Engagement and Marriage.--Home-Life.--Planning the Polar
Expedition.
Two months after Nansen had returned home from his Greenland expedition
he became engaged to Eva Sars, daughter of the late Professor Sars,
and was married to her the same autumn. Her mother was the sister of
the poet Welhaven.
The following story of his engagement is related:--
"On the night of Aug. 12 a shower of gravel and small pebbles rattled
against the panes of a window in the house where Fridtjof Nansen's
half-sister lived. He was very fond of her, and of her husband also,
who had indeed initiated him in the use of gun and rod, and who had
taken him with him, when a mere lad, on many a sporting excursion
to Nordmarken.
"On hearing this unusual noise at the dead of night, his brother-in-law
jumped out of bed in no very amiable frame of mind, and opening the
window, called out, 'What is it?'
"'I want to come in!' said a tall figure dressed in gray, from the
street below.
"A volley of expletives greeted the nocturnal visitor, who kept on
saying, 'I want to come in.'
"Before long Fridtjof Nansen was standing in his sister's bedroom at
two o'clock in the morning.
"Raising herself up in the bed, she said, 'But, Fridtjof, whatever
is it?'
"'I'm engaged to be married--that's all!' was the laconic reply.
"'Engaged! But with whom?'
"'Why, with Eva, of course!'
"Then he said he felt very hungry, and his brother-in-law had to take
a journey into the larder and fetch out some cold meat, and then down
into the cellar after a bottle of champagne. His sister's bed served
for a table, and a new chapter in 'Fridtjof's saga' was inaugurated
at this nocturnal banquet."
The story goes, Nansen first met his future wife in a snowdrift. One
day, it appears, when up in the Frogner woods, he espied two little
boots sticking up out of the snow. Curiosity prompted him to go and see
to whom the said boots belonged, and as he approached for that purpose,
a little snow be-sprinkled head peered up at him. It was Eva Sars!
What gives this anecdote interest is that it was out of the snow and
the cold to which he was to dedicate his life, she, who became dearer
to him than life itself, first appeared.
Another circumstance connected therewith worthy of note is that
Eva Sars was a person of rather a cold and repellent nature, and
gave one the impression that there was a good deal of snow in her
disposition. Hence the reason perhaps why she kept aloof rather
than attracted those who would know her. Fridtjof Nansen, however,
was not the man to be deterred by coldness. He was determined to win
her, even if he should have to cross the inland ice of Greenland for
that purpose.
But when she became his wife all the reserve and coldness of her nature
disappeared. She took the warmest interest in his plans, participated
in his work, making every sacrifice a woman can make to promote his
purpose. In all his excursions in the open air she accompanied him; and
when she knew that he was making preparations for another expedition,
one involving life itself, not a murmur escaped her lips. And when
the hour of parting came at last, and a long, lonely time of waiting
lay before her, she broke out into song. For in those dreary years of
hope deferred she developed into an accomplished songstress; and when
the fame of Nansen's exploit resounded throughout the whole north,
the echo of her song answered in joyful acclaim. The maidens of
Norway listening to her spirited strains, and beholding this brave
little woman with her proudly uplifted head, learnt from Eva Nansen
that such was the way in which a woman should meet a sorrow--such
the way in which she should undergo a time of trial.
The following story, in Nansen's own words, will serve to give an
idea of the sort of woman she was:
"It was New Year's Eve, 1890. Eva and I had gone on a little trip to
Kroederen, [34] and we determined to get to the top of Norefjeld. "We
slept at Olberg, and, feeling rather lazy next morning, did not
set out till nearly noon. We took it very easily, moreover! Even in
summer-time it is a stiff day's work to clamber up Norefjeld; but
in winter, when the days are short, one has to look pretty sharp to
reach the top while it is light. Moreover, the route we chose, though
perhaps the most direct, was not by any means the shortest. The snow
lay very deep; and soon it became impossible to go on ski, the ascent
being so steep, that we had to take them off and carry them. However,
we had made up our minds to reach the top; for it would never do to
turn back after having gone half-way, difficult though the ascent
might be. The last part of our journey was the most trying of all;
I had to cut out steps with my ski-staff to get a foothold in the
frozen snow. I went in front, and Eva followed close behind me. It
really seemed that we slipped two steps backward for every one we took
forward. At last we reached the top; it was pitch dark, and we had been
going from ten A.M. to five P.M., without food. But, thank goodness,
we had some cheese and pemmican with us, so we sat down on the snow,
and ate it.
"Yes! there were we two alone on the top of Norefjeld, five thousand
feet above the sea, with a biting wind blowing that made our cheeks
tingle, and the darkness growing thicker and thicker every moment. Far
away in the west there was a faint glimmer of daylight,--of the
last day of the old year,--just enough to guide us by. The next
thing to be done was to get down to Eggedal. From where we were it
was a distance of about six and one-half miles, a matter of little
consequence in broad daylight, but in the present instance no joke,
I can assure you! However, it had to be done. So off we started,
I leading the way, Eva following.
"We went like the wind down the slope, but had to be very careful. When
one has been out in the dark some little time, it is just as if the
snow gives out a faint light--though light it cannot really be termed,
but a feeble kind of shimmer. Goodness only knows how we managed to
get down, but get down we did! As it was too steep to go on ski, there
was nothing for it but to squat and slide down--a kind of locomotion
detrimental, perhaps, to one's breeches, but under the circumstances
unquestionably the safest mode of proceeding in the dark!
