Part 4

The dinner presented to me on the day of my stay at Minde might be considered as the type of such a meal bespoken at a tolerable country inn in Norway. It consisted of a dish of fried trout from the lake, with melted butter-sauce, and something like Yorkshire pudding to take with it: no more animal food, but a dish of cream prepared in a manner resembling _trifle_, and accompanied by a copious supply of an over-luscious warm jelly; finally, a salad. It is common in small Norwegian inns to put down, with one dinner-like dish, a large bowl of what we call in Scotland _lappered milk_, but bearing a creamy surface, along with sugar: it seems to be a favourite regale with the natives; but I never could get into a liking for it. In the clear warm day which I spent in the Minde inn, the lake presented a beautiful placid scene; a boat was now and then seen rowing lazily across its mirror-like surface; but more generally nothing studded the silver sheet but the image of a passing summer cloud.

In my rambles to-day I saw many of the peasantry, and the interiors of a few of their houses. The women are poor-looking creatures, dressed in the most wretched manner. They want the smart taste seen even among the poorest young females farther south, as is particularly evidenced in their head-dress, which consists merely of a coarse handkerchief tied under the chin--a sort of apology for a hood rather than a head-dress. There are great differences in the interiors of the peasants' houses; but certainly many of them are miserable little cabins. As yet, I see few symptoms of a prosperous life for the labouring-class in Norway. It is different with the peasant proprietors or yeomen, called _bonder_ in their own country. The house of a _bonde_ is a long, double-storeyed, wooden house, painted a dull red or yellow, with gauze window-curtains, and very neatly furnished within. The life of this class--the leading class of Norwegian society--seems generally comfortable, though not to the degree which is alleged in the glowing pages of Mr Laing; for they are very often embarrassed by debt, mostly incurred in order to pay off the claims of brothers and sisters to their inheritance. At present, the labouring-class are leaving Norway in considerable numbers to settle in America. There is one particular district in Wisconsin which they flock to, and which, I am told, contains at least 6000 of these poor people. A government officer, whom I conversed with at Christiania, says it is owing to the superabundant numbers of the people. The land, he alleges, has been brought to the utmost stretch of its productive power. Meanwhile, to use his expression, there is _trop du mariage_: the food being insufficient for the constantly-increasing numbers, they must needs swarm off. There is a like emigration of the humbler class of peasantry from Sweden. Thus we see that equally in the simple state of things which prevails in Scandinavia, and in the high-wrought system of wealthy England, there is but a poor life for the hireling unskilled labourer. Nowhere does it afford more than a bare subsistence; often scarcely gives this.

The weather was now becoming very warm, while, with the increasing latitude, the day was sensibly lengthening. On the evening of the 12th of July I went to bed at ten o'clock under a single sheet, with the window fully up, and read for an hour by the natural light. Next morning at six I went on board the Jernbarden steamer, and was speedily on my way along the Miösen Lake. A raft behind contained my own and another carriage. It proved a pleasant day's sailing, though there is nothing very striking in the scenery of the lake. The gentlemen sauntered about, or sat upon deck, constantly smoking from their long pipes. There were a few ladies, who seemed not at all discomposed by the smoke, or any of its consequences. A tall old general of infantry, in a dark cloak, exhausted I know not how many pipes, and his servant seemed to have little to do but to fill the tube afresh from a _poke_ of chopped tobacco not much less than a nose-bag. Notwithstanding these barbarian practices, there is a vast amount of formal politeness among the native gentlemen and ladies; there is an incessant bowing and taking off of hats; and whenever one is to leave the vessel, he bids adieu to the company, though he perhaps never met one of them before. The captain could converse in English, as is the common case in steamers throughout Norway and Sweden, this gift being indeed held as an indispensable qualification for the appointment. I had also some conversation with the engineer, an intelligent German, who had been some years in England. Along with these circumstances, the idea that the engines had been made in Glasgow caused me to feel more at home on the Miösen Lake than I could have expected. We had, however, a more tedious voyage than usual, in consequence of the drag upon the vessel's movements which we carried behind us, and we consequently did not reach the landing-place beneath the town of Lillehammer till four o'clock.

