The semi-weekly miner. [volume] (Butte, Mont.) 1882-1886, 1883-05-26
Hymn of the Fatherland.

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It is related of the famous King OF
Sweden, Gustavus Adolphus, that,
after long and severe fighting he
conquered q 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 allie
glance. These people he condemned
to death. They were marched out
from the town at nightfall to be held
i'm camp until the following morning,
when they were to be shot for trea
son. Several of his own officers in
terceded 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, con-
| demning to be shot only those of the
former subjects of Sweden who mad
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 fellows in protecting the homes
of their wives and children moved.
him not an atom. "They are
traitors!' he said, land as traitors
they shall die" At a late hour-it
was past NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. Adolp-
hus 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, answering the sentinels as they
hailed him, until at length his steps
were arrested by a strain of music.
"Who is that?" he asked of a SEN
tinel whom he CHANGED to meet a
moment later.
ut is in one of the tents of the
prisoners, sire. The wife and chill
dron 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 information 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 by the
rear of the tent he heard a deep,
manly voice.
Hush! hush! weep not. God
will provided" the voice said.
The king looked in through a seam
in the cloth and saw a gray-haired
man, with an imposing presence, a
grand face and heal, and a clear,
flashing 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. It is but the for
tune of war, my loved ones. Come.
my Hermoine sing to me once more
our dear old song of the Fatherland.
For though Gustavus will take my
life, yet | love the land that gave HE
birth. God bless dear Sweden, now
and ever mole. Now, Hermoine,
sing! Come, let thy voice give my
poor heart cheer, if it may be-"
Presently a beautiful girl of fifteen
or sixteen summers threw back the
siIken hood from her golden curls
and began to sing. Her song was
the Swede's oldest and most deeply
cherished piece of heart-music-the
words full of love and devotion, love
of home and country-and the mel
ody was peculiarly sweet and touch
ing. And never had the king heard
1t sung so grandly. The words fell
upon his ears with a new meaning
and the music touched the spirit
with Il strange awakening power.
As the melody swelled to grander
and grander tones and the voice of
the singer deepened and strengthen
ed, the listener felt his heart hushed
with awe. And finally, when the
last rich cadence died away, in mel
low, melting echoes, he pressed his
hands over his eyes and burst into
tears.
After a 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 the old man
raised in prayer. He listened for a
few seconds, then turned and strobe
away toward his quarters, where he
found two of his attendants waiting
for him. To one of them lie said
"GAionel, / wish you to go to the
prisoners quarters and in the large
tent nearest to the river-it is at the
extreme northwestern corner of the
camp-you will find the family of a
prisoner named Hoven; and of that
family is a girl named Hermoine.
Bring her to me. Assure her that no
harm shall befal her"
When the messenger had gone the
king turned to his table and having
found the necessary 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; II have sent for you be-
cause I 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 Father
land?:"
ayes, your majesty; I sang it for
my father, who is to die on the
morrow. Though no longer in
Sweden, he dearly loves the memory