Book: A Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North

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




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

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

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

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

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

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

It was still fine clear daylight when I reached Thingvalla, and the
sky rose pure and cloudless over the far distance. It seemed
therefore the more singular to me to see a few clouds skimming over
the surface of the mountains, now shrouding a part of them in
vapour, now wreathing themselves round their summits, now vanishing
entirely, to reappear again at a different point.

This is a phenomenon frequently observed in Iceland during the
finest days, and one I had often noticed in the neighbourhood of
Reikjavik. Under a clear and cloudless sky, a light mist would
appear on the brow of a mountain,--in a moment it would increase to
a large cloud, and after remaining stationary for a time, it
frequently vanished suddenly, or soared slowly away. However often
it may be repeated, this appearance cannot fail to interest the
observer.

Herr Beck, the clergyman at Thingvalla, offered me the shelter of
his hut for the night; as the building, however, did not look much
more promising than the peasants' cottages by which it was
surrounded, I preferred quartering myself in the church, permission
to do so being but too easily obtained on all occasions. This
chapel is not much larger than that at Krisuvik, and stands at some
distance from the few surrounding cottages. This was perhaps the
reason why I was not incommoded by visitors. I had already
conquered any superstitious fears derived from the proximity of my
silent neighbours in the churchyard, and passed the night quietly on
one of the wooden chests of which I found several scattered about.
Habit is certainly every thing; after a few nights of gloomy
solitude one thinks no more about the matter.


June 17th.

Our journey of to-day was more formidable than that of yesterday. I
was assured that Reikholt (also called Reikiadal) was almost fifty
miles distant. Distances cannot always be accurately measured by
the map; impassable barriers, only to be avoided by circuitous
routes, often oppose the traveller's progress. This was the case
with us to-day. To judge from the map, the distance from Thingvalla
to Reikholt seemed less by a great deal than that from Reikjavik to
Thingvalla, and yet we were full fourteen hours accomplishing it--
two hours longer than on our yesterday's journey.

So long as our way lay through the valley of Thingvalla there was no
lack of variety. At one time there was an arm of the river Oxer to
cross, at another we traversed a cheerful meadow; sometimes we even
passed through little shrubberies,--that is to say, according to the
Icelandic acceptation of the term. In my country these lovely
shrubberies would have been cleared away as useless underwood. The
trees trail along the ground, seldom attaining a height of more than
two feet. When one of these puny stems reaches four feet in height,
it is considered a gigantic tree. The greater portion of these
miniature forests grow on the lava with which the valley is covered.

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

After the valley of Thingvalla has been passed the journey becomes
very monotonous. The district beyond is wholly uninhabited, and we
travelled many miles without seeing a single cottage. From one
desert valley we passed into another; all were alike covered with
light-grey or yellowish lava, and at intervals also with fine sand,
in which the horses sunk deeply at every step. The mountains
surrounding these valleys were none of the highest, and it was
seldom that a jokul or glacier shone forth from among them. The
mountains had a certain polished appearance, their sides being
perfectly smooth and shining. In some instances, however, masses of
lava formed beautiful groups, bearing a great resemblance to ruins
of ancient buildings, and standing out in peculiarly fine relief
from the smooth walls.

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

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

On this moor there was also a small lake; and here I saw for the
first time a small flock of swans. Unfortunately these creatures
are so very timid, that the most cautious approach of a human being
causes them to rise with the speed of lightning into the air. I was
therefore obliged perforce to be content with a distant view of
these proud birds. They always keep in pairs, and the largest flock
I saw did not consist of more than four such pairs.

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

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

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

A sunset seen in the sublime wildness of Icelandic scenery has a
peculiarly beautiful effect. Over these vast plains, divested of
trees or shrubs, covered with dark lava, and shut in by mountains
almost of a sable hue, the parting sun sheds an almost magical
radiance. The peaks of the mountains shine in the bright parting
rays, the jokuls are shrouded in the most delicate roseate hue,
while the lower parts of the mountains lie in deep shadow, and frown
darkly on the valleys, which resemble a sheet of dark blue water,
with an atmosphere of a bluish-red colour floating above it. The
most impressive feature of all is the profound silence and solitude;
not a sound can be heard, not a living creature is to be seen; every
thing appears dead. Throughout the broad valleys not a town nor a
village, no, not even a solitary house or a tree or shrub, varies
the prospect. The eye wanders over the vast desert, and finds not
one familiar object on which it can rest.

