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Transcriber's Note:
Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has
been preserved. Inconsistent spelling in the original
(e.g. "Holmencollen" and "Holmenkollen") has been preserved.
The following spelling corrections were made:
- "Bjornstjerne Bjornsen" changed to "Bjornstjerne Bjornson"
- "Armed with his mighty hammer Mjolmer" changed to "Armed with
his mighty hammer Mjolnir"
- "Moldoen" changed to "Moldoeen"
Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.
NORWAY
BY THE SAME ARTIST AND
AUTHOR
Holland
CONTAINING 76 FULL-PAGE
ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR
PRICE 20c. NET
Agents in America
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
64 and 66 Fifth Avenue, New York
[Illustration: COUNTRY GIRL FROM DALEN]
NORWAY BY NICO
JUNGMAN . TEXT BY
BEATRIX JUNGMAN
PUBLISHED BY A. & C.
BLACK LONDON W
Published April 1905
CONTENTS
PAGE
CHAPTER I
PRECARIOUS TRAVEL 3
CHAPTER II
BROTTEM, AUNE, SLIPER, GJORA, SUNDALSOREN, ETC. 23
CHAPTER III
ON THE FJORDS 45
CHAPTER IV
MINOR ROMANTIC EPISODES 63
CHAPTER V
MAINLY ABOUT SAINTS 85
CHAPTER VI
ARTS AND CRAFTS 107
CHAPTER VII
FARM-HOUSES: WEDDING FESTIVITIES 129
CHAPTER VIII
FORESTRY: REINDEER: LAND TENURES 149
CHAPTER IX
FISHERIES: THE LAPPS: RELIGION AND MORALS: MUSIC 169
CHAPTER X
LEGENDS AND LITERATURE 187
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
1. Country Girl from Dalen _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
2. Trondhjem--Old Boats 4
3. Costume worn in the Bergen District 6
4. The Road to Hell, near Trondhjem 8
5. White Cap worn in the Bergen District 10
6. Trondhjem 12
7. Little Girl of Telemarken 14
8. Making the Dinner--a Cottage Interior at Saelbo 16
9. Bergen 18
10. On the Fjord, Sundalsoren 20
11. Country-women selling Berries on the Road to
Storen 24
12. Norwegian Captain 26
13. Farm-house and Mill at Gjora 28
14. Mountains and River at Gjora 30
15. A Little Farm on the Riverside at Gjora 32
16. Ostre Kanalhavn, Trondhjem 34
17. The Town of Molde 36
18. Woman Spinning, Sundalsoren 38
19. Snow-capped Mountain at Sundalsoren 40
20. Old Warehouse and Boats, Molde 46
21. Mountains and Fjord facing Molde 48
22. Moldoeen 50
23. Bergen 52
24. A Fair Maiden of North Bergen 54
25. Bergen Boats and Warehouses 56
26. Vaefos, Hildal, Hardanger 58
27. A Hardanger Country Girl 64
28. Skjaeggedalsfos, Hardanger 66
29. Hardanger Headdress 68
30. River at Haukeli 70
31. A Peasant of Saetersdalen 72
32. Espelandsfos, Hardanger 74
33. A Boy of Saetersdalen 76
34. Sundalsfjord 78
35. Saetersdalen Girl in National Costume 80
36. Saetersdalen Peasant Girl 86
37. Moldoeen 88
38. A Cottage Interior, Telemarken 90
39. A Norwegian Girl 92
40. Kjendalsbrae 94
41. A Typical Norwegian Maiden 96
42. A Baby of Telemarken 98
43. Romsdals Horn 100
44. Old Age, Telemarken 102
45. Romsdals Waterfall 108
46. The Houses of Parliament (Storthing),
Christiania 110
47. Ski Sports--the Great Holmencollen Day
outside Christiania 112
48. Room by Munthe at Holmencollen 114
49. Skiers drinking Goosewine 116
50. Girls on Overturned Sledge, Holmencollen 118
51. Old Canal, Christiania 120
52. Sledging by Torchlight 122
53. Making Native Tapestry 124
54. Bird's-eye View of Christiania 126
55. A Vosse Bride 130
56. Farm-houses built of Poles 132
57. Country Girl, Bergen District 138
58. Saetersdalen Bride 140
59. A Hardanger Bride 142
60. Making "Flad-Brod"--a Cottage Interior 144
61. Snow Plough drawn by Eight or Ten Horses 150
62. Fishing through the Ice on Christiania Fjord 152
63. Fishing-nets at Sundalsoren 156
64. The Midnight Sun 158
65. Mundal, Fjaerland, Sognefjord 162
66. Fishing-boats at Lofoten 170
67. A Little Saetersdalen Peasant Girl 172
68. Buerbrae, Odde Hardanger 174
69. A Lapp Mother and Child 176
70. Snow-capped Mountains at Aune 178
71. River at Gjora 182
72. Grieg 184
73. Henrik Ibsen 188
74. Bjornstjerne Bjornson 190
75. Fridtjof Nansen 192
PRECARIOUS TRAVEL
NORWAY
CHAPTER I
PRECARIOUS TRAVEL
Of the sea voyage to Norway the less said the better. It is my habit