This being the only town between Christiania and Trondheim, I was desirous of stopping at it; but we had left ourselves barely enough of time to reach the station of a steamer at the foot of a second and smaller lake a few miles onward, by which I hoped to make out a hundred miles of travelling before we should sleep, and thus leave myself comparatively at ease about the remainder of the journey. I therefore reluctantly drove through this pleasant-looking little place. Soon after leaving Lillehammer, the hills, which as yet had been low and rather tame, became steep and rough. We pass along the left bank of the _Laug_, a large, fierce, and rapid stream, of that green colour which indicates an origin among snow-clad mountains. My journey might now have been described by a line from a Scottish poet--'By Logan's streams that run sae deep'--for, by the usual affix of the article _en_, the name of this river is sounded Logan, and thus is identical with a name attached to more than one stream in Scotland.[4] Nor is this, by the way, a solitary case. The river which enters the sea at Trondheim is the Nid, identical with the Nith of Dumfriesshire fame. Even the generic name for a river in Norway, _elv_, or, with the article, _elven_, appears in our numerous tribe of Elvans, Alwynes, Allans, Evans, and Avons.

About a couple of miles before reaching Mosshuus, the first station from Lillehammer, we meet a steep rough barrier, which crosses the valley, curving outwards from the hill-face towards the river, and leaving only a narrow space between itself and the opposite hills for the stream to pass. On mounting to the top, we find that it has a flat surface of considerable extent. It is composed of blocks of stone of all sizes, up to that of a cottage, mixed with a pale clay. Presently another such mass appears, in a terrace-like form, on the opposite bank of the river. A very little reflection, aided by the recollection of some Swiss observations of the preceding summer, enabled me to detect in these strange objects the fragments of an ancient _moraine_. A glacier had once poured down the valley, terminating at this place, and here depositing the loose materials which it had carried along with it from the higher grounds. Such loose materials come to form what is called the terminal _moraine_ of the glacier. Norway must have then had a much colder climate than now, for there is not permanent snow in this district except upon the tops of the mountains--though in Western Norway there are still glaciers which descend almost to the level of the sea. On an improved temperature becoming prevalent, the glacier of the Logan valley had shrunk back, leaving its moraine as a memorial of the point it had once reached. In connection with this object, it is important to remark that the exposed rock-surfaces in the bottom, and a little way up the sides of the valley, are smoothed; but the higher parts of the hill-sides are extremely rough and angular, and have evidently never been subjected to the action of ice. So far there is a difference between this glen and the southern parts of the country. In the latter, where the eminences are low, the ice has passed over hill and vale in its own proper direction. Any ice that has been here has, on the contrary, followed the direction of the valley, forming in it one local and limited stream.

While Quist waited for fresh horses at Mosshuus, I walked on before to examine the country. I found the rocks to be of a schistous character, generally having their sharp angular sides presented to the road. The contrast which they presented to the smoothed surfaces lower down, and to the general surface of Sweden and Southern Norway, was striking, and such as to leave no doubt that the one set of objects had been exempted from a mechanical agency which had powerfully affected the other. Amidst the thin woods of pine and birch which clothed the hill-sides I found abundance of the wild strawberry, and made my acquaintance with this pleasant fruit for the first time. Here and there were piles of cut wood, and the woodman's stroke sounded through the glades. The declining sun threw the one side of the valley into deep shade, and brought out the other into equally strong light. Now and then a wain was heard moving up the steep parts of the road, cheered by the voices of a rustic cortège, whose red cowls would have been keenly appreciated by the eye of a painter. It was a beautiful scene, and a beautiful season--one of those opportunities which the heart sometimes finds to fall in upon itself in perfect satisfaction and repose. I was glad, however, when, after what I thought a too long delay, my carriage made its appearance. We pushed rapidly on towards the bottom of the lake, and were fortunate enough to reach it just as the steamer was about to move off, about nine o'clock.

It was a small and plainly-furnished vessel, which seemed to have exceedingly little custom, for there were not more than three other passengers; and as I only paid about 1s. 8d. for myself, servant, and carriage, the general receipts must be very small. The vessel is, however, conducted on so economical a principle, that comparatively few passengers must suffice to make it pay. A chatty old gentleman, who seemed to be the sole or chief owner, took me down to the engine-room, and showed me the pile of wood required for one of its voyages (sixteen English miles); it measured a fathom each way, and cost 4s. 6d. English! A good-looking, middle-aged woman, attended by a daughter, was there to furnish refreshments, and I supped at an expense ludicrously trifling. While light served, the view from the deck was fine, the immediate banks of the lake presenting slopes of intense green, divided into small farms, each provided with its snug little suite of wooden buildings; while over these spaces rose the dark, steep mountains, shaggy with rock and scrub. A little before midnight we arrived at the landing-place under Elstad station, which is situated pretty far up the hill-side, and to which it was necessary to send for horses to take up the carriage. Walking on before, I soon found myself at the house, but had some difficulty in attracting attention, as the inmates were all in bed. After a little trouble, a stout lass came and bustled about for the preparation of a couch in a very plain upper chamber, and I consigned myself to Morpheus with all possible despatch, as it was necessary that I should be on the road at an early hour on the morrow.

Rising between six and seven, I found Elstad picturesquely situated on a prominence commanding extensive views of the valley. The house is black with age: the date 1670 appears by the door-check, showing that these wooden edifices are more durable than might be supposed. There is, however, no observable difference between this and more modern houses as regards the internal arrangements or the size of the apartments. All such things are stereotyped in Norway. We started at seven, and had a fine morning drive along the valley, which is enlivened by some cataracts of the river, and by the inpouring of two fierce side streams--the Vola and Fyre. At Oden, while they were procuring fresh horses, I obtained breakfast with some difficulty, using some tea of my own, but indebted to the house for sugar, eggs, and butter. The charge for all, besides Quist's breakfast, was a mark (9½d.); and it probably would have been less if I had not been regarded as an Englishman. In the space between this station and the next, at a place called Toostamona (spelt as pronounced), I found a detrital barrier across the valley, very much like that at Mosshuus, but so little charged with large blocks, that I felt doubtful whether it was a second moraine, the mark of a second position of the skirt of the glacier, or the spoils of some side stream, the product of a later though still ancient time. Things are now becoming very simple. The internal economy of the stations is manifestly getting more rude. When, after a stage is done, I give, at Quist's dictation, four or five skillings to the man who has come to take back the horses--and four or five skillings are only about three-halfpence--the poor fellow takes off his cowl, thrusts a huge coarse hand into the carriage to shake mine, and utters his 'Tak, tak' (thanks, thanks) with an _empressement_ beaming in his honest visage which affects while it amuses me, it being impossible to see a fellow-creature so profoundly gratified by anything so trifling, without at once seeing that his share of the comforts of life must be small indeed, and feeling contrite at the recollection of the very slight impression which blessings incomparably greater make upon myself.

At Sletsvig occurs an undoubted ancient moraine, exactly like that at Mosshuus, being composed of huge angular blocks mixed with clayey matter. As it lies opposite a side valley, which here comes in from the west, it may have been a product of that valley; though I am inclined to regard it rather as the accumulation left by the glacier of the Logan vale after it had shrunk up to this point. On the inner side, looking up the main valley, there is a bed of sand, evidently laid down by water, and which it seems allowable to regard as the memorial of a time when this moraine served as a barrier, confining the waters of the river in the form of a lake. In this part of the valley there is a system of irrigation extensively practised by means of wooden troughs laid down along the hill-sides. The cheapness of the material makes it of course highly available. On my journey to-day I met few persons of any kind: amongst these were children offering little platefuls of the wild strawberry for sale. A couple of skillings for a plateful was evidently received as a great prize. Owing apparently to a change in the stratification, the valley makes a rectangular bend at _Viig_--a word, by the way, expressive of a _bend_, being identical with Wick, which so often occurs in Britain in names of places signifying a bay. The Viig station, which is a superior one, is said to contain in its walls some of the timbers of the house in which St Olaf was born--a fact strange if true, seeing that this saint, who was a king of Norway, lived in the tenth century.

Having sent on no forebud to-day, I experienced some delay at each station while fresh horses were procuring from the neighbouring farmers. Leaving Quist to bring on the carriage from Solheim, I walked forward to examine at leisure the scene of a remarkable historical event in which some countrymen of mine were concerned. Above the junction of a tributary from the west, the valley of the Logan becomes still more contracted than formerly. The hill-side, steep to an unusual degree, and rough with large blocks fallen from above, descends to the left bank of the river, leaving no level stripe to form a road. The public road is, in fact, by a preference of circumstances, conducted along the hill-face fully a hundred feet above the stream. In the year 1612, when the king of Denmark and Norway was at war with the king of Sweden, a Colonel Mönnichhofen was despatched to Scotland to hire troops for the assistance of the latter sovereign. He, with 1400 men, landed near Trondheim, and after an ineffectual attempt to surprise that city, made his way through Norway by Stordalen into Sweden. A second party of 900 men, under Colonel George Sinclair, landed a fortnight later at Romsdalen, and endeavoured to pass into Sweden by a different path. As all regular troops had been draughted away from Norway to fight the king of Denmark's battles, there seemed little likelihood of any difficulty being encountered on the march. The peasantry, however, became exasperated by the extortion of free provisions, and those of three parishes in this district assembled for the purpose of opposing the Scotch. According to a Norwegian ballad, which has been spiritedly translated by David Vedder--

----'the news flew east, the news flew west, And north and south it flew; Soon Norway's peasant chivalry Their fathers' swords they drew.

The beacons blazed on every hill, The fiery cross flew fast; And the mountain warriors serried stood, Fierce as the northern blast....

The boors of Lessie, Vaage, and Froen, Seized axe, and scythe, and brand-- "Foredoomed is every felon Scot Who stains our native land!"'[5]

A guide in the interest of the peasants conducted the Scottish party towards the narrow defile which has been described. The peasants themselves were gathered in force on the mountains above. As it was impossible for them to see what was going on in the pass, they caused a man mounted on a white horse to pass to the other side of the river, and move a little way in front of the advancing enemy, that they might know when he was near at hand. At the same time a girl was placed on the other side of the Logan, to attract the attention of the Scots by sounding her rustic horn. When the unfortunate strangers had thus been led to the most suitable place, the boors tumbled down huge stones upon them from the mountain-top, destroying them, to use their own expression, like potsherds. Then descending with sword and gun, they completed the destruction of the Scots. There is a romantic story, which seems far from likely, that Sinclair had been accompanied on this occasion by his wife. It is added that a young lady of the neighbourhood, hearing of this, and anxious to save an innocent individual of her own sex, sent her lover to protect the lady in the impending assault. Mrs Sinclair, seeing him approach, and mistaking his object, shot him dead. Some accounts represent the immediate destruction of the Scottish party as complete, excepting only that two men escaped. One more probable states that sixty were taken prisoners, and kept by the peasants till next spring, when, provisions failing, and the government making no movement in the matter, the poor captives were put into a barn and murdered in cold blood, only two escaping, of whom one survived to be the progenitor of a family still dwelling in these wilds. Such were the circumstances of the bloody affair of Kringelen, to commemorate which a little wooden monument has been erected on the wayside, at the precise spot where the Scottish party was surprised. The grave of Sinclair is also pointed out in the neighbouring churchyard of Quham. An inspection of the scene of the massacre gives a thrilling sense of the utterly desperate circumstances of the Scottish troops when beset by the Norwegian boors. One looks round with horror on the blocks scattered along the hill-side, every one of which had destroyed a life. 'Now all is peaceful, all is still,' on the spot where this piece of savage warfare was acted, save that which only marks the general silence--the murmur of the river. Resting here for a while, I could not but enter a mental protest against the triumphant spirit with which the affair is still referred to by the Norwegians, seeing that the assailants fought at such advantage, not to speak of the safety in which they fought, that nothing but the grossest misconduct could have failed to give them a victory. The grace of a generous mercy would have been worth twice their boast. I walked on about a mile to a hamlet where there is a sort of rustic museum, devoted to keeping certain relics of the Scottishmen. In the inner chamber of a little cottage a woman showed me, ranged along a wall, five matchlocks, two of them very long, two Highland dirks, a broadsword, a spur, two powder flasks, the wooden tube of a drum, and a small iron-hooped box. The sight of these objects so near the scene of the slaughter helps wonderfully to realise it; and it is impossible for a Scotsman at least to look on them without emotion. I thought, however, of the mercy of Providence, which causes the waves of time to close over the most terrible and the most distressing things, sweeping away all the suffering--exhaling calamity, as it were, into air--and leaving only perhaps a few tangible objects to remind us by association that 'such things were.'

In the evening I arrived at Laurgaard, where it was necessary to spend the night.

R. C.

FOOTNOTES:

[2] I am told that these habits do not exist in good society at Christiania.

[3] The greatest summer height of the Miösen Lake is 430 feet; the winter height, 410. Finding the level at this time ten feet below the mark considered as that of highest water, I considered the lake as being now 420 feet above the sea.

[4] Laug in Norwegian signifies _water_. It is a generic term here specially applied.

[5] See Tait's Edinburgh Magazine, September 1837, where the original ballad is also given.

LONDON GOSSIP.

_November, 1849._

The long vacation is over--cholera has flown away, or gone into winter quarters--the raising of blinds and unclosing of shutters in stylish streets indicate the return of families whose absence has been prolonged by fears of contagion--business, long stagnant, is reviving--street-traffic is resuming its wonted density--the new Lord Mayor has 'showed' himself, as of old--the November fogs are entombing us in their fuliginous darkness--all of which, whether fact, figure, or fancy, is an intimation that we are in the advent of another London season.