Tent life with English Gipsies in Norway

by Hubert Smith

THE THREE GIPSIES.

“Once three gipsies did I behold;
In a meadow they lay,
As my carriage heavily rolled
Over the sandy way.

“In his hands, as he sat alone,
Fiddle and bow held one,
Playing an air with fiery tone,
In the glow of the evening sun.”
Alfred Baskerville.

COLONEL SINCLAIR—QVAM CHURCH—DEATH OF SINCLAIR—MONSIEUR LE CAPITAINE—THE HIGHFLYER—THE HEDALS—ROMANTIC LEGEND—ANTIQUE MANSION—THE KRINGELEN—KIND RECEPTION—WARM WELCOME—THE BROKEN TENT-POLE—THE REINDEER HUNTER—THE RUDANE FJELDE—GIPSY-LOOKING WOMAN—MORE FISH—CHIROMANCY—ESMERALDA’S FORTUNE—THE HANDSOME CAPTAIN—HIS SPORTING ADVENTURE—ESMERALDA’S GIFT—OUR SOIRÉE DANSANTE—GIPSIES’ GLEE.

The next morning was fine, but dull. We were up at half-past 1 o’clock, and decided to try the artificial minnow. The trout we had seen the day previous served up for the captain’s dinner no doubt occasioned the resolution.

The Logan was close at hand. Esmeralda’s soup was warmed up for frokost. Our things were afterwards all carried down into the main road. Noah went for the donkeys to load them, and we fished along the Logan to Qvam. How still and quiet all appeared at Storklevestad, Viig, and Qvam! Not a soul stirring! As we fished towards Qvam, we saw inscribed on a large stone on the road side near the river— Her blev Skotternes anfœrer
George Sinclair
Begraven efterat
Han var falden
ved Kringelen den
26 August,
1812.[48]

Our fishing resulted in the loss of our artificial minnow, no sport, and we put up our tackle. The Qvam churchyard on the right of the road was near us. Our party had not come up. Then we strolled round the church which, as usual, was built of wood, with very large porches. Flowers had been placed on one grave. It is here that Col. George Sinclair is buried. In 1812, Col. Sinclair landed on a farm near Veblungsnœs, in Romsdalen, in command of nine hundred Scotch troops. They marched towards Sweden to aid Gustavus Adolphus against Christian IV. King of Denmark.

At a hill called the Kringelen, beyond Qvam, near Solheim, the peasants rolled down large quantities of rocks on his troops, who were either crushed to death, drowned in the river below, or killed by the peasants who attacked them when in disorder. Only two are said to have survived.

We have never seen any minute particulars of the tragic end of this military expedition. It is said that a young lady, hearing that one of her own sex was with the Scotch, sent her lover for her protection. Unfortunately, as he approached, Mrs. Sinclair mistook his object, and shot him dead.

The other Scotch and Dutch troops, who landed at Thronjhem, reached Stockholm, and helped the Swedish King to conclude advantageous terms of peace. What became of Mrs. Sinclair, we do not know; or where the Scotch soldiers were buried. The colonel seems to have been a bold and daring man. The Norwegian peasants gave their enemy a quiet resting place in the pleasant churchyard of Qvam, and his melancholy history is another illustration of the uncertainty of human hope.

Soon after 6 o’clock Noah, Zachariah, and Esmeralda came up with the donkeys. Noah was limping along very lame. In taking one of the donkeys to be loaded, the animal slipped over a rock and fell across his leg. Noah walked with difficulty, and was very sleepy—in fact, when we had left Qvam, and the sun became warm, we could scarcely keep our eyes open as we pushed on along the road as fast as we could for several miles.

At a turn of the road, some distance from Qvam, we saw a number of men without uniform marching towards us. Zachariah was at first rather frightened. The men advancing took up nearly the whole of the road.

Our friend, Monsieur le Capitaine, was marching at the head of his men, who were going to their periodical militia training. We were looking out to see which side the road to take, when Monsieur le Capitaine opened out his men right and left, and we passed through their centre, which afforded them ample opportunity of observing our cavalcade.

“Bon jour, Monsieur Smith,” said the Captain; “pleasant journey.”

