Strife and Peace
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Fredrika Bremer >> Strife and Peace
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Alette was something more than twenty years of age, and had the
beautiful growth, the pure complexion, the fine features, with which
mother Nature seems especially to have endowed her daughters of Norway.
Something fine and transparent lay in her appearance; and her body
seemed merely to be a light garment for the soul, so full of life. Her
manner of action and of speaking had something fascinating in them, and
betrayed happy endowments of nature and much accomplishment. Betrothed
to a wealthy merchant of Nordland, she was to be married in the autumn;
but in the meanwhile came to spend some time with her brother, and with
some other near relatives in Hallingdal.
Susanna felt herself but little at ease with Alette, beside whose fine,
half-ethereal being, she perceived in herself for the first time, an
unpleasant consciousness of being--lumpish.
From the moment of Alette's arrival in Semb, there commenced a change
there. Her charming disposition and great talents made her quickly the
centre round which all assembled. Even Mrs. Astrid felt her influence,
and remained in the evenings with the rest, and took part in the
conversation, which Alette knew how to make interesting. But Mrs. Astrid
herself contributed not the less thereto, when she for hours together,
as it were, forgot herself in the subjects of the conversation, and then
uttered words which gave evidence of a deeply feeling and thinking
spirit. Susanna regarded her with joy and admiration. Yet often a
painful thought seemed to snatch her away from the genial impression,
some dark memory appeared spectre-like to step between her and gladness;
the words then died on her pallid lips, the hand was laid on the heart,
and she heard and saw no more of what was going on around her, till the
interest of the conversation was again able to take hold of her.
There was frequently reading aloud. Alette had a real talent for this,
and it was a genuine enjoyment to hear from her lips, poems of Velhaven
and Vergeland; which two young men, although personal enemies, in this
respect have extended to each other a brotherly hand, because they
sincerely love their native land, and have exhibited much that is
beautiful and ennobling in its literature.
In the mean time, Susanna became continually less at ease in her mind;
Harald no longer, as before, sought her company, and seemed almost to
have forgotten her in Alette. In the conversations, at which she was now
often present, there was much which touched her feelings, and awoke in
her questions and imaginations; but when she attempted to express any of
these, when she would take part and would show that she too could think
and speak, then fell the words so ill, and her thoughts came forth so
obscurely, that she herself was compelled to blush for them; especially
when on this, Alette would turn her eyes upon her with some
astonishment, and Harald cast down his; and she vowed to herself never
again to open her mouth on subjects which she did not understand.
But all this sunk deep into her bosom; and in her self-humiliation she
lamented bitterly the want of a more careful education, and sighed from
the depths of her heart, "Ah! that I did but know a little more! That I
did but possess some beautiful talent!"
AN EVENING IN THE SITTING-ROOM.
And is it once morning, then is it noon-day,
For the light must eternally conquer.
FOSS.
It was a lovely summer evening. Through the open windows of the
sitting-room streamed in the delicious summer air with the fragrance of
the hay, which now lay in swath in the dale. At one table, Susanna
prepared the steaming tea, which the Norwegians like almost as much as
the English; at another sate Mrs. Astrid with Harald and Alette,
occupied with the newly-published beautiful work, "Snorre Sturleson's
Sagas of the Norwegian Kings, translated from the Icelandic of J. Aal."
The fourth number of this work lay before Harald, open at the section
"The Discovery of Vineland." He had just read aloud Mr. Aal's
interesting introduction to the Sagas of Erik Roede and Karlefne, and now
proceeded to read these two Sagas themselves, which contained the
narrative of the _first_ discovery of America, and of which we here give
a brief compendium.
"At the end of the tenth century, at the period when the Northmen sought
with warlike Viking hosts the south, and the Christianity with the
Gospel of Peace made its way towards the North, there lived in Iceland a
man of consequence, named Herjulf. His son was called Bjarne, and was a
courageous young man. His mind was early turned towards travel and
adventures. He soon had the command of his own ship, and sailed in it
for foreign lands. As he one summer returned to the island of his
ancestors, his father had shortly before sailed for Greenland, and had
settled himself there. Then also steered Bjarne out to sea, saying, 'He
would, after the old custom, take up his winter's board with his father,
and would sail for Greenland.'
"After three days' sail, a fierce north wind arose, followed by so thick
a fog that Bjarne and his people could no longer tell where they were.
