Books: Letters on Sweden, Norway, and Denmark
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Mary Wollstonecraft >> Letters on Sweden, Norway, and Denmark
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Adieu!--I am just informed that my horse has been waiting this
quarter of an hour. I now venture to ride out alone. The steeple
serves as a landmark. I once or twice lost my way, walking alone,
without being able to inquire after a path; I was therefore obliged
to make to the steeple, or windmill, over hedge and ditch.
Yours truly.
LETTER IX.
I have already informed you that there are only two noblemen who
have estates of any magnitude in Norway. One of these has a house
near Tonsberg, at which he has not resided for some years, having
been at court, or on embassies. He is now the Danish Ambassador in
London. The house is pleasantly situated, and the grounds about it
fine; but their neglected appearance plainly tells that there is
nobody at home.
A stupid kind of sadness, to my eye, always reigns in a huge
habitation where only servants live to put cases on the furniture
and open the windows. I enter as I would into the tomb of the
Capulets, to look at the family pictures that here frown in armour,
or smile in ermine. The mildew respects not the lordly robe, and
the worm riots unchecked on the cheek of beauty.
There was nothing in the architecture of the building, or the form
of the furniture, to detain me from the avenue where the aged pines
stretched along majestically. Time had given a greyish cast to
their ever-green foliage; and they stood, like sires of the forest,
sheltered on all sides by a rising progeny. I had not ever seen so
many oaks together in Norway as in these woods, nor such large
aspens as here were agitated by the breeze, rendering the wind
audible--nay musical; for melody seemed on the wing around me. How
different was the fresh odour that reanimated me in the avenue, from
the damp chillness of the apartments; and as little did the gloomy
thoughtfulness excited by the dusty hangings, and worm-eaten
pictures, resemble the reveries inspired by the soothing melancholy
of their shade. In the winter, these august pines, towering above
the snow, must relieve the eye beyond measure and give life to the
white waste.
The continual recurrence of pine and fir groves in the day sometimes
wearies the sight, but in the evening, nothing can be more
picturesque, or, more properly speaking, better calculated to
produce poetical images. Passing through them, I have been struck
with a mystic kind of reverence, and I did, as it were, homage to
their venerable shadows. Not nymphs, but philosophers, seemed to
inhabit them--ever musing; I could scarcely conceive that they were
without some consciousness of existence--without a calm enjoyment of
the pleasure they diffused.
How often do my feelings produce ideas that remind me of the origin
of many poetical fictions. In solitude, the imagination bodies
forth its conceptions unrestrained, and stops enraptured to adore
the beings of its own creation. These are moments of bliss; and the
memory recalls them with delight.
But I have almost forgotten the matters of fact I meant to relate,
respecting the counts. They have the presentation of the livings on
their estates, appoint the judges, and different civil officers, the
Crown reserving to itself the privilege of sanctioning them. But
though they appoint, they cannot dismiss. Their tenants also occupy
their farms for life, and are obliged to obey any summons to work on
the part he reserves for himself; but they are paid for their
labour. In short, I have seldom heard of any noblemen so innoxious.
Observing that the gardens round the count's estate were better
cultivated than any I had before seen, I was led to reflect on the
advantages which naturally accrue from the feudal tenures. The
tenants of the count are obliged to work at a stated price, in his
grounds and garden; and the instruction which they imperceptibly
receive from the head gardener tends to render them useful, and
makes them, in the common course of things, better husbandmen and
gardeners on their own little farms. Thus the great, who alone
travel in this period of society, for the observation of manners and
customs made by sailors is very confined, bring home improvement to
promote their own comfort, which is gradually spread abroad amongst
the people, till they are stimulated to think for themselves.
