and superstitious homage to the man who sought to
square deeds to faith. It is ever the case with
stern and stormy spirits, that the meek ones which
contrast them steal strangely into their affections.
This principle of human nature can alone account
for the enthusiastic devotion which the mild sufferings
of the Saviour awoke in the fiercest exterminators
of the North. In proportion, often, to the warrior’s
ferocity, was his love to that Divine model, at whose
sufferings he wept, to whose tomb he wandered barefoot,
and whose example of compassionate forgiveness he
would have thought himself the basest of men to follow!
“Now, by my halidame, I honour and love thee,
Edward,” cried the Duke, with a heartiness more
frank than was usual to him: “and were I
thy subject, woe to man or woman that wagged tongue
to wound thee by a breath. But who and what
is this same Hilda? one of thy kith and kin?—surely
not less than kingly blood runs so bold?”
“William, bien aime,” [15] said the King,
“it is true that Hilda, whom the saints assoil,
is of kingly blood, though not of our kingly line.
It is feared,” added Edward, in a timid whisper,
as he cast a hurried glance around him, “that
this unhappy woman has ever been more addicted to
the rites of her pagan ancestors than to those of Holy
Church; and men do say that she hath thus acquired
from fiend or charm secrets devoutly to be eschewed
by the righteous. Nathless, let us rather hope
that her mind is somewhat distraught with her misfortunes.”
The King sighed, and the Duke sighed too, but the
Duke’s sigh spoke impatience. He swept
behind him a stern and withering look towards the
proud figure of Hilda, still seen through the glades,
and said in a sinister voice: “Of kingly
blood; but this witch of Woden hath no sons or kinsmen,
I trust, who pretend to the throne of the Saxon:”
“She is sibbe to Githa, wife of Godwin,”
answered the King, “and that is her most perilous
connection; for the banished Earl, as thou knowest,
did not pretend to fill the throne, but he was content
with nought less than governing our people.”
The King then proceeded to sketch an outline of the
history of Hilda, but his narrative was so deformed
both by his superstitions and prejudices, and his
imperfect information in all the leading events and
characters in his own kingdom, that we will venture
to take upon ourselves his task; and while the train
ride on through glade and mead, we will briefly narrate,
from our own special sources of knowledge, the chronicle
of Hilda, the Scandinavian Vala.
