riches in the fortunate bin. May he sit on wealth, may he sleep on
down, may he wake to delight; then the grinding were good. Here shall
no man hurt another, prepare evil nor work death, nor hew with the
keen sword though he find his brother's slayer bound."
But when they wearied of their toil and asked for a little rest,
Frodi answered: "Ye shall sleep no longer than the cuckoo is silent,
or while I speak one stave." Then the giant-maids grew angry, and sang:
"Thou wert not wise, Frodi, in buying thy bondmaids: thou didst
choose us for our strength and size but asked not our race. Bold
were Hrungni and his father, and mightier Thiazi; Idi and Orni were
our ancestors, from them are we daughters of the mountain-giants
sprung.... We maids wrought mighty deeds, we moved the mountains
from their places, we rolled rocks over the court of the giants,
so that the earth shook.... Now we are come to the king's house,
meeting no mercy and held in bondage, mud beneath our feet and cold
over our heads, we grind the Peace-maker. It is dreary at Frodi's."
As they sang of their wrongs by night, their mood changed, and instead
of grinding peace and wealth, they ground war, fire and sword:
"Waken, Frodi! waken, Frodi! if thou wilt hear our songs.... I see
fire burn at the east of the citadel, the voice of war awakes, the
signal is given. A host will come hither in speed, and burn the hall
over the king."
So the bondmaids ground on in giant-wrath, while the sea-king Mysing
sailed nearer with his host, until the quern-stones split; and then
the daughters of the mountain-giants spoke once more: "We have ground
to our pleasure, Frodi; we maids have stood long at the mill."
A Norseman was rarely content to allow a fortunate ending to any
hero, and a continuation of the story therefore makes the mill bring
disaster on Mysing also. After slaying Frodi and burning his hall,
he took the stones and the bondmaids on board his ship, and bade them
grind salt. They ground till the weight sank the ship to the bottom
of the sea, where the mill is grinding still. This is not in the song,
though it has lived longer popularly than the earlier part. Dr. Rydberg
identities Frodi with Frey, the God of fertility.
_The Everlasting Battle_.--No Eddic poem survives on the battle of the
Hjathnings, the story of which is told in prose by Snorri. It must,
however, be an ancient legend; and the hero Hedin belongs to one of
the old Germanic heroic races, for the minstrel Deor is a dependent of
the Heodenings in the Old English poem to which reference will be made
later. The legend is that Hild, daughter of Högni, was carried away by
Hedin the Hjathning, Hjarrandi's son. Högni pursued, and overtook them
near the Orkneys. Then Hild went to her father and offered atonement
from Hedin, but said also that he was quite ready to fight, and Högni
need expect no mercy. Högni answered shortly, and Hild returning told
Hedin that her father would accept no atonement but bade him prepare
to fight. Both kings landed on an island, followed by their men. Hedin
called to Högni and offered atonement and much gold, but Högni said it
was too late, his sword was already drawn. They fought till evening,
and then returned to their ships; but Hild went on shore and woke up
all the slain by sorcery, so that the battle began again next day
just as before. Every day they fight, and every night the dead are
recalled to life, and so it will go on till Ragnarök.
In the German poem, _Gudrun_, the Continental version of this legend
occurs in the story of the second Hilde. She is carried away by the
minstrel Horant (who thus plays a more active part than the Norse
Hjarrandi), as envoy from King Hettel, Hedin's German counterpart. Her
father Hagen pursues, and after a battle with Hettel agrees to a
reconciliation. The story is duplicated in the abduction of Hilde's
daughter Gudrun, and the battle on the Wülpensand.
Another reference may probably be supplied by the much debated lines
14-16 from the Anglo-Saxon _Deor_, of which the most satisfactory
translation seems to be: "Many of us have heard of the harm of Hild;
the Jute's loves were unbounded, so that the care of love took
from him sleep altogether." Saxo, it is true, makes Hild's father
a Jute, instead of her lover, and Snorri apparently agrees with him
in making Hedin Norwegian; but in the _Gudrun_ Hettel is Frisian or
Jutish. The Anglo-Saxon _Widsith_ mentions in one line Hagena, king of
the Holmrygas (a Norwegian province), and Heoden, king of the Glommas
(not identified), who may be the Högni and Hedin of this tale.
