editor of the “Thióthólfr,” a Reykjavik newspaper—a quarto sheet of 8
pp.—in which, along with other news, the proceedings of the althing now
sitting are reported in a condensed form. No particular time is fixed
for publication, so that it appears at irregular intervals when there is
news to communicate. Mr. Gudmundsson is an advocate, and holds an
official appointment in the althing. He presented us with several
numbers of his paper. The type is clear and the paper good, so that it
and another Reykjavik newspaper the “Islendingur,” a folio of 8
pp.,—both printed at the same government office—are without exception
the most beautifully printed newspapers I ever saw anywhere.
In Mr. Gudmundsson’s house we saw medallions of Finn Magnusen, Finnsen,
and other distinguished Icelanders. He was exceedingly polite and
courteous, but, as we knew he must be much occupied at present, we made
our visit a short one.
We then saw Dr. Hjaltalin, chief physician of the island, and well known
for his antiquarian and scientific acquirements. He and Rector Jonson
are good, tall, portly specimens of humanity. The latter good-naturedly
told me that when some one called him a John Bull, although he did not
quite understand the phrase, he knew that it somehow associated him with
England, and, for that reason, felt “flattered—very much flattered!”
Our friends returned while we were making calls, and describe their
moonlight ride of thirty miles to Krisuvik as more like a wild dream of
chaos than a reality. Their path lay among lava chasms, along the tops
of narrow lava ridges, irregularly jugged like a saw; through huge lava
blocks, like ten thousand Stonehenges huddled together; over volcanic
sand and cinder heaps; over hollow lava domes, and through great burst
lava bubbles, or extinct craters. Lava everywhere, parts seemed like a
troubled sea which had been suddenly spelled into stone, and then
roasted, baked and cracked. This scene has been aptly characterized by
an old traveller as “a congealed pandemonium.” In a boggy valley were
seen several boiling mud-caldrons, which exhale sulphurious fumes. These
gases condense in the atmosphere and deposit a crust of sulphur, in
layers of various thickness, on the coloured clay banks on the side of
the hill. Many jets of steam and smoke rose around; while on their right
lay the lovely blue lake of Kleifervatn. Mr. Bushby had kindly furnished
them with a letter to his agent, which procured for them such shelter
and creature comforts as his iron house could afford.
It was now about 9 o’clock; and, not without sincere regret, on pushing
off from the shore, did we bid adieu to those kind-hearted, learned, yet
simple-minded gentlemen at Reykjavik, who had done so much to make our
visit to their island a pleasant one.
While some ponies were being taken on board from a large boat alongside,
the steam was suddenly blown off; the noise frightening them, one jumped
into the sea and swam ashore, a distance of a mile, with a boat after
it. However it was got on board again, none the worse for its adventure.
It turned out to be a pony which Mr. Murray had purchased, and was
taking south with him to Long-yester.
Mr. Brynjúlfsson had accompanied me to the steamer, and, before
starting, Mr. Arnason also came on board to bid us another adieu!
[Illustration]
-----
Footnote 14:
See note at foot of page 65.
Footnote 15:
Alluding to the old Icelandic female head-dress which is now again
being introduced—See illustration p. 68.
Footnote 16:
See illustration at p. 53.
Footnote 17:
Hassel, vol. 10. p. 231-233. Mackenzie, p. 312-323. Henderson, vol. 1.
p. xxvi. Barrow, pp. 293-305. Iceland, Greenland, and the Faröe
Islands, pp. 209-10.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: ORÆFA JÖKUL, THE HIGHEST MOUNTAIN IN ICELAND.]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
JÖKUL-RANGES AND VOLCANOES ON THE SOUTH COAST.
At ten o’clock P.M., _August 3_, the anchor was heaved and we sailed for
the east of the island.
The bay at Reykjavik is very lovely. Every crevice of the Essian
mountains is distinctly shown; while the positive colours and delicate
tints of these and other heights rising far inland, which the eye takes
in, in sweeping round the semicircle from Snæfell to Skagi, are bright,
varied, and beautiful beyond description. Deep indigoes dashed with
purple, violet peaks, pale lilac ranges; and, relieved against them,
cones of dazzling snow and ice glittering like silver, side by side with
rosy pinks and warm sunny browns, all rising over a foreground of black
lava. The sky overhead is blue; and the northern horizon lit up with a
mellow glow of golden light.
