THE FAROE ISLANDS.
The Faroe Islands lie about midway between Scotland and Iceland, and
belong to Denmark. The whole group consists of thirty-five small
islands, some of which are little more than naked rocks jutting up out
of the sea. About twenty are inhabited. The rest are too barren and
precipitous to afford a suitable place of abode even for the hardy
Faroese. The entire population is estimated at something over six
thousand, of which the greater part are shepherds, fishermen, and
bird-catchers. Owing to the situation of these islands, surrounded by
the open sea and within the influence of the Gulf Stream, the climate
is very mild, although they lie in the sixty-second degree of north
latitude. The winters are never severe, and frost and snow rarely last
over two months. They are subject, however, at that season to frequent
and terrible gales from the north, and during the summer are often
inaccessible for days and even weeks, owing to dense fogs. The
humidity of the climate is favorable to the growth of grass, which
covers the hills with a brilliant coating of green wherever there is
the least approach to soil; and where there is no soil, as in many
places along the shores, the rocks are beautifully draped with moss
and lichens. The highest point in the group is 2800 feet above the
level of the sea, and the general aspect of them all is wild and
rugged in the extreme. Prodigious cliffs, a thousand feet high, stand
like a wall out of the sea on the southern side of the Stromoe. The
Mygenaes-holm, a solitary rock, guards, like a sentinel, one of the
passages, and forms a terrific precipice of 1500 feet on one side,
against which the waves break with an everlasting roar. Here the
solan-goose, the eider-duck, and innumerable varieties of gulls and
other sea-fowl, build their nests and breed.
[Illustration: VIEW IN FAROE ISLANDS.]
At certain seasons of the year the intrepid bird-hunters suspend
themselves from the cliffs by means of ropes, and feather their own
nests by robbing the nests of their neighbors. Enormous quantities of
eggs are taken in this way. The eider-down, of which the nests of the
eider-duck are composed, is one of the most profitable articles of
Faroese traffic. The mode of life to which these men devote
themselves, and their habitual contact with dangers, render them
reckless, and many perish every year by falling from the rocks. Widows
and orphans are numerous throughout the islands.
The few scattering farms to be seen on the slopes of the hills and in
the arable valleys are conducted on the most primitive principles. A
small patch of potatoes and vegetables, and in certain exposures a few
acres of grain, comprise the extent of their agricultural operations.
Sheep-raising is the most profitable of their pursuits. The climate
appears to be more congenial to the growth of wool than of cereal
productions. The Faroese sheep are noted for the fineness and
luxuriance of their fleece, and it always commands a high price in
market. A considerable portion of it is manufactured by the
inhabitants, who are quite skillful in weaving and knitting. They make
a kind of thick woolen shirt, something like that known as the
Guernsey, which for durability and warmth is unsurpassed. Sailors and
fishermen all over the Northern seas consider themselves fortunate if
they can get possession of a Faroese shirt. The costume of the men,
which is chiefly home-made, consists of a rough, thick jacket of brown
wool; a coarse woolen shirt; a knitted bag-shaped cap on the head; a
pair of knee-breeches of the same material as the coat; a pair of
thick woolen stockings, and sheepskin shoes, generally covered with
mud--all of the same brown or rather burnt-umber color. Exposure to
the weather gives their skins, naturally of a leathery texture,
something of the same dull and dingy aspect, so that a genuine
Faroese enjoys one advantage--he can never look much more dirty at one
time than another.
