Ch. 20 - Fahlun

We made our way at length out of the forest, and saw a town before us
enveloped in thick smoke, having a similar appearance to most of the
English manufacturing towns, save that the smoke was greenish--it was
the town Fahlun.

The road now went downwards between large banks, formed by the dross
deposited here from the smelting furnaces, and which looks like
burnt-out hardened lava. No sprout or shrub was to be seen, not a
blade of grass peeped forth by the way-side, not a bird flew past, but
a strong sulphurous smell, as from among the craters in Solfatara,
filled the air. The copper roof of the church shone with corrosive
green.

Long straight streets now appeared in view. It was as deathly still
here as if sickness and disease had lain within these dark wooden
houses, and frightened the inhabitants from coming abroad; yet
sickness and disease come but to few here, for when the plague raged
in Sweden, the rich and powerful of the land hastened to Fahlun, whose
sulphureous air was the most healthy. An ochre-yellow water runs
through the brook, between the houses; the smoke from the mines and
smelting furnaces has imparted its tinge to them; it has even
penetrated into the church, whose slender pillars are dark from the
fumes of the copper. There chanced to come on a thunder-storm when we
arrived, but its roaring and the lightning's flashes harmonized well
with this town, which appears as if it were built on the edge of a
crater.

We went to see the copper mine which gives the whole district the name
of "Stora Kopparberget," (the great copper mountain). According to the
legend, its riches were discovered by two goats which were
fighting--they struck the ground with their horns and some copper ore
adhered to them.

From the solitary red-ochre street we wandered over the great heaps of
burnt-out dross and fragments of stone, accumulated to whole ramparts
and hills. The fire shone from the smelting furnaces with green,
yellow and red tongues of flame under a blue-green smoke; half-naked,
black-smeared fellows threw out large glowing masses of fire, so that
the sparks flew around and about:--one was reminded of Schiller's
"Fridolin."

The thick sulphureous smoke poured forth from the heaps of cleansed
ore, under which the fire was in full activity, and the wind drove it
across the road which we must pass. In smoke, and impregnated with
smoke, stood building after building: three buildings had been
strangely thrown, as it were, by one another: earth and stone-heaps,
as if they were unfinished works of defence, extended around.
Scaffolding, and long wooden bridges, had been erected there; large
wheels turned round; long and heavy iron chains were in continual