The naval battle of Lepanto, fought off the western Greek coast on 7 October 1571, was hailed as a victory against the Ottoman empire as much artistic as political. It was sung in hendecasyllables by the greatest poets of the time (Góngora cut his poetic teeth on this subject at the age of ten with the ballad ‘Desbaratados los cuernos’, if indeed it is his). The most famous casualty was Cervantes, ‘el manco de Lepanto’, who lost his arm. We, though, might be more familiar with G.K. Chesterton’s stirring work of 1911.

The two fleets drawn up ready for battle in the Gulf of Lepanto. From A. Lafrerij,  L'Ordine tenuto dall' armata della Santa Lega Christiana contra il Turcho. (Rome, 1571).  Maps .C.7.e.2]

The commander of the Christian fleet, Don John of Austria, sported a magnificent galley adorned  with emblems and Latin mottoes such as a painting of a face-off between an elephant and a rhinoceros sharpening their ‘horns’ and the motto ‘in utrumque paratus’ [‘prepared for either side’, i.e. ‘death or victory’]’ (Cull, p. 163). Such decorative schemes for warships were not unique to Spain, as Cull notes.

The record of the appearance of the galley is patchy. There is no known picture. What we have is a written decorative scheme which was criticised and improved by Juan de Mal Lara, humanist of Seville. Mal Lara’s text was used in 1971 as the basis for the replica now displayed in the Museu Marítim, housed in the former shipyard of Barcelona.

The replica of Don John’s galley, Museu Marítim, Barcelona (Picture by David Merret from Wikimedia Commons CC BY 2.0)

Doyen of emblematics John Cull argues that the improving symbols and texts functioned as a mirror of princes, advice directed at Don John.  As Mal Lara said, ‘the galley itself should serve as a book of memory which, open at all hours, would instruct don Juan in all of its parts as to what he should do’ (Cull, p. 146).

But I wonder if the intended effect was in fact apotropaic, like the eyes which superstitious Mediterraneans still paint on their boats to ward off evil.  At a higher literary level, in the Roman de la Rose, the vices are depicted on the outer wall of the Garden of Love, to indicate that they have no place inside.

Thus where the ship’s decoration says ‘the prince should be prepared for either side’ it is in fact telling the enemy, ‘this prince is prepared for either side’. But of course by threatening the enemy the Spaniards were simultaneously psyching themselves up, like men who tattoo eight-letter messages on their knuckles.

On a practical level, the Turks at Lepanto may not have been great Latinists (though they used Latin in diplomacy), but this need not have inhibited the Spaniards. They knew the enemy would get the message.

Barry Taylor, Curator Hispanic Studies

References

Los poetas de Lepanto, ed.  J. López de Toro  (Madrid, 1950)  11869.bbb.5

John T. Cull, ‘“Han de ser casi biuas las ymagenes de estas cosas.” Juan de Mal-Lara’s Floating Emblem Book: Descripción de la Galera Real del Serenísimo Sr. Don Juan de Austria’, South Atlantic Review, 72: 1 (2007),  143-70.  PP.7617.wr

Rocío Carande Herrero,  Mal-Lara y Lepanto : los epigramas latinos de la galera real de don Juan de Austria (Seville, 1990) YA.1990.b.7057

Eulàlia Miralles and Pep Valsalobre, ‘From Lluís Joan Vileta to Joan Pujol: Latin and Vernacular Poetry on the Battle of Lepanto in Catalonia’, in Humanism and Christian Letters in Early Modern Iberia (1480-1630), ed. Barry Taylor and Alejandro Coroleu (Newcastle, 2010), pp. 173-72. YC.2010.a.14065

Dariusz Kolodziejczyk, Ottoman-Polish Diplomatic Relations (15th-18th Century): An Annotated Edition of 'Ahdnames and Other Documents (Leiden, 2000).  ZA.9.a.6407(18)

Around this time of year churches in Britain are celebrating Harvest Festival, and many congregations will no doubt sing the favourite seasonal hymn ‘We plough the fields and scatter’. But  not many of the singers may be aware that this seemingly integral part of a British – or at least an Anglican – Harvest Festival service is in fact a translation of a German hymn, ‘Wir pflügen und wir streuen’, with words taken from a poem by the 18th-century German poet Matthias Claudius.

The English translation first appeared in 1861 in a collection entitled A Garland of Songs: or an English Liederkranz compiled by Charles S. Bere, a Devon clergyman. Bere was apparently something of a Germanophile: in a preface he speaks admiringly of the role played by vocal music in German homes and communities and expresses the hope that his English collection of secular and religious songs will encourage a similar culture among his compatriots. The translator, modestly described as “a lady … who wishes to be nameless”,  was Jane Montgomery Campbell (1817-1878). Among her other contributions to the collection is a version of ‘Stille Nacht’ beginning ‘Holy Night, peaceful night’ (the more familiar – and frankly better – translation ‘Silent Night’ was made two years earlier by an American Episcopal priest, John Freeman Young).

