"There dwelt a king in Leiré."[7]
Roeskilde! thou burial-place of kings, in thy pearl we shall see the lonely grave on whose stone is chiselled a lyre and the name—Weyse.
[7] Leiré, the original residence of the Danish kings, said to have been founded by Skiold, a son of Odin, was, during the heathen ages, a place of note. It contained a large and celebrated temple for offerings, to which people thronged every ninth year, at the period of the great Yule feast, which was held annually in mid-winter, commencing on the 4th of January. In Norway this ancient festival was held in honour of Thor; in Denmark, in honour of Odin. Every ninth year the sacrifices were on a larger scale than usual, consisting then of ninety-nine horses, dogs, and cocks—human beings were also sometimes offered. When Christianity was established in Denmark the seat of royalty was transferred to Roeskilde, and Leiré fell into total insignificance. It is now merely a village in Zealand.—Trans.
Now come we to Sigersted, near Ringsted. The river is shallow—the yellow corn waves where Hagbarth's boat was moored, not far from Signé's maiden bower. Who does not know the tradition about Hagbarth[8] and Signelil, and their passionate love—that Hagbarth was hanged in the galley, while Signelil's tower stood in flames?
[8] Hagbarth, a son of the Norwegian king, Amund, and his three brothers, Hake, Helvin, and Hamund, scoured the seas with a hundred ships, and fell in with the king of Zealand's three sons, Sivald, Alf, and Alger. They attacked each other, and continued their bloody strife until a late hour at night. Next day they all found their ships so disabled that they could not renew the conflict. Thereupon they made friends, and the Norwegian princes or pirates accompanied the Zealanders to the court of their father, King Sigar. Here Hagbarth won the heart of the king's daughter Signé, and they became secretly engaged. Hildigeslev, a handsome German prince, was at that time her suitor; but she refused him, and in revenge he sowed discord between her lover and his brothers and her brothers. Alf and Alger murdered Hagbarth's brothers, Helvin and Hamund, but were killed in their turn by Hagbarth and Hake. After this deed Hagbarth dared not remain at Sigar's court; but he longed so much to be with Signé, that he dressed himself as a woman, and in this disguise he obtained admission to the palace, and contrived to be named one of her attendants. The damsels of her suite were much surprised at the hardness of the new waiting-maid's hands, and at other unfeminine peculiarities which they remarked; but Signé appointed him her especial attendant, and thus partially removed him from their troublesome curiosity. Fancying themselves safe, they relaxed their precautions. Hagbarth was discovered, secured, and carried before the Thing, or judicial assembly. Before he left her he received a promise from Signé that she would not survive him. He was condemned to death; to be hanged on board a galley, in view of Signé's dwelling. To prove her love and faith, he entreated that his mantle might be hung up first, in order, he said, that the sight of it might prepare him for his own death. It was done; and when Signé saw it she fancied her lover was dead, and instantly set fire to her abode. Hagbarth beheld the flames; and no longer doubting the constancy of the princess, he died rejoicing in following her to the other world.—Trans.
"Beautiful Sorö, encircled by woods!" thy tranquil, cloistered town peeps forth from among thy moss-covered trees; the keen bright eyes of youth gaze from the academy, over the lake, to the busy highway, where the locomotive's dragon snorts, while it is flying through the wood. Sorö, thou poet's pearl, that hast in thy custody the honoured dust of Holberg! like a majestic white swan by the deep lake stands thy far-famed seat of learning. We fix our eyes on it, and then they wander in search of the simple star-flower in the wooded ground—a small house. Pious hymns are chanted there, that echo over the length and breadth of the land; words are uttered there to which the very rustics listen, and hear of Denmark's bygone ages. As the greenwood and the birds' songs belong to each other, so are associated the names of Sorö and Ingemann.
To Slagelsé! What is the pearl that dazzles us here? The monastery of Antoorskov has vanished, even the last solitary remaining wing, though one old relic still exists—renovated and renovated again—a wooden cross upon the heights above, where, in legendary lore, it is said that Holy Anders, the warrior priest, woke up, borne thither in one night from Jerusalem!
Korsör—there wert thou[9] born, who gave us
"Mirth with melancholy mingled,
In stories of 'Knud Sjællandsfar.'"
[9] Jeus Baggesen.—Trans.