CHAPTER XXIX.HOMEWARD BOUND.

And, now, my good friends, I’ve a fine opportunityTo obfuscate you all by sea terms with impunity.And talking of “caulking,”And “quarter-deck walking,”“Fore and aft,”And “abaft,”“Hookers,” “barkeys,” and “craft,”(At which Mr. Poole has so wickedly laught);Of “binnacles,” “bilboes,” the boom called the “spanker,”The best “bower cable,” the “jib,” and “sheet anchor;”Of “lower-deck guns,” and of “broadsides and chases;”Of “taff-rails” and “top-sails,” and “splicing main braces,”And “shiver my timbers,” and other odd phrasesEmployed by old pilots with hard-featured faces;Of the expletives sea-faring gentlemen use,—The allusions they make to the eyes of their crews.Ingoldsby.

And, now, my good friends, I’ve a fine opportunity

To obfuscate you all by sea terms with impunity.

And talking of “caulking,”

And “quarter-deck walking,”

“Fore and aft,”

And “abaft,”

“Hookers,” “barkeys,” and “craft,”

(At which Mr. Poole has so wickedly laught);

Of “binnacles,” “bilboes,” the boom called the “spanker,”

The best “bower cable,” the “jib,” and “sheet anchor;”

Of “lower-deck guns,” and of “broadsides and chases;”

Of “taff-rails” and “top-sails,” and “splicing main braces,”

And “shiver my timbers,” and other odd phrases

Employed by old pilots with hard-featured faces;

Of the expletives sea-faring gentlemen use,—

The allusions they make to the eyes of their crews.

Ingoldsby.

TheHaabetdid not sail that night, which indeed was hardly possible, her Captain being employed in dancing, and making love, and singing, in the words of Karl Bellman,—

“Awake, Amaryllis! my dearest, awaken,—Let me not go to sea by my true love forsaken,—Our course among dolphins and mermaids is taken:Onwards shall paddle our boat to the sea.”

“Awake, Amaryllis! my dearest, awaken,—

Let me not go to sea by my true love forsaken,—

Our course among dolphins and mermaids is taken:

Onwards shall paddle our boat to the sea.”

Neither did theHaabetsail on the morrow, for the wind had chopped round to the south-west; neither did she sail the next day, for there was a dead calm;—there was plenty of time for leave-taking, and a leisurely journey to Christiansand besides, which was accomplished in the carioles—their last journey, as Tom feelingly remarked. The Captainarrived at Ullitz’s, a good hour behind the rest, who would not wait for the end of his last conference with Lilla Nordlingen.—They were, besides, a little anxious about the weather, for the season was somewhat advanced, and everything was so deadly calm, that it was quite evident a change of some sort was at hand.

What that change was, the next morning made manifest enough, for the wind was roaring round the house, and the rain pattering furiously against the windows long before the sun was up.

However, the old copper lion that surmounted the church had veered round again, and was turning his battle-axe towards England, and Jan Torgensen—Captain Torgensen we should call him now in virtue of his new command, and in truth he was not a little proud of the title himself,—came in just as a very sulky breakfast was completed, and announced, “that as the wind was fair, he did not care the scale of a herring how much there was of it, and that this night should be spent at sea.”

No one was sorry for this announcement, not even Birger, who was going back to Nordlingen’s, as he said, “in order to console Ariadne for the desertion of her faithless Theseus.” The pleasures of the summer had departed, and it was useless to linger over the scenes of past enjoyments. At Nordlingen’s perhaps the time might have passed pleasantly enough, notwithstanding the change of weather, but Christiansand has but few resources for a rainy day; and besides this, the very idea of a prolonged parting is depressing. Torkel was gone, and Tom was much too low for a story or a joke. There were, however, some marine difficulties—there always are; papers are never ready, and agents are always behind time, and thus, though every one was anxious to be off, and none less than Torgensen himself, who grudged every blast of the fair wind, it was full five o’clock before the anchor broke ground; and a cake, the last token of Marie’s affection, having been previously placed on the taffrail for Nyssen, theHaabetturned her stern to the blast, and set her fore-sail, and hoisted a couple of double reefed top-sails to receive it. The rain redoubled—certainly if Gammle Norgéhad received them with smiles, she honoured their departure with tears.

The first thing that met the Captain’s eye, as he turned from waving the last farewell to Birger’s receding boat, was the pilot, roaring drunk already, and the mate supplying him with no end of additional brandy. He went forward to draw Torgensen’s attention to this apparently dangerous breach of naval discipline.

“Be quiet,” said Torgensen, in broken English, “the mate knows very well what he is about, I supplied him with the brandy myself. That drunken rascal is sure to get us into a scrape, if he has sense enough left in his drunken body to fancy he can take charge of the ship; and I am obliged, by law, to take him drunk or sober. As soon as he gets too drunk to interfere, which I am happy to say will be the case very shortly, I shall pilot my own ship, and I should think I ought to know how to take her out of Christiansand by this time—we all do that; in fact, these drunken pilots are nothing but an incumbrance.” And an incumbrance in this instance he proved, for, Torgensen having safely carried his brig to the mouth of the fjord, they were obliged to heave to for the pilot’s boat, which kept them waiting for a good hour more. The Parson suggested taking him to sea; but Torgensen swore he had had too much of him already.

It was long after dark, therefore, when they passed the lighthouse, which they did in a furious squall of wind and rain, and stood out to sea under close reefed top-sails and reefed fore-sail, with two men at the helm, the brig steering as wild as if the Nyssen were blowing on both quarters at once, but dashing away through it for all that, and heaping up the sea under her bluff bows.

The whole surface was one vast blaze of phosphoric light—the ship’s ragged wake was a track of wavering flame, the water that broke from her bows was a cataract of fire, a rope that was towing under her counter (Torgensen was not at all particular about these little matters), was ten times more visible than it would have been by broad daylight, for every strand in it was clearly defined by lines of delicate blue flame, while each breaking wave was a flash of brightness. Thewind was as fair as it could be, and as they drew out from under the lee of the land, seemed enough to tear the sails from their bolt ropes.

“Hurrah for Nyssen!” shouted Torgensen; but he shouted a little too soon, for not an hour afterwards they were close hauled with a south-west wind, dead foul, dancing like a cork in a mill pond, on the top of a tumbling cross sea, and plodding along at barely three knots; not even looking up within four points of their course.

And the next day, and the next night, and the next, the same monotonous story; only as the wind settled to the south-west, the bubble went down, and it was not so difficult to walk the three steps and a half, which formed theHaabet’squarter-deck.

Still the only answer to the anxiously repeated morning question of “How is her head,” was, when most favourable, “half a point southward of west,—think we shall weather the Naze, please God.”

Torgensen was always in high spirits, and was as proud of his new command, the Captain said, as a peacock with two tails; and she really had qualities of which a commander might well be proud, as a sea-boat,—but these did not comprehend either beauty, or comfort, or speed.

There is no between decks in a Norwegian timber brig, the whole space being occupied with its bulky cargo, much of which lumbers up the waist, and forecastle besides; the crew inhabited a small hurricane-house just abaft the mainmast; a very small slip of this was bulk-headed off for the mate,—while the remainder—and a very small remainder it was—served the crew for parlour, and kitchen and all, for there was no other cookery place in the ship; in one sense this was an advantage, for they could cook in the worst of weathers, and this is not always practicable in a merchant ship; but if they did get this advantage over the wind and rain, it was, as the Captain remarked, a very dirty advantage indeed. All that there was of cover below the deck, was a very small sail-room aft, also used as a bread-room; before this was the Captain’s cabin, measuring exactly eight feet bysix, which served for Torgensen and his two passengers, and for a purser’s store-room into the bargain, with all its indescribable stinks. After a very little practice, the Captain declared he could always tell the tack they were on, by the particular description of stink that was uppermost, and used to say that they had got their starboard or port stinks on board, as the case might be.

The bread alone of the ship’s provisions was under cover; the beef and pork was stored in harness casks, lashed to the bulwarks, thus diminishing still more the very diminutive quarter-deck. In fact, a quarter-deck walk was what none of them ever thought of.

Hurrah!—the Naze bearing N.N.E., and all dangers of a lee-shore past: a lee-shore in timber ships is no joke; they never sink—they cannot, for the Norwegian deals and baulks being of less specific gravity than water, the ship that carries them would be buoyed up even if water-logged, but their very want of specific gravity is the cause of their danger on a lee-shore; besides being full below, the whole deck is lumbered up for six feet or more, and the centre of gravity is so high that they are all crank to the most ticklish degree; and, though invariably carrying very low sail, require every attention to keep them on their legs; for this reason, if caught on a lee-shore in anything like a breeze, they can never claw off, for they can carry nothing without tumbling over on their beam ends. For this reason, every Norwegian is very careful of an offing, it is the only thing he seems to care much about. When the wind changed, every ship that the fair breeze had tempted out of Christiansand that day had put back, and Torgensen only had held on, partly because he knew the comparatively weatherly qualities of his brig, but principally because he was young and foolish.

Toward evening the wind drew round to the northward, and the brig was able, first to lie her course, then to shake out the reefs from her topsails, and lastly, having brailed up her fore and aft mainsail, to display a very ragged suit of studding-sails, which together got a fathom or two over sixknots out of her—the very top of her speed,—and the Naze slowly sank below the horizon, fading into blue as it sank.

