“Drei zigeuner fand ich einmalLiegen an einer Weide,Als mein Fuhrwerk mit müder QualSchlick durch sandige Haide.Hielt der eine für sich alleinIn der Handen die Fiedel,Spielte umglüht vom Abendschein,Sich ein feuriges Liedel.”Lenau.
“Drei zigeuner fand ich einmalLiegen an einer Weide,Als mein Fuhrwerk mit müder QualSchlick durch sandige Haide.
Hielt der eine für sich alleinIn der Handen die Fiedel,Spielte umglüht vom Abendschein,Sich ein feuriges Liedel.”Lenau.
“Once three gipsies did I behold;In a meadow they lay,As my carriage heavily rolledOver the sandy way.“In his hands, as he sat alone,Fiddle and bow held one,Playing an air with fiery tone,In the glow of the evening sun.”Alfred Baskerville.
“Once three gipsies did I behold;In a meadow they lay,As my carriage heavily rolledOver the sandy way.
“In his hands, as he sat alone,Fiddle and bow held one,Playing an air with fiery tone,In the glow of the evening sun.”Alfred Baskerville.
COLONEL SINCLAIR—QVAM CHURCH—DEATH OF SINCLAIR—MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE—THE HIGHFLYER—THE HEDALS—ROMANTIC LEGEND—ANTIQUE MANSION—THE KRINGELEN—KIND RECEPTION—WARM WELCOME—THE BROKEN TENT-POLE—THE REINDEER HUNTER—THE RUDANE FJELDE—GIPSY-LOOKING WOMAN—MORE FISH—CHIROMANCY—ESMERALDA’S FORTUNE—THE HANDSOME CAPTAIN—HIS SPORTING ADVENTURE—ESMERALDA’S GIFT—OUR SOIRÉE DANSANTE—GIPSIES’ GLEE.
The next morning was fine, but dull. We were up at half-past 1 o’clock, and decided to try the artificialminnow. The trout we had seen the day previous served up for the captain’s dinner no doubt occasioned the resolution.
The Logan was close at hand. Esmeralda’s soup was warmed up for frokost. Our things were afterwards all carried down into the main road. Noah went for the donkeys to load them, and we fished along the Logan to Qvam. How still and quiet all appeared at Storklevestad, Viig, and Qvam! Not a soul stirring! As we fished towards Qvam, we saw inscribed on a large stone on the road side near the river—Her blev Skotternes anfœrerGeorge SinclairBegraven efteratHan var faldenved Kringelen den26 August,1812.48
Our fishing resulted in the loss of our artificial minnow, no sport, and we put up our tackle. The Qvam churchyard on the right of the road was near us. Our party had not come up. Then we strolled round the church which, as usual, was built of wood, with very large porches. Flowers had been placed on one grave. It is here that Col. George Sinclair is buried. In 1812, Col. Sinclair landed on a farm near Veblungsnœs, in Romsdalen, in command of nine hundred Scotch troops. They marched towards Sweden to aid Gustavus Adolphus against Christian IV. King of Denmark.
At a hill called the Kringelen, beyond Qvam, near Solheim, the peasants rolled down large quantities ofrocks on his troops, who were either crushed to death, drowned in the river below, or killed by the peasants who attacked them when in disorder. Only two are said to have survived.
We have never seen any minute particulars of the tragic end of this military expedition. It is said that a young lady, hearing that one of her own sex was with the Scotch, sent her lover for her protection. Unfortunately, as he approached, Mrs. Sinclair mistook his object, and shot him dead.
The other Scotch and Dutch troops, who landed at Thronjhem, reached Stockholm, and helped the Swedish King to conclude advantageous terms of peace. What became of Mrs. Sinclair, we do not know; or where the Scotch soldiers were buried. The colonel seems to have been a bold and daring man. The Norwegian peasants gave their enemy a quiet resting place in the pleasant churchyard of Qvam, and his melancholy history is another illustration of the uncertainty of human hope.
Soon after 6 o’clock Noah, Zachariah, and Esmeralda came up with the donkeys. Noah was limping along very lame. In taking one of the donkeys to be loaded, the animal slipped over a rock and fell across his leg. Noah walked with difficulty, and was very sleepy—in fact, when we had left Qvam, and the sun became warm, we could scarcely keep our eyes open as we pushed on along the road as fast as we could for several miles.
At a turn of the road, some distance from Qvam, we saw a number of men without uniform marching towards us. Zachariah was at first rather frightened. The men advancing took up nearly the whole of the road.
Our friend, Monsieur le Capitaine, was marching atthe head of his men, who were going to their periodical militia training. We were looking out to see which side the road to take, when Monsieur le Capitaine opened out his men right and left, and we passed through their centre, which afforded them ample opportunity of observing our cavalcade.
