Through Finland in Carts Part 13

Grat.i.tude to thee, dear mother, For thy tender care and guidance, For my birth and for my culture, Nurtured by thy purest life-blood!

Grat.i.tude to thee, dear brother, Grat.i.tude to thee, sweet sister, To the servants of my childhood, To my many friends and playmates!

Never, never, aged father, Never, thou, beloved mother, Never, ye, my kindred spirits, Never harbour care nor sorrow, Never fall to bitter weeping, Since thy child has gone to strangers, To the meadows of _Wainola_, From her father's fields and firesides.

Shines the Sun of the Creator, Shines the golden Moon of _Ukko_, Glitter all the stars of heaven, In the firmament of ether, Full as bright on other homesteads; Not upon my father's uplands, Not upon my home in childhood, Shines the Star of Joyance only.

Now the time has come for parting From my father's golden firesides, From my brother's welcome hearth-stone, From the chambers of my sister, From my mother's happy dwelling; Now I leave the swamps and lowlands, Leave the gra.s.sy vales and mountains, Leave the crystal lakes and rivers, Leave the sh.o.r.es and sandy shallows, Leave the white-capped surging billows, Where the maidens swim and linger, Where the mermaids sing and frolic; Leave the swamps to those that wander, Leave the cornfields to the plowman, Leave the forests to the weary, Leave the heather to the rover, Leave the copses to the stranger, Leave the alleys to the beggar, Leave the courtyards to the rambler, Leave the portals to the servant, Leave the matting to the sweeper, Leave the highways to the roebuck, Leave the woodland-glens to lynxes, Leave the lowlands to the wild-geese, And the birch-tree to the cuckoo.

Now I leave these friends of childhood, Journey southward with my husband, To the arms of Night and Winter, O'er the ice-grown seas of Northland.

All this must have seemed very sad to the bridegroom, who sat dumb in a corner, a perfect nonent.i.ty.

Moral for all young men--Never get married in Finland.

The second scene represented the wedding. It was the bridegroom's house.

They had been to the church, and he was bringing her home. The guests were a.s.sembled to receive her, some were baking cakes in great haste, others arranging the pots of _Kalja_, all excited and joyful.

At last some one rushed in to say "They are coming, they are coming,"

and immediately appeared a procession of peasants with the bride and bridegroom _hand in hand_. She wore a dark-red cashmere gown with a handsomely embroidered white ap.r.o.n, and large round silver brooch, such as the Highlanders of Scotland use to fasten their kilt; but she was still covered by the linen cap with its lace adornments, which hung over her face. She was solemnly escorted to a seat by the table, and only raised this veil when the meal began. After "the breakfast" was over, four young men and four girls danced a sort of lancers, with grand variations, and executed gymnastic feats--frog dancing and a sort of Highland-reel step--very pretty and very quaint. The bride and bridegroom did not join in the measure--both sat solemn as judges; indeed, a _Karjalan_ wedding is a monstrously sad affair for the bridegroom, at all events, for he plays a role of no importance, while it must be a melancholy business for the bride.

The men's dresses were of ordinary cloth with bright-coloured linen shirts, and leather boots turned up at the toe, the soft leather legs reaching nearly to the knees, the last two or three inches being laced _behind_, so as to enable the wearer to pull them on. The sisters of the bride wore crowns composed of plain bands of various-coloured ribbons--nearly a quarter of a yard high in front, but diminishing towards the back, where the ends of the ribbons hung below the waist.

The words of the bride's lament are so strange, that we give some of them from _Kalevala_, thinking every man who reads the lines will sympathise with the wretched bridegroom, and every woman wish to have as devoted a husband as the young man is exhorted to make.

But alas! there comes a day of reckoning, when he may "instruct her with a willow," and even "use the birch-rod from the mountains."

