PREAMBLE
THE STORY OF ASMUNDUR
There are countless tales of courage about Western Canada's early
pioneers. The town of Baldur In the Rural Municipality of
Argyle In Southwestern Manitoba has its share of these sagas.
The most notable perhaps, is that of Asmiundur Asmundsson, who migrated
with his wife from Iceland la the summer of 1883.
Mr. and Mrs. Aanundsson took up a homestead northeast of Baldur on the
North East Quarter of Section 6-6-13 W 1.
Asmundur's story was written up by Jonas Porbergson, and appeared In
the Icelandic weekly Logberg, October11th, 1917. In
November of 1973 Caroline Gunnarson, present editor of Logberg-
HeimskringIa, translated the story of "Asmundar Saga Fotalausa" into
English. The following is the English translation of Jonas' original
story.
THE HEROIC PIONEER of ARGYLE MUNICIPALITY
Asmundur Assmundsson was born at Baegisstaoir in Pistilfjorour.
Iceland.
April 26, 1845. His parents were Asmundur Jonsson. who once famed at
Holi
in Kaupangasveit in Eyjafjordur and Kristfin Ingveldur Asmundsdottir
from
Fjoll in Kelduhverfi. When he was twelve years old Asmundur moved with
his
parents to Mana at Tjornnesi in S. Pingeyjasysla, and lived there with
them
until he was twenty years of age. At this tine he went to work at
Kelduhverfl
for three years, then returned to them again, where they farmed at
Porunnarsel
in Kelduhverfi. The following year he met with an occurrence which
greatly
affected his life from then on.
He had decided to support his parents to the end of their lives and
share
their fate, whatever it night be. It was decided to obtain a small
house
in the area, and his father seat him to Pistilfjord to make
arrangements
with the man concerned with the place. That journey will now be
reviewed.
He set out in the morning from Skogar In Axarfjordur to Nupur, and
thought
of going by the Axarfjord: moors, but was warned against this. for that
route
was difficult and very seldom travelled. He then set out for
Sandfellshagi,
which is the next farm beneath the moors on a well travelled road. It
was
late in the day when he reached the moors and the weather was not
promising.
He had hoped to meet another man who dad set out that morning to guide
a
traveller and was expected to return. He kept going but could not see
the
man's trail anywhere, which was not strange, as he had only covered
about
a quarter of his journey when a blizzard blew up from the northeast,
with
sharply drifting snow under foot and high banks soon forming to the
north.
It was viciously cold, for the northern coast was covered with
icebergs.
Soon the darkening clouds cut out visibility, the frost became more
severe
and the storm rose to brutal force. Never before or after in his life
did
Asmundur experience such violence of the elements. He felt that he
would
drift from the right direction If he did not push into the storm and
that
is what he did. When he found himself on a hill In the open, the storm
was
so overpowering that he found it impossible to continue further for the
time
being. He decided to turn back the way he came, find shelter «nd
wait until
the storm abated. He started to retrace his trail but had gone only a
short
distance when he slid off a cliff. He hardly knew what happened but
felt
contact with the cliff some some pain.
He did not know how long he lay there unconscious, but when he came to
he
felt intense pain in his left shoulder and was weak and shivering with
cold.
His skis, staff and lunch bag lay in the snow, and a good deal of
gravel
which he had loosened and taken with him as he fell. He managed with
great
effort to get to his feet and find shelter, for the wind followed the
ravine
into which he had fallen. But the drifted snow had closed every shelter
there,
so he stopped beside a boulder where he had shelter on one side. His
left
arm now felt paralyzed and the pain in his shoulder was nearly
unbearable.
He expected his death at any moment, felt drowsy, but the moment he
surrendered
to sleep the pain roused him. There he lay all night.
The next morning the storm had stopped, the sun shone and his hope of
winning
the struggle for life was revived. His feet were stiff and numb; he
searched
for the way out of the ravine. It led north and the way out was easy.
He
changed directions and went eastward to Pistilfjord, wandered all that
day
and lost the right path. The trek was difficult, as his left arm was
out
of joint, hung limp by his side. much farther than normally, so that
the
hand struck his body when he lifted his left foot, causing him
excruciating
pain.
