camped close by the church, +under the lee of the front door. Two canvas tents covered +what was left of them. A general wreck of equipments +lay scattered all around—broken poles, boxes, tinware, +etc. It was plain enough they had encountered +incredible hardships.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="the_english_party" id="the_english_party"></a> +<img src="images/thor106.png" width="600" height="462" +alt="Seven men, looking bedraggled and downcast" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">THE ENGLISH PARTY.</p> + +<p>The usual greetings over, I inquired how they had enjoyed +the trip from Reykjavik. In reply they gave me +a detailed and melancholy history of their experiences. +Riley’s Narrative of Shipwreck, and subsequent hardships +on the coast of Africa, was nothing to it. Of the +twenty-five horses with which they left Reykjavik only +thirteen were sound of wind, and of these more than half +were afflicted with raw backs. The pack-animals, eighteen +in number, were every one lame. Then the packs +were badly done up, and broke to pieces on the way. +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_533" id="Page_533"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_534" id="Page_534">[534]</a></span> +Sometimes the ropes cut the horses’ backs, and sometimes +the horses lay down on the road, and tried to travel +with their feet in the air. Incredible difficulty was +experienced in making twelve miles the first day. It +rained all the time. The bread was soaked; the tea destroyed; +the sugar melted; and the Champagne baskets +smashed. When the packs were taken off it was discovered +that some of them wore quite empty, and the contents, +consisting originally of hair-brushes, flea-powder, +lip-salve, and cold-cream, were strewn along the road +probably all the way from Reykjavik. The cot-fixtures +were swelled and wouldn’t fit; the tea-kettle was jammed +into a cocked-hat; the tent-pins were lost, and the hatchet +nowhere to be found. It was a perfect series of jams, +smashes, and scatterings. Even the sheets were filled +with mud, and wholly unfit for use until they could be +washed and done up. One horse lay down on the portable +kitchen, and flattened it into a general pancake; +another attempted to take an impression of his own body +on the photographic apparatus, and reduced it (the apparatus) +to fragments; another, wishing perhaps to see +his face as others saw him, raked off the looking-glasses +against a point of lava, and walked on them; and, lastly, +one stupid beast contrived in some way to get his nose +into a mustard-case which had fallen from a pack in front, +and, snuffing up the mustard, got his nostrils burnt and +went perfectly crazy, kicking, plunging, and charging at +all the other horses till he drove them all as crazy as himself, +whereby a prodigious amount of damage was done. +In short, it was a series of disasters from beginning to +end; and here they were now but two days’ journey +from Reykjavik (I had made the whole distance easily +in seven hours), and, by Jove, there was no telling how +much longer it would be possible to keep the guide. +They had already quarreled with him several times, and +threatened to discharge him. He was a stupid dunce, +and a rascal and a cheat into the bargain. On the whole, +it was a “rum” sort of a country to travel in. No game, +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_535" id="Page_535">[535]</a></span> +no roads, no shops, no accommodations for man or beast! +And who ever saw such houses for people to live in? +Mere sheep-pens! Disgustingly filthy! A beastly set +of ragamuffins! By Jove, sir, if it wasn’t for the name +of the thing, a fellow might as well be in the infernal +regions at once! In truth, I must acknowledge that the +interior of an Icelandic hut does not present a very attractive +spectacle to a stranger.</p> + +<p>I deeply sympathized with my friends, and urged them +to leave the remainder of their baggage. If there was +any medicine left, a dose of quinine all around might do +them good and prevent any ill effects from the rain; but, +on the whole, I thought they would get along better with +less baggage.</p> + +<p>“Less baggage!” cried all together. “Why, hang it, +our baggage is scattered along the trail clear back to +Reykjavik! It has been growing less ever since we +started. By the time we reach the Geysers it is questionable +if we’ll have as much as a fine-tooth comb left!”</p> + +<p>“Then,” said I, “you can travel. Sell a dozen of your +horses on the way, and you’ll be rid of another trouble!”</p> + +<p>“Sell them; they wouldn’t bring a farthing. They’re +not worth a groat.”</p> + +<p>“Then turn them loose.”</p> + +<p>“That’s a jolly idea,” said the lively sportsman; “how +the deuce are we to travel without pack-horses?”</p> + +<p>“Oh, nothing easier. You don’t need pack-horses +when you have no packs.”</p> + +<p>“By Jove, there’s something in that!” said the jolly +gentleman. “Our American friend ought to know. He’s +seen the elephant before.”</p> + +<p>This proposition gave rise to an animated discussion, +during which I wished them a prosperous tour, and took +my leave. Of their subsequent career I have heard nothing, +save that they arrived safely in England, and published +various letters in the newspapers giving glowing +accounts of their Icelandic experience.