We were still at some distance from the “Poet’s House.” Ole signalled for a boat. In the distance we could see some figures near the house, apparently watching our party. They were probably puzzled, as to who we could be, issuing forth in early morning, from the wild recesses, of Melkedalstinderne.
Two boats came to the shore where we were. All our baggage was placed in one; we handed Esmeralda into the other. Ole, Noah, and Zachariah started off on the donkeys to ford the river, and round the upper bend of the lake to the “Poet’s House.”
The boats glided on the smooth water of the lake. The sun gilded the lofty mountains on either shore; all quietude, peace, and contentment. The Norwegian poet has well chosen, thought we, this charming seclusion from the world.
Our boats rounded the promontory past the “châlet.” Two ladies, and three gentlemen were near it; some were seated, watching us as we came near. They were making use of a large telescope.
Our boatmen landed at some little distance past the “Poet’s House” on the beach of the promontory,—a sort of inland bay. As we came to the shore, we noticed a man seated near a hut, whisking a leafy branch over some dark looking pieces of meat, hanging from a line. We afterwards found it was rein-deer meat, being dried in the sun. The man was keeping the flies off, while the meat was being dried for future consumption.
Our baggage was all safely deposited on a pleasant slope of ground, not far from the rein-deer hunter’s hut. We had a good View of the “Poet’s House.” Ole, and Noah, and Zachariah soon joined us. Our boatmen were well satisfied with one mark. Noah and Zachariah had got their legs wet in crossing the river, but Ole had the forethought to take off his stockings, before he rode into the stream.
The history of the “Poet’s House” appeared to be as follows:—The wooden cottage, which consists of two small rooms only, cost 100 dollars, Norwegian money, or about 20l. English. The poet, Aasmund Olafsen Vinje, joined with others in the cost of erection. When the poet was required to pay 25 dollars, his stipulated share, he was unable to do so. He had certainly more than 25 pence, but he could only spare 5 dollars. This was certainly better than the man who owed 465l. 4s. 6d., and offered his creditor the 4s. 6d. Poets, somehow, are seldom wealthy. We have occasionally bright exceptions. Vinje was not one. To release the poet from his difficulty, it was agreed that he should mortgage his interest in the house, and write a mortgage in poetry for the sum. Vinje did this. The mortgage deed in poetry, will ever remain, a curious, and interesting association, with the “Poet’s House” on the Bygdin lake.[108]
Our experience does not enable us to give a single instance of any of the English lawyers writing a mortgage in poetry. The only instance we know of any legal document being written in poetry, in England, is the will of Sir Willoughby Dixon, of Bosworth Park, Leicestershire. It was written by himself. United to the refinement of the scholar, there is often a sharp, sound, practical hitting the-right-nail-on-the-head sort of ability, among the country gentry of England. A manly vigour of intellect, united to an intense love of honourable dealing, and fair play, in all the affairs of life.
A rein-deer hunter, a friend of Ole’s, soon afterwards came to us. He was a tall, spare, keen man, and brought some rein-deer meat up in a small wooden tub. We were afraid to buy more than one piece; the weather was hot, and the meat would not keep long. Another reason for not buying more rein-deer meat was, our chance of obtaining fish at the Tyen Lake, which we expected to reach the same afternoon. Our fire was soon lighted. One of the gentlemen from the “Poet’s House” came up. The gipsies were very busy preparing our dinner. A young Norwegian gentleman, who wore a uniform tunic and trousers of green cloth, came to our camp. He was fair and prepossessing. Amiability was written in his countenance, without looking in his hand. He spoke some English. After our meal, it was arranged we should pay himself and friends a visit at the “Poet’s House,” where they were staying. Tea, fried rein-deer, pickled walnuts, and fladbröd, formed our repast. A short man, in a leather jacket, trousers, and cap, came up, and we paid him sixteen skillings for the rein-deer meat.
Skeaker was before us. Resolving in our mind to go without our gipsies to the “Poet’s House,” we left them to pack up and load the donkeys, whilst we went with Ole to visit the poet’s retreat.