Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas

by Sabine Baring-Gould

This scarce antiquarian book is a facsimile reprint of the original. Due to its age, it may contain imperfections such as marks, notations, marginalia and flawed pages. Because we believe this work is culturally important, we have made it available as part of our commitment for protecting, preserving, and promoting the world's literature in affordable, high quality, modern editions that are true to the original work.

Genres: Travel, History

Paperback

First published January 1, 1863

About the author

Sabine Baring-Gould was born in the parish of St Sidwell, Exeter. The eldest son of Edward Baring-Gould and his first wife, Sophia Charlotte (née Bond), he was named after a great-uncle, the Arctic explorer Sir Edward Sabine. Because the family spent much of his childhood travelling round Europe, most of his education was by private tutors. He only spent about two years in formal schooling, first at King's College School in London (then located in Somerset House) and then, for a few months, at Warwick Grammar School (now Warwick School). Here his time was ended by a bronchial disease of the kind that was to plague him throughout his long life. His father considered his ill-health as a good reason for another European tour.

In 1852 he was admitted to Cambridge University, earning the degrees of Bachelor of Arts in 1857, then Master of Arts in 1860 from Clare College, Cambridge. During 1864, he became the curate at Horbury Bridge, West Riding of Yorkshire. It was while acting as a curate that he met Grace Taylor, the daughter of a mill hand, then aged fourteen. In the next few years they fell in love. His vicar, John Sharp, arranged for Grace to live for two years with relatives in York to learn middle class manners. Baring-Gould, meanwhile, relocated to become perpetual curate at Dalton, near Thirsk. He and Grace were married in 1868 at Wakefield. Their marriage lasted until her death 48 years later, and the couple had 15 children, all but one of whom lived to adulthood. When he buried his wife in 1916 he had carved on her tombstone the Latin motto Dimidium Animae Meae ("Half my Soul").

Baring-Gould became the rector of East Mersea in Essex in 1871 and spent ten years there. In 1872 his father died and he inherited the 3,000 acre (12 km²) family estates of Lew Trenchard in Devon, which included the gift of the living of Lew Trenchard parish. When the living became vacant in 1881, he was able to appoint himself to it, becoming parson as well as squire. He did a great deal of work restoring St Peter's Church, Lew Trenchard, and (from 1883 – 1914) thoroughly remodelled his home, Lew Trenchard Manor.

Reviews

[T.D. Whittle · Rating 4 out of 5]

Iceland: Its Scenes and Sagas is a fantastic adventure, and Baring-Gould is an excellent guide on this journey through this beautiful land in the 1860s – a time when her population was estimated at 1,862; in other words, it is an Iceland long gone, that we can hope to glimpse now only through historical narratives such as this. This is a fine winter’s read, to be enjoyed while tucked up by the fire with a mug of tea or hot chocolate, sequestered from the outer cold. The book is longish and rambling, reflecting the slower pace and readerly patience of the 19th century; so, it would not be to everyone’s liking.

I enjoyed Baring-Gould’s descriptions of the waterfalls, geysers, and volcanoes: vast works of nature unencumbered by modern tourist conveniences and safety precautions. I enjoyed, too, his shared thoughts on the local people and their ways of living, which he highlights with snippets of dialogue (some of which is hilarious). I like, especially, the way that B-G interweaves his travelogue with bits of Icelandic sagas that relate to the particular area he was exploring at the time. These stories seem crucial to the understanding of the place, and they are fascinating and entertaining in their own right – provided one is interested in folklore, that is (which I am).

It is important to keep in mind that this perspective on Iceland and its inhabitants is that of a Victorian English parson, teacher, and bonafide eccentric, whose intellectual and social accomplishments spanned many areas, but whose attitudes reflected the social mores of his time; for one cannot help but notice that, while he admires some of the Icelanders, he speaks of them, overall, with a condescension that would be viewed as culturally insensitive and ignorant were it to appear in travel writing today. I believe that sort of attitude – especially by Colonialists – was so normal as to go unnoticed then, so I do not want to retroactively judge him for it (but then, I am not an Icelander, and if I were, I might feel differently).

I read this book not because I have such a fascination with Iceland, but because I have a fascination with Baring-Gould and I’d enjoyed reading some of his works on mythology and folklore. Having said that, I do now have a fascination with Iceland, thanks to this book! I am officially enamored of the place now, and I look forward to visiting there one day. I could not help but wonder, as I read, what Baring-Gould and Bjork would have thought of one another, and what kind of conversations they might have had, had they found themselves together pondering icebergs, in some parallel universe where time loops back on itself.

[Helen · Rating 4 out of 5]

Great. Baring-Gould is well known in Britain as a folklorist, collector of folk songs, amateur archaeologist, clergyman, and author of the hymn "Onward Christian soldiers", but at the time of his journey to Iceland he was not yet a parson but a young schoolmaster. This is very entertaining and full of information both about the country and about the cost and preparations for travel. Iceland was known to some travellers but obviously not as accessible as it is now, and Baring-Gould went beyond the usual sights, planning a long journey into the interior (which had to be cut short due to lack of grass for the horses). He is intending to entertain, so some of his comments both about the Icelanders he meets and his fellow travellers might come across as a bit condescending. (For balance, the introduction to this reprint has tracked down a similar though much shorter account from one of those travellers, an American). Baring-Gould was interested in everything he saw - natural phenomena of all kinds, the landscape which he was drawing, the people and their habits, the language (up to a point), the history and the literature. He bought manuscripts on his journey (later given to the British (Museum) Library), and the travelogue is punctuated by stories from the sagas, which he describes himself telling the others in a well-known literary tradition of stories told within the main story. He spent the equivalent of two years' salary on his trip, and was confident that he would return (and so sure of himself that he thought he could do without a local guide another time. Hmmm.). He never did return, however. I would very much like to have a parallel account written by the guide whom he calls Grimr, which is possibly not his real name.
This is very readable and amusing, but of course it is describing a very different experience to what one might expect today: the journey was undertaken in the summer of 1862. Another must for Icelandophiles.

[Eva]

DNF

[John W.]

My great grandfather's account of his visit to Iceland in 1862 was the basis for our trip to Iceland in June 2015 with the Sabine Baring-Gould Appreciation Society. The same country and landscape but a very different trip than his by horseback carrying all provisions except for the food that could be found along the way which was largely birds that could be shot and the food that was provided by the people that they encounterd. A combination of a documentary and an entertainment provided by his traveling companions and the persons he met. A very different trip we went on with rough country, vermin filled shelters when they were no camping outside and rain and cold that were hard to avoid.

[Abi · Rating 3 out of 5]

One of my four dissertation sources. I feel quite fond of it, but I can't forgive Sabine for his relentless mocking of the Icelanders.