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="interior_of_icelandic_hut" id="interior_of_icelandic_hut"></a> +<img src="images/thor107.png" width="600" height="460" +alt="Three adults, nine children, a cat and two dogs crammed into a small room" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">INTERIOR OF ICELANDIC HUT.</p> + +<p>Nothing of importance occurred on the way back to +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_536" id="Page_536"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_537" id="Page_537">[537]</a></span> +Reykjavik. I arrived there early in the afternoon safe +and sound, and greatly benefited by the trip. Like the +beatings received by Brusa, the experience was delightful +when it was over. I paid off my excellent guide +Geir Zöega, and made him a present of the few articles +that remained from the expedition. It is a great pleasure +to be able to recommend a guide heartily and conscientiously. +A worthier man than Geir Zöega does +not exist, and I hereby certify that he afforded me entire +satisfaction. No traveler who desires an honest, intelligent, +and conscientious guide can do better than secure +his services. Long life and happiness to you, Geir +Zöega! May your shadow never be less; and may your +invaluable little dog Brusa live to profit by your wise +counsel and judicious administration of the rod.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_LII" id="CHAPTER_LII"></a>CHAPTER LII.</h2> + +<h3>A FRIGHTFUL ADVENTURE.</h3> + + +<p>The <i>Arcturus</i> had been delayed in discharging freight +by a series of storms which prevailed at the bay, and was +now down at Haparanda Fjord taking in ballast. The +probability was that she would not leave for several days. +Meantime I was extremely anxious to see a little more +of domestic life in Iceland, and made several foot-expeditions +to the farm-houses in the neighborhood of Reykjavik.</p> + +<p>At one of these I passed a night. In giving the details +of an awkward adventure that befell me on that occasion, +it is only necessary for me to say of the house +that it was built in the usual primitive style, already described +at some length. The people were farmers, and +the family consisted of an old man and his wife, three or +four stout sons, and a buxom daughter some twenty +years of age. A few words of Danish enabled me to +make them understand that I wished for a cup of coffee, +some bread, and lodgings for the night. They were +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_538" id="Page_538">[538]</a></span> +exceeding kind, and seemed greatly interested in the fact +that I was an American—probably the first they had +ever seen. The coffee was soon ready; a cloth was +spread upon the table, and a very good supper of bread, +cheese, and curds placed before me. I passed some hours +very sociably, giving them, as well as I could by means +of signs and diagrams, aided by a few words of Danish, +a general idea of California, its position on the globe, and +the enormous amount of gold which it yielded. Evidently +they had heard some exaggerated rumors of the +country. The name was familiar to them, but they had +no idea where this El Dorado was, or whether there was +any truth in the statement that the mountains were made +of gold, and all the rocks in the valleys of pure silver. +My efforts to enlighten them on these points were rather +ludicrous. It was miraculous how far I made a few +words go, and how quick they were to guess at my meaning.</p> + +<p>About eleven o’clock the old people began to manifest +symptoms of drowsiness, and gave me to understand +that whenever I felt disposed to go to bed the girl would +show me my room. A walk of ten or twelve miles over +the lava-bergs rendered this suggestion quite acceptable, +so I bade the family a friendly good-night, and followed +the girl to another part of the house. She took me into +a small room with a bed in one corner. By a motion of +her hand she intimated that I could rest there for the +night. I sat down on the edge of the bed and said it +was very good—that I was much obliged to her. She +still lingered in the room, however, as if waiting to see +if she could be of any farther assistance. I could not be +insensible to the fact that she was a very florid and good-natured +looking young woman; but, of course, that was +none of my business. All I could do with propriety was +to thank her again, and signify by taking off my overcoat +that I was about to go to bed. Still she lingered, +apparently disposed to be as friendly as circumstances +would permit. It was somewhat awkward being alone +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_539" id="Page_539">[539]</a></span> +in a strange room with a person of the opposite sex, +young and rather pretty, without saying any thing particular. +Her silence, as well as my own, was getting embarrassing. +I attempted to carry on a conversation in +Danish, of which I soon discovered she knew even less +than I did myself. She answered my remarks, however, +in her native tongue, with a very sweet voice, and in +such a sociable way that I felt sure she meant to be kind +and hospitable. In vain I waited for her to leave. It +was getting late, and her parents might feel anxious about +her. Still she manifested no disposition to go away. +What could the girl mean? was a question that now +began to enter my head. Probably I had taken possession +of her room, and she had no other place to sleep. +If so, it was not my fault. Nobody could hold me responsible +for such a peculiar family arrangement. Seeing +no alternative but to test the point, I gradually began +to take