’Twas well the foes were sundered until the break of day;
On either side the foemen near each other lay,
Wounded to death or slaughtered. Fast the light was waning,
Not yet the moon was risen, and the Hegeling foe the field were
nowhere gaining.
[891]
The warriors grim, unwillingly, to the strife now put a stop;
The hands of all were weary ere they gave the struggle up:
But, when the fight was over, they near each other loitered.
Wherever fires were burning, for each the other’s shields and
helmets glittered.
[892]
Ludwig then and Hartmut, lords of the Norman land,
Talked aside together. Then to his faithful band
Spake the elder warrior: “Why be longer staying
So near the brave old Wâ-te, who all of us is madly bent on
slaying?”
[893]
The wily king then bade them: “Lie low, and be not seen,
With your heads upon your bucklers: you then must make a din;
And so the men of the Hegelings my plan will not be knowing,—
That, if I now can do it, I with you all may hence unseen be going.”
[894]
Ludwig’s men and kinsmen did as he had said:
They upon their sackbuts and trumpets loudly played,
As if they, by their prowess, the land had gained them wholly.
Ludwig now to his followers showed his crafty plot and cunning
fully.
[895]
Then were heard, on all sides, mingled shouts and cries;
But wailing from the maidens was not allowed to rise:
All who would not stop it were threatened death by drowning,—
To be sunk beneath the waters,— if they were sobbing heard, or
loudly moaning.
[896]
Whate’er was owned by the Normans now to the ships was ta’en;
The dead were there left lying, e’en where they were slain.
Friends were lost to many who, seeking, could not find them:
So few there were still living, that many an empty ship was left
behind them.
[897]
Thus unbeknown and slyly, sailed away o’er the main
The men of the land of Normandy; great was the women’s pain
From kinsfolk to be sundered, and yet to hush their weeping.
Of this the men knew nothing who now upon the Wulpensand were
sleeping.
[898]
Before the day was dawning, well were on their way
They whom the Danish warriors had thought that morn to slay.
Then Wâ-te bade that loudly his war-horn should be sounded;
He was in haste to follow, and hoped erelong to fell them, deeply
wounded.
[899]
On foot and on their horses, the men of the Hegeling land
All were seen together, flocking o’er the sand,
To fight the fleeing Normans; never in this they rested.
Ludwig with his followers already far upon their way had hasted.
[900]
Many ships lay empty, and clothing there was found;
All about the Wulpensand ’twas scattered o’er the ground;
Many weapons also were seen, with none to bear them.
They had overslept their going, and never to harm their foes could
they come near them.
[901]
When this was told to Wâ-te, with anger he was torn:
How for the death of Hettel he bitterly did mourn!
And that on Ludwig’s body his wrath he was not wreaking!
Helmets there lay shattered; for this must many a woman’s heart be
aching.
[902]
How gloomily and sadly now, in angry mood,
Ortwin was bewailing the loss of his warriors good!
He said: “Rouse up, my fighters! we may perhaps o’ertake them
Before they leave these waters; not far from shore we yet in flight
may check them.”
[903]
Willingly old Wâ-te would his bidding do:
Fru-te the winds was watching, to learn which way they blew.
Then said he to his kinsmen: “What helps it though we hasten?
Mark what now I tell you: the thirty miles they’ve gained we ne’er
can lessen.
[904]
“Moreover, we of fighters have not here enough
That we in aught can harm them, e’en should we now set off:
Scorn me not,” said Fru-te, “and to my words give heeding;
What more to say is needful? Your foes you cannot reach, howe’er
you’re speeding.
[905]
“Bid that now the wounded upon the ships be laid;
Then on the field of battle let search for the dead be made,
And bid that they be buried upon this strand forsaken,
So friends may rest together; this good at least from them should
not be taken.”
[906]
All, standing there together, wringing their hands were seen.
For this one sorrow only, would their lot have hapless been,—
To lose the youthful maiden, Hilda’s lovely daughter.
