1 
 
 :3 
 
 LEISUEE HOURS IN RUSSIA 
 
 I-IOFFMA.M. 
 
 1 
 
^^^^ ^/^^^^^ fä^^^y^ ^l^q^ 
 
 LEISURE HOURS IN RUSSIA ^ 
 
 BY WICKHAM HOFFMAN, 
 
 Late Secretaey United States Legation, St. Petersburg. 
 Minister Resident in Denmark. Author of 
 "Camp, Court, AND Siege." 
 
 LONDON 
 
 GEOKGE BELL AND SOTs^S. 
 1883 
 
Digitized by the Internet Archive 
 in 2015 
 
 https://archive.org/details/leisurehoursinruOOhoff 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 St. Petersburg i 
 
 Russian Superstitions i8 
 
 Nadeschda 30 
 
 Finland loi 
 
 The Kalevala 117 
 
 döbeln at juutas 1 59 
 
 Lieut. Zieden i68 
 
 The Cloud's Brother - 172 
 
 "Our Land" 182 
 
Several of the f ollowing articles are reprinted from ^'Penn's 
 Monthly Magazine/' in which they originally appeared, 
 
 ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 Ijl IFTY years after New York was founded, a vast marsh 
 'extended on both banks of the Neva where St. Peters- 
 burg, or Petersburg as the Russians generally call it, now 
 stands. When the wind blew fresh from the South West the 
 water from the Gulf of Finland covered this marsh, and a lake 
 extended as far as the eye could reach. When winter had 
 frozen the Neva, and the snow had covered the marsh, an im- 
 mense uninhabited plain extended in every direction. It is 
 difficult to imagine a scene of greater loneliness and desolation 
 than that presented less than two-hundred years ago by the 
 spot where a great city of 600,000 inhabitants now stands. 
 
 In the year 1700 Russia did not extend to the Baltic, or 
 to the Gulf of Finland. Peter the Great desired to have an 
 outlet for his empire in that direction, "to have an eye into 
 Europe " as he expressed it. In 1702 he attacked the Swedes, 
 who then held Finland and that part of Russia contiguous 
 to it, and, driving them out, commenced the construction 
 of his capital. 
 
 Why he selected a marsh twenty miles from the Gulf as 
 the site of St. Petersburg, can only be conjectured. At Peter- 
 hoff, fourteen miles further down the river, the land is high and 
 
 B 
 
2 ST. PETERSBURG, 
 
 well wooded, and still further down lies Oranienbaum, ap- 
 parently another good site for a large city. But the water is 
 not deep at Peterhoff, flats extending far into the river, while 
 at St. Petersburg it is very deep. Peter's reason for his selec- 
 tion was, probably, facility for defence. He had no fleet in 
 those days^ while the Swedes possessed a strong one, which, 
 as it was, gave him some trouble on the Neva in the early days 
 of his undertaking. 
 
 Peter carried his project into execution with his accustomed 
 energy. He drafted 40,000 men annually, many from distant 
 parts of his empire, and set them to work on his marsh. Of 
 course, the loss of life must have been fearful. But he 
 triumphed over every obstacle, and in a few years a substantial 
 and well built city stood upon the banks of the Neva. 
 
 Then Catherine the Great took up the task. She built 
 quays, facing the banks of the Neva for miles with granite. She 
 built the Hermitage and other striking buildings. She gave 
 lands freely to churches, no matter of what denomination, on 
 condition of building; and the Lutheran, Roman Catholic, 
 Armenian and English churches are now strong and wealthy in 
 St Petersburg. She built an Opera House, and did every- 
 thing in her power to draw her rich subjects to the capital by 
 making it an attractive residence to them. The Russian 
 nobility came in numbers, and of course built palaces, and 
 gradually the city assumed its present palatial appearance. 
 
 St. Petersburg reminds one of Washington. Both cities 
 were built to order. Both were created, and did not grow up, 
 and both were cities of magnificent distances. St. Petersburg 
 has now grown up to its distances, and Washington is follow- 
 ing in her footsteps. 
 
 The Admiralty was the first building of importance con- 
 structed. It was at first built of wood, but this building has 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 3 
 been replaced by an immense structure in brick. It stands 
 upon th© South bank of the Neva, and it formed the point of 
 departure for laying out the city. There radiate from it, run- 
 ning nearly East, South-East and South, three principal 
 avenues, called " Prospectives." These are superb streets, 
 well built up, and two or three miles long. One of them, the 
 " Prospective Nevsky," is the Boulevard of St. Petersburg, 
 nearly as large as Pennsylvania Avenue, and much better 
 built up. A horse railway runs in the middle, while the car- 
 riage way is paved with wood, which has to be renewed every 
 year, or at least every two years, on account of the dampness 
 of the soil and the severity of the climate. The side walks 
 are of stone or asphalt, and very wide. Nearly all the crack 
 shops of the city are upon this street. 
 
 Here on a Sunday or fete day — and there are eighty of them 
 without counting the Sundays — you see the Peterbourgeois in 
 his glory. Nearly every second man is in uniform, for the 
 garrison of St. Petersburgh alone is 70,000 strong, and on 
 account of the vicinity of Cronstadt, there are, of course, many 
 officers and men of the navy to be met, and then almost every 
 employe of any public and of many private establishments wears 
 uniform. The old-fashioned Russians of Moscow look down 
 with contempt upon St. Petersburg, and call it a " City of 
 Bureaus." There are certainly enough of them. Carriages 
 dash up and down the wooden pavement at great speed, for 
 there is no city in the world where there are such fine horses, 
 and where they are driven so recklessly. They are harnessed 
 without blinds, and are consequently rarely frightened. With 
 all their fire, there is rarely a runaway in Russia. For some 
 strange reason, the Russian drives with double reins, two to 
 each horse, and invariably with both hands. They use double 
 reins probably because their ancestors did not know how to do 
 
 B 2 
 
4 ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 differently, and as their ancestors did, so do they in all things. 
 For the same reason, probably, the single horses are driven 
 with a hoop over the collar to which the check rein is fastened. 
 Many reasons are given for this custom. Some say it is used 
 to hang bells upon, to drive away the wolves ; others that it is 
 in the shape of a horseshoe, and therefore brings good luck. 
 My explanation is that it was adopted to check the horses' 
 heads up, for the Russians are not an inventive people, 
 and did not know how otherwise to do it. Once adopted, 
 it will stay for ever. The most disagreeable feature of the 
 affair is to see the draught horses dragging heavy loads, and 
 needing to throw all their weight into the collar, with their 
 heads painfully checked up. 
 
 For the Russian, while gentle to most animals, is hard upon 
 his horse. What part superstition may play in this matter, 
 I do not know. But the pigeons, the sparrows, and even the 
 crows, are so tame that they will scarcely flutter out of your 
 way. Pigeons are emblems of the Holy Spirit, and are there- 
 fore never killed by a genuine Russian. To some they 
 embody the souls of their deceased relatives. Crows, too, are 
 to some of them their dead sisters or brothers. It is to be 
 feared that the poor horse is a deceased mother-in-law. When 
 a peasant girl marries, she goes to live with her husband's 
 parents. She probably has a pretty hard time of it, and her 
 sufferings and longings for her own dear mother are a favorite 
 theme of the Russian peasant poet. 
 
 The fruit-sellers are rather a picturesque sight on the 
 Nevsky. They are dressed in a red shirt and white apron, 
 and the inevitable long Russian boot. They carry their wares 
 on a wooden tray, and bending on one knee in the mud or on 
 the stones, rest the tray on the other. Apples are pretty good 
 at St. Petersburg ; strawberries are delicious and abundant, 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 5 
 and not dear ; and so are raspberries 3 but all other fruit comes 
 from a distance, and is expensive. 
 
 The silver shops are a feature of the Nevsky. We had an 
 opportunity of seeing something of the beautiful Russian silver 
 at Philadelphia three years ago. Silver ware, in all sorts of 
 shapes, useful and merely ornamental, is manufactured in great 
 quantities in Russia, at Moscow and Toula principally. Large 
 amounts of silver must be used in this way, for every house has 
 its sacred picture, generally of the Virgin and Child. It faces 
 you as you enter the room, hung against the wall in a corner. 
 In the better houses it is made of silver, often gilt ; in the 
 poorer houses, of brass. 
 
 The St. Petersburg lower classes, " peasants" they are called 
 both in the city and the country, are a church-going people. 
 The bells begin to ring at six in the morning in summer, and at 
 seven in winter, every day, and sweet-toned bells they are, 
 silver entering largely into their composition. The people 
 throng to the great Cathedral of St. Isaac's, and on fete days 
 and Sundays fill that large building. Unhke other countries, 
 in this two-thirds of the church-goers are men. They stand or 
 kneel during the two hours' service, for seats are permitted only 
 to a few invalid women of rank. This is a matter of faith. 
 From time to time, they prostrate themselves with their fore- 
 heads upon the floor, in true oriental fashion. The service 
 consists of reading (intoning) and chanting — voices alone, 
 for organs and other musical instruments are forbidden. In 
 the great churches the voices are fine, and the music, therefore, 
 impressive, but it is monotonous, and soon fatigues the ear. 
 
 St. Isaac's Cathedral, the finest church building in Russia, 
 was only finished under Nicholas. All that marble and gold, 
 bronze and silver can do to make it gorgeous, has been done. 
 The dome is of gold, not gilt merely, a thin plate of gold laid 
 
6 ST, PETERSBURG. 
 
 upon copper, the large cross which surmounts it of solid silver, 
 seventeen feet high. Columns of malachite and lapis-lazuli, 
 thirty feet high, adorn the interior. Fifty-two bronze statues 
 of saints and martyrs, seventeen feet high, decorate the exterior. 
 The large doors are in bronze, and magnificent they are. The 
 Russians excel in bronze work,— their bas-reliefs stand out 
 from the surface as if detached. 
 
 But this great church is settling, and is Ukely to cost much 
 money to repair. The architect sunk a forest of piles for it to 
 stand upon, and evidently counted upon no setthng or upon 
 its settling evenly. He forgot that the four beautiful porches 
 are lighter than the main building, with its^ heavy iron dome. 
 The main building has settled evenly, but in doing so has 
 detached itself from the porches, bearing the great marble 
 columns out of line, and in some instances cracking them. 
 For three years they have been at work patching, cementing, 
 and shoring up. It must end in their being compelled to take 
 down the porches and rebuild them, — an enormously 
 expensive job. ^ 
 The second church in St. Petersburg, in importance and 
 interest, is the Kazan. It is an imitation of St. Peter's, but 
 built on a smaller scale, and is, therefore, architecturally a 
 failure. But it is rich with battle-flags and splendid jewellery, 
 offered by sovereigns and by the faithful. 
 
 Church domes are a striking feature in St. Petersburg. 
 Some are gilt, some blue studded with stars, and many green 
 like the roofs of the houses. Some of the churches are built 
 with many small domes and minarets, giving them a very 
 mosque like appearance. 
 
 The religion of the Russian peasant is very simple. His 
 whole doctrine is this : If he crosses himself with three 
 fingers he will be saved ] if v/ith two, he will be damned. 
 
ST, PETERSBURG. 7 
 This beautiful simplicity is admirably adopted to the average 
 bucolic mind, and saves it much trouble. To take off his hat 
 and cross himself when he passes in front of a church or 
 shrine, to do the same if he meets a funeral, or even when he 
 hears a distant church bell, this, besides fasting, is the whole 
 duty of the peasant man in Russia. Add to this, that he is to 
 abstain from work on Sundays and fete days, to wear a sheep- 
 skin even in summer, to sleep in his clothes, wash his face at 
 the pump and not disturb his hair too often with a comb, to 
 visit the graves of his relatives once a year, there to eat and 
 drink all the potato brandy he can get, not forgetting to leave 
 a portion of food on the grave, for the benefit of the deceased, 
 and you have a picture of the moral, physical and mental 
 condition of the Russian peasant. 
 
 But he is polite and affectionate, and very tolerant. He 
 takes off his hat with quite an air of elegance when he meets a 
 friend, i.e,^ a male friend ; for I regret to state that he too evi- 
 dently looks down upon the female of his species. When he 
 is drunk, and this perhaps happens rather too often, he kisses and 
 hugs his companion instead of fighting him, and as for the 
 ^' unorthodox," for he is the only " orthodox," why, they were 
 born so, poor fellows ! It is not their fault, they are not to be 
 blamed for it ! 
 
 In this connection, a word upon the Greek Church may not 
 be out of place. It claims to be the oldest Christian church 
 extant, far older than the Roman Catholic, and certainly its 
 traditions have been unchanged for ages. One is struck with 
 the uniformity of the type of ihe pictures of the Saviour and 
 the Virgin. The Roman Catholic painters have made her a 
 beautiful Italian or Spanish woman. In Russia she is of the 
 purest Eastern type, an unmistakable Hebrew. Pictures of her 
 abound in the churches, and in every variety, but no statue is 
 
8 ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 permitted. The Russian interprets literally the commandment 
 
 against making " any graven image." 
 
 Their priests are of two classes, the white — or rather the 
 brown — and the black. The former marry, or rather may be 
 married ; for when once ordained they cannot marry. When 
 a young man is ready for holy orders his bishop looks up a 
 wife for him. She is almost always the daughter of a priest, 
 and in this way the families of deceased priests are provided 
 for j for the bridegroom must take his mother-in-law and the 
 other members of his wife's family to live with him. If his 
 wife dies, he may not marry again, and under these circum- 
 stances he generally leads anything but an edifying life. These 
 village "popes " are generally very commonplace and unedu- 
 cated men. They are supported by the state and by the 
 voluntary contributions of the people. As a rule, they exercise 
 very little influence and are very little respected. They very 
 rarely preach, preaching being discouraged by the church, for 
 fear, it is said, that the doctrine preached may not be sound. 
 
 The black priests do not marry. They reside in convents, 
 and are supposed to give themselves to prayer, meditation and 
 study. They have great contempt for the white priests. 
 
 The Emperor is the head of the Church. Up to the time 
 of Peter there had always been a Patriarch at the head of the 
 Church, as the Pope is the head of the Roman Catholic 
 Church. But the Patriarch of the day opposed Peter's innova- 
 tions in his Empire, and denounced them as heretical. On his 
 death, Peter appointed himself Patriarch. The spiritual and 
 doctrinal government of the Church is vested in the Holy 
 Synod, but the power of appointment and of deposition is in 
 the Emperor, who exercises it through a minister, generally a 
 military man. 
 
 The Greek Church, of course, rejects the supremacy of the 
 
ST. PETERSBURG. 9 
 Pope. It believes, with our Baptists, in total immersion, but 
 in infant, and not adult baptism. It does not believe in in- 
 dulgences or dispensations. It rejects Purgatory. 
 
 The Russians are the strictest possible observers of the 
 fasts of the Church. The food of the lower classes is poor 
 enough at all times. In winter it consists principally of black 
 bread, salted cucumbers, and tea, which they drink weak and 
 in great quantities. The Russian or caravan tea, is delicious 
 but dear. In Summer the peasant eats eggs, and has milk, and 
 occasionally chickens and meat. But during the forty days of 
 Lent, about twenty days in June, and nearly two months in 
 autumn, and on every Wednesday and Friday during the year, 
 he abstains from all kind of animal food, and even from milk 
 and eggs. After the long and strict abstinence of Lent he is 
 so run down as to be very liable to disease, and at this time 
 the deaths are very numerous. St. Petersburg is perhaps the 
 most unhealthy city in the world. In winter and spring the 
 deaths are as numerous as they are in Paris, a city of three 
 times the number of inhabitants. 
 
 For it is not the want of proper food only against which 
 the lower classes have to contend. To keep out the intense 
 and penetrating cold, they seal up the windows. They use, 
 of course, double sashes, but in addition to these the space 
 between them is filled up with three or four inches of sand or 
 cotton, and the cracks are then puttied. A large fire is made 
 in the stove (a mass of brick and plaster), and as many people 
 as possible crowd into the room. The odour from the sheep 
 skins under the influence of the heat, does not improve the air. 
 
 But while the Russian peasant's dress is filthy, his skin is 
 generally clean. He does not trouble himself to wash his face 
 and hands, or comb his hair, but he goes every Saturday evening 
 to a hot bath, and cleanses himself thoroughly. In the country 
 
lo ST. PETERSBURG, 
 
 he has generally a small log building near his house for kiln- 
 årymg his grain in the autumn, for often it fails to ripen in the 
 short wet summer, and for a vapour bath in winter. Steaming 
 himself up till he is almost red-hot, he leaves his bath and rolls 
 in the snow. It seems to do him no harm. 
 
 Food is cheap in Russia. In St. Petersburg you can buy as 
 good beef as there is any^vhere at 14 cents a pound for the best 
 cats. In certain places on the Yolga common beef can be 
 bought for a cent and a half. Mutton is not generally good, 
 but breeds of English sheep have lately been imported, and 
 meat is improving. Fish is abundant and good. The fish 
 market is a curious sight both in summer and winter. In 
 summer the fish are swimming about in large tanks in the Neva 
 and in the canals. You point out your fish, the attendant 
 scoops him up in a hand net, hits him on the back of the neck, 
 and instantly he is a dead fish. In winter they are brought in 
 immense quantities from the Volga and elsewhere. They are 
 frozen solid, and piled up in the market like so much wood. 
 If the fish freezes to death when taken from the water, he re- 
 mains fresh till he thaws. But if he dies first, and then freezes, 
 he is not so good. "When once frozen he remains so generally 
 till sold, for it is the rarest thing here for it to thaw, after the 
 winter has once set in, till spring. When this does happen the 
 loss to the fish dealer is very great. 
 
 Horse hire, as well as food, is cheap at St. Petersburg. Day 
 and night, and in every quarter, the little " droskeys " await 
 the customer. They are most uncomfortable little vehicles. 
 Take a wheel-barrow, put four wheels under it instead of 
 one, fasten the horse between the handles, and you have 
 a"droskey." There are 17,000 of them in St. Petersburg. 
 They drive for a mile for 10 cents. A Russian never 
 enters a droskey without bargaining. The driver asks of 
 
ST, PETERSBURG, ii 
 course more than he expects to get and is willing to take. 
 The customer walks away with feigned indignation, and goes 
 off as if all negotiation was at an end. The driver waits a 
 minute to see if he will relent, then calls out pajoLst as you 
 please and the bargain is closed. The foregone conclusion 
 of these negotiations makes the performance rather absurd. 
 
 Handsome equipages are of course to be had, and very much 
 cheaper than in the United States or in Western Europe. For 
 eighty dollars a month you can hire a two horse carriage com- 
 plete, with no other expenses except a little chai (tea-money), 
 to the coachman, if you choose to give it. The same equipage, 
 or not so good a one, in Paris would cost you a hundred and 
 twenty dollars a month. 
 
 The Petersburgers live in apartments, as is done in . Paris ; 
 and not as we live at home, in houses to ourselves. The 
 salons and show-parts generally of these apartments are very 
 fine, the bedrooms are miserable. A large comfortable bed- 
 room is a thing almost unknown, except at the hotels. To 
 reach one bedroom, you often must pass through another. In 
 a veritable old-fashioned Russian house there are frequently no 
 bedroom doors, curtains supplying their places, and the faithful 
 serf being supposed to sleep across the entrance, to guard his 
 master or mistress. The Russian does not pretend to provide 
 sleeping quarters for his under servants, "mujiks " as they are 
 called. They sleep wherever they can throw themselves down 
 but generally according to their calling. Thus the cook's 
 mujik sleeps in the kitchen, the butler's mujik in the butler's 
 pantry, the coachman's in the coachhouse, etc. For every 
 upper servant must have his or her mujiks. This is a matter 
 of personal dignity which cannot be waived. 
 
 Servants' wages are low. You can get a man cook for ten 
 or fifteen dollars a month, and a woman to help him for three. 
 
12 ST. PETERSBURG, 
 
 But it is necessary to keep so many servants that the expense 
 of feedmg them is ver}^ considerable. At Xew Years, and at 
 Easter too, they expect handsome presents, — at least a month's 
 wages. 
 
 St. Petersburg is a city of gourmets. The long nights in 
 \rinter, and the excessive cold and discomfort out of doors, 
 drive the inhabitants to indoor pleasures. They consequently 
 pay great attention to the cuisine, and the cooks become 
 co7'don-hleus. The best cuisine is of course the French, and 
 there are French cr.efs in many of the houses, but the Russians 
 have a number of national dishes they are fond of, especially 
 soups — cabbage soup eaten A^ith sour cream, cucumber soup, 
 and a cold sour soup, which they swear by, but which is not 
 very agreeable to a foreign palate. The root vegetables, 
 turnips, beets, etc., are remarkably good, so are water melons 
 and cucumbers, while game, snipe, woodcock, partridges, white 
 partridges, hazel grouse, black cock, coqs du hois, and hare, are 
 all abundant in their season, and good. In the way of hsh, the 
 salmon is excellent, and they have trout, frost fish, perch, 
 grayling, seguis, somewhat like a striped bass, and the famous 
 sterlet, which I do not think deserves its reputation. Its roe 
 makes the best caviare. 
 
 The regular Russian restaurant is not to be seen in perfec- 
 tion m Petersburg. There is one in ^Moscow, they call the 
 Hermitage, which is thoroughly Russian. A feature of these 
 restaurants is an immense mechanical organ, which grinds out 
 lively airs during dinner. One can hardly talk. The correct 
 thing to do is to take, before dinner, a zacousk^,"' which 
 being uiterpreted means a preliminary lunch, a small glass of 
 liqueur, generally wodki," v.ith salt fish, or caviare, or a little 
 cheese. This is supposed to whet duhed appetite. 
 
 Besides the pleasures of the table, the Russians rely greatly 
 
ST. PETERSBURG, 13 
 upon cards to pass the long winter evenings. They play a 
 great deal, and play high. Whist, with some modifications in 
 the counting, baccarat, and a game they call " vindt/* some- 
 thing like "Boston," are their principal games. Our great 
 national game of poker is not unknown among them, but its 
 attractions are just beginning to be appreciated. Cards are a 
 monopoly in Russia, and their importation is strictly pro- 
 hibited. The profits on their sale go to the support of the 
 Foundling Hospital, and it is magnificently supported. Any 
 infant can be brought there, and no questions are asked either 
 as regards the mother or the child, and no payment is 
 necessary, li is said to be the only place in Russia where no 
 passport is required. 
 
 The public buildings are imposing from their size, but not 
 architecturally. The necessity for using brick as a building 
 material, because it resists the climate better than stone, 
 interferes with the architectural effect. The brick is stuccoed, 
 or yellow washed. The Winter Palace is a mass of stuccoed 
 brick, 700 feet long by 450 feet deep. It has no pretension 
 to beauty but size. The Hermitage has a porch supported by 
 large bronze caryatides. This is fine. The " Bourse " is of 
 brick, with large brick columns. In fact, nearly all the public 
 buildings, and they are very numerous, are mere masses of 
 brick. 
 
 The houses, the modern ones, are wonderfully well built. 
 The outer walls are generally three feet thick, and the partition 
 walls two feet. The halls and stairways are of stone and iron. 
 An extensive conflagration is almost an impossibility in St. 
 Petersburg, and it is fortunate ;,that it is so; for their 
 means of extinguishing a fire are of the most primitive 
 description. They use an absurd garden engine that two men 
 can easily work, and the water is drawn by them from casks 
 
14 ST. PETERSBURG. 
 
 brought up on carts. They have excellent horses, and plenty 
 of them, and active young firemen, but their mechanical 
 contrivances would excite the derision of ^a six months' village 
 on a western prairie. 
 
 St. Petersburg excels in monuments. One of the oldest and 
 most spirited is that of Peter the Great, erected to him by 
 Catherine. It is an equestrian statue, and both rider and 
 horse are full of life. It stands upon the identical rock upon 
 which Peter stood when he defeated the Finns. The statue of 
 Nicholas is also equestrian. On the base are beautiful ^bas 
 reliefs in bronze, setting forth the principal events in that 
 sovereign's life. The statue of Catherine, the statues of 
 Suwaroff and Barclay de Tolly, the column of Alexander I., 
 the famous bronze horses on the Fontanka bridge, and many 
 others, are admirable in their way, and set off and ornament the 
 squares and public gardens in which they stand, and beautify the 
 city. 
 
 The environs of St. Petersburg are very beautiful. The 
 Neva divides into four branches, at or near the city, and 
 between them lie several islands, covered with fine birch and 
 oak trees, and luxuriant vegetation. Every one who can 
 afford it leaves St. Petersburg in summer, and lives on one of 
 these islands, or elsewhere in the neighbourhood. The 
 fashionable drive is to the island of Telagin, to the " Point." 
 Here the breeze comes in fresh from the Gulf of Finland, and 
 the view is pleasing, and here the fashionable world walk, or sit 
 in the carriages and talk with their friends, during the long, 
 light summer evenings till ten or eleven o'clock. But it is not 
 all couleur-de-rose at Telagin. If a gale blows from the south- 
 west for twenty-four hours, the water covers all but the foot- 
 paths, which are elevated, and you are lucky if you escape with 
 water in your cellar only. Trees are blown down, and bridges 
 
ST, PETERSBURG. 15 
 and bathing-houses carried away. Then the mosquitoes are 
 nearly as bad as on Lake Borgne, near New Orleans, and that 
 is the neplus ultra of mosquitodom. Places of amusement are 
 scattered over these islands. Restaurants where you may 
 dine in the open air, orchestras, theatres, rope-dancers, and 
 gypsies, who sing a wild barbaric song, not unmelodious. The 
 Russians make the most of their short summer of ten weeks, 
 and live out of doors much more than we do in a more genial 
 climate. 
 
 But the great feature of St. Petersburg is the Neva, and this 
 in winter as well as in summer. The Russians are very proud 
 of it. If you have not seen the Volga, they will tell you that 
 the Volga is the finer river, but if you have seen it, they will 
 admit the superiority of the Neva. It is the finest river in 
 Europe, for depth and volume of water. No tide sets into it, 
 but it has a current of about two miles an hour. It is the out- 
 let of Lake Ladoga, an immense lake for Europe, as large 
 almost as Lake Huron. 
 
 The Neva surrounds St. Petersburg on two sides. It is 
 generally frozen over in November, and remains solid till late 
 in April, with ice from 20 to 30 inches thick. It was crossed 
 by one stone bridge only until lately, but another was formally 
 opened in October, sprinkled with holy water and blessed by 
 the Metropolitan. All the other bridges are of boats. As 
 soon as the ice begins to form, these bridges are swung against 
 the Northern bank. When the ice becomes firm, channels are 
 cut and the bridges are swung back into their places. Here 
 they are firmly held by the ice, and are safer from injury than 
 even in summer. When the river breaks up they are again 
 swung to the shore, and remain there while the ice is running 
 out. This is the season for the picturesque little boats with 
 high sterns, which now do a great traffic, carrying innumerable 
 
i6 ST, PETERSBURG. 
 
 passengers across the river for a few copecks (about half a 
 cent.) j for your true Russian hates walking as a certain ex- 
 alted personage is reported to hate holy water, and will rather 
 call a boat than walk a hundred yards to a bridge. 
 
 While the Neva is frozen, life on the ice is gay and picturesque. 
 Foot passengers, pleasure sleighs and loaded sleighs, are 
 crossing and recrossing in every direction. The ice dealers 
 are getting out their stock. The Laps, with their sledges and 
 reindeer, and skin tents^ encamp upon its face, and for two 
 copecks you may ride behind a team of reindeer. Their gait 
 is not rapid, an awkward trot of about eight miles. They are 
 driven by the horns. 
 
 A race course of half a mile is laid out upon the ice and 
 fenced, and here trotting races take place every Sunday. The 
 Russian trotter is not to be compared with ours in speed ; 
 2.30 is the very best he can do. But the palm for beauty 
 must be conceded to him over our horses. 
 
 When the ice breaks up no one is permitted to cross the 
 river until the signal is given by a gun from the Fortress of 
 Peter and Paul. Then the Governor embarks in his barge, 
 rowed by a dozen stout oarsmen, attended by a fleet of small 
 boats. He crosses the river to the Winter Palace, where the 
 Emperor meets him. He presents to the Emperor a goblet of 
 Neva water, as a token that the river is open. The Emperor 
 sips it, fills it with gold coin and returns it to the Governor. 
 Once upon a time the goblet grew rapidly larger year by year, 
 and energetic measures had to be taken to check this miraculous 
 growth. 
 
 In summer the scene is very different but equally animated. 
 Huge barges loaded with wood, clay, or brick, sand or stone, 
 float down with the current, and are tied up along the quays, or 
 in the canals, many of which intersect the city, to the great 
 
ST, PETERSBURG. 17 
 convenience of trade. Sailing vessels make their way from 
 Finland, English and German steamers line the northen quay 
 below the stone bridge, steamboats start every few hours for 
 Cronstadt and Peterhof, and little steamers ply backward and 
 forward every few minutes, between the city and the islands; 
 and we are forced to appreciate the enthusiasm of the good 
 divine, who thanked God that large navigable rivers always 
 flow by great cities. 
 
 c 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 
 
 Note— The following account of some of the strange super- 
 stitions and customs prevailing among the Russian peasantry, is no 
 fancy sketch. It is drawn partly from the observation of the 
 writer, but principally from the authoritative works of Wallace and 
 Ralston. These writers in turn have described what they have 
 seen themselves, or derived from the best Russian authorities. 
 
 THE Russian peasant's house as a rule contains but one 
 room. In this he sleeps and cooks, and eats and 
 smokes. On the right as you enter is the "Front" or 
 " Upper Corner." Here hangs against the wall the " Sacred 
 Picture " of the Saviour, or of the Mother and Child. Opposite 
 is the stove, a huge mass of brick and mortar, which once 
 heated retains its warmth for a long time, for a valve closes 
 the chinmey when there is no longer any smoke to escape, and 
 prevents the cold air from descending the flue. From the top 
 of the stove to the wall are laid a number of planks. These 
 and the stove itself form the bedstead, and here the family 
 huddle together to sleep, without regard to age or sex. 
 
 Behind the stove dwells the Domovoy, or house-spirit, 
 inseparably associated with every Russian peasant's house. 
 He is a half-friendly, half-malignant spirit. His vocation is to 
 watch over the house when the inmates are asleep. All day 
 long he hides behind the stove, but at night he comes out, and 
 eagerly devours the food set out for him. If the food is good 
 and abundant, he is friendly. He passes his hand over the 
 sleeper's face^ and under the soft and soothing touch he sleeps 
 
J^USSIAN SUPERSTITIONS, 19 
 more soundly. He wakes the master of the house if there is 
 danger from fire, or other cause. He makes his rounds in the 
 stable, and sees that all is safe there, feeds the horses and 
 cattle, and in short is a well-mannered spirit. But should the 
 peasant forget to leave out the food, or should the bread be 
 mouldy, he will soon have reason to repent it. The Domovoy 
 passes a rough and bristly hand over the sleeper's face, 
 and he suffers from night-mare. He steals the forage from the 
 cattle. He rides the horses furiously in the night, and they 
 are found smoking and exhausted in the morning, the owner 
 considering himself fortunate if he suffers from no worse tricks 
 than these. 
 
 Then he must be appeased. The most approved method of 
 doing this is through his stomach, as an indulgent mother 
 appeases an angry child. The peasant sets out a cake made 
 especially for him, or a pot of stewed grain, of which he is 
 particularly fond. If these fail the village wizard must « be 
 called in, who kills a cock and sprinkles the corner of the hut 
 with its blood, muttering incantations the while. This, it is 
 said, never fails. 
 
 But sometimes the Domovoy, without being angry or 
 malicious, takes to playing practical jokes. He has been 
 known to catch the cat by the tail and hold her suspended in 
 mid-air. An energetic scolding from the mistress of the house, 
 the peasants say, is generally sufficient to meet this difficulty, 
 "You're a pretty Domovoy ! you ought to be ashamed of 
 yourself ! The cat is a useful member of the family, and you 
 treat her so. Don't you do it again ! " The Domovoy, when 
 thus addressed, generally listens to the voice of reason. 
 
 The Domovoy is not handsome. Those who have been 
 fortunate enough to see him, and he is visible only on Easter 
 Eve, describe him as a short, crooked, ugly, little man, covered 
 
 c 2 
 
20 RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS 
 
 all over with long hair. Indeed his tracks, which are said to 
 
 be seen in the snow, clearly prove that his feet are shaggy. 
 
 When a Russian peasant moves from one house to another 
 he always takes his Domovoy with him ; but this is not so 
 easily done, for the Domovoy hates to move, and must be 
 properly invited, and treated with much ceremonial. The 
 peasants, among their many superstitions, believe that on 
 moving into a new house a death will soon occur in the family, 
 and that it will be that of the first person who enters the house. 
 Generally therefore the eldest member of the family enters it first. 
 To avoid this anticipated death, they kill a cock, and sprinkle 
 its blood upon its threshold, in the beHef that this will prevent 
 death from entering. Is it possible that this custom can have 
 any connection with the sprinkling of the door posts with the 
 blood of a lamb, by the Israelites before their flight from 
 Egypt? 
 
 But to return to the Domovoy, for, as I have said, he does 
 not like to be neglected. When the removal from one house 
 to another is decided upon, after all the furniture has been 
 removed, an old woman of the family rakes together the coals 
 in the stove. At noon precisely, she takes a new jar, and, 
 having deposited the embers in it, covers them with a clean 
 towel, and carries them to the new house. Here the master 
 and mistress of the house await her on the threshold with an 
 offering of bread and salt. She strikes the door posts and 
 says, " Are the visitors welcome ? " The hosts bow low and 
 reply, " Welcome Grandfather Domovoy to the new house." 
 Then the old woman enters, places the jar on the stove, takes 
 off the towel and shakes it towards the four corners of the 
 cottage, and empties t^^e burning embers into the stove. She 
 then breaks the jar, and buries its fragments under the 
 " Upper Corner." 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS, 21 
 
 The Domovoy is a capricious spirit, and very sensitive about 
 colour. He is fond of horses, but attaches far more -importance 
 to the color, than to speed, or strength, or soundness. Once 
 upon a time a peasant had some excellent horses and choice 
 cattle. The horses went lame, the oxen died, and the cows 
 gave no milk. At length the poor peasant was compelled to 
 buy a miserable old hack, for he had no money wherewith to 
 pay for a better one. He had hardly led this Rosinante home, 
 and recommended him to the Domovoy, by tying his halter to 
 the stove, as is the approved custom, when a voice was heard 
 to exclaim, " Ah ! this is something like a horse ! Not like 
 those other miserable brutes ! " From that time everything 
 went well in the stable. 
 
