Part 6 (1/2)
From the union of Hettel and fair Hilde sprang two children: Ortwin and Gudrun, who even surpa.s.ses her mother in beauty. The Hegeling daughter is sought by the most powerful princes, but Hettel deems none worthy of his daughter. Hartmut, King of the Normans, when rejected, appears disguised at Hettel's court and reveals himself to Gudrun, who, feeling pity for the beautiful youth, advises him to flee from her father's wrath: ”His life would be done for, were Hettel to recognize him.”
Hartmut retires but to prepare for war, for once having seen charming Gudrun, he can no longer live without her. Meanwhile, Herwig of Seeland, a Frisian king, who had also been rejected, appears with three thousand heroes before Hettel's castle: he strikes the flaming wind from many a helmet. Fair Gudrun has never known such delight as that which the deeds of the brave heroes give; the sight of him is to her both love and sorrow. Herwig and Hettel meet in deadly combat, ”fiery glow flamed from their s.h.i.+elds, red wounds are struck,” until Gudrun intercedes in person; peace is concluded, and Herwig is betrothed to Gudrun.
The news of this engagement exasperates King Siegfried of Morland, who had sought vainly for Gudrun's hand. He invades Herwig's country, and Herwig in his extremity appeals to Gudrun, his betrothed. Her father, Hettel, with his men, goes to Herwig's aid. While he is thus engaged, Ludwig and Hartmut of Normandy, having learned through spies that the land of the Hegelings is denuded of men, sail with a powerful host to Hettel's land and soon advance upon the sunny castle of Hilde. Hartmut, unwilling to wrong his beloved Gudrun if she will accept his suit, announces his love to her, and threatens to carry her away by force if she resists. Gudrun replies that she belongs, body and soul, to Herwig and that she will never break faith with him. Ludwig and Hartmut storm the castle and carry away Gudrun and her sixty-two attendants, among them her best beloved companion, Hildeburg. Queen Hilde looks on with powerless tears and broken heart. She sends messengers to Hettel and Herwig, who conclude an honorable peace with King Siegfried, and with their new ally set out in pursuit of the Normans. At the mouth of the river Sheldt, on the island of Wulpensand, the Normans with their beautiful captive rest. Here they are overtaken by the Seelanders. The terrible battle that ensues has been sung in many lays throughout Germany. ”You'd see the heroes' bodies with glowing blood color the sea.
The waves flowed to the strand reddened everywhere.”
More and more Hegelings sink to the ground. Ludwig slays King Hettel: ”This was sorrowful tidings to many hearts.” When fierce Wate perceives his master's death, he begins to rage like a wild boar. Ortwin and Horant are beside themselves with rage and strive to avenge their fallen king, but night stops the carnage. The Normans succeed in reaching their s.h.i.+ps under the cover of darkness and in escaping with their hard-won booty. The Hegelings are so reduced in numbers that no further pursuit can be made. Wate brings the sad tidings to Queen Hilde in the desolate tower: ”No use to keep the calamity from you; I will not deceive you, they are all dead, our heroes.” Revenge must be postponed, ”until all those who now stand before us as children, have grown ripe for the sword; many a n.o.ble orphan will then be mindful of his father and will be a helper on the new journey.” But poor Hilde expresses her despair of the distant hope.
Meanwhile, the triumphant Normans approach the coast of their fatherland. King Ludwig, in sight of the towers of his castle, kindly reminds tearful Gudrun that all this beautiful land shall belong to her if she will marry Hartmut. This only increases her sorrow: ”Ere I'll take Sir Hartmut, I shall rather be dead. His is not of a house that I could love him. I'll lose life rather than win him as my friend.”
Incensed at her bitter words, Ludwig seizes the princess by the hair and hurls her into the foaming sea. But loving Hartmut springs after her, rescues her and places her with tender care in his boat. At the landing Queen Gerlinde and her daughter Ortrun with their attendants hasten to welcome the Norman heroes and fair Gudrun, who accepts Ortrun's kiss, but refuses that of the old queen, knowing well that the latter is the source of all her misfortunes, and having a presentiment of the greater evils that threatened her. As she continues to cling to her betrothed, Herwig, and defies the advances of Hartmut, whose father had slain hers, Gerlinde undertakes to break her pride while Hartmut is absent upon a new expedition. But the young king entreats his mother before his departure ”to instruct the poor, homeless princess in all kindness.”
