Volume 1, Chapter 18 -- Voyage and Travels of Pietro Quirini into Norway, in 1431.
*Section 1* -- Voyage and Shipwreck of Quirini
*Section 2* -- Preservation of Quirini on the Coast of Norway, and Residence In the Isle of Rostoe
*Section 3* -- Voyage from Rostoe to Drontheim, and journey thence into Sweden



Pietro Quirini, a Venetian nobleman, was a merchant and master of a ship belonging to the island of Candia, which at that time was in the possession of the Venetian republic. With a view both to fame and profit, he undertook in 1431 a voyage from Candia to Flanders; and towards the end of autumn of that year suffered shipwreck on the coast of Norway, not far from the island of Rost. He wintered in that island, and in the following summer, 1432, travelled through Drontheim to Wadstena, in Sweden, and from thence returned to Venice that year. He has himself given an account of his adventures, and two of his companions, Christopho Fioravente and Nicolo di Michiel, did the same. Both of these journals are to be found in the collection of Ramusio; and extracts have been published from them by Hieronimus Megiserus, in a work entitled, Septentrio Novantiquus, printed in 8vo, at Leipsic in 1613.--Forst.

[1] Forster, Voy. and Disc. in the North, p. 209.



Volume 1, Chapter 18, Section 1 -- Voyage and Shipwreck of Quirini.

On the 25th of April 1431, Pietro Quirini set sail from Candia, steering westwards to the straits of Gibraltar; but, owing to contrary winds, he was obliged to keep near the coast of Barbary. On the 2d of June, he passed the straits, and, through the ignorance of the pilot, the ship got upon the shoals of St Peter, in consequence of which accident the rudder was thrown off the hinges, and the ship admitted water in three several places; insomuch that it was with great difficulty they could save the vessel from sinking, and get her into Cadiz. The vessel was here unloaded; and, having given her a thorough repair, the lading was again put on board in twenty-five days after their arrival. Having learned in the meantime that the republic of Venice had entered into a war with Genoa, he thought proper to augment the number of his men, so that his crew in all amounted to sixty-eight. He set sail again on the 14th of July, and endeavoured to bear up for Cape St Vincent; but, owing to a strong north-east wind, which on that coast is called Agione, he was forced to beat up to windward forty-five days at a great distance from land, and was driven into dangerous and unknown seas near the Canary islands. When at length their stock of provisions was nearly exhausted, they got a fair wind from the south-west, and directed their course towards the north-east; and the iron work about their rudder giving way, they mended it up as well as they could, and arrived safe at Lisbon on the 25th of August.

Having here carefully repaired the iron work of their rudder, and taken in a fresh stock of provisions, they again set sail on the 14th of September; and were a second time baffled by contrary winds, insomuch that they had to put in at the port of Mures in Spain, whence Quirini went with thirteen of his crew to perform his devotions at the shrine of St Jago di Compostella. They returned from thence with all speed, and again set sail with a fair wind at south-west, and kept at the distance of 200 miles from the land, in hopes the wind might continue. But on the 5th November the wind shifting to the east and south-east, prevented them from entering the English channel, and forced them beyond the Scilly islands. The wind now again increased in violence, and on the 10th November carried the rudder a second time from its hinges. They slung it by means of ropes to the quarters of the ship, but it soon broke loose, and was dragged after the ship for three days, when, by exerting their utmost efforts, it was again made fast. The vessel now drove continually farther from land; and as the crew consumed the victuals and drink without bounds or moderation, two or three of the men were appointed to guard the provisions, with orders to distribute regular shares to each person on board twice a day, Quirini himself not excepted.

