To this I reply. In 1834 the consumption was only 2 bottles of spirits

per head; on the whole, therefore, there is an increase. Between 1849-62

(Paijkull[379]) the imports had increased 79 per cent., and in the

latter year the consumption per head was of 6·7 Danish pots or quarts,

when Scotland uses 1½ gallons per head. Mr Consul Crowe (1870-71, p.

648) shows that the consumption is “about 24 quarts annually for every

adult male, without counting ale, wine, rum, punch extract, and other

spirituous drinks imported.” My stay in Iceland lasted not till the end

of July, but till September the first. I found drunkenness prevail not

only in the capital, but in the farm-houses; and, as the trading

stations and market-ships are now scattered all round the coast, there

is no difficulty in obtaining spirits throughout the year. Since 1869,

the practice has apparently increased with the growth of commerce. As

regards the figures, they are like facts perfectly capable of misleading

as well as leading. The statistics of a sparse and scattered population

can hardly be expected to be correct; for instance, the fleet of French

fishing vessels smuggles a quantity of cognac which does not appear in

the returns. The Consular Report (1870-71, p. 650) adds, “The

consumption of ardent spirits in the island is very great, being as

490,000 imperial quarts annually (or 490,000: 70,000), and of this large

quantities are landed by the foreign fishermen, who barter it with the

natives for their fish and other raw produce.” We all issued from the

“Queen” with more or less whisky, about which nothing was asked or said;

and this may counter-balance even the large produce of the “secret

stills” existing in Ireland,[380] but rare in England, Wales, and

Scotland. Also what is consumed in Iceland is almost entirely drunk by

the men--I never saw that disgrace of our great cities, a drunken woman.

The actual state of things is not what is shown by the figures. An

eminent Icelander openly asserted that he had dived into the gin-palaces

of London and Edinburgh, yet that he had seen more drunkenness in a day

at Reykjavik than during his whole visit to Great Britain. This

comparison with a nation which derives £13,000,000 of revenue from

spirits alone, and which has “drunk itself out of the Alabama

difficulty,” is telling. There have been repeated attempts to establish

teetotalism, but none have succeeded--perhaps a whisky war might lead to

victory. And here hard drinking is apparently a little reprobated

practice. A party of English travellers lodged at the house of an

educated man, who, fresh from a visit to Denmark, expressed the _dulce

domum_ and domesticity sentiment by loud and late striving in strong

liquors. The same tourists engaged a guide, who kept himself sober

during the march, but afterwards broke out in a way which prevented his

re-engagement, sleeping _unter freien himmel_, and so forth.

That our vices like our virtues are regulated by our “media,” no

traveller can doubt. Thus in England, out of an annual total of 150,000

souls “drunk and disorderly,”[381] the number proceeded against in the

south (not including London) was 3·2: 1000; in the Midland district,

4·0: 1000; whilst in the north it rose to the extreme ratio of 10·8:

1000. These figures show, if evidence be wanted, that “as we go north

drunkenness increases.” The classical Scandinavian and the Northmen

generally were deep topers, quarrelsome withal; their wives always

removed their weapons when they sat down to drink; and they looked

forward to a Houri-lacking and _pro tempore_ paradise, where the dead

rode forth daily to cut one another to pieces, and rode back to gorge

nasty boiled pork and swill vasty draughts of bilious mead. In the

south, take Europe for instance, men hold wine to be the ἰατρεῖον ψυχῆς,

and prefer to over-nourishment gambling, or what we call immorality, in

the confined sense of the word. Race, again, heredity and atavism, or

the habits bequeathed by forefathers, modify climate: the Slav, for

example, who occupies the same latitudes as the abstemious Turk and

Italian, is a hard eater and wine-bibber. And I have a conviction that

spirit-drinking is becoming common in countries where it was formerly

almost unknown. During a late ride to Ronda in Spain, two

drunken men were seen in one day, and three appeared at an Italian

country-fair--these are instances out of many which might be quoted.

In England, on the other hand, drinking in society has been modified not

solely, as we flatter ourselves, by better taste or by a “higher tone,”

but also by the increased use of nicotine--an axiom which will be

grateful to the readers of _Cope’s Tobacco Plant_, and unpleasant to

gentlemen of the happily defunct Palmerstonian school. In the age of

Queen Anne apparently all Englishmen smoked. The Continental war made

the practice “un-English,” and an increase of snuff was the result. At

Oxford, shortly before I matriculated, some youth of heroic mould, who

deserves a statue if any one does, lit a cigar almost immediately after

the hall-dinner. He was called hard names, but he persevered, and he

found imitators: the consequence was a notable curtailing of the “wines”

which used to last from seven to eleven P.M. In 1852 I was objurgated,

and not unfrequently cut, for smoking a manilla in the streets of

London. Very shortly afterwards a ducal reformer spread his plaid under

a tree in Hyde Park, produced a briar-root, and expected his friends to

do likewise. I need hardly say that they did.

After this little experience of life, man will be careful how far he

allows local custom to modify his comfort and his convenience.

CHAPTER V.

VISITS--CONVIVIALITIES--THE CATHOLIC VIEW OF THE

“REFORMATION”--SURTAR-BRAND--THE HOME-RULE PARTY.

The Reykjavikers may be distributed into four classes: the official,

ecclesiastic, and civil; the merchants; the fishing-class; and the

paupers. The visiting hour begins with noon. You open the outer door of

the diminutive hall and rap at either side-entrance: but generally the

left, otherwise the gynæceum may be sorely disturbed. The rapping

possibly lasts for five minutes; the servant hears you or not, and if

she condescends to open she usually stares, backs, and leaves you on the

threshold. This class in Iceland appears to me the worst in the

world--practical communists with the rude equality of the negro, worse

even than the Irish help in the United States, or the servitor at

Trieste, where the men are either louts or rogues, and the women are

cheats, bacchanalians, or something worse. The domestic agrees to live

with his employer for a certain sum, finds little to do, will do nothing

but drink and be dissolute, refers frequently to the contract, tells the

master, with true northern candour, to serve himself, and finally

retires to the house of his brother’s wife’s third cousin. So the

Greenlander gives warning by “Kasuonga” (I am tired of you). Throughout

the country it appears a dishonour to do household work. Most of the

farms, even when in debt, have some article of the kind, but generally

it is an aged and feminine body, perhaps connected with the family and

liable to starve when turned off.

On the other hand, if after knocking you enter, there is probably a

startled rise and rustle of petticoats, like a flushed covey of

partridges, the home-toilette, as in the nearer “East,” being the one

all-sufficient cause. At this season well-to-do Reykjavikers rise at

eight A.M.; breakfast substantially at nine or ten, and sally forth

after noon to walk, ride, or call upon friends. The islanders dine at

two P.M.; the Danes at four, and sometimes, when parties are given, at

five--already an approach to civilised hours. A supper, mostly cold like

the breakfast, is taken at eight P.M.; and thus, as in the homely parts

of Austria and Italy, the evening visit is impossible. There is no

better contrivance for cutting up society.

As on the Continent of Europe, the stranger makes the first call, and of

course he begins with the governor. H. E. Hilmar Finsen, despite his

Danised name, Finsen for Finnsson, is an Icelander of old and well-known

stock, and he worthily keeps up the hospitalities of the late Count

Trampe, whom so many English travellers have cause to remember with the

liveliest gratitude. The family is a little hurt by the Napoleon book,

which gives (p. 160) the genealogy of Vilhjalmr Finsen, in 1857

“magistratus” (mayor) “Reykjavicæ,” through Adam, Noah, Saturn, Jupiter,

Priam, and “Odinn, rex Asarum.” The table was sent to the prince as a

specimen of an Icelandic tree, and French sense of humour could not let

pass the opportunity of taking it _au sérieux_ and printing it _in

extenso_. After all there is a fine Old World flavour in it: so a Greek

eupatrid found in his genealogy, either paternal or maternal, all his

country’s gods both of Olympus and of the other place. Governor Finsen’s

great-great-grandfather was the celebrated Bishop of Skálholt (1754) and

editor of the Landnámabók, Finn Jónsson, who loved to latinise himself

into Finnus Johannæus; his “Historia Ecclesiastica Islandiæ,” though

much decried by Catholics, continues to be a standard work. The portrait

of this worthy, in ruff and gown, is found everywhere; and the fine oval

face, straight features, and serene blue eyes have not left the

family.[382] His son Hannes Finsson was the last Bishop of Skálholt,

when shortly before 1800, Danes, for motives of economy, fused together

the two sees, in the person of Geir Vidalin, first primate of Iceland.

About this time the patronymic began to be exchanged for the family

name; the son of Bishop Finsson was called Ólafr (Olave) Finsson, and,

he being a Danish official, a judge in Jutland who never saw Iceland,

Finsson became Finsen.

The present governor’s title, Stiftamtmand (Icel. Stiptamtmaðr), has

been lately changed to Landshöfðingsi (Danish), a higher grade without

extra rank or salary; and the mayor (Bæarfógeti) has similarly been

advanced to Landsskrifari, or official secretary. Hr Finsen is a

civilian--admirals and naval officers are no longer the privileged

ruling caste, and Iceland has gained by the loss. He speaks French, but

prefers Danish; whilst his very young looking wife, whose six stalwart

boys and girls suggest brothers and sisters, knows only her native

tongue. We talked of the mysterious volcano in the depths of the

Vatnajökull, whose flames were first seen about the end of August 1867:

he advised me strongly to attempt the south-eastern corner of the island

viâ Berufjörð; Professor Gunnlaugsson did the same, and the only

dissentient voice was Hr Procurator Jón Guðmundsson. The governor was, I

shall show, right.

The second call should be paid to Bishop Pèter Pètursson, who is also

agent for the Bible Society.[383] This dignitary was most obliging in

giving me information, and he presented me with a copy of his work,

alluded to in the Introduction. He was then (1841) licentiate of

theology, “toparchiæ Snæfellensis et Hnappadalensis Præpositus” and

“Pastor Stadastadensis.” I asked him why he did not bring it up to the

present day, and he replied, with excellent sense, that to write

contemporary annals is a hard task; and that _De vivis nil nisi bonum_,

though a fine Christian precept, is a prescription for composing history

of very dubious value.

The approaching departure of “Le Cher,” and the presence of a Danish

cruiser, and the mail-steamer, officered by the Royal Navy, caused an

unusual outburst of hospitality. The first dinner where I “met the surly

Dane,” and found him an uncommonly good fellow, was at the house of the

good M. Randrŭp, Consul de France, a Continental, whose devotion to the

interests of his native country has considerably “exercised” the

political section of the islandry. I cannot refrain from expressing my

gratitude to this gentleman and his family; he was ever ready to assist

me and, indeed, all travellers; whilst madame and mademoiselle made

visits peculiarly pleasant. A Danish house is always known by pictures

and engravings of Copenhagen and other home scenes, in addition to

family photos and loyal portraits of King Christian IX. and his queen;

of King Frederick VII., who travelled in Iceland and left there the best

of names; of the Prince of Wales and the Princess Alexandra, who has

warmed every heart; and, perhaps, of the battle of “Schleswig-Holstein

meer-umschlungen.” One enjoys even the artificial presence of trees,

which look like the portentous growths of the Brazil or Central Africa,

after the stunted vegetation in and around Reykjavik. The Icelanders

sing or are supposed to sing:

“From the midst of Copenhagen’s smoke,

We all yearn for home;

Long, dearest, again to behold thee.

The noisy din irks us;

Revelry tempts us in vain;

And the fool grins contemptuously at us

In the streets of Copenhagen.”

The Danes slily remark that a good appointment and the easy temptation

of rixdollars greatly modify all this athumia and nostalgia; and there

is much truth in what the Napoleon book says, “Chose étonnante! il n’y a

pas de patriote islandais, lorsqu’il est de retour dans son pays, ne

caresse l’idée de s’en aller vivre dans un pays à végétation sérieuse”

(p. 157). In a certain stage of civilisation, there is no place like

home; about the end of the last century we find Ireland, that “mild and

sedimentary Iceland,” styled the “kingdom of the zephyrs,” and

grandiloquently described as a “country particularly dignified by the

magnificent hand of Nature, whose liberality has denied it nothing that

is necessary to constitute a great and happy nation.” A fallacy lurks in

the well-worn quotation:

“So the wild torrent and the whirlwind’s roar

But bind him to his native mountains more.”

The Switzer readily leaves his _mère patrie_, but ever cherishes the

hope of returning, a wealthy man, to lay his bones in the place which

gave him birth. The Englishman, whose native mountains are mole-hills

and whose wild torrents are mere “cricks,” does exactly the same. The

Frenchman, also an inhabitant of the plains, tears out his heartstrings

whilst bidding adieu to “beautiful France,” but when comfortably settled

abroad seems to care little for seeing her charms again. Perhaps I

should speak in the past tense, for railways and steamers are levelling

these differences.

All the guests spoke English and French, and all were very charming.