This the queen attempts, but as Gudrun persists in her refusal, Gerlinde is enraged and exclaims: ”If thou wilt not have joy, sorrow shall be thy share.” Thereafter, she subjects Gudrun to a series of humiliations.
First, she is separated from her n.o.ble playmates, who are condemned to spin and do other womanly handiwork. The royal virgin herself is forced to perform the most servile work, she is obliged to heat the stoves, to wash the linen, and to sweep the floor, this last with her silken hair; she is chastised by Gerlinde, she is fed on black bread and water, and her couch is a hard bench. Ortrun's sisterly affection for Gudrun is the only bright spot in her gloomy existence. Hartmut's love and the protection which he vowed to her at first, finally turn to impatience, and he abandons her to the unmitigated ill treatment of her tormentor, Queen Gerlinde, by whom Gudrun is condemned to perpetual servitude and shame. Gudrun's n.o.ble attendant, Hildeburg, by piteous entreaty obtains permission to partic.i.p.ate in the grievous work of her royal mistress.
For nearly six years they wash Gerlinde's garments in the sea, in wind and storm, in snow and ice. But Gudrun's pure and faithful heart remains unshaken.
Thirteen years have now pa.s.sed since the terrible events on the Wulpensand. The boys of the land of the Hegelings have grown to be men.
Queen Hilde, unforgetful of the captivity of her daughter Gudrun, and of her duty to avenge King Mattel's death, summons her heroes and friends and allies, foremost among whom is Herwig, to an expedition against the Normans. A strong fleet is armed; some sixty thousand men follow Hilde's summons. Horant of Denmark is the leader of the fleet. After a stormy pa.s.sage the coast of Normandy is reached. The allies land unnoticed under the cover of mountain and forest, safe from the observation of the spies. Ortwin, Gudrun's brother, and Herwig, her betrothed, go forward as scouts.
Following the natural order of events, we now pa.s.s in the grand epic to the romantic element, the lyrical _intermettfp_ of longing and love, of truth and faith, to the realm of hope and consolation. All the virtues and charms of the Teutonic woman's nature are revealed in Gudrun: superhuman agencies intervene for her deliverance. One day Gudrun and Hildeburg stand on the strand of the sea, occupied with their customary menial work of was.h.i.+ng, in strange contrast to the same womanly occupation of the Grecian princess Nausicaa and her n.o.ble attendants in the Odyssey, where everything is brightness and delight, when they suddenly perceive a beautiful bird swimming toward them. It is a divine messenger, who brings them glad tidings, p.r.o.nounced with a human voice:
”Be ready, homeless maid, a lofty happiness awaits thee; G.o.d sends me for thy comfort to this strand.” He satisfies her longing questions, tells her that Hilde lives, and of the hosts and the fleet she has sent out for Gudrun's rescue, of Ortwin and Herwig and all the rest of her liberators. Then the mysterious bird disappears, and the two princesses are left in suspense. They forget their work, and must therefore at their return endure the bitter chidings of Gerlinde, who sends them forth the next morning to the same work, to which they go barefooted and clothed only in their s.h.i.+rts, though heavy snow covers the fields, and ice dams the waterways. Well might they then send out their longing glances over the sea whence are to come the messengers whom the queen Hilde has sent for their rescue. Suddenly they perceive two men approaching in a boat. Ashamed of their servile work, and still more of their nakedness, they flee, but Herwig and Ortwin call them back and offer their mantles to the unknown and beautiful servants, who tremble from cold, in their wet s.h.i.+rts, their locks flying in the sharp wind.
Modestly they refuse to accept the mantles of the men. Ortwin inquires the name of the person who has subjected them to such cruel work. Herwig looks in silent amazement at the beautiful, the glorious, the royal woman in her degradation; ”the hero compared her to one whom he cherished in true memory.”
When Ortwin further inquires after the n.o.ble women, especially Gudrun, who many years ago had been dragged into Normandy, she replies: ”Gudrun died in sorrow,” a characteristic reply which proves that in the ancient Germanic world, as well as in that of Greece, a cunning little lie was not amiss even in the mouth of a charming princess. When the tears well forth from the eyes of the heroes, another trait of the ancient Germanic past as well as of the Greek, and Herwig draws forth the betrothal ring of yore, Gudrun says, smiling:
”'Well do I know this ringlet, betimes it came from me; Behold now this one, warriors, by Herwig sent to me, When I, abandoned orphan, lived in my father's land.'”
