Agust Gisli Grimsson Breidfjord
His Story - Part 1
Translated from his handwritten Icelandic by Anna Bjornson
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Agust Gisli Grimsson Breidfjord His Story - Part 1 Translated from his handwritten Icelandic by Anna Bjornson |
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For a long time I have been thinking that I should write about my forbearers, though the account will not be as complete as I would like it to be. I regret that I did not learn more about these things when I was young, by asking my parents what they knew of the life of our ancestors. It is not with a feeling of false pride that I approach the subject of my roots, but rather the need to pass on to my children and their descendents the story of their family, as I know it. I want them to know that many of their fathers were very gifted people, though very few of them were paid officials, not for lack of qualification for such a position, but for other things which stood in their way. I will not go into that here. As a whole, they were industrious and courageous people, who worked honestly for their daily bread, as I have been told by all who knew them. I came into this world in the year 1867 (11 August), born at Litli Kambi in the district of Breiðavik in Snæfellsnes sýsla. My full name is August Gisli Grimsson Breidfjord (I took the name Breidfjord when I left Iceland for Canada, in memory of my growing up years, for it was in Breiðafjord that I spent the first 25 years of my life. There I laughed and cried as children are want to do. (And I think that is natural). My father was Grimur Jóhannesson Grimsson. My great-grandfather was a man from Eyjafjord, whose son, Jóhannes, my grandfather, moved to Dalasýsla and lived in several different places in Dala and Snæfellsnes sýslas. (I will mention this later). My father, who died in 1923, was born in Thingvöllum in Helgafelssveit in Snæfellsnes sýsla in 1835, during his parents’ stay there. His father, Jóhannes Grimsson’s parents, were natives of Eyjafjörd and that is all I know about my father’s family. I now regret that I did not ask questions about my family when I was younger. I think, perhaps, that my father did not know too much about his paternal ancestors. He told me that his grandfather, Grimmur, my great-grandfather, had come from Eyjafjord and had at one time, made his home in Grimsey. That is all he seemed to know about his father’s family. Lather on, I plan to tell more about my grand-father, Jóhannes. My father’s maternal ancestors came from Thingeyjarsýsla. My father’s mother was closely related to the poet, Einar Asmundsson of Nesi, a man, well known and held in high regard by all who knew him. If I remember rightly, Einar was the first member of the farming class to be elected to the Althing after it began to sit in Reykjavik. My grandmother was very fond of books and reading, as most of the people of Thingeyjarsýsla are said to be. No doubt, it is from this part of the family that my father inherited his great longing for an education, an ambition he was unable to fulfill, as were so many of the people of the Iceland of that day. My father’s father or my grandfather and his wife (I think her name was Geirlaug) were the parents of three boys, one of whom died at an early age, but my father and his brother, Jóhann Geir, reached maturity. Jóhann Geir moved to New Iceland in Canada, one of the first to do so. Later Jóhann Geir moved to North Dakota where he resided until the day of his death. Two of his children are well known in that area. Their names are Kristjan Geir and Lauga Geir. Kristjan Geir lives on a farm near Eyford where he is a gardener, specializing in flowers and fruit trees. He has made a name for himself in this occupation. He has many successful descendents. His sister, Lauga Geir, lives in Edinburg, N.D. where she is a teacher. Teaching is a profession which she has followed most of her life. She is an intelligent woman, well thought of by those who know her well and she has had a big share in bringing up her foster brother’s children. Now I wish to speak of my mother’s family, which is very large, especially her paternal ancestors. Her full name was Juliana Ragnheidur Benediktsdóttir Sigurðsson, granddaughter of Sigurður, student from Geitar eyum on Breidafjord. My mother was born in Galtardal on Fellsstrand in Dalasýsla in Iceland, where her father lived during the year 1836. She died in 1913 at the age of 76. Sigurður, my mother’s grand-father was usually referred to as “student.” He fathered 14 children, most of whom reached maturity and were considered good looking, energetic and industrious, as well as intelligent. They were well known in Breidfjord but as I said in the beginning, I did not ask many questions about my family when I was young, though I’m sure that would have been easy to acquire this knowledge at that time. Now I will mention five of the sons of Sigurður and Geitur Eyum, whom I have mentioned many times and