 But what is the colour the Domovoy prefers ? Naturally, 
 that of his own hide. And how is the peasant to discover 
 what this colour is, when he is visible but once a year, and 
 then only to a favoured few? Nothing is simpler. He has 
 only to wrap a piece of cake in a rag, and hang it up in the 
 stable. In a few weeks it will breed maggots. He examines 
 the color of these maggots, and he has the color his Domovoy 
 prefers. 
 
 Sometimes there is a fight between two Domovoys. A Dom- 
 ovoy does not love his master's neighbour, and frequently tries 
 to steal from him for the benefit of his own master. If the 
 neighbour's Domovoy catches him at it there is a row, and a 
 terrible upsetting of chairs and tables at night in the house, 
 and a fracas in the stable. Now the women come to the aid 
 of their household spirit. They take brooms and strike the 
 walls and enclosures, exclaiming, Stranger Domovoy, go away 
 home ! " The stranger must go. But should he unfortunately 
 have got the better of the rightful Domovoy, and driven him 
 out, the next step is to induce the latter to return. For this 
 
22 RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS, 
 
 purpose the women put on their hoHday dresses, and, going 
 into the yard, utter the following invocation, " Grandfather 
 Domovoy, come home and take care of the house and cattle." 
 Thus affectionately adjured he returns at once. 
 
 I have spoken of the " yard." This is a necessary append- 
 age to every peasant's house. All the buildings are enclosed 
 with a high plank or log fence ; a board fence would not be 
 strong enough. This is done to keep out the wolves, the bane 
 of the peasant's life. The number of domestic animals 
 destroyed by the wolves annually in Russia is something 
 enormous. When driven by hunger, they come into the streets 
 of the villages, and even into the cities. It is but a few years 
 since a wolf was killed on the streets of St. Petersburg, and 
 only a few days ago they entered the streets of Tsarky-Zelo, 
 the summer residence of the Emperor, about ten miles from 
 the capital. Dogs are no match for them, for the wolves have 
 more strength and endurance, and their jaws have a grip that 
 no dog can equal. In winter the dogs are all kept indoors at 
 night, and woe to him who shows his head out for a moment, 
 for he is instantly snapped up. 
 
 Next to the " Upper Corner" in importance, comes the 
 threshold. A sort of semi-sanctity has been attached to the 
 threshold from classical times down to our own. At Pompeii 
 we have the " Salve, viator," in mosaic on the threshold, and in 
 our own day we inscribe it on the door mat. But the Russians 
 attach not only sanctity to it, but superstition also. It is 
 unlucky to sit down on the threshold. A cross is drav^n 
 upon it to keep away the witches. Still-born children are 
 buried under it. A newly-baptized child is held over it, 
 that he may be placed under the protection of the house- 
 hold divinities. The peasant crosses himself as he passes 
 it, and children afflicted with certain diseases are washed on 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 23 
 it, with the expectation that the disease will be driven out 
 of doors. 
 
 In the Domovoy and the Spirit of the threshold, the reader 
 readily recognizes something of the Lares and Penates of 
 pagan times. But how altered ? Christianity has driven out 
 the old worship, but has been powerless to change many of 
 the rites with which it was associated. In some " govern- 
 ments" of Russia the last sheaf of the new wheat is offered 
 in sacrifice to the Virgin Mary ! A strange blending of the 
 Mother of Christ with the goddess Ceres ! And certainly the 
 old rites have not gained in simplicity or dignity, in their trans- 
 fer to modern times and Russian soil. Imagine the old Lares 
 Familiares of our schoolboy days degraded into Domovoys I 
 
 After the domestic spirits come those of the fields and 
 streams. A very different being from the Domovoy is the 
 Rusalka, or water nymph. A sweet pale face, shapely bust 
 and well rounded limbs, characterize the Rusalka. But her 
 strength is like Samson's, in her hair. Unfortunately it is 
 green, but it is long and thick and moist. Should it become 
 dry she dies. Therefore she never goes far from the water courses, 
 though if she carries her magic comb with her she need fear 
 no danger from this source. She has but to comb, and water 
 trickles from her tresses. The Rusalka haunts the streams 
 and water-courses. The ripple of the water is her dancing 
 feet. She clings to the water-wheel and turns round with it, 
 and the splash that is heard is her playing in the water. But 
 do not be enticed by her beauty or her playfulness, for if you 
 enter the stream, allured by her blandishments, she tickles you 
 to death. 
 
 She dresses in green leaves, or in a long white garment with- 
 out a girdle. It is a curious fact that ghosts and fairies and 
 disembodied spirits, never wear belts. You cannot point to an 
 
24 RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 
 
 instance. When clad at all, it is always in loose flowing robes. 
 No doubt there is something in the sense of confinement re- 
 pulsive to their etherial nature. 
 
 During the long, cold winter, when the streams are frozen 
 over, of course the Rusalka is not to be seen. At this time she 
 dwells in crystal halls at the bottom of the streams and lakes. 
 But at Whitsuntide she appears. The great question of course 
 then is how is she to be propitiated ? The peasant girls go 
 into the woods, and hang linen garments and rags and threads 
 on the trees. The Rusalkas appear to have a lively sense of 
 their want of clothing, and are grateful to those who supply it. 
 At this time their calls and shouts are heard in the wind, and 
 when the grain bends and sways in the breeze, it is the Rusalkas 
 swinging upon the stalks. 
 
 But as the summer advances they acquire a bad habit of 
 stealing the grain, and it becomes necessary to expel them 
 from the fields. For this purpose the girls make a straw figure, 
 and dress it in women's clothes. They take it into the grain 
 fields, and dividing into two parties, one party assails, and the 
 other defends it. In the end it is torn to pieces, and the straw 
 scattered to the winds. This expels the Rusalkas. At least 
 there are peasants who confidently affirm that they have seen 
 them running from the fields to the woods, and heard their 
 sobs and cries. 
 
 And how many of my readers are aware that the fireflies we 
 see so abundantly in summer, in damp places, are the souls of 
 unbaptized children doomed to remain fireflies for seven long 
 years, unless some one baptizes them ? If they are not 
 baptized within that time they become Rusalkas. Or that 
 the glow-worms we find in the woods are fires lighted 
 by these sprites to allure us from our path, and lose us in the 
 forest ? 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS, 25 
 
 Need I point out to my readers the resemblance between the 
 Rusalkas and the classic Naiads ? 
 
 After the Naiads naturally come the Dryads, or Lyeshys. 
 But alas ! we have no lovely Nymphs here combing their silken 
 hair, for the Lyeshy is a monster with horns and hoofs and 
 shaggy hair, a Cyclops with one eye^ and without eyebrows or 
 eyelashes — more of a Satyr than a Nymph. They are mali- 
 cious spirits, and do far more harm than good. They are 
 quarrelsome too, and their fights often disturb the silence of 
 the woods. When the hurricane tears through the forest and 
 uproots the trees, the peasants say that there is a battle among 
 the Lyeshys, and they are tearing up the trees to be used as 
 weapons. The roar of the wind is their cries of rage and defiance. 
 
 All the beasts and birds of the forest are under the dominion 
 of the Lyeshy. It behooves the hunter therefore to propitiate 
 him if he wishes to be successful. For this purpose the cau- 
 tious sportsman ta^kes a piece of bread, or a pan-cake sprinkled 
 with salt, and leaves it upon a stump in the forest as an offer- 
 ing to the Lyeshy ; or he gives him a leaf of tobacco, of which 
 he is very fond. For I grieve to state that the Lyeshy smokes 
 and drinks and plays cards. He is very particular, however, 
 about the pack he plays with, for neither he or any other 
 demon ever uses a pack with clubs. The club resembles too 
 closely a cross. 
 
 The Lyeshy is a great gambler. As his property consists 
 principally in the animals of the forest, it is these that he stakes. 
 When he loses, he pays honourably and promptly. At times 
 the field mice and squirrels, and other small animals are seen 
 migrating in immense numbers from one " government " to 
 another. They have been staked and lost at play by one 
 Lyeshy to another, and the loser is driying them to their new 
 master. 
 
26 RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS, 
 
 All these superstitions are amusing and harmless. It strikes 
 us as strange that they should exist in a Christian country, and 
 in the 19th century; but this is all. We now come to a 
 class of superstitions not so harmless — the class of spells. 
 
 Very many of the villages of Russia still have their witches 
 —formerly all had them. These witches are practitioners of 
 medicine, and are generally more employed than the doctor 
 himself. The peasants look upon diseases as evil spirits, who 
 are to be exorcised and driven out by spells and incantations. 
 When taken ill the peasant generally sends for the local witch. 
 These old women by no means neglect medicines, and they 
 have a considerable knowledge of the effects of the more 
 powerful kinds, mercury for instance. When called in they 
 sprinkle the patient, perform various magic rites, and utter in- 
 cantations to drive out the evil spirit ; not neglecting, however, 
 to administer powerful medicines. The more there is of it, 
 and the nastier it tastes, the better the patient is satisfied, and 
 the larger the fee. 
 
 But when an epidemic is threatened, or has broken out in 
 the village, then the witch is in her glory. All faith in science 
 among the peasants then disappears, and the doctor is fortu- 
 nate if, in the general distrust, suspicion is not turned against 
 him as the author of the disease. Among the striking monu- 
 ments of St. Petersburg, there is one to the Emperor Nicholas. 
 One of the bas-reliefs represents him dispersing a crowd of 
 peasants who had attacked a cholera hospital, and were stoning 
 the doctors, who would have been killed had the emperor not 
 come to their rescue. 
 
 If cholera or the cattle plague visits a village, this is the 
 witch's time. Under her direction the women form a proces- 
 sion at night, very lightly clad in their night-dresses only. The 
 men remain carefully indoors, and woe to any Peeping Tom 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 27 
 
 among them. He will be set upon and most unmercifully 
 beaten. Carrying a picture of St. Vlas, upon whom the mantle 
 of the old pagan divinity, Valos, protector of cattle, has fallen, 
 and dragging a plough with them, they make the circuit of the 
 village three times. The demon cannot cross the line drawn 
 by the plough. 
 
 If it be the " Cattle Death " they have met to expel, they 
 sing the following incantation 
 
 " Death, oh thou Cow-Death, 
 Depart from our village. 
 From the stable, from the court, 
 Through our village goes holy Ilasy, 
 With incense, with taper, 
 With burning embers. 
 We will consume thee with fire, 
 We will rake thee with the stove-rakes, 
 We will sweep thee up with the broom, 
 And we will stuff thee with ashes." 
 And then follows a delicious bit of description, that would have 
 delighted the heart of old father Virgil : — 
 " Come not to our village ! 
 Meddle not with our cows ! 
 Nut-brown, chestnut, star-browed, 
 White-teated, white-uddered. 
 Crumpled-horned, one-horned." 
 
 The poet should have added " short-horned " to his cata- 
 logue. 
 
 More serious are some of the peasants' practices about 
 cholera. There are " governments " where they hold that if the 
 I first cholera patient is buried alive, the epidemic will be stayed. 
 In others, an old woman suspected of magic is seized and 
 
28 RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 
 
 buried alive, or flung into the river with a cock, a dog, and a 
 black cat. We were shocked last summer by the account of 
 the killing of an old woman in Russia, supposed to be a witch. 
 It was done probably by the peasants, in the full faith that it 
 would keep away the Astrakan plague. Voluntary sacrifices 
 are not unknown, too. Men and women have been known to 
 draw lots, and the person on whom the lot fell was buried alive 
 with the inevitable cock and black cat. 
 
 The Russian peasant's view of vaccination, too, is not calcu- 
 lated to prevent the spread of small-pox. They look upon 
 vaccination as setting the seal of Antichrist upon the child, and 
 believe that whoever dies of small-pox will go immediately to 
 heaven, and walk in the other world in golden robes. With 
 these views among them, it is not surprising that one meets so 
 many peasants in the streets of St. Petersburg pitted with the 
 small-pox. 
 
 I have touched very lightly upon the spells of the Russian 
 peasants. They have innumerable others, as for instance to 
 secure rich husbands, to procure rain, to stop the hiccough and 
 St. Vitus' dance, etc., etc. But what must strike all my readers 
 I think, in this brief sketch of Russian superstitions, is the vein 
 of poetry that runs through so many of them. I have already 
 referred to the rippling of the stream as the dancing feet of the 
 Rusalkas, and to the swaying of the grain in the breeze as their 
 swinging upon the stalks. A star appears in the heavens upon 
 the birth of every child, and when the child dies the star dis- 
 appears. And so, my reader, when you hear the storm roaring 
 in the forest, do not think of Old Probabilities and the Meteo- 
 rological Bureau at Washington, but believe it is the voice of 
 the Lyesky doing battle with his fellows. When you listen to 
 the music of the echo, do not tell me of waves of sound, and 
 reverberation and re-percussion, but turn resolutely away, for 
 
RUSSIAN SUPERSTITIONS. 29 
 it is the voice of the wood-demon luring you to your destruc- 
 tion. And when you catch a glimpse of a shooting star on a 
 clear autumn night, do not talk of the effects of light, and heat, 
 and electricity, but believe, with the Russian peasant, that it is 
 an angel descending from heaven to bear aloft a departing 
 soul. 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 FROM THE SWEDISH OF RUNEBERG.^' 
 
 CANTO L 
 
 He's coming, the beautiful young man, 
 For I saw the flash of his dark eyes, 
 In a dream I saw them but lately; 
 I will cover myself with flowers. 
 
 THE Oka flows into the Volga, 
 And into the Oka flows Moskva. 
 To the Moskva runs babbling a brook, 
 And bears to her pearl-tinted wavelets. 
 On the flower-clad bank of the brooklet. 
 See wander a maiden of fifteen ; 
 A flower, she gathers her sisters, 
 And binds them together in bunches. 
 
 She lingers in such pleasant dalliance, 
 
 Bare-headed, and wearing a garland 
 
 Of diamonds, and stars mingled with them. 
 
 A freshly blown rose on her bosom, 
 
 A rosebud tied tenderly to it. 
 
 Around the lithe bend of her slim waist 
 
 A girdle of violets only. 
 
 And when a rich garland she'd woven, 
 Her heart full of gladness she spoke thus : 
 
 * An eminent Finnish Poet, born in 1S04 and recently deceased. 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 He's coming, the beautiful young man, 
 For I saw the flash of his dark eyes, 
 " In a dream I saw them but lately ; 
 
 will cover myself with flowers, 
 "And change my serfs dress for another, 
 " In its colour like to a rosebush, 
 " And meet him with colour and fragrance. 
 "But Holy St. George, he has come not, 
 " 'Twas only a dream of Nadeschda's." 
 
 Then welled the soft tears from her brown 
 Bright bubbles they formed in the water. 
 Soon floated away by the current. 
 A rose plucking then Nadeschdina 
 Wandered on in beauty and gladness. 
 
 At last, in a bend of the streamlet. 
 From play and from running she rested 
 In a bed of wild flowers reclining. 
 But now she would see in the water. 
 The form of the slave-girl reflected. 
 
 Thereon she bent over the brooklet. 
 She bent her head over the mirror, 
 And saw there her fair, gentle visage ; 
 A tear welled up in her brown eyes^ 
 And sobs shook the lace on her bosom. 
 " Nadeschda, poor girl," she bewailed thus, 
 " Why deck thus the charms of thy beauty ? 
 
 In thy beauty is there not danger ? 
 " 'Tis not for your joy that you dress thus, 
 "'Tis not for the choice of your glad heart, 
 " For the youth perchance your are loving. 
 For a noble's caprice you have grown up ; 
 
NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 " A mark for his insolent glances, 
 
 " Do you deck yourself thus to be^ntch him 
 
 She spoke ; from her head took the garland, 
 Then took from her bosom the roses, 
 The girdle she took from her slim waist, 
 Far out in the current she cast them : 
 Take, oh brook, these gems of Nadeschda's, 
 Bear them on thy breast to the jMoskva ; 
 " Let Moskva run quick to the Oka, 
 " Who will float them on to the Volga ; 
 " The sea they will reach with the Volga, 
 '^Find there the fair youth of my sweet dream, 
 " But to me he is only a shadow ; 
 " Alas ! in dreams only he kissed me/' 
 
 Scarce had she thus spoken, the maiden, 
 Milutin, his foster-child seeking, 
 Silver-haired, leaning hard on his staff. 
 And panting, and wearied, drew near her. 
 With joy the old man finds his daughter. 
 But raises his voice, and speaks sharply : 
 Like a hare why ramble Nadeschda, 
 Seeking covert in bushes and thickets, 
 In the trefoil that borders the brookside ? 
 " From courtyard to courtyard I've followed, 
 " In the hills, the dales, I have sought thee : 
 " Your footsteps scarce bent down the flowers, 
 " But through the fierce sun's rays I've traced th 
 
 To the old man then went the maiden. 
 And his hand taking gently in hers, 
 Lips rosy and fragrant pressed on it : 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 Now tell me, good father, I pray thee, 
 " Tell me why you followed my footsteps ? " 
 
 Said the old man, said to his daughter, 
 " There's joy in the village, Nadeschda, 
 " Overflowing with gladness each cottage, 
 " And music andsong fill the houses. 
 " Youth, old age, the rioh and the poorest, 
 " All have put on their fete-day attire ; 
 " Ribbons deck the hats of the young men, 
 " Garlands crown the locks of the maidens, 
 This is why I sought thee, Nadeschda, 
 That in the rose-clad circle of maidens, 
 "You may be, as ever, Milutin's pride." 
 
 " Now tell me, good father, I pray thee, 
 " Why bedeck themselves do the people ? " 
 
 " This is why they dress in the village, 
 
 " To go to the castle's courtyard to-day, 
 
 " In great crowds the villagers gather, 
 
 " Fathers, mothers, youths, and young maidens.'^ 
 
 " Then tell me, dear father, I pray thee, 
 
 " Long is it now the castle is closed, 
 
 " The rooms, ghosts inhabit them only, 
 
 " Rank grows the grass in the damp courtyard ; 
 
 " Who unbars the gates of the castle, 
 
 " Who invites us all to collect there ? " 
 
 Then the old man spoke, and he answered, 
 " Daughter, of your old father, fond hope, 
 " Learn then, that to two falcons were born 
 " In a noble house on the Volga, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 ^' Two princely brothers, a most noble pair. 
 " Dying, their father summoned them both 
 " To his death-bed — thus he spoke calmly, 
 " ' You sullen Dmitri ; you younger son, 
 
 ^ Here shall you reside with your mother, 
 ^' ^ In this cheerful house on the Volga. 
 " ^ You, son Woldmar, stately and gay, 
 
 ^ Inherit our mansion ancestral, 
 " ' Spread light in the house on the Moskva.' 
 " So he spake, so divided the land was. 
 " Therefore now there's joy in the village. 
 
 Glad, their prince's arrival they wait ; 
 " Therefore do the people adorn thus, 
 
 For their young prince comes hither to-day. 
 " Therefore all do throng to the castle, 
 " For so has our young father ordained. 
 
 This is why I sought thee, my daughter : 
 
 Up then, Nadeschda, come follow me. 
 
 On our way we'll gather the roses, 
 " With them deck your hair and your bosom ; 
 " To-day adorned must my daughter be, 
 " Though, fairest of all, she needs no adornment. 
 
 But to-day, so adorned she shall be, 
 " That when his eyes fall on the maidens, 
 
 He'll find among all my Nadeschda, 
 Fairest of all, light of the cottage, 
 
 Sunbeam shining bright through the darkness." 
 
 So he spoke : But speechless a minute 
 She stood, while the old man was speaking, 
 And her brown eyes indignantly flashed. 
 But softness returned in a moment, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 And kissing his silver crowned forehead, 
 She spoke, and said pleasantly to him : 
 ' Dear foster-father, go thee, I pray, 
 ' Slowly take the path to the village ; 
 ' Here must I bathe, bathe in the brooklet, 
 ^ Lest some dust on my skin there may be, 
 ^ On my red cheeks, or on my white throat. 
 ' If to the prince's castle I go, 
 ^ Flower-clad must I be in the palace." 
 
 Then the old man quietly left her, 
 Stumbling against the stones and the roots ; 
 Joyous was his heart as he left her. 
 And bright, hopeful visions o'erflowed it. 
 As he went home through the dark forest. 
 
 Then when Nadeschda saw him depart, 
 She watched his trembling steps with her eyes, 
 Till among the leaves of the birch trees, 
 Every glimpse of his dress disappeared ; 
 And when in the wood he had vanished. 
 With her ears she followed him lisf ning. 
 Till in the deep calm of the summer. 
 His step had ceased, all sound died away. 
 
 Then when she saw him, heard him no more, 
 Swift she runs to the bank of the brook, 
 Bends low down her lovely head o'er it. 
 And sees in the waves' mirror her face. 
 You lovely brook, weep for Nadeschda, 
 That in your clear waters you cannot 
 Wash their beauty from these rosy limbs. 
 
 D 2 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 ' Brooklet, shall I bathe in thy waters, 
 ' And with red roses cover myself? 
 ^ Quickly would I in you wash my cheeks, 
 * If I could wash their rose-bloom away, 
 ' And too in thee my neck I would bathe^ 
 ' If thus its milk-whiteness would vanish. 
 ' Then would I with flowers dress gladly, 
 ^ And with those flowers fade away too." 
 
 Slowly she spoke^ by her beauty made sad, 
 Then sinking her hand in the water. 
 Muddied the brook, effaced the mirror ; 
 Lost the beauteous face in the vision. 
 Dark, turbid, and clouded the image. 
 But then brightened the eyes of the maiden ; 
 ^ Young prince," she cried, " thus to thy palace^ 
 ^ Goes the slave girl by her father's command : 
 As he has willed for your eyes she goes. 
 ' But may there not rise in your bosom, 
 'Aught but a passing coldness alone." 
 
 Then from the flow'ry bank of the brook. 
 Took she a path that led to the hall ; 
 And adorning her dress as she went. 
 Plucked not the flowers, only the grass. 
 On her head she a mourning crown placed, 
 A wreath made of thistles she fastened. 
 O'er her full neck on her dark dress. 
 Then of straw a girdle she plaited. 
 And with it encircled her slim waist. 
 Thus to her master's palace she goes, 
 Silent and sad she goes on her way. 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 37 
 
 CANTO II. 
 Then he called loud to his faithful serf, 
 
 Quick, bring me my horse, Ivan ; 
 Bring hither, too, my falcon white, 
 
 'Tis time that the chase began. 
 
 Hark, what sounds there come from the Moskva, 
 
 From the stream peaceful and bright ; 
 Do torrents break forth on the hill sides, 
 
 Herds hasten home for the night ? 
 Peaceful flows the beautiful river, 
 
 The herds still graze on the leas ; 
 No storm shakes the aspens and lindens, 
 
 Not a leaf stirs in the breeze. 
 
 Crowds stand on the bank near the river, 
 
 Follow the course of the stream ; 
 Now mark how they haste to the water. 
 
 On the bridge see something gleam. 
 What splendour ! this bright gilded carriage, 
 
 Lackeys and beautiful steeds ! 
 Now they've left the shade of the forest. 
 
 For the broad light on the meads. 
 Now a prince appears 'mid the people, 
 
 'Mid the crowd stately and fair ; 
 'Tis the heir, the gallant Prince Woldmar, 
 
 With him his brother is there. 
 
 Rushed the crowd like a storm to the bridge, 
 Stopped on the opposite shore : 
 
38 NAJDESCHDA. 
 
 Then crossing his forehead. Prince Woldmar, 
 And crossing his breast once more : 
 
 Heavenly country, all hail," said he, 
 Fertile and beautiful strand I 
 " Hail to thee, brother, hail too to thee, 
 
 " Welcome to see my fair land." 
 
 On his right his brother stood silent, 
 
 Casting quick glances about, 
 Some minutes he gazed about only, 
 
 At length, in reply, spoke out : 
 On that shore the harvests are heavy, 
 " On this the banks flower-crowned, 
 " On that side you see a vast forest, 
 
 " Joy of the hunter and hound. 
 " And from here I see your fair castle, 
 ^' It's turret gleams in the sun. 
 Unmoved can I look on this always, 
 Think of the fortune you've won ! " 
 
 " Replied then with mildness. Prince Woldmar 
 
 " What is this chill in your breast? 
 " With joy, true, I gaze on this castle, 
 But not because 'tis the best. 
 But welcome, you are here my brother^ 
 Welcome you always will be ; 
 *^ Of salt and of bread share the off ring 
 " My serfs bring hither to me." 
 Then he gave his hand to his brother. 
 
 Prince Dimitri took it and said : 
 How hot beats the sun on the bridge now, 
 " How cool and grateful the shade ! 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 " There are paths I see in yon meadow, 
 Hence to your castle they wind : 
 I will mount, my horse shall soon bear me - 
 " Shade in the forest to find." 
 
 Then he called loud to his faithfiil serf, 
 " Quick, bring me my horse, Ivan ; 
 " Bring hither, too, my falcon white, 
 " 'Tis time that the chase began." 
 
 Lightly Prince Woldmar sprang from his place, 
 And gave to his serfs command, 
 " To the castle haste at once, m'y men. 
 And say that we're here at hand. 
 My brother would hunt, my noble guest 
 " Would seek in the park a hare ; 
 *^Soon at the castle we'll join you all, 
 Let no man follow us there." 
 
 Then on the back of his snorting horse, 
 
 He sprang from the ground amain, 
 While Dmitri restrained his fiery steed. 
 
 With the foam flecked bridle rein. 
 Dmitri his falcon held on his wrist, 
 
 And Woldmar his falcon bare, 
 And while the coaches roll to the hall. 
 
 The people follow them there. 
 
 O'er the earth how bright shines the sky, 
 'Neath the sky how green lies the earth ; 
 
 How smiling the earth and the sky. 
 This glorious summer day's birth. 
 
 The earth lighted up by the sun. 
 
 Bears flowers, and shows glist'ning streams, 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 On the hill-top grows too a wood, 
 Through its foliage flicker his beams. 
 
 On the meadow far from the wood, 
 
 Stands a birch a century old, 
 On its top is sitting a dove, 
 
 But is her home there on the wold ? 
 
 Not in the wild wood, the forest, 
 Has the mother builded her nest ; 
 
 Hatched was she here, on the cottage. 
 The peaceable cottager's guest. 
 
 From her nest on the huf s turf roof. 
 In the morning the dawn she saw ; 
 
 Then fluttering to earth, picked up 
 The grain fallen out of the straw. 
 
 And when her blue wings were full fledged. 
 How swift she flew forth to the wood ; 
 
 There swung on the branches, and bathed. 
 And in the cool rivulet stood. 
 
 And now she sat there on the top 
 Of the lonely birch on the mere. 
 
 And pluming her wings with her beak, 
 When the two prince-brothers drew near. 
 
 And then the first stopped and looked up. 
 
 At once to the other he said : 
 Softly, Dimitri, there's a dove, 
 " Unhood, quick, your falcon," he bade. 
 
 Dark Dmitri replied thereupon, 
 The dove is she not in your park ! 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 " Yours the first chance, my brother, 
 " But for me the chase 'tis to mark.'' 
 
 Answered Prince Woldmar then gaily, 
 " A truce to dark words, my brother ; 
 " Your falcon unhood — let it fly, 
 " Let it fly forth with the other." 
 
 And to the blue sphere of Heaven 
 Swift mounted the two falcons white ; 
 
 Higher and higher they mounted, 
 
 And sought for their prey with keen sight. 
 
 And still on the branch sat the dove, 
 On the top of the white birch tree ; 
 
 Like lightning pounced the fierce falcons, 
 As soon as the poor dove they see. 
 
 But near the tree-top in swooping, 
 Encountered the birds in mid-air ; 
 
 Eyes flashed to eyes fierce defiance, 
 And wings beat wings savagely there. 
 
 And a bloody strife then began. 
 
 Between the two birds in their flight. 
 
 And the fierce rivals contending, 
 
 Thought not of the dove in her fright. 
 
 But swift from the bough where she sat. 
 Now sorely affrighted she flies ; 
 
 Near, very near, are the falcons, 
 And far, very far, the hut lies. 
 
 She looked around in her terror. 
 And she saw the two men in sight ; 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 She swiftly flies to Prince Woldmar, 
 On his shoulder safe to alight. 
 
 But still in mid-air the falcons, 
 
 Fought ever with beak and with claw, 
 
 Till fluttering down in its death-throes, 
 Prince Woldmar his falcon saw. 
 
 The victor, who now was alone, 
 To the Heavens once more he flies. 
 
 And eager looks round for the dove, 
 A fierce, cruel light in his eyes. 
 
 He sees her, and swiftly he darts. 
 Like a falling star on his prey, 
 
 And bold hovers near with red claws. 
 O'er the spot where the poor dove lay. 
 
 Blind then with rage Prince Dimitri, 
 As he sought its wild flight to check. 
 
 Struck with his whip the fierce falcon. 
 And broke thus the savage bird's neck. 
 
 Silent they stood for some minutes. 
 
 When Dmitri, with voice that was grave 
 "Woldmar, my falcon I had saved, 
 " Your dove had it not been to save." 
 
 " That is true, most noble brother," 
 
 Prince Woldmar assentingly cried, 
 " Yet hard 't would have been to rob her, 
 " Of the port to which she had hied ? " 
 
 To his falcon dead on the ground. 
 Then Dimitri pointing, said slow, 
 
NADESCHDA. 43 
 ^^That bird I have lost for your joy, 
 But all that it cost do you know 
 
 Prince Woldemar's forehead grew dark, 
 
 To his brother's complaint he replied ; 
 Was your hawk, brother, so costly? 
 " Now, tell me its value,'' he cried. 
 
 What was bought again can be bought, 
 
 What it cost can soon be repaid ; 
 But the trust of the heart once lost, 
 " Must be given, not bought," he said. 
 
 His lip Dmitri curled in a sneer 
 
 As his wont, and then answered back : 
 Now all is well, noble brother. 
 " For its price is all that I lack." 
 
 So you wish to know what it cost ; 
 
 " Very much it cost not," he said, 
 It cost two purple lips only, 
 
 ^' Cost only two cheeks rosy-red." 
 
 " Two arms, which in tenderest chains, 
 
 " This loved neck did sometimes embrace, 
 
 " Two eyes of dark brown that wept sore, 
 " When that bird I bought for the chase." 
 
 With his wonted coolness he spoke. 
 
 Then Prince Woldmar warmly replied ; 
 Far more than a hundred slave girls, 
 " On these vast estates do reside." 
 
 Then, brother, choose one among them, 
 And if one suffices thee not. 
 
NÄDESCHDA, 
 
 ^ Choose two, choose three, if you wish it, 
 " And let my great fault be forgot." 
 
 ^ Of purple lips twice a hundred, 
 " Two hundred fair cheeks, rosy-red. 
 Of blooming arms the same number, 
 "Now belong to me here," he said. 
 
 ' And what I own I can order, 
 " But one thing I cannot, I see ; 
 
 ' No two lovely eyes of dark brown, 
 "That neglected, wept sorely for thee." 
 
 Scarce had Prince Woldmar thus spoken, 
 A girl coming out of the shade, 
 
 Pursued her way to the castle ; 
 But a moment in sight she stayed. 
 
 Prince Dimitri laughed, then he said, 
 " Saw you that young girl, Woldemar ? 
 
 ' I ask but one 'mong the many, 
 " Fairest among them I deem her." 
 
 ^ But star-grass she wore on her head, 
 " A girdle of straw round her waist ; 
 
 ^ My slave girls smile in fresh flowers, 
 "When their master to greet they haste." 
 
 So he said ; Prince Woldmar kept still. 
 Not caring to answer or speak ; 
 
 But fast the day was advancing. 
 In silence the castle they seek. 
 
NÄDESCHDA, 
 
 CANTO III. 
 
 And as she breathed forth her warm earnest prayer, 
 To him whom she loved in her breast ; 
 
 On bended knees waiting, her red hps said no more, 
 But her dark loving eyes spoke best. 
 
 From the hills and the dales the crowd is now streaming, 
 
 The gay happy serfs of the hall. 
 They have donned their best robes, to the castle they sw 
 
 And await there their master's call. 
 In silence around all the gaily gilt coaches, 
 
 And the gold-laced lackeys they stand ; 
 The old men and women, and some of the younger. 
 
 An awe-struck, open-mouthed band. 
 But Milutin alone, the silver-haired old man, 
 
 A part in their joy could not bear. 
 For the light of his eyes, the prop of his old age, 
 
 Nadeschda, his child, was not there. 
 
 And now on their gay, glittering stallions there sprang 
 
 From the wood, of horsemen a pair. 
 And the people rejoicing rushed swiftly to meet them, 
 
 And, " Welcome you are," rent the air. 
 
 From twice one hundred lips the loud cry then arose, 
 
 As his horse he suddenly checked ; 
 On his right arm a dove he as tenderly bore, 
 
 As if for an infant he recked. 
 
 So they shouted aloud from their glad, hopeful hearts, 
 And humbly they swarm to the hall, 
 
46 NÄDESCHDA, 
 
 And now in the archway of the castle-gate stand, 
 Then down on their bended knees fall. 
 
 Prince Woldmar has come, but with lowering look comes, 
 
 Nor his mouth nor his eyes do smile ; 
 Sore frightened his people dare not now shout at all, 
 
 But guard gloomy silence the while. 
 
 At this cold silence to his brother turned Dmitri, 
 " My brother," he laughed, and he cried. 
 Is there life in this people, or do we but see 
 Only phantoms and ghosts by our side ? 
 ^' In truth my own people I intend to drill well, 
 
 " That they too be happily dumb, 
 '^^ That my ears may not by their glad shouts be disturbed, 
 When to greet them, among them I come." 
 
