The Hero of Esthonia and Other Studies in the Romantic Literature of That Country Part 28

As soon as all these people were a.s.sembled, the host cried out, "Open, sack!" Then the knapsack indeed opened, but the men with the cudgels leaped out among the people, and belaboured them so l.u.s.tily that they all fled in different directions, and some barely escaped with their lives. They all caught it hot, both the host and his guests. When at length the host cried out in his distress, "Sack, shut!" the men sprang back, and the sack closed. But now the bolder guests themselves gave the host a good beating before they left. After this, things went as badly with the rich brother as with the poor one before. He kept the handsome knapsack, but the men with the cudgels were in it, and if he only thought of opening it, they laid them on his back. But the poor brother had enough for himself and his wife from the first knapsack as long as he lived.

Versions of this story are current throughout Europe; but in general, the magical properties (of which there are usually two or three) are stolen or exchanged by a designing innkeeper, or other person, without the knowledge of the owner.

The next story, that of the Devil being pounded in a sack, is current in various forms throughout Northern Europe.

THE SOLDIER AND THE DEVIL.

(JANNSEN.)

The Devil encountered a soldier outside the town, and said to him, "Good friend, please help me to get through the town. I can't go alone, though I should be very glad to do so, for the two-eyed dogs[33] would surround me in every street. They attack me as soon as I enter the town."

"I'd be glad to help you," said the soldier, "but one can't do any business without money."

"What do you want then?" said the Devil.

"Not a great deal," returned the soldier, "for you've plenty of money.

If you'll fill my gauntlet, I shall be quite satisfied."

"I've as much as that in my pocket," said the Devil, and filled the glove to the brim.

The soldier reflected, and said, "I really don't know where to put you.

Stop! just creep into my knapsack; you'll be safer there than anywhere."

"That'll do! But your knapsack has three straps. Don't buckle the third, or it might be bad for me."[34]

"All right! Squeeze in."

So the Devil crept into the knapsack.

But the soldier was one of those people who don't keep their word as they ought. As soon as the devil was in the knapsack, he buckled all three straps tight, saying, "A soldier mustn't go through the town with loose straps. Do you think that the corporal would excuse me on your account if he saw me so untidy?"

But the soldier had a friend on the other side of the town who was a smith. He marched straight off to him with the Devil in his knapsack, and said, "Old friend, please beat my knapsack soft on your anvil. The corporal always scolds me because he says that my knapsack is as hard and angular as a dry bast shoe."

"Pitch it on the anvil," said the smith.

And he hammered away at the knapsack till the wool flew from the hide.

"Won't that do?" asked he after a while.

"No," said the soldier, "harder still."

And again the blows hailed on the knapsack.

"That's enough," said the soldier at last. "I'll come to you again, if it's necessary."

Then he took the knapsack on his shoulder, and went back to the town, where he pitched the Devil out of the knapsack in the middle of the street.

The Devil was crushed as flat as a mushroom. He could hardly stand on his legs. It had never gone so ill with him before; but the soldier had money enough and to spare, and there was some left over for his heirs.

When he died and arrived in the other world, he went to h.e.l.l and knocked at the door.

The Devil peeped through the door to see who it was, and yelled out, "No, no, you scamp, you're not wanted here; you may go wherever you like, but you won't get in here."

So the soldier went to the Old G.o.d, and told him how it had fared with him. He replied, "Stay here now; there's plenty of room for soldiers."

Since that time the Devil has admitted no more soldiers into h.e.l.l.

[Footnote 33: Odd stories are told in many countries about the relations between various animals and the Devil. In Esthonia the wolf and the dog are peculiarly hostile to the Devil. In the East it is the a.s.s, concerning which Lane quotes the following amusing explanation in a note to the story of the "Peac.o.c.k and Peahen," &c. (_Thousand and One Nights_, notes to Chap. ix. of Lane's translation):--"The last animal that entered with Noah into the ark was the a.s.s, and Iblees (whom G.o.d curse!) clung to his tail. The a.s.s had just entered the ark, and began to be agitated, and could not enter further into the ark, whereupon Noah said to him, 'Enter, woe to thee!' But the a.s.s was still agitated, and was unable to advance. So Noah said, 'Enter, though the Devil be with thee!' And the a.s.s entered, and Iblees (whom G.o.d curse!) entered with him. And Noah said, 'O enemy of G.o.d, who introduced thee into the ark?'

