DIE DREI ZIGEUNER.
“Drei zigeuner fand ich einmal
Liegen an einer Weide,
Als mein Fuhrwerk mit müder Qual
Schlick durch sandige Haide.
Hielt der eine für sich allein
In der Handen die Fiedel,
Spielte umglüht vom Abendschein,
Sich ein feuriges Liedel.”
LENAU.
THE THREE GIPSIES.
“Once three gipsies did I behold;
In a meadow they lay,
As my carriage heavily rolled
Over the sandy way.
“In his hands, as he sat alone,
Fiddle and bow held one,
Playing an air with fiery tone,
In the glow of the evening sun.”
ALFRED BASKERVILLE.
COLONEL SINCLAIR--QVAM CHURCH--DEATH OF SINCLAIR--MONSIEUR LE
CAPITAINE--THE HIGHFLYER--THE HEDALS--ROMANTIC LEGEND--ANTIQUE
MANSION--THE KRINGELEN--KIND RECEPTION--WARM WELCOME--THE BROKEN
TENT-POLE--THE REINDEER HUNTER--THE RUDANE FJELDE--GIPSY-LOOKING
WOMAN--MORE FISH--CHIROMANCY--ESMERALDA’S FORTUNE--THE HANDSOME
CAPTAIN--HIS SPORTING ADVENTURE--ESMERALDA’S GIFT--OUR SOIRÉE
DANSANTE--GIPSIES’ GLEE.
The next morning was fine, but dull. We were up at half-past 1 o’clock,
and decided to try the artificial minnow. The trout we had seen the day
previous served up for the captain’s dinner no doubt occasioned the
resolution.
The Logan was close at hand. Esmeralda’s soup was warmed up for frokost.
Our things were afterwards all carried down into the main road. Noah
went for the donkeys to load them, and we fished along the Logan to
Qvam. How still and quiet all appeared at Storklevestad, Viig, and Qvam!
Not a soul stirring! As we fished towards Qvam, we saw inscribed on a
large stone on the road side near the river--
Her blev Skotternes anfœrer
George Sinclair
Begraven efterat
Han var falden
ved Kringelen den
26 August,
1812.[48]
Our fishing resulted in the loss of our artificial minnow, no sport, and
we put up our tackle. The Qvam churchyard on the right of the road was
near us. Our party had not come up. Then we strolled round the church
which, as usual, was built of wood, with very large porches. Flowers had
been placed on one grave. It is here that Col. George Sinclair is
buried. In 1812, Col. Sinclair landed on a farm near Veblungsnœs, in
Romsdalen, in command of nine hundred Scotch troops. They marched
towards Sweden to aid Gustavus Adolphus against Christian IV. King of
Denmark.
At a hill called the Kringelen, beyond Qvam, near Solheim, the peasants
rolled down large quantities of rocks on his troops, who were either
crushed to death, drowned in the river below, or killed by the peasants
who attacked them when in disorder. Only two are said to have survived.
We have never seen any minute particulars of the tragic end of this
military expedition. It is said that a young lady, hearing that one of
her own sex was with the Scotch, sent her lover for her protection.
Unfortunately, as he approached, Mrs. Sinclair mistook his object, and
shot him dead.
The other Scotch and Dutch troops, who landed at Thronjhem, reached
Stockholm, and helped the Swedish King to conclude advantageous terms of
peace. What became of Mrs. Sinclair, we do not know; or where the Scotch
soldiers were buried. The colonel seems to have been a bold and daring
man. The Norwegian peasants gave their enemy a quiet resting place in
the pleasant churchyard of Qvam, and his melancholy history is another
illustration of the uncertainty of human hope.
Soon after 6 o’clock Noah, Zachariah, and Esmeralda came up with the
donkeys. Noah was limping along very lame. In taking one of the donkeys
to be loaded, the animal slipped over a rock and fell across his leg.
Noah walked with difficulty, and was very sleepy--in fact, when we had
left Qvam, and the sun became warm, we could scarcely keep our eyes open
as we pushed on along the road as fast as we could for several miles.
At a turn of the road, some distance from Qvam, we saw a number of men
without uniform marching towards us. Zachariah was at first rather
frightened. The men advancing took up nearly the whole of the road.
