THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES (^S-*^"^^ TALES OF THE TEUTONIC LANDS. LONDON: PRINTED BT SPOTTISWOODK AND CO., NKW-STBEET bQUAUE AND PARLIAMENT STREET TALES THE TEUTONIC LANDS, GEORGE W. COX, M.A. EUSTACE HINTON ^ONES, AUTHORS OP 'POPULAR ROMANCES OF THE MIDULK AGES.' LONDON : LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO. 1872. All rights reserved. F/V PREFACE. The stoeies contained in this volume fall into three classes, the first comprising tales for which, so far as we may see, no historical character whatever can be claimed, while to the second belong the legends in which a certain amount of national or local history has been imbedded amongst masses of mythical detail. The third class comprehends those tales which on a careful analysis are found to lie in great part or wholly beyond the province of the comparative mythologist. Of this last class it seemed necessary to include some specimens, as I felt it to be my duty to leave no room for the misapprehension that the science which professes to explain completely the myths of Psyche and Eros, of Urvasi and Pururavas, seeks to resolve the whole popular literature of the Aryan nations into phrases which have certainly furnished all the materials for the legends of Hermes and Phoibos, of Sigurd, Helgi, and Baldur. The tales given as specimens of this class belong to Scandi- navian rather than to Teutonic folk-lore ; but their general character and their wide popularity may render it unnecessary to apologise for their insertion. No one probably will be disposed to question the importance of determining the degree of credibility to 664414 viii Preface. be attached to the burning of Ilion and the burning oi the house of the Icelandic Njal, if the differences between the two be capable of measurement. This question I have endeavoured to answer in the Introduction, in the hope that the attempt may serve to remove some strange misconceptions of the method which has been applied in the analysis of the popular legends of the Aryan nations. This examination might be extended beyond the tales contained in this or the preceding series ; but however far it might be carried, the results, so far as we may judge, would be substantially the same. The work already done may suffice to show how far the method of the comparative mythologists may be applied, and to determine the point at which it must give place to the researches of the historian. That the general result of this examination is to prove the wholly mythical character of the vast mass of popular tradition, I can have no doubt; and I venture to think that few will be disposed to dispute it. That it throws a fresh light on the history of the human mind, and invests these stories with a deeper, nay with an imperishable interest, seems to be not less certain ; and if comparative mythology, while it explains the growth of popular stories, have shown that their growth was inevitable, and that it implies no corruption of the human intellect and no debasement of human affections, it will have done a work the importance of which can scarcely be exaggerated. It will, in short, have shown that the multiplication of these myths was a necessary phase of the education of the world, and will have imparted to the epic narratives into which these myths have been developed a higher and more abiding charm. Preface. ix I part reluctantly from a subject to which I have devoted the thought and labour of many years ; but as I have worked throughout under the conviction that my sole object was the ascertainment of fact, the conscious- ness that in however small a measure my eflforts may have furthered the interests of historical science will, if the feeling be justified, be my best reward. My contributions to this volume are confined to the Introduction and the stories of Walter of Aquitaine and of Hugdietrieh and Hildeburg. With these exceptions, all the tales have been contributed by Mr. E. H. Jones. G. W. C. MayZ^, 1872. CONTENTS. INTRODUCTION Eecurrence of Myths in Popular Traditions Historical and Mythical Elements in Popular Traditions Limits of Historical Inquiry Coincidence of Names in the Volsung and Nibelung Tales Inferences drawn from this Coincidence The real Point at issue The Helgi Sagas .... The Fatal Children . . . Connexion of the Helgi and Volsung Stories Fafuir and Begin .... The Story of Brynhild and Gudrun The Nibelungenlied .... The Story of Walter of Aquitaine The Story of Hugdietrich and Hildeburg The Lay of Gudrun the Daughter of Hettel The Story of Frithjof and Ingebjorg . The Story of Grettir the Strong . The Sagas of Gunnlaug and Njal Classification of Popular Traditions THE STORIES OF THE VOLSUNGS I. The Story of Sigmund and Signy II. The Story of Helgi Hundingsbane in. The Story of Sigurd and Brynhild IV. The Fall of the Giukings . 1 3 6 7 8 9 12 12 17 19 21 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 29 31 41 44 69 THE NIBELUNG STORY I. The Wedding of the Queens 79 II. The Crosslet on the Vesture 96 III. The Vengeance of Kriemhild Ill xii • Contents. PAGE WALTER OF AQUITAINE I. The Betrothal of Walter and Hildegimd . . . .133 II. The Battle for the Golden Hoard 139 III. The Wedding of Walter and Hildegund in the Basqueland 153 THE STOEY OF HUGDIETRICH AND HILDEBUEG . .156 THE GUDRUN LAY I. Hagen and the Griffins 167 IL Hilda's Wooing 173 III. Gudrun's Lovers . .180 THE STORY OF FRITH JOF AND INGEBJOEG . . .210 GEETTIR THE STRONG I. The Winning of the Short Sword . . . ' . .247 II. The Slaying of Biorn 256 IlL The Curse of Glam 262 IV. Grettir's 111 Luck 269 V. The Hunting of tlie Outlaw 278 VI. The Ladders upon Drangey ...... 300 VIL The Notch in the Short Sword 311 VIIL The Happy Good Luck of Thorstein 317 GUNNLAUG AND THE FAIR HELGA 325 BURNT NJAL I. The Story of Gunnar, Njal's Friend 346 II. The Burning of Njal 362 INDEX 389 Erratum. Page 107, line two from bottom, /or part nor plot read part ncr lot. TALES TEUTONIC LANDS, INTBOBUGTION. The story of Arthur, as it has come down to us iu the pages of mediaeval romance-writers, has by general ad- mission undergone a series of modifications by Recur- which two or more tales originally distinct have mj-ths ia been welded into one. It can scarcely be said traditions, that much care has been taken to disguise the process. The fortunes of Tristram and Isolte are linked with those of Lancelot and Guenevere ; but of the complete independence of the two stories in their earlier form there could have been no doubt, even if the history of Tristram had not been given by itself in the romance which bears the name of Thomas of Ercildoune. With these three distinct cycles of Arthur, Lancelot, and Tristram are interwoven the cycles of Balin and Grareth ; ^ and the ex- amination of these legends has shown that even these cycles are repeated in the subordinate tales which are introduced in the course of the great epic. Thus the myth of Grareth is reproduced in that of the Knight of the Illshapen Coat ; and the story of the Fair JNIaid of ' Popular Romances of the Middle Ages, Introduction, p. 31. B 2 Tales of the Teuioiiic Lands. Astolat is but a reflexion of the story o f Elaine the mother of the good knight Galahad.^ The analysis of these tales has perhaps been extended to every feature of any importance in the whole Arthur romance — the result being, as it would seem, that for not one of these features can any genuine historical character be claimed. There remained, indeed, the possibility, or, as some may prefer to say, the likelihood, that King Arthur was a real pei'son — that is, that a chief named Arthur lived at some time and in some place ; but of his life and acts we have no definite knowledge,'^ and so far as we can be said to know anything about them, the exploits of the real Arthur were not those which popular tradition has deliohted to invest with a mao^ic colourinjy. But the analysis further showed not merely that the stories of Tristram and Lancelot, of Guenevere and Isolte, repeated each other, and were again exhibited in the career of sub- ordinate personages in the drama, but that for the most part the incidents of these legends and the sequence of these incidents form the staple of the myths which have sprung up in every Aryan land with an exuberance of growth which half disguises their substantial identity. These incidents the science of Comparative jNIythology professes to have traced back to their earliest form in phrases which spoke not of men and women, but of the Dawn which drives her white herds to their pastures,^ of the Sun which slays the dew whom he loves, of the fiery dragon which steals the cattle of the lord of light <)r the Moon which wanders with her myriad children through ' Pcqndar Bomanccs of the Middle Ages, Introduction, p. 52. - ' We know neither the period in which he lived, nor the district over which lie reigned.' — Lingard, History of England, i. 72. See further, Popular Romances, p. 5. ^ These guardians of the cattle of the sun, i.e. of the bright clouds, are the Sararaa and Ushas of the Rig Veda, and the Lampetie and Phaethousa of the Odyssey. — Mytlwlogy of the Aryan Nat ions, i. 419-421. Introduction. 3 the heaven.' For a large number of the stories springing from these phrases a strict etymological connexion has been established ; but the link which binds the myth of the Hellenic Hephaistos with that of the Vedic Agni ^ justifies the inference that both these myths reappear in those of Eegin and of Wayland, or in other words, that the story of the Dame of the Fine Green Kirtle ^ is the story of Medeia, and that the tale of Helen is the legend of the loves of Conall Gfulban.'' It follows, therefore, that the whole Arthur story must take its place in that large family of heroic legends which have their origin in mythical phrases describing the phenomena of the out- ward world, and more especially those of the day and of the year. But if these legends cease thus to be for us store- houses of historical facts, it does not follow that the names in any given story are not those of persons Historical who really lived. The childhood of Cyrus is icm uiemeuts made the subject of a story which is historically traditiou. impossible : yet Cyrus was as real a person as the Duke of Wellington. The incidents which belong to the struggle at Ilion as related in the Homeric or other Hellenic poems certainly never occurred on the shores of tlie Hellespontos ; but no attempt has ever been made to show that no conflict ever took place between Achaians and Rians on the banks of Simoeis or Skamandros. All that has been said is that this war, if there was such a war, is not the war of which the epic and lyric poets of Greece have left us a narrative; ^ that, do what we will, we cannot extract the history of the one from the legends ' In the myth of Endymion, the Sun who has sunk to his dreamless sleep, the Moon appears as Asterodia journeying with her fifty daughters through the sky. In the Christian myth she becomes St. Ursula with her 11,000 virgins— this Ursula again appearing in the myth of Tanhaiiser as the occupant of the Horselbcrg, and as the fairy queen in the tale of True Thomas of Ercildoune. — Mythology Ar. Hat. ii. 131-218. lb. ii. 191. 3 /^_ i 291. * lb. ii. 157. ' //'. i. 193, B 2 4 Talcs of the TciUonic Lands. of the otlier, and that if any portion of this history be recovered (and the possibility of such recovery has never been denied), it will be re-gained not from the myths but from evidence quite independent of the myths. In the poems the cities of Tiryns and Mykenai had an im- portance which they had certainly lost long before the dawn of contemporary history ; and the ruins still re- maining of their walls and buildings fully bear out the truth of the description. It is at the least possible that future excavation or research may make us acquainted with the names of some of the chiefs who ruled in these ancient fortresses, and even with their acts ; but until we liave such evidence, we cannot be justified in assuming that kings named Agamemnon and Menelaos ever reigned at Mykenai or Sparta, still less in asserting that tliey led an expedition to Ilion and that this expedition was successful, for it is also possible that popular tradition may, whether purposely or unwittingly, have given a wrong colouring to certain events, and that Agamemnon, victorious elsewhere, may have failed at Ilion. From the legend of Scarborough Castle we should derive a false conclusion about Oliver Cromwell ; ' and it cannot be too strongly or too often repeated that we are unable to test and to correct the statements of Hellenic tradition by contemporary history, as we can test and correct the legend of Scarborough Castle. In short, for our know- ledge of the Trojan war we are in a position which would also be our position with regard to the history of Eng- land, if all our knowledge of it rested on such a tradition as that which brings Cromwell to a place from which he is known to have been absent. The extent of the his- torical element in these traditions is not the question ; tlie point is that the legends furnish no means which can enable us to answer the question satisfactorily — in other words, that we cannot dig out history from quarries in ' Myihulony of Ar. Xat. i. 187. IntrodiLction. 5 which history and myth may be mingled together, and that the attempt to dig it out will be rewarded by the discovery of something which may look like bones but which we cannot even piece into the skeleton that once upheld a living form. The story of the fight at Roncesvalles may bring before us a name which was really borne by a prefect of the Britannic march in tlie days of Karl the Grreat.' But we learn the fact not froni> the legend but from the pages of Eginhard, and if the romances in which Karl is introduced reflect his greatness, they are in their incidents not more trustworthy than the Scarborough tradition. The stories which take Karl the Grreat to Jerusalem may be founded on his historical relations with Haroun-al-Kaschid ; but we certainly do not gain our knowledge of these relations from the stories. How much of light researches into strictly historical monuments may throw on the forms assumed by par- ticular traditions, it is obviously not the task of the comparative mythologist to determine ; but he is fully justified in asserting that the conquest of Lydia furnishes no warrant for assuming that the grandfather of Cyrus was named Astyages or Asdahag, when this name is but another form of Azidahaka or the biting snake, the Zohak, who in later romance feeds with human flesh the snakes which cluster on his shoulders." The point for the historian to prove is that he is in possession of evidence by which he is able to test and coirect the statements of the myths : and if he can show this, he will receive from the comparative mythologist attention not less respectful than that which will be paid to liim by any others. But the former will still be compelled to assert that the new knowledge, if any there be, comes from the historical monuments and not from the legend, ' Mythol. of Ar. Nat. i. 190. Popular Romances. Iiitrod. 66. ' MytJwlogy of Ar. Nat. ii. 358. 