As the “marking book” of the last century was M. Mallet’s “Antiquities,” so there are three which distinguish the present age. The late Mr Benjamin Thorpe’s “Edda of Sæmund the Learned”[283] (London: Trübner, 1866) is a text-book of Scandinavian mythology delighting Icelanders by the literal rendering of their classical poem; it must be familiar to the student before he can attack the difficulties of Skjáldic song. The second is the “Story of Burnt Njal,” etc., by George Webbe Dasent, D.C.L. (2 vols., Edmonstone & Douglas, Edinburgh, 1861). The introduction is the work of a scholar; the translation rivals Lane’s “Arabian Nights,” in fidelity, picturesqueness, and, withal, sound old English style, and the maps and plans well illustrate the topography. It has sent one, it will send many an English tourist to gaze upon the Lithe-end; and it will serve as an example how such books should be treated. But the magnum opus of the day, the greatest boon to students yet known, is the “Icelandic-English Dictionary” (3 vols. fol., Macmillan & Co., 1869, 1870, and 1874).[284] Based upon the MS. notes of the late Richard Cleasby, under whose name, as is his due, it is referred to in these pages, the work was enlarged and completed by the first of Icelandic philologers, Mr Guðbrand Vigfússon, M.A., formerly one of the stipendiaries of the Arna-Magnæan Library at Copenhagen. The herculean task has been completed after the patient toil of nine years (1864-1873), and all credit is due to the delegates of the Clarendon Press, who “generously fostered this Icelandic Dictionary and made it a child of their famous university.” The introduction, by Mr Dasent, awards high praise to the work, but nothing that he can say is too high.
Iceland is not in want of maps; almost every traveller has contributed his own, and hence the atlases have borrowed a variety of blunders. The most interesting of the older sort are those of Hendries (Jodocuf, A.D. 1563-1611), which shows a curious acquaintance with certain fodinæ sulphureæ; and of Pontanus (A.D. 1631) Auctore Giorgio Carolo Flandre. The latter displays Hekla, the towering cone of our childish fancies, vomiting a huge bouquet of smoke, while it ignores all other volcanoes. The islands are especially incorrect: the “Westmanna seu Pistilia (for Papyli?) Eijar,” fronted on the main by “Corvi Albi,”[285] are out of form and measure; the archipelago called I. Gouberman (Gunnbjörn Skerries?) off the north-western coast, does not exist; and Grimsey has dimensions which are strange to it. As in all of them; the north is placed too high; the Arctic circle traverses nearly the centre of the island, the furthest septentrional point being N. lat. 68° 15´. The eastern shore is also laid down too far west (E. long. Ferro, 10°): hence, as Barrow shows, Arrowsmith’s map of 1808 was sixty-seven miles wrong in the longitude. Henderson supplies Krísuvík with a non-existing inlet upon which foreigners have counted for embarking their sulphur, and reduces the vast Mýrdals Jökull to the Kötlu-gjá fissure.
Shortly before the time when Henderson travelled, several Danish officers, detained in Iceland by the war with Great Britain, began an exact trigonometrical survey, not only of the coast, but of the interior; and their bench-marks still crown many a conspicuous point. Their names, well remembered by all Danes upon the island, were the “Herr Officeerer,” Major Scheel, Lieutenant Westlesen, and Landmaler (surveyor) Aschlund. After 1820, the work was carried on by Captain Born, Lieutenant (afterwards Captain) W. A. Graah,[286] R.N., an adventurous sailor, and a scientific officer, who died about a dozen years ago. Between 1820 and 1826 the following five sheets were published:
1. Snæfellsjökull to Cap Nord, in 1820, by Frisch, Westlesen, Smith, Scheel, Born, and Aschlund.
2. North Coast, in 1821, by Majors Ridder and Scheel, and Captains Frisch and Born.
3 and 4. South Coast, in 1823, by Scheel, Born, Graah, and Aschlund.
5. East Coast, in 1824, by Olsen, Born, Graah, and Aschlund.
The general chart of 1826, uniting these “trigonometrical, geographical, and hydrographical surveys,” is, according to Mr Alexander Findlay, F.R.G.S., carefully executed, and became the basis of all subsequent issues.
Unfortunately, it is the local fashion to ignore these scientific preliminary labours,[287] in favour of Professor Björn Gunnlaugsson’s large map, which was executed after a comparatively running survey, during the twenty years from 1823 to 1843, and which, after being drawn up by the late Major Olsen, was printed at Copenhagen in 1844. The title is Updráttr Íslands á fjórum blöðum (in four sheets) gjörðr að fyrirsögn (executed under the direction of) Olafs Nikolas Olsen, gefinn út af enu (published by the) Islenzka Bókmentafèlgi. The scale is 1/480000, about six or eight miles to the inch. The four-sheet edition has three different tintings—one physico-geographical, the second administrative, and the third hydrographical, giving soundings, etc. In London it costs £2, 2s.; at Reykjavik, $9 (=£1). There is a portable edition, a single sheet (1/960000), of two kinds, physico-geographical and administrative, costing six or seven shillings. The third or smallest size, prefixed, with sundry alterations, to these pages, costs one shilling at Reykjavik.
Of miscellaneous cartography we have the following: Dr Heinrich Berghaus’s “Physikalisher Atlas,” Verlag von Justus Perthes, Gotha, 1852; Colton’s “Atlas of the World,” New York, 1855; Hr Kiepert’s “Allgemeiner Hand-Atlas der Ganzgen Erde,” Weimar, in Verlage des Geographischen Atlas, 1873; and the excellent “National Atlas” of Keith Johnston (sen.).