to be ill when I am at sea. That is unfortunate; but habit in itself
engenders a mode of philosophy that makes many of the evils of life
more easily bearable than they might otherwise be. I expect to be ill,
and literally lay myself out for it; but Nico takes up an attitude of
aggrieved surprise that the ocean should thus overcome him, and
consequently is a far greater sufferer than I am. However, it is easy
to assume a more or less frivolous tone when all is over, and the fact
must be admitted that the voyage to Norway is almost invariably
unpleasant to the majority. From the Continent, one can go overland;
but such a country as Norway should be approached by sea. Still, many
a valiant sportsman prefers the land for his return when the autumn
winds begin to blow, and so it is not surprising that less hardy
natures are inclined to do the same. It was summer when I visited
Norway for the first time; and, although one has frequent chances of
viewing the coast as one steams along it from Stavanger to Trondhjem,
I did not really begin to take any interest in the country until I had
rested and eaten for some days in the latter town. Certainly I had one
experience in Bergen during the two or three hours that we stopped
there on our way north. With my usual insatiable thirst for
dissipation, I insisted on visiting a circus I had discovered upon the
outskirts of the town. The performance was not very thrilling; but we
are neither of us difficult to please, and we stayed rather late.
Thus, when we returned to the quay the gangway of our vessel was being
pulled up. Nico made a rush for it, and was saved; but could not
prevent the sailors from completing their task, and thus I was left
lamenting. However, the sailors finally threw me a rope, and I managed
to scramble on to the deck. It was most undignified, and, I am afraid,
from the safety of the deck a most laughable spectacle; and I fled
to hide my embarrassment in my cabin, ultimately going supperless to
bed.
[Illustration: TRONDHJEM--OLD BOATS
The form of the ancient Viking ships is still preserved in these
boats]
In Trondhjem it rained all day and all night, and the inhabitants
cheerfully told us that it was always so. Nico, however, painted in
the rain, enveloped in mackintoshes and encompassed by umbrellas, and
was much disgusted to find that he attracted no attention at all.
Accustomed as I am to be an object of inquisitive interest to the
inhabitants of small Dutch towns, I was rather relieved to be taken so
absolutely for granted in Norway, in spots unfrequented even by ardent
fishermen.
At Trondhjem we were delighted with the delicious salmon and
sea-trout; but after some weeks of salmon for breakfast, salmon for
dinner, and salmon for supper, I found myself wondering whether it was
all that it had seemed to me at first. I am rather ashamed to have to
confess that, in spite of the fact that wherever English was spoken
the chances were that the conversation turned upon salmon or trout
fishing, neither Nico nor I know anything of those earlier and more
exciting passages in the salmon's career which culminate in his
presence at the table. It may be said that, with the exception of the
Germans, who visit the coast-line in ship-loads, there are
practically no _tourists_ in Norway. Fish seem to be the main object
of the stranger within her gates; and, as I have long despaired of
grafting a sporting taste upon the artistic temperament, I decided
then and there to leave the subject severely alone.
Besides the anglers, many men go over for shooting. There are still
wild animals to be found; licences are very cheap; and the Government
even offers a reward for the slaughter of certain beasts. In the case
of the rarer animals, such as the elk and the wild reindeer, certain
restrictions are placed upon the foreign hunter. On the payment of a
sum between ten and twelve pounds he is allowed to kill three reindeer
and one elk. The native hunter suffers from the same restrictions; but
his licence costs him very much less.