But this good luck was not to hold; fine weather returned, but with it calm and light baffling breezes, with the ship’s head looking every way except that which she was wanted to go. Singular as anything of cleanliness seems among people who personally rejoice in dirt, there was more fuss in cleaning decks than is to be seen in many a man-of-war; the very cabin-deck was holy-stoned every morning, as well as the quarter-deck; though so far as the latter was concerned, this was rendered absolutely useless by the abominable habit of spitting, for which the Norwegians deserve as much notice as the Americans themselves, and which they do not yet only “quia carent vate sacro,” because they have not a Mrs. Trollope to write about them. In the present instance this was the more inexcusable, because the northern style of ship-building pinches in their ships so much aft, that a man with strong lungs might set on the weather bulwark, and with ease spit over the lee-quarter.

As for seamanship, there are no smarter seamen in the world than the Norwegians when there is need, or more slovenly when there is not; but how they contrive to navigate their ships is a mystery which none but a Norwegian can solve. The whole of it is done by dead reckoning, with, in the North Sea at least, a pretty liberal use of the lead: besides the deep-sea lead, their only nautical instruments are the log, and what they call the “pein-compassen.” This last is a compass-card made of wood, and marked with thirty-two lines corresponding to the points, and drawn from the centre to the circumference, on which centre revolves freely a brass needle of equal length with the lines.

On starting, the true bearing of the destined port, or of some remarkable point or headland which must be sighted during their voyage, is taken, and the “pein-compassen” is fixed to the binnacle, with that part set towards the head of the vessel. This, for that particular voyage, is called “thesteering line;” and so long as the true compass tallies with its wooden brother—that is to say, so long as the ship looks up for her port,—the whole run is given her at the end of each watch; but, in traverse sailing, the two compasses must of course point different ways. In this case, at the end of the watch if the wind has been steady, or whenever the ship, from tacking, or any other cause, alters her course or her rate of sailing, the brass needle on the “pein-compassen” is turned to that point of the compass to which the ship’s head has actually been lying, and a line is drawn from that point with chalk, intersecting the “steering line” at right angles. The part cut off between the centre of the compass and the point of intersection gives the actual gain in distance to the port towards which she is bound, and answers to the cosine of our more scientific nomenclature. This, with some corrections for lee-way, is given to her, while the chalk line drawn from the point of the moveable needle to the point of intersection, which answers to our sine, gives the number of miles which the adverse wind has compelled her to diverge from her course, and which must be compensated for by a corresponding deviation on the other tack.

Thus it is that, day after day, the ship’s reckoning is kept, not by calculation, but by actual measurement, performed by a pair of compasses on a graduated scale; and, clumsy as this contrivance may seem, they do navigate their ships with an accuracy that might put some of our merchant skippers to shame,—to say nothing of the masters in Her Majesty’s Navy.[64]

So far as the North Sea goes, which is the principal scene of Norwegian navigation, this mode of reckoning is considerably assisted by the lead,—indeed, it would be hardly too much to say that these timber ships are navigated by the lead alone. The soundings of the whole North Sea are accurately marked, and it so happens that there is considerable variety in the sand which the arming brings up; besides which there are a good many “pits,” as they are called—thatis to say, small spaces, some of them not a mile across, in which, for some unexplained reason, the depth is suddenly increased. Should the ship be so fortunate as to strike one of these, they are so accurately noted in the charts, that it is as good as a fresh departure.

It was about a week or ten days after the Naze—the last point of Norway—had faded from their sight, like a dim blue cloud, that the Parson was sitting or lying at the foot of the foremast in a soft niche, which he had arranged for himself among the deck timber, and had called his study. He was reading, for the books which they had brought with them, and which, hitherto, they had had neither time nor inclination to look into, were now very acceptable indeed. The Captain, sitting on the bulwark abreast of him, and steadying himself by the after-swifter, was watching the proceedings of some visitors who had come on board the preceding evening—a kestrel and half-a-dozen swallows. The swallows were so tired when they came on board, that they readily perched on the fingers that were held out to them, and one of them had passed the night on the battens in the mate’s cabin. The hawk did not seem a bit the worse for his journey; he was seated very composedly on the quarter of the top-gallant yard close to the mast, where he was pleasantly occupied in preparing his breakfast off one of the swallows, who had risen earlier than his companions, and who did not exactly realise the proverb about the “early bird finding the worm,”—on the contrary, he had been found himself, and was thus ministering to the wants of the hungry, while his brethren, having now recovered their strength by their night’s rest, were flitting unconcernedly about the masts and yards, just as on shore they had flitted round the church steeple, and were wondering, no doubt, what had become of all the flies.

“As this is only the middle of September,” said the Parson, looking up at the birds, “it is evident that the migration of swallows must begin in the North first, and that previous to their leaving our shores, the English swallows must receive a large addition to their numbers; a fact which, so far as I know, naturalists have not noticed.”

“Or else,” said the Captain, “that they shift their quarters,like a regiment that has got its route, and march by detachments—one relieving the other. Ah!”—with a long sigh—“I wish I had wings like a swallow!”

“Pooh! nonsense!” said the Parson; “we shall get on shore some time or other; everyone does, except the ‘ancient mariner.’ ‘Good times, bad times, all times pass over.’”

“So they do; but all this is so much waste of life. Here am I, sitting dangling my legs over the sides of this cursed brig, knowing all the time that my friends are knocking the partridges about. Who can give me back my 1st of September? Besides,” he added, in a grumbling tone, “I want a clean dinner, if it is only by way of a novelty; I can rough it as well as anyone for the time, as you know, but a course of such living as this will poison a man.”

The Parson laughed.

“It does, I assure you! I have often seen it in the West Indies; when a nigger takes to eating dirt, he always dies, and I should think a little of that would go a great way with a white man.”

“Well, you know it is said that ‘every man must eat his peck of dirt in the course of his life.’”

“That’s exactly the thing; we are allowed a peck of dirt, as you say, to last our lives, but you see if we stay here much longer, we shall soon get to the end of our allowance. What do you think I saw yesterday? When I went below, I could smell the cook had been there; you say yourself that you are always obliged to open the skylight whenever he comes near the cabin. You know what a beastly miserable day it was, and as I had nothing to do, I thought I would turn in and try to sleep away a little time, and get a little warm. I felt the pillow rather too high, and, putting my hand under it, I found the dish of plok fiske we were to have for dinner stowed away there to keep it warm! Bother that skipper, he is going about again,” as the Norwegian equivalent for “raise tacks and sheets” came grumbling on his ear, and the men lounged lazily to their stations; “he’s as frightened at the shore as if it was Scylla and Charybdis, and the Mäelström into the bargain. If he would only hold on three or four hours more, we might sight Flamborough Head, andget on board an English collier and enjoy a little cleanliness.”

“Ah! you will not enjoy that luxury for this voyage,” said the Parson; “the English ships always keep inside the line of sandbanks on the Norfolk coast; almost all we have met outside, as you may have remarked, are foreigners.”

“Outside barbarians!” said the Captain, who was not in a good humour.

By this time the clue-garnets had been leisurely manned, one at a time, and the mainsail was hanging in festoons from its yard; Torgensen himself steering, as, indeed, he had done for the last hour, and also giving the word of command. The wind was as light as could be, so that it really did not signify, except for fidgettiness, on which tack she was.

The helm had been a-lee for about a minute, and the men were at their stations for “mainsail haul,” while the brig went creeping and creeping into the wind. The men began sniggering and joking to one another, but their jokes being Norwegian, were for the most part lost on the passengers.

“What is that young fool about?” said the Parson, who had not risen from his recumbent posture; “he will have the brig in irons before he can look round. Jump up and see what is the matter.”

The Captain scrambled on to the forebitts, so as to look over the hurricane-house, and burst out laughing. “Bother the fellow! if he is not reading ‘Peter Simple,’[65]and jamming his helm hard a-lee with his hinder end. Why, Torgensen! Torgensen! what the Devil are you about? the brig has been in the wind this half-hour!”

Torgensen started up, flinging his book on the deck, righted his helm, and bellowed out his next command. It was loud enough to startle the mermaids in their coral caves; but noise will not compensate for slackness; the brig was already nearly head to wind, and there she hung—she would not go an inch farther for any one, and at last fell off again. Torgensen was obliged to wear her, after all.

He swore, however, he did it on purpose, in order to geta cast of the lead, as he had not got one for the whole watch. This did not seem to the Parson so very indispensable, seeing that in the whole of that forenoon watch they had not shifted their position four miles; nevertheless, to suit the action to the word, Torgensen did lay his main top-sail aback, and armed his lead with as much gravity as if he really expected that the sand and shells brought up by this cast would be different from the sand and shells brought up by the last.

“I tell you what, though, ‘it is an ill wind that blows nobody good,’—we may get a cod while Torgensen is sending his note to the mermaids; jump below and get up the lines. The rind of that ham we had for breakfast will be a dainty such as Tom Cod is not likely to meet with often in the haaf, and it will be a pleasing variety to that eternal plok fiske, if we can get one. By the way, that salt fish has got desperately hard; I saw the carpenter pounding our dinner with the back of his axe yesterday, before the cook could do anything with it.”