6 Talcs of the Ten tome Lauds. the legend being for historical purposes useless in the absence of the means for testing it. This repetition would be superfluous and even imperti- nent, were it not that mythologists are Avith a strange Limits of pertinacity charged with intruding into aprovince inquiry.' which does uot tcl 3ng to them, by attempting to explain away history into fable. No such attempt is made. If on evidence not obtained from the fable itself it can be shown that history is mixed up with it, and if the extent of this historical element be pointed out, the conclusion will be at once accepted ; but in the interests of historical truth itself the mythologist must protest against the method which seeks to discover this element in myths which the historian has not the means of test- ing. This Mr. Grrote felt when he saw that he could neither affirm nor deny the occurrence of a war at Troy, while he insisted in words as plain as any man could use, that a war without Helen and Sarpedon and Memnou and Hektor would not be the war of which we read in Hellenic poetry.^ But it may perhaps further be said with justice, that while mythologists commonly express themselves in language which seems to convey its mean- ing clearly, it is not always easy to understand the mean- ing of some who profess to be their opponents. The former have distinctly asserted that the Volsuuga Saga is mythical, or in other words that its chief, if not indeed all its incidents can be traced to phrases which spoke originally of tlie phenomena of the outward world, and of these only ; that these incidents are found in the myths of all Aryan lands ; and that, in short, the story of Volsung and of Sigurd is only another form of the story of Perseus, Theseus, Herakles, or Phoibos. So far as they can see, there is no reason for supposing that the names of any of the personages in the tale were suggested by those of real ' History of Greece, Part I. ch. xv. (vol. i. p. 435). Introduction. 7 persons. The matter is of the very least importance, as those persons could not have done the deeds attributed to them ; but the possibility that some of the names may have been so suggested has never been denied. Mytho- logists have further asserted that, as the Volsung tale is itself a development of the Helgi Sagas, so the Nibelung tale has grown up in the same way from the story of the Volsungs, the later growth being in its incidents not a whit more historical than the earliest. These inferences or conclusions are, it is now asserted, altogether upset, and the results of comparative mythology generally impugned, by the fact that some half- comcidenco dozen names in the Nibelungenlied sound like thevoisung the names of persons who lived in the fifth or iimg tales. sixth centuries of the Christian era. 'The story of ■Sigurd, the hero of the Edda,' we are told, ' with all the accessory characters and all the adventures — a favoiirite example of the solar myth with the new school — is so closely imitated to all appearance in the Nibelungenlied, the great German epic composed centuries after it, that here, if anywhere, comparative mythology appears to have won a great victory. The names are the same, and the adventures are very like. It would then follow neces- sarily that the later poem at all events (if not both) was mythical and not historical. But strange to say, there is an historical basis for this later poem — an historical basis so certain that not even the mythologers can gainsay it. Closely as the names appear to correspond to those of the Edda, they correspond just as closely to historical personages who lived after the Edda was known and referred to in literature. Sigurd represents Siegbert, king of Austrasia 561-75 a.d. Grunther represents Gundicarius, king of Burgundy, in 435 a.d. So Brynhild, Irenfried, Dietrich, and Atli are the reflections of Brune- hault, Hermannfried (Irminfrid ?), Theodoric, and Attila. Here then, where comparative mythology might possibly 8 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. have explained everything" ; here, where in default of other evidence we should all have been quite content to accept its explanation, it is shown to be a false and delu- sive guide.'' What is the meaning of these propositions? The phrase that the Nibelung song has a sure historical basis Inferences would secm to justify the suppositiou that the thrs^ooiDci™ song contained a certain amount of history — in dence, other words that it recorded a number of facts which were done by the men or women to whom they are attributed, and that these persons are known to be and can be proved to be historical. But these sentences are not intended to convey this meaning. It is admitted that the names of the actors in the Xibelung tale are, speaking generally, the same as those of the men and women who play their part in the Volsung story, and that the adven- tures attributed to the former are very like those of the heroes of the latter. The historical basis (astonishing as it seems) is limited apparently to the names. These cor- respond closely to the names of some persons who lived about the fifth or sixth century, and as this resemblance cannot be denied, therefore the poem is historical. This really comes to nothing more and nothing less than the assertion that the Arthur romance would become an historical poem of the nineteenth century, if a version of it were published which for the name of Arthur the British King should substitute that of Arthur Duke of Welling-ton. It would not be pretended that the actions of the duke were those of the Celtic chief ; but if with his name a few other names should be given of persons now living which correspond to those of the Arthur ro- mance, the story would have an historical basis so certain that not even the mythologers could gainsay it. The question turns less on the names of the actors than ' Mahaffy, Frdegomena to Ancient History, p. 89. Introduction. 9 on their career. If the series of deeds attributed to Sigurd and Etzel, Jormunrek and Gunnar were The i-eai done by Siegbert and Attila, Hermanric and issue.' Gundicar, the tradition would certainly become historical : but it is not pretended that this is the case. The resem- blance of the Nibelung- names Siegbert, Brunhilt, Attila, Gunther, Swanhild, to the Volsung names Sigurd, Brynhild, Atli, Gunnar, Swanhild, cannot be denied : but it has long since been remarked that Jornandes, who wrote long before the murder of the Aiistrasian Siegbert, already knew the daughter of the mythic Sigurd, Swan- hild, who was born according to the Edda after the murder of her father, and who was afterwards killed by Jormunrek, 'whom the poem has again historicised in Hermanicus, a Gothic king of the fourth century.' ^ If we liad no other warrant for the inference, this resemblance of names would justify the surmise that popular tradition is tempted to assimilate the names of ancient heroes to those of persons living at the time when the tradition takes shape. But this temptation is not confined to names. The epic poems of a nation may be regarded as giving a tolerably faithful picture of the society of the age in which they are composed : but the age of the Nibelungenlied was in manners and form of thought separated from the age of the Volsung story by no gulf which would render the task of adapting the poem to a later time a matter of any special difficulty. It so happened that the names of some kings and queens and warriors of the fifth or sixth centuries lent themselves easily to the purpose of the more modern poet ; but this facility was purely accidental, and thus the resemblances of name impart no historical character to the poem, if by this term we mean a claim to credi- ' Max Miillcr, Chips from a German Workslioji, ii. 112. It may bo added that the character of Etzel in the Nibelungenlied is utterly unlike that of the historical Attila. lo Tales of the Te2itonic Lands. bility for the incidents related in the narrative.' That the colouring thrown over the poem should be made, so far as it was possible, to suit the political and social con- ditions of the age of Attila, Theodoric, Siegbert or Brune- hault, is in no way surprising ; it would be strange indeed were it otherwise. But so far as the incidents are con- cerned, it is scarcely more than a colouring, and writers, who would willingly trace the historical elements of the tale, have found themselves compelled to admit that the real events noticed in the poems are very few in number. The historical Attila had a brother whose name is given as Bleda : the Etzel of the Nibelung lay is the son of Bludi or Budli, not his brother ; and Buusen has acknowledged the difficulty of making an expedition of Attila himself to the Rhine fit in with what we know of the history of those years. ^ All that can be said (and this is willingly granted) is that the poet or poets of the Xibelung lay have adapted the names of the older legend to names of living or recently living persons, whenever it was possible to do so ; that they have ' Nothing that I have said, so far as I am aware, would be found incon- sistent with the following words of Professor Max Miiller : — ' There are evidently historical facts round which the myth of Herakles has crystal- lized, only we cannot substantiate them so clearly as in the myths of the Nibelungen, because we have there no contemporaneous historical documents. Yet as the chief Herakles is there represented as belonging to the roj'al family of Argos, there may have been a Herakles, perhaps the son of a king called Amphitryo, whose descendants, after a temporary exile, reconquered that part of Greece which had formerly been under the sway of Herakles. The traditions of his miraculous birth, of many of his heroic adventures, and of his death, were as little based on historical facts as the legends of Sifrit. In Herakles killing the Chimsera and similar monsters we see the reflected image of the Delphian Apollo killing the worm, or of Zeus, the god of the brilliant sky, with whom Herakles shares in common the names of Idseos, Olympics, and Pangenetor. As the myth of Sigurd and Gunnar throws its last broken rays on the kings of Burgundy and on Attila and Theodoric, the myth of the Solar Herakles was realised in some semi-historical prince of Argos and Mykense.' — Chips, ii. 113. - God in History, ii. 478.^ — Mythology of the Aryan Isations, i. 289 note. Introduction. \ I introduced some fresh names which were likewise borne by historical persons, and that they have further imparted to the story some appearance of agreement with great events of their own or of a recent age. Nor can the fidelity of the poet to the manners of his time be ascribed necessarily to the narrative of the acts of the several personages in the drama. The subordinate or unimpor- tant details are probably described with exactness and care. There would be no temptation to dejDart from existing customs with regard to dress, weapons, food, the precedence of ranks in the state, religious worship, or the usages of war. But the care of the poets to represent these things aright imparts no credibility to narratives of events which are in themselves impossible ;^ and when we find that these impossible events form the groundwork of a thousand other stories, whether Greek, or Teutonic, or Scandinavian, we are at once justified in asserting that in the common element thus found we discover the real character of these tales ; that of the Helgi and Volsung stories this common element is, in Bunsen's words, ' purely mythological, namely the combat of the Sun-god who is slain by his brother and avenged by a younger brother,' ^ and that this element must also pervade the Nibelung lay, in which, substantially, neither the names nor the inci- dents are changed. Thus the final conclusion is, that the Nibelung romance has no historical character. A certain amount of historical material may have been introduced into a story with which, until it was so introduced, it had nothing to do.^ ' Mythology of the Aryan Nations, i. 289. * God in History, ii. 474. ^ Thus Sigurd cannot 'represent' the Austrasian king Siegbert, nor Gunther the Burgundian Gundicar, unless the poets who first inti-odueed tliese names into the tradition intended that they should represent those chieftains or kings, — in other words, unless the poets of the Edda knew that centuries after their day these kings would rule over Austrasia or Burgundy, and would do moreover precisely those acts which they described as the deeds of the Sigurds and Gunnars of long past ages. 1 2 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. The temptation tb regard as generally historical a poem or tale which exhibits vivid pictures of social life, TheHeigi ^^ ^ set-off to a narrative of utterly impossible Sagas. incidents, is, it would seem, widely felt ; but when we trace these incidents to a common source, we prove at once that this seemingly historical character, even where it can be shown to exist, is simply a veil thrown by the poet over creations not his own, which he can only venture to some extent to modify. Among these creations the greater number perhaps consist of personages who not merely perform deeds far exceeding all human powers but stand forth as lying under a terrible doom for the commission of enormous and even im- practicable crimes. That the stories of such crimes are the result of deliberate invention, is a supposition which all probably would be glad to avoid if they could : that the mai-riage of Oidipous and lokaste is explained by Vedic phrases which speak of the Sun as the son, the husband, or the brother of the Dawn, is a conclusion which none perhaps would be reluctant to accept, if no overwhelming difficulty lay in the way. That there is much to be urged in favour of this conclusion, and nothing, it would seem, against it, the analysis of that myth has probably proved.* The traditions out of which the Volsung and Nibelung stories have grown exhibit features more terrible and revolting than those of the Theban legends. It is scarcely too much to say that precisely to these features the Helgi Sagas owe their chief value. Like the Arthur romance, these sagas are marked by the constant recurrence of the same incidents with The fatal modifications of local colouring, ascribed to children. persous bearing different names. As it is clear that there must be some foundation for these stories, and as the hypothesis which assigns to them an historical ' Mythology, Ar. Xai. ii. 69, 314. Breal, Le mjthe d'Edipe. Introduction. 