CHAPTER II.

Content with the thistle they tramped o’er the road,And never repined at the weight of the load.

It was necessary for the success of the expedition, that the party should be composed of not less than four; but one who had before accompanied our wanderings, was unable to come. Our preparations were partly made, and his loss as a fellowcompagnon de voyagewas irreparable. Skilful in designing and making a tent, fullof resource in camp life, never without an expedient to overcome a difficulty, a sketcher from nature, cheerful under all exposure, temperate in all his pleasures, ever ready with his song and guitar; at eveningtide, by the flickering embers of the camp fire, by the silent lake, or in the mountaincwm, or lonely glen—his loss was indeed to be regretted. His lithe figure, and luxuriant raven-black hair, shading in heavy tresses his ample forehead, jet-black eyes, and thoughtful countenance bronzed by exposure, strongly resembled the true gipsy type. By other gipsies whom we had chanced to meet, he had been thought of better gipsy blood than our own gipsy people.

Our right hand seemed gone. As we lounged into the gipsies’ camp, there was no sun to illumine our way to the north. The partymustbe made up to four; but no other friend would venture on the exposure of a camp life in a foreign country. The romantic scenery, the novelty and charm of a nomadic life in nature’s wildest scenes, completely failed to allure them from their comfortable homes.

So the party was to be made up to four. The Rye was not to go without a sufficient escort to take care of him. Tall Noah would pitch the tents and pack the animals. Esmeralda, as the forlorn hope, would do all the cooking, and undertake the arrangements of the tent, which our friend had beforetime done with our joint assistance. Zacharia, the “boshomengro” (violin-player), would again obtain water, and make the fire. They would each have one animal under their charge. With this arrangement we were obliged to content ourselves. Esmeralda, who was nearly sixteen years old, was tall,spare, and active, and wonderfully strong for her age. She had dark hair, and eyes full of fathomless fire. Zacharia had certain nervous misgivings about being chopped up by a bear in his tent some night; tigers and lions were also inquired after; but, all being settled, there was no flinching, and our gipsies were ready on the day named.

“He is an excellent oriental scholar, and he tells me that amongst the gipsies are the remains of a language (peculiar to themselves) in which are traces of Sanscrit. Sir David Baird, too, was remarkably struck with the resemblance of some of the Sepoys to the English gipsies. They are evidently not the dregs of any people. The countenances of many of the females are beautiful, as those of the males are manly.”—The Peacock at Rowsly.

GIPSY EQUIPMENT—NORWEGIAN GIPSIES—PRESTEN EILERT SUNDT—THE HULL STEAMER—THE TOURIST’S FRIEND—OUR GIPSY SONG.

The gipsies’ equipment and wardrobe was not extensive; some additions given by the Rye made them upassez bien pour la voyage. One or two waistcoats, and a handkerchief or two, formed, we believe, the whole of Noah and Zacharia’s change. But their boots! those were unexceptionable. They must be new—they must be thick—they must be nailed—double and treble nailed. One shoemaker failed in solidity and soundness of substratum; but at last, to the Rye’s comfort and inexpressible relief, a more skilled follower of St. Crispin produced somechef d’œuvresof ponderous construction, which the gipsies admitted to be masterpieces. The man who drove the nails had well-earned his wages; the soles, indeed, at length resembled one of those old-fashioned oak doors, that one sometimes sees in ancient castles, or manorial residences. We duly discharged their cost, consoling ourselves with the reflection that we hadnot to walk in them through Norway. Esmeralda had one dress to change. What it wanted in skirt, was made up by the ornamentation of plaid braid, and silver buttons, quite in accordance with the fashion of some Norwegian districts. She had no bandboxes, chignon-boxes, gloveboxes, parasols, umbrellas, caps, pomades, perfumes, and a thousand other things often required. A long Alpine cloak, and a few articles of change, formed a very slight addition to our baggage.

There are Norwegian gipsies. Even Norway has been reached by wandering hordes of this singular people.10We were desirous of comparing the language of English gipsies with that of the Norwegian Zigeuner; we were anxious to see some of the roving Tater-pak of this Northern land. In our researches into the history, language, origin, and probable fate of this wild, wandering people, who still cling with remarkable tenacity to their ancient modes of life and language, we had met with the interesting works of Presten Eilert Sundt—a gentleman who has given much time and indefatigableenergy to a complete investigation of the present state of the Norwegian gipsies, and has formed a vocabulary of the Romany language as spoken by them in Norway.

Presten Sundt’s notes will remain a valuable record of the footsteps of this people in the world. His first work, “Beretning om Fante-eller Landstrygerfolket i Norge,” was published at Christiania in 1852; it was succeeded by “Anden aars Beretning om Fantefolket,” published at Christiania in 1862. To him the Norwegian Government are indebted for the only information which we believe has yet been given relative to the Norwegian gipsies. The extracts from Presten Sundt’s works, expressly made for us, will be found in the Appendix to this work.

Our preparations had wonderfully progressed: besides bags of various kinds we had threepockets, as the gipsies call them,—one for each animal. The pocket is a large broad, flat sack, sewed up at both ends, with a slit on one side, which buttons. The blankets and rugs, &c., are folded and packed flat into it through the slit or opening. Any hard substances are placed at each end of the pocket, so that the donkey’s back may not be injured. The pocket is placed flat over the tent covers, and then girthed tightly round the animal. The bags, tent-rods, and other things are fastened by cords passing between the girth and the pocket.

