The Childhood of King Erik Menved: An Historical Romance

by Bernhard Severin Ingemann

  THE CHILDHOOD OF ERIK MENVED.

  PART I.

  One evening in the month of May, 1285, a crowd of seamen andporpoise-hunters was assembled on the quay of Gremermarsh, belowHindsgavl's meadows, near Middelfert. They regarded, with strainedattention, a large skiff which had left Snoghoj, and was strugglingagainst wind and tide to approach the quay, where the landing was lessdangerous than in the bad haven of the town. A storm, unusual at thismild period of the year, stirred up the unquiet waters of the LittleBelt. The more experienced ferrymen shook their heads, and thought itwas most advisable that the skiff should seek shelter under Fanoe orthe Jutland Weald.

  "Nonsense, fellows!" said a deep, gruff voice; "here they can andshall land. They get on bravely, and must have a gallant steersman onboard. But why stand you here prating? Set light to the brandon the quay-head, that they may keep it in sight; and lay out theporpoise-boats, that we may fish them up, should they be capsized."

  The man who gave these orders was foreman of the ferrymen andporpoise-hunters, old Henner Friser, or Henner Hjulmand, as he wassometimes called. He had hitherto been quietly seated on a large stone,observing the vessel's motions with a keen look; but now he rose like aking among his subjects, and the submissiveness with which they heard,as well as the activity with which they obeyed him, sufficiently showedthe respect in which he was held among these sturdy, daring seamen. Hewas uncommonly tall and muscular, and, notwithstanding that he borderedupon seventy years, appeared to possess sufficient vigour to enable himto attain the age of fourscore. He boasted of being a brother's son ofthe renowned Frisian, Swain Starke, who, in the time of Waldemar theVictor, gained a great name among his countrymen.

  For three and thirty years, Henner Friser had resided in Middelfert, orMelfert, as it is commonly called, where he had set on foot the fishingor hunting of porpoises, and, by his ability, had obtained presidencyin the guild of these daring fishers, who, at the same time, attendedto the ferrying over of passengers. He was skilled in the art ofboat-building, and, in his youth, had been a wheel-maker, whence hisby-name of Hjulmand (wheelman), although he no longer followed thatoccupation. That he had taken an active part in the civil wars underErik Ploughpenny and King Abel was generally believed, and contributedmuch to his importance among the seamen, although he always expressedhimself cautiously on the subject. He appeared to have forsaken themarshy shores of Friesland for a reason which he was proud of, and yetdid not find it prudent to talk about; but that it was for some boldand daring act was surmised by everybody.

  In his spacious dwelling near the ship-quay of Middelfert, thefraternity of porpoise-hunters had a place of deposit for their largecaptures between Martinmas and Candlemas. There met the new guild ofKing Erik; and there had Henner Friser established, likewise, a kind ofinn for travellers, of which he had sole and sovereign control. Here,when the porpoise-hunters held their guildmotes, they often regardedwith awe the old warrior's armour, which consisted of a kind of longjavelin, a Danish battle-axe, a steel bow, with a rusty arrow, togetherwith a light linen harness. In his everyday dress, old Henner was notdistinguished from the other ferrymen and porpoise-hunters. Like them,he wore a short jerkin of blue wadmel, or of dark canvass in summer; apair of large wading boots, which came high over the knees; andover his shaggy gray locks he wore, both summer and winter, a largeseal-skin cap. His long wrinkled visage was expressive of energy andharshness of manner; and his keen look evinced a determination and afeeling of superiority, which operated strongly on all his subjects,whose esteem and attachment to him was, at the same time, blendedwith what was peculiar to these people--an unusual dread of strife.This was, perhaps, chiefly owing to his extraordinary strength, ofwhich, even in advanced years, he had given astonishing proofs;and he could even now, without exertion, compel the strongest of theporpoise-hunters to bend on their knees, merely by pressing his handsupon their shoulders.

  A word from this man was sufficient to set all the idle spectators inmotion. A light soon blazed on the large stone at the pier's end, andthirty hardy fishermen were at work, with ropes and poles, to launch alarge boat, for the purpose of rendering assistance to those indistress. As soon as Henner Friser saw that his orders were punctuallyexecuted, he again seated himself quietly, and with an air ofindifference, upon his stone.

  "It must be another cargo of nobles for the Danish court on the dayafter to-morrow," he muttered. "Should Duke Waldemar be among them, itwere, perhaps, better for kingdom and country, that we let them go tothe bottom, neck and crop."

  "Why so, neighbour Henner?" inquired a burgher who stood by his side,and whose leather apron, leather cap, and smutty face, proclaimed him asmith. "The young duke is a discreet and gracious nobleman: he oncebought a dagger of me, and paid me twice as much for it as I asked.Every time he comes this way, you earn more dollars than I earnshillings in a month; and then he talks so civilly to folks, that it isa pleasure to hear him."

  "Gold and silver and fair words he does not spare; that we allow,"growled the old man; "and if, by so doing, he could throw dust in theeyes of every Dane, in twelvemonths and a day he might, perhaps, beKing of Denmark."

  "Marry, then! think you that his thoughts run so high?" inquired thearmourer, hastily, scratching his ear; "there may be something in it:who knows how it may turn out? The old king, Waldemar the Victor, wascertainly his great-grandfather; the young lord is just twenty yearsold: he may come to be chosen king one day. But there is time enoughfor that yet," he added; and, after a little reflection: "our king isstill a young man: according to my reckoning, he cannot be more thansix and thirty now; and his young son, who succeeds him--let me see--hecan be scarcely eleven yet. Nay, nay, it is not to be thought of."

  "What cares the grandson of King Abel about that, think you?" repliedthe old man, in a tone of bitterness. "The young braggart does not wantdaring. He had scarcely cut his colt's-teeth, when he set himself inopposition to the king, and would submit himself neither to rod norsnaffle; and now it is said for certain, that he will claim the wholekingdom; and, if he does not receive from the court of Denmark what heaims at, that he will instantly bring down the Swedes upon our heads.We have already to thank him for the present outbreak with theNorwegians. Nay, nay--he is a fellow we must look after, neighbourTroels. We knew his grandfather; and the race of a fratricide no Daneshall trust again."

  The old man was silent, and became absorbed in deep thought.

  "You may well say that, neighbour Henner," resumed the armourer; "wehave experienced disasters enough, and may well cross ourselves when wethink on what has happened in the country since old King Waldemar Seierclosed his eyes. His sons, all three, were kings,[1] as was said andpredicted to him; but God shield us from such kings and from such ends!In troth, it is awful to think of: I have not yet reached mythreescore, and the present king is the fifth I can remember; and threeof these, one after the other, were miserably murdered."

  "Murdered?" repeated Henner Friser. "Nay, neighbour--that was the casewith two only of Waldemar's sons, if it be true, as people say, aboutour king's father and the condemned priest in the New Cloister. Godforgive me, and all good Christians, their sins! but priests should bepious men of God; and, when they can forgive kings and princes withGod's own holy body, then the worst murder of a layman by sword ordagger should be reckoned next to nothing. Nay, two only were murdered,neighbour," he continued, after a thoughtful pause, and rising up;"nobody shall say that King Abel was murdered: he fell by his ownconduct, and shamefully enough for himself; but still in open warfarewith true and valiant subjects, who would not suffer themselves to beflayed by the coward who had murdered his brother, and deprived us ofour lawful king."

  The old man's voice waxed loud, and he spoke with great vehemence. Heappeared to observe a tendency to the same in his neighbour's manner,and remarked, in a subdued tone, "We must not talk too loud about thismatter, neighbour. These are unquiet times, and traitors are abroad.Shou
ld Duke Waldemar and the great nobles come to rule, we shall haveto listen to a new tale, which may be worse than the first." Henner wasagain silent, and resumed his seat, in deep thought.

  "I must say, nevertheless, neighbour Henner," began the armourer anew,"that there is nothing so bad, that it may not be good for something.If the nobles had not courage to lay restraints on King ErikChristopherson, mischief would be the result, for both gentle andsimple. It were sin to say our king is not severe enough, as he imposespenalties on both burgher and peasant; but he cares for neither law norjustice; and was compelled, last year, to a compact respecting therights and liberties of the kingdom. Much has not come of that yet: andhad not Marsk Andersen denounced him, and put him in terror of hislife, at the last Thing[2] at Viborg, none of us at present could havesaid that his wife or daughter was safe from him."

  "That is true, neighbour," replied old Henner, waking up as if from adream, and appearing only to hear the latter sentence. "A vile storywas that, regarding Stig Andersen's wife; and I will say that, had Ibeen in the marsk's[3] stead, I would, perhaps, have done somethingmore than merely threaten. And yet--the Lord preserve our king and hisson, say I, for the kingdom and country's sake! The father is good fornothing: others may call him a villain; yet God preserve the rottenstem, for the sake of the fresh shoot! The little Erik has WaldemarSeier's eagle eyes; and, should the Lord keep his hand over him, it mayyet be worth an honest man's while to live in Denmark. It is afortunate thing for him, and for the kingdom, that he has the braveDrost[4] Hessel for his instructor in the use of arms. Without PeterHessel, old John Little, and David Thorstenson, it would be alamentable case for all of us."

