Dean Stanley’s Oxford 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 novelty only 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 again en 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.51 The 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.

ESMERALDA’S SONG.

We passed “Broendhaugen,” 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. The clouds 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, but we 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 Tofte has 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—pur-r-r-r! pur-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 pur-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 were beautiful. 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 reached Dombaas. This is apparently named as Lie station 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 to Throndjhem to 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 Snehoetten 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 forests extended 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. Proesten 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.