King Eric and the Outlaws, Vol. 3
CHAP. X.
By the first peep of dawn, all was joyous commotion at HelsingborgCastle. Every Danish courtier and knight knew the punctuality andimpetuosity of the young king, when it was necessary to be stirring atan early hour, even only on occasion of a hunting expedition. Everyknight and squire who had not foot in stirrup, when the king was in thesaddle, might expect a stern glance or a serious rebuke. On this solemnand important day, to which the attention of both kingdoms was turned,and which had been so ardently desired by Eric, it seemed as if the sunalone dared to put his patience to the proof. Ere day-break, the king'shandsome horses, with their silken coverings and caparisons, stoodalready saddled in the court-yard of the castle; the richly-attiredknights, clad in silk or plush, thronged gaily together, and hardly hadthe sun-beams of the first day of June shone upon the glittering bridaltrain, before Eric, leading his royal mother by the hand, stepped forthon the staircase of the upper story, and bowed courteously on allsides. He followed Countess Agnes to the ladies' car, with his headuncovered, and then vaulted into the saddle. His handsome and youthfulcountenance beamed with hope and heartfelt joy, and he seemed to haveslept off every gloomy and disquieting thought. Arrayed in his mostsplendid knight's attire, with a rose-coloured shoulder-scarf over hisshoulder, and with white ostrich feathers in his hat, he rode aspirited milk-white palfrey. His blithe stepfather, Count Gerhard, rodeat his right hand, and Junker Christopher at his left. Even the junkerseemed in a gay mood, but became grave, and coloured when the kingwaved his hand and greeted him with a cordiality of look and gesturewhich appeared to surprise and humble him. The gilded car, drawn by sixiron-grey Andalusian horses, in which sat the king's dignified mother,with her ladies, rolled over the castle bridge at the head of thetrain, but the king soon rode impatiently past it, with a courteousapology, which was gladly received. Count Henrik accompanied him withthe half of the knightly train, while the ladies' car and the rest ofthe numerous cavalcade found it difficult to keep up with the hasteningbridegroom. All the pathways and banks on the road to Stockholm werecrowded with a countless concourse of people, who shouted with joy atthe splendid procession, and greeted the king with sympathising homage.
While the king thus rode to meet his bride, the most magnificentpreparations were made at Helsingborg for the reception of the royalbridal pair. St. Mary's church was decorated with garlands andcarpetted with flowers; the provincial prior of the Dominicans alreadyofficiated at early mass, as well as the venerable bishop of Aarhuusand Ribe, who with calm courage had supported the king in his boldstrife with the archbishop and the papal court. They had been standingat the high altar since daybreak, in readiness to preside over thesacred ceremonial of the day, and were accompanied by a great number ofmonks, canons, and priests from all the parishes of the kingdom, whointended by their united prayers and benedictions to consecrate thisday as an auspicious festival for two nations and two royal houses.
On the greensward below the castle hill, lists and galleries wereerected for the tournament, and tents were pitched with refreshmentsfor the spectators. The whole household of the castle was in fullactivity; tables were spread in the lofty halls, and barrels with mead,ale, and wine were hoisted from the cellars. The cooks were busilyemployed in the kitchen. A number of musicians tuned and tried theirinstruments; pipers, lute-players, fiddlers and trumpeters, werestationed upon the balcony of the upper story, from whence they were togreet the bridal guests, and enliven the thronging crowds. In thespacious gardens on the rocky steep overlooking the Sound, the trees ofthe long avenues had been hung at an early hour with coloured lamps,for the evening festivity. In a separate part of the gardenspreparations were making for exhibiting the hitherto unknown art offire-works, with which the mysterious Thrand Fistlier purposed tosurprise the king and court, and with which he himself and hisamanuensis, the youthful Master Laurentius, were zealously busied;while Master Rumelant and Master Poppe wandered among the tallyew-hedges, and practised their festal lays. The concourse of curiousguests and spectators was constantly increasing. All the ships in theharbour were hung with wreaths and flags, and the Sound was almosthidden by the fleet of ships arriving from Zealand and the isles. Onthe quay, in the town, and on the road to Stockholm, crowds of knights,priests, and town's-people, mingled with fishermen and Scanian peasantswith their families--there were national costumes to be seen from thefarthest Danish isles, and from many Swedish provinces. The streetswere strewed with flowers. All the windows were hung with garlands andsilken carpets, and occupied by gaily-dressed ladies. There was acontinued murmur from the many thousand voices, and a general gaze ofexpectation towards that quarter from whence the bridal procession wasexpected. At last it was echoed from mouth to mouth, "The procession!The procession! now they are come! There they are!" The multitude movedonward in one vast wave, and the provost with his men found itdifficult to keep a space clear for the entrance of the train.
