CHAPTER XIII.

A GREENLAND PARLIAMENT.

The condition of the Esquimaux has not only improved spiritually

since they arrived in Greenland, but they have improved in their

temporal affairs as well. Formerly they led a purely nomadic life,

and dressed solely in the skins of wild beasts; now they live in

permanent communities, and have adopted the habits and, in some

measure, the costume of civilized men. Unlike many savage peoples,

the introduction of the forms of civilization among them has not been

attended with any corresponding mischief; a circumstance due, in a

great measure, if not wholly, to the paternal care of the Danish

Government, aided by the missionaries. That care, beginning with the

missionary, Hans Egede, has been continued with much skill by his

successors, and by none more conspicuously than Dr. H. J. Rink, who

has passed a considerable portion of his life in the country, and

was, until lately, Royal Inspector for the Southern Districts.

The principal feature of Dr. Rink’s administration is the Parliament

of natives; and in the establishment of this arrangement Dr. Rink

has earned as much credit for skilled benevolence as he had before

acquired for scientific explorations; and his efforts are entitled to

the highest encomiums.

The civil organization of Greenland is very simple. The six northern

districts constitute the Northern Inspectorate, the inspector’s

residence being at Godhavn; the six southern constitute the Southern

Inspectorate, with the inspector’s residence at Godthaab. Each

inspector’s authority is absolute throughout his jurisdiction,

and there is no appeal, except to the home government, against his

decisions and decrees; but each district within the Inspectorate

has certain privileges of its own, granted by the royal will. These

privileges are exercised by the Parliament, which is based upon the

principle that every native is a subject of Denmark, and amenable to

Danish law. Happily, in the administration of that law the people

themselves are not denied a voice.

The idea of a Greenland Parliament struck me as something ludicrous

when I first heard of it; but upon gaining an intimate acquaintance

with its workings, I changed my mind, and became convinced that if

all Parliaments did their work only half as well, the world would be

better governed.

The population of Greenland at the present time equals about 7000

souls—an average to each of the twelve districts of near 600. In the

district of Julianashaab there are about 800 people, distributed,

along the line of its extended coast of a hundred and fifty miles,

in a number of small settlements, all pitched either upon the shore

of the main-land or some outlying island (it must be borne in mind

that the interior is nowhere inhabitable), at some point where there

is a convenient harbor. These are all outposts of the capital town

of Julianashaab, and their affairs are regulated according to orders

received from the governor, or bestyrere, of Julianashaab. Each one

is presided over by a Dane or half-breed, whose principal business is

to keep the Company’s accounts, dispose of the Company’s stores, and

to gather products for the Company’s profit. The stores are brought

annually by ship to Julianashaab, and thence they are distributed to

the various outposts, and, in like manner, the products are gathered

at Julianashaab by the time the ship arrives. These products consist

of stock fish (the cod, dried without salt), eider-down, furs,

seal-skins, and blubber, of which the latter furnishes the chief

profit.

The Greenlanders, and not the Danes, do the principal hunting and

fishing. The store-house of the station is the place of trade, and at

certain hours of the day the bestyrere is obliged to have his place

of business open.

Now these Greenlanders, or Esquimaux, are not prone to be governed;

yet the Danish rule is satisfactory to them, and they submit to it

without a murmur, and none the less readily that they have a voice in

their own affairs. Each little town or hunting-station is at liberty

to send up a representative to sit in the Parliament of Julianashaab.

The number of representatives is twelve. The names of the most

important towns besides the capital are Nenortalik, Fredericksdal,

Lichtenau (these two latter are missions of the Moravian Brethren),

Igalliko, and Kraksimeut.

The Parliament-house is not an imposing edifice. I should say its

dimensions are about sixteen by twenty feet. It is one story high,

is built of boards, lined on the inside, and painted blue, and on

the outside is plastered over with pitch. It has no lobby for the

accommodation of people who come to the capital with axes for the

public grindstone, nor committee-rooms for the better confusion of

the public business.

