At Görväln

 

Today's quixotic post is about Görväln nature reserve, an area of woods and farmland on the east coast of Lake Mälaren, and on the edge of Järfälla, a satellite town of Stockholm. It's an everyday walking area for Järfälla residents like my sister and her family; I've been there several times myself, though mainly to the northern part near Kallhäll. 

In brief moments during the Christmas bustle I've been reading through this pamphlet by Kjell Landås: Görvälns naturreservat: Människa och natur i tusenårigt samspel (Görväln's nature reserve: People and nature in a thousand years of interaction). So with Kjell's help let's go for a virtual wander.  

A map of the reserve (you can read it if you zoom in)

At the heart of the reserve is the old country estate of Görväln. In the UK we might call it a stately home (though it's quite a modest one); in the Swedish text the main house is called a slott, which I usually think of as meaning "castle". Terms like this never translate exactly from one language to another. 

Free translation (the text refers to the photos):

Görväln House's main buildings date from the seventeenth century and most of the farm buildings survive. The estate controlled several smaller farms and their manpower was the engine of the area's development over several hundred years. 

The same view a century later. The estate's arboretum, i.e. collection of different species of tree and shrub, has grown up so that the house is hidden. The landscape is constantly changing. Görväln House is beautiful situated above a small inlet of Lake Mälaren. The water has been important for the area's development, supplying both transportation and fish. 

The workforce at Görväln farm in 1907. The same spot in 2012: machines have taken over the work of many labourers. 

Jan Eriksson, one of the leading lights of non-profit association The Görväln Lamb. The association's animals graze in the fields and woods of the reserve. A number of operations take place around the farm during the course of a year, for instance sheep-shearing and the autumn market. Here you can see and learn to be with the animals, and experience life on a farm. 

"Leading light". The word is eldsjäl, literally "fiery soul", a fairly common expression in Swedish. Depending on context it can also mean "enthusiast", "zealot", "powerhouse", "driving force" . . .

Continuing with translation:

Milkwort and Quaking Grass are examples of plants that thrive under older farming methods and that still exist within the reserve. Meadows are fields that are cut to make hay for the animals. Their species-richness is a side-effect but it is conducive to healthy livestock and long-term productiveness. Only after hay-making are the animals put to graze in the meadows. The expression "The meadow is the cornfield's mother" refers to how the meadow supplied the winter fodder for animals whose manure was then used in the cornfields. The size of the meadows and their yields determined the size of the cornfields. Today the meadows are often grazed without any hay-making. Some of the old hay-meadow species disappear but the land is kept open (i.e. clear of trees and scrub) and the sight of animals grazing in the meadows is beautiful. 

In the old farm community the land was divided into "inland" (inägor) and "outland" (utmarker). The "inland" consisted of fenced fields and high production land such as cornfields and meadows. Beyond lay the "outland": enclosed areas of scrubby pasture and sparse woods where the animals grazed in early and high summer. From here people also gathered firewood, fence posts and a bit of timber. At the border between the fields and the woods there are often old oak trees. But now that the woods are not grazed to the same extent the oaks are dying from being shaded out by younger trees. 

In former times the woods were used for grazing. Felling for timber was on a small scale. The woods often consisted of mixed tree species. Sometimes burning was carried out to improve the pasturage. Wetlands were valued for their fodder potential. The mixed woodland with trees of different ages favoured many species that are uncommon today.

Before the reserve was formed there was forestry in parts of Görväln, with spruce and pine stands of uniform age. Removal of dead wood, clear-felling and ground preparation (woodland ploughing) have left slow-healing scars within these woods. This type of woodland tends to be inhospitable and species-poor. Resuming small-scale management allows many life-forms to recolonize. Within Görväln reserve there are also some hard-to-reach areas that were not used very much during the era of woodland grazing; here there are habitats of an ancient woodland type with a secondary nature value. The dead trees, both standing and fallen, are homes for birds, insects and mushrooms. 

I could probably translate this better if I knew more about farming, as well as more about Swedish. 

The word translated here as "cornfield" is åker. I presume it's related to our word acre and Latin agriculture. It means arable land in general (not any specific cereal crop). 

Another distinction here is between slät (or slätt), which means smooth grassland clear of shrubby growth, and hage, which means a rough enclosed field often containing a fair few bushes and even trees. It's an important distinction in this midway part of Sweden, where the struggle between forest and plain is more finely poised than in the north or the far south.

Continuing with translation:

Görväln is easy to access for many people. A number of paths and well sign-posted walking routes pass through the area. The ancient fort of Gåseborg is a good place for a picnic with views of Lake Mälaren. It also attracts rock climbers and birdwatchers. 

Town children are sometimes unused to woods but they still build camps and climb trees. Sadly when people are in nature it sometimes leads to wear and tear, litter and graffiti, as seen here (in the photo). The rules of the reserve should of course be respected. The ground rules are simple: Do not disturb and do not destroy. So keep your dog on a lead out of consideration for other walkers and both grazing and wild animals. 

There is much to discover in the natural habitats. Apart from plants, fungi, animals and insects there are the traces of the work of former generations, for instance old field ditches, coppiced trees, stone walls and cabin foundations. 

Mistletoe is Sweden's only tree-living parasitic plant. This beautiful evergreen plant is protected throughout the land but is now spreading and it can be found in the nature reserve. 

Pause for a while before some of the region's old oak trees. Consider that these giants can be several hundred years old and be hosts for many different life forms. The oaks in this photograph are in the Hummelmora meadows. Don't miss the most spectacular oak tree in the region, close to the jetty at Sandvik. 

"Do not disturb and do not destroy". It's snappier in Swedish: Inte störa och inte förstöra. 

