Document 4: Travel Account of Norway

Document 4

Author: Adelia Field Johnston

Title: Travel Account of “Norway.”

Date:  approx. 1888

Location: Oberlin College Archive, Adelia A. Field Johnston Papers, Series III Travel Accounts and Diaries. 1862-1994, Record Group 30/19.

Document Type: Typed Document

Introduction:

Adelia Johnston was an avid traveler, and kept detailed records of her many trips in the form of diaries and travel accounts. She often used these notes to form the basis of lectures which she gave her students, and many felt that it was her first-hand experience of historic locations which allowed her to make history come to life for her students.

The following document contains selections from a travel account she wrote of a trip she took to Norway in 1888 with several friends, including Lucien and Mary Warner¹. This particular account is worthy of note, as it formed the basis for a lecture she gave in the fall of 1888 when she had returned to Oberlin.

In the early days of Oberlin, Thursday evenings saw students and faculty attend a sermon, but as the college developed, this sermon was changed to a secular lecture in an effort to be more engaging. Yet, despite Oberlin’s commitment to coeducation, no women spoke at these Thursday lectures. In the nineteenth century, it was still commonly considered improper for a woman to address an audience that included both men and women, and Oberlin obeyed this unspoken rule. However, Johnston had consistently challenged this ban with her presence; her classes were already becoming perforce co-ed, as men chose to join even her classes meant solely for women in order to hear her speak, and in her classes women and men delivered their recitations together.² Students had already asked to hear her speak at the Thursday lecture, and in 1888 she became the first woman at Oberlin to deliver such a lecture to a mixed audience with her address entitled “Norway and the Midnight Sun.”

The travel account below is the first of at least two written accounts of her trip to Norway, and anecdotally seems to match the speech that was given to the college. Note the way Johnston mixes the details of her travels with historical information, and pay particular attention to the captivating beauty of her writing. Her words here offer at least a hint of her how powerful her lectures could be, and why her skills allowed her to consistently break down the barriers that female educators faced.

Note: As the lecture based off this account was meant to be heard, rather than read, an audio recording of it has been included in this collection, with the account being read by R. Debus. This recording, though based on the following transcription, is intended to offer a facsimile of what this lecture may have sounded like, and is thus edited for clarity, with grammatical errors being corrected, and illegible words or unfinished phrases being filled in by the recorder’s best guess. Therefore, please see the transcription below for an accurate rendering of the document.

Transcription:

… But once having reached the main land, our sea troubles were at an end.³ The narrow [added above in pencil: entire] Western coast of Scandanavia [sic] is lined with innumerable islands, which give quiet inland seas, undisturbed by the storms of the Atlantic. [added in pencil: In these quiet seas we sailed for weeks.]

The physical geography of Norway is interesting. [added above in pencil: The country] It is very long. It is very narrow. Measured by [added above in pencil: along] its Western coast from North to South, without taking note of its indentations, i. e. measured from the North Cape⁴ to the Naze,⁵ it is twelve hundred and fifty miles, while its breadth varies from two hundred and fifty miles, to eighty miles.⁶ Boyeson⁷ says, in his admirable history of Norway, “That in shape this country resembles a long bag thrown over the shoulders of Sweden.”⁸ He might with equal truthfulness ,have [sic] changed the figure and said that Norway was like a beautiful piece of irregular fringe adorning the west coast of Sweden. He might have added that it was heavily embroidered with mountains, having eternal snows for the high lights. [added in pencil: and] The heavily wooded mountain sides and deep valleys for shadows; for Norway is largely made up of tongues of land with interstices of water. These interstices are called fjords.⁹ They are arms of the sea that penetrate to the very heart of the country, and sometimes nearly across it. I remember that once, as we sailed to the end of a fiord, the captain said, “You are now looking over into Sweeden [sic].”

Imagine yourself sailing up one of these fiords. Firss [sic, First] [added above in pencil: There] is a wide stretch of waters; this constantly [added above in pencil: but these suddenly] narrows down to the proportions of a mighty river, but it is a river without a definite current, whose waters rise and fall with the tides. These waters are very smooth. They are very clear. They are very deep. One sometimes shudders as he sails over their quiet waters to see [added above in pencil: Think] how very deep. The Sogna fiord¹⁰ measures four thousand feet. But the shores [added above in pencil: of fjords] do not stretch away into broad plains, for the fiord is [added above in pencil: They are] bounded by mountains.

These mountains sometimes retire somewhat from the waters [sic] edge, and then you have on either side a narrow strip of arable land; or they sometimes slope gradually back from the water’s edge, then you have farm lands far up the mountain side; or they may, and often do, rise sheer from the waters [sic] edge four thousand, six thousand, eight thousand feet. Do not think all [added above in pencil: of] these are [added above in pencil: as] individual mountains rising one after xxxxxxxx [sic] the other. No, the fjord is bounded on either side by a  rocky wall, with irregular peaks at the top. It is as if some gigantic power had cleft the mountain range, and made a highway for the waters.

