IN all climes and in all stages of civilisation a wedding is an object of special interest, and is likely to bring forward some traits of national character. The bride is always the great attraction, of course, whether plain or old—not that any bride should ever be plain, however uncomely featured she may be, for on that day of all others, the spirit should shine through the clay, with every hope of happiness before her; and if there be happiness in the world, surely it must be when the bride becomes the better-half of him she loves. Let us, then, attend a Norske wedding.

Weddings are not now as they used to be in the “good old days,” when knives and winding-sheets were a part of the programme—when grim rehearsals of the “Grapplers” were frequently repeated, and two combatants, with one belt round the two waists, grappled and struck until one was vanquished. No; Scandinavian ferocity is subsiding; they think more now of “bleeding” their foreign visitors, and the weddings are sobered down; but the arch-fiend of inebriation tightens his grip, and Norwegian weddings in the provinces are characterized by deep libations and their wretched consequences. Now, having noticed the worst feature of these Northern domestic gatherings, let us turn cheerily to the brighter side of them.

Naturally costume immensely assists a ceremony like this, and should the bride not have old silver enough of her own, everybody is ready to contribute towards the general result, and is only too glad to do anything in his power to add to the brightness of the occasion. In Norway the bride wears a silver crown, which varies a little in form according to date, the most modern crowns branching out all round more than the older ones. The silver crowns are generally made with hinges, four or six in number, so that they may fold up into a small space for carrying in a tine, or box. The oldest forms are silver-gilt; the more recent are partially gilt, some parts being left bright silver. The bride also wears a thick curb chain, with a medal, which is sometimes set in filigree-work; but in the case under notice the medal was one cast with a fine bust of Nelson. Tidemand, the Norwegian genre painter, has portrayed many scenes of the “Bride preparing to start,” “Dressing the Bride,” &c.

The procession to the church is generally all-important. First comes the fiddler, next the kander or tankard man, then best man, bride and bridegroom, fathers, mothers, sisters, brothers, friends, relations, and many others—all the children of the place swarming round the church door. We should observe that there is a stolid immobility about some of the Norwegian piger which seems to become intensified on these occasions; but when they do melt there must be a great overflow of spirit and reaction.

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.

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.

One thing is a comfort, at all events; all through the country there is strong evidence of family affection, and these weddings are only the beginning of a new era of happiness. In Thelemarken, as we have already had occasion to remark, one custom is for the bridegroom to elaborately carve the stabur, or family treasure-house, with excellent designs and cunning work, which he effects with his tolle-knife; and another is to carve good mottoes on the large beds and over the doors of the rooms. The following are some from Thelemarken district, that quaint land of short waists, shoulder-blades, and white jackets—a land abounding with grand old conscientious work; huge timbers made into solid houses; no hurry-skurry, no slurriness, no giving as little as possible for wages received—real good timber-work; while inside may be found carved chests, some of them family treasures handed down for generations. Motto over bed, carved in: “This is my bed and resting-place, where God gives me peace and rest, that I may healthy arise and serve Him.” Over the entrance to a house: “Stand, house, in the presence of our Lord, assured from all danger, from fire and theft. Save it, thou, O God; bless also all who go in and all who go out here.” The ale-bowls, too, have good mottoes: “Of me you must drink; but swear not, nor ever drink too much.” This motto we would recommend to the licensed victuallers of England, as good for their “pewters.” Another drinking-bowl: “I am as a star unto you, and all the girls drink of me willingly.” Another: “Taste of the fruit of the corn-field, and thank God from your inmost heart.” This one again: “Drink me forthwith, and be thankful, for I shall soon be no more.” These, we say, are good sentiments, and worthy of note; and they must be the outcome of deeply rooted honest hearts, anxious to benefit not only those about them, but those who may follow.

When the bride returns home there are great doings, with firing of guns, and, as we have before observed, libations and dancing; the latter doing good and giving pleasure, the former, to say the least of them, producing the next day what is known in Scotland as the “blacksmith’s hammer on the forehead.”

What a contrast to a Norwegian wedding, carried out with all its details, is the modern civilisation of being married before a “Registrar”—a process which must be sudden death to sentiment, and destructive of all the sacred associations so closely linked with the solemnity of marriage in Norway! Marriage takes time. The Lutheran Church has two distinct services or ceremonies, which conduce to the steady-going of the young people concerned, and tend to develop prudent and careful living. There is first the betrothal, and then the wedding. Circumstances decide the particular period between the two events—one year generally, sometimes two or more; in any case the betrothal is a good preparation for the responsibilities of married life, and certainly works well. One thing is beyond denial—it affords an opportunity to discover latent objections and bad habits, which might not crop out all at once while the lover is offering a concentrated essence of courtship. By the betrothal system a girl enters upon a certain and marked position, being as it were an aspirant to the honour and dignity of marriage; and this training has generally a most wholesome effect. The same system is likewise carried out by the provincial peasants, though these simple folk are sometimes a little impatient of the second ceremony; but the law of Norway has alleviated any difficulty which might arise from such impetuosity, and taken the same status as that of Scotland.