off my coat. So far from being abashed at the +movement, she seized hold of the sleeves and helped me +off with it. I did the same with my vest, and still with +the same result. Then I pulled off my boots, but with +no better prospect of relief from my embarrassing dilemma. +Finally I came to my pantaloons, at which I naturally +hesitated. It was about time for the young woman +to leave, if she had any regard for my feelings. I +thanked her very cordially; but she showed no symptoms +of leaving. It was plain that she meant to help me +through with the business. I sat for some time longer +before I could bring myself to this last trying ordeal. +There was something so pure and innocent in the expression +of the young woman’s face—such an utter unconsciousness +of any impropriety in our relative positions, +that I scarcely knew what to do or think. “She +wants to help me off with my pantaloons—that’s plain!” +said I to myself. “Perhaps it is the custom in Iceland; +but it is very awkward, nevertheless.” The fact is, you +see, I was not quite old enough to be the girl’s father, +nor yet quite young enough to be put to bed like her +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_540" id="Page_540"><!-- Illustration page --></a></span> +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_541" id="Page_541">[541]</a></span> +youngest brother. Between the two extremes of the +case I was considerably troubled. To reject her kind +offers of service might be deemed rude, and nothing was +farther from my intention than to offend this amiable +young person. Allowing a reasonable time to elapse, I +saw there was no getting over the difficulty, and began +to remove the last article of my daily apparel. Doubtless +she had long foreseen that it would eventually come +to that. In a very accommodating manner, she took a +position directly in front, and beckoned to me to elevate +one of my legs, an order which I naturally obeyed. Then +she seized hold of the pendent casimere and dragged +away with a hearty good-will. I was quickly reduced +to my natural state with the exception of a pair of drawers, +which, to my horror, I discovered were in a very +ragged condition, owing to the roughness of my travels +in this wild region. However, by an adroit movement +I whirled into bed, and the young woman covered me +up and wished me a good night’s sleep. I thanked her +very cordially, and so ended this strange and rather awkward +adventure.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 600px;"> +<a name="an_awkward_predicament" id="an_awkward_predicament"></a> +<img src="images/thor108.png" width="600" height="463" +alt="A young woman helps a man to get undressed" /> +</div> + +<p class="caption">AN AWKWARD PREDICAMENT.</p> + +<p>Such primitive scenes are to be found only in the interior. +In the towns the women are in dress and manners +very like their sisters elsewhere. Hoops and crinoline +are frequently to be seen not only among the Danes, +who, as a matter of course, import them from Copenhagen, +but among the native women, who can see no good +reason why they should not be as much like pyramids +or Jokuls as others of their sex. Bonnets and inverted +pudding-bowls are common on the heads of the Reykjavik +ladies, though as yet they have not found their way +into the interior. All who can afford it indulge in a profusion +of jewelry—silver clasps, breast-pins, tassel-bands, +etc., and various articles of filigree made by native artists. +These feminine traits I had not expected to find so +fully developed in so out-of-the-way a country. But +where is it that lovely woman will not make herself still +more captivating? I once saw in Madagascar a belle +<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_542" id="Page_542">[542]</a></span> +of the first rank, as black as the ace of spades, and greased +all over cocoa-nut oil, commit great havoc among +her admirers by a necklace of shark’s teeth and a pair +of brass anklets, and nothing else. The rest of her costume, +with a trifling exception, was purely imaginary; +yet she was as vain of her superior style, and put on as +many fine airs, as the most fashionable lady in any civilized +country. After all, what is the difference between +a finely-dressed savage and a finely-dressed Parisian? +None at all that I can see, save in the color of the skin +and the amount of labor performed by the manufacturer, +the milliner, the tailor, or the schoolmaster. Intrinsically +the constitution of the mind is identically the same. +I speak now of men as well as women, for the most affected +creatures I have seen in Europe are of the male +sex. So pardon me, fair ladies, for any reflection upon +your crinoline, and accept as my apology this candid +avowal—that while you are naturally angelic, and always +beautiful beyond comparison, in spite of what you do to +disfigure your lovely persons, we men are naturally savages, +and are driven to the barbarous expedient of adorning +and beautifying our ugly bodies with gewgaws, tinsel, +and jimcrackery, in order that they may be acceptable +in your eyes.</p> + +<p>On my return to Reykjavik I found that the steamer +was to sail next day. I was very anxious to visit Mount +Hecla, but my time and means were limited, and would +not permit of a farther sojourn in this interesting land. +It was a great satisfaction to have seen any thing of it at +all; and if I have given the reader even a slight glimpse +of its wonders, my trip has not been entirely unsuccessful.