In the centre of the one room there stands a long table of plain

pine boards, and along either side there is one long bench of

the same material; and on each bench sit six Parliamentarians,

dressed in seal-skin pantaloons and boots, and Guernsey frocks,

with broad suspenders across their shoulders. The faces of these

Parliamentarians are all of a very dusky hue, the color of their

hair is very black, and it does not seem to have any greater

familiarity with combs and brushes than their faces with soap and

towels. However, they are an amiable-looking party—at least they grin

and show their fine white teeth when I enter, and are altogether,

perhaps, quite clean enough for ordinary Parliamentary work. Every

man of them has a pencil in his hand and a piece of paper on the

table before him, and each one is as busy taking notes thereon as

some of our own honorable members are said to be in taking “notes” of

another description.

[Illustration: A GREENLAND PARLIAMENT IN SESSION.]

But I must not neglect to mention one article of the Parliamentary

costume, for it shines out so conspicuously that it _must_ be

noticed—I mean the official cap (always worn when the House is in

session), which is supplied to each member by royal bounty. This cap

is of the brightest kind of scarlet cloth, with a broad gilt band

around it; the royal emblems are emblazoned in front, and above these

there is a golden polar bear, with a crown on his head, standing

uncomfortably on his hind legs, to typify Greenland. There is a

thirteenth cap at the head of the table, and this thirteenth cap

covers the head of the genial Mr. Anthon, pastor of Julianashaab, and

president of the Julianashaab Parliament, _ex officio_.

The aggregate amount of dignity possessed by this Parliament was

quite wonderful, and was, in truth, as overwhelming as the fishy

odor with which it was impregnated. But neither the fishy odor nor

the dignity appeared to interfere with the transaction of business;

on the contrary, they seemed to be working away like beavers, and,

indeed, they disposed of matters with such an amazing degree of

promptness, that I fell instantly to wondering whether dignity would

not be a good thing to introduce into Parliaments, Congresses,

Assemblies, and such like things generally; and as to the fishy

atmosphere, I have no doubt that it was quite as wholesome as the

atmosphere of some of our own legislative halls, where lobbyists are

so thick about the doors and avenues, that all the purity which ever

does go in is soon done for. Of the kind of business brought before

this dignified tribunal, I will give a few samples.

The first was a petition for relief. The petitioner himself stood

there in person, looking the very picture of forlorn destitution. He

stated that he had lost his canoe (_kayak_), and he produced evidence

enough to show, without any swearing, false or otherwise, that it had

been crushed and lost in the ice. The man, who had hardly clothes on

his back to cover his nakedness, showed further that he had a wife

and family, who had no friends to assist them, and were entirely

dependent upon himself for support. I thought it a doubtful support

at best, and so appeared to think the Parliament, since they voted

an order for a small stipend of food and clothing, as per schedule,

to be drawn by the wife from the public store-house, and paid for

out of the Parliamentary funds. The man was sent to work in the

Government blubber-house, at twenty-two skillings (eleven cents) a

day.

The next case was similar in character, only the petitioner was a

well-known young hunter who had lost his kayak by a fearful accident,

which had nearly cost him his life as well as boat, and from the

effects of which he had barely now recovered. All that I could

comprehend was that some of his ribs had been stove in. The case

being proven, the question before Parliament was whether they should

grant him relief, which was unanimously voted in the affirmative. How

much? was the next question. After thirteen pencils had ciphered for

a minute or so, they made it out fourteen dollars (seven American)

for material for the kayak, four dollars for harpoon, spear, etc.,

and six to pay debts contracted at the Government store-house for

necessary comforts during his sickness.

A third case was that of an old man who received one dollar to buy a

spear with; another was from a man who had a family of girls, and no

oomiak. He received twenty-four dollars, one-half of which he was to

refund within two years. One hunter got a rifle on the same terms. A

sick woman obtained some flannel for a shirt; some orphan children,

an order for bread; a widow, the means to bury her dead husband.

