Ancient Capital of Norway. — Routes of Travel. — Rain! — Peasant Costumes. — Commerce of Bergen. — Shark’s vs. Cod Liver Oil. — Ship-Building. — Public Edifices. — Quaint Shops. — Borgund Church. — Leprosy in Norway. — Sporting Country. — Inland Experiences. — Hay-Making. — Pine-Forest Experiences. — National Constitution. — People’s Schools. — Girls’ Industrial School. — Celebrated Citizens of Bergen. — Two Grand Norwegian Fjords. — Remarkable Glaciers.

Bergen is situated some two hundred miles northwest of Christiania, and may be reached from thence by a carriole journey across the country over excellent roads, or by steamboat doubling the Naze. The latter route, though three times as far, is often adopted by travellers as being less expensive and troublesome. Still another and perhaps the most common route taken by tourists is that by way of Lake Mjoesen, Gjoeveg, the Fillefjeld and Laerdalsoeren, on the Sognefjord. This is called the Valders route, and affords by far the greatest variety of scenery. It involves railroad, steamer, and carriole modes of conveyance, and in all covers a distance of at least three hundred and fifty miles. It will be remembered that Bergen was the capital of Norway when it was under Danish rule, and was long afterwards the commercial rival of Christiania. Indeed, its shipping interests we were informed still exceed those of the capital, the verity of which statement one is inclined to question. The period of its greatest prosperity was in the Middle Ages and during the century when the great Hanseatic League flourished, at which time there was a numerous German colony resident here. The town appears very ancient, and naturally so, as it dates back to the eleventh century. Many of the dwellings are quaint with sharp-peaked roofs and gable-ends toward the streets. The boats which ply in the harbor and throng the wharves differ but little from the style of those used by the Norse pirates a thousand years ago, and who congregated in force about these very shores. The oldest part of the city lies on the eastern side of the harbor where the fortress of Bergenhuus and the double-towered Maria Kirke are situated. The inhabitants are not amphibious, but they certainly ought to be, since it rains here five days out of every seven. Some one has aptly called it the fatherland of drizzle, “where the hooded clouds, like friars, tell their beads in drops of rain.” The first and foremost business of the place, therefore, is dealing in umbrellas and water-proof clothing. We did not observe any special crest as indicating the corporate arms of the city, but if such a design exists, it should be surmounted by a full-length figure of Jupiter Pluvius. We were assured that the rain-fall here averages six feet annually. There is a tradition of sunny days having occurred in Bergen, but much patience and long waiting are necessary to verify it. Still there is plenty of life and business activity in the broad clean streets, and more especially in and about the wharves and shipping.

One sees here more of the traditional Norwegian costumes than are to be met with either at Gottenburg or Christiania. Some of the old men who came from the inland villages were particularly noticeable, forming vivid and artistic groups, with their long snowy hair flowing freely about face and neck in the most patriarchal fashion. They wore red-worsted caps, open shirt-collars, knee-breeches, and jackets and vests decked with a profusion of silver buttons, like a Basque postilion. The women wear black jackets, bright-red bodices and scarlet petticoats, with white linen aprons. On the street called the Strandgade many Norse costumes mingle together like colors in a kaleidoscope. Our guide pointed out one group, which was perhaps more strongly individualized than the rest, as coming from the Tellemark district. Various nationalities were also represented, not forgetting the despised and much persecuted Jews, who are nearly as unpopular in Scandinavia as they are in Germany and Russia. The Strandgade is the longest thoroughfare in the city, and runs parallel with the harbor. By turning to the left after reaching the custom-house and passing up the rising ground, one reaches the Observatory, from whence a fine view of Bergen and its environs is obtained. The dusky red-tiled roofs crowded together, the square wooden towers of the churches mingled with the public gardens dressed in warmest verdure, form altogether a quaint and impressive picture. The town rises from the bay nearly in the form of a crescent, nestling at the feet of the surrounding hills on the west coast of Norway, between those two broad and famous arms of the sea, the Sognefjord and the Hardangerfjord. The first named indents the coast to a distance of one hundred and six miles, the latter seventy miles,—the first being north, and the last south of Bergen. The excellent situation of the harbor and its direct steam communication with European ports give this ancient city an extensive commerce in proportion to the number of inhabitants, who do not aggregate more than forty thousand. A large portion of the town is built upon a promontory, and between it and the main-land on its north side is the harbor, which is rarely frozen over owing to the influence of the Gulf Stream, while the harbor of St. Petersburg, in about the same latitude, is annually closed by ice for at least three months.

