IX. GOING HOME.
To Garden.
The King, Queen, and the old Master took leave of Etzel, who was too sad about the death of his boys to take much interest in their coming or going.
The travellers at length came to a wooded hill with a castle perched on the top. This castle belonged to a robber-knight named Elsung, who had always been an enemy of the Amelungs and Wölfings. The old master, who acted as guide, and led the way, bade the king be prepared. He did not speak a moment too soon, for Elsung at the same instant appeared, followed by some horsemen. The robber-knight drew rein, and haughtily demanded, as toll from the travellers, their horses and armour, Hildebrand’s long beard, and the beautiful woman who accompanied them.
“We need our horses and armour that we may fight in the land of the Amelungs,” said Hildebrand, “and we cannot spare the woman, for she acts as our cook.”
“Nay, then, you are Amelungs yourselves,” cried Elsung, “and must each give me your right hand and left foot as ransom. If you refuse, I will have your heads as well, that I may avenge my father, whom Samson slew.”
The heroes deigned no further answer. They paid another toll than that demanded with the points of their swords and spears, and with such hearty good will that Elsung’s men were either slain, or else took to flight, and their lord himself was finally overthrown and bound.
As Hildebrand was about to tie the prisoner to a horse, Elsung said:
“You are Ermenrich’s men, so I will tell you the news that has just reached me. The brothers of the Lady Swanhilde, whom the emperor had trodden to death by horses, have fallen upon him, and have cut off his hands and feet.”
“Ha!” cried the hero of Bern, “do you bring such good news? Take your liberty in payment thereof.”
The travellers now pursued their journey, and after meeting with several more adventures, at last arrived safely at Garden, where they were at first received with suspicion; but the Lady Ute recognised her husband the moment she saw him, and Hadubrand was introduced to his brave old father, whom he had not seen since his childhood.
To Bern.
The hero of Bern was welcomed with the utmost joy by his people, and soon collected an army, which among its most celebrated warriors numbered brave Lodwig and his son Konrad, faithful Eckehart and his comrade Hache. Nor was Heime wanting; he had done penance for his sins in a cloister, and now, hearing of Dietrich’s return, hastened to him to renew his oath, death having released him from the fealty he had formerly owed to Ermenrich.
Dietrich’s and Sibich’s forces met. A terrible battle took place. Dietrich fought with heroic valour, sweeping down all before him. Eckehart and Hache sought untiringly for faithless Sibich, and at last they recognised him among the fugitives, although he had cast from him all signs of the imperial dignity he had usurped. Eckehart seized him by the scruff of the neck, swung him before him on his horse, and galloped back to the camp.
“Remember the Harlungs,” he cried, and immediately ordered a gallows to be erected.
Sibich entreated for life, bare life. He offered much red gold to have his death put off for even a short space, but—
“Remember the Harlungs,” was the only answer he received.
And so the victory was won. The hero of Bern marched to Romaburg at the head of his army. He was everywhere met by the princes of the land of the Amelungs. They greeted him as their chief, and on his arrival at Romaburg he received the imperial crown.
The Passing of Dietrich.
Herrat was a faithful wife and helpmeet. The old master and many of his other ancient friends were round him; but in the midst of his glory Dietrich could not forget the faithful comrades who had died in his service, the friends who had given him their all, and to whom he could no longer show either love or kindness.
His power was great. The empire was more extensive than it had ever been before, and peace reigned within its borders. Once, indeed, a giant had committed great devastations within the land, and Heime had sought him out, but only to be slain. Dietrich himself had then gone forth, and had conquered the monster. It was the last combat in which the aged hero ever took part.
ROUND THEODERIC’S TOMB.
His wife, noble Herrat, soon after fell sick and died. From that time forward his character seemed changed. He was gloomy and morose, and committed many actions for which no after repentance could atone. The only one of his former pleasures that gave him any happiness was that of hunting. When he heard the cheerful sound of the horns, his face would clear up, and a smile play on his lips, and he would once more look like the Dietrich his friends had known of yore. Once, when he was bathing in the river, a great stag with golden horns, wonderful to look upon, trotted slowly along the bank, and passed into the wood close by. He sprang out of the water, threw on his clothes, and called for horse and hounds. Before the servants could bring him what he desired, Dietrich perceived a coal-black steed come towards him neighing. Seizing his sword and darts, he hastily mounted the noble animal, and galloped after the stag. His servants followed with the fleetest horses in his stables, but could not come up with him. The hero rode on faster, and ever faster. His people waited weeks, months, and even years for his return, but all in vain. The mighty empire had no ruler. Bloody wars broke out in consequence. His subjects longed for his return, that his strong hand might rule the land again; but still he did not come. Wodan, his ancestor, had caught him up to himself, and had made him one of his wild huntsmen. Many a benighted traveller has seen him rushing past, mounted on his coal-black steed. The people of Lausitz and other parts of Germany talk of him as Dietherbernet, and see him in the Furious Host even to this day.
