Visit to Iceland and the Scandinavian North

Ida Pfeiffer

Description

pubOne.info present you this wonderfully illustrated edition. The success which attended the publication in this Series of Illustrated Works of A Woman's Journey round the World, has induced the publication of the present volume on a country so little known as Iceland, and about which so little recent information exists.

Sujets

• Polar region

Informations

• Publié par: Pub One Info
• Date de parution: 06 novembre 2010
• Nombre de lectures: 0
• EAN13: 9782819935506
• Langue: English

Extrait

VISIT TO ICELAND
ADVERTISEMENT TO THE FIRST EDITION
The success which attended the publication in thisSeries of Illustrated Works of A Woman’s Journey round theWorld , has induced the publication of the present volume on acountry so little known as Iceland, and about which so littlerecent information exists.
The translation has been carefully made, expresslyfor this Series, from the original work published at Vienna; andthe Editor has added a great many notes, wherever they seemednecessary to elucidate the text.
In addition to the matter which appeared in theoriginal work, the present volume contains a translation of avaluable Essay on Icelandic poetry, by M. Bergmann; a translationof an Icelandic poem, the ‘Völuspâ; ’ a brief sketch of IcelandicHistory; and a translation of Schiller’s ballad, ‘The Diver, ’which is prominently alluded to by Madame Pfeiffer in herdescription of the Geysers. [1]
The Illustrations have been printed in tints, so asto make the work uniform with the Journey round theWorld .
London, August 1, 1852.
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
“Another journey— a journey, moreover, in regionswhich every one would rather avoid than seek. This woman onlyundertakes these journeys to attract attention. ”
“The first journey, for a woman alone, was certainlyrather a bold proceeding. Yet in that instance she might still havebeen excused. Religious motives may perhaps have actuated her; andwhen this is the case, people often go through incredible things.At present, however, we can see no just reason which could excusean undertaking of this description. ”
Thus, and perhaps more harshly still, will themajority judge me. And yet they will do me a grievous wrong. I amsurely simple and harmless enough, and should have fancied anything in the world rather than that it would ever be my fate todraw upon myself in any degree the notice of the public. I willmerely indicate, as briefly as may be, my character andcircumstances, and then I have no doubt my conduct will lose itsappearance of eccentricity, and seem perfectly natural.
When I was but a little child, I had already astrong desire to see the world. Whenever I met atravelling-carriage, I would stop involuntarily, and gaze after ituntil it had disappeared; I used even to envy the postilion, for Ithought he also must have accomplished the whole long journey.
As I grew to the age of from ten to twelve years,nothing gave me so much pleasure as the perusal of voyages andtravels. I ceased, indeed, to envy the postilions, but envied themore every navigator and naturalist.
Frequently my eyes would fill with tears when,having ascended a mountain, I saw others towering before me, andcould not gain the summit.
I made several journeys with my parents, and, aftermy marriage, with my husband; and only settled down when it becamenecessary that my two boys should visit particular schools. Myhusband’s affairs demanded his entire attention, partly in Lemberg,partly in Vienna. He therefore confided the education and cultureof the two boys entirely to my care; for he knew my firmness andperseverance in all I undertook, and doubted not that I would beboth father and mother to his children.
When my sons’ education had been completed, and Iwas living in peaceful retirement, the dreams and aspirations of myyouth gradually awoke once more. I thought of strange manners andcustoms, of distant regions, where a new sky would be above me, andnew ground beneath my feet. I pictured to myself the supremehappiness of treading the land once hallowed by the presence of ourSaviour, and at length made up my mind to travel thither.
As dangers and difficulties rose before my mind, Iendeavoured to wean myself from the idea I had formed— but in vain.For privation I cared but little; my health was good and my framehardy: I did not fear death. And moreover, as I was born in thelast century, I could travel alone. Thus every objection wasovercome; every thing had been duly weighed and considered. Icommenced my journey to Palestine with a feeling of perfectrapture; and behold, I returned in safety. I now feel persuadedthat I am neither tempting Providence, nor justly incurring theimputation of wishing to be talked about, in following the bent ofmy inclinations, and looking still further about me in the world Ichose Iceland for my destination, because I hoped there to findNature in a garb such as she wears nowhere else. I feel socompletely happy, so brought into communion with my Maker, when Icontemplate sublime natural phenomena, that in my eyes no degree oftoil or difficulty is too great a price at which to purchase suchperfect enjoyment.
