SUPERSTITIONS.—SHAPE-CHANGING.
Popular belief in the power of shape-changing—Journeys taken under
assumed shapes—The language of birds—Use of animal food to incite
to bravery—The drink of oblivion.
We have many instances in the Sagas showing that there was a popular
belief in the power of some persons to change their shape[381]
(_hamhleypa_), either by their own will or by the power of witchcraft.
No matter into what animal shape an individual had been changed, no
spell could ever touch the human eye, which remained unchangeable.
Men often undertook journeys under an assumed shape, in which case their
own body was supposed to lie as dead, in a magical sleep; and a spirit
was considered most fit for a journey when it was in animal shape: the
name of the person who was on the journey was never to be mentioned, and
it was considered most important that a sleeper should not be aroused,
for if disturbed the whole enchantment was destroyed.
Women who undertook journeys in such animal shapes were called
_hamhleypa_, or runners under another shape.
“It is said that Ulf, a hersir,[382] every night became so cross that no
one could speak to him, and that in the evening the _sleeping sickness_
came over him, so that he fell asleep. But there were those who said
that he could change his shape and roam about far away as a wild beast,
and that it was only his body which sat sleeping in the house; therefore
his name was lengthened, and he was called _Kveldulf_ (Evening Ulf)”
(Egil’s Saga, ch. 1).
“It is mentioned that once when Signy was sitting in her _skemma_[383]
there came to her a Völva very skilled in witchcraft.
Signy spoke to her: ‘I want to exchange shapes with you.’ She said,
‘Thou shalt have thy will;’ so she caused by her witchcraft that they
exchanged appearance; the sorceress sat down on the bed of Signy, as she
told her, and went to bed with the king in the evening, and he did not
know that Signy was not with him. Of Signy it is said that she went to
the earth-house of her brother Sigmund, and asked him to lodge her
during the night, as she had gone astray in the forest, and did not know
where she was. He said she could stay there, and he would not refuse a
lonely woman lodgings, and thought she would not reward him for the good
entertainment by telling where he was. She went into his room and they
sat down to eat; he often looked at her, and she seemed fair and fine to
him.... Thereupon she went home, met the sorceress, and asked to
exchange shapes again, and thus she did. When time passed on Signy gave
birth to a boy, who was called Sinfjötli. When he grew up he was large
and strong and good-looking, and resembled much the Volsunga family; he
was not quite ten winters old when she sent him to Sigmund in the
underground house. She had tried her other sons before she sent them to
Sigmund by sewing gloves to their hands through flesh and skin. They did
not bear it well, and grumbled at it. She did the same to Sinfjötli, and
he did not wince; she tore the kirtle off him so that his skin followed
the sleeves;[384] she said he must feel pain. He answered, ‘Little will
a Volsung feel this pain.’ Then he came to Sigmund, who asked him to
knead their meal while he fetched firewood. He handed him a bag, and
then went after wood. When he returned, Sinfjötli had baked the bread.
Sigmund asked if he had found anything in the meal. He replied, ‘I fancy
there was something alive in the meal when I began to knead it, but I
have kneaded it also herein.’ Sigmund said, laughing: ‘I guess thou wilt
not eat this bread to-night, for thou hast kneaded in it the most
poisonous worm.’ Sigmund was so strong that he could eat poison without
being hurt; and Sinfjötli could stand poison externally,[385] but was
unable to eat or drink it”[386] (Volsunga Saga, c. 7).
“King Hring, of Uppdalir, in Norway, had a son, Björn (bear), and when
his wife died he married a woman from Finnmörk. She changed her stepson
into a bear in this way. She struck him with a wolfskin glove, and said
that he should become a fierce and cruel lair-bear, ‘and use no other
food than the cattle of thy father; thou shalt kill it for thy food, so
much of it that it will be unexampled, and never shalt thou get out of
this spell, and this revenge shall harm thee.’
“Thereafter Björn disappeared, and no one knew what had become of him.
When he was missed he was searched for, and nowhere found, as was
likely. Then it is told that the king’s cattle were killed in large
numbers, as a big and fierce grey bear began to attack them. One evening
the bondi’s daughter (Björn’s sweetheart) happened to see this fierce
bear, which came to her and fondled her much. She thought she recognized
in this bear the eyes of Björn, Hring’s son, and did not shun him much.
