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MIDNIGHT SUNBEAMS.

[Illustration]




                           MIDNIGHT SUNBEAMS
                                  OR
                    BITS OF TRAVEL THROUGH THE LAND
                            OF THE NORSEMAN

                                  BY
                       _EDWIN COOLIDGE KIMBALL_

                                BOSTON
                     CUPPLES AND HURD, PUBLISHERS




                                  To
                            WALTER H. CAMP,
     In memory of years of friendship, this book is affectionately
                              dedicated.




PREFACE.


The following sketches of a journey in Norway, Sweden, and Denmark
are given to the public in the hope that their perusal will furnish
information concerning the people, and attractions, of countries which
are being visited by Americans more and more each succeeding year.
While they may impart some useful knowledge to intending travellers
over the same ground, it is hoped as well that they will furnish
entertainment to those who travel only through books.

The memories of the days passed in the North are so sunny and
delightful, that I wish others to enjoy them with me; and if the reader
receives a clear impression of the novel experiences and thorough
pleasure attending a journey through Norseland, and partakes, if only
in a limited degree, of my enthusiasm over the character of the people
and the imposing grandeurs of nature, the object of this book will be
accomplished.

  E. C. K.




CONTENTS.


  CHAPTER I.
  _COPENHAGEN AND ENVIRONS._
                                                               PAGE
  LÜBECK—JOURNEY TO COPENHAGEN—HERR RENTIER—BERTEL
  THORVALDSEN—MUSEUMS—AN EVENING AT THE TIVOLI—SOUVENIRS OF
  HAMLET—A FAMOUS MOTHER-IN-LAW—THE FREDERIKSBORG PALACE—AN
  AIMLESS WIDOW                                                  15


  CHAPTER II.
  _ACROSS SWEDEN BY THE GOTHA CANAL._

  A DAY AT GOTHENBURG—THE GOTHA CANAL—LIFE ON THE
  “VENUS”—KEEPING OUR MEAL ACCOUNTS—THE TROLLHÄTTA
  FALLS—PASTORAL SCENERY—SWEDISH BOARDING-SCHOOL
  GIRLS—LAKE MÄLAR                                               41


  CHAPTER III.
  _IN AND ABOUT STOCKHOLM._

  THE ISLANDS AND FEATURES OF THE CITY—THE WESTMINSTER ABBEY
  OF SWEDEN—INTERESTING MUSEUMS—LEADING CITY FOR
  TELEPHONES—SCENES AT EVENING CONCERTS—THE MULTITUDE OF
  EXCURSIONS—DOWN THE BALTIC TO VAXHOLM—ROYAL CASTLES ON THE
  LAKE—UNIVERSITY TOWN OF UPSALA                                 57


  CHAPTER IV.
  _RAILWAY JOURNEY TO THRONDHJEM._

  SWEDISH RAILWAYS AND MEAL STATIONS—AMONG THE SNOW
  BANKS—THE DESCENT TO THRONDHJEM—THE SHRINE OF ST.
  OLAF—NORTH CAPE STEAMERS                                       75


  CHAPTER V.
  _THE NORWEGIAN NORDLAND._

  THE EVER-PRESENT SALMON—A CHEESE EXHIBITION—THE BLESSED
  ISLAND BELT—TORGHÄTTA AND THE SEVEN SISTERS—SCENES WITHIN
  THE ARCTIC CIRCLE—VISIT TO THE SVARTISEN GLACIER—COASTING
  ALONG THE LOFODEN ISLANDS—SEA FOWL AND EIDER DUCKS—REINDEER
  SWIMMING ACROSS THE FJORD                                      89


  CHAPTER VI.
  _FROM TROMSÖ TO THE NORTH CAPE._

  THE SIGHTS OF TROMSÖ—A VISIT TO A WHALE-OIL FACTORY—THE
  MOST NORTHERN TOWN IN THE WORLD—BIRD ISLANDS IN THE
  ARCTIC OCEAN—A PICNIC AT THE BASE OF THE NORTH CAPE—THE
  MIDNIGHT SUN—PERPLEXITIES OF PERPETUAL DAY                    111


  CHAPTER VII.
  _THE VOYAGE BACK TO THRONDHJEM._

  THE LYNGEN FJORD—LAPP ENCAMPMENT IN THE TROMSDAL—A SMUKE
  PIGE—LAPP HUTS AND BABIES—REINDEER, AND THEIR MANIFOLD
  USES—LOADING CATTLE—FAREWELL APPEARANCE OF THE MIDNIGHT
  SUN—SCENES AMONG THE STEERAGE                                 133


