Legends of the Middle Ages Part 3

The swan maiden then informed her that her brother Ortwine had grown up, and that he would soon come with brave old Wat and the longing Herwig to deliver her.

The next day, in spite of the increased cold, Gerlinda again roughly bade the maidens go down to the sh.o.r.e and wash, refusing to allow them any covering except one rough linen garment.

"They then took up the garments and went upon their way.

'May G.o.d let me,' said Gudrun, 'remind you of this day.'

With naked feet they waded there through the ice and snow: The n.o.ble maids, all homeless, were filled with pain and woe."

_Gudrun_ (Dippold's tr.).

[Sidenote: Gudrun's deliverance.] Gudrun and Hildburg had barely begun their usual task, however, ere a small boat drew near, in which they recognized Herwig and Ortwine. All unconscious of their ident.i.ty at first, the young men inquired about Gudrun. She herself, to test their affection, replied that the princess was dead, and did not allow them to catch a glimpse of her face until she beheld Herwig's emotion at these tidings, and heard him protest that he would be faithful to her unto death.

"There spoke the royal Herwig: 'As long as lasts my life, I'll mourn for her; the maiden was to become my wife.'"

_Gudrun_ (Dippold's tr.).

The lovers, who had been equally true, now fell into each other's arms.

Ortwine was overjoyed at finding his sister and her companion, having long secretly loved the latter, so he poured out an avowal of his pa.s.sion, and won from Hildburg a promise to be his wife. The first moments of joyful reunion over, Herwig would fain have carried Gudrun and Hildburg back to camp with him; but Ortwine proudly declared that he had come to claim them openly, and would bear them away from Normandy honorably, in the guise of princesses, rather than by stealth.

Promising to rescue them on the morrow, the young men took leave of the maidens. Hildburg conscientiously finished her task, but Gudrun proudly flung the linen into the sea and returned to the palace empty-handed, saying that it did not become her to do any more menial labor, since she had been kissed by two kings. Gerlinda, hearing her confess that she had flung the linen into the sea, ordered her to be scourged; but when Gudrun turned upon her and proudly announced that she would take her revenge on the morrow, when she would preside over the banquet hall as queen, Gerlinda concluded that she had decided to accept Hartmut.

The mother, therefore, flew to him to impart the joyful tidings. In his delight he would fain have embraced Gudrun, who, however, haughtily bade him refrain from saluting a mere washerwoman. Becoming aware only then of her sorry plight, the prince withdrew, sternly ordering that her maidens should again be restored to her, that her every command should be fulfilled as if she were already queen, and that all should treat her with the utmost respect. These orders were executed without delay, and while Hartmut was preparing for his wedding on the morrow, Gudrun, again clad in royal attire, with her maidens around her, whispered the tidings of their coming deliverance. Morning had barely dawned when Hildburg, gazing out of the window, saw the castle entirely surrounded by the Hegelings' forces; and at c.o.c.kcrow old Wat's horn pealed forth a loud defiance, rousing the Normans from pleasant dreams, and calling them to battle instead of to the antic.i.p.ated wedding.

"The morning star had risen upon the heavens high, When to the castle window a beauteous maid drew nigh, In order to espy there and watch the break of day, Whereby from royal Gudrun she would obtain rich pay.

"There looked the n.o.ble maiden and saw the morning glow.

Reflected in the water, as it might well be so, Were seen the s.h.i.+ning helmets and many bucklers beaming.

The castle was surrounded; with arms the fields were gleaming."

_Gudrun_ (Dippold's tr.).

The battle was very fierce, and the poem enumerates many of the cuts and thrusts given and received. Clas.h.i.+ng swords and streams of gore now monopolize the reader's attention. In the fray Herwig slew King Ludwig.

Gudrun was rescued by Hartmut from the hands of Gerlinda, who had just bidden her servants put her to death, so that her friends should not take her alive. Next the Norman prince met his rival and fought bravely. He was about to succ.u.mb, however, when his sister Ortrun, who throughout had been gentle and loving to Gudrun, implored her to save her brother's life.

Gudrun, touched by this request, called out of the cas.e.m.e.nt to Herwig, who, at a word from her, sheathed his sword, and contented himself with taking Hartmut prisoner.

