CHAPTER XVI.
NORWAY.
STOCKHOLM.--STORY OF THE HERO KING.--UPSALA.--NORWAY.--CHRISTIANIA.-- KING OLAF.--DRONTHEIM.--THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE.
The narrative of travel and history was continued by Mr. Beal.
* * * * *
"Strange is the evolution of cities.
"We are about to glance at Stockholm. Let us go back in imaginationsix hundred years.
"There are some rocky islands in the Baltic, at the foot of thenorthern peninsula. Sea birds wheel above them in the steel-gray air;they build their nests there. Storms sweep over these lonely islands;sunlight bursts upon them, and now and then a Viking's ship finds ahaven among them, and scares away the birds.
"Years pass. Fishermen build huts on the islands. Hunters come there.There come also the sea kings. A mixed, strange people.
"They build a village on the holms, or islets. They defend themselveswith stockades, and they found on stocks, or beams, their stronghouses. The growing town rises from stock holms; hence, Stockholm.
GUSTAVUS ADOLPHUS.]
"The years pass, and the sea birds fly away. There are wings of gableswhere once were wings of birds. Stockholm becomes a fortress, and, asin the case of St. Petersburg in recent times, the sea desolationpulses with life and energy, and is transformed into a city. Churches,palaces, gardens, arise. Battles are fought, and here tread the feetof kings.
"The wonder grows. The birds scream far away now. The islands arespanned by bridges. Stockholm stands a splendid city, one of thecrowns of earth.
"The city lies before us. Noble structures, villas, steeples, are seenamong the green trees. The ships of many flags lie together like atown in the sea.
"It is sunset. The tops of the linden-trees are crowned with sunlight,the Gothic windows burn. A shadow falls from the gray sky. Afar flythe white sea-gulls. The shadow deepens. It is night. We are inStockholm.
"Every nation has its hero.
"You have been told how that poor Louis le Debonnaire, the son ofCharlemagne, preferred to win crowns for Christ's kingdom rather thanfor his own. He lost his own kingdom; but the missionaries he sentforth, though at first not successful, were the means of givingChristianity to all the nations of the North.
THE HERO KING OF SWEDEN.
There was born in Stockholm, in 1594, an heir to the Swedish throne, whose influence was destined to be felt throughout the world and to very distant periods of time. The child was named Gustavus Adolphus.
He was educated for the kingdom. At the age of ten he was made to attend the sittings of the Diet and the councils of state. In boyhood he was able to discuss state affairs in Latin, and in youth he was able to speak nearly all European tongues.
He was schooled in the arts of war as well as peace. In early manhood he entered Russia at the head of an army, and compelled the Czar to sue for peace.
After the war the young king gave his whole heart to the development of the industries and institutions of his kingdom. He founded schools, assisted churches, and everywhere multiplied influences for good. Never did a monarch devote himself more earnestly to the improvement of his people, or accomplish more in a short time. His influence for good has ever lived in Sweden, and is felt strongly to-day.
He was an ardent Protestant. The Catholic powers of the South and the Protestant powers of the North had become very hostile, and war between them seemed impending. In this crisis the Protestant leaders looked to Gustavus Adolphus as the champion of their cause.
In 1630 Gustavus called a Diet in Stockholm, and reported the danger that was threatening the Protestant states of Germany, and which would involve Sweden unless checked. He announced that he had decided to espouse the cause of the German princes, and to enter the field. He took his little daughter in his arms, and commended her to the Diet as the heir to the crown.
He landed in Germany on Midsummer's day in 1630. He had an army of fifteen thousand men. It was a small army indeed for so perilous an undertaking. "_Cum Deo et victricibus armis_ is my motto," he declared, and trusting in this watchword he advanced on his dangerous course.
The Imperialists, as the foes of the Reformed Faith were called, were led by Wallenstein. They were greatly superior in numbers to the Swedes and their allies.
At Lutzen the great battle of Protestantism was fought, Nov. 6, 1632.
"I truly believe that the Lord has given my enemies into my hands," said Gustavus, just before the battle.
The morning dawned gray and gloomy. A heavy mist hung over the two armies.
The Swedish and German army united in singing Luther's hymn,--
"Ein' feste Burg ist unser Gott."
Then Gustavus said,--
"Let us sing 'Christ our Salvation.'"
DEATH OF GUSTAVUS AND HIS PAGE.]
"Be not dismayed, thou little flock, Although the foe's fierce battle-shock, Loud on all sides, assail thee. Though o'er thy fall they laugh secure, Their triumph cannot long endure; Let not thy courage fail thee.