They were curious concerning Bláland, the country of the blacks; and

they asked about Dr Livingstone, whose name is known in every farm-house

which owns a few books. They inquired if I belonged to the “Jökull

Klubb” (Alpine Club): apparently in a mountainous country an Englishman

must study mountains not mountaineers. The table is always _à la Russe_;

flowers and fruits have been to our “groaning boards” what the cigar and

the pipe were to the dessert and “wine;” only those who remember the

last generation can appreciate this relief from endless side dishes and

the barbarous hospitality which prided itself upon pressing an

indigestion upon the _conviva satur_. The flowers are mostly

artificial--I wonder why the tender and beautiful island heaths are not

more generally used. The salmon from the Laxá and the sea-trout are

undeniably better than ours. The venerable custom of drinking healths is

still preserved: it descends directly from the “full,” or tumbler,

quaffed in honour of Odin and Njord, Frey and Braga. Christianity

converted these toasts to the Father, the Son (Kristsminni), the Angels,

especially Michael, and the Saints; and modern conviviality has devoted

them to present and absent friends. The habit is to “cap out” after

bowing, and then to tilt the wine-glass slightly toward the compotator,

with a second bow. When you help your neighbour from a fresh bottle, you

first pour, as in the Brazil, a few drops into your own glass; and at a

certain stage of the proceedings you do not administer a bumper. The

sole toast was to Justisrað Bojesen, the governor’s venerable

father-in-law, who was on a visit to the island. After a dessert of the

_studentenfutter_, cold pudding, dates, prunes, and olives, all rise

and, whether introduced or not, bow or shake hands, especially with the

host and hostess, saying “Velkomme,” not “welcome” but “prosit,” a

hearty old Danish, or rather German, practice, not indigenous to this

part of Scandinavia. There is no sitting when the smallcoats leave the

table; and probably from the scantiness of accommodation only men dine

out.

The next banquet, being at the governor’s, was more official, only four

black coats appeared, and even the mayor was dressed in uniform,

gold-embroidered cuffs and collar of green velvet. Toasts were numerous,

beginning with the French and Danish nations, which were duly

acknowledged: and the two strangers, a young Englishman and myself,

replied in French--not in Latin. After dinner we smoked and drank

coffee, whilst the juniors, despising the damp cold, repaired for

croquet to the “lawn.” At the bishop’s there was a strong muster of the

clergy from the out-stations, in honour of the Rev. Guttormr Vigfusson,

who had that day been ordained. Here, and here only, we saw snuff taken

at table, and a use of the knife in the matter of peas and gravy, which

still lingers amongst the best society in parts of Europe--it would be

insidious to specify--but which Beau Brummel and his cloth have

completely banished from England. It is only in the “Regimen Mensæ

honorabile,” that we still read:

“Sal cultello capia- }

}

* * * * * }tis.”

}

Modicum sed crebrò biba- }

The bishop’s wife dined with us, and went through the laborious process

of dispensing soup and meat to some two dozen guests; there was no room

for the two pleasing daughters, nor for the adopted child--certainly the

best looking of maidens at Reykjavik. We separated early, and after the

Homeric proportions of the banquet a long walk was judged advisable.

The evening’s conversation taught me how thin-skinned are Icelanders

upon all subjects connected with their country and themselves. I could

not but think of a canny people farther south, who hold praise to be an

impertinence, whilst dispraise, if it were not so truly contemptible,

would be the one offence never to be condoned. Madame Ida Pfeiffer’s

angry book was duly sat upon, all declared that she has misconstrued

almost everything she observed. The fact is, that the poor authoress,

when flitting through the country on her “weird visit,” was utterly

misunderstood by the people, and showed her resentment by the use of her

especial weapon. Even the genial and amiable owner of the yacht “Foam,”

who, so far from wishing to hurt the feelings of any reader, has passed

over in silence many things which ought to have been told, is not

forgiven for the Latin speech beginning with “Pergratum est”--“chaff” is

unknown in Iceland, and gives terrible offence to this painfully

sensitive race. Chambers is a _farceur_; Prince Napoleon is harsh-judged

for writing anything that might not please Icelandic readers; Forbes

never rounded Snæfell; the late Professor Paijkull is a prejudiced

foreigner, whose views about the sheep disease are simply ridiculous;

and even Baring-Gould is incorrect in his details. For science, we are

referred to Sir George Mackenzie; and for geography, manners, and

customs, to Dr Henderson. It is only fair, however, to state that

sensible Icelanders, who have lived out of this “living and antiquarian

museum, recalling, as far as material and practical progress is

concerned, the Europe of a century ago,” agree that Henderson praises

them beyond all measure, and recommend to all Englishmen Professor

Paijkull, as the fairest and the least exaggerated in general

statements.

I already felt the growling and the bursting of the storm upon my

devoted head. But the traveller who would do his duty to the Public must

think as little as possible of blame and praise. The reader, and also

the critic, enjoy high spirits, persistent optimism, and especially the

“burying of all animosities, and condoning of all offences”--in fact,

every tale of travel must be a Chinese picture, all lights and no

shades. The end of a journey, like the resignation of a ministry, should

cause a general whitewashing. If we tell the truth, we are sure to be

assured that our pictures are forbidding or “bilious in tone.” My only

reply is, that under certain circumstances they can be nothing else, if,

indeed, they are to be portraits, and not fancy sketches for a Book of

Beauty. I own to feeling a personal grievance against a writer who

spreads before me all the sweets, and who hides under the table all the

sours and bitters of his experience.

The next invitation was from Capitaine Alfred Le Timbre, of Saint-Malo,

a pleasant, gentlemanly man, who spends his summer in looking forward to

September, when the “Cher’s” head will turn south. To an Englishman the

most companionable of Frenchmen is generally a sailor, and a Breton is

all but a compatriot. Capitaine Le Timbre and his consul have no slight

task in controlling some 3000 French fishermen, distributed amongst 250

vessels: the foreigners are bound not to land, and, indeed, not to

approach the shore within the normal score of miles. This law is much

broken; the men are often obliged to be invalided, and are sometimes

wrecked with considerable loss of life: the underwriters after August

add 1 per cent., and 0·50 per cent. for every subsequent fortnight. I

afterwards travelled with nineteen of them on board the “Diana,” and

found them by no means a “rough lot.” The people buy smuggled goods low,

and sell provisions uncommonly high, and the results are frequent free

fights between the strangers and the islandry. The former complain that

they are always wrong in the eye of the law, and that their own

authorities are ever the most severe in the matter of fines and

imprisonment. As has been said, the Reformation made salt cod more

valuable to Catholic lands; still sundry of our fishermen, when they

fail at the Færoes, where the fish is better and more easily carried

home alive, try Iceland: the Grimsby men are said to be the worst, the

Hull men the best. An occasional cruiser is much wanted to keep the

ruffians in order: Forbes recommended the measure years before H.M.S.

“Valorous,” Captain Thrupp, appeared in August 1872. No English

man-of-war deigned to grace the millenary festival of 1874--the

successful effacement of Great Britain should be a matter of heartfelt

congratulation to us; but _gare_ the recoil of the spring. The evening

was pleasant, as usual on board a ship of war, and the belongings wore a

home look, a civilised aspect, which made it more than normally

agreeable--I felt again at home. The traveller cannot help remarking one

effect of railroads and steamers upon European society: in dress and

manners we all seem to be forming one great nation. One of the guests

was a Hr Grímr Thomsen, who is favourably mentioned by Messrs Dasent and

Newton: after being employed in sundry consulates, this gentleman of

“grim cognomen”[384] has taken a pension, and settled at the old college

of Bessastaðr, where he attends to agriculture, and looks after the

fishing. From him I heard how far superior to Arab blood are Iceland

ponies, and a curious local grievance--it must serve for a

better--namely, that strangers come to the island under the impression

that they cannot break their necks in it. He first showed me the popular

habit of making unpleasant and antipathetic, if not rude, remarks: this

mordant tone is still a mania in Iceland; it descends from the days of

the defamatory songs, which spared neither gods nor men. And now, having

dined out, we will turn elsewhere.

The Klafter (chat) Klubb is an institution even more primitive than that

of Madeira, which, greatly to feminine and connubial satisfaction, used

to close at six P.M. The many-windowed wooden building in Hafnarstræti

is the store kept by Hr Möller, who manages the club, and allows it

three small rooms somewhat higher in the ceiling than usual. It opens

only on Wednesday evenings, when the principal merchants congregate to

drink “toddy.” The yearly subscription is $12; and strangers, after

being presented, may visit it three times gratis--unless the usual sharp

practice rule otherwise. In such matters there is a conventional

honesty; even in London the secretary will sometimes do for the

institution what he would not think of doing for himself.

At the first opportunity I called upon M. l’Abbé Baudouin, now the only

Catholic missionary in the island, which formerly had two. The road

leads past the Hospital, and we can inspect the tarn whose southern bank

is the Paseo for “beauty and fashion”--I rarely met any there but

English. The little piece of water in former days was covered with wild

fowl; now it supports nothing but yellow-green weed, especially when it

shrinks in July and August. It drains large peat bogs at the southern

or inland end, and when swollen it passes to the sea by the foul ditch

before mentioned, fit only for stickle-backs. In winter it serves for

skating, but it is not always frozen over, another proof of unexpectedly

mild climate despite high latitudes. Of course it is very variable under

the influence of the volcano and the iceberg: in 1845, the last eruption

of Hekla covered the adjacent valleys with abundant vegetation; in 1869

and 1873, the greater part of the island was ice-bound for months.

On the western bank of the tarn are two targets for rifle practice, one

at 95, the other at 112 paces. I never saw shooting there; in fact the

only soldiering known to Reykjavik is when the Danish “Fylla” disembarks

her short, stout, dapper, little crew, averaging twenty-two years of

age, for drill under a tall quartermaster. On the other side of the road

is the cemetery, guarded by posts and rails; the mortuary chapel, with

its dwarf steeple, all wood, and lighter than those of the Sienna

country, faces east. Crosses are everywhere, from the deadhouse to the

_parva domus_: some of the tombs are not to be despised, and the

epitaphs beginning with “Hver Hvílir” (here lies) are not the comedies

of our country churchyards. It is a peculiar custom to keep the dead

unburied sometimes for three to six weeks; and the measure can hardly be

precautionary, as the bodies are screwed down in the coffins, and stored

at the solitary cemetery. A resident foreigner lately exposed himself to

prosecution because he interred his servant only six days after death.

Turning rightwards we pass a windmill to the south-west of the town. On

its eminence the people assembled in May 1860 to see the flames and

flashes proceeding from the “aqua-igneous” fissure of Kötlu-gjá, which,

distant some eighty miles, shot up, they say, a pillar of smoke, steam,

and scoriæ some 24,000 feet high (?). From this point also, we are

assured, the gleam of the Vatnajökull volcano could be detected in 1867.

The country beyond the mill is a barren stretch of stone, where dodgy

plovers lay their eggs, and where swarms of gnats put the promenader to

flight. A few steps lead us to the house of M. Baudouin, which is the

best in the island; it was built by Bishop Helgi Thordursson,

predecessor of the present dignitary, and the use to which it was

converted gave some scandal. The Abbé fenced himself in with a railing

and turnstile, levelled the warts, and manured the ground--the shells

and the sea-wrack offer excellent compost, but they are never used. This

was done seven years ago, yet double crops are still produced: the

inordinate price of labour, $2 a day being the wage of a field hand,

prevented further operations. Truly a few Trappist establishments

scattered over the island would do an immensity of good.

M. Baudouin then built to the west of his dwelling-place a cross-crowned

chapel, and preached to full congregations, who attended regularly--I

should mention that he is an excellent Icelandic scholar. This

proceeding aroused the wrath of the Reformed. Strange to say, in this

section of the nineteenth century, a country which boasts of “liberal

institutions” will not permit version; and, although the Althing has

been strongly in favour of extending everywhere freedom of faith,

propagandism is allowed only to commercial settlements. The house being

out of town, Monsieur l’Abbé was warned that he was not _en règle_: the

code of Denmark authorises a “subvention” to those who build places of

worship, but “subvention” was altered by Icelandic interpretation to

“permission,” and thus the good missionary was assured that he required

permission to do what the law permitted--which is absurd. His opponents

then tried to revive against him the obsolete tyrannical ordinances of

the old Protestant world: he is an outlaw, he may be flogged, and even

killed with impunity, whilst harbouring a Papist is punishable by a

heavy fine--six ounces of silver doubled every day.

The Abbé wanted nothing better than to be a martyr, but of course he

wanted in vain. Laws in Iceland are somewhat flexible things,

exceptionally applied at times, and liable to be broken with impunity:

so in England “law” contrasts pleasantly with the rigidity of “la loi”

of France. In this island, where people cannot afford paupers, families

are dispersed even more cruelly than in our inhuman workhouse system,

and each member is transferred to his or her Sýsla (county): the

country, however, can plead necessity for these severe conditions. M.