“Bon jour, Monsieur Smith,” said the Captain; “pleasant journey.”
We also wished him “bon jour,” and with mutual salutations each passed on our different routes.
They were a very fine body of men—an army of such men, properly handled, need not fear any other soldiers on equal terms. Had the opportunity permitted, we should have enjoyed a visit to one of their militia camps.
It was very warm. Zachariah played his violin along the road in advance; Esmeralda and Noah were very sleepy and tired, and we were not disinclined for a halt. For some time we could not meet with a convenient resting-place; at last we came to a delightful valley. There was the open macadamised space on the roadside, with wooden bench considerately placed for the convenience of travellers. The same accommodation might with advantage be adopted in England. Then there was a small space of broken greensward, sloping from the road, where we could light our fire. A large bondegaard below, near the River Logan, gave us the impression of contentment and comfort. It was a charming valley.
As we came up to the wooden seat we observed a curious-looking man, who the gipsies said was some travelling “Highflyer.” The man was reclining on the the open patch of greensward near the seat; his wallet was beside him, and he was smoking his pipe—whoknows? he was probably experiencing more enjoyment than the most wealthy millionaire.
The donkeys were soon unloaded. Noah went down to get some water at the farmhouse, and shortly returned with the “vand” (Nor., water). A woman and a boy brought up some grass for the donkeys, and she afterwards offered us the use of some rough ground above the road for the donkeys to graze in. The offer was accepted, for the herbage was very scanty on the roadside. Our water was soon boiled, and we had tea, bacon, and bread. Taking out the packet of tobacco given up by Noah, we gave some to the Highflyer. It is not surprising that Noah was reluctant to part with it. Printed on the outside of the packet we observed the following—Petum optimum supter solem,De beste Tobac onder de Son;Der beste Toback under solenAf C. Andersen,Lillehammer.
The Highflyer seemed much pleased. The sun was exceedingly warm, and, placing some rugs in the scanty shade of some rocks on the opposite side of the road, Esmeralda fell asleep. The woman brought us some milk, and, finding it impossible to write, we gave way to inclination and indulged in a good sleep. Noah and Zachariah went to the river fishing, and Zachariah caught four not very large trout. Then we woke up and worked at our notes.
A young farmer, a fine young fellow, his wife, and son and daughter, came up. The young farmer had been at our camp near “Storklevstad”; they brought up fresh grass, and were very attentive. The “Hedals” roseabove us, with snow still remaining on the higher ridges.
Not so very far from this point, across the mountains, is the “Ridderspranget” (the Knight’s Leap). Tradition says that a knight of Valders wooed a young lady of Lom. The friends did not favour the lovers’ wish. The knight, at last, mounted on a swift horse, carried the lady off, and, being closely pursued by the friends, jumped a wide chasm, and escaped with the girl of Lom, for whom he had risked so much. The spot, which is between two lakes, still goes by the name of the “Ridderspranget.”
Esmeralda, probably owing to the heat, did not feel well. Before we left, Noah and Zachariah played for the people of the bondegaard, who had been so attentive, several tunes with the violin and tambourine. The Highflyer went towards Qvam.
At 3 o’clock—having presented the good woman with a mark, and the children with three skillings each—as they gave us their kindly wishes, we again continued our way. Noah had added four more trout to our stock, so that we had now eight fish for the evening’s meal. We were all very sleepy, but kept on with much perseverance. Zachariah, who rode on one of the donkeys, fell asleep and his hat fell off, and then he dropped his violin in the road, but both were picked up. After we had passed Dengarden—so we made out the name—Noah was so sleepy that he became a straggler; his legs almost refused to serve him, and we at last lost sight of him at a turn in the road.
A very interesting house on the roadside attracted our attention. We understood the name was Nusamberg; it had the appearance of an old mansion. Though constructedof wood, its massive timbers gave it structural solidity; extensive granaries and outbuildings surrounded the house, and one portion of building was surmounted by a kind of cupola with a large bell. If it had been in England we should have taken it for an old manor house.
Noah did not overtake us, and we went back, expecting that he had fallen asleep on the roadside; at last we saw him in the distance, walking slowly along, with difficulty getting one leg before the other.
As we came in sight of “Breden,” which stands near a lake, our party were at once perceived. A boat pushed off in hot haste across the lake with a number of peasants to see us. When we entered the small village of houses grouped on either side the road, great was the excitement. People ran hastily up to see our donkeys; a pony in a “stolkjœrre,” or light cart, turned restive, and occasioned much confusion. Our donkeys ran against one another, and our things becoming entangled, the packs were nearly pulled to the ground.
At last, when we were clear of the village, Noah and Zachariah were sent to a landhandelri49to buy butter and bread. The young man at the shop had been at our camp at Qvam. They could only get fladbröd and butter.
