Drama, of “Notre Dame.” By Halliday.

PURCHASES—ZACHARIAH’S TROUBLE—ESMERALDA’S PHOTOGRAPH—THE KIÖD—PRICE OF MEAT—THE YACHTSMEN—THE THREE PEAKS—THE SPIRIT-WORLD—FROST BITES—ULTIMA THULE—ESMERALDA GALVANISED—THE FJORD—HEEN KIRKE—PARELIUS—EIDER DUCKS—BEAUTIFUL BOUQUETS.

Our gipsies had breakfast ready soon after 7 o’clock, and taking Noah with us, we found Mr. L. at Veblungsnoes. With his assistance we obtained from an excellent general shop, the only one of the kind apparently in Veblungsnoes, two bottles of very good port wine, for one dollar two marks twelve skillings, twelve pounds of brown sugar, for one dollar four skillings, or about eight shillings and eight pence English money; some brimstone and treacle for the gipsies, soap, and some small items came to another dollar. The owner of the shop, which contained a variety of almost everything, had a counting-house attached, where he changed for us a ten-pound Bank of England note, into a quantity of small money of the country. We forget his name. All tradesmen should have their name and address printed at the head of their bills, and give one on all occasions, so that chance customers may have some means of reference and recommendation. Noah was heavily weighted; more bread cost two marks four skillings, and some sundries, and gurnet for dinner, made our expenditure nearly another dollar. Mr. L. had read much in English, and, although he had never been in England, conversed with great ease and fluency in the English language. We returned to our camp, to meet Herr Solberg, the photographer.

The day was beautiful, Herr Solberg was ready with his apparatus. The photographer came from Molde; he is a tall, pale, quiet, intelligent man. Esmeralda had put our things ready, so that our toilette was soon made. As to herself, she was resplendent in the blue dress, plaid braid, and silver buttons. Her brothers had very few additions they could make, but Noah contrived to buy at Veblungsnoes a paper front and collar, which gave him immense satisfaction. Zachariah was in a melancholy temper; no one had bought him a churie (gip. shut-knife) at Veblungsnoes. His existence was blurred, his cheerfulness clouded, and his smile was gone.

About 12 o’clock Herr Solberg took his first stereoscopic view. Mr. L., some ladies, and one of our former visitors, a Norwegian captain and his son and children, came to our camp. The stereoscopic view was pronounced perfect. The donkeys were a success, and the wooded hill above our camp came out with the background exceedingly well. Another photograph of ourselves, tents and donkeys, was afterwards made, and also a carte de visite of Esmeralda, standing under a birch-tree, with her tambourine in her hand. On her finger is a silver ring, presented to her by one of our friends, as a memento of Veblungsnoes. As the ladies sat on the grass looking on, we set our musical-box to play near them, and so the day passed until 3 o’clock, when the sun having been too high and powerful for a good single photograph, Herr Solberg left us to have our dinner, and to return again at 4 o’clock. Our gurnet was very good, but exceedingly reduced in substance in boiling. Upon Herr Solberg’s return, he took another successful photograph of our camp, and left. The donkeys are very difficult to take, but by a happy chance they were exceedingly quiet at the right moment. The engraving now given, is taken from Herr Solberg’s photograph of our gipsy camp at Veblungsnoes.

Noah was soon required on duty. Having sufficient time before tea, we went to Veblungsnoes, and bought some sealing-wax and glue, whilst Noah went to a spirit store, kept by an old man, who had all the appearance of a jovial Bacchanalian. Two or three bottles of aquavit, or brÆndeviin, a sort of corn brandy, was bought by Noah. We afterwards imagined the bottles were filled with the dregs of one of the casks, perhaps, the brandy was therefore more potent. Certain impurities floating about did not inspire confidence. It was inferior to that we had purchased from the steward of the steamer at Lillehammer. The brandy was intended for our peasant visitors at camp. We were annoyed, but found they were not very squeamish, and seemed to like it; yet we wished to give them the very best, and were always ready to give the highest price.

Meat, or as it is called in Norwegian, kiÖd, is not very obtainable. No butchers’ shops are to be met with at Veblungsnoes. No joints of meat hanging up for sale. Mr. L. believed that a large ox had been killed for the funeral of a substantial bonde, residing at a large house, on the high-road near Veblungsnoes church, and he would inquire. We had just returned to our camp when we received a letter from Mr. L. and went with the bearer to the bondegaard. They could let us have ten or fifteen pounds of beef, at ten skillings per pound. We went up some steps from the road to the house-door; but the atmosphere was too close for us to remain inside. Going with a man to a door at one end of the house, he entered a kind of cellar, and we were shown the meat in a cask. They kindly sold us ten pounds of the beef, which Noah took away. We paid four marks four skillings, or three shillings and nine pence English money value. Being uncertain when we should have another chance of buying fresh meat, we thought it desirable to save our stores as much as possible.

