November, during which period dreadful _exundations of hot-water_ were
poured forth on the low country; and the masses of ice, clay, and solid
rock, that they hurled into the sea, were so great that it was _filled
to the distance of more than fifteen miles_; and, in some places, where
it was formerly forty fathoms deep, the tops of the newly deposited
rocks were now seen towering above the water. A violent eruption
happened again, on the 17th of November, when the volcano remained
inactive till the following year, during which it emitted fire and water
five times—viz., on January 15, June 28 and 29, and August 12 and 25.”
“The principal damage occasioned by these eruptions, consisted in the
destruction of the pasture-grounds throughout the most part of the
syssel—or district. Numbers of the cattle were carried away by the
deluge; and the mephitic substances, with which everything was
impregnated, brought on a raging mortality in different parts of the
country. On the breaking forth of the water, a number of people fled for
refuge to an insulated mountain called Hafrsey, where they were obliged
to stay seven days without either meat or drink; and were exposed to the
showers of stones, fire, and water which fell around them. The
lightning, which was very violent during the eruption, penetrated
through solid rocks, and killed two people and eleven horses, three of
which were in a stable. One of the persons killed was a farmer, whom it
struck dead as he left the door of his house. What is remarkable, his
upper clothes, which were of wool, bore no marks of fire, but the linen
he had under them was burned; and when he was undressed, it was found
that the skin and flesh of his right side were consumed to the very
bone. [!] His maid-servant was struck with the lightning at the same
time; and though her clothes were instantly changed, it continued to
burn in the pores of her body, and singed the clothes she put on. [!]
She died a few days afterwards, having in the meantime suffered
inexpressible pain.”
This eruption, Henderson very truly remarks, becomes the more noteworthy
from “the terrible convulsions to which at the same time a great part of
the terrestrial globe was subjected. Not only were the British isles
rocked by repeated and violent shocks of an earthquake, houses thrown
down, rocks split, and the waters of the sea and lakes[26] heaved up;
but in Norway, Sweden, Germany, Holland, France, and Italy, the same
phenomena were experienced. Spain and Portugal, however, suffered most
from the shocks. Numerous villages, convents, and churches were
demolished; the largest mountains shaken from the foundations, and the
low grounds inundated by the swelling and overflowing of the rivers.
Lisbon, in particular, exhibited a scene the most tragical and
melancholy. The most ponderous edifices were heaved up and shaken;
steeples, towers, and houses thrown down; the ground and streets danced
under the feet of the inhabitants; and many thousands of them were
buried in the ruins. Nor was the earthquake confined to Europe. It
stretched over into Barbary, and destroyed upwards of a dozen of cities
on the coasts of Africa. Its concussions were also felt in Persia, in
the West Indies, and in America.”[27] Sir George S. Mackenzie and Sir
William Hooker[28] both also describe this eruption in their respective
works of travel, but the incidents do not differ from those given above.
The latter writer characterizes the sounds accompanying the eruption as
“most frightful and horrible roarings.” The illuminations at night were
so vivid, “that heaven and earth seemed to be equally in a state of
conflagration.” On the 19th of October a column of smoke issued from the
volcano, which column was black by day; but the smoke was intermixed
with balls and sparks of fire, which by night lighted up the whole of
the Myrdal district, while the country to the east thereof was in
darkness both day and night. “Ashes fell like rain” in Faröe, 300 miles
distant, and subterranean noises were heard as far as the Guldbringu and
Kiosar syssels—80 to 90 miles distant.
The fourteenth, A.D. 1823, began on the 1st and ended on the 26th July.
The phenomena were, as usual, chiefly water-floods, showers of ashes,
slight earthquakes, and vivid lightnings, which latter struck several
persons. Only one farm, Solheimar, was destroyed, and comparatively
little damage was done elsewhere; altogether the eruption was one of the
mildest and most innocuous hitherto recorded of Kötlugjá.
These glimpses of the recorded volcanic history of that one spot on
which we now gaze, will convey to the reader some idea of the terrific
visitations to which the islanders are exposed; even when there are not
lava streams licking up rivers, pastures, farms, and people in their
fiery floods, filling up whole valleys or rushing out into the sea and
forming capes, hissing, the while, louder than the Midgard Serpent,
which encompasses the whole earth.
