Traces of the worship of these deities by our pagan ancestors still remain in the names given to four days of the week. Tuesday was consecrated to Tyr, a son of Odin; Wednesday, Odin's or Wooden's day, to Odin; Thursday, or Thor's day, to Thor; and Friday, or Freya's day, was sacred to the goddess Freya.
3. THE LANGUAGE.—The Scandinavian or Norse languages include the Icelandic, Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian dialects.
The Icelandic or Old Norse, which was the common language of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, in the ninth century, was carried into Iceland, where, to the present time, it has wonderfully retained its early characteristics. The written alphabet was called Runic, and the letters, Runes, of which the most ancient specimens are the inscriptions on Rune stones, rings, and wooden tablets.
The Danish and Swedish, may be called the New Norse languages; they began to assume a character distinct from the Old Norse about the beginning of the twelfth century. The Danish language is not confined to Denmark, but is used in the literature, and by the cultivated society of Norway.
The Swedish is the most musical of the Scandinavian dialects, its pronunciation being remarkably soft and agreeable. Its character is more purely Norse than the Danish, which has been greatly affected by its contact with the German.
The Norwegian exists only in the form of dialects spoken by the peasantry. It is distinguished from the other two by a rich vocabulary of words peculiar to itself, and by its own pronunciation and peculiar construction; only literary cultivation is wanted to make it an independent language like the others.
4. ICELANDIC OR OLD NORSE LITERATURE.—In 868 one of the Norwegian vikings or sea rovers, being driven on the coast of Iceland, first made known the existence of the island. Harold, the fair-haired, having soon after subdued or slain the petty kings of Norway, and introduced the feudal system, many of the inhabitants, disdaining to sacrifice their independence, set forth to colonize this dreary and inhospitable region, whose wild and desolate aspect seemed to attract their imaginations. Huge mountains of ice here rose against the northern sky, from which the smoke of volcanoes rolled balefully up; and the large tracts of lava, which had descended from them to the sea, were cleft into fearful abysses, where no bottom could be found. Here were strange, desolate valleys, with beds of pure sulphur, torn and overhanging precipices, gigantic caverns, and fountains of boiling water, which, mingled with flashing fires, soared up into the air, amid the undergroans of earthquakes, and howlings and hissings as of demons in torture. Subterranean fires, in terrific contest with the wintry ocean, seemed to have made sport of rocks, mountains, and rivers, tossing them into the most fantastic and appalling shapes. Yet such was the fondness of the Scandinavian imagination for the wild and desolate, and such their hatred of oppression, that they soon peopled this chaotic island to an extent it has never since reached. In spite of the rigor of the climate, where corn refused to ripen, and where the labors of fishing and agriculture could only be pursued for four months of the year, the people became attached to this wild country. They established a republic which lasted four hundred years, and for ages it was destined to be the sanctuary and preserver of the grand old literature of the North. The people took with them their Scalds and their traditions, and for a century after the peopling of the island, they retained their Pagan belief. Ages rolled away; the religion of Odin had perished from the mainland, and the very hymns and poems in which its doctrines were recorded had perished with it, when, in the middle of the seventeenth century, the Rhythmical Edda of Samund was discovered, followed by the Prose Edda of Snorre Sturleson. These discoveries roused the zeal of the Scandinavian literati, and led to further investigations, which resulted in the discovery of a vast number of chronicles and sagas, and much has since been done by the learned men of Iceland and Denmark to bring to light the remote annals of northern Europe.
These remains fall into the three divisions of Eddaic, Scaldic, and Saga literature. Samund the Wise (1056-1131), a Christian priest of Iceland, was the first to collect and commit to writing the oral traditions of the mythology and poetry of the Scandinavians. His collection has been termed the "Edda," a word by some supposed to signify grandmother, and by others derived, with more probability, from the obsolete word oeda, to teach. The elder or poetic Edda consists of thirty-eight poems, and is divided into two parts. The first, or mythological cycle, contains everything relating to the Scandinavian ideas of the creation of the world, the origin of man, the morals taught by the priests, and stories of the gods; the second, or heroic cycle, contains the original materials of the "Nibelungen Lied" of Germany. The poems consist of strophes of six or eight lines each, with little of the alliteration by which the Scalds were afterwards distinguished. One of the oldest and most interesting is the "Voluspa," or Song of the Prophetess, a kind of sibylline lay, which contains an account of the creation, the origin of man and of evil, and concludes with a prediction of the destruction and renovation of the universe, and a description of the future abodes of happiness and misery. "Vafthrudnir's Song" is in the form of a dialogue between Odin, disguised as a mortal, and the giant Vafthrudnir, in which the same subjects are discussed. "Grimner's Song" contains a description of twelve habitations of the celestial deities, considered as symbolical of the signs of the zodiac. "Rig's Song" explains, allegorically, the origin of the three castes: the thrall, the churl, and the noble, which, at a very early period, appear to have formed the framework of Scandinavian society. "The Havamal," or the High Song of Odin, is the complete code of Scandinavian ethics. The maxims here brought together more resemble the Proverbs of Solomon than anything in human literature, but without the high religious views of the Scripture maxims. It shows a worldly wisdom, experience, and sagacity, to which modern life can add nothing. In the Havamal is included the Rune Song.
Runes, the primitive rudely-shaped letters of the Gothic race, appear never to have been used to record their literature, which was committed to the Scalds and Sagamen, but they were reserved for inscriptions on rocks or memorial stones, or they were cut in staves of wood, as a rude calendar to assist the memory. Odin was the great master of runes, but all the gods, many of the giants, kings, queens, prophetesses, and poets possessed the secret of their power. In the ballads of the Middle Ages, long after the introduction of Christianity, we find everywhere the boast of Runic knowledge and of its power. Queens and princesses cast the runic spell over their enemies; ladies, by the use of runes, inspire warriors with love; and weird women by their means perform witchcraft and sorcery. Some of their rune songs taught the art of healing; others had power to stop flying spears in battle, and to excite or extinguish hatred and love. There were runes of victory inscribed on swords; storm runes, which gave power over sails, inscribed on rudders of ships, drink runes, which gave power over others, inscribed on drinking horns; and herb runes, cut in the bark of trees which cured sickness and wounds. These awful characters, which struck terror into the hearts of our heathen ancestors, and which appalled and subdued alike kings, warriors, and peasants, were simple letters of the alphabet; but they prove to what a stupenduous extent knowledge was power in the dark ages of the earth. The poet who sings the Rune Song in the Havamal does it with every combination of mystery, calculated to inspire awe and wonder in the hearer.
The two poems, "Odin's Raven Song" and the "Song of the Way-Tamer," are among the most deeply poetical hymns of the Edda. They relate to the same great event—the death of Balder—and are full of mystery and fear. A strange trouble has fallen upon the gods, the oracles are silent, and a dark, woeful foreboding seizes on all things living. Odin mounts his steed, Sleipner, and descends to hell to consult the Vala there in her tomb, and to extort from her, by runic incantations, the fate of his son. This "Descent of Odin" is familiar to the English reader through Gray's Ode. In all mythologies we have glimpses continually of the mere humanity of the gods, we witness their limited powers and their consciousness of a coming doom. In this respect every mythology is kept in infinite subordination to the true faith, in which all is sublime, infinite, and worthy of the Deity—in which God is represented as pure spirit, whom the heaven of heavens cannot contain; and all assumption of divinity by false gods is treated as a base superstition.
The remaining songs of the first part of the Edda relate chiefly to the exploits, wanderings, and love adventures of the gods. The "Sun Song," with which it concludes, is believed to be the production of Samund, the collector of the Edda, In this he retains some of the machinery of the old creed, but introduces the Christian Deity and doctrines.