The women wear dresses of the same material, without much attempt at
shape or ornament. A colored handkerchief tied around the head, a
silver breast-pin, and a pair of ear-rings of domestic manufacture,
comprise their only personal decorations. As in all countries where
the burden of heavy labor is thrown upon the women, they lose their
comely looks at an early age, and become withered, ill-shaped, and
hard-featured long before they reach the prime of life. The Faroese
women doubtless make excellent wives for lazy men; they do all the
labors of the house, and share largely in those of the field. I do not
know that they are more prolific than good and loving wives in other
parts of the world, but they certainty enjoy the possession of as many
little cotton-heads with dirty faces, turned up noses, ragged elbows,
and tattered frocks, as one usually meets in the course of his
travels. Two fair specimens of the rising generation, a little boy and
girl, made an excellent speculation on the occasion of my visit to
Thorshavn. Knowing by instinct, if not by my dress, that I was a
stranger, they followed me about wherever I rambled, looking curiously
and cautiously into my face, and mutually commenting upon the oddity
of my appearance--which, by-the-way, would have been slightly odd even
in the streets of New York, wrapped, as I was, in the voluminous folds
of Captain Sodring's old whaling coat, with a sketch-book in my hand
and a pair of spectacles on my nose. However, no man likes to be
regarded as an object of curiosity even by two small ragamuffins
belonging to a strange race, so I just held up suddenly, and requested
these children of Faroe to state explicitly the grounds of their
interest in my behalf. What they said in reply it would be impossible
for me to translate, since the Faroese language is quite as
impenetrable as the Icelandic. They looked so startled and alarmed
withal that a gleam of pity must have manifested its appearance in
the corner of my eyes. The next moment their faces broke into a broad
grin, and each held out a hand audaciously, as much as to say, "My
dear sir, if you'll put a small copper in this small hand, we'll
retract all injurious criticisms, and ever after regard you as a
gentleman of extraordinary personal beauty!" Somehow my hand slipped
unconsciously into my pocket, but, before handing them the desired
change, it occurred to me to secure their likenesses for publication
as a warning to the children of all nations not to undertake a similar
experiment with any hope of success.
[Illustration: FAROESE CHILDREN.]
Thorshavn, so named after the old god Thor, is a small town of some
five or six hundred inhabitants, situated on the southeastern side of
the island of Stromoe. In front lies a harbor, indifferently protected
by a small island and two rocky points. The anchorage is insecure at
all times, especially during the prevalence of southerly and easterly
gales, when it often becomes necessary to heave up and put to sea; and
the dense fogs by which the approach to land is generally obscured
render navigation about these islands extremely perilous. Of the town
of Thorshavn little need be said. Its chief interest lies in the
almost primeval construction of the houses and the rustic simplicity
of its inhabitants. The few streets that run between the straggling
lines of sheds and sod-covered huts scattered over the rocks are
narrow and tortuous, winding up steep, stony precipices, and into
deep, boggy hollows; around rugged points, and over scraggy mounds of
gravel and grit. The public edifices, consisting of two or three small
churches and the amtman's residence, are little better than
martin-boxes. For some reason best known to the people in these
Northern climes, they paint their houses black, except where the roofs
are covered with sod, which nature paints green. I think it must be
from some notion that it gives them a cheerful aspect, though the
darkness of the paint and the chilly luxuriance of the green did not
strike me with joyous impressions. If Scotland can claim some
advantages as a place of residence for snails, Thorshavn must surely
be a paradise for toads accustomed to feed upon the vapors of a
dungeon. The wharves--loose masses of rock at the boat-landing--are
singularly luxuriant in the article of fish. Prodigious piles of
fish lie about in every direction. The shambling old store-houses are
crammed with fish, and the heads of fish and the back-bones of fish
lie bleaching on the rocks. The gravelly patches of beach are slimy
with the entrails of fresh fish, and the air is foul with the odor of
decayed fish. The boatmen that lounge about waiting for a job are
saturated with fish inside and out--like their boats. The cats, crows,
and ravens mingle in social harmony over the dreadful carnival of
fish. In fine, the impression produced upon the stranger who lands for
the first time is that he has accidentally turned up in some
piscatorial hell, where the tortures of skinning, drying, and
disemboweling are performed by the unrelenting hands of man.
[Illustration: FAROESE ISLANDERS.]