Whether Tom Cod would have been duly sensible of the honour that was done him, and would have accepted the line of invitation which the Captain had sent him for the next day’s dinner, it is impossible to say, for, unfortunately, he never received it. The whole bank abounded with hungry dog fish, and the bait never got a dozen fathoms over the side before it was seized by them. However, it was all fish that came to net; dog fish are not esteemed on shore, but place the diner on board ship, give him three weeks of calms and foul winds, short provisions, and those provisions principally dried fish, with a piece of salt horse for a luxury on Sunday, and even dog fish will come to be appreciated at their just value.

It was about the middle of the dog watch in the same day—when, according to the theory of the Norwegian marine, everybody is supposed to be on deck for his own pleasure, and, according to matter of fact, everybody is below, sleeping, or talking, or cooking, or mending his clothes,—when the Parson, whose time began to hang a little weary on his hands, was yawning about theHaabet’squarter-deck, with his hands in his pockets.

The Norwegian dog watch must not be confounded with the English watches of the same name. In the Swedish or Norwegian navy, the twenty-four hours are divided into five watches instead of seven, as with us. These, beginning at 8 p.m., are called the first watch, the night watch, the morning watch, the forenoon watch, and the dog watch, respectively, of which the first four consist of four hours each, and the last of eight. The dog watch comprehends the time from noon to 8 p.m. It is, of course, impossible for human strength and human endurance to keep it properly, but it is permitted to be kept in a slack sort of way by the whole ship’s company conjointly, one watch being indeed responsible for the duty, but not being forbidden to go below, provided their place, for the time, be taken by amateurs.[66]The natural effect of this is, that the whole watch is kept very slackly indeed, even in men-of-war; in fact, at the particular time specified, there was no one whatever on the deck of theHaabet, except Torgensen, who, as before, was steering, and the Parson, who had come on deck because the Captain was snoring so loud, and who, as luck would have it, was looking over the bulwarks to windward.

The day had continued calm and hot, as September days often are, and the ship was not many miles from the place in which she had missed stays in the morning. She was close hauled, but carrying everything that would draw.

“Torgensen,” said he, “I think you had better look out; there is something coming down upon us, that looks verylike an invitation from your friends the mermaids.[67]I should like to send an excuse.”

“O, The Thousand!” said Torgensen: “God forgive me for swearing, at such a time;” and shoving the helm into the Parson’s hands, he seized a handspike, and began to belabour the deck.

On all ordinary occasions there had been a good deal of republican slackness on board theHaabet, the men doing what they were told, but doing it leisurely, and in anonchalantsort of way. It did not much signify, for in blue water and calm weather, it makes little difference whether the manœuvres are performed smartly or not.[68]But assuming the handspike was like taking up the dictatorship; there was no want of smartness now; the men buzzed out from their hurricane-house, like bees out of a hive, some half dressed, some stuffing a handful of plok fiske into their mouths, but all rushing to their stations, as if the very tautest-handed boatswain in the British service was at their heels.

It so happened that Torgensen had been fitting up a fore-sail of his own, which he called a fok; a stoutish spar held the place of foot rope, which, though it diminished the area of the sail, certainly had the effect of making it stand better when close hauled; but that which he prided himself most upon, was his substitute for clue-garnets, which consisted of two ropes, which, rove through blocks at the quarter of the yard, led before the sail through a block at the clue, then to the yard-arm, and then along the yard; thus, embracing the sail, acting as spilling-lines and clue-garnets at once, and hauling it up, as it were, like a curtain in a theatre.

The square main-sail was by this time clewed up, and, hadnot Torgensen’s head been full of this invention, he probably would have seen the necessity of casting off the sheet of the fore and aft main-sail, as he passed, supposing he had not time or hands to man the brails; as it was, the fore-sail came in most sweetly, and Torgensen, forgetting his captainship, skipped up the rigging, and was out at the weather earring, like a monkey up a cocoa-nut tree.

Just then the squall struck her. Naturally the brig carried a lee helm, but at this moment, relieved of her fore-sail, and at the same time pressed upon by the whole force of the squall in her main-sail, she griped obstinately,—a propensity which the Parson had originated by steering as near as he could, in order to shake the wind out of the top-sails while the men were reefing. Things began to look serious; not a soul was on deck, every man being out on the yards, which, so soon as the sails began thrashing in the wind, jumped and jerked so furiously, that it was as much as any of them could do to hold on; the brig lay over, so that the water not only bubbled through her scuppers, but came pouring in over her bulwarks, and the Parson, with both hands clutching the bulwarks, was driving the helm a-weather with his stomach, while his feet were slipping one after the other on the wet and slanting deck.

Just at that moment the Captain—his coat and shoes off, his head tied up in a pocket handkerchief, and his eyes scarce opened, just as he had roused up from his slumbers,—showed an astonished face above the hatchway.

“Hallo! what’s the matter now? who spilt the milk?”

“Jump! and let go that main-sheet! cut it if you can’t get at it any other way! but take the sail off her at any rate, or in two minutes we shall be at Fiddler’s Green.”

The Captain was wide enough awake to see that things were rather too serious for a joke, and scrambled up to windward as well as he could. Round rattled the sheaves, as if they would set fire to their blocks; away flew the sheet through them, the slack of it whipping the deck right and left, and barely missing the Captain, while the end of the main boom plunged into the water, wetting the sail half way up. The brig, eased of the strain, slowly and reluctantly paid off,while Torgensen, still seated at the weather yard-arm, with his legs twisted round it, holding on by the earring with both hands, with his breast straining against the lift to which he seemed to be holding on with his chin, and his hat, the while, which had been secured round his neck by a lanyard, fluttering and dancing to leeward, just nodded down on deck, as if to say, “all right my boys, I knew you would do the needful,” and then went on with his work as if nothing particular had happened.

The squall, however, was only the prelude to a change of wind; in less than an hour’s time she was able, not only to shake out her reefs again, but to lie her course, and to jog along it merrily.

Towards the close of the next day they were looking out sharp for the Outer Garboard Buoy, which, out of sight of land, marks the mouth of the Thames, and, strange to say, after a cruise of three weeks’ traverse sailing, hit it to a nicety,[69]and on the following morning, when the fishermen came on deck, they had the satisfaction of seeing, for the first time since the Naze had sunk in the horizon, not only land, but land on both sides of them, of which that on their starboard beam bore a very strong resemblance to the old South Foreland.

“England again!” said the Captain. “Hurrah for England and partridges!—what the deuce are you squinting at on the French coast, Parson?”

“A very interesting sight for us,” said the Parson, putting the telescope into his hands, “though not on theFrench coast; look at that sail, and tell me what you make of her.”

The Captain took a long view. “A lugger I think, coming down before the wind, wing-and-wing.”

“The very thing, and of course bound for England: if all goes right, we shall nearly cross her, and that in less than an hour.”

“Then hurrah for a leg of mutton!”—for it should be said theHaabetwas bound for Bordeaux, to exchange her timber for the light St. Julien’s claret, of which so much is drunk in the north, and the fishermen had taken their passage in her on the chance, which amounted to almost a certainty, of meeting with an English coaster that would put them on shore somewhere. This they had not been able to meet with on the east coast, for foreigners are too much afraid of the shoals to allow themselves to go near a track which, by English vessels, is as well beaten as a turnpike road.

“A leg of mutton!” said the Parson; “you are as bad as a Swede,—always thinking of your dinner.”

“Upon my word, I have eaten such a lot of trash in that country that it is very excusable to long for the sweet simplicity of English roast and boiled; we have not had one single wholesome, unsophisticated meal since we got there; it was all grease, and sugar, and gravy, and preserves, except, indeed, where we boiled our own salmon on the Torjedahl, or toasted our own ‘mutton,’ as Moodie calls it, at the skal.”

“Ah, poor Moodie! I wonder whether he has found out yet that mutton is not made out of elk’s meat? But that lugger is nearing us fast; I think we had better talk to Torgensen about it, and get our traps on deck.”

Torgensen was sorry to part with his passengers, and they, though to a certain extent reciprocating his grief, were much more sorry to part from Torgensen than from theHaabet. But, sorry or glad, it was all the same, the brig and the lugger, on their respective courses, rapidly approached each other; a weft hoisted by the former was answered by the latter, and,in a few minutes, her mast-heads were seen bobbing about over the brig’s lee quarter.

Less than half a minute sufficed to transfer the fishermen and their belongings from one deck to the other, and then, hands shaking,—caps waving,—hoist away the lugs,—and up-helm for merry England.

Away flew the lugger, “her white wings flying,”—it could not be added “never from her foes,” for she turned out afterwards to be a noted smuggler that no revenue cutter could ever catch. Up rose the white cliffs,—plainer and plainer grew the objects on shore: now the white houses of Dover came in view,—then the sheep on the downs, and the men on the piers,—then the rising sunbeams flashed back a merry welcome from the windows,—then the pier-heads opened, with the tide bubbling up against them like a river in flood, which, taking the lugger under the counter, gave her a final slew, as she rushed between them,—then through the inner harbour, and down sails, carrying on with the way already acquired,—then run up alongside the Custom-house quay.

“Home at last!” said the Captain, as he leaped on shore.

Hic longæ finis chartæque viæque.

