REYKJAVIK.
Reykjavik is the capital of Iceland. It has a population of about 4000,
and is pleasantly situated on the shores of a small bay to the north of
a headland, which forms an excellent harbour. Several islands lie so
close to the shore that they can be reached on foot at low water. We had
anchored here at night, and when we left our berths in the morning, the
town looked quite imposing as compared with the smaller ones we had
already seen.
We were somewhat disappointed to hear from the captain that he could not
remain a minute longer than four days at Reykjavik, possibly only three
and a half, during which time, in order to pay our visit to the Geysers
(the chief attraction in our trip), we should be obliged to ride 160
miles over very rough ground; and even calculating our riding powers at
40 miles a day, no time would be left for contingencies, or a visit to
Hecla, which had been an object of our ambition.
It was, however, a question of being contented to see what we could in
that time, or remaining in Iceland for the next steamer, a disaster we
did not look forward to at all, as we had heard of travellers who had
been left for weeks at Reykjavik, from failing to present themselves on
board at the appointed time. Vaughan and Mr Gordon were up early, and
went ashore before breakfast, carrying an introduction to 'Herr Zoega,'
the chief guide and pony owner in the capital; and they engaged for our
excursion to the Geysers twenty good ponies and two guides, one of whom
could speak English, at the same time bringing back on board four pack
boxes to fill with eatables and such necessary clothing as we required
for the trip. These boxes we packed as tightly as possible, so as to
prevent the things rattling about on the ponies' backs. They were about
18 inches long, 12 deep, and some 8 inches wide, consequently the
necessary luggage for five of us quite filled two of them,
notwithstanding that we took as little as possible.
Our provender consisted of potted meats, half a ham, biscuits, beer, and
whisky, and with dinner utensils, such as enamelled metal plates,
tumblers, knives, forks, etc., from our luncheon basket, quite filled
the boxes. To carry one's own food on such an excursion is absolutely
necessary, unless you can live on coffee and skyr.
When calculating the number of ponies to be hired, you must allow two
per head, whether for riders or for luggage, as from the rough nature of
the ground the animals soon tire, and frequent changes are necessary.
A tent had also to be sought for and hired, and while this was being
found, and our ponies laden, and rugs and mackintoshes strapped on to
our riding steeds, we were told by our guide that at least two hours
must elapse before they would be ready for us to start, so we decided to
see what we could of the town meanwhile.
The principal buildings--none of which were of any architectural
beauty--were the Cathedral, the Senate House, the Hospital, and the
College.
I must not forget to mention the Gaol, the only one in the Island. It is
unlike any other I ever heard of, as it very rarely has an inmate!
Honesty amongst the people themselves is wonderful, and murder is almost
unknown.
Near the Cathedral, on a grassy space in the centre of the town, stood a
monument to Albert Thorwaldsen, the sculptor, who was of Icelandic
descent, although, I believe, claimed by Denmark, as one of her gifted
sons. Reykjavik also boasts a small Antiquarian Museum, which, strange
to say, is to be found in the Senate House, and for the size of the town
(4000 inhabitants) there is a good Free Library, in a loft under the
roof of the Cathedral.
We were pointed out a really interesting sight in the Cathedral-a rude
wooden crucifix, which had been discovered in a lava cave, and is
believed to be a Chaldean relic. There was also a collection of 13th
century ecclesiastical garments and enamelled crucifixes. In the
adjoining Museum we saw a number of weapons of war dating from the 4th
century, as well as rare old drinking-cups of walrus ivory, beautifully
carved, and some old-fashioned tapestry. Some of the old silver
ornaments were really quaint, and the carving on the flat-irons much
interested me, as I had never seen so many or such fine ones before.
In the library is the first Bible printed in Iceland, at Holar, in 1584;
also a very curious work on 'Magic;' two old versions of the New
Testament, dated 1540; whilst its shelves boasted quite a large
collection of modern works on all subjects.
There are two small inns in the town, as well as a club house, post
office, and stores, besides a druggist, a photographer, and two or three
silversmiths. As to vehicles, there were none, and the silence of the
streets reminded one of Venice.
Tradition says that the town was founded in 877, by one 'Tugolfi,' a
Norse settler. The early Icelandic settlers are reputed to have had a
curious mode of determining the spot on which they should build their
homes. On approaching the coast, the head of a family threw overboard
the pillars on which the seat of honour in his former home had been
raised, and wherever these pillars floated ashore, there he believed the
gods of his ancestors wished him to erect his new dwelling-place.
