THE USE OF FICTION IN THE HEROIC POEMS.
The question how far the use of fiction was permitted in heroic poetry
is of course one to which we cannot possibly hope to give a definite
answer. All poetry which deserves the name claims to do something
more than provide a bare record of facts. According to the ancient
definition[221] its proper function is to express the universal rather
than the particular--what may happen or may have happened rather
than what has happened. Some freedom of play for the imagination is
therefore essential. These remarks hold good for early Teutonic poetry
just as much as for Greek. If we could recover the poems recited in
Attila's presence (cf. p. 84) we should doubtless find that they
contained far more than a mere statement of facts. In the works which
have come down to us however the degree to which freedom is allowed
to the imagination varies very greatly from case to case. Thus in the
poem on the battle of Brunanburh it is restricted within comparatively
narrow limits, while in the almost contemporaneous Hákonarmál the
historical fact on which the poem is based is very largely obscured by
a wholly fictitious narrative. We may naturally expect that the authors
of heroic poems likewise differed in the treatment of their subjects,
though not necessarily to the same degree.
As an instance of a poem which obviously contains a large amount of
fiction we can hardly do better than take the Anglo-Saxon Widsith. The
greater part of this poem consists, as we have seen, of a speech by a
minstrel enumerating the various peoples and princes with whom he was
acquainted. Amongst others he states that he had visited the Gothic
king Eormenric (who died before 375), the Burgundian king Guthhere
(who died about 437) and the Langobardic king Aelfwine (who died about
572). Now it is commonly held that the poem is of composite formation,
and there can be little doubt that additions have been made to it from
time to time. This will account for statements such as those given
above and, though it does not prevent them from being fictitious, it
may enable us to form some idea as to how fiction was used. Poets of
the seventh century probably possessed no chronological tables, and
consequently they may not have been aware that the foreign princes of
whom they were speaking belonged to quite different ages. Yet without
such knowledge the visits of the minstrel may clearly be placed among
the 'things which may have happened.' What these poets certainly did
know was that Eormenric was a prominent figure in some traditional
stories, Guthhere in others. It did no violence to the story (μῦθος)
itself to bring an anonymous character into contact both with Eormenric
and Guthhere, although doubtless no one would have done this while
either of the two was alive or indeed for some time after their death.
But we must not in such cases apply the principle that, since _A_ comes
into contact with both _B_ and _C_, therefore _B_ may come into contact
with _C_--and conclude from it that poets of the seventh century
thought it right to bring Eormenric and Guthhere together in the same
story. That is a more advanced stage and one for which we have no
satisfactory evidence in Anglo-Saxon poetry[222].
Now, if we turn to the Old Norse poems, which date of course from a
much later period, we certainly find this stage reached. Here Guðrún,
the sister of Gunnarr (Guthhere), is represented as the mother of
Svanhildr, the wife of Iörmunrekr (Eormenric), as well as of Hamðir
and Sörli who attacked that king. It is to be observed that there is
no hint of a connection between this story and that of the Burgundian
family except in Norse literature. Even here Guðrún is the sole
connecting link between the two stories, and there can be little doubt
that the confusion is due to a mistaken identification of two different
women. In the account of Iörmunrekr given by Saxo, who apparently
knows nothing of the Norse version of the story of Sigurðr, Guðrún is
the name given not indeed to the mother of Hamðir and Sörli but to a
sorceress consulted by them. If the wife of Sigurðr had originally the
same name the difficulty would be capable of explanation; and it is to
be remembered that the evidence for believing that she was originally
called Grímhildr (Kriemhilt) is by no means of a conclusive character.
For the identification of persons bearing the same name we may compare
the confusion which pervades Scandinavian tradition in regard to the
various kings called Fróði[223].
In other cases where we find two stories which seem to be wholly
irreconcilable with one another, the difficulty can be traced to the
misinterpretation of an epithet. Thus the relationships and adventures
of the Swedish kings mentioned in Beowulf differ a good deal from
what is recorded of the same persons in Norse literature. In Beowulf
the Swedish king Ongentheow has two sons Onela and Ohthere, the
former of whom is married to a sister of the Danish kings Hrothgar
and Halga[224]. Strife breaks out between Onela and his two nephews,
Eanmund and Eadgils, the sons of Ohthere (who is perhaps dead); Eanmund
is slain, but Eadgils with the help of Beowulf succeeds in defeating
and killing his uncle and gaining for himself the throne. In Norse
tradition Aðils (Eadgils) is the son and successor of Óttarr (Ohthere),
but the grandfather is called Egill and there is no mention of Eanmund.
