THINGVALLA.
Independently of the beauty and natural curiosities of the spot,
Thingvalla is so associated with the early history of the Norse people,
its government and its laws, that it deserves a longer notice here than
has been given to any other of our halting-places.
We had descended into the 'Almannagja' by a steep rocky causeway made
between cloven rocks, and reached the narrow islet where, in times gone
by, when feudal despotism was the only government acknowledged, the
chiefs of the Island met to regulate the affairs of state. Whenever it
might have been that the volcanic eruption which had shivered the rocks
into their present fissured condition had occurred, it had left this
spot so surrounded by deep crevices as to render it impregnable, save by
the rude causeway which connected it with the exterior level. This plain
was, as already recorded, chosen by the founders of the first Icelandic
parliament for their sittings. At the upper end of the plain, we were
shown the stone seats which the principal legislators and judges
occupied during their deliberations. Not far from here lies also the
'Logberg,' or 'law rock,' a large mound from whence the laws were
proclaimed or judgments given to the people who assembled on the outside
slope of the eastern wall of the rift, in view of the proceedings below.
Our notice was likewise directed to the 'blood stone,' on which, for
certain offences, the criminals were condemned to have their backs
broken, after which barbarous punishment they were hurled backwards, and
fell into the chasm below.
In Lord Dufferin's 'Letters from High Latitudes,' he thus describes this
spot:--
'Long ago--who shall say how long--some vast commotion had shaken the
foundations of the Island, and bubbling up from sources far away amid
the inland hills, a fiery deluge must have rushed down between their
ridges, until, escaping from the narrower gorges, it found space to
spread itself into one broad sheet of molten stone over an entire
district of country, reducing its varied surface to one vast blackened
level.
'One of two things must then have occurred, either the vitrified mass,
contracting as it cooled--the centre area of fifty square miles must
have burst asunder at either side from the adjoining plateau, and sunk
down to its present level--leaving the two parallel gorges, or chasms,
which form its lateral boundaries, to mark the limits of the disruption;
or else, while the lava was still in a fluid state, its upper surface
became solid, and formed a roof beneath, while the mother stream
flowing on to lower levels, left a vast cavern into which the upper
crust subsequently plumped down "and formed this level plain."'
For three hundred years did the little republic of Iceland hold their
parliaments within this romantic precinct, three hundred years of
remarkable independence, but during which period Paganism and spiritual
darkness prevailed throughout the Island. In the organisation of the
first 'Althing,' priestly power predominated, no less than thirty-nine
priests having seats. During the early settlement of Iceland, the land
was divided into four quarters, each quarter sending its quota of
priests to parliament, while each priest thus nominated a member of the
Althing, was accompanied by two retainers, or assessors, as they were
termed. Inclusive of the President, the Log-men, and its numerous
sacerdotal representatives, the members of the Althing are said to have
numbered 145 persons.
As we stood by these time-honoured rocks, where in long ages past
ancient Norse chieftains had promulgated their laws, we tried to conjure
up the scene,--the rocky entrance to this weird spot, guarded by
stalwart Norsemen, the stern senators and law-makers sitting in deep
thought, or occupied in stormy debate, while the crowd of interested
spectators looked down from the stony platform above. We wondered that
although these grand old times of feudalism had passed away, no
enterprising artist had been found to transfer to canvas an historic
record of such deep interest, and thus make the scene live again in
modern times.
It was in the year 1000, on the 4th of June, that Iceland abandoned
Paganism, and accepted Christianity. This great change was principally
brought about through the instrumentality of a Pagan priest named
Snorri, who, while travelling in Christian lands, had been converted,
and on his return had pressed his new convictions on the people of
Iceland. Many of these accepting his tenets caused quite a division in
the Island, and the Althing was summoned to take into consideration the
new views which had been introduced.
Snorri was invited to address the assembly, and explain the principles
of his new-found faith. The members of the Althing listened with great
attention, evidently much impressed with what they heard, for Snorri
spoke with the enthusiastic zeal of a fresh convert.
There were not wanting, however, those among the representatives who
resented the introduction into the Island of this new belief, hence the
debate, so records the 'Njol-Saga,' waxed warm, when a messenger rushed
in and disturbed the council by the alarming news that a stream of lava
had burst out at Olfas, and that the priest's dwelling would soon be
overrun. On this one of the heathen opponents to Christianity remarked,
'No wonder the gods exhibit their wrath, when such speeches as we have
just heard against their power have been permitted.' On this Snorri with
great dignity rose up, saying, as he pointed to the riven rocks and
deep fissures around them, 'At what then were the gods wroth when this
lava was molten and overran the whole district upon which we now stand?'
To this speech there was no reply, for all well knew that the plain was
one of the most remarkable lava tracks in the Island.
It is presumed that Snorri's remark told, and his persuasive eloquence
won the day, for shortly after, the Icelanders in a body accepted
Christianity as their national faith, and this apparently without either
bloodshed or quarrelling.
In the 'Saga' mention is made of many remarkable sittings and debates
which took place within the Althing, some of which ended in such
animosity between individual members as to be the cause of party feuds
and bloodshed.
In connection with the deep rifts which encompass the Althing, a
romantic story is told. A Norseman called Flossi, a leader of some
conspiracy in the Island, was condemned to death; he evaded this
sentence by taking a leap from the blood stone, on which he stood,
across the adjoining rift, a feat neither his accusers nor condemners
were likely to imitate, and one inspired only by his extreme peril.
In 1800 the Althing was abolished, Iceland having fallen under Danish
government; it was re-established again in 1843, but only in a very
restricted form, its legislation being cramped in every way by Danish
supremacy. In 1845 the romantic precinct where the Icelanders held
their parliament was abandoned, and the legislative body was removed to
the capital of Reykjavik.
In the 'National Encyclopædia,' we found the following note in reference
to the new constitution granted to the Icelanders,--
'In 1874, on the occasion of the millennial jubilee of the Island's
colonisation, the King of Denmark visited Iceland, and conferred upon
his subjects there a new and very liberal constitution, most of its
articles being moulded upon the Danish charter of 1849. It conceded to
Iceland, in all matters concerning the Island, its own independent
legislation and administration, superintended by an assembly, the new
Althing consisting of thirty-six members--thirty elected by popular
suffrage, and six nominated by the King. It put at the head of the
country's affairs a minister named by the King, and residing in
Copenhagen, but responsible to the Althing, and exercising his functions
through a local governor residing at Reykjavik. It also fully guaranteed
the independence of the tribunals, individual freedom, liberty of faith,
of the press, of public meetings, the individuality of property, the
self-government of principalities, and the equality of all citizens
before the law.'
As will clearly be seen, this is a case of Home Rule, though the
Icelanders are still in a measure under the Danish Government;
apparently much the same kind of legislature as Mr Gladstone is so
anxious to confer upon Ireland. The present Althing or Parliament has
two Houses--an Upper and Lower House; there are twelve members in the
former, and twenty-four in the latter. They must all be Icelanders, and
usually they sit for about six years. We peeped into the Parliament
House during the short time we were in Reykjavik; it was then sitting,
but much as I should like to have remained and listened to the
proceedings, the odours in the gallery in which we were placed forbade
it. The impression it made upon me was that it resembled a small English
law-court, the governor sitting in uniform at the head of the Council.
Certainly the ancient mode of transacting affairs of state was a far
more interesting one, and the precincts of its primitive Parliament
House and law-courts were unrivalled in their rocky architecture and
romantic scenery.
Not far from the Almannagya is a very picturesque fall, formed by the
waters of the 'Oxara,' which leap in a single bound from an elevation
west of the 'Thingfields,' or 'speaking-place' into the 'Almannagya,'
flowing through a gap in the rocks, and again leaping into the plain
below, forming a large pool.
In this pool it is said in olden times women convicted of witchcraft or
infanticide used to be drowned.
Altogether the halt we made at the Thingfields interested us deeply, and
the landscape was charming in the extreme. High mountains guard three
sides of the plain; among these we had pointed out to us the 'Sular
Range,' the dark peaks of the 'Armammsfell,' and the lower ridge of the
'Jornkliff,' below, on the north-east of the snow-capped 'Skjaldbreid,'
and the peaks of 'Tindjjalla-jökull' with the more distant 'Langjökull'
sparkling like silver. South-west of the lake there is another group of
mountains seen, from one of which--Hengill--a cloud of steam ascends, it
being evidently volcanic. Among the rocks of the 'Almannagya' we saw
some pretty mountain sheep grazing, the only sign of life in this wild
region. The Icelandic sheep are very small, and we noticed often wander
in pairs, one black and one white: they mostly have horns; the wool of
the white sheep is spotless. There are plenty of sheep in the Island,
and it is for them as much as the ponies that the grass is cut, dried,
and stacked under such woeful disadvantages and in such a marvellously
painstaking manner.