When the fiord is narrow, –say half a mile– [sic] and the shadows of your sails are deepened by the shadows of the mountains, and the seeming height of the mountains is increased by the reflection of [added above in pencil: in] the clear waters below, the effect is gloomy, but it is grand and majestic.

On the tops of these mountains, and stretching away for miles, are immense fields of snow and ice; and down from these snow fields [sic] come huge glaciers, grinding, crushing, pulverizing their way. Sometimes in their descent they tear from the mountain sides huge blocks of granite and bring them down on [added above in pencil: upon] their surface; and in shaping themselves to the rapid descent of the mountain sides, they are often forced in gapping mouths that hold huge shadows which may be seen for miles. Out from under the glaciers come roaring, and rushing milk-white rivers, that soon fall into the fjords.

But I have not yet mentioned the most attractive feature of Norwegian scenery. Under the influence of the summer sun, these snow fields [sic] send innumerable rivers to the sea. On their way, they fall over the precipitous sides of the mountains. We go to the Yosemite that we may see one “Bridal Veil”;¹¹ we return after the [added above in pencil: a] summer’s vacation in Switzerland,¹² enthusiastic over a half dozen water falls [sic]: but in Norway, one is seldom beyond the sound of falling waters. Now it is a single thread of silvery light, that falls from the mountain top to the valley or fjord below; again, it is a larger stream that falls sheer a thousand feet, then strikes against the sides of the mountain, and is thrown back in many lesser streams; again it is a river that plunges down hundreds of feet, and looses [sic] itself in the [added above in pencil: a] snow banks that hangs on a projecting cliff. It bores its way through, it tunnels its way under, and comes out on the lower side a quiet river. Or the side of the mountain is less precipitous and the waters come down in the form of [added above in pencil: foaming] cascades, just as the waters come down at Ladore.¹³ Again the stream is so small that it loses itself in mid air, and reveals itself only by the disturbance it makes when it reaches the waters below.

There are strange effects produced by hurrying clouds and changed conditions along these battled heights. Sometimes a fleecy cloud settles down upon the mouutain [sic] crest, and hides it from view; then the waters seem to fall over [added above in pencil: from] the clouds. Or late in the afternoon the xxxx [typed above: slanting] rays of the setting sun ,fall [sic] over the Western mouutains [sic] and strike on the opposite wall. Now look at your water falls [sic]. Now here, now there; coming, going, are light spirituelle [sic] rainbows, like uncertain visitors in a dream.

…

At Bergen¹⁴ we found the largest fish market in the world. Bergen is one of the old Hansiatic¹⁵  [sic] towns that even int [sic] the twelfth century, controlled the fish interests of northern Europe. Spain depends upon Bergen for its entire supply of fish, and ships from all parts of Europe are found here during the fish season. It was interesting to see that of those who bought and sold, more than half were women. Perhaps nothing in Norway surprised me so much as the flora. Did not my geography tell me that north of the Arctic circle, vegetation became sparse, flowers disappeared, and that stunted trees, club-mosses, and lichens alone were to be found? But Norway is a paradise for the botanist.¹⁶ Nearly all of the wild flowers [sic] of Ohio grow in Norway.

…

We spent a day at Trondheim. This city is the old Naedros¹⁷ of the middle ages. Lying in the same lattitude [sic] as [added above in pen: Southern] Iceland,¹⁸ it is the last large city passed in going north. It has twenty-two thousand inhabitants.¹⁹ It lies in a rich triangular plain, that is bounded on one side by the Trondheim fjord, and the other by the Nid river.

The valleys of this fjord and its tributaries are among the richest in xxxxxxxxxx [sic] Norway. They are called the Troenderlagen, and the inhabitants are the Troenders. In those olden days, which were the golden days of Norway, before it fell under the rule of the Danes, this was the most populous and wealthy portion of Norway. An ancient chronicler tells us that when tae [sic] Troenders chose any man for king, all Norway chose him for king, because the Troenders were the pith and strength of the nation. There are many indications of this former wealth still to be seen in the old capital city, and not least among these is its wonderful cathedral. Its nave²⁰ has been unroofed for more than a century, and although in ruins, it suffers none in comparison with any cathedral north of the Rhine. It was begun in th[page is torn] memorable year, 1066, when William the Conqueror²¹ invaded England, and changed for all time Anglo-Saxon to Norman-Saxon. Let us remember in this connection that William the Conqueror was William the Norman, whose grandfather was a brave old Viking of Norway. [typed in a faint curving line on the bottom of the page: There were three things that tended to give importance to the cathedral at:]

There were three things that tended to give importance to the cathedral at Trondheim: first, it held the shrine of Saint Olaf;²² one of Norway’s kings had been on a crusade to Jerusalem, and brought back a piece of the true cross; and then, where Saint Olaf’s body was first interred, had gushed a xxxxxxxxx [sic] [typed above: perrennial] fountain, whose health giving waters attracted numberless pilgrims from all of western Europe.²³ These grateful pilgrims left rich treasures at the shrine of Saint Olaf.