The bear walked away, and she followed until it came to a cave. When she
came there a man greeted Bera,[387] the bondi’s daughter. She recognized
Björn, and they were very glad to see each other. They stayed in the
cave for a while, for she would not part before she need. He said it was
unfit for her to stay there with him, as he was a beast by day and a man
by night. King Hring came home from his warfare, and was told what had
occurred while he was away, that his son Björn had disappeared, and a
large beast had come into the country and attacked his own cattle
mostly. The queen urged much to have the beast slain, but it was delayed
a while; the king disliked this, and thought it strange. One night, when
Bera and Björn were in their bed, Björn said, ‘I expect that to-morrow
is my death-day, and that I shall be hunted up, and I take no pleasure
in life because of the ill fate that lies on me, though I have one
enjoyment, namely, that we are two, which will now be changed. I will
give thee the ring which is under my left arm; to-morrow thou wilt see
men who attack me, and when I am dead go to the king and ask him to give
thee what is under the left shoulder of the bear, which he will grant.
The queen will suspect thee when thou goest away, and give thee the
flesh of the animal to eat, but thou shouldst not eat it, for thou art
pregnant, as thou knowest, and wilt bear three boys, who are ours, and
on them will it be seen if thou eatest of the bear’s flesh, and this
queen is the greatest witch. Then go home to thy father, and there bring
up the boys; one of them will seem the worst to thee, and, if thou art
not able to have them at home for the sake of their overbearing and
unruliness, then take them away with thee to this cave. Thou wilt find
here a chest with three compartments; the runes by its side will tell
what is to belong to each of them; three weapons are in the rock, and
each of them shall have the one intended for him. The first-born of our
sons shall be called Thórir, the second Elgfrodi, the third Bödvar, and
I think it probable that they will not be little men, and their names
will long be remembered.’ He foretold her many things, and then the
bear’s skin fell over him. The bear went out, and she after him, and
looked round. She saw many men coming past the spur of the mountain,
with many large dogs in front. The bear ran out of the cave and along
the mountain; the dogs and the king’s men came against it, and it was
difficult to hunt it; it maimed many men before it was slain, and killed
all the dogs. At last they made a circle round it, and it ran in the
circle, and saw that it could not escape; it turned to the king’s side,
caught the man next to him, and tore him asunder alive; then it was so
exhausted that it threw itself down on the ground; they soon rushed at
it and slew it. The bondi’s daughter saw this, went to the king, and
said: ‘Will you, lord, give me what is under the left shoulder of the
bear?’ The king consented, as it could only be a thing well fit to be
given to her. The king’s men had then flayed off much of the skin of the
bear; she went and took the ring, and kept it, but they saw not what she
took, and did not search; the king asked who she was, as he did not know
her; she gave him a wrong name”[388] (Hrolf Kraki, cc. 25, 26).
Some women could shape themselves into a _Mara_ or _Kveldrida_
(evening-rider, or nightmare), in which shape they could hurt or kill
people in their sleep. In the Eidsifja Kristinrett we find that there
was a punishment for women who had this power.
“Geirrid and Gunnlaug conversed during the greater part of the day, and
late in the evening she said to him: ‘I should like thee not to go home
to-night, for many are the _sea-sliders_ (those who slide over the
sea—witches, spirits, etc.), and there are often witches beneath a fair
skin, and thou dost not look very lucky in my eyes now.’ He answered: ‘I
shall not be hurt, as we are two together.’ She said: ‘Odd will be of no
use to thee, and thy self-will is worse for thyself.’ Then Gunnlaug and
Odd left, and went to Holt. Katla was already in her bed, and asked Odd
to invite Gunnlaug to stay; he said he had done so, but he wanted to go
home. ‘Then let him go, and meet what he deserves,’ she answered.
Gunnlaug did not come home in the evening, and they talked about
searching for him, but did not. In the night, when Thorbjörn looked out,
he found his son Gunnlaug at the door; he was lying there, and was mad.
He was carried in and his clothes pulled off. He was bruised and bloody
all over his shoulders, and his flesh torn off the bones. He lay all the
winter in wounds, and his sickness was much talked of. Odd Kötluson said
that Geirrid had ridden on him, as they had parted abruptly that night;
and most people thought it to be so. The next spring, during the
citation days, Thorbjörn rode to Máfahlid and summoned Geirrid, charging
her with being an _evening-rider_ and causing the sickness of Gunnlaug.
The case came to the Thorsnesthing, and Snorri godi helped his
brother-in-law, Thorbjörn, while Arnkel _godi_ defended the case for his
sister, Geirrid. The verdict of twelve (_tylftarkvid_)[389] had to
decide; but neither Snorri nor Arnkel were allowed to deliver the
verdict, on account of their relation to prosecutor and defendant. Then
Helgi Hofgardagodi, the father of Björn, whose son Gest was the father
of Skald-Ref, was called upon to deliver the verdict of the twelve.