How, when they saw her mother, if home they went, could news so sad
be brought her?
[907]
Then to them said Morunc: “Would there were nothing more,
Beyond our own sad losses, for which our hearts are sore!
Small reward will be given for the news we home shall carry,
That Hettel dead is lying: far from Hilda fain would I longer
tarry.”
[908]
Then went the warriors searching for the dead upon the sand.
Those they knew were Christians who lay upon the strand,
As the Sturmisch Wâ-te bade them, were all together carried;
Then both the old and the younger chose a spot whereon the dead were
buried.
[909]
Then said the knight, young Ortwin: “Let us bury them here;
And thought must we be taking to build a church full near,
That they be not forgotten, while this their end is showing.
For it shall all their kinsmen give of their wealth, each one his
share bestowing.”
[910]
Then spake the Sturmisch Wâ-te: “In this thou well hast said;
We now should sell the horses and the clothing of the dead,
Who on the shore are lying; so, since their life is ended,
Shall many poor and needy, with the wealth they left, be holpen and
befriended.”
[911]
Then asked the warrior Irold, if foes who there lay dead
Should also now be buried, or if wolves should on them feed,
And hungry ravens tear them, that round their bodies hovered?
Then to the wise they listened; none of the dead were left on the
field uncovered.
[912]
When now the fight was over, and all were free from care,
Hettel, their king, they buried, who for his daughter dear,
Upon this barren seashore, e’en unto death had striven.
To others who had fallen, whate’er their land and name, was burial
given.
[913]
First, the men from Moorland each by himself they laid;
The same was done for the Hegelings found among the dead;
Unto the Normans, also, gave they graves allotted:
Alone was each one buried, if Christian he were or heathen, it
nothing booted.
[914]
Until six days were over, busy were they, at their best,
And never time were finding (for the warriors took no rest)
To ask for dead and dying the grace of God in heaven,
For sins of which they were guilty; that they for their misdeeds
should be forgiven.
[915]
Saying mass and singing were later heard on the strand.
Never was God so worshipped, in any other land,
For the dead in stormy fighting. Wherever men were lying
With their death-wounds smitten, holy priests they brought to shrive
the dying.
[916]
Many there did tarry to care for the churchly men.
A deed of gift was written, wherein it could be seen
How of land to the brothers three hundred hides was given.
Far and wide ’twas bruited, that well a godly house was builded, and
had thriven.
[917]
All who there were mourning the loss of friends and kin
Gave of their wealth a tithing, women as well as men,
For weal of the souls of any whose bodies there lay buried.
The cloister soon was wealthy, by the yield of three hundred hides,
through toil unwearied.
[918]
Now may God in his keeping have those who there lie dead,
And the holy men there dwelling. Those then homeward sped
Who still upon the Wulpensand were left among the living;
After all their sorrows, they reached their fatherland, no more in
warfare striving.
Tale the Nineteenth.
HOW THE HEGELINGS WENT HOME TO THEIR OWN LAND.
[919]
The kinsmen of King Hettel upon the sands had left
Many in death’s fast keeping; never knights bereft
Their homeward way had taken, hearts so sorry bringing.
Thereafter lovely women for this, with weeping eyes, their hands
were wringing.
[920]
Ortwin, the knight of Ortland, who to the fight had come,
After such shame and losses, back to fair Hilda’s home
Feared to bring these tidings, his mother dear to sadden.
She there was waiting daily, hoping her men would bring Gu-drun the
maiden.
[921]
Wâ-te, fearing sorely, rode to Hilda’s land;
The others dared not tell her of the loss on the Wulpensand.
Ill in the storm of fighting, his strength her men had warded;
Not lightly her forgiveness he hoped to gain, who thus her lord had
guarded.
[922]
When the word was spoken that Wâ-te near had come,
At once were men faint-hearted. Erewhiles when he came home,
Back from the war-field riding, it was with war-horns braying.