Tugolfi's high seat pillars had drifted into 'Reykjavik Bay,'
consequently he there took up his abode, and thus laid the foundation of
the only prosperous town in Iceland.
Our time was too limited to visit many stores in Reykjavik in search of
curios, but being possessed with the idea that some good old silver
articles were to be obtained here, we tried our best to find them. But
the idea turned out to be an illusion, for after inquiring at three of
the shops, the only things we succeeded in finding were two silver
buckles, for which, after much bargaining, we paid 39s. each; certainly
not cheap, but they served us as mementoes of Reykjavik.
We had brought ashore a parcel of letters, which we carried to the post
office for despatch, but learnt that they would go no sooner than
ourselves in the _Camoens_. As there was a great possibility of our not
returning from our trip to the Geysers in time to catch the steamer, we
left our letters, in order that folks at home might receive some news of
us if we failed to reappear at the appointed time, and suggested therein
we might be detained. In such a case, we should have been obliged to
wait for a Danish boat, which would touch at the capital in about a
fortnight's time.
While we were gleaning this information, Vaughan had been asked by a
Scotchman (the husband of our ship's companion in the brown silk) to go
and see his son. He and the boy had ridden from Akureyri to Reykjavik,
while we steamed round the Island. The poor boy, while resting his pony
near the mud springs, had run off to see them nearer, when suddenly the
earth gave way, and one leg was in boiling mud to the knee, and the
other immersed above the ankle. Luckily his father was near, and
extricated him; but for that, and the fact of his wearing high riding
boots, he might have been burnt to death, or lamed for life--as it was,
the boiling mud had burnt the boots through before they could be pulled
off, and the knee above had been severely hurt. Nothing could be done
but ride on, and the brave little chap managed to stick on his pony,
although in awful pain, until he reached home a day and a half later.
My brother suggested all he could think of to alleviate his suffering,
and, when we returned from the Geysers, had the pleasure of finding his
little patient very much better, though likely to remain a cripple for a
considerable length of time.
At a bookseller's in Reykjavik, we procured an Icelandic translation of
an English book by one of our standard authors, selecting it from a
number of well-known works, such as Shakespear, Scott, Byron, Dean
Stanley, John Stuart Mill, George Eliot, etc., all of which stood in
long rows, translated into the Norse tongue. We also carried off a neat
little Icelandic newspaper, printed in the capital; but, unfortunately,
not one of our party could decipher its contents.
This little newspaper had been printed after our arrival in the
_Camoens_, and furnished the only news the Icelanders had of the outside
world since the advent of a Danish ship a fortnight previously. Iceland
has not yet been annexed by cable, and knows nothing of the marvellous
scientific invention which now flashes news so quickly round our world.
The hour was now approaching when our caravan was to make its start for
the Geysers, so we returned to the town. Here the landlord's daughter,
at our request, exhibited herself in her _fête_ attire, in which she
made a quaint and pretty picture. The dress consisted of a
thickly-pleated black silk skirt, very full and somewhat short,
embroidered round the bottom with a deep band of gold thread; a black
bodice, also similarly embroidered with gold down the front and round
the collar; a handsome necklet and girdle of silver gilt, and a high
head-dress of white muslin, in appearance resembling a Normandy cap.
This, she told us, she always wore on Sundays and great occasions,
dressing like an Englishwoman on week days.
We found our ponies all in readiness at the appointed hour, and our
excitement may be imagined when we caught sight of our cavalcade, with
its appendages, drawn up in order before the so-called hotel, for our
former excursions were as nothing compared to the undertaking which now
lay before us, and we realised that all our energy would be required for
the enterprise.
Behold our party, then. Two ladies and three gentlemen; two guides, one
being employed as pony-driver; seven ponies for riding, and seven for
changing on the road; three pack ponies, two laden with our luggage, and
one with tents; and three unladen ponies for exchange weights: twenty
in all, a goodly company of quadrupeds, well selected and sure-footed.