The steeps of the Kringelen, memorable for the destruction of Col. Sinclair and his soldiers, were passed. The spot had been well selected by the Norwegians. Then we came in sight of Sels. Having risen early, we were all tired and hungry. At this juncture, seeing a woman driving some cows from the road, we asked to camp on some rough broken ground above the house. A quietspot was selected, where, undisturbed by visitors, our tents were pitched. Looking down upon the narrow valley, it was delightful to enjoy the repose of a quiet evening. Few were permitted to come near our tents. Our donkeys had, as usual, their admirers, but they were few and select. The woman brought us a bowl of milk whilst we were at tea.
We were up at seven o’clock next morning. After a quiet breakfast, Zachariah caught four trout in the river. Giving these kind, homely people some music and two marks, our party left Sels in the distance.
The scenery during the morning was very picturesque, and coming to a portion of newly-made road we halted in a recess of broken ground at the bottom of a wooded hill, near a log cottage. One of our gipsies went to the house for water, and the woman kindly offered to boil it, but this we did not require.
As we were taking our lunch we became the subject of much interest to the road men and some boys; to some of the men we gave tobacco. After the meal our gipsies played their music, whilst we lounged, looking at the beautiful scene before us. The road men appeared to enjoy themselves quite as much as we did—they sat on the roadside, smoking their pipes and listening.
It was not long before we wereen route, and being still in sight of the river Noah and Zachariah were sent to fish. Esmeralda and myself made the best of the way with the donkeys towards Laurgaard. Great improvements were being made upon this part of the road; in some places the road was diverted and the distance shortened—sometimes we had to change from the old road to newly made portions, and then back to the oldroad not yet altered. At every place the peasants flocked out to see us. One place we especially remember as being near a wild gorge leading to the mountains from the valley. An old man gave us such a kindly hearty welcome to his land that we presented him with some tobacco.
In passing a narrow part of the old road one of our donkeys ran against the Puru Rawnee, and the baggage becoming entangled my tent pole was broken through. It was very annoying. At last we came in sight of the Laurgaard. A peasant who had walked with us some little distance, and who seemed desirous to aid us as much as possible, was asked if we could find a camping-ground on the other side Laurgaard. He shook his head.
We had just passed some picturesque rocks; the river Logan was on our left, the rocky slopes of the mountain on our right. Our peasant pointed to what appeared to have been an old road, now disused, a short distance above us along the hill side. The old roadway formed an admirable terrace of flat ground for our tents. Our donkeys soon struggled through the bushes and broken rocks to the spot we selected, and were then unloaded. Several peasants appeared at the place, and also a Norwegian officer. Our first care, as the gipsies unloaded our things, was to splice our tent pole, which we did with a flat piece of wood we had founden route, and some waxed string carried with us. Our proceedings were observed with great interest as we pitched our tents. The visitors increased, and we promised to give them some music for dancing after we had finished our tea. Immediately after tea, as the peasants assembled at close of eve, our guitar, violin, tambourine, and castinets brokethe stillness of the Norwegian valley. On this occasion we had two beaux of the village instead of one. The old road being level was well adapted for dancing. There were several peasant girls, whose quiet and modest manners were very pleasing. One beau was a light haired young man who borrowed a friend’s shoes to dance in. The other beau was a slim-slam, away-with-care sort of young fellow, who had the appearance of “un vrai chasseur,” an intrepid reindeer hunter. He was a good-looking fellow, carried hard sinew and muscle, well-proportioned, moderately tall and strongly knit, wiry and active, wore very large capacious trousers, and strong Wellington boots. A hunting knife hung by his side, and a close-fitting shirt and small cap lightly stuck on his head completed his attire. He held himself very erect, and danced in a stiff, jerky, jaunty style. We had the usual complement of children, in many and various kinds of tattered garments. The peasants seemed to enjoy themselves. Esmeralda danced with her brother, and we also took her for partner; but the half-hour is ended, our visitors leave as the rain commences. We had very heavy rain in the night.
Ourself and the gipsies were up at 4 o’clock, and went fishing. The river Logan near our camp was interspersed with pools and shallows, and appeared very likely in appearance for fish. The bridge at Laurgaard is said to be 1000 English feet above the level of the sea. We must confess that Noah and ourself returned without fish to breakfast. Directly the meal was concluded Noah and Zachariah were dispatched to the river again. A fine-looking old man came to see our tent after breakfast. He wore a red cap, and said he was agreat fisherman. We found him full of information. His sæter was on the Rudane Fjeld, where he said there were many reindeer; in summer the weather was beautiful. The old man came often during the day, and we bought some trout from him, and also from several peasant boys, who immediately they caught a fish brought it up to our tents.