1 3 ■character has been found to be untenable, we have nothing to do but to note the points of likeness or repeti- tion and to lU'ge that this fact, like every other fact, calls for explanation. The common element in the stories of Oidipous, Romulus, Perseus, Telephos, Theseus, lason, and other mythical beings, is the destiny wliich makes them, whether wittingly or unwittingly, destroy the beings from whom they have sprung or bring ruin upon their homes and kinsfolk. Some of these become the instruments of a righteous vengeance on those who have sought to deprive them of life ; the birth of others, as of Dionysos or Asklepios, marks the moment of death to their mothers. If it be granted that Greek, Icelandic, or Teutonic myths must be treated by the same method, and if it may now be fairly affirmed that such myths as those of Asklepios, Herakles, and Perseus have been removed far beyond the sphere of human life, we at once begin to see the framework on which these Saga stories have been built up. Unless we have some better evidence than that of mere assertion for the statement that Kephalos and Prokris, Erechtheus and Kekrops, were real human inhabit- ants of Athens, we must see in the legend the simple story of the dew dried up or slain by the heat of the day.' In the northern stories the hero frequently dies before his son, who is to take his place or to revenge him, is born ; or, as the Greek story would have it, Apollon has forsaken Korouis before her child sees the light. This is simply the legend of the birth of Volsung,^ whose father Rerir goes home to Odin, leaving his wife sick at heart, like Leto while she wandered from land to land before the ' MytMogy Ar. Nat. ii. 30-91. - The story goes that the childless Eerir besought the aid of the god y^\\o sent Freya in the guise of a crow, with an apple which she dropped into his lap. Eerir took it and gave it to his wife, who then became the mother of Volsung. This apple reappears in the myth of Persephone, and in that of Nana the daughter of the river-god Saugarios. — Mythology of the Aryan Nations, ii. 298. 14 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. birth of Phoibos. It is told again of Macduff, ' and they say that the youngling kissed his mother or ever she died.' So uniform is the career of children thus born that Grrimm could say generally, ' Aus dem ]Mutterleib geschnittene Kinder pflegen Helden zu werden ; ' ' and the embrace which they barely give to the dying mother is the embrace which Orpheus, Alpheios, and Phoibos seek in like manner to give to Eurydike, Arethousa, and Daphne, as each vanishes away. In a form still more striking, this mythical death of the parents of fatal children is exhibited in the story of Agni, the Vedic fire- god, whose parents are the two sticks from which his flame is kindled, and which he devours as soon as he is born. If the tree which rises through the roof of Volsung's hall has a singular likeness to the world-support- ing Yggdrasil, the story of Odin who thrusts into this tree-trunk the sword which can be drawn out only by him who is destined to wield it, merely reproduces the myth of Aigeus and Theseus. The weapon will yield to no liand but that of Volsung's son Sigmund, and at his touch it leaves the trunk as though it were a feather floating on the water. Here we have the counterpart of the great stone which Theseus, when he had reached his full strength, lifts without effort, to find the sword and sandals which his father had buried beneath it. In the Arthur story it is again a stone, and the pith of the tradition is given in the motto carved upon it, ' Whoso pulleth this sword out of this stone is rightwise born king of England.' This sword, in the Volsung story, is Gram, a weapon from the same armoury with the brands of Arthur and of Eoland, and the spears and arrows of Phoibos, Odysseus, Achilleus, Philoktetes. For this sword there is a deadly contest between Sigmund and his I^eople and the men of king Siggeir who has married ' Deutsche Mijthologic, p. 362. Introduction. 1 5 Sigmund's sister Siguy. The result is that Sigmund and his ten brothers are bound, the deaths of these ten brothers being brought about in a way which will be familiar to all who are acquainted with modern Hindoo folk-lore. As in the story of the wolf and the seven little goats the wolf swallows six of the kids, but is ripped up before it has swallowed the seventh ^ (a myth parallel to that of Kronos who swallows his children), so here Sigmund alone escapes the she-wolf ^ who each night devours one of the ten, and who is the mother of king Siggeir, the enemy of Volsung and his children. Sigmund now, being loosed from his bonds, dwells in the woods, like many of the heroes in popular German and Norse stories ; and Signy, his sister, sends to him one of her children, the son of Siggeir, to whom Sigmund gives his meal-bag, charging him to make bread. The boy fails to do so, being afraid to set hand to the meal-sack, because somewhat quick lay in the meal ; and at the bidding of Signy, Sigmund slays him. The same fate befalls her next child, and then we come to an incident which shows still more clearly the nature of the materials with which we are dealing. Signy changes forms with a witchwoman whom she leaves with Siggeir, and going into the wood be- comes by her brother Sigmund the mother of Sinfjotli,^ who safely goes through the ordeal before which her children by Siggeir had failed. The child, when he is asked if he has found aught in the meal, answers, ' I misdoubted me that there was something quick in the meal when I first ' Mythology Ar. Naf. i. 358. ^ This is, in short,, the superstition of Lykanthropy. See Mythology Ar. Nat. i. 63-363. Siggeir, it is scarcely necessary to say, is, throughout, the darkness, and the irreconcilable enemy of Volsung, though he has married his sister. Hence also his wife is his persistent enemy — the dawn being the bride as well as the child of darkness, with which, however, she is in instinctive antagonism. » Mytlwlogy Ar. Nat. i. 275-279. 1 6 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. fell to kneading of it ; but I have kneaded it all up together, both the meal and that which was therein, what- ever it was.' Sigmund replies with a laugh 'Naught wilt thou eat of this bread this night, for the most deadly of worms hast thou kneaded up therewith.' This worm is almost ubiquitous in Teutonic and Scandinavian myths ; and unless all the results of comparative mythology are to be overthrown or set aside, it is the Python of Delphoi, the Ahi and Vritra of the Hindu, the Grrendel of Beowulf, the Chimaira and Dragon of Bellerophontes, Perseus, and lason. Its death is the slaying of the darkness, whether of the night or of the winter ; and the weakly children which fail to slay it answer to the ill-fated knights who fail ' in tlieir efforts to pierce the thorn hedge beliind which sleeps Briar-rose, or to leap the barrier of spears which guards the sun-maiden of Hindu fairy tales. When at length the malignant power to whom Signy is wedded, like the wife of Bluebeard, has been overcome, she exults in the thought of her son Sinfjotli, and says : — ' I let slay both my children, whom I deemed worthless, for the revenging of our father, and I went into the wood to thee in a witch- wife's shape ; and now behold Sinfjotli is the son of thee and of me both ; and therefore has he this so great hardihood and fierceness, in that he is the son of Volsung's son and Volsung's daughter, and for this and for naught else have I so wrought that king Siggeir might get his bane at last . . . And merrily now will I die with king Siggeir, though I was naught merry to wed with him.' Having thus said, she kisses her brother and her son, and going back into the fire dies with Siggeir and his men. Even in this strange part of the legend we may fairly acknowledge both ' the nature and beauty with ' Pojvdar liomances, Introd. p. 3-t. Introduction. 17 which it is filled' on the one condition that we are not called on to interpret this nature of humanity. There may be possibly parallels to such doings among the savages of Fiji or Dahomey, or in the deeds of some exceptional French and English murderers; but that such things should come into the heads of decent folk without awakening in them, and in those to whom they might speak of them, a feeling of indignant horror, is a simple impossibility. When a like idea was presented to the Grreek mind in the marriage of Oidipous and his mother lokaste, this horror was roused directly by the thought of its bearing on the conditions of human society. Hence the sequel of bitter woes and the terrible drama which is brought to an end in the sacred grove of the Eumenides. Throughout, on the part of the involuntary actors, there is nothing but grief of mind and agony of conscience. Here there is nothing but exultation, as well for the incest as for the wild havoc wrought without any motives higher than those which might prompt the treacheries of Andaman islanders. But when in Greek myths we get away from the circle of human affairs, and find ourselves among the inhabitants of Olympos or of Aither, we discern precisely the same indifference to that which we may fairly call Aryan morality in any of its forms : and in Zeus and Here, Artemis and Apollon, sister and brother, wife and husband, we see tlie original form? of which Signy and Sigmund are the reflexions. Another story which we encounter at almost every turn in the popular traditions of iSorthern Europe, is that of the Snake Leaves, or the magic herb which has connexioE the power of restoring life to the dead. This Heigi and story, which we have in the myth of Glaukos and stories. Polyidos, as related by Apollodoros, and in the Hindu tale of Panch Phul Ranee, is obviously connected with the healing and life-giving serpent.' Here the remedy is used ' Mythology Ar. Nat. Book II. ch. 2. sect. 12. C t8 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. by Sigmuud to bring back to life his son Sinfjutli. whom he has torn in the guise of a wolf,^ like the Lykeian Apollon or Herakles in the lion's skin. If to these incidents \s& add the slaughter of the younger children of Signy and Siggeir, which merely repeats that of their elder brothers, we have gone through almost the whole mythical history of the sons of Kerir to the days of Helgi, Hunding's slayer. These causeless murders, on any human explanation, are repeated by Grudrun, and they do but reflect the murder of the children of lason by their mother Medeia ; and thus we have scarcely a single feature in the Helgi sagas which is not seen in the myths of other nations, and which may not be again fovmd in the main body of the Volsung story. But although the story and its several incidents, if judged by a human standard, become incredible or impossible, the myth, like the Icelandic Grrettir saga, acquires a deeper and a truer interest, when it is referred to the phrases whicli deter- mined its shape and character. The darlings of Aphrodite and Eos return to life after their early death ; and in one version Sarpedon shares this high destiny with Memnon and Adonis. This thought begins to fade away in the myth of Asklepios, although he himself raises others from the dead, and becomes fainter still in the legends of Achilleus and Odysseus. It is startling to trace precisely the same stream of thought in the stories of Northern Europe. In the lay of Helgi, Hunding's bane, Sigrun takes the place of Eos weeping over the death of Memnon : — Helgi, thy hair Is thick with death's rime : With the dew of the dead Is my love all dripping : Dead cold are the hands Of the son of Hogni. How for thee, my king, May I win healing ? Her prayers avail so far that Helgi, the phantom horse- » Mythol. Ar. Xat. Book 11. ch. 2. vol. ii. p. 23. Introduction. 1 9 man in Burger's ballad of Lenore, comes to her on the great mound, where she has dight a bed for him on which she will come and sleep soft as she was wont when her lord was living, and they remain together till the dawn comes, when Helgi must ride on the reddening paths, and his pale horse must tread the highway aloft. The Sagaman adds simply, that ' in old time folk trowed that men should be born again, though the troth be now deemed but an old wife's doting; and so, as folk say, Helgi and Sigrun were born again, and at that tide was he called Helgi the Scathe of Hadding, and she Kara the daughter of Halfdan.' When we reach the story of Sigurd, the destroyer of Fafnir, this old faith, which rested on the re-appearance of Baldur, Osiris, Tammuz, Zagreos, or Adonis, has already grown weaker. The story of Sigurd is the story of Achilleus ; and though dire vengeance may be taken for his death, yet he himself is seen on earth no more, and Gudrun in her agony cries out, ' Oh ! mindest thou not, Sigurd, the words we spoke that thou wouldest come and look on me, yea, even from thy abiding-place among the dead ? ' Such is the simpler form of the myth, which is more fully developed in the Volsung tale, and attains its utmost growth in the story of the Nibelungs. Fafnir and At every step the points of connexion may be ^^s^"^- traced without difficulty ; and in all we find that recur- rence of the original myth under different names, which betrays the limited powers of human invention. As in the Arthur story, no sooner are the adventures of one hero ended than another starts up to do the same things over again, or tlie same series of exploits is being achieved by two or more knights at the same time. But the main point to be noticed is that the objects of their career and the mode in which they seek to attain them are always the same, and in most cases tell their own tale with a clear- ness which it is impossible to misapprehend. The story 20 Tales of the TetUonic Lands. of Sigmuud is in its main features the story of the son who avenges him, and Signrd's victory is won only with the sword which Odin himself had shattered in his father's hand. It is the myth of Theseus, or of Perseus, or of many another ]\ero of more southern lands ; but the myth has been modified to suit the harsher climates of Northern Europe. In both it is the uncouth smith of the gods who forges the weapon by which the solar hero is to bmite the dragon or worm of darkness and cold, and Pafnir answers probably in name as well as in character to the Delphian Python.^ B\it there is a hatred between Kegin and Fafnir which we do not find between He- phaistos and Python. The northern myth drew a dis- tinction between the gigantic Hrim-thursar, the powers of frost, or the deadly worm which does their work, and the dwarfs who, like Eegin, represent the wonderful properties of the mineral and vegetable kingdoms, the capacity for growth and energy locked up under the surface of the earth. ^ Hence from Eegin comes the command ^vhich charges Sigurd to slay his kinsman Fafnir and thus to end their quarrel for the treasures which Fafnir had contrived to get into his own keeping. The mode by which this antagonism was brought about is among the most significant features of the legend. The treasures are the ransom by which Odin, Loki, and Hahnir,' the gods of the bright heaven, are compelled to purchase their freedom from the sons of Eeidmar whose brother, the otter, they have slain. By way of atonement they are not only to fill the otter's skin with gold, but so to cover it with gold that not a white hair upon it shall remain visible ; in other words, they are to set the earth free from its fetters of ice, and so to spread over it the golden ' Grimm, D. M. 345, regards these words as standing to each other in the relation of Qy)p and <^-i\p. 8ee Mythology of A. N. i. 279. " lb. i. 276. Eunsen, God in History, ii. 484. - MyiMogy A. N. i. 372. Introddction. 