"Giants". The Swedish word is bjässar, literally "strapping fellows", a term often used when talking about oak trees. Sweden's oak region comes to an end not far north of Lake Mälaren: there were no oaks where my mum grew up in Sundsvall. 

I'm assuming the spectacular oak tree at Sandvik is the one shown on the front cover of the pamphlet, pictured above. 

Continuing with translation:

We modern people are healthier when we can get out into nature, as has been demonstrated in many scientific studies. Woodland that lies close to highly populated areas is a gateway to nature that we are now starting to pay more attention to. With appropriate management the experience can be enriched, e.g. the number of different species, and their variety of forms and ages. The gloomiest of production woods can start to come alive again if we people tend it with more humility. Here in Görväln's nature reserve we follow a management plan. The aim is to promote both the worth that nature has in itself and the worth it has acquired through long-standing interaction between people and nature. Examples of such interaction are the resumption of woodland grazing, clearing space around the old oaks, hay-making, restoration of wetlands that were drained, and seeking to demonstrate the good side of human activity. To omit the good influence of humans in a reserve with "free development" would mean that the spruces take over and many species would disappear, as would our reciprocal ties to nature. 

Feel free to visit the grazing animals who look after this landscape in their pastures, but remember that it's their home. Look after the fences and don't forget to shut the gates. Some of the stiles are closed in order to stop the animals getting out. 

The little beech wood beside Sandvik is planted. We are situated further north than the current natural region for beech, but this wood is thriving and it spreads itself. 

The signs in the photograph say:

WARNING: RAM

Rams in the pasture

Sheep graze and watch over this pasture. You are welcome to visit the pasture. Bear in mind that the rams may help you leave! 

Crossing the pasture is at your own risk. Dogs must be kept on a lead. 

Continuing with translation. The back cover:

Gåseborg, the beautifully situated ancient fort with fine views over Mälaren. The easily visible wall remains are in some places covered with the fern polypody which contributes its greenery even in the winter. Nearly all the nature we have around us is a result of human influence. Since prehistoric times we have cultivated the soil to make a living and at the same time formed the types of nature we have learnt to love. Meadows and fields haven't only filled our larders but also our cultural treasury. Our poetry and literature teems with such species-rich, open and inviting landscapes, which are now on the point of disappearing. What many people today think are undisturbed primeval woods have often been used for coppicing, charcoal making and tar burning. Our woods and other natural habitats are most often cultured land, not wilderness. In this pamphlet we introduce the nature reserve Göräln and some of the natural riches shaped by human activity. In the pamphlet we also describe the measures taken by the Järfälla council to restore and preserve these riches both for future generations of Järfälla residents and for others. 

Gåseborg is thought to date from between 500 and 1100 CE. Presumably its purpose was to control the important waterway at its foot, which links Stockholm and the Baltic coast to Sigtuna, Uppsala and communities around the shores of Mälaren. 

Tar was made by heating pine wood. The tar dripped off, leaving charcoal behind. It was used as a water-repellent coating and was formerly one of Sweden's principal exports. 

Some July photos taken within the Görväln reserve:

Beside Lake Mälaren, just south of Kallhällsbadet

Walking through the "inland"

A field in the "inland"

The café at Bruket

Unripe sloes

The bathing place at Baset

The horizon in these Mälaren views is occupied by nearby islands, so you can only guess at the lake's vast extent.  

Christmas singalongs

The last couple of nights in breaks from the Xmas decs I did some recordings, all of songs from 1968-72 vintage. Not edited or anything but here they are:

CELLULOID HEROES

michaelpeverett · Celluloid Heroes Unedited.MP3

by Ray Davies.

ALWAYS ON MY MIND

michaelpeverett · Always On My Mind Unedited.MP3

Mostly by Wayne Carson, with assistance from Johnny Christopher and Mark James. 

THE WEIGHT

michaelpeverett · The Weight Unedited.MP3

by Robbie Robertson. (Levon Helm said that other Band members contributed substantially.)

Skrabbkaka

There's nothing remotely Nordic about this snap of my Christmas preparations, but it gives me an excuse to mention an obscure Swedish word I learnt recently: skrabbkaka. It means the little runty thing that you make with the leftover dough when there's not enough left for a full unit of whatever it is you're baking. 

It's invariably eaten by any child who lingers in the vicinity. Or else the cook eats it. My own gluten-free skrabbkaka was plain to the point of insipidity, but I appreciated it nonetheless. (I should've added some mincemeat.)

The same doesn't apply to the skrabbkaka in its usual Swedish context, the baking of pepparkakor (the biscuits marketed over here as "ginger thins"). Then the leftover is just as spicily delicious as the other biscuits, only smaller.  

The word skrabb means "scrape". As in a scraped-together artefact, I suppose. 

The word kaka is cognate with "cake", but in Sweden it's apt to mean what we call "biscuit".  An elaborate cake with a layer of filling and icing tends to be called a tårta. Not always, though. For instance Swedes also make a spiced cake, rather like ginger cake, which they call mjuk pepparkaka (i.e. "soft peppercake"). I haven't researched this, but I imagine Swedish kaka corresponds to German Kuchen (e.g. Lebkuchen) and that the German word also lies behind the American cookie. 

The brown bee

This emerged recently, in a card I made for my mum over 50 years ago. At first we supposed it was my own composition, and I'm sorry I have to give up any claim on it. It turns out to be the first verse of "The Happy World" by William Brighty Rands (1823-1882), the "Laureate of the Nursery". He was the son of a Chelsea candlemaker, and from 1857-1875 a parliamentary reporter, like Charles Dickens before him (and David Copperfield). (Rands also wrote copious literary criticism and a two-volume Chaucer's England.)

