The sailors, he told me, called him Captain Long-life, because he has been five years in the north without losing a man. His present crew is a hundred, but during that period, he has, one way and another, passed a thousand men through his hands. This happy result he attributes partly to the regular use of lime juice, which he flavours and renders palatable by mixing it with a little brandy or rum. The addition of the spirits adds nothing to its virtue, probably the reverse, but the sailors like it so, and are thus induced to take it. In many ships, he added, the men, if not watched, throw it over their heads into the sea.
A boat came alongside with an invitation from Captain Véron for us also to visit his frigate the Artemise. It has a crew of 250. The men were at mess between-decks; and, both seats and tables being swung, the perpendicular ropes made the whole look not unlike the floor of a great factory. An officer took me over the ship and through the stores. What an immense establishment is a war ship!
The French officers are well paid, and have a handsome allowance per day for mess, over and above their pay. On this station they have double pay, are put to little expense, consequently save money fast, and get leave of absence now and again to go home and spend it. Here we were again offered champagne but declined it; and, at half-past one P.M., were rowed ashore in a ten oared gig, much pleased with the kind frank attentions of all the officers.
When we landed I called for Mr. Sivertsen, and afterwards visited the library with Dr. Mackinlay. The Rev. Olaf Pálsson dean and rector of the cathedral, and Mr. Jón Arnason, secretary to the Bishop and also librarian, were there before us by appointment and kindly gave us every information we required. There were no manuscripts to be seen here older than the fifteenth century, and these were chiefly genealogies, or translations of mediæval tales or romances such as “Charlemagne.” We saw a fine folio edition of Snorro Sturleson’s writings, and hastily looked over the work on Iceland got up by the French expedition under Gaimard. It embraces views of places, natural history, manners and customs, costumes &c. Some views of localities we had visited were very good, but others were inaccurate and careless, being only modified compositions instead of faithful representations of the places indicated. Ere leaving, I received several original little works, in Icelandic, both from the dean and the librarian; those from the former were inscribed in English “with the author’s best respects;” and those from the latter with a legend of similar import in Icelandic.
As the althing or parliament, which ceased to meet at Thingvalla in A.D. 1800, was now assembled here, we went to see it. The place of meeting is an oblong hall in the same building as the college. You enter by the side, and see, facing you, a raised platform where the president and two or three officials sit at a table covered with papers and writing materials. Portraits in oil of the King and Queen of Denmark hung behind them. On two rows of seats, like school forms with simple spar backs, sit the members, forming an oblong square around the table; visitors find places outside this square. There are several writing desks and other conveniencies in the room.
The most of the deputies were sturdy intelligent looking men—peasant-farmers dressed in brass buttoned wadmal jackets, and wearing cow-skin shoes. On rising to speak, many of them expressed themselves in an animated manner, which seemed to us, with the aid of Mr. Brynjúlfsson’s explanations and interpretations, to be at once fluent, pointed, eloquent, and effective.
The population of Iceland is, as already stated, 64,603. Parliament meets every second year, and is composed of a deputy from each of the eighteen syssels or counties into which the island is divided, and six deputies, generally officials, nominated by the King. The members are elected by household suffrage, but, on account of the great distances, and the bad roads, few people care to vote. Dr. Mackinlay mentioned one case, at last election, where a member had only one single vote—and that his own!! This indifference to matters political, as contrasted with the stirring old times when the Althing was supreme—being then both deliberative and executive, “parliament and high court of justice in one”—may be accounted for, by the fact that it does not now possess legislative power. The result of its deliberations is merely a petition to the King, suggesting that certain things should be done; and only under certain circumstances, can they levy taxes or recommend them.
The island is divided into three governments, each government being in civil matters quite independent of the others. The governor or stiftsamptsman who resides at Reykjavik, is at the head of the civil administration, “conducts all public affairs, presides in the supreme courts of justice, watches over the execution of the laws, the collecting and expenditure of the public revenue, and, along with the Bishop, directs the school, and appoints the clergy” throughout the whole island. The governor is sometimes a native of the island, though oftener a Dane. “He continues in office five years, with a salary of about £300 per annum, and is entitled to promotion on his return to Denmark. Under him are the amptmen, of whom there ought to be four, but as the governor holds this office in the southern province, and the northern and eastern are united, there are only two others. These have the superintendence of the inferior officers, and nearly the same duties in their province as the governor exercises in relation to the whole island. Subordinate to them are the sysselmen or sheriffs, nineteen in number, who are empowered to hold courts, appoint justices of the peace and notaries, and to administer the laws concerning inheritances. They are chosen by the crown from among the principal proprietors in the district. Under these are the hrepp-stiorar or bailiffs, who assist the sheriff in preserving the peace and public order, and have at the same time, the charge of the poor.
“All causes civil and criminal, come in the first instance before the sysselman in the Heradsthing, one of which is held regularly, once in twelve months, though extraordinary sessions are also called. This court consists of the sheriff as judge, with four assistants named meddomsmen. The landfoged or steward, who is receiver-general of the island, and police-master of Reykjavik, holds a similar court in that town. From their decision there is an appeal to the highest tribunal, instituted in A.D. 1800, on the suppression of the althing, and which consists of the governor as president, who takes no part in the proceedings, a chief-justice, two assessors, a secretary, and two public pleaders. Cases are here decided according to the native laws, or Jonsbook, introduced in A.D. 1280, and the latter royal ordinances; and from their judgment the last appeal lies to the supreme court of Copenhagen. The high moral character of the people renders the last court nearly a sinecure,—not more than six or eight cases, public or private, occurring annually. The crimes are mostly sheep-stealing and small thefts, and the only punishments inflicted in the country are whipping or fines. Those condemned to hard labour are sent to Copenhagen; and a peasant, being capitally convicted many years ago, for murdering his wife, it was found necessary to carry him to Norway for execution.
“The taxes collected in the island, being very inconsiderable, impose little burthen on the inhabitants. They are principally levied on property according to several old customs; and payment is chiefly made in produce of various kinds, which is converted into money by the sysselman, and transmitted, after deducting a third for his own salary, to the landfoged or treasurer. The whole amount does not exceed 50,000 rix-dollars, and does not even suffice for the support of the civil government of the island.”[[17]]