In the read below we noticed a curious dark little woman accompanied by a middle-aged man, a tall young woman without shoes or stockings, and two young boys. They carried their effects apparently for sleeping and cooking. Directly they saw the donkeys they came towards our camp. The boys tried to touch our donkeys, but the young woman held them back, and one was smartly cuffed. When the elder woman reached our tents we at first thought she was a gipsy. Her complexion was very dark, and she had black hair; she had pleasing manners, but in person she was very short, with small hands and feet, and a peculiar redness round the eyes, as if from smoke. Esmeralda tried her in Romany, but she could not speak it. She was very probably a Lap. The others of her party seemed to hold her in great respect. She carried a courier bag suspended to a girdle, exactly similar to the one we bought in the Valders, and of which an engraving is given in this book. We gave her some brandy and the man some tobacco, upon which she opened her bag, and in the politest manner possible, offered us two skillings, which we did not accept. Every now and then as she looked at our tents and then at the donkeys grazing near, she smiled and bowed in an ecstasy of pleasure, raising her hands often, saying “Nei, nei!!” in a sweet plaintive voice. Esmeralda asked if she told fortunes,and she said yes. It is probable that she did not understand the question. She offered to sell Esmeralda a ring, but she did not require it. As they left they lingered again near the donkeys. The old lady seemed in raptures with them. One of the boys again made a sudden attempt to touch one, and was dragged away by the younger woman as if his life was in jeopardy.
They at length left and slowly disappeared through the rocks at a turn in the road beyond the camp. Noah and Zachariah caught several fish during the morning. The fish were fried for dinner with the usual accompaniment of tea. We scarcely knew whether we dined early or late, both meals were so much the same. From time to time travellers passing along the road suddenly pulled up when they saw our tents and donkeys, and getting down slowly made their way up to our camp. The donkeys seemed, as usual, to excite a wonderful amount of interest.
We had finished our mid-day’s meal. Noah and Zachariah had gone to the river to fish. Esmeralda and myself were sitting in our tents; the gipsy girl was occasionally rockering Romany whilst we wrote our notes. Then the thought occurred to her that we should tell her fortune.
“Your fortune must be a good one,” said we, laughing.
“Let me see your hand, young woman, and your lines of life.”
We shall never forget Esmeralda. She looked so earnestly as we regarded attentively the lines of her open hand. Then we took her step by step through some scenes of her supposed future. We did not tell all. The rest was reserved for another day. There was a seriouslook on her countenance as we ended, but reader, such secrets should not be revealed—say what we will the hand carries the same language as those thoughtful lines on your face, or the conformation of your head. It is not all who can interpret them. Though we do not believe in chiromancy and ghosts, how many in the world do. We do not say such things are impossible; there are warnings, forebodings, and presentiments at times too strong to be doubted. There are curious facts noted which cast singular light upon these links between two worlds. Instances of spirit travel are given. The open pages of nature reveal strange things. Pliny, Scott, Byron, Johnson, Wesley, and Baxter50, seem to have been imbued with some belief in the supernatural. We know not what it is; we call it superstition. When we express our unbelief, somehow there is often an inward consciousness to belie our words. Surrounded by much that is false, there may be some reality. We halt on the thresholdof indecision. One thing is certain, there is a dark mysterious veil across man’s future in this world. Will it profit him to raise its folds? We think not.
Esmeralda commenced to tell our fortune; we were interested to know what she would say. We cast ourself on the waves of fate. The gipsy girl raised her dark eyes from our hand as she looked us earnestly in the face.
“You are a young gentleman of good connections; many lands you have seen; but, young man, something tells me you be of a wavering disposition.”
We looked up, and a Norwegian peasant stood close by; we had not heard him approach. He was at the entrance of our tents in puzzled contemplation; we lost the remainder of our fortune.
Not very long afterwards, we were sitting in our tent, when Esmeralda, who was looking out, said, a “Boro Rye’s a vellin.” We went out; an English officer was coming to our tents; he was travelling from Throndjhem to Christiania. His name was one of a family renowned in Scottish history. Our visitor was very good-looking, and seemed much interested in our camp. Seeing our tents from the read, he came up to inspect them; a heavy shower of rain coming on, he accepted our shelter, and reclined in our tent with Esmeralda and ourselves. The carriole driver sat at the entrance. Our visitor informed us that a friend and himself had been out with a pony, tent and provisions, upon a fishing expedition, on the Tana. It did not appear that he remained long with his tent, for we understood him that his friend had been unwell and they soon returned. The country of the Tana seemed to please him very much. We gave our visitor some results of our practical experience incamping, as he sat waiting for the rain to cease; in truth, he seemed in no hurry to continue his journey. One of our gipsy songs was presented to him as a souvenir of his visit; then we purchased some trout from the Skydskarl, for one mark, eighteen skillings, very fine ones they were, and had been caught in a lake. Esmeralda presented the captain with a “pinthorn,” used to fasten the blankets of our tents. This present, which he told Esmeralda he should keep, was placed carefully in his pocket-case. In making the expedition to the Tana he had taken out a tent from Throndjhem with a pole in the middle and pieces stretching out from centre.