Here's the whole poem:

The Happy World

                 The bee is a rover;
                        The brown bee is gay;
                 To feed on the clover,
                        He passes this way.
                 Brown bee, humming over,
                       What is it you say?
    "The world is so happy—so happy to-day!"

                 The martens have nested
                        All under the eaves;
                 The field-mice have jested
                        And played in the sheaves;
                 We have played, too, and rested,
                        And none of us grieves,
    All over the wide world, who is it that grieves?

(Found in Pinafore Palace, an anthology of verse for children compiled by Kate Douglas Wiggin and Nora Archibald Smith, New York, 1907).

Probably my mum and I chose the poem together. She certainly played a large part in inspiring my chief work from that era, the reference book Birds (Age 6.4, I wrote on the title page) 

*

I pick up this thread of my literary remains in a teenage diary (aged about 14):

....................and when we get

    old, we'll travel to the

edge of the world

  (recalling young days)

       and stumble

          and tumble

     We're falling

     We're falling

          Floating . . ....

       Hjortron berries are

found in swamps and

marshes around lakes

and fishing backwaters

of the world, more

particularly Sweden.

They are the colour

of Autumn leaves, old foxes,

yellowish, russet but

gooseberry succulent, fustian

saffron, mottled, truffle-like,

in their treasured

scarcity, maple-syrupy.

Or perhaps they are none

of these. They are gold,

pale Swedish Gold, and

sometimes it reminds me of

you ....................

  Imagine lying in the 

Argentinian pampas, dry

and swaying and you

see the chinky secrets

between the blades and glades.....

  Imagine the northern

seas blowing and 

blustering at the

whaling ships proud

sails ............

  Imagine the heat of 

a gipsy fire, flaring

and flickering the women's

skirts .......

  Imagine -- no don't

imagine anything at 

all; it would restrict the

ideas if I specialised

-- such a clinical word,

I wish I hadn't used it

And what inspires me

to these lofty Årean 

heights?

  Don't blame me for

them. Blame Härjedalen,

or the girl who's

character is impressing

itself on every page of

this. Perhaps .........well,

I am only the journalist

of my emotions, aren't

I? 

*

Yup. Thereafter I stuck pretty exclusively to the topics of yearning and girls for the next decade at least. (Not sure if I've ever moved on, really.) 

Remember foolscap, that elongated paper size that was so dispiriting when you had to write school essays on it? I must have used a leftover piece for this concept album:

I must have been about 22 by then, and a postgrad.  

It wasn't until my late twenties that I started to write poems for any audience but myself. Here are five from the earliest batch:

*

You cannot be sure if the sea speaks.

Its mood is imperative.

"Primrose Haven."

Coal at dawn, pearl suspense:

Drop your pretence.

You etch away at a slate:

Fly across the grain.

Fear absorbs me. Plastered cliffs

Iron out those ready skiffs.

The waves close upon a vowel;

No cornflakes in this chopping bowl.

Vocabulary opaque, crow into silence.

*

Mist.

Make out the point on the deck

Where several streams meet.

It must be the early eighties again --

Oh flowery fell,

Blooms stuck in moss but that was fantasy.

The moss that grew upon that stone

Was parched and brittle.

My sister emptied a cup of water --

It sloped off, leaving a little to drink.

Pine needles dropped between my toes:

The clatter of double dragonflies

Rose out of the reeds.

Still that sun browsed above the trees,

Bringing the blueberry-pickers to their knees.

*

Coiled then unwound

Step all round this holy place

Passion, parturition,

The angels of this land.

Look skywards, fly your kite in space

Around the heavens, apply a glaze

To anywhere but the vase's base!

The clouds begin to drift apart

In sheltered spots, the orange light

Suggests imaginary warmth.

Those orange jellies on the gorse

Are something from my childhood.

Once they lived inside a wood

But now served cold, an aftercourse.

In the windiest January

I have come to a place without wind

Where small conifers in sombre shades

Are alight all round the edge with garden haloes.

*

Canterbury

Where all its spires and supermarkets yearn

& all its roads reach out, a carnival floats

& billows like a fleet of fishing boats

Asleep upon a sea of breath. Return;

Bell Harry's calm does not afflict these crowds.

Then the light fades & in the bookshop's back

Are girls dressed unassessably in black,

Post-Gothic, hair undyed, combed into clouds.

Their military silence seems like wit.

One of them loiters, pleasing, scornful-eyed,

To view an etching of the square outside:

The same, except the rooms are candle-lit.

In all its hatching winter is implied,

& evening -- like this evening -- dampens it. 

*

Burning flower

Waits for dawn

Radiance

The way you dance

Your legs, your absence

The Dæmon-Lover / The Poems of William Laidlaw

The Demon Lover: Engraving by Jane Lydbury

Taken from a miniature Folio Society book from 1994, Sir Patrick Spens and other ballads, probably intended as a free gift for members. The book contains four border ballads, with engravings by Jane Lydbury. 

One was "The Demon Lover", basically in the same form as published in the fifth edition (1812) of Scott's Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border (Vol 2, pp. 427-432). The Folio Society text has some minor spelling differences and improvements  (I like "won" (=inhabit) for "win" in Stanza 15). But here I'm quoting the 1812 text. 

THE DÆMON-LOVER.

"O where have you been, my long, long love,

    "This long seven years and mair?"

"O I'm come to seek my former vows

    "Ye granted me before."

"O hold your tongue of your former vows,

    "For they will breed sad strife;

"O hold your tongue of your former vows,

    "For I am become a wife."

He turned him right and round about,

    And the tear blinded his e'e;

"I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground,

    "If it had not been for thee.