THE BRIDE'S FAREWELL

Bridegroom, thou beloved hero, Brave descendant of thy fathers, When thou goest on a journey, When thou drivest on the highway, Driving with the Rainbow-daughter, Fairest bride of _Sariola_, Do not lead her as a t.i.tmouse, As a cuckoo of the forest, Into unfrequented places, Into copses of the borders, Into brier-fields and brambles, Into unproductive marshes; Let her wander not, nor stumble On opposing rocks and rubbish.

Never in her father's dwelling, Never in her mother's courtyard, Has she fallen into ditches, Stumbled hard against the fences, Run through brier-fields, nor brambles, Fallen over rocks, nor rubbish.

Magic bridegroom of _Wainola_, Wise descendant of the heroes, Never let thy young wife suffer, Never let her be neglected, Never let her sit in darkness, Never leave her unattended.

Never in her father's mansion, In the chambers of her mother, Has she sat alone in darkness, Has she suffered for attention; Sat she by the crystal window, Sat and rocked, in peace and plenty, Evenings for her father's pleasure, Mornings for her mother's sunshine.

Never mayest thou, O bridegroom, Lead the Maiden of the Rainbow To the mortar filled with sea-gra.s.s, There to grind the bark for cooking, There to bake her bread from stubble, There to knead her dough from tan-bark.

Never in her father's dwelling, Never in her mother's mansion, Was she taken to the mortar, There to bake her bread from sea-gra.s.s.

Thou should'st lead the Bride of Beauty To the garner's rich abundance, There to draw the till of barley, Grind the flower and knead for baking, There to brew the beer for drinking, Wheaten flour for honey-biscuits.

Hero-bridegroom of _Wainola_, Never cause thy Bride of Beauty To regret her day of marriage; Never make her shed a tear-drop, Never fill her cup with sorrow.

Should there ever come an evening When thy wife shall feel unhappy, Put the harness on thy racer, Hitch the fleet-foot to the snow-sledge, Take her to her father's dwelling, To the household of her mother; Never in thy hero-lifetime, Never while the moonbeams glimmer, Give thy fair spouse evil treatment, Never treat her as thy servant; Do not bar her from the cellar, Do not lock thy best provisions.

Never in her father's mansion, Never by her faithful mother Was she treated as a hireling.

Honoured bridegroom of the Northland, Proud descendant of the fathers, If thou treatest well thy young wife, Worthily wilt thou be treated; When thou goest to her homestead, When thou visitest her father, Thou shalt meet a cordial welcome.

Censure not the Bride of Beauty, Never grieve thy Rainbow-maiden, Never say in tones reproachful, She was born in lowly station, That her father was unworthy; Honoured are thy bride's relations, From an old-time tribe her kindred; When of corn they sowed a measure, Each one's portion was a kernel; When they sowed a cask of flax-seed, Each received a thread of linen.

Never, never, magic husband, Treat thy beauty-bride unkindly, Teach her not with lash of servants, Strike her not with thongs of leather; Never has she wept in anguish, From the birch-whip of her mother.

Stand before her like a rampart, Be to her a strong protection, Do not let thy mother chide her, Let thy father not upbraid her, Never let thy guests offend her; Should thy servants bring annoyance, They may need the master's censure; Do not harm the Bride of Beauty, Never injure her thou lovest; Three long years hast thou been wooing, Hoping every month to win her.

Counsel with the bride of heaven, To thy young wife give instruction, Kindly teach thy bride in secret, In the long and dreary evenings, When thou sittest at the fireside; Teach one year, in words of kindness, Teach with eyes of love a second, In the third year teach with firmness.

If she should not heed thy teaching, Should not hear thy kindly counsel, After three long years of effort, Cut a reed upon the lowlands, Cut a nettle from the border, Teach thy wife with harder measures.

In the fourth year, if she heed not, Threaten her with sterner treatment, With the stalks of rougher edges, Use not yet the thongs of leather, Do not touch her with the birch-whip.