These, and a number more of similar character, were soon disposed of.

Some of the cases were represented by proxy, the applicant residing

at Nenortalik or other distant outpost, whence to come would be

difficult; others presented their petitions in person. Some appeals

were thrown out in part, or altogether; but these were very few, for

public opinion is strong in Greenland, and a lofty sense of pride

prevents begging, except in the last extremity. In the case, however,

of the kayak and the oomiak there was presented a prospect of future

public advantage; for, in encouraging these people by providing them

with boats, the public revenues are increased by their adding to the

public industry. Thus do we see that as “village Hampdens” and “mute,

inglorious Miltons” may sometimes lie in the village church-yard, so

savage legislators and lawgivers may be Solons and Adam Smiths all in

one, and they not know any thing about it, and the world be none the

wiser.

And thus we see these Greenland Parliaments serve an excellent

purpose. They take care of the poor; they render assistance to the

unfortunate; they provide certain means of punishing the indolent

and guilty; they reward the industrious; and when they have finished

with their business, they adjourn, and go home to do their talking;

and what more do you want with a Parliament? Nobody, certainly, would

desire them to vote away millions of acres of the public lands; for,

although they might very well do so without injury to any body, there

are no dangerous corporations to be benefited thereby, and no public

interests to be sacrificed by such procedure, and therefore no motive.

I was much interested in their manner of encouraging industry. The

system is regulated on an increased valuation of all products of the

hunt and fishery brought to the public store-house after a certain

figure has been reached. Then follows a sliding scale of prices,

which at the maximum is double the ordinary standard.

The punishments are confined to fines, to be deducted at a certain

percentage, until paid, from every thing the hunter sells to the

Government; and the means of collection are quite effectual; for,

unless the criminal comes into the arrangements of his plan as

decreed by Parliament, he is wholly excluded from any participation

in the benefits of the colony; that is to say, he is not allowed

to buy or trade for any thing—neither a rifle, ammunition, bread,

coffee, sugar, nor tobacco—a penalty against which no one was ever

known to hold out long. Cases of actual crime are rare. If the

offense should be a capital one, or one involving the sentence of a

court of justice, the offender, or supposed offender, is sent home

for trial to Denmark. But one case falling under this head came to

my knowledge. This was a young mother suspected of infanticide.

The child that would have dishonored her was found upon a rock

whence the tide would soon have carried it off, had not some prying

individual there discovered it and taken it to the village, where it

was interred. The young woman was charged with having destroyed it.

She confessed that it was hers, but that it was dead when born; and

since she could not bury it, and could not bear to throw it into the

sea herself, she placed it on the rock and hid herself away, that

she might not see it disappear. Her story was accepted on the simple

ground of the unnaturalness of the crime charged; for the love of

the mother for her offspring among these Greenlanders is wonderfully

strong. What would our ancestors of a few hundred years back have

said to being hauled up for an act like this, when they had not only

natural law, as they thought, but human law as well, to support them

in “exposure of infants,” when they were either too poor or too lazy

to provide for all the little ones that were brought into the world?

The funds for the disbursements above mentioned are provided

liberally by the Danish Government—not directly, but indirectly—so

that the system works to mutual advantage. For instance, the price

paid, according to Government, at the public store-room for a

seal-skin is, say ten cents, and for the fox-skin fifty cents; which

amounts are paid, either in money or in kind, to the hunter, who

goes away well satisfied. To this payment the Government then adds

a further payment of twenty per cent.—that is, two cents on the

seal-skin and ten cents on the fox-skin, which is credited to the

Parliamentary account; and so on for every barrel of blubber or other

article. Thus, if the cost price of the products of the district of

Julianashaab should reach fifteen thousand dollars, the Parliament

would have a fund of three thousand to dispense in charities and

benefits. This sum bears no relation, however, to the commercial

value of the several articles in the Copenhagen market. For there

a fox-skin, which is worth in Greenland one Danish dollar (nearly

equalling our half-dollar), is worth in Copenhagen from ten to

thirty; and most of the other products swell in the same proportion

during the voyage across the Atlantic. So in like manner, though

not in the same degree, the value of a pound of bread increases on

the voyage from Copenhagen to Greenland. Yet such are the expenses

attendant upon the transportation, the keeping up of special

Greenland bureaus at home, the wear and tear of the sixteen ships

of their fleet, and the cost of the Mission, that, notwithstanding

this arrangement of values, the Royal Greenland Fishing and Trading

Company turns in a very small sum annually to the royal treasury.