In addition to the standing population of Thorshavn, the
fortifications--an abandoned mud-bank, a flag-staff, and a board
shanty--are subject, in times of great public peril, to be defended by
a standing army and navy of twenty-four soldiers, one small boat, one
corporal, and the governor of the islands, who takes the field himself
at the head of this bloody phalanx of Danes still reeking with the
gore of slaughtered fish. Upon the occasion of the arrival of the
_Arcturus_--the only steamer that ever touches here--the principal
amtman, upon perceiving the vessel in the distance, immediately
proceeds to organize the army and navy for a grand display. First he
shaves and puts on his uniform; then calling together the troops, who
are also sailors, he carefully inspects them, and selecting from the
number the darkest, dirtiest, and most bloody-looking, he causes them
to buckle on their swords. This done, he delivers a brief address,
recommending them to abstain from the use of schnapps and other
intoxicating beverages till the departure of the steamer. The dignity
of official position requires that he should remain on shore for the
space of one hour after the dropping of the anchor. He then musters
his forces, marches them down to his war-skiff, from the stern of
which waves the Danish flag, and, placing an oar in the hands of each
man, he gives the order to advance and board the steamer. On his
arrival alongside he touches his cap to the passengers in a grave and
dignified manner, and expresses a desire to see our commander, Captain
Andersen, who, during this period of the ceremony, is down below,
busily occupied in arranging the brandy and crackers. The appearance
of Captain Andersen on deck is politely acknowledged by the amtman,
who thereupon orders his men to pull alongside, when the two
cabin-boys and the cook kindly assist him over the gangway. Descending
into the cabin, he carefully examines the ship's papers, pronounces
them all right, and joins Captain Andersen in a social "smile." Then,
having delivered himself of the latest intelligence on the subject of
wool and codfish, he returns to his boat and proceeds to his quarters
on shore. All this is done with a quiet and dignified formality both
pleasing and impressive.
As an illustration of the severity of the laws that govern the Faroe
Islands, and the upright and inexorable character of the governor and
principal amtman, I must relate an incident that occurred under my own
observation.
Shortly after the _Arcturus_ had cast anchor, the party of British
sportsmen already mentioned went ashore with their dogs and guns, and
began an indiscriminate slaughter of all the game within two miles of
Thorshavn, consisting of three plovers, a snipe, and some half a dozen
sparrows. The captain had warned them that such a proceeding was
contrary to law, and a citizen of Thorshavn had gently remonstrated
with them as they passed through the town. When the slaughter
commenced, the proprietors of the bog, in which the game abounded,
rushed to the doors of their cabins to see what was going on, and
perceiving that it was a party of Englishmen engaged in the
destructive pastime of firing shotguns about and among the flocks of
sheep that browsed on the premises, they straightway laid a complaint
before the governor. The independent sons of Britain were not to be
baffled of their sport in this manner. They cracked away as long as
they pleased, by-Joved and blawsted the island for not having more
game, and then came aboard. The steamer hove up anchor and sailed that
night. Nothing farther took place to admonish us of the consequences
of the trespass till our return from Iceland, when the principal
amtman came on board with a formidable placard, neatly written, and
translated into the three court languages of the place--Danish,
French, and English. The contents of this document were as follows:
that whereas, in the year 1763, a law had been passed for the
protection of game on the Faroe Islands, which law had not since been
rescinded; and whereas a subsequent law of 1786 had been passed for
the protection of sheep and other stock ranging at large on the said
islands, which law had not since been rescinded; and whereas it had
been represented to the governor of the said islands that certain
persons, supposed to be Englishmen, had lately come on shore, armed
with shotguns, and, in violation of the said laws of the country, had
shot at, maimed, and killed several birds, and caused serious
apprehensions of injury to the flocks of sheep which were peaceably
grazing on their respective ranges; now, therefore, this was earnestly
to request that all such persons would reflect upon the penalties that
would attach to similar acts in their own country, and be thus enabled
to perceive the impropriety of pursuing such a course in other
countries. Should they fail to observe the aforesaid laws after this
warning, they would only have themselves to blame for the unpleasant
consequences that must assuredly ensue, etc., etc. [Officially signed
and sealed.]
Great formality was observed in carrying this important document on
board. It was neatly folded and carefully done up, with various seals
and blue ribbons, in a package about six inches wide by eighteen in
length, and was guarded by the select half of the Faroese army and
navy, being exactly twelve men, and delivered by the amtman of the
island with a few appropriate and impressive remarks, after which it
was hung up over the cabin gangway by the captain as a solemn warning
to all future passengers. There can be no doubt that it produced the
most salutary effects upon the sporting gentlemen. I was really glad
the affair had taken place, as it evidently afforded his excellency a
favorable opportunity of promulgating a most excellent state paper,
cautiously conceived and judiciously worded. The preparation of it
must have occupied his time advantageously to himself and his country
during the entire period of our absence.