2 1 sunshine that not a single streak of snow shall be seen upon it. But the most precious thing among the treasures of the dwarf Andvari is the golden ring from which other golden rings are constantly dropping. It is the- source The story of all his wealth, for in fact it is the symbol of andGudrun. the reproductive powers of nature, which in a thousand myths is linked with the wealth-giving rod of Hermes or of Vishnu.' On this treasure, whether it be tlie dower of Brynhild or of Helen, there rests the curse which leads to theft and betrayal, to vengeance and utter ruin ; and the doom which Eegin brings on Fafnir falls also on himself so soon as Sigurd learns that Eegin seeks to cheat him of the dragon's wealth. No sooner, again, is the story of Brynhild ended, than the woful tale is repeated in the sequel of the gloomy history of Cfudrun. Brynhild is the peerless maiden who has slept in a charmed slumber caused by the thorn of winter thrust into her right hand by Odin, like the Kakshas' claw which leaves Surya Bai, the sun-maiden, senseless in the Hindu story. ^ One knight alone can rouse her, and that knight is Sigurd, But Brynhild knows that she can never be suffered to dwell with the man whom she loves; and the very vehemence of her love drives her to bring about his death as he lies in the arms of Grudrun. Thus Grudrun, who is the companion of the sun in his middle journey, has yet to be wedded to two husbands, the gloaming and the darkness, or the autumn and tne winter's cold ; ^ but she resolves that sooner or later Sigurd shall be terribly ' Popular Bomances, Introd. p. 27. Mi/ih. A. K Eook II. ch. 2. sect. xii. 2 3. ii. 304. ' It is possible that the natural fact which underlies this portion of the Volsung story may have coloured such Icelandic stories as the tale of Gunnlaiig and the Fair Helga, which is in substance the same as that of the Lovers of Gudrun, included among the beautiful narratives of Mr. Morris's Earthly Paradise. But this is a point on which it is unnecessary to lay stress. 2 2 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. avenged. The treasures won by Sigurd were in the hands of Gudrun s brothers, and Atli, her second husband, bent on getting possession of them, invites them to a feast and receives them at the spear's point. Hogni and Grunnar are taken prisoners, and Atli, whose name some would seem to think prophetic of the Hun Attila, insists on their yielding up Sigurd's wealth. G-unnar answers that he will do so, if Atli will bring him the heart of his brother Hogni, and on seeing it he tells the king that now the secret rests with himself alone, and that it shall never be tortured from him. He is then thrown into a pit full of snakes, but with the harp of Hermes or of Orpheus he charms the serpents, until, like Eagnar Jjodbrog, he is bitten to the heart by an adder which is deaf to his charming. The time for vengeance has now come. The Kolchian Medeia slew the children of lason after she had sent the death-dealing robe to Glauke. With fiercer revenge Gudrun feasts Atli at tlie awful })anquet to which Astyages in the old Greek story invited Harpagos, and then having slain him with the aid of her brother Hogni's son, she makes the whole hall his funeral pile, and sends all Atli's men to bear their master com- pany to the dwelling-place of the dead. Gudruu's lot become? darker, like the northern summer drawing to- wards its close. The sea into which she plunges to end her misery bears her away to the land of King Jonakr, and the last act in the terrible drama begins. It is practically a repetition of the scenes which have gone before. Gudrun becomes the wife of Jonakr the lord of tlie winterland, and mother of his three children, Saurli, Hamdir, and Erp. From her summer home she now summons Swanhild, Sigurd's daughter, whom Jormunrek would have as his wife ; but the curse of the treasure still works. Jormunrek's son wooes her for himself, and is slain by his father's command. The beautiful Swanhild is trodden down by the horses of his knights as she combs Introdtiction. 2 3 out her long golden locks, and Jormimrek himself is slain by two of the sons whom Grudrun had borne to him. The tlionghts of Gudrun turn to the golden days when she dwelt with Sigurd, and she passes away from the land of living men, like the last expiring flicker of a dwindling autumn twilight.^ In this series of incidents which belong to the great tragedy of the year as clearly as the most transparent Vedic descriptions of Ushas or the Maruts, the dawn- ^^^^ ^^^_ light and the storm, we have more than the lungeniied. framework, not only of the Volsung tale, but also of the Nibelung lay. That the former is virtually reproduced in the latter is disputed by none. The few points of difference lie in the change of a few names. The wife of Siegfried in the lay is not Grudrun but Kriemhild ; but Kriemhild, like Grudrun, is the sister of Grunnar, who now becomes Grunther, King of the Burgundians, and, as in the Volsung story, she has to mourn the death of Siegfried, whom Briinhild does to death by means of Hagen. But in its general spirit the story has undergone no change. Siegfried, like Sigurd, is the invincible hero with the sword which no enemy ever withstood. He has bathed his body in the dragon's blood, as Achilleus and Demophoon were plunged into the bath of fire, and no weapon can hurt him except on one spot between his shoulders on which a linden leaf rested while he bathed, as Achilleus could be wounded only in the heel, and Rustem slain only by the thorn, or Baldur only by the mistletoe. On this spot he is pierced by the spear of Hagen, and from that time forth Kriemhild has no rest imtil she exacts a vengeance more fearful than that which * For a more minute examination of this Saga, see Mythology Ar. Nat. Book I. ch. xii., and Daseut, Popular Tales of the Norse, Introduction. A shorter summary, exhibiting most clearly the solar character of the whole epic, may be found in Professor Max Miillers Essay on Comparative Mythology, Chips, ii. 107,- et seq. 24 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. Gudrun wreaked on the murderers of Sigurd, or Odysseus on the robber-suitors of Penelope.' These older epics, so massive in their outlines, so rich in their details, could not fail to furnish materials for a Theieprend thousaud Tomauces to writers who sat down in Aquitaine. their closcts to Spin stories for a less robust and hardy generation. Thus the Xibelungenlied was watered down until it assumed the form of the legend of Walttr of Aquitaine, who plays in it the part of Siegfried, Here, as in the lay, we have the names Gibicho, Gunther, and Etzel, and a possible historical element in the hostages taken to the country of the Huns from Basqueland and the banks of the Khine, and perhaps also in the de- scription of the life and court of the Hunnish chief, when he returns to his home and to his wife Helche, or, as some call her, Ospirin. But with tliese exceptions the tale exhibits the old incidents, to which the writer has given a more cheerful ending. Grani, the war-steed of Sigurd, appears here as Lion, and like Grani is able to carry from Etzel's house the heavy treasure which Walter bears away with Hildegund. He is returning to his home in the land where the sun goes down, with the golden hoard which had been the bane of Fafnir and Regin, of Brynhild and Gudrun, of Sigurd and Siegfried. But Walter has to face and to overcome dire perils in the greed and enmity of King Gunther. The lord of Worms resolves that the hoard shall not be carried through the land of the Franks, and with his knights he assails Walter on his journey. But Hagen who accompanies him has lost much of the dauntless corn-age which marks him in the Nibelung story, and his advice to Gunther is that he should feign a retreat, and thus ^athdraw ' I havp here noticed only the leading incidents •which form the frame- work or skeleton of the poem. For a detailed analysis of the Nibelungen- lied and the earlier sagas on which it is built up, I must refer the reader to the Mi/thology of the Aryan Nations, Book I. eh. xii. Introduction. 25 Walter from the stronghold in which he had placed Hildegund and his treasure. This counsel, which is given after the death of many knights, is followed by Gunther, and in the combat which ensues Walter smites off a leg from Gfunther's body, and is about to deal him the deathstroke when Hagen interposes his helmet, and the blade of Walter's sword is shivered. In a moment of rashness Walter raises his arm to throw the hilt away, and Hagen, quick as lightning, strikes off his right hand. The penalty for this deed is soon exacted. Walter draws with his left hand his short Hunnish dagger, and tearing Hagen's right eye from its socket casts it on the ground ; these incidents being borrowed from the myths which make Zio or Tyr and Indra Savitar • lose each his right hand, and speak of Woden as leaving an eye in pledge at the fountain of Mimir."-* The blood thus drawn is held to wipe away the old enmity; and Hildegund is summoned to perform the office of Asklepios, or Oinone, or Helgi, the healers.^ From this point onwards all is smooth. The rivalry of courtesies follows the rivalry of swords and spears, and even Etzel is bidden to the feast when, having reached the hero's home, Hildegund becomes the wife of Walter. More pure than Helen, but not less radiant, she returns from Helen's exile with Helen's wealth, to shed joy and gladness on all around her. In the story of Hugdietrich we have only another version of the tales in which a maiden is shut up in a lonely tower, and none can approach her except ,pj^g ^^^^y ^^ the knight who is destined to win her. Whether Hugdietnch. it be Danae or Eapunzel, or the Eose of the Alhambra,'' all precautions are vain. Craft achieves what force vainly strives to accomplish, and in the guise of the womanly Theseus, or Achilleus, or Dionysos, Hugdietrich finds his ' Myth. A. N. i. 385. = 3. ii. 18. ' /i. i. 286. * 76. ii. 301. 26 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. way to the prison house of Hildeburg, where, like Odysseus, he shows his skill in weaving. The legend of the birth of his child is a travesty of the myths of Cyrus, Eomulus, Telephos and many others.' In all these the beast takes up the child from a kindly impulse ; in the legend of Hugdietrich alone the babe is taken away to be devoured, and it becomes necessary that some one should discover him at once, instead of suffering liim to remain like Romulus or Paris in the beast's lair. In the story of GTudrun the daughter of Hettel, the name Hagen is given to a child who is carried away, like Gany- The storj of mcdes or Surya Bai, by a griffin to his nest among Sughter*of the rocks, and who there grows up to the strengtli Hettel. ^£ jjianhood, his only companions being three maidens who like himself have been stolen away from their homes. One of these, on his return to his home in Ireland, becomes his wife, and with the birth of his daughter the story starts afresh in the path of the thousand myths which speak of a host of knights wooing a maiden to their own destruction, until the destined hero comes to claim her. But Hilda is scarcely a more prominent person in this portion of the lay than the sweet singer, Horant or Hjarrandi, who appears as Orendil or Aurentil in the Hamlet my ths,^ and is no other than Orpheus or Amphion, Pan or Wainamoinen. The fortunes of Grudrun, the daughter of Hilda and Hettel, are those of the fearless maidens who are born to be the cause of strife and warfare, and who after long suffering and shameful toil are raised to the glory which is their birthright. In vain Hartmuth of Normandy and Siegfried of Moorland ask her in marriage ; in vain Herwig of Zealand seeks to have her as his wife. But more bold than the others, Herwig marches with his knights to the walls of Hegelingen, and in a combat to which he challenges Hettel is wellnigh winning the day ' Myth. A. X. ii. 74, S3. ' Popular Eomances, Introduction, p. 76. Introdtidion. 27 when Gudruu rushes between them. To her prayer that the battle may cease, Herwig yields assent on condition that she will wed with him. The troth is pledged, the words being added that (xudrun never changes. The sequel of the story is a long comment on her invincible fidelity. In revenge for the slight put upon him Siegfried invades Denmark, and while Hettel besieges Siegfried in the fortress to which he has driven him, Hartmuth witli his father Ludwig makes a raid on Hegelingen, and carries Gudrun with many of her maidens into Xormandy. There Hartmuth seeks vainly to win the love which is pledged for life and death to Herwig ; but the catastrophe of the Danish army, and the death of King Hettel who comes to rescue his child, seem to leave to Gudrun no hope of escape from her bondage. Time goes on ; fair means and foul are alike employed to work a change in her mind ; and the beautiful Gudrun is brought down to the low estate of the royal maidens who, like Cinderella or the Goose Girl of popular stories, are compelled to work among the ashes or the kine. But Gerlinda the mother of Hartmuth, who thinks thus to break her spirit, brings on herself a terrible vengeance, when once more the Danish host comes, and Herwig with them, to rescue Gudrun from her long captivity. The Frithiof Saga contains, perhaps, an amount of local history larger than that which may exist in the Nibe- lungenlied ; but some of its most striking The story features it shares with confessedly solar legends. andEngl"^ Frithiof himself is invested with the attributes ^•'°''^" of that large class of solar heroes of whom Herakles may be taken as the most splendid representative. He is the man born to be great, but for a time others are placed at a vantage over him. He is as the son of Alkmene, the bondsman of Eurystheus, the Boots of popular stories, who must not presume to wed the royal maiden on whom he has set his love. Never- 28 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. theless he carries with him the earnest of his great inheritance. The rising of the bright snn-god Baldur, who comes back from the land of the dead to gladden earth and heaven, is the token of the high destiny which awaits him. He bears in his hand the invincible sword of Perseus ; on his arm is the magic ring wrought by Wayland the smith, which we have seen among the treasures of Andvari the dwarf; and the good ship Ellide does his bidding like the Phaiakian barks or the marvellous ship of the .Esir. But many a dark cloud must cast its shadow on his path before the sky may shine bright and clear before him. Like Herakles, he must pass through a time of madness such as that which falls on Lancelot and on Tristram. The doom of exile also is upon him, and he must be a wanderer over earth and sea, like Siegfried and Sigurd, like Wuotan and Indra, like Phoibos and Bellerophontes. Like these he achieves mighty exploits ; like Herakles and Odysseus he longs to see once more the maiden from whom he has been parted ; and at length, when his unwitting offence has been expiated, he wins her as his bride. The three remaining stories in this volume are the Icelandic tales of Grrettir the Strong, of Gunnlaug and The story of Helga, and of Burnt Njal. Taken together they Grettir. havc a significance as showing the differences of material on which the Saga-men worked. The story of Grrettir abounds in impossibilities ; and of these impos- sible incidents all, or almost all, occur again and again in tales which are confessedly mythical. That these are too many in number, and of too striking a character to be the result of accident, I have already endeavoured to prove ; ' and the portrait of Grrettir himself presents an astonishing likeness to that of the heroes who in Norse and Teutonic popular tales are represented by Boots and « Mi/thology A. X. Book I. ch. 12. Iniroduciioji. 