PART SECOND.
THE NIBELUNG AND KINDRED LEGENDS.
GUDRUN. BEOWULF.
SIEGFRIED FIGHTING WITH ALBERICH.
THE NIBELUNG HERO.
I.
SIEGFRIED’S YOUTH.
Once upon a time there was a noble prince in the Netherlands called Siegfried (Sigfrît, Siegwart, or Sigurðr). His father, Sigmund, was descended from the glorious race of the Wölfungs, who traced their lineage back to Wodan. His mother, Sigelinde, was of equally high birth. They both rejoiced in the early signs of strength and activity displayed by their son, and hoped that when grown to man’s estate, his heroic deeds might gain him glory and renown.
The boy, however, soon became aware of his wonderful strength, and showed a haughty, unbending spirit. He would suffer no contradiction: he beat his playfellows black and blue when they displeased him, even those among them who were much bigger than he. The older he grew, the more he was hated by all the other boys, and the more anxious his parents became regarding his future.
At last Sigmund told the queen that he only knew of one way to bring the young rebel under rule, and that was to apprentice him to the smith, Mimer, who lived in the neighbouring forest, and who was a strong and wise man, and would teach the boy how to forge the weapons he should one day wield as a warrior. The queen gave her consent, so the father took the necessary steps.
When the smith heard the whole story, he declared himself ready to undertake the task assigned him, for he had a strong belief in the pacifying effects of hard work. Everything went well for a time. One year passed on after another, till the prince grew almost to man’s estate. But labour in the smithy was irksome to him, and when his comrades set him right, he beat them, threw them down, and, on one occasion, went so far as to drag the best smith among them—Wieland—by the hair to his master’s feet.
“This will not do at all,” said Mimer; “come here and forge yourself a good sword.”
Siegfried was quite ready to do so. He asked for the best iron and the heaviest hammer, which was such a weight that it took both hands to wield it. Mimer drew the strongest bar of iron out of the forge, glowing red, and laid it on the anvil. Siegfried swung the hammer with one hand, as though it had been a plaything; but when it came down upon the iron the blow was like a clap of thunder, the house shook to its foundation, the iron shivered into splinters, and the anvil sank a foot deep into the ground.
“This will never do,” said the master as before; “we must try another plan, my boy, if you are to make yourself a suitable weapon! Go to the charcoal-burner in the pine wood, and fetch me as much of his charcoal as you can carry on your strong shoulders. Meanwhile I shall prepare the best iron to make you a sword, such as never yet was possessed by any warrior.”
Siegfried was so pleased to hear this, that picking up the largest axe he could find, he set out into the forest. It was a beautiful spring day. The birds were singing, and the grass was studded with violets and forget-me-nots. He plucked a bunch of the flowers, and stuck them in his leather cap, from a half-conscious feeling that they might perhaps bring him good luck. He went on further and further, till he reached the middle of a dark pine forest. Not a bird was to be seen; but the gloomy silence was broken by a gurgling, hissing, and roaring, that might easily have affrighted a less daring spirit. He soon found the reason of the noise. A dismal swamp lay before him, in which gigantic toads, snakes, and lind-worms were disporting themselves.
“I never saw so many horrible creatures in my life,” said Siegfried; “but I will soon stop their music.”
So saying, he picked up dead trees and threw them into the morass, till he had completely covered it. After which, he hastened on to the charcoal-burner’s house. Arrived there, he asked the man to give him fire that he might burn the monsters.
“Poor boy,” said the charcoal-burner, “I am very sorry for you; but if you go back the way you came, the great dragon will come out of his cave and make but a single mouthful of you. Smith Mimer is a faithless man; he came here before you, and told me that he had roused the worm against you, because you were so unmanageable.”
“Have no fear, good man,” answered Siegfried; “I shall first slay the worm, and then the smith. But now give me the fire, that I may burn the poisonous brood.”