The Anglo-Saxon and German agree on another point where both differ
from the Norse. The Anglo-Saxon poem _Deor_ is supposed to be spoken
by a _scop_ or court poet who has been ousted from the favour of
his lord, a Heodening, by Heorrenda, another singer: "Once I was the
Heodenings' scop, dear to my lord: Deor was my name. Many a year I had
a good service and a gracious lord, until the song-skilled Hoerrenda
received the rights which the protector of men once granted me." Like
Heorrenda, Horant in the _Gudrun_ is a singer in the service of the
Heathnings. The Norse version keeps the name, and its connection with
the Heathnings, but gives Hjarrandi, as the hero's father, no active
part to play. In both points, arguing from the probable Frisian origin
of the story, the Anglo-Saxon and German are more likely to have the
correct form.
The legend is, like those of Walter and Hildigund, Helgi and Sigrun,
founded on the primary instincts of love and war. In the Norse
story of the Heathnings, however, the former element is almost
eliminated. It is from no love to Hedin that Hild accompanies him,
though Saxo would have it so. Nothing is clearer than that strife is
her only object. It is her mediation which brings about the battle,
when apparently both heroes would be quite willing to make peace; and
her arts which cause the daily renewal of fighting. This island battle
among dead and living is peculiar to the Norse version, and coloured
by, if not originating in, the Valhalla idea: Högni and Hedin and
their men are the Einherjar who fight every day and rest and feast
at night, Hild is a war-goddess. The conception of her character,
contrasting with the gentler part played by the Continental German
heroines (who are rather the causes than the inciters of strife),
can be paralleled from many of the sagas proper.
Högni's sword Dainsleif, forged by the dwarfs, as were all magic
weapons, is like the sword of Angantyr, in that it claims a victim
whenever it is drawn from the sheath: an idea which may easily have
arisen from the prowess of any famous swordsman.
_The Sword of Angantyr_.--Like the two last legends, Angantyr's
story is not represented in the Elder Edda; it is not even told by
Snorri. Yet poems belonging to the cycle survive (preserved by good
fortune in the late mythical _Hervarar Saga_) which among the heroic
poems rank next in artistic beauty to the Helgi Lays. Since the story
possesses besides a striking originality, and is connected with the
name of a Pan-Germanic hero, the Ongendtheow of Old English poetry,
I cannot follow the example of most editors and omit it from the
heroic poems.
Like the Volsung legend it is the story of a curse; and there is a
general similarity of outline, with the exception that the hero is in
this case a woman. The curse-laden treasure is here the sword Tyrfing,
which Svafrlami got by force from the dwarfs. They laid a curse on it:
that it should bring death to its bearer, no wound it made should be
healed, and it should claim a victim whenever it was unsheathed. In
the saga, the story is spread over several generations: partly, no
doubt, in order to include varying versions; partly also in imitation
of the true Icelandic family saga. The chief actors in the legend,
beside the sword, are Angantyr and his daughter Hervör.
The earlier history of Tyrfing is told in the saga. Svafrlami is
killed, with the magic weapon itself, by the viking Arngrim, who thus
gains possession of it; when he is slain in his turn, it descends to
Angantyr, the eldest of his twelve berserk sons. For a while no one
can withstand them, but the doom overtakes them at last in the battle
of Samsey against the Swedes Arrow-Odd and Hjalmar. In berserk-rage,
the twelve brothers attack the Swedish ships, and slay every man
except the two leaders who have landed on the island. The battle
over, the berserks go ashore, and there when their fury is past, they
are attacked by the two Swedish champions. Odd fights eleven of the
brothers, but Hjalmar has the harder task in meeting Angantyr and his
sword. All the twelve sons of Arngrim fall, and Hjalmar is mortally
wounded by Tyrfing. The survivor buries his twelve foemen where they
fell, and takes his comrade's body back to Sweden. The first poem
gives the challenge of the Swedish champions, and Hjalmar's dying song.
Hervör, the daughter of Angantyr, is in some respects a female
counterpart of Sigurd. Like him, she is born after her father's death,
and brought up in obscurity. When she learns her father's name, she
goes forth without delay to claim her inheritance from the dead, even
with the curse that goes with it. Here the second poem begins. On
reaching the island where her father fell, she asks a shepherd to
guide her to the graves of Arngrim's sons:
"I will ask no hospitality, for I know not the islanders; tell me
quickly, where are the graves called Hjörvard's howes?"