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

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

I strained my eyes in vain to discover any where, in this great
valley, a little church, which, if it only offered me a hard bench
for a couch, would at any rate afford me a shelter from the sharp
night-wind; for it is really no joke to ride for fifteen hours, with
nothing to eat but bread and cheese, and then not even to have the
pleasant prospect of a hotel a la villa de Londres or de Paris.
Alas, my wishes were far more modest. I expected no porter at the
gate to give the signal of my arrival, no waiter, and no
chambermaid; I only desired a little spot in the neighbourhood of
the dear departed Icelanders. I was suddenly recalled from these
happy delusions by the voice of the guide, who cried out: "Here we
are at our destination for to-night." I looked joyfully round;
alas! I could only see a few of those cottages which are never
observed until you almost hit your nose against one of them, as the
grass-covered walls can hardly be distinguished from the surrounding
meadow.

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

The best room, i.e. the store-room, was thrown open for my
accommodation, and a small wooden bedstead placed at my disposal.
Chambers of this kind are luckily found wherever two or three
cottages lie contiguous to each other; they are certainly far from
inviting, as dried fish, train-oil, tallow, and many other articles
of the same description combine to produce a most unsavoury
atmosphere. Yet they are infinitely preferable to the dwellings of
the peasants, which, by the by, are the most filthy dens that can be
imagined. Besides being redolent of every description of bad odour,
these cottages are infested with vermin to a degree which can
certainly not be surpassed, except in the dwellings of the
Greenlanders and Laplanders.


June 18th.

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

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

The church at Reikiadal is among the neatest and most roomy of those
which came under my observation. The dwelling of the priest too,
though only a turf-covered cottage, is large enough for the comfort
of the occupants. This parish extends over a considerable area, and
is not thinly inhabited.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

On our way back we noticed, near a cottage, another remarkable
phenomenon. It was a basin, in whose depths the water boils and
bubbles violently; and near this basin are two unsightly holes, from
which columns of smoke periodically rise with a great noise. Whilst
this is going on, the basin fills itself more and more with water,
but never so much as to overflow, or to force a jet of water into
the air; then the steam and the noise cease in both cavities, and
the water in the reservoir sinks several feet.

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

In communication with this basin is another, situate at a distance
of about a hundred paces in a small hollow, and filled like the
former with boiling water. As the water in the upper basin
gradually sinks, and ceases to seethe, it begins to rise in the
lower one, and is at length forced two or three feet into the air;
then it falls again, and thus the phenomenon is continually repeated
in the upper and the lower basin alternately.

At the upper spring there is also a vapour-bath. This is formed by
a small chamber situate hard by the basin, built of stones and
roofed with turf. It is further provided with a small and narrow
entrance, which cannot be passed in an upright position. The floor
is composed of stone slabs, probably covering a hot spring, for they
are very warm. The person wishing to use this bath betakes himself
to this room, and carefully closes every cranny; a suffocating heat,
which induces violent perspiration over the whole frame, is thus
generated. The people, however, seldom avail themselves of this
bath.

On my return I had still to visit a basin with a jet of water, in a
fine meadow near the church; a low wall of stone has been erected
round this spring to prevent the cattle from scalding themselves if
they should approach too near in the ardour of grazing. Some eighty
paces off is to be seen the wool-bath erected by Snorri Sturluson.
It consists of a stone basin three or four feet in depth, and
eighteen or twenty in diameter. The approach is by a few steps
leading to a low stone bench, which runs round the basin. The water
is obtained from the neighbouring spring, but is of so high a
temperature that it is impossible to bathe without previously
cooling it. The bath stands in the open air, and no traces are left
of the building which once covered it. It is now used for clothes
and sheep's wool.

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

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

The mound above each grave is very high, and the greater part of
them are surmounted by a kind of wooden coffin, which at first sight
conveys the impression that the dead person is above ground. I
could not shake off a feeling of discomfort; and such is the power
of prejudice, that--I acknowledge my weakness--I was even induced to
beg that the priest would remove one of the covers. Though I knew
full well that the dead man was slumbering deep in the earth, and
not in this coffin, I felt a shudder pass over me as the lid was
removed, and I saw--as the priest had assured me I should do--merely
a tombstone with the usual inscription, which this coffin-like
covering is intended to protect against the rude storms of the
winter.

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

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