THE END.

PRINTED BY COX (BROS.) AND WYMAN, GREAT QUEEN STREET.

FOOTNOTES[1]The families of Lejonhöved and Svinhöved were conspicuous in the wars of Gustavus Vasa, at which time Sweden threw off the yoke which Denmark, with the concurrence of Norway, had fixed on them, by taking undue advantage of the conditions stipulated in the Union of Calmar. The head of the former family perished in the treacherous massacre at Stockholm, generally spoken of by the name of the “Bloodbath.” Both families derive their names from their armorial bearings, as at that time there were no surnames in Sweden. These signify Lion-head and Boar-head, or Pig-head, respectively. Hence the Parson’s sarcasm.[2]Långref—a poaching method of catching fish.[3]Tjäder—the capercailzie. Taking him in his lek—that is to say, during his play, a very singular method which both the tjäder and the black-cock has of calling together the females of their respective species, is strictly contrary to law.[4]Fjeld Ripa—The mountain grouse; a bird something like our ptarmigan, the pursuit of which is always attended with toil, and sometimes danger.[5]According to ancient Scandinavian mythology, the earth, which is flat and surrounded by water, is continually guarded by Jörmungard the Sea Serpent, the daughter of Loki; who is so large that she encircles the whole earth, holding her tail in her mouth. She is sometimes called the Midgard Serpent;—Midgard meaning middle guard half way between the earth and the realms of the Hrimthursar, or Frost Giants, which is her post.[6]The god Kvasir, or Unerring Wisdom, was the joint offspring of all the gods, and was created to aid their negociations with the Vanir. His blood, sweetened by mead, forms the drink of Poetic Inspiration, which was guarded by Gunlauth, the daughter of Thjassi, the chief of the Frost Giants. Odin, who was her lover, prevailed on her to give it up to him, and it is at present lodged in the heights of Asgard. That Poetic Inspiration should be wisdom, sweetened by honey and guarded by love, is in itself a beautiful allegory—and not less beautiful that it should be won by the gods and lodged in Heaven;—but the generation of Kvasir involves a most curious anomaly, and that is, that the gods should be able to create a being more intelligent than themselves,—unless, indeed, we interpret the allegory as implying that mutual council is more unerring than the unaided intelligence of any individual.[7]The Indelta has very erroneously been stated, by one or two travellers in Sweden, to be the militia of the country. Sweden has a militia, and a very efficient force it is; but the Indelta is a feudal army raised and maintained by the holders of crown lands. The constitution of this force will be explained more fully hereafter; it is exclusively a Swedish institution, and does not exist in Norway.[8]“Come over the river.”[9]“Quick, here, with the boat! and so you shall have some money for drink.”[10]One of the wild ideas of Scandinavian mythology is, that the sun is the eye of Odin, and that he once had two like other people; but, that coming one day to the well of Mimiver, the waters of which are pure wisdom, he bargained for a draught, and bought the horn gjoll full at the price of one of his eyes; no such great quantity either, if gjoll be the original of our English gill. However, this fully accounts for the fact that the moon is not now so bright as the sun, which it probably once was. It must be confessed that the whole of this story is entirely inconsistent with the theory of the sun and moon in the prose “Edda,” where these are represented as separate and independent divinities, the son and daughter of the giant Mundilfari,—the sun being feminine and the moon masculine; a tradition contrary to the notions of our poets, but fully borne out by our English peasants, who invariably speak of the moon as “he,” and the sun as “she.”[11]Full-grown salmon have two or three ranges of very small teeth, whereas grauls (Scoticè, grilse) have only one. It is this distinction which, on the Erne, is technically termed “the mask,” and not the size, which determines the difference between a graul and a salmon.[12]An ort, or mark, is the fifth part of a specie-daler, equivalent to ninepence or tenpence of our money. A skilling is about the same as an English halfpenny; the word, however, is pronounced exactly the same as our English word shilling, thekbeing soft beforei; a circumstance which rather perplexes the stranger in his calculations.[13]Since the abolition of capital punishment in Norway—a measure that does not seem to answer at all—murderers are confined, like other criminals, in the castle at Christiania. They may be seen in dresses of which each sleeve and leg has its own colour, sweeping the streets and doing other public work; and a very disgusting sight it is. The average of crime is very high in Norway—perhaps higher than in any country known, and particularly crimes of violence. This may be accounted for, partly by their wonderful drunkenness, and partly by the very inefficient state of the Church, and the almost total absence of the religious element in an education which is artificially forced by state enactments. In Norway there is a very great disproportion between intellect and religion.[14]Manchester has its faults, and a good many of them, but among them all its Anglo-Saxon virtue of order and capacity for self-government come out in strong relief.“Where are your policemen?” asked the Duke, as he glanced at the masses that thronged the streets during the Queen’s visit,—perhaps the largest crowd that had ever been collected in England. The streets of the Borough of Manchester were not staked and corded off, and guarded by men in blue; but thousands of strong, active warehousemen and mechanics formed, by joining hands, a novel barricade. And in the evening, when numbers beyond computation were assembled in the streets to witness the illumination, amidst all the confusion there was nothing but good-humour.—Fraser.[15]Alluding to a custom in Norway, of mixing the inner rind of the birch tree with their rye meal, during times of scarcity.[16]The fisherman is very much recommended to tie his own flies for the Tay, or to get them at Edmondson’s. The author bought a good many pretty-looking specimens in the country, by way of patterns, all of which whipped to pieces in half-an-hour’s fishing. The fact is, there is a cheap way of tying flies, which it is impossible to detect by the eye; and it is just as well that the young fisherman should ask thecharacterof his tackle-maker before investing his money in such very ticklish wares; the worthlessness of which he will not find out till he reaches his fishing-ground. The author, a fisherman of some experience, has tied a good many flies in his time, and has had a good many tied for him by his attendants and other professionals on the river’s banks; but the only tradespeople he has ever found trustworthy, in all points, in such matters are, Chevalier, of Bell-yard, London, and Edmondson, of Church-street, Liverpool. Their flies have never failed him, whether in their hooks, their gut, or their tying. All that the fisherman will want in their shops will be a little science, to enable him to choose his colours,and a little money to enable him to pay his bills.[17]The real scene of this piscatorial exploit is on the Mandahl river. There is a Hell Fall on the Torjedahl also; indeed, the name is common in Norway, and in Sweden too, so as to become almost generic for a dark, gloomy rush of waters; but the Hell Fall of the Torjedahl is inaccessible to salmon, which, notwithstanding all that Inglis says to the contrary, are unable to surmount the great falls of Wigeland about a mile below it. It is, therefore, worthless as a fishing-place; and, the author suspects, altogether too dangerous to be attempted without good reason. When the water is low, the fall of the Mandahl may be fished in the ordinary manner from a boat, and it is well worth the trial; but if the river be full, the birch rope will be found necessary.[18]The lower part of the Torjedahl is perfectly free from musquitoes, which cannot be said of all the rivers in Norway; this probably is owing to its rapidity, and to the absence of all tributaries and still water.[19]It is no inaccuracy to give Birger a Scotch song, for there is a considerable infusion of Scotch blood among the Swedes, and Scotch family names are by no means uncommon among the nobility. In fact, Scotch names are to be met with even in their national ballads: for instance—It was young Folmer SkotWho rode by dale and hill,And after rides Morton of Fogelsang,Who bids him hear his will.[20]The thirtieth of April.[21]Lie still, my child;In the morning comes FinThy father,And gives thee Esberne Snorre’s eyes and heart to play with.[22]Esberne Snorre is the Danish Faust. In no country whatever was the reformation popular among the peasantry, and therefore the popular legends invariably assign the leaders and causes of it to the devil, as in the case of Faust himself, who, whatever Goëthe may say, really was a very respectable tradesman, and had no more to do with the devil than is involved in the invention of that art which became so powerful an instrument in the hands of reformers—printing. Esberne Snorre was what very few of the Danish Reformers were, a really good and conscientious man, who might well have built the Church of Kallendborg, or even have given his eyes for it. Nevertheless, pre-eminently before all the reformers, the devil carries him off bodily in every legend of the time, just as he did Faust.[23]Equivalent to “spoiling a market” in Ireland, or “opening a Sheriff’s ball” in England,—“Goth’s garden” being the cant name for a place of execution in Stockholm, which is adorned with permanent gibbets, and is so called from the name of the first man who was hanged there. The saying is Swedish, not Norwegian, not only because it is local, but because there are no capital punishments at all in Norway.[24]Christina, daughter of the great Gustavus Adolphus, a popular and able sovereign, abdicated voluntarily,—wearied of the toils of government,—and is said to have uttered some such speech as that attributed to her by Torkel on crossing the little stream which in those days separated her late dominions from those of Denmark.[25]Between “the two lights,”—that is to say, twilight,—is always the time in which all spirits of the middle earth have the greatest power; of course the reason is, that seen indistinctly in the doubtful light of morning or evening, natural objects take strange forms, and exhibit appearances which are ascribed to the supernatural.[26]A sort of scallop, of very beautiful colour.[27]In the Swedish Church there used to be a regular private confession made to the priest before every Communion, on which occasion an offertory, called confession-money, was deposited on the altar. It is, indeed, the rule of the Church still, though, since a royal ordinance, in 1686, forbade penitents to select their own confessors, confining them to the priest of their parish, the custom has fallen into disuse; still the old expressions are frequently retained.[28]The mal is said to be a great-headed, wide-mouthed monster, with a long beard, of the same colour as the eel; and, like the eel, slimy and without any perceptible scales. It is said to grow to the length of twelve or fourteen feet, to weigh three or four hundred pounds, and to carry on his back fin a strong, sharp lance, which it can elevate or depress at pleasure. It is supposed to lie seeking whom or what it may devour in the deepest and muddiest holes of rivers or lakes. The author has heard this fish talked of very often, but has never seen one, and believes fully that it may safely be classed with the Black Horse, the Mid-Gard Serpent, and Dr. Clarke’s Furia Infernalis.[29]The leading fish of each shoal, or school, as it is called,—usually a salmon of considerable weight and experience—is so termed by the Irish fishermen.