A steamer was to sail from Hull in June, and we ultimately arranged to take a return ticket from Hull to Norway and back, ourself first-class, and the gipsies second-class: our return tickets cost us £25, includingthe carriage of three animals, either donkeys or horses, whichever we might wish to take, going or returning. At one time we thought of going by the special steamer to Throndhjem, intended for the convenience of sportsmen, but as the voyage was longer, and the fare considerably higher, we gave up the idea. Messrs. Wilson were most prompt in giving us every information, and when we had decided to go, they secured us an excellent berth, and received our heavy baggage when forwarded.

BREAKING UP CAMP: GIPSY POCKET AND LOADED DONKEY.

We soon received a small publication, by John Bradley, entitled, “Norway, its Fjords, Fjelds, and Fosses, and How to See Them for Fifteen Guineas:” with a tempting view of Norwegian scenery on the cover. Unfortunately we could not travel at so cheap arate with our party; but we recommend the publication to intending tourists.

We now wrote to Mr. Bennett, 17,Store Strandgade, Christiania, who is a perfect oracle upon all matters pertaining to Norway, and gives ready aid to northern tourists, and he at once sent the maps we required. We afterwards received his newly revised Guide Book, which is indispensable to all Norwegian travellers.

A gipsy song was composed by us for our campaign,—a sort of souvenir, to be given here and there,—a memorial of our visit; we had it translated into Norwegian. It was a guitar song, with an engraved border, illustrative of gipsy life. The music was arranged by our friend, of whose regretted absence, we have already spoken. He had taken it from an air, which he once heard played, by an Italian boy, in the streets of London. It had since dwelt on his memory. The following is the music of the air, and the song follows, with a Norwegian translation, which is said, to be exceedingly good.

MUSIC OF GIPSIES’ NORWEGIAN SONG.

ZIGEUNERNES SANG TIL NORGE.Hil dig du kjœre gamle Land!Hvor Frihed og Munterhed boe,Vi Zigeunere komme til din StrandForat vandre med dig i Ro.Vi vandre paa Mark, vi vandre i FjordI det stolte gamle Norge.Der leve gjœve Folk i Nord,Thi her ere Frihedens Borge.I mit Telt ved din blanke SöeBelyst af Maanen södt jeg drömmer.Din Erindring hos mig vil aldrig döeDine höie Granskove jeg ikke glemmer.Giv os Eders Velkomst til Norgesland,Hvor Alter saa yndigt at skue.I Eders Fædres Bryst for den fremmede MandOpflammede Venskabets Lue.Den hellige Olaf velsigned dig.De djærve Haralders Jord,Om dig stedse siges sandelig:Som Guld kan man tage dit Ord.Farvel! vi Afsked maa tage,Og besöge hver Skov og hvert FjeldVor Velsignelse Eder altid ledsageOg gjentone vort sidste Farvel.

ZIGEUNERNES SANG TIL NORGE.

Hil dig du kjœre gamle Land!Hvor Frihed og Munterhed boe,Vi Zigeunere komme til din StrandForat vandre med dig i Ro.Vi vandre paa Mark, vi vandre i FjordI det stolte gamle Norge.Der leve gjœve Folk i Nord,Thi her ere Frihedens Borge.I mit Telt ved din blanke SöeBelyst af Maanen södt jeg drömmer.Din Erindring hos mig vil aldrig döeDine höie Granskove jeg ikke glemmer.Giv os Eders Velkomst til Norgesland,Hvor Alter saa yndigt at skue.I Eders Fædres Bryst for den fremmede MandOpflammede Venskabets Lue.Den hellige Olaf velsigned dig.De djærve Haralders Jord,Om dig stedse siges sandelig:Som Guld kan man tage dit Ord.Farvel! vi Afsked maa tage,Og besöge hver Skov og hvert FjeldVor Velsignelse Eder altid ledsageOg gjentone vort sidste Farvel.

Hil dig du kjœre gamle Land!Hvor Frihed og Munterhed boe,Vi Zigeunere komme til din StrandForat vandre med dig i Ro.

Vi vandre paa Mark, vi vandre i FjordI det stolte gamle Norge.Der leve gjœve Folk i Nord,Thi her ere Frihedens Borge.

I mit Telt ved din blanke SöeBelyst af Maanen södt jeg drömmer.Din Erindring hos mig vil aldrig döeDine höie Granskove jeg ikke glemmer.

Giv os Eders Velkomst til Norgesland,Hvor Alter saa yndigt at skue.I Eders Fædres Bryst for den fremmede MandOpflammede Venskabets Lue.

Den hellige Olaf velsigned dig.De djærve Haralders Jord,Om dig stedse siges sandelig:Som Guld kan man tage dit Ord.

Farvel! vi Afsked maa tage,Og besöge hver Skov og hvert FjeldVor Velsignelse Eder altid ledsageOg gjentone vort sidste Farvel.

THE GIPSIES’ NORWEGIAN SONG.Welcome, you dear old land,Land of the gay and free;We are a gipsy band,And wander awhile with thee.In fiord and fell we wander,Nor tire, old Norge, of thee,A people so brave, and no wonder—For they live in the land of the free.I dream in my tent by your Indsöe,When the moonlight hour is mine,And my heart can never forget you,And your beautiful forests of pine.Give us your welcome to Norway,Where all is lovely and fair;Your fathers of old never tardyTheir friendship with strangers to share.Blessed by St. Olaf the holy,Land of Harold the bold,Of you it is ever said trulyYour word is as good as your gold.And now adieu; we must leave you,To wander each forest and fell;Our blessing for ever attend you,And echo our parting farewell.