[Illustration: COSTUME WORN IN THE BERGEN DISTRICT]
All this has little to do with Trondhjem. We were rather unlucky
there, and were not, perhaps, so much impressed as we ought to have
been. Calculations based upon careful study of the guide-book proved
to be incorrect, and we found the doors of the Cathedral constantly
closed against us. As it is _the_ object of interest in the place, we
were somewhat impatient, and, when we did contrive to obtain entrance,
were not in any way mollified to find the building pervaded by
spectacled and reverential Germans, who bestowed superciliously
indignant glances upon us, as on persons who were unjustly sharing a
view arranged for their party specially. It is certainly a most
beautiful building, and is being restored in a worthy manner. I
remarked as much to Nico at the moment, but was immediately suppressed
by the ancient guardian acting as our guide, who begged me in very
stately broken English not to interrupt his discourse. Later we went
to a music-hall and sat through a most extraordinary programme twice
repeated. Nico ordered beer, and was served with an immense plate of
variegated sandwiches in addition. This, I believe, was in accordance
with the law that forbids the sale of intoxicating liquors unless food
is served with them. All over Norway the most complicated laws are in
force with respect to drink, and these laws seem to be different in
every town and village. I have not gone into the subject deeply; but
it is certainly a rare thing to meet with a drunken Norwegian in the
country parts.
Trondhjem always has been, and still is, the crowning place of the
Norwegian kings. It seems to me that it is a long way to go for such a
purpose; but I concluded that it was an affair in which the kings
alone were concerned. We walked out to a beautiful waterfall near the
town, called the Lerfos, and came back by rail. Some idea of the speed
attained by the trains may be gathered from the fact that, although
the train had started when we reached the station, we were able to
board it quite easily after it had gone some distance. Then, one very
wet morning we decided that we had had enough of the place, and,
shaking the mud from our boots, we took train to Hell. I refrain from
the obvious little jokes that may be made upon such a journey, and
merely record the fact that we arrived very cold, and soon became very
wet during our stay there. The station buildings were all locked up;
and we wandered about disconsolately, waiting for the cart which was
to meet us and drive us to Saelbo, where we had decided to spend a few
days. The vehicle which we had chosen was a _stolkjaerre_, and I must
here explain some of the difficulties of locomotion peculiar to
Norway. The mileage of railway is small in proportion to the size of
the country: the natural formation of the land presents immense
difficulties to the engineer. To these obstacles must be added the
very hard winters, the heavy rainfall, and the exceeding scantiness
of the population in many parts of the country. Consequently, almost
all travelling is carried out by means of an admirably arranged
posting system. On all the roads, at distances varying from seven to
eleven miles, may be found posting stations where horses may be
changed; where, also, the traveller may eat and sleep. These wayside
inns are generally farmhouses, varying widely in their capacity for
the entertainment of man and beast. They are obliged to keep a certain
number of carts and horses for the use of travellers at a specified
rate per kilometre, fixed by the Government, such rates being subject
to slight increase where particularly mountainous roads are concerned.
There are three classes of vehicles in general use. The _carriole_,
which is the typical Norwegian conveyance, is exceedingly comfortable
and well adapted to its purpose; it is built for one person, and runs
easily on good springs, and may be likened to an armchair on wheels,
but so arranged that one can either sit in it with knees bent, as in
an ordinary vehicle, or stretched out at full length in a kind of
trough. This obviates the stiffness engendered by endless hours of
driving in one position.
[Illustration: THE ROAD TO HELL, NEAR TRONDHJEM
This is one of the rare railway stations of Norway]
The stolkjaerre, on the other hand, is a terrible invention, as much
like one of our plumber's handcarts with a rough wooden seat in it as
anything I can think of. It holds two people and a certain amount of
luggage. On the main roads one finds the carts fitted with something
in the way of springs; but upon roads such as it was our fortune to be
driven on, often badly in need of repairs, they were usually much
behind the times, and it was a wonderful and awful sensation to drive
for untold hours under such conditions.
The carriole and the stolkjaerre have a small seat at the back for the
boy who is sent by the proprietor, to be changed, along with the horse
and cart, at each station; but in the case of the third method of
locomotion--that is to say, with much style and excessive
slowness--one takes over the responsibility of the whole
affair--namely, coachman, horses, and carriage, which in this case is
called _kaleschevogn_,--only to be laid aside when one arrives at
one's final destination, and using the stations only for the purpose
of resting and eating. To return to the carriole and the stolkjaerre.
It must be noted that one is expected to drive oneself, though, if
anything goes wrong with the horse and cart, the driver is
responsible. The mountain ponies are very surefooted and need no
guidance; but it was our fate to be made acquainted with cattle that
shied, with others that tripped, and with one pony (I recall the
occurrence with horror) that stumbled on a narrow road, cut out of the
almost perpendicular side of a mountain, three thousand feet above a
roaring torrent. One wheel of our vehicle was actually in mid-air;
but, fortunately, the horse fell on the shaft that was on the mountain
side of the pass. Had this not been so, one of the stones that mark
the site of such accidents on the Norwegian roads would have been
erected to our memory.
[Illustration: WHITE CAP WORN IN THE BERGEN DISTRICT]
It was at Hell that we had our first experience of the stolkjaerre.
