Norway

NorwayChapter IThe Land of the VikingsWho has not heard of the Vikings—the dauntless sea-rovers, who in the days of long ago were the dread of Northern Europe? We English should know something of them, for Viking blood flowed in the veins of many of our ancestors. And these fierce fighting men came in their ships across the North Sea from Norway on more than one occasion to invade England. But they came once too often, and were thoroughly defeated at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, when, as will be remembered, Harald the Hard, King of Norway, was killed in attempting to turn his namesake, King Harold of England, off his throne.Norwegian historians, however, do not say very much about this particular invasion. They prefer to dwell on the great deeds of another King Harald, who was called “Fairhair,” and who began his reign some two hundred years earlier. This Harald was only a boy of ten years of age when he came to the throne, but he determined to increase the size of his kingdom, which was then but a small one, so he trained his men to fight, built grand new ships, and then began his conquests.Norway was at that time divided up into a number of districts or small kingdoms, each of which was ruled over by an Earl or petty King, and it was these rulers whom Harald set to work to subdue. He intended to make one united kingdom of all Norway, and he eventually succeeded in doing so. But he had many a hard fight; and if the Sagas, as the historical records of the North are called, speak truly, he fought almost continuously during twelve long years before he had accomplished his task, and even then he was only just twenty-one years of age.They say that he did all these wonderful things because a girl, named Gyda, whom he wanted to marry, refused to have anything to say to him until he had made himself King of a really big kingdom. He made a vow that he would not comb or cut his hair until he had conquered the whole country. He led his men to victory after victory, and at length fought his last great battle at Hafrsfjord (to the south of Stavanger). The sea-fight was desperate and long, but Harald’s fleet succeeded in overpowering that of the enemy, and Sulki, King of Rogaland, as well as Erik, King of Hardanger, were slain. Then Harald cut and dressed his hair, the skalds composed poems in honour of the event, and for ever after he was known as Fairhair. He was truly a great Viking, and he did not rest content with the conquest of Norway alone; for he brought his ships across the North Sea and conquered the Isle of Man, the Hebrides, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys, and he lived to the age of eighty-three.Then there are the stories of the two Olafs—Olaf Tryggvasson and Olaf the Saint, each of whom tookpart in many a fight on British soil, each of whom was the champion of Christianity in Norway and fought his way to the throne, and each of whom fell in battle under heroic circumstances, the one at Svold (A.D. 1000), the other at Sticklestad (A.D. 1030). To us it is interesting to know that King Olaf Tryggvasson, on one of his early Viking expeditions, was baptized in the Scilly Isles, that as his second wife he married an Irish Princess, and that for some time he lived in Dublin. To the Norwegians he is a Norse hero of the greatest renown, who during his short reign of barely five years never ceased to force Christianity on the heathen population, and who, at the age of thirty-one, came to an untimely end. His fleet was ambuscaded and surrounded, and when his men had made their last stand he refused to surrender. Neither would he suffer the ignominy of capture or death at the hands of his enemies; so, with shield and sword in hand, and in full armour, he leaped overboard, and immediately sank. For years afterwards his faithful people believed that he would appear again, and many fancied that, on occasions, their hero’s spirit visited them.Everyone knows the old triumphant line, “London Bridge is broken down,” yet few are aware that the words are translated from an old Norse song, and fewer still could say who broke down the bridge. The story goes that this was accomplished by the other Olaf, afterwards known as St. Olaf. He and his Vikings had allied themselves with Etheldred the Unready against the Danes, who held the Thames above London Bridge. The bridge itself, which in those days was a rough wooden structure, was densely packed with armed men,prepared to resist the advance of the combined fleets. But Olaf drove his stout ships against it, made them fast to the piers, hoisted all his sail and got out his oars, and succeeded in upsetting the bridge into the river, thus securing victory for Etheldred. But that was before Olaf gained the throne of Norway. What he did as King of that country would take too long to tell here. Every district of Norway possesses legends bearing on his visits when engaged in converting the people to Christianity, and describing his powers of working miracles. Everywhere the name of St. Olaf still remains engraven on the country. His death, however, was that of a soldier—on the battle-field; and the lance which Norway’s patron saint carried in his last fight may even now be seen by the altar in Trondhjem Cathedral.It was St. Olaf’s half-brother, Harald the Hard, who fell, as we have said, at Stamford Bridge, when attempting the invasion of England in 1066. But all this is history nearly a thousand years old, and the stirring tales of the Vikings are fully recorded, and may be read in the Sagas. Ten centuries have changed the order of things. To-day we have, in our turn, become the invaders, albeit full of peace and good-will; and over the same seas upon which once danced Long Ship, Serpent, and Dragon, our great ugly, smoky steamers now plough their way.Chapter IIModern Norway“Norroway over the Foam,” as it used to be called, is a good land to go to and a beautiful land to look upon. It lies less than two days’ journey from our shores, so it is easy enough to reach. Away from the towns—and they are not many—everything is picturesque, grand, and majestic, and the country indeed looks (as the people firmly believed of it long ago) as if it might have been the playground of countless giants, who amused themselves by pulling up acres of land, letting the sea into the valleys, and pelting each other with mountains and islands. Thank goodness the giants have disappeared! But if they really did have a hand in fashioning Norway, they are to be congratulated on the result.One of the first things one likes to know about a foreign country is its size. Well, Norway is just a little larger than the British Isles, and that part of it which forms the usual holiday touring ground of British and other people—i.e., from Trondhjem to the south—is no larger than England. The remainder of the country consists of a long, narrow strip running up into the Arctic Circle, and ending in Lapland in the Far North.On three sides Norway is washed by the sea; on the other side she has two neighbours—Sweden from the south right away up to Lapland, and then Russia.Now let us see what sort of a land it is. First, there are the fjords, stretching often a hundred milesor more inland from the sea-coast, sometimes with delightful fertile shores, at other times hemmed in on either hand by rocky cliffs rising two or three thousand feet sheer from the water. Then there are the mountains, which are everywhere; for, with the exception of Spain, Norway is the most mountainous country in Europe. And on their summits lie vast fields of eternal snow, with glaciers pushing down into the green valleys, or even into the ocean itself. Again, from these mountains flow down rivers and streams, now forming magnificent waterfalls as they leap over the edge of the lofty plateau, now rushing wildly over their rock-strewn torrent beds, until they reach the lake, which, thus gathering the waters, send them on again in one wide river to the fjord.Such things lend themselves to create scenery which cannot fail to charm, and in one day in Norway you may see them all. Take, for instance, the famous view of the Nærodal from Stalheim, a place which every visitor to Western Norway knows well. Probably nowhere in the world is there anything to approach it in grandeur, for not only are there the great mountains forming the sides of the actual valley in the foreground, but away beyond appears a succession of other mountains, stretching far across the Sogne Fjord, even to the snowy peaks of Jotunheim.People who live in such a land must needs be proud of it, and the descendants of the Vikings believe that there exists in the world no fairer country than their beloved Norge.1Maybe they are not far wrong. But these Northern people are not numerous, and theyare not forced, for want of space, to spoil their landscapes by studding the country-side with little red-brick cottages, for all Norway contains not one-half the number of inhabitants found in London. Under such circumstances the feeling of freedom is great, and the Norwegians claim that, as a nation, they are the freest of the free. Recent events would seem to justify the claim. Only the other day Norway dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her own free-will cast herself loose from the light fetters with which, for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound.With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late to fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of the horrors which war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence of hearth and home, for each able-bodied man serves his time as a soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the world that the old Viking spirit within him was still alive.It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that is Norway’s charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life is unknown outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, whose money helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, very few foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives.The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions, are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of the whole population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. What we term villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group of farms with a church in the neighbourhood.Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, Frederikstad, Tönsberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely situated. But the interest of a country such as Norway does not lie in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings, well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, places of amusement, and crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European towns, and a townsman’s life in his town is much the same all over the civilized world.Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates their living in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country—of the fjeld, the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, or the salmon river. In the summer nothing pleases them better than to tramp, with knapsack on back, for days on end, in the wilderness of the mountains, obtaining shelter for the night at some out-of-the-way mountain farm or at one of the snug little huts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. In the winter they have their sleighs, snow-shoes, toboggans, and skates to assist them in taking air and exercise, and in a Norwegian winter one does not live in a state of uncertainty as towhether the ice will bear or the snow be still lying on the ground when one wakes up in the morning.So comfortable has travelling in Norway been made for foreigners that there is no difficulty in going anywhere. There is a railway from Christiania to Bergen, and another from Christiania to Trondhjem. There are regular steamers on all the fjords and along the coast, even up to the North Cape and beyond. Wherever there are roads there is a well-appointed service of vehicles and posting-stations, and wherever anyone is likely to go by steamer, road, or rail there are hotels.Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordFishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordPage14.1Pronounced Nor-gay.Chapter IIIThe People and Their IndustriesThe greater number of the people are country-folk, who gain a living by farming, timber-working, or, when living near the sea, by fishing. Then there are a certain number of men who are soldiers by profession, and more still who are sailors—not fighting sailors, but serving on board the 8,000 merchant vessels which Norway possesses.Everyone who lives in a Norwegian town is connected one way or another with some sort of trade or profession; and, of course, in the seaports there are always ships coming and going, unloading and loading, and so providing plenty of work for a great many men. In the towns also there are, as in every civilized town, men who follow regular professions—clergymen, merchants, bankers, lawyers, doctors, hotel-keepers, shop-keepers,and others, as well as Government officials, learned professors, literary men, and artists.As a nation Norway cannot be considered wealthy, but the fact that she employs so many ships for trading purposes is perhaps a proof that she is fairly prosperous. There are few really rich Norwegians, and still fewer who are able to live as independent gentlemen on their estates; no man can claim the right to be called noble, for the nobility of the country was abolished by law nearly a century ago, and since then equality has been the birthright of every Norseman. But no one can prevent money made in trade gradually finding its way into the pockets of a few capable men of business, and thus class distinctions must be created. The majority of the Norwegians, however, are content to work and earn sufficient to maintain themselves and their families in fairly comfortable circumstances, and fortunately the products of the country enable them to do so.The forests, covering as they do almost one-fourth of the area of Norway, are of immense value, and the timber trade is a source of income to a great number of the people. Much of it, of course, is used in the country itself, as the houses and bridges are mostly built of wood; but there is plenty left to be exported to England and other foreign countries, as anyone who visits the ports in the South of Norway can judge for himself. Between Christiansand and Christiania, for instance, one may see enormous stores of timber awaiting shipment, and one wonders how it will ever be shipped. Then, travelling among the forest-clad mountains, one finds the woodman busy with his axe, and the great bare tree-trunks being hauled down to the banks of the torrentor river, so as to float on the waters to the low country, and thence even to the sea-coast. Again, on lakes like the Randsfjord, the sight presented by the gathered logs, which have floated down from the mountains, and which are being rafted for their final voyage, is an extraordinary one. Acres and acres of floating timber cover the end of the lake, and the massive trunks are packed so close that you might wander about on them at your will for hours.But it is not only timber in a raw state that does so much for the prosperity of Norway, for a great trade is done also in matches as well as in wood-pulp. The latter is a comparatively modern industry, and its development has been rapid. Anyone who visits Christiania and has the opportunity of taking the little town of Hönefos in his travels, should not fail to pay a visit to the pulping works. It is said that in Chicago one may see a herd of swine driven in at the front gate of a factory and brought out at another gate in the form of sausages. At Hönefos trees go into the works and come out as paper, or very nearly so.The waterfall, which gave a name to the place, is at the meeting of two rivers—one flowing from Spirillen Lake and the other from the Randsfjord, and was at one time beautiful. Now, however, its picturesqueness is marred by the presence of a barn-like structure containing the pulping works, while the fall itself is utilized to drive the machinery. And, it must be confessed, all this has been brought about by an Englishman, for here at Hönefos is made the paper upon which is printedLloyd’s Weeklyand theDaily Chronicle. Neither is the fact concealed, but rather boasted of in large letters onthe outside of the barn. But Norway can well spare this one scrap from its storehouse of scenery, and the works find regular employment for upwards of a hundred Norwegians.The process of pulping is simplicity itself; the trees are felled in the forests on the hillsides close by, and sawn into blocks. Aerial wires stretch from the felling ground to the works, and the blocks come swinging down in baskets, to be handed over forthwith to the mercy of the machinery. With the aid of heavy crushers and a certain amount of water the logs are soon reduced to pulp, which then floats away into sifters, to be eventually rolled out into flat sheets.An immense amount of this pulp is exported to England in sacks, and is used for many other purposes besides paper-making.Another thing which we get from Norway is ice. Most of those huge blocks of ice which you see in the fishmongers’ shops in the summer have come across the North Sea, and ice-cutting is a very important business in the winter months. The ice is obtained principally from the mountain lakes, and in the vicinity of Christiania long wooden chutes are erected from the mountain-tops to the edge of the fjord. Down these the huge cubes travel, direct from their homes to the deck of the boat, and thus save the cost of overland transport. They are sawn most carefully, the dimensions being about two feet each way; rope handles are then frozen into the blocks for facility of movement, and the cubes are stored in ice-houses until the summer, by which time they have lost almost half their original weight.Next to timber, the chief export from the country isfish (including cod-liver oil). The great fisheries are round the Lofödden Islands on the North-West Coast, well within the Arctic Circle, and it is estimated that some 30,000 men and 6,000 boats are engaged in capturing the cod from January to April each year. The fishermen assemble from far and wide, and take up their residence for the season in temporary huts, clustered together on the shores of the islands. The work is arduous as well as dangerous, for storms and heavy seas are of frequent occurrence, and tides and currents among the islands most treacherous. And here, close to the fisheries, is situated the dreaded whirlpool, the Mælstrom of renown.But it is the people’s living, and in a favourable season they make immense hauls. An ordinary catch for an ordinary day is 500 cod per boat, and a good day will double that number, though in such a case the boat has to make a second trip to bring the fish ashore. A simple calculation will show that millions of cod are landed on the islands every day. Imagine the sight and imagine the smell!The fish are split open and, after the roe and the liver have been removed, hung up on hurdles to dry. Some are sold to the fishing-smacks, which come to the islands to buy the fresh fish, and then salt it down in barrels, or take it away to dry elsewhere. Scores of bundles of dried cod, looking like slips of leather, may be seen for the remainder of the year on every wharf in Norway. Who eats it all is a mystery; but it goes to England and Spain in large quantities, and most of us have eaten it on Ash Wednesdays.Cod’s roe and liver are probably of more value thanthe fish from which they are extracted, and there are large factories for making cod-liver oil, not only at the Loföddens, but also at other places on the coast. At Hammerfest, which boasts of being the northernmost town in the world, the whole air is laden with the nauseous fumes issuing from the steaming caldrons of boiling cod-liver oil.The fish trade of Norway is not, however, confined to cod and the Lofödden Isles, for in many other parts fishing is the chief industry of the people, and hundreds of thousands of barrels of salted herrings and sprats leave the country every year, while sardines and anchovies are tinned or potted in the factories at Stavanger and other large seaports. The salmon, also, for which the Norwegian rivers are famous, are brought over to England packed in ice, and well repay the owners of the rivers.Even in the depth of winter a good deal of sea fishing goes on through the ice of the frozen fjords. The fisherman erects a shelter of some kind to protect him from the biting wind, and within view of this he breaks two or three holes in the thick ice. In each hole his baited hooks are dropped down, the other end of the line being fastened to a simple contrivance of pieces of stick, which begin to waggle when a fish is hooked. On the Christiania Fjord numbers of these sporting fishermen are to be seen at work all through the winter, and judging by the frequency of their visits to their different holes, they must take a quantity of fish. It is cold work, however, sitting and watching for the signal to come from the hole, and one cannot help admiring the men’s energy and keenness.It is only natural that, living in a country where fishis so plentiful, the people themselves should be great fish-eaters, and the daily fish-markets at Bergen and other places on the coast are most interesting sights. As a rule the fish are brought to market alive in half-sunken canoes, towed astern of the fishing-boats, and at Bergen all the bargaining is done between the buyers on the quayside and the sellers in their boats.In proportion to the population the variety of occupations in Norway is certainly great, and there are other industries besides those already mentioned. There is, for example, a considerable trade in skins and furs, in condensed milk, butter, and margarine, and in certain minerals and chemicals. Employment is found also for many men on the railways—in road-making, in boat and shipbuilding, in timber-dressing, in mechanical engineering, in slate-quarrying, in stone-cutting, and in mining (principally in the silver mines at Köngsberg).It would seem, therefore, as if there were plenty of work for the Norwegians to do, and they are willing workers. Abject poverty, as we know the term, has no place in Norway at present, for the country can support its people, thanks, perhaps, to the fact that the desire to emigrate to America and Canada is strong.Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorMaking “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorPage19.Chapter IVOn the FarmNorway is not like England, where nearly every bit of ground is cultivated, for nothing will grow on bare rocks, and a good deal of Norway is barren land. In fact, except in the low country down in the south, theonly land worth cultivating lies, as a rule, in the valleys near the fjords. There are situated all the farms, sometimes with small orchards of apples and cherries, but more often with potato plots, a little corn, and a great amount of grassland. As the mountains are always so close at hand, the fields are generally strewn with rocks and boulders, and are very uneven, so haymaking is not easy, and such a thing as a mowing-machine would be quite useless.Every blade of grass that can be gathered has to be made into hay, otherwise the ponies and cows would starve in the winter, as they are often snowed up for weeks at a time. Haymaking is, therefore, a great business, and the amount of grass which the Norwegians contrive to scrape off their land is marvellous. At the best of times it only grows to a height of about six inches, but scythes and reaping-hooks find their way into every nook and corner, and grass that no English farmer would trouble to cut is all raked in with the greatest care. Parties go up the mountain-sides to ledges of the cliffs, and on to the tops of the mountains, to make sure that nothing is wasted, the grass being brought down to the farms to be dried.Long wires may be seen stretching from the valleys away up, thousands of feet, to the tops of the mountains, and on these the bundles of grass are tied, to come swirling down to the farmstead. There is no time in the short Northern summer to make the hay as we make it, and there is usually so much rain that the grass would never dry at all if left lying on the ground; so long hurdles are put up in positions where they will catch the sun and the wind, and onthem the grass is hung up to dry, there remaining until it has made itself into hay. Afterwards it is stored in covered barns ready for winter use.The corn, also, is dried in a peculiar manner. As it is cut it is made up into small sheaves, a number of these being tied, ears downwards, to a pole planted upright in the ground. This makes drying rapid, and, if wet weather sets in, the rain runs off freely. A field of these wheat-stacks has a very odd appearance at a little distance, and near the woods one sees similar, though somewhat larger, stacks of branches and leaves, on which the goats are fed in the winter.Directly the snow has melted off the mountains the flocks and herds are sent up to the highland pastures (sæters), usually in charge of the younger women and girls of the farm, and there, throughout the summer, the dairy work is carried on. As in all mountainous countries, rich and sweet herbage follows the melting of the snow, and the cows and goats give an abundance of good milk, which is turned into butter and cheese, to be sold or consumed in the winter. Life at the sæter-hut, or mountain farm, is healthy and delightful, though much hard work has to be got through each day.Children seldom go to the sæters until old enough to be able to do real work, but one often sees a girl of fourteen or so looking after a flock of goats. She will be out with them all day as they feed on the mountain-sides, and will do all the milking. When seen for the first time this is rather an amusing operation, and decidedly a practical one. The milkmaid seizes a goat, straddles her, with face towards the goat’s tail, and, stooping down, proceeds to milk. From a littledistance all you see is the goat’s hind-legs emerging from beneath a blue petticoat, which looks most peculiar.But the children who are too young to spend the summer at the sæters find plenty to do at home, and they learn almost as soon as they can toddle that there is work for everyone. Quite small boys and girls manage to do a good day’s haymaking, and they can row a boat or drive acarriolebefore they have reached their teens. Such things they regard as amusements, for they have few other ways of amusing themselves, and their one ambition is to do what their fathers and mothers do.In some cases the small farmers move their whole families up to the mountain pastures for the summer; and, in addition to the dairy work, they rent the fishing on some of the mountain lakes, which they net freely. The trout thus caught are split open and salted down in barrels, eventually being sent down to the markets in the towns, where they fetch a good price. And all these peasants possess rifles, and are keen sportsmen, so that when August comes they go in pursuit of the wild reindeer, and lay up a store of meat, which, salted and dried, comes in very handy in the hard times of winter.As a rule the peasants eat very little meat, and what they do eat has probably been smoked and dried and hung up for several months. A good deal of salt fish is consumed; but the principal food is porridge (gröd), made of barley, rye, or oatmeal, and eaten generally with sour buttermilk, with the addition of potatoes, when plentiful. White bread is not found far from the towns, and the black, or rye, bread is a heavy compound, a taste for which takes an Englishman sometime to acquire. But even that is superior to thefladbröd, which in appearance and consistency resembles old boot-leather.The well-to-do farmer lives more sumptuously. He occasionally has fresh meat and fresh fish, and the dried articles nearly every day. He also indulges in cheese, usually of the commoner kind, known asprim, ormysost, which is not unlike brown Windsor soap. There are two other native cheeses, but they are considered somewhat expensive luxuries. They are calledgammelostandpultost, and are made from sour skimmed milk, being afterwards kept in a dark cellar for a year or so to ripen. The latter is the greater delicacy, and is stored, in a sloppy state, in wooden tubs. If you should ever chance to see one of the tubs being produced, do not wait to see it opened, or your nose will never forget it!Verily, winter is the bugbear of the struggling Norwegian countryman’s existence. Like the provident ant, he spends the greater part of the summer in laying up for the winter, and he has not only himself and his family to think of, but also his cattle, for if the latter cannot be properly housed and fed he will be ruined. There are times, however, when he contrives to throw off the constant thought of the future, and when he can enjoy himself thoroughly. Sunday is a day of rest, with possibly a long row across the fjord to church, after which comes a good gossip with the neighbours, and the chance of a feast at a friend’s farm. There are also high-days and holidays, weddings and christenings, accompanied by plentiful food and drink, as well as by dancing and fiddling.But when the snow covers up the country the days are none too exciting, though the cattle have to be fed and many odd jobs attended to. Most of the men are handy carpenters, and can make such things as dairy utensils, while the women in many parts weave sufficient cloth to keep the whole family clothed. By the younger men, however, the season is looked forward to as a time of real enjoyment. Then it is that they get out their snowshoes and enter with zest into the grand sport of ski-ing, or, taking their guns with them, go off on their ski to shoot ryper or hares for the market.Such is the life of the ordinary small farmer and peasant; but down by the fjords and on the beaten track of the foreign tourists the larger farmer has grasped the situation, and has discovered the value of having more than one string to his bow. So in summer he combines hotel-keeping with farming. His farm produce is consumed in his hotel, and if he is fortunate enough to have a salmon river flowing through his land, he can be certain of a good rent for it. Thus the prosperous farmer becomes a person of some importance in the district, and one day, perhaps, a Member of the Storthing, or Parliament.Chapter VManners and CustomsThe religion of the country is the Lutheran, almost in its original form, for in some matters the Norwegians are most conservative. Though not, perhaps,what we would consider a religious-minded people, they are naturally good, honest, and kind, and they take their religion on trust. They pay tithes, and give Easter and Christmas offerings to their clergy willingly, since they regard the priest as a superior person, and hold him in high esteem. He is a man, like his fellows, and farms his own land, which appeals to the people in the country parts. Moreover, he is possessed of learning, and away from the towns he is mainly responsible for the national education.Often the journey to church is long, for the farms lie far apart, and when the church is distant ponies or boats are brought into requisition for the conveyance of, at any rate, the women and children. Down by the fjord on a fine Sunday morning the sight of the boats crossing over to a church is a picturesque one. Deep laden with men, women, and children, they come one after another; and when they reach the shore, the women take their clean white head-dresses and gay kerchiefs out of the compact littletiner(oval chip-wood boxes), and finish their toilets before going up to the church.The Norwegian Sabbath begins on Saturday evening and ends at noon on Sunday, after which time the day is spent in simple enjoyment as a true holiday. Then in the evening the boats start for home, and across the still waters one may hear the women singing glees, as often as not to the accompaniment of the fiddle.A wedding causes quite as much interest and excitement in Norway as it does in England, and in the olden time the festivities lasted for a week or more. Nowadays the merry-making has been somewhat curtailed,but the actual ceremony has lost none of its solemnity and little of its brightness. In the towns civilization has robbed the wedding of its picturesqueness. The men are clothed in their best “blacks,” as if going to a funeral, and the ladies wear dresses of Parisian style. But away in the depths of the country one may still see a real Norwegian wedding, with the bride and bridesmaids, if not also most of the guests, dressed in the national costume, and it is a pretty sight.In front comes astolkjærre, the pony being led by the master of the ceremonies. On the seat sits the bride in the full dress of the country, and wearing her bridal crown; by her side the bridegroom, also well adorned for the occasion; and, on the step of the cart, that most important person, the fiddler, working his bow with astounding energy. If the pony can bear the weight, perhaps a couple of the bride’s relations will sit up behind, otherwise they will walk in the procession which follows; and there may be seen all the available peasants of the district—young men and maidens, grandfathers and grandchildren.So they wend their way to the church; and after the service, if the good old customs be kept up, the party proceeds to a green close by and enjoys a boisterous dance until it is time to go on to the wedding supper. Feasting and merry-making then continue for several hours—in fact, the sleepiness of the guests is the only thing that breaks up the entertainment for the night. Next day the festivities are resumed, and are possibly carried on into a third day. The fiddler is always busy, for without him there can be no real fun, thepeople’s love of music being no less than their love of dancing.The violin is the one instrument which they know and understand, and it has been in use among the Norwegians for hundreds of years. Their most famous violin-player, Ole Bull, who died some few years ago, was looked on as a great composer and musician. But all over the country there are to be found men who can play after a fashion; and a century or so ago, when the people were still very superstitious, they fully believed that anyone who could play at all well had had intercourse with the fairies, who were supposed to be marvellous musicians and acquainted with an immense variety of beautiful tunes.The food provided at a peasant’s wedding feast is, of course, something out of the common, and the guests are supposed to bring a present of something good to eat, such as fresh meat, butter, old cream, cream porridge, or cheese, for the ordinary fare of the country folk is, as we have said, of the plainest.With regard to the national costume, mentioned above, it is, unfortunately, a fact that it is gradually disappearing. There are parts, however, where there are no railways, no steamboats, and few tourists, and in such places the people still live much as they did a hundred years ago, even the men wearing clothes similar to those worn by their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and some of these are quaint in the extreme.Perhaps the quaintest dresses are those of the people of Sætersdal, a district in the South of Norway, between Christiansand and Telemarken; and, when properlyturned out, the men are quite as “dressy” as the women. They wear a pair of trousers buttoned with half a dozen silver buttons tight round the ankles, and coming right up to the armpits. Several broad stripes adorn the legs from top to bottom. And the coat takes the form of a curious little cape, richly embroidered with silver, and having sleeves, fastened at the wrists with more silver buttons. Shoes, with buckles, white stockings, and a cut-down tall hat, gaily decorated with ribbons and embroidery, complete the costume. The women wear short skirts—only a little below the knees—of dark blue, with a bright trimming round the bottom; coloured stockings; a bodice laced with silver, and covered with silver brooches and other ornaments; a waistbelt, which is sometimes entirely of metal; a kerchief tied over the head, after the fashion of the bandana of West Indian negresses; and on occasions a shawl of many colours.A step farther north, in what is called Lower Telemarken, a similar kind of dress still exists, though the man’s waistcoat-jacket is of a somewhat different pattern and colour, and the women wear their skirts a trifle longer. On Sundays and great occasions the latter also put on cloth stockings and gloves, embroidered tastefully with trails of flowers.But such dresses as these are not the national costume of Norway. For that we have to go still farther north—to the Hardanger. If an English girl wishes to dress a doll as a typical Norwegian, the clothes would be those of the Hardanger, and they would be these: a dark blue serge skirt (to the ankles), trimmed with black velvet and silver braid; awhite chemisette with full sleeves; a red flannel bodice embroidered with white, black, and silver, and glittering with brass saucer-shaped ornaments; and a waistbelt adorned with metal buttons. The effect is neat, bright, and decidedly piquant. The girls plait their fair hair in two long tails, wearing a handkerchief as a head-dress; but the married women have a most elaborate coiffure, something of the sister-of-mercy type, consisting of the so-calledskaut, or hood, and thelin, or forehead band. It takes a considerable time to put on, as the snow-white linen has to be most carefully stretched over a frame, which is first fastened on the top of the head, and then so arranged that the numerous small plaits hang in a particular manner. This is the ordinary head-dress, though the country women coming in to church on Sundays often wear curious old-fashioned bonnets, which have the appearance of being heirlooms handed down from generation to generation.The men do not dress up to the women. They confine themselves to a rough trouser suit, generally of dark blue, and a black felt hat. Even amongst the older men of the Hardanger one seldom sees the knee-breeches and stockings which used to be worn.A Hardanger BrideA Hardanger BridePage22.Chapter VISchool and PlayI am not certain whether Norse boys and girls are very good, or whether they are spoilt. You may travel all day on a steamer with a well-to-do family from thetown, or you may live in a farmhouse with a peasant’s family for a month, and the chances are that you will never hear the parents say “Don’t.” One thing I am sure of: the children who live in the country parts do very much as they please; in the summer they go to bed when they feel tired, sometimes not till nearly midnight; and they are not worried about getting their boots and their clothes wet, because no Norwegian troubles his or her head about such matters. Moreover, the life is such a simple one that perhaps there is little opportunity for real naughtiness.These country children have a very easy time, as for the greater part of the year they have no school to go to, and they spend all the summer out in the open air, looking after the ponies, cows, sheep, or goats, or hay-making, or rowing about, or fishing, or something of the kind. In the winter they, as well as the town children, are all obliged to go to school, from the age of seven to fourteen or fifteen—i.e.,until their Confirmation, and until this takes place they receive religious instruction from the priest on Sunday afternoons, for there is no religious teaching in the schools.There is a great difficulty about the country schools, because in some districts the farms are miles and miles apart, and it would be quite impossible for the children to walk to school and back in the day. In such districts the Government schoolmasters have to go about from place to place, and teach the children in their own homes. If there should be two or three farms close together, one of the farmers provides a schoolroom in his house, and the schoolmaster lives with him as his guest for a time, and then goes on to another house.But the schoolmasters must give every child twelve weeks’ schooling in the year. This does not amount to a great deal—only three months of school in the year!The wonder is that the children contrive to remember anything that they have learned, with nine long months in which to forget it. Yet they work hard while they are about it; they are inspected every year, and they are required to pass quite difficult examinations at the end. It is expected, however, that before long the twelve weeks’ compulsory schooling will be increased to fifteen weeks.In the towns the children are not forced to attend school for more than the twelve weeks in the year, but there are, of course, numbers of private schools, high schools, etc., to which parents can send their children, on payment, for a superior education. And at such schools the work goes on for a much longer period of the year—in fact, all through the year, except for two months in the summer and a week at Christmas and at Easter.It is all much the same as our own arrangements in England. There is the Government school, where the education is free, and there are other schools, where a higher education is paid for. But the compulsory schooling does not end with the seven years at the Government schools referred to above, for there are continuation schools, at which the pupils have to put in a further twenty-four weeks.In Norway there are no large public schools for boarders, so, in spite of their long holidays, the children do not have half the fun that English boys and girlshave. There is no cricket, football, hockey, golf, or any game of that sort, and there is not a racquet-, fives-, or tennis-court in the land. How then, you will ask, do they manage to amuse themselves?It must be remembered that the winter is much longer in Norway than it is with us, and even if the boys wanted to play football they would not be able to do so, as the ground is covered with snow. At that season they have their various winter sports to keep them busy—ski-ing, skating, tobogganing, and the like, and they do not require any other games. In the summer, instead of playing cricket, they go for walking tours into the mountains, or they go fishing in the rivers and lakes, or sometimes shooting.Though the Norwegians boast that ball games have been played in the country since Saga times, such games are of the most elementary kind, and would be scorned by any English boy. But for all that the Norse boys are every bit as manly as any other boys, because they enjoy many forms of sport which make them so; and they are strong, because they take plenty of exercise, and have physical drill in their schools.This brings us to other games played by Norwegian children—not the games which are purchased in the shops in Christiania, Bergen, and other towns, but the games which are played without any of the bought things. Of course the girls have dolls and dolls’ houses and dolls’ tea-parties, like the girls of every land, and there are toys of every description in the shops. The peasant children, however, who live far out in the country, never see a shop, and have to provide themselves with things to play with; but it is wonderfulwhat an amount of amusement they can get out of an old bone, or a block of wood, tied to a yard or two of string.As a rule their fathers are good hands at carving wood, so toys are easily made for the smaller children, and one finds everywhere such simple toys as wooden dolls, animals, miniature boats, sleighs, and carts.But the real enjoyment of the Norwegian children—at any rate of the girls—is the outdoor game, played when the weather is fine, both in the town and in the country, wherever there are enough children to make a game. To see a bevy of these quaint little girls throwing heart and soul into their games is delightful, and they have scores and scores of different ones. In most of them dancing and singing play a great part, and the most popular form of game is what is called a “Ring Dance,” in which, as the name implies, the players join hands and dance round in a circle.Many of these ring dances have their counterpart in English games, and the tunes and words sung to them are almost similar. Whether we adopted them from the Norwegians, or they adopted them from us, is a matter which will probably never be decided, but several games of this kind are common to all Europe. “Blind Man’s Buff,” “Hunt the Slipper,” and “Forfeits,” for instance, are found nearly everywhere. Here is the Norse version of “Round and round the Mulberry Bush,” which in some parts is called “The Washing-Maids’ Dance,” and in others “Round the Juniper Bush”:“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning.This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes,This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning.This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes,This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning.”The washing operations proceed through the next three days of the week, with a verse to each day. Thus on Wednesday they hang up the clothes, on Thursday they mangle them, and on Friday iron them. Then on Saturday they scrub the floor, and on Sunday go to church.With each verse the children dance hand in hand round the imaginary juniper bush, singing lustily, and illustrating the different actions of the washing operations. Finally, two and two and arm in arm, they promenade round, as if going to church, and generally prolong the walk while they sing the last verse a second time.Another very favourite game isSlængkompas, which is perhaps best translated almost literally as Scatter-Compass. It is a rapid game, and full of excitement. The players grasp hands in a circle and gallop round, singing the refrain as they go:“Those who would join inSlængkompasmust be tolerably quick!One—two—three—and four—and five.So comesSlængkompasagain.”When the counting begins the players let go hands, and, clapping to the tune, spin round separately until the word “five” is reached, when they should be in position ready to join hands again and continue to gallop round in the original circle.The aim of the game is to keep things going until the verse has been sung three times, but, of course, the players often become giddy and lose their places.There is not space to describe more of these ring dances here, but there are many of them, and a great many which our English children would do well to adopt.Our good old street game of “Hop-scotch” you may see played almost anywhere in Norway under the somewhat curious name of “Hop-in-Paradise,” while in some parts “Cat’s Cradle,” though a milder form of amusement, is quite popular, and a large variety of figures is known.Then the girls are very fond of dressing up as brides, with crowns and all, and having a mock wedding, with its accompanying procession and dancing. Above all things they love dancing, and their fathers and grandfathers play the fiddle for them for many an hour of a winter’s evening, while the mothers sing nursery rhymes to the smaller children. And, as with the games, these jingles are more or less the same as our own. They have “This is the house that Jack built,” with the malt, and the rat, and everything, only that they prefer the name Jacob to Jack. They have “Fly away, Peter, fly away, Paul”; and the baby on his mother’s knee has the joy of being shaken about to “This is the way the farmer rides, bumpety-bumpety-bump.”A Baby of TelemarkenA Baby of TelemarkenPage28.