The wedding festival will frequently last a week—early and late. It is not “What a day we are having!” but “What a week we are having!” The home love of the people is prominently shown on occasions like these; their simple affection and general kindliness can only be the outcome of tenderness and sympathy in their every-day life, when the mothers are so motherly, the fathers so fatherly. No “iceberg dads” are to be found in Norway; they are more like the stoves which every one gathers round for comfort when the chills of life are likely to be forthcoming. And the priest comes out strongly on these occasions, for, as we have previously noticed, he is a part of every family; he shares the troubles of the flocks, and enhances their joys. He is no kill-joy; on the contrary, he enters into all that is going on, joins in the songs, is generally convivial at table, and is not shy of tobacco; he is, in fact, a practical, genial Christian, and consequently does good service to the cause he represents and to his flock.

We now come to the last ceremonies of the Church, only remarking on our way the very great importance attached by the Lutheran Church to confirmation. In this the Church does well, and sows good seed at the right time—seed which is to be the joy of riper years and the backbone of posterity.

A Norwegian funeral is surrounded by an unwholesome atmosphere of intense melancholy; hope and faith seem trampled down for the moment by the weight of present grief. The Norwegians certainly do not look upon the arrival of the reaper who puts in the sickle as the “order of release” from the trammels of our lower state. Perhaps their intensity of feeling is a certain relief from which they rebound to a lighter burden in after-life. Their quiet, secluded life encourages this; the very sombreness of the country develops it; and the almost oppressive grandeur of the scenery sustains it; while the absence of birds with joyous song certainly adds to it.

Funerals in this country take many forms. First, in towns, for plump, portly burghers, as well as for men of note in letters, politics, or art, there is the old form of coffin chariot, with cock-hatted driver, the horses clothed in all the panoply of funereal darkness, the road sprinkled with juniper or yew twigs, the Death’s head blended with a flame rising from the urn as decoration; the latter the only cheerful, hopeful thought in the whole arrangement. We regret to add that, like weddings, funerals are characterized by heavy libations. As to military obsequies, they are much the same in all lands, and therefore we need say nothing concerning them. And now, away from towns and cemeteries, to the more simple method of taking farewell of passing spirits and lifeless clay.

During the visit to Indfjord a description was given of the funeral of Ingeborg, a good pige swept away by a landslip. How full of sympathy the good folk were; how the finest breed of blakken was brought, with the best carved collar the district could produce, to honour her last remains! And in another place we referred to the more common occurrence of the coffin being placed on a stolkjær. During the winter, in some of the most inaccessible farms, such as the Geiranger, where there is no landing-place, the body is kept until spring. This seems protracted agony; but there is the balance of nature—no decomposition. In the less-frequented rivers a solitary boat may sometimes be seen, containing a funeral party unattended, their sorrow self-contained and unshared by others. The opposite woodcut illustrates a touching incident—a bonde and wife taking their “only one” to God’s acre. This is secluded life intensified. Their little one—their treasure and delight, their pet lamb—was called home, and they had to take it to its resting-place. The poor mother may have borne up bravely, but the sight of the churchyard in the distance was too much for her, and at last she gave way and sobbed over the coffin. But when she arrives the priest with kindly voice and deep sympathy will comfort and cheer her. Little, however, will they talk as they row back, with their hearts full and their home empty. None but those who have had an only one called away can realise the blank—their “sunbeam” gone. The grave-boards bear simple and pious inscriptions. We append a few here.

LINES ON GRAVE-BOARDS.

TRANSLATED WORD FOR WORD FROM THE ORIGINALS.

ELL OLSDATTER HOEL.

I was old and weary of my days, and my last footsteps were heavy; but thanks be to Jesus for his mercy, He opened my eyes so that I saw danger was near. In much trouble I must sing. Jesus is always present, and does not take his hand from us. At last I found the well from which my comfort ran.

INGRID LEDINGSÖIEN.

To children and friends! is Jesus Christ’s cry: Come, see I come; mourn therefore but with hope.

Farewell. I depart. The sorrow you now taste must in love take place. God himself will guard you so that we shall soon without complaint meet before his throne.

OLE GRÖDAL.

To my Father I go home; there is rest and quiet; and I know for certain there is also a dwelling there for me prepared. Hear my sigh, Lord, and keep my spirit in thine hand.

OLE WINNEVOLD.

Away from the world I fly full of trouble home to rest. I am ready to travel when my sweet Jesus will.

GUNDER GRÖDAL.

