consented; but when she had brought it in she was obliged again to
withdraw, her heart full of anguish. When she came out to Harald she
poured out to him all her pain over the unfortunate project, and related
to him the deep agitation of mind, and the dark, despairing words of her
lady.
At this Harald became pale and thoughtful, and Susanna at that was still
more depressed. To be sure she had yet a little mine of pleasures
remaining, on whose explosion she had very much pleased herself, but
this in the disturbed state of mind produced but little effect. It is
true that Harald smiled, and exclaimed, "The cross!" when a waistcoat
made its appearance out of a wheaten loaf; it is true that he thanked
Susanna and pressed her hand, but he had evidently so little pleasure in
her present, his thoughts were so plainly directed to something else,
that now every gleam of pleasure vanished for Susanna from the Christmas
joy. When she was alone in her chamber, and saw from her window how a
little beam of light proceeded from every cottage in the valley, and she
thought how within them were assembled in confidential circles, parents,
children, brothers and sisters, and friends, then felt she painfully
that she was lonesome in a strange land; and as she remembered how
formerly on this evening she made her little Hulda happy, and how
fortunate her projects had always been, she took out a handkerchief
which had been worn on the neck of the little beloved sister, and
covered it with hot tears and kisses. Great part of the night she passed
on the threshold of her lady's door, listening full of anguish to the
never-ceasing footsteps within. But with the exception of several deep
sighs, Susanna heard no expression of pain which might justify her in
breaking in upon the solitude of her mistress.
We will now turn ourselves to a somewhat more lively picture.
There exists in Norway a pleasant custom, which is called Tura-jul, or
Christmas-turns. In Christmas week, namely, people go out to visit one
another by turns, and then in the hospitable houses is there feasting,
sporting, and dancing. That is called "the Christmas-turns."
And the "turns" extended also to the remote-lying solitary Heimdal. The
pastor of the mother parish, the friendly and hospitable pastor,
Middelberg, had sent an invitation to friends and acquaintances in the
whole neighbourhood, which included also the inhabitants of Semb, to a
feast at the parsonage, on the second day of Christmas.
Mrs. Astrid excused herself, but besought Harald and Susanna to drive
there. It had frozen a few days before, and had freshly snowed, so that
the sledging was excellent, and Harald now again in good humour seemed
disposed to make a little festival of driving Susanna to the parsonage
in a small sledge with jingling bells.
Mrs. Astrid had regained her accustomed manner and appearance, and thus
Susanna was easy as to all consequences of her unfortunate scheme on
Christmas-eve, and could give herself up with a free mind to the
agreeable impressions which the winter-drive offered. And these were
manifold and rich to a person who was so little used to pleasure of any
kind as Susanna, and who, besides this, was of a fresh, open spirit. The
air was so clear, the snow was so dazzling, mountain and woods so
splendid, the horse so spirited, and Harald drove so indescribably well,
the most difficult places being to him mere play-work, that Susanna
exclaimed every now and then, "Oh, how beautiful! Oh, how divine!"
With all this, Harald was uncommonly polite and entertaining. Attentive
in the extreme that Susanna sate comfortably, was warm about the feet,
and so on, laid himself out at the same time to make her acquainted with
all wonders and beauties of the district; besides which he related much
that was interesting of the peculiarities of the neighbourhood, of its
woods, mountains, and kinds of stones, spoke of the primeval mountains
and transition-formations, of that which had existed before the Flood,
and of that which had been formed after it, so that Susanna was
astonished at his great learning, and a feeling of reverence for him was
excited in her mind. It is true that she forgot this for one while, in a
quarrel which suddenly arose between them respecting the sun, which,
according to Harald's assertion, must appear brighter in Norway than in
Sweden, which Susanna contended against most vehemently, and assured him
of exactly the opposite; and about the strata of air, of which Susanna
asserted that they lay in Norway different to Sweden; upon the whole,
however, the drive was harmonious, and in the highest degree
advantageous to Harald's appearance. By his driving, his politeness, and
his learning, he had attained to something quite grand and extraordinary
in Susanna's eyes.
