THINGVALLA.
Independently of the beauty and natural curiosities of the spot, Thingvalla is so associated with the early history of the Norse people, its government and its laws, that it deserves a longer notice here than has been given to any other of our halting-places.
We had descended into the 'Almannagja' by a steep rocky causeway made between cloven rocks, and reached the narrow islet where, in times gone by, when feudal despotism was the only government acknowledged, the chiefs of the Island met to regulate the affairs of state. Whenever it might have been that the volcanic eruption which had shivered the rocks into their present fissured condition had occurred, it had left this spot so surrounded by deep crevices as to render it impregnable, save by the rude causeway which connected it with the exterior level. This plain was, as already recorded, chosen by the founders of the first Icelandic parliament for their sittings. At the upper end of the plain, we were shown the stone seats which the principal legislators and judges occupied during[p. 108] their deliberations. Not far from here lies also the 'Logberg,' or 'law rock,' a large mound from whence the laws were proclaimed or judgments given to the people who assembled on the outside slope of the eastern wall of the rift, in view of the proceedings below. Our notice was likewise directed to the 'blood stone,' on which, for certain offences, the criminals were condemned to have their backs broken, after which barbarous punishment they were hurled backwards, and fell into the chasm below.
In Lord Dufferin's 'Letters from High Latitudes,' he thus describes this spot:—
'Long ago—who shall say how long—some vast commotion had shaken the foundations of the Island, and bubbling up from sources far away amid the inland hills, a fiery deluge must have rushed down between their ridges, until, escaping from the narrower gorges, it found space to spread itself into one broad sheet of molten stone over an entire district of country, reducing its varied surface to one vast blackened level.
'One of two things must then have occurred, either the vitrified mass, contracting as it cooled—the centre area of fifty square miles must have burst asunder at either side from the adjoining plateau, and sunk down to its present level—leaving the two parallel gorges, or chasms, which form its lateral boundaries, to mark the limits of the disruption; or else, while the lava was still in a fluid state, its upper surface became solid, and[p. 109] formed a roof beneath, while the mother stream flowing on to lower levels, left a vast cavern into which the upper crust subsequently plumped down "and formed this level plain."'
For three hundred years did the little republic of Iceland hold their parliaments within this romantic precinct, three hundred years of remarkable independence, but during which period Paganism and spiritual darkness prevailed throughout the Island. In the organisation of the first 'Althing,' priestly power predominated, no less than thirty-nine priests having seats. During the early settlement of Iceland, the land was divided into four quarters, each quarter sending its quota of priests to parliament, while each priest thus nominated a member of the Althing, was accompanied by two retainers, or assessors, as they were termed. Inclusive of the President, the Log-men, and its numerous sacerdotal representatives, the members of the Althing are said to have numbered 145 persons.
As we stood by these time-honoured rocks, where in long ages past ancient Norse chieftains had promulgated their laws, we tried to conjure up the scene,—the rocky entrance to this weird spot, guarded by stalwart Norsemen, the stern senators and law-makers sitting in deep thought, or occupied in stormy debate, while the crowd of interested spectators looked down from the stony platform above. We wondered that although these grand old times of feudalism had passed away, no enterprising artist had been found to transfer to canvas[p. 110] an historic record of such deep interest, and thus make the scene live again in modern times.
It was in the year 1000, on the 4th of June, that Iceland abandoned Paganism, and accepted Christianity. This great change was principally brought about through the instrumentality of a Pagan priest named Snorri, who, while travelling in Christian lands, had been converted, and on his return had pressed his new convictions on the people of Iceland. Many of these accepting his tenets caused quite a division in the Island, and the Althing was summoned to take into consideration the new views which had been introduced.
Snorri was invited to address the assembly, and explain the principles of his new-found faith. The members of the Althing listened with great attention, evidently much impressed with what they heard, for Snorri spoke with the enthusiastic zeal of a fresh convert.