Part 29 (1/2)

”Sulev's son came here from Southland, Further Kalev's son had wandered; Sulev's son would fain have kissed me, Kalev's son my hand had taken; But I smote the son of Sulev, And in scorn the son of Kalev, I the fairest of the maidens.”

Scarcely had the old woman finished her song, when there arose a loud shout of laughter among the people, which sounded far over the plain and was echoed back from the forest. The people sang the old woman's last words in derision, and their laughter was unceasing till the eldest of the company stopped it with stern interference. All was still around.

Then an old man on a decorated seat began a magnificent song, which filled all around with holy joy. But suddenly they heard a voice behind him, which took up the witch's song afresh. Laughter again arose among the ranks of people. Again the elder sternly commanded silence, and those who were gathered round the old man and had heard his song likewise commanded silence. Then the people were quiet once more.

The old man on the throne of song now raised his voice, and the people listened to him with delight. It was a genuine song, for it met with a response in all hearts, and moved their n.o.bler being to heavenly thoughts. But again a loud voice rose in the throng, which took up the ugly chant of the old woman, and again loud laughter echoed through the a.s.sembly. Then the old man on the throne grew angry, gazed wrathfully down on the foolish throng, and immediately vanished from their eyes.

Only a mighty rus.h.i.+ng and clanging was heard, so that all trembled, and their blood froze in their veins. Who was the h.o.a.ry singer? Was it not Vanemuine himself? Where had he vanished to? They talked and asked each other. But the singer remained invisible, and no one saw him again.

This was Vanemuine's last farewell to the Esthonian people. Only a few minstrels now enjoy the happiness of listening to his singing and playing in the far distance, and such minstrels only are able to move their brothers with the divine voice of song.

In the _Kalevala_, Vainamoinen has neither wife nor child, but the Esthonians ascribe to him a foster-daughter, of whom the following story is related.

JUTTA.

(JANNSEN.)[35]

Once upon a time the G.o.d of Song wandered musing by the banks of Lake Endla, and his harp clanged in unison with the thoughts which moved his heart. There he saw a little child lying near him in the gra.s.s, which stretched out its hands to him. He looked round everywhere for the child's mother, but she was nowhere to be seen. So he lifted up the beautiful little girl, and went to Taara, and begged him to give him the child as his own. Ukko consented, and as he gazed graciously at his daughter, her eyes shone like stars, and her hair glittered like bright gold.

Under the divine protection the child grew up from the tender infant to the maiden Jutta. The G.o.d of Song taught her the sweet art of speech, and Ilmarine wrought the girl a veil, wondrously woven of silver threads. He who gazed through her veil saw everything of which the maiden spoke as if it were pa.s.sing before his eyes. She is said to have dwelt by the Lake of Endla, where she was often seen, planning the flights of the birds of pa.s.sage, and showing them the way; and also when she wandered by the sh.o.r.es of the lake, and wept for the death of Endla,[36] her beloved. But she took the wonderful veil, and gazed upon the happy past, and then was she happy, for she thought she possessed what her eyes saw. She has also lent her veil to mortal men, and then it is that the songs and legends of the past become living to us.

We will now proceed to stories relative to the nature-spirits, commencing with those of the water, who are both numerous and powerful among the Finns and Esthonians. Other stories concerning them will be found in different parts of the book.

[Footnote 35: This story is also related, more briefly, by Blumberg, who states that Lake Endla lies in an impa.s.sable swamp in the district of Vaimastfer, and is visible from the hill near Kardis. The fish and birds are under the protection of Jutta, and there is no place in the country where birds congregate to such an extent, and birds of pa.s.sage remain so long. Jutta is perhaps the same as Lindu (vol. ii. p. 147). Near Heidelberg is a spring called the ”Wolfsbrunnen,” where a beautiful enchantress named Jutta, the priestess of Hertha, is said to have had an a.s.signation with her lover; but he found she had been killed by a wolf, the messenger of the offended G.o.ddess. Whether there is any connection between the German and Esthonian Jutta I do not know.]

[Footnote 36: Or Endel, the son of Ilmarine. Blumberg writes ”Wanemuinen” and ”Ilmarinen” in his account of the legend, which nearly approach the Finnish forms of the names.]

THE TWELVE DAUGHTERS.

(KREUTZWALD.)

Once upon a time there lived a poor labourer who had twelve daughters, among whom were two pairs of twins. They were all charming girls, healthy, ruddy, and well made. The parents were very poor, and the neighbours could not understand how they managed to feed and clothe so many children. Every day the children were washed and their hair combed, and they always wore clean clothes, like Saxon children. Some thought that the labourer had a treasure-bringer, who brought him whatever he wanted;[37] others said that he was a sorcerer, and others thought he was a wizard who knew how to discover hidden treasures in the whirlwind.

But the real explanation was very different. The labourer's wife had a secret benefactress who fed and washed and combed the children.

When the mother was a girl, she lived in service at a farmhouse, where she dreamed for three nights running that a n.o.ble lady came towards her, and desired her to go to the village spring on St. John's Eve. Perhaps she would have forgotten all about the dream; but on St. John's Eve she heard a small voice like the buzzing of a gnat always singing in her ear, ”Go to the spring, go to the spring, whence trickle the watery streams of your good fortune!” Although she could not listen to this secret summons without a shudder, yet she fortified her heart at length, and leaving the other maidens, who were amusing themselves with the swing and round the fire, she went to the spring. The nearer she came, the more her heart failed her, and she would have turned back if the gnat-like voice had allowed her any rest; but it drove her unwillingly onwards. When she reached the spot, she saw a lady in white robes sitting on a stone by the spring. When the lady perceived the girl's alarm, she advanced a few steps to meet her, and offered her her hand, saying, ”Fear nothing, dear child; I will do you no harm. Give good heed to what I tell you, and remember it. In the autumn you will be sought in marriage. Your bridegroom will be as poor as yourself; but do not concern yourself about this, and accept his offered brandy.[38] As you are both good people, I will bring you happiness, and help you to get on; but do not neglect thrift and labour, without which no happiness is lasting. Take this bag, and put it in your pocket; there is nothing in it but a few milk-can pebbles.[39] When you have given birth to your first child, throw a pebble into the well, and I will come to see you.

When the child is baptized, I will be the sponsor. Let no one know of our nocturnal meeting. For the present I say farewell.” At these words the wonderful stranger vanished from the girl's eyes as suddenly as if she had sunk into the ground. Very likely the girl might have thought that this adventure was a dream too, if the bag in her hand had not testified to its reality: it contained twelve stones.

The prediction was fulfilled, and the girl was married in the autumn to a poor labourer. Next year the young wife gave birth to her first child, and remembering what had happened to her on St. John's Eve, she rose secretly from her bed, and threw a pebble into the well. It splashed into the water, and immediately the friendly white-robed lady stood before her, and said, ”I thank you for not forgetting me. Take the child to be baptized on Sunday fortnight, and I will come to church too, and stand sponsor.”

When the child was brought into church on the appointed day, an unknown lady entered, who took it on her lap and had it baptized. When this was done, she tied a silver rouble in the child's swaddling clothes, and gave it back to the mother. The same thing happened at the birth of each successive child, until there were twelve. On the birth of the last child, the lady said to the mother, ”Henceforward you will see me no more, though I shall invisibly watch over you and your children daily.

The water of the well will benefit the children more than the best food.

When the time comes for your daughters to marry, you must give each the rouble which I brought as their G.o.dmother's gift. Until then, do not let them dress finely, but let them wear clean dresses and clean linen both on week-days and Sundays.”

The children grew and throve so well that it was a delight to see them.