Aðils again is married to Yrsa, who is both the wife and daughter of
Helgi (Halga)--which is hardly compatible with the account given in
Beowulf. He engages in war with a king Áli (Onela) whom he defeats and
kills with the help of Biarki (Beowulf) and other warriors sent to him
by his stepson Hrólfr Kraki. But Áli is said to be a Norwegian, and
there is no hint of any relationship on his part to either the Swedish
or the Danish royal family.
In this story it seems clear that the Norse tradition has been led
astray by a misinterpretation of the expression _hinn Upplenzki_ ('the
man of the Uplands'), which is applied to Áli. There was a district
called Upplönd in Norway, but it was also the name of the Swedish
province in which the capital (Upsala) was situated. Since, according
to Beowulf, Onela was the actual king of the Swedes, there can be no
doubt that it was the latter to which the title originally referred.
The erroneous identification with the Norwegian district--natural
enough in Norse tradition--led to the idea that Áli was an invader, and
hence to further dislocations in the story.
In the group of stories which cluster round Dietrich von Bern we find a
number of unhistorical situations, which may largely be due to similar
mistakes rather than to deliberate invention. Thus when Dietrich
appears at Etzel's court, as in all German authorities, including
Thiðreks Saga af Bern, it is probable that the hero has been confused
with his father (Theodemir), who, as we know from Jordanes, was really
subject to Attila. This situation cannot be traced in Anglo-Saxon
poetry, while in Old Norse literature (apart from Thiðreks Saga) it
is limited to Guðrúnarkviða III[225] and the prose introduction to
Guðrúnarkviða II, which is believed to be derived from the other poem.
The association of Dietrich with Siegfried occurs only in Thiðreks Saga
and some of the later German poems, which seem to invent combinations
quite freely[226].
But a much larger number of authorities, including the Annals of
Quedlinburg, bring Dietrich into connection with Ermanrich and the
early Gothic hero Wittich; and this combination is believed to be of
much greater antiquity, as the names Theodric and Widia are associated
also in the Anglo-Saxon poem Waldhere. Here we are confronted with
a question of great difficulty. The association of Theodric and
Eormenric is unknown to all the early Scandinavian authorities, and
even in Germany it cannot be traced back beyond the end of the tenth
century; in the old Hildebrandslied Dietrich's enemy is called Otachar,
i.e. Odoacer. Further, apart from the passage in Waldhere, there is
little or no decisive evidence for a knowledge of the story of Dietrich
von Bern in England[227]; for the statement in Deor that Theodric
possessed the _Maeringa burg_ for thirty years may just as probably be
applied to the exile of Wolfdietrich with Berchtung of Meran[228]. Now
Dietrich and Wolfdietrich must be confused to some extent in German
tradition, since they are both credited with an exile of thirty years.
Perhaps this confusion goes deeper than is generally recognised. The
true explanation may be that a considerable portion of Wolfdietrich's
story has been transferred to his namesake. I cannot admit that the
identification of Wolfdietrich with the Frankish king Theodberht is
anything more than a very doubtful hypothesis; he may really have been
an early Gothic prince[229]. Certainly the name was extremely common in
that nation, for we meet with four Gothic kings called Theodric within
half a century of one another.
* * * * *
So far we have been dealing with stories which have been
distorted--apparently in quite late times--either by mistaken
identifications or by an erroneous interpretation of some title or
incident. The lapse of time in itself will account for some of these
changes, especially if we bear in mind the influence of Stage III (cf.
p. 94 ff.), through which the stories have passed both in Germany
and in the North. Fiction of a type however, especially the tendency
towards combination, is certainly not wanting. In the medieval German
poems indeed it is widely used and on a scale far more ambitious than
what we have observed in Widsith. Here however we have to take into
account the influence of romantic poetry. The nature of the use of
fiction in the North is not so clear. If it could be proved that such
stories as those of Oddrún and the ordeal of Guðrún originated in
the North we should certainly have to grant that it was of a fairly
advanced type.