Leaving the rift, and crossing over a small river, we arrived at the
door of Thingvalla Parsonage. Here it was arranged we were to pass the
night. The farms and inns are so few and far between in Iceland, that
the parsonages are thrown open for the accommodation of travellers.
Formerly the wooden benches of the Thingvalla Church itself used to be
converted into sleeping-berths; travellers, however, behaved so
indecorously within the sacred walls, that the Bishop forbade the
further use of the edifice for this purpose. The church, a simple wooden
building, is surrounded by a graveyard, a few iron crosses marking some
of the graves. The pulpit dates from 1683, and there is an ancient
altar-piece of the Last Supper. The so-called village of Thingvalla
consists merely of the church, the parsonage, and a few outhouses for
storing winter supplies. When we arrived at the parsonage, we learnt
that the clergyman was absent,--further, that a party of travellers from
our ship had arrived a few hours before us, and had engaged rooms, the
only remaining accommodation being two very small bedrooms, and one
sitting-room. To Miss T. and myself was assigned the clergyman's own
bedroom. This contained the smallest bed I have ever seen, and having to
be made available for two persons, we did not pass a very comfortable
night. The only luxury in the room was a well-stored bookcase containing
many standard works in various languages. Our three gentlemen occupied
the remaining bed and sitting-room.
[Illustration: THINGVALLA PARSONAGE, ICELAND, AUG. 14, 1886. _Etched by
F. P. Fellows, from a sketch by the Author, 1888._ _Page 114._]
We ascertained that the party who had preceded us consisted of seven
men, who having only one bedroom and a small sitting-room, had most of
them to sleep on the floor rolled up in their rugs. These men it
appeared were not accustomed to the saddle, and having ridden forty
miles on the day they arrived at the parsonage, found themselves so
stiff on the morrow as to be barely able to continue their journey;
indeed, two of their party gave in, and never reached the 'Geysers' at
all.
Among the ancient curios of the Thingvalla Parsonage was an old
grinding-machine, such as one reads of in the Bible; at this a girl sat
turning its stone wheel with her hand, whilst the corn thus converted
into flour fell into a receptacle below. In all the domestic
arrangements Icelanders are very primitive, but this operation was, I
think, about the most so of any I witnessed. A large jar containing rice
attracted my attention, and curiously enough the rice was not to eat but
to make poultices of, instead of linseed. We found the commissariat at
the parsonage at a very low ebb; in fact, nothing but coffee and skyr
were procurable; and but for our provision of tinned meats we should
have fared badly.
We could not even procure white bread, simply the black 'pumpernickel'
bread so much prized in Germany. Vaughan persuaded a man to go to the
lake and secure us some fish for the next morning's breakfast; this he
did, and returned with some excellent pink trout, and yellow char, which
we much enjoyed.
No one at Thingvalla Parsonage could speak English, and we had great
difficulty in making ourselves understood; our guides, however, waited
upon us as servants, and were very handy. After breakfast, we remounted
and set out on our way to the Geysers, where we hoped to strike our camp
that night. Our guide-books had led us to expect that the scenery of
this ride would surpass all we had yet seen, and we certainly found it
did so. Within an hour's ride of Thingvalla we reached the Hrafragja,
another lava plain, though not so wide or long as the Almannagya, but
which is crossed by an improvised road formed of blocks of lava. Our
path led us past an extinct crater, which, from the curious form and
emissions, had long puzzled geologists: it was called a Tintron.
[Illustration: PONIES SWIMMING ACROSS LAKE.]
This lava spout resembled the trunk of an old tree, and during an
eruption the liquid flame soared through it high into the air, like
water does from a hose or fire-engine. This curious volcanic spout is
not the only one in the Island; further north there are several, some
reaching as much as 30 feet in height. One curious thing in our 80
miles' journey to the Geysers was the number of rivers we crossed,
seldom very deep, but some sufficiently so to necessitate lifting our
feet from the stirrups, and laying them on the pony's back as high as
possible to avoid a wetting.
