Tale XVII: How Hettel Came to the Wulpensand in Search of His Daughter

Ludwig, king of the Normans, and Hartmut, too, his son,Now, with all their followers, far away had gone,And on a lone, wild seashore, after their toil, were resting.Though many there were gathered, yet little happiness they then were tasting.

’Twas on a broad, low island, hight the Wulpensand,That now the brave King Ludwig, and they of the Norman land,Shelter for men and horses had found unto their liking;But a doom to them most woful erelong must come, instead of the rest they were seeking.

The very high-born maidens, torn from the Hegeling land,Had been led out, and wandered along the barren sand;So far as ’twas allowed them to show their feelings freely,They who had been stolen in sadness wept before the foeman daily.

Fires upon the seashore were seen on every side;The men from far-off Normandy were thinking there to abide.Gladly with the maidens would they seven days have rested,And there have made them lodgings; but every hope of this erelong was blasted.

While on this isle forsaken Hartmut now must stay,Loth were he and his followers the hope to put away,Which till now they fostered, that they for rest might tarryThroughout a week in the shelter whither they the maidens fair did carry.

It was from far-off Matelan that Ludwig and his bandThe fair Gu-drun had taken unto this lonely strand;Nor felt they now uneasy lest to their hidden dwellingWâ-te them should follow, and never harm from him were they foretelling.

Now saw King Ludwig’s sailors, tossing on the wave,A ship with sails the richest. To the king they warning gave;But when ’twas seen by Hartmut, and others with him standing,That on the sails were crosses, they said these must be pilgrims, bent on landing.

On the waters floating three good ships were seen,With new and well-made flatboats; they bore across the mainThose who on their clothing never yet wore crosses,Their love to God thus showing. The Normans must from them meet heavy losses.

As they the shore were nearing, one on the ships might seeHelmets brightly shining. No more from care were freeKing Ludwig and his kinsmen, and harm their fears foreboded:“Look there!” then shouted Hartmut; “with grimmest foes of mine these ships are loaded.”

The ships were turned so quickly that now men loudly heardRudders strained and cracking, held by those who steered.Both the young and aged, who on the sea-sands rested,Were indeed bewildered when to spring on shore the foeman hasted.

Ludwig and young Hartmut their shields in hand now bore.For them it had been easier to reach their homes once moreIf they had not too freely their rest on the island taken:They had falsely reckoned that Hettel had now no friends, and was all forsaken.

Ludwig called out loudly to all his trusty men,(He thought it child’s play only that he before had seen,)“Now with worthy foemen must I, at length, be striving!He shall be the richer who ’neath my flag his help to me is giving.”

Soon was Hartmut’s banner raised upon the shore.The ships had now come nearer; with spears the Normans boreTo reach the foe were easy from where they now were waiting:I ween the aged Wâ-te was ready with his shield, the foeman meeting.

Ne’er before so grimly did champions guard their land.Boldly the Hegeling warriors nearer pressed to the strand;Soon they met the Normans with sword and spear, undaunted;Blows they freely bartered: such bargains cheaply given no more they wanted.

Everywhere the Hegelings sprang upon the shore.After a wind from the hill-tops was never seen beforeSnow so thickly whirling as spears from hands that threw them:Though they had done it gladly idle it were to shun the strokes that slew them.

Thick fly the spears on both sides: the time but slowly goes,Till they on the beach are standing. Quickly on his foesSprang the aged Wâ-te, just as they were nearing;His mood was of the grimmest, and soon they saw what mind he now was bearing.

Ludwig, king of the Normans, then at Wâ-te ran,And hurled a spear well sharpened against the brave old man.The shaft, in splinters shattered, high thro’ air went crashing,For Ludwig drove it bravely; soon to the fight came Wâ-te’s kinsmen dashing.

With a heavy stroke, old Wâ-te Ludwig’s helmet cut;The edge of the sword he wielded the head of his foeman smote,Who beneath his breastplate a shirt of silk was wearing;(In Abalie ’twas woven;) were it not for this, his end he must be nearing.

Hardly from him could Ludwig with life and limb go free;The spot he would fain be leaving, for Wâ-te was ill to seeWhen he was roused to anger, and to win the day was trying:Struck by his hand were many, who, brave in warfare, now on the field lay dying.

Irold and young Hartmut each on the other sprang:On either side their weapons on the foeman’s helmet rang;Throughout the throng of fighters, all could hear it loudly;For bold in war was Irold, and Hartmut, too, was brave, and bore him proudly.

Herwic from the Sealands, a warrior strong and good,Could not reach the landing, but leaped into the flood,And in the waves was standing, up to his shoulders hidden.Soon to his cost was he learning how hard a task it is to win a maiden.

They the shore who guarded their foemen thought to drownWhile in the waters struggling. Shafts at them were thrown,And many on them broken; but they, their foes now seeking,Soon the sands were treading, and many a knight his wrath on them was wreaking.

Ere they had reached the shoreland, one saw the watery floodDyed by the killed and wounded, in hue as red as blood;Everywhere, so widely the reddened waves were flowing,One could not shoot beyond them, how far soe’er he might his spear be throwing.

Heavier toil and losses heroes never found,And never so many warriors lay trampled on the ground:Enough were they for a kingdom who lay, unwounded, dying.The Normans who o’erthrew them, on all sides too, I ween, in death were lying.

It was to save his daughter that there King Hettel fought,And all his kinsmen with him. On every side were wrought,By him and those who helped him, havoc and bitter sorrow.Dead on the Wulpensand were many bodies found before the morrow.

Unto their lords all faithful, they strove upon the sand,—Alike the men of Normandy and they of the Hegeling land.Warriors brave from Denmark fought with matchless daring;He ne’er should wait their onset who much for his welfare or his life was caring.

Morunc and with him Ortwin boldly held their ground,And for themselves won honor; nowhere could be foundMen who greater slaughter wrought, with hearts undaunted:The heroes twain, with their followers, gave full many wounds, with spears well planted.

Proudly the men from Moorland, as I have heard it said,When from their ships they landed, the way to the foemen led.Hettel hoped, in his struggle, help from them to be gaining,For they were daring fighters: one saw the blood beneath their helmets raining.

How could he who led them have braver or bolder been?That day he dimmed with life-blood many breastplates’ sheen;Siegfried it was, unyielding in storm of battle ever.How could the Danish Fru-te, or even Wâ-te the old, have shown them braver?

Thickly hurled were lances, hither and thither thrown:Ortwin, with his followers, in hopeful mood came on;Helmets that day he shattered, blows upon them dealing.Gu-drun was bitterly weeping: her women, too, were deepest sorrow feeling.

The strife, on both sides, lasted throughout the livelong day;Longing to reach each other, they crowded to the fray.There to knights and warriors must the fight go badly,Where the friends of Hettel to win his daughter back were striving gladly.

The evening sun sank lower; and for King Hettel nowHis losses grew the greater. King Ludwig’s men, I trow,Did their best in fighting, but could not flee the slaughter;Their foes they wounded deeply, and guarded thus Gu-drun from those who sought her.

The strife began at morning; by night alone ’twas stopped,And steadily had lasted; they ne’er their weapons dropped.The old and young together gained no shame in fighting.Now the brave King Hettel forward pressed, the king of the Normans meeting.