NorwayChapter IThe Land of the VikingsWho has not heard of the Vikings—the dauntless sea-rovers, who in the days of long ago were the dread of Northern Europe? We English should know something of them, for Viking blood flowed in the veins of many of our ancestors. And these fierce fighting men came in their ships across the North Sea from Norway on more than one occasion to invade England. But they came once too often, and were thoroughly defeated at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, when, as will be remembered, Harald the Hard, King of Norway, was killed in attempting to turn his namesake, King Harold of England, off his throne.Norwegian historians, however, do not say very much about this particular invasion. They prefer to dwell on the great deeds of another King Harald, who was called “Fairhair,” and who began his reign some two hundred years earlier. This Harald was only a boy of ten years of age when he came to the throne, but he determined to increase the size of his kingdom, which was then but a small one, so he trained his men to fight, built grand new ships, and then began his conquests.Norway was at that time divided up into a number of districts or small kingdoms, each of which was ruled over by an Earl or petty King, and it was these rulers whom Harald set to work to subdue. He intended to make one united kingdom of all Norway, and he eventually succeeded in doing so. But he had many a hard fight; and if the Sagas, as the historical records of the North are called, speak truly, he fought almost continuously during twelve long years before he had accomplished his task, and even then he was only just twenty-one years of age.They say that he did all these wonderful things because a girl, named Gyda, whom he wanted to marry, refused to have anything to say to him until he had made himself King of a really big kingdom. He made a vow that he would not comb or cut his hair until he had conquered the whole country. He led his men to victory after victory, and at length fought his last great battle at Hafrsfjord (to the south of Stavanger). The sea-fight was desperate and long, but Harald’s fleet succeeded in overpowering that of the enemy, and Sulki, King of Rogaland, as well as Erik, King of Hardanger, were slain. Then Harald cut and dressed his hair, the skalds composed poems in honour of the event, and for ever after he was known as Fairhair. He was truly a great Viking, and he did not rest content with the conquest of Norway alone; for he brought his ships across the North Sea and conquered the Isle of Man, the Hebrides, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys, and he lived to the age of eighty-three.Then there are the stories of the two Olafs—Olaf Tryggvasson and Olaf the Saint, each of whom tookpart in many a fight on British soil, each of whom was the champion of Christianity in Norway and fought his way to the throne, and each of whom fell in battle under heroic circumstances, the one at Svold (A.D. 1000), the other at Sticklestad (A.D. 1030). To us it is interesting to know that King Olaf Tryggvasson, on one of his early Viking expeditions, was baptized in the Scilly Isles, that as his second wife he married an Irish Princess, and that for some time he lived in Dublin. To the Norwegians he is a Norse hero of the greatest renown, who during his short reign of barely five years never ceased to force Christianity on the heathen population, and who, at the age of thirty-one, came to an untimely end. His fleet was ambuscaded and surrounded, and when his men had made their last stand he refused to surrender. Neither would he suffer the ignominy of capture or death at the hands of his enemies; so, with shield and sword in hand, and in full armour, he leaped overboard, and immediately sank. For years afterwards his faithful people believed that he would appear again, and many fancied that, on occasions, their hero’s spirit visited them.Everyone knows the old triumphant line, “London Bridge is broken down,” yet few are aware that the words are translated from an old Norse song, and fewer still could say who broke down the bridge. The story goes that this was accomplished by the other Olaf, afterwards known as St. Olaf. He and his Vikings had allied themselves with Etheldred the Unready against the Danes, who held the Thames above London Bridge. The bridge itself, which in those days was a rough wooden structure, was densely packed with armed men,prepared to resist the advance of the combined fleets. But Olaf drove his stout ships against it, made them fast to the piers, hoisted all his sail and got out his oars, and succeeded in upsetting the bridge into the river, thus securing victory for Etheldred. But that was before Olaf gained the throne of Norway. What he did as King of that country would take too long to tell here. Every district of Norway possesses legends bearing on his visits when engaged in converting the people to Christianity, and describing his powers of working miracles. Everywhere the name of St. Olaf still remains engraven on the country. His death, however, was that of a soldier—on the battle-field; and the lance which Norway’s patron saint carried in his last fight may even now be seen by the altar in Trondhjem Cathedral.It was St. Olaf’s half-brother, Harald the Hard, who fell, as we have said, at Stamford Bridge, when attempting the invasion of England in 1066. But all this is history nearly a thousand years old, and the stirring tales of the Vikings are fully recorded, and may be read in the Sagas. Ten centuries have changed the order of things. To-day we have, in our turn, become the invaders, albeit full of peace and good-will; and over the same seas upon which once danced Long Ship, Serpent, and Dragon, our great ugly, smoky steamers now plough their way.

Who has not heard of the Vikings—the dauntless sea-rovers, who in the days of long ago were the dread of Northern Europe? We English should know something of them, for Viking blood flowed in the veins of many of our ancestors. And these fierce fighting men came in their ships across the North Sea from Norway on more than one occasion to invade England. But they came once too often, and were thoroughly defeated at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, when, as will be remembered, Harald the Hard, King of Norway, was killed in attempting to turn his namesake, King Harold of England, off his throne.

