The Eye of the Baltic.

THERE are places where the traveller is inclined to echo the words of Madame de Staël, "Voyager, c'est un triste plaisir." Visby in Gotland is such a place. Its silent grass-grown streets, and the blackened ruins of its once stately churches, suggest a mournful retrospect. We recall the days when, conspicuous among the towns of the Hanseatic League, the busy city despatched its ships to every European port, and welcomed traders from all parts of the commercial world. Visby must have afforded a most picturesque scene during the thirteenth century-the zenith of its prosperity. A strange medley of different nationalities then congregated in the narrow streets and found shelter in the quaint staircase-gabled houses, enriched with stained glass windows, carved doors, and frescoed walls-glories long since departed. Truly a strange medley, which included Russians, Germans, Dutch, and English, men from the far East and Scandinavian neighbours, cloistered monks and burly friars, nuns and sisters of different religious orders, with here and there a pilgrim in travel-stained cape, trimmed with shells from the shores of Palestine. And elbowing their way through this throng were also roystering knights, who had, like Chaucer's hero, "foughten for oure feith," attended by smart pages bearing bows and swords. The citizens themselves we may picture clad in tight doublets and breeches, short capes of Dutch cloth, and caps trimmed with fur, with long knives hanging from their leathern belts. When to the tongues of many nations was added the clang of the bells of eighteen churches tolling out for mass and prayer, the city must have been a very Babel. The motley crowd, with its busy din, has long since passed away, and Visby, the ghost of its former self, lies half concealed behind its ancient walls, a medieval, wellnigh forgotten relic.

Yet the Visby of to-day merits more from visitors to Sweden and the Baltic.

attention than it obtains

Its once fabulous wealth

has departed from it. The housewives no longer, as in the old tradition, use golden spindles, nor do the hogs eat from silver troughs; while of the eighteen churches of which the town once boasted, seventeen lie in irretrievable ruin, wrecked, it would seem, rather by the ruthlessness of man than by the ravages of time. Still Visby, even in ruins-we may say, indeed, because of its ruins and the associations that cling to them-is full of interest. Its early prosperity was largely due to the convenient position of Gotland in the Baltic, midway between the Swedish and Russian coasts. Until the new routes by Genoa and Venice and by the Cape of Good Hope were established, most of the commerce with the East passed through Russia, and Visby as a place of call became so prominent as to gain the name "Queen of the Baltic," or the "Eye of the Baltic." Old chronicles assert that even Solomon in all his glory was poorer in gold and silver and precious stones than was this small city.

Visby was one of the first to be enrolled among the Hanse towns, and took a leading part in the famous League. Its maritime code has served as a model for most of the European navigation laws. From the first the "Eye" of the Baltic was mainly directed to business. Its prosperity received royal recognition when Henry III. allowed the merchants of Gotland the privilege of free trade as regarded purchase and traffic in England. The enterprise of the traders enabled them to secure a double profit. They betook themselves, with other representatives of the League, to London, and established, close to Thames Street, a house called the Steelyard, which flourished for upwards of three centuries. Meanwhile the population increased rapidly in Visby, and the variety of religions called for the erection of numerous churches and religious buildings. Charitable guilds and hospitals were also established. The monks after their wont helped to beautify the town by planting walnut, chestnut, lime, and mulberry trees, some of which still thrive. But the chief charm of Visby lies in its grey walls, which as a specimen of ancient fortification are almost unique. Following the inequalities of the ground from the sea at the south end, they run round the site of the city until they again reach the shore. These walls were built at the cost of the peasantry of Gotland in 1288; each "Ting" or district being made responsible by the authorities for a tower, square, octagonal or round. Of these towers, thirty-six, as well as three massive gateways, were raised, so that even if the walls were scaled, the garrison might defend themselves from the shelter of the towers. In some are narrow slits, through which molten lead and boiling oil could be poured on the heads of the besiegers.

Many and various have been the vicissitudes of Visby, and they began early in its history. The name itself indicates a sacrificial village, and proved terribly prophetic. In 1028 the city was invaded by the Viking Warrior-Saint Olaf, who appears to have converted the inhabitants by duress rather than by persuasion, for he gave no quarter save to those who consented to receive baptism at his hands, and to pay a ransom of gold. Several civil wars ensued, which were succeeded by intermittent disputes with Sweden and Norway. Ravages by fire destroyed many of the churches and well-nigh laid the whole place in ashes. Ultimately the Danes turned envious eyes upon their opulent neighbour, and from them, in the year 1361, came the fatal blow to Visby's prosperity. Waldemar of Denmark, whose name is still used by young Gotlanders as a bugbear in their games, laid the town waste, and sacked its treasures. Just outside the southern gateway is a pleasant grassy spot, hard by the sea, the scene of the tremendous battle which ended so disastrously for the Gotlanders. An ancient stone cross, still in perfect preservation, commemorates the event, with the following Latin inscription: "Anno domini MCCCLXI. feria tertia post Jacobi ante portas Wisby in manibus danorum ceciderunt gutenses, hic sepulti, orate pro eis."