  "If the handsome young drost stand as well with the queen as isreported," observed the smith, smiling, "no wonder he takes so kindlyto the young prince. He may be a wise and virtuous man; but littlehuman frailties he must possess, as others do; and, when King Glip-eyehas eyes for every other woman but the queen only, she cannot begreatly blamed for being so willing to ride a-hunting with the youngdrost."

  "So you, too, believe the damnable tittle-tattle!" cried the old man,with vehemence and indignation. "I have seen Queen Agnes once, andDrost Peter twice only: that was in the guild of our murdered KingErik; and, if it be true, as I believe, that every woman's child bearsits character in its open eyes--and I have so read the characters ofboth high and low, for these seventy years past--our queen, on thispoint, is as pure, in God's sight, as is the sun; and so is Drost PeterHessel--a man who, in all respects, would sooner lose his life thanforget the oath he openly swore in our guild, or in any way betray hiscountry or the royal house. But so it is: when the head is good fornothing, the whole body soon bears witness to it; and King ErikChristopherson does not blink with his small buck-eyes for nothing."

  "I believe, neighbour Henner, you can read more in an eye than many apriest can in his big book; and people with reason hold you tounderstand somewhat more than your paternoster. You have given a goodreason, too," continued the smith, smiling, "why you lock up yourpretty little Aase, every time King Glip-eye comes over the Belt. I sawvery well how she stood in the pantry yesterday, while the king mountedhis horse outside, before you."

  "Ay, then, saw you that, my good Troels?" replied the old warrior,somewhat ruffled. "It was a piece of foolery; and I shall tell you howit happened. He saw her once, and paid her a little more attention thanI exactly care for. She is my granddaughter, and the apple of my eye,as you know. That I lock the cage when the cat is in the room, followsof course; otherwise I should have to take the biggest tom-cat by theneck, and throw him out of the window, if he proved saucy. It comes tothis, that my little Aase, as you may, perhaps, have observed, is aSunday's bairn:[5] that may easily be seen in her complexion. She issomewhat palefaced; and, however blithe and sprightly she may be, sheis, nevertheless, now and then troubled with a kind of dreaming fit.But that will wear off as she gets older. Her mother was so troubledbefore her; and I believe it runs in the family, as I am not entirelyfree from it myself. I do not give much heed to such dreaming now; butshe has never yet said anything, while in this state, that has notproved in a manner true; though she can discern nothing, by night orday, more than others may do when they are in their senses."

  "My God! is it not quite right with your little Aase?" asked the smith,sympathisingly, and pointing with his finger to his forehead.

  "She is too sagacious for her years," answered the old man; "and thatwill not do for this world. But when once she is married, and has othermatters to think of, this will pass over; and in other respects she hasa good sound constitution. But this is what I was about to tell you.Last night, she rose in her sleep, and came to me: she was frightened,and said that the king had returned from hunting, with a death's headunder his hat, and wanted to come in to her. I awoke her, and then sheknew nothing of the dream. She laughed, and skipped carelessly to bed.I was much inclined to frighten her about what she had told me; but,yet I did not want the king to see her yesterday, when he crossed mythreshold to change his garments; and so I locked her up, as if bymistake."

  "This only helps you a little way, my good, careful neighbour,"observed the smith, with a sly laugh. "A good hen can lay an egg amongnettles; where there is a will there is a way. The king saw her verywell: when he rode off, your grand-daughter, from curiosity, peeped outbetween the bars of your pantry, just as the king's horse made a springon one side. I saw, by the blink of his eye, that he had perceived her;and twice he looked behind him towards the little window, after she hadwithdrawn her charming little face."

  "Nonsense, nonsense!" growled the old man. "It shall not happen again,I warrant you. You must not talk about this matter, neighbour. It isnothing in itself, but would soon give rise to gossip. I shall bequiet, for the child's sake. So, now let the matter drop."

  "But what does the king's chamberlain still do in the village? askedthe smith.

  "Chamberlain Rane!" exclaimed Henner, starting: "did he not follow theking yesterday?"

  "He did, certainly; but, early this morning, I saw him, and twomen-at-arms of the king's, go by your house. They stopped under the endwindow, and whispered together, and, as we came out, I saw their horsesat your back gate."

  "So, indeed!" muttered the old man. He arose hastily, his eyes flashingfire, and observed, "You might as well have told me this before,neighbour."