were well known in Breidafjord and vicinity in the latter part of the eighteenth and early part of the nineteenth century. First I will mention my grandfather, Benedikt. He dwelt in Galtardal in Fellsstrand in Dalasýsla in Iceland. His wife, my grandmother, was Guðriður Gisladóttir. Gisli was nicknamed “the strong” and dwelt in Myrarsýsla (I am not going to write anymore about that). My grandfather, Benedikt, had two children with his wife, my mother and one son named Larus who died at an early age. Another son of Sigurður of Geitar Eyum was Larus who graduated from the Latin School in Reykjavik. He planned to sail for Denmark to continue his studies but became ill and died at an early age. The poet, Jónas Hallgrimsson, wrote a poem about him, which he titled “Sökundur” (Sorrow). “I saw the god lad who trusted God, Young and one of our country’s hopes for the future. Larus was lying in his coffin As I bade my country adieu.” The third son of Sigurður Student was Sæmundur, a long time resident of Stikkisholmi on Breidafjord, who worked as a ship builder. In his time, he built most of the boats on Breidafjord, large and small, all the way from a four-man passenger boat to the largest open ship, then being built in Breidafjord, called a ten-man boat as there were ten men at the oars. Sæmundur was an energetic man and a good ship builder. He married and became the father of many children. I knew his son whose name was Larus, who was also a shipbuilder. Sigurður’s fourth son was Jón, who took over Geitureyum after his father died. His son was Kristján, known as Kristján of Geitarey. He was well known in that area as he made his home there. He was very intelligent, witty and of a cheerful disposition and an entertaining conversationalist, whose company everyone enjoyed. He was also very skilled at handwork. Kristján married and had one son who reached maturity. Sigurður’s fifth son was Elias, my grandfather’s (and the above mentioned sons of Sigurdur), half-brother. He dwelt in Straumfjordar tungu beside Faxafloa, where Snæfellsnes and Mirarfylsa meet, or in that vicinity. Elias’ son was Jóhann Straumfjord, best known in New Iceland on this side of the Atlantic. He lived for many years on a small island in Lake Winnipeg. He had one brother who reached maturity who remained in Iceland and one sister Gargnheiður by name. Her son was Magnus Smith, Chess champion of Canada. Jóhann Straumfjord was a gifted man, a great worker and was considered the chief man of his community. He did not seem to fit into a small area of 120 acres. Had he had more land, he’d have been an example to his contemporaries, as the agricultural efficiency expert of his time. Later in life, Jóhann practiced homeopathy and was able to help many people, for his will to assist never flagged. He was the father of many children who are well known in Manitoba, Canada, and here on the West Coast. These children have become the ancestors of many branches of that family. Now, I wish to mention the brother of my great grandfather, Sigurður Student of Geitareyum. His name was Vigfus and he took the name of Fjeldsted and was known as Vigfus, the goldsmith, Fjeldsted. This is a very large family, with branches in Iceland and America. Vigfus and my great grandfather, Sigurður were the strongest and healthiest men of their time. Larus Fjeldsted, a farmer in Eirarsveit in Snæfellsnes was the son of Vigfus Fjeldsted. When I was about 7 years old, my mother and I visited Hildur of Brokey. She was a widow with a son about 12 or 14 years old. I remember that she gave me a little sailboat, which had a steering wheel and a hook on the stern. It was painted red and white, very well made by this young lad who showed great talent in carpentry. It has been proven that this family was very intelligent and gifted. I have now given a short summary of the paternal side of my mother’s family so now I would like to tell about the maternal side. As I said before in this rambling story of my family, my grandmother’s name was Guðriður Gisladóttir of the Bustarfells family of Myrarsýslu. Her father, Gisli was known as Kisly the Strong, well known for his robust build. This may not be too noteworthy, but I heard the story of a time when he was no a seal hunt in the olden days when there was a large herd of seals lying about on the rocks, sunning themselves. The men would creep up on them and club them to death. Gisli, my great-grandfather, was helping with this business when he saw a large gray seal lying on a rock near by. He approached the seal, grabbed him by the back flipper and did not let go until some men came to club the seal. This was considered quite a feat of strength as it was some time before anyone noticed Gisli and the seal, for great-grandpa was in no hurry to call for help. The seal could easily have escaped being half way off the rock when Gisli grabbed him. It can be argued that this was not really a great feat but the man who told me the story seemed to think it was. Those who have