THE GIPSIES’ NORWEGIAN SONG.

Welcome, you dear old land,Land of the gay and free;We are a gipsy band,And wander awhile with thee.In fiord and fell we wander,Nor tire, old Norge, of thee,A people so brave, and no wonder—For they live in the land of the free.I dream in my tent by your Indsöe,When the moonlight hour is mine,And my heart can never forget you,And your beautiful forests of pine.Give us your welcome to Norway,Where all is lovely and fair;Your fathers of old never tardyTheir friendship with strangers to share.Blessed by St. Olaf the holy,Land of Harold the bold,Of you it is ever said trulyYour word is as good as your gold.And now adieu; we must leave you,To wander each forest and fell;Our blessing for ever attend you,And echo our parting farewell.

Welcome, you dear old land,Land of the gay and free;We are a gipsy band,And wander awhile with thee.

In fiord and fell we wander,Nor tire, old Norge, of thee,A people so brave, and no wonder—For they live in the land of the free.

I dream in my tent by your Indsöe,When the moonlight hour is mine,And my heart can never forget you,And your beautiful forests of pine.

Give us your welcome to Norway,Where all is lovely and fair;Your fathers of old never tardyTheir friendship with strangers to share.

Blessed by St. Olaf the holy,Land of Harold the bold,Of you it is ever said trulyYour word is as good as your gold.

And now adieu; we must leave you,To wander each forest and fell;Our blessing for ever attend you,And echo our parting farewell.

“The woods are green, the hedges whiteWith leaves, and blossoms fair;There’s music in the forest now,And I too must be there.”Jeffreys.

A FRIEND’S MISGIVING—DARK FOREBODINGS—A SLEEPLESS NIGHT—THE RAILWAY STATION—THE ALBION—A PHILOSOPHER—THE STREET BOY—DISTINGUISHED TRAVELLERS.

We had nearly completed our preparations, and were leaving town, when we dined one evening with a friend whom we had not seen for some time. He seemed interested in our approaching excursion, but his astonishment was great, when our plan was divulged.

“What! going to Norway with gipsies?” said he in amazement, as he poised in his hand, a glass of champagne. “Why I don’t believe my friend Tom Taylor, who has taken a great interest in the gipsy language, ever went so far as to camp with them. You’ll be robbed, and murdered—not the slightest doubt. Travel with gipsies!” exclaimed our friend, and he seemed to shudder at the thought

We were quite unable to say how much self-sacrifice Mr. Tom Taylor may have made. We had read his interesting collection of Breton Ballads. He writes well on a great variety of subjects, and is an excellent artcritic; but we could not give any opinion upon his camp experience. My friend shook his head, “Write to me when you get there,—promise to write me a letter,” said he earnestly. “Yes, you will be certainly robbed, and murdered,” and he silently emptied his glass.

There was something touching in his manner, as he gulped down the effervescent draught, with a look which showed plainly that he had no hope for our safe return.

In the drawing-room the subject seemed one of interest. We gave our friend a promise to write. As we left the house, his adieux were those of separation, for the last time.

It had been a wild rainy night. What with packing, and writing letters, we never went to bed.Mes gens de la maisonremained up also. After a very early breakfast we wereen route. As we drove up to the railway station of a large populous town, we caught sight of our gipsies. They were waiting for us with the three donkeys in the shelter of some open building of the station. The gipsies looked wet, draggled, and miry, but full of spirits. As we stepped from the carriage, a porter took charge of our twelve packages.

We had received previously full and explicit information from the passenger department as to the trains and expense of transit, and had engaged a horse box to Hull. One of the officials, seemed rather astonished, when he found three donkeys, were to be conveyed in the horse-box, he scarcely seemed able to connect a horse-box, with the proposed freight.

A stray policeman seemed puzzled at the retinue. The three gipsies, saluting us withShawshon baugh, Sir?(How do you do, Sir?) marched up and down theplatform, apparently much pleased at our arrival. The stray policeman wandered about, as if he was up, and down, and nohow, as to what it all meant, or whether the gipsies, belonged to us, or themselves. He was lingering near, when we produced a 10l.Bank of England note at the booking-office, in payment for our tickets. A new light then beamed on his mind, and we did not see him again. The horse-box was paid for. The porter got labels for all our packages, and timidly ventured to inquire the use of the tent-rods, which he had curiously regarded for some time. We secured a second-class, and a first-class compartment in the same carriage, all was arranged, the signal was given, and we were off. We had only one change—at Leeds—and no stoppage. The horse-box went right through. A pleasantcompagnon de voyage, accompanied us most of the journey; he had lately come from the blue skies of Italy.

The gipsies were joined by an inquisitive fellow-traveller, in a white hat. Some people trouble themselves about everybody else’s business but their own. He cross-examined them, as to who we were, and where we came from. “Gloucestershire,” said Noah—“we all came from Gloucestershire this morning.” “You must have started very early,” said the inquisitive traveller. “Oh, yes,” said Noah with emphasis—“very early.”

It was a damp, wet morning, as we arrived on Friday, the 17th June, 1871, at the Hull station, and found ourselves on the platform. We left the gipsies, to look after the donkeys, which were put in some stables at the station; and taking all our things in a cab to theAlbionsteamer, we put them on board. Messrs. Wilson were called upon. They are prompt men of business; totheir word in all things. Ample arrangements would be made to shelter the donkeys during the voyage, and we paid our fare. At the station on our return we found a civil porter waiting for us, and having paid the stout stableman 1s.for each donkey, the gipsies took them on board about one or two o’clock in the day.