The bishops have not large revenues, and the priests are appointed
by the king before they come to them to be ordained. There is
commonly some little farm annexed to the parsonage, and the
inhabitants subscribe voluntarily, three times a year, in addition
to the church fees, for the support of the clergyman. The church
lands were seized when Lutheranism was introduced, the desire of
obtaining them being probably the real stimulus of reformation. The
tithes, which are never required in kind, are divided into three
parts--one to the king, another to the incumbent, and the third to
repair the dilapidations of the parsonage. They do not amount to
much. And the stipend allowed to the different civil officers is
also too small, scarcely deserving to be termed an independence;
that of the custom-house officers is not sufficient to procure the
necessaries of life--no wonder, then, if necessity leads them to
knavery. Much public virtue cannot be expected till every
employment, putting perquisites out of the question, has a salary
sufficient to reward industry;--whilst none are so great as to
permit the possessor to remain idle. It is this want of proportion
between profit and labour which debases men, producing the
sycophantic appellations of patron and client, and that pernicious
esprit du corps, proverbially vicious.
The farmers are hospitable as well as independent. Offering once to
pay for some coffee I drank when taking shelter from the rain, I was
asked, rather angrily, if a little coffee was worth paying for.
They smoke, and drink drams, but not so much as formerly.
Drunkenness, often the attendant disgrace of hospitality, will here,
as well as everywhere else, give place to gallantry and refinement
of manners; but the change will not be suddenly produced.
The people of every class are constant in their attendance at
church; they are very fond of dancing, and the Sunday evenings in
Norway, as in Catholic countries, are spent in exercises which
exhilarate the spirits without vitiating the heart. The rest of
labour ought to be gay; and the gladness I have felt in France on a
Sunday, or Decadi, which I caught from the faces around me, was a
sentiment more truly religious than all the stupid stillness which
the streets of London ever inspired where the Sabbath is so
decorously observed. I recollect, in the country parts of England,
the churchwardens used to go out during the service to see if they
could catch any luckless wight playing at bowls or skittles; yet
what could be more harmless? It would even, I think, be a great
advantage to the English, if feats of activity (I do not include
boxing matches) were encouraged on a Sunday, as it might stop the
progress of Methodism, and of that fanatical spirit which appears to
be gaining ground. I was surprised when I visited Yorkshire, on my
way to Sweden, to find that sullen narrowness of thinking had made
such a progress since I was an inhabitant of the country. I could
hardly have supposed that sixteen or seventeen years could have
produced such an alteration for the worse in the morals of a place--
yes, I say morals; for observance of forms, and avoiding of
practices, indifferent in themselves, often supply the place of that
regular attention to duties which are so natural, that they seldom
are vauntingly exercised, though they are worth all the precepts of
the law and the prophets. Besides, many of these deluded people,
with the best meaning, actually lose their reason, and become
miserable, the dread of damnation throwing them into a state which
merits the term; and still more, in running after their preachers,
expecting to promote their salvation, they disregard their welfare
in this world, and neglect the interest and comfort of their
families; so that, in proportion as they attain a reputation for
piety, they become idle.
Aristocracy and fanaticism seem equally to be gaining ground in
England, particularly in the place I have mentioned; I saw very
little of either in Norway. The people are regular in their
attendance on public worship, but religion does not interfere with
their employments.
As the farmers cut away the wood they clear the ground. Every year,
therefore, the country is becoming fitter to support the
inhabitants. Half a century ago the Dutch, I am told, only paid for
the cutting down of the wood, and the farmers were glad to get rid
of it without giving themselves any trouble. At present they form a
just estimate of its value; nay, I was surprised to find even
firewood so dear when it appears to be in such plenty. The
destruction, or gradual reduction, of their forests will probably
ameliorate the climate, and their manners will naturally improve in
the same ratio as industry requires ingenuity. It is very fortunate
that men are a long time but just above the brute creation, or the
greater part of the earth would never have been rendered habitable,
because it is the patient labour of men, who are only seeking for a
subsistence, which produces whatever embellishes existence,
affording leisure for the cultivation of the arts and sciences that
lift man so far above his first state. I never, my friend, thought
so deeply of the advantages obtained by human industry as since I
have been in Norway. The world requires, I see, the hand of man to
perfect it, and as this task naturally unfolds the faculties he
exercises, it is physically impossible that he should have remained
in Rousseau's golden age of stupidity. And, considering the
question of human happiness, where, oh where does it reside? Has it
taken up its abode with unconscious ignorance or with the high-
wrought mind? Is it the offspring of thoughtless animal spirits or
the dye of fancy continually flitting round the expected pleasure?