By nightfall it seemed to him that he was nearing human habitation and
he
tried to call for help without success. After dark he thought he had
come
to a broken marker in the road, but felt unable to continue the
journey,
and stayed where be was all that night. The sky was clear, but the
weather
was cold and frosty.
At dawn the following morning he tried to go on, travelling eastward,
but got nowhere because of gravel and loose ice, so he turned around
and
went In a westerly direction, where he thought he saw a pile of
something,
but not clearly. Then when he reached the spot where he had spent the
night.
his vision seemed to clear, and he observed the traces of a scythe and
piles
of fertilizer around him. He was standing in a field, and faced a fan
house
at a short distance. He then realized that the broken marker he had
struck
the night before had been no such thing, but one of the piles of frozen
fertilizer.
The farm was Sjoaland, and the people there were still not out of bed.
He climbed to the window and said "God be here." When they responded,
he
asked them to open up for him and let him in for he had been lost. He
was
well received and everything was done to help him. Both his feet and
his
left hand were frozen to the bone. The limbs were thawed in snow water
for
ten days, but could not be saved. Physicians have said since, that it
would
have been impossible to save his limbs, because they had frozen the
first
day of his exposure, partly thawed out the day after, while he was on
the
move, and then been refrozen the second night he was out. The flesh
caved
in and separated from the bone. He was confined to bed for a month at
the
farm home Sjoaland, tortured with pains and spasms of contracting
muscles
and nerves.
At the end of the month he was taken to Porunarsel, where a physician,
Pordur
Saemundsson from Akureyri awaited him. The following day the doctor
removed
Asmundur's left hand at the middle of the forearm, and one foot at the
ankle,
at the same time Instructing his assistant as to the method. The
assistant
removed the other foot some time later. His right hand was also frozen
but
was saved from amputation. The dislocated shoulder could not be
corrected
due to swelling. Later it happened when he moved in bed that the arm
snapped
upward but stopped short of the joint and stayed there.
He was confined to bed for another year, but was taken to his parents
at
Mana in the spring, for they had moved there. The following summer.
when
he still suffered acute pain and discomfort, the loss of his mother was
added
to his misery. Her death left him sorely bereft, for she took his
misfortune
to heart and attended to his needs with great devotion and self
sacrifice.
He started to crawl on his knees a little more than a year after his
mishap,
and kept it up for a year and a half. For the last six months of
thatperiod,
he got hay for twelve horses together, working in a wet marsh. Then be
had
wooden stubs made, lined them with padding and wollen socks and fitted
his
stumps in. The tightness and harsh impact were Intolerable to the
tender
stumps, but could not be avoided. They never healed due to chips of
dead
bone at the end of each stump.
The following year he earned his living on land and sea. During that
time
he met Kristbjorg Jonsdottir, and married her In 1875. After that he
lived
two years at Tjornes and moved from there to Pistilfjford, where he
lived
for six years with Olafur Mikael Jonsson, who in every way proved so
staunch
a friend him, that he considered himself more indebted to him than any
other
man outside his family. There Asmundur became, fairly well to do,
considering
the circumstances, and there he lived happily.
In the summer of 1883, he moved with his wife to Canada and settled in
the
Baldur district in Manitoba. Shortly after he filed on a homestead and
farmed
therefor thirteen years. Four years after he moved to Canada the pain
in
his stumps increased, with swelling and bleeding, so that he was unable
to
leave bed. Then he made the acquaintance of a physician. Dr. Gunn, who
proved
a friend in need. He admitted him to a hospital in Winnipeg, where
further
operatations were made on both legs.
The stumps heeled better than before. New stubs were made. designed
with
a round wooden plate fastened to a strong iron frame. From the frame
four
metal braces extended up the thighs; leather straps fastened to the
braces.
Circled the thighs and were laced together with leather thongs. These
were
joined to a strap that went around the waist. He needed no fewer than
10
to 20 knitted socks (open at the ends), of differing lengths to fill up
the
leather circles
or tubes and protect the tender stumps from sores. The total weight of
all
this equipment, which he wore all the time, was 26 pounds and by the
time
be got dressed he often was all in.
Aamundur began farming with only one cow, but ran a fair sized
operation
for a time. At its best the stock consisted of 3 horses, 15 to 20
cattle,
60 sheep, some hogs and about 50 fowl. At that time Olafur Mikael
Jonsson,
the good frIend mentioned earlier to this article, came to Canada. It
was
a happy reunion and Asmundur took the opportunity to repay him somewhat
for
his support and friendship tn the past, by allowing him the use of half
his
land. Olattar has died long since.