Baudouin chose to lodge and board an unhappy household subject to

forcible separation. Thereupon the mayor imposed upon the paupers a

fine, which they refused to pay, and lastly, he ordered their protector

to expel them. The Abbé stoutly refused, and asked what would result if

the affair came before Chief Justice Thorður Jonassen? The reply was,

“It will be as he sees it.” Presently, the authorities perhaps

remembered that when something of the same kind happened in the north,

the case was quashed by the Court of Cassation in Denmark--nothing more

was said. As Rome proposes to establish a Vicar Apostolic for

Scandinavia,[385] M. Baudouin bides his time. For two years he has been

in bad health, and wears a frostbitten look; he now proposes to sun

himself for a time in France, and after his return, to preach in

Icelandic when he pleases and where he pleases. The Protestant party

boldly hopes never to see him again.

I was pleased to hear from the Abbé a Catholic version of the Reformed

movement which followed the proclamation of Christian III. in 1540, and

more especially of the murder or just execution of that “illiterate and

turbulent prelate” who ended the “dismal ages of papal darkness,” Jón

Arason (Are’s son), whom foreigners call Aræson and Areseni, the last

occupant of the northern see, Hólar.[386] His enemies declare that at

eighty he had a concubine; that he unmercifully seized and otherwise

persecuted, his opponents; that he never went south without an armed

retinue of two hundred bravos; that he refused to go to Copenhagen, and

that he was a rebel against the Crown. His friends refute the charges

preferred against him; deny the hólmganga or duel which he is fabled to

have fought with Bishop Ögmund; assert that the “Historia Ecclesiastica”

contains no less than three contradictions, and persistently declare

that J. A. was simply a martyr to Catholicism. The Reformers, acting

under the Danish Government, were headed by Oddur Gottswálksson and

Gizurr Einarson. The former, a son of the Bishop of Hólar, when

studying at Wittenberg, had been strongly imbued by Luther and

Melancthon with the spirit of the new faith; he afterwards became the

first translator of the Bible, and lawyer for the northern division of

the island till he was drowned in 1556. The latter was in turn secretary

to Ögmund, Catholic Bishop of Skálholt, Lutheran priest, and, finally,

first Lutheran bishop of the southern see. They suborned against J. A.

one Daði, a peasant of Mýra Sýsla, in the Borgarfjörð; and Judas, as

usual, pretending to be his friend, betrayed him to his foes. The house

in which he was arrested is still shown a little south of the

Kvennabrekka chapel: he was carried to Skálholt, the southern see,

already Lutheran, and was incontinently beheaded.

Followed the usual scenes of persecution and destruction: we might be

reading a History of England. The Reformers became deformers. Cruel laws

were passed against the priests; the churches were plundered of their

wealth; the various religious houses,--four monasteries, two priories,

and two nunneries,--each of which, after the excellent fashion of El

Islam and its mosques, had a school attached, were suppressed, whilst

the lands were either sold, vested in the Crown, or made over to

Lutheranism. It was a case of “non licet esse vos,” and the proceeding

was exactly that of our Act of 1537.

Let me briefly remark that in treating of matters which happened three

centuries ago, both Catholic and Protestant writers are too apt to look

upon them from the stand-point of the present. Catholics see only the

use of their establishments; they will not accept the consequences of

defeat, and yet they know that by the rule “Væ victis” they would have

dealt, had they been conquerors, the same measure which was dealt to

them. Protestants note only the abuses which marked the age; they look

upon the old system with a jaundiced eye, and they misrepresent,

undoubtedly, often without knowing it, the state of the ancient Church.

Thus, we find it chronicled that many of the Icelandic bishops were

married, without being told that they might have been married before

they were ordained. And if there is anything in the present day which

draws English Protestants to Catholicism, it is the fact that honest

inquirers find they have been brought up in gross ignorance, to say

nothing more, of the rival creed.

The Abbé Baudouin is strong in the belief that by virtue of the jewel

Fair Play he would soon revive Catholicism in one of its old seats. And

looking at the lukewarm action of the Lutheran faith, the scanty hold it

has upon the affections and the passions of the people, the laical lives

of the clergy, the prevalence of the “squarson,” and the growth of “free

thinking,” I cannot but agree with him. Indeed the revival of

Catholicism is one of the phenomena of the later nineteenth century,

which time only can explain. Is it a steady flame or a fitful flicker

preceding the final darkness? Its statistics are wonderful. During the

last eighty-five years in the United States, it has risen from 25,000 to

9,600,000, a proportion of 1:4 of the population; whilst _the_ faith of

the nineteenth century, spiritualism (R. D. Owen), numbers only

7,500,000. In Holland, the very cradle of the Reformation, Catholics and

Protestants are now about equal; and, whilst the census of Victoria

gives 121 religions to less than three-quarters of a million,

Catholicism in England seems bent upon forcing men into the extremes so

distasteful to the English mind, upon dividing the country into two

great camps, Catholicism and its complement Methodism. In Iceland the

result of free propagandism would probably result in making all the

people Catholics or Rationalists.

It was generally regretted that Dr Hjaltalín the Archiater, who was

preparing for a trip in the “Diana” to Europe, did not take part in the

festivities. I need say nothing about the scientific acquirements of

this well-informed and most obliging Icelander, whose writings are known

throughout Europe. He has travelled extensively in his own country; and

I was the greatest loser by his departure, as otherwise he might have

led me to the unexplored regions in the south-east. He was especially

interested about coal, a subject which seems now to be undergoing

revival in the north: a fresh impetus has been given to its exploration

in Norway and Sweden: even in the Færoe Islands a Danish company

proposes to exploit the beds. An expedition, accompanied by Professor

Jonstrüp and a Silesian engineer, lately returned to Copenhagen, and

revived the views of Professor Krazenstein, who in 1778 examined the

Pröstefjeldt in the island of Suderoë. The report is that the people

have used their coal as fuel for a century; that although not so easily

fired as the English, it gives a stronger and more lasting flame, and

that it is free from sulphur and other minerals injurious to the

fabrication of steel and iron. But, after settling its calorific

properties, the grand question is, whether the veins are in the real

carboniferous formation, whose beds are thick enough to work profitably.

Seams which occur in the nummulite-hippurite Jurassic formation mostly

lead to loss, witness those which have been worked near Trieste, on the

Adriatic coast, and in parts of the Libanus.

Dr Hjaltalín was sanguine concerning the coal lately found in the

regions about Norðrá, a northern influent of the Western Hvítá River:

the exact position is between the little tarns Vikrafell and Herðavatn

in Norðrardal. He expects soon to settle a long-disputed question, “Has

coal been produced _in situ_?” and the sister formation of the Færoe

Islands, where a Danish officer, Captain Dahl, has bought a vein seven

feet thick for $50,000, ought to aid in solving the mystery. It is found

associated with the Surtar-brand,[387] a semi-mineralised lignite,

common on the western coast of the island. Uno Von Troil tells us that

cups and plates which take a fine polish are made of it at Copenhagen:

this reminds us of the bitumen “finjans” from the Tomb of Moses, near

the Dead Sea.

Uno Von Troil, Sartorius Von Waltershausen, and Professor Silliman

maintain this Devil’s or black fuel to be a local produce of forests

buried by ashes, and ripened by the superincumbent sand and humus. On

the other hand, Professor Steenstrüp and M. Gaimard declare this “brown

coal” to be flotsam and jetsam from the Gulf of Mexico. Professor

Paijkull found in it some thirty kinds of growth: the vine and platanus,

the tulip-tree and mahogany, associated with oak, elm, willow, alder,

birch, walnut, fir, and other resinous vegetation. These items, if grown

_in situ_, as they appear to be, suggest a change of temperature utterly

unknown to historic times, and belonging to the flora of the upper

Miocene, _e.g._, Madeira. Halley explained the intense cold of Behring’s

Straits, by placing the Pole there before the earth’s axis had altered

its direction. Others have attributed the change to the diminution of

ecliptical obliquity, the excentricity of the earth’s orbit, the

precession of the equinoxes, and the revolution of the apsides.

Similarly the Markgraf F. Marenzi (Fragmente über Geologie) cuts the

Gordian knot, by supposing an altered obliquity of the ecliptic, which

may have acted, he says, in past ages even as the present

ever-increasing excentricity of the orbit will in some 210,000 years

produce another Glacial Period, and render Northern Europe

uninhabitable. On the other hand, he remarks that however torrid may

have been the hyperborean climates, they must ever have lacked the

fructifying insects, peculiar to temperate, sub-equatorial, and

equatorial zones. Judging from Miocene Greenland, the reverse would

appear to be fact.

It is impossible to stay a week in Reykjavik without finding out that

the world is split into two divisions, strongly marked as were our Whig

and Tory of the last generation. The Danes are in the minority: they

represent the utilitarian, the cosmopolitan, and, perhaps, the

metropolitan side of politics; and they complain that whatever the

mother country does for her distant dependency, the latter is ever

clamorous for more. The majority is the Icelandic party, for whose

political aspirations I can find no better name than “Home

Rulers,”--warning readers, however, that the comparison must not be

strained and identified with that of Ireland. The main difference of the

movement, as far as I can see, appears simply this. Iceland is actually

1600 miles distant from Denmark, as far as London from Jamaica, and

practically, when the post goes only seven times a year, as far as

Australia from England. Again, the proportions of Iceland to Denmark

(1,800,000) are 1:35, and the population is 1:25·70. England certainly

would not refuse Home Rule to the Irish if they lived in New Zealand and

numbered about 750,000. No wonder then that Iceland objects to be

treated like a “Crown colony of a rather severe type.”

The islanders show a growing dissatisfaction with the Danish Government,

which they declare to be, though mild, meddling and unintelligent--in

fact, perpetuating the petty, “nagging,” and annoying policy which, lost

the duchies. They might respect whilst they hated a strong despotism;

but perpetual interference they despise as well as hate. They are urgent

as Mr Butt, for leave to stand on their own legs, to manage their own

affairs; the Danes have tried, they say, for centuries to govern them,

and progress could hardly be less were they left to themselves. The

worst that could happen to them would be to starve, in which case they

would deserve their fate, and could blame none but themselves. They

complain, and I think with justice, that individually the Dane is not

sympathetic to them; whilst Icelanders learn Danish, which, however,

they pronounce with their own accent, Danes disdain their language and

will not even attend their church. Residents of twenty years declare

that they never read the theogenic, cosmogenic, and mythic Eddas,[388]

because they are literally “grandams’ tales;” whilst the Sagas or

Sayings, moral and dogmatic, epic and historical, are a tissue of

inventions, monotonous, moreover, sanguinary, immoral, and barbarous.

The actual leader of the opposition, or Home Rule party, is Hr Jón

Sigurðsson (nat. 1811), now in Denmark, a far-famed Norsk scholar, and

an _employé_ of the Danish Government. “White John,” as the popular

nickname is, shows his clean shaven face everywhere, photographed for

the patriot party. He owns advanced opinions, but he rests within

constitutional limits; his followers, of course, go further afield, and

not a few of them may be called republican. He has the honour to appear

in the Millenary lithograph with the following notice: “President of the

Althing, President of the Icelandic Literary Society, President of the

Icelandic Thjóðvinafèlag; has distinguished himself as an uninterested

and faithful champion of the national and political rights of the

Icelanders; besides he has made himself conspicuous as a thorough

scholar in the history and legislation of Iceland.”

There is also a small and uninfluential Norwegian faction which seems

bent upon drawing the islanders to itself, chiefly, it appears to me,

because Naddodd and Ingólfr discovered and colonised Iceland, and

because she still speaks the Norræna-Túnga: a few distinguished names,

literary and political, belong to this political category.

In the Introduction I have offered a few remarks on the pros and cons of

Home Rule in Iceland. But the history of the world generally, and

especially that of Italy, teaches one great lesson--how easy it is to

divide and how hard to “unify” a country. The line between local and

imperial measures is difficult to draw and facile to be overstepped at

all times of popular excitement: a manner of dismemberment is proposed

at the time when the condition of Europe seems to demand centralisation.

Diets in Great Britain will only assimilate her with Austria, which

exists by a political necessity: statesmen say that if she were not she

would have to be invented. We can all distinguish the dim form which

stands behind Home Rule in Ireland, and I venture to predict that in

Iceland it will be the shortest path to separation from the mother

state, and to the re-establishment of the old Norwegian Republic.

END OF VOL. I.

_M‘Farlane, & Erskine, Printers, Edinburgh._

FOOTNOTES:

[1] “Mirum de Tyle, quæ inter occidentales ultima fertur insulas,

quod apud orientales tam nomine quam naturâ sit famosissima; cum

occidentalibus sit prorsus incognita,” says Giraldus Cambrensis, chap.

xvii., p. 98, ed. T. F. Dimock, M.A., Lond. 1867.

[2] The Iernis of Onomacritus (who is supposed to have written about

B.C. 535, in the days of Pisistratus). Its authenticity is defended

by Ruhnkenius (Epist. Crit. 2), and by Archbishop Usher (Ecclesiar.