This he did at all times; but now they all were still, and nought
were saying.
[923]
“Woe’s me!” said Lady Hilda, “what sorrows must we fear?
The men of the aged Wâ-te shattered shields now bear;
Slowly step the horses, with armor heavy-loaded.
Some evil has befallen. Oh! say what harm to the king is now
forboded?”
[924]
When thus the queen had spoken, but little time had passed
Ere to the aged Wâ-te crowds came up in haste,
Who of friends and kinsfolk tidings now were seeking.
Soon a tale he told them with which the hearts of all were well-nigh
breaking.
[925]
Thus spake the Sturmisch Wâ-te: “Your loss I may not hide,
Nor falsehood will I tell you; all in the fight have died.”
The young and old together at this with fear were stricken.
Ne’er was a throng more wretched; no other woes could one to theirs
e’er liken.
[926]
“Alas! my bitter sorrow!” said King Hettel’s wife.
“From me my lord is sundered, who there laid down his life,
The great and mighty Hettel! My pride, how is it fallen!
Lost are child and husband! Gu-drun I ne’er shall see, from me
forever stolen.”
[927]
Then both knights and maidens with sharpest woe were torn;
Their sorrow knew no healing. Loudly the queen forlorn
Was heard, throughout the palace, for her husband mourning.
“Ah, wretched me,” cried Hilda, “that now to Hartmut’s side the luck
is turning!”
[928]
Then spake the brave old Wâ-te: “My lady, end your moan:
Home are they coming never, but when to men are grown
The youths within our kingdom, sad days will have an ending;
To Ludwig and to Hartmut the like we’ll do, our wrath upon them
spending.”
[929]
Then quoth the weeping lady: “Alas, that I must live!
Whatever I am owning I would most gladly give
Could e’er my wrongs be righted. If but this were granted,
That I, poor God-forsaken, might see Gu-drun again, naught else were
wanted.”
[930]
Old Wâ-te spake to Hilda: “Lady, weep no more.
’Tis best that we be sending, before twelve days are o’er,
To gather all your warriors, who will help you gladly
To plan a raid on the foeman; so with the Norman will it yet go
badly.”
[931]
He said: “My Lady Hilda, list to what befell:
Erewhile I took from pilgrims nine ships, and then set sail:
These should again be given to those we ill have treated;
That when new strifes we’re waging, a better luck to us may then be
meted.”
[932]
The weeping Hilda answered: “’Tis best that this be done;
Ever is it fitting that men for misdeeds atone.
To steal the goods of pilgrims is a sin not lightly shriven:
For every mark we’ve taken, to them three marks of silver shall be
given.”
[933]
The ships were brought to the pilgrims, as the queen did say;
Not one there was among them, when they sailed away,
Who left a curse behind him. For wrongs they found a healing;
And for Hilda, Hagen’s daughter, they harbored, when they left, no
bitter feeling.
[934]
Upon the morrow early, thither to come was seen
Herwic, the lord of Sealand; soon he found the queen
Weeping for her husband, who in death was lying.
She gave the knight a welcome, with hands she ever wrung, and deeply
sighing.
[935]
Seeing the lady weeping, then, too, to weep began
The young and lordly Herwic; soon spake that well-born man:
“Their lives not all have given, who help to you are owing,
And who would gladly grant it; though many by their death their love
were showing.
[936]
“My arm shall never falter, nor heart from care be free,
Till Hartmut feels my anger, who stole the maid from me,
And dared from home to tear her, death to many dealing:
Soon will I ride to his borders; then will I seize and hold his
lands and dwelling.”
[937]
His men, though filled with sorrow, rode towards the town,
Flocking to Matelan castle. The queen her hope made known
That, whatsoe’er might happen, their fealty would not weaken;
And, though the worst befell them, that she by them would never be
forsaken.