Asmundur's farm was encumbered by debt. In the end he thought it wise
to
sell his land and stock and give up farming. After that he earned his
living
tending sheep and cattle for 15 years. At that time he moved to the
Village
of Baldur in the Municipality of Argyle, bought a basement foundation
and
moved a small house onto it. This was his home for 10 years, and there
his
wife Kristbjorg died in November 1910, at the age of 83. (born November
1827).
They had been married 35 years, but had no children. She had given
generously
of her energy, for she was a tireless and hardy worker. Asmundur counts
her
support and devotion his greatest blessing, and her example must be
unique,
considering the state of his fortunes when they married.
After her death he sold his hone and lived thereafter with the
following:
Andres Helgason, his nephew (brother's son) at Baldur; Stefan
Petursson,
who was one of those who drove him over Axarfjardarheidi after his stay
at
Sjoarland; Andres Andreson, Bjorn Andresson, Johann Sigurdson, Jonas
Helgason
and Stefan Jonsson, all farmers in Argyle, who have all done well by
him
and striven to see that he was as comfortable as possible, always made
him
welcome in their homes. Many other unnamed people has much to thank for
their
kindness and support, from the beginning to the end of his struggle for
a
livelihood. He has asked this writer to express his sincere gratitude
to
them all.
During the last few years he has occupied himself largely sawing fire-
wood where he stayed and doing odd jobs. He has been appreciated as a
useful
man wherever he has made his home. Recently a double hernia has been
added
to his other disabilities.
I have recorded this because I feel that Asmundur's story has few
parallels..
It is a story of tragedy and triumph. His fitness for survival was
exceptional,
his toughness and courage indestructible. This example of a man with
both
feet and one hand missing as well as a dislocated shoulder, earning his
living
so dauntlessly deserves to be kept alive. He did net venture into the
forest
in perfect health, still he cut down trees, and tackled jobs that men
with
both feet and hands, and able in every way consider hard work. He has
cut
hay with a scythe. He has fished in open boats, tended sheep, shoveled,
mowed
hay and raked with horsedrawn movers and rakes, stacked hay and grain,
operated
a binder. Much more he has accomplished, which
will not be mentioned here. It is common in Canada for men to go around
begging
if they have lost a hand, and it has happened that Canadians have sent
then
to Asmunderto acquaint them with his example. Iceland's cruel elements
worked
hardship on him. But they also hardened the steel in him. His suffering
failed
to break his spirit and left untouched his bright outlook on life. He
is
a religious, serious, quiet man, but spontaneously merry, and carries
well
his advancing years. He is a credit to his people.
Eimreidin Written December 19, 1916.
Jonas Porbergsson
Epilogue
From the year 1918 Asmundur made his home with Andres Andressen until
the
year 1922, when Andres moved into the town of Glenboro. Andres’
two sons,
Sigurdur (Siggi Anderson) and Eirikur (Eiki Anderson) took over their
father's
farm in the Grund district when he retired. Asmundur lived with them
until
his death, January 24th, 1924 at the age of 79. The funeral service was
held
at the home of the Anderson brothers (Siggi and Eiki) and from the
Grund
Church.
(Frelsis kirkju) on Sunday, February 3rd, 1924 with Rev. Fridrik
Hallgrimsson
officiating. Asmundur was laid to rest in the Grund Cemetery north of
Baldur
in the majestic Tiger Hills. Surrounding the final resting place
are the
beautiful woods, lakes and hills of his adopted home land. Asmundur is
well
remembered by many. present- day senior citizens of the Baldur
district.
They speak with pleasure and pride of having had the privilege of
knowing
him and
for having him as a friend. Among those who remember him the best is
Siggi’s
wife, Sena Anderson, in whose home he spent the twilight of his life of
courage.
As a young farm housewife, Sena recalls his final days - "For the last
six
aonths he was bedridden, but he never complained. He was so
appreciative
of everything I could do for him. At the end he slipped quietly away
with
a trace of a smile around his lips."
Aaumdur Asmundsson died as he had lived a with determined courage. At
peace with himself and all mankind.
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