The lad was soon back at the swamp. He set fire to the dry wood with which he had covered it, and let it blaze. The wind was favourable, and fanned the flames to a great fire, so that the creatures were all burnt up in a short space of time. The lad then went round the dismal swamp and found a small rivulet of hot fat issuing from it. He dipped his finger in it, and found, on withdrawing it, that it was covered with a horn-like skin. “Ah,” he thought, “this would be useful in war.” He therefore undressed, and bathed his whole body in the liquid fat, so that he was now covered with horn from head to foot, except in one place, between his shoulders, where a leaf had stuck to his skin. This he did not discover until later. He dressed himself again in his leather garments, and walked on, his club resting on his shoulder. Suddenly the dragon darted out upon him from its hiding-place; but three good blows of his club slew the monster. He then went back to the smithy to take vengeance on the master smith and his comrade. At sight of him, the men fled affrighted into the forest, but the master awaited the youth’s arrival. At first Mimer tried the effect of flattering words; but finding they were vain, he took to his sword. Siegfried then dealt him one mighty blow, and had no need to strike again.
Having done this, the lad went into the smithy, and with great patience and care forged himself a sword, whose blade he hardened in the blood of the lind-worm. Then he set out for his father’s palace. The king sharply rebuked him for his evil deed in slaying the master smith, who was so good a subject, and so useful to the whole country. And the queen, in her turn, reproached him with many tears, for having stained his hands with innocent blood. Siegfried, sobered by his father’s reproof, and softened by his mother’s tears, did not try to excuse himself; but, falling at the queen’s feet and hiding his face in his hands, he said the sight of her tears cut him to the heart, and for the future he vowed that his deeds should be those of a gentle knight. Then the hearts of the parents were comforted.
From that time forward Siegfried was changed. He listened to the advice of men of understanding, and strove to learn how to act wisely and well. Whenever he felt one of his old fits of passion coming over him, he thought of his mother’s tears and his father’s reproof, and conquered the evil spirit that threatened to master him. The expectations of the people were great respecting him: they were sure that in him their nation had found a new hero. And then, he was so handsome and graceful, that the women admired him as much for his looks as the men did for his prowess.
Young Siegfried sails to Isenland.
His father and mother were so proud of him, that they longed for the day when his name and fame should be hailed with applause in every land.
The king at length deemed that the time was come to give Siegfried and his comrades, and many young nobles of his own and other lands, the sword and armour that marked a warrior. This investiture was in those days a ceremony of great importance, and took up the same place in a young man’s life as the ceremony of knighthood in later times. The solemn investiture was succeeded by feats of arms and trials of skill. Siegfried was victorious in all, and, at the end of the day, the populace shouted: “Long live young Siegfried, our king; long may he and his worthy father rule over us!”
But he signed to them, and said, “I am not worthy of such high honour. I must first win a kingdom for myself. I will entreat my noble father to allow me to go out into the world, and seek my fortune.”
When the warriors were all assembled at the feast in the royal hall, Siegfried did not take his place at the upper end of the table beside his father, but modestly seated himself among the young warriors who had still their names to make. Some of the party began to talk of distant Isenland, the kingdom of the beautiful and warlike Brunhild, who challenged all her wooers to do battle with her, thereby slaying many.
They talked of the land of the Nibelungs, learned in magic; of the Drachenstein, where a flying dragon, of fiendish aspect, had taken up its abode.
Others, again, talked of the lovely princess at Worms on the Rhine, who was carefully guarded by her three brothers and by her uncle, strong Hagen.
“Oh, how pleasant it must be to see such marvels, and to seek out adventures!” cried Siegfried, and approaching his father, he asked his permission to go out and see the world.
The king understood his desire, for he had had an adventurous youth himself; and promised to let him go, provided his mother gave her consent.
It was pain and grief to the queen to part with her son, but she at last permitted him to go, and one fine morning he set out, dressed in a shining suit of armour, mounted on a swift horse, and bearing the sword which he himself had made. His spirits were high, and his heart full of hope, as is the case with every youth of spirit who goes out into the unknown world to seek his fortune.
He went northwards in the direction of Isenland. On reaching the sea-shore, he found a vessel ready to start; but the skipper feared a storm, and only set sail at Siegfried’s entreaty. After a quick but tempestuous voyage, Siegfried landed, and went up to the palace.
Queen Brunhild received him in the great hall, where many warriors were assembled, each of whom had come determined to woo the lady by great feats of arms.
