The mother’s advice was asked, and she wished to see them at some distance, so she saw no harm in it; but as we afterwards saw what a mistake we had made, we called the island Missellia (Marseilles). Hereafter will be seen what reason we had. The Golen, as the missionary priests of Sidon were called, had observed that the land there was thinly peopled, and was far from the mother. In order to make a favourable impression, they had themselves called in our language followers of the truth; but they had better have been called abstainers from the truth, or, in short, “Triuwenden,” as our seafaring people afterwards called them. When they were well established, their merchants exchanged their beautiful copper weapons and all sorts of jewels for our iron weapons and hides of wild beasts, which were abundant in our southern countries; but the Golen celebrated all sorts of vile and monstrous festivals, which the inhabitants of the coast promoted with their wanton women and sweet poisonous wine. If any of our people had so conducted himself that his life was in danger, the Golen afforded him a refuge, and sent him to Phonisia, that is, Palmland. When he was settled there, they made him write to his family, friends, and connections that the country was so good and the people so happy that no one could form any idea of it. In Britain there were plenty of men, but few women. When the Golen knew this, they carried off girls everywhere and gave them to the Britons for nothing. So all these girls served their purpose to steal children from Wr-alda in order to give them to false gods.
Now We Will Write about the War between the Burgtmaagden Kalta and Min-erva,
And how we thereby lost all our southern lands and Britain to the Golen.
Near the southern mouth of the Rhine and the Scheldt there are seven islands, named after Frya’s seven virgins of the week. In the middle of one island is the city of Walhallagara (Middelburg), and on the walls of this city the following history is inscribed. Above it are the words “Read, learn, and watch.”
Five hundred and sixty-three years after the submersion of Atland—that is, 1600 years before Christ—a wise town priestess presided here, whose name was Min-erva—called by the sailors Nyhellenia. This name was well chosen, for her counsels were new and clear above all others.
On the other side of the Scheldt, at Flyburgt, Sijrhed presided. This maiden was full of tricks. Her face was beautiful, and her tongue was nimble; but the advice that she gave was always conveyed in mysterious terms. Therefore the mariners called her Kalta, and the landsmen thought it was a title. In the last will of the dead mother, Rosamond was named first, Min-erva second, and Sijrhed third in succession. Min-erva did not mind that, but Sijrhed was very much offended. Like a foreign princess, she wished to be honoured, feared, and worshipped; but Min-erva only desired to be loved. At last all the sailors, even from Denmark and Flymeer, did homage to her. This hurt Sijrhed, because she wanted to excel Min-erva. In order to give an impression of her great watchfulness, she had a cock put on her banner. So then Min-erva went and put a sheep-dog and an owl on her banner. The dog, she said, guards his master and his flock, and the owl watches that the mice shall not devastate the fields; but the cock in his lewdness and his pride is only fit to murder his nearest relations. When Kalta found that her scheme had failed she was still more vexed, so she secretly sent for the Magyars to teach her conjuring. When she had had enough of this she threw herself into the hands of the Gauls; but all her malpractices did not improve her position. When she saw that the sailors kept more and more aloof from her, she tried to win them back by fear. At the full moon, when the sea was stormy, she ran over the wild waves, calling to the sailors that they would all be lost if they did not worship her. Then she blinded their eyes, so that they mistook land for water and water for land, and in this way many a good ship was totally lost. At the first war-feast, when all her countrymen were armed, she brought casks of beer, which she had drugged. When they were all drunk she mounted her war-horse, leaning her head upon her spear. Sunrise could not be more beautiful. When she saw that the eyes of all were fixed upon her, she opened her lips and said:—
Sons and daughters of Frya, you know that in these last times we have suffered much loss and misery because the sailors no longer come to buy our paper, but you do not know what the reason of it is. I have long kept silence about it, but can do so no longer. Listen, then, my friends, that you may know on which side to show your teeth. On the other side of the Scheldt, where from time to time there come ships from all parts, they make now paper from pumpkin leaves, by which they save flax and outdo us. Now, as the making of paper was always our principal industry, the mother willed that people should learn it from us; but Min-erva has bewitched all the people—yes, bewitched, my friends—as well as all our cattle that died lately. I must come out with it. If I were not Burgtmaagd, I should know what to do. I should burn the witch in her nest.
As soon as she had uttered these words she sped away to her citadel; but the drunken people were so excited that they did not stop to weigh what they had heard. In mad haste they hurried over the Sandfal, and as night came on they burst into the citadel. However, Kalta again missed her aim; for Min-erva, her maidens, and her lamp were all saved by the alertness of the seamen.
We Now Come to the History of Jon.
Jon, Jôn, Jhon, Jan, are all the same name, though the pronunciation varies, as the seamen like to shorten everything to be able to make it easier to call. Jon—that is, “Given”—was a sea-king, born at Alberga, who sailed from the Flymeer with a fleet of 127 ships fitted out for a long voyage, and laden with amber, tin, copper, cloth, linen, felt, otter-skins, beaver and rabbit skins. He would also have taken paper from here, but when he saw how Kalta had destroyed the citadel he became so angry that he went off with all his people to Flyburgt, and out of revenge set fire to it. His admiral and some of his people saved the lamp and the maidens, but they could not catch Sijrhed (or Kalta). She climbed up on the furthest battlement, and they thought she must be killed in the flames; but what happened? While all her people stood transfixed with horror, she appeared upon her steed more beautiful than ever, calling to them, “To Kalta!” Then the other Schelda people poured out towards her. When the seamen saw that, they shouted, “We are for Min-erva!” from which arose a war in which thousands were killed.
At this time Rosamond the mother, who had done all in her power by gentle means to preserve peace, when she saw how bad it was, made short work of it. Immediately she sent messengers throughout all the districts to call a general levy, which brought together all the defenders of the country. The landsmen who were fighting were all caught, but Jon with his seamen took refuge on board his fleet, taking with him the two lamps, as well as Min-erva and the maidens of both the citadels. Helprik, the chief, summoned him to appear; but while all the soldiers were on the other side of the Scheldt, Jon sailed back to the Flymeer, and then straight to our islands. His fighting men and many of our people took women and children on board, and when Jon saw that he and his people would be punished for their misdeeds, he secretly took his departure. He did well, for all our islanders, and the other Scheldt people who had been fighting were transported to Britain. This step was a mistake, for now came the beginning of the end. Kalta, who, people said, could go as easily on the water as on the land, went to the mainland and on to Missellia (Marseilles). Then came the Gauls out of the Mediterranean Sea with their ships to Cadiz, and along all our coasts, and fell upon Britain; but they could not make any good footing there, because the government was powerful and the exiles were still Frisians. But now came Kalta and said: You were born free, and for small offences have been sent away, not for your own improvement, but to get tin by your labour. If you wish to be free again, and take my advice, and live under my care, come away. I will provide you with arms, and will watch over you. The news flew through the land like lightning, and before the carrier’s wheel had made one revolution she was mistress of all the Thyriers in all our southern states as far as the Seine. She built