One of the rivers had so many turns that we crossed and recrossed it
about twenty times. The low-lying land around being all bog, it was
necessary to keep our ponies to the comparatively firm shingle on the
river side.
An abrupt ascent, long and steep, formed a pleasant change to the
monotony of the rugged plain. Up this 'berg' our ponies wound their way
zigzag between the rough boulders of rock which strewed the path. At the
top we met several men with their train of ponies, waiting for us to
pass them, the path being only wide enough for single file. Here we
waited to give the ponies breath, and admired the view, which was
wonderfully extensive. The road up looked like a ladder, so steep was
it, and we wondered how the ponies could have climbed it at all.
The Icelanders are a very polite race; nearly every man you meet takes
off his cap and salutes you. When meeting friends, they pull off their
right hand glove and shake hands heartily. In Iceland, as elsewhere on
the Continent, they also pass on the left side; indeed, I believe we
English are the only nation who pass on the near side or right hand.
We halted for luncheon at a small cave, just such a place as one might
expect to find Runic remains, but there were none, so we contented
ourselves with eating chocolate, and letting the ponies enjoy a little
grass. This cave, like many others in the Island, was used in winter as
a sheep pen, the poor brutes being huddled together to prevent their
being frozen to death during the long winter nights.
From here we galloped merrily on for some distance; at last we called
each other's attention to an extraordinary yellow haze, like a band of
London fog, across the horizon. Thicker and thicker it became: and as it
rolled towards us, we realised we had encountered a regular dust-storm.
Into it we rode: so thick in fact did it become, that by the time we
reached the Geysers all around was hidden in yellow sand, and our eyes
were filled with dust, until the tears streamed down and we were nearly
blinded. It whirled round and round in its storm fury, until we were
half-choked, two of our party getting very bad sore throats, produced by
the irritation of the dust, as it filled eyes, nose, and mouth. It
powdered our hair also to a yellow grey, but our faces, what a sight
they were! The tears had run down, making little streams amid the dust,
and certainly we were hardly recognisable to one another. These
dust-storms are somewhat uncommon, but proceed, in certain winds, from a
large sand desert.
We pulled up at some hot springs within a few feet of the lake, which
were smoking and steaming to the height of several feet, and falling
down again formed numerous boiling pools. In these we put our fingers,
but pulled them out quickly. Next we inserted the handles of our
riding-whips: the brass bands round them turning mauve and violet from
the sulphur and alum in the water; but this pretty effect soon wore off.
The colour of the water and deposit round the edges of this pool were
very pretty, and the bubbles as they ascended took the most lovely
colours--emerald, purple, etc., turning into aqua-marine before breaking
on the surface; but the odour was like terribly bad eggs. These hot
springs are a curious freak of Nature, boiling and bubbling up within
three feet of a cold water lake; in fact, we sat down and placed one
hand in cold water and the other in hot. This was a very curious
experience.
Two hours' further riding through a tract covered with willow and birch
scrub, and we arrived at the 'Bruara' river. When this river is low, it
can be crossed by a rudely-constructed bridge, with strong iron-clamped
hand-rails on either side; but during floods it is impassable, as
several feet above the waters form a roaring cataract, when travellers
have to be ferried across, at a higher point.
On we rode still through the dust-storm, over lava fields, rugged and
rough in the extreme, and most weird-looking from their blackness. We
passed several paths which our guide told us led into the interior of
the Island, where there are still large unexplored tracts, lying at the
base of a range of high snow mountains, called 'Jökull,' most of them
supposed to be volcanic, but of which little is really known.
We were all getting very tired as we neared the end of our second day's
ride; tired and dirty, for the sand-storm still continued. Fresh impetus
was given to our ride, however, by overtaking one of the miserable party
of five who had preceded us by two hours from Thingvalla. He was walking
dejectedly beside his pony, too great a sufferer from inexperienced
riding to remount.
Being inspired with ambition to be first in the field, we galloped past
him and his companions one by one, and A. L. T. and I had the excitement
of finishing our race to the Geysers.