  "I thought they might have business with you, my good Henner. You arenot wont to be communicative, and one gets sick of asking questions."

  Old Henner cast a sharp look once more over the raging Belt. "The skiffis saved," he said, in a subdued tone, which betrayed violentlysuppressed emotions. "They have caught the warp. Come, neighbour, thereis no time to lose here any longer, when I have such guests at home."

  With long, hurried steps, the vigorous old man strode away in thedirection of his house, which was situated in that part of Middelfertwhich bordered on the quay, and about three quarters of a mile from thequay of Gremermarsh. The sturdy armourer, though ten years his junior,could scarcely keep pace with him. Neither of them spoke, until theycame to a by-path, leading across a waste field towards Henner Friser'spremises. Here he stopped, and looked carefully before him, in thedirection of the gable window of his house, which, in the deepeningtwilight, he could just perceive. Large clouds were continually drivenby the storm before the moon, which, at this instant, shone on thehouse gable.

  "Ha! no light?" he exclaimed: "this will not do." He redoubled hissteps, but suddenly stopped again, exclaiming, "do you not hear thetramp of horses, neighbour, on the road to Hegness Wood?"

  "Ay, certainly," was the reply; "who can it be? The people are in ahurry. Can the king's bailiff at Hegness receive guests from Melfert solate?"

  "Go to my house, neighbour; see if my Aase is at home, and taking careof the guild brethren. If she be not at home, and I do not return, tellthem which way I am gone. I am merely a little curious."

  With these words, he sprang in an opposite direction towards the highroad, and, from th
ence, over two ditches and fences, into a by-roadleading from Middelfert to Hegness Wood, which the riders he had heardin the neighbourhood of the town must necessarily turn down, if theyattended to their safety. Without himself being entirely conscious ofit, he had drawn out the large knife used in pursuit of the porpoise,which he always carried in his right boot. With this knife in his hand,he stood still a moment, in a ditch, on one side of the narrow road,which he could half reach across with his long arm. He could hear thegallop of horses, continually drawing nearer, and could now distinctlyrecognise the clattering hoofs of three.

  "Now, give the horses breath for a gallant ride to the castle!" cried aman's piping voice: "we are safe now, and here the road is good. Thenfor a bold rush to the fortress, before the old Satan can have returnedfrom the quay."

  "Death and hell!" muttered the old man; "that was long ChamberlainRane's cracked pipe."

  "You know the sign and password?" continued the same voice: "in theking's name, and three blows with your halberds on the door. If any oneoppose us, cut him down: I take the consequences."

  The listener thought he heard a wailing sound, as if from ahalf-suffocated female voice, which was lost in the howling of thestorm; and his keen eye recognised, by the glimmer of the moon, thewhite dress of a woman fluttering over the saddle, before the middlerider. They now advanced at a gallop. At one bound the old man stood inthe middle of the way.

  "Hold!" he cried, with a terrible voice, as the horsemen came up. Thelong hunting-knife glittered in his right hand, while, with the left,he seized the reins of the middle horse. The animal wheeled andsnorted; and a blow from a sword struck the old warrior on the leftarm; but, with a convulsive grasp, he held firm the bridle, and gropedin the dark with the knife, for fear of injuring the female form thathung, apparently in a swoon, on the horseman's left arm.

  "Forward, in the devil's name! cut him down!" again cried the squeakingvoice from behind.

  The old man felt a wound in the shoulder, and, at the same moment,received a violent blow from the horse's fore leg. The bridle droppedfrom his hands; he fell to the ground; and the horse sprang over him.With desperate strength, he half raised himself, and flung his knife,with whizzing rapidity, after the nearest horseman. He heard thepiercing shriek of a man, and, at a little distance, the indistinctvoice of his dear Aase, crying, "Help, grandfather! help!" till it waslost in the storm, and in the clatter of the horses' hoofs. Faint withloss of blood, the old man fell back unconscious. Twenty paces fromhim, on the dark road, arose the groans of a dying man; and afrightened horse, with an empty saddle, bounded away across the fields.

  For some time, Henner Friser lay insensible on the road. When he againbecame conscious, he heard several voices around him. He opened hiseyes, and found himself encircled by his hardy friends, the youngporpoise-hunters. They stood with lights and cudgels in their hands,together with his neighbour the armourer, and some burghers from thetown, who came to his assistance, with perplexed and sympathisingexclamations.

  Seated on a tall, iron gray stallion, in the middle of the road, was ayoung knight, in a scarlet mantle, fringed with sable, and with a whitefeather in his hat. By the knight's side, holding, in one hand a torch,and, with the other, a norback[6] by the bridle, stood a little,swarthy squire. The storm was now lulled, and the torch burned clear inthe still air, illuminating the anxious, noisy group.