The increasing population of the earth must necessarily tend to its
improvement, as the means of existence are multiplied by invention.
You have probably made similar reflections in America, where the
face of the country, I suppose, resembles the wilds of Norway. I am
delighted with the romantic views I daily contemplate, animated by
the purest air; and I am interested by the simplicity of manners
which reigns around me. Still nothing so soon wearies out the
feelings as unmarked simplicity. I am therefore half convinced that
I could not live very comfortably exiled from the countries where
mankind are so much further advanced in knowledge, imperfect as it
is, and unsatisfactory to the thinking mind. Even now I begin to
long to hear what you are doing in England and France. My thoughts
fly from this wilderness to the polished circles of the world, till
recollecting its vices and follies, I bury myself in the woods, but
find it necessary to emerge again, that I may not lose sight of the
wisdom and virtue which exalts my nature.
What a long time it requires to know ourselves; and yet almost every
one has more of this knowledge than he is willing to own, even to
himself. I cannot immediately determine whether I ought to rejoice
at having turned over in this solitude a new page in the history of
my own heart, though I may venture to assure you that a further
acquaintance with mankind only tends to increase my respect for your
judgment and esteem for your character. Farewell!
LETTER X.
I have once more, my friend, taken flight, for I left Tonsberg
yesterday, but with an intention of returning in my way back to
Sweden.
The road to Laurvig is very fine, and the country the best
cultivated in Norway. I never before admired the beech tree, and
when I met stragglers here they pleased me still less. Long and
lank, they would have forced me to allow that the line of beauty
requires some curves, if the stately pine, standing near, erect,
throwing her vast arms around, had not looked beautiful in
opposition to such narrow rules.
In these respects my very reason obliges me to permit my feelings to
be my criterion. Whatever excites emotion has charms for me, though
I insist that the cultivation of the mind by warming, nay, almost
creating the imagination, produces taste and an immense variety of
sensations and emotions, partaking of the exquisite pleasure
inspired by beauty and sublimity. As I know of no end to them, the
word infinite, so often misapplied, might on this occasion be
introduced with something like propriety.
But I have rambled away again. I intended to have remarked to you
the effect produced by a grove of towering beech, the airy lightness
of their foliage admitting a degree of sunshine, which, giving a
transparency to the leaves, exhibited an appearance of freshness and
elegance that I had never before remarked. I thought of
descriptions of Italian scenery. But these evanescent graces seemed
the effect of enchantment; and I imperceptibly breathed softly, lest
I should destroy what was real, yet looked so like the creation of
fancy. Dryden's fable of the flower and the leaf was not a more
poetical reverie.
Adieu, however, to fancy, and to all the sentiments which ennoble
our nature. I arrived at Laurvig, and found myself in the midst of
a group of lawyers of different descriptions. My head turned round,
my heart grew sick, as I regarded visages deformed by vice, and
listened to accounts of chicanery that was continually embroiling
the ignorant. These locusts will probably diminish as the people
become more enlightened. In this period of social life the
commonalty are always cunningly attentive to their own interest; but
their faculties, confined to a few objects, are so narrowed, that
they cannot discover it in the general good. The profession of the
law renders a set of men still shrewder and more selfish than the
rest; and it is these men, whose wits have been sharpened by
knavery, who here undermine morality, confounding right and wrong.
The Count of Bernstorff, who really appears to me, from all I can
gather, to have the good of the people at heart, aware of this, has
lately sent to the mayor of each district to name, according to the
size of the place, four or six of the best-informed inhabitants, not
men of the law, out of which the citizens were to elect two, who are
to be termed mediators. Their office is to endeavour to prevent
litigious suits, and conciliate differences. And no suit is to be
commenced before the parties have discussed the dispute at their
weekly meeting. If a reconciliation should, in consequence, take
place, it is to be registered, and the parties are not allowed to
retract.
By these means ignorant people will be prevented from applying for
advice to men who may justly be termed stirrers-up of strife. They
have for a long time, to use a significant vulgarism, set the people
by the ears, and live by the spoil they caught up in the scramble.