29 Dummling. Hence it may, I think, be fairly asserted that this saga has few or no distinctive features, and can scarcely be regarded as in any sense a record of incidents in Icelandic life. This cannot be said of the stories of Gfiinnlaug and Burnt Njal. Neither of these exhibits the characteristics of the Grettir Saga: and if we cannot shake off The sagas of tjie suspicion that the Njal story, in its present andNjai! shape, is the result of greater exaggeration and over- colouring of details, there is little or nothing in the Gunulaug tale which may not have occurred in the annals of Icelandic families.^ A comparison of these two stories with those which precede them in this volume is more especially of service, as showing the classes into which the popular Qassigca. traditions of a country may throw themselves. *'°"„°*j. So surely as we approach the limits of the actual traditions. history, whether of nations and tribes, or of families, or of individual men, so surely are we at once removed from that magic circle within which old mythical phrases have produced their magnificent and exuberant harvest : and thus we are enabled to measure the degrees by which the Hellenic traditions of the Trojan war and the Teutonic stories of the Yolsungs and Niblungs are removed from tales which, like the Frithiof and Grettir Sagas, may contain a certain amoimt of local history inextricably imbedded in a mass of mythical details, or which, like the story of Njal, may be simply an over-coloured narra- tive of events which may really have occurred ; or lastly, which, like the Gunnlaug tale, may contain historical statements which, from trustworthy historical documents, we know to be true or approximately true. The myths ' The long grief and the repeated marriages of Helga, -which recur in Mr. Morris' poem of the Lovers of Gudrun, may be suggested possibly by the myth of Gudrun in the Volsung tale. But on this point, as I have already said, I do not wish to lay stress. 30 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. which liave gathered round the Persian Cyrus in his earlier years, and in the ckisiug scenes of his life, cannot affect the historical knowledge which we may have of his career from sources which are beyond suspicion. So long as these sources are clearly ascertained, there can be, it woidd seem, no possibility of conflict between the com- parative mythologist and the liistorian. TBE STORIES OF THE VOL SUNG S. I. THE STOKY OF SIGMUND AND SIGNY. SiGi was the son of All-father Odin. One day he went a hunting in a wood with a thrall named Bredi, and because Bredi slew by far the most and the finest of the deer, Sigi was angry at being outdone by a thrall ; wherefore he rose up against Bredi and slew him, and hid his body in a snow-drift. For that cause fled Sigi from his father's land ; but Odin bare him company lest any should take vengeance on him, and brought him to the sea, and gave him war-ships. Then Sigi went a warring, and made himself a realm in Hunland and there reigned. Howbeit, in his old age they of his own liousehold turned against him, and made a revolt and slew him. Then arose Eerir his son, who overcame the rebels and stablished afresh the kingdom of his father. And after many years, when King Eerir had accomplished all his vengeance on his enemies, and gotten together mucli wealth and great possessions, insomuch tliat he was envied of all kings, he was greatly troubled because he and his wife being fallen into age had no child to come after them ; and it seemed to the king as though he had toiled and warred for naught. Then cried they both without ceasing to the gods to give them a child. And Freyja took pity on them and fetched an apple and gave 32 Tales of tJic Teutonic Lands. it into the hands of Ljod her handmaiden, daughter of the giant Hrimnir, to give to the king. So the sky- maid put on the dress of a crow, and came fl3'iug to where King Rerir sat musing on a mound, and dropped the apple in his lap. Then the king took the aj^ple and gave it to his wife, and she ate thereof. In due season the time of the queen's travail came and passed by, yet could she in nowise be lightened. And while she still lay sick, it befell that King Eerir went on a journey to the wars, and on his way a weariness over- came him, and he went home to Odin. Six years the queen lay in her trouble, neither could she by any means be delivered, till finding herself a dying, she bade them cut the child from out her body. They did as she bade them. She kissed the child at his birth, named him Volsung, and then died. Volsung grew a mighty warrior, stronger and more daring than any of his time. He wedded Ljod, the handmaiden of Freyja, and she bare him, first a son and daughter, Sigmund and Signy, which were twin, and after that nine sons. And all his seed were high-minded and of great hardihood and cunning, in which things the Volsungs far surpassed all other folk before or since. Now when Volsung's daughter, Signy, was come of age to wed, Siggeir, King of Gothland, came across the sea to ask her for his wife. Volsung had built a great mead-hall. So big was it that there stood an oak tree named Eranstock in the midst, the limbs whereof branched all about the roof, and the roots under-ran all tlie benches. In this hall Volsung made a feast for Siggeir, and led forth his daughter Signy, and betrothed her to him in presence of his men. But Signy was very loth to the marriage, liaving no mind towards the King of Gothland ; yet in this as in all things she bade her father rule for her. Now on the dav of the wedding feast, at eventide wlien The Stories of the Volsimgs. ^2} the men sate by the firelight at either end of tlie hall, and the great oak was shadowing the midst in gloom, there came amongst them an old man, one-eyed and of great stature. He was clad in a spotted cloak and linen breeches tight as hosen. He wore a slouched hat on his head, and went barefoot ; in his hand was a sword. He took no heed of any, but went straightway to the Branstock and smote the sword up to the hilt into the tree-trunk. Then said he, 'Whoso plucketh out this sword from this stock shall have the same as a gift from me, and shall find in good sooth that never bare he better sword in hand than this.' And the old man passed out : neither durst any question him whence he came or whither he went. Then each man hasted to be first to try and pull out the sword, thinking it a very easy matter. But beginning with the noblest they all made trial, yet not one of them could pluck it forth. Last of all came Sigmund, Volsung's son, and no sooner did he set finger on the pommel than it loosed itself lightly to his hand. King Siggeir, beholding how goodly a sword it was, prayed Sigmund to sell it for thrice its weight in gold ; and when Sigmund would not, he was very angry, for he coveted the weapon, yet made as though he cared little thereabout, for he was a double-dealing man. There was fair weather on the niorrow after Siggeir and Signy were wed, and Siggeir got ready to cross the sea again, neither would he abide as the custom was for the end of the feast. Then came Signy, pleading to her father that the marriage might be undone, for that she had no liking for her husband, and foreknew, besides, that great evil would befall if she went away with him. But Volsung said there was no help for it, inasmuch as they were all pledged to the wedding. King Siggeir made Volsung promise to come over to Gothland with D 34 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. his men in three months' time, and there finish the feast : then he set sail with his bride. At the time appointed Volsimg and his sons went over the sea to Gothland to the feast. But as soon as they were come to land, Signy came and talked with her father and brothers privily, saying : ' Siggeir has made ready a great army to fall upon you, wherefore make all speed back to Hunland, and gather together what war- ships you may, and come and fight with him. But turn l)ack for this time or you will surely be slain.' ' Daughter,' answered Volsung, ' all people know that long ere I was born I spake a vow that I would flee neither from fire nor sword. Men die but once, and I have fought a hundred fights and never prayed for peace.' Then Signy besought that they would at least let her die with them, and not send her back to King Siggeir. But Volsung said, ' Thou art his ; wherefore go back.' So she went back sorrowing. Now at daybreak King Siggeir made ready his host and led them fortli to hunt down Volsung and his handful of folk. A brave fight the Volsungs made against that host. Eight times they hewed their way through, and turned to cut the mass in twain again, but in that fray King Volsung fell and all his men, saving only his ten sons, and these King Siggeir took and bound with cords. Then he carried the ten brethren away to a lonesome wood, and caused a great beam to be brought and set upon their feet. And each night for nine nights as they sate in the stocks, there came ravening from out the wood an old she-wolf, and bit one of the brethren till he died, then ate his flesh and went her way. But on the tenth niglit when only Sig- mund was left alive, Signy sent a trusty man to anoint his face with honey, and to set some in his mouth. That night when the she-wolf came she sniffed the honey, and began licking his face all over with her tongue ; and when she had licked it dry, she thrust her tongue into his mouth The Stories of the Volsungs. 35 for more. Then Sio'mund caught her tong-ue betwixt his teeth and held it fast, and the she-wolf started back and set her feet against the beam and tugged. Sigmund gripped hard with his teeth, and the she-wolf pulled, until the beam was broken in the fierceness of their tussle, and the beast's tongue came out by the roots. So the she- wolf had her bane. Men say that she wasSiggeir'smotlier who by witchcraft took the wolf-shape. After this, Sigmund being loosed from the stocks dwelt in the woods, and none save his sister Signy knew of hi? liiding there. He made him an earth-house underground and dwelt therein, and Signy nourished him with victuals. Signy had two children by King Siggeir, but as soon as ever the eldest was ten years old she sent him away to her brother in the wood, because she would have him trained up to avenge King Volsung's death. One day Sigmund gave the boy the meal-bag and set him to make ready the bread whilst he went to gather firing. But Sigmund, when he came back with the wood, found no bread ready. The boy sat trembling and afraid to put his hand into the meal-bag, saying that there was something alive therein. Wherefore the next time his sister visited him Sigmund said, 'What shall I do with this feeble-hearted brat?' She answered, ' Kill him ; there is none of our blood in him.' Sigmund made no more ado but took and slew him. And when Signy's other son was grown of like age she sent him also to her brother; and for the same cause she bade Sigmund slay him. One day, as Signy sat in her bower, there came a wise witch- wife toiler saying, ' Change likenesses with me.' And Signy being willing, the witch-wife took upon herself tiie likeness of the queen, and in that shape abode for three days with King Siggeir. Then Signy in the guise of the witch-wife came to Sigmund in his earth-house, saying, ' I have strayed in the wood and lost my way. I pray thee give me food and slielter.' And Sigmund knew her not, o 6 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. but took ber in and set meat before her. So for tliree days and three nights she abode with him in his earth- house. Then she departed and met the "witch-wife, and they changed themselves to their proper seeming again. Afterward Signy bare a child whose name was Sinfjotli. He grew a big and hardy boy ; fair of face like the Vol- sungs. When he was ten years old, Signy sent him to Sigmund. But first she sewed gloves on to his hands through flesh and skin. When she had done the like to the other boys they wept and screamed, but Sinfjotli never winced ; nor yet when she flayed off" his kirtle, though tlie skin came off with the sleeves. So soon as the lad was come to the earth-house, Sigmund set him to knead the meal while he went to fetch firing. By the time he got back the bread was made. Then Sigmund asked if he had found aught in the meal. ' Aye,' said the boy, ' there was something quick therein, I know not what ; I kneaded it all into the bread.' Sigmund laughed and said, ' Thou hast kneaded the deadliest of vipers in the meal.' Then Sigmund ate the bread, but woidd not suffer the boy to taste thereof, for Sinfjotli, though he might take no hurt from venom on the outside of him, dm'st not eat or drink thereof. After that Sigmund took the lad about the woods and trained him to a fierce and hardy life. But he wist not that the boy was his son. They gat VN^olf- skins from before the door of two men that were skin-changers, and clad themselves therein, and came forth in wolf-shape to slay men for their wealth. Whilst in this guise, it was agreed betwixt them that neither should risk the onset of more than seven men at once without howling for his fellow. And because one day Sinfjotli in his wolf-dress fought eleven men and slew tliem all, Sigmund finding him after the battle was angry, and ran upon Sinfjotli and worried him by tlie throat, because he had not called for help. Nevertheless when Sigmund saw the wound he had made in the lad's throat The Stories of the Volsuiigs. 