_BERGEN._
OUR EXPERIENCES IN THE “WEEPING CITY”—SCENES IN THE FISH
MARKET—RAINY WALKS ABOUT TOWN—A BENEFICIAL LICENCE SYSTEM—VOYAGE
ACROSS THE NORTH SEA—UP THE RIVER MAAS TO ROTTERDAM.
We had travelled from the North Cape to Odde, nearly the entire length
of Norway, and everywhere had met most honest and good-hearted people,
to whom overcharge and extortion seemed unknown; but the moment we
stepped from the steamer at Bergen we landed among a race of land
sharks who appeared to possess none of the qualities we had admired
so much in the Norwegians among whom we had sojourned during the past
five weeks, but whose sole aim seemed to be the extortion of money from
travellers.
We had been repeatedly warned against Holdt’s Hotel, so we went to the
Hotel Norge, a new and large establishment, where, at about four times
the price, we found fewer real comforts than in the village and station
inns; in fact, the only _poor bread_ we ate in Norway was served us here.
Several lines of steamers connect Bergen with England, Scotland,
Germany, and other European countries, and the chief steamboat lines
of Norway centre here, so every traveller is almost certain to arrive
at Bergen during some part of his journey. We were thankful our first
impressions of the people and country were not received here, and
that we could soon forget the closing experiences of our journey, and
remember only the delightful ones we had previously enjoyed.
Certainly the chief hotels, as well as the porters at the steamboat
landings, and the class with whom travellers come in contact, bear
a most unenviable reputation, though the residents may be the most
delightful people in the whole country.
As we had found Norway a land of almost perpetual daylight, we had had
no use for lamps nor candles, but on our first night at Bergen the
heavens were covered with such thick clouds that it grew dark early,
and we prepared to retire by the flickering light of a candle. To show
how quickly one becomes wonted to what at first seems unnatural, it is
only necessary to state that it was a strange sensation, after five
weeks of almost constant daylight, to once more come back to artificial
light. Under the circumstances, the innkeepers in Norway have not the
slightest ground upon which to take in the traveller with the _bougie
gouge_, which is so dear to all European hotelkeepers’ hearts, and thus
far, as we had seen no candles, we had been charged for none. But we
found, on our bill at the Hotel Norge, candles charged at the regular
Parisian price of thirty cents apiece, and as you can purchase a dozen
for that sum at a shop in Paris, very likely you would be furnished
with a dozen and a half in Bergen, a small city of thirty-three
thousand inhabitants, where everything is naturally much cheaper; so
the landlord’s profit on candles was equal to that of a heartless
monopolist’s.
The average yearly rainfall in Bergen is seventy-two inches, and it
easily heads the list of rainy towns. Every babe who is born in this
“weeping city” is provided with a waterproof and umbrella immediately
upon its arrival, which are renewed at frequent intervals during its
municipal existence. The sun shines occasionally, but the rainy days
far outnumber the pleasant ones. The two days we spent there it rained
almost continuously, the water coming down in torrents, flooding the
streets and making it very disagreeable getting about, which partly
accounts for our unpleasant recollections of the place and our frequent
fervent exclamations, “From Bergen, henceforth and evermore, good Lord,
deliver us!”
We visited the weekly fish market, held upon Friday morning, and found
it an interesting scene. At stands in the large market place, or from
baskets on the pavement, women in costumes, and wearing a striking
white head-dress, were selling an endless variety of fish, and on a few
stands there was a limited display of vegetables and flowers.
An immense collection of boats, of all kinds, were closely packed
in together along the sides of the quays, containing an apparently
inexhaustible supply of fish of all sizes and varieties, from large
cod and salmon down to silvery little fish, a few inches long, sold
by measure. The vendors stood knee deep in fish, passing them up to
the purchasers on the quays, and during the day the whole supply
disappeared. Every housekeeper in Bergen must have been present on the
scene, each filling a large basket with a varied assortment of fish,
purchased from the women in the market place, or from the boats at
the quay, until they appeared to have a sufficient supply for a week’s
consumption. Later in the morning small steamboats loaded with peasant
girls and women steamed down the harbor to neighboring settlements, and
before night all the fish-laden boats had disappeared.
We spent a large part of our time in the shops along the Strandgaden,
the principal business street of the city, which contain many articles
the traveller will wish to carry with him as souvenirs of his visit to
Norway; among which are small models of carrioles and stolkjærres, and
peculiar oval wooden boxes, gayly painted, or decorated with figures
burned into the wood with hot irons; there are also dagger-shaped
knives, such as are carried by the peasants, wood-carvings, figures
in costume, ancient silver jewelry, pretty silver filagree, quaint
tankards, and rich furs.
During our journey through Norway the advertisement of Beyer’s
photographs had greeted us everywhere—from rocks, fences, and barns,
much like the patent medicine announcements in America; the best
memento of one’s journey is a collection selected from the finely
finished photographs in Beyer’s large store in Bergen.
The museum is a handsome building standing upon the brow of a hill,
and contains a valuable collection. There we saw the interesting carved
wooden portals of an old church, dating from the sixteenth century,
several Runic monuments, domestic and ecclesiastical furniture, silver
tankards and drinking horns, a variety of old style weapons, and an
array of figures in Norwegian and Laplander costumes.
The natural history department comprises a most complete collection of
Norwegian fish, sea fowl, and marine animals, and we were particularly
interested, since our visit to the whale-oil factory, in inspecting
the skeletons of several immense whales, and numerous baby whales, of
various sizes, preserved in tanks filled with liquor. We found the
museum a most comfortable and instructive place in which to spend a
rainy morning, and as the young lady attendant who showed us about
spoke excellent English, the visit was especially enjoyable.
Formerly there was scarcely any restriction placed upon the sale
of liquor in Norway, and in 1833 the consumption of strong liquors
amounted to twenty-eight quarts per head of the entire population of
the country, and there was a vast amount of drunkenness, with its
attendant misery, poverty, and crime. But, owing to the raising of the
duty upon liquor, and the work of temperance societies, the consumption
was greatly lowered, and the introduction of what is called the
“permissive bill” has still farther reduced and restricted the traffic.
By this law the authorities of a district may, by a majority vote,
refuse to grant a licence for the sale of liquor, or they can give the
monopoly of the liquor trade to a company, who are bound to pay them
all profits, after deducting expenses and the payment of a dividend of
five per cent. In many of the country districts no licences have been
granted, with the result that drunkenness is almost unknown.
In Bergen, and some of the other cities, the licence is given to a
company, who control all the shops where liquor is sold, and the
surplus profits of the business are turned into the city treasury.
A fine road, called the _Drammensvei_ (dram road), extending along
the side of a hill back of Bergen, high above the town, has been
constructed wholly from the profits of the liquor traffic paid into
the municipality; it is one of the pleasantest drives in the vicinity,
in fine weather commanding most extended views of the city and
surroundings.
Many of the captains and officers of the steamers are teetotallers;
such was the captain of the “Kong Halfdan,” a North Cape steamer,
who told us that his chief steward had a licence for selling to
regular passengers, but no one could come from the shore, or board
the steamer while in port, and purchase liquor. The sale of beer and
wine is permitted at all hotels and restaurants, though under certain
restrictions. During the whole time we were in Norway we never saw
a drunken person, but in Sweden, where the liquor traffic is not
restricted to the same degree, we saw quite a number.
The harbor of Bergen extends inland, like a deep bay, and furnishes
a busy scene from its many large sea-going steamers, and the smaller
carrying vessels anchored in the stream or drawn up along the quays.
West of the harbor is a hilly peninsula covered with houses; extending
its entire length is the chief street of shops, with very narrow
alley-ways branching down to the water, and upon the other side are
steep streets mounting to the summit of the hill. The situation of
the city is very picturesque, being built along the harbor and two
small inland lakes, and rising on hills, with a background of barren
mountains.
Once more, after so many weeks, we heard the puff of the railway
engine and the noise of a train as it rolled into the station from
Vossevangen, sixty-six miles distant, at the terminus of the road. We
walked through the modern promenades and around the lakes, and visited
the newer portions of the city adorned with handsome modern residences,
but the rain continued with but short intermissions, and we could
obtain but a general idea of the city.
We would have much preferred to have driven from Odde, through
Thelemarken, to Christiania, and there taken a steamer to Copenhagen,
and proceeded thence by rail; but we were limited for time, as we were
already due in Paris, and so chose the shortest route thither, by
steamer to Rotterdam and then by rail. Our courage nearly failed us as
we boarded the diminutive steamer in which we were to cross the North
Sea. It was chiefly constructed for carrying freight, its first-class
passenger accommodations being limited to five state-rooms and a small
saloon, all situated in the stern; yet as but four passengers were
booked for the voyage, we knew we should have plenty of room.
We left Bergen at night, after being rowed out to the steamer in a
small boat under a perfect deluge of rain; and during the first night
and until after dinner on the first day we had a comfortable passage,
as our course lay within the girdle of islands extending along the
coast. The scenery was tame and uninteresting after all the grandeurs
of nature we had viewed, but we were thankful for our protecting
“island belt” and enjoyed the sunshine after our experience of Bergen
weather.
As we stood on the lower deck, leaning against a large case covered
with a sail-cloth, we heard a savage growl, and sprang back in
alarm; on inquiring as to the contents of the case, the sail-cloth
was removed, and our astonished gaze rested upon a large white polar
bear, lately captured in the Arctic regions, which was being shipped
to the Zoological Garden at Rotterdam. After this sight, we no longer
carelessly kicked our heels against that case.
Soon after leaving the small town of Haugesund, with its red-painted
houses and large wooden fish houses, we left the “island belt,” and
all too quickly the barren Norwegian coast disappeared from view, and
we were out upon the North Sea, which fully deserves the epithet of
_nasty_, in the English, and not in the American, sense. Our little
steamer bobbed about like a cork on the water, pitched, and rolled,
and buffeted by the long sweeping waves and tremendous swell of the
northern sea, so that we were soon forced to pay tribute to Neptune,
and retire to the secrecy of our state-rooms. The entire journey from
Bergen to Rotterdam occupied fifty-two hours; every hour of the second
day and night seemed interminable, and it was with a blessed feeling
of relief that we awoke the third morning to find that the steamer had
ceased rolling, as we had entered the river Maas and were advancing
over the smooth waters towards Rotterdam.
Upon going on deck we were greeted with a warm land breeze, and found
it was a sultry morning; our thick clothing and spring overcoats, which
we had worn nearly every day in Norway, began to feel uncomfortable,
and it was our first experience of real summer weather, although it was
then the first day of August. The warmth was an agreeable change from
the cool winds of the Arctic Ocean and the Norwegian fjords, and as we
sat without our overcoats we enjoyed the transition to summer’s heat,
after five months of cool spring weather.
We looked out upon the flat landscape, extending in an unbroken level
plain for miles, traversed by long rows of stiff trees, with sleek
cattle feeding in green fields divided by narrow canals, with rows
of dark windmills lazily turning their gigantic arms in the gentle
breeze, and sleepy Dutch villages composed of brick houses with bright
red-tiled roofs, with the tower of a distant church standing out
distinctly against its background of blue sky. Every foot of land was
cultivated, or was covered with grass, and we looked in vain for rock
or boulder. Contrast could not be greater than between this scene and
the grandeurs of cliff and mountain, waterfall and glacier, fjord and
valley, in the land we had just left.
We steamed slowly up the river past the great manufactories along the
shores, meeting many outgoing steamers and sailing craft, passing a
war-ship anchored in mid stream; then the towers and roofs of Rotterdam
appeared on the horizon, ever growing nearer, till we were moored
beside a broad quay and landed in Holland. It was just eight weeks
since we left Lübeck; we had completed a wide circuit in the North,
embracing three countries, a host of enjoyable and novel experiences,
and a vast series of grand views of Nature’s sublimest handiwork.
EXPENSES AND PRACTICAL
HINTS.