[30]Frue is properly a title of nobility, and is of Danish origin. No Norwegian titles date earlier than the Union of Kalmar. These, however, have been all abolished by a Storthing, which, consisting mostly of peasants, set itself strongly against aristocratical distinctions; and, taking advantage of that clause in the constitution which provides, that if a bill be carried three times it overrides the king’s veto, have succeeded in abolishing them. Habit and custom, however, are stronger than parliaments; and the mistress of a wealthy establishment is frequently designated, not by her husband’s name, but as Lady Marie, Lady Brigetta, or, as in the present case, Lady Christina—for that is the meaning of the title Frue.[31]Not many years ago, the “summer parlour” was the only room in any house that had windows that would open.[32]All livings in Norway have a dowager-house and farm belonging to them, for the widow of the late incumbent. At her death, it passes back to the present possessor of the living.[33]Deep water.[34]Here the Neck strikes his harp in his city of glass,And the Mermaids comb out their bright hair, green as grass,And bleach here their glittering clothes.[35]Those who are drowned at sea, and whose bodies are never recovered, are said to have been enticed away to the mermaids’ caves beneath the deep water.[36]Those who are lost and starved to death in the forest—a thing which is of perpetual occurrence,—are said to be detained through the love of the Skogsfrue.[37]“We fly from day’s dazzling light,But we joy in the shades of night,—Though we journey on earth, our home must beBeneath the shell of the earth and the sea.”Mathisen.[38]This legend is taken from the Brage Rädur, which, in the original, is obscure enough. Finn Magnussen, however, seems to have hit upon the right interpretation of it, which we have followed here. His explanation, as given in “Blackwell’s Northern Antiquities,” is this:—“Iduna, the ever-renovating Spring-being, in the possession of Thjasse, the desolating Winter,—all nature languishes until she is delivered from her captivity. On this being effected, her presence again diffuses joy and gladness, and all things revive; while her pursuer, Winter, with his icy breath, dissolves in the solar rays, indicated by the fires lighted on the walls of Asgard.”[39]Niord and his wife, Skadi, had naturally some disputes about their future residence,—he preferring the brightness of his own palace, Noatun, she very naturally yearning after Thrymheim, the abode of her chilly father. The dispute was referred to Forseti, the son of Baldur, the heavenly attorney-general, who decided that they should alternately occupy Noatun for three months and Thrymheim for nine,—which is about the Norwegian proportion of summer and winter.“Thrymheim, the landWhere Thjasse abode,That mightiest of giants,—But snow-skating SkadiNow dwells there, I trow,In her father’s old mansion.”Elder Edda.[40]A proof of the authenticity of this legend is to be found in the etymology of the word, “gate,” (gatin—the street), being a Norwegian word.[41]Hermod and Baldur were both sons of Odin. That is to say, Courage and Innocence are both children of Heavenly Wisdom.[42]The moral of this legend is admirable. The Principle of Evil is of itself powerless against the Principle of Good, until it is assisted by well-intentioned, but blind Prejudice; but that same Prejudice, after its enlightenment, becomes its partner and ally.[43]An attentive reader, who is also a fisherman, will see, by reverting to the time which the adventures in the Torjedahl and Soberud-dahl must have taken, that this voyage must have taken place much later in the year than the 24th of June, and that consequently he could not have seen the bale-fires he describes. The fact is, the author made two visits to Christiansand; he arrived there in June, but, finding the snow-water still in the river, he made a voyage among the islands, to occupy the time, and visited the place again at the end of July. To prevent unnecessary confusion, the incidents of both these visits are told together; but the fisherman must not conclude from this, that anything is to be done in any of the Tellemarken rivers before the second week in July.[44]The whole Norwegian navy consists of one frigate, two corvettes, two brigs, three schooners, and a hundred and forty of these gun-boats. The Swedes, who have upon the whole rather a powerful navy, considering the poverty of their country,—that is to say, thirteen line-of-battle ships, fourteen frigates, some of them very heavy ones, and twenty-two steamers—possess also three hundred of these gun-boats. They carry generally one long tomer forward, and sometimes a carronade, sometimes a smaller gun aft. They are quite open, except a couple of bunks for the officers’ sleeping places, pull from twenty to thirty oars, and are generally sent to sea in squadrons, with a frigate or corvette to take care of them,—like an old duck with a brood of ducklings. The frigate forms a rallying point and place of refuge, as well as a place of rest, for the crews are changed from time to time, and in their turns enjoy a week’s rest and cover on board of her.[45]In Sweden there really is an order of the Seraphim, and in Denmark one of the Elephant,—for the Goose and Gridiron we will not vouch.[46]That ancient and distinguished family are said to read Gen. vi. 4 thus: “And there were Grants in the earth in those days.” The word “giants” being, according to the best authorities in that family, a modern reading.[47]Bjornstjerna, a not uncommon name in Sweden, signifies “bear’s star.”[48]Bör, civilized man,—fromberan, to bear; the same etymology as that ofbarn, a child. Ymir, Chaos,—literally, a confused noise; the meaning is, “before civilization had subdued Chaos.”[49]It must be remembered that the letter o, in Swedish, is pronounced like our oo, and that the g before ä e i ö, as well as the final g, is pronounced like the English y; the word “Modige,” therefore, will be pronounced very like the English word “Moodie.”[50]Rubus Chamœmorus; called in the country,Möltebär.[51]Baldur’s Eye-brow—Anthemis Cotula.—Linn.[52]The Puritan Abbott, Archbishop of Canterbury, got into great trouble from his sporting propensities. One day, as he was shooting with Lord de le Zouch, at Branshill Park, he shot a keeper. According to canon law, a clergyman killing a man becomes, from that time forward, incapable of performing any clerical function; and three Bishops elect refused consecration at his hand,—“Not,” as they said, “out of enmity or superstition, but to be wary that they might not be attainted with the contagion of his scandal and uncanonical condition.” He was re-instated by a committee of Bishops, appointed for the purpose, but never entirely recovered his position.[53]According to Scandinavian mythology, the sacred ash of Yggdrasil, which typifies the Vital Principle of the world, has seated on its topmost boughs an eagle, bearing perched between his eyes a falcon,—emblematic of Energy and Activity.[54]According to the Prose Edda, the gods had originally no poetry in their souls. The mead of Poetic Inspiration was in the keeping of the giant Suttung, who entrusted it to his daughter, Gunlauth. Odin made love to her,—obtained possession of the mead, and deserted her. He had, however, the grace to be ashamed of himself, for these are the words of the Hávamál, in which he evidently alludes to this not very creditable passage in his life:“Gunlauth gave me,On a golden chair seated,A draught of mead delicious;But the return was evilWhich she experienced,—With all her faithfulness—With all her deep love!“A holy ring oathI mind me gave Odin,—Now, who can trust him?Suttung is cheated—His mead is stolen—Gunlauth is weeping!”[55]A Norwegian slang expression, for “early rising.”[56]There is a beautiful superstition—if it is not a real religious truth—in Norway, that those we have loved best on earth become our unseen guardians, and follow us always, to warn us of danger.[57]“Then shall brethren beEach other’s bane,And sister’s children rendThe ties of kin.“Hard will be the age,And harlotry prevail,—An axe-age, a sword-age—Shields oft cleft in twain,—A storm-age, a wolf-age,Ere earth shall meet its doom.”The Völuspà.[58]Stags are not common so far north, but they are to be met with now and then. Elks are much more often seen, and are now pretty plentiful. In the days of which the author is writing, the Game Laws were, on paper at least, very strict about both elks and red-deer. Time was, when the former of these were classed with the bear and the lynx, and were absolutely outlawed as noxious beasts. At the time the author was in Sweden, the laws had gone to the other extreme, and they were absolutely protected,—everybody being forbidden to shoot them; a prohibition which, though it prevented men from going after them openly, was, in fact, as little regarded as most laws are in the fjeld. Now, they may be shot, only under certain restrictions.[59]A cant phrase in Sweden, for “going on foot.”[60]The only time the author ever did get a sight of one was in the fjeld on the right bank of the Gotha, near Trollhättan, when he was making his way through some tangled ground in search of a lake, which lies at no very great distance from the fall. On leaping down from a low ledge of rock, he very nearly pitched upon the top of a filfras, as much to his own surprise as that of the beast. He struck at him with his spiked fishing-rod—the only weapon he had with him. Fortunately for both parties, as he now thinks, he missed him; so they parted, much to their mutual satisfaction, and have not met since.[61]Nalle is the cant name for the bear kind, as with us Reynard is the cant name for a fox.[62]“Rig,” the earthly name of Heimdall, the watcher of Heaven’s gate, when he disguises himself to go skylarking on earth. Hence the slang expression, “Running a Rig.”[63]The Sun and Moon are continually pursued by the wolf Fenrir and her progeny, who sometimes nearly catch her. Hence the eclipses.[64]The author will not answer for his orthography in the word “pein-compassen.” He can work a reckoning by it, but has never seen it spelt.[65]There is no book so popular in Sweden as what they call “Peter Simpel aff Kapten Marrjatt.”[66]In Preadamite times—that is to say, the times of Drake and Raleigh—this was the custom of the English service also; but it having been discovered that “what is everybody’s business is nobody’s business,” and that accidents and negligences were continually happening during the dog watch, a regular afternoon watch was established, and the dog watch reduced to four hours, and divided into two; so that the whole ship’s company could relieve one another systematically, and not, as before, by private arrangement; and that the whole could have two uninterrupted hours below, between four and eight in the evening, for their evening meal, or any other occupation. The whole afternoon watch was called the dog watch, because in the full light,—and Norwegian ships did not go to sea in the winter because they were frozen up,—the work was supposed to be so easy that the dogs were sufficient to keep it.[67]Those drowned at sea, whose bodies are never found, are supposed to have been invited by the mermaids to their caves, and to have been fascinated by the beauty of their entertainers. Homer’s story of the Syrens enticing the comrades of Ulysses, has some such foundation.[68]The words “smart” and “smartly,” which, at sea, have a signification very different from their shore-going meaning, are pieces of mis-spelling. They are evidently derived from the Norwegian words “snart” and “snartlig,” which bear precisely the same nautical meaning as our English words.[69]This is a literal fact. Three weeks after sailing from Christiansand, and seventeen days after losing sight of land of any kind,—during which time there had been but two days in which the brig could lie her course,—the author was in the fore-rigging, on the look-out for the Outer Garboard buoy. He had but small hopes of seeing it, he admits, for the brig had been navigated by log, lead, and compass alone; nevertheless it is true, that within half-an-hour of his taking up his look-out place, and precisely in the direction in which he was looking, there was the buoy,—a little black speck, like a dancing boat. This, considering that the steamer in which he had gone out—a vessel commanded by a lieutenant in her Majesty’s navy—was fifty miles out of her reckoning, after a straight course of four days, seemed, to say the least, remarkable.