"Thy cause is God's,--go at his call, And to his hand commit thy all; Fear thou no ill impending: His Gideon shall arise for thee, God's Word and people manfully, In God's own time, defending.
"Our hope is sure in Jesus' might; Against themselves the godless fight, Themselves, not us, distressing; Shame and contempt their lot shall be; God is with us, with him are we: To us belongs his blessing."
Clad in his overcoat without armor, he mounted his horse and rode along the lines.
"The enemy is within your reach," he said to the allies.
"Swedes," he said to his old army, "if you fight as I expect of you, you shall have your reward; if not, not a bone of your bodies will ever return to Sweden."
To the Germans he said,--
"If you fail me to-day, your religion, your freedom, and your welfare in this world and in the next are lost."
He prophesied to the Germans,--
"Trust in God; believe that with his help you may this day gain a victory which shall profit your latest descendants."
He waved his drawn sword over his head and advanced.
The Swedes and Finns responded with cheers and the clash of arms.
"Jesus, Jesus, let us fight this day for thy name," he exclaimed.
The whole army was now in motion, the king leading amid the darkness and gloom of the mist.
The battle opened with an immediate success for the Swedes. But in the moment of victory the king was wounded and fell from his horse.
"The king is killed!"
The report was like a death-knell to the Swedes, but only for a moment.
The king's horse with an empty saddle was seen galloping wildly down the road.
"Lead us again to the attack," the leaders demanded of George of Saxe-Weimar.
The spirit of the dead king seemed to infuse the little army with more than human valor. The men fought as though they were resolved to give their lives to their cause. The memory of the king's words in the morning thrilled them. Nothing could stand before such heroism. Pappenheim fell. The Imperialists were routed. The Swedes at night, victorious, possessed the field, but they had lost the bravest of kings, and one of the most unselfish of rulers.
"We left Stockholm for Upsala, the student city. The paddles of theboat brushed along the waters of the Maelar; the old city retreatedfrom view, and landscape after landscape of variegated beauty rosebefore us.
"The Maelar Lake is margined with dark pines, bright meadows andfields, light green linden-trees, gray rocks, and shadowy woods. Hereand there are red houses among the lindens.
"We pass flat-bottomed boats, that dance about in the current made bythe steamer.
"The hills of Upsala come into view. The University next appears, likea palace; then a palace indeed, red like the houses; then the gab
ledtown.
"We went to the church, and were conducted into a vaulted chamberwhere were crowns and sceptres taken from the coffins of dead kings.We wandered along the aisle after leaving the treasure-room of thedead, and gazed on cold tombs and dusty frescos.
"Here sleeps Gustavus Vasa.
"In the centre aisle, under a flat stone, lies the great botanist,Linnaeus.
"We visited the garden of Linnaeus, or the place where it once bore theblossoms and fruits of the world. Nettles were there; the orangerieswere gone; the winter garden had disappeared. The place wore adesolate look; the master had departed, leaving little there but theghost of a great memory.
"We left Stockholm for Norway.
CASCADE IN NORWAY.]
"We were landed from the steamer at Christiansand. This sea-port is arude town, and except from the wild, strange expression of both landand sea, which affects one gloomily, yet with a kind of poeticsadness, revealed little to interest us or to remember. There was aLazaretto, or pest-house, on a high rock, from which we felt sure thatno disease would ever be communicated.
LAZARETTO.]
"The scenery of Norway is unlike any other in the world. Take the mapand scan the western coast. It looks like a piece of lace-work, sonumerous are the inlets or fiords.
"These fiords are many of them surrounded by headlands as high asmountain walls. They are little havens, with calm water of wondrousbeauty and with walls that seem to reach to the sky. On a level spotin the mountainous formation, a hamlet or a little church is sometimesseen, one of the most picturesque objects with its setting in theworld."
[The artist can give one a better view of these fiords than anydescription, and he has faithfully done it here.]
THE NAERO FIORD.]
"The mountains and valleys of Norway are unlike any other. Summerfinds them as winter leaves them. Great hills are worn into cones bythe snow and ice. The cataracts are numerous and wonderful. The waterscenery has no equal for romantic beauty and wildness.
"A twelve hours' farther sail brought us to Christiania. It issituated in a lovely valley on the northern side of ChristianiaFiord. It has a population of about eighty thousand. Here are theRoyal Palace and University.
"All of the cities of the North have great schools and libraries. TheUniversity at Christiania has nearly a thousand students, and alibrary of one hundred and fifty thousand books.