Now we must consider certain cases which seem to have originated in
much earlier times. As an instance we may take the Norse story that
Atli was murdered by Guðrún. Now this story conflicts with what appear
to be the true facts in two distinct points: (i) that Attila was
murdered at all; (ii) that the person who was present with him when he
died was anyone whom we can identify with Guðrún. The story that Attila
was murdered by a woman is, as we have seen, one of great antiquity;
but there is nothing to show that this woman was Guðrún. It is true
that Norse and German tradition agree in stating that Attila married a
sister of Guthhere. This is a statement which cannot be proved, though
there is nothing intrinsically improbable in such a marriage. But both
traditions represent Attila and his Burgundian wife as married for a
number of years, and both speak of their children. Yet there can be
little doubt that according to the original story Attila was murdered
by his bride (Ildico) on the night of the wedding. Hence we must surely
trace the origin of the Norse story to a combination between two much
earlier traditions: (1) that Attila married a sister of Guthhere;
(2) that Attila was murdered by his wife. In view of the story of
Guthhere's death--which is common to both traditions and undoubtedly
ancient--it required but little poetic imagination to identify the two
women and to represent the murder as an act of vengeance. I see no
ground for supposing that this combination took place before the Viking
Age. The other story is of course much older; but the evidence seems to
me to point to an origin in common report rather than in poetic fiction.
The story of Hamðir and Sörli is a somewhat different case. Here again,
as we have already seen, Guthhere's sister was drawn into the story
only in the Norse version and probably quite late. But even before this
time it contained features which cannot be regarded as historical.
In the Danish (Saxo's) version also Svanhildr appears as the wife of
Iörmunrekr; but there is no satisfactory evidence for this except in
the North, and it is clearly contrary to Jordanes' account. Again, the
North German form of the story[230] agreed with the Northern versions
in stating that the king lost both his hands and both his feet in
the encounter. Consequently this feature may be regarded as at least
comparatively ancient; but it seems not to be known to Jordanes. As
in the last case, therefore, we can trace the gradual development
of the story more or less clearly. In its earliest known form, as
given by Jordanes, Svanhildr is said to have been the wife of a man
(apparently the prince of a dependent tribe) who deserted Eormenric
(perhaps by joining the Huns). To punish his disloyalty the king had
her tied to wild horses and thus torn to pieces. In an attempt to
avenge this outrage her brothers gave him a serious wound, which was
partly the cause of his death[231]. In the last point Jordanes may
have been trying to combine the tradition with another account of
Eormenric's death which he knew from historical sources. Otherwise the
story contains nothing incredible[232]. Yet the element of fiction
was probably present from the beginning. In the earlier stages its
influence may be detected at least in the elaboration of the incident
and in exaggeration of its effects, whereas in later times it shows
itself in the invention of relationships and in false combinations.
Next we will take the story of Beowulf's death, which has the great
advantage of being preserved in an early form. This story may be
regarded in a sense as pure fiction. Strictly speaking however it
consists of at least three distinct elements: (i) Beowulf's encounter
with the dragon, (ii) the hero's funeral, (iii) incidental references
to the past history of the Geatas. The last element is in part, and
probably to a very large extent, founded on fact; so we will confine
our attention to the other two. The account of the hero's funeral is
a good illustration of Aristotle's dictum as to the true function of
poetry--to express the universal rather than the particular. We have
no reason for supposing that the poet had any information regarding
Beowulf's real funeral. The description which he composed is that of
such a funeral as might reasonably be expected for a man of Beowulf's
rank and reputation. But the same remark is largely true also of the
first element. Grant that the latter part of Beowulf's career was
really unknown and that, through confusion with an earlier hero, it had
come to be said that he perished in an encounter with a dragon--nearly
all the rest[233] can be attributed to the same faculty for elaboration
which we find in the funeral scene. More imagination perhaps was
required in this case; but it must not be supposed that our author was
the first to describe an encounter of this kind. Far more probably he
was working upon a theme which in his time was already well worn.
* * * * *
We have now seen that fiction in early times shows itself especially in
the way of elaboration, or perhaps we may say in the structure of the
story[234]. The subject itself (the μῦθος) may be based upon fact or
upon common report or rumour which was clearly false or even totally
incredible, as in the last instance. But I know of no story, dealing
with historical characters, which can be shown to be the product of
deliberate and conscious invention. We have still however to consider
the most important question of all. Did the use of fiction include the
invention of characters?
It is not safe to assume this. We know that some of the characters are
historical in most of the heroic stories. On the other hand it is not
obvious that a single one of the characters mentioned in the primary
authorities is fictitious[235]. This being so it is unreasonable to
take the view that characters should be regarded as fictitious, unless
they can be proved to be historical[236]. On the contrary, until the
use of fictitious characters is proved there is a decided presumption
in favour of believing any given character to be historical--unless of
course his name or some other special circumstance gives clear ground
for suspicion.
Wiglaf is a character known to us only in connection with the story of
Beowulf and the dragon. Consequently he may be regarded with a certain
amount of suspicion. But in one passage it is stated that his father,
Weoxtan, had served under the Swedish king Onela and slain Eanmund, the
brother of Eadgils. Now in the Kalfsvísa (cf. p. 20) we find a Vésteinn
mentioned among those who accompanied Áli (Onela) to the 'ice,' i.e. to
the battle on the frozen lake Vener, in which that king lost his life.
This can hardly be a different person. But if we grant the identity
chronological considerations render it highly improbable that he is a
fictitious character.
A somewhat different case is presented by another of the characters
which figure in Beowulf, namely Unferth, the Danish king's 'spokesman.'
The name does not occur elsewhere in English works, and it is of an
unusual, though by no means unknown, type[237]. According to the
current explanation name and character are alike fictitious, the
former being framed to express the man's malevolent disposition.
He is said (vv. 587 f., 1167 f.) to have killed his brothers, and
on Beowulf's arrival he soon proceeds to wrangle with him[238].
But against this stands the fact that his father is called Ecglaf,
an ordinary unsymbolical name, while his quarrel with Beowulf is
afterwards amicably settled. It seems to me therefore that the
hypothesis is at best uncertain. We may note that Hrothgar's other
retainers (Wulfgar, Aeschere, Yrmenlaf) bear names which betray no
special significance.
A somewhat similar interpretation, though on a more ambitious scale,
is applied to the story of Hamðir and Sörli[239]. The name _Sunilda_
(for _Sōnahildi_ or _Sōnihilds_) is supposed to have been chosen for
Eormenric's victim in order to express the fact that her death was an
'expiation' (O. High Germ. _suona_) of the offence committed by her
husband, while Hamðir and Sörli themselves have got their names from
their armour (O. Norse _hamr_, A.-S. _hama_, etc.; Goth. _sarwa_,
A.-S. _searu_). Now an interpretation of this kind deserves careful
consideration when it provides a reasonable and more or less simple
explanation of the names involved; but not otherwise. In this case
it is held, contrary to all analogies, that the name _Hamðir_ (for
_Hama-þius_[240]) is extended from an earlier Gothic form _Hamjis_
(Jordanes' _Ammius_). But even then the etymology is hardly rendered
any more probable; for _ham-_ by itself can only mean 'dress,'
'covering.' It is only when compounded with words meaning 'war' (as
in A.-S. _guð-hama_) that it can be used in the sense of 'mail-coat.'
Again, _Sörli_ is regarded--and this is probably correct--as a
diminutive of _Sarus_, which is held to represent Goth. _sarws_, though
no such word is known (in any Teutonic language) except as a proper
name. What is important to notice however is that a Gothic prince
of this name was fighting in Italy in the year 405, i.e. little more
than thirty years after Eormenric's death. Lastly, we may note that
there appears to be no satisfactory evidence for regarding _Svan-_ (in
_Svanhildr_) as a transformation ('Umformung') of _Sōn-_[241]. Such
a change would be intelligible enough if the name had become known
through a document written in Latin letters; but that is a hypothesis
which we need not discuss. As the evidence stands, considering the
extremely corrupt state of the proper names given by Jordanes, it
is far more probable that his form has lost an _-a-_, than that the
Northern name has been changed. The conclusion therefore to which
we are brought is that, whether the story be fictitious or not, its
interpretation must be considered without regard to such etymological
speculations as these[242].
I am far from denying of course that the etymological interpretation is
applicable in its proper sphere. We have a reasonably safe instance in
the name _Widsith_ (cf. p. 44), as well as in the case of characters
derived from folk-tale or myth. In particular we have the eponymous
ancestors of families and even nations. But these are not characters
invented by the poet himself. Further they are always referred to a
more or less distant past, and their occurrence in heroic poetry is not
very common.