[Sidenote: Death of Gerlinda.] The castle was duly plundered, the whole town sacked, and Wat, bursting into the palace, began to slay all he met.

The women, in terror, then crowded around Gudrun, imploring her protection.

Among these were Ortrun and Gerlinda; but while Gudrun would have protected the former at the cost of her life, she allowed Wat to kill the latter, who had deserved such a death in punishment for all her cruelty.

When the ma.s.sacre was over, the victors celebrated their triumph by a grand banquet, at which Gudrun, fulfilling her boast, actually presided as queen.

"Now from the bitter contest the warriors rested all.

There came the royal Herwig into King Ludwig's hall, Together with his champions, their gear with blood yet streaming.

Dame Gudrun well received him; her heart with love was teeming."

_Gudrun_ (Dippold's tr.).

When the banquet was over, the Hegelings set sail, taking with them the recovered maidens, all the spoil they had won, and their captives, Hartmut and Ortrun; and on reaching Matelan they were warmly welcomed by Hilde, who was especially rejoiced to see her daughter once more.

"The queen drew near to Gudrun. Could any one outweigh The joy they felt together, with any wealth or treasure?

When they had kissed each other their grief was changed to pleasure."

_Gudrun_ (Dippold's tr.).

[Sidenote: A fourfold wedding.] Shortly after their return home a fourfold wedding took place. Gudrun married her faithful Herwig, Ortwine espoused Hildburg, Siegfried consoled himself for Gudrun's loss by taking the fair Ortrun to wife, and Hartmut received with the hand of Hergart, Herwig's sister, the rest.i.tution not only of his freedom but also of his kingdom.

At the wedding banquet Horant, who, in spite of his advanced years, had lost none of his musical skill, played the wedding march with such success that the queens simultaneously flung their crowns at his feet,--an offering which he smilingly refused, telling them that crowns were perishable, but that the poet's song was immortal.

"The aged minstrel drew his harp still closer to his breast, Gazed at the jeweled coronets as this thought he expressed: 'Fair queens, I bid you wear them until your locks turn gray; Those crowns, alas! are fleeting, but song will live alway.'"

NIENDORF (H.A.G.'s tr.).

CHAPTER III.

REYNARD THE FOX.

Among primitive races, as with children, animal stories are much enjoyed, and form one of the first stages in literature. The oldest of these tales current in the middle ages is the epic of Reineke Fuchs, or Reynard the Fox. This poem was carried by the ancient Franks across the Rhine, became fully acclimated in France, and then returned to Germany by way of Flanders, where it was localized.

After circulating from mouth to mouth almost all over Europe, during many centuries, it was first committed to writing in the Netherlands, where the earliest ma.n.u.script, dating from the eleventh or twelfth century, gives a Latin version of the tale.

[Sidenote: Origin of animal epics.] "The root of this saga lies in the harmless natural simplicity of a primeval people. We see described the delight which the rude child of nature takes in all animals,--in their slim forms, their gleaming eyes, their fierceness, their nimbleness and cunning.

Such sagas would naturally have their origin in an age when the ideas of shepherd and hunter occupied a great portion of the intellectual horizon of the people; when the herdman saw in the ravenous bear one who was his equal, and more than his equal, in force and adroitness, the champion of the woods and wilds; when the hunter, in his lonely ramble through the depths of the forest, beheld in the h.o.a.ry wolf and red fox, as they stole along,--hunters like himself,--mates, so to say, and companions, and whom he therefore addressed as such.... So that originally this kind of poetry was the exponent of a peculiar sort of feeling prevailing among the people, and had nothing whatever to do with the didactic or satiric, although at a later period satiric allusions began to be interwoven with it."

The story has been rewritten by many poets and prose writers. It has been translated into almost every European language, and was remodeled from one of the old mediaeval poems by Goethe, who has given it the form in which it will doubtless henceforth be known. His poem "Reineke Fuchs" has been commented upon by Carlyle and translated by Rogers, from whose version all the following quotations have been extracted.