When, after a drive of about six miles, they approached the
parsonage-house, they saw from all sides the little sledges issuing from
the passes of the valleys, and then hastening forward in the same
direction as themselves across the fields of snow. Steaming breath came
from the nostrils of the snorting horses, and merrily jingled the bells
in the clear air. Susanna was enraptured.
No less was she enraptured by the cordiality with which she saw herself
received at the parsonage--she, a foreign serving-maiden--by foreign,
wealthy, and respectable people. Susanna was, besides this, very curious
to see bow things looked, and how they went on, in a respectable
parsonage in Norway; and it was therefore very agreeable to her, when
the kind Madame Middelberg invited her to see the house, and allowed her
to be conducted by her eldest daughter, Thea Middelberg, everywhere,
from the cellar even to the garret. Susanna, after this, felt great
esteem for the arrangements in the parsonage-house; thought that she
could learn various things from it; other things, however, she thought
would have been better according to her Swedish method. Returned to the
company, Susanna found much to notice and much to reflect upon. For the
rest, she was through the whole of this day in a sort of mental
excitement. It seemed to her, as if she saw the picture of comfort and
happiness of which she had sometimes dreamed, here realised. It seemed
to her, that life amid these grand natural scenes and simple manners
must be beautiful. The relationship between parents and children,
between masters and servants, appeared so cordial, so patriarchal. She
heard the servants in the house of the clergyman call him and his wife,
father and mother; she saw the eldest daughter of the house assist in
waiting on the guests, and that so joyously and easily, that one saw
that she did it from her heart; saw a frank satisfaction upon all faces,
a freedom from care, and a simplicity in the behaviour of all; and all
this made Susanna feel quite light at heart, whilst it called forth a
certain tearful glance in her eye.
"Have you pleasure in flowers?" inquired the friendly Thea Middelberg;
and when Susanna declared that she had, she broke off the most beautiful
rose which bloomed in the window and gave to her.
But the greatest pleasure to Susanna was in the two youngest children of
the house, and she thought that the heartful "mora mi" (my mother), was
the most harmonious sound which she had ever heard. And in that Susanna
was right also, for more lovely words than these "mora mi," spoken by
affectionate childish lips, are not in the earth. The little Mina, a
child about Hulda's age, and full of life and animation, was in
particular dear to Susanna, who only wished that the little romp would
have given to herself a longer rest upon her knee. Susanna herself won
quite unwittingly the perfect favour of the hostess, by starting up at
table at a critical moment when the dinner was being served, and with a
light and firm hand saving the things from danger. After this she
continued to give a helpful hand where it was needful. This pleased
much, and they noticed the young Swede with ever kinder eyes; she knew
it, and thought all the more on those who thought of her.
Towards the end of the substantial and savoury dinner, skål was drunk
and songs were sung. Susanna's glass must clink with her neighbours,
right and left, straight before her and crosswise, and animated by the
general spirit, she joined in with the beautiful people's song, "The
old sea-girded Norway," and seemed to have forgotten all spirit of
opposition to Norway and Norwegians. And how heartily did not she unite
in the last skål which was proposed by the host, with beaming and
tearful eyes, "To all those who love us!" and she thought on her little
Hulda.
But now we must go on to that which made this day a remarkable one for
Susanna.
After dinner and coffee were over, the company divided, as is customary
in Norway. The ladies remained sitting on the sofa and in armed chairs
round about, and talked over the occurrences in the neighbourhood,
domestic affairs, and the now happily-concluded Christmas business, and
"yes, indeed!" "yes, indeed!" was often heard among them.
The young girls grouped themselves together in the window, and there was
heard talk of "dress" and "ornament," "heavens, how pretty!" and jest
and small-talk.
In the next room sate the gentlemen together with pipes and politics.
Susanna was near to the open door of this room, and as she felt but
little interest in the subjects that were spoken of in her
neighbourhood, she could not avoid listening to that which was said by
the gentlemen within the room, for she heard how there a coarse voice
was abusing Sweden and the Swedes in the most defamatory manner.
Susanna's blood boiled, and involuntarily she clenched her fist.