As a substitute for their disabled rudder, they constructed, by the advice of the carpenter, out of some spare masts and yards, two rudders with triangular boarded ends, in order to steady the course of the vessel. These being properly fastened proved highly serviceable, and inspired them with fresh hopes of safety; but, by the extreme violence of the winds and waves, this their last refuge was torn away. On the 26th of November the storm increased to such extreme violence, that they expected every moment to founder, and had no doubt this was to have proved the last day of their lives. By degrees, indeed, the storm abated; but they were driven out to sea to the W.N.W., and the sails, from being perpetually fatigued by the rain and wind, were now torn to shivers; and though they put up new ones, they were soon likewise destroyed. The ship now drove without either sails or rudder, at the mercy of the winds and waves, and was filled by the sea which continually beat over it; insomuch that the crew, worn out with constant labour, anxiety, and watching, were scarcely able to keep the water under. On heaving the lead they found water at 80 fathoms; on which they spliced all their four cables on end, and rode at anchor for the space of forty hours; when one of die crew, terrified at the dreadful working of the ship occasioned by the winds and waves, cut the cable at the forecastle, and the ship now drove about as before. On the 4th December, four large waves broke in succession over their ill-fated vessel, and filled it so full of water that it seemed just ready to sink. By exerting their utmost strength and resolution, the crew baled the water out, though it reached to their waists, and at length succeeded in emptying the vessel entirely. On the 7th, the tempest increased with such violence, that the sea flowed into the ship uninterruptedly from the windward, and their speedy destruction seemed quite inevitable; so that they were now of opinion their only chance of safety was by cutting away the mainmast, which might lighten the ship. This was done therefore immediately; and a large wave fortunately carried the mast and yard clear away, by which the ship worked with considerably less strain and violence. The wind and waves too, now became less violent, and they again baled out the water. But now the mast was gone, the ship would no longer keep upright, and lay quite over on one side, so that the water ran into her in torrents; and the people, being quite exhausted with labour and want of food, had not strength remaining to clear out the water.

In this desperate situation, expecting every moment that the vessel would sink or go to pieces, they came to the resolution of endeavouring to save themselves in the boats, of which the larger held only forty-seven men, and the smaller twenty-one. Quirini had the choice of either of the boats, and at last went with his servants, into the larger boat, in which the officers had embarked. They took with them a stock of provisions; and on the 17th December, the winds and waves having somewhat moderated, they quitted their unfortunate ship. Among other costly articles of commerce, the ship was laden with 800 casks of Malmsey wine, and a great quantity of sweet-scented Cyprus wood, with pepper and ginger. On the following night, the small boat in which twenty-one of the crew were embarked, was separated from them by the violence of the storm, and they never heard of her more. Those in the larger boat were obliged to throw overboard most of their stock of wine and provisions, and all their clothes except those they had on, in order if possible to lighten her a little. As the weather proved fair for some time, they steered to the eastwards, in hopes of getting as they thought to Iceland; but the wind again chopping about, drove them about at its will, and they were quite ignorant whereabouts they were.

Their liquor now began to fail, and many of the people being quite exhausted with incessant labour, long watchings, and the other hardships they had undergone, and through scarcity of provisions, a great number of them died. So great particularly was the scarcity of drink, that the allowance for each man was only a fourth part of a moderate cupful once in twenty-four hours. They were better provided with salted meat, cheese, and biscuit; but this dry and salt food excited an intolerable thirst, which they had no means to quench; in consequence of which some of them died suddenly, and without having exhibited any previous symptoms of illness; and it was particularly observed, that those were first carried off who had formerly lived in the most intemperate manner, and had given themselves up to drunkenness, or had continually indulged themselves in hovering over the fire. Though these had the external appearance of being strong and healthy, they were least able to endure the hardships they had now to suffer, and two or three of them used to die in a day. This mortality prevailed for ten days, from the 19th to the 29th of December. On the 29th the last remainder of the wine was served out, and every one resigned himself to meet death, which seemed at hand. Some of the people, urged by raging thirst, drank sea water, which evidently hastened their dissolution. Others had recourse to their own urine, and this nauseous beverage, joined to the precaution of eating as little salt provision as possible, contributed most of all to the preservation of their lives.

