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As they came in, Hardy gave a very necessary order to his servant, Robert Garth, namely, to get the horses' feet well washed, as the roads are so sandy. The dinner was well served, and much praised by Pastor Lindal, who of course had a legend to relate, of Holger Danske, whose sword was buried with him near Horsens.
There he read about Holger Danske; and the man read that the tale had been invented and put together by a monk in France, that it was a romance, "translated into Danish and printed in that language;" that Holger Danske had never really lived, and consequently could never come again, as we have sung, and have been so glad to believe. And William Tell was treated just like Holger Danske.
Yes, Holger Danske may come in many forms, so that one hears in every country of Denmark's strength. But the little lad in the bed saw plainly the old Kronenburgh, with the Oer Sound, and the real Holger Danske, who sat deep below, with his beard grown through the marble table, dreaming of all that happens up here.
But the most beautiful sight of all is the old castle of Kronenburg, where Holger Danske sits in the deep, dark cellar, into which no one goes. He is clad in iron and steel, and rests his head on his strong arm; his long beard hangs down upon the marble table, into which it has become firmly rooted; he sleeps and dreams, but in his dreams he sees everything that happens in Denmark.
Then he will come forth and strike, so that it shall be heard in all the countries in the world." An old grandfather sat and told his little grandson all this about Holger Danske; and the little boy knew that what his grandfather told him was true.
And the good old grandfather nodded again; and the more he looked at Holger Danske, the more plain did it become to him that it was a good image he had carved. "That's the most beautiful coat of arms there is in the world!" said the old man. "The lions are strength, and the heart is gentleness and love!"
And now he had carved Holger Danske, who stood there erect and proud, with his long beard, holding in one hand his broad battle-axe, while with the other he leaned on the Danish arms.
The ships sailed by and saluted the castle with the boom of the cannon, and Kronenburg returned the salute, "Boom, boom." But the roaring cannons did not awake Holger Danske, for they meant only "Good morning," and "Thank you." They must fire in another fashion before he awakes; but wake he will, for there is energy yet in Holger Danske.
Leonard Ennen, Der Dom zu Koln, Historische Einleitung, Koln, 1871, pp. 46, 50. See previous chapter. Kofod Ancher, Om gamle Danske Gilder og deres Undergang, Copenhagen, 1785. Statutes of a Knu guild. Upon the position of women in guilds, see Miss Toulmin Smith's introductory remarks to the English Guilds of her father. In medieval times, only secret aggression was treated as a murder.
Just look at little Miss Glove, how she's pointing her fingers! "'Could I but have my love, Who then so happy as Glove! Ah! If I from him must part, I'm sure 'twill break my heart! 'Bah! The last word was spoken by Mr. Pipe-head; and now it's Mr. Waistcoat's turn: "'O Glove, my own dear, Though it cost thee a tear, Thou must be mine, For Holger Danske has sworn it!
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