Teuntia, the Burgtmaagd of Medeasblik, who is not a candidate, is a person of knowledge and sound sense, and quite as attached to our people and our customs as all the rest together. I should farther recommend that you should visit all the citadels, and write down all the laws of Frya’s Tex, as well as all the histories, and all that is written on the walls, in order that it may not be destroyed with the citadels.
It stands written that every Volksmoeder and every Burgtmaagd shall have assistants and messengers—twenty-one maidens and seven apprentices.
If I might add more, I would recommend that all the respectable girls in the towns should be taught; for I say positively, and time will show it, that if you wish to remain true children of Frya, never to be vanquished by fraud or arms, you must take care to bring up your daughters as true Frya’s daughters.
You must teach the children how great our country has been, what great men our forefathers were, how great we still are, if we compare ourselves to others.
You must tell them of the sea-heroes, of their mighty deeds and distant voyages. All these stories must be told by the fireside and in the field, wherever it may be, in times of joy or sorrow; and if you wish to impress it on the brains and the hearts of your sons, you must let it flow through the lips of your wives and your daughters.
Adela’s advice was followed.
These are the Grevetmen under whose direction this book is composed:—
Apol, Adela’s husband; three times a sea-king; Grevetman of Ostflyland and Lindaoorden. The towns Liudgarda, Lindahem, and Stavia are under his care.
The Saxman Storo, Sytia’s husband; Grevetman over the Hoogefennen and Wouden. Nine times he was chosen as duke or heerman (commander). The towns Buda and Manna-garda-forda are under his care.
Abêlo, Jaltia’s husband; Grevetman over the Zuiderfly-landen. He was three times heerman. The towns Aken, Liudburg, and Katsburg are under his care.
Enoch, Dywcke’s husband; Grevetman over Westflyland and Texel. He was chosen nine times for sea-king. Waraburg, Medeasblik, Forana, and Fryasburg are under his care.
Foppe, Dunroo’s husband; Grevetman over the seven islands. He was five times sea-king. The town Walhallagara is under his care.
This was inscribed upon the walls of Fryasburg in Texland, as well as at Stavia and Medeasblik.
It was Frya’s day, and seven times seven years had elapsed since Festa was appointed Volksmoeder by the desire of Frya. The citadel of Medeasblik was ready, and a Burgtmaagd was chosen. Festa was about to light her new lamp, and when she had done so in the presence of all the people, Frya called from her watch-star, so that every one could hear it: “Festa, take your style and write the things, that I may not speak.” Festa did as she was bid, and thus we became Frya’s children, and our earliest history began.
This is our earliest history.
Wr-alda, who alone is eternal and good, made the beginning. Then commenced time. Time wrought all things, even the earth. The earth bore grass, herbs, and trees, all useful and all noxious animals. All that is good and useful she brought forth by day, and all that is bad and injurious by night.
After the twelfth Juulfeest she brought forth three maidens:—
Lyda out of fierce heat.
Finda out of strong heat.
Frya out of moderate heat.
When the last came into existence, Wr-alda breathed his spirit upon her in order that men might be bound to him. As soon as they were full grown they took pleasure and delight in the visions of Wr-alda.
Hatred found its way among them.
They each bore twelve sons and twelve daughters—at every Juul-time a couple. Thence come all mankind.
Lyda was black, with hair curled like a lamb’s; her eyes shone like stars, and shot out glances like those of a bird of prey.
Lyda was acute. She could hear a snake glide, and could smell a fish in the water.
Lyda was strong and nimble. She could bend a large tree, yet when she walked she did not bruise a flower-stalk.
Lyda was violent. Her voice was loud, and when she screamed in anger every creature quailed.
Wonderful Lyda! She had no regard for laws; her actions were governed by her passions. To help the weak she would kill the strong, and when she had done it she would weep by their bodies.
Poor Lyda! She turned grey by her mad behaviour, and at last she died heart-broken by the wickedness of her children. Foolish children! They accused each other of their mother’s death. They howled and fought like wolves, and while they did this the birds devoured the corpse. Who can refrain from tears at such a recital?
Finda was yellow, and her hair was like the mane of a horse. She could not bend a tree, but where Lyda killed one lion she killed ten.
Finda was seductive. Her voice was sweeter than any bird’s. Her eyes were alluring and enticing, but whoever looked upon them became her slave.
Finda was unreasonable. She wrote thousands of laws, but she never obeyed one. She despised the frankness of the good, and gave herself up to flatterers.
That was her misfortune. Her head was too full, but her heart was too vain. She loved nobody but herself, and she wished that all should love her.
False Finda! Honey-sweet were her words, but those who trusted them found sorrow at hand.
Selfish Finda! She wished to rule everybody, and her sons were like her. They made their sisters serve them, and they slew each other for the mastery.
Treacherous Finda! One wrong word would irritate her, and the cruellest deeds did not affect her. If she saw a lizard swallow a spider, she shuddered; but if she saw her children kill a Frisian, her bosom swelled with pleasure.
Unfortunate Finda! She died in the bloom of her age, and the mode of her death is unknown.
Hypocritical children! Her corpse was buried under a costly stone, pompous inscriptions were written on it, and loud lamentations were heard at it, but in private not a tear was shed.
Despicable people! The laws that Finda established were written on golden tables, but the object for which they were made was never attained. The good laws were abolished, and selfishness instituted bad ones in their place. O Finda! then the earth overflowed with blood, and your children were mown down like grass. Yes, Finda! those were the fruits of your vanity. Look down from your watch-star and weep.
Frya was white like the snow at sunrise, and the blue of her eyes vied with the rainbow.
Beautiful Frya! Like the rays of the sun shone the locks of her hair, which were as fine as spiders’ webs.
Clever Frya! When she opened her lips the birds ceased to sing and the leaves to quiver.
Powerful Frya! At the glance of her eye the lion lay down at her feet and the adder withheld his poison.
Pure