For the space of five days they continued in this dreadful situation, sailing all the time to the north-eastward. At length on the 4th of January, one of the people who sat in the bow of the boat, descried somewhat to leeward which he conceived to be the shadow of land, and immediately informed the crew of his discovery in an anxious voice. All eyes were now eagerly directed to this object, and as day broke they saw with extreme joy that it really was the land. The sight of this welcome object inspired them with fresh vigour, and they now plied their oars in order to arrive the sooner at the shore; but on account of its great distance, as well as the shortness of the day, which was only two hours long, they were unable to accomplish this desire. Besides, they were now so weak as to be unable to make use of their oars for any length of time; and as night soon overtook them, and was of long continuance, it seemed to men in their forlorn state as if it would never end. When the next day broke, they could no longer discern the land which they had seen the day before; but they discovered another mountainous country very near them and to leeward. That they might not lose the way to this during the ensuing night, they took its bearings by the compass, and hoisting sail with a fair wind they reached it about four o'clock in the evening. On approaching the shore, they observed that it was surrounded by many shallows, as they distinctly heard the sea breaking over these; but they gave themselves up to the guidance of providence, and at one time the boat grounded on a shoal, but a vast wave came and floated them over, and at the same time carried them safely to land upon a shelving rock, which was now their great security, as the spot was encompassed on every side with rugged projecting rocks, and they could not possibly have got on shore in any other place. Here therefore they ran their boat on shore; and those who were on the bows leaped directly on the coast, which they found entirely covered with snow, which they swallowed in immense quantities, filling their parched and burning stomachs and bowels. They likewise filled a kettle and pitcher for those who from weakness remained in the boat; and Quirini alleges, that he swallowed as much snow as he would have found it difficult to have carried on his back, all his happiness and welfare seeming to depend upon the quantity of it he could swallow. This extravagant quantity of snow agreed so ill with some of the people, that five of them died that night; though their deaths were attributed to the sea water which they had previously drank.



Volume 1, Chapter 18, Section 2 -- Preservation of Quirini on the Coast of Norway, and Residence In the Isle of Rostoe.

As they had no rope with which to make fast their boat to the shore and prevent it from being dashed to pieces, they remained in it the whole night. Next day at dawn, sixteen weak, miserable and exhausted wretches, the sad remains of forty-seven who had originally taken refuge in the large boat, went on shore and laid themselves down in the snow. Hunger, however, soon obliged them to examine if there might not remain some of the provisions which they had brought with them from the ship: All they found was a very small ham, an inconsiderable remnant of cheese, and some biscuit dust in a bag, mixed with the dung of mice. These they warmed by means of a small fire, which they made of the boat seats, and in some measure appeased their hunger. On the following day, having convinced themselves beyond doubt that the rock on which they then were was quite desert and uninhabited, they resolved to quit it in hopes of being able to reach some inhabited island, or part of the adjacent coast of Norway; but, after filling five small casks with snow water, and getting into the boat to put their resolution into execution, the water ran in torrents through all the seams, and the boat went to the bottom immediately, so that they were forced to get on shore again quite drenched in the sea. During the whole of the preceding long night, the boat had been beating against the rock, which had loosened its planks and opened all the seams. Despairing now of any relief, as they were utterly destitute of any means to repair their boat, they constructed two small tents of their oars and sails, to shelter themselves from the weather, and hewed the materials of their boat in pieces to make a fire to warm themselves. The only food they were able to procure consisted in a few mussels and other shell-fish, which they picked up along the shore. Thirteen of the company were lodged in one of the tents, and three in the other. The smoke of the wet wood caused their faces and eyes to swell so much that they were afraid of becoming totally blind; and, what added prodigiously to their sufferings, they were almost devoured by lice and maggots, which they threw by handfuls into the fire. The secretary of Quirini had the flesh on his neck eaten bare to the sinews by these vermin, and died in consequence; besides him, three Spaniards of a robust frame of body likewise died, who probably lost their lives in consequence of having drank sea water while in the boat; and so weak were the thirteen who still remained alive, that during three days they were unable to drag away the dead bodies from the fireside.