</p> + + +<p class="center padtop padbase">THE END.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="backads"> +<p class="center xlfont">THE NEW BOOKS</p> + +<p class="center lrgfont">OF THE SEASON</p> + +<p class="center smlfont">PUBLISHED BY</p> + +<p class="center">HARPER & BROTHERS, <span class="smcap">New York</span>.</p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span> will send the following works by mail, postage prepaid, to any +part of the United States, on receipt of the price.</i></p> + +<p class="center"><i><span class="smcap">Harper’s Catalogue</span> and <span class="smcap">Trade-List</span> may be obtained gratuitously on application +to the Publishers personally, or will be sent by mail on receipt of Five Cents.</i></p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="lrgfont smlpadt"><i>McClintock and Strong’s Cyclopædia.</i></p> + +<p class="indent">A Cyclopædia of Biblical, Theological, and Ecclesiastical +Literature. 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Edgar</span>. +With Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1 20.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Edgar’s History for Boys; or, Annals of the Nations +of Modern Europe. By <span class="smcap">John G. Edgar</span>. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1 20.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Edgar’s Sea-Kings and Naval Heroes. A Book for +Boys. By <span class="smcap">John G. Edgar</span>. Illustrated by C. Keene and E. K. Johnson. 16mo, +Cloth, $1 20.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Edgar’s Wars of the Roses. By <span class="smcap">John G. Edgar</span>. Illustrations. +16mo, Cloth, $1 20.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Nineteen Beautiful Years; or, Sketches of a Girl’s +Life. Written by her Sister. With an Introduction by Rev. <span class="smcap">R. S. Foster</span>, D.D. +16mo, Cloth, $1 00.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Harper’s Boys’ and Girls’ Library. 32 Volumes. Numerous +Engravings. 18mo, Cloth. Sold separately at 75 cents a Volume:</p> + +<p class="indent">Lives of the Apostles and Early Martyrs.<br /> +The Swiss Family Robinson. 2 vols.<br /> +Sunday Evenings. Comprising Scripture Stories. 3 vols.<br /> +Mrs. Hofland’s Son of a Genius.<br /> +Thatcher’s Indian Traits. 2 vols.<br /> +Thatcher’s Tales of the American Revolution.<br /> +Miss Eliza Robins’s Tales from American History. 3 vols.<br /> +Mrs. Hofland’s Young Crusoe; or, The Shipwrecked Boy.<br /> +Perils of the Sea.<br /> +Lives of Distinguished Females.<br /> +Mrs. Phelps’s Caroline Westerley.<br /> +Mrs. Hughs’s Ornaments Discovered.<br /> +The Clergyman’s Orphan; the Infidel Reclaimed.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s Natural History.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s Evidences of Christianity.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s History of Virginia.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s American Forest.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s History of New York. 2 vols.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s Whale Fishery and the Polar Seas. 2 vols.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s History of the Lost Colonies of Greenland.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s History of Massachusetts. 2 vols.<br /> +Uncle Philip’s History of New Hampshire 2 vols.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Harper’s Fireside Library; expressly adapted to the +Domestic Circle, Sunday-Schools, &c. Cloth, Seventy-five cents each:</p> + +<p class="indent">Alden’s Alice Gordon.<br /> +Alden’s Lawyer’s Daughter.<br /> +Alden’s Young Schoolmistress.<br /> +Burdett’s Arthur Martin.<br /> +The Dying Robin.<br /> +Ellen Herbert; or, Family Changes.<br /> +Mayhew’s Good Genius that turned every thing into Gold.<br /> +William the Cottager.<br /> +Mayhew’s Magic of Kindness.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Harper’s Story Books. Narratives, Biographies, and +Tales for the Young. By <span class="smcap">Jacob Abbott</span>. With more than 1000 beautiful Engravings.</p> + +<p class="indent">“<span class="smcap">Harper’s Story Books</span>” can be obtained complete in Twelve Volumes, +each one containing Three Stories, at the price of $21 00; or in Thirty-six Thin +Volumes, each containing One Story, at the price of $32 40. The volumes sold separately.</p> + +<p class="indent">Vol. I. Bruno; Willie and the Mortgage; The Strait Gate. Vol II. The +Little Louvre; Prank; Emma. Vol. III. Virginia; Timboo and Joliba; Timboo +and Fanny. Vol. IV. The Harper Establishment; Franklin; The Studio. +Vol. V. The Story of Ancient History; The Story of English History; The Story +of American History. Vol. VI. John True; Elfred; The Museum. Vol. +VII. The Engineer; Rambles among the Alps; The Three Gold Dollars. Vol. +VIII. The Gibraltar Gallery; The Alcove; Dialogues. Vol. IX. The Great +Elm; Aunt Margaret; Vernon. Vol. X. Carl and Jocko; Lapstone; Orkney +the Peacemaker. Vol. XI. Judge Justin; Minigo; Jasper. Vol. XII. Congo; +Viola; Little Paul.</p> + +<p class="indent">Some of the Story Books are written particularly for Girls, some for Boys; +and the different volumes are adapted to various ages, so that the Series forms +a complete Library of Story Books for Children of the Family and the Sunday-School.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Miss Mulock’s Our Year. A Child’s Book in Prose +and Verse. Illustrated by Clarence Dobell. 16mo, Cloth, gilt edges, $1 00.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Children’s Picture-Books. Square 4to, about 300 +pages each, beautifully printed on Tinted Paper, with many Illustrations by Weir, +Steinle, Overbeck, Veit, Schnorr, Harvey, &c., bound in Cloth, gilt, $1 50 a volume; +or the Series complete in neat case, $7 50:</p> + +<p class="indent">The Children’s Bible Picture-Book; The Children’s Picture Fable-Book; +The Children’s Picture-Book of Quadrupeds, and other Mammalia; The Children’s +Picture-Book of the Sagacity of Animals; The Children’s Picture-Book +of Birds.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mayhew’s Boyhood of Martin Luther; or, The Sufferings +of the Little Beggar-boy who afterward became the Great German Reformer. +By <span class="smcap">Henry Mayhew</span>. Beautifully Illustrated. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mayhew’s Peasant-Boy Philosopher. The Story of the +Peasant-Boy Philosopher; or, “A Child gathering Pebbles on the Sea-Shore.” +(Founded on the Early Life of Ferguson, The Shepherd-Boy Astronomer, and intended +to show how a Poor Lad became acquainted with the Principles of Natural +Science.) By <span class="smcap">Henry Mayhew</span>. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mayhew’s Wonders of Science; or, Young Humphrey +Davy (The Cornish Apothecary’s Boy, who taught himself Natural Philosophy +and eventually became President of the Royal Society). The Life of a Wonderful +Boy written for Boys. By <span class="smcap">Henry Mayhew</span>. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mayhew’s Young Benjamin Franklin; or, the Right +Road through Life. A Story to show how Young Benjamin Learned the Principles +which Raised him from a Printer’s Boy to the First Embassador of the American +Republic. A Boy’s Book on a Boy’s Own Subject. By <span class="smcap">Henry Mayhew</span>. +With Illustrations by John Gilbert. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mr. Wind and Madam Rain. By <span class="smcap">Paul De Musset</span>. +Translated by <span class="smcap">Emily Makepeace</span>. Illustrated by Charles Bennett. Square +4to, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mrs. Mortimer’s Reading without Tears; or, A Pleasant +Mode of Learning to Read. Beautifully Illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, 75 +cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mrs. Mortimer’s Reading without Tears, Part II. +Beautifully Illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mrs. Mortimer’s Lines Left Out; or, Some of the Histories +left out in “Line upon Line.” The First Part relates Events in the Times +of the Patriarchs and the Judges. By the Author of “Line upon Line,” “Reading +without Tears,” “More about Jesus,” “Streaks of Light,” &c. With Illustrations. +16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mrs. Mortimer’s More about Jesus. With Illustrations +and a Map. By the author of “Peep of Day,” “Reading without Tears,” &c. +16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Mrs. Mortimer’s Streaks of Light; or Fifty-two Facts +from the Bible for Fifty-two Sundays of the Year. By the Author of “Reading +without Tears,” &c. Illustrations. 16mo, Cloth, gilt, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Harry’s Ladder to Learning. With 250 Illustrations. +Square 4to, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Harry’s Summer in Ashcroft. Illustrations. Square +4to, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Kingston’s Fred Markham in Russia; or, The Boy +Travellers in the Land of the Czar. By <span class="smcap">W. H. G. Kingston</span>. Profusely and elegantly +illustrated. Small 4to, Cloth, gilt, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Reid’s Odd People. Being a Popular Description of +Singular Races of Men. By Captain <span class="smcap">Mayne Reid</span>. With Illustrations. 16mo, +Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Reuben Davidger. The Adventures of Reuben Davidger, +Seventeen Years and Four Months Captive among the Dyaks of Borneo. +By <span class="smcap">James Greenwood</span>. With Engravings. 8vo, Cloth, $1 75.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Seymour’s Self-Made Men. By <span class="smcap">Charles C. B. Seymour</span>. +Many Portraits. 12mo, 588 pages, Cloth, $1 75.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Smiles’s Self-Help: with Illustrations of Character and +Conduct. By Samuel Smiles. 12mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Thackeray’s Rose and the Ring; or, The History of +Prince Giglio and Prince Bulbo. A Fireside Pantomime for Great and Small +Children. By Mr. <span class="smcap">M. A. Titmarsh</span>. Numerous Illustrations. Small 4to, Cloth, +$1 00.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">Wood’s Homes without Hands: Being a Description +of the Habitations of Animals, classed according to their Principle of Construction. +By <span class="smcap">J. G. Wood</span>, M.A., F.L.S., Author of “Illustrated Natural History.” +With about 140 Illustrations, engraved on Wood by G. Pearson, from Original Designs +made by F. W. Keyl and E. A. Smith, under the Author’s Superintendence. +8vo, Cloth, Beveled, $4 50.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><b>“They do honor to American Literature, and would do +honor to the Literature of any Country in the World.”</b></p> + + +<p class="center xlfont smlpadt">THE RISE OF<br /> +THE DUTCH REPUBLIC.