swá he hyra má wóldenefne him witig God,Wyrd forstóde,⁊ ðæs mannes mód[737].
swá he hyra má wóldenefne him witig God,Wyrd forstóde,⁊ ðæs mannes mód[737].
swá he hyra má wóldenefne him witig God,Wyrd forstóde,⁊ ðæs mannes mód[737].
swá he hyra má wólde
nefne him witig God,
Wyrd forstóde,
⁊ ðæs mannes mód[737].
“As he would more of them had not wise God, Wierd forstood him, and the man’s courage.” How very heathen the whole would be, were we only to conceive the wordGodan interpolation, which is highly probable;nefne him witig—Wyrd forstóde[738]! The following examples will show the use of Wyrd:—“hine Wyrd fornam,”—himWierdravished away[739]: just as in other passages we haveguð fornam[740],Wíg ealle fornam[741],swylt fornam[742],deað fornam[743]. “Wyrd ungemete neáh[744],”—Wierdwas immeasurably near him; as in the Oldsaxon passages above cited, and asDeað ungemete neáh[745]. “Ac unc sceal weorðan æt wealle, swá unc Wyrd geteóð, métod manna gehwǽs[746],”—it shall befal us asWierddecideth, the lord of every man. “Swá him Wyrd ne gescráf[747],”—Wierddid not appoint. “Ealle Wyrdforsweóp[748],”—Wierdhas swept away. “Ús seó wyrd scýðeð, heard and hetegrim[749],”—us dothWierdpursue, hard and grim in hate.
These examples will suffice to show how thoroughly personal the conception ofWierdremained; and in this respect there is no difference whatever between the practice in Beówulf and in the more professedly Christian poems of the Exeter and Vercelli codices, or Cædmon. But one peculiarity remains to be noticed, which connects ourWierdin the most striking manner with the heathen goddesses generally, and the Scandinavian Nornir particularly. We have seen thatWierdopposes, that she stands close to the doomed warrior, that she ravishes him away, that she sweeps away the power of men, that she decides or appoints the event, that she is hard and cruel and pursues her victims. But she alsoweaves, weaves the web of destiny, as we can say even to this day without violence. It is necessary to give examples of this expression: “Me ðæt wyrd gewæf[750],”—Wierdwove that for me; similar to which is, “Ac him dryhten forgeaf wígspéda gewiofu[751],”—but the Lord gave him the weft of victory; where undoubtedly an earlier weaving Wyrd was thought of. “Ðonne seó þrag cymeð, wefen wyrd-stafum[752],”—when the time cometh, woven withwierd-staves, or letters, probablyrunes. There is a remarkable passage in the same collection[753], “Wyrmas mec ne áwǽfon, Wyrdacræftum, ða ðe geolo godwebb geatwum frætwað,”—Worms wove me not, with the skill ofWierds, those namely which the yellow silk for garments beautifully form. Here weaving is especially put forward as that in whichWierdexcels, her own peculiar craft and business[754].
Spinning and weaving are the constant occupation of Teutonic goddesses and heroines: Holda and Bertha spin[755], and so do all the representatives of these goddesses in popular tradition even down to the fairies. But the Valkyriur or Shieldmays also weave, and in this function, as well as their immediate action in the battle-field, as choosers of the slain[756], they have some points of contact with the Norns and Wyrd[757]. Gray has transferred to our language from the Nials Saga a fine poem[758]which throws some light upon the weaving of the Valkyriur, the wígspéda gewiofu. The Anglosaxon belief in the Shieldmaidens comes to us indeed in a darkened form, yet we can hardly doubt that it survived. The word Wælcyrge occurs in glossaries to explainBellona, the goddess of war, and one gloss calls eyesWælcyrigean,gorgonei, terrible as those of Gorgo; the flashing of the eyes was very probably one mark of aWælcyrgein the old belief[759], as she floated or rode above the closing ranks of battle. In the superstitions of a later period however we find a clear allusion to these supernatural maidens. A spell preserved in a Harleian manuscript[760]contains the following passages:
Hlúde wǽon hí lá hlúde, ðá hýofer ðone hlǽw ridon;wǽron anmóde, ðá hýofer land ridon.
Hlúde wǽon hí lá hlúde, ðá hýofer ðone hlǽw ridon;wǽron anmóde, ðá hýofer land ridon.
Hlúde wǽon hí lá hlúde, ðá hýofer ðone hlǽw ridon;wǽron anmóde, ðá hýofer land ridon.
Hlúde wǽon hí lá hlúde, ðá hý
ofer ðone hlǽw ridon;
wǽron anmóde, ðá hý
ofer land ridon.
