seldom be needed; for on almost every one of the larger rivers there are
plenty of ferries.
5th. The very best month for travelling in Iceland undoubtedly is July,
and next to it August. A journey can be begun in the middle of June. At
an earlier time there will not be sufficient grass for the horses. The
journey can usually, without the risk of getting bad weather, be
prolonged to the middle of September.
These, my dear sir, are all the hints I am able to give you. I am sure
there are many other things which might be taken into consideration, but
I have written this to my best ability, although in great haste, which
may excuse the many faults I am sure will be found with my English. With
my best wishes &c.
Yours very truly,
O. PÁLSSON.
NOTE.—The screw steamer _Arcturus_ makes six trips during the
season, carrying the mails from Copenhagen to Iceland, and
calling at Grangemouth and the Faröe Islands. The first sailing
north is generally about the beginning of March, and the last
towards the end of October. Fares—First cabin £5; second do. £3
10s. Return—only available for the same voyage—first cabin £9;
second do. £6. Further information may be obtained by applying
to Mr. P. L. Henderson, 20 Dixon Street, Glasgow; Messrs. David
Robertson & Co., Grangemouth; or Messrs. Koch & Henderson,
Copenhagen.
-----
Footnote 54:
A rix dollar is equal in value to 2/3 English. A skilling is a
fraction more than a farthing.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
V.
GLOSSARY.
The following Explanatory List of Geographical Terms will
assist the memory, aid the pronunciation, and, it is
believed, prove of interest and practical utility.[55]
á _or_ aa, _river_.
bakki, _hill_.
beru, _bare_.
beru-fjördr, _bare frith_.
blá, _blue_.
bœr, _farm_.
bol, _or_ bol-stadr, _main farm_, or _steading_ (bu _or_ boo, in
Orkney).
brekka, _brink of a precipice_.
brú, _bridge_.
dalr, _valley_.
eingi, _or_ hagi, _meadow_, or _field_.
ey (eyjar, genitive singular; eyja, genitive plural), _an island_
eyri, _sand_, _sand-bank_ or _bar_ (ere, in north of England)
fell, _same as_ fjall.
ferjur, _ferries_.
fjall, (plural fjöll), _fell_, or _height_; as Blá-fjall, _blue fell_,
or, in English, _Scawfell_, _&c._
fjördr, _frith_.
fljót, _a river_ (_fleet_)
fors, _force_, or _waterfall_.
hals, _ridge_, or _col_.
hædir, _heights_.
heidi, _heath_.
hof, _or_ hofdi, _head_, or _headland_.
holl, _hill_.
holt, _wood_.
hraun, _lava_.
hreppr, _a rape_ (whence divisions of land, and “rapes” of Sussex).
hvamm, _a combe_, or _recess surrounded by hills_; _as Ilfra-combe_.
hvit, _white_ (hence hvit-á, _white river_.)
jökull, _ice mountain_.
jökuls-á, is the name given to many rivers, and means only _ice river_;
but it is usually associated with another name, such as Axa-firdi
Jökuls-á, or _ice river of the Axa frith_.
kirk, _church_.
kverk, _chin_ (hence Kverk-fjöll, _Chinfell_).
lid, _lithe_, provincial for _a sloping bank_ (whence Reykja-lid, _the
smoking bank_).
lœkr, _brook_, _stream_.
muli, _mull_, or _cliff_; thing-muli, _the heights_, or _cliffs, under
which an assembly was held_.
myri, _morass_.
ness, _headland_.
nupr, _bluff_, or _inland cliff_.
orœfi, _wastes_.
rafn, _raven_.
reyk, _smoke_.
sandr, _sands_.
skard, _pass_, _defile_.
skógr, _underwood_.
stadr, _stede_, _stead_, or _sted_; _as Hampstead_.
strönd, _strand_.
sysla, _or_ syssel, _district_.
thing, _meeting_.
vatn (plural, vötn), _lake_.
vellir, _plain_.
vik, vikr, _bay_; Grunda-vik, _green bay_; Greenwich = Green-vik.