Much curiosity was created when the gipsies came on deck. The steward of the vessel said, they seemed to have lately come from a warm country.

TheAlbionsteamer had small, but comfortable second-class accommodation. No meal could be had until seven o’clock; but the second steward managed to get the gipsies some sandwiches and ale. They had been feden routein the morning, and were quite satisfied, with the refreshments so provided.

During the previous wet night, they had camped some distance from the starting point, and had ridden the donkeys through the rain to the railway station. Noah and Zacharia had no great-coats, but Esmeralda was dressed in her long Alpine cloak, and treble necklace of blue, and white beads. Her straw hat was surmounted by a small plume of feathers, dyed blue, by one of her brothers. She did not wear earrings, and had no other ornament.

We had left the steamer to obtain some methylated spirit for our Russian lamp, and to call at Messrs. Wilson and Co.‘s, when we remembered, that we had forgotten our watch-keys. A watchmaker’s shop was soon found. The watchmaker was a merry-looking man. The watch had always been provided with one key to wind it up, and another to regulate the hands. We had always been assured, that two different keys, were required.“Ha! ha!! ha!!!” laughed the watchmaker, who was apparently a German, “I will give you one key which will do the same thing—ha! ha!! ha!!!”

It was a beautifully formed key, nor had we ever met with one like it before.

The watchmaker appeared to us as a second Jean BatisteSchwilguéof Strasbourg.11“Ha! ha!! ha!!!” laughed the merry little man, “all is mystery. We eat and drink, but we comprehend nothing. Ah! we often end in believing nothing.” We remarked that no one who contemplated with attention the works of Nature could overlook the design of a great Creator. The watchmaker went to an inner door. A pretty girl probably his daughter, changed a shilling for him. “Ah!” continued he, “you see by travel; you take in through the eyes; they are the great vehicles of human life. I laugh at them, ha! ha!! ha!!!” and he bowed as I left the shop.

We were now nearly ready for the voyage; as we passed from the gates of the railway station an interesting-looking boy, pleaded hard to black our boots. It is an honest way of making a livelihood. In this instance we stepped aside—one boot was just finished, when he suddenly bolted. Although he did not wait for his money, he did not forget the paraphernalia of his business. Another boy explained, that he was not allowed to black boots so near the station, and a policeman in the distance had caused his hasty disappearance.

The boy again met us soon after, and completed his work; we were glad to have the chance of paying him.

When we went on board the steamer, all was confusion. On the wharf, we had 1s.wharfage, to pay for each animal. The total expenses of our party to join the steamer amounted to 10l.9s.6d.including 6s.11d.for hay, supplied to the donkeys for the voyage.

The evening was damp and gloomy. An old weather-beaten Norwegian pilot wandered about the deck. Men in oilskin coats, smelling strongly of tar and tobacco-quid, hustle and bustle, against everything. Very comfortable accommodation, had been erected specially for the animals near the engines, in the waist of the steamer. Esmeralda was feeding them with hay.

When the gipsies were afterwards looking over the side of the vessel, they formed an interesting group. Then came the active steward, of the second cabin, who promised us to take care of them. The second steward was a small, but firmly-knit, active young fellow, who said he had been wrecked twice, in the old coat he was then wearing, and for which, therefore, he had a strong affection; after saying he should go next winter to California, he left us to look after his many arrangements.

We were informed that Sir Charles Mordaunt and also Lord Muncaster,12who had so narrowly escaped theAthenian brigands, had left Hull in the special steamer forThrondhjemon the previous evening.

“Zarca.It is well.You shall not long count days in weariness:Ere the full moon has waned again to new,We shall reach Almeria; Berber shipsWill take us for their freight, and we shall goWith plenteous spoil, not stolen, bravely wonBy service done on Spaniards. Do you shrink?Are you aught less than a Zincala?”George Eliot’sSpanish Gipsy.

ENGLAND’S FAREWELL—SUMMER TOURISTS—THE CHEVALIER—SEAFARING—A GIPSY RECEPTION—CHANGE OF PLANS—NORWEGIAN PILOT—THE BIRMINGHAM BAGMAN—INDUCEMENT TO AUTHORSHIP—STRANGE WILLS—A SAILOR’S PHILOSOPHY—ICELANDIC LANGUAGE—PROGNOSTICATIONS.

The steamer’s saloon was elegantly fitted up. Bouquets of flowers shed their fragrance on each table; books, pens, and ink had been supplied for the use of the voyagers. One passenger soon entered, carrying a long sword; another—a French gentleman—followed, and expressed a wish to be in the same cabin with his wife. We have pleasure in saying that we found the captain very agreeable, and courteous.

TheAlbionsteamer left the Hull docks at eight o’clock the same evening, being towed out by a steam-tug. The under-steward, went to meet some passengers, whose arrival was expected by a late train, but returned without having found them. The gipsies and ourself, as we stood looking over the bulwarks of the steamer, took our last view of the fading shore, and the steamer was soon fairlyon her voyage. Our gipsies were almost famished; but we managed to get them some tea, at nine o’clock, and they went off to bed.

Our cabin was one of the best in the steamer. We awoke as daylight dawned through the open bull’s-eye window of our upper berth. Not feeling decidedly well, or ill, we got up, to see how we were; then we had some conversation, with our fellow-passenger in the berth below. (We were the only two occupants of the cabin.) This traveller, who was invisible behind the curtain of his berth, informed us that he was going on business to Gottenberg; while we told him, that we were going to make a tour, in the wilds of Norway.