We also wished him “bon jour,” and with mutual salutations each passed on our different routes.

They were a very fine body of men—an army of such men, properly handled, need not fear any other soldiers on equal terms. Had the opportunity permitted, we should have enjoyed a visit to one of their militia camps.

It was very warm. Zachariah played his violin along the road in advance; Esmeralda and Noah were very sleepy and tired, and we were not disinclined for a halt. For some time we could not meet with a convenient resting-place; at last we came to a delightful valley. There was the open macadamised space on the roadside, with wooden bench considerately placed for the convenience of travellers. The same accommodation might with advantage be adopted in England. Then there was a small space of broken greensward, sloping from the road, where we could light our fire. A large bondegaard below, near the River Logan, gave us the impression of contentment and comfort. It was a charming valley.

As we came up to the wooden seat we observed a curious-looking man, who the gipsies said was some travelling “Highflyer.” The man was reclining on the the open patch of greensward near the seat; his wallet was beside him, and he was smoking his pipe—who knows? he was probably experiencing more enjoyment than the most wealthy millionaire.

The donkeys were soon unloaded. Noah went down to get some water at the farmhouse, and shortly returned with the “vand” (Nor., water). A woman and a boy brought up some grass for the donkeys, and she afterwards offered us the use of some rough ground above the road for the donkeys to graze in. The offer was accepted, for the herbage was very scanty on the roadside. Our water was soon boiled, and we had tea, bacon, and bread. Taking out the packet of tobacco given up by Noah, we gave some to the Highflyer. It is not surprising that Noah was reluctant to part with it. Printed on the outside of the packet we observed the following— Petum optimum supter solem,
De beste Tobac onder de Son;
Der beste Toback under solen
Af C. Andersen,
Lillehammer.

The Highflyer seemed much pleased. The sun was exceedingly warm, and, placing some rugs in the scanty shade of some rocks on the opposite side of the road, Esmeralda fell asleep. The woman brought us some milk, and, finding it impossible to write, we gave way to inclination and indulged in a good sleep. Noah and Zachariah went to the river fishing, and Zachariah caught four not very large trout. Then we woke up and worked at our notes.

A young farmer, a fine young fellow, his wife, and son and daughter, came up. The young farmer had been at our camp near “Storklevstad”; they brought up fresh grass, and were very attentive. The “Hedals” rose above us, with snow still remaining on the higher ridges.

Not so very far from this point, across the mountains, is the “Ridderspranget” (the Knight’s Leap). Tradition says that a knight of Valders wooed a young lady of Lom. The friends did not favour the lovers’ wish. The knight, at last, mounted on a swift horse, carried the lady off, and, being closely pursued by the friends, jumped a wide chasm, and escaped with the girl of Lom, for whom he had risked so much. The spot, which is between two lakes, still goes by the name of the “Ridderspranget.”

Esmeralda, probably owing to the heat, did not feel well. Before we left, Noah and Zachariah played for the people of the bondegaard, who had been so attentive, several tunes with the violin and tambourine. The Highflyer went towards Qvam.

At 3 o’clock—having presented the good woman with a mark, and the children with three skillings each—as they gave us their kindly wishes, we again continued our way. Noah had added four more trout to our stock, so that we had now eight fish for the evening’s meal. We were all very sleepy, but kept on with much perseverance. Zachariah, who rode on one of the donkeys, fell asleep and his hat fell off, and then he dropped his violin in the road, but both were picked up. After we had passed Dengarden—so we made out the name—Noah was so sleepy that he became a straggler; his legs almost refused to serve him, and we at last lost sight of him at a turn in the road.

A very interesting house on the roadside attracted our attention. We understood the name was Nusamberg; it had the appearance of an old mansion. Though constructed of wood, its massive timbers gave it structural solidity; extensive granaries and outbuildings surrounded the house, and one portion of building was surmounted by a kind of cupola with a large bell. If it had been in England we should have taken it for an old manor house.

Noah did not overtake us, and we went back, expecting that he had fallen asleep on the roadside; at last we saw him in the distance, walking slowly along, with difficulty getting one leg before the other.

