The attention of the people, was now turned to the tournament, which
was to commence a few hours after the ceremonies of the church were
ended. The spacious lists were surrounded by a countless crowd, and the
whole castle-hill was equally thronged with spectators. The raised
benches placed in the form of stairs around the lists were occupied
with gaily-attired ladies, rejoicing in eager anticipation of the
spectacle. At last the clang of trumpets announced the arrival of the
royal party. All the royal ladies, with their distinguished train, took
their seats in the gallery, which was hung with scarlet. There the
queen of the feast, the lovely and royal bride, again appeared, with
the diadem encircling her fair tresses; she took her place on the seat
of honour, between her mother and Queen Helvig, amid the joyous
acclamations of the people. King Birger sat at his mother's side beside
Princess Merete; he was present only as a spectator of the tournament,
in which he purposed not to take a part. Thorkild Knudsen and a number
of elderly Swedish courtiers stood near him, with Count Gerhard, who no
longer partook in this diversion; but the young Danish sovereign, with
the Swedish dukes and other princely guests, remained on horseback
without the lists among the knights of the tournament. On a raised seat
under the royal gallery sat the judges of the combat, who were all old
and experienced knights; and within the lists walked the heralds and
pursuivants in their festal attire, with white staves in their hands,
to watch over the observance of order and usage. A large band of
trumpeters and horn-players opened the chivalrous diversion with the
music of the national tournament song.
Amid the chorus in which the people joined,
"When the Danish knights ride o'er the ground,
Their horses tramp with a thund'ring sound."
all the knights galloped briskly into the lists, and ranged themselves
for the encounter. The tournament then commenced. Many lances were
broken amid the shouts of the bystanders. Dangerous accidents seldom
occurred in this combat with blunt lances, although a knight might
easily indeed sprain an arm or a leg by a too headlong fall from the
saddle. Many knights displayed great agility and dexterity in the
management of horse and lance; but Marsk Oluffsen, Count Henrik of
Mecklenborg, and Sir Helmer Blaa, bore off every prize. A veiled lady
often waved encouragement and approbation to Sir Helmer; she threw
gloves, kerchiefs, and silk ribands down to him from the ladies'
gallery. He bowed courteously. His shield bore the motto, "For St. Anna
and St. Eric," the guardian saints of his beloved wife and his
sovereign, in whose honour he wielded his lance on this occasion. In
his last career he unhorsed the Marsk;--the lady now threw her veil
down to him. It was his young and beautiful wife, the Lady Anna, who,
by her unlooked-for presence here, surprised and delighted him beyond
expression; as soon as he recognised her he flung up his lance high in
the air in a transport of joy. He forgot to receive the prize he had
won, but rushed like the stormer of a castle up into the gallery to
embrace her, to the great amusement of the spectators, and even of the
grave judges of the tournament, who readily forgave him this little
deviation from due order and usage.
Among the Swedish nobles and knights who took a part in the tournament,
Duke Eric of Sudermania was pre-eminent; no knight could keep his seat
before his lance; and his sister, the young queen of the festival,
rejoiced greatly at the honour won here by her best-loved and most
chivalrous brother. Duke Valdemar of Finland also shone in this
diversion, and especially sought to display his boldness and daring
when the fears of Thorkild Knudsen's fair daughter were excited for
him. Each time a combatant fell on the sand the trumpets sounded in
honour of the victor, and the people shouted, while the vanquished
knight hastened to salute his conqueror with a courteous bow, without
complaining or showing any sign of vexation. Drost Aage, who was wont
to be a victor at all these sports of arms, had not as yet sufficiently
recovered his strength, after his dangerous fall at Kallundborg, to be
able to take a share in this day's tournament; he was besides, even
amid his joy, at the king's successful love, in an unusually pensive
mood; he had now renounced all hope of seeing Marsk Stig's unfortunate
daughters released from their state imprisonment. The king appeared
also remarkably thoughtful, although deep and heart-felt joy beamed in
his countenance each time his eye met Queen Ingeborg's loving glance
from the gallery. His thoughts seemed often to wander from the scene
before him, and he looked not with his customary eagerness and interest
on this his favourite diversion, at which he this day, as bridegroom
and awarder of the prizes, only purposed to be a spectator. Duke Eric
of Langeland, who was celebrated as one of the most invincible
tournament knights, appeared not to have found any opponent among the
younger lords and knights against whom he cared to enter the lists
since Duke Eric of Sudermania had quitted them, having already broken
the full number of lances necessary for gaining the highest prize.
Junker Christopher looked, with gloomy disdain, on a spectacle which he
regarded as the worn-out pastime of childish vanity. He knew himself
how to wield his lance with power and skill, but seemed to consider it
beneath his dignity to contend for a tournament prize, which was to be
awarded by his brother, or to measure himself with any one below the
rank of king. By degrees King Eric's youthful countenance became
animated as he looked on the encounters. His white steed curvetted
under him; and as soon as the last prize was awarded he briskly seized
a gilded lance, and cleared the lists by a daring leap, to the great
delight of the admiring spectators. "Shall we venture a tilt together
in honour of our ladies, sir cousin?" he called gaily to Duke Eric of
Langeland. The gigantic Duke of Langeland bowed courteously, and rode
into the lists.
"Zounds! Longshanks! Longshanks!" was re-echoed from one to the other,
among the curious bystanders, and all stood in breathless expectation.
The king caused his helmet and cuirass to be brought; a rose-coloured
silk riband fluttered down to him from the queen's gallery; he fastened
it to his helmet, gaily waved his hand to his young queen, and
gallopped to his station. The Duke fastened a knot of blue riband on
his helmet. With great dexterity and martial skill the two royal
combatants now rushed towards each other, lance in rest, at full
gallop. The king wielded his lance adroitly and parried his adversary's
thrust. The Duke's lance flew from his hand, and was driven far forward
on the course; but the king's lance broke against the duke's
breastplate, without shaking his seat in the saddle.
The duke's as well as the king's skill and dexterity were greatly
admired; but many expressions of the people's partiality for their
chivalrous young monarch were distinctly heard. "Had but the king's
lance stood the shock," said one young fellow, "we should surely have
seen Longshanks bite the dust."
"No wonder yon fellow kept his seat," growled a seaman, "he can
well-nigh anchor in the sand with his long shanks."
The trumpets sounded, the combatants saluted each other with courtesy,
and the diversion now seemed to be ended; but the music continued, amid
general acclamation and a hum of voices.
"See whether the junker dares risk his jerkin! No, _he_ does wisest in
looking on," said a bold, loud-tongued voice close behind Junker
Christopher.
"_He_ Would sooner let his true men break their necks in earnest, than
venture his own in jest," muttered another.
Junker Christopher appeared to have heard these speeches, for his face
flushed crimson. While the trumpets were still sounding, and the king
was about to quit the lists, the junker suddenly set spurs to his heavy
horse, and rode towards him, with lance in hand.
"If I see aright, my brother would also try a tilt with me," said the
king starting, "Well then, strike up the tournament song, herald!--a
new lance, pursuivant!--but not of glass like the first!"
The horn-players struck up the ancient, well-known strain. The
pursuivant presented the king a lance with a broad piece of board at
the end. Attention was again anxiously excited, and the young queen
appeared somewhat uneasy. The king had taken his place; his countenance
was not so placid and cheerful as before; his white steed snorted and
pranced impatiently. The junker had retired to some distance, and
seemed not as yet to have completed his preparations.
"Now haste, Christopher!" called the king; "let us be brisk, as beseems
our festival!" They now quitted their respective stations. The king
rode forward in a stately ambling pace, apparently that he might not
avail himself of his superiority and greater experience; but the junker
dashed his spurs into his horse's side, and rushed forward with wild
impetuosity. The king stood almost still, on perceiving with
astonishment that his brother's lance was couched directly against his
uncovered face. "Where would'st thou strike? against the breast!
between the four limbs!" he shouted, but it seemed as though the junker
neither heard nor saw; he continued to rush forward in the same
direction, with flushed cheek and staring eye. But it was now remarked
that the king became greatly incensed,--"Down then!" cried Eric,
and at the same moment Christopher's lance was dashed aside, and the
junker himself fell backwards out of the saddle. The king instantly
sprang from his horse, and assisted him to rise, while the trumpets
sounded and the air re-echoed with the shouts of the exulting
spectators--"Thou art not bruised?" asked the king. "In what fashion
dost thou couch thy lance?"
"Ill against you my mighty liege and vanquisher!" muttered Christopher,
"but that is all in due order--hear how the people screech for joy at
the fair spectacle you have afforded them," he added with bitterness
and in a lowered tone, "had I broken my neck the festivity would have
been complete."
"Let not this little mischance vex thee," said the king, "such may
happen to the best of us--another time I may have a worse fate."
"That is very possible, your grace!" answered the junker in a deep and
almost choking voice, greeting the king with measured courtesy, as he
retreated and retired. He instantly vaulted upon his horse, and rode
off through the noisy crowds, who laughed loudly, and made merry over
the ridiculous position in which the junker had thrown his legs in the
air, on receiving the thrust of the king's lance.
Thus ended the tournament; but the acclamations with which the king was
followed to the castle bridge, appeared this time to please him but
little. He thought he had seen a fire in his brother's eye which filled
him with horror.