When we sought our gipsies, we found that they were not up. In company with several of our fellow-passengers, we afterwards sat down to a capital breakfast provided for us in the saloon. The steamer had its usual complement of travellers to Norway in summer—some for fishing, some for health, and some for business.

One pale, gentlemanly passenger, whose acquaintance we made, had met with an accident to his leg. Another agreeable tourist, whom we will call Mr. C., was accompanied by his wife—a tall young lady, with a Tyrolese hat and feather. A young invalid officer, just returned from Italy, had had the Roman fever, and was given up; he had, however, recovered sufficiently to travel, and intended going to Lyngdal to join some friends. There were also two or three Norwegian gentlemen (one of them, a Chevalier de l’Ordre de Wasa), a Scotch traveller with a large sandy beard, and a tall, portly gentleman, going to visit some friends near Christiania.

Finding we had three donkeys on board, the Chevalierand another passenger accompanied us to see them. The first-named gentleman, was especially interested in our proposed excursion. How shall we describe him?

He was rather under middle height, thick-set, and strongly built; and occasionally his countenance expressed, much animation, and good-humoured energy. The information he possessed was extensive; he spoke English perfectly; had travelled much, and knew Scandinavia, and its people well.

The donkeys were declared very fine ones, especially the large light-coloured animal, with a dark cross on its shoulders, long, finely-formed legs, and beautiful head. This donkey was about six years old, and we called it the Puru Rawnee.13

The next donkey, was a dark animal, five years old, strong, but not so finely formed; although not so spirited,it endured all the fatigue of long travel, even better than its two companions; we called it the Puro Rye.14

The third was about four years old, with a beautiful head, very lively, and was called the Tarno Rye.15They seemed to relish the hay, and made themselves quite at home.

The donkeys became objects ofspecialinterest, and the Puru Rawnee wasmuchadmired. Most of the passengers had something to recount as to their impressions. A Norwegian gentleman said that they had no donkeys in Norway, which we afterwards found to be quite correct. Another good-humouredly said, that sixpence each ought to be charged, and the entrance closed. Many were the suggestions, and speculations, concerning them by the passengers, as they quietly puffed their cigars. The gentleman of the Roman fever, who seemed to be improving each hour, said in a significant manner, during a pause in the conversation, “You’ll write a book; your experience will be interesting—you ought to write a book.”

We now went to find our gipsies, or what was left of them. Esmeralda was lying on the deck, with her head on a closed hatchway. She raised her head in a most doleful manner, and said, “Very bad, sir.” Noah was lying next his sister, and sat up for a moment looking very wild. Zacharia was extended full length, perfectly speechless. Evidently, they wished themselves on shore again.

Great curiosity was excited among the passengers to see the gipsies. We explained, that they were in a very prostrate condition—in fact, quite unable to hold muchintercourse, with the outer world; but at length we yielded, and introduced a party to them. The interview was short, and as our gipsies were still lying on the deck, and quite unable to do the honours of the reception, we soon left them in peace. The passengers were apparently much pleased with the introduction.

They were real gipsies—gipsies who had all their life roamed England with their tents—none of your half-and-half caravan people—an effeminate race, who sleep in closed boxes, gaudily painted outside, with a stove, and a large fire within. Ours were nomads, who slept on the ground, and wandered with their tents, during every season of the year.

The steward took care we did not starve. Our dinner was quite a success. The table groaned beneath the weight of soup, salmon, roast beef, veal, ducks and green peas, young potatoes, puddings, Stilton and Cheshire cheese, &c., with excellent claret from a Norwegian house at Christiania.

The gipsies did not give much sign of revival. During the afternoon, we visited them now, and then, consoled them, and gave the steward orders, to let them have whatever they wanted.

We had a long conversation, with the Chevalier, as to our route, through Norway. It had been our intention to make Christiansand our starting-point, go through the wilds of the Thelemarken, and visit again the Gousta Mountain, and the Rjukan Fos. The Chevalier suggested Christiania, as the best starting-point, taking railway to Eidsvold, where, he said, Presten Eilert Sundt resided. He then said, we could travel by road, or steamer, to Lillehammer, and from thence through the Gudbrandsdalen.He afterwards sketched out a very long and interesting route, having its termination at Christiansand, and we determined to follow as far as possible his suggestions.

There were many inquiries by the passengers as to how the gipsies fared, and we went to see them again just before tea-time. Zacharia was in bed, and asleep; Noah was just getting into bed; and Esmeralda was in the second-class women’s cabin, with some tea, and bread-and-butter before her, looking exceedingly poorly. The close proximity to a stout woman who was dreadfully sea-sick, was not enlivening.

The Norwegian pilot, who was a good-tempered old man, had been much interested with the nails in the gipsies’ boots; when they were lying on the deck, he would sometimes stoop down to make a close inspection, as if he were counting them. He said nothing, but probably thought more.

The occupant of our cabin, when we saw him, was a young man with an eye to business; in fact, some of the passengers averred afterwards, that he could calculate in a few moments, the exact amount, the steamer cost, to a fourpenny nail. He seemed, however, to be very well intentioned, in his inquisitive analysis of everybody, and everything. He was said by some one to be a Birmingham bagman, whilst others said he was a wandering Jew; but whether Jew or Gentile, he took a decided interest in the gipsies, and the donkeys, for which we suppose there was some excuse. He had dark hair, eyebrows, and beard, pale complexion, and generally walked with his hands in his pockets, and his shoulders screwed up to the back of his neck. His head, was inclined downwards, whilst helooked at you, with large rolling eyes, from under his bushy eyebrows, with a quick upward glance of inquiry. Now and then, he would walk off to see the donkeys, and report on his return, to the other passengers, his views as to their state of comfort, and happiness.

