Winds and waves were in their favour, and the army landed at a short
distance from Constantinople. Whilst the men encamped in a wood, the
king set out in peasant’s clothes to pick up all the news he could
learn. After spending hours wandering about the city, and hearing
nothing that was of any use to him, he chanced to meet Ortwin, a
gaoler, and a former acquaintance of his. The man carried a basket
filled with black bread. The hero went to him and asked him to give him
a loaf for Wolfdieterich’s sake. The man looked at him keenly, and
recognised him.
“Ah, sire,” he said, “things have gone badly here with us. The good old
empress died during the siege of Lilienporte. When the fortress
capitulated, the noble duke Berchtung and his sons were put in irons
and flung into a dark and dismal dungeon. Death soon put an end to the
old man’s pain, but the ten young lords are still kept in strict
confinement, and I may bring them no better food than a daily supply of
this black bread and water.”
Wolfdieterich was miserable when he thought that he was not without
guilt with respect to his mother and his old friend. He could do
nothing for them now, but he might still do something for the ten
faithful servants who yet remained. He arranged with Ortwin that they
should have better food, and should be cheered by the hope of a speedy
deliverance. The old gaoler went on his way, and the king returned to
his people.
He found his men already under arms, for they told him that Sabene had
discovered not only that they were there, but what had brought them.
The armies met, and the battle raged long and furiously, without either
side getting the better of the other. But at last the fortune of the
day turned. The citizens of Constantinople rose in revolt against the
tyranny that had ground them down so long, hastened to the prison, and
set Berchtung’s ten brave sons at liberty. Having done this, they put
themselves under their command, and marched to the assistance of
Wolfdieterich. It was a glorious victory. The hero was proclaimed
emperor on the battle-field.
Soon after their return to the capital, Sabene and the royal brothers
were brought before their judges. The first was sentenced to death, and
was at once led away to instant execution; the death of the two latter
was likewise demanded by both people and army, and Wolfdieterich knew
that they were guilty of causing the death of their mother and that of
old Berchtung, and had brought upon him all the troubles and
difficulties of his early youth. Yet he could not decide what was best
to be done, and reserved judgment until the following day.
That night, as the victor slept the sleep of the just, his mother
appeared to him in a dream, saintlike and beautiful in aspect. She
said: “Spare my children, and my blessing shall rest on thee.”
And immediately Berchtung appeared at her side: “God has mercy upon His
erring children; do not shed thy brothers’ blood.”
As the hero gazed at the apparitions in intense amazement, Liebgart
joined them, and said gently: “Hast thou not gained kingdom, glory, and
me, through the ill deeds of thy brothers? Return them, therefore, good
for evil.”
Morning broke—the figures vanished, leaving Wolfdieterich resolved
what he should do. He called the nobles together, and before them all
pardoned Bogen and Waxmuth, restored them their dignities and lands, to
be held thenceforth as great fiefs under him. At first no one approved
of his clemency, but on hearing his explanation all were silenced.
As soon as his arrangements were completed, Wolfdieterich returned with
his army to Lombardy, and was welcomed by Liebgart with the greatest
joy. After resting there for awhile, he, his princes, and their
followers went to Rome, where he was crowned emperor. At the feast
which followed the coronation he appointed the ten sons of good Duke
Berchtung to be rulers of great fiefs. Herbrand, the eldest, received
Garden and its territory. Through his son Hildebrand, of whose valiant
deeds we shall hear later on, he was the ancestor of the Wülfings.
Hache was given Rhineland, with Breisach as his capital. His son
Eckehart was the protector of the Harlungs, Imbreke, and Fritele. He is
celebrated in song and story as the trusty Eckehart. Berchther, the
third son, succeeded his father at Meran. The other sons were as well
endowed, but not as famous as their brothers, so their names and
possessions need not be told.
Wolfdieterich and Liebgart had a son, whom they named Hugdieterich
after his grandfather. He grew up to be a mighty hero, and was the
father of a valiant race.
[Illustration: SAMSON CARRIES OFF FAIR HILDESWID.]
II.
KING SAMSON (SAMSING).
In the good old times a mighty yarl (earl) ruled over the rich town and
district of Salern, which was one of the largest fiefs of a great
kingdom. The yarl governed so strictly and justly that peace and plenty
cheered the hearts of all that dwelt in the district. He kept up a
large army to defend his coasts from the onslaught of the Vikings, who
often descended on them in great numbers in hopes of plunder.
Amongst the followers of the yarl was the warrior Samson, nicknamed
“The Black,” because of his coal-black hair and beard. He was always
the first in battle, and had even been known to disperse whole
battalions with his single arm. He was terrible to look upon. His dark
eyes flashed under heavy beetling brows. His bull-neck and powerful
limbs bore witness to his remarkable strength. No one could withstand
him in battle. He hewed men down, whether armed or unarmed, with as
great ease as if they were made of touchwood. In private life, on the
other hand, he was gentle and kindly, unless contradicted; then,
indeed, he would keep silence, but would none the less carry out his
own will, regardless of the cost to others. As can be readily imagined,
few people ventured to oppose him without reason.
One day the yarl, who had just been made king, was sitting at a feast
in celebration of a great victory. His warriors were round him sharing
in his joy, Samson in their midst. Suddenly he rose, and, taking a cup
of wine in his hand, offered it to the king, and said, with all
courtesy:
“Sire, many a victory have I helped to gain for you, and now I come to
offer you this cup and to ask you to grant me a boon.”
“Speak on, brave hero,” answered the king, “and tell me what you
desire. Hitherto you have asked no reward for your great deeds of
valour. What you already have was given of my good will, unasked by
you. So demand what you like, I can deny you nothing.”
“Good, my lord,” said Samson. “I do not want any more castles or lands,
I am rich enough; but I am very solitary at home, now that my mother
has grown old and cross. Your daughter Hildeswid is a sweet little
thing, and I should much like to make her my wife. Now you know how you
can pleasure me by granting this request.”
Rodgeier was so astonished at this address that he nearly let the cup
fall.
“You are a famous warrior,” he said; “but the maiden is of royal birth,
and only a king can lead her home. You are in her service as well as
mine. So take this plate of sweetmeats and bear it to her in the
women’s house. Then come back here, and drown all memory of your
strange request in a bowl of good wine.”
Samson took up the sweetmeats silently, and bore them to the princess,
who was busy embroidering with her maids. He placed the dish before
her, saying,—
“Eat, sweet one, for I bring you good news. You are to follow me to my
home, and live there as my good wife. Dress now, and bid one of your
maidens come with you.”