  CHAPTER VIII.
  _MOLDE AND THE ROMSDAL._

  CHRISTIANSUND—RESTING AT MOLDE—LEPROSY IN NORWAY—FIRST
  CARRIOLE DRIVE—STRUGGLING WITH THE NORSE LANGUAGE—WALK
  THROUGH THE ROMSDAL                                           151


  CHAPTER IX.
  _A MOUNTAIN WALK._

  STEAMBOAT SERVICE—A NIGHT IN A MOUNTAIN SÆTER—PRIMITIVE
  ACCOMMODATIONS—A TALKATIVE FARMER—RIDING HORSEBACK UNDER
  DIFFICULTIES—AN EXHAUSTING TRAMP AND A TRIAL OF  PATIENCE—UP
  THE GEIRANGER FJORD TO MEROK—APPROACH TO HELLESYLT            169


  CHAPTER X.
  _ACROSS COUNTRY DRIVE._

  POSTING SYSTEM AND MANNER OF TRAVELLING IN THE
  INTERIOR—CHARACTERISTICS OF THE NORWEGIANS—A DAY’S
  CARRIOLING—A MORNING WALK—RIVAL INNKEEPERS—SCENES IN THE
  HAY FIELDS—OUR THIRD DAY’S RIDE—RESTING AT SANDE              187


  CHAPTER XI.
  _ON AND ABOUT THE SOGNEFJORD._

  A DAY ON THE SOGNEFJORD—EVENING SCENES AT A NORWEGIAN
  HOTEL—CARRIOLING THROUGH THE LAERDAL—BORGUND CHURCH—THE
  GRANDEURS OF THE NAERÖFJORD AND WALK THROUGH THE
  NAERÖDAL—OUR DRIVE TO VOSSEVANGEN—A MORNING WALK TO EIDE      211


  CHAPTER XII.
  _THE HARDANGER FJORD._

  A SABBATH AT VIK—ROAD BUILDING—VISIT TO THE VÖRINGSFOS—ODDE
  ON THE SÖRFJORD—EXCURSION TO THE SKJÆGGEDALSFOS—THE
  BRUARBRÆ—FROM ODDE BY STEAMER TO BERGEN                       231


  CHAPTER XIII.
  _BERGEN._

  OUR EXPERIENCES IN THE “WEEPING CITY”—SCENES IN THE FISH
  MARKET—RAINY WALKS ABOUT TOWN—A BENEFICIAL LICENCE
  SYSTEM—VOYAGE ACROSS THE NORTH SEA—UP THE RIVER MAAS TO
  ROTTERDAM                                                     253


  CHAPTER XIV.
  _EXPENSES AND PRACTICAL HINTS._

  WHAT DID IT COST?—THE ROUTE AND TIME ALLOWED FOR THE
  JOURNEY—CLOTHING AND FOOD—LADIES TRAVELLING ALONE—THE
  RESULT OF POLITENESS AND CONSIDERATION—CONCLUSION             267




COPENHAGEN AND ENVIRONS.




CHAPTER I. _COPENHAGEN AND ENVIRONS._

    LÜBECK—JOURNEY TO COPENHAGEN—HERR RENTIER—BERTEL
    THORVALDSEN—MUSEUMS—AN EVENING AT THE TIVOLI—SOUVENIRS OF HAMLET—A
    FAMOUS MOTHER-IN-LAW—THE FREDERIKSBORG PALACE—AN AIMLESS WIDOW.


It was on a charming day in June, after an hour’s railway ride from
Hamburg, that we arrived at Lübeck—the starting point of our journey
through Scandinavia. Lübeck is the smallest of the three independent
Hanseatic towns of the German Empire, both Hamburg and Bremen far
surpassing her in size and importance, yet at one time she stood at the
head of the Hanseatic League—the alliance of the great commercial towns
of North Germany.

Architecturally, Lübeck is one of the most interesting places in
Germany. You enter the town from the railway station through the
Holstenthor, a wonderful mediæval gateway of red brick and terracotta,
and soon reach the market-place, on two sides of which rises the
venerable Rathhaus, a Gothic building in brick, with many gables,
turrets and quaint spires; extending underneath it is the Rathskeller,
remarkable for its well-preserved vaulting, as well as for its
excellent Rhine wines and claret. The chimney piece in the apartment,
where wedding festivities were formerly celebrated, bears the following
inscription—a genuine bachelor sentiment—_Mennich man lude synghet wen
me em de Brut bringet; weste he wat men em brochte, dat he wol wenen
mochte_ (Many a man sings loudly when they bring him his bride; if he
knew what they brought him, he might well weep).