I must now turn back a little to say that, while my comrades were
engaged in their unlawful work of killing the sparrows and frightening
the sheep, I deemed it a matter of personal safety to keep out of
range of their guns. Apart from the danger of arrest, the probable
loss of an eye or disfigurement of some ornamental feature was a
sufficient consideration to satisfy me of the policy of this course.
Taking a path across the rugged desert of rocks and bogs, extending
for some miles back of Thorshavn, I quickly began to ascend a barren
range of hills, abounding in greenstone trap-rock and zoolites, from
the summit of which there is a magnificent view of the whole
surrounding country, with glimpses of the cloud-capped summits of the
neighboring islands. Beautiful little valleys, dotted with the
sod-covered huts of the shepherds and fishermen, sweep down to the
water's edge a thousand feet below; weird black bogs, and fields of
scoria and burned earth, lie on the slopes of the distant hills to the
right; and to the left are rugged cliffs, jutting out of the sea like
huge castles, around which myriads of birds continually hover,
piercing the air with their wild screams. The wind blew in such fierce
gusts over the bleak and desolate range of crags on which I stood that
I was glad enough to seek shelter down on the leeside.
It now occurred to me to go in search of a ruined church of which I
had read in some traveler's journal said to be within four or five
miles of Thorshavn. Some artificial piles of stones, near the ledge
upon which I had descended, indicated the existence of a trail. On my
way down, a legion of birds, about the size of puffins, began to
gather around, with fierce cries and warning motions, as if determined
to dispute my progress. They flew backward and forward within a few
feet of my head, flapping their wings furiously, and uttering the most
terrific cries of rage and alarm, so that I was sorely puzzled to know
what was the matter. It was not long before I came upon some of their
nests, which of course explained the difficulty. Having no immediate
use for eggs or feathers, I left the nests unmolested and proceeded on
my way. In about an hour I came suddenly upon a small green valley
that lay some five hundred feet below, directly on the water's edge.
By some mischance I had lost the trail, and, in order to descend, was
obliged to slide and scramble down the cliffs--an experiment that I
presently discovered would probably cost me a broken neck if persisted
in; for when there seemed to be no farther obstruction, I came all at
once upon a precipice at least sixty feet deep, without a single
foothold or other means of descent than a clear jump to the bottom.
Not disposed to follow the example of Sam Patch on dry land, I
reluctantly turned back. By dint of scrambling and climbing, and
slipping down various cliffs and slopes, I at length reached a point
from which I had a view of some ruins and farm-houses still some
distance below. Following the line of the regular trail till it struck
into the cliffs, I had no farther difficulty in reaching the valley.
The good people at the farm-house--a family by the name of
Petersen--received me in the kindest manner, with many expressions of
wonder at the risk I had run in crossing the mountain without a guide.
It was with considerable difficulty we made ourselves understood. None
of the family spoke any language except their own. The son, indeed, a
fine young man of twenty, understood a few words of English, but that
was all. There is something, nevertheless, in genuine kindness and
hospitality that makes itself intelligible without the aid of language.
I was immediately invited into the house, and while young Petersen
entertained me with old prints and Faroese books, his mother prepared
an excellent lunch. Tired and worried after my trip, I could offer no
objection. Never shall I forget the coffee and cream, and the butter
and bread, and delicate fruit-tarts placed on the nice white
table-cloth by the good Mrs. Petersen. I ate and drank, and glowed all
over with a childlike relish of the good things, while the whole family
gathered round and tried to make me understand that they had a relative
in California, who lived in the mines at a place called Six-mile-bar,
and that they were glad to see a Californian, and wanted to know all
about California. It is wonderful with how few words we can communicate
our ideas when necessity compels us to depend upon our ingenuity.
Before I had parted from that family the whole matter was perfectly
explained; the history of their absent relative was quite clear to me,
and they had a very fair conception of the kind of country in which he
lived. Upon no consideration would they receive compensation for the
lunch, and they even seemed offended when I endeavored to press it upon
them. This, from people whom I had never seen before--a plain country
family living in a wilderness where such luxuries as sugar and coffee
could only be had at considerable expense--was absolutely refreshing.