Visitors were at our tents when we returned for tea. Sounds of voices speaking nautical English met our ear: the skipper of the yacht “Claymore” introduced himself, with one of the yacht’s crew and their Norwegian pilot. The skipper said two or three young English gentlemen were cruising with their yacht, and she was at anchor in the Fjord67 near Veblungsnoes. The yacht had reached Christiansand about the time we reached Christiania. We gave them some brandy, and the skipper seemed quite delighted to see anyone who could talk English. He told us they had an ancient claymore for a figure-head on board, and three dogs and a monkey. On leaving they said we might probably come to see the yacht before she left.

The Norwegian Sunday commences at 5 o’clock on Saturday afternoon. As usual, we determined not to allow any music in the evening, and we heard afterwards, the farmer, who was very scrupulous upon the observance of the Sunday, was much pleased.

When our Visitors from the “Claymore” were gone we were ready for tea. Zachariah was unable to eat any of the fried meat. Our can of water was boiled, and our beef fried, at our camp fire, at the bottom of the grassy knoll, on which our tents were pitched. A clear, winding, narrow brook, shaded by alder and birch bushes, rippled below us; the grass was short, having been newly mown, and the hay was taken away. A fine bold mountain rose before us, with rocky peaks, as we looked from Veblungsnoes. The summer’s sun had not melted all its winter snow. Its three peaks were called the King, Queen, and Bishop. After tea Captain C. came by our tents en route to the telegraph office. All were anxious to hear tidings of the war. Mr. L. coming to our camp soon after, told us the news, and we all walked together to Aak.

The walk from our camp to Aak must have been about two miles. Mr. L. conversed with a young Norwegian gentleman who joined us, and we sauntered along with Captain C. The calm stillness of the Norwegian evening was very refreshing. By some chance our conversation turned upon ghost lore as one of our subjects. Each had our idea. Captain C. related one or two singular instances of undoubted occurrences. Wraiths, it has been said, may be accounted for by the wave of thought in distant manifestation. The body in one place and the spirit in another; voices as sounds seemingly distinct, sometimes heard through the wide distance between two souls inseparable. Before departure from the world, the spirit sometimes manifests itself to some loved friend. The wraith has accomplished its mission, and it is gone for ever. People who dwell with Nature seem peculiarly susceptible to such influences. In the regions of the mightiest works of our Creator’s hand, we find them naturally most prone to such impressions. Gipsies are not without their experiences on such subjects. More than one instance has found a place in our gipsy lore.

We have reached Aak, our discussion on a variety of subjects, ends in our finding ourself in a most comfortable room, hung round by photographs of Norwegian scenery, and seated at a small table, quaffing a glass of sparkling baiersk Öl. The presence of English travellers was evident, from a marked attention to ventilation. A tidy pige, or waiting-girl, with quiet manner, and ready attention, attended to some travellers, who were taking their evening meal, at a long table near us. All was cleanliness and comfort at Aak.

Our stay at Aak was brief. We returned to our tents with Mr. L., who was full of information about his country. Those who are accustomed to our English climate, can scarcely realize the length of a Norwegian winter. It is very cold at Veblungsnoes, from about the middle of September to the middle of March. All that we now saw before us, so pleasant and smiling, would in a short time be covered with a white fleecy mantle of deep snow. Many scarcely venture out from September to March, and the cold winds sometimes produce on the face, not inured to continued exposure, what is called the Rose. It is a pink tinge upon the countenance, which in some is not altogether a blemish. Frost-bites and chilblains are of course the occasional result of so much cold. Frost-bites should be rubbed at once with snow. The oil from reindeer cheese is said to be a cure for frost-bites. Although the cold is intense at times, the atmosphere is dry and not unhealthy. If the Norwegian summer were twice the length, Norway would be a paradise.

The morning was windy, Noah’s tent was almost blown over. Our breakfast consisted of tea and bread and butter. Esmeralda was not well; Zachariah was still afflicted with a churie (gip., shut-knife) monomania. Two days’ inactivity, and extra good living, was evidently plunging our gipsies, into the depths of biliousness. It was in vain we had dosed Zachariah with brimstone and treacle, until he was a qualified inmate for Dotheboys’ Hall, and a fortnight with Wackford Squeers, would have done him an immense amount of good. Noah was always lively. A few hours’ rapid movement would restore all.

With all their waywardness, and restlessness of spirit, we had the elements for rapid action, and a physical energy, with which to push through any obstacle. Veblungsnoes, it was determined, should be our Ultima Thule, and striking our tents on Monday morning, we should seek new scenes in the wild Norwegian fjelds. Still wandering south—still on our homewards route, our little band of hardy nomads, would have to brace themselves to fresh exertion. What a vast expanse of mountain, glen and forest lay before us, which we must traverse, before we again reached the sea.

At half-past nine o’clock Esmeralda was ready to accompany me to Veblungsnoes. She looked well in her blue dress, plaid braid, and silver buttons, and her heavy boots were blacked and shining, specially for the visit. As we entered the avenue of trees all was quiet and repose. A Sunday in England could not have been more calm, and free from busy turmoil and bustle. The town of Veblungsnoes seemed to have a perpetual Sunday, for it was the same on week days; there was nothing dull, or dreary about the place, yet there was nothing to see in it; it possessed an indefinable charm, arising out of its attempt at nothing. We left it as we found it, to be remembered with pleasure.