“Loud, lo! loud were they, as they rode overthe hill: bold were they, as they rode over the land.”
Stód under lindeunder leóhtum scyldeðǽr ða mihtigan wífhyra mægen berǽddon,and hý gyllendegáras sendon.
Stód under lindeunder leóhtum scyldeðǽr ða mihtigan wífhyra mægen berǽddon,and hý gyllendegáras sendon.
Stód under lindeunder leóhtum scyldeðǽr ða mihtigan wífhyra mægen berǽddon,and hý gyllendegáras sendon.
Stód under linde
under leóhtum scylde
ðǽr ða mihtigan wíf
hyra mægen berǽddon,
and hý gyllende
gáras sendon.
“I stood beneath my linden shield, beneath my light shield, where the mighty women exercised their power, and sent the yelling javelins!” Another spell from a MS. in Corpus Christi College, Cambridge, appears to name them more distinctly:
Sitte ge, sígewíf,sígað tó eorðan,næfre ge wildetó wuda fleógan;beó ge swá gemindigemínes gódes,swá bið manna gehwilcmetes and éðeles.
Sitte ge, sígewíf,sígað tó eorðan,næfre ge wildetó wuda fleógan;beó ge swá gemindigemínes gódes,swá bið manna gehwilcmetes and éðeles.
Sitte ge, sígewíf,sígað tó eorðan,næfre ge wildetó wuda fleógan;beó ge swá gemindigemínes gódes,swá bið manna gehwilcmetes and éðeles.
Sitte ge, sígewíf,
sígað tó eorðan,
næfre ge wilde
tó wuda fleógan;
beó ge swá gemindige
mínes gódes,
swá bið manna gehwilc
metes and éðeles.
“Sit, ye victorious women (or women of victory) descend to earth, never fly ye wildly to the wood: be ye as mindful of good to me, as every man is of food and landed possession.” Grimm has remarked with great justice[761]that thesígewífhere recalls the names of Wælcyrian, Sigrdrífa, Sigrún and Sigrlinn. I certainly see in Sigewíf,women who give victory; and the allusion to thewildflight and thewoodare both essentially characteristic of the Wælcyrian,whom Saxo Grammaticus callsfeminaeandnymphae sylvestres. For many examples of this peculiar character, it is sufficient to refer to theDeutsche Mythologie[762].
CREATION AND DESTRUCTION.—The cosmogony of the Pentateuch was necessarily adopted by the Saxon converts; yet not so entirely as to exclude all the traditions of heathendom. In the mythology of the Northern nations, the creation of the world occupied an important place: its details are recorded in some of the most striking lays of the earlier Edda; and several of them appear unconsciously to have acted upon the minds of our Christian poets. The genius of the Anglosaxons does not indeed seem to have led them to the adoption of those energetic and truly imaginative forms of thought which the Scandinavians probably derived from the sterner natural features that surrounded them: the rude rocks and lakes of Norway and Sweden, the volcanoes, hot springs, ice plains and snow-covered mountains of Iceland, readily moulded the Northmen to a different train of thought from that which satisfied the dwellers in the marshlands of the Elbe and the fat plains of Britain. But as in the main it cannot be doubted that the heathendom of both races was the same, so even in many modes of expression we meet with a resemblance which can hardly be accidental. Like almost every other people, the Northmen considereda gigantic chaos to have preceded the world of order. While the giant Ymer lived, the earth was “without form and void.” Listen to the words of the Vaulu Spá, or Prophetess’s Song:
Ár var aldaþar er Ýmir bygði:vara sandr né særné svalar unnir:jörð fannsk ævané uppkiminn,gap var ginnunga,en gras hvergi[763].When Ymer dwelt here,'twas the dawn of time:cool streams were not,neither sands, nor seas:earth was notnor o’er it heaven,yawned the gap,and grass was nowhere.
The sons of Bur however, Oþinn, Vile and Ve, created the vast Midgard, or realm of earth:
Sól skein sunnaná salar steinaþá var grand gróingrœnum lauki[764].The sun shone southwardon the stone halls,then was earth grownwith green produce.
The constellations however as yet had no appointed course:
Sól þat ne vissihvar hon sali átti,máni þat ne vissihvat hann megins átti,stjörnur þat ne vissuhvar þær staði áttu[765].But the sun knew notwhere her seat should be,and the moon knew notwhat his might should be,planets knew notwhere their place should be.
So the holy Gods went to council, and divided the seasons, giving names to night and noon and morning, toundernand evening, that the years might be reckoned[766].