FOOTNOTES

[1]The families of Lejonhöved and Svinhöved were conspicuous in the wars of Gustavus Vasa, at which time Sweden threw off the yoke which Denmark, with the concurrence of Norway, had fixed on them, by taking undue advantage of the conditions stipulated in the Union of Calmar. The head of the former family perished in the treacherous massacre at Stockholm, generally spoken of by the name of the “Bloodbath.” Both families derive their names from their armorial bearings, as at that time there were no surnames in Sweden. These signify Lion-head and Boar-head, or Pig-head, respectively. Hence the Parson’s sarcasm.

[2]Långref—a poaching method of catching fish.

[3]Tjäder—the capercailzie. Taking him in his lek—that is to say, during his play, a very singular method which both the tjäder and the black-cock has of calling together the females of their respective species, is strictly contrary to law.

[4]Fjeld Ripa—The mountain grouse; a bird something like our ptarmigan, the pursuit of which is always attended with toil, and sometimes danger.

[5]According to ancient Scandinavian mythology, the earth, which is flat and surrounded by water, is continually guarded by Jörmungard the Sea Serpent, the daughter of Loki; who is so large that she encircles the whole earth, holding her tail in her mouth. She is sometimes called the Midgard Serpent;—Midgard meaning middle guard half way between the earth and the realms of the Hrimthursar, or Frost Giants, which is her post.

[6]The god Kvasir, or Unerring Wisdom, was the joint offspring of all the gods, and was created to aid their negociations with the Vanir. His blood, sweetened by mead, forms the drink of Poetic Inspiration, which was guarded by Gunlauth, the daughter of Thjassi, the chief of the Frost Giants. Odin, who was her lover, prevailed on her to give it up to him, and it is at present lodged in the heights of Asgard. That Poetic Inspiration should be wisdom, sweetened by honey and guarded by love, is in itself a beautiful allegory—and not less beautiful that it should be won by the gods and lodged in Heaven;—but the generation of Kvasir involves a most curious anomaly, and that is, that the gods should be able to create a being more intelligent than themselves,—unless, indeed, we interpret the allegory as implying that mutual council is more unerring than the unaided intelligence of any individual.

[7]The Indelta has very erroneously been stated, by one or two travellers in Sweden, to be the militia of the country. Sweden has a militia, and a very efficient force it is; but the Indelta is a feudal army raised and maintained by the holders of crown lands. The constitution of this force will be explained more fully hereafter; it is exclusively a Swedish institution, and does not exist in Norway.

[8]“Come over the river.”

[9]“Quick, here, with the boat! and so you shall have some money for drink.”

[10]One of the wild ideas of Scandinavian mythology is, that the sun is the eye of Odin, and that he once had two like other people; but, that coming one day to the well of Mimiver, the waters of which are pure wisdom, he bargained for a draught, and bought the horn gjoll full at the price of one of his eyes; no such great quantity either, if gjoll be the original of our English gill. However, this fully accounts for the fact that the moon is not now so bright as the sun, which it probably once was. It must be confessed that the whole of this story is entirely inconsistent with the theory of the sun and moon in the prose “Edda,” where these are represented as separate and independent divinities, the son and daughter of the giant Mundilfari,—the sun being feminine and the moon masculine; a tradition contrary to the notions of our poets, but fully borne out by our English peasants, who invariably speak of the moon as “he,” and the sun as “she.”

[11]Full-grown salmon have two or three ranges of very small teeth, whereas grauls (Scoticè, grilse) have only one. It is this distinction which, on the Erne, is technically termed “the mask,” and not the size, which determines the difference between a graul and a salmon.

[12]An ort, or mark, is the fifth part of a specie-daler, equivalent to ninepence or tenpence of our money. A skilling is about the same as an English halfpenny; the word, however, is pronounced exactly the same as our English word shilling, thekbeing soft beforei; a circumstance which rather perplexes the stranger in his calculations.

[13]Since the abolition of capital punishment in Norway—a measure that does not seem to answer at all—murderers are confined, like other criminals, in the castle at Christiania. They may be seen in dresses of which each sleeve and leg has its own colour, sweeping the streets and doing other public work; and a very disgusting sight it is. The average of crime is very high in Norway—perhaps higher than in any country known, and particularly crimes of violence. This may be accounted for, partly by their wonderful drunkenness, and partly by the very inefficient state of the Church, and the almost total absence of the religious element in an education which is artificially forced by state enactments. In Norway there is a very great disproportion between intellect and religion.

[14]Manchester has its faults, and a good many of them, but among them all its Anglo-Saxon virtue of order and capacity for self-government come out in strong relief.“Where are your policemen?” asked the Duke, as he glanced at the masses that thronged the streets during the Queen’s visit,—perhaps the largest crowd that had ever been collected in England. The streets of the Borough of Manchester were not staked and corded off, and guarded by men in blue; but thousands of strong, active warehousemen and mechanics formed, by joining hands, a novel barricade. And in the evening, when numbers beyond computation were assembled in the streets to witness the illumination, amidst all the confusion there was nothing but good-humour.—Fraser.

[14]Manchester has its faults, and a good many of them, but among them all its Anglo-Saxon virtue of order and capacity for self-government come out in strong relief.

“Where are your policemen?” asked the Duke, as he glanced at the masses that thronged the streets during the Queen’s visit,—perhaps the largest crowd that had ever been collected in England. The streets of the Borough of Manchester were not staked and corded off, and guarded by men in blue; but thousands of strong, active warehousemen and mechanics formed, by joining hands, a novel barricade. And in the evening, when numbers beyond computation were assembled in the streets to witness the illumination, amidst all the confusion there was nothing but good-humour.—Fraser.

[15]Alluding to a custom in Norway, of mixing the inner rind of the birch tree with their rye meal, during times of scarcity.

[16]The fisherman is very much recommended to tie his own flies for the Tay, or to get them at Edmondson’s. The author bought a good many pretty-looking specimens in the country, by way of patterns, all of which whipped to pieces in half-an-hour’s fishing. The fact is, there is a cheap way of tying flies, which it is impossible to detect by the eye; and it is just as well that the young fisherman should ask thecharacterof his tackle-maker before investing his money in such very ticklish wares; the worthlessness of which he will not find out till he reaches his fishing-ground. The author, a fisherman of some experience, has tied a good many flies in his time, and has had a good many tied for him by his attendants and other professionals on the river’s banks; but the only tradespeople he has ever found trustworthy, in all points, in such matters are, Chevalier, of Bell-yard, London, and Edmondson, of Church-street, Liverpool. Their flies have never failed him, whether in their hooks, their gut, or their tying. All that the fisherman will want in their shops will be a little science, to enable him to choose his colours,and a little money to enable him to pay his bills.