Esmeralda had been promised to see the telegraphic apparatus. Our word to our gipsies was always relied upon by them; if it was said to them, it was done. Mr. L. was ready to receive us, and the apparatus was explained, and Esmeralda was electrified. With a present of a quantity of strawberries from Mr. L. she departed for our camp, whilst Mr. L. arranged for our departure in a boat to see the “Heen Kirke,” on the Isfjord.

The Isfjord is a fine expanse of water. Our two oarsmen were ready, strong hardy men, chewing tobacco without intermission, and spitting perpetually. Their pallor of countenance may have been produced by immoderate chewing. The yacht, “Claymore,” was resting at anchor; the owners of the craft were enjoying a sporting tour. There is a great enjoyment of independence in a yacht cruise. Norway is admirably adapted for yachting; but our time was limited, and getting the wind, our sail was hoisted, and we soon left Veblungsnoes in the distance. Gentle slopes rise from the margin of the Fjord for a short distance, dominated by lofty steeps and rising hills; here and there small log houses, being the residences of the peasant owners, come into view. The small property round each, is their farm.

The cost of an ordinary sized farm on the shores of the Fjord, would average about 600 to 700 dollars, or about £157. 10s. English money, according to the size of the farm. Few attempts are ever made to give to the Bondegaard, the picturesque appearance of the Swiss cottage. With very little more expense and labour, the Norwegian peasant’s cottage, might be made exceedingly pretty, and ornamental.

The “Heen Kirke” had no unusual attraction in itself; one Norwegian church is so like another. No old monuments to please the antiquarian taste; no mediÆval tombs; no brasses, Norman arches, Saxon doorways, and decorated windows; no corbels, bosses, and grotesque imagery of ancient stone sculpture; no tesselated pavement, and richly ornamented cloisters, dark with age, and dim with poetic light. No peel of bells, and massive tower covered with ivy, resorted to by owls, and jackdaws. No ecclesiastical library of black-lettered books, curiously and substantially bound, in dark and dusty covers, crammed into shelves, and forgotten in some corner of the vestry. The worm-eaten oak chest was wanting also, containing well-thumbed registers and sacramental plate, secured by three large locks, one for the vicar and one for each of the churchwardens. The Norman stone font, with elaborate carving was absent. The crypt and sedilia,68 were not to be found, and a chained Bible we did not see.69 Yet, withal, the people are earnest in their prayer, their ways are those of peace, and their pastors appear to hold the affections of their flock.

We had a beautiful view of the “Kavlee Fjeld” as we returned. Stretching forests of pine extended beyond the head of the Fjord. On our left we saw the once abode of “Parelius,” a wild spot beneath a precipice, near the margin of the Fjord. Parelius was a great linguist. No one appears to have chronicled his linguistic skill, though he learned a living language, which few if any can. Even the Parisien of the Jardin des Tuileries, whose command over birds is wonderful, did not seem to know their language; even Mademoiselle Vanderschmeck, could not rival Parelius, who lived in the solitary Bondegaard, on the shore of the Isfjord. Parelius conversed with birds; he is said to have known their language. On one occasion some peasants asked him, when he was in another parish, away from home, what the crows hard by were saying—“They say,” said Parelius, “that a bear has just killed one of my oxen, and must go home.” He returned to verify his loss. Whilst Parelius was from home one day, an avalanche from the precipice above, destroyed his house. We were told he lived some fifty years ago. Parelius is gone—the house is gone. Whether he was a native of Veblungsnoes we cannot say. No record appears to have been made of this eminent man, some account of his life, scanty though it be, may rescue his name from oblivion.

The fjords of this coast are well stocked with fish, and the islands and rocks with wild fowl. The eider ducks are numerous; their nests are made on the ground, and the down is taken from the nest after it is placed there by the bird. About half-a-pound of down is taken from each nest, which is reduced to a residue of about a quarter-of-a-pound for sale or use; a very small quantity of the down is sufficient to stuff a coverlet; its wonderful lightness and warmth renders it extremely valuable. There is now a law for the protection of the eider duck; they may not be caught or killed from 15th April to 15th August.70

Fiva is said to have the best salmon fishing on the Rauma. We had a fresh wind on the Fjord as we returned. Birch twigs are used as fastenings for the boat sail instead of rope, in fact, the birch twigs, or withes, are substituted for rope in every variety of way. After a pleasant cruise we landed, and left our friend, and reached our camp with an excellent appetite.

Our dinner consisted of soup, meat, and bread and butter. Esmeralda was unwell and could not eat anything. Zachariah was still murmuring about the churie (shut knife) no one had bought for him. He received a lecture; the shadows of his future were forcibly set before him.

After dinner the “Lehnsmoend’s” lady from Aak, and her two daughters came to see the donkeys. A very beautiful bouquet of flowers she brought for our acceptance. Lady Di Beauclerk, in her Journal,71 speaks of the beautiful flowers of Aak. Whilst our visitor and her daughters sat in our tents, we sent for the donkeys, which were much admired. Zachariah was presented with a box of ornaments before they left. So our visitors came and went in succession during the evening, and our first idea of strict seclusion, by camping in private ground, we found an illusory dream.