The National tribune., 1881-09-24
HYMN OF THE FATHERLAND.

1t is related of the famous king of Sweden
GustavuS AdOlphus, that, after long and severe
fighting, he conquered strongly fortified town
in which were citizens who had been born within
the limits of Swedish rule, but departed to seek
new homes and take upon themselves new ale
glance These people he condemned to death
They were marched out from the town at night
fall to be held in camp until the following morn
ing, when they were to be shot for treason. Sew
eral of his own officers interceded with the king
for the lives of these poor people. But Gustavus
felt that he had already granted enough. First
in the heat of his passion, he had consigned the
whole tribe to death; but since then he had
greatly modified the sentence, cOndemning to be
shot only those of the former subjects of Sweden
who had been taken with arms in their hands:
and from this no power of argument or persuasion
could move him. All the talk of his old chaplain
about these people having only joined their fel-
lows in protecting the homes Of their wives and
children moved him not an atom. "Thev are
traitors" he said, and as traitors they shall die
At late hour-it was past midnight Gustavus
Adolphus threw on his cloak, drew his slouched
hat over his eyes, and, staff in hand, wandered
forth into the darkness. Without thinking
whittier he went, he walked slowly on, answer
ing the sentinels as they hailed him, until at
length his steps were arrested by strain of mu-
sic.
"Who is that ?" he asked of a sentinel whom
he chanced to meet moment later.
1t is in one of the tents of the prisoners sire.
The wife and children Of one of their chief men
have had permission to spend the night with the
husband and father
The king nodded his thanks for the informa-
tion, and moved on. Slowly he approached the
tent whence the music had issued, and as he drew
near he heard the sound of weeping and wailing.
for the song had ceased As he stopped bv the
rear of the tent he heard deep manly voice
Hush hush! weep not. God will provided"
the voice said.
The king looked in through seam in the cloth
and saw gray y-haired man. with an imposing
presence, a grand face and head and a clear flash
ing eye, surrounded by his wife and children.
who clung to him with passionate tenderness.
Hush" he said. LET us not make these
precious moments darker than they need be- 1t
is but the fortune of war, my loves Come nv
HermOlne-slng to me once more our dear old
song of the Fatherland, for though Grstavus will
take my life, yet | love the land that gave me
birth. God bless dear Sweden. now and ever
more. Now, Hermoine, sing! Come-let thv
voice give my poor heart cheer, if it NAV be-
Presently beautiful girl of fifteen or sixteen
summers threw back the silken hood from her
golden curls and began to sing. Her song was
the Swedes' Oldest and most deeply cherished
piece Of heart music-the words full of love and
devotion, love Of home and cOuntrv-and the
melody was peculiarly sweet and touching. And
never had the king heard it sung so granIIy.
The words fell upon his ears with a new mean
ing and the music touched the spirit with
strangely awakening power. As the melody
swelled to grander and grander tones and the
voice of the singer deepened and STRENGTHENED.
the listener felt his heart hushed with awe: and
finally, when the last rich cadence died away in
mellow, melting echoes he pressed his hands
over his eyes and burst into tears
After time Gustavus lifted his head. and
looking once more through the aperture in the
wall of the tent he saw the family upon their
knees and heard the voice of an old man raised
in prayer. He listened for few seconds. then
turned and strobe away toward his quarters,
where he found two of his attendants waiting
for him. To one of them he said:
Colonel, | wish you to 90 to the prisoners
quarters and in a large tent nearest the river-it
is at the extreme northwestern corner of the
camp-yOu will find the family of a prisoner
named HOven and Of the family is a girl named
HermOine. Bring her to me- Assure her that
no harm shall befall her"
When the messenger had gone the king
turned to his table, and having found the neces-
sary materials he at once began to write. He
wrote rapidly and heavily, like one moved by
ponderous ideas and he had just finished his
work when the colonel appeared with the gentle
songstresS.
Fear not, my child" the king said, as the
maiden stood trembling before him; L have
sent for you because 1 wished to repay you for
a great good you uncOnsciOusly did me this
night Do you call to mind that you sang the
dear old song of the Vasas-the hymn of the
Fatherland?"
"Yes, your Majesty; sang it for my father,
who is to die on the morrow. Though no longer
in Sweden, he dearly loves the memory of the
land that gave him birth"