Arnkel _godi_ went to the Court and took an oath at the altar-ring that
Geirrid had not caused the sickness of Gunnlaug. Thórarin (a son of
Geirrid) and ten others took oath with him, and then Helgi gave verdict
for her (Geirrid), and the suit of Snorri and Thorbjörn was made void,
and this brought dishonour on them” (Eyrbyggja, c. 16).
It was believed that some people understood the language of birds.[390]
“Dag, the son of King Dyggvi, took the kingship after him; he was so
wise that he could understand the talk of birds. He had a sparrow which
told him many tidings; it flew into various lands. The sparrow once flew
into Reidgotaland, to a farm called Vörvi; it went on the field of the
owner and took food. The owner came there, took up a stone, and wounded
the sparrow to death. King Dag became sorry when the sparrow did not
return; he then made a sacrifice to inquire, and got the answer that his
sparrow had been killed at Vörvi. Then he levied a great host and went
to Gotland, and made warfare and plundered. One evening when he went
down to his ships with his host a thrall ran out of a forest and threw a
pitchfork at them, which hit the king and killed him. His men went back
to Sweden” (Ynglinga Saga, ch. 21).[391]
“One summer when King Olaf’s men had been gathering land-taxes he asked
where they were best treated. They said by an old bondi who knew many
things before they happened, and who had answered many of their
questions, and they thought he understood the voice of birds.” ... The
king took this bondi on board his ship to show the way along the coast.
“As they were rowing a crow flew over the ship with loud shrieks. The
bondi looked at it. The King said: ‘Does it mean anything to thee?’ ‘It
does, lord,’ answered he. Another crow flew over the ship, shrieking.
The bondi forgot to row, and his oar got loose in his hand. The king
said: ‘Thou art very attentive to the crow, or to what it says, bondi.’
He answered: ‘I have some misgivings, lord.’ A crow passed over the ship
a third time, shrieking louder than the two others, and flying nearer
the ship. The bondi rose and stopped rowing. The king said: ‘This
signifies much to thee, or what does it tell?’ The bondi answered: ‘That
which it is unlikely that I or it knows.’ The king said: ‘Tell me.’ The
bondi sang:—
The one winter old crow tells,
It knows not;
The two winters old one tells,
I believe it not;
But the three winters old one tells,
Which I think not likely,
That I row
On a mare’s head,
And that thou, king,
Art the thief of my property.”
(Olaf the Quiet’s Saga (Heimskr.), c. 10.)
Not only was it believed that the form could be changed, but it was
further believed that by eating some peculiar kind of food the temper of
men could be changed. The meat and blood of strong and fierce beasts,
especially of wolves, were held potent to make men brave and fierce, and
thus partake of the nature of animals.
“Thereafter Regin came to Sigurd, and said: ‘Hail, my lord; a great
victory hast thou won, as thou hast slain Fafnir, and no one was so bold
before as to dare to sit in his way, and this deed of fame will be
remembered while the world stands. Regin stood looking on the ground for
a long while, and then suddenly said, with great anger: Thou hast slain
my brother, and scarcely can I be innocent of this deed.’ Sigurd took
his sword _Gram_ and wiped it on the grass, and said to Regin: ‘Thou
wast far off when I did this deed, and tried this sharp sword with my
hand and my strength. I had to fight the power of the serpent, when thou
didst lay in a heather cluster, and didst not know heaven from earth.’
Regin answered: ‘This serpent might have lain long time in his lair if
thou hadst not used the sword which I made for thee with my hand, and
then thou hadst not done this alone.’ Sigurd said: ‘When men come to
fight, it is better to have a good heart than a sharp sword.’ Then Regin
said to him very sadly: ‘Thou didst slay my brother, and scarcely can I
be innocent of this deed.’
“Then Sigurd cut out the serpent’s heart with a sword called _Ridil_.