The ponies, too, besides being picked ones for the work, were well
'trapped,' and newly shod, with the saddles, girths, straps, and buckles
all in order. So at least 'Zoega' told us, with an assurance that we
might depend on his forethought, adding that if we ladies could really
accomplish the 160 miles' ride in three and a half days, his ponies
should not be found lacking, but he had never yet known any lady do it
under five, and he did not think we knew what rough riding lay before
us. Miss T---- and myself, not daunted by the difficulties presented,
made up our minds, if possible, to compass the ride, see the 'Geysers,'
and be back at Reykjavik in time to catch the steamer, for we had no
mind to be left in Iceland another fortnight; so we laughingly told
Zoega we would show him what English ladies could do in the way of
riding, and he might expect to see us back on the appointed day.
Up we all mounted, to the amusement of the crowd, which had collected
round the cavalcade. The words, 'Are you ready?' were quickly answered
by 'Yes;' but when one of the bye-standers saw we ladies were furnished
only with men's saddles, there was quite a commotion. 'The ladies will
never be able to ride all that way in that fashion; only native women
can ride so, not real ladies,' and so terrible did they make out the
prospect of the road, that we were persuaded to take two wretchedly
uncomfortable side-saddles with us as far as Thingvalla, which we never
used, far preferring our own arrangement.
That start from Reykjavik was a memorable one. It was a glorious
morning, the outcome of a splendid sunset the previous night, and the
air so genial and warm that for the first time since we set foot on the
Island we dispensed with our furs.
A picturesque party we made as we rode on our way towards Thingvalla, a
stretch of seven hours' hard riding, one of the guides and Vaughan
driving before them the thirteen loose ponies. These were not attached
to each other, but followed the leader, and went very well, only now and
then one or two strayed from the path, when down jumped the guide, ran
after them, and with a curious shriek brought them back in line. Our
guides were most dexterous riders, and proved also most kind and
attentive. Their names were Signithur Sigurthsen and Jon Eriksen. We had
been cautioned that if treated with hauteur the guides often became
sullen, whilst kindness ensured their devotion and courtesy, and as we
never tried the former tone, we were capital friends with them.
The guide-books had led us to believe that after we had left Reykjavik a
mile or so we should find no roads whatever. This is strictly true, as
there are no made roads, but here and there we came across long
stretches of level land and peat, where we could get really a good
gallop, whilst on the other hand there were many parts of our route
where no beast could go faster than a walk, and others which only a mule
or an Icelandic pony could compass.
A road or bridle path is being constructed between Akureyri and
Reykjavik, and some 20 miles is already roughly made, although it will
probably take years to complete.
Herr Zoega had certainly been as good as his word, and supplied us with
excellent ponies, some of which excelled in trotting, some in cantering,
and others in pacing, but the latter motion was very trying, and I
always objected to mounting those which had been trained to pace.
The Icelandic fashion of making the pony go fast is to kick its side
incessantly with the legs, which a native does for hours together, and
so accustomed is the pony to this 'clapping,' that he slackens his pace
as soon as it ceases.
The scenery along our route was in many parts very fine and wild in the
extreme, huge boulders of lava and rock intersecting our path, and
standing like massive ruins on either side, the lava having evidently
cooled down in an almost liquid state, and presenting a most uncanny
appearance.
Professor Geikie, speaking of the Icelandic volcanoes, says,--
'On several occasions the ashes have fallen so thickly between the
Orkneys and Shetlands that vessels passing there have had the unwonted
deposit shovelled off their decks in the mornings. In the year 1783,
during the memorable eruption of Skaptar-Jökull (80 miles east of
Hecla), so vast an amount of fine dust was ejected, that the atmosphere
over Iceland continued loaded with it for months afterwards. It fell in
such quantities over parts of Caithness--a distance of 600 miles--as to
destroy the crops. That year is still spoken of by the inhabitants as
the year of "the ashie." Traces of the same deposit have been observed
in Norway, and even as far as Holland.' ...
The most stupendous outpouring of lava on record was that which took
place from the Skaptar-Jökull.
'Preceded by violent earthquakes all along the southern coast, it burst
out with great fury, drying up the river in twenty-four hours, and
filling its bed. The lava in some places was 600 feet deep and 200 wide,
flowing like a mighty river towards the sea, wrapping whole districts in
flames, re-melting old lavas, opening subterranean caverns, one of its
streams reaching the ocean. It was in full activity for two and a half
months, and did not entirely cease for six months.
'It took the lava more than two years to cool. One stream was 50 miles
long, 12 to 15 broad on the plain, and from 1 to 600 feet deep; another
was 40 miles long, and 7 wide. Pasture lands 100 miles around were
destroyed by the pumice sand and ashes. The matter ejected has been
estimated as twice the volume of Mount Hecla, or one hundred thousand
millions cubic yards, probably as large as any single mass of the older
igneous rocks known to exist--according to Bischoff, greater than the
bulk of Mount Blanc.