3 7 he was sorry and looked how he miglit heal him. And as it fell out, he saw a weasel bitten in the throat and hoAvhis fellow ran to a thicket and brought a leaf and laid it upon the wound, and the creature was made whole. Then Sig- mund got a blade of that same herb, and therewith tSinfjotli's hurt was immediately healed. But when the time came for them to put off their wolf-gear, Sigmund took and burned their dresses lest more harm should befall because of them. Now Sinfjotli being come to manhood, Sigmund took counsel with him as to how they should come upon King Siggeir to slay him, and accordingly as they agreed, they stole into the porch of the king's hall in the dusk of even- ing, and hid themselves betwixt the tuns of ale. Signy and the king had two young children ; and as these played in the porch with a golden toy, a ring came off and went trundling away among the barrels. And when the children went seeking it, they saw two fierce, wild men crouched down, and away they ran to tell their father. While the king sat doubting, and thinking it no more than a young- ster's tale, Signy took both the children and brought them out into the porch, saying to Sigmund, 'Here are the brats that have betrayed you. Slay them! ' Sigmund answered, 'Nay, for they did it without guile.' But Sinfjotli came forth from his hiding and drew his sword and slew them both. And he took the bodies and cast them into the hall at Siggeir's feet. Then up rose the king and his men, and set on so fiercely and in so great numbers that they took Sigmund and Sinfjotli and bound them. The most of that night the king lay awake devising the worst death he could make these men suffer ; and on the morrow he had a big barrow made of turf and stones, and a great flat stone set up endwise for a wall in the midst. He set Sigmund and Sinfjotli one on either side of the stone, so that they might hear each other's speech but in no wise come to- J 8 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. gether. Then he gave the word to cover in the barrow with earth and turf-sods and bury them quick. But as tlie thralls were working, Signy came and flung an armful of straw into the barrow ; and the men kept her counsel. About nightfall the barrow was closed in. And Sinf- jotli began to talk to Sigmund. He said, ' We shall not lack for meat, since the queen hath cast down swine's-flesh on my side wrapped in a bundle of straw ; and in the flesh thy sword is sticking.' Then SinQotli took out the sword and carved at the stone until he wrought a hole therein. And as soon as Sigmimd could grip the sword- point on the other side they set to work and sawed the stone in twain. So being loose in the barrow they cut their way through the earth, and got out into the air some while after midnight. They then went and cut down wood, and set it round about the palace and kindled it. And when the palace was all ablaze Signy came running to the window. Sigmund would have got her out, but she would not. And Signy said to Sigmund, ' You have done well ; but judge if I have forgotten vengeance for King Vol- sung ! Did I begrudge to slay the worthless brats I bare to Siggeir ? But I am mother to SinQotli I For Siggeir's bane I lodged with thee those three nights in the witch-wife's shape. Be glad ; thou art Sinfjotli's father. He is the child of Volsung's son and Volsung's daughter, and by him vengeance has come for Volsung. But I ? — / come away ? and miss to see King Siggeir burn ? Nay, brother dear ! Merry was I not to wed with Siggeir, but merrily will I die with him.' Then leaned she from the window and kissed Sigmund lier brother, and Sinfjotli, and went blithely back again into the fire and burned with Siggeir and his men. After this Sigmund and Sinfjotli came back to Hun- land, and they put down a man there which had made himself king in Volsung's room ; and Sigmund reigned The Stories of the Vols? nigs. 39 over Hunland and made himself a name far and wide ; moreover, he took to wife Borghild, who bare him two sons, Helgi and Hamund. Now Sinfjotli must needs go to war again for a woman's sake that was very fair. For this cause he fought with the queen's brother, who likewise had set his love upon the same maiden. And Sinfjotli slew him and won his lands and took the damsel to himself. But Queen Borghild was not to be appeased for the slaying of her brother ; and for all Sigmund could do it was a long- while before she would let Sinfjotli look upon her face. Howsoever, she bade many great men to the funeral feast, and Sinfjotli came among the rest. And when tlie queen bare the drink to the guests she filled him a horn saying, with a fair courtesy, ' Drink now, good stepson.' But he looked in the horn and would not taste thereof, for he said, ' A charm is therein.' Then Sigmund laughed and rose up from his seat, and took the horn and drained it at a draught. Again the queen came to Sinfjotli, and mocked him, 'Wilt thou get another man to drink thine ale ? ' He took the horn, and answered, 'There is guile in the drink.' So Sigmund came and tipped it off. The third time came the queen saying, 'What Volsung doth not drink his drink?' He took the horn into his hand, and said, ' There is venom in the cup.' Sigmund, grown drunken with his ale, cried, ' Then strain it out with thy lips, son.' So Sinfjotli drank, and fell down dead upon the floor. Then Sigmund rose up in grievous sorrow. He took the corpse in his arms and bare it away through a wood till he came to a river-mouth. And he was ware of a man in a little boat who asked if he would be ferried across the water ; but the boat was so small it would hold but one, so they laid the corpse therein. And imme- diately corpse and man and boat vanished from Sig-. 40 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. mund's sight. So he turned and came home ; and he put away his queen, and soon after that she died. King Eylimi had a fair daughter named Hjordis, and Sigmund went to woo her. Thither also came King Lyngi, Hunding's son, on the same errand. And King Eylimi spake to his daughter, saying : ' Thou art a wise woman, wherefore, choose whether of these two kings thou wilt take.' She answered, ' Although he is well stricken in years, I choose Sigmund, since he is the man of greatest fame.' So Sigmund was wedded to Hjordis and brought her home to Hunland, and King Eylimi came with them. But King Lyngi gathered together his men and came up against Sigmund to fight with him hecaiise he had taken away his bride. Sigmund sent Hjordis away into a wood, together with a certain bondmaid, and with all the treasure, to abide there whilst they fought. Then he and King Eylimi set up their banners by the sea and blew the trumpets ; but their army was by far the fewest. Old as King Sigmund was he hewed with his sword ever in the thickest of the battle, and smote down men till his arms were red with blood even to the shoulder. Yet neither host gave way. Now when the battle had lasted some while, there came into the fight an old man in a blue cloak, with a slouched hat on his head. He had but one eye, and in his hand he bare a bill. And when Sigmund lifted up his sword against him, the old man set his bill in the way, so the blade smote upon the bill-edge and shivered in two. But the old man was no more to be seen. Then great dismay spread through Sigmund's host, because his good-hap was departed from him. And though the king cried on his men all he might, they fell fast about him ; and by eventide King Sigmund and King Eylimi were fallen in the forefront of the battle, and the war-noise ceased. The Stories of the Volsiings. 41 At Light came Hjordis stealing out of the wood, and went to and fro among the slain, seeking for Sigmund. There was yet a little life in him, and she said, ' Waken, dear lord, thou shalt not die ; but we will lieal thee to avenge my father.' He answered, ' It may not be ; neither will I suffer myself to be healed since Odin has broken my sword. But, behold now, thou wilt bear a child, and I know that he sliall grow up the most famous of the Volsungs. Him shalt thou nurture to do thy vengeance ; only see thou treasure the shards of my good sword, Gram, for thereof shall a sword be made for him which shall accomplish great wonders. But now I am weary with my wounds, and I would fain go home to my kindred.' So Hjordis sat by him till the dawning, when he died. Now at sunrise came Alf the Viking, son of Hjalprek King of Denmark, sailing along the coast, who, seeing two women alone with the dead upon a battle-field, leaped ashore with his men and came to them. Then Hjordis told w-hat had befallen, and lest the treasure in the wood should fall into King Lyngi's hands she discovered its hiding-place to Alf, and they got the treasure out and laded the ships therewith ; and Hjordis and her handmaid sailed away to Denmark with the Vikings, and came to King Hjalprek's palace and there abode. II. THE STOEY OF HELGI, HUNDING'S BANE. Helgi was Sigmund's son which Borghild bare. Helgi made a name for himself when he went up to battle against Hunding that mighty king, and slew him and took his lands. So was he Hunding's bane. Afterwards came Hunding's four sons with many warriors, and fought to win back their land, but Helgi overcame them and put their men to the rout. 42 Talcs of the Teidojiic Lands. Now as he was returning from this victory Helgi met a company of exceeding fair women, and the queen of them was Sigrun, King Hogni's daughter. So fair was she tlmt Helgi could not take his eyes off from behold- ing her, and he spake to her, saying, ' Fare home with me and be my queen.' But Sigrun answered, ' Would that I might, for verily my heart goeth out toward thee, but I have a worse fate to accomplish, since my father hath promised me in marriage to Hodbrod, the son of King Grranmar ; and him I despise. Go, fight him ; win me, and I am thine.' Then Helgi sent out men with money to hire as many ships as they might. They got together many vessels and near a score thousand men, and Helgi made sail for King Granmar's country. They made the land at Wolf- stone, and fought their way ashore. Fierce was the battle that befell ; and in the midst there came a com- pany of shield-maidens and fought on Helgi's side, chief of whom was Sigrun, the king's daughter. Then Helgi fell on King Hodbrod and slew him beneath his own banner ; and seeing this Sigrun cried out, ' Thou hast done well, and now I pledge thee my troth. We will share the land between us.' So Helgi, when he had overcome King Granmar and his host, became king of that realm and wedded Sigrun. After that Hogni, Sigrun's father, came up against him because he had taken away his daughter ; and with him also came Dag his son. But Helgi slew Hogni, and put his men to the worst ; and as for Dag, after he had taken an oath from him to make war on him no more, he let him go in peace. But Dag went his way and sacrificed continually to Odin, praying that he might avenge his father. And at last Odin lent Dag his spear, and with that spear in his hand Dag came seeking Helgi his brother-in-law, and finding him in a place The Stories of the Volsicngs. 43 called Fetter-gTove, thrust him through therewith that he died. Forth rode Dag to his sister Sigrun, to tell her the tidings. ' Lo,' said he, ' Helgi have I slain, and our father is avenged I ' Sigrun answered, ' Now are my good days past ; no more shall I tind gladness in the pleasant sunshine. Cursed be thou for a foul oath-breaker. May thy ship linger when it should sweep the swiftest I May thy steed lag when thou wouldest fain flee fastest from thine enemies ! Thy sword, may it never bite till in wrath it singeth roimd thine head I But as for Helgi, my love, he was chief among all other men, as the ash- tree that riseth from the thorns, or as the antlered deer is above the forest-game.' Then she raised a barrow above Helgi and gave him a noble burial. And when Helgi was gone up to Valhalla, Odin made him lord over all things there, and Hunding came and served him, and made ready his fire, and tended his hounds and horses. In the gloaming of the evening there came one of Si- gruu's handmaidens to Helgi's mound, and behold she saw Helgi and a great company of dead warriors riding fast about the mound. Then she ran and told her mistress, and Sigrun hasted and came thither, and finding the mound uncovered, she went m and took Helgi's cold head upon her lap. Thus she made her moan : ' Helgi, my dead love, I hunger for thee as the hawks of Odin hunger for their quarry. See, I kiss thy hair all dripping with cold dews ; I take thy hands in mine. let me warm thee back to life against my breast, and bring the light to those dull eyes again ! ' And the dead man spake to her. He said : ' Now shall all death-sorrow depart from me if thou wilt dwell with me in my mound ; if thou, a fair white maiden, wilt abide in the arms of a dead man.' Then Sigrun commanded a bed to be made ready in the mound, and for all her folk told her that the dead were 44 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. stronger and more hurtful in the night-season than in the daylight, she went in thither and lay by her dead lord. But in the early twilight Helgi rose iip, sayingj ' Hark, I hear the crowing of Salgofnir, the golden cock upon Valhalla. I must ride my pale horse along the reddening ways to Windhelm's bridge. Farewell ; the dead ride fast.' Therewith Helgi departed, and after that came no more to tlie mound. Sigrun watched and waited night by night, till the hope of his coming waned away. Then because of her sorrow she sickened and died. Of old it was commonly believed that folk should be born again. And it was said that Helgi the Scathe of Hadding, who lived long after, was none other than Helgi, Hunding's bane ; and they say that Kara the Valkyrie, daughter of Halfdan, was Sigrun. III. THE STORY OF SIGURD AND BRYNHILD. Now soon after Hjordis was come to Hjalprek's palace in Denmark, she bare dead Sigmund's son. They called his name Sigm-d, and, as he grew up there was no child but loved him. Truly he waxed a man of great might and prowess, and for his high mind and his stout heart he has ever been held above all the men of the north. Regin was his foster-father, and taught him the runes, and to speak with strange tongues, and play at chess, as was the wont of kings' sons. So the boy grew up, and his mother in due time wedded with Alt", King Hjalprek's son. One day Eegin asked Sigurd if he knew how much of his father's treasure the king had, and whether he could trust the king therewith. Sigurd answered, ' Trust him ? Aye ; why not ? I can get it when I want it.' Another time came Regin, saying, ' I marvel truly to see thee run about afoot like a knave. Why doth not the king give The Stories of the Volsiuigs. 