As we came in sight of “Breden,” which stands near a lake, our party were at once perceived. A boat pushed off in hot haste across the lake with a number of peasants to see us. When we entered the small village of houses grouped on either side the road, great was the excitement. People ran hastily up to see our donkeys; a pony in a “stolkjœrre,” or light cart, turned restive, and occasioned much confusion. Our donkeys ran against one another, and our things becoming entangled, the packs were nearly pulled to the ground.

At last, when we were clear of the village, Noah and Zachariah were sent to a landhandelri[49] to buy butter and bread. The young man at the shop had been at our camp at Qvam. They could only get fladbröd and butter.

The steeps of the Kringelen, memorable for the destruction of Col. Sinclair and his soldiers, were passed. The spot had been well selected by the Norwegians. Then we came in sight of Sels. Having risen early, we were all tired and hungry. At this juncture, seeing a woman driving some cows from the road, we asked to camp on some rough broken ground above the house. A quiet spot was selected, where, undisturbed by visitors, our tents were pitched. Looking down upon the narrow valley, it was delightful to enjoy the repose of a quiet evening. Few were permitted to come near our tents. Our donkeys had, as usual, their admirers, but they were few and select. The woman brought us a bowl of milk whilst we were at tea.

We were up at seven o’clock next morning. After a quiet breakfast, Zachariah caught four trout in the river. Giving these kind, homely people some music and two marks, our party left Sels in the distance.

The scenery during the morning was very picturesque, and coming to a portion of newly-made road we halted in a recess of broken ground at the bottom of a wooded hill, near a log cottage. One of our gipsies went to the house for water, and the woman kindly offered to boil it, but this we did not require.

As we were taking our lunch we became the subject of much interest to the road men and some boys; to some of the men we gave tobacco. After the meal our gipsies played their music, whilst we lounged, looking at the beautiful scene before us. The road men appeared to enjoy themselves quite as much as we did—they sat on the roadside, smoking their pipes and listening.

It was not long before we were en route, and being still in sight of the river Noah and Zachariah were sent to fish. Esmeralda and myself made the best of the way with the donkeys towards Laurgaard. Great improvements were being made upon this part of the road; in some places the road was diverted and the distance shortened—sometimes we had to change from the old road to newly made portions, and then back to the old road not yet altered. At every place the peasants flocked out to see us. One place we especially remember as being near a wild gorge leading to the mountains from the valley. An old man gave us such a kindly hearty welcome to his land that we presented him with some tobacco.

In passing a narrow part of the old road one of our donkeys ran against the Puru Rawnee, and the baggage becoming entangled my tent pole was broken through. It was very annoying. At last we came in sight of the Laurgaard. A peasant who had walked with us some little distance, and who seemed desirous to aid us as much as possible, was asked if we could find a camping-ground on the other side Laurgaard. He shook his head.

We had just passed some picturesque rocks; the river Logan was on our left, the rocky slopes of the mountain on our right. Our peasant pointed to what appeared to have been an old road, now disused, a short distance above us along the hill side. The old roadway formed an admirable terrace of flat ground for our tents. Our donkeys soon struggled through the bushes and broken rocks to the spot we selected, and were then unloaded. Several peasants appeared at the place, and also a Norwegian officer. Our first care, as the gipsies unloaded our things, was to splice our tent pole, which we did with a flat piece of wood we had found en route, and some waxed string carried with us. Our proceedings were observed with great interest as we pitched our tents. The visitors increased, and we promised to give them some music for dancing after we had finished our tea. Immediately after tea, as the peasants assembled at close of eve, our guitar, violin, tambourine, and castinets broke the stillness of the Norwegian valley. On this occasion we had two beaux of the village instead of one. The old road being level was well adapted for dancing. There were several peasant girls, whose quiet and modest manners were very pleasing. One beau was a light haired young man who borrowed a friend’s shoes to dance in. The other beau was a slim-slam, away-with-care sort of young fellow, who had the appearance of “un vrai chasseur,” an intrepid reindeer hunter. He was a good-looking fellow, carried hard sinew and muscle, well-proportioned, moderately tall and strongly knit, wiry and active, wore very large capacious trousers, and strong Wellington boots. A hunting knife hung by his side, and a close-fitting shirt and small cap lightly stuck on his head completed his attire. He held himself very erect, and danced in a stiff, jerky, jaunty style. We had the usual complement of children, in many and various kinds of tattered garments. The peasants seemed to enjoy themselves. Esmeralda danced with her brother, and we also took her for partner; but the half-hour is ended, our visitors leave as the rain commences. We had very heavy rain in the night.