He answered, 'Thou; thou saidst unto the a.s.s, "Enter, though the Devil be with thee."' So it is said that this is the reason why the a.s.s when he seeth the Devil brayeth."]

[Footnote 34: Jannsen remarks that the _third_ strap would form a cross, and that the _three_ straps might be an allusion to the Trinity.]

SECTION V

_STORIES OF THE G.o.dS, AND SPIRITS OF THE ELEMENTS_

Vanemuine appears in the _Kalevala_, under his Finnish name of Vainamoinen, as a culture-hero, though in the first recension of the poem, as well as in most of the creation-myths of the Finns, the creation is ascribed to him, and not to his mother, Ilmatar. He is, however, always a great musician, and in Esthonian tales usually appears rather in the character of a G.o.d than of a patriarch.

We read much of Vainamoinen's playing and singing in the _Kalevala_, especially in Runo 46, where he charms all nature by his playing and singing, like Orpheus. In Runo 50 he is described as leaving Finland on account of his authority departing at the coming of Christ; though it is said by an old writer that the favourite deities of the Finns in his time were Vainamoinen and the Virgin Mary.

THE SONG-G.o.d'S DEPARTURE.

(JANNSEN.)

All living beings gathered round Vanemuine on the Hill of Taara, and each received his language, according to what he could comprehend and retain of the song of the G.o.d. The sacred stream Ema had chosen for her language the rustling of his garments, but the trees of the forest chose the rus.h.i.+ng of his robes as he descended to the earth. Therefore do we feel the presence of Vanemuine most nearly in the woods and on the banks of the murmuring brooks, and then are we filled with the spirit of his lays. The loudest tones are heard in the wind. Some creatures preferred the deep tones of the G.o.d's harp, and others the melody of the strings.

The singing birds, especially the nightingale and the lark, deemed the holy songs and melodies of the G.o.d to be the most beautiful. But it fared very badly with the fishes. They stretched their heads out of the water to the eyes, but kept their ears under. So they saw well how Vanemuine moved his lips, and they imitated him, but they remained dumb.

Only man could learn all notes and understand everything; therefore his song moves the soul most deeply, and lifts it towards the throne of G.o.d.

Vanemuine sang of the grandeur of heaven and the beauty of earth, of the banks of the Ema and her beauty, and of the joy and sorrow of the children of men. And his song was so moving that he himself began to weep bitterly, and the tears sank through his sixfold robe and his sevenfold vest. Then he rose again on the wings of the wind, and went to the abode of G.o.d to sing and play.

Long did his divine song linger in the mouths of the sons and daughters of Esthonia. When they wandered in the leafy shades of the holy forest, they comprehended the gentle rustling of the trees, and the rippling of the brooks filled them with joyous thoughts. The song of the nightingale melted their hearts, and the whistling of the larks lifted their minds to the abodes of G.o.d. Then it seemed to them as if Vanemuine himself wandered through the creation with his harp. And thus he did; and when the bards of the whole country a.s.sembled together to sing, Vanemuine was always among them, though they did not know him, and he ever kindled afresh in their bosoms the true fire of song.

It came to pa.s.s, at one of these festivals, that a strange old maid took her place among the singers. Her face was full of wrinkles, her chin trembled, and one foot was supported by crutches. The old woman began her song in a grating voice. She sang of her beautiful youth, the happy days in the house of her parents, and the pitiful ways of the present, when all joy had vanished. Then she sang of her lovers, who came in hosts to woo her, and how she had repulsed them all. She concluded her song with the words--