[938]
To her the men from Friesland and those from Sturmland went,
And from the Danish kingdom were warriors likewise sent;
The knights of Morunc also, from the land of Waleis riding,
Thither came with the Hegelings, to where the fair Queen Hilda was
abiding.
[939]
Forthwith there came from Ortland, Ortwin, Hilda’s son;
Then mourned they, as was fitting, his father dead and gone.
Soon were all the warriors aside with their ladies speaking,
And talking of the inroad the fighters strong one day would thence
be making.
[940]
Then said the aged Wâ-te: “This can never be
Till those who now are children fully-grown we see,
And worthy to be swordsmen. Then, their fathers mourning,
And of their kinsmen mindful, gladly will they with us to war be
turning.”
[941]
Queen Hilda then made answer: “To wait for this were long;
Meanwhile Gu-drun, my daughter, held by foemen strong,
Must in a far-off kingdom be kept in bondage bitter;
And I, poor queen and mother, shall know no bliss, and my heart will
ne’er grow lighter.”
[942]
Then said the Danish Fru-te: “The maid we cannot free
Until once more your kingdom shall full of warriors be.
Then, for the struggle ready, we hence shall ride, unfearing;
And so upon our foemen shall work the greatest ill with blows
unsparing.”
[943]
To this Queen Hilda answered: “That day may God soon give;
But I, unhappy woman, a weary life must live.
Whoe’er of me is mindful, and of Gu-drun, poor maiden,
Him will I trust most fully, knowing his heart for us with care is
laden.”
[944]
They now their leave were taking; to them the lady spake:
“May he be blest and happy who thought for me shall take.
’Tis right that you, brave warriors, to fight for me are ready;
Meanwhile for the coming inroad do all you can, and therein be you
speedy.”
[945]
Wisely then spake Wâ-te, the warrior old and good:
“Lady, we should be felling trees in the western wood.
Since we to fight have chosen, our hopes upon it staking,
The men of every princedom should forty well-built ships for us be
making.”
[946]
“I too will bid,” quoth Hilda, “that near the deep sea-flood
Twenty ships be builded, strong, and firm, and good;
And have them fully ready —my hest shall well be heeded—
To bear my friends and kindred to where they for the fight will soon
be needed.”
[947]
Siegfried, lord of Moorland, while their leave they took,
With kind and seemly bearing, thus to the women spoke:
“You have to tell me only when our time to wait is ending;
To sail shall I be ready, nor need you then for me be further
sending.”
[948]
Then to the sorrowing women, before they spread the sail,
The friendly guests, now leaving, bade a kind farewell.
The hearts of knights and maidens deep in woe were sinking;
Yet warlike deeds they plotted of which their Norman foes were never
thinking.
[949]
When they at length had ridden back again to their land,
Sadly they mourned their losses: then to the Wulpensand,
For the sake of the dead, did Hilda bid that food be taken
To the priests for them there praying. The queen was wise, the dead
were not forsaken.
[950]
There she bade to be builded a minster fair and wide;
A house for the sick, and a cloister built they at its side,
Near where the slain were buried. In many a land one heareth
Its name, and of those there fallen: ‘The church of Wulpensand’ is
the name it beareth.
Tale the Twentieth.
HOW HARTMUT WENT HOME TO NORMANDY.
[951]
No further will we tell you of how with these it fared,
Or how the cloister-brothers their life together shared.
Now to the tale of Hartmut we ask you all to listen;
How he with many maidens, high-born and fair, unto his land did
hasten.
[952]
After the fight was ended, as I have told before,
For many there was sorrow for the bitter wounds they bore:
Many who had fallen on the stormy field lay dying;
Children bereft of fathers bewailed them soon with tears they ne’er
were drying.
[953]
With heavy hearts the Normans were wafted o’er the flood;
Every night and morning many a warrior good
Felt ashamed and sorry, thus from the sands to be driven;
So felt the old and the youthful, although in all things else they
well had thriven.
[954]
They came to the Norman borders, unto King Ludwig’s land.