Norwegian historians, however, do not say very much about this particular invasion. They prefer to dwell on the great deeds of another King Harald, who was called “Fairhair,” and who began his reign some two hundred years earlier. This Harald was only a boy of ten years of age when he came to the throne, but he determined to increase the size of his kingdom, which was then but a small one, so he trained his men to fight, built grand new ships, and then began his conquests.Norway was at that time divided up into a number of districts or small kingdoms, each of which was ruled over by an Earl or petty King, and it was these rulers whom Harald set to work to subdue. He intended to make one united kingdom of all Norway, and he eventually succeeded in doing so. But he had many a hard fight; and if the Sagas, as the historical records of the North are called, speak truly, he fought almost continuously during twelve long years before he had accomplished his task, and even then he was only just twenty-one years of age.

They say that he did all these wonderful things because a girl, named Gyda, whom he wanted to marry, refused to have anything to say to him until he had made himself King of a really big kingdom. He made a vow that he would not comb or cut his hair until he had conquered the whole country. He led his men to victory after victory, and at length fought his last great battle at Hafrsfjord (to the south of Stavanger). The sea-fight was desperate and long, but Harald’s fleet succeeded in overpowering that of the enemy, and Sulki, King of Rogaland, as well as Erik, King of Hardanger, were slain. Then Harald cut and dressed his hair, the skalds composed poems in honour of the event, and for ever after he was known as Fairhair. He was truly a great Viking, and he did not rest content with the conquest of Norway alone; for he brought his ships across the North Sea and conquered the Isle of Man, the Hebrides, the Shetlands, and the Orkneys, and he lived to the age of eighty-three.

Then there are the stories of the two Olafs—Olaf Tryggvasson and Olaf the Saint, each of whom tookpart in many a fight on British soil, each of whom was the champion of Christianity in Norway and fought his way to the throne, and each of whom fell in battle under heroic circumstances, the one at Svold (A.D. 1000), the other at Sticklestad (A.D. 1030). To us it is interesting to know that King Olaf Tryggvasson, on one of his early Viking expeditions, was baptized in the Scilly Isles, that as his second wife he married an Irish Princess, and that for some time he lived in Dublin. To the Norwegians he is a Norse hero of the greatest renown, who during his short reign of barely five years never ceased to force Christianity on the heathen population, and who, at the age of thirty-one, came to an untimely end. His fleet was ambuscaded and surrounded, and when his men had made their last stand he refused to surrender. Neither would he suffer the ignominy of capture or death at the hands of his enemies; so, with shield and sword in hand, and in full armour, he leaped overboard, and immediately sank. For years afterwards his faithful people believed that he would appear again, and many fancied that, on occasions, their hero’s spirit visited them.

Everyone knows the old triumphant line, “London Bridge is broken down,” yet few are aware that the words are translated from an old Norse song, and fewer still could say who broke down the bridge. The story goes that this was accomplished by the other Olaf, afterwards known as St. Olaf. He and his Vikings had allied themselves with Etheldred the Unready against the Danes, who held the Thames above London Bridge. The bridge itself, which in those days was a rough wooden structure, was densely packed with armed men,prepared to resist the advance of the combined fleets. But Olaf drove his stout ships against it, made them fast to the piers, hoisted all his sail and got out his oars, and succeeded in upsetting the bridge into the river, thus securing victory for Etheldred. But that was before Olaf gained the throne of Norway. What he did as King of that country would take too long to tell here. Every district of Norway possesses legends bearing on his visits when engaged in converting the people to Christianity, and describing his powers of working miracles. Everywhere the name of St. Olaf still remains engraven on the country. His death, however, was that of a soldier—on the battle-field; and the lance which Norway’s patron saint carried in his last fight may even now be seen by the altar in Trondhjem Cathedral.

It was St. Olaf’s half-brother, Harald the Hard, who fell, as we have said, at Stamford Bridge, when attempting the invasion of England in 1066. But all this is history nearly a thousand years old, and the stirring tales of the Vikings are fully recorded, and may be read in the Sagas. Ten centuries have changed the order of things. To-day we have, in our turn, become the invaders, albeit full of peace and good-will; and over the same seas upon which once danced Long Ship, Serpent, and Dragon, our great ugly, smoky steamers now plough their way.

Chapter IIModern Norway“Norroway over the Foam,” as it used to be called, is a good land to go to and a beautiful land to look upon. It lies less than two days’ journey from our shores, so it is easy enough to reach. Away from the towns—and they are not many—everything is picturesque, grand, and majestic, and the country indeed looks (as the people firmly believed of it long ago) as if it might have been the playground of countless giants, who amused themselves by pulling up acres of land, letting the sea into the valleys, and pelting each other with mountains and islands. Thank goodness the giants have disappeared! But if they really did have a hand in fashioning Norway, they are to be congratulated on the result.One of the first things one likes to know about a foreign country is its size. Well, Norway is just a little larger than the British Isles, and that part of it which forms the usual holiday touring ground of British and other people—i.e., from Trondhjem to the south—is no larger than England. The remainder of the country consists of a long, narrow strip running up into the Arctic Circle, and ending in Lapland in the Far North.On three sides Norway is washed by the sea; on the other side she has two neighbours—Sweden from the south right away up to Lapland, and then Russia.Now let us see what sort of a land it is. First, there are the fjords, stretching often a hundred milesor more inland from the sea-coast, sometimes with delightful fertile shores, at other times hemmed in on either hand by rocky cliffs rising two or three thousand feet sheer from the water. Then there are the mountains, which are everywhere; for, with the exception of Spain, Norway is the most mountainous country in Europe. And on their summits lie vast fields of eternal snow, with glaciers pushing down into the green valleys, or even into the ocean itself. Again, from these mountains flow down rivers and streams, now forming magnificent waterfalls as they leap over the edge of the lofty plateau, now rushing wildly over their rock-strewn torrent beds, until they reach the lake, which, thus gathering the waters, send them on again in one wide river to the fjord.Such things lend themselves to create scenery which cannot fail to charm, and in one day in Norway you may see them all. Take, for instance, the famous view of the Nærodal from Stalheim, a place which every visitor to Western Norway knows well. Probably nowhere in the world is there anything to approach it in grandeur, for not only are there the great mountains forming the sides of the actual valley in the foreground, but away beyond appears a succession of other mountains, stretching far across the Sogne Fjord, even to the snowy peaks of Jotunheim.People who live in such a land must needs be proud of it, and the descendants of the Vikings believe that there exists in the world no fairer country than their beloved Norge.1Maybe they are not far wrong. But these Northern people are not numerous, and theyare not forced, for want of space, to spoil their landscapes by studding the country-side with little red-brick cottages, for all Norway contains not one-half the number of inhabitants found in London. Under such circumstances the feeling of freedom is great, and the Norwegians claim that, as a nation, they are the freest of the free. Recent events would seem to justify the claim. Only the other day Norway dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her own free-will cast herself loose from the light fetters with which, for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound.With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late to fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of the horrors which war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence of hearth and home, for each able-bodied man serves his time as a soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the world that the old Viking spirit within him was still alive.It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that is Norway’s charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life is unknown outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, whose money helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, very few foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives.The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions, are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of the whole population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. What we term villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group of farms with a church in the neighbourhood.Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, Frederikstad, Tönsberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely situated. But the interest of a country such as Norway does not lie in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings, well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, places of amusement, and crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European towns, and a townsman’s life in his town is much the same all over the civilized world.Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates their living in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country—of the fjeld, the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, or the salmon river. In the summer nothing pleases them better than to tramp, with knapsack on back, for days on end, in the wilderness of the mountains, obtaining shelter for the night at some out-of-the-way mountain farm or at one of the snug little huts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. In the winter they have their sleighs, snow-shoes, toboggans, and skates to assist them in taking air and exercise, and in a Norwegian winter one does not live in a state of uncertainty as towhether the ice will bear or the snow be still lying on the ground when one wakes up in the morning.So comfortable has travelling in Norway been made for foreigners that there is no difficulty in going anywhere. There is a railway from Christiania to Bergen, and another from Christiania to Trondhjem. There are regular steamers on all the fjords and along the coast, even up to the North Cape and beyond. Wherever there are roads there is a well-appointed service of vehicles and posting-stations, and wherever anyone is likely to go by steamer, road, or rail there are hotels.Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordFishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordPage14.1Pronounced Nor-gay.

“Norroway over the Foam,” as it used to be called, is a good land to go to and a beautiful land to look upon. It lies less than two days’ journey from our shores, so it is easy enough to reach. Away from the towns—and they are not many—everything is picturesque, grand, and majestic, and the country indeed looks (as the people firmly believed of it long ago) as if it might have been the playground of countless giants, who amused themselves by pulling up acres of land, letting the sea into the valleys, and pelting each other with mountains and islands. Thank goodness the giants have disappeared! But if they really did have a hand in fashioning Norway, they are to be congratulated on the result.

One of the first things one likes to know about a foreign country is its size. Well, Norway is just a little larger than the British Isles, and that part of it which forms the usual holiday touring ground of British and other people—i.e., from Trondhjem to the south—is no larger than England. The remainder of the country consists of a long, narrow strip running up into the Arctic Circle, and ending in Lapland in the Far North.

On three sides Norway is washed by the sea; on the other side she has two neighbours—Sweden from the south right away up to Lapland, and then Russia.

Now let us see what sort of a land it is. First, there are the fjords, stretching often a hundred milesor more inland from the sea-coast, sometimes with delightful fertile shores, at other times hemmed in on either hand by rocky cliffs rising two or three thousand feet sheer from the water. Then there are the mountains, which are everywhere; for, with the exception of Spain, Norway is the most mountainous country in Europe. And on their summits lie vast fields of eternal snow, with glaciers pushing down into the green valleys, or even into the ocean itself. Again, from these mountains flow down rivers and streams, now forming magnificent waterfalls as they leap over the edge of the lofty plateau, now rushing wildly over their rock-strewn torrent beds, until they reach the lake, which, thus gathering the waters, send them on again in one wide river to the fjord.

Such things lend themselves to create scenery which cannot fail to charm, and in one day in Norway you may see them all. Take, for instance, the famous view of the Nærodal from Stalheim, a place which every visitor to Western Norway knows well. Probably nowhere in the world is there anything to approach it in grandeur, for not only are there the great mountains forming the sides of the actual valley in the foreground, but away beyond appears a succession of other mountains, stretching far across the Sogne Fjord, even to the snowy peaks of Jotunheim.

People who live in such a land must needs be proud of it, and the descendants of the Vikings believe that there exists in the world no fairer country than their beloved Norge.1Maybe they are not far wrong. But these Northern people are not numerous, and theyare not forced, for want of space, to spoil their landscapes by studding the country-side with little red-brick cottages, for all Norway contains not one-half the number of inhabitants found in London. Under such circumstances the feeling of freedom is great, and the Norwegians claim that, as a nation, they are the freest of the free. Recent events would seem to justify the claim. Only the other day Norway dissolved the Union with Sweden with little difficulty, and of her own free-will cast herself loose from the light fetters with which, for nearly a century, she considered that she had been bound.

With Norway time has dealt kindly. In modern ages war has not ravaged her lands. The oldest living Norseman was born too late to fight for his country, and it is to be hoped that his grandsons and great-grandsons may continue to live in ignorance of the horrors which war entails. Yet are they all prepared to take up arms in defence of hearth and home, for each able-bodied man serves his time as a soldier, and doubtless, if occasion should arise, would prove to the world that the old Viking spirit within him was still alive.

It is, however, the sense of restfulness pervading everything that is Norway’s charm, and even the ordinary bustle of life is unknown outside the towns. In the summer the beaten tracks of the country are practically in the hands of the foreign visitors, whose money helps not a little to support many a Norse family. In the winter things are different, as, except perhaps in Christiania, very few foreigners are to be met with, and the Norwegians live their own lives.

The towns are neither numerous nor large, and, with a few exceptions, are situated on the sea-coast. Perhaps a quarter of the whole population of Norway is to be found in the towns, the remainder consisting of country-folk, who live on their farms. What we term villages barely exist, and the nearest approach to them is a group of farms with a church in the neighbourhood.

Christiania, the capital of the country, is the largest town, and other towns of importance are Bergen, Trondhjem, Stavanger, Frederikstad, Tönsberg, and Christiansand, all busy seaports and picturesquely situated. But the interest of a country such as Norway does not lie in the towns, which, with their wide streets, stately buildings, well-stocked shops, hotels, restaurants, places of amusement, and crowded dwellings, do not differ very greatly from other European towns, and a townsman’s life in his town is much the same all over the civilized world.

Town-dwellers in all Norway number no more than the inhabitants of Manchester, and though force of circumstance necessitates their living in the towns, their thoughts are ever of the country—of the fjeld, the fjord, the forest, the mountain lake, or the salmon river. In the summer nothing pleases them better than to tramp, with knapsack on back, for days on end, in the wilderness of the mountains, obtaining shelter for the night at some out-of-the-way mountain farm or at one of the snug little huts of the Norwegian Tourist Club. In the winter they have their sleighs, snow-shoes, toboggans, and skates to assist them in taking air and exercise, and in a Norwegian winter one does not live in a state of uncertainty as towhether the ice will bear or the snow be still lying on the ground when one wakes up in the morning.

So comfortable has travelling in Norway been made for foreigners that there is no difficulty in going anywhere. There is a railway from Christiania to Bergen, and another from Christiania to Trondhjem. There are regular steamers on all the fjords and along the coast, even up to the North Cape and beyond. Wherever there are roads there is a well-appointed service of vehicles and posting-stations, and wherever anyone is likely to go by steamer, road, or rail there are hotels.

Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordFishing Through the Ice on Christiania FjordPage14.

Fishing Through the Ice on Christiania Fjord

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1Pronounced Nor-gay.

1Pronounced Nor-gay.