On one side of the square is the handsome modern post-office
constructed in the mediæval style; here and there in the quiet streets
we came upon the elaborately carved fronts of the ancient guild halls,
and buildings with high steep roofs filled with odd windows like great
blinking eyes; in one of the squares is a handsome modern fountain, and
before a hotel near by stand two colossal cast-iron lions designed by
the famous German sculptor Rauch, while scattered about the city are
numerous churches containing interesting monuments, mural paintings and
ancient altar-pieces.

The river Trave winding about the city renders it almost an island; the
old ramparts have been converted into promenades and pleasure gardens,
and from them one has an extended view of the busy harbor and its
shipping, while the many towers, and lofty numerously windowed roofs
of the houses and public buildings rising above it, present a striking
and picturesque effect. We could not think of leaving the old city
without first investing in some of the _marzipan_, for which Lübeck is
celebrated; it is a sort of confect or cake made of sugar and almonds,
very sweet and insipid to the taste, and doubtless one must acquire a
liking for it the same as for the varied assortment of German sausages.

At four o’clock in the afternoon we stood on the deck of the “Orion,”
watching the many tall and slender spires of the churches of Lübeck
receding from view, as we steamed onward down the narrow winding river,
nine miles to Travemünde, a little sea-bathing resort for the Lübeckers
at the river’s mouth, where we entered upon the Baltic. We sat on deck
watching the sunset and the outlines of the German coast, the country
where we had spent nearly a year and which had grown to seem like home,
growing more and more indistinct; the sea was as calm as a mill pond,
there being scarcely any perceptible motion; the moon appeared and we
remained for a long time upon deck, in perfect enjoyment of the scene,
then retired to our state-rooms to sleep soundly until our arrival at
Copenhagen, soon after six o’clock in the morning.

Copenhagen impressed us at first like a Dutch city. The long quays
covered with merchandise and lined with shipping, and, as we drove to
our hotel, the vistas down side streets of canals filled with vessels,
reminded us strongly of Amsterdam and the other Dutch _dams_ we had
visited.

In many European hotels the servant who conducts you to your room
upon your arrival hands you a printed form to be filled out, giving
information as to your place of birth, your age, where you came
from, where you are going to, and your quality or profession. We had
generally written tourist, traveller, or student in answer to the
last, but as students are often classed with socialists and other
suspicious characters, we registered this time that coveted European
title—_Rentier_ (a gentleman living on his income). Later, as we came
out of the hotel, on a great black-board at the foot of the staircase
we saw, in large letters, so that “he who ran could read,” Herr Rentier
E., Herr Rentier K., against the number of our room, and the line of
servants greeting us with obsequious bows gave us an exalted opinion
of our own importance, but filled us with alarm when we thought of the
fees that would be expected from gentlemen with titles associated with
big money bags.

The great centre of the life and activity of the city is the Kongens
Nytorv (King’s Market), a large square from which radiate thirteen
streets. Trees surround a king’s statue in the centre, on the south
side rises the National Theatre, the principal hotels and shops are
in, or near, this square, and the greater part of the horse-car lines
centre here. Walking down an adjacent street whose shop windows were
filled with tempting displays of terracotta vases, statues, and
reliefs, many of them being copies from Thorvaldsen’s works, we came to
a large market place, where old women, wearing big white sunbonnets,
with white handkerchiefs folded over their shoulders, sat in the open
air behind piles of fruit and vegetables. Many of the market girls
wore kid gloves, minus the finger ends; one girl, adorned with what
were once delicate evening gloves, was selling cabbages, and from the
coquettish manner in which she handled them with her soiled gloves, we
judged that she considered herself the belle of the market.

Near by is the Christiansborg Palace, which was partially destroyed by
fire in 1884. Most of the walls are still standing, but the interior
was completely destroyed. In addition to the royal residence, the
long range of buildings surrounding the spacious courts contained the
Chambers of Parliament, the Royal Library and Picture Gallery; part of
the collection in the last was saved from the flames.

Looking across the great Palace Square we see the tall tower of the
Exchange one hundred and fifty feet high, the upper part of which is
formed by four dragons, their tails twisted together high in air, until
they gradually taper to a point. Tradition says that this curious spire
was removed bodily from Kalmar in the south of Sweden.

At one side of the great ruined palace is the Thorvaldsen Museum,
the chief attraction of Copenhagen, and the northern Mecca of all
art-loving tourists.