It was a day of gladness to all the sailing band,
To see at last their homesteads and thither to be steering.
Then said one among them: “These are Hartmut’s towns that we are
nearing.”
[955]
Helped by kindly breezes, soon they reached the shore.
Now the men of Normandy happy hearts all bore,
When to their wives and children they again were coming;
Long had they been fearing that they must die, while they afar were
roaming.
[956]
When now the glad King Ludwig did on his castles look,
Thus the lordly Norman to Gu-drun, the maiden, spoke:
“See you that palace, Lady? In bliss you may there be living;
If you to us are kindly, our richest lands will we to you be
giving.”
[957]
Then the high-born maiden thus made her sorrow known:
“To whom should I feel kindly, when kindness none have shown?
From that, alas! I’m sundered, and in my hopes am thwarted;
Nothing I know but hardship, and all my weary days I spend
sad-hearted.”
[958]
Then answered her King Ludwig: “Throw off this sorry mood,
And give your love to Hartmut, a knight both brave and good.
Whatever we are owning to give you we are willing;
With one who is so worthy blest may you live, and lofty rank be
filling.”
[959]
Then spake Hilda’s daughter: “Why leave me not in peace?
Rather than wed with Hartmut death would I dread far less.
That he should be my lover by birth he is not fitted;
To lose my life were better than take his love and as his bride be
greeted.”
[960]
When this was heard by Ludwig, filled with wrath was he;
Quick by the hair he seized her, and flung her into the sea.
Straightway the daring Hartmut his ready help then gave her;
He sprang at once to the maiden, and from the whirling waves his arm
did save her.
[961]
Just as the maid was sinking Hartmut reached her side;
Had not her lover helped her drowned were she in the tide.
Her yellow locks well grasping, then from out the water
With his hands he drew her: else nought from death had spared Queen
Hilda’s daughter.
[962]
Back to the ship did Hartmut bring the maiden fair;—
Rough ways to lovely women Ludwig did not spare.
Dragged from out the water, she in her smock was seated;
How full was she of sadness! Never before had the maiden thus been
treated.
[963]
Then all her friends together wept for the lovely maid,
None could there be happy; for what could be more sad
Than to see the king’s own daughter handled thus so roughly?
The thought to them was rising: “To us they now will bear themselves
more gruffly.”
[964]
Then said the knightly Hartmut: “Why drown my hoped-for wife,
Gu-drun, the lovely maiden, dear to me as life?
If any but my father so foul a wrong had done her,
Sore would be my anger, and I from him would take both life and
honor.”
[965]
To him King Ludwig answered: “Ever free from shame
Have I till age been living, and still a worthy name
And rank among my fellows will hold till life is ending.
Bid now Gu-drun, your lady, that she no more her scorn on me be
spending.”
[966]
Now unto Queen Gerlind errand-bearers came,
Who, in mood most happy, bore in Hartmut’s name
Words of love and honor, as from her son was fitting.
He asked a friendly welcome for his many knights who on the shore
were waiting.
[967]
They bore from him the tidings that he across the wave
Had brought the Hegeling maiden, to whom his love he gave
Ere he had looked upon her, and for whom he still was pining.
When this was heard by Gerlind, a happier day on her was never
shining.
[968]
Then said he who told it: “Lady, you now should ride
To the sea before the castle, where yet the maid doth bide,
And give her, in her sorrow, your love and kindly greeting;
You and your daughter, Ortrun, should haste to the shore, the
homeless maiden meeting.
[969]
“Likewise, riding with you down unto the flood,
Should go both maids and women, and also warriors good.
Her you will find in the harbor who from home was riven;
Both to the maid and her followers a welcome kind by you should now
be given.”
[970]
Then Queen Gerlind answered: “That will I gladly do;
’Twill make me richly happy King Hettel’s child to know,
And to find that, with her maidens, she has come to tarry.
Well I know that Hartmut will soon be blest, when he the maid shall
marry.”