"The port is covered with ice during some four months in the year.During the mild seasons some two thousand vessels yearly enter theharbor.
"Olaf, the Saint, the King of 'Norroway,' who preached the Gospel'with his sword,' is the hero of the western coast. I might relatemany wonderful stories of him, but I would advise you to read 'TheSaga of King Olaf,' by Longfellow, in the 'Wayside Inn.'
"His capital was Drontheim, far up among the northern regions, wherethe sun shines all night in summer, and where the winters are wild anddreary, cold and long. It is a quaint old town. Summer tourists to thewestern coast of Norway sometimes visit it. Its cathedral was foundedby Olaf, and is nearly a thousand years old.
* * * * *
"And now in ten nights' entertainments, you have taken hasty views ofGermany and the old Kingdom of Charlemagne. Narratives of travel andhistory have been mingled with strange traditions and tales ofsuperstition; all have combined to give pictures of the ages that arefaded and gone, and that civilization can never wish to recall. Menare reaching higher levels in religion, knowledge, science, and thearts. Kingcraft is giving way to the governing intelligence of thepeople, and superstition to the simple doctrines of the Sermon on theMount and to the experiences of a spiritual life. The age of castlesand fortresses, like churches, is gone. The age of peace and good-willcomes with the fuller light of the Gospel and intelligence. The pompsof cathedrals will never be renewed. The Church is coming to teachthat character is everything, and that the soul is the temple of God'sspiritual indwelling."
The tenth evening was closed by Charlie Leland. He read an originalpoem, suggested by an incident related to him by a fisherman atStockholm.
LAKE IN NORWAY.]
THE FISHERMAN OF FAROE.
When life was young, my white sail hung O'er ocean's crystal floor; In the fiords alee was the dreaming sea, And the deep sea waves before. The Faroe fishermen used to call From the pier's extremest post: "Strike out, my boy, from the ocean wall; There's danger near the coast. Beware of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, Beware of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!"
"O pilot! pilot! every rock You know in the ocean wall." "No, no, my boy, I only know Where there are no rocks at all, Where there are no rocks at all, my boy, And there no ship is lost. Strike out, strike out for the open sea; There's danger near the coast. Beware, I say, of the dunes In the nights of the watery moons, Beware of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!"
Low sunk the trees in the sun-laved seas, And the flash of peaking oars Grew faint and dim on the sheeny rim Of the harbor-dented shores. And far Faroe in the light lay low, Where rode like a dauntless host The white-plumed waves o'er the green sea graves Of the rock-imperilled coast. And I thought of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, And I thought of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blew free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat, And I steered for the open sea, I steered for the open sea.
To far Faroe I sailed away, When bright the summer burned, And I told in the old Norse kirk one day The lesson my heart had learned. Then the grizzly landvogt said to me: "Of strength we may not boast; But ever in life for you and me There's danger near the coast. Then think of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, And think of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!"
"O landvogt, well thou knowest the ways Wherein my feet may fall." "Oh, no, my boy, I only know The ways that are safe to all, The ways that are safe to all, my boy, And there no soul is lost. Strike out in life for the open sea, There's danger near the coast. Then think of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, And think of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!
"False lights, false lights, are near the land, The reef the land wave hides, And the ship goes down in sight of the town That safe the deep sea rides. 'Tis those who steer the old life near Temptation suffer most; The way is plain to life's open main, There's danger near the coast. Beware of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, Beware of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free, Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!"
And so on life's sea I sailed away, Where free the waters flow, As I sailed from the old home port that day For the islands of far Faroe. And when I steer temptation near, The pilot, like a ghost, On the wave-rocked pier I seem to hear: "There's danger near the coast. Beware of the drifting dunes In the nights of the watery moons, Beware of the Maelstrom's tide When the western wind blows free,
Of the rocks of the Skagerrack, Of the shoals of the Cattegat; Strike out for the open sea, Strike out for the open sea!"
THE COAST.]
CHAPTER XVII.
THE GREATER RHINE.
THE RETURN HOMEWARD.--ON THE TERRACE,--QUEBEC.
The Class made their return voyage by the way of Liverpool to Quebec,one of the shortest of the ocean ferries, and one of the mostdelightful in midsummer and early autumn, when the Atlantic is usuallycalm, and the icebergs have melted away.
As the steamer was passing down the Mersey, and Liverpool with herthousands of ships, and Birkenhead with its airy cottages, weredisappearing from view, Mr. Beal remarked to the boys,--
"We shall return through the Straits, and so shall be probably onlyfour and a half days out of sight of land."