"I might hae had a king's daughter,

    "Far, far beyond the sea;

"I might have had a king's daughter,

   "Had it not been for love o' thee."

"If ye might have had a king's daughter,

    "Yer sel ye had to blame;

"Ye might have taken the king's daughter,

   "For ye kend that I was nane."

"O faulse are the vows of womankind,

    "But fair is their faulse bodie;

"I never wad hae trodden on Irish ground,

    "Had it not been for love o' thee."

"If I was to leave my husband dear,

    "And my two babes also,

"O what have you to take me to,

    "If with you I should go?"

"I hae seven ships upon the sea,

    "The eighth brought me to land;

"With four-and-twenty bold mariners,

    "And music on every hand."

She has taken up her two little babes,

    Kiss'd them baith cheek and chin;

"O fair ye weel, my ain two babes,

    "For I'll never see you again."

She set her foot upon the ship,

    No mariners could she behold;

But the sails were o' the taffetie,

    And the masts o' the beaten gold.

She had not sail'd a league, a league,

    A league but barely three,

When dismal grew his countenance,

    And drumlie grew his e'e.

The masts, that were like the beaten gold,

    Bent not on the heaving seas;

But the sails, that were o' the taffetie,

    Fill'd not in the east land breeze.

They had not sail'd a league, a league,

    A league but barely three,

Until she espied his cloven foot,

    And she wept right bitterlie.

"O hold your tongue of your weeping," says he,

    "Of your weeping now let me be;

"I will shew you how the lilies grow

    "On the banks of Italy."

"O what hills are yon, yon pleasant hills,
    "That the sun shines sweetly on?"
"O yon are the hills of heaven," he said,
    "Where you will never win."

"O whaten a mountain is yon," she said,
    "All so dreary wi' frost and snow?'
"O yon is the mountain of hell," he cried,
    "Where you and I will go."

And aye when she turn'd her round about,

    Aye taller he seem'd for to be;

Until that the tops o' that gallant ship

    Nae taller were than he.

The clouds grew dark, and the wind grew loud,

     And the levin filled her e'e;

And waesome wail'd the snow-white sprites

    Upon the gurlie sea.

He strack the tap-mast wi' his hand,
   The fore-mast wi' his knee;
And he brake that gallant ship in twain,
   And sank her in the sea.

  *

The lover may be a demon, but he also acts quite convincingly as a certain kind of man: seeking to guilt his love into complying with his desires, and then punishing her when she does. But does he punish her for having married, or for breaking her marriage vows, or maybe because she humiliates him? Or maybe because she's a credulous fool, which can be the worst offence of all to one who credits nothing. 

Or, maybe he believed, too? For in that opening, the pair do seem very much in love. And when on the boat he turns "drumlie" it's perhaps with a disappointment like hers, his lilies on the banks of Italy a desperate last promise, his comment about hell "Where you and I will go" referring not to her crime (whichever it may be) but to their failing relationship.

All these possibilities exist within the stark impersonality of the ballad, but the thoughts come second. What's first apprehended is the ballad as it is, needing no commentary, obvious yet inexplicable.  

Scott's headnote says: 

This ballad, which contains some verses of merit, was taken down from recitation by Mr William Laidlaw, tenant in Traquair-know. It contains a legend, which, in various shapes, is current in Scotland. I remember to have heard a ballad, in which a fiend is introduced paying his addresses to a beautiful maiden; but disconcerted by the holy herbs which she wore in her bosom, makes the following lines the burden of his courtship:

Gin ye wish to be layman mine,

Lay aside the St Johns wort and the vervain. 

The heroine of the following tale was unfortunately without any similar protection.

This ballad, under various names and forms, is Child 243. The oldest printed version, perhaps c. 1693-1695, is a broadside ballad in the Pepys collection, "A Warning for Married Women" (EBBA 33773): there the lady is Jane Reynolds of Plymouth, who plighted her troth to a sailor (James Harris) before marrying a carpenter. She has three children, but is tempted away by the revenant spirit-lover.  After the lady leaves "the English shore" and "was never seen no more", the rest of the broadside ballad is concerned with the carpenter's lamentation and suicide.

The lover boasts that he might have married a king's daughter, and that his ship has sails of finest silk and a mast of shining gold: apart from the general situation, those are about the only details that also show up in the border ballad collected by Laidlaw. 

Laidlaw wrote to Scott about hearing the ballad on 3rd January, 1803 (the letter is quoted by Child). It was recited to him by Walter Grieve. "I remember but very few verses", he says. He quoted the first half of Stanza 4 (with differences), then added "The description of her setting her child on the nurse's knee and bidding him farewell is waesome, but I have forgot it" (cf. St. 9), then quoted a substantially different Stanza 10, then Stanza 11, Stanza 13, a somewhat different Stanza 14, and Stanza 15. 

Child knew from a note in Chambers' Life of Scott (1871) that Laidlaw himself had definitely composed Stanzas 6, 12, 17 and 18 (which, accordingly, he and many other editors omit). I should think Laidlaw (and/or Scott) may have composed more than that, though there's seemingly independent testimony for e.g. the opening two stanzas, the missing mariners of St 10 and the topmast of St 19. 

In the Mintrelsy ballad the lady's "husband dear" has no part to play (nor does the nurse mentioned in Laidlaw's letter). The effect is transformative, turning the ballad into an intense two-hander.

However it was put together, I find this 1812 version of "The Dæmon-Lover" a very satisfactorily complete poem; ample but not overfreighted or overstated; a ballad for reading that still feels like it might be sung. (Is it just me, or is there a trace of The Rime of the Ancient Mariner about it?)

