Book: A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North

M >> Madame Ida Pfeiffer >> A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North




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

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

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

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

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

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


Before I land in Iceland, I must trouble the reader with a few
preliminary observations regarding this island. They are drawn from
Mackenzie's Description of Iceland, a book the sterling value of
which is appreciated every where. {24}

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

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

The General Assembly of Iceland (called Allthing) was held annually
on the shores of the Lake Thingvalla. The people possessed an
excellent code of laws, in which provision had been made for every
case which could occur.

This state of things lasted for more than 300 years, a period which
may be called the golden age of Iceland. Education, literature, and
even refined poetry flourished among the inhabitants, who took part
in commerce and in the sea-voyages which the Norwegians undertook
for purposes of discovery.

The "Sagas," or histories of this country, contain many tales of
personal bravery. Its bards and historians visited other climes,
became the favourites of monarchs, and returned to their island
covered with honour and loaded with presents. The Edda, by Samund,
is one of the most valued poems of the ancient days of Iceland. The
second portion of the Edda, called Skalda, dates from a later
period, and is ascribed by many to the celebrated Snorri Sturluson.
Isleif, first Bishop of Skalholt, was the earliest Icelandic
historian; after him came the noted Snorri Sturluson, born in 1178,
who became the richest and mightiest man in Iceland.

Snorri Sturluson was frequently followed to the General Assembly of
Iceland by a splendid retinue of 800 armed men. He was a great
historian and poet, and possessed an accurate knowledge of the Greek
and Latin tongues, besides being a powerful orator. He was also the
author of the Heims-kringla.

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

The climate of Iceland appears to have been less inclement than is
now the case; corn is said to have grown, and trees and shrubs were
larger and thicker than we find them at present. The population of
Iceland was also much more numerous than it is now, although there
were neither towns nor villages. The people lived scattered
throughout the island; and the General Assembly was held at
Thingvalla, in the open air.

Fishing constituted the chief employment of the Icelanders. Their
clothing was woven from the wool of their sheep. Commerce with
neighbouring countries opened to them another field of occupation.

The doctrines of Christianity were first introduced into Iceland, in
the year 981, by Friederich, a Saxon bishop. Many churches were
built, and tithes established for the maintenance of the clergy.
Isleif, first Bishop of Skalholt, was ordained in the year 1057.
After the introduction of Christianity, all the Icelanders enjoyed
an unostentatious but undisturbed practice of their religion.

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

In the middle of the thirteenth century Iceland came into the power
of the Norwegian kings. In the year 1380 Norway was united to the
crown of Denmark; and Iceland incorporated, without resistance, in
the Danish monarchy. Since the cession of the island to Norway, and
then to Denmark, peace and security took the place of the internal
commotions with which, before this time, Iceland had been frequently
disturbed; but this state of quiet brought forth indolence and
apathy. The voyages of discovery were interfered with by the new
government, and the commerce gradually passed into the hands of
other nations. The climate appears also to have changed; and the
lessened industry and want of perseverance in the inhabitants have
brought agriculture completely into decline.

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

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

The reformation in the Icelandic Church was not brought about
without disturbance. It was legally established in the year 1551.

During the fifteenth century the Icelanders suffered more from the
piratical incursions of foreigners. As late as the year 1616 the
French and English nations took part in these enormities. The most
melancholy occurrence of this kind took place in 1627, in which year
a great number of Algerine pirates made a descent upon the Icelandic
coast, murdered about fifty of the inhabitants, and carried off
nearly 400 others into captivity. {26}

The eighteenth century commenced with a dreadful mortality from the
smallpox; of which disease more than 16,000 of the inhabitants died.
In 1757 a famine swept away about 10,000 souls.

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

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



CHAPTER III



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

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

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

From these handsome houses I betook myself to the cottages of the
peasants, which have a more indigenous, Icelandic appearance. Small
and low, built of lava, with the interstices filled with earth, and
the whole covered with large pieces of turf, they would present
rather the appearance of natural mounds of earth than of human
dwellings, were it not that the projecting wooden chimneys, the low-
browed entrances, and the almost imperceptible windows, cause the
spectator to conclude that they are inhabited. A dark narrow
passage, about four feet high, leads on one side into the common
room, and on the other to a few compartments, some of which are used
as storehouses for provisions, and the rest as winter stables for
the cows and sheep. At the end of this passage, which is purposely
built so low, as an additional defence against the cold, the
fireplace is generally situated. The rooms of the poorer class have
neither wooden walls nor floors, and are just large enough to admit
of the inhabitants sleeping, and perhaps turning round in them. The
whole interior accommodation is comprised in bedsteads with very
little covering, a small table, and a few drawers. Beds and chests
of drawers answer the purpose of benches and chairs. Above the beds
are fixed rods, from which depend clothes, shoes, stockings, &c. A
small board, on which are arranged a few books, is generally to be
observed. Stoves are considered unnecessary; for as the space is
very confined, and the house densely populated, the atmosphere is
naturally warm.