Next we will take the stories of Waldhere and Sigurðr. Here again the
etymological interpretation is often brought forward, especially in
connection with the women's names; but on the whole it is of minor
importance. Now we have seen that several of the chief characters,
Guthhere, Hagena and Attila, are common to both these stories. There is
no question of course that Guthhere and Attila are historical persons;
but for Hagena this cannot be proved. If he is fictitious, then one
of the two stories necessarily presupposes the other. But it is by no
means clear to which of them we should assign the priority. There is no
valid reason for doubting that both of them go back to the Heroic Age.
The story of Waldhere contains no feature which can be regarded as
intrinsically improbable if allowance be made firstly for poetic
elaboration, and secondly for the influence of Stage III (cf. p. 94
ff.). To the first we may perhaps assign the account of the single
combats; to the second probably the somewhat grotesque conclusion of
the last fight, as given by Ekkehard, and certainly the discrepancy
which prevails in regard to the hero's origin. Ekkehard[243] says
that his father (Alpharius) was king of Aquitaine, while the medieval
German poems speak both of Spanie (Spain) and Lengers (Langres) as
his home. Now the name _Aquitani_ cannot be taken from an old native
poem, and the same remark is probably true of _Spanie_. Moreover, if
we were to suppose that the hero belonged to either of these regions
we should have to conclude that he was a Visigoth. As a matter of fact
this conclusion is generally accepted; but it involves, obviously
enough, many difficulties. Langres however is scarcely open to any
such objection, and it further has the advantage of proximity to
Chalon-sur-Saône, which according to Ekkehard was the home of Hiltgund.
These districts must have been occupied at some time by settlers from
the lower Rhine, as appears from the names _Pagus Attoariorum_ and
_Pagus Amauorum_, the former of which lies directly between Chalon
and Langres. We have no definite evidence as to when the occupation
took place, but probably it was considerably anterior to the time of
Clovis[244]. Small Teutonic communities of this kind were doubtless too
insignificant to be mentioned in the scanty chronicles of that age; but
there is nothing unlikely in the story that children belonging to their
princely families were given as hostages to the Huns.
The case of Sigurðr must be considered independently of the hero's
youthful adventures, which, as we have seen, are probably to be
regarded as later accretions to the story. Hence it is practically
only in connection with the Burgundian royal house that the hero is
known[245], and as soon as we lose sight of this we drift at once into
fruitless speculation. The story represents Sigurðr as wealthy, brave
and personally attractive; but it does not credit him with achievements
which changed the destiny of nations. Consequently he is not the
type of person whom we could reasonably expect to find mentioned in
the chronicles of that period. Guðrún (Kriemhild) again is unknown
to history; we do not even know that Guthhere had a sister. But we
are certainly not justified in assuming either that such a person
never existed or that she could not have married a prince from the
Netherlands. The same remarks, mutatis mutandis, apply to the case of
Brynhildr, the king's wife.
From the analysis given on p. 146 it will be seen that the original
story appears to have contained two features which we may more or
less safely regard as fictitious. One of course is the disguise; the
other is the incident of the ring. In the former case the two versions
differ--from which we may perhaps infer that this feature was not very
clearly indicated in the original form of the story. The incident of
the ring also is introduced in quite different circumstances. But at
the same time it is really the central feature of the plot; for the
ring is the instrument chosen to bring about the ἀναγνώρισις--the
recognition by Brynhildr of the deception which has been played upon
her. This is an incident such as we frequently find in modern works of
fiction. Yet it cannot by itself be held to prove the fictitious origin
either of the characters or of the story as a whole. It may equally
well be regarded as a device for explaining the subsequent course of
events, in which case we may set it down as an instance of poetic
elaboration.