The staple commodity of Bergen is dried fish, mostly cod, supplemented by large quantities of cod-liver oil, lumber, and wood for fuel. It may not be generally known that a considerable portion of what is denominated cod-liver oil is produced from sharks’ livers, which in fact are believed to be characterized by the same medicinal qualities as are those of the cod. At any rate, with this object sharks are sought for along the upper coast of Norway in the region of the Lofodens, and their livers are employed as described. An average-sized shark, we were told, will yield thirty gallons of good merchantable oil, but the article could not obtain a market except under the popular name of cod-liver oil. Catching the sharks is not an employment entirely devoid of danger, as they are often found to be large and very powerful, measuring from twenty-five to thirty feet in length. The shark like the whale, when it is struck with the harpoon, must at first be given plenty of line or it will drag down the boat in its rapid descent to deep water. Sometimes the struggle to capture the fish is a long and serious one, as it must thoroughly exhaust itself before it will yield. When finally drawn to the side of the boat, a heavy well-directed blow upon the nose completely stuns the creature, and the capture is then complete. The diminution in the number of sharks upon the coast has led to a large natural increase in the number of herring, the catching of which forms a special and profitable branch of Norwegian industry.

It is here at Bergen that the cargoes of fish caught on the coast at the far North and within the Arctic Circle are packed and reshipped to European ports. Lobsters are trapped in immense quantities just off the coast, whence the London market is mostly supplied. We were told that over two millions of this product were annually exported to Great Britain. They are shipped alive to England, where owing to some attributed excellence they are specially favored above those coming from any other locality. The Fish Market is the great business centre of Bergen, situated at the end of the Torv, at a small pier called Triangelen. The fish intended for local domestic use are kept alive in large tubs of water near the shore, and when desired by the purchaser are scooped out with a net, killed by a sharp blow upon the head, and sold by weight, the price being ridiculously low. Owing to its topographical character and location, Bergen will never become a railroad centre; its principal trade will remain in connection with the sea alone. Ship-building is carried on here to a considerable extent. We saw one iron steamer which was constructed and equipped in this harbor; and a finely finished craft she was, of over a thousand tons burden. There are some fine public squares, a People’s Park, wherein a military band plays twice a week, half-a-dozen churches, a commodious Theatre, a Royal Palace, a Musical Institute, a Public Library, and a Museum; but there is scarcely a trace of architectural beauty in all Norway with the exception of the cathedral at Troendhjem, which is formed of a mixture of orders, the Norman predominating. The Church of St. Mary is only interesting for its antiquity, dating as it does from the twelfth century. Its curious and grotesque façade bears the date of 1118.

A glance at the map will show the reader that Norway is broadest where a line drawn eastward from Bergen would divide it, giving a width of a little over two hundred and eighty miles, while the length of her territory is four times as great. The Gottenburg liquor-system, as it is called, has long been adopted in this city, and seems to operate as advantageously here as in the place of its origin. Nevertheless, the people are what we call in America hard drinkers, though little absolute drunkenness was observable. The quaint little shops of the town, which are slightly raised above the level of the street, have another and rather inferior class of stores under them, accessible by descending steps from the thoroughfare. This division of trade, by arranging a series of basement stores, is so common here as to form a feature of the town; and the same is observable in Copenhagen, where many jewelry, art, and choice retail stores are located in the basement of the houses, with an establishment devoted to some other line of trade above them. The shops in Bergen are well filled with odd antique articles, mostly of domestic use, such as old plate, drinking-cups, spoons, and silver goblets bearing the marks of age and the date of two or three centuries past. A little experience is apt to create considerable doubt in the minds of inquiring travellers as to the genuineness of these articles, which, like those found in the odd curio shops of Japan, are very largely manufactured to order in this blessed year of our Lord, however they may be dated.

The native jewelry is curious and some of it quite pretty, not for personal wear, but as a souvenir. Evidences of thrift and prosperity impress the stranger on every side, while extremes in the social condition of the people do not appear to exist. They are neither very rich nor very poor. There are no mendicants or idlers to be seen; all persons appear to have some legitimate occupation. One looks about in vain for any sign of the thirty-two churches and half-score of convents which history tells us once made of the place a noted religious centre and a Mecca for devotional pilgrims. The Cathedral of St. Olaf is venerable, dating from 1248; but except its antiquity it presents nothing of special interest to the stranger. There are numerous handsome villas in the immediate environs, where some very creditable landscape gardening is to be seen, while the surrounding fields are clothed in emerald vegetation. Some new villas were observed in course of erection, but as we continued our stroll the sterile and rocky hills which form the background to the picture of Bergen were soon reached. A favorite walk in the suburbs is to the Svartediket, a lake which supplies the city with water, pure and excellent. At Tjosanger, not far away, is one of the ancient wooden churches of the country, almost identical with the more noted one at Borgund. This queer old structure at the last named place now belongs to the Antiquarian Society of Christiania, and is very curious with its numerous gables, shingle-covered roofs, and walls surmounted with dragons’ heads. It is strangely sombre, with its dark and windowless interior, but is the best preserved church of its kind in all Norway, dating as it does from the twelfth century. But we were speaking of the immediate environs of Bergen. About a mile outside of the city there is a leper hospital, devoted solely to the unfortunate victims of this terrible disease. Notwithstanding the persistent and scientific effort which has been made by the Government, still it seems extremely difficult to eradicate this dreaded pest from the country. The too free use of fish as a food is thought by many to be a promoting cause of leprosy. Those who are affected by it are not permitted to marry if the disease has once declared itself; so that as a hereditary affliction it is very properly kept in check. There are three hospitals set aside in the country for the exclusive treatment of those thus afflicted; one is at Molde, one at Trondhjem, and the other we have mentioned at Bergen. Physicians say that the disease is slowly decreasing in the number of its victims, and the patients now domiciled in the three districts amount to but fifteen hundred, equally divided among them. One mitigating feature of this loathsome affliction is the fact that it is not considered to be contagious; but those who inherit it can never escape its fatality.