Eleven days after landing on this rock or uninhabited island, Quirini's servant, having extended his search for shellfish, their only food, quite to the farthest point of the island, found a small wooden house, both in and around which he observed some cow-dung. From this circumstance the forlorn people concluded that there were men and cattle at no great distance, which inspired them with, fresh hopes of relief, and revived their drooping spirits. This house afforded them abundant room and good shelter; and all, except three or four, who were too weak to be able for the fatigue of removing to such a distance, changed their abode to this hut, crawling with great difficulty through the deep snow, the distance being about a mile and a half, and they took with them as much as they were able of the ruins of their boat, to serve them for fire-wood. Two days after this, while going along the shore in search of the usual supply of shell-fish, one of the company found a very large fish quite recently cast up by the sea, which appeared to weigh about two hundred pounds, and was quite sweet and fresh. This most providential supply they cut into thin slices and carried to their dwelling, where they immediately set to work to broil and boil it; but so great was their famine, and so tempting its smell, that they had not patience to wait till it was thoroughly dressed, but devoured it eagerly half raw. They continued to gorge themselves with this fish almost without intermission for four days; but at length the evident and rapid decrease of this stock of food taught them more prudent economy, and by using it sparingly in future it lasted them ten days more. Those who staid behind in one of the tents near the place of their first landing, sent one of their number to see what had become of the rest; and, when he had been refreshed with some of the fish, he carried a portion to his two companions, and the whole survivors were soon afterwards reassembled in the wooden hut. During the whole time that they subsisted upon the providentially found fish, the weather was so exceedingly tempestuous that they certainly would not have been able to have looked out for shellfish, and they must inevitably have perished of famine.

Having made an end of the large fish, which seems to have lasted them for fourteen days, they were obliged to have recourse again to the precarious employment of gathering shellfish along the shore for their subsistence. About eight miles from the rock upon which they now were, which Fioravente informs us was called Santi, or Sand-ey by the natives, there was another isle named Rustene,[1] which was inhabited by several families of fishers. It happened that a man and two of his sons came over from Rost to Sandey to look after some cattle which were amissing. Observing the smoke from the hut in which Quirini and his wretched companions had taken shelter, curiosity led them to examine the hut. On their approach, their voices were heard by the people within the hut; but they believed it to be only the screaming of the sea-fowl who devoured the bodies of their deceased companions. Christopher Fioravente, however, went out to examine whence the unusual sound proceeded; and espying the two youths, he ran back in haste, calling aloud to his companions that two men were come to seek them. Upon this the whole company ran out immediately to meet the lads, who on their parts were terrified at the sight of so many poor famished wretches. These latter debated for some time among themselves whether they should not detain one of their visitors, with the view of making themselves more certain to procure assistance; but Quirini dissuaded them from this projected violence. They all accompanied the youths to the boat, and entreated the father and sons to take two of their people along with them to their habitations, in order the sooner to procure them assistance from thence. For this purpose they chose one Gerrard of Lyons, who had been purser of the ship, and one Cola a mariner of Otranto, as these men could speak French and a little German.

The boat with the fishermen, and the two men who had been deputed to seek assistance, went over to Rostoe on Friday the 31st. of January 1432. On their landing, the inhabitants were much astonished at their appearance, but were not able to understand them, though the strangers addressed them in different languages; till at last one of the strangers began to speak a little German with a German priest of the order of friars predicant who lived there, and informed him who they were and whence they came. On Sunday the 2d February, which happened to be the festival of the purification of the blessed Virgin, the priest admonished all the people of Rostoe to assist the unhappy strangers to the utmost of their power, at the same time representing the hardships and dangers they had undergone, and pointing to the two famished wretches then present. Many of the congregation were softened even to tears at the recital, and a resolution was formed to bring away the miserable survivors as soon as possible, which they accomplished next day. In the mean time, those who remained behind at Sandey considered the absence of their companions as extremely long; and what with hunger, cold and anxiety, they were almost dead. Their joy may be more easily conceived than expressed, when they perceived six boats approaching to their relief. On landing, the Dominican priest inquired which of them was the captain of the unhappy crew; and when Quirini made himself known as such, the priest presented him with some rye bread and some beer, which he looked upon as manna sent from heaven. After this the priest took him by the hand, and desired him to choose two of his companions to accompany him; and Quirini pitched upon Francis Quirini of Candia, and Christopher Fioravente a Venetian, all three embarking in the boat of the principal man of Rostoe along with the priest. The rest of the company were distributed in the other five boats; and these good Samaritans went even to the tents where these unfortunates had first dwelt, taking away with them the only survivor of the three men who had staid behind from weakness, and buried the other two; but the poor invalid died next day.