There is some reason to hope that this regulation will diminish
their number, and restrain their mischievous activity. But till
trials by jury are established, little justice can be expected in
Norway. Judges who cannot be bribed are often timid, and afraid of
offending bold knaves, lest they should raise a set of hornets about
themselves. The fear of censure undermines all energy of character;
and, labouring to be prudent, they lose sight of rectitude.
Besides, nothing is left to their conscience, or sagacity; they must
be governed by evidence, though internally convinced that it is
false.
There is a considerable iron manufactory at Laurvig for coarse work,
and a lake near the town supplies the water necessary for working
several mills belonging to it.
This establishment belongs to the Count of Laurvig. Without a
fortune and influence equal to his, such a work could not have been
set afloat; personal fortunes are not yet sufficient to support such
undertakings. Nevertheless the inhabitants of the town speak of the
size of his estate as an evil, because it obstructs commerce. The
occupiers of small farms are obliged to bring their wood to the
neighbouring seaports to be shipped; but he, wishing to increase the
value of his, will not allow it to be thus gradually cut down, which
turns the trade into another channel. Added to this, nature is
against them, the bay being open and insecure. I could not help
smiling when I was informed that in a hard gale a vessel had been
wrecked in the main street. When there are such a number of
excellent harbours on the coast, it is a pity that accident has made
one of the largest towns grow up on a bad one.
The father of the present count was a distant relation of the
family; he resided constantly in Denmark, and his son follows his
example. They have not been in possession of the estate many years;
and their predecessor lived near the town, introducing a degree of
profligacy of manners which has been ruinous to the inhabitants in
every respect, their fortunes not being equal to the prevailing
extravagance.
What little I have seen of the manners of the people does not please
me so well as those of Tonsberg. I am forewarned that I shall find
them still more cunning and fraudulent as I advance towards the
westward, in proportion as traffic takes place of agriculture, for
their towns are built on naked rocks, the streets are narrow
bridges, and the inhabitants are all seafaring men, or owners of
ships, who keep shops.
The inn I was at in Laurvig this journey was not the same that I was
at before. It is a good one--the people civil, and the
accommodations decent. They seem to be better provided in Sweden;
but in justice I ought to add that they charge more extravagantly.
My bill at Tonsberg was also much higher than I had paid in Sweden,
and much higher than it ought to have been where provision is so
cheap. Indeed, they seem to consider foreigners as strangers whom
they shall never see again, and may fairly pluck. And the
inhabitants of the western coast, isolated, as it were, regard those
of the east almost as strangers. Each town in that quarter seems to
be a great family, suspicious of every other, allowing none to cheat
them but themselves; and, right or wrong, they support one another
in the face of justice.
On this journey I was fortunate enough to have one companion with
more enlarged views than the generality of his countrymen, who spoke
English tolerably.
I was informed that we might still advance a mile and a quarter in
our cabrioles; afterwards there was no choice, but of a single horse
and wretched path, or a boat, the usual mode of travelling.
We therefore sent our baggage forward in the boat, and followed
rather slowly, for the road was rocky and sandy. We passed,
however, through several beech groves, which still delighted me by
the freshness of their light green foliage, and the elegance of
their assemblage, forming retreats to veil without obscuring the
sun.
I was surprised, at approaching the water, to find a little cluster
of houses pleasantly situated, and an excellent inn. I could have
wished to have remained there all night; but as the wind was fair,
and the evening fine, I was afraid to trust to the wind--the
uncertain wind of to-morrow. We therefore left Helgeraac
immediately with the declining sun.
Though we were in the open sea, we sailed more amongst the rocks and
islands than in my passage from Stromstad; and they often forced
very picturesque combinations. Few of the high ridges were entirely
bare; the seeds of some pines or firs had been wafted by the winds
or waves, and they stood to brave the elements.
Sitting, then, in a little boat on the ocean, amidst strangers, with
sorrow and care pressing hard on me--buffeting me about from clime
to clime--I felt
"Like the lone shrub at random cast,
That sighs and trembles at each blast!"
On some of the largest rocks there were actually groves, the retreat
of foxes and hares, which, I suppose, had tripped over the ice
during the winter, without thinking to regain the main land before
the thaw.