"I did not suppose it was possible to cross the Atlantic from land toland in four days and a half," said Charlie Leland.
"We shall stop to-morrow at Moville, the port of Londonderry," saidMr. Beal. "A few hours after we leave we shall sink the Irish coast.Make notes of the time you lose sight of the light-houses of Ireland,and of the time when you first see Labrador, and compare the datestowards the end of the voyage," said Mr. Beal.
Past the green hills of Ireland the steamer glided along, among shipsso numerous that the sea seemed a moving city, or the suburbs of amoving city; for Liverpool itself, with her seven miles of wonderfuldocks, is a city of the sea.
The Giant's Causeway, the sunny port of Moville, the rocky islandswith their white light-houses, were passed, and at one o'clock onMonday morning the last light dropped into the calm sea, fading like astar.
The Atlantic was perfectly calm--as "calm as a mill-pond" as theexpression is, during the tranquillity of the ocean that follows thesettled summer weather. The steamer was heavily loaded, and had littleapparent motion; bright days and bright nights succeeded each other. Aflock of gulls followed the steamer far out to sea. For three days noobject of interest was seen on the level ocean except the occasionalspouting of a whale.
The sky was a glory in the long twilights. The sun when half set madethe distant ocean seem like an island of fire, and the light cloudsafter sunset like hazes drifting away from a Paradisic sphere.
On Thursday morning the shadowy coast of Labrador appeared. The voyageseemed now virtually ended after four days from land to land. Therewere three days more, but the steamer would be in calm water, withland constantly in view.
The Straits of Belle Isle, some six miles wide, were as calm as hadbeen the ocean. The Gulf of St. Lawrence--the fishing field of theworld--was like a surface of glass. The sunrise and moonrise were nowmagnificent; the sunsets brought scenes to view as wonderful as theskies of Italy; gigantic mountains rose; clustering sails broke themonotonous expanse of the glassy sea, and now and then appeared anIndian canoe such as Jacques Cartier and the early explorers sawnearly three centuries ago.
The wild shores of Anticosti rose and sunk.
"We are now in the Greater Rhine," said Mr. Beal to the boys,--"theRhine of the West."
"How is that?" asked Charlie Leland. "Is not the Hudson the AmericanRhine?"
NIAGARA FALLS.]
"It is the New York Rhine," said Mr. Beal, smiling. "The river St.Lawrence is, by right of analogy, the American Rhine, and so deservesto be called."
"Which is the larger river?" asked Charlie.
"The larger?"
"Yes, the longer?"
"It does not seem possible that an American schoolboy could seriouslyask such a question! I am sometimes astonished, however, at theignorance that older people of intelligence show in regard to ourriver of which all Americans should be proud.
"Ours is the Greater Rhine. The German Rhine is less than a thousandmiles long; our Rhine is nearly twenty-five hundred miles long: theGerman Rhine can at almost any point be easily spanned with bridges;our Rhine defies bridges, except in its narrowest boundaries. Thegreat inland seas of Superior, Huron, Michigan, Ontario, and Erierequire a width of miles for their pathway to the ocean. The Rhinefalls cannot be compared with Niagara, nor the scattered islands ofthe old river with the Lake of a Thousand Islands of the new. Quebecis as beautiful as Coblentz, and Montreal is in its situation one ofthe loveliest cities of the world.
"The tributaries of the old Rhine are small; those of the new arealmost as large as the old Rhine itself,--the gloomy Saguenay, and thesparkling Ottawa.
"Think of its lakes! Lake Ladoga, the largest lake in Europe, containsonly 6,330 square miles. Lake Superior has 32,000 square miles, andMichigan 22,000 square miles.
"You will soon have a view of the mountain scenery of the lower St.Lawrence. The pine-covered walls along which trail the clouds of thesky are almost continuous to Montreal."
"But why," asked Charlie Leland, "is the German Rhine so famous, andours so little celebrated?"
"The German Rhine gathers around it the history of two thousand years;ours, two hundred years. What will our Rhine be two thousand yearsfrom to-day?"
He added:--
"I look upon New England as one of the best products of civilizationthus far. But there is rising a new New England in the West, a vastempire in the States of the Northwest and in Canada, to which NewEngland is as a province,--an empire that in one hundred years willlead the thought, the invention, and the statesmanship of the world.Every prairie schooner that goes that way is like a sail of the'Mayflower.'
"In yonder steerage are a thousand emigrants. The easy-going,purse-proud cabin passengers do not know it; they do not visit them orgive much thought to them: but there are the men and women whosechildren will one day sway the empire that will wear the crown of theworld.