The construction of the world out of the fragments of Ymer’s body, the doctrine of the ash Yggdrasil, and of wondrous wells beneath its roots, could of course find no echo here, after the conversion. But it is very remarkable how nearly the description of creation given in Cædmon sometimes coincides with the old remains of heathendom:
Ne wæs hér ðágietnymðe heólstersceadowiht geworden,ac ðes wída grundstód deóp and dim,drihtne fremde,ídel and unnyt;on ðone eágnm wlátstíðfrihð cining,and ða stowe beheólddreáma leáse.Geseah deorc gesweorcsémian sinnihte,sweart under roderum,wonn and wéste ...folde wæs ðágytgræs ungréne;gársecg þeahtesweart synnihtewíde and sídewonne wægas[767].There had not here as yetsave cavern shadeaught existed,but this wide abyssstood deep and dim,strange to its lord,idle and useless;on which looked with his eyesthe king firm of moodand beheld the placedevoid of joys.He saw the dark cloudlour in endless night,swart under heaven,dusky and desert ...the earth was yetnot green with grass;but ocean covereddark in endless nightfar and widethe dusky ways.
Then follows the creation of light, the separation of evening and morning, and the production of organic life, as in the first chapter of Genesis. The Wída grund, orvast abyss, is the Ginnunga gap,yawning gulf, of the Edda, and a very remarkableparallel lies in the assertion that there was nograssanywhere to make green the earth.
The world was created out of the portions of Ymer’s body; but it seems to be a remnant of ancient heathendom when we find in later times a tradition that Man was created out of the great natural portions of the world itself. An ancient Frisic manuscript quoted by Grimm in Haupt’s Altdeutsche Blätter[768]says, “God scóp thene éresta meneska, thet was Adam, fon achta wendem; thet bénete fon tha sténe, thet flásk fon there erthe, thet blód fon tha wetere, tha herta fon tha winde, thene thochta fon tha wolken, thene suét fon tha dáwe, tha lokkar fon tha gerse, tha ágene fon there sunna, and tha blérem on thene helga óm.” That is,—God created him of eight things: his bones from stone, his flesh from earth, his blood from water, his heart from wind, his thought from cloud, his sweat from dew, his hair from the grass, his eyes from the sun, and then breathed into him the breath of life. In the prose Salomon and Saturn we are also told that Adam was created of eight pounds by weight: a pound of earth from whence his flesh; a pound of fire, whence his red and hot blood; a pound of wind, whence his breathing; a pound of cloud, whence his unsteadiness of mood; a pound of grace, whence his stature and growth; a pound of blossoms, whence the variety of his eyes; a pound of dew, whence his sweat; and a pound of salt, whence his salt tears[769].
But a much more striking proof of heathendom lies in the Anglosaxon belief that after the destruction of this creation a more beautiful one would arise; not only a metaphysical kingdom of heaven, but a concrete world like our own, on a more imposing and glorious scale. It was the belief of the Northmen that in the closing evening of the ages, the Ragna-rauk, or twilight of the Gods, the old Titanic powers would burst their fetters; Loki, the Northern Satan, would be released from his bondage; Midgard’s orm, the serpent that surrounds the world, would rise in his giant fury; the wolf Fenrir would snap his chain and move against the gods; the ship Naglfar, made of the nails of the dead, and steered by Loki, would convey the sons of Muspelheim to Vigrid, the plain on which this heathen Armageddon was to be fought: at their head the terrible Surtr, the black, the destroyer of the gods, beneath whose sword of fire the whole world should perish.
Kjóll ferr austan,koma munu Muspellsum laug lýðir,en Loki stýrir[770].Eastward the shipshall shape its journey,Muspell’s sonsthe sea shall travel,o’er the lakes shallLoki steer her.
Oþinn, Thórr, and the other gods shall perish, but not unrevenged: the wolf and the serpent will fall, one by the hands of Viðarr, Oþinn’s son, the other under the terrible battle-maul of Thórr. Thesun and moon and earth will be destroyed, and the ash Yggrdasil wither under the flames of Surtr.
Sól tekr sortna,sígr fold í mar,hverfa af himniheiðar stjörnur;geisar eimrvið aldrnára,leikr hár hitivið himin sjálfan[771]Black wanes the sun,in waves the earth shall sink,from heaven shall fallthe friendly stars;round the treered fire shall rustle,high heat playagainst the heaven.