Antiq., chap. 16), while Camden (Britan.) has claimed the island to be

England. Adrian Junius, a Dutch poet of the sixteenth century, quoted

by Moore (History, chap. 1), thus alluded to Ireland having been known

to the Argonauts:

“Illa ego sum Graiis olim glacialis Ierne

Dicta, et Jasoni puppis bene cognita navis.”

We shall afterwards find Sibbald identifying Ierne with Strathearn.

[3] Consult the paper “On the Stade as a Linear Measure” by W. Martin

Leake, Esq., Journal of the R.G.S., vol. ix. of 1839, pp. 1-25. The

word Stadium or Stade does not appear in the index of the first twenty

volumes; and this is only one instance of the carelessness with which

an essential addition to the Journal has been drawn up.

[4] We may ask in our turn what prevented him travelling with traders?

[5] Hipparchus ad Arat. (i. 5; confer Plut., iii. 17), also attests the

scientific worth of Pytheas, and mentions how he explained the tides by

lunar phases.

[6] See Rerum Script. Hiberniæ (Prolog., i., xii.), quoted at the end of

this section. Of Pytheas we know little, except that he was a Phocæan or

Massilian Greek, who is supposed to have made two voyages between B.C.

350 and B.C. 300. In the first, he sailed round Albion and reached

Thule. In the second, he set out from Gadira (Cadiz) to the Tanais,

which is popularly supposed to have been the Elbe. Both his works, “On

the Ocean,” and the “Periplus,” are lost. Even Strabo, who seems to have

had “that charlatan Pytheas on the brain,” does not deny his knowledge

of astronomy, mathematics, and navigation. G. G. Bredow (Untersuchungen,

etc., ii. 122-129, Altona, 1800), C. H. Tzschuckius (P. Melæ, lib. tres,

Lipsiæ, 1806, vol. iii., pp. 223-230), and J. I. Pontanus (Chorographica

Daniæ Descriptio, Amstelodami, 1631, folio, p. 741), give many

references to Pytheas. See also Histoire Littéraire de France, i. 71, et

seq.; Bougainville (Mémoires de Paris, xix. 146); D’Anville (Mém. de

Paris, xxxii. 436, and his objections to the traveller having visited

Iceland, 50, 441); Murray (Nov. Comm. Soc. Goetting, vi. 59-63, 82-86);

Fournier (Hydrographie, 322, et seq.); and Wagner (Ad Guthrie Allgem.

Welt. Gesch., xvi. 4). Forbiger (Handbuch der Alt. Geog., iii., Leip.

1848) also quotes a multitude of authors, including Mannert, Humboldt,

and Lelewel (Pytheas u. die Geo. Sein. Zeit., s. 30).

[7] These are the Acmodæ of Pliny (iv. 30), which can only be the

Shetlands. Salmasius identifies the Acmodæ, Hæmodæ, and Hebrides.

Camden makes them different, and refers the Acmodæ to the Baltic.

Parisot informs us that off the West Cape of Skye and the isle of

North Uist (the nearest of the Hebrides to the Shetlands) there is a

great gulf, which, being full of islands, is still called Mamaddy or

Maddy--hence, possibly, the Greek Άι Μαδδάι, and the Latin Memodæ.

According to Dr Charnock, the name in Keltic may be translated the

“black head or hill,” or the “hill of God.”

[8] Mela’s “Scandinovia” is one of six islands which are described

rather as parts of a great peninsula than as regular “insulæ.” Amongst

their Sarmatian population are the Oænæ (egg-eaters), the Hippopodæ

(horse-feet), and the Panoti (all-ears), whose existence is attested

by credible travellers (_Cf._ p. 165, Geografia di Pomponio Mela, by

Giovanni Francesco Muratori, Torino, Stamperia Reale, 1855).

[9] Camden suggests that “Belcarum” was a clerical error for

“Bergarum.” But Mela places Bergæ on the confines of Scythia and Asia,

and he joins the Caspian with the Northern Ocean (iii. 5).

[10] To understand the full significance of this sentence, we must

consult the context. The first “additional parallel,” whose longest

day was sixteen hours, ran through “the Daci and part of Germany, and

the Gallic provinces, as far as the shores of the ocean.” The second

traversed “the country of the Hyperborei and the island of Britannia,

the longest day being seventeen hours in length.” The third is far more

applicable to Iceland than to the Shetland or Færoe groups.

[11] C. Ptolemæi Geographia, edidit Carolus Fredericus Augustus Nobbe,

Lipsiæ, 1843. A correct text.

[12] C. Ptolemæi, etc., libri octo, ex Bilibaldi Pirckeymheri

translatione, Lugduni, 1535. When may geographical students hope

to see a portable English translation of Ptolemy, and be saved the

mortification of carrying about this uncomfortable folio? The work was

proposed many years ago to the Royal Geographical Society, and was

rejected, I believe, on the grounds of Ptolemy being a mathematical

writer. The paragraphs in the text refer to the Greek, the pages to the

Latin translation.

[13] Ptolemy assumes the southernmost part of the old world to be in S.

lat. 16° 20´ instead of S. lat. 34° 51´ 12´´ (Cape Agulhas). Already in

1800, G. G. Bredow (loc. cit.), recognising the imperfect graduation,

had reduced Ptolemy’s N. lat. 57° to N. lat. 51° 15´, and N. lat. 62°

to N. lat. 55° 15´.

[14] Lemprière and other popular books, contain the following curious

assertion: “Ptolemy places the middle of his Thule in 63° of latitude,

and says that at the time of the equinoxes, the days were _twenty-four

hours_, which could not have been true at the equinoxes, but must

have referred to the solstices, and therefore this island is supposed

to have been in 66° latitude, that is, under the Polar circle.” La

Martinière, of whom more presently (sub voce Thule), makes no such

blunder. Ptolemy gives N. lat. 63° and _twenty hours_, in which he is

followed by Agathemerus.

[15] It is suggested (Notes on Richard of Cirencester) that beginning

with the Novantum Chersonesis (Mull of Galloway?), in E. long. (Ferro?)

21°, the latitudes were mistaken for the longitudes, hence Cape Orcas

(Duncansby Head?) was thrown to the east, E. long. (Ferro?) 31° 20´.

[16] “On some old maps of Africa, etc.,” a valuable paper read before

the British Association, August 1863: Herr Kiepert is greatly indebted

to it.

[17] The error “S. Antonio,” for “Sâo Antâo,” is not the learned Mr

Hogg’s; it is common to Norie and other books on navigation.

[18] It is regretable that geographers lost the excellent opportunity

offered by the Vienna Weltausstellung of 1873, to determine in congress

a single _point de départ_ of longitude for the civilised world. Now

each nation has the pretension of making a first meridian of its own,

consequently whilst geographical readers have a fair conception of

latitude, that of longitude is especially hazy. I only hope we shall

not lose sight of the desideratum in the Geographical Congress of Paris

(1875).

[19] “A Discourse concerning the Thule of the Ancients,” by Sir Robert

Sibbald, vol. iii., Gough’s Camden (Britannia, etc.) of 1787. See also

Gibson’s edition of Camden, Lond. 1695, and Frankfort edition, 1602.

[20] The full passage of Tacitus is, “Hanc oram novissimi maris (the

Deucaledonian Sea) tunc primum Romana classis circumvecta, insulam esse

Britanniam affirmavit, ac simul incognitas ad id tempus insulas, quas

Orcades vocant, invenit domuitque. Dispecta est et Thule” (alii “Thyle”

and “Tyle”) “quadam trans: nix et hiems appetebat; sed mare pigrum et

grave remigantibus: perhibent, ne ventis quidem perinde attolli; credo

quod rariores terræ montesque, causa ac materia tempestatum et profunda

moles continui maris tardius impellitur.” Plutarch, tells us (Life of

Cæsar) that the very existence of such a place as Britain had been

doubted. When Diodorus Siculus wrote (temp. J. Cæsar and Augustus), the

British Isles were amongst the regions least known to the world: “Ἤκιστα

πέπτωκεν ὑρὸ τὴν κοινὴν ἀνθρώπων ἐπίγνωσιν” (lib. iii.). Eusebius (nat.

circ. A.D. 264) tells us in his Chronicon, “Claudius de Britannis

triumphavit, et Orcades insulas Romano adjecit imperio.” Orosius (circ.

A.D. 415) adds (vii. 6, Hist. Adver. Pag., libri vii.), “Cognitæ insulæ

erant forte et ante Claudium et sub Claudio, non quidem armis Romanis,

sed mercatoribus, aut etiam eruditis, Mela teste.” And Mela, who wrote

in the days of Claudius, assures us (iii. 6), “Triginta sunt Orcades

angustis inter se diductæ spatiis.”

[21] The mention of fruits in this passage banishes the idea of Iceland.

[22] Diogenes of Apollonia flourished in the fifth century B.C., and

also wrote περί φύσεως--concerning nature--a treatise on physical

science. In the days when Hanno the Carthaginian, passing the

Mediterranean Straits, explored the western coast of Africa, an event

usually placed in the fifth century B.C., although Gosselin (Recherches

sur la Géographie des Anciens) goes back as far as the tenth, Himilco

(Pliny, N. H., ii. 67) was also sent to explore the remote parts of

Europe. Sailing along the shores of Gadir, Tartessus (Tarshish), and

Gallicia, he reached the Tin Isles. His Periplus, originally deposited

in a temple at Carthage, was used by Dionysius, and was versified by

Rufus Festus Avienus in the fourth century, in his iambic poem “De Oris

Maritimis.” He himself says:

“Hæc nos ab imis Punicorum annalibus,

Prolata longo tempore edidimus tibi.”

And Dodwell justly observes (Dissert. de Peripli Hannonis Ætati):

“Ea causa satis verisimilis esse potuit, cur tamdiu Græcos latuerit

Himilco, etiam cos qui collegæ meminerint Hannonis.”

[23] Τά ὑπερ θούλης ἀπιστα. An abridgment is preserved by the learned

Patriarch Photius in his Myriobiblion seu Bibliotheca.

[24] Juvenal here ironically describes the progress of Greek and Roman

letters towards the barbarous north. The Britons are learning eloquence

from the Gauls, and even Thule thinks of hiring a rhetorician.

[25] For “glacialis,” see Adrian Junius before quoted. The

high-sounding and convenient epithet seems to have been applied to

Ierne, as “ultima” to Thule. If the Romans did not hold Ireland, at

any rate they knew it well: “Melius aditus portusque, per commercia et

negotiatores cognita” (Tacit. Agricol., xxiv.).

[26] In Icelandic “Orkn” and “Orkn-selr” are applied to a seal.

(Compare Lat. _orca_, supposed to be the grampus: Cleasby.) Pliny makes

_orca_ a kind of dolphin (_D. orca_), and _orec_ or _orc_ is the Gaelic

form; hence Cape Orcas, which is popularly identified with Dunnet Head,

the extreme northern point of Scotland. We have no need to derive

“Orkneys” from εἴρκω (_coercio_), these isles breaking and restraining

the force of the raging waves; or from “Erick” or “Orkenwald,” or any

other “Pictish prince famous there at its first plantation.”

[27] The Crymogæa (Sive De Reb. Isl., Hamb. 1593) of this learned

Icelander will be found analysed in Purchas, vol. iii., and Hakluyt,

vol. i. His principal argument is very unsatisfactory: “If Iceland is

taken to have been the classical Thule, it must have been inhabited

in the days of Augustus, which is contrary to the chronicles of the

island.” This author’s chief objection is thus stated by himself: “Si

etenim Islandia idem esset cum Thule, rueret totum hujus narrationis

fundamentum de Islandia A.C. 874 habitari primum cæpta;” an objection

which will be considered elsewhere. Meanwhile I prefer the opinion of

the equally learned Pentanus, who says of Iceland: “Non heri aut hodie

quod dicitur fuit frequentata, sed habuit indigenas suos multa ante

sæcula.”

[28] According to Dr Charnock, he speaks only of the Sacæ, the Persa,

and the Britannus.

[29] Dr Bosworth (Anglo-Saxon Dict.) quotes Boethius (29, 11): “Oth

thæt iland the we hatath Thyle, thæt is on tham northwest ende thisses

middaneardes thær ne bith nawther ne on sumera niht, ne on wintra dæg”

(To the island which we call Thule, that is on the north-west end of

this middle earth, where there is neither night in summer nor day in

winter). Cardale (1, 166) also: “Thonne be norðan Ibernia is thæt

ylemede land thæt man hæt Thila” (Thence to the north of Ibernia is

that island which men call Thila). See also Orosius, 1, 2.

[30] The author here settles offhand a point disputed _ad infinitum_.

Dr Charnock has shown that Scotland was at one time called Igbernia,

Hibernia (the classical name of Ireland, corrupted from _iar-in_, the

western isle), and from the end of the third to the beginning of the

eleventh century, _Scotia_ was used exclusively to indicate Ireland.

