第22章 LETTER VII(4)

You may be quite sure our dinner went off merrily;the tetanus-afflicted salmon proved excellent,the plover and ptarmigan were done to a turn,the mulligatawny beyond all praise;but,alas!I regret to add,that he--the artist,by whose skill these triumphs had been achieved--his task accomplished,--no longer sustained by the factitious energy resulting from his professional enthusiasm,--at last succumbed,and,retiring to the recesses of his tent,like Psyche in the "Princess,"lay down,"and neither spoke nor stirred."After another game or two of chess,a pleasant chat,a gentle stroll,we also turned in;and for the next eight hours perfect silence reigned throughout our little encampment,except when Wilson's sob-like snores shook to their foundation the canvas walls that sheltered him.

When I awoke--I do not know at what hour,for from this time we kept no account of day or night--the white sunlight was streaming into the tent,and the whole landscape was gleaming and glowing in the beauty of one of the hottest summer-days I ever remember.We breakfasted in our shirt-sleeves,and I was forced to wrap my head in a white handkerchief for fear of the sun.As we were all a little stiff after our ride,I could not resist the temptation of spending the day where we were,and examining more leisurely the wonderful features of the neighbourhood.

Independently of its natural curiosities,Thingvalla was most interesting to me on account of the historical associations connected with it.Here,long ago,at a period when feudal despotism was the only government known throughout Europe,free parliaments used to sit in peace,and regulate the affairs of the young Republic;and to this hour the precincts of its Commons House of Parliament are as distinct and unchanged as on the day when the high-hearted fathers of the emigration first consecrated them to the service of a free nation.By a freak of nature,as the subsiding plain cracked and shivered into twenty thousand fissures,an irregular oval area,of about two hundred feet by fifty,was left almost entirely surrounded by a crevice so deep and broad as to be utterly impassable;--at one extremity alone a scanty causeway connected it with the adjoining level,and allowed of access to its interior.It is true,just at one point the encircling chasm grows so narrow as to be within the possibility of a jump;and an ancient worthy,named Flosi,pursued by his enemies,did actually take it at a fly;but as leaping an inch short would have entailed certain drowning in the bright green waters that sleep forty feet below,you can conceive there was never much danger of this entrance becoming a thoroughfare.Iconfess that for one moment,while contemplating the scene of Flosi's exploit,I felt,--like a true Briton,--an idiotic desire to be able to say that I had done the same;that I survive to write this letter is a proof of my having come subsequently to my senses.

[Figure:fig-p055.gif with caption as follows:

A.The Althing.

B.The Hill of Laws.

C.The place where Flosi jumped.

D.Adjacent Chasms.]

This spot then,erected by nature almost into a fortress,the founders of the Icelandic constitution chose for the meetings of their Thing,[Footnote:From thing,to speak.

We have a vestige of the same word in Dingwall,a town of Ross-shire.]or Parliament,armed guards defended the entrance,while the grave bonders deliberated in security within:to this day,at the upper end of the place of meeting,may be seen the three hammocks,where sat in state the chiefs and judges of the land.

But those grand old times have long since passed away.

Along the banks of the Oxeraa no longer glisten the tents and booths of the assembled lieges;no longer stalwart berserks guard the narrow entrance to the Althing;ravens alone sit on the sacred Logberg;and the floor of the old Icelandic House of Commons is ignominiously cropped by the sheep of the parson.For three hundred years did the gallant little Republic maintain its independence--three hundred years of unequalled literary and political vigour.

At last its day of doom drew near.Like the Scotch nobles in the time of Elizabeth,their own chieftains intrigued against the liberties of the Icelandic people;and in 1261the island became an appanage of the Norwegian crown.

Yet even then the deed embodying the concession of their independence was drawn up in such haughty terms as to resemble rather the offer of an equal alliance than the renunciation of imperial rights.Soon,however,the apathy which invariably benumbs the faculties of a people too entirely relieved from the discipline and obligation of self-government,lapped in complete inactivity,moral,political,and intellectual,--these once stirring islanders.

On the amalgamation of the three Scandinavian monarchies,at the union of Calmar,the allegiance of the people of Iceland was passively transferred to the Danish crown.

Ever since that time,Danish proconsuls have administered their government,and Danish restrictions have regulated their trade.The traditions of their ancient autonomy have become as unsubstantial and obsolete as those which record the vanished fame of their poets and historians,and the exploits of their mariners.It is true,the adoption of the Lutheran religion galvanized for a moment into the semblance of activity the old literary spirit.

A printing-press was introduced as early as 1530,and ever since the sixteenth century many works of merit have been produced from time to time by Icelandic genius.