Somehow his opinion, did not appear to have much weight with the other passengers—whether it was from want of intelligence on their part, or obscurity of perception, we could not say. At tea-time he sat opposite to us; he dashed wildly into salad, and then said in a loud voice across the table, “I have seen your donkeys; I should like to go with you.” “You seem to like them,” we replied. “No!” exclaimed he, very wildly; “it is your gipsies’ dark eyes.”

“He is insane,” said the Chevalier, in an under tone, to which we readily assented. The bagman certainly did look wild; and it immediately occurred to us that he slept under our berth, in the same cabin—not a lively contemplation, but we were determined, not to meet trouble halfway.

We had entered up some of our notes, and had strolled on deck to enjoy the freshness of the sea-breeze, when we found ourselves one of a small party of passengers, whiling away the time, in pleasant conversation, in which our captain joined.

“You must write a book,” said the officer who had had the Roman fever.

“And dedicate it to you?” we rejoined.

“I will take one copy,” said one passenger.

“I will take three copies,” said our captain.

“Ah!” said another, “it should be on the saloon table.”

“And then,” said another, “it will be interesting to know the fate of the three donkeys.”

We admitted that, after so much encouragement, we must write a book, and dedicate it to the officer, who had had the Roman fever.

Several anecdotes were related. One passenger said, “There was a house near Hyde Park, which formerly belonged to an old gentleman, who left his property to trustees on certain trusts, provided they buried him on the top of his house.”16Several instances were told of persons desiring in their wills to be buried in their garden; and one or two cases were mentioned where the wish had been disregarded.

The weather became rainy, and ourcompagnons de voyage, sought shelter elsewhere. We, however, stillclung to the fresh sea-air, and as we paced the deck near the wheel, we could not help observing the silent seaman, gazing intently in solemn earnestness, on his compass, as if, like Dr. Dee, he noted many things, within a magic crystal. He was a good-looking, though weather-beaten man, with a dark moustache.

In answer to an observation we made, as to the weather, he said, “Well, sir, I never felt it so cold as it was last Sunday—not even in the Baltic last winter, when I had ice, an inch thick on my back. Why, I had three coats on last Sunday!”

We then remarked, that there were few accidents on the line of steamers.

“Accidents you think seldom occur on this line? Well, I don’t know. There was theEcholast winter; not a soul saved! I’ve slipped four in my time, as have soon after gone down.”

“You’ve been lucky,” said we.

“Lucky? Well—if there is such a thing as luck; but I think Providence ordains all things; I believe all things are ordained for us.” Many sailors we have met, have been men of deep religious feeling; below a rough surface, we have often found much true piety.

The Chevalier still remained on deck, and we had a long conversation about Iceland. The Icelandic language is the same as the old Norwegian language; but he told us that it is difficult for one who speaks onlymodernNorwegian, to learn Icelandic. In Iceland, he said, they were great snuff-takers; it was calculated that each person took 2lbs. of snuff per head each year. Like the Scotch, they had their mulls or snuff-horns.

At twelve o’clock on this day, the thermometer stoodat 62.° The ladies had scarcely appeared; they generally suffer more than gentlemen.

It was nearly twelve at night when we entered our cabin to go to bed. The occupant of the second berth was invisible, but not asleep; and he asked whether we objected to have the cabin-door open. We were only too glad to oblige him, and with the bull’s-eye window open also, we had an agreeable atmosphere.

His mind was apparently still dwelling upon the gipsies. An interrogating voice issued from the lower berth, as we were preparing to go to bed.

“I suppose you have been writing your diary?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I suppose you will write a book? I will take two copies. Have you a bed or a mattrass in your tent?”

“No!”

“That would not do for me. I should have an air bed to keep you off the ground. You will probably stay a day or two at Christiania? I suppose the gipsy girl will cook for you? She will suffer, and be ill, won’t she? You will have much trouble with her.”

We informed him she had more spirit, and was quite as strong as her brothers.

Our fellow-passenger again continued, “Where did you engage them?”

We answered, we had known them some time, and they were attached to us; and then, wishing him good-night, we left him to pursue his dreams of the gipsies’ dark eyes, which had evidently made an impression upon him.

Our shrewd calculator was evidently under the gipsies’ spell.

“Que veut dire ce mot la, Esmeralda?”“Je ne sais pas,” dit-elle.“A quelle langue appartient-il?”“C’est de l’Égyptien, je crois.”Notre Dame de Paris, parVictor Hugo.“What is the meaning of the name Esmeralda?”“I don’t know,” said she.“To what language does it belong?”“It is Egyptian, I believe.”

“Que veut dire ce mot la, Esmeralda?”“Je ne sais pas,” dit-elle.“A quelle langue appartient-il?”“C’est de l’Égyptien, je crois.”Notre Dame de Paris, parVictor Hugo.

“What is the meaning of the name Esmeralda?”“I don’t know,” said she.“To what language does it belong?”“It is Egyptian, I believe.”