The country lying between Bergen and Christiania, and indeed nearly every part of Norway, presents great attractions to the angler, who must, however, go prepared to rough it; but if he be a true lover of the sport, this will enhance rather than detract from the pleasure. The country is sparsely inhabited, and affords only the rudest accommodations for the wandering pedestrian who does not confine himself to the regular post-routes. The innumerable lakes, rivers, and streams swarm with delicious fish,—trout, grayling, and salmon being the most abundant species of the finny tribe. Many Englishmen come hither annually, attracted solely by this sport. The disciples of the rod who know these regions do not forget to bring with them ample protection against mosquitoes; for these tiny creatures are in wonderful abundance during the summer season, dividing the mastership with that other Norwegian pest, the flea, who is here the acknowledged giant of his tribe. Hotel accommodations even in Bergen are nothing to boast of. Every foreigner is supposed to be craving for salmon and reindeer meat, raw, smoked, pickled, or cooked.

A drive of a few leagues inland upon the charming roads in any direction will fill the stranger with delight, and afford characteristic pictures of great beauty. The farmers hang their cut grass upon frames of wood to dry, as we do clothes on washing-day. These frames are arranged in the mowing-fields in rows of a hundred feet in length, and are about five feet high. The effect in the haying season is quite striking and novel to the stranger. The agricultural tools used upon the farms are of the most primitive character; the ploughs are single-handed, and as awkward as the rude implement in use to-day in Egypt. The country houses are low, the roofs often covered with soil, and not infrequently rendered attractive with blooming heather and little blue-and-pink blossoms planted by Nature’s hand,—the hieroglyphics in which she writes her impromptu poetry. In the meadows between the hills are sprinkled harebells as blue as the azure veins on a lovely face; while here and there patches of great red clover-heads are seen nodding heavily with their wealth of golden sweets. Farther away in solitary glens white anémones delight the eye, in company with ferns of tropical variety of form and color. The blossoms of the multebaer, almost identical with that of the strawberry, are also abundant. The humidity of the atmosphere of the west coast, and especially in the latitude of Bergen, favors floral development. All through Scandinavia one meets these bright mosaics of the soil with a sense of surprise, they are so delicate, so frail, creations of such short life, yet lovely beyond compare, born upon the very verge of eternal frost. How Nature enters into our hearts and confides her amorous scents through winsome flowers! In these rambles afield one meets occasionally a peasant, who bows low, removing his hat as the stranger passes. Without showing the servility of the common people of Japan, they yet exhibit all their native courtesy. Now and again the road passes through reaches of pine forest, still and aromatic, the soil carpeted with soft yellow fir-needles, where if one pauses to listen there comes a low, undefined murmur of vegetable and insect life, like the sound that greets the ear when applied to an empty sea-shell. Some wood-paths were found sprinkled with dog-violets and saxifrage, fragrant as Gan Eden; others were daintily fringed with purple heart’s-ease, captivating in their sylvan loveliness. Of song-birds there were none; and one could not but hunger for their delicious notes amid such suggestive surroundings.

