Lycksele Lappmark

The fishermen I saw had been fishing 40 or 50 miles or more above Lycksele since Easter. I went with one of them to where they were staying and their catch was, on average, 370 pounds of dried fish per man. Since they live 35 miles below Lycksele church in a place where there is not even the smallest stream flowing to the sea, it is strange that they are allowed to drive away the Lapp and to enjoy the freedom of fishing up here without paying the smallest tax to the crown or tithe to the priest of the parish in which they are fishing (as other fishermen have to). Nor do they pay rent to the Lapps, who do pay tax for their land and complain that they have been badly treated in every way but dare not even open their mouths about it. I asked why they do not put in a complaint and they replied: “We cannot, alas, turn to the authorities. These people are allowed to treat us as they like and encroach upon our rights in whatever way they wish. We cannot bear witness against them because we’re so scattered in the wilderness here – hence these tears.15 We can never believe that this is the will of our gracious sovereign but, if we knew that it was, we would at least have that satisfaction”.

The priests complained that, even after they have served in this wilderness with perseverance and diligence, they do not get advancement like those who serve where there is a school or the like easily accessible. After 20 years service up here they thought they deserved a small country living somewhere where they could accustom their growing children to the society of decent people. A schoolmaster who has striven with great dedication to teach Lapp boys as much Swedish in 2 years as his predecessor did in 10 – which is a task a good deal more difficult than following the plough – has no choice but to remain here and see his talents go to waste.

There is some good grazing here and there in the forests but there is little arable or pasture land, particularly arable. After the grass has been cut on the boggy ground for one or at most two years, there is no further growth and bogmoss grows over it and the hog thus becomes barren. I think that this very extensive province could be cultivated just as much as Hälsingland which, after all, is extremely hilly and less tractable than it is here. I have seen great mosses of flow-meadow or utter bog that I am sure could become good meadowland if the water were provided with some small channel to allow it to drain away. They have experimented with this and say that no grass at all will grow afterwards since, because of the tussocks and ‘Juncus radice implicat’ [Deergrass], everything dries up. All that should be grubbed up and removed, then the land should be ditched and the peat turned over.

As to the forest: if it is extensively felled and birch allowed to grow in its place, then grass will grow better; but where the soil is sour because of the underlying rock, things will become even worse. The sandy heaths are worst of all because, wherever the forest is burned off, only the sand remains and nothing will grow on it for up to 10 or 20 years. It is worth asking whether the forest, if it was felled more and left lying to cover the ground and rot away gradually, might possibly convert into humus. They sow buckwheat on the sand in Skane but that cannot be sown here because of the winter and the cold. It is worth investigating how moss can be eradicated.

I was amazed that the Lapps here, given that they have immediate access to forests, do not build themselves 16 to 20 small houses in which it is possible to walk upright. They replied: “In summer we are in one place and in winter in another perhaps 130 miles away where we can get moss for our reindeer”. I asked why they do not collect reindeer moss during the summer so that they can give it to the animals as fodder during the winter. They said that was impossible since in the summer they dwell where there are fish but in winter move far away to where the reindeer moss grows.

The Lapps eat a considerable amount of meat, for each household of 4 people eats as much as a reindeer a week right from when the fishing stops to when the fish once again begin to take. It is worth asking whether this method of housekeeping could be made more economical. When he does not catch fish, the Lapp must either starve to death or slaughter reindeer during the summer. He owns no cattle or livestock other than his reindeer and his dogs, for he cannot trail any other creatures along with him on his wanderings. He eats wolverine, squirrel, pine-marten, bear and beaver when he can shoot them – everything, in fact, except fox and wolf otherwise his whole diet consists of reindeer, birds, fish and water. One reindeer a week is slaughtered for every 4 Lapps, and 1 reindeer is equivalent to 1/3 of an ox. That makes 30 reindeer during the winter, ie. 10 oxen, whereas a farmer gets quite sufficient from one.

When times get hard around here, the farmers eat chaff and even pine bark, which they peel off, remove the scales, grind and bake. They also keep it for their cattle, cutting it obliquely in pieces the size of 2 fingers and giving it to the cattle, goats and sheep. This economises considerably on fodder. The bark is peeled off when the sap is rising and then dried in the sun and kept for the winter. They grind it and bake bread from the flour. They also use it to make swill for fattening pigs and the animals fatten up well on it, thus making a saving on grain.

It is mainly tormentil that the Lapps use to dye their wool red, and they use alder bark to dye their hides. Lapp trousers reach down to the feet and are tied around the outside of the boots, thus preventing the entry of water. Their feet are bare inside the boot. They do not button up their trousers as the waistband has a loose piece of thin cord attached which they pull in according to their girth and tie in a knot on the outside. There is no opening in front of the penis; instead, they push and pull their trousers up and down over their thighs without any hindrance from the shirt. When a Lapp pisses, he pushes the waistband down at the front and passes water in this way.

Diseases of the Lapps: fevers very unusual, smallpox rare; because of the distance between the inhabitants old people often die of smallpox, and other fevers are similarly serious. A single case of the ague, likewise the stone. They cure a cough with sulphur, which they put on kindling-wood or on the fire and inhale the smoke; this is a specific medicine but a very unreliable one.

For aches and headaches etc. they place a small piece of tinder-wood where the ache is most intense and let it lie there glowing until the skin itself flicks it off. This is the Lappish version of “moxa”.

In the case of a protruding uvula they clip off the tip of the uvula with scissors. Bartholin suggests this too.

For severe stomach pains in children (wrongly called colic earlier) they rub in salt around the navel and also take salt.

“Bjornstut” [Garden Angelica] is a different plant from both “Botsko” and Angelica. These constitute 3 distinct species; [later emendation] no, only 2.

Nature, which has given man everything in abundance and provided for him so well that he lacks nothing, has even given him bedclothes in this desolate wilderness. ‘Polytrichum prolif., maximum Vaill.’ [moss], “Romsi” in Lappish, grows in wettish and damp woods here.18 They cut all round a piece the size they want their bed to be, cut it free on the underside and pick it up from the ground. It is not especially branchy but the roots are so tangled that it cannot fall to pieces. This moss is soft and does not go lumpy when you lie on it; in fact, it holds its own against the finest bed. The same sort of moss can be used on top as a coverlet. I would be tempted to say that quilts are merely imitations of this if I knew of anyone who had given an earlier description of the moss. I have slept in it and been filled with admiration. It is necessity that has taught the Lapps this. This bed can be squeezed together from the sides and tied into a little bundle slim enough to be held in 2 hands. They take it with them and keep it for the next night when, after being sprinkled with a little water, it regains its former elasticity.