Seven times ten and four years was the goal the Good God had decided for us in our journey home; our mutual mother is earth. There, in the silent home of the grave, ends our last journey. Farewell then, friends, far and near. I wish every one in particular a good end.

LÖKEN.

INDRE LÖKEN.

Now have I triumphed by the blood of the wounds of Jesus. I have found my God, and gladly go to heaven.

The home life of Norway is very simple throughout: in summer, the perfect enjoyment of the short but bright season; in winter, spinning, weaving, and sledging. The absence of rudeness—the modern term “chaff” is unknown—the “even-manneredness” of the people in all classes, must strike a stranger. Whatever may be the class of society, there is always the same kindly politeness. No double set of manners, as civilisation brings about; no rudeness to inferiors, or fawning to superiors; the equal distribution of this world’s goods, combined with innate kindliness, prevents this. No unkindness, for they are tender to all dumb animals, and that is an undoubted sign of sterling worth. And yet, with all this, what jolly little things the children and young folk are! They will make the most charming little curtsey, and then go off, children to the core. A good innocent romp, how they enjoy it! The young girls, too, are so natural, perfectly easy, and well behaved, that it is refreshing to be with them. Nothing prim or starched about them, but good hearts, with the bloom of youth. Their dances, too, how they enjoy them; and then a song, with a chorus from the whole company, and another dance! Capital housewives these Scandinavian maidens should make, for even the fröken, or young girl of position, carries out all the household duties of home, and enters into the real work of life with the greatest earnestness, being mistress of every detail, and yet the most charming of God’s work—a natural lady. N.B.—The Patriarch did not lose his heart in Gamle Norge; that was safely at home in the good care of one who has monopolized it ever since he was a boy.

Norwegian housekeeping is so totally different from anything we have that it will be well to note it here. The wife has greater responsibility and requires more forethought than with us. There are no co-operative stores to which to send a long list; no one calls for orders, or solicits the favour of custom; no inviting circulars or enticing advertisements create an appetite for new purchases, and make one believe that superfluous things are absolutely necessary, and must be had. Nor does the husband go to town every day, and bring back anything the dear wife has forgotten. Her mental powers and good management must be equal to getting everything in before the winter arrives, not for the family only, but for the labourers also; and all this perhaps on slender means, sparse harvests, and bad seasons. In this respect, therefore, if for no other, the betrothal system comes in well, affording the young couple plenty of time for the acquisition of a thorough knowledge of what their new position may necessitate.

There is one thing, however, Norwegians do not comprehend, and that is the blessing of ventilation. They cannot understand it, and certainly never practise it. Their rooms are stuffed up in every conceivable way. As soon as the cold weather begins the internal atmosphere of the house remains unchanged until the following summer. When you open the door you have to cut your way in; it is as dense as cold turtle, and less agreeable. The marvel is that colds are not more prevalent, from the fact that the good folk wash their necks on Saturday afternoon as a preparation for the Sunday, when they dress in their best, and look like different creatures.

WE are drawing near to the end of our tether, and much as we love home, there is not the same buoyancy about the return, however happy or successful the trip may have been, as there is about the start; for the latter is an important event, teeming with hope and expectancy, from the couleur-de-rose descriptions of friends who have preceded us, and who have heartily enjoyed the recapitulation of their adventures, narrow escapes, and temporary deprivations. But it is very different with the end of a journey. There is something of the Ichabod in it; and yet we know not why there should be; for if it has been one of danger, we ought to be thankful that it is over; and if, on the contrary, it has been productive of pleasant associations, we should still be thankful, inasmuch as it will prove a bright spot to fall back upon and refresh ourselves with when wearied in after-life. So we will not be depressed at the end of our trip to Gamle Norge; we would rather think of all the kindnesses of the people, the grand scenery of the coast, the combinations of sea-rock façade and snow, and learn a lesson of contentment and Christian love from the bönder and their happy families.

Having overcome this very natural feeling of regret that our holiday is over, let us, in conclusion, notice a few leading characteristics of the country which have been unnoted as we passed through it. Its geology is most characteristic, while in variety of climate it stands alone. Its wood-carving, too, has great individuality; and so has its old silver.[6]

Let us, then, take a general view of the geological formation. Any one specially interested in this subject should study the “Geologisk oversigtskart over det Sydlige Norge,” 1858 to 1865, by Theodore Kjerulf og Tellef Dahll; but for others a general idea will suffice.

1. Gneiss predominates in the Romsdal and Sneehættan districts; also north and south of Sogne fjord, running down to the entrance of Hardanger.

2. Granite predominates in the south in large areas up to the Vöring Fos, and in detached portions in Vestranden towards Trondhjem. Christiansand is granite.

3. Sparagmit fjeldets (Norske) is found in Central Norway. This is a comglomerate of red sandstone, and sometimes called red and grey sparagmite.