</p> + +<p class="center">A History</p> + +<p class="center lrgfont"><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY.</p> + + +<p class="center">New Edition. With a Portrait of <span class="smcap">William of Orange</span>. 3 vols. +8vo, Muslin, $9 00.</p> + + +<p class="smlpadt">We regard this work as the best contribution to modern history that has yet +been made by an American.—<i>Methodist Quarterly Review.</i></p> + +<p>The “History of the Dutch Republic” is a great gift to us; but the heart and +earnestness that beat through all its pages are greater, for they give us most +timely inspiration to vindicate the true ideas of our country, and to compose an +able history of our own.—<i>Christian Examiner</i> (Boston).</p> + +<p>This work bears on its face the evidences of scholarship and research. The +arrangement is clear and effective; the style energetic, lively, and often brilliant. +* * * Mr. Motley’s instructive volumes will, we trust, have a circulation commensurate +with their interest and value.—<i>Protestant Episcopal Quarterly Review.</i></p> + +<p>To the illustration of this most interesting period Mr. Motley has brought the +matured powers of a vigorous and brilliant mind, and the abundant fruits of patient +and judicious study and deep reflection. The result is, one of the most +important contributions to historical literature that have been made in this country.—<i>North +American Review.</i></p> + +<p>We would conclude this notice by earnestly recommending our readers to procure +for themselves this truly great and admirable work, by the production of +which the author has conferred no less honor upon his country than he has won +praise and fame for himself, and than which, we can assure them, they can find +nothing more attractive or interesting within the compass of modern literature.—<i>Evangelical +Review.</i></p> + +<p>It is not often that we have the pleasure of commending to the attention of the +lover of books a work of such extraordinary and unexceptionable excellence as +this one.—<i>Universalist Quarterly Review.</i></p> + +<p>There are an elevation and a classic polish in these volumes, and a felicity of +grouping and of portraiture, which invest the subject with the attractions of a +living and stirring episode in the grand historic drama.—<i>Southern Methodist +Quarterly Review.</i></p> + +<p>The author writes with a genial glow and love of his subject.—<i>Presbyterian +Quarterly Review.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley is a sturdy Republican and a hearty Protestant. His style is lively +and picturesque, and his work is an honor and an important accession to our +national literature.—<i>Church Review.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s work is an important one, the result of profound research, sincere +convictions, sound principles, and manly sentiments; and even those who are +most familiar with the history of the period will find it a fresh and vivid addition +to their previous knowledge. It does honor to American Literature, and +would do honor to the literature of any country in the world.—<i>Edinburgh Review.</i></p> + +<p>A serious chasm in English historical literature has been (by this book) very +remarkably filled. * * * A history as complete as industry and genius can make +it now lies before us, of the first twenty years of the revolt of the United Provinces. +* * * All the essentials of a great writer Mr. Motley eminently possesses. +His mind is broad, his industry unwearied. In power of dramatic description +no modern historian, except, perhaps, Mr. Carlyle, surpasses him, and in analysis +of character he is elaborate and distinct.—<i>Westminster Review.</i></p> + +<p>It is a work of real historical value, the result of accurate criticism, written +in a liberal spirit, and from first to last deeply interesting.—<i>Athenæum.</i></p> + +<p>The style is excellent, clear, vivid, eloquent; and the industry with which +original sources have been investigated, and through which new light has been +shed over perplexed incidents and characters, entitles Mr. Motley to a high rank +in the literature of an age peculiarly rich in history.—<i>North British Review.</i></p> + +<p>It abounds in new information, and, as a first work, commands a very cordial +recognition, not merely of the promise it gives, but of the extent and importance +of the labor actually performed on it.—<i>London Examiner.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s “History” is a work of which any country might be proud.—<i>Press</i> +(London).</p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s History will be a standard book of reference in historical literature.—<i>London +Literary Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley has searched the whole range of historical documents necessary to +the composition of his work.—<i>London Leader.</i></p> + +<p>This is a really great work. It belongs to the class of books in which we +range our Grotes, Milmans, Merivales, and Macaulays, as the glories of English +literature in the department of history. * * * Mr. Motley’s gifts as a historical +writer are among the highest and rarest.—<i>Nonconformist</i> (London).</p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s volumes will well repay perusal. * * * For his learning, his liberal +tone, and his generous enthusiasm, we heartily commend him, and bid him good +speed for the remainder of his interesting and heroic narrative.—<i>Saturday Review.