*

William Laidlaw was the son of a farmer and a farmer himself. With James Hogg he helped Scott collect materials for the Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border.  In 1817, after a couple of farming projects failed, he became Scott's steward at Abbotsford. He was also one of the amanuenses when Scott was ill, writing out much of The Bride of Lammermoor,  A Legend of Montrose, and Ivanhoe. 

Biographical note on William Laidlaw (1780 - 1845):

https://electricscotland.com/history/nation/laidlaw.htm

Laidlaw was not an out-and-out poet like James Hogg, who had been his father's shepherd, but the above note does mention three of his poems. 

The best known is "Lucy's Flittin'", published by Hogg in 1810. As I've got this far down the road, I might as well paste together a complete edition of The Poems of William Laidlaw. 

Lucy's Flittin'.

1   'TWAS when the wan leaf frae the birk tree was fa'in,

     And Martinmas dowie had wound up the year,

     That Lucy row'd up her wee kist wi' her a' in't,

     And left her auld maister and neebours sae dear:

     For Lucy had served in the glen a' the simmer;

     She cam' there afore the flower bloomed on the pea;

     An orphan was she, and they had been kind till her,

     Sure that was the thing brocht the tear to her e'e.

2   She gaed by the stable where Jamie was stannin';

     Richt sair was his kind heart the flittin' to see;

     "Fare ye weel, Lucy!" quo' Jamie, and ran in,

     'The gatherin' tears trickling fast frae his e'e.

     As down the burn-side she gaed slow wi' the flittin',

     "Fare ye weel, Lucy!" was ilka bird's sang;

     She heard the craw sayin't, high on the tree sittin',

     And robin was chirpin't the brown leaves amang.

3   "Oh, what is't that puts my puir heart in a flutter?

     And what gars the tears come sae fast to my e'e?

     If I wasna ettled to be ony better,

     Then what gars me wish ony better to be?

     I'm just like a lammie that loses its mither;

     Nae mither or friend the puir lammie can see;

     I fear I hae tint my puir heart a'thegither,

     Nae wonder the tears fa' sae fast frae my e'e.

4   "Wi' the rest o' my claes I hae rowed up the ribbon,

     The bonnie blue ribbon that Jamie gae me;

     Yestreen, when he ga'e me't, and saw I was sabbin',

     I'll never forget the wae blink o' his e'e.

     Though now he said naething but 'Fare ye weel, Lucy!'

     It made me I neither could speak, hear, nor see;

     He could say nae mair but just 'Fare ye weel, Lucy!'

     Yet that I will mind till the day that I dee."

5   The lamb likes the gowan wi' dew when its droukit,

     The hare likes the brake and the braird on the lea;

     But Lucy likes Jamie - she turn'd and she lookit,

     She thocht the dear place she wad never mair see.

     Ah, weel may young Jamie gang dowie and cheerless!

     And weel may he greet on the bank o' the burn!

     For bonnie sweet Lucy, sae gentle and peerless,

     Lies cauld in her grave, and will never return!

[Poem source.]

Her bonnie black e'e.

On the banks o' the burn while I pensively wander,

⁠The mavis sings sweetly, unheeded by me;

I think on my lassie, her gentle mild nature,

⁠I think on the smile o' her bonnie black e'e.

When heavy the rain fa's, and loud loud the win' blaws,

⁠An' simmer's gay cleedin' drives fast frae the tree;

I heedna the win' nor the rain when I think on

⁠The kind lovely smile o' my lassie's black e'e.

When swift as the hawk, in the stormy November,

⁠The cauld norlan' win' ca's the drift owre the lea;

Though bidin' its blast on the side o' the mountain,

⁠I think on the smile o' her bonnie black e'e.

When braw at a weddin' I see the fine lasses,

⁠Tho' a' neat an' bonnie, they're naething to me;

I sigh an' sit dowie, regardless what passes,

⁠When I miss the smile o' her bonnie black e'e.

When thin twinklin' sternies announce the grey gloamin',

⁠When a' round the ingle's sae cheerie to see;

Then music delightfu', saft on the heart stealin',

⁠Minds me o' the smile o' her bonnie black e'e.

When jokin', an' laughin', the lave they are merry,

⁠Tho' absent me heart like the lave I maun be;

Sometimes I laugh wi' them, but oft I turn dowie,

⁠An' think on the smile o' my lassie's black e'e.

Her lovely fair form frae my mind's awa' never,

⁠She's dearer than a' this hale warld to me;

An' this is my wish, May I leave it, if ever

⁠She row on another her love-beaming e'e.

[Poem source.]

Alake for the Lassie.

Alake for the lassie! she's no right at a',

That lo'es a dear laddie, an' he far awa';

But the lassie has muckle mair cause to complain,

That lo'es a dear lad, when she's no lo'ed again.

The fair was just comin', my heart it grew fain

To see my dear laddie, to see him again;

My heart it grew fain, an' lap light at the thought

Of milkin' the ewes my dear Jamie wad bught.

The bonnie grey morn scarce had open'd her e'e,

When we set to the gate a' wi' nae little glee;

I was blythe, but my mind oft misga'e me right sair,

For I hadna seen Jamie for five months an' mair.

I' the hirin' right soon my dear Jamie I saw,

I saw nae ane like him, sae bonnie an' braw;

I watch'd an' baid near him, his motion to see,

In hopes aye to catch a kind glance o' his e'e.

He never wad see me in ony ae place:

At length I gaed up an' just smiled in his face,

I wonder aye yet my heart brackna in twa,—

He just said, "How are ye?" and steppit awa'.

My neeber lads strave to entice me awa';

They roos'd me, an' hecht me ilk thing that was braw;

But I hatit them a', an' I hatit the fair,

For Jamie's behaviour had wounded me sair.