Upon a large kerb stone, in the vicinity of the drawbridge beside thesouthern gate of the castle, stood a strongly-built man, in a coarsepilgrim's cloak, with muscle shells on the cape over his broadshoulders, and with his broad-brimmed hat, half slouched over a pair ofround sun-burnt cheeks. At his side stood an old fisherman, and apretty little fishermaiden in a north Zealand costume, from thedistrict of Gilleleie. The pilgrim was Morten the cook, who, with hisbetrothed and her father, had just landed from a fishing yawl, on aremote spot under the sand-stone cliff. The day preceding, Morten hadbeen set on shore at Gilleleie, from a foreign vessel, with a red sail,which had suffered damage at sea, and had been compelled to put inunder the Kohl for repairs; of which he talked in a mysterious manner.Although, as a party to the archbishop's flight from Sjoeborg, he hadbeen outlawed by the king, he had not only succeeded in quietingthe fears of old Jeppe, the fisherman, and his daughter, at hisre-appearance in the country, but had even prevailed on them toaccompany him hither, where he meant to show them, he said, that, byhis pilgrimage, he had obtained peace both with God and man, and thathe now, with a bran new and clean conscience, could dare to face theking on his bridal day.
"Come hither. Father Jeppe! Come little Karen! let me lift thee uphere!" said Morten, jumping down from the stone--"now ye can see allthe finery and splendour. _I_ shall do most wisely in keeping within mypilgrim's skin at first, on account of my bit of a head and neck."
"Alack, yes! for the Lord's sake, dearest Morten!" whispered thefishermaiden, anxiously, patting his cheek while she suffered hisstrong arm to lift her, like a puppet, upon the kerb stone; "hidethyself behind my back and my father's! I shall die of fear, if theking sees thee!"
"Trouble not thyself about anything, and look cheerfully at the finedoings, little sweetheart," whispered the blithe pilgrim; "he hath butseen me once in his life and hardly knows me; to-day he hath alsosomething else to think of than of hanging his dear faithful subjects."
"He is a scoundrel who says he hath ever done _that!_" exclaimed oldJeppe, the fisherman, with repressed vehemence. "Should he cause _thee_now to be hanged, thou knave! thou hast, doubtless, honestly deservedit. If thou canst not speak and clear thyself like an honest fellow andas thou gavest me hand and word thou wouldst ere thou left the country,then didst thou journey to Rome like a fool, and art come home like asimpleton."
"Come, come, Father Jeppe!" continued Morten, "let's see the finery inpeace! Whether I am to be hanged or no can be settled time enoughto-morrow; there is no need to hurry the matter."
"Thou art a desperate rogue, Morten!" growled the old man--"hast thou'ticed us hither that we might have the sorrow to see thee dangle? Thenthou shalt never have my daughter--I had well nigh said--but thatfollows of itself, I trow. What hath got the great lords who were tohelp thee? 'Tis all chatter and bragging, we shall find, and thou artas yet but an impudent madcap, as thou ever wast."
"Hush, Father Jeppe! Look! yonder come great lords and knights enow;who knows whether one of them will not break a lance with the king inhonour of Morten the cook?--And lo
ok--there he comes himself."
"Out of the way, madcap! _him_ thou art not worthy to look on," saidthe fisherman, pushing back the outlawed pilgrim with violence, whilehe carefully concealed him. "_I_ dare, the Lord be thanked and praisedfor it, look our noble king in the face without creeping to hide behindan honest fellow's back."
All eyes were now turned only upon the procession, and the air rangwith loyal acclamations for the king and his beautiful bride.
However high expectation had been raised, and however greatly reporthad exalted the beauty and loveable deportment of the noble PrincessIngeborg, all who now beheld her seemed to be struck with herappearance, even in a greater degree than they had anticipated. She satbetween her own mother. Queen Helvig, and the king's mother, CountessAgnes, in the large, open ladies' car; she was as yet only attired in asimple but tasteful travelling dress; no showy pomp and splendourheightened her beauty; but none inquired who was the bride.