seen the great gray seal do not class his capture with the act of playing games with a lamb. I tell this story not with any great sense of pride, but I thought it quite interesting. I seem to remember that Gisli’s last name was Vigfusson, but as I said in the beginning of this article, I am not too well versed in family history, and none of my family had had a genealogy compiled when I lived in Iceland sixty-two years ago. My mother told me about two of the children of her grandfather, Gisli. Their names were Guðriður, my Mother’s mother, and Vigfus, the father of Sigruður, the archeologist of Reykjavik in the latter part of the nineteenth century, who was well known in Iceland. The brother of Sigurður, the archeologist, was Dr. Guðbranður Vigfusson, who spent most of his life in England and died there. Dr. Helgí Petursson said in one of his books, that Guðbranður Vigfusson had been one of the most intelligent men of his time and a master of the Icelandic language, so much so that few Icelanders of later years have written the language better than he, (if any), for example the well written travelogues to Norway and Germany. This gift of language was a legacy handed down in that family, for great speakers such as Hallgrimur Petursson and Jónas Hallgrimsson were, like Guðbranður, in a direct paternal line, descended from Sveinbjorn (officialis) Thordasson, who fathered the largest number of children and is nicknamed “Sveinbjorn of the Children.” Hannes Hafsteinn writes in “The Biography of Jónas Hallgrimsson” that he was descended from the sister of Halgrimur Petursson, but I believe the relationship was closer than that. This greatest poet of our day was descended from this Icelandic family. My friend, Pall Erlingsson, told me (if I remember rightly), that the maternal grandfather, Erling, the father of Thorsteinn and Pall Erlingsson, was a direct descendent of Sveinbjorn, in the male line. Guðbranður Vigfusson had all the capabilities necessary of becoming a famous writer or scientist, but being an Icelander, his chances of advancement were limited, though he lived in Denmark and in England. The work he did there was worthy of recognition as a man learned in ancient lore, for in his day, Icelandic sagas did not receive the appreciation that they do now. Guðbranður Vigfusson was born in 1827. Dr. Helgí Petursson writes the above about the family and work done by Guðbranður, my mother’s cousin. I would like to add that my father said that Guðbranður had translated Njal’s saga into English and perhaps other Icelandic sagas as well, but the work he did for Icelandic literature has not been given much publicity. This may be because he spent most of his life in England after becoming to all intents and purposes an outlaw from Iceland and Denmark. The same thing may be said of his brother, Sigurður, the archeologist, even though he did spend his life in Reykjavik, his work got very little attention. According to a poem written by Thorsteinn Erlingsson, it is evident, that Sigurður and Thorsteinn were very well acquainted. I include some verses (3 or 4) of the powem written after Sigurður’s death: A ship has come from Iceland With the message, dearest friend That your story has been written For your life has reached its end.
Very often we have thought Things would better get When on one’s life a period Already Death had set.
He has made a sudden end To your lifetime’s story And on each page is something told To our country’s glory.
There was nothing to be done This, we all could see Sorrowfully understood How the end must be.
This is how your story ends Forgotten very soon But it will not trouble you Deep within your tomb.
Filled with hardship are man’s days Robbed by Fate’s cruel hand ‘Tis a story often told Of people of our land. Thus said Thorsteinn, the great and gentle poet. He suffered the sorrows of others---that tender hearted soul. It is a blessing that conditions have changed. Now everyone in Iceland can be educated if he so wishes and when his talents are appreciated and when a job is well done, suitably rewarded. I am not going to speak anymore about my family, which I do not know too much about but I do know that these people of my family were well known and well thought of and I have no need to be ashamed of them but I am not going to take advantage of their worth. This would not be the right thing to do, though it is often done. I have done little to be proud of, not being able to tell of any great deeds of my own, but I wish to thank God for His Love and for leading me and mine though this life on earth so beautifully. I have often felt the strength of the Almighty’s love and I do believe that power will not let me lose its warm comforting hand during the rest of my stay on this planet. And then will come the bright life of eternity. This, I think, is the hope of everyone, Christian or Atheist. Everything points to a continuation of life in another existence, though we short-sighted men feel that things progress slowly. |