This was after waiting some three hours, which Nico improved by making
a sketch, while I looked for visionary wild strawberries in the
soaking grass. Then appeared a cosy little carriole, upholstered in
red velvet, and carefully covered with tarpaulins. This was
immediately taken over by a prosperous station official, who drove off
in comparative comfort. In a few minutes appeared the plumber's
handcart which I have already attempted to describe, and in it a very
diminutive boy, who manfully tackled the luggage, which he endeavoured
to make fast with a heap of very thin string, supplemented by straps
from Nico's sketching equipment. Now we were really off, and I had
time to study our pony. He had a long and heavy tail, which he would
toss over the reins; the pressure he thus brought to bear he promptly
obeyed, and we pursued a somewhat erratic course, varied by descents
upon the part of the diminutive boy to replace the pony's tail. At
length we reached a lonely farmhouse, at which, he implied, we were to
alight; and we paid him his little bill, with the addition of a small
_pourboire_. He shook hands very gravely with Nico, and, looking again
at his money, inwardly decided that we deserved a little more
attention, and shook hands with me too. We did not know anything about
posting, and, somewhat overwhelmed with this ceremonious leave-taking,
stood for some time in doubt as to what to do next. Soon an old woman
appeared at the door of the house, and beckoned us in. I explained as
well as I could, with the help of a phrase-book, that we wanted a
horse and stolkjaerre as quickly as possible. This seemed to amuse the
old lady immensely. She laughed until the tears came into her eyes,
and, taking the book from my hands, examined it intently upside down.
As it was getting late and we had still a long way to go, Nico
tried what could be done by a pantomimic display. Sitting astride a
chair, he tied his handkerchief to represent the reins, and
supplemented the performance with encouraging noises addressed to an
imaginary steed. This tickled the people of the house; but I realised
that we were no nearer our object, and decided to forage for myself. I
boldly ascended the steep incline of logs upheld by beams that led
from the yard to a very dark stable. I found no horse; but there was a
stolkjaerre without the ghost of a spring. I appealed again to the old
lady, who had followed me, for a horse. She merely patted me, and, I
think, urged me to be calm. Just at this moment another boy appeared
upon the scene, and inquired whether it was really a horse that we
wanted. Knowing the Norwegian for _horse_, I nodded vigorously. He
smiled indulgently, but took no other step. After another half hour's
alternate shouting and periods of calm, the boy roused himself to
action and went off, while the old lady, who, I believe, was really
kind and interested in us, took me into the kitchen and made up the
fire, as she discovered that my hands were cold. I suppose she knew
what we wanted all the time, and that we ought to have taken things
more easily; but at that time I knew nothing of the unwritten laws
with regard to posting in Norway.
[Illustration: TRONDHJEM]
We had a terribly long drive, through magnificent scenery, going
uphill for miles; and very desolate and wild it seemed in the half
light of that damp and dreary evening. Not a human being did we meet,
and scarcely a dwelling was to be seen along the route. It was
midnight when we reached our destination, one of the typical
boarding-houses scattered all over Norway, in which inhabitants of the
towns not possessing villas of their own pass a few weeks in the
summer. They are called "sanatoriums," generally provide fishing, and
are always amid glorious scenery. The ones that I visited were
splendidly managed, and exceedingly reasonable in their charges.
Marienborg, the name of the small sanatorium in which we stayed at
Saelbo, is exquisitely situated above a very charming lake, and new
beauties discovered themselves in whatever direction one wandered. The
air is perfect, and the weather almost dependable, in the few short
weeks of summer. It was now the middle of August. The hostess was
carefully tending her strawberry-beds, and pointed out to us a fine
specimen that was still green. The meals at this establishment may
be taken, I think, as typical of those of the whole of Northern
Norway. Breakfast (when you wish) consists of coffee and cream, eggs,
and various odorous kinds of cheese, of which I can only remember the
names of two, the reindeer cheese and the goat cheese. Dinner is at
two o'clock. Salmon is a staple dish; the meat, generally mutton, is
not much to boast of. The game, when one can get it, is excellent. The
people seem to care little for any vegetable except potatoes. A great
"feature" of the meal is the dishes of fresh berries served with an
abundance of delicious cream. The milk, which is a general drink, is
always skimmed. The bread is an acquired taste, cinnamon and caraway
seeds being often used as a flavouring. A strange bread, which at its
best form was rather pleasant, consisted of sheets of wafer-like
thinness and considerable size, broken up to the requirements of the
eaters. This is served with every meal. One seemed to be eating tissue
paper without pulp. Though it is difficult to believe in its
nourishing qualities, a Norwegian meal would be incomplete without it.