</i></p> + +<p>The story is a noble one, and is worthily treated. * * * Mr. Motley has had the +patience to unravel, with unfailing perseverance, the thousand intricate plots of +the adversaries of the Prince of Orange; but the details and the literal extracts +which he has derived from original documents, and transferred to his pages, +give a truthful color and a picturesque effect, which are especially charming.—<i>London +Daily News.</i></p> + +<p>M. Lothrop Motley dans son magnifique tableau de la formation de notre République.—<span class="smcap">G. +Groen Van Prinsterer.</span></p> + +<p>Our accomplished countryman, Mr. J. Lothrop Motley, who, during the last +five years, for the better prosecution of his labors, has established his residence +in the neighborhood of the scenes of his narrative. No one acquainted with the +fine powers of mind possessed by this scholar, and the earnestness with which he +has devoted himself to the task, can doubt that he will do full justice to his important +but difficult subject.—<span class="smcap">W. H. Prescott.</span></p> + +<p>The production of such a work as this astonishes, while it gratifies the pride +of the American reader.—<i>N. Y. Observer.</i></p> + +<p>The “Rise of the Dutch Republic” at once, and by acclimation, takes its +place by the “Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire,” as a work which, whether +for research, substance, or style, will never be superseded.—<i>N. Y. Albion.</i></p> + +<p>A work upon which all who read the English language may congratulate +themselves.—<i>New Yorker Handels Zeitung.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s place is now (alluding to this book) with Hallam and Lord Mahon, +Alison and Macaulay in the Old Country, and with Washington Irving, +Prescott, and Bancroft in this.—<i>N. Y. Times.</i></p> + +<p>The authority, in the English tongue, for the history of the period and people +to which it refers.—<i>N. Y. Courier and Enquirer.</i></p> + +<p>This work at once places the author on the list of American historians which +has been so signally illustrated by the names of Irving, Prescott, Bancroft, and +Hildreth.—<i>Boston Times.</i></p> + +<p>The work is a noble one, and a most desirable acquisition to our historical literature.—<i>Mobile +Advertiser.</i></p> + +<p>Such a work is an honor to its author, to his country, and to the age in which +it was written.—<i>Ohio Farmer.</i></p> + + +<p class="center xlfont smlpadt"><i>Published by HARPER & BROTHERS,<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 12em;">Franklin Square, New York.</span></i></p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span> will send the above Work by Mail postage paid (for any +distance in the United States under 3000 miles), on receipt of the Money.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"><i>Mr. Motley, the American historian of the United Netherlands—we owe him +English homage.</i>—<span class="smcap">London Times.</span></p> + +<p class="center">“<i>As interesting as a romance, and as reliable as a proposition of Euclid.</i>”</p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center xlfont">History of<br /> +The United Netherlands.</p> + +<p class="center smlfont">FROM THE DEATH OF WILLIAM THE SILENT TO THE SYNOD OF DORT. WITH A<br /> +FULL VIEW OF THE ENGLISH-DUTCH STRUGGLE AGAINST SPAIN, AND<br /> +OF THE ORIGIN AND DESTRUCTION OF THE SPANISH<br /> +ARMADA.</p> + +<p class="center lrgfont"><span class="smcap">By</span> JOHN LOTHROP MOTLEY, LL.D., D.C.L.,</p> + +<p class="center">Corresponding Member of the Institute of France, Author of “The Rise of the +Dutch Republic.”</p> + +<p class="center"><b>With Portraits and Map.</b></p> + +<p class="center">2 vols. 8vo, Muslin, $6 00.</p> + + +<p class="center smlpadt"><i>Critical Notices.</i></p> + +<p>His living and truthful picture of events.—<i>Quarterly Review</i> (London), Jan., +1861.</p> + +<p>Fertile as the present age has been in historical works of the highest merit, +none of them can be ranked above these volumes in the grand qualities of interest, +accuracy, and truth.—<i>Edinburgh Quarterly Review</i>, Jan., 1861.</p> + +<p>This noble work.—<i>Westminster Review</i> (London).</p> + +<p>One of the most fascinating as well as important histories of the century.—<i>Cor. +N. Y. Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>The careful study of these volumes will infallibly afford a feast both rich and +rare.—<i>Baltimore Republican.</i></p> + +<p>Already takes a rank among standard works of history.—<i>London Critic.</i></p> + +<p>Mr. Motley’s prose epic.—<i>London Spectator.</i></p> + +<p>Its pages are pregnant with instruction.—<i>London Literary Gazette.</i></p> + +<p>We may profit by almost every page of his narrative. All the topics which agitate +us now are more or less vividly presented in the History of the United Netherlands.—<i>New +York Times.</i></p> + +<p>Bears on every page marks of the same vigorous mind that produced “The Rise +of the Dutch Republic;” but the new work is riper, mellower, and though equally +racy of the soil, softer flavored. The inspiring idea which breathes through Mr. +Motley’s histories and colors the whole texture of his narrative, is the grandeur of +that memorable struggle in the 16th century by which the human mind broke the +thraldom of religious intolerance and achieved its independence.—<i>The World, N. Y.