For the first time since my arrival in Europe, after having traversed
the whole Continent, I had encountered a specimen of the human race
capable of refusing money. Subsequently I learned that this was the
common practice in the Faroe Islands. The poorest shepherd freely
offers to the stranger the hospitality of his hut; and it is a creed
among these worthy people not to accept pay for coffee and bread, or
indeed any thing else they may have to offer in the way of
entertainment. My fellow-passengers were similarly treated in
Thorshavn, where visitors are more frequent and the customs of the
country less primitive.
[Illustration: KIRK GOBOE.]
The great object of interest at Kirk Goboe is the ancient church, from
which the place derives its name; a long, low stone building,
whitewashed and covered with a sod roof, but, owing to repeated
repairs, now presenting no particular traces of antiquity, although
reported to have been built in the eighth century. I have no data in
reference to this interesting relic, and am not aware that
antiquarians have ever attempted to trace out its origin. The
probability is that it was built by some of those Culdee anchorites of
whom Dasent speaks as the first settlers of Iceland.
The interior of the church contains an altar, and some wooden carvings
on the head-boards of the pews, evidently of great antiquity. It is
impossible to conjecture from their appearance whether they are five
hundred or a thousand years old--at least without more research than a
casual tourist can bestow upon them.
There is also within a few steps of the farm-house a much larger and
more picturesque ruin of a church, built in a later style of
architecture. The only information I could get about this ruin was
that it dates back as far as the fifteenth century. The walls are of
rough stone well put together, and now stand roofless and
moss-covered, inhabited only by crows and swallows. The doors and
windows are in the Gothic style. A sketch made from the door of the
old church first mentioned, embracing the residence of the Petersen
family, with a glimpse of the cliffs and rugged ledges behind upon
which their flocks graze, will give the best idea of the whole
premises.
[Illustration: FARM-HOUSE AND RUINS.]
Having thus pleasantly occupied a few hours at Kirk Goboe, I bade
adieu to the worthy family who had so hospitably entertained me, and
was about to set out for Thorshavn, when young Petersen, not content
with the directions he had given me, announced his intention of seeing
me safe over the mountain. In vain I assured him that, however
pleasant his company would be, I had no apprehension of losing the way
this time. Go he would, and go he did; and when we parted on the top
of the mountain, in plain sight of Thorshavn, he cordially shook me by
the hand, and said many kind words, which I could only interpret to
mean that he and all his kith and kin wished me a pleasant voyage to
Iceland, and many years of health and happiness.
When I now recall the fine, intelligent face of this young man, his
bright dark eyes, healthy complexion, and strong, well-knit frame, the
latent energy in all his movements, the genial simplicity of his
manners, and his evident thirst for knowledge, I can not help feeling
something akin to regret that so much good material should be wasted
in the obscurity of a shepherd's life. So gifted by nature, what might
not such a youth achieve in an appropriate sphere of action? And yet,
perhaps, it is better for him that he should spend his life among the
barren cliffs of Stromoe, with no more companions than his dog and his
sheep, than jostle among men in the great outer world, to learn at
last the bitter lesson that the eye is not satisfied with riches, nor
the understanding with knowledge.
On the way down to the Valley of Thorshavn I met a man mounted on a
shaggy little monster, which in almost any other country would have
been mistaken for a species of sheep. As this was a fair specimen of a
Faroese horse and his rider, I sat down on a rock after they had
passed and took the best view of them I could get.
Late in the afternoon the scattered passengers were gathered together,
and the good people of Thorshavn came down to the wharf to bid us
farewell. In half an hour more we were all on board. "Up anchor!" was
the order, and once more we went steaming on our way.
Short as our sojourn had been among these primitive people, it
furnished us with many pleasant reminiscences. Their genial
hospitality and simple good-nature, together with their utter
ignorance of the outer world, formed the theme of various amusing
anecdotes during the remainder of the passage. Favored by a southerly
wind and a stock of good coal, we made the southeastern point of
Iceland in a little over two days from Thorshavn.
[Illustration: FAROESE ON HORSEBACK.]