Chapter IIIThe People and Their IndustriesThe greater number of the people are country-folk, who gain a living by farming, timber-working, or, when living near the sea, by fishing. Then there are a certain number of men who are soldiers by profession, and more still who are sailors—not fighting sailors, but serving on board the 8,000 merchant vessels which Norway possesses.Everyone who lives in a Norwegian town is connected one way or another with some sort of trade or profession; and, of course, in the seaports there are always ships coming and going, unloading and loading, and so providing plenty of work for a great many men. In the towns also there are, as in every civilized town, men who follow regular professions—clergymen, merchants, bankers, lawyers, doctors, hotel-keepers, shop-keepers,and others, as well as Government officials, learned professors, literary men, and artists.As a nation Norway cannot be considered wealthy, but the fact that she employs so many ships for trading purposes is perhaps a proof that she is fairly prosperous. There are few really rich Norwegians, and still fewer who are able to live as independent gentlemen on their estates; no man can claim the right to be called noble, for the nobility of the country was abolished by law nearly a century ago, and since then equality has been the birthright of every Norseman. But no one can prevent money made in trade gradually finding its way into the pockets of a few capable men of business, and thus class distinctions must be created. The majority of the Norwegians, however, are content to work and earn sufficient to maintain themselves and their families in fairly comfortable circumstances, and fortunately the products of the country enable them to do so.The forests, covering as they do almost one-fourth of the area of Norway, are of immense value, and the timber trade is a source of income to a great number of the people. Much of it, of course, is used in the country itself, as the houses and bridges are mostly built of wood; but there is plenty left to be exported to England and other foreign countries, as anyone who visits the ports in the South of Norway can judge for himself. Between Christiansand and Christiania, for instance, one may see enormous stores of timber awaiting shipment, and one wonders how it will ever be shipped. Then, travelling among the forest-clad mountains, one finds the woodman busy with his axe, and the great bare tree-trunks being hauled down to the banks of the torrentor river, so as to float on the waters to the low country, and thence even to the sea-coast. Again, on lakes like the Randsfjord, the sight presented by the gathered logs, which have floated down from the mountains, and which are being rafted for their final voyage, is an extraordinary one. Acres and acres of floating timber cover the end of the lake, and the massive trunks are packed so close that you might wander about on them at your will for hours.But it is not only timber in a raw state that does so much for the prosperity of Norway, for a great trade is done also in matches as well as in wood-pulp. The latter is a comparatively modern industry, and its development has been rapid. Anyone who visits Christiania and has the opportunity of taking the little town of Hönefos in his travels, should not fail to pay a visit to the pulping works. It is said that in Chicago one may see a herd of swine driven in at the front gate of a factory and brought out at another gate in the form of sausages. At Hönefos trees go into the works and come out as paper, or very nearly so.The waterfall, which gave a name to the place, is at the meeting of two rivers—one flowing from Spirillen Lake and the other from the Randsfjord, and was at one time beautiful. Now, however, its picturesqueness is marred by the presence of a barn-like structure containing the pulping works, while the fall itself is utilized to drive the machinery. And, it must be confessed, all this has been brought about by an Englishman, for here at Hönefos is made the paper upon which is printedLloyd’s Weeklyand theDaily Chronicle. Neither is the fact concealed, but rather boasted of in large letters onthe outside of the barn. But Norway can well spare this one scrap from its storehouse of scenery, and the works find regular employment for upwards of a hundred Norwegians.The process of pulping is simplicity itself; the trees are felled in the forests on the hillsides close by, and sawn into blocks. Aerial wires stretch from the felling ground to the works, and the blocks come swinging down in baskets, to be handed over forthwith to the mercy of the machinery. With the aid of heavy crushers and a certain amount of water the logs are soon reduced to pulp, which then floats away into sifters, to be eventually rolled out into flat sheets.An immense amount of this pulp is exported to England in sacks, and is used for many other purposes besides paper-making.Another thing which we get from Norway is ice. Most of those huge blocks of ice which you see in the fishmongers’ shops in the summer have come across the North Sea, and ice-cutting is a very important business in the winter months. The ice is obtained principally from the mountain lakes, and in the vicinity of Christiania long wooden chutes are erected from the mountain-tops to the edge of the fjord. Down these the huge cubes travel, direct from their homes to the deck of the boat, and thus save the cost of overland transport. They are sawn most carefully, the dimensions being about two feet each way; rope handles are then frozen into the blocks for facility of movement, and the cubes are stored in ice-houses until the summer, by which time they have lost almost half their original weight.Next to timber, the chief export from the country isfish (including cod-liver oil). The great fisheries are round the Lofödden Islands on the North-West Coast, well within the Arctic Circle, and it is estimated that some 30,000 men and 6,000 boats are engaged in capturing the cod from January to April each year. The fishermen assemble from far and wide, and take up their residence for the season in temporary huts, clustered together on the shores of the islands. The work is arduous as well as dangerous, for storms and heavy seas are of frequent occurrence, and tides and currents among the islands most treacherous. And here, close to the fisheries, is situated the dreaded whirlpool, the Mælstrom of renown.But it is the people’s living, and in a favourable season they make immense hauls. An ordinary catch for an ordinary day is 500 cod per boat, and a good day will double that number, though in such a case the boat has to make a second trip to bring the fish ashore. A simple calculation will show that millions of cod are landed on the islands every day. Imagine the sight and imagine the smell!The fish are split open and, after the roe and the liver have been removed, hung up on hurdles to dry. Some are sold to the fishing-smacks, which come to the islands to buy the fresh fish, and then salt it down in barrels, or take it away to dry elsewhere. Scores of bundles of dried cod, looking like slips of leather, may be seen for the remainder of the year on every wharf in Norway. Who eats it all is a mystery; but it goes to England and Spain in large quantities, and most of us have eaten it on Ash Wednesdays.Cod’s roe and liver are probably of more value thanthe fish from which they are extracted, and there are large factories for making cod-liver oil, not only at the Loföddens, but also at other places on the coast. At Hammerfest, which boasts of being the northernmost town in the world, the whole air is laden with the nauseous fumes issuing from the steaming caldrons of boiling cod-liver oil.The fish trade of Norway is not, however, confined to cod and the Lofödden Isles, for in many other parts fishing is the chief industry of the people, and hundreds of thousands of barrels of salted herrings and sprats leave the country every year, while sardines and anchovies are tinned or potted in the factories at Stavanger and other large seaports. The salmon, also, for which the Norwegian rivers are famous, are brought over to England packed in ice, and well repay the owners of the rivers.Even in the depth of winter a good deal of sea fishing goes on through the ice of the frozen fjords. The fisherman erects a shelter of some kind to protect him from the biting wind, and within view of this he breaks two or three holes in the thick ice. In each hole his baited hooks are dropped down, the other end of the line being fastened to a simple contrivance of pieces of stick, which begin to waggle when a fish is hooked. On the Christiania Fjord numbers of these sporting fishermen are to be seen at work all through the winter, and judging by the frequency of their visits to their different holes, they must take a quantity of fish. It is cold work, however, sitting and watching for the signal to come from the hole, and one cannot help admiring the men’s energy and keenness.It is only natural that, living in a country where fishis so plentiful, the people themselves should be great fish-eaters, and the daily fish-markets at Bergen and other places on the coast are most interesting sights. As a rule the fish are brought to market alive in half-sunken canoes, towed astern of the fishing-boats, and at Bergen all the bargaining is done between the buyers on the quayside and the sellers in their boats.In proportion to the population the variety of occupations in Norway is certainly great, and there are other industries besides those already mentioned. There is, for example, a considerable trade in skins and furs, in condensed milk, butter, and margarine, and in certain minerals and chemicals. Employment is found also for many men on the railways—in road-making, in boat and shipbuilding, in timber-dressing, in mechanical engineering, in slate-quarrying, in stone-cutting, and in mining (principally in the silver mines at Köngsberg).It would seem, therefore, as if there were plenty of work for the Norwegians to do, and they are willing workers. Abject poverty, as we know the term, has no place in Norway at present, for the country can support its people, thanks, perhaps, to the fact that the desire to emigrate to America and Canada is strong.Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorMaking “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorPage19.

The greater number of the people are country-folk, who gain a living by farming, timber-working, or, when living near the sea, by fishing. Then there are a certain number of men who are soldiers by profession, and more still who are sailors—not fighting sailors, but serving on board the 8,000 merchant vessels which Norway possesses.

Everyone who lives in a Norwegian town is connected one way or another with some sort of trade or profession; and, of course, in the seaports there are always ships coming and going, unloading and loading, and so providing plenty of work for a great many men. In the towns also there are, as in every civilized town, men who follow regular professions—clergymen, merchants, bankers, lawyers, doctors, hotel-keepers, shop-keepers,and others, as well as Government officials, learned professors, literary men, and artists.

As a nation Norway cannot be considered wealthy, but the fact that she employs so many ships for trading purposes is perhaps a proof that she is fairly prosperous. There are few really rich Norwegians, and still fewer who are able to live as independent gentlemen on their estates; no man can claim the right to be called noble, for the nobility of the country was abolished by law nearly a century ago, and since then equality has been the birthright of every Norseman. But no one can prevent money made in trade gradually finding its way into the pockets of a few capable men of business, and thus class distinctions must be created. The majority of the Norwegians, however, are content to work and earn sufficient to maintain themselves and their families in fairly comfortable circumstances, and fortunately the products of the country enable them to do so.

The forests, covering as they do almost one-fourth of the area of Norway, are of immense value, and the timber trade is a source of income to a great number of the people. Much of it, of course, is used in the country itself, as the houses and bridges are mostly built of wood; but there is plenty left to be exported to England and other foreign countries, as anyone who visits the ports in the South of Norway can judge for himself. Between Christiansand and Christiania, for instance, one may see enormous stores of timber awaiting shipment, and one wonders how it will ever be shipped. Then, travelling among the forest-clad mountains, one finds the woodman busy with his axe, and the great bare tree-trunks being hauled down to the banks of the torrentor river, so as to float on the waters to the low country, and thence even to the sea-coast. Again, on lakes like the Randsfjord, the sight presented by the gathered logs, which have floated down from the mountains, and which are being rafted for their final voyage, is an extraordinary one. Acres and acres of floating timber cover the end of the lake, and the massive trunks are packed so close that you might wander about on them at your will for hours.

But it is not only timber in a raw state that does so much for the prosperity of Norway, for a great trade is done also in matches as well as in wood-pulp. The latter is a comparatively modern industry, and its development has been rapid. Anyone who visits Christiania and has the opportunity of taking the little town of Hönefos in his travels, should not fail to pay a visit to the pulping works. It is said that in Chicago one may see a herd of swine driven in at the front gate of a factory and brought out at another gate in the form of sausages. At Hönefos trees go into the works and come out as paper, or very nearly so.

The waterfall, which gave a name to the place, is at the meeting of two rivers—one flowing from Spirillen Lake and the other from the Randsfjord, and was at one time beautiful. Now, however, its picturesqueness is marred by the presence of a barn-like structure containing the pulping works, while the fall itself is utilized to drive the machinery. And, it must be confessed, all this has been brought about by an Englishman, for here at Hönefos is made the paper upon which is printedLloyd’s Weeklyand theDaily Chronicle. Neither is the fact concealed, but rather boasted of in large letters onthe outside of the barn. But Norway can well spare this one scrap from its storehouse of scenery, and the works find regular employment for upwards of a hundred Norwegians.

The process of pulping is simplicity itself; the trees are felled in the forests on the hillsides close by, and sawn into blocks. Aerial wires stretch from the felling ground to the works, and the blocks come swinging down in baskets, to be handed over forthwith to the mercy of the machinery. With the aid of heavy crushers and a certain amount of water the logs are soon reduced to pulp, which then floats away into sifters, to be eventually rolled out into flat sheets.

An immense amount of this pulp is exported to England in sacks, and is used for many other purposes besides paper-making.

Another thing which we get from Norway is ice. Most of those huge blocks of ice which you see in the fishmongers’ shops in the summer have come across the North Sea, and ice-cutting is a very important business in the winter months. The ice is obtained principally from the mountain lakes, and in the vicinity of Christiania long wooden chutes are erected from the mountain-tops to the edge of the fjord. Down these the huge cubes travel, direct from their homes to the deck of the boat, and thus save the cost of overland transport. They are sawn most carefully, the dimensions being about two feet each way; rope handles are then frozen into the blocks for facility of movement, and the cubes are stored in ice-houses until the summer, by which time they have lost almost half their original weight.

Next to timber, the chief export from the country isfish (including cod-liver oil). The great fisheries are round the Lofödden Islands on the North-West Coast, well within the Arctic Circle, and it is estimated that some 30,000 men and 6,000 boats are engaged in capturing the cod from January to April each year. The fishermen assemble from far and wide, and take up their residence for the season in temporary huts, clustered together on the shores of the islands. The work is arduous as well as dangerous, for storms and heavy seas are of frequent occurrence, and tides and currents among the islands most treacherous. And here, close to the fisheries, is situated the dreaded whirlpool, the Mælstrom of renown.

But it is the people’s living, and in a favourable season they make immense hauls. An ordinary catch for an ordinary day is 500 cod per boat, and a good day will double that number, though in such a case the boat has to make a second trip to bring the fish ashore. A simple calculation will show that millions of cod are landed on the islands every day. Imagine the sight and imagine the smell!

The fish are split open and, after the roe and the liver have been removed, hung up on hurdles to dry. Some are sold to the fishing-smacks, which come to the islands to buy the fresh fish, and then salt it down in barrels, or take it away to dry elsewhere. Scores of bundles of dried cod, looking like slips of leather, may be seen for the remainder of the year on every wharf in Norway. Who eats it all is a mystery; but it goes to England and Spain in large quantities, and most of us have eaten it on Ash Wednesdays.

Cod’s roe and liver are probably of more value thanthe fish from which they are extracted, and there are large factories for making cod-liver oil, not only at the Loföddens, but also at other places on the coast. At Hammerfest, which boasts of being the northernmost town in the world, the whole air is laden with the nauseous fumes issuing from the steaming caldrons of boiling cod-liver oil.