</i></p> + +<p>The name of Motley now stands in the very front rank of living historians. His +<i>Dutch Republic</i> took the world by surprise; but the favorable verdict then given +is now only the more deliberately confirmed on the publication of the continued +story under the title of the <i>History of the United Netherlands</i>. All the nerve, +and power, and substance of juicy life are there, lending a charm to every page.—<i>Church +Journal, N. Y.</i></p> + +<p>Motley indeed, has produced a prose epic, and his fighting scenes are as real, +spirited, and life-like as the combats in the Iliad.—<i>The Press</i> (Phila.).</p> + +<p>His history is as interesting as a romance, and as reliable as a proposition of Euclid. +Clio never had a more faithful disciple. We advise every reader whose +means will permit to become the owner of these fascinating volumes, assuring him +that he will never regret the investment.—<i>Christian Intelligencer, N. Y.</i></p> + + +<p class="center lrgfont smlpadt">Published by HARPER & BROTHERS,<br /> +<span style="padding-left: 8em;">Franklin Square, New York.</span></p> + + + +<p><img src="images/finger.gif" width="30" height="13" alt="Hand, finger pointing right" /> +<span class="smcap">Harper & Brothers</span> will send the above Work by Mail, postage prepaid +(for any distance in the United States under 3000 miles), on receipt of the Money.</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center xlfont smcap">By Mrs. Gaskell.</p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p>CRANFORD. 16mo, Cloth, $1 25.</p> + +<p>COUSIN PHILLIS. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.</p> + +<p>A DARK NIGHT’S WORK. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents.</p> + +<p>MARY BARTON. A Tale of Manchester Life. 8vo, +Paper, 50 cents.</p> + +<p>THE MOORLAND COTTAGE. 16mo, Cloth, 75 cents.</p> + +<p>MY LADY LUDLOW. 8vo, Paper, 25 cents.</p> + +<p>NORTH AND SOUTH. 8vo, Paper, 50 cents.</p> + +<p>RIGHT AT LAST, and Other Tales. 12mo. Cloth, $1 50.</p> + +<p>SYLVIA’S LOVERS. 8vo, Paper, 75 cents.</p> + +<p>WIVES AND DAUGHTERS. With Illustrations. 8vo, +Cloth, $2 00; Paper, $1 50.</p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center"><i>From the London Examiner.</i></p> + +<p>That tender pathos, which could sink so deep—that gentle humor, which could +soar so lightly—that delicate perception, which nothing could escape—that wide +sympathy, which ranged so far—those sweet moralities, which rang so true; it +is indeed hard and sad to feel that these must be silent for us henceforth forever.</p> + +<p>Let us be grateful, however, that we have still those writings of hers which +England will not willingly let die, and that she has given us no less an example +of conscientious work and careful pains, by which we all alike may profit. For +Mrs. Gaskell had not only genius of a high order, but she had also the true feeling +of the artist, that grows impatient at whatever is unfinished or imperfect. +Whether describing with touching skill the charities of poor to poor, or painting, +with an art which Miss Austin might have envied, the daily round of common +life, or merely telling, in her graphic way, some wild or simple tale: whatever +the work, she did it with all her power, sparing nothing, scarcely sparing herself +enough, if only the work were well and completely done.</p> + + +<p class="center"><i>From the New York Evening Post.</i></p> + +<p>It is said that George Sand remarked to an English friend: “Mrs. Gaskell +has done what neither I nor other female writers in France can accomplish—she +has written novels which excite the deepest interest in men of the world, and +which every girl will be the better for reading.”</p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center lrgfont"><span class="smcap">Published by HARPER & BROTHERS, New York.</span></p> + +<p class="center">——</p> + +<p class="center padbase"><img src="images/finger.gif" width="30" height="13" alt="Hand, finger pointing right" /> +<i>Sent by Mail to any part of the United States, postage free, on receipt of the +Price.</i></p> +</div> + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<p><b>Transcriber's Note</b></p> + +<p>Minor typographic errors in punctuation and spelling (omitted or transposed +letters, etc.) have been repaired. Hyphenation has been made consistent +where there was a prevalence of one form over another.</p> + +<p>Archaic and variant spelling has been preserved as printed, where reference +to the alternate spelling could be established from other sources, e.g. +the Frith of Forth, gambling-hells, feed referring to the paying of a fee. +If alternate spelling of proper nouns could not be established, it has +been made consistent within the text. The spelling of other words and +phrases in languages other than English has been preserved as printed.</p> + +<p>Omitted page numbers were the location of illustrations in the original +book; these were moved so that they were not in the middle of a paragraph.</p> +</div> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Land of Thor, by J. Ross Browne + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE LAND OF THOR *** + +***** This file should be named 28329-h.htm or 28329-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/3/2/28329/ + +Produced by David Edwards, Sam W. and the Online Distributed +Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This book was +produced from scanned images of public domain material +from the Google Print project.) + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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