  "Look here, one of you. What is the matter? Are there rievers in thedistrict? Has Niels Breakpeace come over?"

  "Rievers, truly, my noble knight," answered old Henner, raisinghimself, with the help of the young fishermen, who, in all haste, hadalready bound up his arm and shoulder, and now withheld their clamourfrom respect to their senior and the distinguished stranger. "Thecowardly pack!" continued Henner; "they have forcibly carried off mygrandchild, my little Asse, my only joy and comfort. Had I not beenafraid of killing the innocent child, all the three scoundrels wouldhave been grovelling, with their faces in the dust, where I now lie. Ifyou would know to what rieving band they belong, sir knight, you haveonly to ride some twenty paces forward, to find one of them with myhunting-knife in his back-ribs. I wish only, for the crown andcountry's sake, it may turn out to be Niels Breakpeace, and no moredistinguished scoundrel." He could scarcely speak for passion.

  "An abduction?" inquired the knight, "and with force and violence?rievers, too?"

  "Panderers, traffickers in souls, devils damned!" exclaimed the oldman; "but if you are a true Danish knight, help me to save my poorinnocent child. She has been carried to the hell-viper on the Ness,yonder, to be polluted."

  "To Hegness?" inquired the knight, turning pale; and the torchlightfell on his youthful, handsome countenance.

  "Whom see I? Drost Peter Hessel?" broke forth the old man, suddenly,glad to meet him; "is it you, indeed? Now praised be St. Christian andthe Holy Erik, that they have sent you to me, in my need and trouble,for now we shall soon deliver the lamb from the den of wolves, evenshould King Glip-eye be in the midst of them!"

  "Think what you say, old man," interposed the knight, sternly: "do notmix up the king in this vile business. If there has been anyscoundrel's work here, I shall inquire into it in the king's name, anddo you justice. If your wounds will permit you, seat yourself on mysquire's horse, and follow me to the fortress. I shall prove to you andthese good countrymen, that the king is not a protector of cowards androbbers. But where is the man you have slain? He deserves his fate,whoever he is."

  "Here! here!" cried the young fishermen, who had already discovered thebody, and were dragging it along; "here we have the fellow, as stiff asa speared sea-hog. This is a capital weapon!"

  The knight observed the corpse attentively, and appeared to be seizedwith painful surprise. He had been a tall, broad-shouldered fellow,with bristly hair and beard; he wore a scarlet doublet; his morion,which had fallen from his head, and which was now exhibited by one ofthe fishermen, had no feather, but was marked with the two royal lions.

  "This is a coward and a riever, who has stolen the helm and doublet ofone of the royal guard," said the knight, sternly. "Pull off hisdoublet, countrymen! Let him no longer wear our king's colours! Draghim to a dung-pit, and there hide his infamy, till doomsday! And nowlet us off to Hegness."

  Old Henner no longer felt the smart of his wounds; he was already inadvance, on the little pony, which could scarcely bear him, but yet goton tolerably well with his burden, the heavy feet of his rider almosttouching the ground.

  "Bravo! my little norback!" cried the bold squire, who in a few boundshad overtaken Henner and his master; "if you can run with such a karl,you deserve a double fodder."

  By the knight's command, some of the fishermen had already dragged theslain robber to a height by the wayside, where stood a gallows; whilstthe others, at a little distance, followed the knight and their woundedchief.

  "How far have we to the castle?" inquired the knight; "can you hold outthe journey, my brave old man?"

  "For my child, I could ride now to the world's end," answered Henner:"had the losel who gave me the blow not been a blundering lout, withoutpith or metal, he might have laid it on to some purpose; a pair of vilescratches he has given me: he shall not brag that it was he who struckHenner Friser to the ground; it was his brave Jutland stallion thatkicked me below the short-ribs. Now that the pain is gone, I can runbetter than this little fellow. Thanks for the loan, my son," he saidto the squire, as he leaped off the pony. "We have not a quarter of amile to the castle, and I may almost as well walk as sit upon thefoal."

  "You shall not find fault with my norback because he is small,"answered the young squire, offended: "he can vie with a roebuck whenoccasion serves, but he is certainly not an elephant to carry a tower."

  "Now, now, are you angry, my son? If you can ride so fleetly, let mesee you reach the rievers' nest before we others, and get the gatesopen for us. 'In the king's name!' was the rascals' pass-word, andthree knocks upon the door was the sign. The road goes right throughthe wood."

  Withou
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