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

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

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

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

The neighbourhood of Havenfiord is formed by a most beautiful and
picturesque field of lava, at first rising in hills, then sinking
into hollows, and at length terminating in a great plain which
extends to the base of the neighbouring mountains. Masses of the
most varied forms, often black and naked, rise to the height of ten
or fifteen feet, forming walls, ruined pillars, small grottoes, and
hollow spaces. Over these latter large slabs often extend, and form
bridges. Every thing around consists of suddenly cooled heaped-up
masses of lava, in some instances covered to their summits with
grass and moss; this circumstance gives them, as already stated, the
appearance of groups of stunted trees. Horses, sheep, and cows were
clambering about, diligently seeking out every green place. I also
clambered about diligently; I could not tire of gazing and wondering
at this terribly beautiful picture of destruction.

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

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

At first the road lay between masses of lava, where it certainly was
not easy to ride; then over flats and small acclivities, from whence
we could descry the immense plain in which are situated Havenfiord,
Bassastadt, Reikjavik, and other places. Bassastadt, a town built
on a promontory jutting out into the sea, contains one of the
principal schools, a church built of masonry, and a few cottages.
The town of Reikjavik cannot be seen, as it is hidden behind a hill.
The other places consist chiefly of a few cottages, and only meet
the eye of the traveller when he approaches them nearly. Several
chains of mountains, towering one above the other, and sundry
"Jokuls," or glaciers, which lay still sparkling in their wintry
garb, surround this interminable plain, which is only open at one
end, towards the sea. Some of the plains and hills shone with
tender green, and I fancied I beheld beautiful meadows. On a nearer
inspection, however, they proved to be swampy places, and hundreds
upon hundreds of little acclivities, sometimes resembling mole-
hills, at others small graves, and covered with grass and moss.

I could see over an area of at least thirty or forty miles, and yet
could not descry a tree or a shrub, a bit of meadow-land or a
friendly village. Every thing seemed dead. A few cottages lay
scattered here and there; at long intervals a bird would hover in
the air, and still more seldom I heard the kindly greeting of a
passing inhabitant. Heaps of lava, swamps, and turf-bogs surrounded
me on all sides; in all the vast expanse not a spot was to be seen
through which a plough could be driven.

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

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

Shortly after eight o'clock in the evening I was fortunate enough to
reach Reikjavik safe and well. Through the kind forethought of Herr
Knudson, a neat little room had been prepared for me in one of his
houses occupied by the family of the worthy baker Bernhoft, and
truly I could not have been better received any where.

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

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

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

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

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

Among other kind letters of recommendation, I had received one
addressed to Herr von H-, the "Stiftsamtmann" of Iceland. On my
arrival at Copenhagen, I heard that Herr von H- happened to be
there. I therefore betook myself to his residence, and was shewn
into a room where I found two young ladies and three children. I
delivered my letter, and remained quietly standing for some time.
Finding at length that no one invited me to be seated, I sat down
unasked on the nearest chair, never supposing for an instant that
the lady of the house could be present, and neglect the commonest
forms of politeness which should be observed towards every stranger.
After I had waited for some time, Herr von H- graciously made his
appearance, and expressed his regret that he should have very little
time to spare for me, as he intended setting sail for Iceland with
his family in a short time, and in the interim had a number of
weighty affairs to settle at Copenhagen; in conclusion, he gave me
the friendly advice to abandon my intention of visiting Iceland, as
the fatigues of travelling in that country were very great; finding,
however, that I persevered in my intention, he promised, in case I
set sail for Reikjavik earlier than himself, to give me a letter of
recommendation. All this was concluded in great haste, and we stood
during the interview. I took my leave, and at first determined not
to call again for the letter. On reflection, however, I changed my
mind, ascribed my unfriendly reception to important and perhaps
disagreeable business, and called again two days afterwards. Then
the letter was handed to me by a servant; the high people, whom I
could hear conversing in the adjoining apartment, probably
considered it too much trouble to deliver it to me personally.

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

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

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

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