On the arrival of the boats at Rostoe, Quirini was quartered with the principal person of the island: This man's son led him to his father's dwelling, as his debility was so great he was unable to walk without assistance. The mistress of the house and her maid came forwards to meet him, when he would have fallen at her feet; but she would not permit him, and immediately got him a bason of milk from the house, to comfort him and restore his strength. During three months and a half that Quirini dwelt in this house, he experienced the greatest friendship and humanity from the owners; while in return he endeavoured by complaisance to acquire the good will of his kind hosts, and to requite their benevolence. The other partners of his misfortunes were distributed among the other houses of the place, and were all taken good care of.

The rocky isle of Rost, or Rostoe, lies 70 Italian miles to the westwards of the southern promontory of Norway, which in their language they call the world's backside, and is three miles in circumference.[2] This rocky isle was inhabited at this time by 120 souls, of whom 72 received the holy communion on Easter-day like good catholics. They get their livelihood and maintain their families entirely by fishing, as no corn of any kind grows in this very remote part of the world. From the 20th of November to the 20th of February, the nights were twenty-one hours long; and on the contrary, from the 20th of May to the 20th of August the sun is either always seen, or at least the light which proceeds from it. Thus during June, July and August, they may be said to have one continued day of three months; while in the opposite months of winter they have one almost continued night. During the whole year they catch an incredible quantity of fish; which, however, are almost solely of two kinds. One of these they catch in prodigious quantities in the great bays, which they call stockfish.[3] The other, called Halibut, is a kind of flat fish of an astonishing size, for one of them was found to weigh near two hundred pounds. The stockfish are dried without being salted, in the sun and air; and, as they have little fat or moisture, they grow as dry as wood. When they are to be prepared for eating, they are beaten very hard with the back part of a hatchet, by which they are divided into filaments like nerves; after which they are boiled, and dressed with butter and spices to give them a relish. The people of this country carry on a considerable trade with these dried stockfish into Germany. The halibuts are cut into pieces on account of their great size, and are then salted; in which state they are very good eating. With these two kinds of fish the people of Rostoe load every year a ship of about 50 tons burthen, which they send to Bergen, a place in Norway, about a thousand miles from their island; and from whence a great number of ships of 300 or 330 tons burthen, carry all the produce of the fisheries of different parts of Norway into Germany, England, Scotland, and Prussia, where they are exchanged against the produce of these countries, particularly for every necessary article of food, drink and clothing, as their own country is so extremely barren and unfruitful, that they cannot raise these things for themselves.

Thus, most of their traffic being carried on by means of barter, they have little money among them, nor is it very necessary. When these exchanges have been made at Bergen, the vessel returns to Rostoe, landing in one other place only, whence they carry wood sufficient for a whole year's fuel, and for other necessary purposes.

The inhabitants of these rocks are a well-looking people, and of pure morals. Not being in the least afraid of robbery, they never lock up any thing, and their doors are always open. Their women also are not watched in the smallest degree; for the guests sleep in the same room with the husbands and their wives and daughters; who even stripped themselves quite naked in presence of the strangers before going to bed; and the beds allotted for the foreigners stood close to those in which their sons and daughters slept. Every other day the fathers and sons went out a-fishing by day-break, and were absent for eight hours together, without being under the least anxiety for the honour and chastity of their wives and daughters.[4] In the beginning of May, the women usually begin to bathe; and custom and purity of morals has made it a law among them, that they should first strip themselves quite naked at home, and they then go to the bath at the distance of a bow-shot from the house. In their right hands they carry a bundle of herbs to wipe the moisture from their backs, and extend their left hands before them, as if to cover the parts of shame, though they do not seem to take much pains about the matter. In the bath they are seen promiscuously with the men.[5] They have no notion of fornication or adultery; neither do they marry from sensual motives, but merely to conform to the divine command. They also abstain from cursing and swearing. At the death of relations, they shew the greatest resignation to the will of God, and even give thanks in the churches for having spared their friends so long, and in now calling them to be partakers of the bounty of heaven. They shew so little extravagance of grief and lamentation on these occasions, that it appeared as if the deceased had only fallen into a sweet sleep. If the deceased was married, the widow prepares a sumptuous banquet for the neighbours on the day of burial; when she and her guests appear in their best attire, and she entreats her guests to eat heartily, and to drink to the memory of the deceased, and to his eternal repose and happiness. They went regularly to church, where they prayed very devoutly on their knees, and they kept the fast days with great strictness.

