FERDINAND FREILIGRATH

(1810-1876)

[Illustration: FERDINAND FREILIGRATH]

In times of political degradation the poets of Germany, turning from

their own surroundings, have sought poetical material either in the

glories of a dim past or in the exotic splendors of remote lands.

Goethe, disquieted by the French Revolution, took up Chinese and

Persian studies; the romantic poets revivified the picturesqueness of

the Middle Ages; and during the second quarter of this century the

Orient began to exercise a potent charm. Platen wrote his beautiful

'Gaselen,' Rueckert sang in Persian measure and translated the

Indian 'Sakuntala,' and Bodenstedt fashioned the dainty songs of

"Mirza-Schaffy." Freiligrath too, a child of his time, entered upon

his literary career with poems which took their themes from distant

climes. Among his earliest verses after 'Moosthee' (Iceland-Moss Tea),

written at the age of sixteen, were 'Africa,' 'Der Scheik am Sinai'

(The Sheik on Sinai), and 'Der Loewenritt' (The Lion's Ride). Even in

these early poems, we find all that brilliancy of Oriental imagery to

which he tells us he had been inspired by much poring over an

illustrated Bible in his childhood.

But Freiligrath, like Uhland and Herwegh, was a man of action and a

patriot. The revolution of 1848 had brought fresh breezes into the

stagnation of political life; and though they soon were stilled again,

the men who had breathed that air ceased to be the dreamers of dreams

that the romantic poets had been. They were conscious of a mission,

and became the robust heralds of a larger and a freer time.

Freiligrath was a schoolmaster's son; he was born at Detmold on June

17th, 1810, and much against his private inclinations, he was sent in

his sixteenth year to an uncle in Soest to prepare himself for a

mercantile career. The death of his father threw him upon his own

resources, and he took a position in an Amsterdam bank. Here the

inspiration of the sea widened the range of his poetic fancy. To

Chamisso is due the credit of introducing the poet to the general

public through the pages of the Musenalmanach. This was in 1835. In

1838 appeared the first volume of his poems, and it won instant and

unusual favor; Gutzkow called him the German Hugo. With this

encouragement Freiligrath definitely abandoned mercantile life. In

1841 he married. At the suggestion of Alexander von Humboldt, the King

of Prussia granted him a royal pension; and as no conditions were

attached, it was accepted. This was a bitter disappointment to the

ardent revolutionary poets, who had counted Freiligrath as one of

themselves; but the turbulent times which preceded the revolution soon

forced him into an open declaration of principles, and although he had

said in one of his poems that the poet was above all party, in 1844,

influenced by Hoffmann von Fallersleben, he resigned his pension,

announced his position, and in May published a volume of revolutionary

poems entitled 'Mein Glaubensbekenntniss' (My Confession of Faith).

This book created the wildest enthusiasm, and placed its author at

once in the front rank of the people's partisans. He fled to Brussels,

and in 1846 published under the title of 'Ca Ira' six new songs, which

were a trumpet-call to revolution. The poet deemed it prudent to

retire to London, and he was about to accept an invitation from

Longfellow to cross the ocean when the revolution broke out, and he

returned to Duesseldorf to put himself at the head of the democratic

party on the Rhine. But he was a poet and not a leader, and he

indiscreetly exposed himself to arrest by an inflammatory poem, 'Die

Todten an die Lebenden' (The Dead to the Living). The jury however

acquitted him, and he at once assumed the management of the New

Rhenish Gazette at Cologne.

It is a curious fact that during this agitated time Freiligrath wrote

some of his tenderest poetry. In the collection which appeared in 1849

with the title 'Zwischen den Garben' (Between the Sheaves), was

included that exquisite hymn to love: 'Oh, Love So Long as Love Thou

Canst,' perhaps the most perfect of all his lyrical productions, and

certainly evidence that the poet could touch the strings to deep

emotions. In the following year both volumes of his 'New Political and

Social Poems' were ready. Once more he prudently retired to London;

his fears were confirmed by the immediate confiscation of these new

volumes, and by the publication of a letter of apprehension. By way of

reprisal he wrote his poem 'The Revolution,' which was published in

London.

In 1867 the Swiss bank with which Freiligrath was connected closed its

London branch, and the poet again faced an uncertain future. His

friends on the Rhine, hearing of his difficulties, raised a generous

subscription, and taking advantage of a general amnesty, he returned

to the fatherland and became associated with the Stuttgart Illustrated

Magazine. In 1870 appeared a complete collection of his poems; in

1876, 'New Poems'; and in the latter year, on March 18th, he died at

Cannstatt in Wuertemburg.

The question which Freiligrath asks the emigrants in his early poem of

that name,--'O say, why seek ye other lands?'--was destined to find

frequent and bitter answer in his own checkered career; but he never

swerved from the liberal principles which he had publicly announced.

His political poems were among the most powerful influences of his

time, and they have a permanent value as the expression of the spirit

of freedom. His translations are marvels of fidelity and beauty. His

'Hiawatha' and 'The Ancient Mariner,' together with his versions of

Victor Hugo, are perhaps the best examples of his surpassing skill.

His own works have been for the most part excellently translated into

English. His daughter published during her father's lifetime a volume

of his poems, in which were collected all the best English

translations then available. The exotic subjects of his early poems

make them seem the most original, as for example 'Der Mohrenfuerst'

(The Moorish Prince) and 'Der Blumen Rache' (The Revenge of the

Flowers); the unusual rhymes hold the attention, and the sonorous

melody of the verse delights the ear: but it is in a few of his superb

love lyrics that he touches the highest point of his genius, although

his fame continues to rest upon his impassioned songs of freedom and

his name to be associated with the rich imagery of the Orient.

Library of the World's Best Literature, Ancient and Modern — Volume 15 · 第 126 / 261 题