"When we had got half-way down my hat blew off. So I had to 'put the
brake on,' and get up on my legs, and go after it. Far away above
me I got a glimpse of a dark object on the snow, crawled after it,
got up to it, and grasped it, to find it was only a stone! My hat,
then, must be further up. Surely that was it--again I got hold of a
stone! The snow seemed to be alive with stones. Hat after hat, hat
after hat, but whenever I tried to put it on my head, it turned out
to be a stone. A stone for bread is bad enough, and stones for hats
are not a bit better! So I had to give it up, and go hatless.
"Eva had been sitting waiting for me all this while. 'Eva,' I shouted,
and a faint answer came back from below.
"Those miles seemed to be uncommonly long ones. Every now and then
we could use our ski, and then it would become so steep again that
we had to carry them. At last we came to a standstill. There was
a chasm right in front of us,--how deep it was it was too dark to
ascertain. However, we bundled over it somehow or other, and happily
the snow was very deep. It is quite incredible how one can manage to
get over a difficulty!
"As regards our direction, we had lost it completely; all we knew was
that we must get down into the valley. Again we came to a standstill,
and Eva had to wait while I went on, groping in the dark, trying to
find a way. I was absent on this errand some little time. Presently
it occurred to me, 'What if she should have fallen asleep!'
"'Eva!' I shouted, 'Eva!' Yes, she answered; but she must be a long
way above where I was. If she had been asleep it would have been a
difficult matter to have found her. But I groped my way up-hill to
her, with the consolation that I had found the bed of a stream. Now
the bed of a stream is not very well adapted for ski, especially when
it is pitch dark, and the stomach is empty, and conscience pricks
you,--for really I ought not to have ventured on such an expedition
with her. However, 'all's well that ends well,' and we got through
all right.
"We had now got down to the birch scrub, and at last found our road.
"After some little time we passed a cabin. I thought it wouldn't
be a bad place to take refuge in, but Eva said it was so horribly
dirty! She was full of spirits now, and voted for going on. So
on we went, and in due time reached the parish clerk's house in
Eggedal. Of course the inmates were in bed, so we had to arouse
them. The clerk was horrified when I told him we had just come from
the top of Norefjeld. This time Eva was not so nice about lodgings,
for no sooner had she sat down on a chair, than she fell asleep. It
was midnight, mind you, and she had been in harness fourteen hours.
"'He's a bit tired, poor lad!' said the clerk. For Eva had on a
ski-dress with a very small skirt, trousers, and a Lapp fur cloak.
"'That's my wife,' I replied, whereupon he burst out into a
laugh. 'Nay, nay! to drag his wife with him over the top of Norefjeld
on New Year's Eve!' he said.
"Presently he brought in something to eat, for we were famished;
and when Eva smelt it wasn't cheese and pemmican, she woke up.
"We rested here three days. Yes, it had been a New Year's Eve trip. A
very agreeable one in my opinion, but I'm not so sure Eva altogether
agreed with me!
"Two days later I and the 'poor little lad' drove through Numedal to
Kongsberg in nine degrees below zero (Fahrenheit), which nearly froze
the little fellow. But it is not a bad thing occasionally to have to
put up with some inconveniences--you appreciate comforts afterward
so much the more. He who has never experienced what cold is, does
not really know the meaning of warmth!"
The day after the wedding the newly married pair set out for
Newcastle, where there was to be a meeting of the Geographical Society,
travelling via Gothenburg, Hamburg, and London. After this they went
to Stockholm, and here Nansen was presented with the "Vega" medal by
His Majesty. This was a distinguished honor, the more so as it had
hitherto only been awarded to five persons, among whom were Stanley
and Nordenskjoeld. Nansen subsequently was presented with several
medals in foreign countries, and was made a Knight of the Order of
St. Olaf and Danebrog.
On their return from Stockholm to Norway, Nansen and his wife took
apartments at Marte Larsen's, the old housekeeper at Store Froeen, and
stayed there two months, after which they took a house on the Drammen
road. But they did not enjoy themselves there, and Nansen determined
to build a house, for which purpose he bought a site at Svartebugta,
near Lysaker. [35] It was here that, as a boy, he had often watched for
wild ducks. It was a charming spot, moreover, and within easy distance
of the town. The house was finished in the spring of 1890. During
the whole of the winter, while building operations were going on,
they lived in an icy cold pavillion near Lysaker railway station.
"It was here he weaned me from freezing," says Eva Nansen.
In this wretched habitation, where the water froze in the bedroom at
night, Nansen would sit and work at his book on Greenland, and when
he had time would superintend the building of the new house. It was
called "Godthaab"--a name given it by Bjoernstjerne Bjoernson.
In the autumn of this year Nansen set out on a lengthened lecturing
tour, accompanied by his wife. He lectured in Copenhagen, London,
Berlin, and Dresden, about his Greenland experiences, and also about
the projected expedition to the North Pole. Everywhere people were
attracted by his captivating individuality; but most thought this
new expedition too venturesome. Even the most experienced Arctic
explorers shook their heads, for they thought that, from such a
daring enterprise, not a single member of the expedition would ever
return alive.
But Nansen adhered to his own opinions, and we see him in the
intervening years occupied with the equipment required for an
expedition to the polar regions--a work so stupendous that the
preparations for the Greenland expedition were but child's play
in comparison.