Our friend, Monsieur le Capitaine, was marching at the head of his men,
who were going to their periodical militia training. We were looking out
to see which side the road to take, when Monsieur le Capitaine opened
out his men right and left, and we passed through their centre, which
afforded them ample opportunity of observing our cavalcade.
“Bon jour, Monsieur Smith,” said the Captain; “pleasant journey.”
We also wished him “bon jour,” and with mutual salutations each passed
on our different routes.
They were a very fine body of men--an army of such men, properly
handled, need not fear any other soldiers on equal terms. Had the
opportunity permitted, we should have enjoyed a visit to one of their
militia camps.
It was very warm. Zachariah played his violin along the road in advance;
Esmeralda and Noah were very sleepy and tired, and we were not
disinclined for a halt. For some time we could not meet with a
convenient resting-place; at last we came to a delightful valley. There
was the open macadamised space on the roadside, with wooden bench
considerately placed for the convenience of travellers. The same
accommodation might with advantage be adopted in England. Then there was
a small space of broken greensward, sloping from the road, where we
could light our fire. A large bondegaard below, near the River Logan,
gave us the impression of contentment and comfort. It was a charming
valley.
As we came up to the wooden seat we observed a curious-looking man, who
the gipsies said was some travelling “Highflyer.” The man was reclining
on the the open patch of greensward near the seat; his wallet was beside
him, and he was smoking his pipe--who knows? he was probably
experiencing more enjoyment than the most wealthy millionaire.
The donkeys were soon unloaded. Noah went down to get some water at the
farmhouse, and shortly returned with the “vand” (Nor., water). A woman
and a boy brought up some grass for the donkeys, and she afterwards
offered us the use of some rough ground above the road for the donkeys
to graze in. The offer was accepted, for the herbage was very scanty on
the roadside. Our water was soon boiled, and we had tea, bacon, and
bread. Taking out the packet of tobacco given up by Noah, we gave some
to the Highflyer. It is not surprising that Noah was reluctant to part
with it. Printed on the outside of the packet we observed the
following--
Petum optimum supter solem,
De beste Tobac onder de Son;
Der beste Toback under solen
Af C. Andersen,
Lillehammer.
The Highflyer seemed much pleased. The sun was exceedingly warm, and,
placing some rugs in the scanty shade of some rocks on the opposite side
of the road, Esmeralda fell asleep. The woman brought us some milk, and,
finding it impossible to write, we gave way to inclination and indulged
in a good sleep. Noah and Zachariah went to the river fishing, and
Zachariah caught four not very large trout. Then we woke up and worked
at our notes.
A young farmer, a fine young fellow, his wife, and son and daughter,
came up. The young farmer had been at our camp near “Storklevstad”; they
brought up fresh grass, and were very attentive. The “Hedals” rose
above us, with snow still remaining on the higher ridges.
Not so very far from this point, across the mountains, is the
“Ridderspranget” (the Knight’s Leap). Tradition says that a knight of
Valders wooed a young lady of Lom. The friends did not favour the
lovers’ wish. The knight, at last, mounted on a swift horse, carried the
lady off, and, being closely pursued by the friends, jumped a wide
chasm, and escaped with the girl of Lom, for whom he had risked so much.
The spot, which is between two lakes, still goes by the name of the
“Ridderspranget.”
Esmeralda, probably owing to the heat, did not feel well. Before we
left, Noah and Zachariah played for the people of the bondegaard, who
had been so attentive, several tunes with the violin and tambourine. The
Highflyer went towards Qvam.
At 3 o’clock--having presented the good woman with a mark, and the
children with three skillings each--as they gave us their kindly wishes,
we again continued our way. Noah had added four more trout to our stock,
so that we had now eight fish for the evening’s meal. We were all very
sleepy, but kept on with much perseverance. Zachariah, who rode on one
of the donkeys, fell asleep and his hat fell off, and then he dropped
his violin in the road, but both were picked up. After we had passed
Dengarden--so we made out the name--Noah was so sleepy that he became a
straggler; his legs almost refused to serve him, and we at last lost
sight of him at a turn in the road.
A very interesting house on the roadside attracted our attention. We
understood the name was Nusamberg; it had the appearance of an old
mansion. Though constructed of wood, its massive timbers gave it
structural solidity; extensive granaries and outbuildings surrounded the
house, and one portion of building was surmounted by a kind of cupola
with a large bell. If it had been in England we should have taken it for
an old manor house.
