Letters on Sweden, Norway and Denmark | Page 7

In the morning,
however, after we had lost sight of the entrance of the latter bay, the
vessel was becalmed; and the captain, to oblige me, hanging out a
signal for a pilot, bore down towards the shore.
My attention was particularly directed to the lighthouse, and you can
scarcely imagine with what anxiety I watched two long hours for a boat
to emancipate me; still no one appeared. Every cloud that flitted on the
horizon was hailed as a liberator, till approaching nearer, like most of
the prospects sketched by hope, it dissolved under the eye into
disappointment.
Weary of expectation, I then began to converse with the captain on the
subject, and from the tenor of the information my questions drew forth
I soon concluded that if I waited for a boat I had little chance of getting
on shore at this place. Despotism, as is usually the case, I found had
here cramped the industry of man. The pilots being paid by the king,
and scantily, they will not run into any danger, or even quit their hovels,
if they can possibly avoid it, only to fulfil what is termed their duty.
How different is it on the English coast, where, in the most stormy

weather, boats immediately hail you, brought out by the expectation of
extraordinary profit.
Disliking to sail for Elsineur, and still more to lie at anchor or cruise
about the coast for several days, I exerted all my rhetoric to prevail on
the captain to let me have the ship's boat, and though I added the most
forcible of arguments, I for a long the addressed him in vain.
It is a kind of rule at sea not to send out a boat. The captain was a
good-natured man; but men with common minds seldom break through
general rules. Prudence is ever the resort of weakness, and they rarely
go as far as they may in any undertaking who are determined not to go
beyond it on any account. If, however, I had some trouble with the
captain, I did not lose much time with the sailors, for they, all alacrity,
hoisted out the boat the moment I obtained permission, and promised to
row me to the lighthouse.
I did not once allow myself to doubt of obtaining a conveyance from
thence round the rocks--and then away for Gothenburg--confinement is
so unpleasant.
The day was fine, and I enjoyed the water till, approaching the little
island, poor Marguerite, whose timidity always acts as a feeler before
her adventuring spirit, began to wonder at our not seeing any
inhabitants. I did not listen to her. But when, on landing, the same
silence prevailed, I caught the alarm, which was not lessened by the
sight of two old men whom we forced out of their wretched hut.
Scarcely human in their appearance, we with difficulty obtained an
intelligible reply to our questions, the result of which was that they had
no boat, and were not allowed to quit their post on any pretence. But
they informed us that there was at the other side, eight or ten miles over,
a pilot's dwelling. Two guineas tempted the sailors to risk the captain's
displeasure, and once more embark to row me over.
The weather was pleasant, and the appearance of the shore so grand
that I should have enjoyed the two hours it took to reach it, but for the
fatigue which was too visible in the countenances of the sailors, who,
instead of uttering a complaint, were, with the thoughtless hilarity
peculiar to them, joking about the possibility of the captain's taking
advantage of a slight westerly breeze, which was springing up, to sail
without them. Yet, in spite of their good humour, I could not help
growing uneasy when the shore, receding, as it were, as we advanced,

seemed to promise no end to their toil. This anxiety increased when,
turning into the most picturesque bay I ever saw, my eyes sought in
vain for the vestige of a human habitation. Before I could determine
what step to take in such a dilemma (for I could not bear to think of
returning to the ship), the sight of a barge relieved me, and we hastened
towards it for information. We were immediately directed to pass some
jutting rocks, when we should see a pilot's hut.
There was a solemn silence in this scene which made itself be felt. The
sunbeams that played on the ocean, scarcely ruffled by the lightest
breeze, contrasted with the huge dark rocks, that looked like the rude
materials of creation forming the barrier of unwrought space, forcibly
struck me, but I should not have been sorry if the cottage had not
appeared equally tranquil. Approaching a retreat where strangers,
especially women, so