Our gipsy tents were carefully inspected, then our waterproofs, pockets, bags, and other things. The method of pitching our tents was explained. Before he went he gave us a bottle of brandy which he did not want, and promised to inquire if anything had been heard of our lost caps. His driver, we thought, was under the impression that the captain would take up his residence with us. Noah came up as our visitor was leaving. The rain cleared off, and, wishing us good-by, he was soon driving rapidly towards Christiania. Our visitors continued, successively, until tea time. For our tea, we had more fried trout. An old man brought us a quantity of fladbröd and butter, for which we paid tenpence. Wire was procured at Laurgaard to suspend our boiling-can and kettle over the fire. The loss of our kettle-prop put us to much inconvenience. At eight o’clock, the peasants, notwithstanding the rain, came to our camp for dancing; fortunately, the rain ceased, and they seemed to enjoy themselves very much. One tall, powerful,middle-aged peasant, who came with our visitors, was very fond of dancing. He was, apparently, the respectable owner of a gaard in the neighbourhood. Though very anxious for Esmeralda to dance with him, she would only dance with ourself or Noah. Then he asked us to dance with one of the young peasant girls, probably, a daughter, or some relation, which we did. She was the best dancer; a very good type of the Norwegian peasant-girl, tall, quiet, modest, and good-looking; we found her an excellent partner. Our beaux of the village kept up the dancing and the gipsies their music. “Lend me your shoes” must have put his friend to some expense for repairs, and “Slim-slam,” the reindeer-hunter, nobly did his duty. We were almost bewildered at times. It was hard work to control the exuberant spirits of our gipsies. The amount of Romany chaff was something extraordinary. Fortunately, our visitors did not understand it, nor do we think the gipsies understood much of it themselves. Their gaiety knew no bounds. Esmeralda once laughed loud enough to frighten the reindeer from the Rudane Fjeld. She had more than one severe doing, as she called it, during the evening.
No lust of wealth, nor scent of distant war,Nor wisdom’s glory lures them on afar;’Tis not for these the children of the nightHave burst at once on realms of life and light;’Tis the dread curse—behind them and before—That goads them on till time shall be no more;They claim no thrones—they only ask to shareThe common liberty of earth and air—Ask but for room to wander on alone,Amid earth’s tribes, unnoticed and unknown.
No lust of wealth, nor scent of distant war,Nor wisdom’s glory lures them on afar;’Tis not for these the children of the nightHave burst at once on realms of life and light;’Tis the dread curse—behind them and before—That goads them on till time shall be no more;They claim no thrones—they only ask to shareThe common liberty of earth and air—Ask but for room to wander on alone,Amid earth’s tribes, unnoticed and unknown.
Dean Stanley’sOxford Prize Poem, The Gipsies.
GIPSIES’ AFFECTION—LAURGAARD ADIEU—BEAUTIFUL GORGES—ONWARD EVER—ESMERALDA’S IRISH SONG—DOVRE—FRIENDLY TRAVELLERS—THE KRAMBOD—THE HERR TOFTE—KING’S VISIT—OUR NIGHT CAMP—NIGHT DISTURBANCE—KINDNESS TO ANIMALS—OUR BEAUTIFUL BOUQUET—SNEHÆTTEN FJELD—DOMBAAS—COMFORTABLE SITUATION—WILD SCENERY—OPPORTUNE VISIT—ILLUSORY HOPE.
More than once we were half-inclined to tie a loose piece of rock to our gipsies’ necks and throw them into the Logan; still, we had promised to bring them back, dead or alive, to their parents. Gipsies, whatever their faults may be, have boundless affection for their offspring, perhaps too much so. A promise is a promise; we kept ours. Our music ceased in the valley of Laurgaard, and we wished our visitors all good-by. Many lingered by the donkeys as we retired to our tent, and watched the picturesque valley before us. The delightful stillness seemed to give to our musings a charm and noveltyonly experienced in tent life. Then we heard the sound of merry voices in the road below; a children’s game; the peasant boys united to keep the girls from coming up the bank to the road. Sometimes there were sharp and vigorous contests, and the girls, for a time, had almost taken the road by storm. Here and there we saw single-handed encounters; then several girls, who had maintained the struggle, would be pushed down, and rolled over the bank pell-mell on one another. Now and then boys would be dragged from the road and swung in a heap on the green sward. To whom the victory, we know not; exposure to the open air predisposes to sleep. What a deep and refreshing sleep was ours when all was still. In the early morning, within view of Laurgaard and its bridge, the tents of the wanderers, with three donkeys browsing near, might be seen on the hill side.
We were late the next day, for we did not rise before seven o’clock. At eight o’clock, we had a good breakfast of trout; they were excellent. The old fisherman with red cap came to see us again, and gave us some reindeer flesh; we made him a present of some fishing-flies.
Striking camp, with a hearty farewell to those peasants who came as we were leaving, we were againen route. Esmeralda, Noah, and Zachariah were full of spirits, as we entered the beautiful wild gorge beyond Laurgaard. A man from a sæter in the mountains followed us for some short distance, and we saw him afterwards sitting on an eminence, watching us as we toiled up the steep ascent of the romantic glen.
At Romungaard, near Laurgaard, Colonel Sinclair stayed the night previous to his death at the Kringelen.The road also branches off from Laurgaard to Vaage. On either side the mountain slopes were thickly wooded with Scotch fir, interspersed with birch. We had a long ascent from Laurgaard, but the scenery amply repaid us for our toil.51The river foamed in the rocks below, and at one place Zachariah tried his fly, but without success. The Haalangen Fjeld, and the Rusten Fjeld bounded our route on either side. We met several carrioles, and some peasants followed us. At last, we came to a small wood of alder bushes, open to the road. On the opposite side the valley we noticed a very large house. The donkeys were no sooner unloaded, than a tall young man and several peasants came to us. It is not pleasant to have visitors pressing round when you are preparing for your bivouac meal. Explaining that if they would leave us for half-an-hour we would give them some music they at once left. Our mid-day’s meal, consisting of fish, was scarcely finished when our visitors returned. The tall young man was a very intelligent fellow. The peasant who had introduced us to our partner the evening before was there. We sang our gipsy song with the guitar; Zachariah and Noah played for them; and one of our visitors also played some Norwegian airs. The order was at length given to load; Noah did so, with a considerable amount of chaff with his brother and sister. All being ready, we bade our visitors adieu, who seemed disappointed we were not going to camp there for the night.
The valley now became more open, and we began to descend towards “Dovre.” The usual number of peasants came at various points on the road to see us; sometimes Zachariah played his violin, sometimes Esmeralda sang. One song was an Irish song; it is a curious specimen of song lore. Esmeralda would sometimes dance as she sang the words of the song; we have never met with it before, and therefore give the words. The song and the dance, and air, by the gipsy girl, with all the accessories of pine forest, rising mountains, and a wilderness of interesting scenery, was very effective.
“Shula gang shaugh gig a magala,I’ll set me down on yonders hill,And there I’ll cry my fill;And every tear shall turn a mill,Shula a gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.Shula gang shaugh gig a magala;I’ll buy me a petticoat, and dye it red,And round this world I’ll beg my bread.The lad I love is far away,Shula gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.Shul, shul gang along with me,Gang along with me, I’ll gang along with you;I’ll buy you a petticoat, and dye it in the blue;Sweet William shall kiss you in the rue,Shula gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.”
“Shula gang shaugh gig a magala,I’ll set me down on yonders hill,And there I’ll cry my fill;And every tear shall turn a mill,Shula a gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.
Shula gang shaugh gig a magala;I’ll buy me a petticoat, and dye it red,And round this world I’ll beg my bread.The lad I love is far away,Shula gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.
Shul, shul gang along with me,Gang along with me, I’ll gang along with you;I’ll buy you a petticoat, and dye it in the blue;Sweet William shall kiss you in the rue,Shula gang shaugh gig a magalaTo my Uskadina slawn slawn.”
We passed “Brœndhaugen,” having the Jetta Fjeld on our left and St. Kaven and Vesle Fjeld on our right. Two very civil peasants at length joined our party. Theclouds seemed very wild and dark over the mountains of the Dovre Fjeld. At length we crossed a bridge near Dovre. The loose blocks of water-washed stones on our road towards the bridge added to the wildness of the evening scene. After some failures, we made the men understand that we wanted to find a shop to buy bread. When we had passed the bridge a lame boy came to solicit alms, and we gave him two shillings. As we approached the village of Dovre a close carriage drove up, and the donkeys were halted for it to pass. The traveller also pulled up and began leisurely to inspect the donkeys through the carriage window. Our time was pressing. Noah was indignant that we should be expected to wait to satisfy the curiosity of every traveller. If they had been ladies the case might have been different, but now our party moved on without delay.
The road we had followed during the day was at one time as high as 1800 feet above the level of the sea. Now we had descended to about 1500 feet. A gentleman drove past in his four-wheeled carriage, having apparently some of his family with him. Stopping his carriage, he seemed much interested with our party. Some hay was given to the donkeys from the stock he had for his own use. There was something so friendly in his manner, that if he had wished to gaze on the donkeys all night they would probably have remained where they were. Comfortable houses were scattered here and there, and we noticed posts and rails set up in the fields, which seemed to us to have no sort of use as fences. At first we thought they must be somehow connected with the winter’s snows, as drift barriers, butwe afterwards found that the grass when cut is placed on them to dry, and in many places we observed the same method of making hay.
The village landhandelri, or shop, stood near the church. Noah was sent with money to buy bread, whilst we went down a short steep descent of the road beyond the churchyard and halted. In a very short time a number of boys and children collected around us; a dog began to bark at the donkeys, and a man immediately hit the dog and took him away. We afterwards gave the man some tobacco. We could not help remarking the kind and orderly conduct of the peasant children.
The church, of wood, is roofed with large slates surmounted by a steeple painted green. Though not in accordance with our idea of architectural taste, it was immeasurably superior to the green pagoda we once saw on the top of the old church of Guérande, in Brittany. Noah was very successful, and bought nineteen loves of bread for three marks nine skillings. As we left Dovre, Zachariah was sent back for eggs, and he joined us soon after with twenty-one eggs in a handkerchief, for which he had given one mark nineteen skillings.
Our way continued along a very pleasant road to Toftemoen. A number of peasant boys followed us, who were, no doubt, anxious to see us camp. The station of Toftemoen stands from the road, with a large open space before it. A great number of Norwegian ponies were loose near the station. The house seems very comfortable, with ample accommodation. It is the residence of Herr Tofte, a descendant of Harold Haarfager (the Fair-haired). Harold Haarfager died in 933, and was succeeded by his son, Hako the Good, so that Herr Toftehas a splendid and royal ancestry. It is stated they never marry out of their own family.
In Mr. Bennett’s hand-book it is noted that the king dined here on his way to be crowned at Throndjhem, in 1860, and Herr Tofte had sufficient silver plate for the use of his Majesty and all his retinue.
A traveller accosted us near the station, who was probably one of the passengers of the close carriage we had seen near Dovre. He seemed anxious to know how far we were going. No time was to be lost, for it was eight o’clock. We passed along the sandy road by a piece of rough broken ground, and then all the peasant boys left us when they found we did not camp there. At last, descending a short declivity of the road, we came to some open greensward lying between the road and the river. A narrow patch of turf with a stream running through it. On the opposite side the road a thick wood, inclosed by a fence, made an admirable shelter; a quiet retired place between two hillocks. As we came to the flat we saw the trace of fires, and at once unloaded and pitched our tents as far from the roadside as possible, and very near to the low river bank. It was a romantic camp-ground.
The view was beautiful—a rocky island in the river formed the foreground, and beyond we gazed upon the mountains of the Dovre Fjeld. The day’s toil was soon forgotten as the fire burnt brightly and night cast its dark shadows on our lonely camp. Our eggs were broken one by one into a bowl. If stale, they were consigned to the river; if fresh, to the frying-pan. About seventeen out of twenty-one remained for the omelette, which with bread formed our evening’s meal.
A jolly, pleasant old man came up whilst we were camping, and taking a dram of brandy bowed and retired. Then the donkeys strayed and a tall peasant came and helped Zachariah to search for them. The donkeys were found up a lane, at some distance from our camp, and Zachariah asked the man to ride one of them back, but the peasant shrunk from it with alarm, and said something which probably meant, “Not if I know it.” Zachariah mounted on one of the donkeys, drove the other two before him at racing speed, whilst the peasant followed almost dead with laughter. Zachariah informed us some carriers were halted for the night on the road-side, at a short distance from our camp. The name of the place, as far as we could make out, was Losere. We were left undisturbed, and in the quiet enjoyment of our camp fire, till we retired to rest.
On the top of the short road ascent, near our camp, a large gate led from the road towards a house above. Some traffic seemed to be going on towards this place. About four o’clock in the morning we heard a heavy tramp of horses’ feet, apparently close to our tent. Then there was the sound of a man’s voice—pūr-r-r-r! pūr-r-r-r. It was evident that the animal fought shy of our tent or the donkeys. We called to Noah, but beyond a heavy snort or two we had no response. We went out twice; the second time we saw a man with a pony going up the opposite ascent. His pony still fought very shy of one of the donkeys grazing near the road. About seven o’clock, when we were getting ready for breakfast, we saw a boy driving a load of wood towards the gate. The pony just as he came to the gate, seeing our tent below,turned suddenly round. We struck our tent, and going up found the boy with the wood fastened on a low, light Norwegian wood-carriage, overturned in a ditch. With Noah’s assistance the pony, timber, and carriage passed without difficulty through the gate, and we gave the boy four skillings, which seemed to astonish him.