'Man, his cattle, houses, churches and grass lands were burnt up,
noxious vapours filled the air, and the earth was shrouded by clouds of
ashes.' ...
A few instances of the actual outbreak of a submarine eruption have been
witnessed. In the early summer of 1783 a volcanic eruption took place
about 30 miles from Cape Reykjanaes, on the west coast. An island was
thrown up from which fire and smoke continued to issue, but in less than
a year the waves had washed the loose pumice away, leaving a submerged
reef from 5 to 30 fathoms below sea level. About a month later followed
the frightful outbreak of Skaptar-Jökull, a distance of nearly 200 miles
from this submarine vent.
The bluest of skies was above our heads, and the atmosphere so clear we
could see objects many miles distant, among them 'Hecla,' whose snowy
cap glistened like silver in the sun.
The air was so pure and invigorating, that it acted like champagne on
all our party, and we were in the highest spirits. About every two hours
we halted and gave our ponies a brief rest, letting them nibble the
short grass near, when any such was to be found, then changing our
saddles to the backs of the reserve animals we started afresh, the wild
mountain paths becoming steeper and rougher as we advanced.
We had only passed two farms on our way, and our guide informing us
there was not another for many miles, feeling very hungry after our long
morning's ride, we dismounted by the side of a babbling brook for lunch,
and did full justice to the ham and tinned beef we had brought from
London with us. While eating our meal, our twenty ponies were allowed to
wander at will with the reins thrown over their heads, and had there
been any passers-by we might have been taken for a gipsy encampment.
Luncheon over, everything had to be washed, and securely packed, but
despite all our previous care we found some of our china had been sorely
smashed, and the biscuits shaken to perfect powder.
Our guides shared our repast, respectfully taking their seats at a
little distance from us, and their delight at tasting our tinned beef
and mustard entertained us greatly. The latter stung poor Jon's mouth
till the tears ran down his cheeks, but, nothing daunted, he persevered
in taking the condiment, till he grew so fond of it as to ask for it
with every kind of food, even spreading it on an Albert biscuit.
Hitherto our path had wound over a range of hills amid which we saw
several small lakes, and the view looking westward towards 'Snaefell
Jökull,' which rises like a pyramid of ice from the sea, was charming.
Our lunch had been taken in the valley of the 'Seljadalr,' and now once
more in our saddles, we followed a bridle-path upwards towards the
plateau of 'Mosfellshei,' passing through a wild rocky glen of great
natural beauty. The 'Mosfellshei' is a long, stony, dreary waste,
several miles in length, so wild and rough as to render riding no easy
task, the path leading through dreary tracks of lava, over which the
ponies stepped with cat-like agility, hardly if ever stumbling, and
going up and down hill as easily as on level ground. After two hours or
more of this rough riding, suddenly, at a bend of the hill, we came upon
our first view of Thingvalla Lake, and were charmed with it and the
surrounding country. It was like going out of a desert into fairyland.
The lake, which is 45 miles long, and of a deep cobalt blue, can be seen
only in part, as the hills around project to such an extent as to
apparently divide the water into a series of lakes, instead of one broad
expanse. It was a glorious day with a bright warm sun, and a clear blue
sky, and everything around looked fair and peaceful. We were so
delighted with the spot, that we stopped to make sketches, allowing the
pack ponies to get ahead of us.
Not long after remounting and calmly jogging on our way, we suddenly
came upon the verge of a tremendous chasm, which, opening at our feet,
divided the barren ground on which we stood, from a lovely sunlit plain
of many miles in extent. Winding our way down, we entered the Almannagya
by a narrow fissure. The path leads for nearly a mile, the rocks rising
as perpendicular walls on either side from 80 to 100 feet; so narrow was
it in some places that there was little more than room for the path. In
other places where it widened, patches of snow still remained.
Here was indeed a halting-place full of interest, and we accordingly
dismounted, and prepared to spend some time in lionising a spot so
replete with historic records.
Running parallel were two or three such chasms, of minor magnitude, over
the less steep parts of which we managed to scramble, before remounting
our ponies, which it was necessary to do, although Thingvalla Farm lay
but a few yards distant, because of the intervening river, which we had
to ford.