This continued many days. After that they began to see the sun again,
and could discern the quarters of the heaven. They saw before them land,
which was overgrown with wood, and had gentle eminences. Bjarne would
not land there, because it could not be Greenland, where he knew that
they should find great icebergs. They sailed on with a south-west wind
for three days, and got sight of another land, which was mountainous,
and had lofty icebergs. But Bjarne perceived that neither was this
Greenland, and sailed farther, till he at length discovered the land
which he sought, and his father's court.
"On a visit to Erik Jarl in Norway, Bjarne related his voyage, and spoke
of the strange country which he had seen. But people thought that he had
had little curiosity not to have been able to say more about this
country, and some blamed him much on this account. Erik Roede's son Leif,
the descendant of a distinguished line, was filled with zeal at Bjarne's
relation, to pursue the discovery, and purchased of him a ship, which he
manned with five-and-thirty men, and so set out to sea, to discover
this new land. They came first to a country full of snow and mountains,
which seemed to them to be destitute of all magnificence. They then came
in sight of one whose shore was of white sand, and its surface overgrown
with woods.[8] They sailed yet farther westward, and arrived at a
splendid country, where they found grapes and Indian corn and the noble
tree 'Masur.'[9]
"This country[10] they called 'Vineland,' and built a house, and
remained there through the winter, which was so mild that the grass was
but little withered. Moreover, the day and night were of more equal
length than in Iceland or Greenland. And Leif was a tall and strong man,
of a manly aspect, and at the same time wise and prudent in all matters.
After this expedition, he grew both in consideration and wealth, and was
universally called 'The Happy.'
"Amongst the voyages to this new country which followed on that of Leif,
Karlefne's is the most remarkable. But the new colonists were attacked
with heavy sickness; and the peculiar home-sickness of the inhabitants
of the North might perhaps, in part, drive them back from the grapes of
Vineland to their own snowy home: certain it is, that they retained no
permanent settlement in the new country. They were also continually
assaulted by the natives, whom their weapons were not powerful enough to
restrain.
"In the mean time, several Icelandic annalists have recorded that, in
every age, from the time of Leif to that of Columbus, America was
visited by the Northmen. Testimonies and memories of these voyages we
have now only in these relations, and in the remarkable stone called
'Dighton written Rock,' on the bank of Taunton river, in Massachusetts,
and whose ruins and hieroglyphics, at length, in 1830, copied by learned
Americans, corroborate the truth of these relations."
Harald now commented on these figures with great zeal, remarking that,
in Norway, similar ones were yet found engraven on the face of rocks, on
tombstones, etc. "Do you see, Alette," continued he, eagerly, "this
represents a woman and a little child; probably Karlefne's wife, who
bore a son during this visit to Vineland. And this must be a bull; and
in Karlefne's Saga a bull is mentioned, which terrified the natives by
his bellowings; and these figures to the right represent the natives.
This must be a shield, and these Runic letters."
"It requires a right good strength of imagination for all this, my
brother," here interrupted Alette, smilingly, who was not altogether so
patriotic as Harald; "but granted that all this was evidence of the
first discovery of America by our ancestors, what then? What good, what
advantage has the world derived thence? Is it not rather sorrowful to
see that such important discoveries should have been lost, that they
could be obliterated, as if they had never been, and must be made anew?
Had not Columbus, some centuries later, braved both the
narrow-mindedness of men and the yet unmeasured tracks of the ocean, it
is probable that to-day we should know nothing of America, and of these
stones, the traces of our forefathers on this foreign soil."
"But, my dear Alette," exclaimed Harald in astonishment, "is it not then
clear as the sun, that without the Vineland voyages of the Northmen,
Columbus could certainly never have fallen upon the idea of seeking a
land beyond the great ocean? In the time of Columbus, the Northmen
sailed in their Snaeckor[11] about all the coasts of Europe; they made
voyages to Spain, and rumours of the Vineland voyages went with them.
Besides--and _this_ is worthy of notice--Columbus himself visited
Iceland a few years prior to his great voyage of discovery; and, as
Robertson says, rather to extend his knowledge of sea affairs than to
augment his property."
"But," said Alette, "Washington Irving, in his 'Columbus,' which I have
recently read, speaks indeed of his voyage to Iceland, but denies that
he derived thence any clue to his great discovery."
"But that is incredible, impossible, after what we here see and hear!
