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Page 23
That is admirably said, but not at all advantaged by subsequent
re-statement in something like fifteen verses. The colossal egotism
of the notorious criminal, however, provides him with a conclusion
oleaginous enough for a scaremonger of our own day, with a confusion
of _summject_ and _ommject_ very much after his heart. "O God," he
whines--
O God receive me, from pain relieve me,
Since I on earth can no comfort find--
To stand before thee, let me, in glory,
With poor Maria and sweet Caroline.
I should like Sir Conan Doyle to treat of this modest proposal in a
present lecture.
LANDNAMA
I have been reading in _Landnama Book_ the records of the settlement
of Iceland and can now realise how lately in our history it is that
the world has become small. At the beginning of the last century
it was roughly of the size which it had been at the end of the last
millennium. It then took seven days to sail from Norway to Iceland,
and if it was foggy, or blew hard, you were likely not to hit it off
at all, but to fetch up at Cape Wharf in Greenland. It was some
such accident, in fact, which discovered Iceland to the Norwegians.
Gardhere was on a voyage to the Isle of Man "to get in the inheritance
of his wife's father," by methods no doubt as summary as efficacious.
But "as he was sailing through Pentland frith a gale broke his
moorings and he was driven west into the sea." He made land in
Iceland, and presently went home with a good report of it. He may
have been the actual first discoverer, but he had rival claimants, as
Columbus did after him. There was Naddodh the Viking, driven ashore
from the Faroes. He called the island Snowland because he saw little
else. Nevertheless, says his historian, "he praised the land much."
Such was the beginning of colonisation in Thule. It was accidental,
and took place in A.D. 871.
But those who intended to settle there had to devise a better way of
reaching it than that of aiming at somewhere else and being caught in
a storm. What should you do when you had no compass? One way, perhaps
as good as any, was Floki Wilgerdsson's. "He made ready a great
sacrifice and hallowed three ravens who were to tell him the way." It
was a near thing though. The first raven flew back into the bows; the
second went up into the air, but then came aboard again. "The third
flew forth from the bows to the quarter where they found the land."
It was then very cold. They saw a frith full of sea-ice--enough for
Floki. He called the country Iceland, and the name has stuck. They
stayed out the spring and summer, then sailed back to Norway, of
divided minds concerning the adventure. "Floki spoke evil of the
country; but Herolf told the best and the worst of it; and Thorolf
said that butter dripped out of every blade of grass there." He was
a poet and his figure clove to him. "Therefore he was called Butter
Thorolf."
The first real settlers were two sworn brethren, Ingolf and Leif. They
went because they had made their own country too hot to hold them,
having in fact slain men in heaps. This had been on a lady's account,
Helga daughter of Erne. They had gone a-warring with Earl Atle's three
sons, and been very friendly until they made a feast afterwards for
the young men. At that feast one of the Earl's sons "made a vow to get
Helga, Erne's daughter, to wife, and to own no other woman." The vow
was not liked by anybody; and it was not, perhaps, the most delicate
way of putting it. Leif in particular "turned red," having a mind
to her himself. These things led to battle, and the Earl's son was
killed. Then the sworn brethren thought they had best go to Iceland,
and they did; but Leif took Helga with him. They left their country
for their country's good, and for their own good, too.
Having found your asylum, how did you choose the exact quarter
in which to settle? The popular way was that adopted by the sworn
brethren. "As soon as Ingolf saw land, he pitched his porch-pillars
overboard to get an omen, saying as he did so, that he would settle
where the pillars should come ashore." That was his plan. If it wasn't
porch-pillars it was the pillars of your high seat. Either might be
the nucleus of your house; both sets were sacred things, heirlooms,
symbols of your worth. You never left them behind when you flitted.
Another plan, and a good one, was to leave the site to Heaven.
Thorolf, son of Ernolf Whaledriver, did that. He was a great
sacrificer, and put his trust in Thor. He had Thor carven on his
porch-pillars, and cast them overboard off Broadfrith, saying as
he did so, "that Thor should go ashore where he wished Thorolf to
settle." He vowed also to hallow the whole intake to Thor and call it
after him. The porch-pillars went ashore upon a ness which is called
Thorsness to this day, as the site of the shrine Thorolf built is
still called Templestead. Thorolf was a very pious colonist. "He had
so great faith in the mountain that stood upon the ness that he
called it Holyfell;" and he gave out that no man should look upon it
unwashed. It should be sanctuary also for man and beast, a hill of
refuge. "It was the faith of Thorolf and all his kin that they should
all die into this hill." I hope that they did so, but _Landnama Book_
doesn't say.
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