[17]The real scene of this piscatorial exploit is on the Mandahl river. There is a Hell Fall on the Torjedahl also; indeed, the name is common in Norway, and in Sweden too, so as to become almost generic for a dark, gloomy rush of waters; but the Hell Fall of the Torjedahl is inaccessible to salmon, which, notwithstanding all that Inglis says to the contrary, are unable to surmount the great falls of Wigeland about a mile below it. It is, therefore, worthless as a fishing-place; and, the author suspects, altogether too dangerous to be attempted without good reason. When the water is low, the fall of the Mandahl may be fished in the ordinary manner from a boat, and it is well worth the trial; but if the river be full, the birch rope will be found necessary.

[18]The lower part of the Torjedahl is perfectly free from musquitoes, which cannot be said of all the rivers in Norway; this probably is owing to its rapidity, and to the absence of all tributaries and still water.

[19]It is no inaccuracy to give Birger a Scotch song, for there is a considerable infusion of Scotch blood among the Swedes, and Scotch family names are by no means uncommon among the nobility. In fact, Scotch names are to be met with even in their national ballads: for instance—It was young Folmer SkotWho rode by dale and hill,And after rides Morton of Fogelsang,Who bids him hear his will.

It was young Folmer SkotWho rode by dale and hill,And after rides Morton of Fogelsang,Who bids him hear his will.

It was young Folmer Skot

Who rode by dale and hill,

And after rides Morton of Fogelsang,

Who bids him hear his will.

[20]The thirtieth of April.

[21]Lie still, my child;In the morning comes FinThy father,And gives thee Esberne Snorre’s eyes and heart to play with.

[21]

Lie still, my child;In the morning comes FinThy father,And gives thee Esberne Snorre’s eyes and heart to play with.

Lie still, my child;

In the morning comes Fin

Thy father,

And gives thee Esberne Snorre’s eyes and heart to play with.

[22]Esberne Snorre is the Danish Faust. In no country whatever was the reformation popular among the peasantry, and therefore the popular legends invariably assign the leaders and causes of it to the devil, as in the case of Faust himself, who, whatever Goëthe may say, really was a very respectable tradesman, and had no more to do with the devil than is involved in the invention of that art which became so powerful an instrument in the hands of reformers—printing. Esberne Snorre was what very few of the Danish Reformers were, a really good and conscientious man, who might well have built the Church of Kallendborg, or even have given his eyes for it. Nevertheless, pre-eminently before all the reformers, the devil carries him off bodily in every legend of the time, just as he did Faust.

[23]Equivalent to “spoiling a market” in Ireland, or “opening a Sheriff’s ball” in England,—“Goth’s garden” being the cant name for a place of execution in Stockholm, which is adorned with permanent gibbets, and is so called from the name of the first man who was hanged there. The saying is Swedish, not Norwegian, not only because it is local, but because there are no capital punishments at all in Norway.

[24]Christina, daughter of the great Gustavus Adolphus, a popular and able sovereign, abdicated voluntarily,—wearied of the toils of government,—and is said to have uttered some such speech as that attributed to her by Torkel on crossing the little stream which in those days separated her late dominions from those of Denmark.

[25]Between “the two lights,”—that is to say, twilight,—is always the time in which all spirits of the middle earth have the greatest power; of course the reason is, that seen indistinctly in the doubtful light of morning or evening, natural objects take strange forms, and exhibit appearances which are ascribed to the supernatural.

[26]A sort of scallop, of very beautiful colour.

[27]In the Swedish Church there used to be a regular private confession made to the priest before every Communion, on which occasion an offertory, called confession-money, was deposited on the altar. It is, indeed, the rule of the Church still, though, since a royal ordinance, in 1686, forbade penitents to select their own confessors, confining them to the priest of their parish, the custom has fallen into disuse; still the old expressions are frequently retained.

[28]The mal is said to be a great-headed, wide-mouthed monster, with a long beard, of the same colour as the eel; and, like the eel, slimy and without any perceptible scales. It is said to grow to the length of twelve or fourteen feet, to weigh three or four hundred pounds, and to carry on his back fin a strong, sharp lance, which it can elevate or depress at pleasure. It is supposed to lie seeking whom or what it may devour in the deepest and muddiest holes of rivers or lakes. The author has heard this fish talked of very often, but has never seen one, and believes fully that it may safely be classed with the Black Horse, the Mid-Gard Serpent, and Dr. Clarke’s Furia Infernalis.

[29]The leading fish of each shoal, or school, as it is called,—usually a salmon of considerable weight and experience—is so termed by the Irish fishermen.

[30]Frue is properly a title of nobility, and is of Danish origin. No Norwegian titles date earlier than the Union of Kalmar. These, however, have been all abolished by a Storthing, which, consisting mostly of peasants, set itself strongly against aristocratical distinctions; and, taking advantage of that clause in the constitution which provides, that if a bill be carried three times it overrides the king’s veto, have succeeded in abolishing them. Habit and custom, however, are stronger than parliaments; and the mistress of a wealthy establishment is frequently designated, not by her husband’s name, but as Lady Marie, Lady Brigetta, or, as in the present case, Lady Christina—for that is the meaning of the title Frue.

[31]Not many years ago, the “summer parlour” was the only room in any house that had windows that would open.

[32]All livings in Norway have a dowager-house and farm belonging to them, for the widow of the late incumbent. At her death, it passes back to the present possessor of the living.

[33]Deep water.

[34]Here the Neck strikes his harp in his city of glass,And the Mermaids comb out their bright hair, green as grass,And bleach here their glittering clothes.

[34]

Here the Neck strikes his harp in his city of glass,And the Mermaids comb out their bright hair, green as grass,And bleach here their glittering clothes.

Here the Neck strikes his harp in his city of glass,

And the Mermaids comb out their bright hair, green as grass,

And bleach here their glittering clothes.

[35]Those who are drowned at sea, and whose bodies are never recovered, are said to have been enticed away to the mermaids’ caves beneath the deep water.

[36]Those who are lost and starved to death in the forest—a thing which is of perpetual occurrence,—are said to be detained through the love of the Skogsfrue.

[37]“We fly from day’s dazzling light,But we joy in the shades of night,—Though we journey on earth, our home must beBeneath the shell of the earth and the sea.”Mathisen.

[37]

“We fly from day’s dazzling light,But we joy in the shades of night,—Though we journey on earth, our home must beBeneath the shell of the earth and the sea.”Mathisen.

“We fly from day’s dazzling light,But we joy in the shades of night,—Though we journey on earth, our home must beBeneath the shell of the earth and the sea.”

“We fly from day’s dazzling light,

But we joy in the shades of night,—

Though we journey on earth, our home must be

Beneath the shell of the earth and the sea.”

Mathisen.

[38]This legend is taken from the Brage Rädur, which, in the original, is obscure enough. Finn Magnussen, however, seems to have hit upon the right interpretation of it, which we have followed here. His explanation, as given in “Blackwell’s Northern Antiquities,” is this:—“Iduna, the ever-renovating Spring-being, in the possession of Thjasse, the desolating Winter,—all nature languishes until she is delivered from her captivity. On this being effected, her presence again diffuses joy and gladness, and all things revive; while her pursuer, Winter, with his icy breath, dissolves in the solar rays, indicated by the fires lighted on the walls of Asgard.”

[39]Niord and his wife, Skadi, had naturally some disputes about their future residence,—he preferring the brightness of his own palace, Noatun, she very naturally yearning after Thrymheim, the abode of her chilly father. The dispute was referred to Forseti, the son of Baldur, the heavenly attorney-general, who decided that they should alternately occupy Noatun for three months and Thrymheim for nine,—which is about the Norwegian proportion of summer and winter.“Thrymheim, the landWhere Thjasse abode,That mightiest of giants,—But snow-skating SkadiNow dwells there, I trow,In her father’s old mansion.”Elder Edda.

“Thrymheim, the landWhere Thjasse abode,That mightiest of giants,—But snow-skating SkadiNow dwells there, I trow,In her father’s old mansion.”Elder Edda.

“Thrymheim, the landWhere Thjasse abode,That mightiest of giants,—But snow-skating SkadiNow dwells there, I trow,In her father’s old mansion.”

“Thrymheim, the land

Where Thjasse abode,

That mightiest of giants,—

But snow-skating Skadi

Now dwells there, I trow,

In her father’s old mansion.”

Elder Edda.

[40]A proof of the authenticity of this legend is to be found in the etymology of the word, “gate,” (gatin—the street), being a Norwegian word.

[41]Hermod and Baldur were both sons of Odin. That is to say, Courage and Innocence are both children of Heavenly Wisdom.

[42]The moral of this legend is admirable. The Principle of Evil is of itself powerless against the Principle of Good, until it is assisted by well-intentioned, but blind Prejudice; but that same Prejudice, after its enlightenment, becomes its partner and ally.

[43]An attentive reader, who is also a fisherman, will see, by reverting to the time which the adventures in the Torjedahl and Soberud-dahl must have taken, that this voyage must have taken place much later in the year than the 24th of June, and that consequently he could not have seen the bale-fires he describes. The fact is, the author made two visits to Christiansand; he arrived there in June, but, finding the snow-water still in the river, he made a voyage among the islands, to occupy the time, and visited the place again at the end of July. To prevent unnecessary confusion, the incidents of both these visits are told together; but the fisherman must not conclude from this, that anything is to be done in any of the Tellemarken rivers before the second week in July.

