Wilhelm Wägner - Epics and Romances of the Middle Ages

Winds and waves were in their favour, and the army landed at a short distance from Constantinople. Whilst the men encamped in a wood, the king set out in peasant’s clothes to pick up all the news he could learn. After spending hours wandering about the city, and hearing nothing that was of any use to him, he chanced to meet Ortwin, a gaoler, and a former acquaintance of his. The man carried a basket filled with black bread. The hero went to him and asked him to give him a loaf for Wolfdieterich’s sake. The man looked at him keenly, and recognised him.

“Ah, sire,” he said, “things have gone badly here with us. The good old empress died during the siege of Lilienporte. When the fortress capitulated, the noble duke Berchtung and his sons were put in irons and flung into a dark and dismal dungeon. Death soon put an end to the old man’s pain, but the ten young lords are still kept in strict confinement, and I may bring them no better food than a daily supply of this black bread and water.”

Wolfdieterich was miserable when he thought that he was not without guilt with respect to his mother and his old friend. He could do nothing for them now, but he might still do something for the ten faithful servants who yet remained. He arranged with Ortwin that they should have better food, and should be cheered by the hope of a speedy deliverance. The old gaoler went on his way, and the king returned to his people.

He found his men already under arms, for they told him that Sabene had discovered not only that they were there, but what had brought them.

The armies met, and the battle raged long and furiously, without either side getting the better of the other. But at last the fortune of the day turned. The citizens of Constantinople rose in revolt against the tyranny that had ground them down so long, hastened to the prison, and set Berchtung’s ten brave sons at liberty. Having done this, they put themselves under their command, and marched to the assistance of Wolfdieterich. It was a glorious victory. The hero was proclaimed emperor on the battle-field.

Soon after their return to the capital, Sabene and the royal brothers were brought before their judges. The first was sentenced to death, and was at once led away to instant execution; the death of the two latter was likewise demanded by both people and army, and Wolfdieterich knew that they were guilty of causing the death of their mother and that of old Berchtung, and had brought upon him all the troubles and difficulties of his early youth. Yet he could not decide what was best to be done, and reserved judgment until the following day.

That night, as the victor slept the sleep of the just, his mother appeared to him in a dream, saintlike and beautiful in aspect. She said: “Spare my children, and my blessing shall rest on thee.”

And immediately Berchtung appeared at her side: “God has mercy upon His erring children; do not shed thy brothers’ blood.”

As the hero gazed at the apparitions in intense amazement, Liebgart joined them, and said gently: “Hast thou not gained kingdom, glory, and me, through the ill deeds of thy brothers? Return them, therefore, good for evil.”

Morning broke—the figures vanished, leaving Wolfdieterich resolved what he should do. He called the nobles together, and before them all pardoned Bogen and Waxmuth, restored them their dignities and lands, to be held thenceforth as great fiefs under him. At first no one approved of his clemency, but on hearing his explanation all were silenced.

As soon as his arrangements were completed, Wolfdieterich returned with his army to Lombardy, and was welcomed by Liebgart with the greatest joy. After resting there for awhile, he, his princes, and their followers went to Rome, where he was crowned emperor. At the feast which followed the coronation he appointed the ten sons of good Duke Berchtung to be rulers of great fiefs. Herbrand, the eldest, received Garden and its territory. Through his son Hildebrand, of whose valiant deeds we shall hear later on, he was the ancestor of the Wülfings. Hache was given Rhineland, with Breisach as his capital. His son Eckehart was the protector of the Harlungs, Imbreke, and Fritele. He is celebrated in song and story as the trusty Eckehart. Berchther, the third son, succeeded his father at Meran. The other sons were as well endowed, but not as famous as their brothers, so their names and possessions need not be told.

Wolfdieterich and Liebgart had a son, whom they named Hugdieterich after his grandfather. He grew up to be a mighty hero, and was the father of a valiant race.

In the good old times a mighty yarl (earl) ruled over the rich town and district of Salern, which was one of the largest fiefs of a great kingdom. The yarl governed so strictly and justly that peace and plenty cheered the hearts of all that dwelt in the district. He kept up a large army to defend his coasts from the onslaught of the Vikings, who often descended on them in great numbers in hopes of plunder.

Amongst the followers of the yarl was the warrior Samson, nicknamed “The Black,” because of his coal-black hair and beard. He was always the first in battle, and had even been known to disperse whole battalions with his single arm. He was terrible to look upon. His dark eyes flashed under heavy beetling brows. His bull-neck and powerful limbs bore witness to his remarkable strength. No one could withstand him in battle. He hewed men down, whether armed or unarmed, with as great ease as if they were made of touchwood. In private life, on the other hand, he was gentle and kindly, unless contradicted; then, indeed, he would keep silence, but would none the less carry out his own will, regardless of the cost to others. As can be readily imagined, few people ventured to oppose him without reason.

One day the yarl, who had just been made king, was sitting at a feast in celebration of a great victory. His warriors were round him sharing in his joy, Samson in their midst. Suddenly he rose, and, taking a cup of wine in his hand, offered it to the king, and said, with all courtesy:

“Sire, many a victory have I helped to gain for you, and now I come to offer you this cup and to ask you to grant me a boon.”

“Speak on, brave hero,” answered the king, “and tell me what you desire. Hitherto you have asked no reward for your great deeds of valour. What you already have was given of my good will, unasked by you. So demand what you like, I can deny you nothing.”

“Good, my lord,” said Samson. “I do not want any more castles or lands, I am rich enough; but I am very solitary at home, now that my mother has grown old and cross. Your daughter Hildeswid is a sweet little thing, and I should much like to make her my wife. Now you know how you can pleasure me by granting this request.”

Rodgeier was so astonished at this address that he nearly let the cup fall.

“You are a famous warrior,” he said; “but the maiden is of royal birth, and only a king can lead her home. You are in her service as well as mine. So take this plate of sweetmeats and bear it to her in the women’s house. Then come back here, and drown all memory of your strange request in a bowl of good wine.”

Samson took up the sweetmeats silently, and bore them to the princess, who was busy embroidering with her maids. He placed the dish before her, saying,—

“Eat, sweet one, for I bring you good news. You are to follow me to my home, and live there as my good wife. Dress now, and bid one of your maidens come with you.”

On seeing the girl’s hesitation, he added,—

“If you do not go willingly, you will force me to kill the yarl, and burn the palace, with all that are in it.”

He looked so fierce and grim as he spoke, that Hildeswid trembled with fear, and obeyed him without a word.