A Yacht Voyage to Norway, Denmark, and Sweden / 2nd edition

by William A. Ross

The largest open place is the market, and that is not so large as Covent Garden. The streets are a little better paved than those of the more southern capitals of the North, but are not of greater width than Coventry Street, or St. Martin's Lane; and, being unlighted by gas, it is difficult at night, should it prove rainy and dark, to keep out of the gutters. At the point where four streets meet, you may generally observe a well, and around this well a knot of idlers, men and women, congregate and gossip, leaning against its palings; but the respectable portion of the inhabitants are never to be found in the streets, although they may be seen, on summer evenings, walking on the terrace of the fortress.

To one looking from the sea, the fortress is on the left of the town, and was the first object we caught sight of when sailing up the Fiord. It is valueless as a place of defence; and I do not think it has been of any service to the Norwegians, except when Charles XII. attacked Christiania; and, then the Swedish monarch would have battered the town to atoms, had not his attention been distracted by wars on the other frontiers of his kingdom. There is a hill on the right, nearly double the altitude of that on which the fortress is built; and an enemy, making himself master of that spot, has the citadel under his feet, and may amuse himself by rolling stones into the town.

Running parallel with one part of the Fiord, and from the quay to the castle, is a raised terrace, broad enough to admit of fourteen or fifteen people walking abreast; and here, on the Sabbath summer's afternoon all the beauty, youth, and fashion of Christiania resort. It is sheltered on one side by a row of lime-trees, and, on the other, the cool air from the waters of the Fiord struggles to refresh the languor of a sultry evening.

In gangs of two and two, with drab slouch hat and jerkin, having one side of a darker colour than the other, and reaching half way down the body, the prisoners are led from their penal den, within this fortress, to their appointed toil. There were many old men among these culprits; and their great age rather sought and met with sympathy, than excited detestation of the crime that had brought them to servitude; and, perhaps, it would be a wiser enactment of the Norwegian Government to forego the system of task-work thus publicly, and adopt some other method of punishment less exposed to the popular eye; for, I believe, the spectacle of an old man submitted to daily penal labour, and burdened with clanking chains, is recognised by the public more with a tendency to sympathise with his fate, than to condemn his crime.

While viewing the fortress, we were shown a large cannon, which was captured, it is said, by the Norwegians from Charles XII. when he besieged Christiania; but the real history of the cannon is, that it did certainly belong to the Swedish army; but, Charles, as I have hinted before, being obliged to raise the siege of Christiania to march with his troops elsewhere, many field-pieces, as being too cumbersome to move with celerity, were abandoned, and, among the number, this cannon was left on the heights above Christiania. The Norwegians, when Charles and his army had disappeared, scaled the summit of the hill; and, with much laudable perseverance, succeeded in removing the huge piece of ordnance to the fortress; and two sentinels ever keep guard over it, placed in a conspicuous position over which the Norwegian ensign waves, and point it out to the stranger as a trophy of the Norwegian army.

Contemplating, as we stood round the cannon, the broad expanse of the Fiord, and the distant blue mountains dissolving with the sky, a low building, like a powder magazine, arrested our attention; for numerous sentinels moved rapidly in every quarter round it, and many brass guns, ready primed, and bearing an earnest signification, flashed in the bright beams of the morning sun. In this dungeon, from which Beelzebub himself could not escape, it seems a notorious highwayman, called Ole, is confined. During the time he was master of his limbs and liberty, he struck such terror into the hearts of his countrymen, that he was imagined an immortal fiend. No prisons could hold him; and the magistrates were compelled to trust to his forbearance, and not to bolts and chains; but his depredations, at length, became so glaring, and increased, year after year, to such magnitude, even to the sacking of the bank, that, come what might, Ole was arrested. Fearful of his supernatural strength and devilish craft, his captors deemed no common dungeon sufficiently secure; and this miserable abode, a pandemonium above ground, bomb-proof, and proof against every thing else, was erected for the sole reception of Ole; and, lest he should burst asunder the stone walls, he is surrounded by alert sentinels and loaded guns, and here doomed to drag out the rest of his existence.

To the east of the town there is a road, which may be seen girdling a mountain's barren side, and, following its track a mile, or so, I took then a narrow foot-path, and, wandering through a forest of firs, reached a circular green sward where, in the middle, the remnant of some natural convulsion, a gigantic black stone lay. Seated there, I beheld the whole city of Christiania crouched at my feet; and, far as the eye could travel, the mountains rose one over the other, till my vision ached, and mistook their aspiring peaks for the azure heaven. On the left hand, serenely sleeping, wound, amid a thousand green islands, the leaden-hued Fiord, bearing on its quiet surface a fleet of lazy ships, whose white sails made them look, at distance so remote, like snowy swans, or froth from neighbouring rapid.

The sun had just sunk behind the mountains when I reached the spot; and, throwing myself on the grass, I watched its light, like a gold cap, blazing around the lofty summit of a mountain, rearing itself above the rest, and not less than forty miles distant to the north of the hill on which I reclined. The evening was calm as it was clear. The cathedral bells below had thrice told the approaching third hour before midnight, when I heard the voice of some one singing, in the monotonous, drawling, but melodious tone of prayer; and, at last, as the fitful evening zephyr stirred uneasily, I could distinctly catch the soft intonation of a female voice; and, whatever woman she was, she sang a sweet and touching melody.

There was no hut, or building of any kind at hand, so that I was perplexed to tell whence the voice came. I was not long in doubt. A young girl, walking quickly, with a light step, and bearing in her hand a bundle of dried sticks, came forth from the heart of the pine-forest. The moment she saw me her song ceased, and she stood still.

She wore, sitting rather back upon the head, a crimson cotton skull-cap, leaving exposed her fair high forehead. A boddice of white linen was attached from her waist to a dark blue petticoat, hemmed with scarlet cloth, which descended to her ankle, but not to such undue length as to conceal her little naked feet, peeping out, like white mice, from beneath. Her silken, fair hair flowed uncontrolled over her right shoulder, off which her boddice, though fitting almost close to the throat, had fallen slightly and left bare; and silver bracelets clasped her wrists, while the image of the Saviour, carved in ivory, was suspended from her neck. A gold ring, antiquely moulded, encompassed her middle finger. She was of the ordinary height of women, and her small mouth, her short, straight nose, her large, joyous blue eye, joyous while yet the clear-complexioned, oval face was clouded with surprise, developed the simplicity, liveliness, and rare beauty of a Norwegian girl.