Jane Montgomery Campbell’s translation of ‘Stille Nacht’ from A Garland of Songs.

German hymns had been making their way into English for a long time before Bere and Campbell collaborated on their Garland. The Latin-German macaronic carol ‘In dulci jubilo’ and Luther’s ‘Ein’ feste Burg’ appeared in English versions as early as the 16th century, and John Wesley made some translations from German in the 18th century. But the 19th century was the golden age of German-English hymn translation. For example, most of us know  ‘Ein’ feste Burg’ best in Thomas Carlye’s translation as ‘A safe stronghold’ (or in another 19th-century American translation as ‘A mighty fortress’), and most of the German hymn translations in the Church of England’s standard hymnal, Hymns Ancient and Modern, date from this period.

Perhaps the most active 19th-century translator and promoter of German hymns in  Britain was Catherine Winkworth (1827-1878). Winkworth really deserves a blog post to herself: she was not only a translator but also a social reformer and a pioneering advocate of women’s higher education, but here we must restrict ourselves to her collection of hymn translations, Lyra Germanica, which first appeared in  1855. Winkworth moved in intellectual Christian circles where contemporary German theology was much admired. The hymns in Lyra Germanica – over a hundred in all – were translated from a collection compiled by the ambassador and scholar Karl Josias von Bunsen (Winkworth’s sister Susanna also translated one of Bunsen’s prose works on theology). Winkworth followed up the success of her first series of translations with a second series and a study of German devotional lyrics, Christian Singers of Germany.

Binding from an 1868 luxury edition of Lyra Germanica (3434.f.19.), designed by John Leighton who was also one of the illustrators.

Although only a small percentage of the many hymns Winkworth translated are in general use today, those that are remain some of the most familiar and recognisable German hymns in Britain. The latest edition of Hymns Ancient and Modern (now simply called Ancient and Modern) includes six of her translations, perhaps the best known being no. 739 ‘Now thank we all our God’ (‘Nun danket alle Gott’) and no. 765, ‘Praise to the Lord’ (‘Lobe den Herrn’). Other German hymns in the collection include no. 9 ‘When morning gilds the skies’ (‘Beim frühen Morgenlicht’) translated by Edward Carswell and no. 181 ‘O sacred head surrounded’, Henry Williams Baker’s translation of Paul Gerhardt’s ‘O Haupt voll Blut und Wunden’. It is also worth noting that many of the tunes  in the book – for both German and other texts – are of German origin.

German hymns, then, are still sung in churches up and down the country, but it seems that they are waning somewhat in popularity. ‘Silent Night’ still holds its own in polls of favourite carols (although it has lost the top spot in recent years to a French rival, ‘O holy night’), but the only German entry in a recent BBC vote for ‘The UK’s top 100 hymns’ was ‘Now thank we all our God’, languishing at no. 65 in the chart. However, there is a German element within a wider European story behind the hymn which topped that poll, ‘How great thou art’. This is based on a Swedish original, and the most familiar English translation is by Stuart K. Hine, who discovered it when working as a Methodist missionary in the Carpathian Mountains in the 1930s. He translated it from a Russian version which was based in turn on an earlier German translation.

So whether at harvest time, Christmas or in the church year generally, an ‘English’ hymn may have an international story to tell. And if you are a churchgoer, you probably know more German hymns than you think.

Susan Reed, Lead Curator Germanic Studies

References/further reading:

A Garland of Songs: or an English Liederkranz, edited by the Rev. C. S. Bere. (London, 1861). A.745

Lyra Germanica: Hymns for the Sundays and Chief Festivals of the Christian Year, translated from the German by Catherine Winkworth. (London, 1855). 3436.f.27.

Catherine Winkworth, Christian Singers of Germany (London, 1869). 3605.bb.6.

Ancient and Modern: Hymns and Songs for Refreshing Worship. (London, 2013). D.845.t

Robert Maude Moorson, A Historical Companion to Hymns Ancient and Modern (London, 1885). 3436.g.55.

An Annotated Anthology of Hymns, edited with a commentary by J.R. Watson. (Oxford, 2002). YC.2002.a.10594.