Regin drank the blood of Fafnir, and said: ‘Do one thing for me which is
easy to thee; go to a fire with the heart and roast it, and give it me
to eat.’ Sigurd went away and roasted it on a spit, and when the blood
came out of it, he touched it with his finger to see if it were roasted;
he put his finger in his mouth, and when the serpent’s heart-blood
touched his tongue he understood the speech of birds; he heard
nuthatches (_Sitta Europæa_) chirp in the brushwood near him—‘There thou
sittest, Sigurd, roasting the heart of Fafnir; he (Sigurd) should eat it
himself, then he would become wiser than any other man.’ Another said:
‘There lies Regin, wishing to betray the one who trusts him.’ The third
one said: ‘Let him (Sigurd) cut off his head, then he can rule alone
over the great gold.’ The fourth one said: ‘He would be wiser if he
acted according to our advice, and rode to the lair of Fafnir, and took
the great gold which is there, and then rode up to Hindarfjall
(Hind-fell), where Brynhild sleeps, where he will learn great wisdom; he
would be wise if he took your advice, and thought of what he ought to do
(namely, to slay Regin); where I see the ears I expect the wolf.’ The
fifth said: ‘He (Sigurd) is not so wise as I think if he spares him
(Regin), having slain his brother.’ The sixth said: ‘It would be a bold
deed if he slew him, and ruled alone over the gold.’ Then Sigurd said:
‘It is not my fate that Regin is my slayer, but both the brothers ought
rather to go the same way.’ He drew the sword _Gram_ and cut off Regin’s
head. After this he ate part of the serpent’s heart, and kept part of
it. Then he jumped on his horse and rode on Fafnir’s track to his room,
and found it open; all the doors were of iron, and also the
door-fittings, and all the beams, and it was dug into the ground. Sigurd
found there very much gold, and the sword _Hrotti_, and there he took
the helmet of terror, and the golden coat-of-mail, and many costly
things. He found there so much gold that he thought likely that two or
three horses would not carry more. He put it all in two chests, and took
the bridle of the horse Grani, which would not walk, and it was no use
to whip it. He found what the horse wished, jumped on its back and
spurred it, and it ran as if it had no burden on its back” (Volsunga
Saga, c. 19).
“When it drew near to Yule, people became uncheerful, Bödvar asked Hött
why this was. He told him a large and terrible animal had come there for
two winters; it had wings on its back, and always flew: for two autumns
it had come, and done much damage; weapons did not wound it, and the
best champions of the King did not come home. Bödvar said: ‘The hall is
not so well manned[392] as I thought, if one creature is to lay waste
the realm and property of the king.’ Hött replied that it was not an
animal, but the worst fiend. On Yule-eve the King said: ‘I want people
to be quiet and silent this night, and I forbid all my men to endanger
themselves against the animal; with the property let it happen as it
may, but I do not want to lose my men.’ Every man promised to do as he
ordered. Bödvar stole away in the night with Hött, who went unwillingly,
saying that he was taken to death, while Bödvar said it would not be so.
As they left the hall, Bödvar was obliged to carry him, he was so
frightened. When they saw the beast, Hött shouted as loud as he could,
and cried that it was going to swallow him. Bödvar told the animal to be
silent, and flung him down in the moss; there he lay, not without fear,
nor dared he go home. Bödvar now went against the beast; it happened
that his sword was fast in the scabbard; at last he got the scabbard
turned, so that the sword came out; he thrust at once under its shoulder
so strongly that he pierced the heart, and it fell dead. Then he went to
where Hött lay; he took him, and carried him to the place where the
beast lay dead. Hött trembled violently. Bödvar said: ‘Now thou shalt
drink its blood.’ He was long unwilling, but dared not, however,
disobey. Bödvar made him swallow two large mouthfuls, and eat some of
the beast’s heart; then took hold of him, and they wrestled a long
while. Bödvar said: ‘Thou hast become rather strong, and I do not think
thou art now afraid of the hirdmen of King Hrolf.’ Hött replied: ‘I will
not be afraid of them nor of thee hereafter.’ Bödvar answered: ‘That is
good, my companion Hött; let us go and lift up the beast, and arrange it
so that others will think it alive.’ This they did. After this they went
home quietly, and no one knew what they had done” (Hrolf Kraki’s Saga,
c. 35).[393]
There were several different drinks, known under different names,
prepared in a special manner and with incantations, which were supposed
to possess special properties. For these magical drinks, which were
believed to have great power, many things were mixed, and runes were
used, partly as formularies over the drink, or carved on trees or bones
which were thrown into it[394]; in the latter case this was done to
excite love for the one in whose behalf the potion was given. Chief
among these drinks was the drink of oblivion (_Uminnisveig_), a drink
prepared to remove sorrow from the mind.
Gudrun went from Denmark home to her mother Grimhild who gave her the
drink of oblivion.
Grimhild brought to me
A cup to drink,
A cold and bitter one;
I forgot my sorrows;
It was mixed
With the might of the earth,
With ice-cold sea-water,
With sacrificed blood.
In the horn were
All kinds of letters
Carved and painted in red;
I could not read them;
A long ling-fish,
The unreaped corn-ear,
The bowels of beasts.
Many evils
Were mixed in that beer;
The herbs of every forest,
Burnt acorns,
The soot of the hearth,
Sacrificed bowels,
A boiled swine-liver,
For it soothes the sorrows.
(Volsunga, c. 32.)
After taking this drink of oblivion she forgot all her sorrows, and
married King Atli, who afterwards murdered her brother at a feast where
they were invited by him. Gudrun revenged herself by killing the
children she had by Atli, and then had him murdered.