"The castles are fading from view on the hills of the old Rhine; townsand cities are leaping into life on the new. The procession of cities,like a triumphal march, will go on, on, on. The Canadian Empire willprobably one day lock hands with the imperial States of the Northwest;Mexico, perhaps, will join the Confederacy, and Western America willdoubtless vie with Eastern Russia in power, in progress, and in theglories of the achievements of the arts and sciences. Our Rhine hasthe future: let the old Rhine have the past."
The Class approached Quebec at night. The scene was beautiful: like acity glimmering against the sky, the lights of the lower town, of theupper town, and of the Castle standing on the heights, shone brightlyagainst the hills; and the firing of guns and the striking of bellswere echoed from the opposite hills of the calm and majestic river.
The Class spent a day at Quebec, chiefly on the Terrace,--one of themost beautiful promenades in the world. From the Terrace the boys sawthe making up of the emigrant trains on the opposite side of theriver, where the steamer had landed, and saw them disappear along thewinding river, going to the great province of Ontario, the lone woodsof Muskoka, and the far shores of the Georgian Bay.
A NEW ENGLAND IN THE WEST.]
NEAR QUEBEC.]
"I wish we might make a Zigzag journey on the St. Lawrence," saidCharlie Leland.
"And collect the old legends, stories, and histories of the Indiantribes, and the early explorers and French settlers," added Mr. Beal."Perhaps some day we may be able to do so. I am in haste to return tothe States, but I regret to leave a place so perfectly beautiful asthe Terrace of Quebec. It is delightful to sit here and see thesteamers go and come; to watch the bright, happy faces pass, and torecall the fact that the river below is doubtless to be the water-pathof the nations that will most greatly influence future times. But ourjourney is ended: let us go."
ON THE TERRACE,--QUEBEC.
Alone, beside these peaceful guns I walk,--the eve is calm and fair; Below, the broad St. Lawrence runs, Above, the castle shines in air, And o'er the breathless sea and land Night stretches forth her jewelled hand.
Amid the crowds that hurry past-- Bright faces like a sunlit tide-- Some eyes the gifts of friendship cast Upon me, as I walk aside, Kind, wordless we
lcomes understood, The Spirit's touch of brotherhood.
Below, the sea; above, the sky, Smile each to each, a vision fair; So like Faith's zones of light on high, A sphere seraphic seems the air, And loving thoughts there seem to meet, And come and go with golden feet.
Below me lies the old French town, With narrow rues and churches quaint, And tiled roofs and gables brown, And signs with names of many a saint. And there in all I see appears The heart of twice an hundred years.
Beyond, by inky steamers mailed, Point Levi's painted roofs arise, Where emigration long has hailed The empires of the western skies; And lightly wave the red flags there, Like roses of the damask air.
Peace o'er yon garden spreads her palm, Where heroes fought in other days; And Honor speaks of brave Montcalm On Wolfe's immortal shaft of praise. What lessons that I used to learn In schoolboy days to me return!
Fair terrace of the Western Rhine, I leave thee with unwilling feet, I long shall see thy castle shine As bright as now, in memories sweet; And cheerful thank the kindly eyes That lent to me their sympathies.
Go, friendly hearts, that met by chance A stranger for a little while; Friendship itself is but a glance, And love is but a passing smile. I am a pilgrim,--all I meet Are glancing eyes and hurrying feet.
Farewell; in dreams I see again The northern river of the vine, While crowns the sun with golden grain The hillsides of the greater Rhine. And here shall grow as years increase The empires of the Rhine of Peace.
University Press: John Wilson & Son, Cambridge.
Transcriber's Note
This book contains some archaic spelling, which has been preserved asprinted. Minor punctuation errors have been repaired.
There is some variable spelling, particularly of place names; this hasbeen repaired where there was a definite prevalence of one form overthe other, but is otherwise left as printed.
Page 12--"Castle at" amended to "Bell Tower of"--"Bell Tower ofHeidelberg 229"
There are two references on page 57 to "Crofe Castle" in Dorsetshire,which appear to be an author error for "Corfe Castle". These havebeen preserved as printed.
Character dialogue sometimes transitions into tales, which do not usecontinuing quote marks. As a result, some closing quotes are omitted,and this has been preserved as printed.
The frontispiece illustration and advertising material have been movedto follow the title page. Other illustrations have been moved wherenecessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph.
The list of illustrations included some captions which were not includedwith their corresponding image in the main text. These have been added.
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