45 thee a horse to ride ?' Sigurd said, ' I need but ask and liave.' Therewith he went to King Hjalprek and asked for a horse ; and immediately the king bade him go take one for himself, together with whatsoever thing else he desired ; for the king loved him as though he were liis own son. Wherefore on the next day Sigurd went alone into the wood, and meeting there an old, long- bearded man, he said, ' I am come to choose a horse ; give me counsel thereon.' Then the old man drave the horses down into the deeps of the river Busil-tarn ; and it fell out that they all swana back to land save a young grey horse whose back no man had crossed. ' Take him,' said the grey-beard, ' he is of Sleipnir's breed ;' and saying this the old man vanished away. That old man was Odin ; he gave Sigurd the foal Grani which was the best horse in the world. Regin came again to Sigurd, saying, ' I can tell thee where there is much wealth for the winning and great fame to be got thereby. On the Grlistening Heath dwells the dragon Fafnir ; he has more treasure than any king ever yet heaped together.' Sigurd said, ' I have heard of this evil worm and how he is so terrible none durst go against him.' Regin answered, ' Nay ; men men make a great tale about him, but he is no worse than other ling- worms. Thy fathers, the old Volsungs, would have recked little of him.' Sigurd said, ' I am scarce out of my childish yeai's, and have not yet the hardihood of my sires ; but why art thou so eager to drive me to this encounter ?' Then Regin told him about Fafnir, saying, ' I had two brothers, Fafnir and Otter. Otter was a great fisher, and by day he put on the shape of an otter, the better to take the fish, but he always brought them home to Hreidmar our father, begrudging nothing. As for Fafuir, he was greedy and grasping, and wanted everything for his own. In the swirl where Otter went fishing abode a 46 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. dwarf called Andvari, in the likeness of a pike, for which reason the swirl was named Andvari's force. One day Otter caught a salmon in the force and brought it to land, and when he had eaten it he lay slumbering on the bank. It befell that Loki passed that way with Odin and Hahnir ; and Loki, seeing Otter asleep, flung a stone and killed him. Then they flayed off the otter's skin and brought it to Hreidmar's house, and showed him what they had done. But when Hreidmar saw that they had slain his son he was wroth, and immediately laid hands on them, neither would he let them go till they promised to fill the otter-skin with gold, and cover it without with gold. Then went Loki to Ran, and having borrowed her net, cast it into Andvari's force and took the pike ; and he made Andvari bring out his gold and fill the otter-skin and cover it without. Andvari gave up all his gold save only one ring, for he said tliat whoso had that gold-ring should find it his bane. But when the gods brought the otter-skin to Hreidmar he looked at it and spied one of the muzzle-hairs uncovered ; and he would have Andvari's last ring to cover that hair withal. Then Loki rejoiced, saying to Hreidmar, " That ring shall be the bane of thee and thy son !" And so it fell out. For Fafnir murdered his father to get the gold, and after that became more grudging than ever. So he grovelled till he grew a worm, the worst of worms, and fell to brooding on his treasure. But I went to King Hjalprek and became his master-smith.' Then Sigurd said, ' If thou wouldst have me slay this dragon, make me now by thy craft a trusty sword.' Straightway went Regin to his forge and made a sword. When it was done Sigurd took the sword in his liauds and smote it on the anvil to prove it, but the blade brake and he cast it away, bidding Regin forge a better. So Regin blew up his fire and made another sword. But Sigurd looked thereon and said. ' A plague The Stories of the Volsungs. 47 on thy smithying-, Regin I Art thou a traitor like all thy kin ?' And he took that brand and brake it likewise across the anvil. Then went Sigurd to his mother Hjordis and asked foi- the shards of his father's sword Gram. And when he had gotten them he came to Regin in the smithy and bade him weld them together. Regin, grown surly by this time, flung the pieces in the fire and took a welding- heat on them. When the sword was joined, and he bare it from the forge, it seemed to the smith that fire burned along its edges. Then Sigurd took and smote the sword into the anvil, and clave the anvil down to the stock ; but the edge of the blade was not turned. He took a lock of wool and flung it in the river against the stream, and cut it clean in two with the sword. And he said, ' It is a good blade.' And Regin said, ' Now I have made a brand for thee thou wilt keep thy troth and go and fight with Fafnir.' But Sigurd answered, ' All in good time, but first I must avenge my father.' Sigurd went away to Gripir the seer, who knew things to come, and what should happen to men ; and he be- • sought Gripir to foreshow him his life. Then spake the seer : ' Thou wilt get riches from a dragon, but thou wilt squander them. Thou shalt win fame from many kings, and tliere shall come after thee no greater man than thou. Thou shalt learn wisdom from a woman and yet not be wise against women. Thou shalt forget her thou lovest best and woo her for another, and a woman shall be thy bane.' But Sigurd was angry with the seer, and said, ' How- could I forget her I loved best ?' And he came away. A little after Regin met him and said, ' Why tarry longer ? Go and slay Fafnir.' But he answered, ' I have other work to do.' Then came Sigurd to King Hjalprek and asked him for men and ships and war-gear wherewith to go and avenge his father on the Huudinss. And tlie kino- ha vino; 48 Talcs of tJie Teutonic Lands. furnished him with all he desired, Sigurd steered the noblest of the dragon-keels, and led the way across the green sea-plain. For some days they sailed with fair wind and weather ; then the colour faded from, the sea, the wan sky gathered thick with piling clouds, the wave- momids rose, the storm-wind beat their crests to foam and flung the spume-flakes wide. Like breaking hills the waters tumbled in upon the deck ; yet, for all the storm was so fierce, Sigurd would take in no sail, but rather bade his men crowd on the more. No Volsung ever furled sail for any wind that blew. In the midst of the storm a certain man hailed them from a cliff top, and Sigurd steered that way and took him aboard. When they asked his name he said, ' Once when I gladdened Odin's ravens in the battle, men called me Hnikai\ Call me that, or Feng or Fjolnir, as you will.' Then Sigurd, being ware that Hnikar knew the fates and what was to come, asked him concerning the things which betoken good and evil to a warrior. Hnikar said, ' It bodeth good for him that goeth to war if he see a dark-winged raven, or two young warriors in a porchway, or if he hear a wolf howl from beneath an ash-tree. To trip the foot when clad for battle is a sorry token, for it showeth that the Disir are on either side of thee, and greedy for thy wounding. The warrior should go forth in the morning well combed, well washed, well fed, so he may endure the toils of the day ; but at evening let him fight with his back to the setting sun, that the eyes of his enemy may be dazzled, while his own may see the better.' Soon afterwards the storm abated, and Hnikar vanished away. And when the vessels were come to Hunland where King Lyngi the Hunding reigned, Sigurd got his men ashore .and laid waste the country with fire and sword, and drave the folk inland, so that they fled to their king and told him how the Volsungs were pillaging the shores. Then King Lyngi sent messages throughout his realm and The Stories of the Volsungs. 49 gut togetlier a great army and came out, he and his brothers, to withstand Sigurd ; and an exceeding fierce tight there was. Sigurd went about the battle with his good sword Grram and smote down men and horses till one could not see his mail for blood, and his foes shrank aback before him. He it was who smote Lyngi down, tlinnigh helm and chine, and slew all the other sons of Hunding ; then his men fell on the discomfited host and put the most part of them to death. So Sigurd won back his father's land, and after abiding there for a short space, he came again to Dennaark. He had been but a little while at home when Regiu came and minded him of his promise to go and fight Fafnir. So Sigurd gat him ready and rode with Regin to the heath where Fafnir was wont to go to his w^ateriug. They saw the mighty tiack he made, and how it led to a cliff whereon the drake would lie and hang his head over to lap the water thirty fathoms below. ' Thou hast beguiled me, Regin,' said Sigurd, ' in that thou didst say this drake was no bigger than other ling-worms, whereas I see by the track of him that he is very great.' But Regin counselled him to make a pit in the drake's path- way and sit therein, so that when the worm came to his watering he might smite him to the heart. Then said Sigurd, ' Aye, but the blood of so huge a creature will flood the heath, and fill the pit, and drown me therein.' Regin answered, ' What profiteth it to give thee counsel? Thou hast not the courage of thy kindred.' Howbeit, when Sigurd rode away over the heath to seek the dragon, Regin sneaked oft' and hid himself to save his skin. Now when Sigurd was at work digging the pit, he wa:i ware of the same old man with the long beard who gave him his horse. The grey-beard bade him dig many pit3 wherein the blood might run, and then vanished away. So Sigurd made pits all about the heath and hid himself in one of them. Presently the great worm came creeping K 50, Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. along his track, snorting venom as he went, and shaking the earth with his roaring. Sigurd had no fear, but from the pit thrust up his sword and smote the drake beneatli the left shoulder to the heart. Then Fafnir, when he knew he had gotten his death- thrust, lashed out right and left in his madness, and brake to pieces all the trees about him. And he spake to Sigurd, saying, ' Who drove thee to this deed ? And who art thou that fearest not m}^ terribleness like other folk ? ' Sigurd said, ' My heart, my hand, my sword, these urged me to thy slaying. I am Sigmund the Volsung's son, and " an old sire maketh a hardy boy." ' Then said Fafnir, ' Rejoice not to win the gold ; there is a curse on it, and it shall prove thy bane as it has been mine.' ' Fret not thyself to lose it then,' answered Sigurd, ' for naught it availeth for a man to cling to his gold when his life-day is done ; but as for me I will hold it till that day of days.' Now as soon as Fafnir Avas dead, Eegin crawled out i'rom his hiding-place and began to make great ado, .saying, ' Alas ! thou hast slain mine own brother, and verily I am not wholly guiltless in this matter.' Sigurd mocked him for hiding in the heather-bush, and bade him Itake comfort, for that he was guiltless of aught save cowardice. Regin said, ' Boast not thyself, for had it not been for the sharp sword I made thee thou couldst not have prevailed against him.' Sigurd laughed, ' Better in fight is a stout heart than a sharp sword.' Then Regin fell to lamenting again, saying, 'My brother is dead, and, good sooth, but it was I that slew him.' Nevertheless, for all his heaviness, Regin went to the body of the worm and began to drink of Fafnir's blood : and he spake to Sigurd, saying, ' I pray thee cut the heart from out him, bear it to the fire and roast it, and give me to eat.' Then Sigurd took the drake's heart and set it on a spit and made a fire and roasted it. But as it sputtered in The Stories of the Volsiings. 51 tlie fire he laid bis finger thereon to try if it were done, and set his finger in his mouth. And so soon as Sigurd tasted of the worm's heart-blood, he understood the voice of all fowls, and knew what the wood birds chattered in the bushes. One said, 'Sigurd, give not the meat to another, but eat it thyself — so shalt thou become the wisest of men.' Another spake, ' Eegin doth but beguile thee that he may get the treasure.' ' If I were Sigurd.' said a third, ' I would smite off his head, and save all disjDviting about the gold.' ' Well magged, gossip,' cried another bird, ' for " where wolf's ears are be sure their teeth are not far oif ; " and when he has done so, let him ride to Hindfell, There sleeps fair Brynhild, and from her he shall gain great wisdom.' Sigurd thought within himself, ' Eegin shall never be my bane ; so let both brothers ti^avel by one road ' — and with that he drew his sword Grram and smote off Eegin's liead by the shoulders. Then straightway the birds broke out a- singing, and in their songs they told of Brynhild, the maiden that lay sleeping in a flaming hall of gold upon the mountain Hindfell ; told how Odin struck the sleep-thorn into her because, being a Valkyrie, she had chosen for death in battle one he willed not to be slain : told how only Sigurd might wake her from the torment of her sleep. Then Sigurd ate of Fafnir's heart and put by the rest ; and after that he went and sought out Fafnir's dwelling- place, which was dug deep into the earth, and got the treasure out. There was more gold than two dray-horses could carry, besides the Helm of Awe and the gold Byrnie, and many other precious things. He set the gold in two big chests and laded them upon his hors3 Grani, whom he would fain have led by the bridle, because the buiden was so great; yet would not that good steed stir till his master leaped upon his back. Then, swift as the wind, he E 2 52 Talcs of ike Teutonic Lands. syjed away for Hindfell which lies by the land of the Franks. Now when Sigurd came to the mountain, he saw as it were a flame of fire and a great light go up from Hind- fell. And wlien he reached the top, behold, a shield- hung castle shining with the glory of the gold ; above, upon the topmost tower, a banner ; but all about was desolate and still. Then went he in. There was silence, save his footfall sounding in the hall. But as he wan- dered hither and thither he came upon a fair maiden fast asleep and lying in her armour. At first he wist it had been a man, till he took her helmet off and saw the golden locks stream all about her head. So fast was the byrnie set upon her that it seemed to have grown to her flesh ; and because of this byrnie in which she went to the wars, the maiden was called Brynhild ; but Sigurd cut it with his sword as it had been no more than cloth, and rent it from the collar and tare the sleeves away. Then Brynhild opened her eyes and said, 'Who has prevailed to rend my byrnie and to deliver me from my long sleep ? ' He answered, ' I, Sigurd the Volsung, slayer of Fafnir ; I that bear Fafnir's helm upon my head, and Fafnir's bane in my liand ; I rent the byrnie.' Brynhild said, ' Long and wearily have I slumbered ! Jfow sweet it is to see the day again, and the bright sky, and the plentiful green earth ! It was when Helm Gunnar fought with Agnar, and Odin promised him the victory, that I rebelled against All-Father and chose for death Helm Cfunnar in his stead ; so Odin pierced me with the sleep-thorn, and doomed me when I woke to love but to ])0ssess not; to wed, but not to have my will. Yet vowed T a vow that I would only love a man which knew nut tV^ar.' Then Sigurd V)esought lier to teach him wisdom. J>rvnhild fetched a 1 eaker and made a love-drink and The Stories of the I'olsungs. 