Perhaps the objection may be raised that the sequel--Brynhildr's
resentment against Sigurðr--necessarily presupposes the deception
practised upon her and that this deception is in both versions of a
supernatural character. That is doubtless true; but the explanation
is not far to seek. Both versions of the story are really aware of a
previous acquaintance between Sigurðr and Brynhildr. In the Völsunga
Saga[246] we hear of two distinct meetings, firstly when he awakens her
from the enchanted sleep (cap. 20 f.) and again when he woos her on
his visit to Heimir (cap. 24). If Brynhildr is really to be identified
with the sleeping valkyrie, these two accounts may be regarded as
variants of one original story. On the other hand the Grípisspá treats
the two events separately, like the saga, though unlike the saga it
does not identify Brynhildr with the valkyrie. Both forms of the story
however agree that there had been some meeting, through which Brynhildr
had been led to expect marriage with Sigurðr. Now the Nibelungenlied
says nothing of a relationship of this kind. But at the same time it
states more than once--without any explanation--that Siegfried had
known Brünhild and her dwelling. There is some ground therefore for
suspecting that a portion of the story has been suppressed or lost in
the German version. If so, then the explanation of the supernatural
disguise becomes clear enough. It is a device, doubtless an ancient
device[247], for saving the hero's character. Then also we obtain a
much stronger motive for Brynhildr's resentment. It was a case not
merely of deception but of faithlessness. There is nothing incredible
in that, though in real life the ἀναγνώρισις would probably come about
in a different way.
If the story is fictitious--i.e. if Sigurðr, Brynhildr, Högni, Guðrún
(Kriemhild) and all their doings are creations of fancy--one conclusion
at all events must, I think, be accepted. Such a story must be the
product of the brain of one gifted poet; it cannot be the result of a
fortuitous concourse of lays by different authors. The analysis shows
that the strength of the story lies chiefly in that element which
is common to both versions. Here we have the character-studies of
Brynhildr and Högni; for even in the Nibelungenlied, greatly defaced
as they are, the original outlines can still be traced. The plot too
conforms to the highest standard of tragic art. It has complete unity
in itself[248]; all the characters are more or less sympathetic; and
the hero's downfall is due not to any villainy (μοχθηρία) on his
own part, but to a great error (ἁμαρτία). Lastly, whatever view may
be taken as to the fate of Brynhildr--a point in which the versions
differ--nothing could be more tragic than the grief of Guðrún
(Kriemhild), which is common to both. For the creation of a story
possessing all these features--a story too which lived in different
parts of Europe for many centuries under somewhat unfavourable
conditions--we must surely assume not only a talented poet but also a
poem of some considerable length.
I do not of course regard this as a conclusive argument for believing
that the story is based on fact. For even in that case its presentation
would require epic form, as well as poetic talent. The decision between
the two interpretations rests ultimately on the question whether such a
story is more likely to have been invented or drawn from life. It seems
probable that some of the characters added in the Norse version are
products of fiction. But here we have to deal with a period removed by
many ages from the times to which the story relates, and with a people
who had developed the cultivation of imaginative poetry to a very
high standard. The origin of the story however must surely date from
a period when Guthhere and the Burgundian kingdom on the Rhine were
still remembered. In that period we have no positive evidence for the
composition of fiction at all, much less for fiction of this extremely
elaborate type. On the other hand we have in Procopius' account of
Irmingisl and Radiger (cf. p. 97 ff.), written within six or seven
years of the events, practically all the materials for the composition
of an epic poem on a very similar subject. Indeed they can hardly be
called merely crude materials; for certain incidents are depicted, in
poetic fashion, rather than related, and even the supernatural element
is not wanting. The evidence of this passage seems to me to tell
decidedly in favour of the view that the story of Sigurðr is founded on
fact[249].
* * * * *
In the course of this chapter we have examined a number of heroic
stories with a view to determining how and to what extent fiction has
been employed in their composition. We have seen that in early times
its influence was shown chiefly in the imaginative presentation or
structure of stories, some of which were founded on fact, others on
popular report or rumour which frequently introduced elements from
folk-tales, occasionally even from myth. All such cases however may be
included among the 'things that may have happened,' if we take into
account the spirit of the times. On the other hand for the composition
of wholly fictitious narratives--narratives which the author himself
knew to be fictitious--and more especially for the deliberate invention
of characters there seems to be no conclusive evidence in the stories
which we have considered; and I am not aware of any others for which
a stronger case could be made out. I am not prepared of course to
state dogmatically that such fiction was not known. The case is far
too uncertain for such a statement as that; there is no question here
of such gross improbabilities as those which beset the hypothesis of
'rationalised myth.' One is certainly entitled to doubt whether all
the characters even in early poems, such as Beowulf, are taken from
life. But if we grant, as I think we must, the existence of earlier
poems dealing with the Danish court, there is nothing incredible in the
supposition.