Some years they actually run behind. And so it comes about that,

since there is not much in the best of times to be squeezed out of

this Land of Desolation, the Company simply suffers its business to

go on in the old even tenor of its ways—every thing systematic and

orderly, its ships neat and well disciplined, its officers honest and

capable, its sailors well drilled for any emergency that may call

them into the naval service, the mission schools and the churches

well kept up. If by this means a few officers are provided with small

but sufficient salaries, and a number of people are supplied with

comfortable livings (and are sure of a pension if disabled, and their

families provided for when they die), surely no great harm is done to

any body if the Danish Government is not greatly enriched; while, on

the other hand, seven thousand human beings, but for this admirable

system, instead of living in the light of Christian civilization, and

in the enjoyment of its benefits, would still be steeped in that same

condition of barbarism that their forefathers were when they overran

the fair villages of the ancient Northmen. To-day the two races live

in perfect harmony, and in mutual dependence on each other. A single

Dane may be surrounded by a hundred descendants of the murdering and

revengeful Krassippe, and is encouraged by them in every thing he may

attempt to do.

These all seem like homely practices; but then it must be borne in

mind that Greenland is a long way off, and the Danes are a gallant

people. I do not believe there is any other country in the world

that would maintain colonies and support missions without some

prospective advantage to themselves. There is one prohibitory act,

which the Company exercises in all these colonies, which I can not

refrain from mentioning before I quit this interesting subject. It

is the commendable policy which they pursue in absolutely excluding

that villainous “fire-water,” that has played such a conspicuous part

in the demoralization and destruction of our own Indians. Once a

year only are the people allowed to smile at the bottom of an empty

glass. This is on the king’s birthday, when every able-bodied man in

Greenland is allowed to march up to the Government store-room, there

to receive, each in his turn, a glass of “schnapps,” which he drains

to the health and happiness of the mighty _Nalegaksoak_ who occupies

the Danish throne. The women are excluded; but a man may kiss his

wife just when he pleases, without offense to any body; and, while in

the act, he may drop from his own capacious maw (like the cooing dove

that feeds its mate within the cot) whatever portion of the king’s

bounty he may feel inclined to spare, and nobody be any the wiser for

it; nor can any body be much hurt, as the schnapps glass is none of

the largest, and the wife’s portion is not likely to be more than the

half.

A system which is thus kept so well under control, with the niceties

of administration so carefully preserved, could hardly be otherwise

than successful. In fact, I do not see that any thing of human

devising could better suit the purpose of its founding than this

Greenland Company, which transacts business and does good works under

the name and title of “Kongelige Grönlandske Handel, i Kiöbenhavn.”

It was founded in the year 1781, much upon the same plan as that of

the Hudson Bay Company. The whole trade of Greenland is, through this

Company, an absolute monopoly of the Crown, and a foreigner is not

allowed to trade to the value of a skilling with Dane or Esquimaux—a

system which all the better enables the benevolent intentions of the

Government to be carried out, as spirits and other hurtful articles

can be excluded from the country. The Company is controlled by a

Directory in Copenhagen (Kiöbenhavn properly); and to its present

presiding officer, Herr Justitsraad C. S. M. Olrik, knight of

Dannebrog, and formerly the enlightened and genial Inspector of North

Greenland, the Company’s increasing prosperity and usefulness are

largely due.

The Land of Desolation: Being a Personal Narrative of Observation and Adventure in Greenland · 第 13 / 16 章