"Oh, heavens!" sighed she, "that I were but a man!"
The patriotic burgomaster's daughter burned with desire to fall upon
those who dared to despise her fatherland. She could not hear this
coolly, and almost fearing her own anger she was about to rise and take
another place, but she restrained herself, for she heard a grave, manly
voice raised in defence of that foreign calumniated country. And truly
it was refreshing for Susanna to hear Sweden defended with as much
intelligence as zeal; truly it was a joy to her to hear the assertions
of the coarser voice repelled by the other less noisy, but more powerful
voice, and at length to hear it declaim, as master of the field, the
following lines, which were addressed to his native land on the occasion
of the death of Gustavus Adolphus the Great:
At once is dimmed thy glory's ray;
Thy flowery garland fades away.
Bowed mother! But thy brightness splendid
Shall never more be ended.
The grateful world on thee her love will cast,
Who mother of Gustavus wast![4]
Yes, truly was all this a feeling of delight for Susanna; but the voice
which spoke so beautifully--the voice which defended Sweden--the voice
which called forth the feeling of delight, this voice operated more than
all the rest on Susanna, for it was that of--Harald. Susanna could not
trust her ears, she called her eyes to their assistance, and then, as
she could no longer doubt that the noble defender of her country was
Harald, she was so surprised and so joyful that in the overflowing of
her feelings she might almost have done something foolish, had not at
that very moment one of the elderly ladies of the party come to her, and
led her into a quieter corner of the room, in order to be able there
quietly to question her of all that she wished to know. This lady
belonged to that class (scattered in every country of the world) which
has a resemblance to the parasite growth, inasmuch as it grows and
flourishes by the nourishment which it seeks from the plants on which it
fixes itself. As this lady wore a brown dress, and had brown ribbons in
her cap, we find it very appropriate to call her Madame Brun. Susanna
must now give Madame Brun an account of her family, her home, all her
connexions, why she was come into Norway, how she liked living there,
and so on. In all this Susanna was tolerably open-hearted; but when the
discourse was turned upon her present situation, and her lady, she
became more reserved. On this subject, however, Madame Brun was less
disposed to question than to relate herself.
"I knew Mrs. Astrid," said she, "in our younger days, very well. She was
a very handsome lady, but always rather proud. However, I did not mind
that, and we were right good friends. People told me that I ought to pay
a visit to Semb, but--I don't know--I have never seen her since she has
been so strange. My God, dear friend, how can you live with her? She
must be so horribly gloomy and anxious!"
Susanna replied by a warm burst of praise of her lady, and said, "that
she was always sorrowful, and appeared to be unhappy, but that this only
bound her to her all the more."
"Unhappy!" began Madame Brun again. "Yes, if that were all--but alas!"
Susanna asked in astonishment what she meant.
Madame Brun answered, "I say and think nothing bad of her, and always
defend her, but in any case there is something odd about her. Could you
really believe that there are people wicked enough to speak----to
suspect----a murder?"
Susanna could neither think nor speak--she only stared at the speaker.
"Yes, yes," continued Madame Brun, fluently; "so people say! To be sure
the Colonel, who was a monster, was most guilty in the affair; but yet,
nevertheless, she must have known of it--so people assert. See you--they
had a boy with them, the son of her sister. The mother died, after
having confided her child to the care of her sister and her
brother-in-law. What happens then? One fine day the boy has vanished----
never again comes to light----nobody knows what has become of him; but
his cloak is found on a rock, by the lake, and drops of blood on the
stone under it! The boy had vanished, and his property came in well for
his relations, since the Colonel had gambled away everything which he
and his wife possessed. But our Lord, in his justice, smote the Colonel,
so that for five years he remained lame and speechless, and his wife
never since that has had one joyful day on earth."
Susanna turned pale with emotion, and as zealously as she had before
defended the honour of her native land, now defended she the innocence
of her lady. But in this she was interrupted by the friendly hostess,
who invited her to join the other young people in games and dancing. But
Susanna was so excited by that which she had heard, and longed so much
to be at home with her mistress, for whom, now that she had heard her so
cruelly maligned, she felt more affection than ever; she prayed to be
excused from taking any part in the Christmas games, and announced her
intention of driving home. She wished not, however, to take Harald from
the company, and intended, unfearingly, to drive home alone. She could
drive very well, and should easily find the way.
No, sooner, however, did Harald become aware of her intentions than he
prepared to accompany her; and it was of no avail that Susanna opposed
herself to it. Host and hostess, however, in their cordiality, opposed
warmly their guests leaving them so early, and threatened them with
"Aasgaardsreija," who was accustomed to rage in Christmas time, and
would meet them by the way if they persisted in their unwise resolve.
Notwithstanding this they did so, and were accompanied by their hosts to
the sledge. Susanna thanked them from her moved heart for all their
kindness, promised the amiable Thea that they would see one another
often, and kissed tenderly the little Mina, who hung upon her neck.
Scarcely was Susanna seated in the sledge, and was amid mountains and
woods, than she gave vent to her heart, and related to Harald the story
which she had just heard. And her abhorrence had not been less than was
now Harald's anger at such a shameful calumniation, and at the person
who had exhibited such an evidence of her own dark soul. Yes, he fell
into such a rage with old Madame Brun, and made such threatening
demonstrations against her well-being, and the horse made such violent
springs and plunges, that Susanna endeavoured to lead the conversation
to other subjects. She therefore asked Harald what was meant by
Aasgaardsreija, and why they had threatened her with it.
Harald on this returned to his customary temper, and assured her that
this was by no means to be jested with. "The Aasgaardsreija," said he,
"are the spirits which are not good enough to deserve heaven, and yet
not bad enough to be sent to hell; they consist of tipplers, polite
deceivers--in one word, of all those who from one cause or another have
given themselves to evil. For punishment, therefore, must they ride
about till the end of the world. At the head of the troop rides
Guro-Rysse, or Reisa-Rova, who is to be known by her long train. After
her follows a long numerous band of both sexes. The horses are coal
black, and their eyes flash in the darkness like fire. They are guided
by bits of red-hot iron, ride over land and water, and the halloo of the
riders, the snorting of the horses, the rattling of the iron bits,
occasion a tumult which is heard from far. Whenever they throw a saddle
over a house, there must some one die, and wherever they perceive that
there will be bloodshed or murder, they enter, and seating themselves on
the posts by the door, make a noise and laugh in their sleeve. When one
hears the Aasgaardsreija coming, one must throw oneself on the ground
and pretend that one sleeps. If one does this not, one is carried away
by the troop, and struck down in a fainting-fit in a place far distant
from where one was. People often, after this, are low-spirited and
melancholy all their days. But the virtuous, who throw themselves down
immediately on the approach of the troop, suffer nothing, excepting that
every one of the airy company spits upon him in passing; when the troop
has passed by, then one spits again, and the affair has then no further
consequence."
Harald added that this troop was commonly out at Christmas, and nothing
was more possible than that they themselves might meet it on this very
evening, and in that case Susanna had nothing more to do than to
dismount from the sledge, throw herself with her nose on the ground, and
bury her face in the snow, till the wild herd were gone over.[5]
Susanna declared, it is true, that she had not any faith in the story;
but Harald said so gravely that one of these days she would see that the
affair was true, and Susanna was naturally so inclined to believe in the
marvellous, that she very often, especially in narrow passes of the
valleys, directed her glance to the heights, half fearing, half wishing,
that the black horses, with the fiery eyes and the red-hot bridlebits,
might make their appearance. But she only saw bright stars look down
upon her, now and then dimmed by the Northern lights, which waved their
shining, fleeting veils over the vault of heaven.
Arrived at Semb, she saw the customary faint light in the windows of her
lady. Susanna's heart was affected, and with a deep sigh she said, "Ah,
how wicked this world is! To lay yet stones upon the burden, and to make
misfortune into crime. What, what can we do to shield her from the
attacks of malice?"
"Madame Brun shall at least not spread her lies further," said Harald.
"I will drive to her to-morrow morning, compel her to swallow her own
words, and terrify her from ever letting them again pass her lips."
"Yes, that is good!" exclaimed Susanna, delighted.
"If an accident happens to a child," continued Harald, excitedly, "then
directly to charge those belonging to it with a wilful murder! Can one
imagine anything more shameful or more absurd. No, such snakes, at
least, shall not hiss about the unhappy lady. And to crush them shall be
my business!"
And with this Harald pressed Susanna's hand at parting, and left her.
"And my business," thought Susanna, with tearful eyes, "shall be to love
her and to serve her faithfully. Perhaps, when order and comfort are
diffused more and more around her, when many pleasures daily surround
her, perhaps she may again feel an inclination for life."
FOOTNOTES:
[3] A kind of codfish, which has been soaked in lye for several weeks,
and is a general Christmas dish in Norway and Sweden.
[4] The Battle of Lüzen. By Rein.
[5] The rushing noise and tumult in the air which attends violent
storms, especially in mountain countries, has probably given occasion to
the legend of the Aasgaardsreija. There is no doubt of its having its
origin in heathen times, but it may also have reference to the
procession towards Aasgaard of the heroes who have fallen in battle, or
to the aërial journey of the Nornor and Valkyrior. The legend has taken
its present form under Christianity, in which the old divinities have
been transformed in popular belief into evil powers and servants of the
devil.--FAYE.
QUIET WEEKS.
When clouds hang heavy on the face of earth,
And woods stand leafless in their mourning plight,--
Then gentle sympathy has twofold might,
And kindness on the social winter's hearth
Within our hearts the glow of spring's delight.
VELHAVEN.
Hast thou heard the fall of water-drops in deep caves, where heavily,
and perpetually, and gnawingly, they eat into the ground on which they
fall? Hast thou heard the murmuring of the brook that flows on
sportively between green banks, whilst nodding flowers and beaming
lights of heaven mirror themselves in its waters? There is a secret
twittering and whispering of joy in it. There hast thou pictures of two
kinds of still life, which are different the one from the other as hell
and heaven. Both of them are lived on earth; both of them, at Semb in
Heimdal, were lived through the following months: the first by Mrs.
Astrid, the second by Harald and Susanna, only that sometimes the
wearing drops were blown aside by a favourable breeze, and that
sometimes mud of various kinds made turbid the waters of the dancing
brook.
January passed away with his growing sunshine and his increasing winter
pomp. Waterfalls planted their edges with flowers, palms, grapes--yes,
whole fruit-trees of--ice. The bulfinches, with their red breasts, shone
like hopping flames upon the white snow. The winter bloomed in sparkling
crystals, which were strewn over wood and earth, in the song of the
throstle, in the glittering whiteness of the snow-fields. Timber was
felled in the woods, and songs from Tegnér's Frithof resounded thereto.
People drove in sledges through the valleys, and on snow-skates over the
mountains. There was fresh life everywhere.
The contest at Semb, about Sweden and Norway, had ceased ever since
Christmas. It is true that Harald attempted various attacks upon Swedish
iron, the Swedish woods, and so on, but Susanna seemed not rightly to
believe in their seriousness, and would not on that account take up the
strife; and his last attempt on the Swedish wind fell so feebly, that
Harald determined to let the subject rest, and to look about for some
other matter of contention wherewith to keep himself warm during the
winter.
February and March came on. This is the severest time of a northern
winter. In January it is young, but it becomes now old, and grey and
heavy, especially in cottages, where there is no great provision for the
family. The autumn provision, as well in the house as in the yard, is
nearly consumed. It is hard for hungry children to trail home wood from
the forests, which is to boil for them in their kettle only thin
water-gruel, and not always that.
April came. It is called the spring month, and the larks sing in the
woods. But in the deep valley often prevails then the greatest anxiety
and want. Often then scatters the needy peasant ashes and sand upon the
snow which covers his acres, that it may melt all the sooner, and thus
he may be able to plough up his land between the snow walls which
surround it. Susanna during this month became well known in the cottages
of the valley, and her warm heart found rich material for sympathy and
help.