In 1100, the Pope sent a legate to Trondheim, who established an archbishopric, and elevated the Bishop of Stavanger to the chair. Fresh impulse was given to pilgrimages. With the wealth thus gathered, the cathedral was rebuilt and embellished, until in the twelfth century it stood in its perfected beauty.

The building is of a light bluish-gray stone,²⁴ the small columns and adornments being of white marble.²⁵ This gives lightness and airiness to the cathedral. The cathedral has two choirs, – xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx —- [sic] one octagonal, at the extreme east end. This contained the silver shrine of Saint Olaf, which is exceedingly beautiful ,both [sic] in form and adornment. The clear story²⁶ is especially beautiful. There [added above in pen: is] great variety of adornment in both capital²⁷ and arch; while the screen which separates it from the long choir is a marvel of beauty. It is a Gothic arch forty feet high, separated by lesser arches on either side. The light gallery²⁸ runs from the trifolium²⁹ to the top of this arch, and when the archbishop wanted to pronounce an anathema³⁰ against any of his flock, he appeared at the top of this arch. With his back to the high altar and the shrine, as if no hope was left, his words rang through the choir, across the transept, and down the long nave, like the voice of doom from Heaven.

…

But, the reader is saying, “What of the Midnight Sun”? Be patient my friend. If you would see the Midnight Sun so late in July, you must sail on and on, ever towards the North, through labyrinths of islands, past headlands and capes, [added above in pencil: always] in the midst of the most wonderful landscapes, and water scapes and cloud scapes, — [sic] but on and on. The days grow longer; the nights grow shorter. The long twilights are fascinating. One is troubled to know when to sleep. At last one chooses the mid-day hours for sleep, as being the least charming of the twenty-four. The stars fade out of the sky. The moon seems never present. But in their place ,you [sic] have the marvellous beauty of those Northern twilights. The wonder and the surprise is that the effects of no single evening are repeated. Sometimes the charm comes from the slanting rays of the sun that hangs for hours above the horizon. The sunlight seems to filter through clouds and air, and leave them filled with gold dust. They fall upon the water and you sail through rosy seas that fade out into purple and gray. Again it is the sun itself which assumes fantastical shapes. I remember one evening as we came up from dinner, a lady of the party exclaimed, “Captain, what is the matter with the sun”? [sic] And sure enough, there was the sun [added in pencil: not far] above the water, but seemingly having lost its lower portion. It rested upon a flat surface, and while we looked, a similar portion disappeared from the top, and there it was bulged sides. Next a piece disappeared from the sides, and the sun was square. ——- [sic] as square as it had ever looked round. Breathless we gazed. For the sun was now the shape of a lamp with a huge shade over it. Again it was an hour glass —- a pyramid— [sic] and constantly while we looked, came irregular steps on either side. Then it suddenly inverted, and it was a cone. There were other shapes. Then we saw three golden disks, with the edges turned towards us. Slowly it sank, until only two could be seen, -then one, -then a mere point of light ,and [sic] the sun had set; but from it rose a wide pillar of light, that shot far towards the zenith. Slowly for two hours it moved from west to east; then the sun appeared again and a new day was born. The next evening we had a mirage. All the afternoon there had been fish boats about us built after the fashion of old vikings boats of the twelfth century, with their high prows and square sails. But these had one by one disappeared as night came on, until we alone were left upon te [sic] waters. Suddenly a boat was in sight. We thought it belonged to a belated fisherman, but it suddenly faded from our view. Then another came and went. Then a tall mast with a [inserted in pencil: tattered] sail passed, rose from the water and as quickly disappeared; and while we looked ,a [sic] bridge was completed. Its narrow end was poured [penciled ‘x’ above the line] and buttressed, and it stretched away from the waters, until its further end was lost in a bank of fleecy clouds, whose upper edge was crimsoned with the last rays of the setting sun. Forms flit back and forth, and seem to disappear behind the clouds. Are these indeed the spirits of the old vikings? And is that the Walhalla,³¹ or land of the blest.?³² [sic] But you must sail on and on [sic] past [added above in pencil: the last] islands and [added above in pencil: the last] capes out into the Arctic. It is a wild waste of waters, with never an island or rock to break the dreary scene, and [added in pencil: here,] on the steamer deck, covered with wraps and furs we are to sit out [inserted in pencil: the] long hours of the night to see the Midnight Sun. It discends [sic] in the west, but [added in pencil: long] before it reaches the horizon, it turns its course towards the right, still nearing the horizon. On and on it moves from west to east, until it is directly in the north. If you could see the north star, it would be above it. It seems to stand still, as if uncertain to move on or to sink below the horizon. Then it begins slowly still moving towards the east to [inserted in pencil: rise] in its course ,until [sic] at last it starts again [added in pencil: on its westward way] and a new day is born, and this is the “Midnight Sun.”

Transcribed by Rebecca Debus.