Several of the islands were inhabited by pilots; and the Norwegian
pilots are allowed to be the best in the world--perfectly acquainted
with their coast, and ever at hand to observe the first signal or
sail. They pay a small tax to the king and to the regulating
officer, and enjoy the fruit of their indefatigable industry.
One of the islands, called Virgin Land, is a flat, with some depth
of earth, extending for half a Norwegian mile, with three farms on
it, tolerably well cultivated.
On some of the bare rocks I saw straggling houses; they rose above
the denomination of huts inhabited by fishermen. My companions
assured me that they were very comfortable dwellings, and that they
have not only the necessaries, but even what might be reckoned the
superfluities of life. It was too late for me to go on shore, if
you will allow me to give that name to shivering rocks, to ascertain
the fact.
But rain coming on, and the night growing dark, the pilot declared
that it would be dangerous for us to attempt to go to the place of
our destination--East Rusoer--a Norwegian mile and a half further;
and we determined to stop for the night at a little haven, some half
dozen houses scattered under the curve of a rock. Though it became
darker and darker, our pilot avoided the blind rocks with great
dexterity.
It was about ten o'clock when we arrived, and the old hostess
quickly prepared me a comfortable bed--a little too soft or so, but
I was weary; and opening the window to admit the sweetest of breezes
to fan me to sleep, I sunk into the most luxurious rest: it was
more than refreshing. The hospitable sprites of the grots surely
hovered round my pillow; and, if I awoke, it was to listen to the
melodious whispering of the wind amongst them, or to feel the mild
breath of morn. Light slumbers produced dreams, where Paradise was
before me. My little cherub was again hiding her face in my bosom.
I heard her sweet cooing beat on my heart from the cliffs, and saw
her tiny footsteps on the sands. New-born hopes seemed, like the
rainbow, to appear in the clouds of sorrow, faint, yet sufficient to
amuse away despair.
Some refreshing but heavy showers have detained us; and here I am
writing quite alone--something more than gay, for which I want a
name.
I could almost fancy myself in Nootka Sound, or on some of the
islands on the north-west coast of America. We entered by a narrow
pass through the rocks, which from this abode appear more romantic
than you can well imagine; and seal-skins hanging at the door to dry
add to the illusion.
It is indeed a corner of the world, but you would be surprised to
see the cleanliness and comfort of the dwelling. The shelves are
not only shining with pewter and queen's ware, but some articles in
silver, more ponderous, it is true, than elegant. The linen is
good, as well as white. All the females spin, and there is a loom
in the kitchen. A sort of individual taste appeared in the
arrangement of the furniture (this is not the place for imitation)
and a kindness in their desire to oblige. How superior to the apish
politeness of the towns! where the people, affecting to be well
bred, fatigue with their endless ceremony.
The mistress is a widow, her daughter is married to a pilot, and has
three cows. They have a little patch of land at about the distance
of two English miles, where they make hay for the winter, which they
bring home in a boat. They live here very cheap, getting money from
the vessels which stress of weather, or other causes, bring into
their harbour. I suspect, by their furniture, that they smuggle a
little. I can now credit the account of the other houses, which I
last night thought exaggerated.
I have been conversing with one of my companions respecting the laws
and regulations of Norway. He is a man within great portion of
common sense and heart--yes, a warm heart. This is not the first
time I have remarked heart without sentiment; they are distinct.
The former depends on the rectitude of the feelings, on truth of
sympathy; these characters have more tenderness than passion; the
latter has a higher source--call it imagination, genius, or what you
will, it is something very different. I have been laughing with
these simple worthy folk--to give you one of my half-score Danish
words--and letting as much of my heart flow out in sympathy as they
can take. Adieu! I must trip up the rocks. The rain is ever. Let
me catch pleasure on the wing--I may be melancholy to-morrow. Now
all my nerves keep time with the melody of nature. Ah! let me be
happy whilst I can. The tear starts as I think of it. I must flee
from thought, and find refuge from sorrow in a strong imagination--
the only solace for a feeling heart. Phantoms of bliss! ideal forms
of excellence! again enclose me in your magic circle, and wipe clear
from my remembrance the disappointments that reader the sympathy
painful, which experience rather increases than damps, by giving the
indulgence of feeling the sanction of reason.
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