Bertel Thorvaldsen was born in Copenhagen in 1770. His father was a
ship carpenter and carver of figure heads, and as a child little Bertel
went with him to the ship yards and assisted him in his work, showing
so much intelligence, that at the age of eleven he entered the Free
School of Art.

Here he made rapid progress in sculpture, but the other branches of
his education were so neglected, that at the age of eighteen he could
scarcely read and write; his genius for art was born in him, and at
the age of twenty-three he gained the grand prize, which carried with
it the privilege of study and travel abroad. In after years, when
questioned concerning the date of his birth, he always replied: “I
don’t know; but I arrived in Rome on the 8th of March 1797,” dating
his birth from the commencement of his career as an artist. Years
of obscurity and patient labor followed his arrival in Rome; the
model of his great work “Jason,” though greatly admired, found no
purchaser till in 1803, just as he was about to return to Copenhagen in
hopeless disgust, Thomas Hope, a wealthy English banker, ordered its
reproduction in marble. From this time forward, fame and prosperity
flowed in upon him at full tide. When he returned to Denmark in 1819,
his whole journey, in each country through which he travelled, was a
series of honors. His reception at Copenhagen was triumphal, and he
was lodged as a guest in the Royal Palace. He remained a year, then
returned to Rome where he labored assiduously till 1838, when he left,
intending to pass the remainder of his days in his native land, but
the climate proving too severe he returned, in 1841, to Rome. Having
revisited Copenhagen in 1844 he died there suddenly in the theatre. By
many he is ranked as the greatest sculptor since Michael Angelo, and is
regarded as the most famous Dane of modern times.

The Thorvaldsen Museum was built by the city of Copenhagen, partly
from private subscriptions, as a repository for the works of art
bequeathed by the great sculptor to his native town; it also contains
his Mausoleum, for it was Thorvaldsen’s expressed wish to rest among
his works. The building is constructed in the style of the Pompeian and
Etruscan tombs enclosing a large open court. Over the pediment of the
façade is a bronze goddess of victory in a quadriga; the other three
sides of the building are decorated with a series of scenes in plaster,
inlaid with different  cements, representing the arrival and
unloading of the ships at Copenhagen in 1838, which had been sent to
Rome to bring back the great sculptor, and his works of art, to his
native land. The tomb is in the centre of the open court, covered with
ivy and surrounded by a low granite frame bearing simply the name,
Bertel Thorvaldsen, and the date of his birth and death. The coffin
rests in a decorated vault below.

In the corridors surrounding the court, in the lofty vestibule, and
in the forty-two rooms on both floors of the building, are displayed
one hundred and nine of Thorvaldsen’s works in marble, besides plaster
casts of all the works from his hand, several hundred in number,
comprising statues, busts, reliefs, and sepulchral and commemorative
monuments: for in every city of any importance, from Copenhagen to
Rome, there is found some work from the hand of this prolific genius.
Several rooms contain a collection of gems, coins, vases, antiquities
and paintings, gathered by the sculptor during his residence in Rome,
while others contain his sketches, designs, and furniture from his home
in Copenhagen.

Among his most famous works are _Jason with the Golden Fleece_, _Hebe_,
_Mercury_, and the _Shepherd Boy_, the model of which was a beautiful
Roman boy. There is a most striking statue of Thorvaldsen, executed
by himself, representing the sculptor in his studio, with mallet and
chisel in his hands, as he pauses for a moment in his work, and leans
upon his unfinished statue of _Hope_.

The lovely reliefs of _Day_, _Night_, and the _Four Seasons_ are
familiar to all from photographs; the relief called the _Ages of Love_,
where representatives of all ages are eagerly catching the flying
cherubs as they are let out of a cage, so delighted the Pope on his
visit to the artist’s studio, and so absorbed was he in contemplation,
that he forgot to bestow the customary blessing upon the sculptor.

Perhaps the most impressive of all his works are his _Christ_ and
the _Twelve Apostles_, the models of which are here in the Museum in
the “Hall of Christ,” and the originals in marble in the _Fruekirke_
(Church of Our Lady) not far away; the colossal statues of the
apostles, at the sides of the church, lead up to the sublime figure
of the Risen Christ; and all show the capacity of the artist for
appreciating and fulfilling the demands of the Christian ideal. In
the same church is a kneeling Angel of great beauty, holding a shell
which serves as a font, and in two chapels are exquisite reliefs of the
_Baptism_, and _Last Supper_.

Copenhagen possesses many museums and collections; among them, the
Museum of Northern Antiquities contains an invaluable collection
representing the Flint, Bronze, Iron, Mediæval and Modern Periods of
Scandinavian civilization, but it is of more interest to the scientist
and special student than to the ordinary tourist.

The Ethnological Museum is one of the most extensive in Europe;
particularly interesting were the figures in costumes representing life
among the Esquimaux and North American Indians, the latter gorgeous in
feathers and war paint.

The Church of the Trinity has a tower 116 feet high, called the Round
Tower, ascended by means of a wide winding roadway, which would readily
permit of a horse and carriage being driven to the very top; from the
summit you obtain one of the finest views of the city, divided into
islands by the canals and arms of the sea which intersect it in many
directions. You look down upon a sea of roofs, broken here and there
by gardens and small parks, and bounded upon one side by a sea of blue
water, upon the other by the green beech forests of Zealand.

The pleasantest promenade in the city is called the Lange Linie, a wide
shaded walk extending along the sea on one side of the citadel, at the
end of which are several sea-bathing establishments; it is a favorite
resort on an afternoon, and one encounters many promenaders, enjoying
the bracing sea breezes and the views of the gleaming waters traversed
by numerous steamers and sailing craft. The citadel is surrounded by a
moat, but the drawbridge is always down and one enters freely, walks
about the earth-works and walls, among the cannon and barracks, and
explores unmolested to his heart’s content, in great contrast to the
fortresses of Germany, where no stranger is allowed to enter without a
permit, and at every step is accompanied by a soldier.

The Botanic Gardens are laid out on the site of the ancient
fortifications, and furnish an agreeable lounging place, even if one is
not interested in flowers and plants. In this section of the city are
many wide streets and boulevards, with handsome modern houses built on
the Parisian model of flats. The handsome brick Rosenborg Palace near
by is especially interesting from its collection of personal mementoes
of the Danish monarchs, who fitted up suites of rooms in the style
of their various epochs, and collected here their jewels, weapons,
coronation robes, state costumes, and curiosities. In the rear of the
palace is a pretty park, open to the public, which is a favorite resort
of nurses and the rising generation of Danes.

The part of the city adjacent to the railway station appears to be
of very recent growth; its wide streets, lighted by electric light
and traversed by horse-cars, are bounded by large hotels and imposing
business blocks and houses.

In this quarter is the Tivoli, the most popular resort in Copenhagen,
and a most attractive place on a summer evening. It is an immense
garden, containing many handsome concert halls, gorgeous pavilions,
restaurants, booths for the sale of fancy articles, and every
conceivable means of amusement. You pay 50 öre (about thirteen cents)
to enter, and are then free to select such entertainment as your fancy
dictates. From six to eleven o’clock in the evening there is a change
of entertainment every half hour. The first evening we spent at the
Tivoli the programme began with a concert from a brass band; then for
half an hour in a beautiful concert hall in a different part of the
gardens, a string orchestra of sixty performers played selections from
one of Beethoven’s symphonies; after which there was a rush to watch,
during the next half hour, a trapeze performance in the open air,
followed by jumping, tumbling, and walking a wire; the brass band gave
another concert; an operetta in one act followed, the audience sitting
in chairs beneath the trees before the stage; then came the second part
of the orchestral concert, with selections from Wagner’s Tannhäuser. In
another part of the garden, a play at a small theatre occupies the next
hour, and you begin to feel that you have received many times the worth
of the price of admission; and yet the programme is not exhausted.

As the lingering June twilight deepens, the gardens are illuminated
by festoons and arches of lights in  globes, the façades of
the cafés, restaurants, and other buildings blaze with light, and the
entire grounds become a picture of enchantment and festivity.

The lively Danes sit at little tables beneath the trees, eat cold
sausage, drink beer, and take in the music, the same as their near
neighbors in Germany.

You can explore grottos and caves, sit in romantic arbors, or promenade
through leafy _allées_ lined with statues, copies from the antique
and Thorvaldsen’s masterpieces. If you long to spend a few surplus
öre, there are open cars rushing like a whirlwind down one hill and up
another much like a roller toboggan; merry-go-rounds with boats furnish
you the motion of the Baltic and the sensation of sea sickness on a
limited scale, or you can take a cruise on a diminutive steamer up and
down a contracted lake; you can gaze upon the fat woman, the living
skeleton, or the double-headed girl, peep through a camera obscura,
shoot at glass balls, and blow to test your lungs. There is everything
for all classes, for this is the great and original Tivoli, which has
many imitators, in Germany and other European countries, but still
rem