Noah did not overtake us, and we went back, expecting that he had fallen
asleep on the roadside; at last we saw him in the distance, walking
slowly along, with difficulty getting one leg before the other.
As we came in sight of “Breden,” which stands near a lake, our party
were at once perceived. A boat pushed off in hot haste across the lake
with a number of peasants to see us. When we entered the small village
of houses grouped on either side the road, great was the excitement.
People ran hastily up to see our donkeys; a pony in a “stolkjœrre,” or
light cart, turned restive, and occasioned much confusion. Our donkeys
ran against one another, and our things becoming entangled, the packs
were nearly pulled to the ground.
At last, when we were clear of the village, Noah and Zachariah were sent
to a landhandelri[49] to buy butter and bread. The young man at the shop
had been at our camp at Qvam. They could only get fladbröd and butter.
The steeps of the Kringelen, memorable for the destruction of Col.
Sinclair and his soldiers, were passed. The spot had been well selected
by the Norwegians. Then we came in sight of Sels. Having risen early, we
were all tired and hungry. At this juncture, seeing a woman driving some
cows from the road, we asked to camp on some rough broken ground above
the house. A quiet spot was selected, where, undisturbed by visitors,
our tents were pitched. Looking down upon the narrow valley, it was
delightful to enjoy the repose of a quiet evening. Few were permitted to
come near our tents. Our donkeys had, as usual, their admirers, but they
were few and select. The woman brought us a bowl of milk whilst we were
at tea.
We were up at seven o’clock next morning. After a quiet breakfast,
Zachariah caught four trout in the river. Giving these kind, homely
people some music and two marks, our party left Sels in the distance.
The scenery during the morning was very picturesque, and coming to a
portion of newly-made road we halted in a recess of broken ground at the
bottom of a wooded hill, near a log cottage. One of our gipsies went to
the house for water, and the woman kindly offered to boil it, but this
we did not require.
As we were taking our lunch we became the subject of much interest to
the road men and some boys; to some of the men we gave tobacco. After
the meal our gipsies played their music, whilst we lounged, looking at
the beautiful scene before us. The road men appeared to enjoy themselves
quite as much as we did--they sat on the roadside, smoking their pipes
and listening.
It was not long before we were _en route_, and being still in sight of
the river Noah and Zachariah were sent to fish. Esmeralda and myself
made the best of the way with the donkeys towards Laurgaard. Great
improvements were being made upon this part of the road; in some places
the road was diverted and the distance shortened--sometimes we had to
change from the old road to newly made portions, and then back to the
old road not yet altered. At every place the peasants flocked out to
see us. One place we especially remember as being near a wild gorge
leading to the mountains from the valley. An old man gave us such a
kindly hearty welcome to his land that we presented him with some
tobacco.
In passing a narrow part of the old road one of our donkeys ran against
the Puru Rawnee, and the baggage becoming entangled my tent pole was
broken through. It was very annoying. At last we came in sight of the
Laurgaard. A peasant who had walked with us some little distance, and
who seemed desirous to aid us as much as possible, was asked if we could
find a camping-ground on the other side Laurgaard. He shook his head.
We had just passed some picturesque rocks; the river Logan was on our
left, the rocky slopes of the mountain on our right. Our peasant pointed
to what appeared to have been an old road, now disused, a short distance
above us along the hill side. The old roadway formed an admirable
terrace of flat ground for our tents. Our donkeys soon struggled through
the bushes and broken rocks to the spot we selected, and were then
unloaded. Several peasants appeared at the place, and also a Norwegian
officer. Our first care, as the gipsies unloaded our things, was to
splice our tent pole, which we did with a flat piece of wood we had
found _en route_, and some waxed string carried with us. Our proceedings
were observed with great interest as we pitched our tents. The visitors
increased, and we promised to give them some music for dancing after we
had finished our tea. Immediately after tea, as the peasants assembled
at close of eve, our guitar, violin, tambourine, and castinets broke
the stillness of the Norwegian valley. On this occasion we had two beaux
of the village instead of one. The old road being level was well adapted
for dancing. There were several peasant girls, whose quiet and modest
manners were very pleasing. One beau was a light haired young man who
borrowed a friend’s shoes to dance in. The other beau was a slim-slam,
away-with-care sort of young fellow, who had the appearance of “un vrai
chasseur,” an intrepid reindeer hunter. He was a good-looking fellow,
carried hard sinew and muscle, well-proportioned, moderately tall and
strongly knit, wiry and active, wore very large capacious trousers, and
strong Wellington boots. A hunting knife hung by his side, and a
close-fitting shirt and small cap lightly stuck on his head completed
his attire. He held himself very erect, and danced in a stiff, jerky,
jaunty style. We had the usual complement of children, in many and
various kinds of tattered garments. The peasants seemed to enjoy
themselves. Esmeralda danced with her brother, and we also took her for
partner; but the half-hour is ended, our visitors leave as the rain
commences. We had very heavy rain in the night.