* * * * *
White fleecy clouds come and go, at times muffling the summit of these
jökuls, which are deemed the most picturesque in Iceland, if we except
Snæfell on the west coast, and Oræfa on the south-east.
After passing the Westmanna islands and the east-most mouth of the
Markarfliót river, which sweeps round the north and west sides of
Eyafialla Jökul, the south-east mountain ranges, on which we have long
been gazing, begin; the general character of the coast, north of this
point, having been low like the Guldbringu syssel. This district has
been rendered classic ground, as the scene of Njal’s Saga,[29] and we
only wish it were permitted us to land and visit Bergthorsknoll and
Lithend, to cross the rivers, scamper over the plains, or scale the
Three-corner mountain. It is now clear, and one can take in the general
character of the whole district at a glance.
The colour of the sea now assumed a light green aspect, broken here and
there by white crested waves. Snow patches lay on the rugged purple
hills; these, again, were touched with lines of intense fiery gold,
actually excandescent. Sea-birds flitted past like white gleams; and,
altogether, the scene, flooded with golden light, presented a
magnificent study of colour. I made jottings of the outlines, tints, and
atmospheric effects, for a water colour drawing; to be painted “some
day”—that unattainable period when so many things are to be done, but
which ever recedes from us like the horizon line; luring us on and on,
and cheating us from day to day with a vague phantom shadow of
“Something evermore about to be.”
The Skogar-foss—force or waterfall—yonder, falling sheer over the rock
cliffs into the sea, gently sways to and fro in the wind. It falls
from so great a height that it appears to lose itself in vapour or
dust, like the Staubach. There is an old tradition that an early
colonist—Thrasi—before dying, buried a chest of gold and jewels in the
deep rock-basin into which this magnificent sheet of water
tumbles.[30]
Sun-gleams rest on the snow-mountains and play on the ice of the
glaciers. These are very numerous near the coast, the ice being
generally of a light whity-green colour and corrugated in wavy lines.
As the weather is clear and bright, we see the coast near Portland to
more advantage than on our first approach to the island. The wild
fantastic promontories, rock-islets, and needle shaped drongs—serrated,
peaked and hummocky—resemble the ruins of old castles and cathedrals.
The likeness of one of them to Iona, already remarked upon, is now even
still more apparent. Behind these rocks is a low range of hills, beyond
which rise the jökuls.
The summits of these mountains are white with perpetual snow. The
shoulders shade downwards into pale green ice, which terminates abruptly
at the edge of a dark rugged precipitous line of rock that descends
sheer into the valley behind the low range of hills next the sea. The
precipice looked as if the sides of the mountains had, in some way, been
sliced down, say from a third of their height, leaving the snowy summits
and icy shoulders untouched.
Glaciers were formed, wherever the nature of the slope would admit of
them. In some instances they seemed to approach the brink of the
precipice and overhang it; but more frequently they chose places where
rents, chasms, irregularities, or depressed spaces, occurring between
any two mountains in the range, broke the wall, and thus afforded an
incline plane all the way down to the valley.
Many whales continue to sport round the vessel, spouting up jets of
water, tumbling about and showing the whole of their large tails. At
times they leap nearly altogether out of the sea, and fall with a great
splash. They often remain perfectly motionless for a considerable time.
When diving down, both the rounded shape of the fish, and the peculiar
parabolic motion with which it rises and falls, make the ridge of the
back with its dorsal fins resemble the segment of a great black
revolving disk, like a monster saw-wheel. Gulls, skuas, and
pheasant-tailed ducks are flying about.
A lot of beer-drinking and meerschaum-smoking Danes are on board, going
to Copenhagen. The smell of tobacco is felt everywhere, above, below,
and at all hours. Their voices are frequently heard during the day
calling for “snaps.” They consider a glass of this spirit indispensible
for breakfast, and take it every morning to begin with. However, the
hours passed very pleasantly on shipboard. The following
ICELANDIC STATISTICS
will interest the reader. From the last census—1855—we learn that the
population of the island is 64,603; of that number 52,475 live by
farming, and 5,055 by fishing, thus accounting for nearly three-fourths
of the whole population. In exact figures the number is only 923 short
of that proportion.
There were then in the island 65 persons deaf and dumb, and 202 blind.