The frigate _Artemise_, the brig _Agile_, the Danish schooner _Emma_,
and several trading vessels lying at anchor, animate the scene.
Snæfell Jökul—rising to the north-west on the extreme of yonder narrow
ridge that runs out due west into the sea for nearly fifty miles,
separating the Faxa from the Breida fiord—dome-shaped, isolated and
perpetually covered with snow, is now touched with living rosy light.
At its foot lie the singular basaltic rocks of Stappen, somewhat like
the Giant’s Causeway, or the island of Staffa in the Hebrides. Indeed,
stapp is the same word as staff, and indicates the character of the
columnar formation.
[Illustration: SNÆFELL JÖKUL—FROM FIFTY MILES AT SEA.]
For the first time, since leaving home, we see the stars. One or two,
only, are shining in the quivering blue overhead, with a quiet, subdued,
pale golden light. I made a sketch of Snæfell as it appeared from the
quarter deck of the steamer at a distance of fifty miles; it seemed a
low cone rising from the sea. As the evening was calm and beautiful, ere
retiring, we walked the deck till a late hour, musing on the structure
and marvellous phenomena of this half-formed chaotic island, where Frost
and Fire still strive for the mastery before our very eyes.
_August 4._—On getting upon deck, I found we were past Cape Reykjanes,
and making for the Westmanna Islands. Eldey—the rock like a
meal-sack—lies, in the distance, far astern.
My place at table is between Dr. Mackinlay and Mr. Haycock, the latter
being next the chairman Rector Jonson who is going to Copenhagen; Mr.
Murray, Mr. Cleghorn, Professor Chadbourne and Dr. Livingston sit
opposite. The Danes are all congregated at the other end of the table
with the captain.
Half-past three P.M. Saw Eyafialla Jökul, and Godalands Jökul, Myrdals
Jökul, and Kötlugjá. These form part of the most southern range of
snow-mountains in the island, and rise distinctly over a dark greenish
and purple range of hills, away to the east on our port bow. Eyafialla
is the second highest mountain in Iceland, being next in height to Oræfa
Jökul. It has a distinct crater. Only one violent eruption, that of A.D.
1612, is recorded previous to A.D. 1821. “But on the night between the
20th and 21st December, of that year, the lofty Eyafialla Jökul, of
which the movement of A.D. 1612, was the only one formerly known, burst
its icy covering, and began to cast out ashes, stones, and dust,
accompanied with a strong flame. It continued till January throwing out
great quantities of pumice ashes, which covered all the surrounding
fields; and in February 1822, a lofty pillar of smoke still rose from
the crater. In June of the following year it again began to burn, and on
the 26th of the same month, destroyed a part of the adjacent land; but
after pouring out some streams of water, in the beginning of July, it
was once more quiet. In this month also the Kötlugjá, after sixty-eight
years repose, threw out sand and ashes, covering nearly one hundred
square miles of ground.”[18]
Kötlugjá—the gjá, fissure, or chasm of Kötlu—is not a separate mountain
with a crater, but simply a yawning rent, so large as to resemble an
extensive valley, situated on the north-west shoulder of Myrdals-Jökul,
which is a lofty ice-mountain. From its inaccessibility it has never
been explored, having been only examined from a distance. The rent is
visible from the sea.
Records of volcanic eruptions occurring throughout the island have, in
general, been carefully kept by the Icelanders from the earliest times;
but in this case, from the proximity of numerous other volcanic vents,
and the distance of the spectators, along with the long continued and
intermittent nature of single eruptions—sometimes lasting for
years—there appears to be some confusion in the various accounts, which
renders it difficult to reckon the number of
KÖTLUGJÁ’S ERUPTIONS.
The first outbreak, which, by the way, is the earliest recorded date of
an eruption in the island—being before Eldborg to which that honour is
usually assigned—occurred in the year A.D. 894, and the last in A.D.
1823.[19] The number of them during that period is reckoned by the best
authorities at fourteen, the longest interval between two eruptions
being 311 years, and the shortest 6. As its devastations have only been
less terrible than those of Skaptár, we shall now, after presenting a
concise table of dates, glance at the various eruptions of Kötlugjá,
extracting or briefly condensing from reliable sources, dwelling more
particularly on those of A.D. 1625, and 1755, two of the most fearful
and destructive.
For the table, and the collecting of many of the facts and paragraphs
which follow relating to Kötlugjá, I am indebted to my friend Dr. Lauder
Lindsay.
1st eruption A.D. 894. Interval since previous eruption.