The victorious Danes quickly overran the island; houses and churches were pillaged, and huge beer vats, filled with gold and silver, were carried off. But the rapacity of Waldemar was unappeased until he had stripped the cathedral of its golden statues and other treasures, and added the sacred carbuncles of Visby to his spoils. These famous stones filled the rosaces of the church of St. Nicholas, remarkable even among the churches of Gotland for its lofty gables and long lancet windows. In the words of a chronicler of the times, the carbuncles "lighted the night as the sun does the day," so that the church served as a lighthouse for mariners. It is even said that twenty-five men guarded the treasure night and day, so great was its value. Undeterred by sentimental considerations, Waldemar laid his impious hand upon the sacred jewels, and shipped them off with the remainder of his spoil to Denmark. Ill luck, however, pursued the ship, and at Carlso, the rocky islet off the south coast, the vessel capsized and the precious freight was lost. To this day the seafaring folk of that port declare that on bright calm days dazzling gleams of light scintillate from the bottom of the ocean-the reflection of the sacred stones.

Visby never recovered from the dire effects of Waldemar's invasion. It remained the prey of alternate Danish and German

governors, who oppressed and plundered the country without scruple. In 1530 its desolation was completed by the excesses that accompanied the Reformation. The place sank into slow but sure decay, recovering in some degree under the mild rule of Sweden, to whom it has belonged, with but few interruptions, since the year 1645.

There were formerly eighteen churches in Visby alone. Of these, Santa Maria, the cathedral, is the only building now in use for public worship. The other churches date from the eleventh century, but Santa Maria is of a later period. There is much that is interesting in the building and its immediate surroundings, but at the present time it runs the risk of being spoilt by over restoration. Of greater interest is the ruin of Helige Ands (Holy Ghost). Within the tower is an upper church with pointed arches springing from circular columns. It is approached by a double staircase, and through an open archway a view is obtained of the choir. The same feature may be observed in some of the conventual churches of Italy, where nuns, concealed from view, take part in the services. Helige Ands, however, was built in 1046, two centuries before the separation of monks and nuns was decreed. Possibly the lower church may have been previously the temple of another religion, that of Odin, for example, which was exclusively followed in Scandinavia in the tenth century. Another theory with a greater show of probability, is that, as there was a hospital attached to the church, the sick may have occupied the upper portion while the convalescents worshipped below.

The people of Gotland retain many of their primitive characteristics, and old customs are held very sacred. For example, the cross is still signed before the fire is lighted or the dough kneaded, and the butcher will pluck hairs from the forehead of the beast and throw them into the fire before he slaughters. The island affords a fertile field to the lover of traditions and legends, which are accepted by the natives with the utmost credulity. Each ruined church possesses a legend of some kind. In connection with the Romanesque building of St. Clemens we read how a young journeyman shoemaker wandering through Italy in search of work chanced one day at a wayside tavern to overhear two monks relating stories of hidden treasures in churches known to them which had been plundered by the Reformers. The Church of St. Clemens at Visby was particularly mentioned.

"Oh, that we could return," cried one of the holy fathers, "and release the goose with its twenty-four goslings, all of purest gold, from its dark hiding-place in the church wall!"

"But do you not think," suggested the other, "that the cursed heretics have already plucked our goose and let her brood fly abroad?"

"Not so," replied his companion; "the treasure was too well concealed for a glimmer to be revealed"; and he proceeded to describe the hiding-place with a minuteness which left nothing to be desired. The journeyman's mouth watered as he listened attentively to every word. Why should not he himself find the treasure? Working his way to Dantzic, he passed thence to Visby. St. Clemens had been laid waste by fire, but the walls remained, and, under cover of night, he stole forth with the necessary tools and unearthed the treasure trove. Returning with all speed to Dantzic, he sold both goose and goslings, laying out the proceeds in the purchase of stock-in-trade, for he now saw his way to becoming a master cobbler. He then settled in Gotland, where he married and prospered, eventually rising to the position of burgomaster-the Whittington of Visby.

St. Lars and St. Drotten (Holy Trinity), with their dark square towers and round arches, stand side by side. They are said to owe their existence to a quarrel between the two sour-tempered daughters of a rich merchant. So embittered became the discord of the sisters that at length they were unable to worship in the same building. On the father's death each built for herself a temple of prayer-the one St. Lars, the other St. Drotten. In these "sister churches" the round and pointed arches are employed together, St. Lars being built in the shape of a Greek cross with four massive pillars supporting the central roof. It is a striking peculiarity of the Gotland churches that the pointed arch appears as a decorative feature earlier by half a century at least than in other parts of Europe. It may have been introduced from the East. To St. Per's or Peter's church, of which a mere fragment remains, is also attached a story of hidden treasure. A poor child playing among the ruins found a large sum of money. Filling her pinafore with as many pieces as she could carry, she bore them home in triumph; but from that moment she became hopelessly blind, and the remainder of the treasure was sought for in vain.

Each of the dark grey wall towers has also a name and tradition of its own. The most thrilling is that connected with the Maiden's Tower on the north-west side of the ancient wall. King Waldemar of Denmark plays the part of the hero, or, we may say, the villain of the story. In order to test the truth of the fabulous wealth of Visby, Waldemar disguised himself as a merchant, and, in the autumn of 1360, took up his abode at the farm of one Ung