By the side of the two elder ladies (who both, however, inspiredrespect, and attracted the attention of the people, by their dignifiedmien), youthful beauty still maintained its supremacy, and awakened anadmiration, which, associated with the idea of her being the king'sbride, and of her becoming, this day, Denmark's queen, asked not for amore majestic presence. By the side of her mother, the sister of thenoble Count Gerhard, it might be seen from whom she had inherited theinnocent, good-natured smile, and the engaging expression of heartfeltkindliness which was the very essence of her nature; and those who hadseen her renowned father. King Magnus Ladislaus, could account for thedignity and ingenuous frankness which was combined with so muchmildness and condescension in the countenance of the lovely princess.Opposite the princess and the two royal mothers sat two younger ladies,belonging to the train of the princess and the Swedish queen dowager;the younger was the fair lady Christine, Thorkild Knudsen's daughter,who had lately been betrothed to King Birger's younger brother, DukeValdemar of Finland; the elder was the instructress of the princess'schildhood, and her faithful friend, the Lady Inge. This noble lady,next to the pious, benevolent Queen Helvig, had exercised a realinfluence on the formation of the princess's character, and earlyawakened in her heart a warm affection for Denmark. She had made thefuture queen of the Danes acquainted with the spirit and usages of thenation; with its past achievements, its national ballads, and nobletraditions; and she had seen, with pleasure and enthusiasm, how thespirit of a whole nation seemed to breathe forth from the innocent andpious mind of Princess Ingeborg, in the tenderest affection for theyoung Danish king.
The Lady Inge was still a young and very attractive woman, with muchdetermination and energy in her look and deportment; she was known andappreciated by the people, but now seemed to rejoice at being eclipsedby the radiance of that youthful beauty, which justly rendered PrincessIngeborg the queen of the day and the festival.
The princess returned the greeting and enthusiastic acclamations of thepeople with the kindliest expression in her countenance and deportment.Each time she turned her joyous glance to the right from the car it metthe king's; he rode by the side of the ladies' car on his white steed,with his plumed hat in his hand, and, almost overwhelmed with joy,appeared to divide his affection between his loyal people and hisbride, while his whole soul's happiness seemed to beam forth from hiseye, whether it rested on the car or on the acclaiming crowds. Yet evenin this happy mood it was not possible for him to repress a fleetingsigh, and a cloud seemed as it were to pass over the clear heaven inhis face whenever he heard his brother's hollow voice from the oppositeside of the ladies' car, and discerned a manifest expression of rancourand wounded pride in the restless look and passionate glow of JunkerChristopher's countenance. Christopher rode between the brothers of theSwedish King Birger, the brave, chivalrous Duke Eric of Sudermania, andDuke Valdemar of Finland, who both attracted much attention by theirmanly beauty, their courteous bearing, and splendid attire. Each timeChristopher heard them addressed by the title of duke, and himself onlyas the "high-born junker," he apparently strove, but in vain, to hide,by a bitter smile, how deeply he felt himself aggrieved and neglectedby his brother, who had not raised him in rank and title, although hestood in the same relative position to the King of Denmark as theSwedish dukes[6] to the King of Sweden.
The young King Birger himself, who could as little vie with hischivalrous brothers in presence and dignity as in mind and bodilystrength, followed the queen's car in an easy travelling vehicle, inwhich he sat, in his costly purple mantle, by a young lady's side. Itwas his betrothed bride, Princess Merete of Denmark, King Eric'ssister, who, according to the early contract of betrothal, had, whileyet a child, been received into the royal family of Sweden as QueenHelvig's foster-daughter, and had not seen her mother or brothers sincethe marriage of Queen Agnes with Count Gerhard. The Danish princess nowspoke the Swedish language like her mother tongue, and appeared alreadyconscious of her dignity as Sweden's future queen; she possessed,however, neither the beauty nor the attractive mildness of PrincessIngeborg, and it was remarked she bore a greater resemblance to thejunker and her unhappy father than to King Eric and the fair QueenAgnes.
The Swedish regent, Marsk Thorkild Knudsen, accompanied his sovereignon horseback with almost regal splendour. He rode between Drost Aageand Count Henrik of Mecklenborg, who often nodded gaily to each other;and the festive rejoicing of the fair summer's day was not less evidentamong the gallant train of knights which followed the Swedish monarch.