[31] برة التنك (_Barrat el Tanak_), “tanak” being the Arabic for

tin.--Dr Charnock in his various writings (Local Etymology, etc.),

after referring to the derivation of Britannia from the Punic ברת אנכ,

_barat-anac_, the land of tin or lead; and the Hebrew ברא, _bara_,

in Pihel, to create, produce; quoting Camden, Owen, Clarke, Borlase,

Bochart, Boerhave, Shaw, Bosworth, and Armstrong, gives the following

suggested derivations of the name from the Keltic, viz.: from its

inhabitants, the _Brython_; from _brit_, _brith_, of divers colours,

spotted (ברא, _brd_, pl. ברדים, _brdim_, spots, spotted with colours);

_bràith-tuinn_, (the land on) the top of the wave; from _Yuys Prydain_,

the fair island; from _Prydyn_, son of Aez the Great; from _bri_,

dignity, honour; from _Brutus_, a fabulous king of Britain; from

_bret_, high, _tain_, a river; but Dr Charnock inclines to derive the

name from _bret-inn_, the high island. It need hardly be said that

the Tin Islands (Cassiterides) contained no tin; like Zanzibar, they

were probably a mere depôt where the Phœnicians met the savages of the

interior.

[32] In the following verse of Catullus (Carm. 27):

“Hunc Gallæ timent, hunc timent Britanniæ,”

we find “Britain” used to denote the whole of the British Isles.

[33] Kassiterides is Aryan not Semitic; the metal in Sanskrit being

_Kastīra_, which, like the Arabic _Khasdír_, may be from the Greek. The

Scilly islands were also called Æstrumnides, a name which occurs in R.

Festus Avienus (loc. cit.):

“Ast hinc duobus in sacram, sic insulam

Dixere prisci, solibus cursus rati est.

Hæc inter undas multum cespitem jacit,

Eam que latè gens Hibernorum colit.

Propinqua rursus insula Albionum patet.

Tartesiisque in terminos Æstrumnidum

Negociandi mos erat Carthaginis

Etiam colonis, et vulgus inter Herculis

Agitans columnas hæc adibant æquora.”

All this, be it remembered, is borrowed from Punic sources. Therefore

Hibernia is explained by Bochart as “nihil aliud quam ultima

habitatio,” and Keltic Ierne is translated the “uttermost point.”

[34] The Greeks were in the habit of borrowing their geographical

terms from the indigenæ, not from the Phœnicians. Yet Dodwell is

hardly justified in rejecting Hanno’s Periplus because Greek names

occur instead of Phœnician. I have already derived their Erythræan

Sea from the Sea of Edom, and the Sea of Himyar (of which the root is

[illustration: symbol], redness); and the “Mountains of the Moon” from

Unyamwezi, still shortened on the coast to Mwezi, the general name for

the moon in the great south African family of languages. Dr Charnock

(Local Etymology) says, “Scotland is the land of the Scoti, who by some

have been considered as identical with the Σκύθαι, Scythæ, who may

have been named from their great skill in the use of the bow, their

principal weapon,” and he gives O. Teut. _scutten_, _scuthen_, archers;

Gael. _sciot_, an arrow, dart.

[35] Surely there is no reason why Macpherson should derive Hebrides

from Ey-brides, islands of St Bride or Brigida, the Vesta of the North.

[36] Compare “Fulham” (volucrum habitatio), the home of fowls.

[37] Celsius, indeed, arguing from the universal concensus of

the classical geographers, believes in the former insularity of

Scandinavia; the secular upheaval of the coast, which in parts still

continues, may account for its annexation to the continent. Thus

Skáni and Skáney (the-_ey_ answering to the Latinised-_avia_), the

modern term applied to Scania, the Scandinavia of Pliny and subsequent

geographers, is still given only to the southernmost point of the great

northern peninsula, the first district known to the Romans.

[38] M. Bruzen La Martinière (Grand Dictionnaire Géographique et

Critique, fol., La Hage, 1738, and Venice, 1741) runs this sentence

into the next, and makes the greater part of northern Thule barren.

The text is the reading adopted by the splendid edition of Claudius

Malvetus (Greek and Latin, Venetiis, 1729), and by the Latin

translation, Basiliæ ex officinâ Ioannis Hervagii (anno 1531, pp.

92-94, and not divided into chapters). As regards the Heruli, whom

Procopius calls Έρούλοι, we find in Stephanus Byzantinus (fifth

century) Έλούροι; in Sidonius Apollinaris (fifth century, Carm. 7):

“Cursu Herulus, Hunnus jaculis, Francusque natatu;”

and in Zonaras (twelfth century) Άιρούλαι.

[39] La Martinière informs us that the Skithifini, Scritifini, or

Scrithifinni of Procopius were the Scritofinni of Paulus Diaconus

(sixth century), and the Crefennæ or Scretofennæ of Jornandes (sixth

century). This Scandinavian tribe, according to Hermanides (Descriptio

Norwegiæ, p. 46), held the country afterwards called Scredevinda or

Scriticivinda, extending along the coasts of the Boreal Ocean from the

confines of Finmark to the beginning of White Sea, and now included in

Russian Lapland. The account of Procopius also tallies with those of

the ancient Lapps.

[40] “Scana,” in Adam Bremensis; generally “Scandia,” and popularly

derived from “Schön” and “aue.” According to Cleasby, the Icel.

“Skáney” is said to mean “borderland,” and perhaps derived from “skán,”

a thin border, surface, etc.

[41] The whole account of Solinus is interesting enough for detailed

quotation: as regards Thyle being two days distant from Caledonia, and

five from the Orkneys; the numerals are supposed to be clerical errors:

“Multæ et aliæ Britanniam insulæ, e quibus Thyle ultima, in qua æstivo

solstitio sole de Cancri sidere faciente transitum nox pænè nulla:

brumali solstitio dies adès conductus, ut ortus junctus sit occasui.

A Caledoniæ promontorio Thylen petentibus bidui navagatione perfecta

excipiunt Hebridæ insulæ, quinque numero, quarum incolæ nesciunt

fruges, piscibus tantum et lacte vivunt. Rex unus est universis: nam

quotquot sunt, omnes augusta interluvie dividuntur. Rex nihil suum

habet, omnia universorum: ad æquitatem certis legibus stringitur;

ac ne avaritia divertat a vero, discit paupertate justitiam, utpote

cui nihil sit rei familiaris: verum alitur e publico. Nulla illi

datur femina propria, sed per vicissitudines, in quamcunque commotus

fuerit, usurarium sumit. Undo ei nec votum, nec spes conceditur

liberorum. Secundam a continenti stationem Orcades præbent: sed Orcades

ab Hebudibus porro sunt septem dierum, totidemque noctium cursu,

numero tres. Vacant homine; non habent silvas, tantum junceis herbis

inhorrescunt. Cetera earum undæ arenæ. Ab Orcadibus Thylen usque

quinque dierum ac noctium navigatio est. Sed Thyle larga et diutina

pomona copiosa est. Qui illic habitant, principio veris inter pecudes,

pabulis vivunt, deinde lacte. In hiemem compascunt arborum fructus.

Utuntur feminis vulgo; certum matrimonium nulli. Ultra Thylen pigrum et

concretum mare.”

[42] Both Ausonius (Idyl. 12) and Statius (loc. cit.) make Thule to be

“Hesperia,” _i.e._, west of Britain. On the other hand, the Geographer

of Ravenna (Pre Guido? v. 31) places his Thule east of Britain.

[43] Another authority was Ari Froði (Ara Multiscius), one of the

writers of the Landnámabók, who also tells us (c. 2, p. 10, in Schedis

de Islandiâ, Oxoniæ, 1716, 8vo) that these “hermits” chose not to live

with the heathen, and for that reason went away, leaving behind their

books, bells, and staves.

[44] M. Mallet’s Northern Antiquities (Bohn, 1859), p. 189, note by

the editor, Mr J. A. Blackwell. Mr G. W. Dasent (The Story of Burnt

Njal, Edin., Edmonstone & Douglas, vi., viii.) quotes Dicuili Liber de

Mensurâ Orbis Terræ, Ed. Valckenaer, Paris, 1807; and Maurer, Beiträge

zur Rechtsgeschichte des germanischen Nordens, i. 35.

[45] Or Columbanus (nat. circ. A.D. 559); he was born

about forty years later than St Columbkill.

[46] The word “Culdee” is used by Dasent. It was reserved for a

sub-learned and ultra-disputatious Icelander, Mr Eirikr Magnússon,

to assert at the Anthropological Institute (November 19, 1872), that

Culdee is a “general term for men of religious and monastic living, and

that the epithet is derived from ‘Cultores Dei.’ The singular is simply

the Erse ‘Ceile De,’ or ‘servant of God.’”

The following exhaustive note upon the Culdees was kindly forwarded to

me by Dr Richard S. Charnock:

“The Culdees anciently had establishments not only in Scotland

and Ireland, but also in England and Wales. They were numerous

in Scotland, and continued there from the ninth century to the

Reformation. Chalmers (Caledonia) says the Culdees of Scotland

are not mentioned in history till about the beginning of the

ninth century (circ. A.D. 800-815), and their

first establishment was at Dunkeld, under the bishop of that see.

They were afterwards (circ. A.D. 850) placed at

St Andrews, where they had their chief establishment for many

centuries; and it is stated by Buchanan that Constantine III., king

of Scotland, who died in A.D. 943, spent the last

five years of his life in religious retirement amongst the Culdees

of that city. Chalmers states that before the introduction of the

canons regular of St Andrews (twelfth century), the Culdees alone

acted as secular canons in cathedrals, and as dean and chapter in

the election of bishops; and that thenceforth both orders were

joined in the right until A.D. 1272, when it was

usurped by canons regular. He also says that the Culdees of Brechin

continued for many ages to act as dean and chapter of that diocese,

and according to Jamieson (History of the Culdees) the Culdees of

St Andrews elected the bishop of that see down to the election of

William Wishart (1270), when the power was abrogated; but in those

early times it appears that the bishops in many sees in Scotland

were of the order of Culdees. In G. Cambrensis mention is made

of Culdees in the island of Bardsey, off the Welsh coast. The

annotator of the Annals of the Four Masters (A.D.

1479) says, ‘By the Latin writers they were called Colidæi,

Culdei, Kelidei, and sometimes Deicolæ.’ The Colidei or Culdees

are mentioned by various other ancient writers, and by several

Scotch historians, as monks in Scotland as early as the fourth

and fifth centuries. But the statements of John of Fordan, Hector

Boethius, and others, are entirely contradicted by the learned

Lanigan. Smith (Life of St Columbkill) and Jamieson (History)

have maintained that they were Columbian monks, or members of

that order instituted by St Columbkill at Iona, in the Hebrides,

and also in various parts of Scotland; and they have represented

these Culdees as a very strict and religious order in those early

times, from the sixth to the twelfth century. But Lanigan shows

that these statements are erroneous, and that the Culdees were not

mentioned by the Venerable Bede or any other ancient ecclesiastical

writer as Columbian monks, nor in the works of Usher or Ware,

nor in the five lives of Columbkill published by Colgan. Lanigan

considers that the Culdees were first instituted in Ireland in

the eighth or ninth century; and Aongus, surnamed Ceile De, a

celebrated ecclesiastical writer of the eighth century, author of

Lives of Irish Saints, etc., is supposed to have been a Culdee.

They are mentioned in the Annals of the Four Masters and of Ulster

(A.D. 920), in which it is recorded that Godfrey,

king of the Danes of Dublin, plundered Armagh, but he spared the

churches and Colidæi. It appears from Lanigan and other authorities

that the Culdees were not, strictly speaking, monks, neither were

they members of the parochial clergy, but were a description of

secular priests called ‘secular canons,’ and attached to cathedrals

or collegiate churches termed prebendaries; and although bound by

rules peculiar to themselves, they belonged to the secular clergy,

and are to be distinguished from the canons regular, or communities

of monks, who sprang up at a much later period, and officiated in

the chapters of cathedral churches. The Culdees also sang in the

choir, lived in community, and had a superior called ‘Prior of the

Culdees,’ who acted as precentor or chief chanter. The principal

institution of the Culdees was at Armagh, and, according to Usher

and others, there were Culdees in all the chief churches of Ulster;

and some of them continued at Armagh down to the middle of the

seventeenth century. The Culdees had priories and lands in various

parts of Ireland, particularly at Devenish Island, in Fermanagh,

and at Clones, in Monaghan, both in the diocese of Clogher; also

at Ardbraccan in Meath: and G. Cambrensis gives an account of the

Colidæi who lived on an island in a lake in North Munster, which

island was called by the Irish _Inis na mbeo_, or the ‘Island of

the Living’ (or of cattle?), from a tradition that no person ever

died on it; it was afterwards called Mona Incha, and was situated

about three miles from Roscrea, in the bog of Monela, in Tipperary.