 He spoke, and his brother feeling deeply his words, 
 
 Where he was he stopped on the spot ; 
 Then Milutin he saw, beckoned him to approach, 
 And to him with deep anger hot — 
 " Have my people no hearts, no voices to raise, 
 " No words when their prince them doth greet ? 
 Does he come here among them a scourge sent from God, 
 " That him only frightened looks meet?" 
 
 He said — humbly the old man bent down his white head, 
 And to his wroth Prince he repUed — 
 " When the sun, noble Prince, shines out bright and clear, 
 
 " The earth in his beams, too, is bright ; 
 ^'But when storm clouds arise, through them dim shines the sun 
 " The earth hides her face in affright." 
 
 He stopped short, for his fair foster-daughter he saw, 
 Saw the beautiful girl draw nigh ; 
 
NADESCHDA, 47 
 Unmarked she had come, among the women she went, 
 
 But she could not escape his eye. 
 Then his answer, himself, and his Prince he forgot, 
 
 For her dress astonished he saw ; 
 And angry he hurried from her dark hair to snatch, 
 The garland of wild grass she wore. 
 
 Prince Dmitri then spoke, and with loud noise clapped his 
 hands, 
 
 And he cried out laughing aloud. 
 See, see, my brother, what sort of protector, 
 " Your old man seeks in the crowd." 
 
 So he spoke — Prince Woldemar looked and he saw, 
 
 Where the girl with the straw belt stood ; 
 In his breast his anger redoubled was kindled. 
 
 Remembering her form in the wood. 
 Then he cried, " Here you straw-nymph, grass-decorated, 
 " You have come forth a bride, I see, 
 Well, my slave, my old guard, my Andrew you shall wed ; 
 " A fit choice he will be for thee." 
 
 Woldmar's sharp, bitter words heard the beautiful girl. 
 
 But she looked up straight in his face — 
 Oh, Heavens ! The angry, fierce glare of those black eyes, 
 
 On his brow no pardon, no grace. 
 But the noble, fair face she had once seen before. 
 
 For she sees the youth of her dream. 
 Tis the same, but not bright and not mild now as when 
 
 They sat by the side of the stream. 
 On the banks of the brook, gazing into the glass, 
 
 Saw her soul reflected in his. 
 
48 NADESCHDA. 
 
 To look now on his angry, stern face she cannot, 
 
 No, not to gain Heaven on high ! 
 Weep she can only, melt with the dew of soft tears, 
 
 Only love him, and worship, and die. 
 
 With no fear that his goodness her prayer would deny. 
 
 Forthwith from the crowd she came out. 
 The Prince she approaches, bends her knees in the dust, 
 Clasps her hands, and speaks with no doubt ; 
 " Nadeschdina's Master, on your slave girl's tears look, 
 " And your anger towards her forget ; 
 Glad fortune she'd think it, now deeply repentant, 
 
 " If her life you would spare her yet. 
 My garland is dark, at my girdle you're angry, 
 " But Prince, when I wove them I said, 
 ^' Poor art thou Nadeschda, this straw will match with you, 
 And this grass with you is well wed. 
 But most willingly now, only Prince, to please you, 
 
 " From this straw I gladly do part. 
 These sharp thistles too I will take from my bosom, 
 " And keep them to sting in my heart." 
 
 Thus she spoke — from her dark hair quickly she took 
 
 The sorrowful wild grass away ; 
 Then swiftly she loosed from her waist the straw girdle. 
 And said, while her eyes to him pray : 
 Oh, Prince, of your goodness, forget now your anger, 
 
 " Forgive with one glance of your eye. 
 Let me see in your face the mildness belongs there, 
 "And then let me thank you, and die." 
 
 Put see, on those dark upturned eyes there rested, 
 A wrapt gaze on Woldemar's part ; 
 
NADESCHDA. 49 
 He would speak, but only a sigh of enthralment 
 
 Escapes from his overcharged heart. 
 Such beauty he had never on Volga's banks seen, 
 
 Never seen on Moskva's fair stream ; 
 Gazing on her bewitched, and entranced was his soul, 
 
 And awake he thought 'twas a dream. 
 
 Then said Prince Dimitri, triumphantly smiling. 
 
 And speaking he then whispered low, 
 Woldmar take care, you promised me a slave girl, 
 "And this girl is my choice, you know." 
 
 His brother's sharp words, with their sting, roused Woldemar, 
 
 And now from his dream he awakes. 
 For an instant his eyes gazed round without seeing. 
 
 And the blood abandoned his cheeks. 
 But at length with force his brother's hand wringing, 
 " Your choice, you say, brother," said he, 
 " But slaves only, remember, you were to choose from, 
 
 " And this lovely girl, she is free. 
 " Born was she free ; who was born for an angel, 
 " A free girl from her birth she grew. 
 'Tis not as a present her freedom I give her, 
 " Confirm it is all that I do." 
 
 He turned to the slave girl, and to her said gently, 
 
 " Stand up, fair Nadeschda," said he, 
 " You are free as the breeze, as the birds you are free, 
 
 " From all masters' bonds you are free. 
 " But, poor dove, see you not two falcons pursue you, 
 
 " Ready to pounce on the weak ; 
 " Whither the beat of your soft wings will it bear you, 
 
 " Where will you safe shelter seek ? " 
 
so NADESCHDA. 
 
 Then the beautiful slave girl stood up, and she kissed 
 Prince Woldemar's hand, and repHed : 
 " As but now in the wood the poor dove found a home, 
 
 " I'm safe by Prince Woldemar's side. 
 " Amid danger, to you I will fly, oh my Prince, 
 
 " For with you protection there is, 
 " Your kind, noble heart, will all safety afford me, 
 From the beaks of your hawk and his." 
 
 To the cheeks of Woldemar there mounted a flush, 
 
 A sign to his brother he made, 
 And sullen his brother to the house went with him, 
 
 And they sought the castle hall's shade. 
 
 His father's castle that evening longing to see, 
 
 Dimitri from room ran to room. 
 But he gave one look at the face of his brother. 
 
 And his angry heart became dumb. 
 And 'twas so when at first to their supper they went. 
 
 In silence they sat for a time. 
 His glass then raised Dimitri, and champagne he quaffed off, 
 
 And talked as he felt the good wine. 
 And with his first glass he called Woldemar happy, 
 
 Who was in his own castle free. 
 While himself in his home his mother's ward was, 
 
 And must what his mother willed be. 
 But he cared not for that, for without fortune's aid. 
 
 And in spite of all her ill will. 
 That thus 'twas far better^ he with sullen looks said. 
 
 He would work out his own fate still. 
 
 And with liis next glass he called himself happy, 
 He was robbed for Woldmar's sake ; 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 And said, " a health to you," but a word he would add, 
 "You might bend, but could not him break.'' 
 
 And with his third glass he sprang up from the table. 
 His brother's glass touched, and he cried, 
 
 A health to you, Woldmar, but from each robber hand, 
 " My slave 111 rob, mine to abide." 
 
 But alas ! that same night, to Milutin's cottage, 
 
 Came a horseman armed cap-a-pie, 
 Among all the faithful serfs of Prince Woldmar, 
 
 Was always held faithfulest he. 
 And he fastened his horse near Milutin's cottage. 
 
 And he looked, then entered with care ; 
 And he staid some few minutes, and then he came back, 
 
 And Nadeschda followed him there. 
 And up to the saddle he lifted her lightly, 
 
 And himself he swung there aright. 
 And the mettlesome horse he let feel the keen spur, 
 
 And he rode away mute as the night. 
 
 And long search was made for news of the poor maiden. 
 
 Carried off from the land was she, 
 And the people made a song, and in wonder they asked, 
 
 Where the horseman's mute flight could be. 
 And sadly Milutin each day walked the highway. 
 
 His child asks of all with deep sighs. 
 His silver hair tears, from others' joys turns away, 
 
 While tears dim the sight of his eyes. 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 CANTO IV. 
 Oft a question IVe asked you ; 
 And I've asked it each time, 
 Both in winter and summer, 
 Your bright eyes shone upon me. 
 
 In calm Kama's environs, 
 
 From the court's garish gUtter, 
 
 Seeks a refuge a princess j 
 
 Fortune's favours she flies from. 
 
 Near the stream her home chooses, 
 
 In the shade of the lindens. 
 
 Of three handsome young daughters, 
 
 The glad mother she was too. 
 
 On her bright happy abode, 
 
 One summer's night shone the moon, 
 
 And in the park the night breeze 
 
 Came and played with the shadows. 
 
 Pursuing and being pursued. 
 
 Amid the shadows there sat 
 On that warm summer evening, 
 In that park so secluded, 
 A young man and a maiden. 
 They spoke low in the still night. 
 
 And they spoke between kisses, 
 Yet one word and another, 
 As the light cloudlets are born, 
 In the blue summer heaven, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 Some are born purple coloured, 
 
 Silver-white or rose-tinted. 
 
 Or are pale or black-shaded, 
 
 So were born in the heaven 
 
 Of their own bhss^ their low words. 
 
 Eut at last spoke the young man : 
 " Oft a question IVe asked you, 
 
 And I have asked it each time, 
 " Both in winter and summer. 
 
 Your bright eyes shone upon me. 
 
 But high o'er yon gilt hill tops, 
 " In heaven's vault shines the moon, 
 
 And the night's minutes speed on ; 
 
 Yet once more will I ask it." 
 
 And the maid said and answered : 
 ^Oft times I have answered you, 
 
 A reply for each pleasure, 
 ^ My love's kindness prepared me. 
 ' Now contented I live here, 
 ^ In this calm abode happy, 
 ' A sister with sisters dear, 
 ' With her mother, a daughter. 
 ' Always, always, I've answered, 
 
 * And will always so answer." 
 
 ^ In reply," said the young prince, 
 ' In this calm bright abode here, 
 ^ In a dear friend's friendly home, 
 ' And by loving hands tended, 
 ' Shines blooming my flower, 
 
 * Folds herself in her beauty. 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 And here she learns much to know^ 
 To solve many questions ; 
 One question she never solves — 
 From whence comes my happiness^ 
 ^ Whenever her kiss I meet ? " 
 
 And replied then the maiden, 
 ^ On the ocean a sailor, 
 ' My young prince is now like to ; 
 ' He sees not the flowered shores, 
 ' But is met by their fragrance. 
 ' Then he wonders and searches, 
 •And finds in himself he has, 
 ^ The great treasure of flowers, 
 ^ Oh, my prince, if you're happy, 
 ^ When my kiss you are meeting, 
 
 'Tis my happiness in it 
 ^ Spreads its fragrance to you." 
 
 But the prince said, " O maiden, 
 ^ Doubly happy you are, for 
 ' Your own is your happiness ; 
 ' But I, the poor sailor, 
 ^ From my flower-bed absent, 
 " Before my eyes there can shine 
 
 But little joy evermore. 
 " A lonely sea is the world — 
 " In height and depth there is void ; 
 " In the heart there is sorrow. 
 " Truly says my Nadeschda, 
 " In one spot I am happy, 
 " Where I am with her only." 
 
NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 The maid's hand in his he took, 
 And he said with a low laugh : 
 My happiness, may I think, 
 " Nadeschda makes happy too ? 
 
 " My love makes my happiness, 
 Therefore is everlasting, 
 Does not fly like my prince's." 
 
 'Tis your love makes you happy, 
 " Pr}thee tell me, what is love ? " 
 
 And she said, like Spring smiling, 
 ^* Now my prince," she made answer, 
 
 Knows not love, for he asks me ; 
 " But, indeed, well I know it. 
 Long ago I remember, 
 In my young maiden mornings, 
 Fell the snow on the hill-tops, 
 High between Earth and Heaven, 
 ''So calm and so lovely it. 
 So white, but so chilling. 
 But the sun rose upon it, 
 " From his great eye came the heat — 
 " Then it melted, and in rivers, 
 '•Beyond thought and beyond sight, 
 *' The snow faded and vanished — 
 *' And the cold chilling snow flakes 
 '• Had grown warm, grown a mirror, 
 " To reflect the blue heaven, 
 " And the earth's bridal flowers. 
 *' In that mirror reflected, 
 " Were those gentle eyes always.'^ 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 ' And whose, tell me^ oh, maiden, 
 ^ Oh, whose were those gentle eyes ?" 
 
 The maid answered not, her head, 
 
 Her beautiful, shapely head. 
 
 On his shoulder sank slowly. 
 
 The breeze came and blew gently, 
 
 Blew in sport round the lovers, 
 
 And the shadows still flickered, 
 
 With the bright moonbeams they played. 
 
 On the locks of the maiden, 
 
 On her tremulous bosom. 
 
 Some time fled in sweet silence ; 
 
 Then her shapely head raising, 
 
 Spoke again the young maiden — 
 ' Oft my prince," she said softly. 
 
 Often questions you've asked me, 
 ' But now one question only, 
 * Nadeschda would ask too. 
 ' Here my eyes have seen twice, 
 ^ Seen these green leaves putting forth, 
 ' And then seen them fall again, 
 ^ And in two years' time only 
 ' Has my prince come to see us. 
 ' Yet he says he is happy, 
 ' In this spot with me only — 
 ^ Then why comes he so seldom ? " 
 
 Then the shade of a leaf fell. 
 The shade of the heart perhaps, 
 Fell over the prince's face. 
 Answering her thus he spoke : 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 " My Nadeschda, my duties, 
 In the Court, in the Army, 
 Palace splendours and pleasures, 
 Keep Woldmar a prisoner." 
 
 But then, said the young maiden : 
 " Here my eyes have for two years 
 "Seen these green leaves putting forth, 
 "And then seen them fall again. 
 " And in two years twice only 
 " Has my prince come to see us ; 
 " If the Court's duties, pleasures, 
 "Keep Woldmar a prisoner, 
 " Then how comes he so often ? '' 
 
 And he answered, the young prince. 
 Like a sigh was his low laugh ; 
 " Oh ! my soul/' he said to her, 
 " I long always to stay here, 
 " With you in these leafy groves, 
 " And with you seek a dwelling, 
 " Far from all a Court's duties, 
 " As a pair of young doves 
 " Seek but a nest for their love. 
 " But no hour with you I own, 
 " Do not own, only steal it. 
 " For two dark powers threaten 
 " Our happiness evermore, 
 " One of them my brother is, 
 " And the other my mother." 
 
 " One who a prince brother is, 
 " Can he injure his brother ? " 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 " You remember the hour, love, 
 
 You remember the first time. 
 The first time our glances met. 
 
 That moment our hearts met too. 
 " Then my brother was near us ; 
 " He saw you, and your beauty 
 " Lit a flame in his bosom, 
 '^Wild, fierce, and unquenchable, 
 " Since that hour in his wild life, 
 " He wanders firom place to place. 
 
 One object alone pursues. 
 
 In all places he seeks you. 
 
 From your own prince, Nadeschda, 
 
 Spite of all earthly power, 
 
 Spite of heaven, spite of hell, 
 " From my arms he will tear you 
 " If again he should see you." 
 
 " But my prince named his mother ; 
 " Has she no mother's feelings ? " 
 
 Nadeschda," he answered her. 
 
 Cold and inexorable 
 
 And foolish that mother is, 
 " Natalia Feodroffna. 
 " No joy and no liveliness, 
 " No heart moves her dogged will. 
 " Only power Imperial, 
 " The pride of her high descent. 
 
 Many slaves, many orders, 
 " 'Tis these only she cares for. 
 " And your beauty, oh ! maiden, 
 
 No beauty she '11 see in you — 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 Of your dark eyes the heaven, 
 
 Nor the soul there reflected, 
 " O'er your lovely face playing, 
 " Now in light, now in shadow. 
 " A slave-girl, but a slave-girl 
 " She will see in you only. 
 " And should she my darling find. 
 
 From my side she will tear her, 
 " Even were I you holding 
 " Close pressed to my bleeding heart.'' 
 
 And his strong arm in trembling 
 Round the girl's slim waist he put, 
 And to its rest on his shoulder. 
 Soft sighing she sank her head : 
 
 ^^Oh, memories of childhood, 
 
 " Oh, ye dear recollections. 
 You, oh. Sun, in the blue sky 
 Your sweet light dispensing — 
 
 " And you earth, crowned with flowers — 
 
 " Oh, ye streams, lakes, and fountains, 
 
 " Ye my friends beloved dearly. 
 Oh, that I had ne'er seen you ! 
 
 ^'That a princess I'd grown up, 
 
 " In a palace's riches — 
 Seen only the light of lamps, 
 And walked stiff in the splendour 
 
 " Of gold-cloth, and of jewels ! 
 
 " Then would I have had perhaps 
 Great descent, like Woldemar's : 
 For were I but a princess, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 " My love, then, I might have loved, 
 "And been too by him beloved." 
 
 She ceased — all sounds died away, 
 Died away on her rosy lips. 
 Silent too was the young prince, 
 . And born in their loves' heaven 
 Rose no words to the sky more. 
 And the night waned in silence. 
 
 CANTO V. 
 
 And many, many hours, 
 From his carriage, his servants, he staid away, 
 
 Now a fruit-tree he is, 
 To-day to our huts he brings many blessings. 
 
 Two sad years have gone by 
 Since in his cottage lone sat old Milutin. 
 
 At dawn of the morning, 
 The morn's air to breathe he went to the garden. 
 
 An ash was in blossom 
 Near to the cottage ; his seat he took 'neath it. 
 
 All alone sat he now, 
 Solitary, for Nadeschda had vanished. 
 
 A sparrow, bees swarming 
 In the tree's top, were his only companions. 
 
 Came a friend, an old man, 
 To Milutin 'neath the ashtree he called out : 
 
 " Milutin, health to you, 
 " I bring to you here a message of gladness." 
 
 Then the old man sat up, 
 His hands to his guest he eagerly stretched out. 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 " What news do you bring then ? 
 "'^ Has the land won peace, with honour and glory ? 
 
 " Battles' God, has his hand 
 " In love on our Empress his own arms bestowed ? " 
 
 Said his friend to him then : 
 Nearer to us is this joyful news, brother. 
 
 " Come is our gracious prince — 
 In the night, near the hall, stopped he his carriage. 
 
 " And many, many hours 
 From his carriage, his servants, he staid away. 
 " Now a fruit-tree he is, 
 " To-day to our huts he brings many blessings ; 
 
 To-day from his castle 
 " Go none with empty hands disappointed away. 
 
 So has the prince ordered, 
 " And gifts from full hands now fall there in showers. 
 
 Then sighed old Milutin — 
 " What new bliss," said he, makes him so generous 
 
 " Again have his glances 
 Fallen on a maid, on a young girl's beauty ? 
 
 " At evening, in twilight, 
 "We see all at times, in golden tints, brother ; 
 
 " In the morn we awake, 
 " And in vain we call for our lost only daughter." 
 
 So he said, and a tear 
 In his cheeks' furrows trickled and quivered yet. 
 
 When a messenger came. 
 Loaded with rich gifts he came to the old man. 
 
 "Milutin, hail to you.'' 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 So spoke the servant, his burden then laid down 
 
 At the feet of the old man. 
 Hail to Milutin, and glad days I wish him. 
 
 " Hear now our prince's word ; 
 Of my people the oldest Milutin is, 
 
 " And his old age shall be 
 A calm summer's eve, of light full, and gladness." 
 
 From the mound where he sat, 
 Uprose the old man, in his hand took his staff, 
 
 Answered not; but he turned. 
 And slow to the hall went on his weary way. 
 
 But in his noble hall 
 High sat Prince Woldmar, with smiling brow, happy, 
 
 Spoke gentle words only, 
 Spoke to the old man, his trusty old servant : 
 " Vladimir, I remember 
 That gray was your head since my first recollection ; 
 
 "Now tell me, how long now, 
 Faithful serf of our house, have you done service ? " 
 
 The old man stood silent — 
 Then on his full beard his hand placed reflecting. 
 
 But at length, and he shook 
 His white head, he spoke, and he said to his prince : 
 
 " How long 't is I know not, 
 " But I have mourned, oh, my prince, many seasons — 
 
 " So reckoned must time be, 
 " What life passes happy? 'Tis grief measures time. 
 
 " A young boy I was yet, 
 " As high perhaps as your princely knee reaching, 
 
 A stripling I was when 
 Your noble father's first footsteps I steadied." 
 
NADESCHDA, ( 
 Then gently said Woldmar, 
 To the old man said, he looked, and spoke mildly : 
 
 " Vladimir, from my house 
 To-morrow I go, summoned by high affairs ; 
 " I cannot remain here, 
 " But to unfriendly eyes must not leave my home. 
 " Here then shall you reside, 
 And here in my place, your tried fidelity rule, 
 
 And all that you order 
 Shall here be obeyed like unto my own will. 
 But one is here whose word, 
 " Whose order, mere glance, you will promptly obey. 
 
 ^' And here hidden, concealed, 
 " Be sure there is no one knows of her rank. 
 By you sole seen and known, 
 From prying eyes hid, to all in the village 
 
 " Known as your daughter she. 
 And as your mistress known here to you only. 
 
 " Trusty Vladimir, say. 
 What your prince says, have you well understood it ? 
 
 "Secure can he journey; 
 Know of his will you will not be forgetful ? " 
 
 Said the trusty old man, 
 On his face shining a bright look of contentment, 
 
 Glad he stretched forth his hand. 
 And crossed his large chest, and then his prince answered 
 
 " My prince, very aged 
 Vladimir is for each unwonted duty. 
 
 *^ But to obey he is wont, 
 And 'tis in this hes all the strength that he has.'' 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 And when so he had said, 
 He went from the room 'neath the prince's mild glance. 
 
 In the room by himself, 
 With his bliss radiant alone remained Woldmar. 
 
 He remained there a moment, 
 When old Milutin the door opened boldly ; 
 
 Then entered the old man, 
 For 'twas in vain the servants would stop him ; 
 
 But when the Prince's glance 
 Fell on him, he stopped, and stood there respectful ; 
 
 Then on his knees he fell, 
 And down to the ground he bent his high forehead. 
 
 From Woldmar's face vanished 
 The shade of anger that had first come o'er it, 
 
 And softly he stroked then 
 The hard, horny hand of his trusty servant. 
 
 Then said he, Milutin, 
 What is the reason you come like a tempest ? 
 
 " But stand up, tell your wish. 
 From my house to-day goes nobody grieving." 
 
 The old man heaved a sigh : 
 Poor, oh, my lord, is the complaint of the poor, 
 
 " One only lark I had — 
 ' Your hawk came, and stole my lark from my cottage." 
 
 Replied Woldmar gently ; 
 ' Not hard now in truth is it this sorrow to heal, 
 
 " I have a nightingale j 
 ' Her will I give you in place of your lark." 
 
 The old man heaved a sigh : 
 ' Poor^ oh, my lord, is the complaint of the poor. 
 
NADESCHDA, 6 
 
 " But alas ! this sorrow 
 Cannot be healed by nightingale's notes, sweet song. 
 
 " A shape, a form beloved, 
 " A lithe, slender shape, an elm sapling I had once, 
 
 " Of my hut the treasure, 
 " A robber came from your castle, and stole it." 
 
 Replied Woldmar gently : 
 Not hard now in truth is it this sorrow to heal, 
 " A gold image I have, 
 " This will I give you in place of your sapling." 
 
 The old man heaved a sigh : 
 " Poor, oh, my lord, is the complaint of the poor ! 
 
 " But alas ! this sorrovr'', 
 " Fair promises heal not, the glitter of gold. 
 
 A daughter I once had : 
 " She was my lark, and 'twas she was my sapling. 
 
 " She was but a slave girl, 
 " So from my poor, bleeding heart, you have torn her." 
 
 Replied then Prince Woldmar, 
 And now his cheeks glowed, and beamed his fair forehead 
 
 Then said he, " Milutin, 
 " From my house to-day goes nobody grieving." 
 
 A soft sigh was then heard, 
 A word, a name, came forth from the Prince's lips ; 
 
 A door gently opened, 
 K closed door gently opens, opens slightly : 
 
 And fairer than ever. 
 Fairer than in the days of her village home, 
 
 Like unto a rare rose, 
 'Neath the old man's happy eyes stood Nadeschda. 
 
66 NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 Then gently spoke Woldmar, 
 And her hand familiarly he took in his ; 
 
 To the old man standing there, 
 His beautiful foster daughter he led up : 
 
 Milutin, trusty slave, 
 " A nightingale for your lark I did offer, 
 
 A bright image of gold 
 " For that of elm from your hut I had stolen. 
 
 " My gifts you rejected, 
 "Asked but your daughter, a tender young slave girl 
 
 " A Princess I have here, 
 "In place of the slave a Princess I give you." 
 
 Then a pearl clear as day, 
 Trickled down o'er the fair cheek of Nadeschda, 
 
 Silent but tenderly. 
 She kissed the old man's forehead with rosy lips. 
 
 CANTO VI. 
 
 " Oh, that you'd brought me up, that the light of that star 
 " You just now admired had attracted me too. 
 " A child in play happy, I had honor sought eager, 
 "With my sword bought it, drained my hfe in the game." 
 
 High in her hall on the bank of the Volga, 
 In her marbled room, alone 'mid her portraits. 
 Portraits ancestral, nobles of great descent, 
 Sat in her grandeur, Natalia Feodroffna. 
 Here, so had ordered the will of the Princess, 
 Preparations were made to receive Dimitri, 
 Now very long from his father's house absent. 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 Entered his mother first, a feast was prepared ; 
 Served in the great hall, where rich purple curtains 
 Fell in large folds, and were draped round the portraits. 
 And near the Princess' seat richly embroidered, 
 For her son ready placed was a tabouret. 
 Minutes passed, and still the proud Princess waited : 
 Then Dimitri came in, his dress was not feast-like. 
 Without care arranged, if arranged at all it was : 
 An every day dress, a worn-out last year's dress ; 
 Downcast was his glance, but haughty his step was ; 
 Like a starless night he came to his mother. 
 Then one gloomy glance on his mother he cast ; 
 Meeting her son's glance, she too became gloomy. 
 But quickly recov'ring and pleasantly smiling, 
 A step she took forward, gave her hand to the Prince, 
 And then met her son with a motherly kiss. 
 
 ' My Dmitri," she said " most welcome you are here. 
 
 ' In this castle with joy I see you my son, 
 
 ' Once more in the sphere you proudly inherit. 
 
 ' No more as once, a youth inexperienced, 
 
 * But accustomed to action, ready perchance, 
 ' A career to carve out, conquer a high place. 
 
 ' My son, long, very long, you have staid away — 
 
 ^ In what occupation, what place residing, 
 
 * Told me you have not, and I have not asked you ; 
 ' For this was my will, and so I decided. 
 
 ' But your own choice, and your proud nobility, 
 ' Have, my noble son, in honor's path kept you. 
 ' To this guide I leave you, only reserving, 
 ^ The right, dearest right, a mother can have, 
 
 * High hopes to form of a well-beloved son. 
 
68 NADESCHDA. 
 
 " And now, my Dimitri, I ask you, yet not I, 
 
 These dumb portraits speak, and through me, they ask you, 
 " In what occupation, what glorious field, 
 
 In honor's sphere youVe fastened your eager gaze." 
 
 Such was her greeting, and then her place taking, 
 
 With her finger to Dimitri, his place she points. 
 
 Passed a moment in silence, passed a minute, 
 And to answer her Dimitri oped not his lips, f 
 But he smiled ghost-like, not answering her question ; 
 Then the proud Princess took up the word again. 
 
 "My Dimitri will not answer, 'tis in silence 
 " He makes answer perhaps to those silent portraits. 
 " Well then, my proud boy, if a great bliss there is 
 " To one's self to keep, an answer becomes not. 
 " Look on that woman there, my most noble son, 
 "The fire of those black glowing eyes now observe, 
 " The forehead's bold arch, by straggling curls hidden ; 
 " Your ancestor she, born of a princely stock, 
 " Only of nobles born, of Georgian blood she. 
 " But one son she had, and from home he went forth, 
 " Like you — for a time was heard of with honor. 
 Like you — and at home sat his mother alone. 
 " To her came then a guest, whom she had known welly 
 " A friend long not seen, a noble born countess, 
 "Who had been struck by misfortune's sharp blow. 
 " With kindness she met, they in confidence talked; 
 " Many questions she asked, nowhere and now there. 
 " At last one day inquired the stranger guest, 
 " ' A son you once had, of glad hopes you were full 
 " ' Of his young promise — Where is he, what business, 
 " ^ Civil or warlike, keeps him so long away ? ' " 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 " Your ancestor spoke, answered her noble guest ; 
 
 * Since two long years now my eyes have not seen him. 
 " ' High was his aim, his father's house narrow, 
 " ' He his heritage took, an open world sought ; 
 " ' And now he fights on, but where, how, I know not.' 
 " Then of surprise full the other said to her, 
 " ' Do you only joke, or is it you're dreaming ? 
 " 'You a mother, with her feelings,' — her eyes glowed — 
 " ' You to his fate abandon your only son. 
 " * Impossible ! ' So she spoke. Erect and proud, 
 
 Uprose the Princess, and her friend's hand shaking, 
 ^' Uttered these words should ne'er be forgotten : 
 
 ' Be calm, oh, my friend ; one thing knows his mother, 
 ^' 'More need not be known, for this is above all, 
 " ' His father's blood burns pure as gold in his heart.' 
 ^' My Dimitri," she said, " thus our ancestor thought, 
 " And from her to me these thoughts have descended." 
 
 She stopped ; but Dimitri spoke up, and said boldly. 
 
 Here I am, mother, judge me here, you see me. 
 '' Say, yourself, is it in gladness or sorrow ? 
 
 Every kind of pretence, mere gilt I despise. 
 
 What you see on my outside, that is within." 
 
 A look, a sad look, but wistful and tender. 
 Upon her son's eyes his mother had fastened. 
 The portraits hung on the walls she then turned to, 
 And pointing towards one her dignified hand ; 
 ''When that bright star there," she said to Dimitri, 
 " From his first youthful outflight to his home came, 
 "With design he announced that he had come poor; 
 " But little he spoke, his eyes downcast like yours. 
 " Fallen his father in Peter's fierce battles 
 
70 NADESCHDA, 
 
 " With Sweden's wild lion ; his noble mother 
 
 " Then saw her home by fiends pillaged and wasted : 
 
 She sat in her hall a widow defenceless. 
 " Pultawa was fought, and then the land ringing 
 
 With victory's shouts, with joy and rejoicings, 
 " Came her son to her, but lonely and silent, 
 
 W^ith all that he owned, a pale cheek, he came home. 
 " Then to her son long not seen and not heard from, 
 " She sprang, but she stopped, and in dumb grief she mourned, 
 " That plundered he came to find his home plundered. 
 
 Thus a day passed, and then another day dawned, 
 " With joy 'mong the people ; from hill and from dale, 
 " She hears only glad shouts, ' The Tsar, the Tsar comes.' 
 
 But no more can she now, as in former times, 
 
 In her great castle, a rich, noble hostess, 
 " Fall at the Tsar's feet, beg of him the favour 
 " One day, as her guest, in her castle to stay. 
 
 Alone, unperceived, aside her place she took, 
 " Opened only one window, sadly gazed 
 
 On the roads, and wished her look might a blessing 
 
 On the fatherland's father bring as he passed. 
 " He comes, a hero victorious \ foaming 
 
 Horses they ride on, thundering carriages follovv^ 
 
 And now they draw near, glitter and vanish ? No. 
 " Dimitri, they stop at the gate of the castle. 
 
 A look of content, but soon overclouded, 
 ^' O'er the noble dame's face passed for a moment, 
 ''Yet, went she forth, glad her great monarch to greet, 
 " And with haste she went, to the vestibule Vvxnt. 
 ' ' What is this ? There stood the monarch already, 
 ' ' And, what a sight for the heart of a mother, 
 i« In the Tsar's arms is her son — kiss upon kiss 
 
I^ADESCHDA. 
 
 ^ He gives on his cheeks, his mouth, his uncovered brow. 
 ^ Dimitri, that young man, who had come home Hke you, 
 To his mother, so pale, dejected, was more 
 ' Than her fondest hope dreamed. Many battles he'd 
 ' Fought in, remarked was his valor — It was he 
 ' Pultawa had won — a sword of honour 
 ' He wore, was the Tsar's fav'rite, was general." 
 
 So spake she with warmth, and there shone a bright smile 
 
 On Iter face, softened, though proud and majestic. 
 
 Like stone Dmitri sat, a petrified image ; 
 
 Then sullen, perverse, he broke out into words : 
 ^ Now, stop," he said, mother j look not upon me 
 ' With that same searching, same happy glance 
 ^ That she cast upon him who basked in the Tsar's favor, 
 ^ On me, your pale, gloomy, and turbulent son. 
 ' Gladness to bring you I came not, for what you 
 ^ Gladly offer, Dim^itri seeks not, cares not for. 
 
 For myself I have come, for my own pleasure, 
 ' Which with your grief, mother, I mean to secure." 
 
 Then his low forehead he struck, and then added : 
 ^ Oh, that you'd brought me up, that the light of that star 
 ' You just now admired had attracted me too. 
 ^ A child in play happy, I had honor sought eager, 
 ' With my sword bought it, drained my life in the game. 
 ' But now other stars shine for Dimitri ; there shine 
 ^ Two stars, bewitching, deadly, and powerful. 
 ' They burn up my bosom, suck out my heart's blood ; 
 ' One of them is love, and revenge is the other." 
 
 He stopped, an answer awaiting, but yet mute 
 Sat the Princess — he saw this and again spoke. 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 His voice was the wave's voice, and storming he beat 
 On his strong breast like the wave on the shore : 
 " From my childhood the black sheep I was always, 
 " 'Twas always the other, always my brother. 
 
 Gay my brother I saw, and happy, while I 
 " Was wretched ; but to myself I did keep it. 
 Divided the land was ; to his own castle ^ 
 Went forth my brother, I followed, a stranger. | 
 " Well, a great happiness dawned there upon me ; 
 " This, too, was stolen, stolen by him away. 
 
 Then from the night sky vanished my only star, 
 " Then, 'twas but revenge that guided my footsteps, 
 **That led them in suffering hither to you. 
 "My mother, your son, joyous, fortunate son, 
 "Your joy, your beloved, your hope, and your fav'rite, 
 " With a slave girl he has wedded, your darling, 
 " A slave's low daughter, a life slave is his wife." 
 
