of Iceland.

He himself goes in one of his ships every year, and stays a few months in
Iceland to settle his affairs there. On the recommendation of Herr
Gottschalk, Herr Knudson was kind enough to give me a passage in the ship
in which he made the journey himself; a favour which I knew how to value.
It is certainly no small kindness to take a lady passenger on such a
journey. Herr Knudson knew neither my fortitude nor my perseverance; he
did not know whether I should be able to endure the hardships of a
journey to the north, whether I would bear sea-sickness philosophically,
or even if I had courage enough, in case of storms or bad weather, to
abstain from annoying the captain by my fears or complaints at a time
when he would only have too much to harass him. The kind man allowed no
such considerations to influence him. He believed me when I promised to
behave courageously come what might, and took me with him. Indeed his
kindness went so far that it is to him I owe every comfort I enjoyed in
Iceland, and every assistance in furthering the attainment of my
journey's object. I could certainly not have commenced a voyage under
better auspices.

All ships visiting Iceland leave Copenhagen at the end of April, or at
the latest in the middle of May. After this time only one ship is
despatched, to carry the mails of the Danish government. This vessel
leaves Copenhagen in October, remains in Iceland during the winter
months, and returns in March. The gain or loss of this expedition is
distributed in shares among the merchants of Copenhagen.

Besides this, a French frigate comes to Iceland every spring, and cruises
among the different harbours until the middle of August. She
superintends the fishing vessels, which, attracted by the large profits
of the fisheries, visit these seas in great numbers during the summer.
{17}

Opportunities of returning from Iceland occur during the summer until the
end of September, by means of the merchant-ships, which carry freights
from the island to Denmark, England, and Spain.

At length, on Sunday the 4th of May, a favourable wind sprung up. Herr
Knudson sent me word to be ready to embark at noon on board the fine brig
_John_.

I immediately proceeded on board. The anchor was weighed, and the sails,
unfolding themselves like giant wings, wafted us gently out of the
harbour of Copenhagen. No parting from children, relations, or
old-cherished friends embittered this hour.