In the time of G. Cambrensis this island was a celebrated place of

pilgrimage; and their residence was afterwards removed to Corbally,

a place near the lake, where the Culdees became canons regular of

St Augustíne. Though the Irish Culdees were generally clergymen,

yet some pious unmarried laymen joined their communities. There

were also Culdees in Britain, particularly in the North of England,

in the city of York, where they had a great establishment called

the Hospital of St Leonard, and were secular canons of St Peter’s

Cathedral, as mentioned in Dugdale’s Monasticon; and got some

grants of lands in A.D. 936, during the reign of

Athelstan, and continued at York at least down to the time of Pope

Adrian IV., who confirmed them in their possessions. We also read

in the ‘Annals,’ under A.D. 1479, that Pearce, son

of Nicholas O’Flanagan, who was a canon of the chapter of Clogher,

a parson, and a prior of the Ceile De, a sacristan of Devenish,

and an official of Loch Erne (vicar-general of Clogher), a man

distinguished for his benevolence, piety, great hospitality, and

humanity, died after having gained the victory over the world

and the devil. It would appear by the Annals of the Four Masters

that Culdees were found in Ireland in A.D. 1601:

‘O’Donnell having received intelligence that the English had come

to that place (Boyle), was greatly grieved at the profanation of

the monastery, and that the English should occupy and inhabit it in

the place of the Mic Beathaidh (monks) and Culdees, whose rightful

residence it was till then, and it was not becoming him not to

go to relieve them if he possibly could.’ At the Reformation, a

little later, out of 563 monasteries in Ireland mentioned by Ware,

and also in Archdale’s Monasticon, it would appear that there

was one belonging to the Culdees, viz., the Priory of Culdees at

Armagh. See also Dr Jamieson’s History of the Culdees, 4to, Edin.;

Maccatheus’s History of the Culdees, 12mo, Edin. 1855; and Keith’s

Catalogue of Scottish Bishops, new edition.”

[47] Vol. i., chap. 8. This traveller did not visit the cave, but

quotes from Olafsson and Pállsson, p. 927.

[48] This interesting letter was brought to the author’s notice by Dr

Attilio Hortis, Director of the Bibliotheca Civica, Trieste. This young

and ardent scholar has published for the centenary festival of Petrarch

(June 1874), certain political documents hitherto unprinted; they prove

Petrarch to have been, like almost all the great Italian poets, a

far-seeing statesman in theory if not in practice.

[49] Bochart (in Chanaan, i. 40), quoting Diogenes and Dercyllides

of Tyre, whose tables, according to Photius (loc. cit.), were dug up

by order of Alexander the Great, explains Thule to mean in Phœnician

“tenebrarum insula.” But this etymology reminds us of the Semitic

origin applied to Britain.

[50] The Icel. is Thilir, men of Thela-mörk, mark of the Thilir, the

Norwegian country now called Thilemarken.

[51] Dr Charnock remarks that “Thule” is the name of a river in

Glamorganshire, of a place in Silesia, and a town in Westphalia; also

that “Southern Thule” was a title given to a part of Sandwich Island,

the southernmost region discovered by Captain Cook in January 1775. Lt.

Wilford’s Pandit invented a Pushkara Dwipa under the Arctic circle,

corresponding with modern Iceland. Camden (Britannia) warns us, not

unnecessarily, against confounding the “insula in ultimis et extremis

Borealis Oceani secessibus longè sub Arctico Polo,” with the Indian

“Tylis” or “Tylos” (Bahrayn?), of which St Augustine (lib. xxi. 5, De

Civit. Dei) says, “Tylen Indiæ insulam eo preferri cæteris terris,

quod omnis arbor quæ in eâ gignitur nunquam nudatur tegmine foliorum,”

doubtless alluding to the palm. Strabo, we believe, does not mention

“Tylos;” Pliny refers to it in three places (Nat. Hist., vi. 32, and

xii. 21 and 22).

[52] To which may be added, neglecting the “Automata” of classical and

mediæval times (Pliny, i. 89; Ruspe, de Novis Insulis, etc.), Arons

Island (1628); Sorea of the Moluccas (1693); the offsets of Santorin

(1707); Stromöe (1783); Graham Island, near Sicily, which, in 1831, was

thrown up to a height of 750 feet, and the three outliers of Santorin

(1866). These little worlds enable us to study Earth in the art of

parturition.

[53] From Palagonia in Sicily, where it was first described (1838) by

that savant (see pp. 222-483, and 802, Dana’s System of Mineralogy,

Trübner, London, 1871). The specific gravity is 2·43, and the fracture

mostly conchoidal. The distinguished chemist, Professor Bunsen (Sect.

ix., § 1), who, succeeding in producing artificial Palagonite, gives

it iron, either magnetic or peroxide, and “some alkali,” a vague

term: Dr W. Lauder Lindsay adds minor constituents, felspar, augite

(hornblende), jasper, olivine, obsidian, hornstone, chalcedony, and

zeolite. Professor Tyndall (Royal Institution, June 3, 1853) offers the

following table:

Oxide of iron, 36·75

Alumina, 25·50

Lime, 20·25

Magnesia, 11·39 (not found by Dr Murray Thomson).

Soda, 3·44

Potash, 2·67

------

100·00

In 1872, only a single and a very poor specimen of this highly

interesting rock had found its way to the museum in Jermyn Street.

[54] From Stuðill, anything that steadies, a stud, prop, stay. A

specific usage makes Stuðlar signify pentagonal basalt columns, and

Stuðla-berg is a basaltic dyke (Cleasby). It is popularly opposed to

Mó-berg, “a kind of tufa,” properly Palagonite, from Mór, a moor or

peat-fuel.

[55] About ninety species of mollusk shells and the hard parts of

echinoderms and crustaceæ have been found in the Palagonite of Sicilian

Aci Castello. Lime, for the use of the shell-builders, enters into

the composition of such tuffs generally, and the percentage depends

upon the percentage of shells. Silica is extracted from it by carbonic

acid and sulphuretted hydrogen; and this mineral again depends upon

the included quantity of infusorial skeletons. Professor Quekett, Dr

Gulliver, and other authorities, have examined specimens of Icelandic

Palagonite, in which they could not detect infusoria nor their

skeletons, even after boiling in nitric acid.

[56] The word “trap” will be used in these pages to denote the lavas

ejected by submarine volcanoes.

[57] Until late years the general opinion was that all basalts are

of igneous formation. The contrary has been supported by Mr H. P.

Malet (Geogr. Mag., August 1874), to mention no others: he finds in

that of Rossberg and the “Rowley Rag” vegetable, animal, and earthy

particles which, passed through the fire, would have vanished in

vapour. The distinction, therefore, between basalt and basaltic lava

becomes fundamental. Granite, again, is by the same writer taken from

Hutton and returned to Werner. The author could not but observe, when

travelling in the basaltic Haurán, in that Bashan which, according to

some, gave a name to the mineral, that the dried mud split under the

sun into lozenges and pentagonal flakes (Unexplored Syria, i. 215).

Upon this subject more will be said in Chapter XIV.

[58] Forchhammer considered this trachyte an unknown variety of

felspar, and called it Baulite.

[59] See Chapter XI.

[60] The date “revealed to Moses” has long delayed the progress of

science, and the 6000 years or so, still linger in the orthodox brains.

The Hindus and the Moslems were far wiser, or rather better informed;

the latter provide for the countless Æons of the past by the theory of

Pre-Adamite kings and races.

[61] The Jökull (_plur._ Jöklar) is explained _passim_. Suffice it

here to say, that it is a mass of eternal ice formed by the enormous

pressure of the superincumbent snow; it is not correct, but it is

decidedly convenient to render it by “glacier.” The Fell (our “fell,”

pronounced _Fedl_ or _Fetl_) is a single block or peak, and in the

plural, a range or sierra; it is mostly free from snow during the

summer heats. Fjall (_Fyadl_, and _plur_. Fjöll) is the generic term

“mons” and κατ’ ἐξοχὴν; it is applied in Icelandic literature to the

Alps.

[62] Here is the culminating point of the island, usually assumed at

6500 English feet, more than one-third higher than Vesuvius (4000 feet).

[63] Usually assumed at 6000 English feet.

[64] Generally exaggerated to 5700 English feet.

[65] Popularly reckoned at 5900 English feet.

[66] This is about the forest limit of Scandinavia (2500 feet). The

spruce fir first disappears, the Scotch fir rises a few hundred feet

higher, and the highest is the birch, common and dwarf (_Betula alba_

and _nana_).

[67] Sprengisandur; from “sprengja,” to burst, to split (in an active

sense); “að sprengja hest,” to burst a horse, to ride it till it

bursts. This is the reason of the name: the Sprengisandur has so few

halting places, that there is a danger of working the horse to death

before coming to a station. It is generally and erroneously translated

“springing,” _i.e._, wind-blown, sands. The Ruba’ el Kháli (“empty

fourth,” or quarter) is the great Arabian Desert.

[68] Drangr, = a lonely, upstanding rock; in popular lore, rocks

thought to be giants turned into stones.

[69] The total number of recorded eruptions between A.D.

894 and 1862 is given by Baring-Gould, Introduction, xxi.-xxiii. There

have been eighty-six from twenty-seven (reckoned in round numbers to

be thirty) different spots, and the intervals of repose have varied in

Hekla from six to seventy-six years; in Kötlu-gjá from six to three

hundred and eleven. Such is the statement generally made. The fact

is, however, that the exact number of the eruptions is not known, as

the annals are more or less confused. The number of volcanic foci in

Iceland is popularly and roughly laid down at twenty, and of these

three are called active--Hekla, Katla or Kötlu-gjá, and the Vatnajökull

volcano. It is a large proportion out of the total assigned to the

world; the latter varies between the extremes of 167 and 300, showing

the uncertainty of our present knowledge. Popular books speak of 2000

eruptions per century, or an average of twenty per annum.

[70] Smoke also appeared in the sea off Reykjanes, and pumice was

thrown upon the shore during February 1834. This phenomenon was

followed by an earthquake at Reykjavik, August 15-20, 1835.

[71] The formation of these four items will be explained in a

subsequent page; they are very improperly massed together.

[72] The year after the author’s departure witnessed an eruption of

the Skaptárjökull, in the north-west corner of the Vatnajökull, but it

lasted only four to five days. The following account appeared in the

papers; nothing more has subsequently been learned about it. But how

can this outbreak “witness against Captain Burton’s assertion in the

_London Standard_”--the same assertion which is here repeated in the

text, and which was made in 1872?

“An Icelandic gentleman has kindly forwarded to us the following

account of the eruption of the Skaptárjökull (announced by telegraph

from Lerwick yesterday), as witnessed by him from Reykjavik, about 100

miles distant:

“‘REYKJAVIK, March 23, 1873.

“‘On Thursday, the 9th of January, about three o’clock A.M., we observed

from Reykjavik a grand fire in east-north-east direction, and all agreed

that it was “some neighbouring farm burning,” with haystacks. The fire

shot up like lightning, displaying beautiful evolutions in combination

with the electricity above. Indeed, it was exactly like a fine display

of rockets and wheels, and so bright was it, that during the dark

morning hours we all thought it must be very close to Reykjavik. But

when daylight dawned, and we could discern the mountains, we observed a

thick and heavy column of vapour or steam far in the background, beyond

all mountains visible, so it was clear that it was far off, and,

according to the direction, it seemed most likely to be in

Skaptárjökull, the west part of Vatnajökull--the great waste of glaciers

in the east and south of the island. Morning and night this grand

display was visible during the 9th, 10th, 11th, and 12th, and during the

day the column of steam and smoke stood high in the sky.

“‘When similar news came from east, north, and west, all came to the

same conclusion, that it must be in Skaptárjökull--witnessing against

Captain Burton’s assertion in the _London Standard_--and according to

the different points of observation, and the statement of our newspaper

at Reykjavik, the position of the crater ought to be between 64° 7´

and 64° 18´ north lat., and 30° 45´ and 30° 55´ west long. from the

meridian of Copenhagen.

“‘In the east, near Berufjörð, as stated in the northern paper, some

shocks were felt, and fire was seen from many farms. Ashes, too, had

fallen over the north-east coast, so that pasture fields were covered

so far that the farmers had to take their sheep into the huts and feed

them. But the paper says: “In the south no earthquakes were felt, or

noises heard in the earth, far or near, as far as Markarfljót (near

Eyjafjallajökull). Nowhere has been observed any fall of ashes or

dust, but all over a bad smell was felt, and also here in Reykjavik in

the forenoon of the 10th. The people of Landeyjar (opposite Westmann

Islands) assert the same to have been the case there on the first day

of the eruption, but here, at Reykjavik, it was not observed that day,

but we felt the air very close, particularly on the 9th, from three to

five o’clock in the afternoon, with some smell of sulphur and powder,

very like the smell from a lately discharged gunbarrel.”

“‘No change was observed in the sun, moon, etc. The sky was clear all

these days. The direction of the wind was from N.W.--W.S.W., and the

weather fine. At Laudeyjum the wind had been E.N.E. on the 10th, with a

strong breeze, and the column of steam got very high, and mist hid all

the eastern horizon, but no fall of ashes took place.

“‘This eruption lasted only four or five days, and is not likely to

have done any damage to inhabited parts or pasture grounds, except in

so far as the fall of ashes might hurt the sheep.

“‘The weather has been very changeable during the whole winter, but

very little snow has fallen in the southern part of the country. The

cod-fishing has been very favourable when the boats have been able to

go out. During the stormy weather some fishermen were lost. On the 1st

of March we had a very heavy fall of snow, but since then the weather

has been mild but rather stormy.’”

[73] It was reported that there were a hundred wrecks, the “Abydos”

alone being able to ride out the storm.

[74] I have given an account of this event in “Ocean Highways,”

February 1874.

[75] The late Professor Forbes was the first to show that Iceland,

the Færoes, the Hebrides, Ireland, and Iberia, are connected by a

“continuous tract of land, ranging from the Azores along the line of

that belt of gulf-weed which exists between N. lat. 15° and 45°.”

[76] This eruption is reported to have discharged a mass of lava

greater in bulk than Mount Etna. According to Henderson (_i._ 274-289,

who borrows from the account of Chief-Justice Stephensen), it destroyed

9336 human beings, 28,000 horses, 11,461 head of cattle, and 190,488

sheep. This mortality resulted either directly from the ejection of

molten lava and stone showers, débâcles and aqueous lavas; or from

pestilence, the effect of sulphureous and other noxious vapours; or

from famine, the fish leaving the coast, and the pasturage being

destroyed by erupted sand and ashes.

[77] Fjörðr, _plur._ Firðir.

[78] Út-ver in Icel. is an outlying place for fishing, etc.; hardly

corresponding with the continental “udver.”

[79] See Journal, chap. 5.

[80] Surtr, _i.e._, the Black, an Eddic name of a fire-giant.

[81] Englishmen would call them “old men.”

[82] Henderson (i. 127) translates “Höfdabrecka” by “Breakneck.”

Hálsavegr is from “háls,” Scotticè “halse.”

[83] Á (fem.) at the end of a word means a water, as Temsá = Thames

River: so the German Don-au is the Iceland Dóná, the Danube. The root

may be traced through the Sanskrit _Ap_, the Persian [Illustration:

Persian], and the Latin _Aqua_ to almost all families of European

speech. Uncomposed, the Icelandic “Vatn” means water or lake.

[84] In old vellums spelt invariably Vatz, Vaz, or Vazt, and Vass is

the modern pronunciation. Only in two instances not dating earlier than

the twelfth century, we find Vatr, with the _r_ common to all Teutonic

peoples, and showing its connection with Wasser and Water (Cleasby).

[85] Paijkull translates the word “to ascend violently.” It is derived

from _að gjósa_, to gush. Max Müller (Science of Language, Longmans,

1862) derives it from the root which gives ghost, geist, gust, yeast,

gas, etc.

[86] The dictionary gives only Náma or Námi, a mine or pit, for this

word of general use.

[87] Lyell’s Principles of Geology, vol. i., p. 241, 11th edition. A

fuller notice of this isotherm (32° F.) is given in Baring-Gould’s

Introduction, pp. xxx., xxxi.

[88] The question is of vast practical importance. Upon it hinges the

decision whether future Polar voyages, so necessary to the advanced

study of electrical phenomena, to mention no other, shall take the

route by Smith’s Sound or by Spitzbergen. For the battle of the Gulf

Stream and Polar current between the Færoes and Iceland, see the

Mittheilungen, xvi. (Nos. vi. and vii. of 1870), where the Gulf Stream

is made to show 36°·5 F. as far as Novaya Zemlja, and to enter the

Polar basin with diminution of temperature. The two distinct strata,

the warm (40°-80° F.), and the heavier and more saline cold (about 35°

F.) in the channel of the Færoes towards Scotland, have been described

by Drs Carpenter and Wyville Thomson, the last time at the British

Association, Sect. E, August 22, 1874.

[89] The author and his late friend F. F. Steinhaeuser, were never

satisfied with Admiral Maury’s “Ocean River,” even though this ῥοὴ

ὠκεανοῖο flowed more rapidly and was a thousand times larger than

the Mississippi--larger, indeed, than “all the rivers of the globe

put together.” Like the Pacific Kurosiwo or Black Stream, off Japan,

it always suggested the idea of being only the main artery, the most

important and noticeable part of a great whole.

[90] The most extensive are those of M. Victor Lottier (Physique,

etc.), printed in the Gaimard work, and containing three parts: I.

Observations of magnetism--declination, inclination, diurnal variation

and intensity. II. Meteorology--barometer and thermometer; force

of winds, Aurora Borealis, etc. III. Miscellaneous observations;

astronomical phenomena; tides; remarks on maps and stations of the

expedition. The Smithsonian Institute has published many studies of the

Icelandic climate: in Scotland, also, as will presently appear, much

has been done.

[91] The author has been unable to find at Trieste, the publications of

the “Smithsonian Institute.”

[92] Old writers declared that the mercury habitually rose higher in

Norway and Iceland than in England and France; moreover, that the air

particles being more compressed and heavier, diminished the weight of

objects. Thus, we are assured, 1000 lbs. of copper at Rouen = 1010 at

Throndhjem.

[93] The author did not see a thunderstorm during his stay in Iceland.

As regards reverberation, he remarked on the Camerones Mountain, when

above the electrical discharges, and when free from the echo of earth,

that the lightning was followed only by a short, sharp report, without

any “rolling.”

[94] Ozone is utterly absent during the Sharki or Scirocco of Syria,

and the trying effects of the east wind upon the constitution are well

known to every resident. This is the more curious as it exists in

the adjoining desert, when in the Nile valley and in the oases it is

comparatively deficient. It has lately been proved to be everywhere

more abundant in winter than in summer.

[95] It is there called Soel-far Vind (sun-faring wind); hence

Sól-gangs veðr means weather of the sun’s course. The normal

continental winds are (1.) the Land-south (south-east), warm, and

therefore called Korn-moen, or the mother of corn; (2.) the north-east,

termed Hambakka because it melts snow from the hill-tops; (3.) the

Haf-gul (sea cooler), the west wind or sea breeze of the tropics,

blowing from noon till midnight; and (4.) the Land-gul (land cooler),

the east or land breeze, lasting from 2 A.M. to 10 A.M.

[96] Mr J. A. Hjaltalín remarks, “Thoka is equivalent to the English

fog, and Sjólæða (sea creeper) is the mist which lies on the surface of

the water, leaving the hill-tops clear. These are the only Icelandic

names known to me.”

[97] The term is also applied to lightning, and to meteors generally.

Hooker corrupts it to “Laptelltur,” and he has been copied into many a

popular book.

[98] The word is written Nikuðr and Nikuðs, Hnikar and Nikarr:

originally a title of Odin, it has survived in the Icel. Nykr, a nick

or water-goblin in the shape of a grey sea-horse, with inverted hoofs;

and in the German Nix, a nymph or water-fairy.

[99] Or a “carrion lowe” (Cleasby).

[100] Even at Trieste, which is the heart of the temperates, with the

parallel of 45° passing near it, there is an autumn, but no spring, the

weather changing at once from cold to heat.

[101] Svasuðr, the name of a giant, the father of Summer. See the Edda.

[102] The way of counting amongst the old Scandinavians and Teutons was

complex and curious, as they had no indeclinable numeral adjectives

from twenty to a hundred (_i.e._, 120): the word “tigr,” a ten or

decade, was a noun like Hundrað and Thúsund. Thus 41 was called 4 tens

and 1, or “1 of the fifth decade;” 45 was “half the fifth tenth;” and

48 was “4 tens and 8;” or going back (like the Lat. un-de-viginti and

duo-de-triginta) “5 tens short of 2.” In the fourteenth century “tigr”

began to lose its character as a substantive (Cleasby).

[103] Mr Dasent says the Thursday between April 9 and 15 (O. S.).

[104] Modern, Góa.

[105] “Gaukmánuðr,” according to Guðbrandr Vigfusson, from the middle

of April to the middle of May. Gaukr is the Scotch gowk, the cuckoo.

Hrossa-gaukr, “horse cuckoo,” is the green sandpiper, from its peculiar

cry (Cleasby). In Sect. 7 the word will be found to have another

meaning.

[106] According to the old Icelandic computation of time, as given in

the Almanak, Heyanuir was the first month, and began the 25th of July;

II. Tvímánuðr; III. Haustmánuðr; IV. Gormánuðr; V. Frermánuðr; VI.

Mörsugr; VII. Thorri; VIII. Gói; IX. Einmánuðr; X. Harpa; XI. Skerpla;

XII. Sólmánuðr, ending on the 20th of July. From July 21st to 24th

are called Aukanætur. The names of the months VII. to IX. are still

popularly known. For the rest, the Icelanders count by winter weeks

and summer weeks, when they do not use the common names of the months.

The terms given by Finnur Magnússon in Specimen Calendarii, _e.g._,

Miðvetrarmánuðr, Föstuinngangsmánuðr, are never used, and it cannot be

seen that they ever were known to the people.

[107] See the Icel. treatise called “Fingra-rím;” rím = computation,

calendar: A. S. rîm, and ge-rîm.

[108] Dagsmark, “day-mark,” means both the space of three hours

(_trihorium_) and the mark by which this period is fixed.

[109] Others derive it from vika, a week.

[110] Dillon reduces it at Reykjavik to three, and he found the

sunlight during Christmas little lighter than our twilights; but the

winter was worse than usual.

[111]

Synopsis of dates:

A.D. 860 (861, Uno Von Troil). Iceland touched at by Naddodd. About this

time (862), the Scandinavians, according to Nestor, founded the

Russian empire.

” 864. Garðar Svafarson built the first house in “Garðarshólm.”

” 874. First official colonisation of Iceland by Ingólfr Arnarson.

” 877. Gunnbjörn discovered the Gunnbjörnarsker and coast of Greenland.

” 929. Althing or Diet founded by Ulfljót.

” 930-1300. Augustan age of literature under the aristocratic Republic.

” 981-1000. Official discovery of the New World by the Northmen.

” 982. Greenland visited by Eirikr Rauði (Eric the Red), father of Leifr

the Lucky.

” 986. First colony in Greenland established by the same. In 1124 the

Bishop’s See was placed at Garðar.

” 1262-1264. Iceland incorporated with Norway.

” 1380. ” ” ” Denmark.

” 1477. Iceland visited by Columbus.

” 1540-1551. Lutheranism prevailed over Catholic Christianity.

” 1800. Althing abolished.

” 1843. ” re-established.

” 1845. ” first met at Reykjavik.

” 1874. First Constitution granted to the island on the date of its Millenary

after Ingólf’s settlement.

[112] _i.e._, Land-nim-(Germ. nehmen, “Corporal Nym,” and modern slang,

“to nim”) book.

[113] Cointius Annal. Benedict, tom. viii., et Bollandus die 3 febr. in

Comment. prævio ad vitam S. Anscharii, § xvii., Copenhagen, 1857.

[114] “The Apostle of the North,” a monk from the monastery of New

Corvey, in Westphalia, who introduced Christianity to Denmark about

A.D. 827.

[115] The words in italics are those quoted with variants by Pontanus,

who, however, has added nothing to nor has he taken aught from the

sense.

[116] Data est hæc bulla post annum 834, quamvis ab aliquibus et

præsertim a Pontano in rebus Danicis eo anno adscribatur.

[117] Here, again, the question is simply, “Has the Bull been tampered

with or not?” It would evidently be desirable to consult the earliest

copies still extant, but unfortunately the author has no power of so

doing at present. The Bull of Pope Nicholas V. (A.D. 1448) should also

be carefully inspected. See p. 84.

[118] In p. 432 (loc. cit.) we are told that _Angrim Jonas_ is

“erroneously call’d _Arngrim_ by some”--it need hardly be said that the

real name is Arngrímr Jónsson.

[119] Popular history, it has been seen, attributes the exploration to

Eirikr Rauð (Eric the Red) in A.D. 982, some five centuries before the

days of Columbus. Captain Graah, of whom more presently, speaks of a

papal Bull by Nicholas V., who in A.D. 1448 declares Christianity in

Greenland to date from 600 years back, thus removing the colonisation to

A.D. 848. We have ample materials for determining the exact limits of

the Northmen’s explorations by their precising the length of the day.

For instance, at Vínland the sun at the winter solstice was above the

horizon from Dagmál (7.30 A.M.) to Eykt (4.30 P.M.), which gives nine

hours = N. lat. 41°.

[120] The Dictionary (iii. 780) gives forty-nine Keltic names in the

Landnámabók only, neglecting the Orkneyinga, or Iarla, Saga, and the

Njála.