 A great palor rose, and spread in a moment 
 
 O'er the quivering face of the proud Princess, 
 
 A flash passed, like lightning, of fire ancestral ; 
 
 But then came a change, and groaning she cried out — 
 
 " Oh, Dimitri, night born, if t o your dark revenge 
 
 " A brother's ill fate any pleasure can add, 
 Ere long his doom shall fall. Upon Russia's throne 
 
 " Sits one who will not a mother's tears overlook ; 
 
 " And my prayer she will hear, when with crossed breast 
 
 " Protection I seek, that our noble descent 
 
 " May not by a base-born slave be polluted. 
 
 " Late I had two sons, only one I have now ; 
 
 *'No other there is can with you rival more. 
 
NADESCHDA. 73 
 ' Alas ! oh, my son, sullen, unfortunate, 
 * One of your stars to the wished for goal leads you." 
 
 She spake, and she stopped, and a tear that she checked, 
 Welled from her moist eye, and rolled down her pale cheek, 
 She took in her hand the hand of her night-born, 
 And sighing she raised her voice, as if praying : 
 
 ' You are downcast, my Dmitri, my only son, 
 
 ' On you only rests now our noble descent. 
 
 ^ Then despair you not, above all desert not ; 
 
 ' Your other star name, name to me your love star 
 
 ' So beautiful, rich, high-born, and powerful, 
 
 ' Has our Russia no daughter whose noble hand 
 
 ' Your mother's son can denied be. The Empress 
 
 ' Will aid with her all powerful protection. 
 
 ' Only name her, speak out, who has your heart fettered ? " 
 
 She stopped ; but now his mother's beseeching hand 
 Dimitri took in his, and concealed not his love ; 
 
 ' My mother," he said, your Dimitri will promise 
 
 ^ Nevermore to despair, desert nevermore, 
 
 ' If to his desire, to his weeping bosom, 
 
 ' His brother's wife you bring, bring the young slave girl.'^ 
 
 Uprose the Princess, but she stood tottering, 
 
 Then walked with a slow step, majestical, mute. 
 
 Forth from the sacred hall of her ancestors. 
 
 But o'er her proud bearing there came a great change, 
 
 And she sank down without a word or a sigh 
 
 In front of the portraits all purple curtained. 
 
 And alone then stood Dmitri, and not a look 
 
 Deigned on him to fasten those most sacred few. 
 
74 
 
 NADESCHDA. 
 
 CANTO VII. 
 
 The silence lasted a long time between them. 
 Potemkin then threw himself on a sofa, 
 And his proud head he let sink on his hand, 
 And the young Prince waited, and he said nothing. 
 
 When Major General Kutusoff arrives, 
 Bring him in to me, here in my cabinet. 
 The others, Markoff, and Platoff the Cossack, 
 " Prince Woldmar Paulo vit ch and others, can wait." 
 So spoke Potemkin, as he threw himself down 
 To rest on a rich, purple-bound ottoman, 
 And the aid-de-camps, with many a low bow. 
 Watched the Crimean Victor's motions and looks. 
 
 On the brow of the Prince rested a dark cloud, 
 
 And of worry, disgust, fatigue spoke his eyes. 
 
 But very soon to a freshly served goblet^ 
 
 Of rose-coloured wine his white hand he stretched out. 
 
 And to his lips put the rich fragrant liquor. 
 
 So wearily passed some few heavy minutes, 
 When again the door opened, and Kutusoff 
 Then entered — his salute the Prince returned not. 
 But o'er his eyes placed his white hand, and he sat 
 A moment, and eyed the new comer sharply. 
 Then with a nod that scarce could be seen, he said : 
 My General, I gave orders to call you, 
 
 ''Wherefore you yourself know — the great Cesarinna 
 
 '' Saw with angry dissatisfaction to-day 
 
NADESCHDA. 75 
 
 " The morning's review ; a fault in manoeuvring, 
 
 Much easier to see than explain here, 
 ''An oversight, in a word a most careless 
 " Want of order in your own supervision ; 
 " Then say what must I think of your discipline ? " 
 
 He was silent — the young general spoke not, 
 But in his cheeks flushed the blood 
 
 That purple had run on Larga's, Kazul's, Siberia's shores ; 
 
 This noted the Prince, the opportunity seized — 
 " So you do not approve my very mild blame ; 
 '' You think perhaps you have committed no fault. 
 "Well, then, what sign was it a grenadier made, 
 " On your march past, to his comrade before him ? 
 " JKyes, as ordered, were they all on the chiefs fixed ? 
 '' Was the square closed ? And say, say now yourself, 
 " What sort of time did your seventh, regiment keep 
 " Just after they had made that very short halt7 
 '' Now answer, tell me. General Kutusoff, 
 " What led you to make these grievous mistakes ? " 
 
 Imperious the Prince spoke. The warrior bent 
 His head with respect, then spoke, and he answered : 
 '' Your Highness," so he said, '' had hurried a part 
 '' Of those troops that returned lately from Turkey, 
 " Recruits were the others but lately enrolled 
 " In place of those gathered in battles' harvests. 
 The young were not drilled to these evolutions — 
 The old had forgot in battles and marches 
 '' The time, perhaps, of these difficult movements." 
 So he spoke ; but then uprose the noble Prince, 
 With anger he rose : " This excuse give me not, 
 *' Ivan Ilarianovitsch, no such excuse ; 
 
76 NADESCHDA, 
 
 No — far deeper the cause lies ; for sometimes 
 
 A sense of our own importance comes o'er us ; 
 
 But where its home is that do we know well ; 
 " For fantastic, wild, Geneva-born doctrines 
 " Are spreading already throughout other lands — 
 ^' Even here their poison is spreading. We find 
 ^' Lukewarm attention to orders Imperial, 
 
 Deference to authority is more and more weakened ; 
 ^' To speak we permit ourselves of rights of man, 
 ^' AVhich is obedience to man's views, instead of 
 ^'To his Maker's. 
 
 One in himself sees a great central pivot, 
 ^* And turning on him the State's welfare's secure. 
 " Think of this — ^you are young and a General " — 
 
 And here a slight smile played on the Prince's lips — 
 
 Think of this when you think how nearly you've reached 
 ^' The greatness, greatness immortal, you've dreamed of, 
 " Of, perhaps, nothing less than one day to see 
 
 On your own shoulders Russia's fortunes to rest. 
 ^' Then how petty all this, a simple parade. 
 
 Mere paltry exercise, does it concern you, 
 
 You who now dream of such glorious triumphs I " 
 
 He ceased, and the young hero, indignant. 
 Restrained not his anger, but spoke, and he said : 
 My Prince, that which to my greatness contributes 
 Is the lot to have led to battle the land. 
 This is my greatness, I ne'er sought to increase it. 
 Among all my dreams, for I have dreamed sometimes. 
 Was to do this with honour, then offer to Russia 
 " The greatness she gave me with all my heart's love." 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 But more he said not, for with his raised finger 
 The Prince ordered silence, himself then began : 
 " You will manoeuvre your men ev'ry morning, 
 " Until your old troops have Turkey forgotten, 
 " And all the young soldiers their exercise learned. 
 *^ Kutusoff, never your service forgetting, 
 " Enforce you must discipline, strict regulations ; 
 " For people love not a soldier to see 
 " That thinks of aught else but his duty for hours. 
 " General, farewell ; a duty of great weight, 
 " Disagreeable duty, closely connected 
 With other signs of the times, now awaits me." 
 
 He had finished, and forth went the General, 
 And to his engagement then went Potemkin. 
 There stood near the door awaiting an audience 
 Officers many, some in hope, some in fear. 
 Soon as the prince saw them, he stayed his proud step. 
 And halted before them, and stood there awhile, 
 With stern eyes fixed on the silent crowd waiting, 
 Then raised his voice, in strong words speaking sharply 
 
 " I see here in daytime officers commanding, 
 
 " Of the fourth, fifth, of the seventh regiments, 
 And subalterns now are left with the soldiers. 
 
 " And Platoff you, Markoff" you, shortly you all 
 Will forfeit your swords. No answer I hear now, 
 Not a word in poor excuse is now uttered. 
 
 " 'Tis the namesday of the great Cesarinna 
 
 " Alone gives you grace. 
 
 " In what strange times do we live, when the soldiers 
 
 ' ' Are regarded as their master's companions, 
 
 " Because they may have campaigns made side by side, 
 
78 NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 He caresses, he spares, he overlooks all, 
 " Save only his scars — and then the same mildness 
 " He expects for himself. Markoff, see you here — 
 ^' The regiments you command, have they any right 
 "One single button even to leave off? 
 " And Platoff, this order worn on your bosom, 
 
 Do 3^ou not fear every hope to give up, 
 " On that vacant place other orders to see ? 
 "What a state ! Far more should a true soldier be 
 " Than a mere fighter, who knows no obedience. 
 
 You smile ! No grimaces, I tell you, and you, 
 " You who grin there with tipsy looks, you Kutofif, 
 " What do you laugh at? Perhaps that your picket 
 
 At this day's review so well kept the crowd back ! 
 " Oh Russia, Russia, all the soul in your strength 
 " Strict discipline is, is self-forgetfulness 
 " In your sons — then watch, and do not destroy them. 
 " Prince Woldmar Paulovitsch do you stay behind, 
 " You follow me : And you go, all the others, 
 " 'Tis the Czarinna's namesday pardons you all.'' 
 
 Then to his cabinet went back Potemkin, 
 
 And the young prince followed in silence his steps. 
 
 The silence lasted a long time between them. 
 
 Potemkin then threw himself on a sofa. 
 
 And his proud head he let sink on his hand, 
 
 While the young Woldmar awaiting kept silence. 
 
 So went by one minute and then another. 
 
 The Krim victor then spoke, he raised himself up, 
 
 And his sharp glances on Woldemar fixed : 
 
 " Of a scandal I hear, in spite of orders, 
 
 " On which, as on the only foundation, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 Rests the welfare of states, families, nations ; 
 " A scandal, I mean, in your own family, 
 " And therefore, in Russia, in dear fatherland. 
 " Is this a matter of which you know nothing ? " 
 
 The young man kept silence, the older went on; 
 ^' A youth from one of our great houses springing, 
 
 Led from the true path by this age's poison, 
 
 Fantastic doctrines of so-called rights of man, 
 
 Forgetting himself, and his duty as son, 
 
 Forgetting respect for all his forefathers, 
 " A misalliance has made. What a shame 
 
 His fortune to share with one not his equal ! 
 " You know. Prince, perhaps, the name of this young man. 
 
 Thus he spoke, but not awaiting an answer, 
 Began once again in a stern voice to speak : 
 
 " A young prince of noble born parents the hope, 
 ^' After his father's death inherits, receives. 
 
 One of his ancestral, rich endowed castles. 
 
 To his castle he comes, and he there fastens 
 
 His youthful eyes on a young serf, a slave girl. 
 ^' Fair cheek, full bosom ! Indeed, what a treasure. 
 
 To weigh in the scale 'gainst all other treasures. 
 '^'Tis not all, he takes her for his pleasure, 
 
 And he hides her, and where ? But this no one knows ; 
 
 And so he gives up two years to his passion. 
 
 It was thought on intoxication of bliss 
 
 Would follow satiety, and his excesses, 
 " Once abandoned, be forgotten, forgiven. 
 
 But no — for one day again to his castle 
 
 Came back this young prince^ who in the meantime 
 
So NADESCHDA^ 
 
 " Had higher rank won with worthy leaders ; 
 And he brings a mate for himself, brings a wife — 
 But whom ! oh, shameless effrontery, the slave girl ! 
 Thus far his guilt could not be made known^ 
 
 " Considerations of family prevented, 
 
 " And only a few trustworthy friends knew it. 
 
 " So some years quietly passed, while our young prince 
 Failing to wear his laurels with honor, 
 Filled his ancestral palace with bastards. 
 But his dishonor could no more be concealed ; 
 'Twas discovered; then comes hither his mother. 
 And the mother's heart is near broke by despair. 
 Woldmar Paulo vitsch, is the picture a true one ? 
 The composition admiration awakes ? 
 
 ^ ' You, too, are an artist, is it not lifelike ? " 
 A glance he gave, was silent. To his questions 
 For answers he waits, and in calm attention 
 His head he let sink again on his white hand. 
 
 But his restrained anger longer to keep in. 
 
 To ask the proud Woldmar would have been idle : 
 
 I once knew a prince, in inheritance he 
 
 ^ ' A castle received^ and with it a slave girl. 
 A slave girl ! Yes, she was that 'till his own eyes 
 In hers he saw — then no more a slave was she. 
 Not in her beautiful cheeks the red roses. 
 Not her bosom's full swell, no, these it was not, 
 My Prince," he said, " that gave to her freedom, 
 From a heart she received it, to a heart given. 
 And more than freedom she found, she found a horn 
 In a great house, one of Russia's most noble. 
 There lived and worshipped, and living with angels, 
 
 " Unfolded in beauty, that blooming flower, 
 
NADESCHDA. 
 
 And became of her former master the wife. 
 " He stands here, Prince, and awaits now his sentence." 
 
 He paused, and then took the mighty Potemkin, 
 
 With grave deUberation, time to reply : 
 
 The Czarinna is kind, a mother herself, 
 " She knows how to feel for all your mother's grief. 
 ''And she wishes to spare to her the deep shame 
 " For her daughter-in-law to greet a slave girl. 
 " This royal wish I can understand. Russia's 
 " Empire must now be held firmly together, 
 " By a strong band, for what is not thus fastened 
 '' Falls quickly to pieces, and is wholly wrecked. 
 '' Her will unto me she this moment announced ; 
 '' Prince Woldmar Paulo vitsch, your service calls you 
 '' To Tomsk,^' there requires your presence, attention, 
 " And your estate for a time is committed, 
 ''With the Czarinna's assent, to your mother. 
 "Your journey, it is prepared for already ; 
 "A carriage awaits you here, and 'tis in Tomsk, 
 " That you will await your final instructions. 
 
 " Farewell." 
 
 From Prince Woldmar's cheeks then fled the red bloody 
 And frozen he stood for a moment, then said : 
 '^ Yours is the power then finally said he, 
 " But I am a man, and make no entreaties. 
 " But one only could entreat for me, for herself, 
 "And she will be thrust where she cannot be heard. 
 " I besides her, Prince, know of but two others, 
 " Who perhaps would pray for me, but they are now 
 " But two tender babes, can scarcely say ' father.' 
 * In Siberia. G 
 
82 NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 " One question — 'tis the last, do I go hence to 
 " Be buried aUve, or permitted to see 
 In this world, my own dearly loved ones again 
 
 Then rose up the Prince, the noble Potemkin, 
 And taking his hand, " Prince Woldmar Paulo vitsch, 
 
 " I well knew your father, he stood by my side 
 In battle's stern strife, and for his sake will I, 
 
 " Of his arrogant son the punishment soften. 
 
 " An old rule I know, it is, ^ obey and wait,' 
 
 ^' This rule I give to you, no more, and farewell." 
 
 CANTO VIII. 
 
 And as thus by his fierce passion distraught, 
 He stood hesitating to show himself, 
 He sees the day fly, and then the calm night 
 Spread o'er the earth her great purple wings. 
 
 What is this din of loud and strange voices. 
 And what is all this tempest of wild mirth, 
 Heard on thy banks, oh, beautiful Moskva, 
 From Prince Woldmar's castle, hitherto tranquil ? 
 Does she mourn thus, his fair, youthful consort, 
 The lost bliss of her life, her flower-clad days. 
 The joy of her heart, that hath fled with her ? 
 Do not ask ; from the Volga came strangers. 
 From their own castle came turbulent slaves, 
 By Natalia Feodroffna were sent. 
 By the young Prince's imperious mother. 
 
 But expelled, unprotected Nadeschda 
 Has come to her childhood's cottage again 
 
NADESCHDA. 83 
 Of all gifts of fortune bereft she is 
 Save of two tender children. In flowers 
 Nature hath clad herself, since the winter 
 On her poor heart pressed his cold, heavy hand ; 
 And she hides her grief in the deep shadow 
 Of a leafy retreat, near to the brooklet, 
 Where once a girl of fifteen she sported, 
 Playing with laughter that greeted the dawn. 
 
 Near the brook she sat silent and feeble 
 
 On the green turf, and sunk in her dreaming ; 
 
 On her white hand her marble brow resting, 
 
 Until once again uproar still wilder, 
 
 Rang from the castle, through the wood echoed, 
 
 Then she awoke ^ glanced quickly, and listened. 
 
 But not of grief only spoke her mild eyes. 
 Of terror they spoke ; oft she starts in affright, 
 If in the woods the leaves of the linden, 
 By the breeze shaken, fall with a rustle. 
 She will fly, from that neighborhood fly forth. 
 So she thinks, but does not wish to disturb 
 The child in her arms, the tender Igor, 
 Who so far from this world, although of it, 
 Peacefully sleeps, pressed in his mother's arms ; 
 While in sport, on the brook's bank, his brother, 
 Chasing the butterflies, roams from, the stream. 
 
 So she watched and she tarried. What her fright 
 When came a message : ^' You know how to suffer 
 Without noisy grief; for comfort of others, 
 " To think not of your own ; oh, my princess, 
 You feel a sacred love for your cottage, 
 
 G 2 
 
84 NADESCHDA, 
 " And from it you would not gladly go forth ; 
 " But the fierce falcon pursues the poor dove, 
 ''Fly, your husband's brother, Dmitri, is here." 
 She rose then to go, but waited to say 
 Farewell to the place of dear memories full, 
 Sweet recollections of her past childhood. 
 
 Down sank the sun, the shadows grew longer ; 
 But a dark shade, than all others darker. 
 Appears now 'midst the trees, and approaches. 
 Dimitri it is — on his tender prey 
 Falls his hot glance already — victory beckons ; 
 After hard struggles, and feverish dreams, 
 After days tempest-tossed, nights without rest 
 He must succeed now, a moment — he draws 
 Near to her — What a wonder ! See his face 
 Change its color, see him hesitate, stop. 
 Moved by that noble, womanly face. 
 That fair form, how like, and yet how unlike, 
 That he once saw, so indelibly stamped 
 Deep on his heart, on his hot burning eyes ! 
 His slave girl he sought, as he once knew her. 
 Very sweet in her tears, very rose like ; 
 And he finds a mother, pale mother. 
 Already by early sorrow matured ; 
 On her brow, bearing the holy impress 
 Of lonely grief. But soft — see how he starts ! 
 Dark, gloomy powers contend in his heart, 
 He asks, shall he go, or shall he remain. 
 
 And as thus by his fierce passions distraught, 
 
 He stood hesitating to show himself, 
 
 He sees the day fly, and then the calm night 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 Spread o'er the earth her great purple wings. 
 And between ev'ry beat of his heart 
 He hears in the distance far voices speak : 
 " Dimitri, see approach Nature's calm hours, 
 " Of sleep, of rest, and of peace, gentle powers. 
 " E'en now in the sky with his low sweet note, 
 The bird calls his mate home, and the green trees 
 Whisper their sighing ' good night ' to the breeze ; 
 " And now the sun sinks, in his course heated, 
 " Coolness to find in the dew of his flower-bed. 
 " Dmitri, in peace are the earth and the heaven, 
 Wherefore then storms your heart without rest ? " 
 
 These words he heard, as in the fierce tempest 
 The sailor far voices hears from the shore. 
 A herdsman's horn hears its distant call sound. 
 Then he sighed, and then his eager looks sought 
 For signs of shame's stamp, that to a fresh storm 
 He might rouse himself, and then his pale lips 
 Their cruel meaning interpret too well. 
 
 *^ Dimitri, weak man, fear you not in evening's 
 
 *^ Sweet silence, of a woman defenceless, 
 To blanch the pale cheeks ? No wonder truly 
 
 " You rest undecided in victory's hour. 
 
 " Away ! On false paths you go. What is peace 
 But the short sleep of angry storms only ? 
 Now will you spare, forget and atone ? 
 
 *^ Peace is the lot of the grave, and of Heaven, 
 On the earth, Dmitri, brother hates brother." 
 
 When the voice ceased, he looked up, and his crime 
 In stern resolve ripened. Was it a chance ? 
 Was it purity's power protecting ? 
 
86 NÄDESCHDA, 
 
 Through the fluttering veil of Nadeschda 
 He sees her boy come, with gentleness kiss 
 From the pale cheek of his mother a tear. 
 And tenderly beg her not to weep more. 
 
 The brother-hater, by shudders convulsed, 
 Turned his face away, and lo, all time it 
 Had vanished^ and the dear image he sees 
 Of his own mother, who tottered but late. 
 He steals away in the shadows j he feels 
 His passion is gone, the game he gives up, 
 He longs in the shade to breathe undisturbed 
 For some minutes, and then conquest assured 
 O'er his heart's beatings, calmly to come back. 
 
 Short time he lingered nigh to the brooklet, 
 
 And then from the bank his wand'ring course took — 
 
 In the evening's deep calm no voices hears. 
 
 But to a meeting unsought, unexpected, 
 
 By an unlooked for accident hastens. 
 
 Far from his home, on a moss-covered rock, 
 Sat an old man, on his staff leaning hard ; 
 A statue he sat, chiselled from grey stone. 
 And his thoughts painted not only to day, 
 Or a few nights, but a journey till death, 
 In wandering passed. Only with great pain, 
 To the new comer he turned his dim eyes. 
 ^' A stranger, a neighbor — Brother," he said, 
 " You whose young face shines not out of shadow 
 " On a dead memory, have you seen here, 
 " The wife have you seen, of my noble Prince ? 
 " Most saintly, mild, of sad fate the victim. 
 
NADESCHDA. gy 
 
 " Long do I seek her, but she is vanished, 
 And my strength has failed, and gone is the day. 
 
 " Say, have you seen her ? Oh, lead me to her, 
 Lead me, an old man, broken-down, dying, 
 Whose heart in peace beats not in its last throbs." 
 
 So spake the old man ; Prince Dimitri knew. 
 His brother's trusted steward, Vladimir, 
 But with his hat o'er his forehead pressed down. 
 He raised his voice high, and to him he said : 
 '^Tell me, old man, have you too a burden, 
 " In a fierce passion, which embitters life, 
 " And makes death hard ? So your Prince's young wife 
 You seek here ! For what great crime, tell me, 
 At her feet fallen, would you beg pardon ? " 
 
 Then with the ebbing strength of his great age, 
 
 The old man raised himself for a moment : 
 
 Stranger," he said, "am I like a wild beast, 
 " Am I so changed you ask me this question ? 
 " Yet a stranger you are, and have not seen her. 
 
 Know not that only a tiger-like brut^ 
 " Such an angel could injure ; it is not 
 " The old man who has injured this angel. 
 " But such a thing, unknown and unheard of, 
 
 Ne'er I saw, ne'er heard of! My Prince's wife, 
 " I saw from his own castle ejected. 
 
 By his own mother's order ! Oh, stranger, 
 
 In silence, and with two little children, 
 " One in her right and one in her left hand, 
 " She went forth from abundance, from comfort, 
 
 To the poor hut of her old foster-father. 
 
88 NADESCHDA. 
 
 " No one sees her weep, and no one there is 
 *^ Hath heard her complain. To comfort others 
 ** She Hves. An angel she is, and exalted 
 Far above all of earth's joy or its woe. 
 Stranger, time passed, and approach she could not, 
 Her husband's mother, with warm earnest prayer, 
 Because that dark Dimitri, pursuing. 
 Watched for his prey. But, stranger, these sad eyes, 
 Wept for her then, and these two trembling lips 
 " Prayed for what she herself could not pray for. 
 Then burdened with sorrow took I my way 
 To my former lord's house on the Volga, 
 " To the house of Natalia Feodroffna. 
 Closed were the gates, but the old man, faithful 
 Slave still, lay all the day, all the night. 
 Under heaven's roof, beneath the stars' light. 
 The Princess to see ; patient he waited. 
 " At last she came — Like a brute in the dust. 
 At her feet he dropped, and he pled humbly. 
 For his lord's wife he asked mercy and grace. 
 And for his children. To answer my prayer, 
 The accursed slave whip she gave me. 
 Till I staggered off on my journey home. 
 " When I, so despised, so bruised and beaten, 
 " Had left my old home, then there was lighted, 
 " Blazed up in my breast the fierce flame of rage, 
 Deep curses I uttered, and vengeance I swore : 
 
 * Woe to you, woe, Natalia Feodroffna, 
 
 ^ Who in your pride rage against your own blood. 
 ' Alone without hope or joy may you live — 
 ' In gladness hear no grandchildren prattle, 
 
 * And when death comes, most ardently longed lor, 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 " ^ Be hired hands laid on your eyes to end all.' 
 
 " And I forgot not Dmitri, the brother, 
 
 " Dmitri, on whose head there rests a great crime. 
 
 " And I cried (you shudder hate's curse to hear), 
 
 '•'Double, double woe, Dimitri, to you, 
 
 " * You, whose black envy so fiercely blazed up ; 
 
 '* 'Water-plants, fruitless, may ever remain, 
 
 " ' The blessings I often called down on your head, 
 
 " ' When long ago, in the days of your childhood, 
 
 '' ' In my fond arms a child guileless you lay. 
 
 '' ' Homeless, peaceless, and hopeless may your heart, 
 
 " ' The fangs of the serpent gnaw ! May you miss 
 
 " ' The goal you would reach, and may the lost goal 
 
 '' ' Hurl you with broken strength back again ! ' 
 
 " So I cursed. I have hated, oh, brother, 
 
 " And hate is a sin which lies very heavy 
 
 " On me now, for I would fain die in peace." 
 
 Stood Dmitri awe-struck. The old man went on : 
 " Brother, of life perhaps you know only 
 " That which is pleasant, but should your lot change, 
 " Should grief, the poison of hate, become yours, 
 " Then go seek for her I vainly seek now; 
 " She stills many storms, and many griefs calms, 
 " And often poor sufPrers on her calm breast, 
 " Lay down the load of a sin-burdened soul. 
 '' And even I yet, at her feet lying, 
 " May learn to forget and learn to forgive, 
 
 That in heaven's peace I may fall asleep." 
 
 He ceased, and a silence 
 Deep as the grave, then lasted some minutes. 
 Then Dmitri stepped forward, the old man's hand 
 
90 ÅUJDESCBDA. 
 
 Took in his. " Follow me/' he said to him, 
 " For I will lead you, will show you the way. 
 " When you find whom you seek, carry to her 
 " From a poor weary mortal this greeting, 
 
 Say, on this brook, midst these blooming flowers, 
 ^' From Dmitri's hand fell the falcon whose rage 
 
 Would have borne off his own brother's poor dove. 
 " And when at the name of Dmitri she shudders, 
 *^ Say, ' Lady ! Dimitri's power is gone, 
 
 ' 'Tis only with pain here he has led me ; 
 " ^ Peaceless himself, he has led me to peace.' " 
 
 Thus he spoke. To the side of Nadeschda 
 In silence he led the old man — -then fled 
 Like a shadow into the dark forest. 
 And so disappeared to fortunes unknown. 
 
 CANTO IX. 
 
 Oh, what happiness is it when one can do all, 
 " And all that is wanting provide ! 
 " In peace and in joy live as in a small garden, 
 " Plan as the hearths wish may dictate." 
 
 Catherine, Russia's mother, the great Cesarinna, 
 
 Had come to the Volga's proud hall ; 
 She came with her suite to Natalia Feodroffna, 
 
 And stopped to give rest to them all. 
 And when morning came, the summer's sun shone out bright, 
 
 O'er the meadows, over the streams. 
 And the great monarch stood in the large open window, 
 
 And basked in his warm summer beams. 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 In her place by her side, the proud hostess stood, 
 
 To her in the window there mount, 
 Potemkin, Krim-victor, and the old sailor, too, 
 
 Bestucheff, Admiral Count. 
 
 Reigned silence awhile, till the great Cesarinna, 
 Lifts her hand and points to the wold \ 
 "What a fair sight, what a picture, pleasant, and real, 
 
 " Those maples a century old ! 
 " Happy the people in those cottages brought up, 
 
 " Which contrast with the green leaves well, 
 "Shining bright in their colors of red, white and blue, 
 
 " Close neighbours these peasants must dwell. 
 " Thanks, Natalia Feodroffna, a mother you are, 
 " For my children on Volga's strand." 
 So she spake, and to the Princess most graciously, 
 She held out her sovereign hand. 
 
 The castle's dame bent low, and most humbly she kissed, 
 That sovereign hand, and replied : 
 " Oh, my dear Cesarinna, easy my task is, 
 " For the good of my serfs," she cried. 
 " Easy too is the life of the serf, and his toil 
 
 " Is not hard, for a sun's warm rays, 
 "Which are ever at work, send down here on the earth, 
 " Their fruit-giving, warm summer days." 
 
 Thus she spoke : The Czarinna benignantly smiled, 
 And again she graciously said : 
 " Often, very often, I have thought of your luck, 
 
 " Of a small realm you are the head ; 
 " A narrower sphere, where a wakeful eye only, 
 " Is needed to watch and to guide. 
 
92 NADESCHDA. 
 
 Oh, what happiness is it when one can do all, 
 "And all that is needed provide ; 
 " In peace and in joy live, as in a small garden, 
 
 " Plan as the heart's wish may dictate. 
 " Potemkin, say, you who give counsel abundant. 
 
 Tell me now, shall Catherine take, 
 " Here her abode, and strive only her great Russia, 
 Fertile as this rich strand to make 
 
 So spake the monarch ; to her question, Potemkin 
 
 Bent down his head ere he spoke. 
 Then raised his eyes to the Cesarinna again. 
 And said, half in earnest, half joke — 
 " I know of one object only, only one end, 
 " On it all our aims should be bent. 
 The dear Cesarinna's precious life to prolong, 
 " In health and prosperity spent." 
 
 So spoke Prince Potemkin, and she smiled at his words, 
 
 But only a moment she smiled. 
 Then once more became earnest, her laughter was gone, 
 
 And she heaved a sigh and replied — 
 " I am but a woman, but a woman's my strength is, 
 " And 'tis a man's hand that we need. 
 This great realm to govern, wide, wealthy, and boundless. 
 And to her high place Russia lead. ^ 
 " With the loss of my life could I only bring back, 
 
 Great Peter, you, from your bier ! 
 " Say, Count Bestucheff, you his companion life-long. 
 
 From his great times left to us here, 
 " Would you willingly be in death my companion, 
 " For an object so worthy, so dear ? " 
 
NÄDESCHDA, 93 
 
 Thus she spake, and from the old eyes of the warrior, 
 O'er his cheeks rolled fast the tears hot ; 
 " Oh, great Cesarinna, this old winter-crowned head, 
 
 To lose I would hesitate not, 
 " But a minute to gain of the Great Peter's life. 
 
 " But he would come forth were it best, 
 " Would say, * Daughter, great daughter, yours is the sceptre, 
 
 " ^ I have laboured, now I would rest. 
 " ' But more than you, daughter, I never loved Russia, 
 " ' And in that love was my strength blessed.' " 
 
 Catherine, Russia's mother, the great Cesarinna, 
 
 Then turned, in her eyes a glad glance, 
 And she said, " Very happy am I this morning, 
 
 I would others' welfare enhance. 
 Prince Potemkin, do you the carriages order, 
 " I would for a drive gladly go ; 
 ''See the outside of those cots, the inside, perhaps, 
 "That stand there so close in a row." 
 She said ; but the Princess in great trepidation. 
 
 Came forward, and quickly replies : 
 Oh, my dear Cesarinna, over those meadows, 
 Only paths, no carriage road lies. 
 "Without roads, you cannot in your carriages go there 
 " To go there on foot were not wise." 
 The Cesarinna looked kindly on her, and said, 
 " In the paths no hindrance I see. 
 " When, as now, all nature is smiHng and happy, 
 
 " Over and under and round me, 
 " Oft gladly I walk, and long distances wander, 
 
 " To those cots short must the way be. 
 " Come, then, come." 
 
94 NÄDESCHDA. 
 
 Then at her feet the Princess fell down, 
 
 At her feet fell down on her knees, 
 Choose other pleasures,, oh, my dear Cesarinna, 
 " The haze will disperse with the breeze ; 
 The air may turn cool, by your walk you'll be heated, 
 
 May perhaps be caught in the rain ; 
 To you millions look up, with me they beseech you, 
 " Oh, let us not pray you in vain." 
 
 Now silence, Natalia, and no more words I pray," 
 
 Said the Empress, impatient seemed, 
 ^* This warm air, flower-scented, and then this blue heaven, 
 
 Of these I've in Petersburg dreamed. 
 ■^^ Then up my companions, then my gentlemen up. 
 
 Our hostess best guide^ I have deemed." 
 
 So she spake, to start she was instantly ready. 
 
 And the Princess dared nought to say ; 
 Potemkin came too, and the old Count Bestucheff, 
 
 To the cots they went on their way. 
 
 From the court near the castle there led narrow paths, 
 
 O'er the plain where the rich grain stood ; 
 Beyond lay a hill, from the eyes of the walkers. 
 
 Concealing the cots and the wood. 
 When the great Cesarinna had mounted this hill, 
 
 The village she came out to see. 
 Was made not of wood, but of painted cloth only. 
 
 As if on the stage it might be. 
 Then she went to look at it, and then went behind. 
 
 Saw only mean hovels built there, 
 Like the dens of wild beasts, dark, dirty and gloomy. 
 
 They were built without light or air. 
 
NÄDESCHDA. 95 
 
 With control she restrained anger's flash in her eyes, 
 
 And its words that burned on her tongue. 
 To the pale, silent Princess she turned herself round, 
 
 And sharply her cutting words rung — 
 Whoever has painted those magnificent cots, 
 
 Has meant they be seen from before ; 
 But for our Court theatre he must be engaged, 
 
 His loss I would greatly deplore. 
 But Princess, pray say, who inhabit these cots, 
 " Which your artist's great skill has made ? 
 For I am surprised not to see the gay people 
 ^^From the castle we saw," she said. 
 ^' Is it your wont always to banish your people^ 
 
 When a Princess to come you have bade ?" 
 
 In these words she spake. The Princess would have answered. 
 