Their houses are built of wood, in a round form, having a hole in the middle of the roof for the admission of light; and which hole they cover over in winter with a transparent fish skin, on account of the severity of the cold. Their clothes are made of coarse cloth, manufactured at London, and elsewhere. They wore furs but seldom; and in order to inure themselves to the coldness of their climate, they expose their new born infants, the fourth day after birth, naked under the sky-light, which they then open to allow the snow to fall upon them; for it snowed almost continually during the whole winter that Quirini and his people were there, from the 5th of February to the 14th of May. In consequence of this treatment, the boys are so inured to the cold, and become so hardy, that they do not mind it in the least.

The isle of Rostoe is frequented by a great number of white sea-fowl called Muris[6] in the language of the country. These birds are fond of living hear mankind, and are as tame and familiar as common pigeons. They make an incessant noise; and in summer, when it is almost one continued day for three months, they are only silent for about four hours in the twenty-four, and this silence serves to warn the inhabitants of the proper time of going to rest. In the early part of the spring, there arrived an amazing quantity of wild geese, which made their nests on the island, and even sometimes close to the walls of the houses. These birds are so very tame, that when the mistress of the house goes to take some eggs from the nest, the goose walks slowly away, and waits patiently till the woman has taken what she wants; and when the woman goes away, the goose immediately returns to her nest.

In the month of May, the inhabitants of Rostoe began to prepare for their voyage to Bergen, and were willing also to take the strangers along with them. Some days before their departure, the intelligence of their being at Rostoe reached the wife of the governor over all these islands; and, her husband being absent, she sent her chaplain to Quirini with a present of sixty stockfish, three large flat loaves of rye-bread and a cake: And at the same time desired him to be informed, that she was told the islanders had not used them well, and if he would say in what point they had been wronged, instant satisfaction should be afforded; it was also strongly recommended by that lady to the inhabitants, to give them good treatment, and to take them over to Bergen along with themselves. The strangers returned their sincere thanks to the lady for the interest she took in their welfare, and gave their full testimony, not only to the innocence of their hosts in regard to what had been alleged, but spoke of the kind reception they had experienced in the highest terms. As Quirini still had remaining a rosary of amber beads which he had brought from St Jago in Gallicia, he took the liberty of sending them to this lady, and requested her to use them in praying to God for their safe return into their own country.

When the time of their departure was come, the people of Rostoe, by the advice of their priest, forced them to pay two crowns for each month of their residence or seven crowns each; and as they had not sufficient cash for this purpose, they gave, besides money, six silver cups, six forks, and six spoons, with some other articles of small value, which they had saved from the wreck, as girdles and rings. The greater part of these things fell into the hands of the rascally priest; who, that nothing might be left to them of this unfortunate voyage, did not scruple to exact these as his due for having acted as their interpreter. On the day of their departure, all the inhabitants of Rostoe made them presents of fish; and on taking leave, both the inhabitants and the strangers shed tears. The priest, however, accompanied them to Bergen, to pay a visit to his archbishop, and to give him a part of the booty.

[1] Rost, or Rostoy.--Forst.
[2] The small island of _Rust_ probably the one in question, is the south-westernmost of the Loffoden isles of Norway, in lat. 67°. 80 N. long. 11°. E. and is about 80 statute miles from the nearest land of the continent of Norway to the east. The rest of the Loffoden islands are of considerable size, and are divided from Norway by the Westfiord, which grows considerably narrower as it advances to the north-east.--E.
[3] The Cod or Gadus Morrhua, is termed stock-fish when dried without salt.--E.
[4] This must have appeared a most wonderful reliance upon female chastity, in the opinion of jealous Italians, unaccustomed to the pure morals of the north.--E.
[5] This custom of promiscuous bathing is very ancient, and existed among the Romans, from whom it was learnt by the Greeks, but gave rise to such shameful lewdness, that it was prohibited by Hadrian and Antoninus. This law seems to have fallen into oblivion, as even the Christians in after times fell into the practice, and gave occasion to many decrees of councils and synods for its prohibition; yet with little effect, as even priests and monks bathed promiscuously along with the women. Justinian, in his 117th novel, among the lawful causes of divorce, mentions a married woman bathing along with men, unless with the permission of her husband. Russia probably adopted bathing from Constantinople along with Christianity, and in that country promiscuous bathing still continues; and they likewise use a bundle of herbs or rods, as mentioned in the text, for rubbing their bodies.--Forst.
Norway certainly did not learn the practice of bathing either from Rome or Constantinople. Some learned men are never content unless they can deduce the most ordinary practices from classical authority, as in the above note by Mr Forster.--E.
[6] The Norwegians call this species of sea fowl Maase; which is probably the Larus Candidus; a new species, named in the voyage of Captain Phipps, afterwards Lord Mulgrave, Larus eburneus, from being perfectly white. By John Muller, plate xii. it is named Larus albus; and seems to be the same called Raths kerr, in Martens Spitzbergen, and Wald Maase, in Leoms Lapland. The Greenlanders call it Vagavarsuk. It is a very bold bird, and only inhabits the high northern latitudes, in Finmark, Norway, Iceland, Greenland, and Spitzbergen. This Maase, or sea-gull, is probably the white Muxis of the text.--Forst.



Volume 1, Chapter 18, Section 3 -- Voyage from Rostoe to Drontheim, and journey thence into Sweden.

At their departure from Rostoe, the season was so far advanced, being now the end of May, that during this voyage they saw the image of the sun for forty-eight hours above the horizon; but as they sailed farther to the south, they lost the sun for one hour, though it continued broad day the whole time. Their whole course lay between rocks, and they perceived here and there, near the projecting points of land, the marks of deep navigable waters, which intersected the coast. Many of these rocks were inhabited, and they were received very hospitably by the inhabitants, who freely gave them meat and drink, and would accept of no recompense. The sea-fowl, which, when awake, are always loud and noisy, they found had built their nests in all the rocks past which they now sailed, and the silence of these birds was a signal for them likewise to go to rest.

In the course of their voyage, they met the bishop of Drontheim; who, with two gallies, and attended by 200 people, was making the tour of his diocese, which extends over all these countries and islands. They were presented to this prelate, who, being informed of their rank, country, and misfortunes, expressed great compassion for them; and gave them a letter of recommendation for his episcopal residence at Drontheim, where St. Olave, one of the kings of Norway, was buried. This letter procured them a kind reception at this place. As the king of Norway happened at this time to be at war with the Germans, the host of Quirini, who was likewise master of the vessel, refused to sail any further; but landing them at a small inhabited island near Drontheim, recommended them to the care of the inhabitants, and immediately returned home. On the next day, which was Ascension day, they were conducted to Drontheim, and went into the church of St. Olave, which was handsomely ornamented, and where they found the lord-lieutenant with a great number of the inhabitants. After hearing mass, they were conducted before the lord-lieutenant, who asked Quirini if he spoke Latin? and being informed by him that he did, invited him and all his attendants to his table, to which they were conducted by a canon. They were afterwards taken, by the same canon, to good and  comfortable lodgings, and were amply provided with all kinds of necessaries.