[121] Mr Jón A. Hjaltalín remarks: “The large number of Irish settlers

in Iceland after Ingólf do not prove anything concerning a previous

settlement. No one denies that Iceland was visited by the Irish

previous to the Norwegian discovery. No proofs, however, have been as

yet brought forward to show that a settlement was made more extensive

than that spoken of in Landnámabók, and by Ari Fródi. The great bulk

of the settlers were Norwegians; the rest were Danes, Swedes, and

Irishmen.” (See Landnámabók; Lambert, Ἀρχαιονομία, fol. 137, p. 2; and

Encyclopedie des Gens du Monde, vol. ii., p. 60.)

[122] Some foreigners erroneously write for Althingi, “Allthing,” which

would be pronounced Atl-or Adl-thing. _Al_-is from _allr_, all, the

highest possible degree, _e.g._, Al-máttigr, Almighty. _All_-is right

or very, _e.g._, All-vitr, right clever (Cleasby). The following is a

synopsis of the most important events in the history of this famous

Diet:

A.D. 965. Reform (bill) carried by Thord Gellir, who organised the courts and

settled the political divisions of Iceland.

” 1004. Institution of the Fifth Court (of Appeal).

” 1024. Repudiation of the King of Norway’s attempt to annex Iceland.

” 1096. Tíund or tithes introduced.

” 1117-18. The laws codified, written down, and adopted by the Althing. This

code was afterwards called Grágás.

” 1262-64. Submission to the King of Norway.

” 1272. Second written code (Járn-siða) introduced.

” 1280 (?). Third written code (Jóns-bók) introduced.

[123] Traces of some two hundred Things remain in the “Standing Stones”

of Great Britain. Mr Dasent, from whose study of the Iceland republic

(Introduction, etc., Burnt Njal, pp. li.-lxvii.) these lines are

abridged, shows our _meeting_ to be “Mót-Thing,” a public gathering of

the district freeholders: as _Husting_ is “House-Thing,” an assembly of

householders. In Norway the Things were founded by Hákon, son of Harold

Fair-hair, and the conquest over the Jarls was at once followed by the

constitution.

[124] Sir Thomas Hungerford in 1377 was the first Speaker, and Sir

John Busby in 1394 was the first Speaker formally presented for royal

approval. These officials were the mouth-piece of the House, and by no

means so called on the _lucus-a-non-lucendo_ principle.

[125] The word is liable to misapprehension. It is used of the place

as well as of the body sitting there; of the Sacred Circle (Vé-bönd)

as well as of the lawmen who occupied it. Moreover, under the

Commonwealth, it was the legislative session that met on the Lög-berg;

and after the union with Norway it was the public court of law at the

Althing considerably modified. The term is also variously derived from

Rètt, a fence, a sheep-fold; or from Að rètta lög, to right (or make

right) the law (Cleasby). Moreover, the Lög-berg (Hill of Laws) of the

Althing was called Thing-brekka (Parliament brink, or high place) at

the local assemblies.

[126] Lög (_i.e._, “laws,” used only in the plural; from “lag,” a lay,

layer, stratum) also signified the legal community or State.

[127] The Anglo-Saxon Leode, probably akin to June (ærra Liða) and July

(æftera Liða); the Irish Fo-leith, and our modern “leet,” properly the

law-court of the hundred. In the Saga times (tenth century) the Leið

was a kind of county assembly; during the rule of the Grágás (twelfth

and thirteenth centuries), the Leið was held where the Vár-Thing used

to sit, in common with all the three Goðar of the Quarter (Sam-leið).

[128] The Northlanders, by a provincial arrangement which the central

authority hardly recognised, claimed four instead of three judicial

circles (Thing-sóknir). The reason was, that the heads of houses east

of the Eyjafjörð and west of the Skagafjörð, whose Quadrant-Things lay

in the middle of the Tetrad, refused to ride so far.

[129] Nat. A.D. 930; converted to Christianity, 998, and

murdered, 1014. Cleasby derives “Fimtar” from “Fimt,” the heathen week,

a pentad or five days; whilst the Swedish “Femt,” a court before which

one has to appear a “fimt” from the citation, seems to have floated

before the minds of the founders.

[130] Fat and ferocious Ólafr Helgi (Olaf II., or the Saint), when

succeeding to the throne of Norway, doomed to death and slavery, to

exile and confiscation, all who opposed the new faith. The blood of

martyred pagans was not the seed of their Church; and persecution,

vigorously carried out, took, as usual, wide effect. After his death at

the battle of Stikklestad, he became the tutelar saint of Norway, the

“Lamb” of the calendar. His remains ranked as relics in the ancient

cathedral at Throndhjem, till Protestantism, or rather Lutheranism,

under Gustavus Vasa (A.D. 1527), and Christian II. (1536), replaced

Romanism in the Scandinavian peninsula. The Royal Order of Norway,

founded in 1847 by the late king, Oscar I., bears his name. London has

boasted of four “St Olaves;” and Tooley Street of the Tailors, according

to Mr Peter Cunningham, notes the site of the first church. To retain

due reverence for such a “Saint,” we must believe with Pliny (Epist.,

viii. 24): “Reverere gloriam veterem, et hanc ipsam senectutem, quæ in

homine venerabilis, in urbibus sacra. Sit apud te honor antiquitati, sit

ingentibus factis, _sit fabulis quoque_.”

[131] It was a classical dream which made Odin or Sigge (whence

Sigtuna), and his followers the Æsir (minor gods), fly from Pompey in

the days of Mithridates. It was a philological dream of Finn Magnússon’s

which identified Bragi with Bramhá, and the ferocious and sanguinary

Odin with the moral and holy Buddha, the prototype of the Christian

exemplar. The casual resemblance to the Etruscan Tina has not been more

fortunate. Some one well remarks that “a man born about A.D. 333, and

dying seventy-eight years old (A.D. 411), would, in respect to time,

perfectly represent the personage whom the Scandinavians and the

Anglo-Saxons call Odin and Woden, and who are the roots of their royal

dynasties.”

[132] This fact was not unknown to Bishop Warburton and to Lord Herbert

of Cherbury. In the Egyptian hymn to Phthah we read: “Praised be thy

countenance, Ruler of the World!” Ausonius thus explains the multitude

of synonyms:

“Ogygia ME Bacchum vocat;

Osirin Ægyptus putat;

Mystæ Phanacen nominant;

Dionyson Indi existimant;

Romana sacra Liberum;

Arabica gens Adoneum;

Lucianus Pantheum.”

Those who see in ancient myths the eternal contest of sunlight

and darkness; of summer and winter, and, in the moral world, of

intelligence and ignorance, will find strong confirmation in Eddaic

poetry and prose.

[133] Properly written Thórr, a congener of the Mæso-Gothic Thunrs,

the Thunder-god who named our Thursday. Whilst his golden-haired wife,

Sif, who represented mother earth, with her sheaves of ripe grain,

and the sanctity of wedlock and the family, is wholly forgotten, this

terrigenous deity still lives, as we shall see, in modern Icelandic

names. It is usually said that Iceland, following Norway, preferred

Thórr, whilst the Danes paid the highest honours to Odin, and the

Swedes to Freya (Venus), or rather to Freyr, her brother, the sun-god,

who presided over the seasons and bestowed peace, fertility, and riches.

[134] The reader may remember, in the late Rev. Frederick Robertson’s

Lectures to Working Men, a fine passage upon the same subject.

[135] Væringi (plur.-_jar_) _Warings_, or the name of the Scandinavian

and Anglo-Saxon warriors serving as bodyguards to the Emperors of

Constantinople.

[136] Of the monks proper (Icel. Múnkr, = μονὸς, monachus), only

Benedictines were found in Iceland. They were accompanied by the

regular canons of St Augustine. There were no “brothers” (fratres)

or religious mendicants, as Dominicans and Franciscans; nor “regular

clerks,” as Jesuits, Theatines, etc., who date since the sixteenth

century; nor secular priests united in congregations like Oratorians

and Lazarists.

[137] As will be seen, modern law recognises, or rather compels, an

official arbitration before causes can be brought into court.

[138] The author would by no means make the invidious assertion

that the Danish treatment of colonies was worse than that of other

contemporary nations. On the contrary, in Africa, India, and the West

Indian Islands, it has been a favourable contrast to most of the rest.

But Europe in the fourteenth century, and in the ages which followed

it, presents a melancholy contrast with the refined and civilised usage

of her settlements by Republican and Imperial Rome.

[139] Of this process there were two forms, which began to be passed

(circa) A.D. 1180. Bann, or Meira Bann was E. Major; Minna Bann was E.

Minor, whilst the interdict was called For-boð, the German Verbot.

[140] This prudential reservation is the more necessary as most of our

information comes from the enemy. Bishop Jón Ögmundsson had two wives,

not at the same time, but one after another.

[141] “In the sixteenth century the Reformation was forced upon the

people by the united kingdoms of Denmark and Norway; its progress

was everywhere marked by blood, and even the Lutheran historian,

Finn Jónsson, is unable to veil completely the atrocities which were

committed. The venerable bishop of Hólar, Jón Arnason (_sic_, doubtless

a clerical error), the last Catholic prelate, received the crown of

martyrdom along with his two sons, uttering with his dying breath,

‘Lord, into Thy hands I commend my spirit!’” Thus writes Baring-Gould

(Introduction, xl.). Mr Jón A. Hjaltalín hereupon observes: “I must

call attention to this quotation from Mr Baring-Gould regarding the

introduction of the Reformation into Iceland. I cannot protest too

strongly against it. _It is utterly false from beginning to end._ Every

one who has the slightest acquaintance with the history of Iceland

during the sixteenth century knows that Lutheranism was _not_ forced

upon the Icelanders. The Reformation movement was only encouraged by

the king of Denmark. Old men, Bishop Jón Arason among others, were

permitted to retain their former faith if they were willing to leave

others equally undisturbed in the exercises of their religion. This

fact is corroborated by the bishop’s immediate descendants, who in

everything glorified their ancestor as a martyr. Further, it cannot

be shown that a single person lost his life in Iceland in connection

with the introduction of the Reformation. The quarrel which led to the

death of the bishop and his two sons arose from a dispute about the

sale and occupation of a farm in the west. Bishop Jón Arason was an

exact counterpart of the chiefs of the Sturlunga times; he delighted

to ride about the island with hundreds of followers, and to engage

in fights and broils with every one who had any property to lose.

That it was not religious zeal that devoured him or his sons may be

seen from the fact, that in a letter to the chancellor of the king

of Denmark (dated 10th August 1550) they say that ‘their father the

bishop, as well as themselves, are ready to keep the holy Evangelium,

as His Majesty has ordered it to be preached everywhere in Iceland.’

There is all probability that they would have come to an untimely end

even if there had been no Reformation. The king had indeed ordered

their arrest as disturbers of the public peace. He did not, however,

order their execution. The responsibility for that act must rest upon

the Icelanders who seized them, and mistrusted their ability to keep

them in safe custody until they could be brought before the proper

tribunal. So far from anybody losing his life through the introduction

of the Reformation, no one was even deprived of his liberty for a

single hour except by Bishop Arason and his sons. I hope it was through

crass ignorance only that Mr Baring-Gould penned such an extraordinary

statement as the one quoted. Or is he able to name the people who

suffered during the introduction of the Reformation, and to show

trustworthy documents that they did thus suffer?”

[142] Charges of national ignorance are favourites with the ignorant,

and unhappily not only with them: the analphabetic state of Spain is

pressed into active service by the English home littérateur, especially

of the Evangelical or Low Church school. It sounds strange to one

who has often met upon the outer bridle-paths men mounted on their

mules, and diligently reading books and newspapers. And the superior

civilisation of the Latin race is hardly to be measured by the three

“R’s,” or by similar mechanical appliances.

[143] The document is quoted _in extenso_ by Henderson (ii. 164-166),

and by Baring-Gould (Introduction, pp. xlv., xlvi.).

[144] The Icelanders’ view of the connection between their country

and Denmark is simply this: They declare the union, dating from 1264,

and renewed in 1380, to be personal, not real, and limited to both

countries being under the same king. The Rigsdag cannot therefore

legislate for the Althing, and the constitutional law of Denmark

has never become that of Iceland. They consequently demand that the

Althing should have legislative and not mere counselling powers; that

it should sanction in the island the laws proposed by the Danes; and

that the minister who advises the Crown in Icelandic matters should

be responsible to this Diet. On the other hand, Denmark denies the

validity of mediæval treaties, the relations of the mother country and

her dependency having been completely altered by historical events;

consequently Iceland is now an integral and inseparable part of the

Danish kingdom, and the laws of Denmark must be valid in Iceland as

in the other colonies. Iceland, they say, cannot claim any self-rule

as a right; still, it may be desirable, on account of their peculiar

circumstances, to allow the Icelanders a voice in the management of

their own affairs, subject, however, to the supervision and consent of

the Rigsdag and the Home Government.