 The Empress for this would not stay ; 
 Gave her arm to Potemkin, and then turning round, 
 
 Began her walk back the same way. 
 
 As they went there passed in deep silence some minutes, 
 
 But few minutes lasted her wrath ; 
 For as they went on^ in full flower a rose bush, 
 
 The Czarina saw in her path. 
 Count Bestucheff," she said^ will you pluck me a rose ? 
 " For no flower your lady hath." 
 
 Then hurriedly ran to the rose-bush the Princess, 
 
 To pluck but the loveliest, goes : 
 But the old warrior, he followed her slowly, 
 
 And plucked without choosing, his rose. 
 
 Thereon the Czarina took both offered roses^ 
 Took them both with most gracious smiles. 
 
96 NADESCHDA. 
 
 But the Princess' rose she gave to Potemkin, 
 And keeping Bestucheff's, repUes : 
 My hostess," she said, " You will excuse me, I know, 
 
 That I give the rose comes from you, 
 But flowers I love, and I give to friends gladly, 
 What oft I accept from them too. 
 " Where no real value is, what you give should be perfect, 
 Wherein spot or stain never grew." 
 
 Again there fell silence, to the castle they came, 
 
 Found there in the Court, as in fete, 
 A great crowd of people in their fete day attire. 
 
 By the Princess' command they wait. 
 On both sides of the road, a great crowd of her people, 
 
 Pale, feeble, and broken down all, 
 Bent their knees in the dust, and strewed lovely flowers 
 
 In front, as they came to the hall. 
 To the right looked the monarch, then looked to the left, 
 
 She looked on the old and the young, 
 In the midst of the crowd at length she stopped short, 
 And with mien full of pity begun : 
 My Princess, here will I stop, some few minutes pass, 
 " Of my visit here as your guest ; 
 ^' My interpreter be, and ask of your people, 
 " What they need, what gift would like best ? " 
 
 The command heard the Princess, she raised up her voice, 
 To her people aloud did call ; 
 Oh, my people, in all my great care for your wants, 
 " Perhaps I knew not of them all. 
 "These wants to make known now to you is permitted, 
 " And what you want state, great or small." 
 
NäDESCHDA, 97 
 No one a wish expressed, for no one was ready, 
 
 To come forth, his wish to proclaim ; 
 On their knees, and in silence, they waited, each one 
 
 Looked round, half in doubt, half in shame. 
 
 But at length from the crowd came forth an old man, 
 
 A hundred years old, without sight. 
 Bright shone his bald head, and down to his girdle 
 
 Floated his long beard, silver white. 
 To the Princess he went, with the sad solemn voice, 
 
 Of near death, he said with a sigh, 
 " Lady, these flowers do not feed, do not nourish, 
 
 Give your serfs bread or they die." 
 
 Dumb with surprise then stood the Princess, but the great 
 Cesarinna had heard the prayer : 
 " Let this veteran, of Great Peter's time relic, 
 
 " Bestucheff, be ever your care ; 
 " And you. Prince Potemkin, you will see what he asks, 
 
 " Be granted to all who stand there." 
 
 Thus she spake — then to the castle's gate she went back. 
 
 There somewhat apart from the rest, 
 A fair woman stood — her pale cheeks told the deep grief, 
 
 Her young noble features expressed ; 
 She held by the hand two little children, two boys, 
 
 Tender flowers to her very dear ; 
 And in her dark eyes, by the heart's light lighted up, 
 
 A mute prayer spoke in a tear. 
 
 Russia's mother with pity saw the poor woman, 
 
 Admiringly looked, as she passed j 
 Then she stopped, waiting, and a look on her hostess 
 
 A look searching, inquiring cast. 
 
 H 
 
98 NÄDESCHDA, 
 
 The Princess saw the look, then she turned and she said, 
 And she spoke very gently there ; 
 " Say, stranger, for till now I never have seen you, 
 
 " Does your sad heart hide a prayer ? 
 " Your pale, beautiful cheeks, say what do they ask for, 
 
 " The Empress is kind everywhere ?" 
 
 Thus spoke the Princess ; then her gentle voice trembling, 
 The unknown replied, and spoke out, 
 " Oh, Princess, 'tis to give, and it is not to beg, 
 
 " This woman comes here with no doubt. 
 " Through you has life given to an humble slave girl, 
 
 " Some very few, sweet happy days, 
 " And all that she has now, her two sons she gives you, 
 
 " At your feet her return she lays. 
 " Oh, my husband's mother, in your grandchildren see, 
 
 " And take back your own noble race. 
 " I am poor, I am helpless, and a mother rejected, 
 
 " Cannot rear princely boys in their place." 
 
 So spoke Nadeschda ; but with scarce concealed anger 
 The Princess at once spoke again, 
 " Hear her not Cesarinna, believe not her words, 
 
 " A noble race let her not stain 3 
 " Bold with the fruits of her shameless, unlawful love, 
 
 " A brazen impostor she came." 
 
 Catherine, Russia's mother, the great Cesarinna, 
 Heard her, and with self restraint clear, 
 " My Princess," she said, " with great surprise, with great pain, 
 
 " Have I witnessed your conduct here. 
 " Squalid your peoples' huts, your serfs hunger-stamped ghosts, 
 " While you shine in splendour the while, 
 
NADESCHDA, 
 
 " And on this woman, beautiful, noble, and pure, 
 " Troubles, only troubles you pile.'' 
 
 So she spake — her eyes she dropped on Nadeschda, 
 
 With a light-like a star's they fall, 
 And to her said gently, " This rich mother's gift, 
 Will not be rejected by all. 
 " Will you give to Catherine, to your Cesarinna, 
 " These boys I would mine gladly call ? " 
 
 At that kindly question, Nadeschda wept outright, 
 Her sweet voice was choked by her tears ; 
 
 But then with her hands on her two innocents placed, 
 First on one, then both of her dears, 
 
 She made both to kneel down before the Czarinna, 
 For her love was too great for her fears. 
 
 Receiving the mother's gift, a mother herself, 
 
 The monarch bent down her proud head, 
 And gently caressed the hair of the children, 
 Then turned to the giver, and said : 
 " No gift Catherine takes without making return, 
 
 " To pay back is ever her way j 
 " Therefore, god-daughter, your request you'll name to her, 
 " That all of her debt she may pay." 
 
 In Nadeschda's brown eyes there glistened then glad tears. 
 
 And o'er her pale cheeks fast they flow, 
 And with her hands clasped tight before the Czarinna, 
 
 She said, on her knees, bending low, 
 If to me there is granted a boon, a dear prayer, 
 " Give to me then, Czarinna dear, 
 " Give to these longing eyes, to stay in these vacant arms, 
 " Give only my sons' father here." 
 
 H2 
 
loo NADESCHDA. 
 
 The Czarinna's glance was the glance of the summer's day, 
 
 And to her she said, " For much, all — 
 You have asked for a prince in years, honor, mature, 
 " For two boys yet tender and small. 
 " My Princess, if your wish I should now grant to you, 
 
 " You, too, greater gift must impart, 
 " You must give yourself too freely to Catherine, 
 " With all of your warm-loving heart." 
 Thus she spake, and without an answer awaiting, 
 To Nadeschda she held out both hands. 
 
 The castle's proud hostess then stood there dumb-founded, 
 
 Prince Potemkin, the Count, said naught. 
 But from the great crowd of the serf people arose. 
 
 Glad cries as they stood in the court. 
 Catherine, Russia's mother, the great Cesarinna, 
 To her nobles turned, who stood near, 
 " My lords, for my journey, you'll give at once orders ; 
 
 " Since my suite has grown so here, 
 " Further, to-day we will not trouble our hostess, 
 " And I long for my Moscow dear." 
 
FINLAND. 
 
 THE popular opinion of the Finns, entertained by nine- 
 tenths of the people of the United States, is that they 
 are pretty much like the Lapps, that is to say, that they live in 
 huts, dress in skins, and live principally upon reindeer milk 
 and black bread. How far this opinion is borne out by the 
 facts, the following pages will show. 
 
 Finland — derived from fen^ it being a country of lakes and 
 marshes — extends from 60° to 70° North latitude, and from 
 38° to 50° East longitude. When we consider that the parallel 
 of 60° North — the latitude of St. Petersburg — touches Cape 
 Farewell in Greenland, and crosses the northern part of 
 Labrador on our own continent, we get some idea of how far 
 North Finland lies. The country is nearly as large as France, 
 but it contains only 2,000,000 inhabitants, or about half as 
 many as the City of London. There are only seven inhabi- 
 tants to the square mile. No danger of over-population here ! 
 And, as may be supposed, the air unaffected by the presence 
 of man and beast in large numbers, is singularly pure and 
 healthy. The country is covered with lakes. Including the 
 swamps and marshes, they occupy 3 2 per cent, of the surface, 
 and are almost as thickly set as in our own Adirondacks. As 
 the St. Lawrence is the "River of a Thousand Isles," Finland is 
 poetically known as the " Land of a Thousand Lakes." 
 
 And what is not water is mostly forest, for the cleared land 
 amounts to only 4 per cent, of the whole surface. The lakes 
 teem with fish, and the forests are filled with game. Salmon, 
 
I02 ' FINLAND. 
 
 trout, and grayling abound, and yield fine sport to the fisher- 
 man, and supply a most important staple of food to the people. 
 The fiords, or coast lakes, as they may be called, which are 
 numerous and very beautiful, swarm with herring, giving 
 employment to a large number of fishermen, and furnishing an 
 important article of exportation. The forests abound in hares, 
 ptarmigan, partridges, coqs-du-bois, etc., and woodcock, and 
 snipe, are found in their season. Unfortunately, they abound, 
 too, in noxious animals, bears, lynxes, foxes, and, worst of all, 
 wolves. The number of domestic animals killed by these 
 pests, is very serious for a poor people like the Finns. It is 
 estimated that every year 350 horses, 1,100 cattle, 3,000 sheep 
 and goats, 3,000 hogs, and 500 reindeer, are killed by wild 
 animals, causing a loss of at least ^125,000 per annum, and 
 falling generally upon those of the inhabitants who can least 
 afford it. The number of beasts of prey in Finland may be 
 judged from the fact that 80 bears, 350 wolves, and 2,500 
 foxes are killed every year, and that there is apparently no 
 diminution in their number. Game and fish do not diminish, 
 perhaps rather increase, for the number of sportsmen is not 
 great, and the game laws are judicious and well enforced. 
 
 The scenery of Finland is pretty but not grand, for there 
 are no mountains to be seen till you reach the far north, and 
 then there are but one or two of 4,000 feet. In what may be 
 called the inhabitable part of Finland, they do not attain more 
 than 750 feet. But the chain of lakes, of which Saima is the 
 chief, lies about 250 feet above the level of the sea. The 
 canal which connects it with the Gulf of Finland is built with 
 28 locks, in order to meet this difficulty, and the river Vuoksa, 
 which connects Lake Saima with Lake Ladoga, and so by the 
 Neva with the Gulf of Finland, is a series of cataracts and 
 rapids. At Imatra it takes its principal shoot, descending 60 
 
FINLAND. 103 
 
 feet in half a mile. A hotel has been built at the most beauti- 
 ful spot on the rapids, and in summer the Russians, and especi- 
 ally the Petersburgers, come here in large numbers to pass a 
 few days, for it is the only bit of striking scenery within 
 hundreds of miles of St. Petersburg. 
 
 Lake Saima is about 40 miles long and twenty broad, and is 
 but one of a series affording an internal navigation of several 
 hundred miles. Its shores are very thinly populated, and are 
 covered almost entirely by the primeval forest. Here and 
 there one sees a clearing, looking about as large as a pocket 
 handkerchief, and at great distances apart lie hamlets of 50 to 
 ICQ inhabitants. The Finns are a church-going people, and 
 in summer it is a pretty sight to see them crossing the lakes in 
 their large barges, the women rowing and the men lying lazily 
 in the stern, smoking. The contrast of the women's high- 
 coloured dresses with the dark green of the forest is pleasing. 
 They generally sing as they row, and the effect of their voices 
 heard over the water is charming. 
 
 Small steamers ply upon the canal and upon the lakes. 
 There is no room on them to walk about, but this is no hard- 
 ship to the Finns and Russians, for they are not much given to 
 walking under any circumstances. The other means of con- 
 veyance is by posting, for except the railroad running along 
 the north shore of the Gulf of Finland from St. Petersburg to 
 Abo, there is at present no rail to speak of in Finland, and no 
 stages or diligences. But the posting is not uncomfortable, 
 and is very cheap. The main roads are excellent, infinitely 
 better than in Russia. Each farmer is bound by law to furnish 
 a certain number of horses and drivers per annum. The 
 horses are tough, wiry, little fellows, rather poor to look at, 
 but very good ones to go. They may be said to live on 
 nothing and find themselves. During a large part of the year 
 
I04 FINLAND. 
 
 they browse, and this and a very little hay, and a handful of 
 barley, constitute the food on which they do hard work. If 
 you need but one, or at most two horses, you will almost 
 always find them ready for you at the post-station, but if you 
 are a large party and want seven or eight, you may be detained 
 an hour, for the horses are probably browsing in the woods, 
 with bells on their necks to keep away the wolves. The carts 
 are very rough, and generally without springs, and the only 
 comfortable way of travelling is to hire or buy a caleche. The 
 expense of posting is very reasonable, three cents for each 
 horse a mile, and ten cents to the driver for each stage. The 
 stages are about ten miles each, and the plucky little horses do 
 them in a hour. 
 
 Finland was not known to the ancients. Very early in the 
 Christian era, one of those vast Asiastic hordes that overran 
 Europe, and finally destroyed the Roman Empire, starting 
 from the foot of the Ural Mountains, passed through Southern 
 Russia, settled in what is now Bulgaria and Hungary, and 
 came north as far as the Baltic Provinces. In the seventh 
 century, these tribes quarrelled among themselves, and the 
 Finns, driven out by the Bulgarians, made their way across 
 Russia to Finland. Here they encountered the original inhabi- 
 tants of the country, believed to have been what are now 
 known as the Lapps, and after severe fighting drove them out 
 in turn. The Lapps took refuge in the extreme north. The 
 Finns consisted of two tribes — the Tavestiens and the Care- 
 liens. The former settled in the west, and the latter in the 
 east of Finland. There they engaged in agriculture, commerce, 
 and navigation. They manufactured iron in a rude way, and 
 Finnish swords, made of Finnish iron, had a great reputation in 
 Sweden and Denmark, and other warlike countries. The 
 people were at that time Pagans, and worshipped the forces of 
 
FINLAND, 105 
 
 nature. In the 12th century, and at the instigation of the then 
 Pope, EricIX., King of Sweden, undertook to introduce Chris- 
 tianity into Finland. He landed on the west coast with a 
 powerful army, accompanied by St. Henry, an Englishman, 
 and first Bishop of Finland, who was subsequently martyred 
 in that country. The Finns defended themselves well, but 
 were finally subdued by the superior arms and discipline of the 
 Swedes. These crusades, as they may be called, lasted for 
 two centuries, from iioo to 1300, for whenever Sweden was 
 engaged in a foreign war the Finns attempted to regain their 
 liberty. Finally, Christianity was definitively introduced, and the 
 power of Sweden established. And now the Swedes showed a 
 wisdom and gentleness in governing the country utterly 
 unknown in those days, and rarely enough imitated in these. 
 They applied the same laws to Finland as to themselves, they 
 established native courts of justice, and, not least, gave the 
 Finns representation in the Swedish Diet. Under so wise a 
 rule the country prospered ; but, unfortunately, it was the 
 natural battle-ground for the Russians and Swedes whenever 
 they were at war, which was not unfrequently. The Russians 
 always attacked the Swedes in Finland, for it was in this way 
 only they could reach them, Sweden being mistress of the sea. 
 Then when Denmark was at war with Sweden, as so often 
 happened in those fighting days, her first care was to stir up 
 the Russians to attack the Finns. And so the struggle con- 
 tinued for centuries, and with varying success, the Swedes 
 compelled at times to surrender a portion of their territory, 
 and then recovering it again, until the time of Peter the Great, 
 That great monarch, having founded St. Petersburg in 1703, 
 was determined to have no hostile neighbor, and so attacked 
 and defeate d the Finns, and annexed that part of Finland to 
 Russia which was immediately to the north and west of his 
 
io6 FINLAND. 
 
 new city. Matters remained in this condition until the time 
 of the First Napoleon. The King of Sweden detested that 
 Emperor, and when Alexander I. made a treaty of alliance 
 with him, Gustavus IV. declared war against Russia. The 
 war was, of course, unfortunate, for the parties were most 
 unequally matched. Alexander conquered Finland in 1808, and 
 the country was finally ceded to him by Sweden. The Finns 
 have always maintained that but for the treason of Admiral 
 Cronstadt they would have held their own. He occupied the 
 strong fortress of Sveaborg, at Helsingfors, with 1,500 men, some 
 armed vessels, and an abundance of provisions and muni- 
 tions of war. He made an agreement with the Russian com- 
 mander that unless he was relieved by a certain day, he would 
 surrender. No relief came, and he surrendered. 
 
 Alexander behaved towards the conquered with his usual 
 generosity. He convoked the Diet in 1809, and promised to 
 respect the religion, the laws and the privileges of Finland, 
 He made himself Grand Duke of Finland, and took the oath 
 of fidelity as such. He created a 'senate, and appointed a 
 Governor General. Nicholas confirmed the acts of Alexander, 
 and the present Emperor has done the same. Finland 
 occupies rather an enviable position ; she is substantially 
 independent, with her own laws, money, custom house and 
 legislature, and with no expenses for defence. Russia builds 
 her forts, and supplies her army and navy. She is defended 
 by the whole power of Russia, and pays nothing for it.^ 
 
 An immense majority of the Finns are Lutherans. In the early 
 days of their history they were, as I have said. Pagans, and 
 worshipped the powers of Nature : Ukko, God of the Air and 
 of Thunder, Tapio, God of the Forests, Ahti, of the Lakes 
 
 * Since this was written Finland has agreed to furnish a contingent 
 of 5,000 men to the Russian Army. 
 
FINLAND, 107 
 
 and Streams, and Tuoni, the Pluto of the ancients. Upon 
 their conquest by the Swedes they became Catholics. A fine 
 cathedral was built at Abo in 1300, and six or seven convents 
 were scattered through the land, wherever the population was 
 greatest. In 1527 Gustavus Vasa introduced the Reformation, 
 and confiscated the lands of the convents, for by this time, as 
 in England, and Scotland, and elsewhere, the monks had got 
 possession of a large portion of the best lands, and paid no 
 taxes on them. The Reformation spread rapidly, and I know 
 of no instance, not even in Scotland, in which it has so com- 
 pletely driven out Catholicism. Of the 2,000,000 inhabitants, 
 less than 1,000 are Catholics ; about 10,000 (mostly Russians) 
 belong to the Greek Church ; there are a few hundred Jews 
 and Mohammedans, and the remainder of the population, more 
 the ninety-eight per cent, are Lutherans. They have an arch- 
 bishop, two bishops, and nine hundred clergy. 
 
 The general superintendence of education is confided to the 
 clergy. No child can come to the communion, or man and 
 woman be married, until they can recite certain of the principal 
 tenets of Christianity, and those can scarcely be learned with- 
 out reading. The first principles of education are given in the 
 family, under the superintendence of the pastor. Then come 
 the ambulant schools, going from place to place, and spending 
 a few weeks in each. Next in order are the primary schools, 
 in which are taught grammar, reading, writing, and arithmetic, 
 the first elements of geometry, drawing, singing, and needle- 
 work to the girls. In the next class of schools they add 
 history, geography, and the natural sciences. These schools 
 are kept up principally at the expense of the State. Each 
 commune must supply schools enough for all the uninstructed 
 children from seven to fourteen years of age. The State 
 allows 120 dols. a year for an instructor and 80 dols. for an 
 
io8 FINLAND. 
 
 instructress, and the commune must furnish a suitable lodging, 
 four or five acres of cleared land, and pasture and fodder for a 
 cow. The present law has been in force since 1858 only. 
 The number of schools has increased very rapidly in this time, 
 but they are not yet as numerous as they should be. It must not 
 be forgotten, however, that every young child is taught in the 
 family to read and write, under the direction of the clergy. 
 
 Passing over the lyceums, industrial schools, and schools for 
 young girls, established by the State, and which employ about 
 500 teachers, and educate about 5,000 pupils, we come to the 
 University. This great institution was founded at Abo in 
 1640. In 1825 the buildings were partially burned, and it was 
 then transferred to Helsingfors. It has very nearly one 
 thousand students. It has thirty professors, and eighteen 
 assistant professors. There are four professors of theology, 
 five of law, eight of medicine, fourteen of philosophy in its 
 various branches, and seven in the physical and mathematical 
 sciences. It has a fine library of 80,000 volumes, and a 
 valuable and interesting museum, very rich in specimens of 
 zoology and minerals. 
 
 Helsingfors is a picturesque and charming little town of 
 about 35,000 inhabitants. Its harbor is a good one, and is 
 protected by the great fortress of Sveaborg, where General 
 Todleben has lately displayed his engineering skill in the con- 
 struction of immense batteries, low, and armed with very heavy 
 artillery. A large Russian force is kept in this fortress. The 
 town is built in the hollow and on the hillsides. It has two 
 very striking churches, the old Lutheran and the new Greek 
 Church. There are first-class hotels and good restaurants. A 
 short distance from the town are summer gardens, where there 
 is a restaurant with French cooking and French wines. A 
 band of music plays in the summer afternoons, and the people 
 
FINLAND. 109 
 
 resort there to dine, or sup, or walk through the beautiful park, 
 or stroll along the shore of the Gulf, or to listen to the music. 
 Very many of them speak English, and more French. They 
 have considerable commerce with Sweden, Germany, England, 
 and the United States ; and they like Americans, and admire 
 our institutions. It is difficult to find a more highly civilized, 
 cultivated, and agreeable society than exists at Helsingfors. 
 
 Besides the University, there are various learned societies, 
 " The Finnish Society of Literature," " The Finnish Society of 
 Sciences," of " History," of Archaeology " and of " The Beaux 
 Arts." The last is very flourishing, and has 1,300 members. 
 It has an exhibition every year. It buys pictures for its 
 galleries, and others for distribution by lot among its members. 
 It sends young Finnish artists abroad to study, gives prizes, etc., 
 etc. It has two schools of design, one at Helsingfors, and the 
 other at Abo. These two schools had 135 pupils in 1875. They 
 pay a small weekly fee of two or three dollars. The amount 
 thus collected is set aside to assist poor but clever students. 
 
 There are several other learned societies at Helsingfors. 
 Perhaps the most important is that of " The Arts applied to 
 Industry " with a view to develop taste and skill among the 
 Finnish workmen. This society is only four years old, but it 
 gives instruction already to nearly 150 pupils. 
 
 To complete this sketch of Helsingfors, I should add that it 
 has 2 1 newspapers and periodicals, of which five are daily papers. 
 All the rest of Finland publishes 34 journals and periodicals. 
 Most of the newspapers are published in Swedish, for this is still 
 the language of the more highly educated classes. The Journals 
 published in Finnish, however, have the largest circulation. 
 
 The two other principal towns of Finland are Wiborg and 
 Abo. Wiborg is distant four hours by rail from St. Peters- 
 burg, and is a favorite resort of the Petersburgers during the 
 
no FINLAND, 
 
 ' summer, while some, whose health cannot stand the climate of 
 St. Petersburg, reside at Wiborg during the winter, too. It is 
 a town of about 15,000 inhabitants. It was founded in 1293, 
 and has been the scene of many a battle between the Swedes 
 and the Russians. Its castle, of which only a gate tower 
 remains (now used as a prison), was built in 1293 by Torkel, 
 son of Canute, and was once a superb establishment. Here 
 the Swedish Governors of Finland lived like princes, and one 
 of them starting from this castle, to be crowned King of 
 Sweden, issued from its gates with 500 horsemen. The town 
 is pleasantly situated on a fiord of the Gulf of Finland. The 
 Saima canal, having its outlet here, opens communication with 
 the interior of the country and with the water system of the 
 lakes, and its commerce is very considerable. The name 
 Wiborg is said to be derived from the German word Vieh^ 
 meaning cattle, for here German merchants, at one time, came 
 to purchase their cattle. 
 
 Abo is the oldest town in the Grand Duchy, and the second 
 in size. It is said to number 20,000 inhabitants. It is situated 
 on the river Aura, about a mile from its mouth. Vessels of 
 large draught remain in the port, but those of nine or ten feet 
 go up to the town. It has been a place of great importance, 
 and high court was held in its castle by many a Swedish monarch; 
 but wars, pestilence, famine, and fires have reduced it to a town 
 of minor importance. Still, it is the seat of some manufactories, 
 one of sugar, one of cotton, and two or three of machinery, 
 and small vessels are built here. A shipyard, owned by a 
 Scotch firm, constructs, from time to time, vessels and torpedo 
 boats for thé Russian Government. The beer of Abo is 
 famous, and it boasts of three large breweries. The Cathedral 
 of St. Henry is interesting from its associations and antiquity ; 
 but it has no architectural pretensions. It was the cradle of 
 
FINLAND. III 
 
 Christianity in Finland, and dates, as I have said, from 1300. 
 Its vaults contains the mummies, in copper coffins, of many of 
 the distinguished men of Sweden and Finland. In the Horn 
 Chapel is a fine stained glass window representing the beautiful 
 Kasin, Queen of Eric XIV. of Sweden, descending the steps of the 
 throne at the moment of her abdication, and return to Finland, 
 her birth-place. You open a trap-door, ^ake a tallow candle, 
 and descend a narrow, winding, stone stair to the vault below, 
 and there you see the beautiful queen herself, a dried-up 
 mummy in a copper coffin. 
 
 Within a few years they have introduced into Finland ti 
 capital system of farm instruction for the wives and daughters 
 of farmers. It was commenced in 1865 by the Government 
 sending two skilful butter-makers into the Government of 
 Kopio to instruct the peasants in the best manner of making 
 butter and cheese. Now these teachers are sent into all the 
 Governments, and, besides this, eleven dairy schools have 
 been established, supported by the State. Eight scholars — 
 girls — are admitted into each school, and after two years they 
 are turned out, thoroughly skilled in all the farm-work 
 generally done by women. In Finland, as in almost all 
 European countries, this includes pretty much all kinds of 
 farm-work. The effect of these schools has been excellent, so 
 that one farm now frequently churns as much butter as the 
 whole commune produced a few years ago. 
 
 Agriculture is, of course, the principal occupation of the 
 Finns. Eighty per cent, of the population are engaged in it in 
 some form or other. It is only since the middle of the 
 eighteenth century that agriculture has made any progress in 
 Finland. Before that date, constant wars and, above all, the 
 want of proper laws and customs securing private property, 
 nterfered sadly with cultivation. All the forests, and much of 
 
112 FINLAND. 
 
 the arable land, had, up to that date, been held in common. 
 The principal products of the soil are barley, oats, rye, grass, 
 potatoes, and hemp and flax. Wheat is grown in very small 
 quantities. The rye is excellent, and is exported to Sweden ; 
 the oats to England. But the grain often has to be kiln-dried, 
 the short, wet summer not supplying sufficient heat. The 
 grass, when mown, is not spread upon the groundto dry, as 
 with us j it is hung on poles with short branches left on them 
 to act as pegs, and retain the hay. There the wind gets at it, 
 and it is raised from the damp ground. Some fruit, such as 
 apples and pears, are grown, and some vegetables, but not in 
 large quantities. Almost all of these fruits and vegetables, and 
 most of the grains, will not grow, except under exceptional 
 circumstances of soil and site, north of the 62nd parallel of 
 latitude, and Finland, as I have said, extends from 60^ to 70^. 
 North of 62^ barley and potatoes are the only certain 
 crops. 
 
 Cattle thrive very well in Finland, and the export of butter 
 is very large, and the butter is excellent. It is sold generally 
 for about 14 cents a pound. Its excellence is accounted for 
 partly by the quality of the pasturage, but somewhat by the 
 habit of clearing large tracts of forest by burning. The land 
 thus cleared is cultivated for a year or two, and then allowed to 
 run wild. A dense vegetation soon grows up, covering the 
 soil and the stumps, and affording excellent browsing as well as 
 grazing for the animals. 
 
 The products of the forest contribute largely to the support 
 of the Finlanders. The innumerable lakes and water-courses 
 afford them a cheap means of getting their wood to market. 
 They exported in 1876 more than 300,000 cords of wood, and 
 enormous quantities of boards, plank, laths, etc. Fortunately, 
 the supply of wood is inexhaustible, if not destroyed by fire. 
 
FINLAND, 113 
 
 and this the Government has adopted measures to prevent. It 
 is estimated that the forest covers 64 per cent, of the surface 
 of the country. Trees grow very slowly in Finland. South of 
 61^30/ they require from 60 to 100 years, according to the 
 quality of the soil, to become fit for carpentering. North of 
 that parallel they require about 20 years more. 
 
 There are some mines in Finland, iron, copper, silver, tin, 
 etc., but with the exception of iron it does not pay to work 
 them. The best iron is found on the bottom of some of the 
 lakes, and is raised in hand nets. It was worked by the Finns 
 as long ago as in Pagan times. The theory is, that the iron is 
 dissolved by the action of water, carbonic acid and oxygen, 
 and thus dissolved is borne by the action of springs and streams 
 to the surface of the lakes, when by degrees it sinks in the form 
 of ochre, and combining with other substances, forms car- 
 bonate of iron, and finally iron in the form in which it is 
 dredged. It is generally found in small piles, in pieces large 
 as a quarter of a dollar. It gives employment to more than 
 twenty furnaces, and its production is constantly increasing. 
 The supply is supposed to be inexhaustible. 
 
 Finland manufactures in great variety, but on a small scale. 
 She has one or two sugar refineries, thirty breweries, and 
 several distilleries. She manufactures tobacco, mineral waters, 
 perfumery, matches, candles, linen, etc. The cotton industry 
 is important, and she brings her cotton (as well as her petroleum) 
 direct from the United States. In 1876 she imported about 
 4,000,000 pounds. The tanneries are numerous. Most of the 
 hides she imports from South America, and the leather she 
 sends to Russia. She manufactures machinery and tools, and 
 builds steamers and sailing vessels. The farmers along her 
 coasts have great skill in ship-building, and frequently a whole 
 neighborhood will unite to build one. The servant girls put 
 
 I 
 
114 FINLAND. 
 
 in their wages, and the men of the families man and sail her. 
 The Finns are good sailors, and the number of their ships is 
 very large. In 1876 they had 1,900 vessels, of which 125 
 were steamers. Seventy per cent, of their commerce is carried 
 on in Finnish bottoms. 
 
 The population of Finland has increased rapidly within a few 
 years. In 1815 she contained 1,000,000 inhabitants, and in 
 1875, 2,000,000. They have an admirable census system. 
 Every year the clergy prepare for the Government, tables 
 showing the marriages, births, and deaths, in their respective 
 parishes, and every five years they generalize these tables. 
 Finland has borrowed this system from Sweden, and those two 
 countries unquestionably have the best census system in the 
 world. Perhaps it is rendered possible by the fact that such an 
 immense proportion of the population belongs to the same 
 denomination. The Russian troops stationed in the country 
 are not included in the estimate, neither are the Jews, whom 
 the law does not allow to be naturalized. Eighty-five per 
 cent, of the population are Finns, fourteeen per cent. Swedes, 
 and the remaining one per cent, is made up of Russians, 
 Germans, and Lapps. As in other countries of Europe, the 
 women somewhat outnumber the men. To 1,000 men there 
 are 1,046 women. The cause of this is easily found in 
 drunkenness (the women rarely drinking), and in accidents to 
 which men are more liable than women. There are large 
 numbers of men, for instance, drowned every year — about 550. 
 This is not to be wondered at when we consider the immense 
 water system of Finland, with its coasts, lakes, and streams, 
 and the occupations of so many of its inhabitants. The 
 difference between the men and women in numbers, 46 in 
 1,000, is just about accounted for by the number of widows. 
 The Finns do not emigrate much, but, of course, a large 
 
FINLAND. IIS 
 
 number are permanently or temporarily established at St. 
 Petersburg, and a colony exists at Hancock, Michigan. 
 
 The Finns are a small race, blonde in the Western part of 
 Finland, where they have mixed with the Swedes, and much 
 darker in the East. They are intelligent, good humored, at 
 least in the West, affectionate and singularly honest. You may 
 expose articles of value freely out of doors without the slightest 
 danger of their being stolen, reminding one of our own country 
 villages thirty years ago, before immigration had increased 
 their population and diminished their honesty. Their govern- 
 ment is a very good one. The Emperor is their Grand Duke. 
 He nominates a Governor General, and a Senate. The Sena- 
 tors must be Finns, and so must the Secretary of State for 
 Finland, who resides at St. Petersburg, and looks after the 
 interests of the State. The legislative power is in the Diet. This 
 consists of four estates — the Nobles, the Clergy, the Bourgeois, 
 and the Peasants. The Diet must be called together at least 
 once in five years. No law can be enacted or abrogated with- 
 out its assent. All bills affecting taxes, or constitutional laws, 
 must receive the assent of all four Houses ; all other bills may 
 be passed by three Houses only. 
 
 The House of Nobles is hereditary. The other Houses are 
 elected. In each of these three orders any one is eligible who 
 is 25 years old, and is a Christian. Non-Christians may vote, 
 but are not eligible to ofhce. 
 
 The communes manage their own affairs, as we do with us, 
 and are supreme in all matters of local taxation, primary schools, 
 public health, paupers, roads, etc. They have an admirable 
 system which might be introduced into our large cities to 
 advantage. In electing the Administrators, or Town Council, 
 each inhabitant has a number of votes in proportion to the 
 taxes he pays. In other words, if he pays the largest tax, and 
 
ii6 FINLAND, . 
 
 consequently contributes most to the support of the commune, 
 he has most to say in the selection of the Administrators. This 
 appears to be simple justice. 
 