-----
Footnote 55:
Extracted from the postscript to Mr. William Longman’s “Suggestions
for the Exploration of Iceland”—an address delivered to the members of
the Alpine Club, of which he is Vice-President.—Longman & Co., 1861.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
VI.
OUR SCANDINAVIAN ANCESTORS.[56]
Few subjects possess greater interest for the British race than the
Scandinavian North, with its iron-bound rampart of wave-lashed rocks,
its deeply indented fiords, bold cliffs, rocky promontories, abrupt
headlands, wild skerries, crags, rock-ledges, and caves, all alive with
gulls, puffins and kittiwakes; and in short, the general and striking
picturesqueness of its scenery, to say nothing of the higher human
interest of its stirring history, and the rich treasures of its grand
old literature.
The British race has been called Anglo-Saxon; made up however, as it is,
of many elements—Ancient Briton, Roman, Anglo-Saxon, Dane, Norman, and
Scandinavian—the latter predominates so largely over the others as to
prove by evidence, external and internal, and not to be gainsaid, that
the Scandinavians are our true progenitors.
The Germans are a separate branch of the same great Gothic family,
industrious, but very unlike us in many respects. The degree of
resemblance and affinity may be settled by styling them honest but
unenterprising inland friends, whose ancestors and ours were first
cousins upwards of a thousand years ago.
To the old Northmen—hailing from the sea-board of Norway, Sweden, and
Denmark—may be traced the germs of all that is most characteristic of
the modern Briton, whether personal, social, or national. The
configuration of the land, and the numerous arms of the sea with which
the north-west of Europe is indented, necessitated boats and seamanship.
From these coasts, the Northmen—whether bent on piratical plundering
expeditions, or peacefully seeking refuge from tyrannical oppression at
home—sallied forth in their frail barks or skiffs, which could live in
the wildest sea, visiting and settling in many lands. We here mention,
in geographical order, Normandy, England, Scotland, Orkney, Shetland,
Faröe, and Iceland. Wherever they have been, they have left indelible
traces behind them, these ever getting more numerous and distinct as we
go northwards.
Anglen, from which the word England is derived, still forms part of
Holstein a province in Denmark; and the preponderance of the direct
Scandinavian element in the language itself has been shewn by Dean
Trench, who states, that of a hundred English words, sixty come from the
Scandinavian, thirty from the Latin, five from the Greek, and five from
other sources.
In Scotland many more Norse words, which sound quite foreign to an
English ear, yet linger amongst the common people; while, as in England,
the original Celtic inhabitants were driven to the west before the
Northmen, who landed for the most part on the east. In certain districts
of the Orkneys a corrupt dialect of Norse was spoken till recently, and
the Scandinavian type of features is there often to be met with.
The Norse language is still understood and frequently spoken in
Shetland, where the stalwart, manly forms of the fishermen, the
characteristic prevalence of blue eyes and light flaxen hair, the
universal observance of the Norse Yule, and many other old-world
customs, together with the oriental and almost affecting regard paid to
the sacred rites of hospitality, on the part of the islanders, all
plainly tell their origin.
The language of the Faröe islanders is a dialect of the Norse,
approaching Danish, and peculiar to themselves. It is called Faröese.
The peaceful inhabitants not only resemble, but are Northmen.
In Iceland we have pure Norse, as imported from Norway in the ninth
century, the lone northern sea having guarded it, and many other
interesting features, from those modifications to which the Norwegian,
Danish, and Swedish have been subjected by neighbouring Teutonic or
German influences. This language, the parent, or at least the oldest and
purest form of the various Scandinavian dialects with which we are
acquainted, has been at different times named Dönsk-tunga, Norræna, or
Norse, but latterly it has been simply called Icelandic, because
peculiar to that island.
The language, history, and literature of our ancestors having been thus
preserved in the north, we are thereby enabled to revisit the past, read
it in the light of the present, and make both subservient for good in
the future.
Herodotus mentions that tin was procured from Britain. Strabo informs us
that the Phœnicians traded to our island, receiving tin and skins in
exchange for earthenware, salt, and vessels of brass; but our first
authentic particulars regarding the ancient Britons are derived from
Julius Cæsar, whose landing on the southern portion of our island, and
hard-won battles, were but transient and doubtful successes. The
original inhabitants were Celts from France and Spain; but, as we learn
from him, these had long before been driven into the interior and
western portion of the island by Belgians, who crossed the sea, made
good their footing, settled on the east and south-eastern shores of
England, and were now known as Britons. With these Cæsar had to do. The
intrepid bravery of the well-trained and regularly disciplined British
warriors commanded respect, and left his soldiers but little to boast
of. The Roman legions never felt safe unless within their entrenchments,
and, even there, were sometimes surprised. Strange to realise such dire
conflicts raging at the foot of the Surrey hills, probably in the
neighbourhood of Penge, Sydenham, and Norwood, where the Crystal Palace
now peacefully stands. Even in these dark Druid days, the Britons,
although clothed in skins, wearing long hair, and stained blue with
woad, were no mere painted savages as they have sometimes been
represented, but were in possession of regularly-constituted forms of
government. They had naval, military, agricultural and commercial
resources to depend upon, and were acquainted with many of the important
arts of life. The Briton was simple in his manners, frugal in his
habits, and loved freedom above all things. Had the brave Caswallon
headed the men of Kent, in their attack upon the Roman maritime camp,
Cæsar and his hosts would never, in all likelihood, have succeeded in
reaching their ships, but would have found graves on our shores. His
admirable commentaries would not have seen the light of day, and the
whole current of Roman, nay, of the world’s history might have been
changed.
Our British institutions and national characteristics were not adopted
from any quarter, completely moulded and finished, as it were, but
everywhere exhibit the vitality of growth and progress, slow but sure.
Each new element or useful suggestion, from whatever source derived, has
been tested and modified before being allowed to take root and form part
of the constitution. The germs have been developed in our own soil.
Thus, to the Romans, we can trace our municipal institutions—subjection
to a central authority controlling the rights of individuals. To the
Scandinavians, we can as distinctly trace that principle of personal
liberty which resists absolute control, and sets limits—such as Magna
Charta—to the undue exercise of authority in governors.
These two opposite tendencies, when united, like the centripedal and
centrifugal forces, keep society revolving peacefully and securely in
its orbit around the sun of truth. When severed, tyranny, on the one
hand, or democratic license, on the other—both alike removed from
freedom—must result, sooner or later, in instability, confusion, and
anarchy. France affords us an example of the one, and America of the
other. London is not Britain in the sense that Paris is France; while
Washington has degenerated into a mere cockpit for North and South.
From the feudal system of the Normans, notwithstanding its abuses, we
have derived the safe tenure and transmission of land, with protection
and security for all kinds of property. British law has been the growth
of a thousand years, and has been held in so much respect that even our
revolutions have been legally conducted, and presided over by the staid
majesty of justice. Were more evidences wanting to show that the
Scandinavian element is actually the backbone of the British
race—contributing its superiority, physical and moral, its indomitable
strength and energy of character—we would simply mention a few traits of
resemblance which incontestably prove that the “child is father to the
man.”
The old Scandinavian possessed an innate love of truth; much
earnestness; respect and honour for woman; love of personal freedom;
reverence, up to the light that was in him, for sacred things; great
self-reliance, combined with energy of will to dare and do; perseverance
in overcoming obstacles, whether by sea or land; much self-denial, and
great powers of endurance under given circumstances. These qualities,
however, existed along with a pagan thirst for war and contempt of
death, which was courted on the battle-field that the warrior might rise
thence to Valhalla.
To illustrate the love of freedom, even in thought, which characterises
the race, it can be shewn that, while the Celtic nations fell an easy
prey to the degrading yoke of Romish superstition, spreading its deadly
miasma from the south, the Scandinavian nations, even when for a time
acknowledging its sway, were never bound hand and foot by it, but had
minds of their own, and sooner or later broke their fetters. In the
truth-loving Scandinavian, Jesuitical Rome has naturally ever met with
its most determined antagonist; for
“True and tender is the North.”
In the dark days of the Stuarts, witness the noble struggles of the
Covenanters and the Puritans for civil and religious liberty.
Notwithstanding mixtures and amalgamations of blood, as a general rule
the distinctive tendencies of race survive, and, good or bad, as the
case may be, reappear in new and unexpected forms. Even habit becomes a
second nature, the traces of which, centuries with their changes cannot
altogether obliterate.
On the other side of the Atlantic, the Puritan Fathers, their
descendants, and men like them, have been the salt of the north; while
many of the planters of the south, tainted with cavalier blood, continue
to foster slavery—“that sum of all villanies”—and glory in being
man-stealers, man-sellers, and murderers, although cursed of God, and
execrated by all right thinking men. John Brown of Harper’s Ferry, who
was the other day judicially murdered, we would select as an honoured
type of the noble, manly, brave, truth-loving, God-fearing
Scandinavian—_The Times_ and _Athenæum_ notwithstanding.[57] His heroism
in behalf of the poor despised slave had true moral grandeur in it—it
was sublime. America cannot match it. Washington was great—John Brown
was greater. Washington resisted the imposition of unjust taxes on
himself and his equals, but was a slave-holder; John Brown unselfishly
devoted his energies—nay, life itself—to obtain freedom for the
oppressed, and to save his country from just impending judgments. The
one was a patriot; the other was a patriot and philanthropist. The
patriotism of Washington was limited by colour; that of Brown was
thorough, and recognised the sacred rights of man. He was hanged for
trying to accomplish that which his murderers ought to have done—nay,
deserved to be hanged for not doing—hanged for that which they shall yet
do, if not first overtaken and whelmed in just and condign vengeance;
for the cry of blood ascends. He was no less a martyr to the cause of
freedom than John Brown of Priesthill, who was ruthlessly shot by the
bloody Claverhouse. These two noble martyrs, in virtue alike of their
name and cause, shall stand together on the page of future history, when
their cruel murderers and the abettors of them have long gone to their
own place. For such deeds there shall yet be tears of blood. The wrongs
of Italy are not to be named in comparison with those of the slave. Let
those who boast of a single drop of Scandinavian blood in their veins no
longer withhold just rights from the oppressed—rights which, if not
yielded at this the eleventh hour, shall be righteously, though
fearfully, wrested from the oppressors, when the hour of retribution
comes.[58]
Perhaps the two most striking outward resemblances between Britons and
Scandinavians may be found in their maritime skill, and in their powers
of planting colonies, and governing themselves by free institutions,
representative parliaments, and trial by jury.
The Norse rover—bred to the sea, matchless in skill, daring, loving
adventure and discovery, and with any amount of pluck—is the true type
of the British tar. In light crafts, the Northmen could run into shallow
creeks, cross the North Sea, or boldly push off to face the storms of
the open Atlantic. These old Vikings were seasoned “salts” from their
very childhood—“creatures native and imbued unto the element;” neither
in peace nor war, on land nor sea, did they fear anything but fear.
“Tameless spirits of the past!
Boldest and noblest of earth’s kind were ye—
Conquerors of nations—fathers of a race
Of giant princes.”[59]
In them we see the forerunners of the buccaneers, and the ancestors of
those naval heroes, voyagers, and discoverers—those Drakes and Dampiers,
Nelsons and Dundonalds, Cooks and Franklins, who have won for Britain
the proud title of sovereign of the seas—a title which she is still
ready to uphold against all comers.
In Shetland, we still find the same skilled seamanship, and the same
light open boat, like a Norwegian yawl; indeed, planks for building
skiffs are generally imported from Norway, all prepared and ready to put
together. There the peace-loving fishermen, in pursuit of their perilous
calling, sometimes venture sixty miles off to sea, losing sight of all
land, except perhaps the highest peak of their island-homes left dimly
peering just above the horizon-line. Sometimes they are actually driven,
by stress of weather, within sight of the coast of Norway, and yet the
loss of a skiff in the open sea, however high the waves run, is a thing
quite unknown to the skilled Shetlander. The buoyancy of the skiff (from
this word we have ship and skipper) is something wonderful. Its high bow
and stern enables it to ride and rise over the waves like a sea-duck,
although its chance of living seems almost as little, and as perilous,
as that of the dancing shallop or mussel-shell we see whelmed in the
ripple. Its preservation, to the onlooker from the deck of a large
vessel, often seems miraculous. It is the practice, in encountering the
stormy blasts of the North Sea, to lower the lug-sail on the approach of
every billow, so as to ride its crest with bare mast, and to raise it
again as the skiff descends into the more sheltered trough of the wave.
By such constant manœuvering, safety is secured and progress made. When
boats are lost—and such tragedies frequently occur, sometimes leaving
poor lonely widows bereft, at one fell swoop, of husband, father, and
brothers, for the crews are too often made up of relatives—it is
generally when they are caught and mastered by strong currents running
between the islands, which neither oar nor sail can stem. Such losses
are always on the coasts—never at sea.
Of the Scandinavian powers of colonising:—There is ample evidence of
their having settled in Shetland, Orkney, and on our coasts, long before
those great outgoings of which we have authentic historical records. To
several of these latter we shall briefly advert, viz., the English,
Russian, Icelandic, American, and Norman.
We may first mention that, in remote ages, this race swept across Europe
from the neighbourhood of the region now called Circassia, lying between
the Black Sea and the Caspian, to the shores of the Baltic, settling on
the north-west coast of Europe. Their traditions, and numerous eastern
customs—allied to the Persians and the inhabitants of the plains of Asia
Minor in old Homeric days—which they brought along with them, all go to
confirm their eastern origin. Nor did they rest here, but, thirsting for
adventure in these grim warrior ages, sailed forth as pirates or
settlers, sometimes both, and, as can be shewn, made their power and
influence felt in every country of Europe, from Lapland to the
Mediterranean.
They invaded England in A.D. 429, and founded the kingdoms of South,
West, and East Seaxe, East Anglia, Mercia, Deira, and Bernicea; thus
overrunning and fixing themselves in the land, from Devonshire to North
of the Humber. From the mixture of these Angles, or Saxons, as they were
termed by the Britons, with the previous Belgian settlers and original
inhabitants, we have the Anglo-Saxon race. The Jutes who settled in Kent
were from Jutland. In A.D. 787, the Danes ravaged the coast, beginning
with Dorsetshire; and, continuing to swarm across the sea, soon spread
themselves over the whole country. They had nearly mastered it all, when
Alfred ascended the throne in 871. At length, in A.D. 1017, Canute,
after much hard fighting, did master it, and England had Danish kings
from that period till the Saxon line was restored in 1042.
In the year A.D. 862, the Scandinavian Northmen established the Russian
empire, and played a very important part in the management of its
affairs, even after the subsequent infusion of the Sclavonic element. In
the “Mémoires de la Société Royale des Antiquaries du Nord,” published
at Copenhagen, we find that, of the fifty names of those composing
Ingor’s embassy to the Greek Emperor at Constantinople in the year A.D.
994, only three were Sclavic, and the rest Northmen—names that occur in
the Sagas, such as Ivar, Vigfast, Eylif, Grim, Ulf, Frode, Asbrand, &c.
The Greeks called them Russians, but Frankish writers simply Northmen.
In the year A.D. 863, Naddodr, a Norwegian, discovered Iceland,[60]
which, however, had been previously visited and resided in at intervals
for at least upwards of seventy years before that time, by fishermen,
ecclesiastics, and hermits, called Westmen, from Ireland, Iona and other
islands of the Hebrides. Of these visits Naddodr found numerous traces.
In A.D. 874, Ingolf with followers, many of whom were related to the
first families in Norway, fleeing from the tyranny of Harold Harfagra,
began the colonisation of Iceland, which was completed during a space of
sixty years. They established a flourishing republic, appointed
magistrates, and held their Althing, or national assembly, at
Thingvalla.
Many of the Northmen who at various times had settled on our shores,
accompanied by their acquired relatives, also set sail and joined their
brethren; thus making use of Britain as a stepping stone between
Scandinavia and Iceland. Many traces of these early links yet remain. We
heard of a family in the island that can trace its descent, in a direct
line, from a royal ancestor of Queen Victoria.