Overwhelmed by joy, Herwig clasps his beloved Gudrun in his arms to carry her away at once, but proud Ortwin wil! not s.n.a.t.c.h her away stealthily from the enemy; and Herwig promises to stand, before the sun rises in the morning, before the gates of the Norman city with sixty thousand chosen warriors. The maidens follow with their eyes the departing heroes till their boat vanishes in the mist.
Gudrun exults over the thought of their approaching liberation. Her entire nature seems to change. From the patient, enduring, humble, martyr-like, though constant and faithful, maiden, she changes to a proud, self-a.s.serting queen. Angrily she hurls the linen, the symbol of her humiliation, into the flood; she is too highly placed; she declares to the warning, anxious friend Hildeburg that she will never wash again for Gerlinde, for two kings have kissed her and held her in their arms.
When, at their late arrival at the castle, Gerlinde receives them with harsh words, asks for the linen, and learns that Gudrun has thrown it into the sea, the she-wolf as she is called here in the epic orders thorn rods to be tied together to chastise Gudrun. But the cunning maiden, who, as we have seen, does not shrink from a needful little lie, escapes by a clever ruse:
”'Release me from chastis.e.m.e.nt, you'll gladly do it sure; For whom I have rejected, I choose now for my lord; As queen will I reside in the Normanish fields; In power I shall perform deeds: you'll scarcely trust your eyes.”
Gerlinde immediately informs her son Hartmut of Gudrun's decision; but when he hastens to the spot to embrace her, she declines, saying:
”'O King Hartmut, leave this yet undone!
If people saw this action, it would be your dishonor; I am a lowly servant, how would it be befitting, Were a mighty king to embrace me or to touch me?'”
Overjoyed, Hartmut orders Gudrun and her maidens to be clothed in costly garments and to be regaled royally; and for the first time in fourteen years Queen Gudrun laughs merrily among her Hegeling sisters, who are overcome by the sudden change of events. The report of Gudrun's merriment causes Gerlinde a presentiment of evil; she warns her son, but he has no eyes or ears but for Gudrun's charms. When the maidens retire for the first time in fourteen years to a soft couch, Gudrun reveals to them the fact that help and salvation are near, and promises ”buroughs and acres” to her who will first announce to her the morning which shall bring to them the day of freedom and of revenge.
Meanwhile, Herwig and Ortwin return to their host and relate to the companions Gudrun's and Hildeburg's fate. Old Wate proposes to attack the Normans without delay, and ”to wash red the white garments which their white hands had washed in the sea.” ”Before dawn they shall stand as guests before King Ludwig's fortress.” And, indeed, at the rising of the morning star, one of Gudrun's maidens sees from the window the fields s.h.i.+ning with arms and the sea filled with sails. Quickly she awakes Gudrun, while at the same time the king's warders cry from the battlements:
”'Get up, ye proud heroes, get up, hosts, to your arms: Brave Normans, all too long, methinks, have you slept.'”
The masterly description of the terrific battle, which is worthy of the best traditions of the German epic, does not belong to this work. Yet the gathering of the Hegelings around Queen Hilde's banner, King Herwig's bride standing high on the battlement of the tower, while King Hartmut and the Norman heroes march under the arch of the gate are objective pictures showing that the womanly element is the pivot upon which the story turns.
When old King Ludwig is slain by Herwig, the she-wolf, Gerlinde, sends out a murderer to kill Gudrun, but Hartmut generously saves her mindful of the beloved one even in the stress of battle. When Hartmut himself is on the point of succ.u.mbing under the blows of Wate, Gudrun, softened by Ortrun's prayer, sends out Herwig to intercede in Hartmut's behalf. Wate scornfully refuses, but Herwig, from his love for Gudrun, covers the enemy with his own body, and Hartmut is s.n.a.t.c.hed away and carried into captivity with eighty of his knights. The contrast of this battle with its many traits of love and compa.s.sion, even for the enemy, of self-restraint and humanity, to similar scenes in the _Nibelungenlied_ with its ruthless, merciless, savage l.u.s.t of blood and revenge, is strikingly apparent.
Gerlinde, in miserable fear of death, seeks at last a refuge with Gudrun. The latter is willing to save her old tormenter, but Gerlinde is betrayed to Wate by one of her servants. Wate, who has many of the traits of Hagen in the _Nibelungenlied_, seizes her, wildly exclaiming in fearful wrath, yet using her royal t.i.tle: