Letters on Sweden, Norway, and Denmark
上QQ阅读APP看本书,新人免费读10天
设备和账号都新为新人

第45章 LETTER XVII(1)

I was unwilling to leave Gothenburg without visiting Trolhaettae.Iwished not only to see the cascade,but to observe the progress of the stupendous attempt to form a canal through the rocks,to the extent of an English mile and a half.

This work is carried on by a company,who employ daily nine hundred men;five years was the time mentioned in the proposals addressed to the public as necessary for the completion.A much more considerable sum than the plan requires has been subscribed,for which there is every reason to suppose the promoters will receive ample interest.

The Danes survey the progress of this work with a jealous eye,as it is principally undertaken to get clear of the Sound duty.

Arrived at Trolhaettae,I must own that the first view of the cascade disappointed me;and the sight of the works,as they advanced,though a grand proof of human industry,was not calculated to warm the fancy.I,however,wandered about;and at last coming to the conflux of the various cataracts rushing from different falls,struggling with the huge masses of rock,and rebounding from the profound cavities,I immediately retracted,acknowledging that it was indeed a grand object.A little island stood in the midst,covered with firs,which,by dividing the torrent,rendered it more picturesque;one half appearing to issue from a dark cavern,that fancy might easily imagine a vast fountain throwing up its waters from the very centre of the earth.

I gazed I know not how long,stunned with the noise,and growing giddy with only looking at the never-ceasing tumultuous motion,Ilistened,scarcely conscious where I was,when I observed a boy,half obscured by the sparkling foam,fishing under the impending rock on the other side.How he had descended I could not perceive;nothing like human footsteps appeared,and the horrific crags seemed to bid defiance even to the goat's activity.It looked like an abode only fit for the eagle,though in its crevices some pines darted up their spiral heads;but they only grew near the cascade,everywhere else sterility itself reigned with dreary grandeur;for the huge grey massy rocks,which probably had been torn asunder by some dreadful convulsion of nature,had not even their first covering of a little cleaving moss.There were so many appearances to excite the idea of chaos,that,instead of admiring the canal and the works,great as they are termed,and little as they appear,Icould not help regretting that such a noble scene had not been left in all its solitary sublimity.Amidst the awful roaring of the impetuous torrents,the noise of human instruments and the bustle of workmen,even the blowing up of the rocks when grand masses trembled in the darkened air,only resembled the insignificant sport of children.

One fall of water,partly made by art,when they were attempting to construct sluices,had an uncommonly grand effect;the water precipitated itself with immense velocity down a perpendicular,at least fifty or sixty yards,into a gulf,so concealed by the foam as to give full play to the fancy.There was a continual uproar.Istood on a rock to observe it,a kind of bridge formed by nature,nearly on a level with the commencement of the fall.After musing by it a long time I turned towards the other side,and saw a gentle stream stray calmly out.I should have concluded that it had no communication with the torrent had I not seen a huge log that fell headlong down the cascade steal peacefully into the purling stream.

I retired from these wild scenes with regret to a miserable inn,and next morning returned to Gothenburg,to prepare for my journey to Copenhagen.

I was sorry to leave Gothenburg without travelling farther into Sweden,yet I imagine I should only have seen a romantic country thinly inhabited,and these inhabitants struggling with poverty.