But the Gods will be found again in Iðavelli; the earth will arise again from the ocean; the sun that perished will have left a yet more beauteous daughter to perform her task; the deities will remember their ancient power, and the secrets of the great god; the golden tablets will be found in the grass; Baldr, the slain god, will arise from the tomb; Havdr, that unconsciously slew him, will return with him from the realms of Hel, the goddess of the dead. Viðarr and Vale, sons, or rather new births of Oþinn; Mode and Magne, sons of Thórr, will survive the universal destruction; Allfather’s glorious kingdom will be renewed, and the power of death and evil vanish for ever.
Sér hon uppkomaöðru sinni,jörð or œgiiðjagrœna[772].Then sees she risea second timethe world from oceanwondrous green.Eína dótturberr Álfröðulláðr hana Fenrir fari;sú skal ríða,þá er regin deyja,móður brautir mær[773].One bright child shallbear Álfröðull,ere her form dothFenrir ruin;thus shall go,when gods have perished,the maiden onher mother’s journey.Finnask Æsirá Iðavelli,ok um moldþinurmátkan dœma,ok minnask þará megindóma,ok á fimbultýsfornar rúnar.Æsir meetin Iðavelli,doom with powerthe great disasters,there remembermighty judgements,and Fimbultýrsformer secrets.Þar munu eptirundrsamligargullnar töflurí grasi finnask,þærs í árdagaáttar höfðufólkvaldr goðaok Fjölnis kind.After, shall beall togetherfound in the grassthe golden tablets,which in time pastpossessed among themgods that ruledthe race of Odin.Munu ósánírakrar vaxa,böls mun alls batna,Baldr mun koma;búa þeir Höðr ok BaldrHropts sigtóptirvel valtivar[774].Then unsownthe swath shall flourishall bale mend, andback come Baldr:with him Höðr dwellin Hropter’s palace,shrines of godsthe great and holy.Sal sér hon standasólu fegra,gulli þakðaná Gimli:þar skolu dyggvardróttir byggja,ok um aldrdagaynðis njóta[775].There sees she standthan sunlight fairer,Gimli’s hallwith gold all covered:there the just shalljoy for ever,and in pleasurepass the ages.
The conviction that the virtuous would rejoice with God in a world of happiness was of course not derived by our forefathers merely from their heathendom; but to this we may unhesitatingly refer their belief, that after doomsday the sun and moon would be restored with greater splendour. The Saxon Menology[776]says very distinctly:
“At doomsday, when our Lord shall renew all creatures, and all the race of men shall rise again, and never more commit sin, then will the sun shine seven times brighter than she now doth, and she will never set; and the moon will shine as the sun now doth, and never will wane or wax, but stand for ever on his course[777].” That this belief was not unknown in Germany may be argued from an expression of Freidank,
Got himel und erde lát zergán,unt wil dernách ein schoenerz hán[778].
Got himel und erde lát zergán,unt wil dernách ein schoenerz hán[778].
Got himel und erde lát zergán,unt wil dernách ein schoenerz hán[778].
Got himel und erde lát zergán,
unt wil dernách ein schoenerz hán[778].
Dim and fragmentary as these rays of light may be which straggle to us through the veils of bygone ages, it is impossible not to recognize in them traces of that primæval faith which teaches the responsibility of man, the rule of just and holy beingssuperior to himself, and a future existence of joy and sorrow, the ultimate consequence of human actions. With what amount of distinctness this great truth may have been placed before their eyes, we cannot tell, but it is enough that we see it admitted in one of the most thoroughly heathen poems of the Edda, and confirmed by an Anglosaxon tradition totally independent of Christianity. Weak as it is while unsupported by the doctrine of a gracious Redeemer, it is not wholly inoperative upon the moral being of men; and its reception among the nations of the North must have tended to prepare them for the doctrine which in the fulness of time was to supersede their vague and powerless desires by the revelation of the crucified Saviour.
HEROES.—It now remains that we should bestow a few words upon the heroic names which figure in the Epopœa of the North, and which probably in many cases belong to the legends and the worship of gods now forgotten, or which at least represent those gods in their heroic form and character; even as the Iliad in Achilles may celebrate only one form of the Dorian Apollo, and the legends of Cadmus and Theseus may be echoes from an earlier cult of Jupiter and Neptune.
The hero Scyld or Sceldwa[779]has been mentioned as the godlike progenitor of the Scyldingas, the royal race of Denmark; but he also appears among the mythical ancestors of Wóden, in the genealogyof Wessex. It is a singular fact that the Anglosaxons alone possess the fine mythus of this hero; the opening division or canto of Beówulf relates of him that he was exposed as a child in a ship upon the ocean; a costly treasure accompanied the sleeping infant as he floated to the shores of the Gardanes, whose king he became; after reigning gloriously and founding a race of kings, he died, and was again sent forth in his ship, surrounded with treasures, to go into the unknown world, from which he came; he came to found a royal race[780], and having done so, he departs and nothing more is known of him. That this mythus was deeply felt in England appears from its being referred to even by the later chroniclers: Æðelweard[781]and William of Malmesbury[782]mention it at length, and adesire to engraft a national upon a biblical tradition not only causes Sceaf to be called by some authors the son of Shem, but leads to the assertion of the Saxon chronicle that Sceaf was the son of Noah, born in the ark[783], in obvious allusion to the miraculous exposure on the waters. The mention of Scani by Æðelweard may be taken in connection with a Norse tradition that Skjold was Skanunga goþ, a god of the Scanings. An Anglosaxon riddle in the Codex Exoniensis[784], and of which the answer seems to me to be onlya shield, concludes with the very remarkable words,
The second line seems to exclude the supposition of there being any reference to Almighty God, though Scyld, like Helm, is one of his names, examples of which are numerous in all Anglosaxon poetry. There are one or two places in England which bear the name of this god or hero: these areScyldes treów[785],Scyldmere[786], andScyldes heáfda[787]; but except in the genealogy of Wessex and the tradition recorded by Æðelweard and William of Malmesbury, there is no record of Sceaf.
As in the poem of Beówulf, Scyld is said to havea son called Beówulf from whom the kings of Sleswig are descended, so in the genealogy of Wessex, Scyld is followed by Beaw: there is some uncertainty in the form of the name, but upon comparison of all the different versions given by various chroniclers, we may conclude that it was Beówa or Beów, a word equivalent to Beówulf. The original divinity of this person is admitted by Grimm, but he suffers himself to be misled by some over-skilful German lexicographer who has addedBeewolfto the list of English names for the woodpecker, and would render Beówulf as a sort of Latin Picus. I am not aware that any bird in England was ever called thebeewolf, or that there are any superstitions connected with the woodpecker in England, as there are in Germany; the cuckoo and the magpie are our birds of augury. When Grimm then declares himself disposed not to give up the termination -wulfin the name, he has only the authority of the poem on his side, in defence of his theory: against which must be placed every other list or genealogy; and it seems to me that these are strongly confirmed by the occurrence of a place called, not Beówulfes hám, but Beówan hám[788], in immediate connection with another named Grendles mere[789]: Whatever the name, this hero was looked upon as the eponymus of various royal races, and this, though the names which have survived are obviously erroneous[790], is distinctive of his real character.
There are various other heroes mentioned in the poem of Beówulf and in the Traveller’s Song, some remembrance of which is still preserved in local names in various parts of England. A few words may not be misplaced respecting them. In the first-named poem, the hero’s lord and suzerain is invariably named Hygelác; after whose death Beówulf himself becomes king of the Geátas. As Hygelác is said to have perished in fight against the Franks, and as history records the fall of a Danish king Chochilachus in a predatory excursion into the Frankish territory about the beginning of the seventh century[791], Outzen, Leo and others have identified the two in fact as well as name, and drawn conclusions as to the mythical hero, from the historical prince. The coincidence is not conclusive: if Hygelác’s name were already mythical in the seventh century, it may easily have been given to any leader who ventured a plundering expedition into the Frankish territory, especially as the warlike records of an earlier Hygelác would be certain to contain some account of Frankish forays: nor was Hygelác, in Danish Hugleikr[792], by any means an uncommon name. On the other hand, if we admit the historical allusion, we must assign a date to, at any rate, that episode of the poem which is hardly consistent with its general character. I amtherefore inclined to think that in this instance, as in so many others, an accidental resemblance has been too much relied upon: it is in fact quite as likely (or even more likely) that the historian should have been indebted to the legend, than that the poet should have derived his matter from history. It does seem probable that Hygelác enjoyed a mythical character among the Germans: in the “Altdeutsche Blätter” of Moriz Haupt[793], we find the following statement, taken from a MS. of the tenth century. “De Getarum rege Huiglauco mirae magnitudinis.—Et sunt mirae magnitudinis, ut rex Huiglaucus, qui imperavit Getis et a Francis occisus est, quem equus a duodecimo anno portare non potuit, cuius ossa in Rheni fluminis insula, ubi in oceanum prorumpit, reservata sunt et de longinquo venientibus pro miraculo ostenduntur.”
But Hygelác is not known in Germany only: even in England we have traces of him in local names: thus Hygeláces geát[794], which, as the name was never borne by an Anglosaxon,—so far at least as we know,—speaks strongly for his mythical character. That the fortunes, under similar circumstances, of a historical prince, of the same name or not of the same name, should have become mixed up with an earlier legend, is by no means unusual or surprising.
Another hero of the Beówulf cycle is Hnæf the Hócing, whose fate is described in a fine episode[795], and is connected with the poem called “The battleof Finnesburh[796].” Of him too England has something to tell: I find a place was calledHnæfes scylf[797], and further that there was aHóces byrgels[798], obviously not a Christian burial-place, aHóces ham[799], and aHócing mǽd[800]. But unless resemblances greatly deceive us, we must admit that this hero was not entirely unknown to the Franks also; Charlemagne’s wife Hiltikart, a lady of most noble blood among the Swæfas or Sueves (“nobilissimi generis Suavorum puella”) was a near relation of Kotofrit, duke of the Alamanni[801]: in her genealogy occur the names Huocingus and Nebi in immediate succession, and it seems difficult not to see in these Hócing and Hnæf. If, as has been suggested, the Hócings were Chauci or Frisians, their connexion with the Sueves must be of an antiquity almost transcending the limits of history, and date from those periods when the Frisians were neighbours of the Swæfas upon the Elbe, and long before these occupied the highlands of Germany, long in fact before the appearance of the Franks in Gaul, under Chlodio.
Among the heroes of heathen tradition are Wada, Weland and Eigil. All three, so celebrated in the mythus and epos of Scandinavia and Germany, have left traces in England. Of Wada the Traveller’sSong declares that he ruled the Helsings[802]; and even later times had to tell of Wade’sboat[803], in which the exact allusion is unknown to us: the Scandinavian story makes him wade across the Groenasund, carrying his son upon his shoulder; perhaps our tradition gave a different version of this perilous journey. The names of places which record his name are not numerous, but still such are found, thusWadanbeorgas[804],Wadanhlǽw[805]. It is otherwise, however, with his still more celebrated son, Weland, the Wieland of German, Völundr of Norse and Galand of French tradition. Weland is the most famous of smiths, and all good swords are his work. In Beówulf, the hero when about to engage in a perilous adventure, requests that if he falls his coat-of-mail may be sent home,Welandes geweorc, either literally the work of Weland, or a work so admirable that Weland might have made it.[806]Ælfred in his Boetius[807]translatesfidelis ossa Fabriciiby“ðæs wísan goldsmiðes bán Welondes,” where, as Grimm[808]observes, the word Fabricius (faber) may have led him to think of the most celebrated of smiths, Weland. The use made by Sir W. Scott of Weland’s name must be familiar to all readers of Kenilworth: from what has been said it will appear how mistaken in many respects his view was. The place in Berkshire which even yet in popular tradition preserves the name ofWayland smith, is nevertheless erroneously called; the boundary of a Saxon charter names it much more accuratelyWelandes smiððe, i. e.Weland’s smithy, his workshop[809]. The legend of Weland, identical in many respects with that of the Wilkina Saga and other Northern versions, is mentioned in the Cod. Exon. p. 377. Here we find notice taken of his mutilation by Niðaudr, the violence done by him to Bödhildr, and other acts of his revenge[810], all in fact that is most important in this part of his history. Grimm reminds me[811]that the Wilkina Saga makes Welandthe constructor of a wondrous boat, and that the act of the son may thus have been transferred to the father, Weland’s boat to Wade.
In the Northern tradition appears a brother of Weland, named Eigil or Egil, who is celebrated as an archer, and to whom belongs the wide-spread tale which has almost past into accredited history in the case of William Tell; this tale given by Saxo Grammaticus to Toko, by the Jomsvíkínga Saga to Palnatoki, and by other authorities to other heroes from the twelfth till the very end of the fifteenth century, but most likely of the very highest antiquity in every part of Europe, was beyond doubt an English one also, and is repeated in the ballad of William of Cloudesley: it is therefore probable that it belongs to a much older cycle, and was as well known as the legends of Wada and Weland, with which it is so nearly connected. Eigil would among the Anglosaxons have borne the form of Ægel, and accordingly we find places compounded with this name,—thus Æglesbyrig, now Aylesbury in Buckinghamshire; Æglesford, now Aylsford in Kent; Ægleslona, in Worcester[812]; Ægleswurð, now Aylsworth in Northamptonshire[813]; also Ægleswyl; and lastly Aylestone in Leicestershire.