His heart was sae leal, and his manners sae kind!

He's someway gane wrang, he may alter his mind;

An' sud he do sae, he's be welcome to me;

I'm sure I can never like ony but he.

[Poem source.]

William Laidlaw (1780-1845), artist and date unknown.

[Image Source: https://www.nationalgalleries.org/art-and-artists/6757 . In the Scottish National Gallery of Modern Art. Copyright: Creative Commons.]

Sir Walter Scott's novels: a brief guide

Mammals of Jämtland / Jämtlands däggdjur / Norway Lemming / Fjällämmel

I'm dashing off a post in Starbucks while waiting to see if my pal Luke shows up (nb he didn't). I've been reading Kai Curry-Lindahl's book of animals in Sweden, The Animals in Colour / Djuren i färg (1955, 4th edn 1965). [Kai Curry-Lindahl (1917 - 1990), born in Stockholm, was a zoologist, conservationist, and for the last thirty years of his life an adviser to UN agencies based in Nairobi, with stints as a visiting professor to universities in the USA and Canada.]

As you'd expect many of the mammal species are limited to the southern half of Sweden, a similar situation as with plant species. Anyway to pass the time here's a list of the mammals that occur in Jämtland (a historic inland county, partly mountainous, in northern Sweden). (My "home" county, emotionally; it was where for many years my mum and dad had a summer cottage.) The distribution info is taken from the book, and is therefore a snapshot from the mid 20th century -- but I've given some updates in square brackets. 

Common Shrew (Vanlig näbbmus), Sorex araneus.

Eurasian Pygmy Shrew (Dvärgnäbbmus), Sorex minutus. 

Laxmann's Shrew (Lappnäbbmus), Sorex caecutiens (discovered in 1941) is in the far north, not Jämtland.

Eurasian Water Shrew (Vattennäbbmus), Neomys fodiens. 

Hedgehog (Igelkott), Erinaceus europaeus.   Jämtland is just outside its normal range, but it has been introduced in a few places. 

Whiskered Bat (Mustaschfladdermus), Myotis mystacinus. Common.

Daubenton's Bat (Vattenfladdermus), Myotis daubentonii. Reaches Jämtland, just. 

Brown Long-eared Bat (Långörad fladdermus), Plecotus auritus. Just reaches Härjedalen, the county just S. of Jämtland (and now in the same administrative county).

Northern Bat (Nordisk fladdermus), Eptesicus nilssonii. Common.

Mountain Hare (Skogshare), Lepus timidus. 

Red Squirrel (Ekorre), Sciurus vulgaris.

Beaver (Bäver), Castor fiber. The last native Swedish beaver was shot in Jämtland in 1871. In 1922 the species was reintroduced and quickly recolonized much of Sweden. A beaver dam at a nearby lake was one of the spots we visited annually. 

Northern Birch Mouse (Buskmus), Sicista betulina.

Black Rat (Svart råtta aka Takråtta), Rattus rattus. Now only fugitive in Sweden (ship escapes). Formerly common across much of the country in human habitats. 

Brown Rat (Brun råtta), Rattus norvegicus. Now in most towns and cities, except for some isolated ones e.g. in inland Lappland. (Despite the Latin name, it did not originate in Norway, but probably in C. Asia. The name arose from a belief, apparently false, that the rat came to Britain on ships from Norway; actually, it seems to have arrived in Britain before Norway.)

House Mouse (Husmus), Mus musculus. In human dwellings throughout Sweden.

Wood Mouse (Mindre skogsmus), Apodemus sylvaticus. Reaches Jämtland.

Yellow-necked Mouse (Större skogsmus aka Halsbandsmus), Apodemus flavicollis. Goes further north than Wood Mouse. In winter comes into houses and can be more numerous than House Mouse. 

Wood Lemming (Skogslämmel), Myopus schisticolor. A spruce forest species whose centre is southern Norrland. 

Norway Lemming (Fjällämmel), Lemmus lemmus. Across the whole Scandinavian fell region. [See below for a full translation of Curry-Lindahl's account.]

Bank Vole (Skogssork), Clethrionomys glareolus.

Northern Red-backed Vole (Rödsork), Clethrionomys rutilus, is a rare species of the far north. Not in Jämtland.

Grey Red-backed Vole (Gråsidig sork), Clethrionomys rufocanus. Characteristic Norrland species. 

European Water Vole (Vattensork), Arvicola terrestris.

Field Vole (Åkersork), Microtus agrestis. The commonest vole species in Sweden as a whole. There was a lot of vole activity in our cottage garden, but I don't know which species. 

Tundra Vole (Mellansork), Microtus oeconomus. A far northern species, but recorded in a few places further south, incl. some fell regions in Jämtland.

Muskrat (Bisamråtta), Ondatra zibethicus. N. American species illegally introduced in two places in Torneälven in the far north in 1944, and has spread, but not as far down as Jämtland at the time of the book.

Coypu (Sumpbäver), Myocastor coypus. S. American species recorded in various parts of Sweden; it may have reached Jämtland since this book. 

Wolf (Varg), Canis lupus. Sporadic in fell region as far south as Härjedalen. [It has probably spread quite a lot more since the book.]

Red Fox (Räv), Vulpes vulpes.

Arctic Fox (Fjällräv), Alopex lagopus [now renamed Vulpes lagopus]. As far down as Härjedalen in the fell region, but generally rare. [The species is outcompeted by the Red Fox except in "lemming years", which are now becoming less frequent, so Nils Christian Stenseth predicts its decline (according to the article linked below).]

Brown Bear (Björn or Brunbjörn), Ursus arctos. Throughout northern Sweden. [Has become more common since the book. Strömsund region in Jämtland is now thought to have the highest population of bears in Sweden.] 

European Pine Marten (Mård), Martes martes. Throughout Sweden but generally rare.

Stoat (Hermelin), Mustela erminea. 

Common Least Weasel (Småvessla), Mustela nivalis nivalis.   

Dwarf Weasel (Dvärgvessla), Mustela nivalis minuta . Recorded in various surrounding counties but not Jämtland at the time of the book.

Mink (Mink), Mustela vison. N. American species, introduced and now over much of Sweden.

Badger (Grävling), Meles meles. Its northern limit runs across Jämtland. 

Wolverine (Järv), Gulo gulo. Rare in fell regions.

Otter (Utter), Lutra lutra. 

Lynx (Lo), Lynx lynx. Once more widespread across Sweden, but Jämtland is one of the counties where it is still established.

Roe Deer (Rådjur), Capreolus capreolus. Spread widely through Norrland in recent years, including Jämtland.

Red Deer (Kronhjort), Cervus elaphus. Formerly more widespread, only established in Skåne in recent time, but scattered observations elsewhere, including Härjedalen in 1955.

Elk, Moose (Älg), Alces alces. Throughout Sweden. We'd come across them in the forest now and then.

Reindeer (Ren), Rangifer tarandus. There are no truly wild reindeer in Sweden any more (one of the last places was Härjedalen). Semi-domesticated free-roaming reindeer are common in the fells in summer, and in the woods in winter. 

Musk Ox (Myskoxe), Ovibos moschatus. Successful introduction in 1948 in Norway (Dovre) -- two earlier attempts in Sweden had failed. There were already reported sightings in the Swedish fells by 1955. [They are established in Härjedalen now (west of Tännäs).  Recently seen in Svenstavik in Jämtland.]

*

NORWAY LEMMING

There are many other accounts of this extraordinary species, but Curry-Lindahl's still seemed worth translating. I've broken it up into more paragraphs. I found his expression difficult and I've rehandled it quite a lot, but hopefully I haven't missed the point too often. 

NORWAY LEMMING [FJÄLLÄMMEL (=Fell Lemming)], Lemmus lemmus. 

A rustbrown, black and beige rodent with in an irascible temper in certain years; it may place itself in the fell-wanderer's path, hissing, simmering and trembling with rage if the animal finds retreat to its hole cut off.  

The Norway Lemming occurs along the whole Swedish mountain chain from Fulufjäll in Dalarna to the most northerly part of Lappland. Its appearances are very periodic. In some years the species can occur in extraordinary numbers in all mountain vegetation zones right down to the conifer forest, while in the intervening periods it can seem to have completely vanished. Up to and including 1942 Sweden's lemmings had a more or less pronounced 4-year cycle with regular and clearly noticeable frequency peaks roughly every fourth year, the so-called lemming years. The years 1945 and 1950 were partial lemming years, that is to say a certain increase in frequency (though no more so than other rodents) could be observed in the mountain regions of Härjedalen and Jämtland, while Lappland saw no peak after 1942 until 1960-61. 

The lemming's mass occurrences may briefly be explained thus: several successive years with conditions favourable for lemmings (climate, food), can lead to a sharp increase in the population, at an ever-increasing rate, and reproduction in some years occurs also in winter, probably right through the winter. It is this last-named circumstance that causes what seems a sudden mass occurrence, when the snow begins to melt in the spring. 

The mass migrations have been explained as caused by disease, psychosis, overpopulation or food scarcity. But what is certain is that the mountain heaths are able to supply enough food for the lemming population even at its peak, and the migrating lemmings have not been so disease-ridden as to prevent them establishing themselves and reproducing in new mountain locations. But it is a fact that many lemmings come to grief during the dispersals, which set off to every point of the compass: up to glaciers, down to lakes and rivers and woods, and sometimes, especially in Norway, even down to the sea. Many individuals resist being borne away and stay in their original location. However epidemics and pathological disturbances do occur and rapidly decimate the population, which besides is heavily preyed on by many animals. 

Lemmings inhabit all mountain zones, right up to the lichen zone, which is in fact its principal haunt and remains so in poor years as well as in good years. They have an impressive appetite and produce enormous quantities of excreta, which one sees traces of everywhere. They are most active at night. In winter they seek dry places in (especially) the willow and lichen zones, where they make extensive tunnel systems along the ground beneath the snow-cover, and where too they build round habitations out of grass, which are sometimes fastened to willow bushes where they remain hanging after the snow melts away. In summer the lemmings seek damper places among sedge, dwarf willows and dwarf birch. These seasonal movements, which must not be confused with the mass migrations, occur both horizontally and vertically depending on local circumstances. The species finds summer protection in the ground's natural hollows, or makes corridors beneath the shrub cover. The nests, which sometimes have two chambers (possibly remnants of the same female's different broods) can be situated here, there and everywhere; just as often in ground vegetation as in hollows under stones or the like. The lemmings' food consists of practically all the vegetable nourishment the mountains can offer: grass, seeds, moss, flowers, leaves, stems, bark, roots, etc. Exceptionally the species also consumes dead animals, and in captivity one lemming was seen to kill and eat a common lizard. 

-- The Norway Lemming produces several sounds: squeaking, hissing and screeching. Reproduction commonly begins in April-May, when the female in an early spring may already have her first litter, but in certain years reproduction also takes place through the winter, with several litters. Gestation is 18 days. The number of young in a litter varies between 2 and 11 (13 embryos have been witnessed); commonly there are 6-8, and in winter litters most often 2-4. The number of litters in a season has been estimated as 4-5 in a good year. When winter litters are produced the number per year becomes even higher, and the interval between birthings may be as low as 23 days. The young can see after 10-12 days. They are independent at 15-20 days and sexually mature at 20-35 days, varying in different years depending on environmental factors. The Norway Lemming can approach three years in age. It is also known as Fell Mouse (fjällmus) and Fell Rat* (fjällråtta). 

* But in spoken Swedish of this era, the word råttor was often used to mean mice, or rodents in general.

*

"Lemming years" were first described by Olaus Magnus in 1555. He explained them as lemmings falling from the sky, like a biblical plague. 

Chris Smith interviewing Nils Christian Stenseth:

https://sciencenorway.no/agriculture--fisheries-biology-ecology/falling-lemming-populations/1374950

According to this article, the regular cycle ceased in the 1990s, probably due to climate change. A crucial factor is cold dry snow in winter, which used to be reliable. This kind of snow creates the insulating protective cover that allows winter reproduction. Now that the winter snow is often wet, lemming population explosions have become less frequent and more irregular. (But as we've seen Curry-Lindahl already observed that the cycle was becoming less regular by the mid 1940s.)

This is useful too: 

https://animaldiversity.org/accounts/Lemmus_lemmus/

The change to winter snow structure is also a threat to reindeer in Finnmark, as described by Ben Rawlence here: https://www.theguardian.com/news/2022/jan/20/norway-arctic-circle-trees-sami-reindeer-global-heating . 

Until 2005, the average winter temperature in the region was -15C and it would reliably sink below -40C at least once during the winter, eliminating even the hardiest of all insect larvae, a process that kept the Arctic pest-free in the summer.

This world of winter was dark and cold and dry. At those temperatures there was no moisture at all. The snowpack was the consistency of sand, made up of several layers of large snow crystals. At -40C or-50C in the middle of winter, the quality and nature of snow crystals is critical to the survival of humans and animals alike.

When the temperature climbs back up towards zero or, even worse, above it, this delicate winter ecosystem collapses. Even a little warming of the snow can create havoc. Moisture starts to appear in the snowpack at -5C or -6C, at which point it loses its sand-like quality, and the snow starts to compact under the reindeer’s hooves, ruining the grazing beneath. If the thermometer goes all the way into the positive, as it has done increasingly in recent years, it is a catastrophe. Melting snow or rain will freeze when the temperature goes negative again, forming a crust of ice over the ground, locking the vegetation away from the browsing reindeer. This happened in 2013 and again in 2017. Tens of thousands of reindeer died; some herders lost more than a third of their animals.

Rodent droppings, from Spårboken (Danish text by Preben Bang, illustrations by Preben Dahlström, Swedish translation by Håkan Hallander, 1974).

Left (from top to bottom): Muskrat, European Water Vole, Norway Lemming, Field Vole.

Right (from top to bottom): Brown Rat, Black Rat, House Mouse, Wood Mouse.

soil-wader

 MULLVAD, Talpa europa⁀e'a

I've been reading Kai Curry-Lindahl's Djuren i färg (Stockholm, 1955, 4th Edition 1965). (The Animals in Colour). 

The subtitle is Däggdjur -- Kräldjur -- Groddjur (Mammals -- Reptiles -- Amphibians)

The first entry is on the Mole. Here's the illustration:

European Mole and Common Shrew (illustrations by Karl Aage Tinggaard)

Amid much else the description says:

Hanarna kämpar med varandra, varvid den besegrade brukar bli uppäten.  (p. 76)

The males fight with each other, with the defeated usually being eaten. 

It seems possible; I've seen other reports that male moles ("boars") often fight to the death. And food is very important to moles: they have to eat a lot every day or they starve. Their preferred food is earthworms, but also insects )e.g. grubs), millipedes, snails, mice and shrews, in fact anything that appears in their tunnels. They hoard earthworms in a living state, with the burrowing heads bitten off. 

I've also read that moles avoid each other, understandably. Yet it seems that some underground passageways are communal. Don't meet in the passage!

Are there eyewitness accounts of mole fighting and cannibalism? Are these fights supposed to take place underground, or on the surface during their occasional forays out? So many questions. 

I'm not sure I've ever seen a living mole. I saw a dead one when I was a child, among the mole-heaps on the school playing fields. (Probably after poisonings by grounds staff.) Not a lot of contact in 63 years!

It makes me wish, momentarily, that I'd developed an interest in animals rather than plants. Well, it's not too late. 

*

Mullvad .... 

According to SAOB, the first element mull means soil or friable substance or humus. (In English the word "mull" is a humus type forming under cultivation or grass vegetation.) The Swedish word is often used in liturgical contexts (e.g. burials) and perhaps it's cognate with "mould" or "mold" (in the old-fashioned sense of earth). 

The second element vad is related to the verb vada, to wade. 

So the Swedish name is literally "soil-wader", which I think quite poetically evokes the mole's powerful burrowing with its forefeet. 

*

The alternative name mullvarp is literally "soil-thrower". In English literature this has a shadowy existence as the "Mouldwarp", a bad king predicted in the "Prophecy of Merlin" or "Prophecy of the Six Kings" (1312) and subsequently adopted as a political term of abuse against any king you don't like. 

Article by Martyn Hudson:
https://www.invisibleworks.co.uk/the-mouldwarp-king/

Strictly speaking, the prophecy said that the Mouldwarp would be the sixth king after John. Well, that takes us to Henry IV. In Shakespeare's Henry IV Part One Owen Glendower has evidently been going on about it:

MORTIMER

Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

HOTSPUR

I cannot choose: sometime he angers me

With telling me of the mouldwarp and the ant,

Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

And of a dragon and a finless fish,

A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,

A couching lion and a ramping cat,

And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff

As puts me from my faith.