Ourself and the gipsies were up at 4 o’clock, and went fishing. The river Logan near our camp was interspersed with pools and shallows, and appeared very likely in appearance for fish. The bridge at Laurgaard is said to be 1000 English feet above the level of the sea. We must confess that Noah and ourself returned without fish to breakfast. Directly the meal was concluded Noah and Zachariah were dispatched to the river again. A fine-looking old man came to see our tent after breakfast. He wore a red cap, and said he was a great fisherman. We found him full of information. His sæter was on the Rudane Fjeld, where he said there were many reindeer; in summer the weather was beautiful. The old man came often during the day, and we bought some trout from him, and also from several peasant boys, who immediately they caught a fish brought it up to our tents.

In the read below we noticed a curious dark little woman accompanied by a middle-aged man, a tall young woman without shoes or stockings, and two young boys. They carried their effects apparently for sleeping and cooking. Directly they saw the donkeys they came towards our camp. The boys tried to touch our donkeys, but the young woman held them back, and one was smartly cuffed. When the elder woman reached our tents we at first thought she was a gipsy. Her complexion was very dark, and she had black hair; she had pleasing manners, but in person she was very short, with small hands and feet, and a peculiar redness round the eyes, as if from smoke. Esmeralda tried her in Romany, but she could not speak it. She was very probably a Lap. The others of her party seemed to hold her in great respect. She carried a courier bag suspended to a girdle, exactly similar to the one we bought in the Valders, and of which an engraving is given in this book. We gave her some brandy and the man some tobacco, upon which she opened her bag, and in the politest manner possible, offered us two skillings, which we did not accept. Every now and then as she looked at our tents and then at the donkeys grazing near, she smiled and bowed in an ecstasy of pleasure, raising her hands often, saying “Nei, nei!!” in a sweet plaintive voice. Esmeralda asked if she told fortunes, and she said yes. It is probable that she did not understand the question. She offered to sell Esmeralda a ring, but she did not require it. As they left they lingered again near the donkeys. The old lady seemed in raptures with them. One of the boys again made a sudden attempt to touch one, and was dragged away by the younger woman as if his life was in jeopardy.

They at length left and slowly disappeared through the rocks at a turn in the road beyond the camp. Noah and Zachariah caught several fish during the morning. The fish were fried for dinner with the usual accompaniment of tea. We scarcely knew whether we dined early or late, both meals were so much the same. From time to time travellers passing along the road suddenly pulled up when they saw our tents and donkeys, and getting down slowly made their way up to our camp. The donkeys seemed, as usual, to excite a wonderful amount of interest.

We had finished our mid-day’s meal. Noah and Zachariah had gone to the river to fish. Esmeralda and myself were sitting in our tents; the gipsy girl was occasionally rockering Romany whilst we wrote our notes. Then the thought occurred to her that we should tell her fortune.

“Your fortune must be a good one,” said we, laughing.

“Let me see your hand, young woman, and your lines of life.”

We shall never forget Esmeralda. She looked so earnestly as we regarded attentively the lines of her open hand. Then we took her step by step through some scenes of her supposed future. We did not tell all. The rest was reserved for another day. There was a serious look on her countenance as we ended, but reader, such secrets should not be revealed—say what we will the hand carries the same language as those thoughtful lines on your face, or the conformation of your head. It is not all who can interpret them. Though we do not believe in chiromancy and ghosts, how many in the world do. We do not say such things are impossible; there are warnings, forebodings, and presentiments at times too strong to be doubted. There are curious facts noted which cast singular light upon these links between two worlds. Instances of spirit travel are given. The open pages of nature reveal strange things. Pliny, Scott, Byron, Johnson, Wesley, and Baxter[50], seem to have been imbued with some belief in the supernatural. We know not what it is; we call it superstition. When we express our unbelief, somehow there is often an inward consciousness to belie our words. Surrounded by much that is false, there may be some reality. We halt on the threshold of indecision. One thing is certain, there is a dark mysterious veil across man’s future in this world. Will it profit him to raise its folds? We think not.