The fish trade of Norway is not, however, confined to cod and the Lofödden Isles, for in many other parts fishing is the chief industry of the people, and hundreds of thousands of barrels of salted herrings and sprats leave the country every year, while sardines and anchovies are tinned or potted in the factories at Stavanger and other large seaports. The salmon, also, for which the Norwegian rivers are famous, are brought over to England packed in ice, and well repay the owners of the rivers.

Even in the depth of winter a good deal of sea fishing goes on through the ice of the frozen fjords. The fisherman erects a shelter of some kind to protect him from the biting wind, and within view of this he breaks two or three holes in the thick ice. In each hole his baited hooks are dropped down, the other end of the line being fastened to a simple contrivance of pieces of stick, which begin to waggle when a fish is hooked. On the Christiania Fjord numbers of these sporting fishermen are to be seen at work all through the winter, and judging by the frequency of their visits to their different holes, they must take a quantity of fish. It is cold work, however, sitting and watching for the signal to come from the hole, and one cannot help admiring the men’s energy and keenness.

It is only natural that, living in a country where fishis so plentiful, the people themselves should be great fish-eaters, and the daily fish-markets at Bergen and other places on the coast are most interesting sights. As a rule the fish are brought to market alive in half-sunken canoes, towed astern of the fishing-boats, and at Bergen all the bargaining is done between the buyers on the quayside and the sellers in their boats.

In proportion to the population the variety of occupations in Norway is certainly great, and there are other industries besides those already mentioned. There is, for example, a considerable trade in skins and furs, in condensed milk, butter, and margarine, and in certain minerals and chemicals. Employment is found also for many men on the railways—in road-making, in boat and shipbuilding, in timber-dressing, in mechanical engineering, in slate-quarrying, in stone-cutting, and in mining (principally in the silver mines at Köngsberg).

It would seem, therefore, as if there were plenty of work for the Norwegians to do, and they are willing workers. Abject poverty, as we know the term, has no place in Norway at present, for the country can support its people, thanks, perhaps, to the fact that the desire to emigrate to America and Canada is strong.

Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorMaking “Fladbröd”—A Cottage InteriorPage19.

Making “Fladbröd”—A Cottage Interior

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Chapter IVOn the FarmNorway is not like England, where nearly every bit of ground is cultivated, for nothing will grow on bare rocks, and a good deal of Norway is barren land. In fact, except in the low country down in the south, theonly land worth cultivating lies, as a rule, in the valleys near the fjords. There are situated all the farms, sometimes with small orchards of apples and cherries, but more often with potato plots, a little corn, and a great amount of grassland. As the mountains are always so close at hand, the fields are generally strewn with rocks and boulders, and are very uneven, so haymaking is not easy, and such a thing as a mowing-machine would be quite useless.Every blade of grass that can be gathered has to be made into hay, otherwise the ponies and cows would starve in the winter, as they are often snowed up for weeks at a time. Haymaking is, therefore, a great business, and the amount of grass which the Norwegians contrive to scrape off their land is marvellous. At the best of times it only grows to a height of about six inches, but scythes and reaping-hooks find their way into every nook and corner, and grass that no English farmer would trouble to cut is all raked in with the greatest care. Parties go up the mountain-sides to ledges of the cliffs, and on to the tops of the mountains, to make sure that nothing is wasted, the grass being brought down to the farms to be dried.Long wires may be seen stretching from the valleys away up, thousands of feet, to the tops of the mountains, and on these the bundles of grass are tied, to come swirling down to the farmstead. There is no time in the short Northern summer to make the hay as we make it, and there is usually so much rain that the grass would never dry at all if left lying on the ground; so long hurdles are put up in positions where they will catch the sun and the wind, and onthem the grass is hung up to dry, there remaining until it has made itself into hay. Afterwards it is stored in covered barns ready for winter use.The corn, also, is dried in a peculiar manner. As it is cut it is made up into small sheaves, a number of these being tied, ears downwards, to a pole planted upright in the ground. This makes drying rapid, and, if wet weather sets in, the rain runs off freely. A field of these wheat-stacks has a very odd appearance at a little distance, and near the woods one sees similar, though somewhat larger, stacks of branches and leaves, on which the goats are fed in the winter.Directly the snow has melted off the mountains the flocks and herds are sent up to the highland pastures (sæters), usually in charge of the younger women and girls of the farm, and there, throughout the summer, the dairy work is carried on. As in all mountainous countries, rich and sweet herbage follows the melting of the snow, and the cows and goats give an abundance of good milk, which is turned into butter and cheese, to be sold or consumed in the winter. Life at the sæter-hut, or mountain farm, is healthy and delightful, though much hard work has to be got through each day.Children seldom go to the sæters until old enough to be able to do real work, but one often sees a girl of fourteen or so looking after a flock of goats. She will be out with them all day as they feed on the mountain-sides, and will do all the milking. When seen for the first time this is rather an amusing operation, and decidedly a practical one. The milkmaid seizes a goat, straddles her, with face towards the goat’s tail, and, stooping down, proceeds to milk. From a littledistance all you see is the goat’s hind-legs emerging from beneath a blue petticoat, which looks most peculiar.But the children who are too young to spend the summer at the sæters find plenty to do at home, and they learn almost as soon as they can toddle that there is work for everyone. Quite small boys and girls manage to do a good day’s haymaking, and they can row a boat or drive acarriolebefore they have reached their teens. Such things they regard as amusements, for they have few other ways of amusing themselves, and their one ambition is to do what their fathers and mothers do.In some cases the small farmers move their whole families up to the mountain pastures for the summer; and, in addition to the dairy work, they rent the fishing on some of the mountain lakes, which they net freely. The trout thus caught are split open and salted down in barrels, eventually being sent down to the markets in the towns, where they fetch a good price. And all these peasants possess rifles, and are keen sportsmen, so that when August comes they go in pursuit of the wild reindeer, and lay up a store of meat, which, salted and dried, comes in very handy in the hard times of winter.As a rule the peasants eat very little meat, and what they do eat has probably been smoked and dried and hung up for several months. A good deal of salt fish is consumed; but the principal food is porridge (gröd), made of barley, rye, or oatmeal, and eaten generally with sour buttermilk, with the addition of potatoes, when plentiful. White bread is not found far from the towns, and the black, or rye, bread is a heavy compound, a taste for which takes an Englishman sometime to acquire. But even that is superior to thefladbröd, which in appearance and consistency resembles old boot-leather.The well-to-do farmer lives more sumptuously. He occasionally has fresh meat and fresh fish, and the dried articles nearly every day. He also indulges in cheese, usually of the commoner kind, known asprim, ormysost, which is not unlike brown Windsor soap. There are two other native cheeses, but they are considered somewhat expensive luxuries. They are calledgammelostandpultost, and are made from sour skimmed milk, being afterwards kept in a dark cellar for a year or so to ripen. The latter is the greater delicacy, and is stored, in a sloppy state, in wooden tubs. If you should ever chance to see one of the tubs being produced, do not wait to see it opened, or your nose will never forget it!Verily, winter is the bugbear of the struggling Norwegian countryman’s existence. Like the provident ant, he spends the greater part of the summer in laying up for the winter, and he has not only himself and his family to think of, but also his cattle, for if the latter cannot be properly housed and fed he will be ruined. There are times, however, when he contrives to throw off the constant thought of the future, and when he can enjoy himself thoroughly. Sunday is a day of rest, with possibly a long row across the fjord to church, after which comes a good gossip with the neighbours, and the chance of a feast at a friend’s farm. There are also high-days and holidays, weddings and christenings, accompanied by plentiful food and drink, as well as by dancing and fiddling.But when the snow covers up the country the days are none too exciting, though the cattle have to be fed and many odd jobs attended to. Most of the men are handy carpenters, and can make such things as dairy utensils, while the women in many parts weave sufficient cloth to keep the whole family clothed. By the younger men, however, the season is looked forward to as a time of real enjoyment. Then it is that they get out their snowshoes and enter with zest into the grand sport of ski-ing, or, taking their guns with them, go off on their ski to shoot ryper or hares for the market.Such is the life of the ordinary small farmer and peasant; but down by the fjords and on the beaten track of the foreign tourists the larger farmer has grasped the situation, and has discovered the value of having more than one string to his bow. So in summer he combines hotel-keeping with farming. His farm produce is consumed in his hotel, and if he is fortunate enough to have a salmon river flowing through his land, he can be certain of a good rent for it. Thus the prosperous farmer becomes a person of some importance in the district, and one day, perhaps, a Member of the Storthing, or Parliament.

Norway is not like England, where nearly every bit of ground is cultivated, for nothing will grow on bare rocks, and a good deal of Norway is barren land. In fact, except in the low country down in the south, theonly land worth cultivating lies, as a rule, in the valleys near the fjords. There are situated all the farms, sometimes with small orchards of apples and cherries, but more often with potato plots, a little corn, and a great amount of grassland. As the mountains are always so close at hand, the fields are generally strewn with rocks and boulders, and are very uneven, so haymaking is not easy, and such a thing as a mowing-machine would be quite useless.

Every blade of grass that can be gathered has to be made into hay, otherwise the ponies and cows would starve in the winter, as they are often snowed up for weeks at a time. Haymaking is, therefore, a great business, and the amount of grass which the Norwegians contrive to scrape off their land is marvellous. At the best of times it only grows to a height of about six inches, but scythes and reaping-hooks find their way into every nook and corner, and grass that no English farmer would trouble to cut is all raked in with the greatest care. Parties go up the mountain-sides to ledges of the cliffs, and on to the tops of the mountains, to make sure that nothing is wasted, the grass being brought down to the farms to be dried.

Long wires may be seen stretching from the valleys away up, thousands of feet, to the tops of the mountains, and on these the bundles of grass are tied, to come swirling down to the farmstead. There is no time in the short Northern summer to make the hay as we make it, and there is usually so much rain that the grass would never dry at all if left lying on the ground; so long hurdles are put up in positions where they will catch the sun and the wind, and onthem the grass is hung up to dry, there remaining until it has made itself into hay. Afterwards it is stored in covered barns ready for winter use.

The corn, also, is dried in a peculiar manner. As it is cut it is made up into small sheaves, a number of these being tied, ears downwards, to a pole planted upright in the ground. This makes drying rapid, and, if wet weather sets in, the rain runs off freely. A field of these wheat-stacks has a very odd appearance at a little distance, and near the woods one sees similar, though somewhat larger, stacks of branches and leaves, on which the goats are fed in the winter.

Directly the snow has melted off the mountains the flocks and herds are sent up to the highland pastures (sæters), usually in charge of the younger women and girls of the farm, and there, throughout the summer, the dairy work is carried on. As in all mountainous countries, rich and sweet herbage follows the melting of the snow, and the cows and goats give an abundance of good milk, which is turned into butter and cheese, to be sold or consumed in the winter. Life at the sæter-hut, or mountain farm, is healthy and delightful, though much hard work has to be got through each day.

Children seldom go to the sæters until old enough to be able to do real work, but one often sees a girl of fourteen or so looking after a flock of goats. She will be out with them all day as they feed on the mountain-sides, and will do all the milking. When seen for the first time this is rather an amusing operation, and decidedly a practical one. The milkmaid seizes a goat, straddles her, with face towards the goat’s tail, and, stooping down, proceeds to milk. From a littledistance all you see is the goat’s hind-legs emerging from beneath a blue petticoat, which looks most peculiar.

But the children who are too young to spend the summer at the sæters find plenty to do at home, and they learn almost as soon as they can toddle that there is work for everyone. Quite small boys and girls manage to do a good day’s haymaking, and they can row a boat or drive acarriolebefore they have reached their teens. Such things they regard as amusements, for they have few other ways of amusing themselves, and their one ambition is to do what their fathers and mothers do.

In some cases the small farmers move their whole families up to the mountain pastures for the summer; and, in addition to the dairy work, they rent the fishing on some of the mountain lakes, which they net freely. The trout thus caught are split open and salted down in barrels, eventually being sent down to the markets in the towns, where they fetch a good price. And all these peasants possess rifles, and are keen sportsmen, so that when August comes they go in pursuit of the wild reindeer, and lay up a store of meat, which, salted and dried, comes in very handy in the hard times of winter.

As a rule the peasants eat very little meat, and what they do eat has probably been smoked and dried and hung up for several months. A good deal of salt fish is consumed; but the principal food is porridge (gröd), made of barley, rye, or oatmeal, and eaten generally with sour buttermilk, with the addition of potatoes, when plentiful. White bread is not found far from the towns, and the black, or rye, bread is a heavy compound, a taste for which takes an Englishman sometime to acquire. But even that is superior to thefladbröd, which in appearance and consistency resembles old boot-leather.

The well-to-do farmer lives more sumptuously. He occasionally has fresh meat and fresh fish, and the dried articles nearly every day. He also indulges in cheese, usually of the commoner kind, known asprim, ormysost, which is not unlike brown Windsor soap. There are two other native cheeses, but they are considered somewhat expensive luxuries. They are calledgammelostandpultost, and are made from sour skimmed milk, being afterwards kept in a dark cellar for a year or so to ripen. The latter is the greater delicacy, and is stored, in a sloppy state, in wooden tubs. If you should ever chance to see one of the tubs being produced, do not wait to see it opened, or your nose will never forget it!

Verily, winter is the bugbear of the struggling Norwegian countryman’s existence. Like the provident ant, he spends the greater part of the summer in laying up for the winter, and he has not only himself and his family to think of, but also his cattle, for if the latter cannot be properly housed and fed he will be ruined. There are times, however, when he contrives to throw off the constant thought of the future, and when he can enjoy himself thoroughly. Sunday is a day of rest, with possibly a long row across the fjord to church, after which comes a good gossip with the neighbours, and the chance of a feast at a friend’s farm. There are also high-days and holidays, weddings and christenings, accompanied by plentiful food and drink, as well as by dancing and fiddling.