Amid more gorgeous circumstances it is rejected for a delicately
flavoured smooth wafer which is really pleasing with butter. In
places near the sea we were delighted with the abundance of prawns
and lobsters; prawns of such perfection I had never tasted before. It
is very difficult to get fresh butter. As a rule it is made in the
saeters in the mountains, where the cattle are kept in summer, and on
account of the heat is very much oversalted before being sent down.
[Illustration: LITTLE GIRL OF TELEMARKEN]
We stayed some time at Saelbo, as the only way to leave it was by
riding along a narrow bridle-path for over a hundred kilometres, and
this was not likely to be very pleasant. The only way to avoid it was
by partially retracing our footsteps, and this we liked still less.
Nico had become devoted to the picturesque log buildings with their
delightful grass roofs studded with flowers, and even in some cases
actually bearing small trees; and I had discovered a dear old woman
who passed her time in knitting curious triangular gloves. She had
been nurse in an English family many years before, and could speak a
sort of English. She loved to tell me tales of her former charges; she
did not seem to mind how much I understood, and no more did I. Her two
sons were in America, whence they sent her a sufficient allowance to
keep her in comparative comfort, and in addition to this she sold the
gloves she passed her time in knitting. She lived all alone in a
log house consisting of one large room, which served her for all
purposes except sleeping (a tiny cabin built in the main wall served
for that), and containing very little furniture, the peasantry in
Norway having the good sense to appreciate the advantages of space.
Large tables with folding legs are fixed with hinges to the wall, and
when not in use are hooked up out of the way. In one corner of the
room was the round whitewashed open fireplace and chimney which are
characteristic of these log houses--infinitely to be preferred, from a
comforting as well as a picturesque point of view, to the tall iron
stoves generally in use. The stoves have their qualities, however,
being narrow and made in four or five divisions above that intended
for fuel, which is invariably wood. Each of these compartments has its
own temperature, and is to be used with discretion for drying and
heating purposes. One word of warning: do not put your boots in the
partition nearest the fire.
[Illustration: MAKING THE DINNER--A COTTAGE INTERIOR AT SAELBO]
At our sanatorium all the visitors ate at one table, and we were
charmed at our first acquaintance with a custom which holds good all
through Norway. When the meal is over all the guests wait for the
hostess to rise; then they follow her example and gravely bow, thus
thanking one another for the honour conferred during the repast. This
practice is observed wherever two or more people are seated at the
same table, even though they may be absolute strangers.
We had now discovered that by crossing the lake on a very old steamer
we should reach a place called Brottem and thence proceed northwards
to a spot from which we could pursue our journey. We parted from the
lovely smiling place with many regrets, and, boarding the steamer,
found we had it to ourselves. At a bend in the lake Saelbo was lost to
our sight, while on either side of the narrow water the banks rose
precipitously, thickly wooded with pines. The sun had disappeared, and
the air was growing cold, when suddenly the steamer stopped, the
captain proclaiming in a matter-of-fact tone that the engine refused
to work. We ascertained that we were in no actual danger; but out of
sight and sound of humanity, on a tiny and very ancient vessel, we
were in a position of unpleasant possibilities. We remained stationary
for two hours. Then one of our three navigators had a brilliant
inspiration. That was to examine the engines, which had not,
apparently, occurred to any of them before! After a little coaxing the
vessel began to move again; and we eventually landed on the farther
shore of the lake, very cold, very hungry, and much belated.
[Illustration: BERGEN]
Here we found a large farmhouse surrounded by many outbuildings, and
evidently prosperous. We were received with enthusiasm by the burly
proprietor, his servants, and a Norwegian family engaged in fishing
who were staying at the place. A splendid meal was prepared, and, to
my joy, a wood fire was roaring in the tall iron stove of a large
bedroom set apart for me. The fishing family knew a few words of
English, which they were as much pleased to speak as we to hear. Next
day was a Sunday, and at dinner Nico in his ignorance expressed a
desire for something to drink, which was refused, as nothing could be
sold on that day. The kind fishermen came to the rescue. They plied us
with rare wines, and under that friendly influence we thawed
gratefully. I found them enthusiastic whist-players, and eagerly
desirous of mastering the intricacies of bridge. I did what I could in
one short afternoon to enlighten them, and soon after sent them two
scoring boards. Probably they will evolve a game for themselves which
in the next generation will utterly eclipse bridge, as bridge has
eclipsed whist and solo.
[Illustration: ON THE FJORD, SUNDALSOREN]
BROTTEM, AUNE, SLIPER, GJORA, SUNDALSOREN, ETC.