[971]
Then she bade that horses, with saddle-cloths, be brought.
Ortrun, the youthful princess, was happy in the thought
Soon in her father’s kingdom to see Gu-drun, the maiden,
If this might truly happen; for the speech of all was with her
praises laden.
[972]
Then out of chests were taken of all the clothes the best
They knew therein were lying, to be worn to meet the guest.
Soon the knights of Hartmut to don the clothes were bidden;
Erelong a throng of followers, gaily bedight, from Gerlind’s halls
had ridden.
[973]
Upon the third day early, women as well as men,
All who there had gathered before Gerlind, their queen,
To give the maidens welcome, were ready and outfitted;
Out of the gates they crowded, and on their steeds not long in the
court-yard waited.
[974]
The Normans now with the women had into the harbor come:
The booty they unloaded that they would carry home.
All unto their birthland back had come right gladly;
Gu-drun and her band of maidens, alone of all, demeaned themselves
but sadly.
[975]
Now the brave Sir Hartmut led her forth by the hand,
If she had deemed it fitting, this she had not deigned;
Yet the poor child, in sorrow, took his love but coldly,
Altho’ he showed it warmly, and worship more had done freely and
boldly.
[976]
With her went sixty maidens who over the sea had come:
One saw, as he beheld them, how that all from their home
Came with proudest bearing. They erst high rank had taken,
In other lands and kingdoms; their hearts were heavy now, of bliss
forsaken.
[977]
The sister of young Hartmut between two barons rode;
Now to Hilda’s daughter a welcome warm she showed:
Ortrun, Ludwig’s daughter, her eyes now wet with weeping,
Kissed the homeless maiden, while she her fair white hands in her
own was keeping.
[978]
Then the wife of Ludwig to kiss her, too, was fain,
But to the youthful maiden the thought was full of pain.
Thus she spake to Gerlind: “Why come you here to meet me?
Loath am I to kiss you, and neither can I bear that you should greet
me.
[979]
“’Twas by your own ill-doing that I, poor wretched maid,
Have known no home nor dwelling; heart-sorrow long I’ve had;
My lot, alas! is shameful, and will, I fear, grow harder.”
Then Ortrun strove to soothe her, and did her best that with love
Gu-drun should reward her.
[980]
One by one she greeted the maids on every side.
Now rose a wondrous shouting; men flocked from far and wide:
Upon the pebbly sea-beach stakes for tents were driven;
With silken ropes were they fastened; to Hartmut and his men was
shelter in them given.
[981]
To bear the goods from the seaside the folk were all astir.
Gu-drun, fair maiden, sorrowed, and pain it gave to her
To see that all around her the Normans were so many;
Unless it were to Ortrun, she never showed a friendly mood to any.
[982]
The maidens on the seashore must all the day abide.
With tears their eyes were flowing, whatever others did;
Dry were they but seldom, their cheeks were pale with sorrow:
Hartmut tried to soothe them, but their sadness lasted yet through
many a morrow.
[983]
To hold Gu-drun in honor was Ortrun ever stern,
And, e’en if others wronged her, with love to her did turn:
She in her father’s kingdom strove to make her merry,
But, far from friends and kindred, often the poor young girl was sad
and weary.
[984]
To the Normans home was welcome, as indeed was right;
They boasted much of the booty, both churl as well as knight,
Brought from the Hegeling kingdom, as they home were turning.
What welcome glad all gave them who ne’er to see them hoped, albeit
yearning!
[985]
Soon as Hartmut’s warriors from all their toil were free,
And they were fully rested from off the stormy sea,
They quickly left each other, for their homes in many places:
While some their hands were wringing, smiles were seen to brighten
others’ faces.
[986]
Then did Hartmut also turn away from the shore,
And to a stately palace the fair Gu-drun he bore.
Henceforth the youthful maiden must tarry there far longer
Than she to stay was minded, and there her woe and pain grew ever
stronger.