He is unwilling: "The man is foolish who comes here alone in the dark
shade of night: fire is flickering, howes are opening, field and fen
are aflame," and flees into the woods, but Hervör is dauntless and
goes on alone. She reaches the howes, and calls on the sons of Arngrim:
"Awake, Angantyr! Hervör calls thee, only daughter to thee and
Tofa. Give me from the howe the keen sword which the dwarfs forged
for Svafrlami, Hervard, Hjörvard, Hrani, Angantyr! I call you all
from below the tree-roots, with helm and corselet, with sharp sword,
shield and harness, and reddened spear."
Angantyr denies that the sword is in his howe: "Neither father, son,
nor other kinsmen buried me; my slayers had Tyrfing;" but Hervör does
not believe him. "Tell me but truth.... Thou art slow to give thine
only child her heritage." He tries to frighten her back to the ships
by describing the sights she will see, but she only cries again,
"Give me Hjalmar's slayer from the howe, Angantyr!"
A. "Hjalmar's slayer lies under my shoulders; it is all wrapped in
fire; I know no maid on earth who dare take that sword in her hands."
H. "I will take the sharp sword in my hands, if I can get it: I fear
no burning fire, the flame sinks as I look on it."
A. "Foolish art thou, Hervör the fearless, to rush into the fire
open-eyed. I will rather give thee the sword from the howe, young maid;
I cannot refuse thee."
H. "Thou dost well, son of vikings, to give me the sword from the
howe. I think its possession better than to win all Norway."
Her father warns her of the curse, and the doom that the sword
will bring, and she leaves the howes followed by his vain wish:
"Would that I could give thee the lives of us twelve, the strength
and energy that we sons of Arngrim left behind us!"
It is unnecessary here to continue the story as the saga does, working
out the doom over later generations; over Hervör's son Heidrek, who
forfeited his head to Odin in a riddle-contest, and over his children,
another Angantyr, Hlod, and a second Hervör. The verse sources for
this latter part are very corrupt.
A full discussion of the relation between the Eddic and the Continental
versions of the heroic tales summarised in the foregoing pages would,
of course, be far beyond the scope of this study; the utmost that
can be done in that direction is to suggest a few points. Three of
the stories are not concerned in this section: Helgi and Frodi are
purely Scandinavian cycles; while though Angantyr is a well-known
heroic name (in _Widsith_ Ongendtheow is king of the Swedes), the
legend attached to his name in the Norse sources does not survive
elsewhere. The Weland cycle is perhaps common property. None of the
versions localise it, for the names in _Völundarkvida_, Wolfdale,
Myrkwood, &c., are conventional heroic place-names. It was popular at a
very early date in England, and is probably a Pan-Germanic legend. The
Sigurd and Hild stories, on the contrary, are both, in all versions,
localised on the Continent, the former by the Rhine, the latter in
Friesland or Jutland; both, therefore, in Low German country, whence
they must have spread to the other Germanic lands. To England they were
doubtless carried by the Low German invaders of the sixth century. On
the question of their passage to the North there are wide differences
of opinion. Most scholars agree that there was an earlier and a later
passage, the first taking Hild, Ermanric, and the Volsung story; the
second, about the twelfth or thirteenth century, the Volsungs again,
with perhaps Dietrich and Attila. But there is much disagreement as to
the date of the first transmission. Müllenhoff put it as early as 600;
Konrad Maurer, in the ninth and tenth centuries; while Dr. Golther
is of opinion that the Volsung story passed first to the vikings in
France, and then westward over Ireland to Iceland; therefore also not
before the ninth century. Such evidence as is afforded by the very
slight English references makes it probable that the Scandinavians
had the tales later than the English, a view supported by the more
highly developed form of the Norse version, and, in the case of the
Volsung cycle, its greater likeness to the Continental German. The
earliest Norse references which can be approximately dated are in the
Skald Bragi (first half of the ninth century), who knew all three
stories: the Hild and Ermanric tales he gives in outline; his only
reference to the Volsungs is a kenning, "the Volsungs' drink," for
serpent. With the possible exception of the Anglo-Saxon fragments,
the Edda preserves on the whole the purest versions of those stories
which are common to all, though, as might be expected, the Continental
sources sometimes show greater originality in isolated details. These
German sources have entangled the different cycles into one involved
mass; but in the Norse the extraneous elements are easily detached.
The motives of heroic tales are limited in number and more or less
common to different races. Heroic cycles differ as a rule merely in
their choice or combination of incidents, not in the nature of their
material. The origin of these heroic motives may generally be found in
primitive custom or conditions of life, seized by an imaginative people
and woven into legend; sometimes linked to the name of some dead tribal
hero, just as the poets of a later date wound the same traditions
in still-varying combinations round the names of Gretti Asmundarson
and Gold-Thori; though often the hero is, like the Gods, born of the
myth. In the latter case, the story is pure myth; in the former it
is legend, or a mixture of history and legend, as in the Ermanric
and Dietrich tales, which have less interest for the mythologist.
The curse-bringing treasure, one of the most fruitful Germanic
motives, probably has its origin in the custom of burying a dead man's
possessions with him. In the _Waterdale Saga_, Ketil Raum, a viking
of the eighth and early ninth centuries, reproaches his son Thorstein
as a degenerate, in that he expects to inherit his father's wealth,
instead of winning fortune for himself: "It used to be the custom
with kings and earls, men of our kind, that they won for themselves
fortune and fame; wealth was not counted as a heritage, nor would sons
inherit from their fathers, but rather lay their possessions in the
howe with them." It is easy to see that when this custom came into
conflict with the son's natural desire to inherit, the sacrosanctity
of the dead man's treasure and of his burial-mound would be their only
protection against violation. The fear of the consequences of breaking
the custom took form in the myth of the curse, as in the sword of
Angantyr and the Nibelungs' hoard; while the dangers attending the
violation of the howe were personified in the dragon-guardian. In
_Gold-Thori's Saga_, the dead berserks whose howe Thori enters, are
found guarding their treasure in the shape of dragons; while Thori
himself is said to have turned into a dragon after death.
Marriage with alien wives, which in the case of the Mastermaid story
has been postulated as means of transmission and as the one possible
explanation of its nearly universal diffusion, may perhaps with more
simplicity be assumed as the common basis in custom for independently
arising myths of this type. The attempts of the bride's kindred to
prevent the marriage, and of the bridegroom's to undo it, would be
natural incidents in such a story, and the magic powers employed by
and against the bride would be the mythical representatives of the
mutually unfamiliar customs of alien tribes. This theory at least
offers a credible explanation of the hero's temporary oblivion of
or unfaithfulness to his protectress, after their successful escape
together.
In the Valkyrie-brides, Brynhild and Sigrun, with their double
attributes of fighting and wisdom, there is an evident connexion
with the Germanic type of woman preserved in the allusions of Cæsar
and Tacitus, which reaches its highest development in the heroines
of the Edda. Any mythical or ideal conception of womanhood combines
the two primitive instincts, love and fighting, even though the woman
may be only the innocent cause of strife, or its passive prize. The
peculiarity of the Germanic representation is that the woman is never
passive, but is herself the incarnation of both instincts. Even
if she is not a Valkyrie, nor taking part herself in the fight,
she is ready, like the wives of the Cimbri, to drive the men back
to the battle from which they have escaped. Hild and Hervör are at
one extreme: war is their spiritual life. Love is in Hild nothing
more than instinct; in Hervör it is not even that: she would desire
nothing from marriage beyond a son to inherit the sword. At the other
extreme is Sigrun, who has the warlike instinct, but is spiritually a
lover as completely and essentially as Isolde or Juliet. The interest
in Signy lies in the way in which she sacrifices what are usually
considered the strongest feminine instincts, without, however, by
any means abandoning them, to her uncompromising revenge and pride
of race. Her pride in her son seems to include something of both
trains of feeling; and she dies with the husband she detests, simply
because he is her husband. Brynhild, lastly, is a highly modern type,
as independent in love as in war. It is impossible to imagine Sigrun,
or Wagner's Sieglinde, taking her revenge on a faithless lover;
from no lack of spirit, but simply because revenge would have given
no comfort to either. To Brynhild it is not only a distinct relief,
but the only endurable end; she can forgive when she is avenged.
The other motives of these stories may be briefly enumerated. The
burning of Brynhild and Signy, and Sigrun's entrance into the howe,
are mythical reminiscences of widow-burial. The "sister's son" is
preserved in the Sigmund and Sinfjötli tale, which also has a trace
of animism in the werwolf episode. The common swanmaid motive occurs
in two, the Völund story and the legend of Helgi and Kara; while the
first Helgi tale suggests the Levirate in the proposed marriage of
Svava to her husband's brother. The waverlowe of the Volsung myth
may be traced back to the midsummer fires; the wooing of Brynhild
by Sigurd's crossing the fire would thus, like the similar bridal
of Menglad and Svipdag and the winning of Gerd for Frey, be based on
the marriages which formed a part of agricultural rites.
Bibliographical Notes
To avoid confusion, and in view of the customary loose usage of the
word "saga," it may be as well to state that it is here used only in
its technical sense of a prose history.
_Völund_. (Pages 5 to 8.)
Dr. Rydberg formulates a theory identifying Völund with Thiazi,
the giant who carried off Idunn. It is based chiefly on arguments
from names and other philological considerations, and gives perhaps
undue weight to the authority of Saxo. It is difficult to see any
fundamental likenesses in the stories.
The Old English references to Weland are in the _Waldere_ fragment
and the _Lament of Deor_. For the Franks Casket, see Professor
Napier's discussion, with photographs, in the _English Miscellany_
(Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1901). The _Thidreks Saga_ (sometimes
called _Vilkina Saga_), was edited by Unger (Christiania, 1853),
and by Hylten-Cavallius (1880). There are two German translations:
by Rassmann (_Heldensage,_ (1863), and by Von der Hagen (_Nordische
Heldenromane_, 1873).
_The Volsungs_. (Pages 8 to 27.)
As divided in most editions the poems connected with the Volsung cycle,
including the two on Ermanric, are fifteen in number:
_Gripisspa_.
_Reginsmal, Fafnismal, Sigrdrifumal_, a continued narrative compiled
from different sources.
_Sigurd Fragment_, on the death of Sigurd.
_First Gudrun Lay_, on Gudrun's mourning, late.
_Short Sigurd Lay_ (called _Long Brynhild Lay_ in the _Corpus
Poeticum_; sometimes called _Third Sigurd Lay_). style late.
_Brynhild's Hellride_, a continuation of the preceding.
_Second_, or _Old, Gudrun Lay_, is also late. It contains more kennings
than are usual in Eddic poetry, and the picture of Gudrun's sojourn in
Denmark and the tapestry she wrought with Thora Halfdan's daughter,
together with the descriptions of her suitors, belong to a period
which had a taste for colour and elaboration of detail.
_Third Gudrun Lay_, or the _Ordeal of Gudrun_ (after her marriage to
Atli), is romantic in character. The Gothic hero Thjodrek (Dietrich)
is introduced.
_Oddrun's Lament_, in which Gunnar's death is caused by an intrigue
with Atli's sister Oddrun, marks the disintegration of the Volsung
legend.
The two Atli Lays _(Atlakvida_ and _Atlamal_, the latter of Greenland
origin), deal with the death of Gunnar and Högni, and Gudrun's
vengeance on Atli.
_Gudrun's Lament_ and _Hamthismal_ belong to the Ermanric cycle.
_Volsung Paraphrases_. (Page 11.)
_Skaldskaparmal, Völsunga Saga_ and _Norna-Gests Thattr_ (containing
another short paraphrase) are all included in Dr. Wilken's _Die
Prosaische Edda_ (Paderborn, 1878). There is an English version of
_Völsunga_ by Magnusson and Morris (London, 1870) and a German version
of _Völsunga_ and _Norna-Gest_ by Edzardi.
_Nibelungenlied_. (Page 11.)
Editions by Bartsch (Leipzig, 1895) and Zarncke (Halle, 1899);
translation into modern German by Simrock.
_Signy and Siggeir_. (Page 13.)
Saxo Grammaticus (Book vii.) tells the story of a Signy, daughter
of Sigar, whose lover Hagbard, after slaying her brothers, wins her
favour. Sigar in vengeance had him strangled on a hill in view of
Signy's windows, and she set fire to her house that she might die
simultaneously with her lover. The antiquity of part at least of this
story is proved by the kenning "Hagbard's collar" for halter, in a
poem probably of the tenth century. On the other hand, a reference
in _Völsunga Saga_, that "Haki and Hagbard were great and famous
men, yet Sigar carried off their sister, ... and they were slow to
vengeance," shows that there is confusion somewhere. It seems possible
that Hagbard's story has been contaminated with a distorted account
of the Volsung Signy, civilised as usual by Saxo, with an effect of
vulgarity absent from the primitive story.