At the head of the Danish chivalry rode the powerful, but littlepopular, Marsk Oluffsen. With his rough austere visage and bluntbearing he formed a striking contrast to the agile, slender knightHelmer Blaa, who gaily bestrode his favourite re-found Arabian, andoften unconsciously nodded assent, by way of confirmation, when heheard the populace laud him or his horse; occasionally, however, heglanced rather doubtfully towards the king, as if he desired not as yetto be noticed by him, and occasionally gave Drost Aage a monitory look.Beside him rode a quiet ecclesiastic on a palfrey; it was the king'sconfessor. Master Petrus de Dacia; his eye often dwelt on the cloudlesssummer heaven, and he seemed, in his calm satisfaction, to think moreof heavenly and godly things, and of a distant unseen beauty, than ofthe worldly pomp by which he was surrounded.
Helsingborg castle could hardly accommodate the numerous trains andwedding guests. A couple of hours after the entrance of the processionthe bridal train was seen to proceed with still greater splendour tothe church. Before the six white horses of the princess's gilded carpranced the two white tournament steeds which the king had been sodispleased at missing from Sorretslov castle. The two stable boys whohad unweariedly tracked the steps of the horses down to Stockholm, nowskipped joyously by the side of the noble animals. When the king beheldthe two well-known palfreys perform their trained step before thebride's car, he was heartily pleased and surprised. Drost Aageinstantly informed him, in a few words, of Sir Helmer's bold adventurein Copenhagen, and that he was here among his bridegroom's-men. Theking looked back, and recognised his briskest knight. "In the saddle herides so free," he said, with a menacing gesture, to Sir Helmer, butwith a gay smile and a nod of approbation.
In the church the marriage was solemnised, with all the rites of theRomish church, by the Bishops of Aarhuus and Ribe, while the provincialprior Olaus, together with the assembled monks, chaunted with theirdeep-toned voices in full chorus a "Gloria in excelsis." While the onebishop joined the hands of the royal pair, and pronounced upon them thechurch's benediction, the other placed the queenly crown of Denmark onthe light, beautiful tresses of the bride, and now a mighty tide oftrumpet sound poured into the choral song, and the people joined in thesolemn chorus. A fairer sight had never been beheld by Danish orSwedish man than when the royal pair, with tears of devotion and joy intheir eyes, and hand in hand, sank down, kneeling on the bridal stoolbefore the high and brilliantly-lighted altar, and nearly the wholebridal train, together with the enthusiastic crowd of spectators, kneltdown, as if moved by one common impulse, in audible prayer anddevot
ion.
The trumpets ceased and there was a breathless silence, while thebridal pair, in clear and distinct tones, pronounced the vow ofunalterable love and constancy to the end of their lives. The deep amenof the aged provincial prior was re-echoed by the monks and by manyamong the people. A "Te Deum," with an accompaniment of bassoons andtrumpets, concluded the church's festival.
After the blessing, the deeply affected pair were embraced by theirnearest relatives in the high choir. At last Prince Christopher alsoapproached his royal brother, and seemed preparing for a cold andforced salutation; but at this moment it seemed as if the spirit ofdarkness which had so long threatened the brothers from afar hadsuddenly come between them, and shot up into a giant. They gazed insilence, almost in dismay, upon each other, and let their arms sink; itseemed as though the gentle tear in the king's eye congealed and frozeat his brother's frightful coldness.
"No falsehood in this holy hour, Christopher, if thy soul and thysalvation are dear to thee!" he whispered in a tone of sternadmonition; "brothers now in the sight of God! or--may God forgiveme!--enemies to death!"
Christopher bowed in silence, and turned pale; his lips appeared tomove, but no sound issued from them. The king turned from him with aflashing glance; but it seemed as if a glimpse in the open heavensuddenly extinguished the fearful gleam of rising wrath and grief inthe king's expressive countenance as he turned round and beheld hisgently agitated bride tenderly stretch out her arms towards him; hepressed her eagerly to his heart, and the mild tear again glistened inhis eye. "This heart, however, thou hast given me, all-mercifulCreator!" he whispered, "and I have a brother at thy right hand whohates me not."
"My Eric! what is this?" asked the bride in astonishment, and gazinginto his eyes; but she observed his uplifted eye resting in confidenceon the crucifix over the door of the choir, and proceeded in silenceand in tranquil joy through the aisle of the church, leaning on Eric'sarm at the head of the bridal train. The king was afterwards calm andcheerful, but unusually pensive. No one, however, appeared to haveremarked the painful feeling which had disturbed his happiness.