In Norway we particularly noticed the temperate manner with which drivers manage their horses. All is patient kindness. The animals are in consequence docile to a degree. Beyond the quiet pūr-r-r-r, and a shake of the reins, nothing is heard; no coarse expletives, no brutality of treatment, such as we have occasionally witnessed in our own country, unworthy the Christian and the man. In England, necessity founded a society, and passed a stringent Act of Parliament, for the protection of dumb animals, &c., but in Norway it is unnecessary.52
A few peasants came up as we were loading our donkeys, and the gipsies gave them some music before we continued our journey. The soil now became very sandy, and the ground below the road jutted out into large promontories towards the river’s bank.
We were joined by a travelling shoemaker and his companion, who evinced much curiosity about the boots worn by our party. The route now ascended far above the river Logan, and the view became very wild. In some Scotch firs Noah and Zachariah and the shoemaker saw a squirrel, which had a narrow chance for its life; but to our satisfaction escaped. The wild flowers werebeautiful. Esmeralda plucked them as we went along, and, as usual, presented the Rye with a handsome bouquet. The shoemaker and his friend left us at some bondegaard, and we soon after reachedDombaas. This is apparently named asLiestation in an early edition of Murray. The Dombaas Post Station is a short distance from the junction of the Romsdal and Throndjhem routes. The road to Romsdalen branches off to the left, and that toThrondjhemto the right. Dombaas appears to be an excellent station. We, of course, cannot give our actual experience; but we have no doubt most excellent accommodation would be found there. We halted in some open ground of the extensive forest on the opposite side the road to the station. What a ravishing scene met our view, as we sat down on the mossy turf, whilst the gipsies made preparations for dinner. What a wilderness of pine forest! On our right, the road we had just turned from continued over the Dovre Fjeld to Throndjhem. Not far from us, on the left of the road to Thronjhem, is the Snehœtten Fjeld, 7714 English feet above the level of the sea. The ascent to this mountain is gradual, and its peaked summit is only 3500 feet. Some few people came to see our donkeys; but they did not disturb us whilst we were preparing and taking our mid-day’s meal. Our meal consisted of fried bacon, one fish Zacharia had caught, and bread and tea. A very intelligent, pleasant young Norwegian came to us afterwards and spoke English. It is possible that he was the son of the owner of the station. He told us where there was good pasture for the donkeys; but we were going on, and did not intend to camp for the night. Yet we left with regret, for it was a beautiful ground for our tents. Large forestsextended on various sides, with excellent pasture. A young ragged boy, to whom we gave some tobacco and brandy, came and conversed, whilst one, who was probably the owner of the station, stood in the road above, smoking his pipe as he contemplated our party. Whilst we wrote our notes, Noah loaded the donkeys, and he chaffed his brother and sister in a jumble of English, Romany, and a few Norwegian words he had now learnt. Two or three respectably dressed, quiet, well-fed men, who had come to see us, were probably connected with the station. The gipsies played a few tunes, and then we passed through the forest across two wild, brawling, rapid streams; and, ascending the steep road on the side of a picturesque valley, we came to some houses. We were at once followed by several boys; one of whom was very intelligent and spoke some English. Zachariah was mounted on the packs of one of the loaded donkeys. The boys evidently expected us to camp; but at last, after walking some distance, gave up in despair. The road now crossed the side of a mountain, with no inclosures. Below us lay the valley and the river. Finding we should shortly come to more houses and inclosures, we at once decided to camp without delay at the foot of a rocky slope covered with low scrub and bushes. As we were just unloading our donkeys, a man came in sight with an axe in one hand and a piece of wood in the other. The sight of our party soon stopped his progress. He looked as if he thought we were fairies or some such visitants to earth. The axe reminded us that our tent pole was now so broken as to be almost useless. We beckoned him in vain. The peasant had evidently resolved not to venture nearer. Noah and ourself, taking the broken tent pole,went to him and gave him a dram of brandy to screw up his courage. The peasant soon saw what we wanted, and taking the broken pole as a pattern, went off to make a new one.
As the gipsies lighted our fire, they noticed in the valley far below us, at the base of the mountains, a curling smoke, which they thought in the indistinctness of the evening to be a “gipsies’ camp.” Very anxious indeed were we to meet with a camp of Norwegian gipsies. Ever on the look-out—as yet we had been unable to meet with any Romany tents—the meeting of English gipsies with Norwegian zigeuner, and their greeting in Romany, would have been a most interesting study. The route we were travelling was evidently too much populated and frequented for these wanderers. Prœsten Sundt indeed says, “They choose the most devious and least-frequented roads or ways between Stavanger and Aggerhuus, and northwards away to Throndjhem and Finmarken.” Still there was the chance, and we hoped as we travelled northwards we should be fortunate enough to meet some gipsy tribe of dusky wanderers with their tents, horses, trappings, pigs, and baggage. In this instance, after watching for some short time with earnest attention, it was decided by our gipsies that the smoke did not issue from the camp of any of their people.