 The finances of Finland are in an admirable condition. The 
 receipts exceed the expenditures. The mark and the penni are 
 the currency of the country. The former is exactly a franc 
 and the latter a centime. The Finnish banks pay gold. On 
 presenting a check you have a right to claim four-fifths of the 
 amount in gold. Gold being so easily had, the people of 
 course, as with us, prefer paper. Finland followed the lead of 
 Germany and Sweden, some few years ago, in demonetizing 
 silver. Germany and Sweden have both suffered in conse- 
 quence. I trust that Finland will not; but she is too poor a 
 country to proscribe silver; only England can afford such 
 luxuries. 
 
 This is a brief sketch of an interesting and comparatively 
 unknown country. I think that the readers of these pages will 
 conclude with me, that the Finns bear but a slight resemblance 
 to the Lapps. 
 
THE KALEVALA. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 THE Kalevala is the great epic poem, or national song of 
 Finland. What the Iliad was to the Greeks, or the 
 Nibelungen to the Germans, the Kalevala is to the Finns. So 
 great a critic as Max Muller says, " If the poet may take his 
 colors from that nature by which he is surrounded, if he may 
 depict the men with whom he lives, Kalevala possesses merits 
 not dissimilar from those of the Iliad, and will claim its place 
 as the fifth national epic of the world." 
 
 The Kalevala was collected by a painstaking and accom- 
 plished Finnish scholar, Dr. Elias Lönnrot, from the mouths 
 of the peasants. He travelled for years through Finland, and 
 especially the province of Archangel near the White Sea, living 
 with the peasants, gaining their confidence, and hstening to 
 their songs. These he collected, and on his return to Helsing- 
 fors, connected them, and reduced them to a complete poem. 
 This, in all probability, was the manner in which the IHad was 
 written. Homer was the Dr. Elias Lönnrot of the early Greek 
 period. The greater part of the Kalevala dates back to the 
 ninth and tenth centuries, before the introduction of Christianity, 
 when the Finns worshipped the powers of Nature, and divided 
 the gods into good and evil spirits, the powers of light and the 
 powers of darkness. The poem may be said to be a perfect 
 picture of pagan life among the Finns, say about the year 
 900 A.D. But it is curious to observe howin the course of centuries 
 
ii8 THE KÄLEVALÄ. 
 
 of transmission from mouth to mouth, images drawn from 
 Christianity appear from time to time. The cross is introduced, 
 and in the last ^' runo " the birth of the Saviour is clearly 
 alluded to. 
 
 The Kalevala has been translated into several languages. 
 In Sweden and Germany it has been translated into metre, and 
 in France into prose. It is written in eight syllable verse, the 
 metre of Hiawatha. The late Prof Porter, of Yale College, 
 translated a small portion of it, the episode of Aino, into 
 English verse. 
 
 Dr. Lönnrot found great difficulty in collecting these songs. 
 The peasants hold them in superstitious veneration, and are 
 very unwilling to communicate them to foreigners. It was only 
 after dwelling a long time among them, and treating them 
 when sick gratuitously, for fortunately he was a physician, that 
 he was able to overcome their suspicions. The songs were 
 sometimes sung by the old women as they spun, and sometimes 
 by the men at their work ; but the great source of the riches 
 the Doctor collected was when a trial of memory and skill took 
 place between two rival bards. Then the villagers gathered 
 round. The singers placed themselves astraddle upon a bench, 
 facing each other, joined hands, interlocked their fingers, and 
 began. First one of them sang a stanza, the other repeated it 
 and added another, and so on for hour after hour, to the great 
 delight of the audience, till one of the contestants gave out 
 from fatigue or lack of memory. 
 
 The Kalevala describes Finnish nature very accurately and 
 very beautifully. Joseph Grimm says that no poem is to be 
 compared with it in this respect, unless it be some of the great 
 Indian epics. It contains poems for special occasions, such as 
 marriages, the brewing of the beer, sowing grain, after a bear hunt, 
 the birth of a child, etc., etc., and many of them are retained to 
 
THE KALE V ALA, 119 
 
 this day. The marriage songs are especially beautiful. The 
 classical reader will be struck with the unexpected intervention 
 from time to time of an old man or woman, or of a small boy, 
 after the manner of the chorus in the old Greek tragedies. 
 
 The Kalevala opens with the expression of the ardent desire 
 of the singer to sing a national song. The sacred fire is burning 
 within him. 
 
 " Ardent longings stir my being, 
 
 " Thoughts within my brain have risen ; 
 
 " I long to breath my words in singing, 
 
 " Sing a sacred song of Suomi.^' 
 
 " Within my mouth the words are surging, 
 
 " Overflow my tongue's defences j 
 Spread around my gums and white teeth, 
 
 " Rush between my lips in torrents." 
 Then he challenges another singer to contest the palm of 
 superiority with him, and invites him to place himself upon the 
 trial bench. 
 
 " Brother bard, my youth's companion, 
 
 " Come and sing with me our meeting, 
 
 " Rarely now we meet together, 
 
 " Rarely now we see each other, 
 
 " In these isolated regions, 
 
 " In these dreary realms of Pohja. f 
 
 " Place your hand within my glad hand, 
 
 " Your fingers interlock with mine ; 
 
 " Let us sing events prodigious, 
 
 " That these young and vig'rous hearers, 
 
 " Eager to be told of wonders, 
 
 " Learn the words we youthful gathered, 
 
 " From the belt of Wainamoinen, 
 * Finland or Fenland. t Lapland. 
 
I20 THE KA LE VA LA, 
 
 In the forge of Ilmarinen, 
 " On the sword's point of Kaukomieli^ 
 " On the bow of Joukahainen, 
 " On the frontiers of Pohjola, 
 " And the sterile plains of Kalva." 
 He then proceeds to state where he has gathered all his 
 wisdom. He has plucked it from the bushes, gathered it from 
 the trees, found it in the turf 
 
 " Frost to me has chanted verses, 
 " Rain has borne me learned runot ; 
 " Winds of heaven, waves of ocean, 
 " Oft have sung to me their poems. 
 " Birds have taught me by their singing, 
 " Trees have asked me to their concerts." 
 
 My readers will be reminded of Longfellow's Hiawatha, 
 where Nawadaha, the Indian bard, is stated to have drav/n his 
 wisdom from the animal creation. 
 
 " All the wild fowl sang them to him, 
 " In the moorlands, and the fenlands, 
 " In the melancholy marshes. 
 " Chetonaik, the plover, sang them, 
 " Making the loon, the wild goose, Wawa ; 
 " The blue heron, the shuh-shuh-gah. 
 And the grouSe, the Mushkodaso." 
 
 Then comes the story. It goes back to the creation of the 
 earth. Nothing existed but air and water. Luonnotar, the 
 beautiful daughter of the air, descended into the sea. There 
 she gave birth to Wainamoinen. As she floated upon the 
 water, a duck, seeking a place to lay her eggs, deposited them 
 upon her knee, and sat upon them. The place soon became 
 so hot, that the beautiful Luonnotar turned over in the water. 
 
THE KALEVALÄ. 121 
 
 and the eggs fell to the bottom and were broken. From them 
 came the dry land. 
 
 " Lowest end became the dry land, 
 
 Upper end the glorious heaven, 
 " The sun resplendent, is the yolk, 
 " The white, the silvery shining moon. 
 " Stars are made of specks of eggshell, 
 " Clouds of all the darker portions." 
 
 This ends the first runo. 
 
 Wainamoinen now appears upon the scene. It will be 
 remembered that he was the son of the daughter of the air, and 
 is, like Hiawatha, both warrior and magician. He was born 
 full grown, like Minerva from the head of Jove. He lands 
 upon a desert island, and goes to work at once to plant and 
 cultivate it. He planted pines upon the hills, and bushes in 
 the valleys ; birches in the wet places, and oaks upon the 
 borders of the streams. But the oak grew too large, and over- 
 shadowed the whole land, so that nothing would grow in its 
 shade, and Wainamoinen was obliged to call upon his mother 
 to send a water spirit to cut it down. This was done, and from 
 that time everything throve in Finland. The oak is a very rare 
 tree to this day, and is only to be found along the shores of the 
 Gulf of Finland in the southern part of the country. 
 
 But there was as yet no grain in the land. Wainamoinen, 
 the poem says, " reflected profoundly." Then he took a walk 
 by the sea shore. There he found several little seeds washed 
 up by the waves, and among others rye, now the great staple 
 of Finland. These he gathered and sowed, singing as he sowed 
 them, the following invocation to Ukko, the Creator, an invo- 
 cation still often chanted by the peasants as they sow their 
 grain in the spring : 
 
122 THE KA LE VÄL A. 
 
 Ukko, hear my invocation, 
 " You who reign supreme in heaven ; 
 Gather clouds within your strong hands, 
 Trace their path across the sun's rays. 
 " Clouds from out the orient gather, 
 Others from where lies the sunset, 
 " Others bring up from the southland ; 
 
 These then quickly join together, 
 " Pierce a hole within their borders. 
 " Softly fell the blessed rain-drops, 
 " Honey from the hives etherial, 
 " On the germs, which quickly grew up, 
 " On the crops which ripened swiftly. 
 
 Thick the grain stood mid the furrows, 
 " Fields were covered with the rye-heads." 
 This will remind my readers of the beautiful description of 
 the planting of the Indian com in Hiawatha. 
 
 When Wainamoinen cleared the land in order that he might 
 sow the rye, he had left a solitary birch tree standing. The 
 cuckoo, the favorite bird of the Finns, the emblem of love and 
 joy and gaiety, now appears upon the scene, and after the 
 manner of birds and beasts in those primitive times, addresses 
 Wainamoinen, and asks why he left the birch tree standing. 
 Wainamoinen, who appears to have had a good deal of 
 " blarney " about him, as becomes an enchanter, replies that he, 
 
 " Left the birch tree, cuckoo darhng, 
 " Left the beauteous tree a-standing, 
 " That cuckoo might repose when tired, 
 " Sing her song among the branches." 
 
 " Sing then, sing, Oh ! beauteous cuckoo, 
 " Sing with full note bosom-swelling. 
 
THE KA LE V AL A, 123 
 
 " Golden-breasted, brazen throated. 
 " Sing, Oh ! sing, at evening twihght ; 
 " Sing at sunrise, sing at noon-day. 
 
 " Sing my fields so rich and fertile, 
 " Sing my woods so soft and pleasant, 
 " Sing the treasures of my waters, 
 " And the riches of my ploughed fields." 
 This ends the second runo. 
 
 We come now to the first love affair, at least on the part of 
 one of the parties. Old Wainamoinen (in the poem he is never 
 young), finds his life lonely, and looks about him for a wife. 
 A curious custom prevailed among the ancient Finns, that they 
 must not take their wives from their own village, or among 
 their acquaintances. Frequently they went to war, or made 
 raids, and carried off young girls by force as the Romans 
 carried off the Sabines. A warrior and magician of Pohjola, 
 one Joukahaineii, had heard of the fame of Wainamoinen. He 
 harnessed up his stallion with " flaming nostrils and fetlocks of 
 fire," to his golden sleigh, and started to provoke Wainamoinen 
 to a trial of strength. They had a lively contest as to the 
 origin of things in general, for the power of the " word," as the 
 Kalevala calls it, consisted in wisdom, in the knowledge of 
 plants and of animals, of their habits, of the origin of fire and 
 iron, and even of geography. In this contest Joukahainen 
 came off second best, and his adversary ended by turning his 
 feet and hands into stone, and burying him in a bog up to his 
 chin. To extricate himself, Joukahainen promised to give his 
 sister, the beautiful Aino, in marriage to Wainamoinen. But 
 this arrangement did not suit the young woman, as we shall 
 presently see. Her mother was decidedly in favor of the 
 match, for Wainamoinen was rich and famous. She gave her 
 daughter some good advice. 
 
124 THE KALEVAL A, 
 
 " Dry your tears, Oh ! foolish virgin, 
 Cahn your grief, my child beloved ; 
 No ground there is to take a sad face, 
 " To weep and wail your tearful fate." 
 But Aino answers : 
 
 " I weep, I pass my days in crying, 
 
 " Because youVe pledged me to an old man; 
 
 " Me, your child once so beloved, 
 
 " To be the comfort of a dotard, 
 
 " The staff and stay of one decrepit. 
 
 " Rather would I drown in ocean, 
 
 " Be the sister of the fishes. 
 
 Cousin of the water dwellers, 
 " Than an old man's steps to bear up, 
 " Lest he fall to earth all helpless, 
 " If he stumble o'er a splinter." 
 The betrothal proceeded, however, as betrothals have done, 
 and will continue to do as long as there are ambitious mothers 
 to be found, and nothing was left for poor Aino but to kill her- 
 self, which she forthwith proceeded to do. She put on her 
 most beautiful dress, and all her ornaments, left her home and 
 wandered to the gulf, where, after a touching farewell to her 
 father and mother, brother and sister, she drowned herself. 
 The hare brings the news of her death to her mother. That 
 matron, when it is too late, repents, and gives some good 
 advice to other mothers. 
 
 Mothers, ne'er unite your daughters 
 " To the man they have not chosen ; 
 " Alas ! I did so with my darling, 
 With my dove, so white and beauteous." 
 Thereupon, the cuckoo comes in and sings a song. But the 
 mother cannot listen to the cuckoo, it saddens her too much. 
 
THE KALEVALA. 125 
 
 " Hark not to the cuckoo's singing, 
 
 " The heart beats fast, the tears will flow. 
 
 Trickle down the weeper's visage, 
 " Larger than the peas or white beans." 
 
 This beautiful episode of Aino carries us through the third, 
 fourth and fifth runot. It is this that was translated into 
 English trochaics by Professor Porter. 
 
 Wainamoinen felt badly at the loss of his beautiful bride ; not 
 so badly, however, but that he started almost immediately in 
 search of another. But first he tried to fish up the remains of 
 Aino. He threw his nets into the sea, and he fished with hook 
 and line too. Finally he caught an extraordinary fish. He 
 had never seen anything like it. It would have puzzled Agassiz 
 to classify it. While he was examining the scales, to see to what 
 species it belonged, it slipped through his fingers and dis- 
 appeared in the waters, thus giving him the slip for the second 
 time, for it was Aino. Then she began to chaff him. She 
 called him a stupid old man, who did not know how to keep a 
 young girl when he had got her. He entreated her to return, 
 but she would not. Thereupon he made a new net of silk, and 
 dragged all the bays and inlets of the coast, and the rivers and 
 lakes. He fished too with hook and line. But all in vain. 
 She never bit again. In his grief he addressed the cuckoo, who 
 evidently sympathised deeply with him. 
 
 ^''Joyous cuckoos sang at sunrise, 
 " Sang their songs at noon and evening ; 
 " What has stopped their song melodious ? 
 " What has stilled their voice outpouring ? 
 " Grief has stopped their song melodious, 
 "Tears have choked th'eir voice outpouring ; 
 " No more they sing at early morning, 
 
126 THE KALEVAL A, 
 
 " No more they sing at golden sunset, 
 " To charm the lengthening hours of evening, 
 Wake me with their joyous singing." 
 Wainamoinen, under the advice of his mother, who returns 
 from the tomb to give it, now decides to go to Pohjola in search 
 of a bride. He mounts his horse and starts, but Joukahainen, 
 whom, it will be remembered_, he defeated and enchanted, 
 determines to have his revenge. He makes a bow of iron 
 mixed with copper^ and ornamented with gold and silver. The 
 bow-string was made of the sinews of the stag of Hiisi* is mixed 
 with hairs from the tail of his stallion. Cut in relief upon the 
 bow, were figures of a horse, a colt and a hare. Having manu- 
 factured arrows to match, and dipped their points in "the 
 biting venom of the viper,'' he lay in wait for Wainamoinen. 
 His mother endeavored in vain to dissaude him from his 
 attempt. 
 
 " If you shoot at Wainamoinen, 
 
 *^ If you kill the Kalevainen, 
 Swift all joy will leave our Suomi, 
 
 " Song will vanish from the mainland. 
 
 " Better far is song in Finland, 
 
 " Better joy upon the mainland 
 
 " Than in the Kingdom of Manala, 
 
 " In the domains of Tuonela."t 
 When Wainamoinen came within range, Joukahainen shot at 
 him, but the arrow, instead of striking the hero, struck his 
 " blue " horse. It is necessary to state that the horse was at 
 that moment galloping over the sea, so that when he was killed 
 Wainamoinen fell into the water. He was driven up and down 
 by the winds and waves for eight years, according to one ver- 
 sion, but the better received authorities put it at eight days. On 
 *The Devil. fHades. 
 
THE KALE V ALA. 127 
 
 the eighth day, being somewhat fatigued, he began to complain 
 of his sad position, and asked, what he should do, "where he 
 should go." 
 
 Suddenly an eagle appeared upon the scene. The poet 
 states that he was neither great nor small," though with one 
 wing he swept the heavens, and with the other he touched the 
 ocean ; his tail was upon the waves, while his beak devastated 
 the islands. The eagle paused in his flight and asked Waina- 
 moinen what he was doing there. Wainamoinen explained. It 
 appeared that this eagle, like the cuckoo, had felt grateful to 
 Wainamoinen for leaving the birch tree for him to rest upon. 
 He recalled the circumstance, told Wainamoinen that he had 
 not forgotten it, and invited him to mount upon his back that 
 he might be carried to Pohjola. This was done. 
 
 There Louhi, a sorceress and apparently queen of those 
 parts, found him in rather a sad plight. She took him to her 
 house, gave him a vapor bath, had him well rubbed down and 
 kneaded by the bath girl, a practice still kept up in Finland, 
 and then gave him a good dinner. She offered to give him a 
 wife and send him home, on condition of his forging a " Sampo" 
 for her, a sort of magic mill, which would bring prosperity to 
 Lapland. It was to be forged of the feathers of the swan, the 
 milk of a dry cow, a grain of barley, and a tuft of the wool of a 
 sheep with lamb. Wainamoinen confessed that he was unable 
 to forge it, but said he knew a man who could do it, his friend 
 Ilmarinen, a famous blacksmith. It was he who had forged the 
 sky, who had made the " cover of the air" so skilfully, that the 
 marks of the hammer and of the pincers could not be seen upon 
 it. It was agreed that Ilmarinen should forge the " Sampo/' and 
 Wainamoinen was sent safely home. 
 
 On his way^ Wainamoinen saw his destined bride sitting upon 
 the rainbow. He invited her to come down and take a seat in 
 
128 THE KÄLEVÄLA, 
 
 his sleigh. She promised to do so, if he should perform suc- 
 cessfully several difficult tasks she set him. He performed 
 some of them, but while he was building a magic boat, to please 
 her, he wounded himself badly in the leg. Unfortunately, he 
 had forgotten the magic words which cure wounds, and was 
 compelled to go in search of them. After many adventures he 
 found an old man who told him that he would cure him — 
 could command the necessary words, if he could only learn the 
 origin of iron ; for the Finns held in their medical magic, that 
 to cure diseases or to heal a wound, the operator must know 
 the origin of what produced the disease or inflicted the wound. 
 A very thorough system of diagnosis this. Wainamoinen there- 
 upon explained to the old man the origin of iron. The account 
 is so curious, and at the same time so highly poetical, that I 
 give it entire. 
 
 " Whence comes iron? you would ask me, 
 " Whence the steel to make our spear-heads ? 
 Air is oldest of the brothers, 
 Water was the next created \ 
 " Fire next, and lastly iron. 
 
 Ukko, glorious Jumala, 
 " Struck his hand upon his left knee ; 
 
 Born at once were three fair sisters, 
 " Mothers of the puissant iron. 
 " With their milk they washed the mainland. 
 
 Watered all the plains and marshes, 
 " Mixed it with the waves of ocean. 
 " From the black milk came the iron, 
 From the white, the steel for spear-heads." 
 
 " But the iron wished to visit, 
 " Wished to see his brother fire ; 
 
THE KALEVALÄ. 
 
 But the fire arose in anger, 
 
 Nearly slew his brother iron. 
 "Then the iron fled in terror, 
 
 Hid himself deep in the marshes, 
 " Buried in the savage mountains, 
 "Where the wild swans rear their young ones, 
 "And the wild geese rear their goslings. 
 " But he could not 'scape the fire, 
 
 Must become a sword and spear-head ; 
 " For the wolf had found his dwelling, 
 " And the bear laid bare his cavern." 
 
 ^' Ilmarinen, famous blacksmith, 
 " Born upon a hill of black coals, 
 " Brought up on a field of coal soot, 
 " Copper hammer in his right hand, 
 " Pincers held within his left hand, 
 " One day old, a forge had builded — 
 " One day old, had made a bellows — 
 " In the cavern saw the iron. 
 In the cave the bear discovered." 
 
 ^' Then he said, ' Unhappy iron, 
 
 " ' Wherefore do you thus lie hidden, 
 
 " ' When the wolf has trod your dwelling, 
 
 " ' And the bear's foot pressed your cavern ? ' 
 
 Then he thought, he thought profoundly, 
 " ^ If I forge this idle iron, 
 " ' If I seize it with my pincers !' 
 " But the iron cried in anguish, 
 " For he feared his brother fire." 
 K 
 
THE KALE V A LA. 
 
 " Ilmarinenj famous blacksmith, 
 Sought to soothe the iron's anguish. 
 
 " ' Fire will not hurt his neighbour, 
 
 " ^ Fire will not hurt his brother; 
 ^ Enter then, his beauteous dwelling, 
 * Change thy shape to one of beauty ; 
 
 " ' Be the sword in warrior's right hand, 
 ^ Be the fringe on beauty's bosom.'" 
 
 Ilmarinen blew the bellows ; 
 
 Blew the bellows once, twice, three times 
 " And the iron flowed a liquid, 
 " Shone like foam that caps the sea waves ; 
 
 Spread itself like barley batter, 
 " Beneath the fearful strength of fire." 
 
 ^'Then the iron cried in anguish, 
 " ' Ilmarinen, skilful blacksmith, 
 " Save me from my brother's anger, 
 " From the flame of fearful fire.' 
 "Said Ilmarinen, said the blacksmith : 
 " ^ If I draw thee from the fire, 
 " You perhaps will strike your brother, 
 " Strike the son borne by your mother.' 
 
 " Solemn oath then swore the iron, 
 " In the forge, beneath the hammer. 
 " ' Have I not the wood to bite on, 
 " ' Hearts of solid rock to render ? 
 " ' Can I wish to strike my brother, 
 
 ' Strike the son borne by my mother ? 
 " ' Better for me, far, far better, 
 " 'Aid the traveller on his journey; 
 
THE KALEVÄLA. 
 
 ' Weapon be within his right hand, 
 " ' Rather than attack my own race, 
 ' Strike the son borne by my mother.' 
 
 " Ilmarinen, skilful blacksmith, 
 ^' Drew from out the fire the iron, 
 " Placed it flat upon the anvil. 
 
 Turned it with his skilful pincers, 
 " Made it into spears and spear-heads, 
 " Made it into swords and hatchets, 
 
 Made it into spades and shovels, 
 
 Made it into tools of labor. 
 " But it wanted still due hardness, 
 " Wanted still the proper temper.'* 
 
 " Then he cast a pinch of ashes. 
 
 Cast of bitter lye a cup full, 
 " Mixed it with the helpful water, 
 "That the softened iron might harden. 
 " With his tongue he tastes the water, 
 " Finds it will not harden iron." 
 
 " Mehilainen, honey maker. 
 Flew and hummed about the smithy. 
 
 " ' Mehilainen, go I pray thee, 
 ^ Bring me honey on thy blue wings. 
 ^ Bring it from the various flowers ; 
 
 " ' Bring it from the stalks of green herb. 
 
 " ^ Thus the iron will I temper, 
 
 " ' Thus the softened iron harden.' " 
 
 *The bee. 
 K 2 
 
132 THE KÄLEVALA. 
 
 " Hemilainen, wasp accursed, 
 " Bird of Hiisi, king of Hades, 
 " Peeped beneath the roof of birch-bark, 
 Saw the iron that should be hardened. 
 ^' Then he slyly stilled his buzzing, 
 " Crept unto the trough of water, 
 " Cast therein the serpent's poison, 
 " Pus of worm, and ant, and toad." 
 
 Ilmarinen, skilful blacksmith, 
 " Drew from out the fire the iron, 
 " Plunged it in the hardening water. 
 " But the iron forgot his promise, 
 " Like a dog, forgot his honor ; 
 " Red with rage, he struck his brother, 
 
 Struck the son borne by his mother." 
 
 This accounts for the hissing and sputtering when the hot 
 iron is plunged into the water. It is all Hiisi's doings. 
 
 Having learned the origin of iron, the old man was in a 
 position to heal Wainamoinen's wound. So he compounded 
 a salve, anointed the knee of the hero, and cured him. 
 Wainamoinen returned to his own country. This takes us 
 through the ninth runo. 
 
 Ilmarinen now comes upon the scene, the friend and com- 
 panion of Wainamoinen. The latter recounts to him his 
 promise, but Ilmarinen refuses to go to Pohjola to forge the 
 " Sampo." Thereupon Wainamoinen creates a magic tree, and 
 asks his friend to go and see it. He is persuaded to climb 
 the tree, when a whirlwind carries him off to P )hjola. There 
 he set to work and forged the famous ''Sampo"; but the young 
 girl who was to be the price of his labors, refuses to go 
 with him. 
 
THE KALEVALA, 133 
 
 Who will make the cuckoos warble, 
 " Who will make thebirdlings twitter, 
 
 If I foolish leave my mother, 
 " If the pigeon leave the branches, 
 " If a stranger pluck the berry ? " 
 Ilmarinen seems to have taken his rejection by the Lapland 
 beauty very philosophically. But he longed to return to his 
 own country. In sign of grief, he wore his hat on the side of 
 his head, a custom among the ancient Finns. The grateful 
 Louhi, seeing his distress, put him in a boat, evoked the north 
 wind, and sent him back to his own country. 
 
 Wainamoinen's second friend, the gay and festive Lemmin- 
 kainen, now appears. It seems to be the correct thing in epic 
 poetry for the hero to have two particular friends. Hiawatha, 
 it will be remembered, had his two friends. 
 " Chileabos, the musician, 
 " And the very strong man, Kwasind." 
 It will not do to follow Lemminkainen's amorous exploits 
 too closely. They may have done very well in a poem of the 
 ninth century, but are out of place in one of the nineteenth. 
 He finally marries the beautiful Kylliki, whom he had carried 
 off, after the fashion of those days, and settles down. The 
 mother-in-law receives Kylliki with great kindness, and tells 
 her son that he is a lucky fellow. 
 
 Pure the sparrow on the snow drift, 
 " Purer still the bird beside thee ; 
 
 White the foam upon the sea-wave, 
 " Whiter still the wife thou ownest j 
 " Fair the duck upon the waters. 
 Fairer still the bride thou bringest ; 
 Bright the stars beam in the heavens. 
 Brighter still the bride beside thee." 
 
134 THE KÄLEVÄLA, 
 
 Lemminkainen and Kylliki lived very happily together for 
 some years. They had made a bargain. He was not to go to 
 the wars, and she was not to gad about the village. But on 
 one unfortunate occasion he staid out all night fishing. She 
 got angry, and went off at once to a dance among the young 
 people. He said he would repudiate her and go to Lapland 
 in search of another wdfe. This he did, but, after performing 
 many warlike exploits, he came to grief, and was killed by a 
 huge serpent. His body was cut to pieces, and thrown into 
 the river Tuoni, answering to the Styx, in the gloomy depths 
 of Manala, or Hades. 
 
 Before starting out on his expedition, Lemminkainen had 
 hung a comb up in his bed-room, and had notified his mother 
 that if that comb should bleed, she might know that 
 something serious had happened to him. Kylliki, who seems 
 to have been attached to her husband, notwithstanding her esca- 
 pade of the dance house, watched the comb carefully. One day she 
 saw it bleed, and told her mother-in-law. That lady started 
 without delay for Pohjola, and called on Louhi, who gave her 
 all the information she could about her son, but it was not 
 much. Then she interrogated the roads and the trees, the 
 sun and the moon. 
 
 " Like a wolf she crossed the marshes, 
 
 Like a bear she ranged the deserts, 
 " Like an otter swam the waters ; 
 " Like a wild boar ranged the meadows, 
 " And a hare the banks and bushes.'' 
 
 Finally the sun took -pity on her, and told her what he had 
 seen of the fate of her son. 
 
 She lost no time. She went at once to Ilmarinen and 
 ordered an immense oyster rake with a copper handle and iron 
 
THE KALEVALA. 135 
 
 teeth. The teeth were to be 500 feet long, and the handle 
 2,500. With this instrument she raked the bed of the Tuoni, 
 and gradually collected the fragments of her son's body. She 
 put them together, and then, with a magic balm which the bee 
 brought her from heaven, she restored him to life. This 
 episode of Lemminkainen, carries us through the fifteenth runo. 
 
 Wainamoinen now appears again. He constructs a magic 
 ship, but having forgotten three important words in his 
 incantation, descends into Manala to find them. The evil 
 spirits sought to detain him, but he changed himself into a 
 water snake, plunged into the Tuoni and escaped. Finally he 
 compelled the giant Wihanen to give him the three words he 
 required. The giant, having given them, chanted his runot 
 for several days and nights. 
 
 "Paused the sun and moon to listen, 
 " Stopped the waves their ceaseless murmur; 
 " Wuoksa checked his mighty waters, 
 "Jordan chained his flood tremendous." 
 
 The introduction of the river Jordan is curious, and marks 
 the Christian era. The Wuoksa or Vuoxa, as it is now 
 written, is the outlet of Lake Saima. Upon its banks stands 
 an English fishing club, and in its mighty waters, the writer 
 has killed many a goodly trout. In its course it forms the 
 cataract of Imatra, also referred to in the epic, the finest 
 waterfall in Russia, and for volume of water the finest in 
 Europe. 
 
 Having completed his boat, Wainamoinen started for 
 Pohjola in search of a wife. But Ilmarinen, hearing of his 
 departure, and thinking that he had the first claim, went in 
 pursuit. He overtook Wainamoinen. They thereupon agreed 
 to leave the matter to the decision of the young woman, and 
 
136 THE KÄLEVALA. 
 
 not to interfere with her choice, or to carry her off by force. 
 The mother advised her to take Wainamoinen, but she pre- 
 ferred the younger man, and poor Wainamoinen was again left 
 out in the cold. 
 
 " I will not marry Wainamoinen, 
 !^ Will not support a man decrepit. 
 " In the way always are old men j 
 Troublesome a man decrepit." 
 Louhi gives her consent to the marriage of her daughter, on 
 condition that Ilmarinen accomplishes certain tasks she sets 
 him. He does not see his way clear, but the young girl who 
 has made up her mind to marry him, tells him how to do them , 
 and he comes out victorious. Louhi then consents. Waina- 
 moinen returns home, and composes a song in which he laments 
 that he did not marry in his youth, and advises all old men not 
 to set themselves up as rivals to younger ones. 
 
 Preparations were then made in Pohjola for the marriage. 
 They killed a bull which, the poem tells us, " was neither big 
 nor little, he was about the size of an ordinary calf ; " but his 
 tail was in one province and his head in another. His horns 
 were one hundred ells long, his nostrils half an ell thick. The 
 swallow took a day to fly from horn to horn, and the squirrel a 
 month to run down his tail. 
 
 They had some difficulty in killing this medium-sized bull, 
 but they finally effected it. . They then proceeded to brew 
 the beer. 
 
 All this runo is very beautiful. The description of the 
 planting of the barley and the hops, the wish expressed by the 
 water to be united with them, for, as it justly observed, " sad 
 is life where one is alone ; more agreeable is it when there are 
 two ; when there are three." The preparations of Osmotar, 
 the beer girl, to brew the beer, her difficulty in making it 
 
THE KALEVÄLA. 137 
 ferment, and the manner in which she overcame it, all are told 
 at great length and with great beauty. The beer was finally 
 brewed and placed in a huge tun of oak, with hoops of brown 
 copper. 
 
 " Thus was born the beer delicious, 
 " Thus the drink of Suomi's sons. 
 " Far and wide its fame resounded. 
 Far and wide its well-earned glory. 
 " Men, good humour, girls their laughter, 
 " Wise men, wit, and fools their folly, 
 " Found within the beer of Suomi, 
 In the beer of Kalevala." 
 The preparations having been made, all the world was 
 asked to the wedding except Lemminkainen. Louhi said that 
 he always made trouble, and was almost certain to provoke a 
 fight. Lemminkainen resented this exclusion, as will presently 
 be seen. 
 
 Then follows a description of a wedding among people of 
 condition in ancient Finland. Singing plays an important part 
 in the ceremonies. The son-in-law is the most honoured guest. 
 Louhi overwhelmed hers with attentions. They feasted day 
 and night, for several days and nights. The menu included 
 fresh beef and salmon, smoked meats, and cream cakes. 
 Louhi saw that her son-in-law was always helped to the best 
 portions. The drink was beer. 
 
THE KALEVÄLA. 
 
 PART II. 
 
 WHEN the feast was over, Wainamoinen sang, and was 
 '^the joy of the evening." At the end of the song he 
 called down a blessing on the host and hostess, on their sons 
 and their daughters. 
 
 The bride now gets ready to leave her father's house. Then 
 follows a long and very touching adieu to her old home. But 
 first the mother, partly in grief, and partly in feigned anger 
 abuses her daughter for leaving her. 
 
 Go my daughter, go my loved onCj 
 Go my dove, the dove that's sold. 
 " Now is come the hour of union, 
 " Now the time to say farewell. 
 
 He who bears thee off is by thee, 
 " Near the door he stands impatient, 
 " Champs upon the bit the stallion, 
 " Awaits the bride the golden sleigh." 
 
 " Why abandon thus your mother ? 
 " Why dost leave your native country ? 
 "Here you had no thought of trouble, 
 " Here no care your heart to burden. 
 " Cares were left to pines of forest, 
 " Troubles to the posts and fences, 
 " Bitter griefs to trees of marshes, 
 " Sad complaints to lonely birches. 
 " Like the leaf you floated onward, 
 " Like the butterfly in summer — 
 " Grew a bay, a beauteous berry, 
 " In the meadow of your mother." 
 
THE KALEVALA. 139 
 
 All this naturally affects the bride, who now begins to 
 repent her marriage. 
 
 " In my youth I foolish uttered, 
 " In the flower of age I murmured, 
 " ' In the mansion of my father, 
 " ' 'Neath the keen eye of my mother, 
 " ' I shall never be a woman, 
 " ^ Till I'm married to a husband ; 
 " ' Then shall I become a woman, 
 " * Then be taller by a hand's span.' " 
 
 " This, the object of my wishes. 
 
 This, like fertile year I wished for, 
 " This, like beauteous summer longed for. 
 
 Now, alas ! behold me married, 
 " Ready, now, to leave this mansion. 
 
 What is this strange change within me ? 
 " No joy I feel to leave this mansion — 
 " No joy to quit my father's meadows — 
 
 Full of grief I leave his pastures." 
 
 Now, to night of autumn go I, 
 
 Slipping on a frozen pathway. 
 
 Do all young women feel as I do. 
 
 Dark their hearts, and full of sorrow ? 
 " Like the dawn the happy bosom, 
 " Like in spring the splendid sunrise. 
 
 To what can I my sad thoughts liken ! 
 
 Like the shores of dreary waters, 
 " Like the borders of the black clouds, 
 
 Like the dreary nights of autumn, 
 \ "And a sunless day in winter." 
 
I40 THE KALE V AL A. 
 
 The old nurse now comes forward. She draws a dreadful 
 picture of the sufferings of the young bride in the house of her 
 husband. The bride continues : — 
 
 " Full the cataract of smooth stones, 
 Full the sterile land of willows, 
 Full the arid land of bushes, 
 Fuller still my heart of sad cares ; 
 No stallion in the world could drag them, 
 No iron-shod horse, how strong he might be, 
 " But bend his bow/^' and break his harness, 
 " Loaded down with all my sorrows." 
 
 Thereupon, a small boy, who is lying on the floor, comes in 
 after the manner of the Greek chorus. He gives the bride 
 some good advice. He asks her, substantially, what she is 
 crying about. She is not going to be carried off into a marsh, 
 or thrown into a gutter. Her husband is a good-looking young 
 fellow. He has a lovely sleigh, and plenty of horses and cattle, 
 and barns full of grain. He is a great hunter, and a great 
 warrior. What does she want more ? 
 
 Then begins the lesson to the bride as to her conduct and 
 duties as a married woman. Respect to her mother-in-law is 
 especially inculcated. There is a pretty long list of her duties 
 recited to her ; enough to discourage any young bride. Then 
 another old woman intervenes, and describes all the miseries 
 of her married life. Then the bridegroom receives his instruc- 
 tions, and is told how he must treat his young wife. He is to 
 thrash her only as a last resource, and not till after some years 
 of marriage, and then only upon the back and shoulders, lest 
 the villagers should see the marks, and ask her if " she has 
 * The bow over the collar, part of the harness in Finland and Russia. 
 
7 HE KALEVALA. 141 
 
 been to the wars, if she has been engaged in battles, has she 
 been bitten by a wolf, or torn by a bear, or has she a wolf or a 
 bear for her husband ? 
 
 Then an old man explains how he got the better of his wife, 
 who was a termagant. He had only to show her the handle of 
 the rod, and she threw herself upon his neck, and called him 
 her " dear bird.'' 
 
 And now the bride bids a tender farewell to the family, to 
 the house, the fields, the dogs, cows, trees, etc., etc., and 
 mounts into her husband's sleigh. 
 
 The young girls and children cry after'her : 
 
 " Came a black bird from the forest, 
 
 "Stole our birdling, plucked our berry, 
 
 " Stole our fish, our beauteous salmon, 
 
 " Enticed by coin, by piece of money. 
 
 " Who will lead us to the cistern, 
 
 "Who to draw the needful water? 
 
 " Empty stand the pails and wash tubs, 
 
 " Motionless within the dwelling. 
 
 " Dirty are the floors and ceilings, 
 
 " Black the plates, and green the kettles." 
 
 The bride is then brought home to the house of her husband, 
 where she is received with the utmost attention. Her mother 
 and sisters-in-law vie with each other in flattering her. Ah the 
 neighbours are convoked, and the feasting lasts several days. 
 Wainamoinen sings one of his best runot, in which he compli- 
 ments the bride and bridegroom, the host and hostess, the 
 bridesmaid, and the coryphee^ or go-between as he may be 
 called, the man who had arranged the marriage, and afterwards 
 acted as best man. The singer then complimented the com- 
 
142 THE KALEVALÄ, 
 
 pany in general as the most "distinguished company he had 
 ever met with, and mounting his sleigh, returned home. The 
 description of this marriage and of the feasts which followed it, 
 fills several runot and brings us to the twenty-sixth. 
 
 It will be recollected that Lemminkainen, the "joyous 
 hero," was not invited to the marriage of his friend. This he 
 resented, and started for Pohjola to punish Louhi for the slight 
 He encountered many obstacles, but overcame them all by his 
 prowess and the force of his magic. The last and most dan> 
 gerous of his adventures was an encounter with a huge serpent. 
 The serpent barred his way, and it was impossible for him to 
 force it. Then he remembered the power of " knowledge 
 and told the serpent how he was produced, what was his 
 "ignoble origin." This was too much for the serpent, and he 
 uncoiled himself and glided off, leaving the way free. Hiawatha 
 should have tried the power of knowledge in his encounter 
 with the fiery serpents, 
 
 " Lying coiled across the passage, 
 
 " With their blazing crests uplifted, 
 
 " Beneath fiery fogs and vapours, 
 
 " So that none could pass beyond them." 
 The origin of the serpent, as told by Lemminkainen, is odd 
 enough. 
 
 " Spat Syiyatar"^' in the waters ; 
 
 " Seven long years the spittle wandered, 
 
 " Tossed by waves, then borne to mainland ; 
 
 " There 'twas found by nature's daughters, 
 
 " Asked its meaning, what its purpose. 
 
 " ' Monsters must engender monsters,' 
 
 " Thus the great Jumala said, 
 
 " 4f the breath of life I give it, 
 
 * The sorceress of the waters. 
 
THE KALE VAL A. 143 
 " ^ If I give it sight and hearing.' 
 " Hiisi heard the words eternal, 
 
 Came, and breath of Ufe he gave it. 
 " Born therefrom the baneful serpent, 
 "Born a reptile, black and noisome." 
 
 Lemminkainen having arrived at the house of Louhi in 
 Pohjola, was badly received. He thereupon provoked a fight, 
 and killed his host Pohjalainen. Louhi evoked against him a 
 whole army, and Lemminkainen wisely took to flight ; literally 
 so, for he changed himself into an eagle, and so flew home. 
 There he related his adventures to his mother, and she advised 
 him to take refuge on a distant island, where his father had 
 found refuge under similar circumstances. There he led a very 
 "joyous" life, until finally the men of the island rose against 
 him, and drove him away. He returned to his home, and 
 found that his house had been burned down, and that his 
 mother was wandering in the woods. He tells her what a 
 charming life he led on the island. 
 
 " Bright the trees with purple splendour, 
 " Glowed the fields with brighter blue, 
 " Branches of the pine were silver, 
 " Blossoms of the bushes gold. 
 " Flowed the honey in the streamlets, 
 " Rolled the eggs adown the mountain, 
 " Dried up pine trees shed a sweet drink, 
 " Milk the moss-clad spruces gave. 
 " Butter from the walls we gathered, 
 " Posts and fences gave us beer." 
 
 Lemminkainen now undertook another campaign against 
 Pohjola. He sailed with an old companion in arms. But the 
 queen of Pohjola sends Cold against him. Cold freezes in his 
 
144 THE KALEVALA, \ 
 
 ship, and very nearly disposes of him and his companion too. \ 
 But Lemminkainen remembers again the power of knowledge, \ 
 and tells Cold his origin, that he was born of " ignoble " 
 parents, that the serpent was his nurse, etc., etc., till Cold gets 
 enough of his family history, and only begs to be let off, 
 promising not to interfere again with the warriors. This was ] 
 agreed to. ■ 
 
 But Lemminkainen had lost his ship in the ice. He then | 
 lost himself in the desert, and so gave up his expedition and i 
 returned home. \ 
 
 The poem now brings another actor upon the scene, \ 
 Kullervo, the son of Kalervo. It appears that the tribes, or 
 families of Kalervo and Kutamo, had been at enmity for a long ; 
 time. Finally, the Kutamos exterminated the Kalervos, except I 
 an infant, whom they carried off with them. Finding him to \ 
 be a most precocious infant, and dreading what he might ] 
 become when he grew up, they tried to kill him, but in vain. | 
 They put him into a barrel and rolled him into the sea. After ; 
 three days they went to see if he was dead, and found him i 
 quietly sitting upon the waves fishing. Then they lighted an \ 
 immense fire and threw him into it. He played with the live j 
 coals. Then they hung him to an oak. After three days they : 
 found him cutting figures upon the bark. Then they gave it \ 
 up, and sold him to Ilmarinen. ; 
 
 Ilmarinen's wife, who, we may remember, was a Miss 
 Louhi, of Lapland, and at whose marriage we assisted, sent 
 Kullervo into the forest with the cattle, but for his dinner she ! 
 baked a loaf of rye bread and put a large stone in it. To ' 
 avenge himself, Kullervo changed the cattle into bears and 
 wolves, and drove them home. When Ilmarinen's wife went f 
 to the stable to milk them, they tore her to pieces. Kullervo 
 thereupon ran away, and thus apostrophizes his hard fate : 
 
THE KA LE VA LA. 145 
 
 Who did bear me, wretched orphan ? 
 
 Who begat me, wretched wanderer? 
 
 Others have a home to go to, 
 
 Others have a welcome shelter. 
 
 My abode it is the desert, 
 " The wilderness my only home. 
 " Cruel North wind is my hearth-stone, 
 
 Drenching rains my bath of vapor." 
 
 After many wanderings Kullervo found his mother, who had 
 after all escaped the massacre of the Kalervos with a part of 
 her family. She informs him that his sister has been lost in 
 the forest, and that she has searched for her in every direction, 
 but without success. 
 
 " Mothers most do weep their daughters, 
 " Mothers first do seek their lost ones. 
 " Like a bear I ranged the woodland, 
 " Like a marmot crossed the barrens. 
 " One day, two, and three I wandered, 
 
 Then upon a hill I mounted, 
 " My daughter called, my dear departed. 
 
 ' My child,' I cried, ' Oh ! daughter, darling !' 
 
 To my cries the hills responded, 
 " To my tears the marshes answered : 
 " ' Cease, oh, cease to call thy daughter, 
 ^' ' Cease with cries the air to trouble. 
 " ' She can ne'er this life revisit, 
 ^' ^ Never see her father's dwelling.' " 
 
 Kullervo remained a short time with his mother, but was 
 constantly getting into trouble. Finally he starts on the war- 
 path to avenge the slaughter of his tribe upon the Kutamos, 
 and exterminates them root and branch. Then, in a fit of 
 
146 THE KÄLEVALA, 
 
 despair and remorse for the many crimes he has committed, he 
 kills himself. But first he addresses his sword, and asks it 
 whether it would take pleasure in killing a man so full of 
 infamies. The sword "intelligently" replied : 
 
 " Why should I not the flesh devour, 
 " Flesh of man depraved and wicked, 
 " Drink his wicked blood with pleasure, 
 " Since I drink the blood of good men, 
 " Eat the flesh of those who're guiltless ? " 
 
 The episode of KuUervo carries us through the 37th 
 runo. 
 
 We now return to Ilmarinen, the famous blacksmith. 
 Having lost his wife, who was devoured by bears and wolves, 
 as we may remember, and wept bitterly for her, he concluded 
 to try his hand at forging a new one. For this purpose, he 
 collected a large quantity of gold and silver, and after several 
 unsuccessful experiments, forged a beautiful creature. But 
 she was cold, so dreadfully cold, that when he was near her he 
 was obliged to cover himself with blankets and bearskins. 
 Thereupon he decided to make her a present to Wainamoinen. 
 But Wainamoinen refused to accept her, telling his friend to 
 send her to Russia or Germany, where the " rich and illustrious 
 pretendents to her hand might dispute for her.'' It was not 
 for him, or any of his race, to run after " a golden woman, a 
 silver bride." Then he improved the occasion to give young 
 Finland a lecture upon the impropriety of marrying for 
 money. 
 
 Never, oh ! my sons beloved, 
 " Never heroes, full of valor, 
 " Whether rich or whether poor ye, 
 " Never while this life shall lengthen, 
 
THE KALEVALA. 147 
 
 " Never while the moon endureth, 
 
 Never seek a golden partner, 
 " Never seek a wife of silver. 
 " Gold can never, never warm ye. 
 
 Silver's cold, though bright it glitter." 
 
 Having had such bad luck with his two wives, Ilmarinen 
 returned to Pohjola in search of a third. Louhi refused to give 
 him her second daughter, and the girl herself did not wish to 
 succeed her sister. Ilmarinen thereupon carried her off, but 
 en route, he was not pleased with her conduct, and so changed 
 her into a gull. He had at first thought of killing her, but his 
 "intelligent" sword, understanding his threats, said to him, 
 that it "had not been forged to exterminate women, to kill 
 feeble creatures." 
 
 Returning home, Ilmarinen told Wainamoinen of the great 
 prosperity of Pohjola, and ascribed it to the Sampo he had 
 forged for Louhi. Wainamoinen proposed an expedition to 
 carry it off. Ilmarinen consented, but stipulated that they 
 should go by land. As they were mounting their horses they 
 heard a wailing voice from the sea shore. On going to ascer- 
 tain the cause, they found that it proceeded from Waina- 
 moinen's favorite warship, which did not wish to be left behind. 
 Wainamoinen asked it what it was crying about, whereupon the 
 ship " intelligently" replied : 
 
 As a young girl seeks a husband, 
 "Although she shares her father's home, 
 
 So the ship would ride the sea waves, 
 " Though still shut up in lofty pine tree. 
 " Other ships, though small, ignoble, 
 " Mingle in the bloody battle, 
 " See the savage play of broadsword. 
 
 L2 
 
148 THE KALEVA LA. 
 
 I was built for bloody battle, 
 Formed my keel of planks a hundred. 
 Yet I rot within the ship yard, 
 " Worms do eat my gaping broadsides, 
 " Birds build nests upon my mastheads^ 
 Croak the frogs on decks deserted. 
 Thousand, thousand times more glorious, 
 " Still to grow a pine on hill top, 
 ^' Still to be a tree on barrens, 
 " Where leaped the squirrel 'mid my branches, 
 " Bayed the bear hound 'round my deep roots." 
 This touched Wainamoinen's feelings. So he assured the 
 lamenting ship that it should go to the wars with him. He 
 left his horse and embarked with Ilmarinen. On their way 
 they met Lemminkainen, who joined them. 
 
 No particular incident marked the voyage for two days, but 
 on the third the vessel suddenly stuck fast. On looking over 
 the side, they found that she was aground on the back of an 
 enormous pike. Lemminkainen tried to kill the pike, but fell 
 overboard, and was with difficulty dragged into the boat by the 
 hair of his head. Ilmarinen then tried it, but broke his sword. 
 Then Wainamoinen killed the pike and released the ship. Of 
 his bones be made a harp, ^'a source of melody, a source of 
 eternal joy.'' Every part of the harp was constructed of the 
 pike, except the strings. These were plucked from the tail of 
 the courser of Hiisi, of whom we have heard before. All the 
 great players of Finland and Lapland attempted to play on this 
 harp; but without success. Then Wainamoinen took it, and 
 played with the same astounding results which attended the 
 performance of Orpheus. 
 
 "Wainamoinen touched the harp-strings — 
 "Every creature in the forest, 
 
THE KALE VA LA. 149 
 "Every beast that treads the woodland, 
 ^'On its velvet feet that boundeth, 
 " Hastes to Hsten to the harp-strmgs, 
 " To the music of the kantele. 
 " Leap the squirrels from the branches, 
 " Climb the ermines on the fences, 
 
 O'er the plains the elands bounded, 
 " And the lynxes purred with pleasure. 
 "And the wolf came from the marshes, 
 " And the bear has left his covert, 
 " Left his lair within the pine wood, 
 "Leans against the dwelling's door-post. 
 '''But the door-post yields beneath him — 
 ''Then he climbs the pine tree's branches, 
 "Climbs to listen to the kantele. 
 "All the birds that fly in mid-air, 
 " Fell like snow-flakes from the heavens — 
 
 " Flew to hear the minstrel's music. 
 
 " Th' eagle, in his lofty eyrie, 
 
 " Heard the chant of Wainamoinen ; 
 
 " Swift he left his unfledged young ones, 
 
 "Flies and perches near the minstrel. 
 
 "All the daughters^ of the aether, 
 
 " Nature's well-beloved daughters, 
 
 " Listened all with wrapt attention. 
 
 " Some were seated on the rainbow, 
 
 " Some upon a cloud of purple." 
 This beautiful description of the harp, and of the magical 
 effects of music, carries us through the forty-first runo. 
 
 In the forty-second runo our Finnish Argonauts reacli 
 Pohjola. Wainamoinen proposes to Louhi to divide the 
 Sampo. She refuses, and calls up her warriors. But Waina- 
 
ISO THE KALEVÄLA, 
 
 moinen takes his harp, and puts them into a sound sleep. 
 Then he sews up their eyeUds to ensure a long slumber. This 
 done, he carries off the Sampo. Everything goes pros- 
 perously on the return voyage for the first two days, but 
 then Lemminkainen, who appears to have been a noisy, 
 talkative fellow, and not able to hold his tongue, insists upon 
 singing, notwithstanding that Wainamoinen begged him not 
 to do so j and told him the sea was no place for singing, 
 to wait till they saw their homes and heard "the creaking 
 of their own doors." Lemminkainen sang, however, and 
 sang in so loud and discordant a voice that he frightened a 
 crane that was quietly " counting its toes " on an island some 
 miles off. The crane flew at once to Pohjola, and woke up 
 Louhi and her warriors. Louhi perceives that the Sampo 
 has been stolen, and awakes the fog (Ilotar), and the evil 
 spirit of the waters (Ikin-Jurso), and the storm, to destroy 
 our Argonauts. The fog settles down upon the sea, but 
 Wainamoinen cuts it in two with his sword, and disperses it. 
 Ikin-Jurso raises his ugly head, but Wainamoinen seizes him 
 by the ears, and makes him promise never to show himself 
 again in those waters. Then came the storm, which did much 
 damage and swept the kantele overboard. Ilmarinen became 
 seasick, and wished he had never come to sea, as many have 
 done both before and since his day. 
 
 " Perched upon a tree that rolleth, 
 
 " Seated on a bench that staggers. 
 Wind is now my only refuge. 
 Wave is now my sole protector.'' 
 But Wainamoinen conjures the winds and the waves, and the 
 storm subsides. 
 
 But Louhi had not done with them yet. She collected all 
 her warriors, embarked them, and followed the raiders. 
 
THE KALE VÄ LA. 1 5 1 
 
 Wainamoinen was equal to the emergency. He took from his 
 pocket a piece of flint, and a piece of dried toadstool, and 
 threw them overboard. They instantly formed a reef, and 
 Louhi's vessel ran on it, and was wrecked. Louhi was not to 
 be beaten in this way. She changed herself into an enormous 
 eagle, and caught her army up in her talons. Having thus 
 easily furnished them with transportation, always one of the 
 most difficult problems in military movements, she followed in 
 pursuit. Then ensued a lively fight. The eagle lighted on 
 top of the mast, and the vessel nearly capsized. The heroes 
 drew their swords, and cut at the eagle's talons ; but the 
 swords made no impression. A happy thought struck Waina- 
 moinen. He seized the tiller. What particular virtue there 
 was in the tiller I am unable to state, but its effects were sur- 
 prising and satisfactory. Wainamoinen smashed all the eagle's 
 talons except one little one, and the whole Lapland army fell 
 from her grasp into the ship and were killed, or into the sea 
 and were drowned. With the uninjured talon Louhi seized 
 the Sampo, and threw it overboard; and this is the reason 
 why the waters of Finland teem with fish, the Sampo brought 
 wealth to the waters. Some of the lighter portions floated 
 and were borne to land. Wainamoinen rejoiced at this, and 
 said that henceforth Suomi would prosper. Louhi overheard 
 this remark, and replied that she would see that it did not. 
 She should send against it cold and hail, and bears and wolves. 
 Wainamoinen replied : 
 
 " Powerless the Lapp to charm me, 
 
 Turjalainen"^' to destroy me ; 
 " Ukko only, Great Creator, 
 
 His hand only opes the portals ; 
 
 * Inhabitants of Turja (Upper Lapland). 
 
152 THE KALEVALA, 
 
 ^' Not the finger of a mortal, 
 Not the hand of envious mortal." 
 Wainamoinen missed his harp sorely. He told Ilmarinen to 
 forge him an immense oyster rake. The teeth were, like those 
 of the other rake we read of, 500 feet long, and the handle 
 2,500. With this rake he searched all the bays and inlets of 
 the coast for his lost harp, but in vain. As he was returning 
 from his fruitless search, low in spirits, and his hat on one side 
 of his head, he heard some one lamenting. On looking for 
 the cause he found a soHtary birch tree. 
 
 ^' Why weepest thou, birch tree beauteous ? 
 " Why shed tears, oh ! whitened girdle ? 
 " To the war thou hast not hastened, 
 " Hath not mixed in bloody battle." 
 
 The birch tree replied, and accounted for its sadness thus : 
 
 " Oft it happens, in the Spring time, 
 " Cruel children throng around me, 
 " Pierce me with their sharpened gimlets, 
 " Tap the life blood that supports me. 
 " Then in Summer come the shepherds, 
 
 Steal my white belt, make them scabbards, ' 
 " Make them drink bowls, make them baskets. 
 " Next the young girls throng around me, — 
 
 Me the oppressed, me the wretched — 
 " Of my twigs they make them bath-rods, 
 " Cut my branches for the hearth stone." 
 
 " Full of trouble is my poor life, 
 
 " Pale my face these days of suffering." 
 
 " Then the tempest brings fresh tortures ; 
 " Frost, it brings me bitter sufferings ; 
 
THE KALEVALÄ, 153 
 
 "Wind, my green pelisse it snatches j 
 " Cold, it steals my only covering. 
 " Exposed to all the taunts of Winter, 
 "Stands the solitary birch tree." 
 
 Wainamoinen consoled the intelligent birch tree, and told it 
 that he would make a new harp of it. This he did. He 
 strung it with the hair of a love-sick maiden. We may 
 imagine what plaintive sounds he must sometimes have drawn 
 from an instrument constructed of such lachrymose material. 
 But his first effort was of a different character. 
 
 " Wainamoinen touched his kantele — 
 " Shook the mountains, rocks they thundered, 
 " Waked the echoes, stones they floated, 
 " Danced the pine trees, leaped the birches. 
 
 " When he played within the forest, 
 " Bent the fir trees, pines saluted. 
 "When he played upon the meadows, 
 " Laughed the bushes, smiled the meadows ; 
 " And with joy the flowerets opened, 
 "And the young stalks nodded graceful. 
 
 With this we finish the 44th runo. 
 
 In the 45th, Louhi, having heard of the birth of nine children 
 in Hiiji's kingdom. Hades, named Pleurisy, Colic, Gout, Ulcer, 
 Cancer, Plague, &c., &c., sends them to Finland. The 
 people sicken and die in great numbers. But Wainamoinen 
 prepares vapor baths, and invokes the aid of Jumala, and cures 
 the sick, and drives away the diseases, shutting them up in a 
 hole in a rock in the mountains. And in this he played a 
 much nobler part than Hiawatha, who, under similar circum- 
 stances, sat down by his wife's bedside and folded his arms, and 
 let her die, and half the village with her. 
 
1 54 THE KA LEV AL A, 
 
 " Then he sat down still and speechless, 
 " On the bed of Minnehaha.'^ 
 
 ^' % % % is is 
 
 " With both hands his face he covered, 
 " Seven long days and nights he sat there, 
 " As if in a swoon he sat there, 
 " Speechless, motionless, unconscious 
 *^0f the daylight and the darkness." 
 
 But what did Wainamoinen do ? He prepared vapor 
 baths. 
 
 Wainamoinen poured the water, 
 " Poured the water soft as honey, 
 " Straight upon the heated pebbles, 
 
 And upon the hissing round stones." 
 
 Then he applied ointments. 
 
 Wainamoinen rubbed the sufferers. 
 Rubbed the wounds so sore and painful, 
 "With the balm of thousand flowers, 
 " Ointments made from healing wild herbs." 
 
 Louhi, furious at Wainamoinen's success in curing his people 
 of the diseases she had sent among them, let loose a huge 
 bear. Wainamoinen killed the bear. 
 
 The account of the killing of this bear is very curious. The 
 ancient Finns, while they hunted the bear for his skin, and his 
 fat and flesh, looked upon him as a powerful spirit^ to be pro- 
 pitiated in every manner. They never boasted of having killed 
 him, but assumed that he had met his death by accident. The 
 whole village turned out to meet him as he was brought in, and 
 received him with songs of honor. They invited him to enter 
 the house as an honored guest, they took him to the best room^ 
 flattering and caressing him. 
 
THE KALE V ALA. 155 
 
 After Wainamoinen had killed the bear, he addressed him 
 thus : 
 
 Golden cuckoo of the forest, 
 " With the robe so rich and beauteous, 
 Pride of forest, famous light-foot. 
 Leave thy cold and lonely dwelling, 
 " Come among the haunts of warriors." 
 As he approaches the village, he is met by the people, who 
 ask him, is it a marmot, or a lynx, he has killed ? 
 It is no lynx, 'tis the ' Illustrious,' 
 'Tis the vapor of the forest, 
 " 'Tis the ^ old man ' comes among us, 
 " Covered with his splendid fur robe. 
 " Welcome Otso, welcome sweet-foot." 
 After going through many other curious ceremonies and in- 
 vocations, they cut him up, and have a great feast on his flesh. 
 
 The people then ask where was Otso " born, is he of 
 ignoble " origin ? 
 Wainamoinen replies : — 
 
 " Otso was not born a beggar, 
 " Was not born upon the rushes. 
 " In the regions of the moonland, 
 ^' On the shoulders of Otawa,* 
 Mid the daughters of the aether, 
 And the children of Dame Nature." 
 The whole of this runo, the 46th, is very curious and inte- 
 resting. 
 
 We are now approaching the end of the poem, the 50th rune. 
 
 Louhi, as a last resource, steals the sun and moon from the 
 heavens, and locks them up in a cave. In the absence of light 
 everything suffers, even fire disappears. Jumala, the Creator, 
 ^ The great bear. 
 
156 THE KÄLEVALÄ. 
 
 searches for the sun and moon, but cannot find them. Then 
 he creates a spark of fire, and gives it in charge of one of the 
 daughters of the air, to construct a new sun and moon. She is 
 careless and lets it drop, whereupon it ravages the country, 
 burning up miles upon miles of forest and destroying many 
 houses, cattle, etc. Wainamoinen goes in search of the spark 
 of fire, and, after many strange adventures, seizes it, shuts it up 
 in a copper vessel, and brings it to the village, where once 
 more they have fire in their houses. 
 
 But though they now have fire in Finland, the sun and the 
 moon are still shut up in the cave. 
 
 Sun no longer shone in heaven, 
 " Moon no longer lit the landscape. 
 " Died the grain upon the ploughed land, 
 " Died the flocks in pain and suffering, 
 " Died the birds that float in aether, 
 " Died e'en men amid the darkness. 
 " Knew the fish the depths of waters, 
 " Eagles knew the paths of mid air, 
 " Men knew not when day had risen, 
 " Could not tell when night descended." 
 
 Wainamoinen learns by magic where the sun and moon are 
 hidden, and goes in search of them, but without success. He 
 slays the whole army of Louhi, but fails to open the doors of 
 the cave. He returns, and asks Ilmarinen to forge for him 
 keys and powerful tools, with which to force open the huge 
 copper doors, and deliver the sun and moon. Ilmarinen sets 
 to work. Louhi in the shape of a vulture comes to the smithy, 
 and asks him what he is making. He replies that he is forging 
 an iron collar to bind the old woman of Pohjola to the side of 
 
THE KA LE V ALA. 157 
 
 the mountain. This frightens Louhi. She goes home and re- 
 leases the sun and moon. Wainamoinen is os^erjoyed to see 
 them once more, and apostrophizes them as follows : — 
 
 Hail beauteous mopn, round and brilliant ! 
 " Golden sun who lights and warms us ! 
 " Golden cuckoo smiles through aether, 
 
 Silver dove through plains of azure. 
 
 Rise then, rise each golden morning, 
 
 Bring us health, enrich our pastures. 
 
 Rise in richness, rise in glory — 
 
 Setting, shed soft joy among us." 
 
 This story of the disappearance of the sun and moon has 
 evidently grown out of some exceptionally dark and gloomy 
 season, when all nature suffered from the absence of light and 
 heat. Perhaps an eclipse may have had something to do with 
 inspiring this description. 
 
 But old things were passing away. Paganism, with its never- 
 ending contest between the powers of light and the powers of 
 darkness, was approaching its end. Christianity had appeared. 
 
 And now there follows a very strange version of the birth 
 of our Saviour, with which Paganism disappears, and the poem 
 ends. 
 
 The Virgin Marjatta gives birth miraculously to a child. 
 She was impregnated by a wild strawberry. She is driven out 
 from her father's house, and from the village where she dwells, 
 and takes refuge in a lonely stable upon the mountains, where 
 her child is born. The humid breath " of the horses furnishes 
 the warmth and moisture, which the Finnish women generally 
 find in a vapor bath under similar circumstances. But scarcely 
 is the child born, when it disappears — an allusion, perhaps, to 
 
iS8 THE KÄLEVALA. 
 
 the story of the Saviour being left behind in Jerusalem. The 
 mother goes in search of him. A star meets her, and she asks 
 the star where her child is. The star does not know, the moon 
 does not know. Finally, the sun tells her. She finds him half 
 buried in a marsh and drags him out. She then seeks for 
 some one to baptize him, but Wirokannos, to whom she applies, 
 and who evidently is in some sense a type of the ancient Jewish 
 priest, refuses to baptize him until he has been examined and 
 judged. He is therefore brought before Wainamoinen, repre- 
 senting probably the Jewish Council, and is condemned by him 
 to be put to death. Thereupon the child, two weeks old, 
 speaks, and tells Wainamoinen that his sentence is unjust, and 
 that he of all persons has no right to condemn another, on 
 account of the sins and crimes of his own youth. Whereupon 
 Wirokanno sbaptizes the child, and proclaims him king and ab- 
 solute sovereign of Carelia. Wainamoinen feels that his hour 
 has come, and departs. 
 
 But where did he go ? He went where Hiawatha followed 
 four centuries later, under similar circumstances. When the 
 Jesuit missionaries reached the Mississippi, preaching Christianity 
 to the Redskins, Hiawatha embarked in his canoe, and 
 
 Westward, westward, Hiawatha 
 Sailed into the fiery sunset. 
 Sailed into the purple vapors. 
 Sailed into the dusk of evening. 
 
 Wainamoinen built a beautiful boat of copper, and launched 
 her upon the sea. Then he sailed to the Western horizon. 
 There he tied up his boat, and there he remains to this day. 
 
 Wainamoinen launched his vessel. 
 Sailed across the stormy billows, 
 
DOBELN ÄT JUUTÄS. 159 
 Soon he gained th' horizon distant, 
 Gained the o'erhanging vault of heaven. 
 
 There he checked his vessel's motion, 
 Rested in his bark of copper. 
 But he left his magic kantele, 
 Left his magic harp melodious, 
 For a joy for aye to Finland, 
 To sing her sons runot sublime. 
 
 DOBELN AT JUUTAS.^^ 
 
 — Runeberg, 
 
 The parson spoke out 3 " A heathen is Döbeln^ 
 And for ever cast away if he dies. 
 
 " I came to warn him, to comfort in trouble, 
 A moment he hears, and silently lies, 
 
 " But then he calls out, sitting up in his bed. 
 
 And Hurn out the priest/ to his servant he said; 
 And take thou good care no more he slips by. 
 
 " What strange language is this for one who nears death ! 
 
 " His doom is his own when he draws his last breath. 
 Both as man and priest, my duty did I." 
 
 So spoke the parson at his rich midday meal, 
 As at the table he sat in his state. 
 
 And then heaved a sigh for poor Dobeln's soul's weal, 
 As a second cut of good beef he ate. 
 
 But on his hard bed worn with pain Döbeln lies. 
 
 And his breast heaves hard, and with flames burn his eyes^ 
 
 * A victory of the Finns in their last war with Russia. 
 
1 6o D OBELN A T JUUTAS. 
 
 And hot fever's flushes redden him, see. 
 
 A late battle fought, his troops had come west, 
 For two days and nights they had been without rest, 
 While he himself came to Ny-Karleby. 
 
 He feels his pulses' hot throb, but in his mind, 
 
 A flame than that more consuming he bears ; 
 His eyes wander restless, and in them we find, 
 
 Deeper disquiet than fever e'er wears. 
 He watched each minute as it passed slowly by, 
 Seemed to listen, to hope, then anxiously sigh. 
 
 And on the door very oft fell his eyes. 
 
 It quietly opened, there entered the place, 
 A young man with a most intelligent face. 
 
 And to his young guest then loud Döbeln cries : 
 
 Doctor, in this old world shams play a great part, 
 
 " Freethinker I am called, and always have been ; 
 
 But for two causes I believe in your art, 
 
 " For my broken head, and my friend Bjerken. 
 
 What you did order that therefore I've taken, 
 *'Lain here andsuflered, alone, half-forsaken. 
 
 " Clear off those phials, there on my table ; 
 " I know well the laws of science you follow. 
 
 But if they bind me here to-day and to-morrow, 
 " Break them all, to go forth I am able." 
 
 ^' I will, will be well, there's no more to be said, 
 " I must get up though I lay in my tomb. 
 Hark there, listen, I hear those guns in my bed, 
 " Perhaps they decide my brave army's doom ; 
 
DOBELN AT JUUTAS. i6i 
 
 I must get there before we are all beaten ; 
 " If the foe holds the roads, Aldercreutz taken, 
 
 " What will be the fate my army must meet ! 
 
 No, doctor, no, think of some medicine, man, 
 " Medicine that to-morrow makes me ill as it can, 
 
 " But for to-day sets me up on my feet." 
 
 The young doctor serious heard this command. 
 
 But soon a light shone on his noble face. 
 Then gently he placed on the table his hand. 
 And swept it pf all in one moment's space. 
 " Now, General, 'tis not my art keeps you down." 
 Then a smile took the place of Dobeln's dark frown. 
 And he sprang up, though tottering and weak — 
 " Thanks, thanks, my young friend, now a kiss on your brow^ 
 You have understood me, none have until now — 
 " You are a man, and a man 'tis I seek." 
 
 Already at Juntas the cannon were still. 
 
 And death has in triumph reaped his first field. 
 Our army was spread o'er the plain and the hill, 
 
 Expecting but death, though never to yield. 
 For the foe's first attack had scarce been repelled, 
 And Kosatschoffski on the field that he held, 
 
 To crush us the next time was fully bent. 
 In stern silence we stood at that threat'ning sight, 
 As when a storm-cloud that has disappeared quite, 
 
 More threatening still returns whence it went. 
 
 Where now is the man our thin ranks to gather, 
 . Relic from the days when vict'ries were won ! 
 
 Of honor, of skill, of tried faith and valor, 
 
 Our men have plenty, of leaders they've none. 
 
 M 
 
i62 DOBELN ÄT JUUTAS, 
 
 The man who to us hope in time of need brought, 
 And who erst in a hundred fierce battles fought, 
 
 Who led his brave Ljömeborgska troops on, 
 Shall not now see them vainly draw their last breath, 
 Shall not see his vet'rans go calmly to death, 
 
 For chance leads them now, with him all is done. 
 
 We forget not, oh, valiant Eek you were there. 
 
 You who so often had battle's game played. 
 You whose bold heart was ever ready to dare, 
 
 And over whose fate loud wailings we made. 
 For you, bold Eek, and of your friends the brave band. 
 Were accustomed to fight, but not to command. 
 
 That art was his, it was seen in his glance, 
 You stood there steady but dumb, with your drawn blade, 
 Kothen calmly stood, and still Grönhagen staid. 
 
 Swore Konoff alone, and fiercely flamed Schantz. 
 
 Hark, listen, hark, that loud hurrah on the right. 
 
 What man comes on horseback, tell us who can ? 
 Hark, that storm of loud shouts, that cry of delight. 
 
 Burst forth in joy, running from man to man. 
 Hurrah, hurrah, now far over field and hill. 
 That swelling sound rolls, gains strength as it rolls still, 
 
 Of voices an av'lanche bursts down the dale ; 
 Ha ! he comes, he is here, 'tis he, alone he. 
 The little man comes, but his bound forehead see — 
 
 The old, the brave, the wise general, hail ! 
 
 Silence he orders, as he speaks his voice hear, 
 His men whom battle had scattered fall in — 
 
 Then, as he rides on, his troops eager draw near, 
 Soon order reigns where disorder had been. 
 
DOBELN AT JUUTAS, 
 
 And now in close lines flash the arms of the host, 
 Though tattered, blackened, and rag-clad were the most. 
 
 Impatient, eager, they stand in their lines — 
 No longer is death, the sole thing in their brain, 
 Of success they now dream, a victory to gain. 
 
 Another, changed, hopeful spirit he finds. 
 
 But Döbeln rode slowly along the whole front, 
 
 Which he had already made strong and bold. 
 His eye noted all, as was ever his wont, 
 
 Marked ev'ry troop, ev'ry man, as of old. 
 His glance fell on all, upon Finn and on Swede, 
 And in his knit brow his great plans you could read, 
 
 And rarely did that stern brow unbend ; 
 Yet oft his eyes grew very mild on that day, 
 And oft his grim features kind greeting did say. 
 
 And light up at the sight of some veteran friend. 
 
 There was a brave man. Von Kothen, in your troop, 
 
 He was corp'ral number seven, Standar, 
 And he stood there a torn shoe upon one foot. 
 
 While the other foot, it bled, and was bare. 
 When Döbeln came near to the old man he said. 
 With a sad look, and with his hand on his head. 
 
 With pity gazing on the old man's plight — 
 You were with me," he said, " so my mem'ry is. 
 In the plain of Lappos, at Kauhajokis, 
 " Is this the reward you've gained for that fight ? " 
 
 My General," so the veteran repfied, 
 
 " See here this musket, you gave it to me. 
 The barrel's without fault, and the lock's my pride, 
 
 " Gives fire as the first day — that's all need be. 
 
 M 2 
 
i64 DOBELN AT JUUTAS, 
 
 ^' I am badly clad, but I am like the rest, 
 
 " One is not the worse, when one is with the best ; 
 
 "And, General, clothes are" not men, I suppose. 
 " With shoes or without shoes, to me is all one, 
 " Take you only care, that we stand, and don't run, 
 
 " And with, without shoes, all's one for my toes." 
 
 No more Döbeln said, but he raised up his hat. 
 
 Saluted the soldier with his feet bare. 
 To Brakel's troop rode, and he stopped then thereat. 
 
 For the old drummer Nord, he saw with them there. 
 He was an old man, drummer since eighty-eight. 
 In his arms, in his hands the stiffness was great. 
 
 And with pain could he now beat as he'd done'on his drum. 
 Rare indeed was it he appeared on parade, 
 
 But when blood was to flow, in the ranks he staid. 
 Turning to him the General begun : 
 
 " Comrade, have you not yet enough had of drums ? 
 
 " Is there no one at hand younger than you ? 
 " You have stood here all day, with your stiffened thumbs, 
 
 " Tell me, what can you now with your drum do? " 
 
 Half-vexed he heard these words that veteran bold — 
 " My Gen'ral, 'tis true I have grown very old, 
 
 " The roll-call of boys, I must now discard. 
 " But I have strength left in my arms, in my thumbs, 
 " Give order, like Armifelt, ^ Forward, march, beat drums,' 
 
 " His drum he'll beat slow, but Nord will beat hard." 
 
 At these words Lappos' hero held out his hand, 
 To the man come down from brave Armfelt's day. 
 
 And so he rode on, and came soon to the band, 
 Where Gyrnbogel's men he found on his way. 
 
DOBELN ÄT JUUTAS. 
 
 There stood a young man lately come from the plough, 
 But his cheek once ruddy was very pale now ; 
 The General halted, and sharp his voice grew ; 
 
 " Who art thou peasant, and what is it you fear ? 
 
 " Have you not yet learned to despise death here ? 
 " Your cheek is snow-white, a coward are you?" 
 
 But the young man stepped forth at the Gen'rals behest, 
 
 And his gray jacket he oped where he stood, 
 A fresh, open, wound there appeared on his breast. 
 And forth from the wound at once gushed the blood. 
 " This I got, General, in battle here late, 
 And my loss of blood was perhaps very great. 
 
 And therefore my cheeks they very pale grew ; 
 But I can yet add one to our small brave band, 
 'Tis true I lay fallen, but now I can stand, 
 " For I have gained fresh strength since I saw you." 
 
 To Dobeln's proud eye thereupon rose a tear — 
 
 " Come on, my brave men, to battle, I say ! 
 " I have seen enough, delay only I fear, 
 
 " The fight we shall win, my day 'tis to-day. 
 " Ride, Adjutant, ride, for full ripe is the grain, 
 " Give order in the wood, the hill, and the plain — 
 
 " The whole line advance, and rush on the foe — 
 " Not here, over there, our swords we will prove, 
 " With such troops as these all a world I could move, 
 
 " Wait not the attack, to attack we will go." 
 
 Then along the whole line was heard the glad call, 
 " To vict'ry forward, to victory or to death." 
 Like thunder was Standar, your voice above all. 
 
 And Nord beat his drum hard with his spent breath ; 
 
i66 DOBELN AT JUUTAS, 
 
 And the youth with the wound the bullet had tore, 
 Tramped again o'er the plain yet red with his gore. 
 
 And foremost rode Döbeln on his stallion gray — 
 And when evening's shades had sunk o'er the strand, 
 Russia's power was broken, and free was the land — 
 
 Relieved Adlercreutz, and opened the way. 
 
 And the hosts of the battle long had passed on, 
 
 Far from the place where the foeman first ran — 
 But on the red field where the battle was won, 
 
 Stood in the calm of the evening a man. 
 By his side was fast tethered his war horse gray. 
 He stood there on the site of that bloody fray, 
 
 'Mid the shattered dead on the blood-stained earth. 
 Long, long there was heard the victorious shout, 
 And the lone man stood, gazed aloft, gazed about, 
 
 And then his pale lips to these words gave birth. 
 
 " One duty is done, victorious our side — 
 
 " But one thing is left, and that is mine too ; 
 " Free-thinker I am called, and this is my pride, 
 
 " Free-born I am, and 'tis free thought I woo. 
 " Yet I know that wherever my thoughts have flown, 
 " Thee alone I have found. Thee only have known — 
 
 " For life and death come alone at Thy call. 
 " Yes, to Thee I look up in those starry skies — 
 " Here, where only is death, with the dead's closed eyes, 
 
 " Can I, without witness, thank Thee for all." 
 
 " You gave to me fatherland back from the brink 
 " Of blank despair, when we cared not to live. 
 
 "You see all. Oh ! my God, search out what I think, 
 " And see if I value all that you give. 
 
DOBELN AT JUUTAS, 
 Let slaves before their gods crawl low in the dust, 
 " I cannot crawl, but stand with raised brow I must. 
 
 " I ask for no fee, no reward I would sha^e — 
 " I would o ily most gladly stand before Thee, 
 " With my burning heart, with eyes upraised to see — 
 " This is my man's cry, it is my sole prayer." 
 
 " You gave me skill to guide the battle's fierce fray, 
 
 From field to field in swi^^t conquering course. 
 " My body is weak, and my limbs soon give way, 
 " How could I have won with only my force ? 
 Yes, I have conquered — hard beset and enclosed, 
 " Finland sees a way to escape from her foes — 
 
 A path to great victoiies opened through me. 
 *^ Yet 'tis through Thee only, we are saved all — 
 " My God, my brother, by whatever name I may ca^i, 
 " Thou vict'ry-glver, I thank only Thee.'' 
 
 So spake the ma'i; and dropped his eyes to the earth, 
 
 He mounted his horse, and rode far away. 
 iVnd fast the day fell, and the sad night gave birth, 
 
 To tears gently dropped on the dead of the day. 
 Thy fate who can foretell, oh, dear fatherland 1 
 Hidden it is by divine wisdom's command — 
 
 And good fortune or bad, no one can say. 
 But whether you rejoice, or whether you mourn, 
 Among all your glorious days, heaven-born, 
 
 Remember this, remember Dobeln's day 
 
 St Petersburg, May ^Pth, 1882. 
 
LIEUT. ZIEDEN. 
 
 — Ricneherg, 
 
 IT was the brave Lieutenant Zieden, 
 A way of his own had he. 
 He ahvays went in advance of his men : 
 Forward ! my gallant Wasa-boys, 
 " Not a man behind must be." 
 
 Foremost, all danger to meet, he went, 
 
 In his steps his people. tread. 
 God help the man who lazy steps bent. 
 Whene'er his voice the word rang out, 
 
 And " Hurrah, forward," he said. 
 
 So he taught them, as all people say, 
 
 His brave little soldier band ; 
 Manoeuvre and drill were not in his way, 
 " Close up quick in my steps, my men " — 
 
 This was his only command. 
 
 And forward he looked, looked not behind, 
 When danger there was in sight, 
 
 Hoping close-by his soldiers to find — 
 
 Rarely enough behind did look, 
 Before he was in the fight. 
 
 And then as soon as he met the foe. 
 He began to cut and to strike — 
 
 Then looked he to see how his men go, 
 
 His trusty, his loved Wasa-boys, 
 If they're up with sword and pike. 
 
LIEUT. ZIEDEN. 
 
 If it were that he found by his side, 
 
 All of his brave company, 
 Then he was pleased, and then aloud cried, 
 * Hurrah, what a splendid manoeuvre, 
 " Now are we masters, are we." 
 
 But if not, the foe sprang he to face, 
 
 To the fight went without men — 
 ' God forgive all, but such a disgrace ! 
 ^ Like toads they must have come on. 
 For they are behind again.'' 
 
 His first command when the war begun. 
 
 Was a troop of fifty men. 
 But fighting oft they down had run, 
 With twenty Wasa-boys only. 
 
 He joined with the army then. 
 
 But be it with more, be it with less. 
 
 That fact be dwelt not upon, 
 But his old way he followed with zest, 
 ^ Close up quick in my steps, my men, 
 " Now all is in speed, come on." 
 
 It was the battle of Vista Bridge, 
 
 The last one that he was in. 
 They saw all depend as they looked from a ridg 
 Fahlander, Malm, and Duncker, 
 
 How quickly the banks they win. 
 
 There stood Tutschkoff with a thousand men. 
 
 Six hundred only were we, 
 ^ Form in three columns, and forward then," 
 Colonel Fahlander cried out. 
 Who will be first of the three ? " 
 
LIEUT. ZIEDEN, 
 
 These words he heard. Lieutenant Zieden, 
 " Yes, indeed, soon we shall see, 
 "Forward, double quick," he said, to his men, 
 Hurrah, my brave Wasa-boys, 
 "The swiftest my man is he." 
 
 'Twas not the first time, the tenth 'ivvas not. 
 
 He spoke to his people so, 
 But never before with a pace so hot, 
 Blindly, on the enemy's ranks 
 
 Had his people seen him go. 
 
 Before one of them could reach the ground, 
 
 Three wounds he had, mortal quite ; 
 Then his strength failed, and then he looked round. 
 Looked for help, and he wished to see, 
 How bravely his fellows fight. 
 
 He sank to the earth, looked far and wide, 
 
 'Twas witchery, was it not ? 
 His corporal only he saw by his side, 
 His sole comrade the corporal was. 
 
 Of the rest not a glimpse he got. 
 
 The columns came up, quite near they come, 
 He looked on them as he lay ; 
 " In their ranks, I shall perhaps, see some," 
 In vain he looked, not one was there, 
 And then his patience gave way. 
 
 " Now all the others vicf ry acclaim, 
 
 " Not one of my men I find. 
 " May God forgive all, but what a shame ; 
 " Like to toads they must have come up, 
 
 " For all are again behir d." 
 
LIEUT. ZIEDEN. 
 
 These hard words his old corporal heard, 
 He opened his dying eyes ; 
 " Hold on, Lieutenant, say no such word, 
 " It is not mete to speak of ' shame,' 
 " You led a brave troop that dies." 
 
 " God grant that ?U had i ashed on as m 
 
 " Then had so many not died. 
 " But to the last man fallen we be, 
 " For foremost were our Wasa-boys, 
 
 " And drew all their fire our side." 
 
 " You ne'er, Lieutenant, one rear glance threw, 
 " Since ' forward ! ' the word you said \ 
 
 ''Your voice we heard and we followed you, 
 
 '' Not a man then lingered behind, 
 " Till he sank on honor's bed." 
 
 Then the lieutenant sat up with zest, 
 
 On the wet red sand he sat ; 
 His face shone bright, and his wounded breast 
 Proudly heaved in the moment of death, 
 
 And he swung his old worn hat. 
 
 " And did they all with honored wounds d^'e, 
 
 " Before any other had passed ? 
 " And were they all in my steps close by ? 
 " Hurrah ! what a splendid manoeuvre, 
 
 '' Now die we masters, at last." 
 
THE CLOUD'S BROTHER. 
 
 — Runebergs 
 
 Deep in the forest lay the lone homestead, 
 Far from the village, far from all highways, 
 Where, since the autumn warfare had ravaged. 
 No foe had as yet discovered the dwelling, 
 No strangers' foot trod the path that led to it. 
 Of blood, of battle, spoke only the raven, 
 • Croaking his dirge amid the red cloud tops, 
 The kite sitting gorged on the lone pine tree, 
 Or the wolf, as he skulked to his covert. 
 Reeking his jaws with the blood of the fallen. 
 
 Sad in the cottage, close to the table, 
 One winter's evening sat the host, silent. 
 Resting from labor, from the week's toiling — 
 Pressed were his elbows on the pine table. 
 Bedded his brow in the palm of his right hand, 
 Wandered his dark eyes, filled with sad thinking. 
 No one observed him, no one had noticed. 
 Neither his foster son, neither his daughter. 
 Inmates with him alone of the cottage. 
 Hand within hand, and arms round each other. 
 Head bent to head, they sat mute and happy, 
 Peace was within them, silence around them. 
 Lasted the silence yet some few minutes^ 
 Broken then by the voice of the old man. 
 Singing he reached but the ears of his hearers. 
 One understood his purpose and meaning. 
 
THE CLOUD'S BROTHER. 173 
 " Born is the bear the king of the forest, 
 " Pines grow to be the pride of the desert, 
 " Children of men to strength and to greatness, 
 " Or to vile misery who can foretell us ? 
 
 One winter's night a boy sought the cottage, 
 " Unknown, untamed, storm-tost, like a wild bird. 
 " Shining his brow through a cap that's in tatters, 
 " Shoeless the feet that shine thro' the snowflakes, 
 " Gleaming his breast beneath a torn jacket. 
 " * Who art thou ? Whence comest, waif of the forest ?' 
 " ' Ask of the rich, with home and with father. 
 " * Winds perchance blow from the home that I come from, 
 " ' Clouds dare I call only my brothers. 
 
 ' Snowflake I am on the foot of the Midnight, 
 " ' Which he stamps off, as he enters the cottage.' 
 " Snow did not melt from the foot of the Midnight, 
 " Cloud's Brother went not forth with the tempest, 
 " In the cottage remained, and grew up to manhood. 
 " Unnoticed came, and went he the first year, 
 " But in the second, felled he the forest, 
 " Next, slew the bear that preyed on the cattle. 
 " Where now is his fame, where his great glory ? 
 " Beyond that of others, dear to this household ? 
 " Hope of his father, where has it vanished ? 
 " Th' old man sitting afar in his cottage, 
 
 Longs sore, and yearns for news of the battle ; 
 " Saved is the land, or fallen for ever ? 
 " Cries of the vulture fall on a deaf ear, 
 " Speech of the eagle, he knows not its meaning, 
 " Strangers can bring no news to the desert, 
 
 While the bold youth who now should supply them, 
 " Cares but for news from the heart of a maiden." 
 
174 THE CLOUDS BROTHER. 
 
 Sudden the whirlwind strikes the still waters, 
 Swift as an arrow cleaving their calm depths. 
 Quiet the hill sides, sleeping the flowers, 
 Pine trees are silent, firs without motion, 
 Nature all wrapt in the stillness of summer, 
 Only the waters are seething and boiHng. 
 So struck the shaft the heart of the list'ner. 
 Each word drove from his bosom the life-blood. 
 Silent he sat absorbed, near the maiden, 
 Seem-ed to sleep before slept the others. 
 But long ere the dawn painted the orient, 
 Went out unseen, unnoticed and vanished. 
 
 Morning has come to two in the cottage, 
 Sabbath meal spread out, two only shared.it. 
 Noontide arrived, the third one yet absent. 
 Cloudless was still the brow of the old man, 
 Tearless were still the eyes of his daughter. 
 Evening's meal served, untouched and unnoticed. 
 Neither lay down, to dream of the loved one. 
 
 Passed a few minutes, short as the shower, 
 
 Which bursting from storm-clouds, flies in a moment; 
 
 Gently then lifted his voice the father. 
 
 Striving to soothe the fears of his daughter. 
 " Far is the village, distant the hamlet, 
 " Swollen the streams, and no bridges span them, 
 " Rocks block the pathway, deep are the marshes ; 
 " Parting a youth at dawn of the morning, 
 " Scarce can return ere evening has fallen." 
 
 Not heeding his words sad sat his daughter, 
 
 A flower closing its petals at nightfall. 
 
 What were her thoughts, she told not her father. 
 
THE CLOUD'S BROTHER. 
 
 Silent, however, she sat but a moment, 
 Long as the flowers awaiting the dew drops, 
 When clear is ihe sky and evening has fallen. 
 Softly the tears fell down on her bosom — 
 Bending her graceful head, sang she so sweetly — 
 When heart hath met heart, poor are all riches, 
 One thinks not of earth, not e'en of one's parents. 
 More than wide worlds^ is in one embrace folded, 
 More than all heaven, the eyes of the loved one. 
 ' More than a mother's, father's stern bidding, 
 
 * Is heard in the softest breath of the loved one. 
 ' Stronger than love, where And we a power ? 
 
 ' Where is the charm binds lover so closely ? 
 
 * Torrents he crosses, as crosses the wild duck, 
 ' Mountains he climbs on wings of the eagle ; 
 
 ' And though expected only at evening, 
 
 ' Long before noon he knocks at the cottage." 
 
 Scarce had the old man heard the sad singing. 
 Stricken with fear, with anxious thoughts stricken, 
 Mute he went forth to seek the lost wanderer. 
 Dim was the pathway traced thro' the forest. 
 Sunrise had gilt the tops of the pine trees, 
 Ere the sad father reached the first dwelling. 
 
 Empty it seemed, deserted, in ruins. 
 
 Scarred tree on heath that fire has blasted, 
 
 So stood the homestead lately so smiling. 
 
 Lonely its mistress sat in the cottage, 
 
 Bent o'er the cradle where slept her baby ; 
 
 Started in terror when the door opened, 
 
 As birds that hear the sound of the bullet, 
 
 Start in affright from the branch of the birch tree. 
 
176 THE CLOUnS BROTHER, 
 
 But quickly to joy turned her wild terror, 
 Soon as the old man entered the cottage. 
 Swiftly she ran, and his hand took in her's. 
 And tears streaming down her pale cheeks, she cried, 
 " Hail, oh ! my father, hail to thee father, 
 " Blessed be the steps that hither have led thee, 
 " Blessed be the steps of him, whom thou broughs't up, 
 
 Shield, protector, of all the afflicted. 
 " Now sit and rest thy limbs that are weary, 
 " Drink in with joy the tale I can tell thee. 
 " Cruel the war has raged since the autumn, 
 " Friend, like the foe, has wasted the country, 
 " Sparing but those they found without weapons. 
 " Yesterday only troops joined the army. 
 
 Here they joined issue, here fought the battle — 
 " Lost was the battle, foemen victorious ; 
 " Scattered like leaves were then the survivors, 
 " Leaves that are blown by wild winds of Autumn. 
 " Then raged wild passions, force and brutality, 
 " Shoreless as spring floods that cover the meadows. 
 " Spared they then no man, with, without, weapons. 
 " Here rolled the flood on yesterday morning. 
 And while the church bells summoned to service, 
 Ruined our cottage, wasted our homestead. 
 " Let me not dwell on these scenes of horror ; 
 
 Bound lay my husband 'neath his own roof tree, 
 " Blood flowed remorseless, outrage had triumphed, 
 " No help could reach us, whence could it come from ? 
 Quivering I stood, greedy arms round me, 
 Glared at as if by eyes of the wild beasts. 
 " Rescue then came, as the storm comes from heaven ; 
 " Cloud's Brother burst thro' the door of the cottage, 
 
THE CLOUnS BROTHER. 
 
 Struck down the foe, who fell or fled swiftly. 
 
 Sitting I am in this ruined dwelling, 
 
 Poor as the sparrows that build in its thatching — 
 
 Yet happy, as erst 'mid riches, I'll welcome, 
 
 Husband, deliverer, return they but safely, 
 
 For to the village, chasing the foemen. 
 
 Who fled fast away, closely they followed." 
 
 When the old man had heard her last tidings, 
 He rose to his feet as if he had rested. 
 Dark was his eye, all clouded with sorrow. 
 Urged to stay longer, he took the known pathway, 
 Reached the far village, house of the pastor, 
 While yet the sunset gilt the wide forest, 
 Hoping 'gainst hope, but anxious and frightened. 
 Wasted the dwelling lay like a bare island, 
 Seen in a lake an evening in winter. 
 Near the cold hearth-stone sat the old servant, 
 Soldier in youth, now aged, decrepit. 
 When the old servant saw the door open. 
 Saw his old friend come pale and exhausted, 
 Rising to meet him, suflering but cheerful, 
 " Light remains yet to us useless old men, 
 " When our bold youth our footsteps outspeeding, 
 " Show there's yet strength and manhood among us. 
 " Godly the service to-day has been done here 3 
 The child in his cradle who now has seen it, 
 " Years hence shall to his grandchild relate it. 
 " Greedy as wolves fell on us the foemen, 
 
 Bloodshed and ashes marked every footstep. 
 " Sufferings of others speak not now of them, 
 " But though not spoken ne'er be forgotten. 
 
 N 
 
1 78 THE CLOUDS BROTHER. 
 
 "When gorged with blood the soldiers had left us, 
 
 " Stragglers and robbers still staid behind them. 
 
 " Then overflowed the cup full of misery. 
 
 " Tied was our pastor 'tween two wild horses, 
 
 " Ordered on foot to march 'twixt the riders ; 
 
 " Soon his weak hands, his weak knees would fail him, 
 
 " Prone in the dust his white locks be trailing. 
 
 " Alone there he stood, head proudly lifted, 
 
 "Eyes turned to Heaven, on earth only darkness. 
 
 " Now glory and praise ! then was help nearest, 
 
 " Cloud's Brother, born like breath of the Midnight, 
 
 " Fell like the lightning, scattered the foemen, 
 
 " Struck down and crush-ed lay the oppressor. 
 
 " Here have I lived with kind help of others, 
 
 " Pine tree uprooted on other pines leaning, 
 
 "Weary myself, a burden to others. 
 
 " Yet shall I call my poor life a treasure, 
 
 " If from the battle near to the old church, 
 
 " Comes back our hero safe and victorious." 
 
 The old man heard the words of the vet'ran. 
 Swiftly he went out, as flying from fire ; 
 Shadows of evening gathered around him, 
 Ere dwellings he reached near to the old church. 
 Black lay the village, smoking, in ashes, 
 Like the starred sky by clouds overshadowed. 
 Alone stood the church on the waste hill side. 
 Like to a lone star seen through a cloud bank. 
 Deep silence brooded o'er the waste country, 
 As broods the moonlight o'er barren autumn. 
 
 Mid fallen warriors friends and unfriendly, 
 Like to a shadow o'er harvest fields moving, 
 
THE CLOUD'S BROTHER. 179 
 
 Staggered the old man — dead all around him, 
 
 Nought that was living, nought even groaning, 
 
 Following the pathway to the last dwelling. 
 
 Bleeding a young man here lay reclining 
 Bleeding but living, sat he, scarce conscious, 
 
 But to his pale cheeks came the blood flushing, 
 
 Like evening^s last ray to silvery cloudlet ; 
 
 Brightened his dim eye, but for a moment, 
 
 As he awoke, and saw a friend coming. 
 
 Hail," he said, " father, to me is death easy, 
 " One of the many to whom it is granted, 
 " To die in our youth for our dear country. 
 " Hail to thee father, who fostered the savior, 
 " Thrice hail to him the hero who led us — 
 " Stronger was he than we all altogether. 
 " Lo, our troop stood, but all its strength broken, 
 " Scattered like cattle without any leader. 
 
 No one gave orders, no one could follow; 
 
 Ere he came to us from the wild cavern, 
 
 Son of the beggar, king-like his forehead, 
 " Clear rang his stern voice calling to battle ; 
 
 Then to each brave heart leaped the swift fire, 
 " Kindled our lost hopes, all doubts were scattered. 
 
 Led by our hero we rushed on the drawn swords, 
 " As rushes the storm that smites down the dry reeds ; 
 
 Yonder church see, hence all the way to it, 
 
 Lies the foe fallen, as on a reaped meadow. 
 
 Blade close to blade, lie the cut grain stalks. 
 " By that road he went, he the victorious, 
 " Whom my eye followed since my foot failed me, 
 " Whom my last thoughts shall unto death follow." 
 
 Thus spoke the brave youth, then his life wan-ed. 
 
 N 2 
 
i8o THE CLOUDS BROTHER, 
 
 So, too, in silence waned now the daylight, 
 Moon, the night's sun, the pale one, and lonely. 
 Lit up the pathway that led to the churchyard. 
 When the old man had come to the churchyard, 
 Lo, many warriors stood mid the crosses. 
 Awful and mute, as those that lay 'neath them. 
 No one came near him, no one to meet him, 
 No one spoke to him, welcome to bid him. 
 No one glanced at him, greeting to give him. 
 Soon as the old man had entered the circle, 
 Lo, at his feet a youth who had fallen. 
 Bloodstained, but, ah ! too easy to know him ! 
 Like to a pine laid low mid the fir trees. 
 Fair e'en in dust and taller than others, 
 Amid fallen foes lay the young hero. 
 
 Hands tightly clasped, and head lowly bended, 
 
 As if by thunder struck, mute stood the old man ; 
 
 All white were his cheeks, and his lips trembling ; 
 
 Found his grief words, and broke out bewailing : 
 " Now is the roof tree of my house broken. 
 
 Harvest and fields by hail storms destroyed. 
 
 Now is the grave more to me than homestead ; 
 " Woe is me, that I thus find thee, my loved one ; 
 " Honor and praise of my desolate old age. 
 
 Gift sent from heaven erst tall, and beauteous. 
 
 Now, like the dust in which thou liest, lowly." 
 
 Scarce had the old man ended his wailing, 
 A voice, like his daughter's, sounded near to him. 
 Heard thro' the gloom, it drew near the watchers 
 " Dear was he to me, to my heart press-ed, 
 " Dearer was he, than all in the wide world \ 
 
THE CLOUD'S BROTHER, i8i 
 
 " Dearest of all, now here in his glory, 
 " Cold on the earth's cold bosom reclining. 
 " Better than living, was it to love him, 
 " Better than loving to die as he died." 
 
 So spake the maid, without tears or wailing, 
 Gently she went where lay the prone body, 
 Kneeled on the ground, and with her white 'kerchief, 
 Covered the forehead pierced by th|s bullet. 
 Dark and sadly the warriors stood round her, 
 Like to a forest when breathless the air is — 
 Silent the women stood also around her, 
 Gathered to see him, gathered to mourn him. 
 Again she spoke out, that noble maiden, 
 " Would you but bring me some little water, 
 " Wash from his face the bloodstains upon it — 
 " Smooth down his locks, his eyes to gaze into, 
 " Eyes that in death are loving and tender — 
 " With joy would I show you here in his beauty, 
 " Cloud's Brother, hero, beggar forgiven, 
 " Who rose in his strength, and was our land's savior." 
 
 The old man heard his daughter thus speaking, 
 Looked on his child as she knelt lowly near him ; 
 Broken his voice as thus he addressed her, 
 Woe's thee my daughter, oh ! lonely daughter — 
 " Joy of our joy, our sorrow's consoler, 
 " Shield of our lives, friend, husband and brother, 
 " All these with him have left thee for ever, 
 "All these with him are gone, and nought left thee." 
 
 Wailed then the list'ners, no eye was tearless ; 
 Teardrops shone in the eyes of the maiden. 
 Took she her hero's hand, speakmg so proudly, 
 
1 82 OUR LAND. 
 
 Honored thy memory be, not with loud waiHng, 
 Not like his mem'ry who lies down forgotten. 
 " Thus shall fatherland weep for its hero, 
 " As evening weeps her dew in the summer, 
 
 Of joy full, and peace, of hope, and of singing, 
 " Arms raised aloft, as we watch for the morning." 
 
 St, Petersburg, Oct. 1880. 
 
 "OUR LAND." 
 
 — Runeberg. 
 
 Our land, our land, our fatherland, 
 
 Sweet word, oh, pleasant sound ! 
 There shines no hill 'neath heavens bland. 
 Lies not a dale, slopes not a strand, 
 More loved than these by North seas bound. 
 Than this our fathers' ground. 
 
 This land is poor, and so must be. 
 
 In all where silver gleams. 
 A sneering stranger passing see, 
 But as it is this land love we — 
 To us its mountains, rocks, and streams, 
 
 A golden land it seems. 
 
 We love thy foaming torrents' roar, 
 
 We love thy brooklets' lay ; 
 Thy forests' moan by storms tossed sore, 
 Thy summers' nights, thy starry lore, 
 All, all that sight, that hearing may, 
 
 To loving hearts convey. 
 
OUR LAND. 
 Here fought our fathers' bitter strife, 
 
 With brain, and sword, and plough — 
 Here, here, in happy, suffering Hfe, 
 In fortune hard, good fortune rife, 
 Their Finnish hearts, both high and low, 
 
 Bore all fate could bestow. 
 
 What suffering too when warfare's wail. 
 
 That noble race tried sore ! 
 The battle raged from dale to dale. 
 Then came the frost, and hunger pale — 
 Who, who could measure all that gore, 
 The sufferings that they bore ! 
 
 And it was here that their blood flowed, 
 
 Yes, here, for us, I say ; 
 And it was here their pure joys glowed, 
 And it was here were griefs bestowed. 
 On them on whom our burdens lay, 
 
 Long, long before our day. 
 
 Here is our wealth, here is our light, 
 
 All that's given us here — 
 Here lies our lot, o'ercast, or bright — 
 All in one fatherland delight. 
 What can we find on earth more dear. 
 
 And cherish to the bier ! 
 
 And here, and here, there lies a land. 
 
 Dear to the eyes that see — 
 For here can we stretch out our hand, 
 And gladly gaze on lake and strand, 
 And say how dear this land should be, 
 Our fatherland, to me. 
 
i84 OUR LAND. 
 
 And oh, in splendor dwell should we, 
 
 In gold clouds and in blue, 
 And should our lives a star dance be, 
 A sigh not hear, a tear not see, 
 Yet to this barren land we're true. 
 Our debt we'll pay her too. 
 
 Oh, land of thousand lakes, the land 
 
 Where truth and faith we see ; 
 The sea of life gives us thy strand — 
 Our ancient land, our coming land. 
 However barren, poor it be, 
 Is glad, is safe, is free. 
 
 The flower in the bud shut up, 
 
 Shall blossom out ere long ; 
 And of our land overflow the cup, 
 With light and splendor, joy and hope — 
 And loud shall ring, and years prolong, 
 Our patriot fathers' song. 
 
 St. Petersburg, April, 1882. 
 
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