4. Trondhjem quartz in the north, really hard schist: not found south of the Dovre fjeld.

5. Syenite and porphyry round Christiania.

6. Labrador stone occurs west of Lindernæs, in the south, at Ekersund on the west coast, below Stavanger, round the Galdhopiggen (the highest point in Norway), and north-east of Fortun, in the Sogne fjord.

The whole of this surface bears record of the immense extent and effect of the glacial period of Norway. The valleys show the glacial set as distinctly as does the tide in large rivers, the greatest attrition and scoriation being in the concaves going down. Huge bastions of rock[7] have been rounded and ground down by constant attrition, and vast terraces of sand, at the end of each valley, are the result of this attrition accumulating for ages. It would be very interesting to analyze and find the component parts of these immense deposits. Certain it is there is no natural sandy soil above, and, as we have before mentioned, when reindeer-hunting, we have found huge boulders of thirty or forty feet at an elevation of 5,000 feet, with smaller ones of a different formation resting on them. Now all this has been brought about by the influence of the gulf stream: when the gulf stream took this course the glacial period ceased in Norway. That epoch none can tell. It will be sufficient to notice the result, which is this: when the polar current from Spitzbergen runs down the west coast of the Atlantic, and produces the great fogs off Newfoundland, the gulf stream, driven up from the Gulf of Florida by the force of the great caldron of the equator, strikes on to our west coast and the coast of Norway, running up to the North Cape; in fact, the only timber to be obtained there is the drift wood from the West Indies; and at Hammerfest casks of palm oil have been washed up from Cape Lopez Point, in Africa. In Iceland, too, as Professor Ericker Magnussen informs us, the bridges are made of mahogany. Not that bridges are frequent in that country; but those which they have are made from the logs washed up there. This accounts for the variety of temperature which the two boundaries of Norway—the gulf stream on the west, and Sweden on the east—present. For instance, though Bergen and Christiania are in about the same latitude, the average temperature at the former is 46° 8´ and at the latter 41° 5´; the summer average is about the same; but in the winter months Christiania is often 13° colder than Bergen. Hence there may be skating at Christiania while there is none at all at Bergen, where the average annual rainfall is 72 inches, which, by the way, is lower than that in our English lakes.

The mean temperature at North Cape is 32°, the greatest cold arising from north-east winds. Thunder-storms occur in winter, while west winds cause dense fogs.

At the conclusion of Forbes’s “Norway” will be found a most interesting map, with isothermal lines passing through those places which have the same temperature in the months of January and July; and it is very striking to notice that the July temperature of the north of Ireland and Edinburgh is maintained through Norway as far as the Arctic Circle, when it begins to deflect to the eastward, where the gulf stream’s influence ceases.

Again, the waterfalls are a great feature of this country. Some one has depicted Norway thus , and the Alps thus . There is much truth in this. The valleys running down to the fjords produce immense precipices, down which rush the many waters of the high plateaux of 3,000 or 4,000 feet; and in some parts these falls are strengthened by the waters of the vast stretch of sneebræden, or snow-fields, of which the Justedal and the Folgefond are the most extensive.

The casual observer, looking at the map of Norway, would think it well populated, but a few years ago its inhabitants numbered hardly more than one-fourth those of London and its suburbs.[8] The names on the map frequently represent mere stations, farms, præstegaarden, or rectories, and villages are seldom seen. As in Scotland, the farmer takes the name of his land. In fact, Norway and Scotland are very closely allied to each other in many respects.

From the Runic downwards, the wood-carving of Norway stands alone for distinctive characteristics, and is still carried on in every variety by means of the simple national tolle-knife, which is ready for everything.

The lintels and carvings of the staburs, or store-houses, in Thelemarken have been already shown, but the most interesting specimens are found in churches, where the tortuous lines are full of originality and power of design. Serpents are ever-present and ever-varying, the museums being rich in specimens of this ecclesiastical class of work. Wood, and birch especially, is used for every kind of domestic utensil, and ornamentation is very generally introduced. Some of the old horse collars are beautiful, and are sometimes painted; tankards are richly carved; spoons profusely so; and on some occasions the bridegroom, if he be very expert, prepares a double spoon for the bride and himself, wherewith to eat their porridge simultaneously. Drinking bowls, salt-boxes, mangel stoks, are all carved; and this art is much encouraged by the long winter evenings.

The old silver of Norway is so large a subject that a series of illustrations would be necessary to do justice to the matter; but its day is fast passing away. The peasants and fishermen have found new outlets for their earnings, and the time has gone by when they wondered what new thing they could have made in the precious metal; in fact, electro-plate is now invading Gamle Norge. May the bönder select the blessings of civilisation and eschew its evils! May their home happiness and love be ever-increasing, and the kind welcome which we have so often experienced never decrease in heartiness! For a time farewell!