If she should not heed this warning, Should she pay thee no attention, Cut a rod upon the mountains, Or a willow in the valleys, Hide it underneath thy mantle, That the stranger may not see it, Show it to thy wife in secret, Shame her thus to do her duty, Strike not yet, though disobeying.

Should she disregard this warning, Still refuse to heed thy wishes, Then instruct her with the willow, Use the birch-rod from the mountains, In the closet of thy dwelling, In the attic of thy mansion; Strike her not upon the common, Do not conquer her in public, Lest the villagers should see thee, Lest the neighbours hear her weeping, And the forests learn thy troubles.

Touch thy wife upon the shoulders, Let her stiffened back be softened; Do not touch her on the forehead, Nor upon the ears, nor visage; If a ridge be on her forehead, Or a blue mark on her eyelids, Then her mother would perceive it, And her father would take notice, All the village-workmen see it, And the village-women ask her: "Hast thou been in heat of battle, Hast thou struggled in a conflict, Or perchance the wolves have torn thee, Or the forest bears embraced thee, Or the black-wolf be thy husband, And the bear be thy protector?"

By the fireplace lay a gray-beard, On the hearth-stone lay a beggar, And the old man spake as follows:-- "Never, never, hero-husband, Follow thou thy young wife's wishes, Follow not her inclinations, As, alas! I did, regretful; Bought my bride the bread of barley, Veal, and beer, and best of b.u.t.ter, Fish and fowl of all descriptions, Beer I bought, home-brewed and sparkling, Wheat from all the distant nations, All the dainties of the Northland; But this all was unavailing, Gave my wife no satisfaction, Often came she to my chamber, Tore my sable locks in frenzy, With a visage fierce and frightful, With her eyeb.a.l.l.s flashing anger, Scolding on and scolding ever, Ever speaking words of evil, Using epithets the vilest, Thought me but a block for chopping.

Then I sought for other measures, Used on her my last resources, Cut a birch-whip in the forest, And she spake in terms endearing; Cut a juniper or willow, And she called me 'hero-darling'; When with lash my wife I threatened, Hung she on my neck with kisses."

Thus the bridegroom was instructed, Thus the last advices given.

Then the Maiden of the Rainbow, Beauteous bride of _Ilmarinen_, Sighing heavily and moaning, Fell to weeping, heavy-hearted, Spake these words from depths of sorrow: "Near, indeed, the separation, Near, alas! the time for parting, Near the time of my departure; Fare thee well, my dear old homestead, Fare ye well, my native bowers; It would give me joy unceasing Could I linger here for ever.

Now farewell, ye halls and portals Leading to my father's mansion; It would give me joy unceasing Could I linger here for ever."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GROUP OF RUNO BARDS.]

What a delightful representation! A beautiful scene of peasant life a hundred years ago. The charm of the singing in the open air, the people dressed in the old costumes, the scene really correct, old spinning wheels, etc., having been borrowed from the museum for the purpose.

It was a charming picture, one well worth retaining on the retina of memory.

It was the last day; the _Karjalan_ wedding was over, and all the choirs, numbering altogether nearly a thousand voices, sang chants and hymns most beautifully, their combined voices being heard far through the woods and across the lakes.

It was really a grand spectacle, those thousand men and women on the platform, comprising peasants, farmers, students, professors, all brought together merely to sing, while below and on the opposite hill three thousand seats were filled by a mixed audience, behind whom again, among the pine-trees, sat several thousand more. As a final effort the conductor called upon every one to join in the National Anthem. Up rose ten thousand or twelve thousand persons, and, as one man, they sang their patriotic verses beneath the blue canopy of heaven. It was wonderful; to a stranger the harmony of the whole was amazing; indeed, so successful did it prove, that national song after national song was sung by that musical audience. We looked on and marvelled. Music attracts in Finland, for from end to end of the land the people are imbued with its spirit and feel its power.

The sun blazed, the pine cones scented the air, the birds sang, and we felt transported back to old Druidical days when people met in the open for song and prayer. It was all very simple, but very delightful, and the people seemed to most thoroughly enjoy hearing their national airs; the whole scene again reminded us of Ober Ammergau, or of a Highland out-of-door Communion Service.

Alas! the Finnish national dress has almost disappeared, but at the _Sordavala_ Festival a great attempt was made to revive it at the enormous open-air concerts in the public park, where some of the girls, lying or sitting under the pine-trees on the hill opposite listening to the choir singing, wore the dress of _Suomi_.

The national colours are red and yellow, or white and bright blue, and much dispute arises as to which is really right, for while the heraldry book says red and yellow, the country folk maintain blue and white.

White loose blouses of fine Finnish flannel seemed most in favour, with a short full underskirt of the same material; geometrical embroidery about two inches wide in all colours and patterns being put round the hem of the short dress as well as brace fashion over the bodice; in some cases a very vivid shade of green, a sort of pinafore bodice with a large ap.r.o.n of the same colour falling in front, was noticeable; the embroidery in claret and dark green running round all the border lines; at the neck this embroidery was put on more thickly, and also at the waist belt. Round the ap.r.o.n hung a deep and handsome fringe; altogether the dress with its striking colours and tin or silver hangings was very pleasing. Unfortunately the girls seemed to think that even when they wore their national dress they ought to wear also a hat and gloves; although even the simplest hat spoils the effect.

At the back of the wood, where we wandered for a little shade and quiet rest, we found our dear friends the "_Runo_ singers." The name originated from the ancient songs having been written down on sticks, the _Runo_ writing being cut or burnt in, this was the bards' only form of music. Now these strange musical memoranda can only be found in museums. Our _Runo_ singers, delighted with the success of the marriage-play they had coached, welcomed us warmly, and at once rose to shake hands as we paused to listen to their _kantele_ playing and quaint chanting.

It may be well to mention that the Finnish language is very remarkable.

Like Gaelic, it is musical, soft and dulcet, expressive and poetical, comes from a very old root, and is, in fact, one of the most interesting languages we possess. But some of the Finnish words are extremely long, in which respect they excel even the German. As a specimen of what a Finnish word can be, we may give _Oppimattomuudessansakin_, meaning, "Even in his ignorance."

The language is intensely difficult to learn, for it has sixteen cases, a fact sufficient to appal the stoutest heart. However, there is one good thing about Finnish, namely, that it is spoken absolutely phonetically, emphasis being invariably laid on the first syllable. For instance, the above word is p.r.o.nounced (the "i" being spoken as "e") Oppi-ma-tto-muu-des-san-sa-kin.

Finnish possesses a _you_ and a _thou_, which fact, though it cannot lighten the difficulties, does away with the terrible third person invariably in use in Swedish, where people say calmly:

"Has the Herr Professor enjoyed his breakfast?"

"Yes, thanks, and I hope the Mrs. Auth.o.r.ess has done the same."

By the Swedish-speaking Finns it is considered the worst of ill-breeding for a younger person to address an elder as "you," or for strangers to speak to one another except in the manner above indicated.

Finnish is one of the softest of tongues, and of all European languages most closely resembles the _Magyar_ or Hungarian. Both of these come from the Ugrian stock of _Agglutinative_ languages, and therefore they always stick to the roots of the word and make grammatical changes by suffixes. Vowels are employed so incessantly that the words are round and soft, and lend themselves easily to song. There are only twenty-two letters in the Finnish alphabet, and as _F_ is very seldom employed, even that number is decreased. The use of vowels is endless; the dotted o, equivalent to the French _eu_, being often followed by an e or i, and thereby rendered doubly soft.

Finns freely employ _thou_ and _thee_, and add to these forms of endearment numerous suffixes. Human names, all animals, plants, metals, stones, trees--anything, in fact--can be used in the diminutive form.