Tale XIX: How the Hegelings Went Home to Their Own Land

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.

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.

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.

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.

“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?”

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.

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.

“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.”

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!”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.

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.

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.

“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.”

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.

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.

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.

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

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.”

“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.”

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.”

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.

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.

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.