Susan Drain, ‘Winkworth, Catherine (1827–1878)’, Oxford Dictionary of National Biography, Oxford University Press, 2004 [http://www.oxforddnb.com/view/article/29744]

 

In August this year we published a post to mark the 70th anniversary of the start of the Warsaw Uprising. Today, on the anniversary of its ending our guest blogger Andrzej Dietrich  looks back again at the events of 1944. (You can read the original Polish text of this post here)

The decision to start the uprising was made in a difficult political situation without taking into consideration the fighting power of the Home Army (known as AK). There was no consensus at AK Headquarters as to the launch of the uprising, its sense, chance of success and its possible date. Similarly, the Polish Government-in-Exile in London was divided in opinion over this matter. The AK  was poorly equipped. It had enough arms and anti-tank weapons for only three to five days. The Germans had 15,000 soldiers, including 3,000 Russians and Cossacks in the unit called RONA (Russkaia Osvoboditel’naia Narodnaia Armiia).  The German side also had at their disposal large amounts of weapons and ammunition, tanks and planes.

A number of turbulent meetings were held at AK Headquarters in the last week of July 1944. Colonel Janusz Bokszczanin, an opponent of the uprising, was in favour of waiting for events to unfold. The legendary ‘Courier from Warsaw’, Jan Nowak-Jeziorański, who recently arrived from London, conveyed Commander-in-Chief of the Polish Army Kazimierz Sosnkowski’s negative attitude towards a potential uprising as well the allies’ lack of ability to provide aid.  General Leopold Okulicki was sent from London to Poland in March 1944 with instructions from General Sosnkowski to block the launch of an uprising in Warsaw. However, he ignored the order and, instead, became the principal advocate of the uprising.  At some point, General Tadeusz Bór- Komorowski, the Chief Commander of the Home Army ( driven to despair, arranged for a vote [sic!]. This reflected his state of mind and lack of control over the situation:  you can vote in a parliament, but in an army you must carry out orders!

General Tadeusz Bór-Komorowski (image from photo below from Wikimedia Commons)

Finally, Komorowski gave in to pressure and on 31  July  made a decision for the uprising to start on 1 August , at 5pm, also called “W-hour”. 30,000 soldiers of the Home Army who were mobilised and placed in specific locations of the city were unarmed. They were supposed to be given arms before “W- hour”, but in reality only a small proportion of weapons reached the meeting points. As a result, at the crucial hour only 1,500 soldiers were fully armed. In the first days of struggle (i.e., up to 5  August ) the insurgents were successful to some extent owing to the Germans being taken by surprise. Later the Germans received reinforcements and a massacre started. The city was bombarded both by heavy artillery and planes. The Dirlewanger Brigade, made up largely of criminals, were known for their exceptional atrocities. They murdered 40,000 civilians in the Wola District of Warsaw, sparing not a single soul and burning the corpses.

Warsaw suffered shortages of food, water, medicine and first aid supplies. Hunger and disease were ubiquitous. One should honour the heroism of the soldiers and civilian population of the city, which systematically day by day was falling into ruin.

 

Ruins in central Warsaw after the Uprising, from André Lenoir, Varsovie 1944. (Geneva, 1944) YA.1989.b.5500

The tragic balance of the uprising:

18,000 soldiers and 200,000 civilians were killed. Material losses included 70% of the city’s buildings being destroyed, burnt archives, libraries, works of art and culture created by generations of Poles throughout the centuries. In addition, Poland lost a generation of intelligentsia with significant consequences for the country in the following decades. In contrast, the Germans lost 6,000 soldiers including many common criminals sent to suppress the uprising. General Władysław Anders, in a letter to General Marian Kukiel,  wrote:

 …a fighting Warsaw brought me to my knees, but I consider the uprising in Warsaw a crime. Thousands killed, the capital utterly destroyed, the enormous suffering of the whole civilian population, the fruit of hard work throughout the centuries annihilated…

In his diary Winston Churchill gently noted: “There are few virtues that the Poles do not possess and there are few errors they have ever avoided.”

After 63 days of futile and hopeless struggle General Bór-Komorowski signed an act of capitulation in the early hours of 3 October  1944.

The Monument of the Little Insurgent in Warsaw (picture by Cezary p from Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 4.0)

On 1 October, 1983 the Monument of the Little Insurgent was erected to let future generations know that children were also involved in the struggle. To commemorate the city’s fight, the Monument of the Warsaw Uprising was unveiled on August 1  1989 (picture below by DavidConFran from Wikimedia Commons CC BY-SA 3.0)

Both these monuments are, alas, memorials of shame to those whose tragic decisions led to the destruction of Warsaw.

Andrzej Dietrich

Translated by Magda Szkuta

Further reading

J.K. Zawodny, Nothing but honour: the story of the Warsaw Uprising (London, 1978) X.809/43121

Władysław Bartoszewski, Abandoned heroes of the Warsaw Uprising (Kraków, 2008) LD.31.b.1915