The Wilkina Saga and the Scald’s Complaint already cited from the Codex Exoniensis, lead us next to the legends of Ðeódríc (Dietrich von Bern) and Eormenríc, (Hermanaríc), and through the latter to Sigfried and the other heroes of the Nibelungencycle. The heroic or even godlike character of Dietrich has been well made out by Grimm[814], and the historical Theodoric the Ostrogoth vanishes in his traditional representative. The Anglosaxon poet evidently refers to the latter, not indeed from the story he tells, but from the collocation of Ðeódríc among merely mythical personages. Perhaps, as the whole scope of his poem is to relate the misfortunes of the great and thus draw consolation for his own, the thirty years’ residence in Mæringaburg may be considered as a reference to Ðeódríc’s flight from before Otachar[815]and long-continued exile. In a Saxon menology[816]of great antiquity,the author, after stating the eighteenth of May to be the commemoration of St. John, Pope and Martyr, goes on to say, that an anchoret on Lipari told certain sailors how at a particular time he had seen king Theodoric, ungirt, barefoot, and bound, led between St. John and St. Finian, and by them hurled into the boiling crater of the neighbouring island Vulcano. That on their return to Italy the sailors discovered by comparison of dates that Theodoric died on the day on which the anchoret noticed his punishment by the hands of his victims. The author expressly tells it was Theodoricus, the king of the Goths in Ravenna; and he concludes by saying, “That was Theodoricus the king whom we call Ðeódríc,” which we can only understand by supposing him to allude to the mythical Ðeódríc. Ælfred seems also to have known something of the mythical Ðeódríc when he says, “he wæs Amaling,” a fact historically true of the Ostrogoth Theodoric, but yet unlikely to have been contained in Ælfred’s Latin authorities. The Traveller’s Song says[817], “Ðeódríc weóld Froncum,” Theodoric ruled the Franks, but this I should rather understand of one of the historical Merwingian kings, than of the Ostrogoth.
The legends of Eormanríc were obviously familiar to the Anglosaxons: in the so often quotedpoem of the Traveller’s Song, this celebrated prince is mentioned more than once, as well as in the poem which contains the notices of Weland, Beadohild and Ðeódríc. The character given of him in both these compositions denotes a familiarity with the details of his history, as we find them almost universally in the Northern traditions, and more particularly those of his wealth, his cruelty and his treachery.
In Beówulf we have a somewhat further development of his history. We there learn incidentally that Háma (the Ammius of Saxo Grammaticus) carried off from him the Brósinga-mén or mythical collar of the goddess Freya. There can be no doubt that this necklace, called in the Norse traditions Mén Brísínga, is of a most thoroughly mythologicalcharactercharacter[818], and any reference to it in Saxon poetry is welcome evidence of ancient heathendom: moreoverthe Anglosaxon poet alone mentions it in connection with Eormanríc. This peculiar feature is as little known to the other Germanic nations as the beautiful legend of Scyld Scéfing, the loves of Geát and Mǽðhild, the dragon-slaughter of Sigmund, the wars of Hengest and Finn Folcwalding, or the noble epos of Beówulf itself: unfortunately we have no detail as to the circumstances under which the necklace of the goddess came into the possession of Eormanríc.
The Traveller’s Song however has traces of many heroes who are closely connected with the traditional cyclus of Eormanríc: among these are Sifeca (the false Sibich of Germany) and Becca, the Bikki of the corresponding Norse versions, whom it makes chieftain of the Baningas, perhaps the “sons of mischief” fromBana. Háma, already named, and Wudga, the Wittich and Heime of Germany, occur in the same poem: so also the terrible Ætla, Attila the Hun, the Ætli of Scandinavia, the Etzel of the Nibelungen cycle. In the same composition we find Gúðhere, king of the Burgundians, the Norse Gunnar, and German Gunther; and Hagena, probably the Norse Högni, and Hagen the murderer of Sigfried. The Traveller’s Song, and the Scóp’s Complaint contain no mention of the great hero of the Norse and German epos, Sigurdr Fafnisbani, Sigfried, the betrothed of the Shieldmay Bryhyldur, the husband of the fairhaired Chriemhilt.
All the more welcome to us is the episode in Beówulf, which not only records the tale of Sigurdr, though under the name of his father Sigmund, andmakes particular mention of the dragon-slaughter (Fafnis-bani)—which is a central point in the Norse tradition, although hardly noticed at all in the Nibelungen Lied,—but also refers to the fearful adventures which the Edda relates of the hero and his kinsman Sinfiötli (Fitela) which appear totally unknown in Germany.
