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 XIX
How the Hegelings Went Home to Their Own Land
The Hegelings return, and announce to Queen Hilda the death of her husband and their ill-success. They decide to wait till the young knights become old enough for war, and then to make a second campaign against the Normans.
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 Gudrun 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! Gudrun 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 Gudrun 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 Gudrun, 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 Gudrun, poor