Listen now to what Aal says of the time when Columbus made his sojourn
in Iceland: 'In Iceland flourished then the written Sagas, and the
various Sagas passed from hand to hand in various copies, serving then,
as now, but in a higher degree, to shorten the winter evenings. Our old
manuscript Sagas thus certainly kindled a light in his dim conceptions;
and this must have so much the more brought him upon the track, as it
was nearer to the events themselves, and could in part be orally
communicated by those who were the direct lineal descendants of the
discoverers.'
"Is not this most natural and essential? Can you doubt any longer,
Alette? I pray you convert and improve yourself. Convert yourself from
Irving to Aal."
"I am disposed to take Harald's side," said now Mrs. Astrid, with a
lively voice and look. "Great, and for mankind, important discoveries
have never occurred without preparatory circumstances, often silently
operating through whole centuries, till in a happy moment the spirit of
genius and of good fortune has blown up the fire which glowed beneath
the ashes, into a clear, and for the world, magnificent flame. Wherever
we see a flower we can look down to a stem, to the roots hidden in the
earth, and finally look to a seed, which in its dark form contained the
yet undeveloped but living plant. And may not everything in the world be
regulated by the same law of development? In the tempestuous voyages of
the Northmen through the misty seas, I could see the weather-driven seed
which, under the guidance of Providence, from the soil of Vineland,
stretched its roots through centuries, till a mighty genius was guided
by them to complete the work, and to the Old World to discover the New."
Harald was delighted with this idea, which blew fresh wind into his
sails; and thereby enlivened, he gave vent to the admiration of the
ancient times of the North, which lived in his bosom.
"It belonged," said he, "to those men of few words but of powerful
deeds; those men to whom danger was a sport, the storm music, and the
swell of waves a dance: to this race of youths it belonged to discover
new worlds without imagining that to be any exploit. Great achievements
were their every-day occupation."
Alette shook her beautiful head at this enthusiasm for antiquity. She
would not deny these times had a certain greatness, but she could not
pronounce them truly great. She spoke of the revenge, the violence, the
base cruelties which the past ages of the North openly paid homage to.
"But," continued Harald, "the contempt of pain and death, this noble
contempt, so universal amongst the men of that time, deprived cruelty of
its sting. Our degenerate race has scarcely a conception of the strength
which made the men of past times find a pleasure even in pains, since
they spurred their courageous souls to the highest pitch of heroism;
since in such moments they felt themselves able to be more than men.
Therefore sung heroes amid the very pains of death. Thus died the
Swedish Hjalmar, in the arms of his friend Odd, the Norwegian, while he
greeted the eagles which came to drink his blood. Thus died Ragnar
Lodbrok, in the den of serpents; and while the snakes hissing, gnawed
their way into his heart, he sung his victories, and concluded with the
words--
Gone are the hours of existence!
Smiling shall I die.
"How noble and admirable is this strength, amid torments and death! Could
we but thus die!"
"But the rudest savages of America," said Alette, "know and practise
this species of heroism; before me floats another ideal, both of life
and death. The strong spirit of past ages, which you, my brother, so
highly prize, could not support old age, the weary days, the silent
suffering, the great portion of the lot of man. I will prize the spirit
which elevates every condition of humanity; which animates the dying
hero to praise, not himself, but God, and die; and which to the lonely
one, who wanders through the night of life towards his unnoticed grave,
imparts a strength, a peace, and enables him in his darkness to triumph
over all the powers of darkness. Ah! I who deeply feel myself to be one
of the weak ones in the earth, who possess no single drop of Northern
heroic blood; I rejoice that we can live and die in a manner which is
noble, which is beautiful, which requires not the Berserker-mood, and of
which the strongest spirit need not be ashamed. Do you remember, my
brother, 'The old poet' of Rein? This poem perfectly expresses the tone
of mind which I would wish to possess in my last hour."
Harald recollected but faintly "The old poet," and both he and Mrs.
Astrid begged Alette to make them better acquainted with him. Alette
could not remember the whole of the poem, but gave an account of the
most essential of its contents in these words--
"It is spring. The aged poet wanders through wood and mead, in the
country where he once sung, where he had once been happy, amongst those
whom he had made glad. His voice is now broken; his strength, his fire,
are over. Like a shadow of that which once he was, he goes about in the
young world still fresh with life. The birds of spring gather around
him, welcome him with joy, and implore him to take his harp and sing to
it of the new-born year, of the smiling spring. He answers--
O ye dear little singer quire,
No more can I strike the harp with fire;
No more in youth is renewed my spring;
No more the old poet can gaily sing;
And yet I am so blest--
In my heart is heavenly rest.[12]
"He wanders farther through wood and meadow. The brook murmuring between
green banks, whispers to him its joy over its loosed bands, and greets
the singer as the messenger of spring and freedom:
Thy harp, my fleet stream fondly haileth--
It leaps, it exults, it bewaileth;
Let it sound then--O make no delay!--
Like me the days hasten away.
"The aged singer replies:
O spring! which dost leap in thy sheen,
No more am I what I have been.
The name of the past I hear alone--
A feeble echo of days that are flown.
And yet I am so blest;
In my heart is heavenly rest.
"He wanders farther. The Dryads surround him in their dance; the Flowers
present him garlands, and beg him to sing their festival; the Zephyrs,
which were wont to play amid his harp-strings, seek in the bushes, and
ask whether he has forgotten them there; caress the old man, and seek
again, but in vain. They are about to fly, but he entreats:
O dear ones, depart not I pray!
O flowers, spread with beauty my way!
My harp is broken, but no sigh
Spring's spirits gay shall cause to fly.
And I am still so blest;
In my heart is heavenly rest.
"He wanders farther, and seeks out every beloved nook. The youth of the
country assemble, and surround the aged singer--'the friend of youth and
gladness.' They entreat him with his music to beautify their festival:
For spring is dead, with all its pleasure,
Without the harp and song's glad measure.
"The old man replies:
Quenched, ye youth, is my fire so wild;
My evening twilight is cool, but mild;
And the blissful hours of my youth are brought,
By your lively songs, into my thought.
Bewail me not; I am still so blest--
In my heart lieth heaven's own rest.
"And now he exhorts the songsters of the wood, flowers, youth,
everything that is lovely in nature and in life, to rejoice in its
existence, and to praise the Creator. The beauty and joy of all
creatures are the garland in his silver hair; and grateful and happy,
admiring and singing praises, he sinks softly into the maternal bosom of
Nature."
Alette was silent; a tender emotion trembled in her voice as she uttered
the last words, and beamed in her charming countenance. The tears of
Mrs. Astrid flowed; her hands were convulsively clasped together, whilst
she exclaimed, "Oh thus to feel before one dies! and thus to be
permitted to die!" She drew Alette to her with a kind of vehemence,
kissed her, and then wept silently, leaning on her shoulder. Harald,
too, was affected; but he appeared to restrain his feelings, and gazed
with earnest and tearful eyes on the group before him.
Silently and unobserved stole Susanna out of the room. She felt a sting
in her heart; a serpent raged in her bosom. Driven by a nameless
agonised disquiet, she hastened forth into the free air, and ascended,
almost without being aware of it herself, the steep footpath up the
mountain, where many a time, in calmer moments, she had admired the
beautiful prospect.
Great and beautiful scenes had, during the foregoing conversation,
arisen before her view;--she felt herself so little, so poor beside
them. Ah! she could not once speak of the great and beautiful, for her
tongue was bound. She felt so warmly, and yet could warm no one! The
happy Alette won without trouble, perhaps even without much valuing it,
a regard, an approval, which Susanna would have purchased with her life.
The Barbra-spirit boiled up in her, and with a reproachful glance to
heaven she exclaimed, "Shall I then, for my whole life remain nothing
but a poor despised maid-servant!"
The heaven looked clown on the young maiden mildly, but smilingly; soft
rain-drops sprinkled her forehead; and all nature around her stood
silent, and, as it were, in sorrow. This sorrowing calm operated on
Susanna like the tenderly accusing glance of a good mother. She looked
down into her heart, and saw there envy and pride, and she shuddered at
herself. She gazed down into the stream which waved beneath her feet,
and she thought with longing, "Oh, that one could but plunge down, deep,
deep into these waves, and then arise purified--improved!"
But already this wish had operated like a purifying baptism on Susanna's
soul; and she felt fresh and light thoughts ascend within her. "A poor
maid-servant!" repeated now Sanna; "and why should that be so
contemptible a lot? The Highest himself has served on earth; served for
all, for the very least; yes, even for me. Oh!--" and it became
continually lighter and warmer in her mind.--"I will be a true
maid-servant, and place my honour in it, and desire to be nothing else!
Charm I cannot; beauty and genius, and beautiful talents, I have not;
but--I can love and I can serve, and that will I do with my whole heart,
and with all my strength, and in all humility; and if men despise me,
yet God will not forsake the poor and faithful maid-servant!"
