By ROBERT MACGREGOR.

Though it appears to be impossible to fix on the time when skating first took root in this country, there can be no doubt that it was introduced to us from more northern climates, where it originated more from the necessities of the inhabitants than as a pastime. When snow covered their land, and ice bound up their rivers, imperious necessity would soon suggest to the Scands or the Germans some ready means of winter locomotion. This first took the form of snow-shoes, with two long runners of wood, like those still used by the inhabitants of the northerly parts of Norway and Sweden in their journeys over the immense snowfields.

When used on ice, one runner would soon have been found more convenient than the widely-separated two, and harder materials used than wood; first bone was substituted; then it, in turn, gave place to iron; and thus the present form of skate was developed in the North at a period set down by Scandinavian archÆologists as about A. D. 200.

Frequent allusions occur in the old Northern poetry which prove that proficiency in skating was one of the most highly esteemed accomplishments of the Northern heroes. One of them, named Kolson, boasts that he is master of nine accomplishments, skating being one; while the hero Harold bitterly complains that though he could fight, ride, swim, glide along the ice on skates, dart the lance, and row, “yet a Russian maid disdains me.”

Specimens of old bone skates are occasionally dug up in fenny parts of the country. There are some in the British Museum, in the Museum of the Scottish Antiquaries, and probably in other collections. There seems to be good evidence that even in London the primitive bone skate was not entirely superseded by implements of steel until the latter part of last century.

Mr. Roach Smith, F.S.A., describing one found about 1839, says that “it is formed of the bone of some animal, made smooth on one side, with a hole at one extremity for a cord to fasten it to the shoe. At the other end a hole is also drilled horizontally to the depth of three inches, which might have received a plug, with another cord to secure it more effectually.”

There is hardly a greater difference between these old bone skates and the “acmÉs” and club skates of to-day, than there is between the skating of the middle ages and the artistic and graceful movements of good performers of to-day. Indeed, skating as a fine art is entirely a thing of modern growth. So little thought of was the exercise that up to the Restoration days it appears to have been an amusement confined chiefly to the lower classes, among whom it never reached any very high pitch of art. “It was looked upon,” says a writer in the Saturday Review in 1865, “much with the same view that the boys on the Serpentine even now seem to adopt, as an accomplishment, the acmÉ of which was reached when the performer could succeed in running along quickly on his skates and finishing off with a long and triumphant slide on two feet in a straight line forward. A gentleman would probably then have no more thought of trying to execute different figures on the ice than he would at the present day of dancing in a drawing-room on the tips of his toes.”

During all this time, when skating was struggling into notice in Britain, in its birth-place it continued to be cultivated as the one great winter amusement. In Holland, too, where it is looked upon less as a pastime than a necessity, nothing has so frequently struck travelers as the wonderful change the advent of ice brings about on the bearing of the inhabitants. “Heavy, massive, stiff creatures during the rest of the year,” says Pilati, in his “Letters on Holland,” “become suddenly active, ready and agile, as soon as the canals are frozen,” and they are able to glide along the frozen surface with the speed and endurance for which their skating has been so long renowned, though these very qualities are bought at the expense of the elegance and grace we nowadays look for in the accomplished skater. Thomson thus graphically describes the enlivening effects of frost on the Dutch:

Though the poet of the “Seasons” speaks of Russia here, it is curious to note that skating is not a national amusement of the Russians, but is entirely of foreign and quite recent introduction. It is quite unknown in the interior, and no Russian—except a few who have picked up the art in St. Petersburg—ever thinks of availing himself of the many pieces of water annually frozen hard in so cold a country.

Perhaps it is in Friesland that the skate is most especially a necessary of life. What stilts are to the peasant of the Landes, skates are to the Frisian. The watercourses of the summer are his highways when winter sets in. “He goes to market on skates; he goes to church on skates,” we are told; “he goes love-making on skates.” Indeed, it may be doubted if this province could be inhabited if the art of skating were unknown, for without it the inhabitants would be confined to home for several months of each year. Frisians of both sexes actually skate more than they walk, says M. Depping; no sooner is an infant able to stand upright than the irons are fastened on his feet; his parents lead him on to the ice, and teach him how to move along. At six years most of the young skaters have attained great proficiency, but in Frisian opinion even the best performers improve up to thirty.

Here, as elsewhere in Holland, ice races are of frequent occurrence during the winter. “The races on the ice,” says Pilati, “are the carnivals of the Dutch: they are their fÊtes, their operas, their dissipations;” naturally, therefore, the people manifest the greatest interest in them; skate long distances to be present, and cherish the names of distinguished winners in a way we should never expect from such an unemotional people as the Hollanders appear when the ice is gone and when most travelers see them.

The women have races of their own; but most interesting of all the contests are those in which the sturdy dames, whom their own painters delight in depicting as gliding along to market with baskets on their heads and knitting-needles in their busy fingers, are matched against the best of the other sex. Though, as a rule, these “Atalantas of the North” excel the men rather in beauty of style than in speed, yet the prize often enough goes to one of them.

Frequently on the Continent skates have proved themselves excellent engines of war, both in actual fighting—as when a Dutch army on skates once repulsed a force of Frenchmen on the Scheldt—and as a rapid means of communication. During the winter of 1806, Napoleon, after the battle of Jena, wished to send an order with the utmost dispatch, to Marshal Mortier, directing him to make himself master, without delay, of the Hanseatic towns. The officer charged with this order found himself at the mouth of the Elbe at a point where it was seven and a half miles from bank to bank. To cross in a boat was impossible, as the river was coated with a surface of newly-frozen ice; to get over by a bridge would necessitate a detour of more than twenty miles. The officer, knowing how precious time was, determined to skate over the thin ice; and though it was too weak to bear a man walking, he skimmed along so rapidly that he got across in safety, gaining great honor for the ingenuity and boldness that enabled him to deliver his despatch six hours sooner than he possibly could have done by the ordinary route.

In Holland, regiments have regular parades on the ice; but Norway is probably the only country where it has been considered necessary to embody a special corps of skaters. In this regiment, “the men are furnished,” says Mr. Russell, in his translation of Guillaume Depping’s book, “with the skates in ordinary use in the North, that fixed on the right foot being somewhat longer than that on the left. Furnished with these, the soldiers descend steep slopes with incredible rapidity, re-ascend them as quickly, cross rivers and lakes, and halt at the slightest signal, even while moving at the highest speed.”

Skating has had many enthusiastic votaries, but probably none more so than the two illustrious names that continental skaters are so proud to reckon in their guild.

Klopstock, even in his old age, was so ardent a lover of it that, after skimming over the ice of Altona for hours, “to call back that warmth of blood which age and inactivity had chilled,” he retired to his study and wrote fiery lyrics in its praise. His friend and great successor, Goethe, took to skating under peculiar circumstances. He sought relief in violent exercise from embittered memories of a broken-off love affair. He tried in vain riding and long journeys on foot; at length he found relief when he went to the ice and learned to skate, an exercise of which he was devotedly fond to the last. “It is with good reason,” he writes, “that Klopstock has praised this employment of our physical powers which brings us in contact with the happy activity of childhood, which urges youth to exert all its suppleness and agility, and which tends to drive away the inertia of age. We seem, when skating, to lose entirely any consciousness of the most serious objects that claim our attention. It was while abandoning myself to these aimless movements that the most noble aspirations, which had too long lain dormant within me, were reawakened; and I owe to these hours, which seemed lost, the most rapid and successful development of my poetical projects.”

That skating has been in certain circumstances something more than mere elegant accomplishment, is well illustrated by two anecdotes, told by the author of some entertaining “Reminiscences of Quebec,” of two settlers in the far West, who saved their lives by the aid of their skates. In one case the backwoodsman had been captured by Indians, who intended soon after to torture him to death. Among his baggage there happened to be a pair of skates, and the Indians’ curiosity was so excited that their captive was told to explain their use. He led his captors to the edge of a wide lake, where the smooth ice stretched away as far as the eye could see, and put on the skates. Exciting the laughter of the Indians by tumbling about in a clumsy manner, he gradually increased his distance from the shore, till he at length contrived to get a hundred yards from them without arousing their suspicion, when he skated away as fast as he could, and finally escaped.

“The other settler is said to have been skating alone one moonlight night, and, while contemplating the reflection of the firmament in the clear ice, and the vast dark mass of forest surrounding the lake and stretching away in the background, he suddenly discovered, to his horror, that the adjacent bank was lined with a pack of wolves. He at once ‘made tracks’ for home, followed by these animals; but the skater kept ahead, and one by one the pack tailed off; two or three of the foremost, however, kept up the chase, but when they attempted to close with the skater, by adroitly turning aside, he allowed them to pass him. And after a few unsuccessful and vicious attempts on the part of the wolves, he succeeded in reaching his log hut in safety.”