2d ” 934. ” ” 40 years.
3d ” 1245. ” ” [20]311 ”
4th ” 1262. ” ” 17 ”
5th ” 1311. ” ” 49 ”
6th ” 1416. ” ” 105 ”
7th ” 1580. ” ” 164 ”
8th ” 1612. ” ” 32 ”
9th ” 1625. ” ” 13 ”
10th ” 1660. ” ” 35 ”
11th ” 1721. ” ” 61 ”
12th ” 1727. ” ” [21]6 ”
13th ” [22]1755. ” ” 28 ”
14th ” 1823. ” ” 68 ”
The first eruption, in A.D. 894, destroyed the pasture lands between the
hill called Hafrsey, and the Holmsá river. Eight farms were abandoned,
and the district of country in question is still almost entirely a sandy
desert.
The second, A.D. 934, was also a formidable one, and formed the
extensive sandy desert now known as the Solheima-sand, a tract about
twenty miles long; and formed altogether of volcanic sand, ashes, or
lapilli, and pumice.
The third, in A.D. 1245, covered a tract of country, though of what
extent we are not informed, with sand and ashes to the depth of six or
eight inches.
The fourth, A.D. 1262, or, according to some writers, 1263, was attended
by such an ejection of dust and ashes, that the sun could not be seen at
mid-day in serene weather. During this eruption, the large river called
Fulilækr, the Jökulsá—or Jökul river—which divides the Skoga-sand from
the Solheima-sand, suddenly made its appearance.
The fifth, in A.D. 1311 (some say 1332), appears to have been more
destructive to life than any of the previous ones. Many farms were
destroyed in the district called Myrdals-sand; several sand-hills and
other hills were formed, and several marshes sprang into existence. It
vomited ashes and sand during the greater part of the winter, and,
melting the ice about the crater, the inhabited tract in the vicinity
was inundated, and all the inhabitants except two perished in the flood.
Another account states that this eruption was known as “_Sturluhlaup_,”
from only _one man_ of the name of Sturla having been saved, of those
overwhelmed by the volcanic ejections.
The sixth, A.D. 1416. The lava or water-floods took the direction of
Hjörleifshöfdi, an isolated hill and promontory on the coast of the
Myrdals-sand, considerably to the south-east of Kötlugjá.
The seventh, A.D. 1580. During this eruption it is stated that Myrdals
Jökul was rent asunder, and as the name Kötlugjá is now first given to
the crater or fissure of eruption, it is probable that at this date the
chasm was first recognised or discovered, if not formed. This eruption
was characterized by fire, darkness, and a rain of ashes, as well as by
water-floods; one of which latter went eastward toward the monastery of
Thyckvaboe, and another southward to Myrdal. Many farms were destroyed,
but there appears to have been no loss of human life.
The eighth, in 1612, was attended, it is conjectured, by a subsidence to
some extent of the Fall-Jökul, which is situated between Eyafialla and
Myrdals Jökul, as well as of the lower lands between Langanes and
Thorsmerkr. The accompanying fire was such, that the eruption was
visible extensively in the north of Iceland.
The ninth, in A.D. 1625, was “one of the grandest and most devastating
eruptions of Kötlugjá that has ever occurred.” Its historian is
Thorsteinn Magnússon, at the time sysselman or sheriff of
Skaptafells-syssel (or district), who lived in the monastery of
Thyckvaboe. His account was published in Copenhagen in A.D. 1627.
According to him, ‘at daybreak on the second of September it began to
thunder in the Jökul; and about 8 o’clock A.M. floods of water and ice
were poured down upon the low country, and carried away upwards of 200
loads of hay[23] which lay in the fields about Thyckvaboe. These floods
continued to be poured forth like a raging sea till past one o’clock in
the afternoon, when they gradually diminished, but were succeeded by
terrible darkness, earthquakes, thunder, flames, and showers of sand.
Nor was it in the immediate vicinity of the crater alone that the fire
appeared, but down in the inhabited tract, at the distance of nearly
twenty miles from the mountain, igneous vapours were seen attaching
themselves to the clothes of the inhabitants. (?) This dreadful scene
continued, with little variation, till the 13th of the month. It was
frequently so clear at night that the mountains, with all their clefts
and divisions, were seen as distinctly at the distance of twenty miles
as they were in the clearest day. Sometimes the flames were pure as the
sun, sometimes they were red, and at others they discovered all the
colours of the rainbow. The lightenings were visible now in the air, and
now running over the surface of the ground; and _such as witnessed them
were more or less affected in such parts of their bodies as were
uncovered_. [!] These flashes were accompanied by the loudest claps of
thunder, and darted backwards and forwards; now to the ground, and now
into the air, dividing sometimes into separate bolts, each of which
appeared to be followed by a separate report; and after shooting in
different directions, they instantly collected again, when a dreadful
report was heard, and the igneous appearance fell like a waterspout to
the ground, and became invisible. While the showers of sand lasted, it
was frequently so dark in the day time that two individuals holding each
other by the hand could not discover each other’s face.’ Dr. Hjaltalin
states that the water-floods, bearing large masses of ice, ‘surrounded
the monastery of Thyckvaboe, with its adjacent farms, one of which was
overflowed by the stream; but the people saved themselves on a high
hill, where the flood could not reach them. The flood was followed by
such heavy shots and continual thunder, that the people thought the
heavens would burst to pieces, and they were surrounded with continual
flashes of lightning. The pasturages were so covered with ashes and
pumice, that cattle, horses, and sheep could not get any food, and were
seen running about in wild confusion. During the eruption such a
darkness prevailed sometimes that days were darker than nights; and it
is related that showers of ashes from this eruption reached the town of
Bergen in Norway, which is the greatest distance to which volcanic ashes
were ever thrown from Iceland.’ The account in the ‘Islendingur’ of June
16, p. 45, mentions further, that the mixed water and ice flood flowed
in cascades and waves over Myrdals-sand; that the inhabitants fled to
the heights for safety; that the depth of the water-flood, which
surrounded the monastery of Thyckvaboe, was such that a large
ocean-vessel might have sailed between the byres and the principal
building, and that there was an excessive falling of sand in the
district to the north-east of Kötlugjá, called the Skaptártunga. This
eruption thus lasted for about twelve days, wholly destroying many
farms, and partially destroying or rendering temporarily useless others.
The damage done was greatest in the low lands to east, north-east, and
south-east of Kötlugjá.
The tenth, A.D. 1660—commencing on 3d November—“appears scarcely to have
been less formidable than the preceding eruption. Water-floods
overwhelmed and destroyed the farm and church of Höfdabrekka, which
latter was cast into the sea immediately adjoining, apparently by an
earthquake-shock. Only such articles were saved from the building as
could, at the moment, be snatched away by the clergyman Jón Salamonsson.
The quantity of sand, ashes, and sulphur, thrown out and deposited on
the coast about Höfdabrekka was such, that what formerly was a depth of
twenty fathoms of sea water, became at once dry land. Such is the
account in the ‘Islendingur.’ Dr. Hjaltalin says the clouds of pumice,
ashes, and sand, rendered the atmosphere, in the vicinity of Kötlugjá,
very dark during nine days. Many farms were destroyed. Flames and ashes
were ejected during the greater part of winter. Henderson asserts, that
‘the quantity of ice, &c., carried down by the inundation, was so great,
that where it was deposited, it rose to the height of forty-nine fathoms
above the surface of the former depositions. The church of Höfdabrekka’
constructed wholly of wood, and of limited dimensions, ‘was observed to
swim among the masses of ice, to a considerable distance in the sea, ere
it fell to pieces.’ The volcano appears, with some intermission, to have
erupted sand the two following years.”
The eleventh, A.D. 1721, began at nine A.M. on the 11th May. Dr.
Hjaltalin says “the narrative of this eruption proceeds from certain of
the inhabitants of the _north of Iceland_, who observed the phenomena
from the distance of about 100 English miles! These distant witnesses,
state that the eruption was preceded by heavy shots, like shots of
artillery, lasting less or more for several days, and distinctly heard
by them in the north of the island. These sounds were followed by a
heavy fire—which expression seems translateable as _vivid flames_—also
visible at the great distance above named. The flames or fire were
followed by clouds of ashes, so dense and so extensive, as to have
produced complete darkness for some hours, at the remoteness of 80 or
100 miles.” “The ‘Islendingur’ refers to an earthquake chiefly felt in
Myrdal, but extending eastward to Lidu, and westward to Fljótshlíd.
About noon of the same day—11th May—the earth became fissured at various
points; loud sounds were heard, and lastly, flames, with steam or smoke,
were seen to issue from Kötlugjá. A water-flood now descended from the
volcano, bearing huge pieces of ice, resembling in bulk small islands;
which icebergs sailed along as rapidly as a ship in a good breeze. These
icebergs were borne by the flood from Höfdabrekka eastward to
Hjörleifshöfdi and Hafrsey. One village was destroyed in the east of the
Myrdals-sand district.” Again, Henderson states, p. 213,[24] the
“inundations lasted nearly three days, and carried along with them such
amazing quantities of ice, stones, earth, and sand, that the sea was
filled with them to the distance of three miles from the shore. The sun
was darkened by the smoke and ashes which were thrown into the air; sand
and pumice were blown over almost the whole island; and the ice and
water desolated a considerable tract of grass land, over which they
flowed.”
The twelfth, A.D. 1727, is believed to have been of little intensity or
importance.
The eruption which follows—the thirteenth, that of 1755—is the “most
celebrated of all the outbreaks of Kötlugjá, on account alike of its
grandeur, its duration, and its frightful results—an eruption which has
since caused Kötlugjá to be dreaded by the Icelanders as one of their
most dangerous volcanoes, if not their most dangerous one.” It began
about noon on the 17th of October, and “continued, with intermissions,
till 25th August 1756—its duration, therefore, being nearly a year. The
‘Islendingur’ gives a very short reference merely; but the accounts of
Dr. Hjaltalin and of Henderson are comparatively full. According to Dr.
Hjaltalin, the eruption was preceded by a series of earthquakes,
beginning in September; they were especially severe in the north-east of
Iceland, near Cape Langanes, about 150 or 180 miles distant from
Kötlugjá. In this district they overthrew several farms; and in a milder
degree they were felt over a considerable extent of country. The
eruption itself began at ten A.M. of 17th October, about a fortnight
prior to the earthquake which destroyed Lisbon. Vivid flames shot
towards the sky, accompanied by severe earthquakes, sounds like thunder,
and lightnings. The volcano was enveloped in smoke or steam; showers of
ashes and pumice fell constantly, while volcanic bombs were hurled high
into the air. The latter must have been of great size, for they were
seen bursting, and the accompanying detonating reports were heard at a
distance of upwards of a hundred miles. The days, it is said, were
darker than the nights; and the flames and bombs gave so unearthly a
character to the scene, that the poor inhabitants fancied that the day
of judgment had arrived, and that our globe was bursting into atoms.
Over large tracts of country, the soil was covered with sand and ashes
to a depth of two or three feet; cattle, horses, and sheep, consequently
died in great numbers. This devastation caused a famine and pestilence
among the inhabitants, who perished by the hundred. The eruption was
violent for fourteen days. The water-floods overflowed the district of
Myrdals-sand, which is about twenty miles long and sixteen broad. Five
parishes were more or less devastated, and fifty farms were destroyed.
These were the more local disasters; but, in addition to this, the sand
and ashes were spread over a great portion of the island, producing
fatal epidemics and epizöotics,[25] and it is said even the wild-fowl
fled from many parts of the island. The earthquakes were characterized
by distinct wave-like motions of the land, which fluctuated like an
agitated ocean, and the same earthquake-waves were propagated from the
coasts outward to sea, to the serious damage of the shipping.” Henderson
says—vol. 1. p. 314—“The inhabitants of the track about Kötlugjá were
first apprised of the impending catastrophe on the forenoon of the 17th
October, by a number of quick and irregular tremifactions, which were
followed by three immense floods, from the Jökul, that completely
overflowed Myrdals-sand, and carried before them almost incredible
quantities of ice and gravel. Masses of ice, resembling small mountains
in size, pushed one another forward, and bore vast pieces of solid rock
on their surface. After the rocking had continued some time, an
exceedingly loud report was heard, when fire and water were observed to
be emitted alternately by the volcano, which appeared to vent its rage
through three apertures situated close to each other. At times the
column of fire was carried to such a height that it illuminated the
whole of the surrounding atmosphere, and was seen at the distance of one
hundred and eighty miles; at other times the air was so filled with
smoke and ashes that the adjacent parishes were enveloped in total
darkness. Between these alternations of light and obscurity, vast
red-hot globes were thrown to a great height, and broken into a thousand
pieces. The following night presented one of the most awful and sublime
spectacles imaginable. An unremitting noise, like that produced by the
discharge of heavy artillery, was heard from the volcano. A fiery column
of variegated hues rose into the atmosphere; flames and sparks were
scattered in every direction, and blazed in the most vivid manner.”