A SEAMAN’S ADVENTURES—THE UNFORTUNATE TOURIST—AN APT QUOTATION—FREEMASONRY—CHRISTIANSAND—PAST RECOLLECTIONS—THE RUNIC STONE—OVERPAYMENT—TWO SALMON FISHERMEN—A TRAVELLER’S CURIOSITY—NORWEGIAN SNAKES—SCENERY—WE ARE ONE—GOLDEN OPINIONS.

On Sunday morning, the 19th of June, we rose at four o’clock, and went on deck. The morning was cloudy; not a passenger to be seen. The seaman at the helm received our salutation. This one did not possess a moustache, but he had his say, and said it. He philosophised thus. His wages were not 4l.a month. “4l.,” said he, “I ought to have; but if I did not take less, they would ship men at 3l.who would. There were 300 men in the Custom House at Hull who never did more than two hours’ work a day. They had not got it for them to do. He had been to California, and had, by gold digging, accumulated in a few months 350l.—was stuck-up coming down the country—lost all—shipped to Valparaiso, got about 80l., and set up in business. TheSpaniards and the Chilians had a row, and he walked off and lost everything. Had not done much—did not know where a man could go to make money—England was overcrowded. They were emigrating now from Norway, to the United States and Canada. Had tried Australia, but did nothing there. Had seen men in Sydney who were walking about, and could not get more than two hours’ work. Thought it best to stick to England, though he could not get higher wages; but, somehow,” said he (finishing up) as he gave the wheel a pull, “we seem to be all going along together; I suppose we shall come out at some gate, or other. It beats me, but I suppose it will be all right at last.”

We took advantage of early hours—our diary progressed. Leave nothing to memory, but that page of perception, which gilds the past, with a thousand golden spangles. The tints of remembrance, give more genial hue. As a record of truth, the facts must be rigidly noted; they must have instant impress, if they are to be of value.

One by one, passengers appear in the saloon from their cabins. The Scotch tourist with a large sandy beard enters. He was one in search of health, and had by accident fallen thirty-seven feet, which nearly killed him. Could not speak Norwegian—had been very sea-sick—was going through Norway—thought the fall had injured his head—felt very unwell, and looked it.

We get a cup of tea at 7·30. At eight o’clock, stewards make their appearance, and bustle about. The morning began to clear; passengers assemble at breakfast in larger numbers and in better spirits. A fine day is expected.

Many inquiries are made after our gipsies and donkeys. The gipsies were still unwell. Esmeralda managed some beefsteak and tea as she lay on deck. The gipsies had our best encouragement.

The barrister and the officer recovered from the Roman fever (a member of the Naval and Military Club) were both charmed with our gipsies’ names.

The officer especially so, and gave occasionally, the following recitation:—

“Upon a time it came to passThat these two brothers die did;They laid Tobias on his back,And Ezekiel by his side did.”

This quotation from a popular song, was considered a very apt illustration, of the probable fate, of our two gipsies, Noah and Zacharia, before the expedition was ended.

The Birmingham bagman, was soon seen hovering on the narrow bridge, leading to the forecastle above the waist of the steamer. At times, he leaned upon the handrail, and would look down upon the deck below, where our gipsies reclined. Sometimes after gazing at them, he made some observation to Esmeralda. Occasionally he came to us, and was exceedingly anxious about the donkeys.

So frequently did he come, and so many were his suggestions, that at last we began to fear, we should be in the same melancholy position, as Sinbad the Sailor, with the Old Man of the Sea.

The passengers seemed most pleased with the name of Esmeralda. The portly English gentleman said it was a gipsy queen’s name. The barrister often hummed an airfrom a favourite opera called “Esmeralda,” which had been brought out in London that very season.

The Chevalier was in excellent spirits at dinner. He had been engaged upon a diplomatic mission to England. We discovered ourselves as Freemasons, which led to our taking champagne together at dinner.

A young Norwegian, who spoke English exceedingly well, and his English wife, sat near us.

The day had gradually become bright and lovely. The steamer approached Christiansand. In the afternoon, we sighted its forts. The town looked smiling, as if to welcome us from the ocean. Several passengers were going on shore: the portly gentleman, the officer who had had the Roman fever, the Chevalier, and ourselves and gipsies descended into a boat. The fare when we landed was 16 skillings. The officer was going to some place near Lyngdal. We left him at the Custom House, passing his baggage. As he wished ourselves, and gipsies good-bye, his last words were, “Remember, I must have a copy of your book.” We hope before this, he has recovered, and is able to read these pages.

The houses of Christiansand are of wood; the streets are broad, the pavement, when not Macadamized, often rough and uneven. The town had wonderfully improved since our last visit.

Christiansand recalled to mind the time, when a friend and ourself, once landed there from England. We had sailed in a small fishing-smack, commanded by Captain Dixon. It was our first visit to Norway. We stayed at the Scandinavian Hotel, kept by Madame Lemcou. The hotel was very like a private house. No one spoke English. Well, we remember our difficulties, and thekind old inhabitant, who called upon us. He had no doubt come to place his knowledge of the country at our service. His stock of English consisted of “your most humble obedient servant,” which he often repeated. Our knowledge of Norwegian, at that time was in comparison, scarcely more extensive, so that our interview, ended much as it began.

We rambled with our gipsies through the town. It was a sunny evening. The inhabitants were also enjoying their evening promenade. Although warm, and pleasant, scarcely any of the windows of the houses, were opened for ventilation. The sides of the wooden houses were often covered with weather-boards, and painted. Esmeralda, with her dark raven hair, and eyes; Noah, with his tall figure; Zacharia decorated with a flaming yellow “dicklo” (gipsy handkerchief) flaunting round his neck in gipsy fashion, were severally scanned by curious observers as we passed. Noah heard one person say in English, “How healthy-looking they are!” We could not help being amused, at the puzzled expression of some, not excepting several young soldiers we met.