These remarks apply of course only to poems belonging to Stage I and
Stage II. The effect of Stage III was to disintegrate the stories and
to introduce unhistorical elements of all kinds. Hence in poems of
Stage IV we meet with numerous situations which are quite incompatible
either with history or with the older forms of the traditions. In the
same period we find also many fictitious characters, not only in the
German poems, where they may be ascribed to romantic influence, but
also probably in those of the North.
There is one type of fiction which we have not taken into account in
our discussion. Various scholars from time to time have put forward the
theory that some of the chief characters of the Heroic Age are really
well-known historical persons under fictitious names. Thus Sigurðr
has been identified with a number of famous princes from Arminius to
Sigebert. It cannot be said that any one of these identifications is
of a nature to carry conviction; in no case indeed have they gained
wide acceptance. But I cannot help thinking that an error in principle
underlies the whole theory. It was scarcely through the greatness of
their power, much less through the effects of their achievements on
after generations, that the characters of the Heroic Age acquired
celebrity; it was far more through the impression made upon their
neighbours and contemporaries by their magnificence and generosity,
by their personality, and perhaps above all by the adventures and
vicissitudes of fortune which fell to their lot. This is a question to
which we shall have to return in a later chapter.
FOOTNOTES:
[221] Aristotle, _Poet._ IX: ὁ γὰρ ἱστορικὸς καὶ ὁ ποιητὴς ...
διαφέρουσιν ... τῷ τὸν μὲν τὰ γενόμενα λέγειν, τὸν δὲ οἷα ἂν γένοιτο.
διὸ καὶ φιλοσοφώτερον καὶ σπουδαιότερον ποίησις ἱστορίας ἐστίν· ἡ μὲν
γὰρ ποίησις μᾶλλον τὰ καθόλου, ἡ δ' ἱστορία τὰ καθ' ἕκαστον λέγει.
[222] In Wids., v. 112 ff. we find a list of Gothic heroes belonging
to various ages introduced by the expression _innweorud Earmanrices_
('Eormenric's household-troop'); but this expression need not be
interpreted literally with reference to the whole list.
[223] Frotho I and Frotho III were no doubt originally identical; but
the confusion extends also (especially in Skiöldunga Saga) to Frotho
IV (the Froda of Beowulf), who cannot reasonably be connected with the
others (cf. p. 124, note).
[224] The MS. here (v. 62) is defective, but no other interpretation is
probable.
[225] The MS. once has Thióðmar, as against two examples of Thióðrekr
in the verses and one in the introduction. Is it really impossible that
the name has been altered by a scribe familiar with Thiðreks Saga? Cf.
Jónsson, _Oldn. Litteraturs Historie_, I 295.
[226] This tendency is doubtless due largely to the influence of
romantic poetry.
[227] Prof. Brandl, _Grundriss_, II 953, calls attention to the fact
that the Bernician king Ida is said to have had two sons called
Theodric and Theodhere. But is not the date rather early? The
occurrence of the name _Sigesteb_ in the council of Ecgberht, king of
Wessex (Birch, 395), is perhaps stronger evidence. The name _Omulung_
which is found more than a century earlier (Birch, 76, 116) scarcely
necessitates acquaintance with the story of Dietrich von Bern.
[228] The case would be different if it could be proved that the person
described as _skati Marika_ (_Maringa_) in the inscription of Rök was
Dietrich von Bern.
[229] It is worth noting that in Widsith, v. 115, Seafola and Theodric
(i.e. Saben and Wolfdietrich) appear among the Gothic heroes.
[230] This version (represented by the Ann. Quedl., cf. p. 37, note),
like the Norse, added a third brother, though he bears a different
name. But the person killed, whose name is not given, is said to have
been the father of the brothers, not their sister.
[231] _Hermanaricus rex Gothorum ... de Hunorum ... aduentu dum
cogitat, Rosomonorum gens infida, quae tunc inter alias illi famulatum
exhibebat, tali eum nanciscitur occasione decipere. dum enim quandam
mulierem, Sunildam nomine, ex gente memorata, pro mariti fraudulento
discessu rex furore commotus equis ferocibus inligatam incitatisque
cursibus per diuersa diuelli praecepisset, fratres eius Sarus et Ammius
germanae obitum uindicantes, Hermanarici latus ferro petierunt; quo
uulnere saucius, aegram uitam corporis imbecillitate contraxit.... inter
haec Hermanaricus tam uulneris dolorem, quam etiam Hunorum incursiones
non ferens ... defunctus est_ (cap. 24).