Curious to observe that, although there previously had been and again
may be, there was not then a single watchmaker on the island. The
extreme paucity of common tradesmen—less than 11 to the 1000—indicates a
very primitive pastoral state of society amongst the islanders; home
wants being generally supplied by home skill. The following table is
constructed, from data contained in the census, to show at a glance the
various occupations of the Icelanders, and also what relative proportion
these bear to each thousand of the population.
Total numbers in Proportion to each
the island at 1000 of the whole
census in 1855. population.
Clergymen, professors and
teachers at the college, and
employés at churches 2,365 36.61
Civil officers 454 7.03
Do. out of office 140 2.17
Farmers who live by agriculture 52,475 812.27
Farmers who depend chiefly on
the fisheries 5,055 78.25
Tradesmen as follows:
Bakers 10 0.16
Coopers 35 0.55
Gold and silversmiths 80 1.24
Carpenters 61 0.94
Blacksmiths 80 1.24
Masons 6 0.09
Millers 4 0.07
Turners 8 0.13
Boat builders 38 0.59
Shoemakers 18 0.28
Tailors 27 0.41
Joiners 174 2.69
Saddlers 46 0.71
Weavers 20 0.30
Men who live by other
industrial occupations 103 1.59
Merchants and innkeepers 730 11.30
Pensioners, and people
living on their own means 356 5.51
Day labourers 523 8.09
Miscellaneous occupations
not classed 586 9.07
Paupers 1,207 18.68
Prisoners 2 0.3
——— ———
64,603 1000
There are only sixty-three native Icelandic surnames. Few people have
got any; the custom is, after telling one’s own christian name, when
asked whose son are you? to answer in old Hebrew fashion, son of, or
daughter of so and so. There are 530 men’s christian names, and 529
women’s names in use; so that there need be no lack for choice of names
in a large family. Many of them, slightly modified in spelling, are
familiar to us, but chiefly as surnames, _e.g._ Kettle, Halle, Ormur,
Gils, Olafur, &c.
The number of individuals bearing certain names, is all duly recorded in
the last census. I note a few of them, from which the reader may infer
that Casa’s droll extravaganza, depreciating the name John under its
various forms, is as applicable to Iceland as to Italy; and that
Sigridur, Kristin, and Helga, are favourite names among the ladies.
The figures in the following list indicate the total number of persons,
in the whole island, who bear these respective names.
Andros, 136; Ausumunder, 125; Bjarni, 869; Einer, 878; Eiriken, 351;
Gísli, 681; Gunnar, 150; Halldor, 428; Johann, 494; Johannus, 498; Jón,
4827; Magnus, 1007; Odin, 169; Olafur, 992; Thordur, 445; Thorwaldsen,
106 &c.
Female names:—Anna, 869; Elin, 438; Elizabeth, 194; Gróa, 269; Halldóra,
515; Helga, 1135; Johanna, 630; Kristin, 1615; Rosa, 269; Sigridur,
2641; Lilja, 120; Soffia, 182; Thorbjörg, 436; Sessilja, 326 &c.
* * * * *
Half-past 6 P.M. Looking back to Portland Huk, over the light-green sea
with its white crested waves, the reddish brown fantastic islets, and
the singular arched opening in the rock—Dyrhólaey—show distinctly and
beautifully against the amber light of the horizon.
As we paced the deck, talking about the old Norse language—which is
still spoken in Iceland as it used to be in the eighth and ninth
centuries in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, in the Orkney, Shetland, and
Faröe islands, in the two northern counties of Scotland, and in other
Scandinavian settlements along the British coast—Dr. Mackinlay remarked,
that “so well had the language been preserved, an Icelander of the
present day had no difficulty in understanding the most ancient writings
of his country.” This can be said of no other tongue in western Europe.
To this—the very language of the Vikings—both the old lowland Scotch,
and, at a further remove, our modern English, chiefly owe their
directness, expressiveness, and strength.
Many words, which we now use with a secondary or restricted meaning,
still retain their primitive signification in Icelandic. Thus the word
“smith”—a contraction for smiteth—which with us is restricted to a
worker in metals, in Icelandic still retains its old sense of
handcraftsman. Hence the Icelander not only talks of a goldsmith as a
guldsmidr, a silversmith as silfursmidr, but of a saddler as södlasmidr,
a cooper as a koparsmidr, a shoemaker as a skórsmidr, a joiner as a
trésmidr, a builder as a husasmidr, a printer as a prentsmidr, a
blacksmith as a jarnsmidr, a cabinet-maker as a skrinsmidr, a watchmaker
as an ursmidr, and, in a metaphorical sense, of a poet or ode-writer as
an odarsmidr; just as the Anglo-Saxons talked of a warrior as a
war-smidr.
Over a narrow strip of low sand-beach, the near snow-mountains and
icefields, like frosted silver burnished in parts, now lie gleaming with
dazzling brightness in the sun; coloured here and there with living
gem-like streaks of opal, amber, crimson, and orange which glow yet more
intensely, as if the snow and ice had been magically touched with an
unextinguishable pencil of fire.
[Illustration: PART OF MYRDALS JÖKUL AND KÖTLUGJÁ RANGE.]
Portland point is left astern, and over it, dark clouds, of a leaden hue
and ruddy edges, came down to within a short distance of the transparent
glowing horizon. The coast-range and islets, off the point, are deep
purple, relieved against a narrow golden belt of light below the leaden
cloud. In it, hang motionless a few cloud streaks—light, fleecy,
purplish gray—and, lower down, others of only a lighter amber than the
pure ether in which they float.
The sea is of a light sap green; the level sun-glare slants across the
wake of the steamer, and touches the crested waves; while a line of
light, like a silvery mist, marks the edge of the sea, by running along
the coast at the foot of the snow-capped hills. Sea-gulls flying about
are following the vessel, and screaming with delight or expectation. All
is a perfect study of colour—warm purples, glowing ambers, fiery
crimsons, and cool greens—each heightened by neutral tints in the
clouds, and crests of white foam, little more than a ripple, on the
green sea. I walked the deck for two hours with the captain, and turned
in at eleven o’clock.
[Illustration: ORÆFA JÖKUL.]
_Friday morning._ We are passing Oræfa Jökul, which, by the latest
measurement, rises 6,405 English feet above the sea level, and is the
highest mountain in the island. It is an immense mass, covered with snow
and ice, and exhibiting glaciers creeping down to the sea. Sometimes the
internal heat of this volcano melts and cracks the surface ice-mail, so
that it splinters and rushes down the sides as an avalanche of ice and
water, filling up hollows and valleys. When in action it only ejects
ashes and pumice; never lava.[31] By the side of the mountain is a
gently sloping snow-field, with several pointed black peaks rising
abruptly out of it. This field stretches away far inland. Dr. Mackinlay
tells me that, from the land-side, Oræfa appears a double-peaked broad
shouldered mountain; one of the peaks or ridges presenting a deep
scarped side like that of Salisbury Crags.[32]
With but few interruptions, a chain of snow-mountains stretches across
the island, from Snæfells Jökul in the west, to Thrandar Jökul in the
east; while the central desert or plain, running across from sea to sea
between this range and that on the south-east, is nearly 100 miles
broad, from 2000 to 2200 feet above the sea level, and only 400 or 500
feet from the snow-line. The south-east corner of the island is an
enormous unexplored snow or ice plateau, called Klofa or Vatna Jökul, of
about 2400 square miles, chiefly covered with, or at all events
surrounded by ranges of jökuls, over which Oræfa, the most southern
jökul of this unexplored region and the king of Iceland mountains, keeps
watch and ward.
Away to the north-west, bounding this icy region on the west, rises
Skaptár Jökul, by far the most destructive volcano in the island.[33]
And “in no part of the world,” remarks Dr. Lindsay, “are volcano
phenomena on so gigantic a scale as in Iceland. In it there are lava
streams fifty miles long, twelve to fifteen miles broad and six hundred
feet deep. Portions of these streams sometimes form hills as high as
Arthur’s Seat or Salisbury Crags; and such is the persistence of the
heat, that rents in the lava have been found still smoking, or filled
with hot water, so long as eleven years after an eruption. In no part of
the world of the same extent, are there so many widely separate vents or
foci—about twenty—of subterranean igneous action. The boiling springs
which are most numerous, show of themselves that such action is going on
under the whole island. The calculations of Professor Bischoff show,
that the mass of lava thrown up by the eruption of Skaptár Jökul, A.D.
1783, was greater in bulk than Mont Blanc. A larger mass of lava by far,
than was ever thrown out from a single volcano, at any time, in any part
of the world.”
As a particular example of the ravages produced by these terrible
convulsions of nature may give the reader a clearer and more vivid idea
of their action, than any general description, we shall select the
ERUPTION OF SKAPTÁR JÖKUL,
in 1783; it having been not only very violent, but the one of which we
possess the fullest and most authentic accounts.
“The preceding winter and the spring of that year had been unusually
mild, and nothing seemed to foretell the approaching danger, till
towards the end of May, when a light bluish fog was seen floating along
the ground, succeeded in the beginning of June by earthquakes, which
daily increased in violence till the 8th of that month. At nine in the
morning of that day numerous pillars of smoke were noticed rising in the
hill country towards the north, which, gradually gathering into a dark
bank, obscured the atmosphere, and proceeding in a southerly direction
against the wind, involved the whole district of Sida in darkness,
showering down sand and ashes to the thickness of an inch. This cloud
continued to increase till the 10th, when fire-spouts were observed in
the mountains, accompanied by earthquakes. Next day the large river
Skaptaá, which in the spring had discharged a vast quantity of fetid
water, mixed with gravel or dust, and had lately been much swollen,
totally disappeared. This incident was fully accounted for on the 12th,
when a huge current of lava, burst from one side of the volcano, and
rushed with a loud crashing noise down the channel of the river, which
it not only filled, but even overflowed, though in many places from four
to six hundred feet deep and two hundred broad. The fiery stream after
leaving the hills, threatened to deluge the low country of Medalland,
when a lake that lay in its way intercepted it during several days. But
at length the incessant torrents filled the basin, and proceeded in two
streams, one to the east, where its progress was for a short time
interrupted by the Skalarfiall, up which, however, the accumulating
flood soon forced its way, rolling the mossy covering over the mountain
before it like a large piece of cloth. The other current directed its
progress towards the south, through the district of Medalland, passing
over some old tracts of lava, which again began to burn, whilst the air
in its cavities escaped with a strange whistling noise, or suddenly
expanding, threw up immense masses into the air to the height of more
than 120 feet. The waters of the rivers, swollen by the melting of the
Jökuls in the interior, and intercepted in their course by the glowing
lava, were thrown into a state of violent ebullition, and destroyed many
spots spared by the fire. In this district, the liquid matter continued
to flow to the 20th of July, following principally the course of the
Skaptaá, where it poured over the lofty cataract of Stapafoss, filling
up the enormous cavity the waters had been hollowing out for ages.
During the whole of this eruption, the atmosphere was filled with
mephitic vapours, or darkened with clouds of ashes, by which the sun was
either concealed from the miserable inhabitants, or appeared like a
blood-red globe, adding to their terror and consternation.
“The molten elements had so long confined their fury to the Skaptaá,
that the inhabitants of the eastern district on the Hverfisfliot, though
much incommoded by the showers of ashes, hoped to escape its more
immediate visitations. But on the 28th of June, a cloud of sand and
smoke caused so thick a darkness, that in the houses at noon, a sheet of
white paper, held opposite the window, could not be distinguished from
the black walls, whilst red-hot stones and dust burnt up the pastures,
poisoned the waters, and threatened to set fire to the dwellings. On the
3d of August a thick vapour rising from the Hverfisfliot, the entire
disappearance of its waters, and a foaming fire-stream, which on the 9th
rushed with indescribable fury down its bed, overflowing the country in
one night to the extent of more than four miles, converted the fearful
anticipations of the natives into dreadful realities. The eruptions of
sand, ashes, pumice, and lava continued till the end of August, when the
volcano appeared completely exhausted; but flames were still seen in
February, 1784, and thick clouds of smoke, even in July of that year.
The whole catastrophe closed in August with an earthquake of such
extreme violence that men were thrown to the ground.
“The immediate source whence this enormous mass of matter issued is
entirely unknown, being situated in that great central desert of sand
and snow which none of the natives have ever penetrated; and no
traditions of any former occurrence of this kind have been preserved.
Some persons who went up into the mountains during the continuance of
the eruption were, in consequence of the thick smoke, compelled to
return, and some subsequent attempts met with no better success. It is
not even known whether the current that flowed from the Skaptaá and that
in the Hverfisfliot proceeded from the same crater; it is, however,
probable their sources were different though closely connected.