[44]The whole Norwegian navy consists of one frigate, two corvettes, two brigs, three schooners, and a hundred and forty of these gun-boats. The Swedes, who have upon the whole rather a powerful navy, considering the poverty of their country,—that is to say, thirteen line-of-battle ships, fourteen frigates, some of them very heavy ones, and twenty-two steamers—possess also three hundred of these gun-boats. They carry generally one long tomer forward, and sometimes a carronade, sometimes a smaller gun aft. They are quite open, except a couple of bunks for the officers’ sleeping places, pull from twenty to thirty oars, and are generally sent to sea in squadrons, with a frigate or corvette to take care of them,—like an old duck with a brood of ducklings. The frigate forms a rallying point and place of refuge, as well as a place of rest, for the crews are changed from time to time, and in their turns enjoy a week’s rest and cover on board of her.

[45]In Sweden there really is an order of the Seraphim, and in Denmark one of the Elephant,—for the Goose and Gridiron we will not vouch.

[46]That ancient and distinguished family are said to read Gen. vi. 4 thus: “And there were Grants in the earth in those days.” The word “giants” being, according to the best authorities in that family, a modern reading.

[47]Bjornstjerna, a not uncommon name in Sweden, signifies “bear’s star.”

[48]Bör, civilized man,—fromberan, to bear; the same etymology as that ofbarn, a child. Ymir, Chaos,—literally, a confused noise; the meaning is, “before civilization had subdued Chaos.”

[49]It must be remembered that the letter o, in Swedish, is pronounced like our oo, and that the g before ä e i ö, as well as the final g, is pronounced like the English y; the word “Modige,” therefore, will be pronounced very like the English word “Moodie.”

[50]Rubus Chamœmorus; called in the country,Möltebär.

[51]Baldur’s Eye-brow—Anthemis Cotula.—Linn.

[52]The Puritan Abbott, Archbishop of Canterbury, got into great trouble from his sporting propensities. One day, as he was shooting with Lord de le Zouch, at Branshill Park, he shot a keeper. According to canon law, a clergyman killing a man becomes, from that time forward, incapable of performing any clerical function; and three Bishops elect refused consecration at his hand,—“Not,” as they said, “out of enmity or superstition, but to be wary that they might not be attainted with the contagion of his scandal and uncanonical condition.” He was re-instated by a committee of Bishops, appointed for the purpose, but never entirely recovered his position.

[53]According to Scandinavian mythology, the sacred ash of Yggdrasil, which typifies the Vital Principle of the world, has seated on its topmost boughs an eagle, bearing perched between his eyes a falcon,—emblematic of Energy and Activity.

[54]According to the Prose Edda, the gods had originally no poetry in their souls. The mead of Poetic Inspiration was in the keeping of the giant Suttung, who entrusted it to his daughter, Gunlauth. Odin made love to her,—obtained possession of the mead, and deserted her. He had, however, the grace to be ashamed of himself, for these are the words of the Hávamál, in which he evidently alludes to this not very creditable passage in his life:“Gunlauth gave me,On a golden chair seated,A draught of mead delicious;But the return was evilWhich she experienced,—With all her faithfulness—With all her deep love!“A holy ring oathI mind me gave Odin,—Now, who can trust him?Suttung is cheated—His mead is stolen—Gunlauth is weeping!”

“Gunlauth gave me,On a golden chair seated,A draught of mead delicious;But the return was evilWhich she experienced,—With all her faithfulness—With all her deep love!“A holy ring oathI mind me gave Odin,—Now, who can trust him?Suttung is cheated—His mead is stolen—Gunlauth is weeping!”

“Gunlauth gave me,On a golden chair seated,A draught of mead delicious;But the return was evilWhich she experienced,—With all her faithfulness—With all her deep love!

“Gunlauth gave me,

On a golden chair seated,

A draught of mead delicious;

But the return was evil

Which she experienced,—

With all her faithfulness—

With all her deep love!

“A holy ring oathI mind me gave Odin,—Now, who can trust him?Suttung is cheated—His mead is stolen—Gunlauth is weeping!”

“A holy ring oath

I mind me gave Odin,—

Now, who can trust him?

Suttung is cheated—

His mead is stolen—

Gunlauth is weeping!”

[55]A Norwegian slang expression, for “early rising.”

[56]There is a beautiful superstition—if it is not a real religious truth—in Norway, that those we have loved best on earth become our unseen guardians, and follow us always, to warn us of danger.

[57]“Then shall brethren beEach other’s bane,And sister’s children rendThe ties of kin.“Hard will be the age,And harlotry prevail,—An axe-age, a sword-age—Shields oft cleft in twain,—A storm-age, a wolf-age,Ere earth shall meet its doom.”The Völuspà.

[57]

“Then shall brethren beEach other’s bane,And sister’s children rendThe ties of kin.“Hard will be the age,And harlotry prevail,—An axe-age, a sword-age—Shields oft cleft in twain,—A storm-age, a wolf-age,Ere earth shall meet its doom.”The Völuspà.

“Then shall brethren beEach other’s bane,And sister’s children rendThe ties of kin.

“Then shall brethren be

Each other’s bane,

And sister’s children rend

The ties of kin.

“Hard will be the age,And harlotry prevail,—An axe-age, a sword-age—Shields oft cleft in twain,—A storm-age, a wolf-age,Ere earth shall meet its doom.”

“Hard will be the age,

And harlotry prevail,—

An axe-age, a sword-age—

Shields oft cleft in twain,—

A storm-age, a wolf-age,

Ere earth shall meet its doom.”

The Völuspà.

[58]Stags are not common so far north, but they are to be met with now and then. Elks are much more often seen, and are now pretty plentiful. In the days of which the author is writing, the Game Laws were, on paper at least, very strict about both elks and red-deer. Time was, when the former of these were classed with the bear and the lynx, and were absolutely outlawed as noxious beasts. At the time the author was in Sweden, the laws had gone to the other extreme, and they were absolutely protected,—everybody being forbidden to shoot them; a prohibition which, though it prevented men from going after them openly, was, in fact, as little regarded as most laws are in the fjeld. Now, they may be shot, only under certain restrictions.

[59]A cant phrase in Sweden, for “going on foot.”

[60]The only time the author ever did get a sight of one was in the fjeld on the right bank of the Gotha, near Trollhättan, when he was making his way through some tangled ground in search of a lake, which lies at no very great distance from the fall. On leaping down from a low ledge of rock, he very nearly pitched upon the top of a filfras, as much to his own surprise as that of the beast. He struck at him with his spiked fishing-rod—the only weapon he had with him. Fortunately for both parties, as he now thinks, he missed him; so they parted, much to their mutual satisfaction, and have not met since.

[61]Nalle is the cant name for the bear kind, as with us Reynard is the cant name for a fox.

[62]“Rig,” the earthly name of Heimdall, the watcher of Heaven’s gate, when he disguises himself to go skylarking on earth. Hence the slang expression, “Running a Rig.”

[63]The Sun and Moon are continually pursued by the wolf Fenrir and her progeny, who sometimes nearly catch her. Hence the eclipses.

[64]The author will not answer for his orthography in the word “pein-compassen.” He can work a reckoning by it, but has never seen it spelt.

[65]There is no book so popular in Sweden as what they call “Peter Simpel aff Kapten Marrjatt.”

[66]In Preadamite times—that is to say, the times of Drake and Raleigh—this was the custom of the English service also; but it having been discovered that “what is everybody’s business is nobody’s business,” and that accidents and negligences were continually happening during the dog watch, a regular afternoon watch was established, and the dog watch reduced to four hours, and divided into two; so that the whole ship’s company could relieve one another systematically, and not, as before, by private arrangement; and that the whole could have two uninterrupted hours below, between four and eight in the evening, for their evening meal, or any other occupation. The whole afternoon watch was called the dog watch, because in the full light,—and Norwegian ships did not go to sea in the winter because they were frozen up,—the work was supposed to be so easy that the dogs were sufficient to keep it.

[67]Those drowned at sea, whose bodies are never found, are supposed to have been invited by the mermaids to their caves, and to have been fascinated by the beauty of their entertainers. Homer’s story of the Syrens enticing the comrades of Ulysses, has some such foundation.

[68]The words “smart” and “smartly,” which, at sea, have a signification very different from their shore-going meaning, are pieces of mis-spelling. They are evidently derived from the Norwegian words “snart” and “snartlig,” which bear precisely the same nautical meaning as our English words.

[69]This is a literal fact. Three weeks after sailing from Christiansand, and seventeen days after losing sight of land of any kind,—during which time there had been but two days in which the brig could lie her course,—the author was in the fore-rigging, on the look-out for the Outer Garboard buoy. He had but small hopes of seeing it, he admits, for the brig had been navigated by log, lead, and compass alone; nevertheless it is true, that within half-an-hour of his taking up his look-out place, and precisely in the direction in which he was looking, there was the buoy,—a little black speck, like a dancing boat. This, considering that the steamer in which he had gone out—a vessel commanded by a lieutenant in her Majesty’s navy—was fifty miles out of her reckoning, after a straight course of four days, seemed, to say the least, remarkable.

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