Through Finland in Carts Part 16

With the chains of gold she bound it To the pine-tree's topmost branches.

There she rocked the thing of magic, Rocked to life the tender baby, 'Mid the blossoms of the pine-tree, On the fir-top set with needles; Thus the young bear well was nurtured.

Sacred _Otso_ grew and flourished, Quickly grew with graceful movements, Short of feet, with crooked ankles, Wide of mouth and broad of forehead, Short his nose, his fur robe velvet; But his claws were not well fas.h.i.+oned, Neither were his teeth implanted.

Swore the bear a sacred promise That he would not harm the worthy, Never do a deed of evil.

Then _Mielikki_, woodland hostess, Wisest maid of _Tapiola_, Sought for teeth and claws to give him, From the stoutest mountain-ashes, From the juniper and oak-tree, From the dry knots of the alder.

Teeth and claws of these were worthless, Would not render goodly service.

Grew a fir-tree on the mountain, Grew a stately pine in Northland, And the fir had silver branches, Bearing golden cones abundant; These the sylvan maiden gathered, Teeth and claws of these she fas.h.i.+oned, In the jaws and feet of _Otso_ Set them for the best of uses.

Taught him how to walk a hero.

He freely gave his life to others.

These are only a few stanzas taken haphazard from _Kalevala_, but they give some idea of its power.

At the Festival we met, among the Runo performers, a delightful woman.

About forty, fat and broad, she had a cheerful countenance and kindly eyes, and she sang--if such dirges could be called singing--old Finnish songs, all of which seemingly lacked an end. She was absolutely charming, however, perfectly natural and unaffected, and when we got her in a corner, away from the audience, proved even more captivating than before the public.

First she sang a cradle song, and, as she moaned out the strange music, she patted her foot up and down and swayed her body to and fro, as though she were nursing a baby. She was simply frank too, and when asked to sing one particular song exclaimed--

"Oh yes, I can sing that beautifully; I sing it better than any one on the East Coast of Finland."

Abundant tears shed for no sufficient cause--for no cause at all, indeed--would seem to be a characteristic of these lady vocalists.

The singer of the bear legend wore a beautiful red-brocaded cap. In fact, her attire was altogether remarkable; her skirt, a pretty shade of purple shot with gold silk, was cut in such a way as to form a sort of corset bodice with braces across the shoulders, under which she wore a white chemisette. A beautiful, rich, red silk ap.r.o.n, and a set of well-chosen coloured scarves drawn across the breast completed her costume and added to the fantastic colouring and picturesqueness of the whole. She was very friendly; again and again she shook hands with us all in turn, and, during one of the most mournful of her songs, she sat so close to me that her elbow rested in my lap, while real tears coursed down her cheeks. It was quite touching to witness the true emotion of the woman; she rocked herself to and fro, and mopped her eyes with a neatly folded white cotton handkerchief, the while she seemed totally oblivious of our presence and enwrapped in her music. When she had finished she wiped away her tears, and then, as if suddenly recalled from another world, she appeared to realise the fact that we were present, and, overcome with grief, she apologised most abjectly for having forgotten herself so far as to cry before the strange ladies!

This was no affectation; the woman was downrightly sorry, and it was not until we had patted her fondly and smiled our best thanks that she could be pacified at all and believe we were not offended.

In her calmer moments she drew, as we thought, a wonderful purse from under her ap.r.o.n--a cloth embroidered thing with beads upon it. Great was our surprise to discover that it contained snuff, from which she helped herself at intervals during the entertainment, never omitting to offer us some before she took her own pinch.

This unexpected generosity reminded us of an incident that occurred while crossing the Grosser Glockner mountain in the Tyrol, when we were overtaken by a violent snowstorm. Being above the snow line the cold and wind were intense. One of the guides, feeling sorry for us and evidently thinking we looked blue with cold, produced from his _rucksack_ a large flask which contained his dearly loved schnapps. He unscrewed the cork and gravely offered it to us each in turn. There was no gla.s.s, nor did he even attempt to wipe the rim, although but an hour before we had seen all the guides drinking from the same bottle.

This equality of cla.s.s is always to be found in lands where civilisation has not stepped in. "Each man is as good as his neighbour" is a motto in the remote parts of Finland, as it is in the Bavarian Highlands and other less-known parts. What the peasants have, they give freely; their goodness of heart and thoughtfulness are remarkable.

The _Runo_ woman, who wept so unrestrainedly, had most beautiful teeth, and her smile added a particular charm to her face. When she was not singing she busied herself with spinning flax on the usual wooden oar, about five feet long and much carved and ornamented at one end. On the top, at the opposite end, was a small flat piece like another oar blade, only broader and shorter, fixed at such an angle that when she sat down upon it the carved piece stood up slant-wise beside her. Halfway up the blade some coloured cotton bands secured a bundle of flax, while in her hand she held a bobbin on to which she wove the thread.

She was never idle, for, when not occupied in singing to us, she spent her time spinning, always repeating, however, the second line of the other performers.

Another woman danced with her head bent low, a very strange slow shuffle round and round, something like an Arab measure, but after a while she broke into a sort of waltz. The dancing, like the _Runo_ music, was primitive.

These _Runo_ singers could but be regarded as a connecting link between the present and the past.

Here were people, the representatives of generations gone before, who had handed down by word of mouth the runes of that wonderful epic, the _Kalevala_. Just such folk as these had sat during long winters in their small wooden huts, practically windowless; besides, it was generally too cold to put back the wooden shutter, used for economy instead of gla.s.s, for more than a few moments at a time; they had sat in the dusk chanting the songs of their land, the mystic lines of which they had sucked in almost with their mother's milk, until music and verse filled their very souls. The weird, the wild, the fantastic, had become their nature. The mind loves to dwell on the supernatural, the unreal; and in those lonely, dreary, darkened lives mythological legends flourished as mushrooms in a cellar. The population literally feasted on the mythical, just as the twentieth century society revels in Christian Science, Theosophy, or New Thought.

As the women applied the scrutcher to the flax, or carded the wool, they dreamed wild dreams of ghosts and goblins, and repeated to themselves, in queer chant, the stories of the sacred bear, or those beautiful lines to the sun and the moon to be found in _Kalevala_. They lived again with _Ahti_, the Finnish sea G.o.d, otherwise called _Lemminkainen_; or the husband invoked the aid of charms, as at his work he recited how _Lemminkainen_ reached _Pohjola_ but to quarrel and fight, and related verses showing how he finally cut off the head of the representative champion of the beautiful _Louhi_. Or wild stories of an ox with a thousand heads engrossed their fancy, and they lingered fondly over the tales of the hundred horns to plough up the land. Or, again, the old wife would chime in with the weird rune where _Wainamoinen's_ harp blew into the sea, when a boat was manned with a thousand oars to fetch it back, but _Wainamoinen_ destroyed that boat by means of magic.

_Louhi_ then changed herself into an eagle, with claws and scythes of iron, and wondrous breastplate, while on her wings she bore aloft a thousand armed men, and upon her tail sat a hundred archers, and ten upon every feather.

With one wing she sweeps the heavens, With the other sweeps the waters.

This is cleverly represented in a picture by _Gallen_, a well-known Finnish artist.

In another stirring verse, the poem goes on to tell how _Louhi_ swooped down upon the heroes, when desperate battle ensued for the treasure under dispute.

Wounded and exhausted, _Louhi_ threw the treasure into the sea rather than surrender it, emblematic still in the tenacity of the Finnish race.

CHAPTER VII

MANNERS AND CUSTOMS

Such are the manners and customs of the past; now let us take a look at the _Suomi_ of to-day, that we may better understand the life of the people before we start on our trip in carts through the interior of that enchanting but far-away land.

For some hundreds of years Finland belonged to Sweden, and the stamp of Sweden is to be found on its inhabitants; especially among the aristocracy, who still speak that language in their homes. But in 1808 Russia stepped across the frontier, seized Finland, annexed it as her own, and a year later the King of Sweden renounced all his claims.

Since Finland was ceded to Russia, the Russian sovereigns, as Grand Dukes of Finland, have on the whole faithfully observed the pledges given to the Grand Duchy by Alexander I., though, especially in recent years, they have been frequently broken.

It was because the Finlanders behaved so well that the Tzar conceded much, and left them their independent const.i.tution and their Lutheran Church. The Tzar is really the Grand Duke of Finland. The Governor-General is President of the Senate, which is the real Executive Body in Finland. The Diet has no executive power; only legislative authority. It is composed of four Houses--the n.o.bles, the Clergy, the Burghers, and the Peasants. The members of Parliament meet every third year, and have the power of voting money, altering the const.i.tutional laws of the country, and regulating commercial enterprise.

Since 1863 has come the renaissance of Finland. Art, literature, industry, commerce, and politics have revived. The people saw themselves once more a nation conscious of its own gigantic tenacity of soul, prompted with a knowledge of its destiny, though sneered at, and threatened on all sides by famine, contempt, and absorption. Finland is like a man who has slept long and suddenly wakes up refreshed, with renewed vigour to work. That is why he has come so much forward in the last quarter of the century, and is now prepared to make gigantic strides. Learned, artistic, commercial, and athletic societies sprang up, each imbued with a fresh and sincere national enthusiasm.

Tournaments were held for _ski_, rifle-shooting, yachting, and other sports. Attention was called to the ancient songs and national music, and the great musical festivals, such as was held at _Sordavala_, were reinstated.

Parliament began meeting regularly, and hope beamed brightly.

Nevertheless danger is lurking within and without, for the Finlanders speak three languages; the _Finlanders_ themselves only speak Finnish, the more educated people speak Swedish, and in official circles they must know Russian, a language which has been forced upon them; while the great Russian people are ready to overwhelm and absorb, and march over them to new fields. Still, as a Finlander truly said to the writer, "The destiny of a people is in the hands of the Lord, and Finland has courage in G.o.d;" and therefore it is possible a great future may be in store for that beautiful country, beautiful whether we peep at _Tavasland_, _Karelen_, or _osterbotten_.

The people in _Tavasland_ are fair-haired, slow, but exceedingly tenacious, and also somewhat boorish. Here the princ.i.p.al towns, manufactures, etc., are to be found. Many of the inhabitants speak Swedish, and all have been influenced by Sweden.

The following little anecdote gives some idea of the character of the natives of _Tavasland_:--

A fortress was besieged by the Russians in 1808. After a severe struggle it was at last taken by a.s.sault, when the Russians discovered that fifty-five out of the sixty defenders were dead. _But none had yielded!_

The people are determined and persevering, and it is no uncommon thing for a lad to follow the plough until he is thirteen years of age, reading for his school and his university, and finally taking his M.A.

degree, and even becoming a Professor.

The people of the _Karelen_ district are quicker and of lighter heart.

They are nearer to Russia, and the Russian influence is distinctly seen.

They are not so cleanly or so highly educated as the rest of the country, but they are musical and artistic.

One must remember the word Finn implies native peasant; the upper cla.s.ses are called Finlanders. Until lately the two spoken languages of Finland represented two parties. The Finns were the native peasants who only spoke Finnish, the Radical party practically--the upper cla.s.ses who spoke Swedish among themselves were known as _Svecomans_, and roughly represented the Conservatives. But since the serious troubles early in the twentieth century, these two parties have been more closely drawn together against Russia, and _Finlander_ is the common name for both Finnish-speaking and Swedish-speaking people. _Finn_ is often used as synonymous with Finlander. There are Swedish peasants as well as Finnish; and while the Finn speaks only Finnish, the Finlander only knew Swedish until quite lately, except what he was pleased to call "Kitchen Finnish," for use amongst his servants; but every year the Finlander is learning more and more of his native language, and Swedish bids fair to be relegated to the cla.s.sics as far as Finland is concerned.

The _Fennomans_ take interest in, and work for the Finnish language, literature, and culture; while the _Svecomans_, who are princ.i.p.ally composed of the old Swedish families, try to maintain the old Swedish culture in Finland.

Since 1899 Finland's relations with Russia and the defence of the Finnish Const.i.tution is the princ.i.p.al question in politics.

Party strife is terrible. It would be far better if the _Fennomans_ and _Svecomans_ tried to remember that their real object is the same, namely, the welfare of their own country, and turned their attention only in that direction instead of to petty and often ridiculous political squabblings.