Let us hope then that our countrymen will welcome this work by Miss Maude A. Biggs, a lady already so favourably known by her version of “Konrad Wallenrod.” She puts before us a translation of a celebrated poem by Mickiewicz, Pan Tadeusz, a graphic picture of old Polish life in Lithuania before the invasion of Russia by Napoleon in 1812. During the independence of Poland this country had formed a very important portion of the republic; it is now divided into Russian governments.
Perhaps the novelty of the manners described in this poem, and the graphic pictures of earlier forms of society, may recommend it to the English reader. Miss Biggs has performed her task exceedingly well, although Polish is so difficult a language and the poem she has selected is national to the very core. For the rhyming lines of the original she has substituted blank verse, a metre with which Englishmen are familiar in long poems, and which allows a translator to be more literal by emancipating him from what have been called the tags of rhyme. She is always faithful to her author, and cleverly reproduces the spirit of his poem, although something must necessarily be lost in every translation. The manly sounds of the English language are fitter than those of many others for reproducing the echoes of the vigorous Polish tongue. It is impossible not to recall to one’s mind the fine words of Casimir Brodzinski, himself a poet of no mean order. “Let,” says he, “the Pole smile with manly pride when the inhabitant of the banks of the Tiber or Seine calls his language rude; let him hear with keen satisfaction and the dignity of a judge the stranger who painfully struggles with the Polish pronunciation, like a sybarite trying to lift an old Roman coat of armour, or when he strives to articulate the language of men with the weak accent of a child. So long as courage is not wanting to our nation, and our morals have not become degraded, let us not disavow this manly roughness of our language. It has its harmony and its melody, but it is the murmur of an oak of three hundred years, and not the plaintive and feeble cry of a reed, swayed by every wind.”
The life of Mickiewicz, who died thirty years ago, was a very sad one. He was born in 1798, and at an early age became an exile, never seeing his native country after 1829. How great were his longings to revisit it, we find by the commencement of Pan Tadeusz, which breathes all the despair of an exile. He settled in Paris and became a professor of the Slavonic languages and literatures at the College de France. This office, however, he was compelled to resign on account of his identifying himself with the strange views of Towianski. His wife afterwards became He insane, and we have a pathetic portrait of the poet towards the close of his life in the Memoirs of Herzen, published originally in the Russian magazine Polar Star (Poliarnaia Zviezda). He appeared to the Russian politician as a man bowed down with troubles, prematurely grey, and lost in the labyrinths of religious mysticism. In 1855 he was sent to Constantinople to assist in forming a Polish legion to serve against the Russians in the Crimean War, and died there.
Mickiewicz is altogether a strange and interesting figure, and deserves to be known much more widely than in the comparatively narrow circle of his compatriots. He has shown excellence in many fields of literature, but especially in his ballads and narrative poems. The exquisite grace and finish of his sonnets, especially those inspired by the poet’s visit to the Crimea, will be acknowledged by all acquainted with his writings; they are the finest in any Slavonic language, and may be compared with some of the best Italian and English compositions of the same kind.
With the good wishes of a few hearty admirers of the poet this version of one of his most striking productions is venturesomely sent forth to the great English-speaking public.
Translator’s Preface
In order to have a clear understanding of the spirit in which this poem is composed, it will not perhaps be considered irrelevant to prefix a short abstract of the historical events on which it is founded, and to which reference is made in the course of the story. The wars of Napoleon, and the relation these had to the politics and prospects of the Polish nation, form the historical groundwork of the poem, which may therefore be taken as representing a portion of European history at present little known and studied. It is, however, generally admitted that for the right understanding and just appreciation of the literature of a people a certain knowledge of their past and present history is absolutely necessary, and of no people is this more true than of the Poles, whose literary works, even such as, strictly speaking, cannot be classed as historical, abound with references to the past, and are replete with allusions to historical and traditional names and events, almost every one of which must require explanation to those not previously acquainted with the subject. It is scarcely possible to study any classical work in this, perhaps the richest and most highly cultivated of all the Slavonic languages, without as it were half-unconsciously acquiring some knowledge of the traditions to which such frequent allusion is made. No further excuse it is therefore hoped will be necessary for commencing this work with an account of the chief circumstances which transpired from the year 1794 or 1795 to the beginning of 1812, between which the whole interest of this story is comprised.
After the battle of