But when the snow covers up the country the days are none too exciting, though the cattle have to be fed and many odd jobs attended to. Most of the men are handy carpenters, and can make such things as dairy utensils, while the women in many parts weave sufficient cloth to keep the whole family clothed. By the younger men, however, the season is looked forward to as a time of real enjoyment. Then it is that they get out their snowshoes and enter with zest into the grand sport of ski-ing, or, taking their guns with them, go off on their ski to shoot ryper or hares for the market.

Such is the life of the ordinary small farmer and peasant; but down by the fjords and on the beaten track of the foreign tourists the larger farmer has grasped the situation, and has discovered the value of having more than one string to his bow. So in summer he combines hotel-keeping with farming. His farm produce is consumed in his hotel, and if he is fortunate enough to have a salmon river flowing through his land, he can be certain of a good rent for it. Thus the prosperous farmer becomes a person of some importance in the district, and one day, perhaps, a Member of the Storthing, or Parliament.

Chapter VManners and CustomsThe religion of the country is the Lutheran, almost in its original form, for in some matters the Norwegians are most conservative. Though not, perhaps,what we would consider a religious-minded people, they are naturally good, honest, and kind, and they take their religion on trust. They pay tithes, and give Easter and Christmas offerings to their clergy willingly, since they regard the priest as a superior person, and hold him in high esteem. He is a man, like his fellows, and farms his own land, which appeals to the people in the country parts. Moreover, he is possessed of learning, and away from the towns he is mainly responsible for the national education.Often the journey to church is long, for the farms lie far apart, and when the church is distant ponies or boats are brought into requisition for the conveyance of, at any rate, the women and children. Down by the fjord on a fine Sunday morning the sight of the boats crossing over to a church is a picturesque one. Deep laden with men, women, and children, they come one after another; and when they reach the shore, the women take their clean white head-dresses and gay kerchiefs out of the compact littletiner(oval chip-wood boxes), and finish their toilets before going up to the church.The Norwegian Sabbath begins on Saturday evening and ends at noon on Sunday, after which time the day is spent in simple enjoyment as a true holiday. Then in the evening the boats start for home, and across the still waters one may hear the women singing glees, as often as not to the accompaniment of the fiddle.A wedding causes quite as much interest and excitement in Norway as it does in England, and in the olden time the festivities lasted for a week or more. Nowadays the merry-making has been somewhat curtailed,but the actual ceremony has lost none of its solemnity and little of its brightness. In the towns civilization has robbed the wedding of its picturesqueness. The men are clothed in their best “blacks,” as if going to a funeral, and the ladies wear dresses of Parisian style. But away in the depths of the country one may still see a real Norwegian wedding, with the bride and bridesmaids, if not also most of the guests, dressed in the national costume, and it is a pretty sight.In front comes astolkjærre, the pony being led by the master of the ceremonies. On the seat sits the bride in the full dress of the country, and wearing her bridal crown; by her side the bridegroom, also well adorned for the occasion; and, on the step of the cart, that most important person, the fiddler, working his bow with astounding energy. If the pony can bear the weight, perhaps a couple of the bride’s relations will sit up behind, otherwise they will walk in the procession which follows; and there may be seen all the available peasants of the district—young men and maidens, grandfathers and grandchildren.So they wend their way to the church; and after the service, if the good old customs be kept up, the party proceeds to a green close by and enjoys a boisterous dance until it is time to go on to the wedding supper. Feasting and merry-making then continue for several hours—in fact, the sleepiness of the guests is the only thing that breaks up the entertainment for the night. Next day the festivities are resumed, and are possibly carried on into a third day. The fiddler is always busy, for without him there can be no real fun, thepeople’s love of music being no less than their love of dancing.The violin is the one instrument which they know and understand, and it has been in use among the Norwegians for hundreds of years. Their most famous violin-player, Ole Bull, who died some few years ago, was looked on as a great composer and musician. But all over the country there are to be found men who can play after a fashion; and a century or so ago, when the people were still very superstitious, they fully believed that anyone who could play at all well had had intercourse with the fairies, who were supposed to be marvellous musicians and acquainted with an immense variety of beautiful tunes.The food provided at a peasant’s wedding feast is, of course, something out of the common, and the guests are supposed to bring a present of something good to eat, such as fresh meat, butter, old cream, cream porridge, or cheese, for the ordinary fare of the country folk is, as we have said, of the plainest.With regard to the national costume, mentioned above, it is, unfortunately, a fact that it is gradually disappearing. There are parts, however, where there are no railways, no steamboats, and few tourists, and in such places the people still live much as they did a hundred years ago, even the men wearing clothes similar to those worn by their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and some of these are quaint in the extreme.Perhaps the quaintest dresses are those of the people of Sætersdal, a district in the South of Norway, between Christiansand and Telemarken; and, when properlyturned out, the men are quite as “dressy” as the women. They wear a pair of trousers buttoned with half a dozen silver buttons tight round the ankles, and coming right up to the armpits. Several broad stripes adorn the legs from top to bottom. And the coat takes the form of a curious little cape, richly embroidered with silver, and having sleeves, fastened at the wrists with more silver buttons. Shoes, with buckles, white stockings, and a cut-down tall hat, gaily decorated with ribbons and embroidery, complete the costume. The women wear short skirts—only a little below the knees—of dark blue, with a bright trimming round the bottom; coloured stockings; a bodice laced with silver, and covered with silver brooches and other ornaments; a waistbelt, which is sometimes entirely of metal; a kerchief tied over the head, after the fashion of the bandana of West Indian negresses; and on occasions a shawl of many colours.A step farther north, in what is called Lower Telemarken, a similar kind of dress still exists, though the man’s waistcoat-jacket is of a somewhat different pattern and colour, and the women wear their skirts a trifle longer. On Sundays and great occasions the latter also put on cloth stockings and gloves, embroidered tastefully with trails of flowers.But such dresses as these are not the national costume of Norway. For that we have to go still farther north—to the Hardanger. If an English girl wishes to dress a doll as a typical Norwegian, the clothes would be those of the Hardanger, and they would be these: a dark blue serge skirt (to the ankles), trimmed with black velvet and silver braid; awhite chemisette with full sleeves; a red flannel bodice embroidered with white, black, and silver, and glittering with brass saucer-shaped ornaments; and a waistbelt adorned with metal buttons. The effect is neat, bright, and decidedly piquant. The girls plait their fair hair in two long tails, wearing a handkerchief as a head-dress; but the married women have a most elaborate coiffure, something of the sister-of-mercy type, consisting of the so-calledskaut, or hood, and thelin, or forehead band. It takes a considerable time to put on, as the snow-white linen has to be most carefully stretched over a frame, which is first fastened on the top of the head, and then so arranged that the numerous small plaits hang in a particular manner. This is the ordinary head-dress, though the country women coming in to church on Sundays often wear curious old-fashioned bonnets, which have the appearance of being heirlooms handed down from generation to generation.The men do not dress up to the women. They confine themselves to a rough trouser suit, generally of dark blue, and a black felt hat. Even amongst the older men of the Hardanger one seldom sees the knee-breeches and stockings which used to be worn.A Hardanger BrideA Hardanger BridePage22.

The religion of the country is the Lutheran, almost in its original form, for in some matters the Norwegians are most conservative. Though not, perhaps,what we would consider a religious-minded people, they are naturally good, honest, and kind, and they take their religion on trust. They pay tithes, and give Easter and Christmas offerings to their clergy willingly, since they regard the priest as a superior person, and hold him in high esteem. He is a man, like his fellows, and farms his own land, which appeals to the people in the country parts. Moreover, he is possessed of learning, and away from the towns he is mainly responsible for the national education.

Often the journey to church is long, for the farms lie far apart, and when the church is distant ponies or boats are brought into requisition for the conveyance of, at any rate, the women and children. Down by the fjord on a fine Sunday morning the sight of the boats crossing over to a church is a picturesque one. Deep laden with men, women, and children, they come one after another; and when they reach the shore, the women take their clean white head-dresses and gay kerchiefs out of the compact littletiner(oval chip-wood boxes), and finish their toilets before going up to the church.

The Norwegian Sabbath begins on Saturday evening and ends at noon on Sunday, after which time the day is spent in simple enjoyment as a true holiday. Then in the evening the boats start for home, and across the still waters one may hear the women singing glees, as often as not to the accompaniment of the fiddle.

A wedding causes quite as much interest and excitement in Norway as it does in England, and in the olden time the festivities lasted for a week or more. Nowadays the merry-making has been somewhat curtailed,but the actual ceremony has lost none of its solemnity and little of its brightness. In the towns civilization has robbed the wedding of its picturesqueness. The men are clothed in their best “blacks,” as if going to a funeral, and the ladies wear dresses of Parisian style. But away in the depths of the country one may still see a real Norwegian wedding, with the bride and bridesmaids, if not also most of the guests, dressed in the national costume, and it is a pretty sight.

In front comes astolkjærre, the pony being led by the master of the ceremonies. On the seat sits the bride in the full dress of the country, and wearing her bridal crown; by her side the bridegroom, also well adorned for the occasion; and, on the step of the cart, that most important person, the fiddler, working his bow with astounding energy. If the pony can bear the weight, perhaps a couple of the bride’s relations will sit up behind, otherwise they will walk in the procession which follows; and there may be seen all the available peasants of the district—young men and maidens, grandfathers and grandchildren.

So they wend their way to the church; and after the service, if the good old customs be kept up, the party proceeds to a green close by and enjoys a boisterous dance until it is time to go on to the wedding supper. Feasting and merry-making then continue for several hours—in fact, the sleepiness of the guests is the only thing that breaks up the entertainment for the night. Next day the festivities are resumed, and are possibly carried on into a third day. The fiddler is always busy, for without him there can be no real fun, thepeople’s love of music being no less than their love of dancing.

The violin is the one instrument which they know and understand, and it has been in use among the Norwegians for hundreds of years. Their most famous violin-player, Ole Bull, who died some few years ago, was looked on as a great composer and musician. But all over the country there are to be found men who can play after a fashion; and a century or so ago, when the people were still very superstitious, they fully believed that anyone who could play at all well had had intercourse with the fairies, who were supposed to be marvellous musicians and acquainted with an immense variety of beautiful tunes.

The food provided at a peasant’s wedding feast is, of course, something out of the common, and the guests are supposed to bring a present of something good to eat, such as fresh meat, butter, old cream, cream porridge, or cheese, for the ordinary fare of the country folk is, as we have said, of the plainest.

With regard to the national costume, mentioned above, it is, unfortunately, a fact that it is gradually disappearing. There are parts, however, where there are no railways, no steamboats, and few tourists, and in such places the people still live much as they did a hundred years ago, even the men wearing clothes similar to those worn by their grandfathers and great-grandfathers, and some of these are quaint in the extreme.

Perhaps the quaintest dresses are those of the people of Sætersdal, a district in the South of Norway, between Christiansand and Telemarken; and, when properlyturned out, the men are quite as “dressy” as the women. They wear a pair of trousers buttoned with half a dozen silver buttons tight round the ankles, and coming right up to the armpits. Several broad stripes adorn the legs from top to bottom. And the coat takes the form of a curious little cape, richly embroidered with silver, and having sleeves, fastened at the wrists with more silver buttons. Shoes, with buckles, white stockings, and a cut-down tall hat, gaily decorated with ribbons and embroidery, complete the costume. The women wear short skirts—only a little below the knees—of dark blue, with a bright trimming round the bottom; coloured stockings; a bodice laced with silver, and covered with silver brooches and other ornaments; a waistbelt, which is sometimes entirely of metal; a kerchief tied over the head, after the fashion of the bandana of West Indian negresses; and on occasions a shawl of many colours.

A step farther north, in what is called Lower Telemarken, a similar kind of dress still exists, though the man’s waistcoat-jacket is of a somewhat different pattern and colour, and the women wear their skirts a trifle longer. On Sundays and great occasions the latter also put on cloth stockings and gloves, embroidered tastefully with trails of flowers.

But such dresses as these are not the national costume of Norway. For that we have to go still farther north—to the Hardanger. If an English girl wishes to dress a doll as a typical Norwegian, the clothes would be those of the Hardanger, and they would be these: a dark blue serge skirt (to the ankles), trimmed with black velvet and silver braid; awhite chemisette with full sleeves; a red flannel bodice embroidered with white, black, and silver, and glittering with brass saucer-shaped ornaments; and a waistbelt adorned with metal buttons. The effect is neat, bright, and decidedly piquant. The girls plait their fair hair in two long tails, wearing a handkerchief as a head-dress; but the married women have a most elaborate coiffure, something of the sister-of-mercy type, consisting of the so-calledskaut, or hood, and thelin, or forehead band. It takes a considerable time to put on, as the snow-white linen has to be most carefully stretched over a frame, which is first fastened on the top of the head, and then so arranged that the numerous small plaits hang in a particular manner. This is the ordinary head-dress, though the country women coming in to church on Sundays often wear curious old-fashioned bonnets, which have the appearance of being heirlooms handed down from generation to generation.

The men do not dress up to the women. They confine themselves to a rough trouser suit, generally of dark blue, and a black felt hat. Even amongst the older men of the Hardanger one seldom sees the knee-breeches and stockings which used to be worn.

A Hardanger BrideA Hardanger BridePage22.

A Hardanger Bride

Page22.