[232] The Frankish queen Brunhild was put to death in a similar way in
the year 613. We may also compare the Thuringian atrocities described
by Gregory of Tours (III 7).
[233] The chief exception is the part played by Wiglaf; possibly also
the incident of the cowardly knights.
[234] ἡ τῶν πραγμάτων σύστασις (Aristotle, _Poet._ VI 9).
[235] For the case of Widsith see p. 56 f. Supernatural beings, such
as Grendel, and mythical personages of the past, such as Scyld, cannot
fairly be regarded as exceptions, since it is not at all likely
that they were invented by the poet himself. They figure largely in
skaldic poems of the Viking Age (e.g. Hákonarmál) which probably never
introduce fictitious contemporary characters. On the other hand some of
the characters in the Edda poems may have been invented in the North.
[236] This must be emphasized because one constantly finds theories of
fictitious origin introduced with some sentence such as the following:
'It has not yet been proved that this story has any historical
foundation.' Such an attitude seems to me not only unreasonable but
wrong in principle.
[237] Cf. _Unwona_, the name of a bishop of Leicester who died about
the beginning of the ninth century, and _Unwine_ (_Unwenes_, Gen.), the
name of Eastgota's son (Wids. 114). The name _Unfrid_ itself occurs in
Germany during the eighth and ninth centuries.
[238] Prof. Olrik (_Danmarks Heltedigtning_, p. 25 ff.) suggests
further that he was the instigator of a quarrel between Hrothwulf
and Hrothgar or his sons. But I cannot help thinking that his
interpretation of vv. 1166 ff., ingenious as it undoubtedly is, goes a
good deal beyond what the passage actually warrants.
[239] Cf. Jiriczek, _Deutsche Heldensagen_, I 63 f., Sijmons,
_Grundriss_, III² 683.
[240] The true form is probably _Hami-_. It is surely far more probable
that _Ammius_ is a shortened (hypocoristic) form from the compound name
(cf. A.-S. _Hemma_, _Hemmi_). But in that case of course we shall have
to conclude that the name had been familiar for some time before it
came to Jordanes' knowledge.
[241] No argument can be based upon the name _Suanailta_ which is
found in a document at St Gall dating from 786 (in conjunction with
other names which show a knowledge of the story of Eormenric), for it
may contain either _swan-_ or _sōn-_. It is admitted that the name
_Swanahilt_ was in use.
[242] With how much greater plausibility could the name _Eormenric_ be
accounted for! Had it not been for the incidental reference to this
king in Ammianus Marcellinus' history, nothing could possibly have
saved him from being regarded as a purely fictitious personage.
[243] In Ekkehard's case the influence of Stage III is supplemented
or amended by erudition. The national names which he gives (_Franci_,
_Burgundia_, etc.) are accommodated to the political divisions of his
own time.
[244] Cf. Zeuss, _Die Deutschen und die Nachbarstämme_, p. 582 ff.,
where a much earlier date is suggested.
[245] It is impossible here to enter into a criticism of theories such
as those brought forward in Boer's _Untersuchungen über den Ursprung
und die Entwickelung der Nibelungensage_.
[246] Owing to the great lacuna in the MS. of the Edda (cf. p. 13) the
poems which dealt with this part of the story are lost.
[247] The story may have come to the North in two different forms, one
of which related the wooing of Brynhildr by Sigurðr, while the other,
a later form, contained the incident of the supernatural disguise. But
it is also possible that even the original poem or poems on the subject
dealt with this incident, though without altogether suppressing the
previous relations between Sigurðr and Brynhildr.
[248] There is no need to assume that the story of Guthhere's death was
embodied in the same poem, though the two were doubtless connected from
quite early times.
[249] It would be difficult to doubt its historical origin if it
could be proved that the hero's father was originally identical with
Sigemund the son of Waelse (Völsungr), who figures in Beowulf; for the
two stories are almost entirely independent of each other and refer
to quite different regions. The adventure with the dragon, which is
related both of Sigurðr and Sigemund, shows that they were connected in
very early times. Still I know no real proof of original identity.