The second part of the elder Edda contains the heroic cycle of Icelandic poems, the first part of which is the Song of Voland. the renowned northern smith. The story of Voland, or Wayland, the Vulcan of the North, is of unknown antiquity; and his fame, which spread throughout Europe, still lives in the traditions of all northern nations. The poems concerning Sigurd and the Niflunga form a grand epic of the simplest construction. The versification consists of strophes of six or eight lines, without rhyme or alliteration. The sad and absorbing story here narrated was wonderfully popular throughout the ancient Scandinavian and Teutonic world, and it is impossible to say for how many centuries these great tragic ballads had agitated the hearts of the warlike races of the north. It is clear that Sigurd and Byrnhilda, with all their beauty, noble endowment, and sorrowful history, were real personages, who had taken powerful hold on the popular affections in the most ancient times, and had come down from age to age, receiving fresh incarnations and embellishments from the popular Scalds. There is a great and powerful nature living through these poems. They are pictures of men and women of godlike beauty and endowments, and full of the vigor of simple but impetuous natures. Though fragmentary, they stand in all the essentials of poetry far beyond the German Lied, and, in the tragic force of passion which they portray, they are superior to any remains of ancient poetry except that of Greece. Their greatness lies less in their language than their spirit, which is sublime and colossal. Passion, tenderness, and sorrow are here depicted with the most vivid power; and the noblest sentiments and the most heroic actions are crossed by the foulest crimes and the most terrific tragedies. They contain materials for a score of dramas of the most absorbing character.
The Prose or Younger Edda was the work of Snorre Sturleson (1178-1241), who was born of a distinguished Icelandic family, and, after leading a turbulent and ambitious life, and being twice supreme magistrate of the republic, was at last assassinated. The younger Edda repeats in prose the sublime poetry of the elder Edda, mixed with many extravagances and absurdities; and in point of literary and philosophical value it bears no comparison with it. It marks the transition from the art of the Scalds to the prose relation of the Sagaman. This work concludes with a treatise on the poetic phraseology of the Scalds, and a system of versification by Snorre.
The Bard, or Scald (literally smoothers of language, from scaldre, to polish), formed an important feature of the courts of the princes and more powerful nobles. They often acted, at the same time, as bard, councilor, and warrior. Until the twelfth century, when the monks and the art of writing put an end to the Scaldic art, this race of poets continued to issue from Iceland, and to travel from country to country, welcomed as the honored guests of kings, and receiving in return for their songs, rings and jewels of great value, but never money. There is preserved a list of two hundred and thirty scalds, who had distinguished themselves from the time of Ragnor Lodbrok to that of Vladimir II., or from the latter end of the eighth, to the beginning of the thirteenth century. Ragnor Lodbrok was a Danish king, who, in one of his predatory excursions, was taken prisoner in England and thrown into a dungeon, to be stung to death by serpents. His celebrated death song is said to have been composed during his torments. The best of the scaldic lays, however, are greatly inferior to the Eddaic poems. Alliteration is the chief characteristic of the versification.
The word Saga means literally a tale or narrative, and is used in Iceland to denote every species of tradition, whether fabulous or true. In amount, the Saga literature of ancient Scandinavia is surprisingly extensive, consisting of more than two hundred volumes. The Sagas are, for the most part, unconnected biographies or narratives of greater or less length, principally describing events which took place from the ninth to the thirteenth century. They are historical, mythic, heroic, and romantic.
The first annalist of Iceland of whom we have any remains was Ari the Wise (b. 1067), the contemporary of Samund, and his annals, for the most part, have been lost. Snorre Sturleson, already spoken of as the collector of the Prose Edda, was the author of a great original work, the "Heimskringla," or Home-Circle, so called from the first word of the manuscript, a most admirable history of a great portion of northern Europe from the period of the Christian Era to 1177, including every species of Saga composition. It traces Odin and his followers from the East, from Asaland and Asgard, its chief city, to their settlement in Scandinavia. It narrates the contests of the kings, the establishment of the kingdoms of Norway, Sweden, and Denmark, the Viking expeditions, the discovery and settlement of Iceland and Greenland, the discovery of America, and the conquests of England and Normandy. The stories are told with a life and freshness that belong only to true genius, and a picture is given of human life in all its reality, genuine, vivid, and true. Some of the Sagas of the "Heimskringla" are grand romances, full of brilliant adventures, while at the same time they lie so completely within the range of history that they may be regarded as authentic. That of Harold Haardrada narrates his expedition to the East, his brilliant exploits in Constantinople, Syria, and Sicily, his scaldic accomplishments, and his battles in England against Harold, the son of Earl Godwin, where he fell only a few days before Godwin's son himself fell at the battle of Hastings. This Saga is a splendid epic in prose, and is particularly interesting to the English race. The first part of the "Heimskringla" is necessarily derived from tradition; as it advances fable and fact all curiously intermingle, and it terminates in authentic history.
Among the most celebrated Sagas of the remaining divisions are the "Sagas of Erik the Wanderer," who went in search of the Island of Immortality; "Frithiof's Saga," made the subject of Tegnér's great poem; the Saga of Ragnor Lodbrok, of Dietrich of Bern, and the Volsunga Saga, relating to the ancestors of Sigurd or Siegfried, the hero of the Nibelungen Lied. There are, besides, Sagas of all imaginable fictions of heroes, saints, magicians, conquerors, and fair women. Almost every leading family of Iceland had its written saga. The Sagamen, like the Scalds, traveled over all Scandinavia, visited the courts and treasured up and transmitted to posterity the whole history of the North. This wonderful activity of the Scandinavian mind from the ninth to the thirteenth century, both in amount and originality, throws completely into the shade the literary achievements of the Anglo-Saxons during the same period.
When Christianity superseded the ancient religion, the spirit and traditions of the old mythology remained in the minds of the people, and became their fireside literature under the name of "Folk Sagas." Their legends and nursery tales are diffused over modern Scandinavia, and appear, with many variations, through all the literature of Europe. Among them are found the originals of "Jack the Giant Killer," "Cinderella," "Blue Beard," the "Little Old Woman Cut Shorter," "The Giant who smelt the Blood of an Englishman," and many others.
The Folk Sagas have only recently been collected, but they are the true productions of ancient Scandinavians.
The art of the Scald and Sagaman, which was extinguished with the introduction of Christianity, revived after a time in the Romances of Chivalry and the popular ballads. These ballads are classified as heroic, supernatural, historic, and ballads of love and romance; they successively describe all the changes in the life and opinions of society, and closely resemble those of England, Scotland, and Germany. They are the common expression of the life and feelings of a common race, under the prevailing influences of the same period, and the same stories often inspired the nameless bards of both countries. They are composed in the same form and possess the same curious characteristic of the refrain or chorus which distinguishes this poetry in its transition from the epic to the lyric form. They express a peculiar poetic feeling which is sought for in vain in the epic age—a sentiment which, without art and without name, wanders on until it is caught up by fresh lips, and becomes the regular interpreter of the same feelings. Thus this simple voice of song travels onward from mouth to month, from heart to heart, the language of the general sorrows, hopes, and memories; strange, and yet near to every one, centuries old, yet never growing older, since the human heart, whose history it relates in so many changing images and notes, remains forever the same.
Though the great majority of the popular ballads of Scandinavia are attributed to the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, the composition of them by no means ceased then. This voice of the people continued more or less to find expression down to the close of the last century, when it became the means of leading back its admirers to truth and genuine feeling, and, more than anything else, contributed to the revival of a new era in literature.
5. DANISH LITERATURE—In taking leave of the splendid ancient literature of Scandinavia, we find before us a waste of nearly four centuries from the thirteenth, which presents scarcely a trace of intellectual cultivation. The ballads and tales, indeed, lingered in the popular memory and heart; fresh notes of genuine music were from time to time added to them, and they form the connecting link between the ancient and modern literature. Saxo Grammaticus and Theodoric the monk, in the thirteenth century, adopted the Latin language in their chronicles of Denmark and Norway, and from that time it usurped the place of the native tongue among the educated. In the sixteenth century the spirit of the Reformation began to exert an influence, and the Bible was translated into the popular tongue. New fields of thought were opened, a passion for literature was excited, and translations, chiefly from the German, were multiplied; a knowledge of the classics was cultivated, and, in time, a noble harvest of literature followed.
The first author who marks the new era is Arreboe (1587-1637), who has been called the Chaucer of Denmark. His chief work was the "Hexameron," or "The World's First Week." It abounds with learning, and displays great poetic beauty. The religious psalms and hymns of Kingo (1634-1703) are characterized by a simple yet powerfully expressed spirit of piety, and are still held in high esteem. His Morning and Evening Prayers, or, as he beautifully terms them, "Sighs," are admirable.
Many other names of note are found in the literature of this period, but the only one who achieved a world-wide celebrity, was Tycho Brahe (1546- 1601), who, for a time, was the centre of a brilliant world of science and literature. The learned and celebrated, from all countries, visited him, and he was loaded with gifts and honors, in return for the honor which he conferred upon his native land. But at length, through the machinations of his enemies, he lost the favor of the king, and was forced to exile himself forever from his country. The services rendered to astronomy by Tycho Brahe were great, although his theory of the universe, in which our own planet constituted the centre, has given way before the more profound one of Copernicus.
Holberg (1684-1754), a native of Norway, is commonly styled the creator of the modern literature of Denmark, and would take a high place in that of any country. In the field of satire and comedy he was a great and unquestionable master. All his actors are types, and are as real and existent at the present hour as they were actual when he sketched them. Besides satires and numerous comedies, Holberg was the author of various histories, several volumes of letters, and a book of fables.
The principal names which appear in Danish literature, from Holberg to Evald, are those of Stub, Sneedorf, Tullin, and Sheersen. Evald (1743- 1780) was the first who perceived the superb treasury of poetic wealth which lay in the far antiquity of Scandinavia, among the gods of the Odinic mythology, and who showed to his nation the grandeur and beauty which the national history had reserved for the true poetic souls who should dare to appropriate them. But the sound which he drew from the old heroic harp startled his contemporaries, while it did not fascinate them. The august figures which he brought before them seemed monstrous and uncouth. Neglected in life, and doomed to an early death, the history of this poet was painfully interesting; a strangely brilliant web of mingled gold and ordinary thread—a strangely blended fabric of glory and of grief. Solitary, poor, bowed down with physical and mental suffering, from his heart's wound, as out of a dark cleft in a rock, swelled the clear stream of song. The poem of "Adam and Eve," "Rolf Krage," the first original Danish tragedy, "Balder's Death," and "The Fishermen," are his principal productions. "Rolf Krage" is the outpouring of a noble heart, in which the most generous and exalted sentiments revel in all the inexperience of youth. "Balder's Death" is a masterpiece of beauty, sentiment, and eloquence of diction. It is full of the passion of an unhappy love, and thus expresses the burning emotions of the poet's own heart. The old northern gods and mythic personages are introduced, and the lyric element is blended with the dramatic. The lyrical drama of "The Fishermen" is perhaps the most perfect and powerful of all Evald's works. The intense interest it excites testifies to the power of the writer, while the music of the versification delights the ear. His lyric of "King Christian," now the national song of Denmark, is a masterly production of its kind.
During the forty years which succeeded the death of Evald, Denmark produced a great number of poets and authors of various kinds, who advanced the fame of their country; but the chief of those who closed the eighteenth century are Baggesen (1764-1826) and Rahbek (1760-1830). Though they still wrote in the nineteenth century, they belonged in spirit essentially to the eighteenth. The life of Baggesen was a genuine romance, with all its sunshine and shade. He was born in poverty and obscurity, and when a child of seven years old, on one occasion, attracted the momentary attention of the young and lovely Queen Caroline, who took him in her arms and kissed him. "Still, after half a century," he writes, "glows the memory of that kiss; to all eternity I shall never forget it. From that kiss sprang the germ of my entire succeeding fate." After a long and severe struggle with poverty, he suddenly found himself the most popular poet of the country, and for a quarter of a century he was the petted favorite of the nation. Supplanted in public favor by the rising glory of Oehlenschläger, he had the misfortune to see the poetic crown of Denmark placed on the head of his rival; and the last years of his life were embittered by disappointment and care. The works of Baggesen fill twelve volumes, and consist of comic stories, numerous letters, satires and impassioned lyrics, songs and ballads, besides dramas and operas. His "Poems to Nanna," who, in the northern mythology, is the bride of Balder, are among the most beautiful in the Danish language, and no poet could have written them until he had gone through the deep and ennobling baptism of suffering. In these, Nanna is the symbol of the pure and eternal principle of love, and Balder is the type of the human heart, perpetually yearning after it in sorrow, yet in hope. Nanna appears lost—departed into a higher and invisible world; and Balder, while forever seeking after her, bears with him an internal consciousness that there he shall overtake her, and possess her eternally. One of Baggesen's characteristics was the projection of great schemes, which were never accomplished. He was too fond of living in the present—in the charmed circle of admiring friends— to achieve works otherwise within the limit of his powers. Bat with all his faults, his works will always remain brilliant and beautiful amid the literary wealth of his country.
In the early part of the nineteenth century the new light which radiated from Germany found its way into Denmark, and in no country was the result so rapid or so brilliant. There soon arose a school of poets who created for themselves a reputation in all parts of Europe that would have done honor to any age or country. A new epoch in the language began with Oehlenschläger (1779-1856), the greatest poet of Denmark, and the representative, not only of the North, but, like Scott, Byron, Goethe, and Schiller, the outgrowth of a great era as well, and the incarnation of the broader and more natural spirit of his time. In 1819 he published the "Gods of the North," in which he combines all the legends of the Edda into one connected whole. He entered fully into the spirit of these grand old poems, and condensed and elaborated them into one. In the various regions of gods, giants, dwarfs, and men, in the striking variety of characters, the great and wise Odin, the mighty Thor, the good Balder, the malicious Loke, the queenly Frigga, the genial Freya, the lovely Iduna, the gentle Nanna—in all the magnificent scenery of Midgard, Asgard, and Nifelheim, with the glorious tree Yggdrasil and the rainbow bridge, the poet found inexhaustible scope for poetical embellishment, and he availed himself of it all with a genuine poet's power. The dramas of Oehlenschläger are his masterpieces, but they form only a small portion of his works. His prose stories and romances fill several volumes, and his smaller poems would of themselves have established almost a greater reputation than that of any Danish poet who went before him.
Grundtvig (b. 1783) is one of the most original and independent minds of the North. As a preacher he was fervid and eloquent; as a writer on the Scandinavian mythology and hero-life, he gave, perhaps, the truest idea of the spirit of the northern myths.
Blicher (1782-1868) was a stern realist, who made his native province of Jutland the scene of his poems and stories, which in many respects resemble those of Crabbe.
Ingemann (1789-1862) is a voluminous writer in every department of literature. His historical romances are the delight of the people, who, by their winter firesides, forget their snow-barricaded woods and mountains in listening to his pages.
Heiberg (1791-1860) as a critic ruled the Danish world of taste for many years, and by his writings did much to elevate dramatic art and public sentiment. The greatest authoress that Denmark has produced is the Countess Gyllenbourg (1773-1856). Her knowledge of life, sparkling wit, and faultless style, make her stories, the authorship of which was unknown before her death, masterpieces of their kind.