And should death overtake me sooner or later duringmy wanderings, I shall await his approach in all resignation, andbe deeply grateful to the Almighty for the hours of holy beauty inwhich I have lived and gazed upon His wonders.
And now, dear reader, I would beg thee not to beangry with me for speaking so much of myself; it is only becausethis love of travelling does not, according to established notions,seem proper for one of my sex, that I have allowed my feelings tospeak in my defence.
Judge me, therefore, not too harshly; but rathergrant me the enjoyment of a pleasure which hurts no one, while itmakes me happy.
THE AUTHOR.
CHAPTER I
In the year 1845 I undertook another journey; [2] a journey, moreover, to the far North. Icelandwas one of those regions towards which, from the earliest period ofmy consciousness, I had felt myself impelled. In this country,stamped as it is by Nature with features so peculiar, as probablyto have no counterpart on the face of the globe, I hoped to seethings which should fill me with new and inexpressibleastonishment. How deeply grateful do I feel to Thee, O Thou thathast vouchsafed to me to behold the fulfilment of these mycherished dreams!
The parting from all my dear ones had this time farless bitterness; I had found by experience, that a woman of anenergetic mind can find her way through the world as well as a man,and that good people are to be met with every where. To this wasadded the reflection, that the hardships of my present voyage wouldbe of short duration, and that five or six months might see merestored to my family.
I left Vienna at five o’clock on the morning of thetenth of April. As the Danube had lately caused some devastations,on which occasion the railroad had not entirely escaped, we rodefor the first four miles, as far as Florisdorf, in an omnibus— notthe most agreeable mode of travelling. Our omnibuses are so smalland narrow, that one would suppose they were built for theexclusive accommodation of consumptive subjects, and not forhealthy, and in some cases portly individuals, whose bulk isfurther increased by a goodly assemblage of cloaks, furs, andovercoats.
At the barriers a new difficulty arose. We deliveredup our pass-warrants ( passirscheine ) in turn, with theexception of one young man, who was quite astounded at the demand.He had provided nothing but his passport and testimonials, beingtotally unaware that a pass-warrant is more indispensable than allthe rest. In vain did he hasten into the bureau to expostulate withthe officials, — we were forced to continue our journey withouthim.
We were informed that he was a student, who, at theconclusion of term, was about to make holiday for a few weeks athis parents’ house near Prague. Alas, poor youth! he had studied somuch, and yet knew so little. He had not even an idea of theoverwhelming importance of the document in question. For thistrifling omission he forfeited the fare to Prague, which had beenpaid in advance.
But to proceed with my journey.
At Florisdorf a joyful surprise awaited me. I met mybrother and my son, who had, it appears, preceded me. We enteredthe train to proceed in company to Stockerau, a place betweentwelve and thirteen miles off; but were obliged to alight halfway,and walk a short distance. The Embankment had given way. Luckilythe weather was favourable, inasmuch as we had only a violent stormof wind. Had it rained, we should have been wetted to the skin,besides being compelled to wade ankle-deep in mud. We were nextobliged to remain in the open air, awaiting the arrival of thetrain from Stockerau, which unloaded its freight, and received usin exchange.
At Stockerau I once more took leave of mycompanions, and was soon securely packed in the post-carriage fortransmission.
In travelling this short distance, I had thusentered four carriages; a thing sufficiently disagreeable to anunencumbered person, but infinitely more so to one who has luggageto watch over. The only advantage I could discover in all this was,that we had saved half an hour in coming these seventeen miles. Forthis, instead of 9 fl. 26 kr. from Vienna to Prague, we paid 10 fl.10 kr. from Stockerau to Prague, without reckoning expense ofomnibus and railway. It was certainly a dearly-bought half-hour. [3]
The little town of Znaim, with its neighbouringconvent, is situated on a large plain, extending from Vienna toBudwitz, seventeen miles beyond Znaim; the monotony of the view isonly broken here and there by low hills.
Near Schelletau the scenery begins to improve. Onthe left the view is bounded by a range of high hills, with aruined castle, suggestive of tragical tales of centuries gone by.Fir and pine forests skirt the road, and lie scattered inpicturesque groups over hill and dale.
April 11th.
Yesterday the weather had already begun to beungracious to us. At Znaim we found the valleys still partlycovered with snow, and the fog was at times so thick, that we couldnot see a hundred paces in advance; but to-day it was incomparablyworse. The mist resolved itself into a mild rain, which, however,lost so much of its mildness as we passed from station to station,that every thing around us was soon under water. But not only didwe ride through water, we were obliged to sit in it also. The roofof our carriage threatened to become a perfect siev