We walked round the cathedral, which was not improved by whitewash, and possessed no chef d’œuvre of sculptured ornament, to make us linger in our contemplation.

The old Runic stone in the churchyard of Oddernœs Church, we had before visited. Noah—whose ideas no doubt connected most views with sites for a camp—pointed out one highly suitable on the bank of the Torrisdals Elv. Time wore away, and we at length made our way quickly down to the boats, waiting at the rough wooden piers of the harbour.

We had a boat to ourselves. Esmeralda sat with us at the stern—her two brothers sat on the seat opposite. As the boatman rowed us from the shore, we thought how strangely, we wander through the world, as we follow the high road of life. When we reached theAlbionsteamer, many passengers were looking over the side of the vessel. We had no small change, when we went on shore, but the portly gentleman kindly lent us the necessary amount. On our return it was necessary to pay the boatman. We gave him the smallest change we had, which was a quarter of a dollar, and then ascended the gangway with our gipsies.

The Birmingham bagman had been watching us. “Ah!” said he, coming up, as we stepped on deck, “why you gave the man too much. I saw you give a large piece of silver to him. He pulled off his hat to you. You spoil them.” We explained that we had no change. “But,” said he, in a state of excitement, “you spoil them.” We trusted it would do the boatman good, and left him, to communicate his ideas of pecuniary compensation, to some one else.

This he appears to have done; for very shortly after the Chevalier coming on board, grossly infringed, the bagman’s scale of payment, and he came in for another storm of indignant remonstrance.

Monsieur le Chevalier, whose quiet humour nothing could disturb, asked the excited bagman, why he did not give the boatman the English half-crown he wanted to get rid of? “Can you give me any discount?” shouted the bagman, infuriated. The Chevalier calmly answered, “Your appearance shows me, that you can give me nothing to discount upon.” The bagman rushedoff, and we found him some short time after, when we went into our cabin, lying in his berth.

“I have had a row with that Dutchman,” said he, beginning to unfold his melancholy history, when we advised him to mind his own affairs, and went on deck.

Two gentlemen came on board at Christiansand, whom we at once noted as salmon fishermen. Both were handsome, though slightly past the meridian of life. One was taller than his companion, with a complexion, darkly bronzed in the summer’s sun, and by exposure to the fresh air. He had been on board a very few minutes, when we entered into conversation. His companion, and himself, had been at Mandal, salmon-fishing, but the weather was hot, and the water low, and clear. The largest salmon they had taken was 18lbs. My expedition incidentally became partly known in conversation. He seemed much interested. We showed him our donkeys, and he seemed to think our expedition a heavy cost. Very shortly after, when we had parted, our gipsies came on the after-deck, and said a gentleman in a velvet jacket had sent for them. We told them to return, and soon after saw Mr. T. interrogating Noah on the fore-deck. We were rather annoyed at the time, that any one should send for our people and question them as to who their master was, and his name. When we saw Noah afterwards, he said, “I told him nothing, sir. He asked your name, and I told him ‘Harper.’” Afterwards Mr. T. again joined us on deck, with the portly gentleman and the barrister in search of health. Mr. T. was afraid of sleeping on the ground, and having rheumatism. He mentioned an American method—a kind of frame which kept you completely off the ground,and folded into a small compass. We described our tent, and many questions were asked about our method of camping, which we explained. Most seemed very anxious to know, how we became acquainted with our gipsies. But we merely said that our interest in the tent-dwelling races, had thrown us in contact with them. The portly gentleman informed us that a species of viper existed in Norway, but the snakes were not numerous. He said he was once in the Thelemarken17district, and having put up the horses in a shed, he lay down on the turf. Some time afterwards when he got up, a small viper, was found clinging to his coat, which, falling off, the peasants cut it into pieces and burnt each piece separately, since they have an idea that if the pieces get together, the viper can piece itself again. When he afterwards got into his carriole to continue his journey, he felt a shivering sensation between his shoulders most of the day. Mr. T. asked a variety of questions, about our commissariat, and what we were taking, and seemed much interested in the expedition. We gave him the best information we could. He was one of the best types of an Englishman we met with in Norway.

The passengers began to recover. The steamer had been nearly two days at sea. The evening was beautiful. We had been charmed with the rocks tinged with reddish hue, rising in picturesque outline, from the Topdals Fjord. The fringed pine woods of the shore, were mirrored upon the almost motionless water, of the Norwegian frith.

The passengers were now more numerous at tea. Some ladies joined us. All were looking forward to their arrival the next morning at Christiania.

It was delicious as we strolled on deck. What a pleasant freedom there is upon the sea, away from the hum, and noise, of the great human struggle, of many minds, in populous cities! What bitterness and strife, misery and evil, we had left far behind us!

As we paced the deck in the delightful contemplation, of a summer’s eve at sea, we could not help noticing, Mr. C. and his wife, with the Tyrolese hat and feather. They were seated side by side on the deck, with their backs towards us. In silence, they appeared lost in happy contemplation. The surrounding light of circumstances seemed to say, “We are one!” How pleasurable should be the feelings of two hearts firmly united, holding, as it were, silent communion with each other. By a few touches of the pencil, in our small note-book, we caught their outline. We felt we were in the hallowed precincts of true love, and retired to another part of the vessel, lest we should disturb their happy dream.

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