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 woeful
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 tarry
Throughout a week in the shelter
whither they the maidens fair did carry.
It was from far-off Matelan
that Ludwig and his band
The fair Gudrun had taken
unto this lonely strand;
Nor felt they now uneasy
lest to their hidden dwelling
Wâ-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 main
Those 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 see
Helmets brightly shining.
No more from care were free
King 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 heard
Rudders 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 more
If 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 bore
To 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 before
Snow 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 foes
Sprang 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 see
When 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 drown
While 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 flood
Dyed 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 found
Men 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.
Gudrun 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 now
His 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 Gudrun 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.