The picturesque group at the altar of the church takes one back to the Middle Ages: the bride resplendent in costume—in some cases quaint to a degree, especially in Sætersdalen—with the old silver brooches, rings, and pendants of generations long gathered to their fathers; the bridegroom also, most likely, in costume, with his best man close by to look after the bridesmaid; in the centre, the Elizabethan ruff, pure white as in Queen Elizabeth’s time, thrown vigorously up by the sombre black gown, renders the priest a prominent figure; while perhaps a ray from the sun, descending on the group, shines upon the bride at the very moment when that ray only is wanted to complete the pictorial effect of the grouping and its surroundings. The verger, or clerk, with his long red pole—the functionary described in a former chapter—is not on active service to-day to awake the sleepers; in fact, the congregation seems rather inclined to turn the tables and wake him up. The church floor is, as usual, strewn with juniper tips, and after the ceremony the bride and bridegroom start home. Walk, ride, drive, or boat—that depends on the distance and character of the road to be traversed. They are all picturesque: the water, however, carries the palm, and, as we have before remarked, the whole scene causes one to revert to early days, before carriages were used, or roads were uninviting for travel, and when locomotion was a difficulty.

A Bridal Party crossing the Fjord.

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The Wedding.

What an evening it was, “the bride’s return!” As usual in Norway, you cannot go far without crossing a fjord: this the bride had to do. A twenty-oared sea-boat was her water carriage. What peace—what colour—what harmony! Was it typical of her future married life? A zephyr just filled the broad sail, the large prow rearing grandly in front, with a huge bunch of flowers and green things innumerable on the top; then a large flag and more flowers at the mast-head; and the rowers every now and then bursting out into a refrain, which as one leaves off the other takes up. And how these Norsemen do row—always together! It is generally allowed, by men of experience in Norway, that so long as the rower is not too “arch-fiended” to sit up, he will always keep time with his oar. The dip of the oars in the calm is delightfully refreshing, and the regular sweep gives an idea of power. Fun is going on at the other end of the boat; for the bride is there on a raised seat, with the bridegroom, supported by their friends. The second boat is being left behind, so the kander-man is holding a large silver tankard to encourage and at the same time joke them. Doubtless a spurt will be put on after this, and another race commenced for the run home; or they may just stop for one more skaal (the bride’s health), and when they have once commenced, be undecided as to going home.

Drinking Horn in the Collection of C. Hampden Wigram, Esq.