On the following day the warriors assembled in the lists, where Brunhild joined them before long. She was clad in full armour, and looked as haughty and as beautiful as Freya, when she led the Valkyrs of old to the battles of the heroes.
Siegfried gazed at her in astonishment. She was so much taller and nobler looking than any of the maidens in her train, who were armed equally with herself. He almost wished to join the ranks of the wooers, and win her hand. He raised a stone in sport, and flung it far beyond the lists; then, turning to the queen, took leave of her with all reverence, and returned again to his vessel, saying to himself:
“I could never love her, she is too like a man. That maiden must be shy and modest, gentle and kindly, who would gain the heart of a brave warrior so utterly that he would think nothing of spending his heart’s blood in her service.”
After a quick voyage, he resumed his journey by land, now through rich and well-cultivated plains, and again through desert lands, where wild beasts and robbers had their abode. He had many a hard fight by the way, and slew all manner of giants and monsters. The minstrels sang of his great deeds in cottage and in castle, so that his name became known far and wide.
When he reached the land of the Nibelungs, the kings of that country, Schilbung and Nibelung by name, asked him to divide between them the treasure left them by their father Nibeling, for they could not agree as to what was a fair division. In payment for this service they offered him the good sword Balmung, which was the handiwork of dwarfs, and was tempered in dragon’s blood. The hero divided the treasure with the utmost fairness, yet the brothers were not satisfied. They told him that they were sure he was keeping back the most valuable things for himself, and commanded twelve enormous giants to seize him, and confine him in the hollow mountain where the treasure was kept. The hero at once drew Balmung, and began slaying one giant after another. Then the royal magicians chanted their spells, and called up a thick mist; a storm arose, and the mountain trembled under repeated thunder-claps. All in vain. The last of the giants fell, and finally the two brothers were slain; then the mist cleared away, and the sun shone full on the victorious warrior.
When the Nibelung people saw the wonders that had been done, they greeted Siegfried as their king. But even yet his difficulties were not at an end. An avenger had arisen: this was Alberich the dwarf. Well armed with enchanted weapons, he came up against the bold warrior. He was now visible, now invisible, according as he drew the cap of darkness over his helmet, or took it off. After a long struggle, Siegfried overthrew him.
The dwarf was now in his power, but Siegfried could not kill a defenceless foe. Alberich was so touched with this generosity that he swore to be true to his victor: an oath he never broke. After this, no one disputed the hero’s right to the land of the Nibelungs. He was recognised as king by the whole people, and also became possessed of all the treasures in the hollow mountain, and of Alberich’s cap of darkness by reason of his victory over the dwarf.
When Siegfried had reduced the whole kingdom to order, and appointed proved men to be governors of the provinces, he chose out twelve noble warriors to be his trusty companions. The treasure furnished him with rings and chains of silver and gold with which to enrich his followers. The whole band looked like an assemblage of kings under the lead of some yet mightier chieftain.
He and his men now set out on their journey homewards, and reached the Netherlands without further adventure. The king and queen were overjoyed to see their son, of whom they had for a long time heard nothing but indistinct rumours. Siegfried remained at home for many days to rest and recover from his weariness. He often passed hours sitting at his mother’s feet, as when he was a little boy, and telling her of his hopes and longings. His confidence and trust in her made her very happy. But when he stood before her in all the panoply of war, her heart beat high with pride that she had such a hero for a son.
Pleasant as it was to be at home again, Siegfried could not long be contented with idleness; his soul panted to be out in the battle of life, where alone a man preserves his strength of mind and body. He told his father that he wished to go to Worms, in the Rhineland, and try his fortune with the great warriors of Burgundy.
The king’s face clouded when he heard this. “My son,” he said, “do not go to Burgundy, for there dwell the boldest warriors in the whole world. No hero has as yet withstood them. There are grim Hagen, strong Ortewin of Metz, and King Gunther, with his brother Gernot. They all unite in guarding the lovely maiden Chriemhild, whom many a brave man has wooed, only to lose his life.”
“Ha! That is a good story!” cried bold Siegfried. “These mighty warriors shall yield me their kingdom, and the lovely maid as well, if she be pleasing in my eyes. With my twelve Nibelungs at my back, I have no fears about the fighting.”
The king’s remonstrances and the queen’s entreaties were alike in vain. They were obliged to consent to their son’s undertaking this adventure.
