Part 8 (1/2)
CHAPTER VIII.
”Oh, how happy here's our leisure!
Oh, how innocent our pleasure!”
_The Complete Angler._
John Hardy received a letter from his mother, dated from Hardy Place.
”My dearest John,
”Your weekly letters have become shorter, and I have read between the lines that you are keeping back something from your mother; but this doubt has been made a certainty from a letter of Robert Garth's to his friends here. He writes, so I hear, that the 'governor' is sweet on a parson's daughter in Denmark. Now, I know, dearest John, that you will always be the true gentleman your father was; but this has distressed me, because you say yourself nothing. Do come home to me. I miss the sound of your footstep, the manly voice that reminds me of your father, and, above all, your kindly manner to your mother. Write at once, as my anxiety is more than I can bear.”
There was more in the letter, breathing the same deep affectionate solicitude a mother alone feels. John Hardy wrote at once.
”My dearest Mother,
”If I had anything to tell you, I should have told you long ago. I have described Pastor Lindal's family to you in my letters, and, I can only add, my respect for him grows daily. He does his duty with a simplicity that is difficult to be understood in England, and I have learnt to look forward to hearing his Sunday sermons, from their freshness such as single-mindedness alone gives. I feel more the earnestness of religion and the simplicity with which it should be invested from the influence of his character. I know you will say that this has nothing to do with Frken Helga Lindal, his daughter, and you want to hear of her. All I can say is, that her character is what would attract you. She does her duty in the Pastor's household with simple exactness; she a.s.sists in visiting the parish, and is of material use to her father in this respect. She is spoken of everywhere and by all in praise and regard, and she is like her father--simple and true. I cannot say that I do not admire so perfect a nature, but I do not feel now a wish to ask her to be my wife, and if I did she would say 'no.' Her father is a widower, and his daughter is his right hand. His two boys, who are really good lads, have to be considered, and Frken Helga's influence over them is complete. Her leaving her father would leave him una.s.sisted, and his two sons without the influence she alone possesses. She knows and sees this, and would sacrifice her life to her sense of duty. If she cared for me, there would be no difference; that would be sacrificed too. I can a.s.sure you that I shall never bring any one to Hardy Place that my mother cannot receive as her daughter. The kind affection and care you have always shown me is dearer to me than houses and land and wealth or the strongest feelings of selfishness.
”I hope, dear mother, that this will set your mind at rest.
”If you wish me to come home, I will do so; but I wish to stay longer, and when you see there is no real cause for anxiety, you may have no objection. The days pa.s.s pleasantly here. I teach the two boys English every day. They fish with me for trout in the river, the Gudenaa, and we make excursions together, and occasionally we visit a Danish family in the neighbourhood; and the genuine kindness I receive everywhere interests me. In the evenings Pastor Lindal is conversational, and his conversation is like his sermons, always fresh. There is no one thought harped upon and torn to tatters. To say he is a man of original thought would not describe him--it is individuality and simplicity; there is nothing extraordinary or unusual, but a clearness of colour, like a diamond, which is the more valuable when it has no colour.”
John Hardy wrote a little more on home affairs at Hardy Place, and closed his letter.
In the evening, when the Pastor's pipe was as usual lighted by his daughter, Hardy asked him as to the superst.i.tions in Denmark, and if they then were prevalent and had any force.
”They are endless,” said the Pastor, ”and in every conceivable direction. There is no land so full of traditional superst.i.tion as Jutland.”
”When in Norway,” said Hardy, ”the superst.i.tion that struck me most was that of the Huldr, who in different districts was differently described. Generally the Huldr was described as a tall fair woman, with a yellow bodice and a blue skirt, with long fair yellow hair loose over the shoulders; but she was as hollow as a kneading trough, and had a cow's tail. She was described as coming to the Saeter farms on the fjelds, after they were vacated by the Norwegian farmers, with a quant.i.ty of cattle and milking cans; and I have heard the cattle call sang by Norwegians that they have heard the Huldr sing. I have spoken with people who have seen the Huldr, and described her to me with a vividness as if it were a real personage. I have heard people say they have seen her knitting, sitting on a rock with a ball of worsted thrown out before her, to entice mortals to take it up, when they must follow where she would lead.”
”We have not that superst.i.tion in Jutland,” said the Pastor; ”that is begotten of the lonely life in the isolated farms in the fields in Norway and their interminable woods and natural wildness of nature.
Our superst.i.tions are, as I said, endless. They consist of historical traditions of a supernatural character, of traditions attached to places, as old houses, churches, also of particular men, of hidden treasure, of robbers, and the like. Then there are the more supernatural superst.i.tions, as of witches, ghosts, the devil, of Trolds, of mermen and mermaids, of Nissen, like your English pixey, of the three-legged horse that inhabits the churchyards, the were-wolf, the gnome that inhabits the elder tree, the nightmare, or, as we call it, Maren. There is also the tradition of gigantic dragons or serpents, called by us Lindorm, in which your story of St. George and the dragon prominently figures. There are also minor superst.i.tions of the will-o'-the-wisp, the bird called in English the goatsucker, and the cla.s.sical Basilisk.”
”But surely all those superst.i.tions cannot exist now?” inquired Hardy.
”I do not say they do; but they are hidden to a greater extent in the recesses of the hearts of the people than you would imagine.”
”Can you relate anything of these superst.i.tions?” said Hardy. ”It would interest me beyond everything.”
”Yes,” said the Pastor. ”I will give you an example in any one of the particular traditions I have mentioned, and I will begin with the historical superst.i.tion, as I mentioned that first.
”When King Gylfe reigned in Sweden, a woman came to him, and she enchanted him so by her singing that he gave her leave to plough so much of his land as she could in a day with four oxen, and what she thus ploughed should be hers. This woman was of the race of the giants (Aseme). She took her four sons and changed them into oxen, and attached them to the plough. She ploughed out the place she had chosen, and thus created the island of Sjaelland. She did this from the Maelar lake in Sweden; and it is said that where there is a point of land in Sjaelland there is in the Maelar lake a bay, and vice versa, so that both the Maelar lake and Sjaelland island have one form, one is land, the other water. This tradition is common over Denmark, and with us has become cla.s.sical. The woman's name was Gefion.”
”I have seen a delineation of the tradition,” said Hardy, ”at one of your Danish palaces, on a ceiling at Fredriksborg.”
”Yes, it is there; but you will find it everywhere in Denmark,”
replied the Pastor. ”Of traditions of churches, they are endless; but we will take one example, possibly by no means the best. When Hadderup church, between Viborg and Holstebro, was building, the Trolds tore down every night what had been erected in the day. It was therefore determined to attach two calves to a load of stones in a waggon, and where the calves were found in the morning to build the church. This, however, did not answer, and at last an agreement was made with the Trolds that they should allow the church to be built, on the condition that they should have the first bride that went to the church. This succeeded, and the church was built. When the first bridal procession should, however, go to the church, at a particular place a sudden mist fell upon them, and when it cleared off the bride had disappeared.”