The greatest pastoral lyrist of this country is Winther (1796-1876). His descriptions of scenery and rural life have an extraordinary charm. Hertz (1796-1870) is the most cosmopolitan Danish writer of his time. Müller (1809-1876) is celebrated for his comedies, tragedies, lyrics, and satires, all of which prove the immense breadth of his compass and the inexhaustible riches of his imagination.
Hans Christian Andersen (1805-1875) is known to the English reader by his stories and legends for the young, his romances, and autobiography. He was born of humble peasants, and early attracted the attention of persons in power, who, with that liberality to youthful genius so characteristic of Denmark, enabled him to enter the university, and afterwards to travel over Europe. The "Improvisatore" is considered the best of his romances.
Three writers connect the age of romanticism with the present day,—Plong (b. 1812), a vigorous politician and poet; Goldschmidt (b. 1818), author of novels and poems in the purest Danish; Hastrup (b. 1818), the author of a series of comedies unrivaled in delicacy and wit.
Among the names distinguished in science are those of Malte Brun in geography; Rask, Grundtvig, Molbech, Warsaae, Rafn, Finn Magnusen and others in philology and literary antiquities. Of the two brothers Oersted, one, a lawyer and statesman, has done much to establish the principles of state economy, while the discoveries of the other entitle him to the highest rank in physical science.
6. SWEDISH LITERATURE.—The first independent literature of modern Scandinavia was, as we have seen, the popular songs and ballads which, during the Middle Ages, kept alive the germ of intellectual life. The effect of the Reformation was soon seen in the literature of Sweden, as of other countries. The first intellectual development displayed itself in the dramatic attempt of Messenius and his son, who changed and substituted actual history for legendary and scriptural subjects. The genius of Sweden, however, is essentially lyrical, rather than dramatic or epic. Stjernhjelm (1598-1672) was a writer of great merit,—the author of many dramas, lyrics, and epic and didactic poems. He so far surpassed his contemporaries that he decided the character of his country's literature for a century; but his influence was finally lost in the growing Italian and German taste. The principal names of this period are those of Lucidor, a wild, erratic genius; Mrs. Brenner, the first female writer of Sweden, whose numerous poems are distinguished for their neat and easy style; and Spegel (d. 1711), whose Psalms, full of the simplest beauty, give him a lasting place in the literature of the country. The literary taste of Sweden, in the seventeenth century, made great progress; native genius awoke to conscious power, and the finest productions of Europe were quoted and commented on.
During the eighteenth century, French taste prevailed all over Europe; not only the manners, etiquette, and toilets of France were imitated, the fashion of its literature was also adopted. Corneille, Racine, Molière, and Boileau stamped their peculiar philosophy of literature on the greater portion of the civilized world. Imagination was frozen by these cold, glittering models; life and originality became extinct, imitator followed upon imitator, until there was a universal dearth of soul; and men gravely asserted that everything had been said and done in poetry and literature that could be said and done. What a glorious reply has since been given to this utterance of inanity and formalism, in a countless host of great and original names, all the world knows. But in no country was this Gallomania more strongly and enduringly prevalent than in Sweden. The principal writers of the early part of the Gallic period are Dalin, Nordenflycht, Creutz, and Gyllenborg. As a prose writer, rather than a poet, Dalin deserves remembrance. He established a periodical in imitation of the "Spectator," and through this conferred the same benefits on Swedish literature that Addison conferred on that of England,—a great improvement in style, and the origination of a national periodical literature. Charlotte Nordenflycht (b. 1718) is called the Swedish Sappho. Her poetry is all love and sorrow, as her life was; in a better age she would have been a better poetess, for she possessed great feeling, passion, and imagination. She exerted a wide influence on the literary life of her time, in the capital, where the coteries which sprung up about her embraced all the poets of the day. Gyllenborg and Creutz were deficient in lyric depth, and were neither of them poets of the first order.
Of the midday of the Gallic era, the king, Gustavus III. (1771-1792), Kellgren, Leopold, and Oxenstjerna are the chiefs. Gustavus was a master of rhetoric, and in all his poetical tendencies fast bound to the French system. He was, however, the true friend of literature, and did whatever lay in his power to promote it, and to honor and reward literary men. In 1786 he established the Swedish Academy, which for a long time continued to direct the public taste. As an orator, Gustavus has rarely found a rival in the annals of Sweden, and his dramas in prose possess much merit, and are still read with interest.
Kellgren (1751-1795) was the principal lyric poet of this period. His works betray a tendency to escape from the bondage of his age, and open a new spring-time in Swedish poetry. For his own fame, and that of his age, his early death was a serious loss. Leopold (1756-1829) continued to sway the literary sceptre, after the death of Kellgren, for the remainder of the century. He is best known by his dramas and miscellaneous poems. His plays have the faults that belong to his school, but many of his poems abound with striking thoughts, and are elastic and graceful in style. The great writer of this period, however, was Oxenstjerna (1750-1818), a descriptive poet, who, with all the faults of his age and school, displays a deep feeling for nature. His pictures of simple life, amid the fields and woods of Sweden, are full of idyllic beauty and attractive grace.
As the French taste overspread Europe at very nearly the same time, so its influence decayed and died out almost simultaneously. In France itself, long before the close of the eighteenth century, elements were at work destined to produce the most extraordinary changes in the political, social, and literary condition of the world. Even those authors who were most French were most concerned in preparing this astounding revolution. In many countries it was not the French doctrines, but the French events, that startled, dazzled, and excited the human heart and imagination, and produced the greatest effects on literature. Those who sympathized least with French views were often most influenced by the magnificence of the scenes which swept over the face of the civilized world, and antagonism was not less potent than sympathy to arouse the energies of mind. But even before these movements had produced any marked effect, Gallic influence began to give way, and genius began freely to range the earth and choose its materials wherever God and man were to be found.
The heralds of the new era in Sweden were Bellman, Hallman, Kexel, Wallenberg, Lidner, Thorild, and Lengren. Bellman (1740-1795) is regarded by the Swedes with great enthusiasm. There is something so perfectly national in his spirit that he finds an echo of infinite delight in all Swedish hearts. Everything patriotic, connected with home life and feelings, home memories, the loves and pleasures of the past, all seem to be associated with the songs of Bellman. Hallman, his friend, wrote comedies and farces. His characters are drawn from the bacchanalian class described in Bellman's lyrics, but they are not sufficiently varied in their scope and sphere to create an actual Swedish drama. Kexel, the friend of the two last named, lived a gay and vagabond life, and is celebrated for his comedies. Wallenberg was a clergyman, full of the enjoyment of life, and disposed to see the most amusing side of everything. Lidner and Thorild, unlike the writers just named, were grave, passionate, and sorrowful. Lidner was a nerve-sick, over-excited genius; but many of his inspired thoughts struck deep into the heart of the time, and Swedish literature is highly indebted to Thorild for the spirit of manly freedom and the principles of sound reasoning and taste which he introduced into it.
One of the most interesting names of the transition period is that of Anna Maria Lengren (1754-1811). She has depicted the scenes of domestic and social life with a skill and firmness, yet a delicacy of touch that is perhaps more difficult of attainment than the broad lines of a much more ambitious style. Her scenes and personages are all types, and her heroes and heroines continually present themselves in Swedish life in perpetual and amusing reproduction. These poems will secure her a place among the classical writers of her country.
The political revolution of 1809 secured the freedom of the press, new men arose for the new times, and a deadly war was waged between the old school and the new, until the latter triumphed. The first distinguished names of the new school are those of Franzén and Wallin. Franzén (1772-1847), a bishop, was celebrated for his lyrics of social life, and in many points resembles Wordsworth. The qualities of heart, the home affections, and the gladsome and felicitous appreciation of the beauty of life and nature found in his poems, give him his great charm. Archbishop Wallin (1779- 1839) is the great religious poet of Sweden. In his hymns there is a strength and majesty, a solemn splendor and harmony of intonation, that have no parallel in the Swedish language.
Among other writers of the time are Atterbom, Hammarsköld, and Palmblad. The works of Atterbom (b. 1790) indicate great lyrical talent, but they have an airy unreality, which disappoints the healthy appetite of modern readers. Hammarsköld (1785-1827) was an able critic and literary historian, though his poems are of little value. Palmblad, besides being a critic, is the author of several novels and translations from the Greek. These three writers belonged to the Phosphoric School, so called from a periodical called "The Phosphorus," which advocated their opinions.
The most distinguished school in Swedish literature is the Gothic, which took its rise in 1811, and which, aiming at a national spirit and character, embraced in that nationality all the Gothic race as one original family, possessing the same ancestry, original religion, traditions, and even still the same spirit, predilections, and language, although broken into several dialects. This new school had truth, nature, and the spirit of the nation and the times with it, and it speedily triumphed. First in the rank of its originators may be placed Geijer (1783-1847), who was at once a poet, musician, and historian; his poems are among the most precious treasures of Swedish literature. In his "Chronicles of Sweden" he penetrates far into the mists and darkness of antiquity, and brings thence magnificent traces of men and ages that point still onward to the times and haunts of the world's youth. The work presents all that belongs to the North, its gods, its mythic doctrines, its grand traditions, its heroes, vikings, runes, and poets, carrying whole ages of history in their trains. In his hands the dry bones of history and chronology live like the actual flesh and blood of the present time. As Geijer is the first historian of Sweden, so is Tegnér (1782-1848) the first poet; and in his "Frithiof's Saga" he has made the nearest approach to a successful epic writer. Although this poem has rather the character of a series of lyrical poems woven into an epic cycle, it is still a complete and great poem. It is characterized by tender, sensitive, and delicate feeling rather than by deep and overwhelming passion. In the story he has, for the most part, adhered to the ancient Saga. Tegner is as yet only the most popular poet of Sweden; but the bold advance which he has made beyond the established models of the country shows what Swedish poets may yet accomplish by following on in the track of a higher and freer enterprise. The other most prominent poets of the new school are Stagnelius (1793-1828), who bears a strong resemblance to Shelley in his tendency to the mythic and speculative, and in his wonderful power of language and affluence of inspired phrase; Almquist (d. 1866), an able and varied writer, who has written with great wit, brilliancy, and power in almost every department; Vitalis (d. 1828), the author of some religious poetry; Dahlgren, an amusing author, and Fahlcrantz, who wrote "Noah's Ark," a celebrated humorous poem. Runeberg, one of the truest and greatest poets of the North, is a Finn by birth, though he writes in Swedish; with all the wild melancholy character of his country he mingles a deep feeling of its sufferings and its wrongs. His verse is solemn and strong, like the spirit of its subject. He brings before you the wild wastes and the dark woods of his native land, and its brave, simple, enduring people. You feel the wind blow fresh from the vast, dark woodlands; you follow the elk- hunters through the pine forests or along the shores of remote lakes; you lie in desert huts and hear the narratives of the struggles of the inhabitants with the ungenial elements, or their contentions with more ungenial men. Runeberg seizes on life wherever it presents itself in strong and touching forms,—in the beggar, the gypsy, or the malefactor,— it is enough for him that it is human nature, doing and suffering, and in these respects he stands preeminently above all the poets of Sweden.
Besides the poets already spoken of, there are many others who cannot here be even named.
If the literature of Sweden is almost wholly modern, its romance literature is especially so. Cederborg was not unlike Dickens in his peculiar walk and character, and in all his burlesque there is something kind, amiable, and excellent. He was followed by many others, who displayed much talent, correct sketching of costumes and manners, and touches of true descriptive nature.
But an authoress now appeared who was to create a new era in Swedish novel-writing, and to connect the literary name and interests of Sweden more intimately with the whole civilized world. In 1828, Fredrika Bremer (1802-1865) published her first works, which were soon followed by others, all of which attracted immediate attention. Later they were made known to the English and American public through the admirable translations of Mrs. Howitt, and now they are as familiar as "Robinson Crusoe," or the "Vicar of Wakefield," wherever the English language is spoken. Wherever these works have been known they have awakened a more genial judgment of life, a better view of the world and its destinies, a deeper trust in Providence, and a persuasion that to enjoy existence truly ourselves is to spread that enjoyment around us to our fellow-men, and especially by the daily evidences of good-will, affection, cheerfulness, and graceful attention to the feelings of others, which, in the social and domestic circle, are so small in their appearance, but immense in their consequences. As a teacher of this quiet, smiling, but deeply penetrating philosophy of life, no writer has yet arisen superior to Fredrika Bremer, while she has all the time not even professed to teach, but only to entertain.
The success of Miss Bremer's writings produced two contemporaneous female novelists of no ordinary merit—the Baroness Knorring (d. 1833) and Emily Carlon (b. 1833). The works of the former are distinguished by a brilliant wit and an extraordinary power of painting life and passion, while a kind and amiable feeling pervades those of the latter. Among the later novelists of Sweden are many names distinguished in other departments of literature.
In conclusion, there are in Sweden hosts of able authors in whose hands all sciences, history, philology, antiquities, theology, every branch of natural and moral philosophy and miscellaneous literature have been elaborated with a talent and industry of which any nation might be proud. Among the names of a world-wide fame are those, of Swedenborg (1688-1772), not more remarkable for his peculiar religious ideas than for his profound and varied acquirements in science; Linnaeus (1707-1778), the founder of the established system of botany; and Scheele (1742-1786), eminent in chemistry.
If the literature of Scandinavia continues to develop during the present century with the strength and rapidity it has manifested during the last, it will present to the mind of the English race rich sources of enjoyment of a more congenial spirit than that of any other part of the European continent; and the more this literature Is cultivated the more it will be perceived that we are less an Anglo-Saxon than a Scandinavian race.
The last few years in Sweden have been a period of political rather than literary activity, yielding comparatively few works of high aesthetic value, Rydborg, a statesman and metaphysician, has produced a powerful work of fiction, "The Last Athenian," and other works of minor importance have been produced in various departments of literature.
LITERATURE OF NORWAY.—Norway cannot be said to have had a literature distinct from the Danish until after its union with Sweden in 1814. The period from that time to the present has been one of great literary activity in all departments, and many distinguished names might be mentioned, among them that of Björnson (b. 1832), whose tales have been extensively translated. Jonas Lie who enjoys a wide popularity, Camilla Collett, and Magdalene Thoresen are also favorite writers. Wergeland and Welhaven were two distinguished poets of the first half of the century. Kielland is an able novelist of the realistic school, and Professor Boyesen is well known in the United States for his tales and poems in English. Henrick Ibsen is the most distinguished dramatic writer of Norway and belongs to the realistic school. Among other writers of the present time are Börjesson whose "Eric XIV." is a masterpiece of Swedish drama; Tekla Knös, a poetess whose claims have been sanctioned by the Academy; and Claude Gérard (nom de plume), very popular as a novelist. Charles XV. and Oscar II. are poets of merit.
GERMAN LITERATURE.
INTRODUCTION.—1. German Literature and its Divisions.—2. The Mythology. —3. The Language.
PERIOD FIRST.—1. Early Literature; Translation of the Bible by Ulphilas; the Hildebrand Lied.—2. The Age of Charlemagne; his Successors; the Ludwig's Lied; Roswitha; the Lombard Cycle.—3. The Suabian Age; the Crusades; the Minnesingers; the Romances of Chivalry; the Heldenbuch; the Nibelungen Lied.—4. The Fourteenth and Fifteenth Centuries; the Mastersingers; Satires and Fables; Mysteries and Dramatic Representations; the Mystics; the Universities; the Invention of Printing.
PERIOD SECOND.—From 1517 to 1700.—1. The Lutheran Period: Luther,
Melanchthon.—2. Manuel, Zwingle, Fischart, Franck, Arnd, Boehm.—3.
Poetry, Satire, and Demonology; Paracelsus and Agrippa; the Thirty Years'
War.—4. The Seventeenth Century: Opitz, Leibnitz, Puffendorf, Kepler,
Wolf, Thomasius, Gerhard; Silesian Schools; Hoffmannswaldau, Lohenstein.
PERIOD THIRD.—1. The Swiss and Saxon Schools: Gottsched, Bodmer, Rabener,
Gellert, Kästner, and others.—2. Klopstock, Lessing, Wieland, and Herder.
—3. Goethe and Schiller.—4. The Göttingen School: Voss, Stolberg,
Claudius, Bürger, and others.—5. The Romantic School: the Schlegels,
Novalis; Tieck, Körner, Arndt, Uhland, Heine, and others.—6. The Drama:
Goethe and Schiller; the Power Men; Müllner, Werner, Howald, and
Grillparzer.—7. Philosophy: Kant, Fichte, Schelling, Hegel, Schopenhauer,
and Hartmann; Science: Liebig, Du Bois-Raymond, Virchow, Helmholst,
Haeckel.—8. Miscellaneous Writings.
INTRODUCTION.
1. GERMAN LITERATURE AND ITS DIVISIONS.—Central Europe, from the Adriatic to the Baltic, is occupied by a people who, however politically divided as respects language and race, form but one nation. The name Germans is that given to them by the Romans; the appellation which they apply to themselves is Deutsch, a term derived from Teutones, by which they were generally known, as also by the term Goths, in the early history of Europe.
In glancing at the various phases of German literature, we see the bards at first uttering in primitive strains their war songs and traditions. The introduction of Christianity brought with it the cultivation of the classic languages, although the people had no part in this learned literature, which was confined to the monasteries and schools. In the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, letters, so long monopolized by the clergy, passed from their hands to those of the princes and nobles; and in the next century the songs of the minnesingers gave way to the pedantic craft of the mastersingers.
A great intellectual regeneration followed the Reformation, but it was of brief duration. With the death of Luther and Melanchthon the lofty spirit of reform degenerated into scholasticism, and the scholars were as exclusive in their dispensation of intellectual light as the clergy had been at an earlier period. While the priests, the minstrels, and the bookmen had each enlarged the avenues to knowledge, they were still closed and locked to the masses of the people; and so they remained, until philosophy arose to break down all barriers and to throw open to humanity at large the whole domain of knowledge and literature.
In the midst of the convulsions which marked the close of the eighteenth century, the leading minds of Germany sought a solution of the great problems of civilization in the abysses of philosophy. Kant and his compeers gave an electric impulse to the German mind, the effects of which were manifest in the men who soon arose to apply the new discoveries of philosophy to literature. In Lessing, Herder, Goethe, and Schiller, the clergy, the minstrels, and the bookmen were each represented, but philosophy had breathed into them an all-embracing, cosmical spirit of humanity, and under their influence German literature soon lost its exclusive and sectional character, and became cosmopolitan and universal.
The long cycle of literary experiments, however, is not yet completed. Since the philosophers have accomplished their mission by establishing principles, and the poets have made themselves intelligible to the masses, the German mind has entered upon the exploration of all spheres of learning, and is making new and great advances in the solution of the problems of humanity. The most eminent scholars, no longer pursuing their studies as a matter of art or taste, are inspired by the noble desire of diffusing knowledge and benefiting their fellow-beings; and to grapple with the laws of nature, and to secure those conditions best adapted to the highest human welfare, are their leading aims. The German explorers of the universe have created a new school of natural philosophers; German historians are sifting the records of the past and bringing forth great political, social, and scientific revelations. In geography, ethnology, philology, and in all branches of science, men of powerful minds are at work, carrying the same enthusiasm into the world of fact that the poets have shown in the fairy-land of the imagination. To these earnest questioners, these untiring explorers, nature is reluctantly unveiling her mysteries, and history is giving up the buried secrets of the ages. The lyre of the bard may be silent for a time, but this mighty struggle with the forces of nature and with the obscurities of the past will at last inspire a new race of poets and open a new vein of poetry, far more rich than the world of fancy has ever afforded. Science, regarded from this lofty point of view, will gradually assume epic proportions, and other and more powerful Schillers and Goethes will arise to illustrate its achievements.
The history of German literature may be divided into three periods.
The first, extending from the earliest times to the beginning of the
Reformation, 1517, embraces the early literature; that of the reign of
Charlemagne and his successors; that of the Suabian age (1138-1272), and
of the first centuries of the reign of the House of Hapsburg.
The second period, extending from 1517 to 1700, includes the literature of the age of the Reformation, and of the Thirty Years' War.
The third period, from 1700 to the present time, contains the development of German literature in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.
2. THE MYTHOLOGY.—The German mythology is almost identical with the Scandinavian, and in it, as in all the legends of the North, women play an important part. Indeed, they occupied a far higher position among these ancient barbarians than in the polished nations of Greece and Rome. "It is believed," says Tacitus, "that there is something holy and prophetic about them, and therefore the warriors neither despise their counsels nor disregard their responses."
The Paganism of the North, less graceful and beautiful than that of Greece, had still the same tendency to people earth, air, and water with beings of its own creation. The rivers had their Undines, the ocean its Nixes, the caverns their Gnomes, and the woods their Sprites. Christianity did not deny the existence of these supernatural races, but it invested them with a demoniac character. They were not regarded as immortal, although permitted to attain an age far beyond that granted to mankind, and they were denied the hope of salvation, unless purchased by a union with creatures of an earthly mould.
According to the Edda, the Dwarfs were formed by Odin from the dust. They were either Cobolds—house spirits who attach themselves to the fortunes of the family, and, if well fed and treated, nestle beside the domestic hearth—or Gnomes, who haunt deserted mansions and deep caverns. The mountain echoes are the mingled sounds of their voices as they mock the cries of the wanderer, and the fissures of the rocks are the entrances to their subterranean abodes. Here they have heaped up countless treasures of gold, silver, and precious stones, and here they pass their time in fabricating costly armor. The German Elves, like those of other climes, have an irresistible propensity to dance and song, especially the Nixes, who, rising from their river or ocean home, will seat themselves on the shore and pour forth such sweet music as to enchant all who hear them, and are ever ready to impart their wondrous skill for the hope or promise of salvation. To secure this, they also lure young maidens to their watery domains, and force or persuade them to become their brides. If they submit, they are allowed to sit on the rocks and wreathe their tresses with corals, sea-weeds, and shells; but if they manifest any desire to return to their homes, a streak of blood on the surface of the waters tells the dark story of their doom.
The Walkyres are the youthful maidens who have died upon their bridal eve, and who, unable to rest in their graves, return to earth and dance in the silver rays of the moon; but if a mortal chances to meet them, they surround and draw him within their magic ring, till, faint and exhausted, he falls lifeless to the earth. Not less dangerous are the river-maids, who, rising to the surface of the stream, lure the unwary traveler into the depths below. There are also the White Women, who often appear at dawn or evening, with their pale faces and shadowy forms; these are the goddesses of ancient Paganism, condemned to wander through ages to expiate the guilt of having received divine worship, and to suffer eternal punishment if not redeemed by mortal aid. Among the goddesses who, in the form of White Women, were long believed to exercise an influence for good or ill on human affairs, Hertha and Frigga play the most conspicuous parts, and figure in many wild legends; proving how strong was the hold which the creed of their ancestors had on the minds of the Germans long after its idols had been broken and its shrines destroyed. Hertha still cherished the same beneficent disposition ascribed to her in the old mythology, and continued to watch over and aid mankind until driven away by the calumnies of which she was the victim, while Frigga appears as a fearful ogress and sorceress.
These popular superstitions, which retained their power over the minds of the people during the Middle Ages, and which even now are not wholly eradicated, have furnished a rich mine from which the poets and tale- writers of Germany have derived that element of the supernatural by which they are so often characterized.
3. THE LANGUAGE.—The Teutonic languages, which belong to the Indo- European stock, consist of two branches; the Northern or Scandinavian, and the Southern or German of the continent. The latter has three subdivisions; the Eastern or Gothic, with its kindred idioms, the high German or German proper,—the literary idiom of Germany,—and the low German, which includes the Frisian, old Saxon, Anglo-Saxon, Dutch, and Flemish. The high German, or German proper, comprehends the language of three periods: the old high German, which prevailed from the seventh to the eleventh century; the middle high German, from the eleventh century to the time of the Reformation; and the new high German, which dates from the time of Luther, and is the present literary language of the country.
No modern language equals the German in its productiveness and its capacity of constant and homogeneous growth, in its aesthetical and philosophical character, and in its originality and independence. Instead of borrowing from the Greek, Latin, and other languages, to find expressions for new combinations of ideas, it develops its own resources by manifold compositions of its own roots, words, and particles. To express one idea in its various modifications, the English requires Teutonic, Greek, and Latin elements, while the German tongue unfolds all the varieties of the same idea by a series of compositive words founded upon one Gothic root. The German language, therefore, while it is far superior in originality, flexibility, richness, and universality, does not admit the varieties which distinguish the English.
PERIOD FIRST
FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES TO THE REFORMATION (360-1517).
1. EARLY LITERATURE.—Previous to the introduction of Christianity the Germans had nothing worthy of the name of literature. The first monument that has come down to us is the translation of the Bible into Moeso- Gothic, by Ulphilas, bishop of the Goths (360-388), who thus anticipated the work of Luther by a thousand years.
As the art of writing was unknown to the Goths, Ulphilas formed an alphabet by combining Runic, Greek, and Roman, letters, and down to the ninth century this version was held in high esteem and seems to have been in general use. For nearly four hundred years after Ulphilas, no trace of literature is discovered among the Teutonic tribes. They, however, had their war-songs, and minstrel skill seems to have been highly prized by them. These lays were collected by Charlemagne, and are described by Eginhardt as "ancient barbarous poems, celebrating the deeds and wars of the men of old;" but they have nearly all disappeared, owing, probably, to the refusal of the monks, then the only scribes, to transmit to paper aught which tended to recall the rites and myths of Paganism. Only two relics of this age, in their primitive form, remain; they are rhymeless, but alliterated,—a kind of versification common to the German, Anglo- Saxon, and Scandinavian poetry, and which, early in the ninth century, gave place to rhyme. Of these two poems, the Hildebrand Lied Is probably a fragment of the traditions which had circulated orally for centuries, and which, with many modifications, were transcribed by the Scandinavians in their sagas, and by Charlemagne in his collection. None of the other poems which have come down to us from this period bear an earlier date than the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, when they were remodeled and appeared in the form of the Heldenbuch and Nibelungen Lied. The Hildebrand Lied belongs to the cycle of Theodoric the Great, or Dietrich of Bern or Verona, as he is called in poetry, from that town being the seat of his government after he had subdued the Empire of the West. This poem, though rude and wild, is not without grandeur and dramatic effect.
2. CHARLEMAGNE AND HIS SUCCESSORS.—The era of Charlemagne, in all respects so memorable, could not be without influence on the literature of Germany, then in a condition of almost primitive rudeness. The German, language was taught by his command in the schools and academies which he established in all parts of the empire; he caused the monks to preach in the vernacular tongue, and he himself composed the elements of a grammar for the use of his subjects. He recompensed with imperial munificence the learned men who resorted to his court; Alcuin, Theodophilus, Paul Winifred, and Eginhardt were honored with his peculiar confidence. Under his influence the monasteries became literary as well as ecclesiastical seminaries, which produced such men as Otfried (fl. 840), the author of the rhymed Gospel-book, and Notker Teutonicus, the translator of the Psalms.
After the death of Charlemagne the intellectual prospects of Germany darkened. The empire was threatened by the Normans from the west, and the Hungarians from the east, and there were few places where the peaceful pursuits of the monasteries and schools could be carried on without interruption.
The most important relic of the last part of the ninth century is the "Ludwig's Lied," a hymn celebrating the victory of Louis over the Normans, composed by a monk with whom that monarch was on terms of great intimacy. The style is coarse and energetic, and blends the triumphant emotions of the warrior with the pious devotion of the recluse. Towards the close of the tenth century, Roswitha, a nun, composed several dramas in Latin, characterized by true Christian feeling and feminine tenderness.
The eleventh century presents almost an entire blank in the history of German literature. The country was invaded by the Hungarian and Slavonic armies from abroad, or was the scene of contest between the emperors and their vassals at home, and in the struggle between Henry IV. and Pope Gregory VII., the clergy, who had hitherto been the chief supporters of their literature, became estranged from the German people.
A series of lays or poems, however, known as the Lombard Cycle, belongs to this age, among which are "Duke Ernest," "Count Rudolph," and others, which combine the wild legends of Paganism with the more courtly style of the next period.
3. THE SUABIAN AGE.—A splendid epoch of belles-lettres dates from the year 1138, when Conrad III., of the Hohenstauffen dynasty, ascended the throne of the German Empire. The Crusades, which followed, filled Germany with religious and martial excitement, and chivalry was soon in the height of its splendor. The grand specimens of Gothic architecture produced during this period, the cathedrals of Ulm, Strasbourg, and Cologne, in which ponderous piles of matter were reduced to forms of beauty, speak of the great ideas and the great powers called into exercise to fulfill them. The commercial wealth of Germany was rapidly developed; thousands of serfs became freemen; large cities arose, mines were discovered, and a taste for luxury began to prevail.
In 1149, when the emperor undertook a crusade in concert with Louis VII. of France, the nobility of Germany were brought into habitual acquaintance with the nobility of France, who at that time cultivated Provençal poetry, and the result was quickly apparent in German literature. The poets began to take their inspiration from real life, and though far from being imitators, they borrowed their models from the romantic cycles of Brittany and Provence.
The emperors of the Suabian or Hohenstauffen dynasty formed a new rallying-point for the national sympathies, and their courts and the castles of their vassals proved a more genial home for the Muses than the monasteries of Fulda and St. Gall. In the Crusades, the various divisions of the German race, separated after their inroad into the seats of Roman civilization, again met; no longer with the impetuosity of Franks and Goths, but with the polished reserve of a Godfrey of Bouillon and the chivalrous bearing of a Frederic Barbarossa. The German emperors and nobles opened their courts and received their guests with brilliant hospitality; the splendor of their tournaments and festivals attracted crowds from great distances, and foremost among them poets and singers; thus French and German poetry were brought face to face. While the Hohenstauffen dynasty remained on the imperial throne (1138-1272) the Suabian dialect prevailed, the literature of chivalry was patronized at the court, and the Suabian minstrels were everywhere heard. These poets, who sang their love-songs, or minne songs (so called from an old German word signifying love), have received the name of Minnesingers. During a century and a half, from 1150 to 1300, emperors, princes, barons, priests, and minstrels vied with each other in translating and producing lays of love, satiric fables, sacred legends, fabliaux, and metrical romances. Some of the bards were poor, and recited their songs from court to court; but many of them sang merely for pleasure when their swords were unemployed. This poetry was essentially chivalric; ideal love for a chosen lady, the laments of disappointed affection, or the charms of spring, formed the constant subjects of their verse. They generally sang their own compositions, and accompanied themselves on the harp; yet some even among the titled minstrels could neither read nor write, and it is related of of one that he was forced to keep a letter from his lady-love in his bosom for ten days until he could find some one to decipher it.
Among the names of nearly two hundred Minnesingers that have come down to us, the most celebrated are Wolfram of Eschenbach (fl. 1210), Henry of Ofterdingen (fl. 1250), and Walter of the Vogel Weide (1170-1227).
The numerous romances of chivalry which were translated into German rhyme during the Suabian period have been divided into classes, or cycles. The first and earliest cycle relates to Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table; the are of Anglo-Norman origin, and were probably derived from Welsh chronicles extant in Britain and Brittany before the poets on either side of the Channel began to rhyme in the Langue d'oui. Of all the Round Table traditions, none became so popular in Germany as that of the "San Graal," or "Sang Réal" (the real blood). By this was understood a cup or charger, supposed to have served the Last Supper, and to have been employed in receiving the precious blood of Christ from the side-wound given on the cross. This relic is stated to have been brought by Joseph of Arimathea into northern Europe, and to have been intrusted by him to the custody of Sir Parsifal. Wolfram of Eschenbach, in his "Parsifal," relates the adventures of the hero who passed may years of pilgrimage in search of the sanctuary of the Graal. The second cycle of romance, respecting Charlemagne and his twelve peers, was mostly translated from the literature of France. The third cycle relates to the heroes of classical antiquity, and exhibits them in the costume of chivalry. Among them are the stories of Alexander the Great, and "Aeneid," and the "Trojan War."
But the age of German chivalry and chivalric poetry soon passed away. Toward the end of the thirteenth century the Crusades languished, and the contest between the imperial and papal powers raged fiercely; with the death of Frederic I. the star of the Suabian dynasty set, and the sweet sounds of the Suabian lyre died away with the last breath of Conradin on the scaffold at Naples, in 1268.
During this period there was a wide difference between the minstrelsy patronized by the nobility and the old ballads preserved by the popular memory. These, however, were seized upon by certain poets of the time, probably Henry of Ofterdingen, Wolfram of Eschenbach, and others, and reduced to the epic form, in which they have come down to us under the titles of the Heldenbuch and the Nibelungen Lied. They contain many singular traits of a warlike age, and we have proof of their great antiquity in the morals and manners which they describe.
The Heldenbuch, or Book of Heroes, which, in its present form, belongs to the close of the twelfth century, is a collection of poems, containing traditions of events which happened in the time of Attila, and the irruptions of the German nations into the Roman Empire. The principal personages who figure in these tales of love and war are Etzel or Attila, Dietrich or Theodoric the Great, Siegfried, the Achilles of the North, Gudrune, Hagan, and others, who reappear in the Nibelungen Lied, and who have been already alluded to in the heroic legends of the Scandinavian Edda. The Nibelungen Lied (from Nibelungen, the name of an ancient powerful Burgundian race, and Lied, a lay or song) occupies an important place in German literature, and in grandeur of design and beauty of execution it far surpasses any other poetical production of this period. The "Horny Siegfried," one of the poems of the Heldenbuch, serves as a sort of prelude to the Nibelungen. In that, Siegfried appears as the personification of manly beauty, virtue, and prowess; invulnerable, from having bathed in the blood of some dragons which he had slain, save in one spot between his shoulders, upon which a leaf happened to fall. Having rescued the beautiful Chriemhild from, the power of a giant or dragon, and possessed himself of the treasures of the dwarfs, he restores her to her father, the King of the ancient city of Worms, where he is received with regal honors, and his marriage with Chriemhild celebrated with unparalleled splendor.
In the Nibelungen, Chriemhild is represented as the sister of Günther the King of Burgundy; the gallant Siegfried having heard of her surpassing beauty, resolves to woo her for his bride, but all his splendid achievements fail to secure her favors. In the mean time tidings reach the court of the fame of the beautiful Brunhild, queen of Isenland, of her matchless courage and strength; every suitor for her hand being forced to abide three combats with her, and if vanquished to suffer a cruel death. Günther resolves to try his fortune, and to win her or perish, and Siegfried accompanies him on condition that the hand of Chriemhild shall be his reward if they succeed.
At the court of Brunhild, Siegfried presents himself as the vassal of Günther, to increase her sense of his friend's power, and this falsehood is one cause of the subsequent calamities. In the combats, Siegfried, becoming invisible by means of a magic cap he had obtained from the dwarfs, seizes the arm of Günther and enables him to overcome the martial maid in every feat of arms: and the vanquished Brunhild bids her vassals do homage to him as their lord. A double union is now celebrated with the utmost pomp and rejoicing. The proud Brunhild, however, is indignant at her sister-in-law wedding a vassal. In vain Günther assures her that Siegfried is a mighty prince in his own country; the offended queen determines to punish his deception, and ties him hand and foot with her magic girdle, and hangs him upon a nail; Siegfried pitying the condition of the king, promises his aid in depriving the haughty queen of the girdle, the source of all her magic strength. He successfully accomplishes the feat, and in a luckless hour presents the trophy to Chriemhild, and confides the tale to her ear. A dispute having afterwards arisen between the two queens, Chriemhild, carried away by pride and passion, produces the fatal girdle, a token which, if found in the possession of any save the husband, was regarded as an almost irrefutable proof of guilt among the nations of the North. At this Brunhild vows revenge, and is aided by the fierce Hagan, Günther's most devoted follower, who, having induced Chriemhild to confide to him the secret of the spot where Siegfried is mortal, seizes the first occasion to plunge a lance between his shoulders, and afterwards bears the body to the chamber door of Chriemhild, who is overwhelmed with grief and burning with resentment. To secure her revenge she at length marries Etzel, or Attila, king of the Huns, who invites the Burgundians to his court, and at a grand festival Chriemhild involves them in a bloody battle, in which thousands are slain on both sides. Günther and Hagan are taken prisoners by Dietrich of Berne, and put to death by Chriemhild, who in turn suffers death at the hands of one of the followers of Dietrich.
Such is an imperfect outline of this ancient poem, which, despite all its horrors and improbabilities, has many passages of touching beauty, and wonderful power. Siegfried, the hero, is one of the most charming characters of romance or poetry. Chriemhild, at first all that the poet could fancy of loveliness, becomes at last an avenging fury. Brunhild is proud, haughty, stern, and vindictive, though not incapable of softer emotions.
In the Scandinavian legend we find the same personages in grander outlines and more gigantic proportions. The mythological portion of the story occupies the most prominent place, and Brunhild is there represented as a Valkyriur.
The time in which the scene of this historical tragedy is laid is about 430 A.D. From the thirteenth to the sixteenth century it was widely read, and highly appreciated. But in the succeeding age it was almost entirely forgotten. It was brought again to light in the beginning of the present century, and since that time, it has been the subject of many learned commentaries and researches.
4. THE FOURTEENTH AND FIFTEENTH CENTURIES.—The period from the accession of the House of Hapsburg to the beginning of the Reformation was crowded with events of great social importance, but its literature was remarkably poor. The palmy days of the minstrels and romancists had passed away. Rudolph was an economical prince, who mended his own doublet to spare money, and as he had no taste for minstrelsy, the composers of songs who went to his court found no rewards there. The rank and influence of the metropolis were transferred from Frankfort to Vienna, and the communication with the southern and southwestern parts of Europe was greatly impeded. The Germans were occupied in crusades against the Huns; the court language was changed from west Gothic to an east Gothic dialect, which was less national, and much of the southern culture and the European sympathies which had characterized the reign of the Suabian emperors disappeared.