[Sidenote: The animals' a.s.sembly.] As was the custom among the Franks under their old Merovingian rulers, the animals all a.s.sembled at Whitsuntide around their king, n.o.bel the lion, who ruled over all the forest. This a.s.sembly, like the Champ de Mars, its prototype, was convened not only for the purpose of deciding upon the undertakings for the following year, but also as a special tribunal, where all accusations were made, all complaints heard, and justice meted out to all. The animals were all present, all except Reynard the fox, who, it soon became apparent, was accused of many a dark deed. Every beast present testified to some crime committed by him, and all accused him loudly except his nephew, Grimbart the badger.

"And yet there was one who was absent, Reineke Fox, the rascal! who, deeply given to mischief, Held aloof from half the Court. As shuns a bad conscience Light and day, so the fox fought shy of the n.o.bles a.s.sembled.

One and all had complaints to make, he had all of them injured; Grimbart the badger, his brother's son, alone was excepted."

[Sidenote: Complaints against Reynard.] The complaint was voiced by Isegrim the wolf, who told with much feeling how cruelly Reynard had blinded three of his beloved children, and how shamefully he had insulted his wife, the fair lady Gieremund. This accusation had no sooner been formulated than Wackerlos the dog came forward, and, speaking French, pathetically described the finding of a little sausage in a thicket, and its purloining by Reynard, who seemed to have no regard whatever for his famished condition.

The tomcat Hintze, who at the mere mention of a sausage had listened more attentively, now angrily cried out that the sausage which Wackerlos had lost belonged by right to him, as he had concealed it in the thicket after stealing it from the miller's wife. He added that he too had had much to suffer from Reynard, and was supported by the panther, who described how he had once found the miscreant cruelly beating poor Lampe the hare.

"Lampe he held by the collar, Yes, and had certainly taken his life, if I by good fortune Had not happened to pa.s.s by the road. There standing you see him.

Look and see the wounds of the gentle creature, whom no one Ever would think of ill treating."

[Sidenote: Vindication of Reynard.] The king, n.o.bel, was beginning to look very stern as one after another rose to accuse the absent Reynard, when Grimbart the badger courageously began to defend him, and artfully turned the tables upon the accusers. Taking up their complaints one by one, he described how Reynard, his uncle, once entered into partners.h.i.+p with Isegrim. To obtain some fish which a carter was conveying to market, the fox had lain as if dead in the middle of the road. He had been picked up by the man for the sake of his fur, and tossed up on top of the load of fish.

But no sooner had the carter's back been turned than the fox sprang up, threw all the fish down into the road to the expectant wolf, and only sprang down himself when the cart was empty. The wolf, ravenous as ever, devoured the fish as fast as they were thrown down, and when the fox claimed his share of the booty he had secured, Isegrim gave him only the bones.[1] [Footnote 1: For Russian version see Guerber's Contes et Legendes, vol. i., p. 93.]

Not content with cheating his ally once, the wolf had induced the fox to steal a suckling pig from the larder of a sleeping peasant. With much exertion the cunning Reynard had thrown the prize out of the window to the waiting wolf; but when he asked for a portion of the meat as reward, he was dismissed with nothing but the piece of wood upon which it had been hung.

The badger further proceeded to relate that Reynard had wooed Gieremund seven years before, when she was still unmated, and that if Isegrim chose to consider that an insult, it was only on a par with the rest of his accusations, for the king could readily see that Reynard was sorely injured instead of being guilty.

Then, encouraged by the favorable impression he had produced, Grimbart airily disposed of the cases of Wackerlos and Hintze by proving that they had both stolen the disputed sausage, after which he went on to say that Reynard had undertaken to instruct Lampe the hare in psalmody, and that the ill treatment which the panther had described was only a little wholesome castigation inflicted by the teacher upon a lazy and refractory pupil.

"Should not the master his pupil Sometimes chastise when he will not observe, and is stubborn in evil?

If boys were never punished, were thoughtlessness always pa.s.sed over, Were bad behavior allowed, how would our juveniles grow up?"

These plausible explanations were not without their effect, and when Grimbart went on to declare that, ever since n.o.bel proclaimed a general truce and amnesty among all the animals of the forest, Reynard had turned hermit and spent all his time in fasting, almsgiving, and prayer, the complaint was about to be dismissed.