As Quirini wished for nothing more than to return to his own country, he desired therefore advice and assistance to enable him to travel either by the way of Germany or England. That they might avoid travelling too much by sea, which was not safe on account of the war, they were advised to apply to their countryman, Giovanne Franco, who had been knighted by the king of Denmark, and who resided at his castle of Stichimborg, or Stegeborg, in east Gothland, in the kingdom of Sweden, at the distance of fifty days journey from Drontheim. Eight days after their arrival in Drontheim, the lord-lieutenant gave them two horses and a guide to conduct them to Stegeborg; and as Quirini had presented him with his share of the stockfish, a silver seal, and a silver girdle, he received in return a hat, a pair of boots and spurs, a leathern cloak-bag, a small axe, with the image of St. Olave, and the lieutenants coat of arms engraved on it, a packet of herrings, some bread, and four Rhenish guilders. Besides the two horses from the lieutenant, they received a third horse from the bishop; and, being now twelve in number, they set out together on their journey, with their guide and three horses. They travelled on for the space of fifty-three days, chiefly to the south or S.S.E., and frequently met with such miserable inns on the road, that they could not even procure bread at them. In some places they were reduced to such shifts, that the wretched inhabitants grinded the bark of trees, and made this substance into cakes with milk and butter, as a substitute for bread. Besides this they had milk, butter, and cheese given them, and whey for drink. Sometimes they met with better inns, where they could procure meat and beer. They met with a kind and hearty welcome, and most hospitable reception wherever they went.

There are but few dwellings in Norway, and they often arrived at the places where they were to stop in the night, or time of repose, though broad daylight. On these occasions, their guide, knowing the customs of the country, opened the door of the house without ceremony, in which they found a table surrounded by benches covered with leathern cushions, stuffed with feathers, which served them for mattresses. As nothing was locked up, they took such victuals as they could find, and then went to rest. Sometimes the masters of the houses in which they stopt would come in and find them asleep, and be much amazed till the guide acquainted them with their story, on which their astonishment became mingled with compassion, and they would give the travellers every thing necessary without taking any remuneration; by which means these twelve persons, with the three horses, did not spend more than the four guilders they had received at Drontheim, during their journey of fifty-three days.

On the road they met with horrid barren mountains and vallies, and with a great number of animals like roes,[1] besides abundance of fowls, such as hasel-hens, and heath-cocks, which were as white as snow, and pheasants the size of a goose.[2] In St Olave's church at Drontheim, they saw the skin of a white bear, which was fourteen feet and a half long; and they observed other birds, such as gerfalcons, goss-hawks,[3] and several other kinds of hawks, to be much whiter than in other places, on account of the coldness of the country.

Four days before they reached Stegeborg, they came to a town called Wadstena, in which St Bridget was born, and where she had founded a nunnery, together with chaplains of the same order. At this place the northern kings and princes have built a most magnificent church covered with copper, in which they counted sixty-two altars. The nuns and chaplains received the strangers with great kindness; and, after resting two days, they set out to wait on the chevalier Giovanne Franco, who relieved them in a manner that did honour to his generosity, and did every thing in his power to comfort them in their distressed situation. A fortnight after their arrival at his residence, a plenary indulgence was given at the church of St Bridget, in Wadstena, to which people from Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and even from Germany, Holland, and Scotland, came to partake; some of whom came from a distance of more than 600 miles. They went to the indulgence at Wadstena along with Giovanne Franco, in order to inquire if there were any ships bound for Germany or England, there being always a great concourse of people on such occasions. The chevalier was five days on the road, and had more than 100 horses in his train. At Wadstena they took leave of their beneficent countryman, who furnished them amply with money and clothes for their journey, and ordered his son Matthew, a very amiable young man, to accompany them eight days journey on their way to Lodese, on the river Gotha; and where he lodged them in his own house for some time, till the ship in which they were to embark was ready to sail The chevalier Franco lent them his own horses all the way from his castle of Stegeborg; and, as Quirini was ill of a fever, he mounted him on a horse which had a wonderfully easy pace.

From Lodese, three of Quirini's crew went home in a vessel bound for Rostock, and eight of them accompanied him to England, where they came to their friends in London, by way of Ely and Cambridge. After residing two months at London, they took shipping thence for Germany; and, travelling thence by way of Basil, in Switzerland, they arrived, after a journey of twenty-four days, in safety and good health at Venice.

[1] The Rein-deer, Cervus tarandus, Lin.--Forst.
[2] Probably the Tetrao lagopus, Lin.--Forst.
[3] Falco Gyrfalcus, and Falco astur.--Forst.


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