Having said thus much of the heroic personages to whom so large a portion of Northern and Germanic tradition is devoted, it becomes possible for me to refer to the great work of James Grimm on German mythology for a demonstration of the connection between these heroes and the gods of our forefathers. I regret that my own limits render it impossible for me to enter at greater length upon this part of the subject; but it requires a work of no small dimensions, and devoted to it exclusively: and it is therefore sufficient to show the identity of our own heroic story and that of Scandinavia and the continent, and thus enable the English reader to adapt to his own national traditions the conclusions of learned enquirers abroad, with respect to their own[819].
DIVINATION AND WITCHCRAFT.—The attachment of the Germanic races to divination attracted the notice of Tacitus[820]: he says: “They are as great observers of auspices and lots as any. The way they use their lots is simple; they cut into slips a branch taken from an oak or beech, and having distinguished them by certain marks, scatter them at random and as chance wills over a white cloth. Then if the enquiry is a public one, the state-priest,—if a private one, the father of the house himself,—having prayed to the gods, and looking up to heaven, thrice raises each piece, and interprets them when raised according to the marks before inscribed upon them. If they turn out unfavourable, there is no further consultation that day about the same matter: if they are favourable, the authority of omens is still required. Even here they are acquainted with a mode of interrogating the voices and flight of birds; but it is peculiar to this race to try the presages and admonitions of horses. These, white in colour and subject to no mortal work, are fed at the public cost in the sacred groves and woods: then being harnessed to the sacred chariot, they are accompanied by the priest, the king or the prince of the state, who observe their neighings and snortings. Nor has any augury more authority than this, not only among the common people, but even the nobles and priests: for they think themselves the ministers, but the horses the confidants, of the gods. There is another customary form of auspices, by which theyinquire concerning the event of serious wars. They match a captive of the nation with which they are at war, however they can come by him, with a select champion of their own, each armed with his native weapons. The victory of this one or that is taken as a presage.”
The use of lots as connected with heathendom, that is, as a means of looking into futurity, continued in vogue among the Saxons till a late period, in spite of the efforts of the clergy: this is evident from the many allusions in the Poenitentials, and the prohibitions of the secular law. The augury by horses does not appear to have been used in England, from any allusion at least which still survives; but it was still current in Germany in the seventh century, and with less change of adjuncts than we usually find in the adoption of heathen forms by Christian saints. It was left to the decision of horses to determine where the mortal remains of St. Gall should rest; the saint would not move, till certain unbroken horses were brought and charged with his coffin: then, after prayers, we are told, “Elevato igitur a pontifice nec non et a sacerdote feretro, et equis superposito, ait episcopus: ‘Tollite frena de capitibus eorum, et pergant, ubi Dominusvoluerit.’voluerit.’Vexillum ergo crucis cum luminaribus adsumebatur, et psallentes, equis praecedentibus, via incipiebatur[821].” It may be imagined that the horses infallibly found the proper place for the saint’s burial-place; but what is of importance to us is the use of horses on the occasion. In this country howeverwe have some record of a divination in which not horses but a bull played a principal part; and as bulls were animals sacred to the great goddess Nerthus, it is not unlikely that this was a remnant of ancient heathendom. St. Benedict on one occasion appeared to a fisherman named Wulfgeat, and desired him to announce to duke Æðelwine[822], his lord, that it was his the saint’s wish to have a monastery erected to himself, to the pious mother of mercy and All virgins. The spot was to be where he should see a bull stamp with his foot. To use the words of the saint to the fisherman, “Ut ei igitur haec omnia per ordinem innotescas exhortor, sermonem addens sermoni, quatenus scrutetur diligentius in loco praedicto quomodo noctu fessa terrae sua incumbant animalia,ac ubi taurum surgentem pede dextro viderit percutere terram, ibidem proculdubio xenodochii sciat se aram erigere debere.” Obedient to the order, duke Æðelwine set out in the morning to find the spot: “Mira res, et miranda, ubi vir praedictus insulam est ingressus, ...animalia sua in modum crucis, taurum vero in medio eorum iacere prospexit. Et sicut quondam sancto Clementi agnus pede dextro locum fontis, sic viro isti taurus terram pede percutiendo locum mensae futuri arcisterii significavit divinitus[823].” St. Clement’s fountain never rolled such floods of gold as found their way to the rich abbey of Ramsey!
Other details of heathendom in the practices ofordinary life must be left to theappendixto this chapter; but a cursory reference may be made to what appears to show a belief in the evil eye, and that practice which in Latin is calledinvultuatio. The former of these is mentioned in the poem of Beówulf[824], where Hróðgár, warning Beówulf of the frail tenure of human life, adds, “eágena bearhtm,”the glance of eyes, to the many dangers the warrior had to fear: