In the midst of a stormy sea, and under a sky rarely enlivened by
sun-shine, are situated the Feroe Islands. They are two-and-twenty in
number, lying between the latitudes of 61° 15′ and 62° 21′, and
extending altogether 61 miles in length from north to south, and 45 in
breadth from east to west. Nothing can well be more rugged and desolate
than their appearance. They consist of a crowded group of harsh steep
rocks, the bases of which are separated by narrow and shallow channels
of the sea, and whose sides, for the most part, are tremendous
precipices, from two to three hundred fathoms high--complete walls of
rock that strike the mariner with terror. Within these iron-bound coasts
there are no valleys of any extent; but a few narrow dales, broken and
craggy, are found between their summits, where the energies of man are
hardly taxed to win a scanty supply from the soil which never exceeds
four feet, and is frequently not more than eight inches in depth. This
soil, moreover, is often swept away by the winds of the north, that in a
moment can destroy the labour and improvement of years. These winds are
indeed tremendous; they descend from the lofty hills to the shore,
impelling large stones, and rolling them forward like balls; at times
even tearing the turf from the sides of the hills, rolling it together
like a sheet of lead, and precipitating it into the valleys. To hinder
the roofs of their houses from being blown away, the poor Feroese are
obliged to place boards upon them, and to throw ropes over them, the
ends of which are fastened to heavy stones. Another dreadful enemy they
have to contend with, is the voracious rat. These animals are so
numerous, that they will sometimes destroy half a corn-field in a single
night, and when they get at the sea-fowl in the crannies of the rocks,
they commit such havoc that the bold fowler, who pursues his avocation
at the risk of his neck, finds little left to reward his pains and
perils. In one island, the church-path, which is the best and often the
only road, is so steep and narrow that at funerals the corpse is
fastened to a board and carried upon men’s shoulders. At another island,
when the clergyman comes to visit them, which he does on Sundays as
often as the weather and the sea will allow, they hoist him up the lofty
steep cliffs, from his boat, by a rope, there being no other possible
means of landing.
Yet in spite of these manifold difficulties and horrors, (according to
Landt, a Danish pastor, who resided among them many years and who wrote
an admirable account of these islands,) the Feroese are a virtuous, a
civilized, and a happy people. Though obliged to struggle hard for their
subsistence, which is mainly procured by the perilous occupations of
fishing in their dark and stormy northern seas, and fowling among their
giddy precipices, they all find time to acquire reading, writing, and
arithmetic. There is not a school or a school-master in the whole group
of islands; but parents instruct their own children. The worthy pastor
says he found his parishioners remarkably fond of reading, well
instructed in the Christian religion, and often thoroughly acquainted
with the Bible. They make difficult calculations by head with facility,
are good practical astronomers, and delight in the scientific game of
chess, which many of them play admirably well. They are a sober people.
In their long and dreary winter nights, instead of giving themselves up
to the expensive and every-way pernicious excitement of drinking, they
gather round their decent hearth with a book, which they read aloud by
turns; or they play their favourite game, which by exercising their
intellect also tends to their improvement. Whilst thus occupied, the
storm may rage without--the furious ocean shake their rocky islets to
the base--the night extend its long dark hours--the poor Feroese are
happy in the comforts which their industry procures, and in the leisure
they can so rationally employ.
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