English is very generally spoken by the merchants of Bergen, and may almost be said to constitute its commercial tongue. It is taught in all the “people’s schools” as they are called, of which there are twenty supported by the town. In conversing with the citizens, they appear to be of more than average intelligence and liberal in opinions save for a few local prejudices. A Norwegian does not waste much love upon Sweden or its people. There is no bitterness expressed, but the two kingdoms united in one are still in a certain sense natural rivals. They are only combined to sustain their mutual political interests as it regards other nations. They have a saying at Bergen: “We love the English, and drink tea; the Swedes love the French, and drink coffee.” Still, it is so clearly for their national interest to remain united that there is no fear of their seriously falling out. The Norwegian constitution is perhaps as near an approach to a perfect democracy as can possibly be achieved under a constitutional monarchy. This constitution is of her own making. She has “home rule” in its fullest sense, with her own Parliament and ministers in all departments except that of foreign affairs. She has even her own excise, and her own taxation direct and indirect. She contributes five, and Sweden twelve, seventeenths of the support of the royal family. She furnishes her proper quota of soldiers and sailors for the army and navy. In short, she makes her own laws and appoints her own officials to enforce them. No Swede holds any political office in Norway. The constitution was proclaimed on the 4th of November, 1814. The whole of the legislative and part of the executive power of the realm is invested in the Storthing, which is an emanation from and the representative of the sovereign people. So limited is the power of the King that he can make no appointment to public office in Norway, and over the laws passed by the Storthing he has but a limited veto. That is to say, he may veto a bill; but the passage of it a second time, though it may be by only a bare majority, places it beyond his prerogative.

There are a few Moravians settled in various parts of the country, but they are nowhere sufficiently numerous to establish organized congregations. The doctrine of Luther seems to be almost universally accepted, and appears to answer all the spiritual wants of the people.

Strangers visit with more than passing interest the admirable free industrial school for girls which flourishes and does its grand work faithfully at Bergen. Here female children from eight to sixteen years of age are taught practically the domestic industries under circumstances robbed of every onerous regulation, and are to be seen daily in cheerful groups at work upon all sorts of garments, supervised by competent teachers of their own sex. Such a well-conducted and practical institution cannot but challenge the admiration of even comparatively indifferent persons. Possessed of all these prudential and educational appreciations, it is not surprising that Bergen has sent forth some eminent representatives in science, art, and literature. Among them the most familiar are perhaps Olé Bull, the famous musician; Ludwig Holberg, the accomplished traveller; Johann Welhaven, the Norse poet; and J. C. C. Dahl, the justly celebrated painter.

We spoke of Bergen as situated on the west coast of Norway, between two of the most remarkable fjords in the country. The Hardanger richly repays a visit. The beauty, grandeur, and variety of its scenery is hardly surpassed in Scandinavia, which is so famous in these respects in all its parts. It is easily accessible from Bergen, as during the summer steamers sail thither three times a week, making the entire tour of the fjord. In many respects it resembles the Sognefjord. Though it is forty miles less in extent, it is yet the largest fjord in superficial measurement of any on the coast. Both are enclosed by rocky, precipitous, and lofty mountains, ranging from three to four thousand feet in height, characterized by snow-clad tops of virgin white, mingled with which are many extensive glaciers. The Sognefjord is more especially important as a water-way extending from the sea over a hundred miles inland, and averaging over four miles in width, having in parts the remarkable depth of four thousand feet. At its upper extremity is situated the largest glacier in Europe. In the Hardangerfjord there are many pleasant and thrifty hamlets near the water’s edge, while broad fields of grain, thickly growing woods, and acres of highly cultivated soil show a spirit of successful industry seconded by the kindly aid of Nature. Wherever an opportunity occurs, the greensward springs up in such vivid color as to seem tropical, all the more intensified by its close proximity to the region of ceaseless frost. The traveller who is familiar with the Lake of Lucerne will be constantly reminded of that beautiful piece of land-locked water while sailing up either of these remarkable, grand, and interesting arms of the North Sea. So lofty are the mountains, and so abruptly do they rise out of the water at certain points, that while sailing near the shore within their deep shadow the darkness of night seems to encompass the vessel. If one has not time to go farther north in Norway, a visit to and careful inspection of these two extensive fjords will give a very good idea of the peculiarities of the entire coast. The grand fjords north of this point are none of them more extensive, but some of the mountain scenery is bolder and many of the elevations greater; the glaciers also come down nearer to the coast-line and to the sea.

Let no one who tarries for a few days at Bergen fail to make an excursion to the Folgefonden, or Hardanger glaciers. Of course an experienced guide is necessary, as fatal accidents sometimes occur here, particularly after a fresh fall of snow which covers up the huge clefts in the ice. These glaciers extend about forty miles in length by fifteen or twenty in width, here and there intersected by enormous chasms. Hunters and adventurous climbers have many times disappeared down these abysses, never again to be seen or heard from. Bears and reindeer have also fallen into and perished in these clefts. Persons who explore these glaciers wear spiked shoes as a necessary precaution, and to aid them in creeping along the slippery, rubbled surface of the ice. With a proper guide and reasonable care, however, there is little danger to be apprehended, or at least no more than is encountered by climbers among the Swiss Alps. These glaciers, as we have shown, are not confined to the mountain regions and elevated plateaus, but extend gradually downward in their lower portions very near to the shore, where vegetation in strong contrast thrives close to their borders. Farther northward the glacial effects are bolder and more numerous; but these accessible from Bergen are by no means to be neglected by travellers who would study understandingly this remarkable phase of Arctic and Alpine regions.