Glen Collection of printed music > Printed music > British minstrel, and musical and literary miscellany

294
THE BRITISH MINSTREL; AND
THE YOUNG WIFE.
A SCENE FROM A SWEDISH NOVEL.
RosenviJc, 1st June, 18 — . Here I am now, my
dear Maria, under my own roof, at my own writing-
table, and sitting by my own Bear. And who is
Bear? you ask: who should it be but my own hus-
band, whom I call Bear because the name suits him
so well.
Here then I am, sitting by the window ; the sun
is setting ; two swans swim in the lake and make
furrows in its clear mirror ; three cows, my cows,
stand on the green shore, quite sleek and reflective,
thinking certainly upon nothing. How handsome
they are ! Now comes the maid with her milk-pail ;
how rich and good is country milk! but what, in
fact, is not good in the country ? air and rain, food
and feeling, heaven and earth, all is fresh and ani-
mated.
But now I must conduct you into my dwelling —
no, I will begin yet further off. There, on that hill,
in Smaland, several miles oft', whence I iirst looked
into the valley where Rosenvik lies, behold a dust-
covered carriage, within which sits the Bear and
his little wife. That little wife looks forth with
curiosity, for before her lies a valley beautiful in the
light of evening. Green woods stretch out below,
and surround crystal lakes; corn-fields in silken
waves encircle grey mountains, and white buildings
gleam out with friendly aspects among the trees.
Here and there, from the wood-covered heights,
pillars of smoke ascend to the clear evening heaven;
they might have been mistaken for volcanoes, but
tliey were only peaceful svedjen.* Truly it was
beautiful, and I was charmed ; I bent myself for-
ward, and was thinking on a certain happy natural
family in Paradise, one Adam and Eve, when sud-
denly the Bear laid his great paws upon me, and
held me so tight that I was nearly giving up the
ghost, while he kissed me and besought me to find
pleasure in what was here. I was the least in the
world angry; but, as I knew the heart impulse of
this embrace, I made myself tolerably contented.
Here, then, in this valley, lay my stationary
home, here lived my new family, here lay Rosenvik,
here should I and my husband live together. We de-
scended the hill and the carriage rolled rapidly along
the level road, while as we advanced he told whose
property was this and whose was that, whether near
or remote. All was to me like a dream, out of
which I was suddenly awoke by his saying with a
peculiar accent, " Here lives Ma chere mere," and
at tile same moment the carriage drove into a court-
yard, and drew up at the door of a large handsome
stone house.
" What, must we alight here?" I asked.
" Yes, my love," was his reply.
This was to me by no means an agreeable sur-
prise; I would much rather have gone on to my own
house; much rather have made some preparation
for this first meeting with my husband's step-mother,
of whom 1 stood in great awe from the anecdotes I
had heard of her, and the respect her step-son had
for her. This visit seemed to me quite mal-a-
propos, but my husband had his own ideas, and as
I glanced at him I saw that it was no time for op-
position.
It was Sunday, and as the carriage diew up I
heard the sound of a violin.
" Aha," said Lars Anders, for such is my husband's
* Svedjen, the burning of turf, &c., in the fields,
used for dressing the land.
christian name, "so much the better !" leaped heavi-
ly from the carriage, and helped me out also. There
was no time to think about boxes or packages ; he
took my hand and led me up the steps, along the
entrance-hall, and drew me towards the door, whence
proceeded the sounds of music and dancing.
" Only see," thought I, "how is it possible for me
to dance in this costume."
O if I could only have gone in somewhere, just to
wipe the dust from my face and my bonnet, where
at the very least I could just have seen myself in a
looking-glass! "Now," exclaimed
I, in a kind of lively despair, " If you take me to a
ball, you Bear, I'll make you dance with me."
" VVith a world of pleasure !" cried he, and in the
same moment we two stood in the hall, when my
terror was considerably abated by finding that the
great room contained merely a number of cleanly
dressed servants, men and women, who leapt about
lustily with one another, and who were so occupied
witli their dancing as scarcely to perceive us. Lars
Anders led me to the upper end of the room, where
I saw sitting upon a high seat, a very tall and
strong-built gentlewoman, who was playing with
remarkable fervour upon a violin, and beating time
to her music with great power. Upon her head
was a tall and extraordinai7 cap, which I may as
well call a helmet, because this idea came into my
head at the first glance ; and after all I can find no
better name for it. This was the Generalin (wife
of the General) Mansfield, step-mother of my
husband, Ma chere mere of whom I had heard so
much.
She turned instantly her large dark brown eyes
upon us, ceased playing, laid down her violin, and
arose with a proud bearing, but with, at the same
time, a happy and open countenance. I trembled
a little, made a deep curtsey, and kissed her hand;
in return she kissed my forehead, and for a moment
looked on me so keenly as compelled me to cast
down my eyes, whereupon she kissed me most cor-
dially on mouth and forehead, and embraced me
as warmly as her step-son. And now came his
turn ; he kissed her hand most reverentially, but she
presented her cheek ; they regarded each other with
the most friendly expression of countenance, she
saying in a loud manly voice the moment afterwards :
" if ou are welcome, my dear friends ; it is very
handsome of you to come here to me before you have
been to your own house; I thank you for it. I
might, it is true, have received you better, if I could
have made preparations : but at all events, this I
know, that 'a welcome is the best dish.' I hope,
my friends, that you will remain over the evening
with me.'
My husband excused us, saying that we wished
to reach home soon ; that I was fatigued with the
journey; but that we could not pass Carlsfors with-
out paying our respects to Ma chere mere.
" Nay, good, good!" said she, apparently satisfied;
" we will soon have more talk within, but first I
must speak a few words with these people here.
Listen, good friends!" and Ma chere mere struck the
back of the violin with the bow till a general silence
prevailed through the hall. "My children," con-
tinued she in a solemn tone, " I have something to
say to you, — the liangman! wilt thou not be quiet
there below, — I have to tell you that my beloved
son Lars Anders Werner takes home his wife, this
Franziska Buren whom you see standing by his
side. Marriages are determined in heaven, my
children, and we will now pray heaven to bless its