When Susanna again cast her tearful eyes on the ground, they fell on a
little piece of moss, one of those very least children of nature, which
in silence and unheeded pass through the metamorphoses of their quiet
life. The little plant stood in fresh green, on its head hung the clear
rain-drops, and the sun which now shone through the clouds, glittered in
them.
Susanna contemplated the little moss, and it seemed to say to her: "See
thou! though I am so insignificant, yet I enjoy the dew of heaven and
the beams of the sun, as fully as the roses and the lilacs of the
garden!" Susanna understood the speech of the little plant, and grateful
and calmed, she repeated many times to herself, with a species of silent
gladness--"a humble, a faithful maid-servant!"
When Susanna came home, she found Mrs. Astrid not well. She had been
much excited, and on such occasions an attack of the spasms was always
to be apprehended. Susanna begged earnestly, and received the permission
to watch by her to-night; at least, till Mrs. Astrid slept. Mrs. Astrid
had, indeed, another maid with her, but she was old and very deaf, and
Susanna had no confidence in her.
Mrs. Astrid retired to rest. Susanna seated herself on a stool by the
window, silently occupied with her thoughts, and with knitting a
stocking. The window had stood open during the day, and a host of flies
had entered the room. Mrs. Astrid was much disturbed by them, and
complained that they prevented her sleeping. Quietly Susanna laid bare
her white shoulders, neck, and arms, and when the flies in swarms darted
down upon her, and her mistress now left at peace slept calmly, Susanna
sate still, let the flies enjoy themselves, and enjoyed herself thereby
more than one can believe.
FOOTNOTES:
[8] Probably Newfoundland.
[9] Probably spotted maple.
[10] Upper Canada.
[11] Snails or cockles, as they called their light craft.
[12] I have not wished to attempt a translation of these verses,
convinced that for the Swedish reader it is not necessary; and why
unnecessarily brush off the golden dust from the butterfly's
wings.--_Fredrika Bremer_.
As, however, the _English reader_ may find it _rather_ more necessary to
give a translation of the Norwegian verses, I have made it, and that as
much in the simplicity of the original as I could.--M. H.
RETREATING AND ADVANCING.
True delicacy, that most beautiful heart-leaf of humanity, exhibits
itself most significantly in little things. Those which we in
general call so, are not by any means so little.
J. C. LOUS.
It is with our faults as with horseradish; it is terribly difficult to
extirpate it from the earth in which it has once taken root; and nothing
is more discouraging to the cultivator who will annihilate this weed
from his ground, than to see it, so lately plucked up, shooting forth
again freshly to the light from roots which remained buried in the
earth. One can get quite out of patience; with the weedy soil, and one
is, when this soil is one's own dear self, possessed by the most cordial
desire to set off far, far from one's self. But how!!!
Susanna was often conscious of this feeling, as she daily laboured to
repress the excitements which arose up within her at this time. Still
the thoughts and resolutions which awoke within her on the evening just
described, had taken hold upon her too strongly for them to be again
effaced, and with the motto--"a humble and regular servant-girl," she
struggled boldly through the dangers and the events of the day. Her
demeanour was calmer; she quietly withdrew herself from taking part in
conversation which went beyond her education; in a friendly spirit, she
endeavoured to renounce the attentions and interest of others, and
busied herself only in attending to the comforts and pleasures of all,
as well as in accomplishing, and when possible, anticipating every wish.
And such an activity has, more than people imagine, an influence upon
the well-being of every-day life. The affectionate will lends even to
dead things soul and life. But heavy to the ministering spirits is this
life of labour and care for others, where no sunbeam of love, no cordial
acknowledgment, falls upon their laborious day.
In the beginning of August, Harald set off, to return in about fourteen
days with Alf Lexow, the betrothed of Alette. During his absence, Alette
was to pay a visit to her uncle in Hallingdal; but, according to Mrs.
Astrid's wish, she yet spent another week at Semb. During these days,
Alette and Susanna became better friends, for Alette was touched
involuntarily by Susanna's unwearied and unpretending attentions, and
besides this, she found in her such a frank mind and such cordial
sympathy, that she could not deny herself the pleasure of communicating
much of that which lived in the heart of the happy bride. Happy,--indeed
Alette was, for long and warmly had she loved Alf Lexow, and should
shortly be united to him for ever; and yet often stole a melancholy
expression over her charming surface, when the conversation turned to
this marriage and to her removal into Nordland. Susanna asked her
several times of the cause of this, and as often Alette jestingly evaded
the question; but one evening when they had chatted together more
friendly than common, Alette said--
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