Ourself and the gipsies were up at 4 o’clock, and went fishing. The
river Logan near our camp was interspersed with pools and shallows, and
appeared very likely in appearance for fish. The bridge at Laurgaard is
said to be 1000 English feet above the level of the sea. We must confess
that Noah and ourself returned without fish to breakfast. Directly the
meal was concluded Noah and Zachariah were dispatched to the river
again. A fine-looking old man came to see our tent after breakfast. He
wore a red cap, and said he was a great fisherman. We found him full of
information. His sæter was on the Rudane Fjeld, where he said there were
many reindeer; in summer the weather was beautiful. The old man came
often during the day, and we bought some trout from him, and also from
several peasant boys, who immediately they caught a fish brought it up
to our tents.
In the read below we noticed a curious dark little woman accompanied by
a middle-aged man, a tall young woman without shoes or stockings, and
two young boys. They carried their effects apparently for sleeping and
cooking. Directly they saw the donkeys they came towards our camp. The
boys tried to touch our donkeys, but the young woman held them back, and
one was smartly cuffed. When the elder woman reached our tents we at
first thought she was a gipsy. Her complexion was very dark, and she had
black hair; she had pleasing manners, but in person she was very short,
with small hands and feet, and a peculiar redness round the eyes, as if
from smoke. Esmeralda tried her in Romany, but she could not speak it.
She was very probably a Lap. The others of her party seemed to hold her
in great respect. She carried a courier bag suspended to a girdle,
exactly similar to the one we bought in the Valders, and of which an
engraving is given in this book. We gave her some brandy and the man
some tobacco, upon which she opened her bag, and in the politest manner
possible, offered us two skillings, which we did not accept. Every now
and then as she looked at our tents and then at the donkeys grazing
near, she smiled and bowed in an ecstasy of pleasure, raising her hands
often, saying “_Nei, nei!!_” in a sweet plaintive voice. Esmeralda asked
if she told fortunes, and she said yes. It is probable that she did not
understand the question. She offered to sell Esmeralda a ring, but she
did not require it. As they left they lingered again near the donkeys.
The old lady seemed in raptures with them. One of the boys again made a
sudden attempt to touch one, and was dragged away by the younger woman
as if his life was in jeopardy.
They at length left and slowly disappeared through the rocks at a turn
in the road beyond the camp. Noah and Zachariah caught several fish
during the morning. The fish were fried for dinner with the usual
accompaniment of tea. We scarcely knew whether we dined early or late,
both meals were so much the same. From time to time travellers passing
along the road suddenly pulled up when they saw our tents and donkeys,
and getting down slowly made their way up to our camp. The donkeys
seemed, as usual, to excite a wonderful amount of interest.
We had finished our mid-day’s meal. Noah and Zachariah had gone to the
river to fish. Esmeralda and myself were sitting in our tents; the gipsy
girl was occasionally rockering Romany whilst we wrote our notes. Then
the thought occurred to her that we should tell her fortune.
“Your fortune must be a good one,” said we, laughing.
“Let me see your hand, young woman, and your lines of life.”
We shall never forget Esmeralda. She looked so earnestly as we regarded
attentively the lines of her open hand. Then we took her step by step
through some scenes of her supposed future. We did not tell all. The
rest was reserved for another day. There was a serious look on her
countenance as we ended, but reader, such secrets should not be
revealed--say what we will the hand carries the same language as those
thoughtful lines on your face, or the conformation of your head. It is
not all who can interpret them. Though we do not believe in chiromancy
and ghosts, how many in the world do. We do not say such things are
impossible; there are warnings, forebodings, and presentiments at times
too strong to be doubted. There are curious facts noted which cast
singular light upon these links between two worlds. Instances of spirit
travel are given. The open pages of nature reveal strange things. Pliny,
Scott, Byron, Johnson, Wesley, and Baxter[50], seem to have been imbued
with some belief in the supernatural. We know not what it is; we call it
superstition. When we express our unbelief, somehow there is often an
inward consciousness to belie our words. Surrounded by much that is
false, there may be some reality. We halt on the threshold of
indecision. One thing is certain, there is a dark mysterious veil across
man’s future in this world. Will it profit him to raise its folds? We
think not.
