Collected Works of Johan Ludvig Runeberg

by Johan Ludvig Runeberg

  The quality of satisfying this almost universal rhythmic sense, carrying us along with its currents of measured motion, can therefore be claimed by all verse, even if sometimes unpoetic in imagery; and with the incorporation of rhyme, alliteration, consonance, assonance, and other artifices, the metrical form constitutes for pure poetic thought the most beautiful vesture.

  By these processes, and his innate perception of truth and beauty, Runeberg seems to have discovered and set forth for ear and thought every poetic element lying latent within his subjects, often surprisingly infusing it even into his character-portrayals.

  But many of the Sagner are highly poetic in matter and loftily classic in treatment. In Canto Third, The Cloud’s Brother, we constantly discern the Homeric and Virgilian touch. Elaborate in its finesse, and stately in its development, its similes are the re-incarnation of the long slumbering Southern epic, and speak to us over the chasm of thousands of years. An excerpt from this Canto will exemplify:

  “As when toward the eve, a summer whirlwind, When all nature, Sabbath-like, Is silent, Comes alone, unseen, swift as an arrow, Striking down in forest-lake, while moveth Plant nor leaf, nor is the pine-tree shaken, Nor on rocky strand a floweret wavers, —

  Calm is all, the sea-depths only seething; —

  So, when smote this strain the young man’s spirit, Sat he speechless, motionless, and shrinking; From his heart each word the blood had driven.”

  Let us collate this simile with the following from Dryden’s Aeneid, Lib. X:

  “As when in summer welcome winds arise, The watchful shepherd to the forest flies, And fires the midmost plants; contagion spreads, And catching flames infect the neighboring heads; Around the forest flies the furious blast, And all the leafy nation sinks at last, And Vulcan rides in triumph o’er the waste; The pastor, pleased with his dire victory, Beholds the satiate flames in sheets ascend the sky; —

  So Pallas’ troops their scattered strength unite, And pouring on their foes, their prince delight.”

  And with another from Chapman’s Iliad, Lib. XI:

  “As when the flakes Of snow fall thick upon a winter day, When Jove, the Sovereign, pours them down on men, Like arrows from above; he bids the wind Breathe not; continually he pours them down, And covers every mountain-top and peak, And flowery mead, and field of fertile tilth, And sheds them on the havens and the shores Of the gray deep; but there the wafers bound The covering of snows, — all else is white Beneath the fast descending shower of Jove; —

  So thick the shower of stones from either side Flew toward the other, — from the Greeks against The Trojans, and from them against the Greeks; And fearful was the din along the wall.”

  Again with a third simile from Pope’s Odyssey, Lib. X:

  “As from fresh pastures and the dewy field, (When looted cribs their dewy banquet yield), The lowing herds return; around them throng With leaps and bounds their late imprisoned young, Rush to their mothers with unrul joy, And echoing hills return the tender cry; —

  So round me pressed, exulting at my sight, With cries and agonies of wild delight, The weeping sailors, nor less fierce their joy Than if returned to Ithaca from Troy.”

  Were the metrical vehicles identical in the Runeberg Canto and the three classical quotations given, how easily one could imagine the four to be excerpts from one and the same epic! And had the translators of the classics employed the better meter, the trochaic pentameter of this canto of Runeberg, instead of the iambic pentameter (the customary but inadequate metrical vehicle of the great epics), they would, though with greatly augmented labor, have approached much nearer to the effect of the original spondaic and dactylic hexameter, since at least the traditional accent then would have been retained on the initial syllable of each poetic foot. The Runeberg meter affords a much closer parallel than theirs to the classic form, although both lack the dactyls.

  But what our Poet borrowed he made thoroughly his own. Not for a moment is his individuality lost in these Virgilian and Homeric moulds. When he employs them, it is because no others would be so appropriate.

  Frequent touches of classicism and sublimity appear throughout the cycle. Sveaborg, Dobeln at Juutas, The Ensign’s Greeting, and Adlercreutz, all move with lofty tone and majestic tread.

  And where can purer lyricism, deeper sensibility, or more sincere emotion be found than in The Cottage Maiden, The Dying Warrior, The Soldier Boy, The Stranger’s Vision, or The Brothers? And what poet of any nation or time has portrayed martial characters and scenes more vividly than Runeberg in the songs not specifically mentioned? And where, in all literature, has a mightier love for native land been pictured than in Our Land and The Fifth of July? Or a more admirable tribute awarded to military prowess than in Kulneff, Munter, or Wilhelm von Schwerin?

  Runeberg’s language is so simple (often monosyllabic) that a corresponding simplicity in translation often becomes incompatible with the demands of rhythm and rhyme; and to this consideration must be added the fact that many of the songs embody localisms and expressions pertaining to certain stations in life, where the lofty epic style, which must be maintained thoughout Frithiof’s Saga, would not here be at all in keeping. And as our English two-syllable rhymes are so sparse, a true translation of a poem like Munter, where every line must end with such a rhyme, becomes possible only in so far as our language will permit it; for if the English rhymes exist, they need not escape the translator; and if they do not exist, he must not be censured. Nor must he be confined to Anglo-Saxon derivatives, since all our derivatives are Anglicized, and all are so imperatively required in his task. As the difficulty of translation always lies at this end of the line, — in the language into which the original is to be brought over, — translations are therefore no more difficult from one language than from another. A Swedish poem is as translatable into English as a German or French poem is, — no more so, no less so. Yet we constantly hear the dictum that “Swedish cannot be rendered in English.”

  If the original words have representatives as poetical in the new language as in the old, the translation should be as good; if less poetical, it would not be so good; if more poetical, which may sometimes be the case, a literal reproduction might excel the original. This might happen without other credit than literality to the translator. One can readily see how a literal translation of a certain particular line from any language to another could surpass the original. Should these language-conditions, then, be charged to the translator? A good translation of some lines might be far easier than an inferior translation of other lines. To ferry some lines across the Stygian language gulf in the English skiff without capsizing, might prove an enigma to the skillful Charon himself.

  In comparing a translation with its original, when we have from earliest childhood had the original sounding in our ears, we are not quite prepared to listen to the reproduction of it in the new tongue.

  We are constantly awaiting a recurrence of the vowel sounds of the original, especially in the rhyming syllables; we are almost as constantly expecting the same consonant sound at the corresponding point in a line. And we are constantly disappointed. We are subconsciously unwilling to let a new series of oral elements or processes carry the poem. We resent the intrusive accents of a strange voice. We cannot quite tolerate the sacrifice of the familiar vowel and consonant succession; for poetry is to us a matter of sound as well as of thought, and of course a translated poem cannot sound like the original. A man does not look natural when clad in a totally different garb, though to one who sees him for the first time in this garb, there appears nothing strange about him. In order impartially to estimate a poem in a new tongue, all remembrance of the vowel-consonant successions of the old would have to be forced out of memory — an extremely difficult and practically impossible process. For if this succession is not new, then the poem would still be in the original language, I believe.

  As to whether a poem is a good literary and poetic product in the new language, one who knows it in the original is
, caeteris paribus, predisposed to judge it adversely, since he cannot divest his ear of the sound of the old; it still lingers; the old-time impression holds; continual disappointment supervenes; — but as to whether it is a correct reproduction of the original, he and he alone is prepared to determine. So I trust the Swedish scholars will extend to this offering due indulgence on these various points.

  The desire of the translator in this effort, as in the case of Tegner’s Frithiof’s Saga, of Wallin’s Dodens Angel, and of The Lyric Poetry of Sweden, is to contribute toward bringing over into our language some of the wonderful poetic literature of the North.

  In conclusion I wish to thank Mr. Ernst Skarstedt, Mr. Oliver A. Linder, Dr. Peter Froeberg, Prof. Frans Ericson, Rev. S. G. Hagglund and Rev. L. F. Nordstrom, for valuable suggestions given during the preparation of this work.

  New York, January 1924.

  CLEMENT BURBANK SHAW.

  FOREWORD: THE WAR IN FINLAND, 1808-1809

  BY REV. LAWRENCE F. NORDSTROM, B. D.

  The Historical Setting of the War.

  Upon the throne of Sweden had come Gustavus IV Adolphus in 1796. Early in life he had shown signs of great promise. He loved order, justice and economy, and strove for the attainment of high ideals. His good qualities were too often misdirected; for he lacked strength, and had some serious faults which revealed themselves the more as years passed. He had not the gifts of a regent; and this proved the more disastrous to his kingdom, since he did not surround himself with influential and trusted advisers. He held tenaciously to personal sentiment and opinion, and was absolutely unwilling to sacrifice them even for the common welfare of his subjects. He hated Napoleon of France; and, tending strongly toward mysticism, believed him the “monster” of Revelation, and himself the re-incarnation of Charles XII of Sweden, divinely charged to conquer and deliver Europe from the “Corsican beast.” Alexander the First held the reins of government in Russia, having come to the throne in 1801. He showed a very active and intelligent interest in all matters of state, internal as well as foreign, but his enthusiasm was quickly cooled by practical difficulties. He sought expansion of territory and of power, and often without regard to the interests of others.

  France was in a state of upheaval about this time. The revolution, inevitable result of the errors of centuries, had broken out, deposing royalty and embroiling factions in war, till at length the victorious Napoleon Bonaparte, the military and diplomatic genius of France, proclaimed himself emperor in 1804. Napoleon possessed a strong will, well nigh indomitable, power of quick decision and tenacity of purpose. He dreamed of gaining dominion overall Europe; and this, added to his genius and power, made him the terror of Europe in war and diplomacy. Coalitions among the nations to nullify his power were numerous.

  The powers in the north, — Sweden, Russia and Denmark, — were in combination for the purpose of keeping enemy powers out of the Baltic Sea. These united with England, Austria and Italy in war against Napoleon. Russia, however, after suffering defeat in her struggles with France, broke away from the alliance. An alliance between Alexander and Napoleon was formed at Tilsit in July 1807, and the two emperors forthwith became as close friends as they before had been enemies.

  The Cause of the War.

  The seed, which brought forth the war of 1808 and 1809 in Finland, was sown at this meeting of the emperors. Napoleon, with his personal influence, captivated Alexander, and soon put him wholly under his power. He convinced him of the great advantages in territorial expansion which an alliance between the two countries would have; and the two emperors practically divided all Europe between them at this time. But Alexander’s eyes were on Turkey. To turn the emperor away from that direction, Napoleon skillfully directed his attention to Finland, as a necessary acquisition preliminary to the contemplated future conquest of Sweden.

  A plan was drawn up, inspired by Napoleon. Russia was to demand of Sweden that she shut out from the Baltic the ships of England, — a demand that Sweden was expected to refuse; whereupon Russia was to declare war on Sweden, take Finland, and march on to Stockholm, Sweden’s capital. Simultaneously Sweden was to be invaded in the south by a French army with Danish assistance, and in the west by a Norwegian army. The three armies were to meet at Stockholm. To this plan Alexander readily assented, the more so since Russia for centuries had desired suitable outlets to the sea, and considered the acquisition of Finland as best filling this need. Thus did Napoleon annihilate Russian opposition, and plan for revenge upon his enemy in the north.

  The Preparations for the War.

  The demand was formally made by Russia, and Sweden immediately refused. Russia demanded that Sweden comply with the treaty relative to closing the Baltic, but Sweden declared the treaty void in consequence of Alexander’s treacherous desertion to Napoleon. Negotiations continued, but war was not immediately declared. Neither power really desired war. Alexander hoped, although against hope, that Sweden would accede to the demand. He acted treacherously, but could not withdraw; he was in Napoleon’s power, and feared Napoleon’s strength. Gustavus of Sweden, despite entreaties of Sweden’s statesmen to show a conciliatory spirit for the sake of the national welfare, obdurately refused to yield the least in his position. War became inevitable, and broke out in February of 1808.

  Russia began preparations for war simultaneously with her demand upon Sweden, and massed all available man-power, approximately 24,000 men, at the Finnish border, taking care all the while greatly to misrepresent and exaggerate her strength. Russia in reality was not very strong, due to the exertions of the three preceding years against France, but the morale of her troops was yet good. With the remainder of her large army, Russia was at the same time engaged in Lithuania and Poland. The Finnish force was placed under Buxhovden, as commander-in-chief, and was divided into three forces along Finland’s eastern boundary, — one in the north at Savolaks under Tufschkoff, one in the south under Gertschakoff, and one between these at Kymmene River under Bagration and Kamenski.

  Sweden neglected for a long time defensive measures. The king considered it impossible to defend Finland during the winter, and therefore sent only a small force thither, while the bulk of Sweden’s army was sent to the southern and western boundaries, to cope with the foes there menacing. The king planned to avoid fighting as much as possible in Finland, to save the army through retreat until spring, and then to retake all territory lost.

  The Finns themselves, however, were not so calm. The aged Klercker, over seventy years old, commander-in-chief in Finland, proceeded to call Finland’s men to arms, and in an amazingly short time was successful in bringing together a powerful and determined force, ready to fight and to die for home and beloved native land. Gustavus himself, at length aroused by the apparent greatness and earnestness of the enemy’s preparations, hurriedly sent assistance to put the army into fighting condition, sent supplies to replete the stores, and appointed General Klingspor commander-in-chief. In Finland was thus formed an army of 20,000, divided into three divisions, — one at the Kymmene River, under Palmfelt, one at St. Mickel in Savolaks under Cronstedt, and one under Adlercreutz in Osterbotten, with a small detachment in each of the fortifications, Sveaborg, Svartholm and Hango.

  The War.

  At length the struggle began. Without any formal declaration of war, the Russians crossed the border on February 21st, 1808. Buxhovden and his chief of staff, Sprengtporten, accompanied the southern division, which crossed without much difficulty at several places, particularly at Keltis, Anjala and Abborfors.

  Almost the first step of the Russian commander was to issue two proclamations, — one to the populace, inviting to a change of allegiance and promising imperial favors in return, and the other to the pastors, promising the same favor with the emperor in return for delivering the people to Russia. The insulting offers were scornfully rejected. A few insignificant skirmishes followed; the cities on the southern coast, Lovisa and Borga, were easily taken, as was also Helsingfors, where the Russians
expected to meet strong opposition. The Finnish troops, far outnumbered by the foe, retreated northward to Tavastehus, ordered to do so by Klercker, commander during Klingspor’s leave of absence, who intended massing his men there for a concentrated attack upon the enemy.

  When the troops assembled, a council of war was held. Klercker and his noble warriors were for attack; but Klingspor, who had now arrived and taken up the command, urged retreat. The king had ordered him to protect the troops as much as possible, and the cowardly Klingspor thought this could best be done by retreat. No amount of persuasion by either his chief-of-staff, Lowenhjelm, or any one else could change the general’s mind, and there was no recourse but to obey his order. Accordingly, on the evening of the 6th of March the retreat began, and the army of about 7,000 men, divided into two divisions, proceeded, one under Palmfelt, which Klingspor himself accompanied to Bjorneborg and up the coast, and the other under Adlercreutz through Tammerfors and then northward, suffering keenly from privation and the winter’s intense cold, but most of all from being compelled to retreat, as though already vanquished, before they had struck a single blow.

  The other Russian divisions crossed the border and advanced with as little difficulty, meeting the enemy in only minor encounters. The Finns, under Cronstedt, gave way; and, in obedience to an order from Klingspor, retreated trough Kuopio and Idensalmi to Uleaborg.

  The day following Klingspor’s departure from Tavastehus, a small company of the enemy reached there, and, needless to say, despised the cowardly foe more than ever. Buxhovden decided to purse, but deemed only a small company necessary for the purpose, and sent the rest to besiege the strongholds and to guard Abo, Aland and Gotland, that Sweden might be prevented from sending reinforcements. Abo was easily taken on March 22nd. Svartholm fortress, near by, had been betrayed into Russian hands by its faithless commander, and surrendered on the 18th of March. Hango was conquered. The Russians had 11,000 men in southern Finland, scattered throughout the territory, while the defending forces were small and inadequate. Encouraged by the easy conquest, Buxhovden now wrote to his sovereign, laying Finland at his feet as practically conquered; and Alexander then served notice on the nations of Europe of his intention to annex Finland to Russia. This was the formal declaration of war.