Esmeralda commenced to tell our fortune; we were interested to know what she would say. We cast ourself on the waves of fate. The gipsy girl raised her dark eyes from our hand as she looked us earnestly in the face.

“You are a young gentleman of good connections; many lands you have seen; but, young man, something tells me you be of a wavering disposition.”

We looked up, and a Norwegian peasant stood close by; we had not heard him approach. He was at the entrance of our tents in puzzled contemplation; we lost the remainder of our fortune.

Not very long afterwards, we were sitting in our tent, when Esmeralda, who was looking out, said, a “Boro Rye’s a vellin.” We went out; an English officer was coming to our tents; he was travelling from Throndjhem to Christiania. His name was one of a family renowned in Scottish history. Our visitor was very good-looking, and seemed much interested in our camp. Seeing our tents from the read, he came up to inspect them; a heavy shower of rain coming on, he accepted our shelter, and reclined in our tent with Esmeralda and ourselves. The carriole driver sat at the entrance. Our visitor informed us that a friend and himself had been out with a pony, tent and provisions, upon a fishing expedition, on the Tana. It did not appear that he remained long with his tent, for we understood him that his friend had been unwell and they soon returned. The country of the Tana seemed to please him very much. We gave our visitor some results of our practical experience in camping, as he sat waiting for the rain to cease; in truth, he seemed in no hurry to continue his journey. One of our gipsy songs was presented to him as a souvenir of his visit; then we purchased some trout from the Skydskarl, for one mark, eighteen skillings, very fine ones they were, and had been caught in a lake. Esmeralda presented the captain with a “pinthorn,” used to fasten the blankets of our tents. This present, which he told Esmeralda he should keep, was placed carefully in his pocket-case. In making the expedition to the Tana he had taken out a tent from Throndjhem with a pole in the middle and pieces stretching out from centre.

Our gipsy tents were carefully inspected, then our waterproofs, pockets, bags, and other things. The method of pitching our tents was explained. Before he went he gave us a bottle of brandy which he did not want, and promised to inquire if anything had been heard of our lost caps. His driver, we thought, was under the impression that the captain would take up his residence with us. Noah came up as our visitor was leaving. The rain cleared off, and, wishing us good-by, he was soon driving rapidly towards Christiania. Our visitors continued, successively, until tea time. For our tea, we had more fried trout. An old man brought us a quantity of fladbröd and butter, for which we paid tenpence. Wire was procured at Laurgaard to suspend our boiling-can and kettle over the fire. The loss of our kettle-prop put us to much inconvenience. At eight o’clock, the peasants, notwithstanding the rain, came to our camp for dancing; fortunately, the rain ceased, and they seemed to enjoy themselves very much. One tall, powerful, middle-aged peasant, who came with our visitors, was very fond of dancing. He was, apparently, the respectable owner of a gaard in the neighbourhood. Though very anxious for Esmeralda to dance with him, she would only dance with ourself or Noah. Then he asked us to dance with one of the young peasant girls, probably, a daughter, or some relation, which we did. She was the best dancer; a very good type of the Norwegian peasant-girl, tall, quiet, modest, and good-looking; we found her an excellent partner. Our beaux of the village kept up the dancing and the gipsies their music. “Lend me your shoes” must have put his friend to some expense for repairs, and “Slim-slam,” the reindeer-hunter, nobly did his duty. We were almost bewildered at times. It was hard work to control the exuberant spirits of our gipsies. The amount of Romany chaff was something extraordinary. Fortunately, our visitors did not understand it, nor do we think the gipsies understood much of it themselves. Their gaiety knew no bounds. Esmeralda once laughed loud enough to frighten the reindeer from the Rudane Fjeld. She had more than one severe doing, as she called it, during the evening.