Esmeralda commenced to tell our fortune; we were interested to know what
she would say. We cast ourself on the waves of fate. The gipsy girl
raised her dark eyes from our hand as she looked us earnestly in the
face.
“You are a young gentleman of good connections; many lands you have
seen; but, young man, something tells me you be of a wavering
disposition.”
We looked up, and a Norwegian peasant stood close by; we had not heard
him approach. He was at the entrance of our tents in puzzled
contemplation; we lost the remainder of our fortune.
Not very long afterwards, we were sitting in our tent, when Esmeralda,
who was looking out, said, a “Boro Rye’s a vellin.” We went out; an
English officer was coming to our tents; he was travelling from
Throndjhem to Christiania. His name was one of a family renowned in
Scottish history. Our visitor was very good-looking, and seemed much
interested in our camp. Seeing our tents from the read, he came up to
inspect them; a heavy shower of rain coming on, he accepted our shelter,
and reclined in our tent with Esmeralda and ourselves. The carriole
driver sat at the entrance. Our visitor informed us that a friend and
himself had been out with a pony, tent and provisions, upon a fishing
expedition, on the Tana. It did not appear that he remained long with
his tent, for we understood him that his friend had been unwell and they
soon returned. The country of the Tana seemed to please him very much.
We gave our visitor some results of our practical experience in
camping, as he sat waiting for the rain to cease; in truth, he seemed in
no hurry to continue his journey. One of our gipsy songs was presented
to him as a souvenir of his visit; then we purchased some trout from the
Skydskarl, for one mark, eighteen skillings, very fine ones they were,
and had been caught in a lake. Esmeralda presented the captain with a
“pinthorn,” used to fasten the blankets of our tents. This present,
which he told Esmeralda he should keep, was placed carefully in his
pocket-case. In making the expedition to the Tana he had taken out a
tent from Throndjhem with a pole in the middle and pieces stretching out
from centre.
Our gipsy tents were carefully inspected, then our waterproofs, pockets,
bags, and other things. The method of pitching our tents was explained.
Before he went he gave us a bottle of brandy which he did not want, and
promised to inquire if anything had been heard of our lost caps. His
driver, we thought, was under the impression that the captain would take
up his residence with us. Noah came up as our visitor was leaving. The
rain cleared off, and, wishing us good-by, he was soon driving rapidly
towards Christiania. Our visitors continued, successively, until tea
time. For our tea, we had more fried trout. An old man brought us a
quantity of fladbröd and butter, for which we paid tenpence. Wire was
procured at Laurgaard to suspend our boiling-can and kettle over the
fire. The loss of our kettle-prop put us to much inconvenience. At eight
o’clock, the peasants, notwithstanding the rain, came to our camp for
dancing; fortunately, the rain ceased, and they seemed to enjoy
themselves very much. One tall, powerful, middle-aged peasant, who came
with our visitors, was very fond of dancing. He was, apparently, the
respectable owner of a gaard in the neighbourhood. Though very anxious
for Esmeralda to dance with him, she would only dance with ourself or
Noah. Then he asked us to dance with one of the young peasant girls,
probably, a daughter, or some relation, which we did. She was the best
dancer; a very good type of the Norwegian peasant-girl, tall, quiet,
modest, and good-looking; we found her an excellent partner. Our beaux
of the village kept up the dancing and the gipsies their music. “Lend me
your shoes” must have put his friend to some expense for repairs, and
“Slim-slam,” the reindeer-hunter, nobly did his duty. We were almost
bewildered at times. It was hard work to control the exuberant spirits
of our gipsies. The amount of Romany chaff was something extraordinary.
Fortunately, our visitors did not understand it, nor do we think the
gipsies understood much of it themselves. Their gaiety knew no bounds.
Esmeralda once laughed loud enough to frighten the reindeer from the
Rudane Fjeld. She had more than one severe doing, as she called it,
during the evening.