Chapter VISchool and PlayI am not certain whether Norse boys and girls are very good, or whether they are spoilt. You may travel all day on a steamer with a well-to-do family from thetown, or you may live in a farmhouse with a peasant’s family for a month, and the chances are that you will never hear the parents say “Don’t.” One thing I am sure of: the children who live in the country parts do very much as they please; in the summer they go to bed when they feel tired, sometimes not till nearly midnight; and they are not worried about getting their boots and their clothes wet, because no Norwegian troubles his or her head about such matters. Moreover, the life is such a simple one that perhaps there is little opportunity for real naughtiness.These country children have a very easy time, as for the greater part of the year they have no school to go to, and they spend all the summer out in the open air, looking after the ponies, cows, sheep, or goats, or hay-making, or rowing about, or fishing, or something of the kind. In the winter they, as well as the town children, are all obliged to go to school, from the age of seven to fourteen or fifteen—i.e.,until their Confirmation, and until this takes place they receive religious instruction from the priest on Sunday afternoons, for there is no religious teaching in the schools.There is a great difficulty about the country schools, because in some districts the farms are miles and miles apart, and it would be quite impossible for the children to walk to school and back in the day. In such districts the Government schoolmasters have to go about from place to place, and teach the children in their own homes. If there should be two or three farms close together, one of the farmers provides a schoolroom in his house, and the schoolmaster lives with him as his guest for a time, and then goes on to another house.But the schoolmasters must give every child twelve weeks’ schooling in the year. This does not amount to a great deal—only three months of school in the year!The wonder is that the children contrive to remember anything that they have learned, with nine long months in which to forget it. Yet they work hard while they are about it; they are inspected every year, and they are required to pass quite difficult examinations at the end. It is expected, however, that before long the twelve weeks’ compulsory schooling will be increased to fifteen weeks.In the towns the children are not forced to attend school for more than the twelve weeks in the year, but there are, of course, numbers of private schools, high schools, etc., to which parents can send their children, on payment, for a superior education. And at such schools the work goes on for a much longer period of the year—in fact, all through the year, except for two months in the summer and a week at Christmas and at Easter.It is all much the same as our own arrangements in England. There is the Government school, where the education is free, and there are other schools, where a higher education is paid for. But the compulsory schooling does not end with the seven years at the Government schools referred to above, for there are continuation schools, at which the pupils have to put in a further twenty-four weeks.In Norway there are no large public schools for boarders, so, in spite of their long holidays, the children do not have half the fun that English boys and girlshave. There is no cricket, football, hockey, golf, or any game of that sort, and there is not a racquet-, fives-, or tennis-court in the land. How then, you will ask, do they manage to amuse themselves?It must be remembered that the winter is much longer in Norway than it is with us, and even if the boys wanted to play football they would not be able to do so, as the ground is covered with snow. At that season they have their various winter sports to keep them busy—ski-ing, skating, tobogganing, and the like, and they do not require any other games. In the summer, instead of playing cricket, they go for walking tours into the mountains, or they go fishing in the rivers and lakes, or sometimes shooting.Though the Norwegians boast that ball games have been played in the country since Saga times, such games are of the most elementary kind, and would be scorned by any English boy. But for all that the Norse boys are every bit as manly as any other boys, because they enjoy many forms of sport which make them so; and they are strong, because they take plenty of exercise, and have physical drill in their schools.This brings us to other games played by Norwegian children—not the games which are purchased in the shops in Christiania, Bergen, and other towns, but the games which are played without any of the bought things. Of course the girls have dolls and dolls’ houses and dolls’ tea-parties, like the girls of every land, and there are toys of every description in the shops. The peasant children, however, who live far out in the country, never see a shop, and have to provide themselves with things to play with; but it is wonderfulwhat an amount of amusement they can get out of an old bone, or a block of wood, tied to a yard or two of string.As a rule their fathers are good hands at carving wood, so toys are easily made for the smaller children, and one finds everywhere such simple toys as wooden dolls, animals, miniature boats, sleighs, and carts.But the real enjoyment of the Norwegian children—at any rate of the girls—is the outdoor game, played when the weather is fine, both in the town and in the country, wherever there are enough children to make a game. To see a bevy of these quaint little girls throwing heart and soul into their games is delightful, and they have scores and scores of different ones. In most of them dancing and singing play a great part, and the most popular form of game is what is called a “Ring Dance,” in which, as the name implies, the players join hands and dance round in a circle.Many of these ring dances have their counterpart in English games, and the tunes and words sung to them are almost similar. Whether we adopted them from the Norwegians, or they adopted them from us, is a matter which will probably never be decided, but several games of this kind are common to all Europe. “Blind Man’s Buff,” “Hunt the Slipper,” and “Forfeits,” for instance, are found nearly everywhere. Here is the Norse version of “Round and round the Mulberry Bush,” which in some parts is called “The Washing-Maids’ Dance,” and in others “Round the Juniper Bush”:“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning.This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes,This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning.This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes,This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning.”The washing operations proceed through the next three days of the week, with a verse to each day. Thus on Wednesday they hang up the clothes, on Thursday they mangle them, and on Friday iron them. Then on Saturday they scrub the floor, and on Sunday go to church.With each verse the children dance hand in hand round the imaginary juniper bush, singing lustily, and illustrating the different actions of the washing operations. Finally, two and two and arm in arm, they promenade round, as if going to church, and generally prolong the walk while they sing the last verse a second time.Another very favourite game isSlængkompas, which is perhaps best translated almost literally as Scatter-Compass. It is a rapid game, and full of excitement. The players grasp hands in a circle and gallop round, singing the refrain as they go:“Those who would join inSlængkompasmust be tolerably quick!One—two—three—and four—and five.So comesSlængkompasagain.”When the counting begins the players let go hands, and, clapping to the tune, spin round separately until the word “five” is reached, when they should be in position ready to join hands again and continue to gallop round in the original circle.The aim of the game is to keep things going until the verse has been sung three times, but, of course, the players often become giddy and lose their places.There is not space to describe more of these ring dances here, but there are many of them, and a great many which our English children would do well to adopt.Our good old street game of “Hop-scotch” you may see played almost anywhere in Norway under the somewhat curious name of “Hop-in-Paradise,” while in some parts “Cat’s Cradle,” though a milder form of amusement, is quite popular, and a large variety of figures is known.Then the girls are very fond of dressing up as brides, with crowns and all, and having a mock wedding, with its accompanying procession and dancing. Above all things they love dancing, and their fathers and grandfathers play the fiddle for them for many an hour of a winter’s evening, while the mothers sing nursery rhymes to the smaller children. And, as with the games, these jingles are more or less the same as our own. They have “This is the house that Jack built,” with the malt, and the rat, and everything, only that they prefer the name Jacob to Jack. They have “Fly away, Peter, fly away, Paul”; and the baby on his mother’s knee has the joy of being shaken about to “This is the way the farmer rides, bumpety-bumpety-bump.”A Baby of TelemarkenA Baby of TelemarkenPage28.

I am not certain whether Norse boys and girls are very good, or whether they are spoilt. You may travel all day on a steamer with a well-to-do family from thetown, or you may live in a farmhouse with a peasant’s family for a month, and the chances are that you will never hear the parents say “Don’t.” One thing I am sure of: the children who live in the country parts do very much as they please; in the summer they go to bed when they feel tired, sometimes not till nearly midnight; and they are not worried about getting their boots and their clothes wet, because no Norwegian troubles his or her head about such matters. Moreover, the life is such a simple one that perhaps there is little opportunity for real naughtiness.

These country children have a very easy time, as for the greater part of the year they have no school to go to, and they spend all the summer out in the open air, looking after the ponies, cows, sheep, or goats, or hay-making, or rowing about, or fishing, or something of the kind. In the winter they, as well as the town children, are all obliged to go to school, from the age of seven to fourteen or fifteen—i.e.,until their Confirmation, and until this takes place they receive religious instruction from the priest on Sunday afternoons, for there is no religious teaching in the schools.

There is a great difficulty about the country schools, because in some districts the farms are miles and miles apart, and it would be quite impossible for the children to walk to school and back in the day. In such districts the Government schoolmasters have to go about from place to place, and teach the children in their own homes. If there should be two or three farms close together, one of the farmers provides a schoolroom in his house, and the schoolmaster lives with him as his guest for a time, and then goes on to another house.But the schoolmasters must give every child twelve weeks’ schooling in the year. This does not amount to a great deal—only three months of school in the year!

The wonder is that the children contrive to remember anything that they have learned, with nine long months in which to forget it. Yet they work hard while they are about it; they are inspected every year, and they are required to pass quite difficult examinations at the end. It is expected, however, that before long the twelve weeks’ compulsory schooling will be increased to fifteen weeks.

In the towns the children are not forced to attend school for more than the twelve weeks in the year, but there are, of course, numbers of private schools, high schools, etc., to which parents can send their children, on payment, for a superior education. And at such schools the work goes on for a much longer period of the year—in fact, all through the year, except for two months in the summer and a week at Christmas and at Easter.

It is all much the same as our own arrangements in England. There is the Government school, where the education is free, and there are other schools, where a higher education is paid for. But the compulsory schooling does not end with the seven years at the Government schools referred to above, for there are continuation schools, at which the pupils have to put in a further twenty-four weeks.

In Norway there are no large public schools for boarders, so, in spite of their long holidays, the children do not have half the fun that English boys and girlshave. There is no cricket, football, hockey, golf, or any game of that sort, and there is not a racquet-, fives-, or tennis-court in the land. How then, you will ask, do they manage to amuse themselves?

It must be remembered that the winter is much longer in Norway than it is with us, and even if the boys wanted to play football they would not be able to do so, as the ground is covered with snow. At that season they have their various winter sports to keep them busy—ski-ing, skating, tobogganing, and the like, and they do not require any other games. In the summer, instead of playing cricket, they go for walking tours into the mountains, or they go fishing in the rivers and lakes, or sometimes shooting.

Though the Norwegians boast that ball games have been played in the country since Saga times, such games are of the most elementary kind, and would be scorned by any English boy. But for all that the Norse boys are every bit as manly as any other boys, because they enjoy many forms of sport which make them so; and they are strong, because they take plenty of exercise, and have physical drill in their schools.

This brings us to other games played by Norwegian children—not the games which are purchased in the shops in Christiania, Bergen, and other towns, but the games which are played without any of the bought things. Of course the girls have dolls and dolls’ houses and dolls’ tea-parties, like the girls of every land, and there are toys of every description in the shops. The peasant children, however, who live far out in the country, never see a shop, and have to provide themselves with things to play with; but it is wonderfulwhat an amount of amusement they can get out of an old bone, or a block of wood, tied to a yard or two of string.

As a rule their fathers are good hands at carving wood, so toys are easily made for the smaller children, and one finds everywhere such simple toys as wooden dolls, animals, miniature boats, sleighs, and carts.

But the real enjoyment of the Norwegian children—at any rate of the girls—is the outdoor game, played when the weather is fine, both in the town and in the country, wherever there are enough children to make a game. To see a bevy of these quaint little girls throwing heart and soul into their games is delightful, and they have scores and scores of different ones. In most of them dancing and singing play a great part, and the most popular form of game is what is called a “Ring Dance,” in which, as the name implies, the players join hands and dance round in a circle.

Many of these ring dances have their counterpart in English games, and the tunes and words sung to them are almost similar. Whether we adopted them from the Norwegians, or they adopted them from us, is a matter which will probably never be decided, but several games of this kind are common to all Europe. “Blind Man’s Buff,” “Hunt the Slipper,” and “Forfeits,” for instance, are found nearly everywhere. Here is the Norse version of “Round and round the Mulberry Bush,” which in some parts is called “The Washing-Maids’ Dance,” and in others “Round the Juniper Bush”:

“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning.This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes,This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.

“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,

So we go round the juniper bush early on Monday morning.

This is the way we wash our clothes, wash our clothes, wash our clothes,

This is the way we wash our clothes early on Monday morning.

“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning.This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes,This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning.”

“So we go round the juniper bush, the juniper bush, the juniper bush,

So we go round the juniper bush early on Tuesday morning.

This is the way we ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes, ring out our clothes,

This is the way we ring out our clothes early on Tuesday morning.”

The washing operations proceed through the next three days of the week, with a verse to each day. Thus on Wednesday they hang up the clothes, on Thursday they mangle them, and on Friday iron them. Then on Saturday they scrub the floor, and on Sunday go to church.

With each verse the children dance hand in hand round the imaginary juniper bush, singing lustily, and illustrating the different actions of the washing operations. Finally, two and two and arm in arm, they promenade round, as if going to church, and generally prolong the walk while they sing the last verse a second time.

Another very favourite game isSlængkompas, which is perhaps best translated almost literally as Scatter-Compass. It is a rapid game, and full of excitement. The players grasp hands in a circle and gallop round, singing the refrain as they go:

“Those who would join inSlængkompasmust be tolerably quick!One—two—three—and four—and five.So comesSlængkompasagain.”

“Those who would join inSlængkompasmust be tolerably quick!

One—two—three—and four—and five.

So comesSlængkompasagain.”

When the counting begins the players let go hands, and, clapping to the tune, spin round separately until the word “five” is reached, when they should be in position ready to join hands again and continue to gallop round in the original circle.

The aim of the game is to keep things going until the verse has been sung three times, but, of course, the players often become giddy and lose their places.

There is not space to describe more of these ring dances here, but there are many of them, and a great many which our English children would do well to adopt.

Our good old street game of “Hop-scotch” you may see played almost anywhere in Norway under the somewhat curious name of “Hop-in-Paradise,” while in some parts “Cat’s Cradle,” though a milder form of amusement, is quite popular, and a large variety of figures is known.

Then the girls are very fond of dressing up as brides, with crowns and all, and having a mock wedding, with its accompanying procession and dancing. Above all things they love dancing, and their fathers and grandfathers play the fiddle for them for many an hour of a winter’s evening, while the mothers sing nursery rhymes to the smaller children. And, as with the games, these jingles are more or less the same as our own. They have “This is the house that Jack built,” with the malt, and the rat, and everything, only that they prefer the name Jacob to Jack. They have “Fly away, Peter, fly away, Paul”; and the baby on his mother’s knee has the joy of being shaken about to “This is the way the farmer rides, bumpety-bumpety-bump.”

A Baby of TelemarkenA Baby of TelemarkenPage28.

A Baby of Telemarken

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