53 bare to him ; and while he drank she showed him the liidden lore of the runes that are the root of all things. She taught him runes of war, of love, of feasting, and of healing ; showed him words and signs that have power over herbs, and cattle, and men— yea, that compel the .Esir up in Asgard ; showed him how and where to carve them, on gold and glass, on mead-horn, on the sword-hilt, on the rudder of the ship, on bough and fiower-bud, on chariot-wheel, upon the eagle's bill, and on the witch- wife's seat. As Sigurd listened, his eyes beheld her beauty whilst she spake ; and he said, ' Surely no wiser nor svveeter woman than thou art may be found in the wide world ; therefore will I have thee for mine own, because thou art grown so dear to me.' She answered, 'Though I bad all the sons of men to choose from, thee would I take beyond them all.' And so they plighted their troth. Then Sigurd rode away. His golden shield was wrought with many folds ; pictured thereon was the image of the drake, in brown and red. Gold-wrought were his weapons, gold the housings of his horse, and on them all was blazoned the image ofthedrake, that men might know the slayer of the great worm P^afnir. His hair was golden-red and fell about his face in locks ; his beard of the same hue, thick and short : high-nosed he was ; high-boned and broad his face ; so bright were his eyes that few durst gaze up into tJiem. He was wide as two men betwixt the shoulders ; and as for his height, when he girt on his sword Gram which was seven spans long, and passed througli standing corn, the sheath-point smote the ears as lie went. Persuasive was he of speech, and so wise withal that none could gainsay his words ; gentle to his friends, terrible to his enemies ; and no man ever shamed him or put him in fear. Sigurd journeyed till he came to Hlymdale to tiie dwelling of a great chief named Heimir, who had wedded 54 Talcs of the Teutonic Lands. l^ckkhild, a sister of Brynhild. And since Heimir besoiigbt him to tarry awhile, he turned in thither and there abode ; and daily went out with Alswid, Heimir's son, for sport with hawk and hound. Soon after, came Brynhild also to the castle to see her sister ; but Sigurd knew not of her coming, neither saw Jier ; for she came unseen and went up and dwelt in a chamber in a high tower. There she sate day by day embroidering upon a cloth with golden thread the slaying of the dragon Fafnir and his brother Eegin, and the winning of the treasure. But one time when Sigurd came from hunting, his hawk flew up to a high window in that tower ; and climbing after it, Sigurd looked in at the window and saw a maiden, and how she wrought his deeds in gold with wondrous skill and long patience. When he knew that it was Brynhild, he took no more joy in hunting, but left his steed idle in . the stall, and his liawksto pine upon their blocks. Then Alswid asked, what ailed him that he would no longer join their games. He answered, ' I have seen Brynhild, the fairest woman, and in her needlework she works the story of my life ; deeds past and deeds to come.' Alswid said, 'It is vain to think of her ; for Brynhild has never let a man sit beside her, nor given him drink ; she is a war-maid and driveth men to battle to win fame ; but none may love her.' ' Nevertlieless,' said Sigurd, ' I would make trial and know for certain.' So on the next day he came to Brynhild in her bower and greeted her. She said, '- Glad am I since thou art here, but who shall say if glad- ness may endure to life's end ? ' Then he sate down beside her on the bench ; and she forbad him not. There came four damsels bearing mead in golden beakers. Brynhild arose and poured the wine and bare to Sigurd, and gave him to drink. He took the beaker ; then took the arms that bare it, and drew them about his neck, and kissed her ; she forbad him not. And he said, ' Thou art the The Stories of the Volsungs. 55 fairest maid in all the earth, and I am wholly thine.' But Brynhild said, ' Is it wise to plight all thy faith to a woman ? Thou mayest change and break thy pledge.' He answered, ' If my tongue pledged thee not, my heart is fixed for now and ever. I can never change, however long the day till we are wed.' Brynhild, foreknowing what should come to pass, looked up in pain and said, ' Beloved,' that day will never come ; for it is fated that we may not abide together.' Then waxed Sigurd exceedingly sorrow- ful and said, ' What fruit shall there be of all our life-days if we are sundered ? Harder would it be to bear than the sharp sword-stroke.' She answered sadly, ' Thinkest thou that I have naught to bear ? When as a war-maid I set my. helm upon my head, and go forth to battle to help the kings, will it be to me a light thing to know that thou art wed to Griuki's daughter — thou whom I love so dear ? ' Then Sigurd cried, ' Grod forbid that I should do this thing. Am I a double-hearted man that any maiden should beguile me away from thee ? Thee and no other woman I swear to have for mine own, and naught shall ever sunder us.' So with many like words did Sigurd comfort her, and he gave her moreover for a pledge a gold ring. It was Andvari's ring, the last ring of his hoard, which he had cursed. And after they had plighted their troth anew he went his way and joyously hunted with Alswid and his men. South of the Khine dwelt king Griuki and his queen Grimhild. There they ruled a wide realm, and had three sons, Gunnar, Hogni and Guttorm, all men of great valour and renown, and an only daughter named Gudrun, who was bright and fair as the summer sunshine. But one night Gudrun dreamed an ill dream, andher joy departed from her, neither would she take pleasure in anything till she should learn what the dream might signify. And when there was no one found within her palace that could read the meaning of the dream, her maidens counselled her 56 Tales of the Teiitonic Lands. to seek out Brynhild because of her great wisdom, and })ecause she knew the runes which are the root of all things. So Grudrun arrayed herself and her maidens in apparel of great price, and took her journey and came seeking Brynhild. Brynhild sate in her hall, well knowing who was come seeking her, and she sent to meet Gudrun and her women, and brought them to the castle, and served them there with meat and drink in silver vessels, and gave them good greeting. Then perceiving Cfudrun to be somewhat shy of speech, Brynhild began to talk of the great men of the time and their deeds. And when she had spoken of Haki and Hagbard and Sigar and many more, Grudrim said gently, ' Why hast thou not named my brethren, for in truth they are held to be first among mighty men T Impatient of her words Brynhild answered, ' Of what use to talk of them, or even of those whereof I spake ? Hast thou not heard of Sigurd the Volsung ? He is king of them all, and more renowned than any man.' Then with fondness in her eyes she told of Sigurd's birth and nourishing, and dwelt with pride upon his deeds. Gudrun said, ' Per- chance thou lovest him, and so dost deem him peerless. But lam saddened with a dream, and have no mind to speak of other things. Wilt thou tell me truly what it loetokeneth ? ' 'I will keep back nothing,' answered Brynhild. ' I thought in my dream,' said Gudrun, 'that as I Avandered in a wood with many other maidens, we saw a hart with golden hair, that for its beauty and greatness far excelled the other deer of the forest. We all sought I0 take him, deeming him more to be desired than all other things. How it befell I know not, but I got him. Then I took and nurtured him, and he grew so dear to me tongue cannot tell, when suddenly there came a fierce woman — ' Brynhild's face grew dark and angry. The Stories of the Volsiings. 57 Gudrun looked into her eyes and cried, ' Brjnhild, it was thou ! Thou earnest as I fondled him, — ' Brynhild cried fiercely — ' Yea. / came and shot the deer upon thy knees, gave thee a wolf-cub in his stead, and sprinkled thee with thy brothers' blood. Was that thy dream ?' (rudrun bowed her head and hid her face. • Then hear the reading of it. Thou wilt take Sigurd from me, but thou shalt not have him long. A mighty strife will come by cause of thee and me, and blood will flow. But woe is me ! P"'or I may never win my well- beloved. Away ! lest I seek to tempt the Fates again ! ' Then Grudrun and her maidens rose up quickly and journeyed home ; but Brynhild sat and mused upon her punishment ordained of Odin. Now Sigurd bade farewell to king Heimir and took his way with his war-gear and treasure and came riding till he reached the hall of King Griuki, who seeing his comeli- ness, and how he shone in golden array, at first deemed him come down from the gods, but when he learned his name and knew him for the slayer of Fafnir, bade him welcome to abide with them. So Sigurd remained with King Giuki and his sons, and proved himself foremost in all their war-games. But Giuki's wife, Grimhild, when she saw how goodly a man Sigurd was, and heard him speak continually of Brynhild and his love for her, began to cast about how she might lead him to wed with her daughter Gudrun. For she saw that even her sons held him for a man of far greater prowess than they. So one night when tliey sate drinking in the mead-hall, the queen arose and bare a subtile drink to Sigurd. Sigurd took the horn, but no sooner had he drank thereof than the remembrance of Brynhild and all his love for her straightway departed from him And the queen said, ' Why journey further ? Abide 58 Tales of the Teutonie Lands. with us ; Giuki will be thy father, I thy mother; Guniiar and Hogni shall be thy brethren. Tarry here, and we will make a kin<;dom stronger tlian any upon earth.' Sigurd liked her speech, for his memory was stolen away by the iuchantment of that drink. So he abode with them, and strengthened the realm ; and Giuki and his sons prospered exceedingly and made themselves greatly to be feared of all kings round about, because of Sigurd's abiding there. Then it befell that as Gudrun poured the mead one night and gave him drink, Sigurd took note hoAV fair she was and full of courtesy. And ever thenceforward his eyes would follow her about and rest upon her face. Giuki was very glad thereof, and came to Sigurd saying, ' Seldom will a king offer his daughter to any man, but rather will wait to be intreated ; yet because of thy might and worthiness Gudrun shall be thine ; yea, though none other man should get her for all his prayers. Take her to wife and make alliance with us, and go no more away.' And the thing seemed good to Sigurd, because the maiden was very fair in his eyes ; and he answered, ' Great is the honour which thou payest me. Let it be as thou hast said.' So they made the marriage feast, and Sigurd was wed to Gudrun. He gave his new-made wife to eat of the remnant of Fafnir's heart ; so she grew wise and great- hearted. After that Sigurd fared abroad with Gudrun's brothers, and they won lands and wealth and renown, and became great kings. When they were returned from their journeyings, Grimhild called Gimnar her son, and said, ' Gold and land hast thou in plenty ; yet one thing thou lackest, my son, in that thou art unwed. Go now and woo Brynhild, for of all women there is none more meet for a king's bride.' The Stories of the Volsumjs. 59 80 Guunar spake to his brethren and to Sigurd, and they all rode with him over hill and dale till they came to King- Budli's house, and asked Iiis daughter of him. But Budli answered, ' I cannot say you yea nor nay, since Brynhild is so high-minded ; she will wed whom she will. Go, and may your wooing prosper.' Then came they to Heimir in Hlymdale. He told how Brynhild abode upon the mountain Hindfell, in a castle girt about with fire, and how she swore to wed that man alone who should ride through and come to her. So they took their journey and rode up the steep sides of Hindfell, when lo they saw a castle with a golden roof-tree, hedged all about with roaring flames. Straightway Gunnar put his horse to face the fire, and smote the spurs into his flanks: but the horse stood shuddering, and backed and reared, but would not go forward. ' Lend me thy horse Grani,' said Gunnar to Sigurd, ' for mine will not tread this fire.' With right good will Sigurd got him down from off his horse, and Gunnar mounted him. Grani galloped to the fire, but there stood still : neither for all Gunnar could do would he go into the flame. Then Sigurd said, 'I will compass the matter for thee; ' so he and Gunnar changed likenesses. And Sigurd taking upon himself the shape and seeming of Gunnar, mounted Grani. Now when he bad his master on his back, and felt his golden spurs, Grani leaped blithely into the fire. Fiercer the flames iiprose and licked the sky ; red rolled the clouds ; the earth shook with the roaring of the fire. Yet Sigurd rode on, and with his g-ood sword Gram he cut the flames to right and left, and laid them low. So the fire slaked and he rode on and through, and reached the palace, where sate Brynhild in her byrnie, proud as swan on wave, her helmet on her head, her sword in hand. He lighted off his horse and came into the hall. 6o Talcs of the Tc2i tonic Lands. She asked him, ' Who art thou ? What woiildest tliou in my hall ? ' Sigurd answered, ' I am Grunnar, son of King- Giuki. For thee I have ridden through the fire, and now I claim thee for my wife.' Heavily she spake : ' I have little mind to wed. 0. (irunnar, save thou be the best and chiefest among men I pray thee go thy way. For I have been in battle with the kings ; red is my sword with the blood of warriors ; and still I hanker after war.' He said, ' I, Grunnar, have ridden through the fire for thee ; and by thine oath, for weal or woe, do I constrain thee.' Then because of her oath Brynhild rose from her seat and greeted him as her lord, and served him at the table. Tliree nights lay Sigurd beside her in her bod ; but betwixt them he set his naked sword-blade. And when she would know why the sword lay there, he told her that so it was fated he should wed his wife. And after three days when Sigurd would depart, Brynhild drew from her finger the ring whicli he had given her before — the ring which Andvari had cursed — and set it for a pledge upon his hand. He gave her another ring from F'afnir's treasure ; then rode back through the fire and came to Gunnar. The men changed semblances again and journeyed homeward. Then came Brynhild to Heimir her brother-in-law, saying, ' Behold, a king named Gunnar rode through my fire. Truly I weened no man save Sigurd, my beloved, should have dared those flames. But Gunnar trode the fire and I am his.' He answered, * Who can ever tell what shall be ? Who can alter that which is ? ' Afterward King Giuki and Grimhild his queen held a great feast, and made a wedding for their son. King Budli came ; with him his daughter Brynhild, and Atli her brother : Sigurd and Gudrun were there. Great was The Stoi'ies of the Volsiings. 6i tlie joy at the feast, and great was the rejoicing throughout tlie realm, because Grunnar was married to the fair Brynhild. They twain sate together at the table in the mead-hall, and pledged each other in the wine-cup. But Sigurd went away apart and groaned in spirit ; for at that feast his memory came back. He thought upon his broken oaths ; knew what he had won and lost, and gloom fell on him. One day the two queens went bathing in the river together ; and seeing Brynhild go much further out into the water than she dared venture, Gudrun asked where- fore she did this. Brynhild answered, ' Why should not I surpass thee in all things? Thy husband is but King Hjalprek's thrall. Mine is the foremost among men. ( funnar rode through the fire for me.' Then (iudrun's anger was kindled against Brynhild because she reviled her husband ; and she answered, • Were it not better to hold thy peace as I have done ? Why revilest thou my lord ? Who but the slayer of Kafuir rode through thy fire and lay beside thee ? Who but Sigurd the first of men ? See on my hand the ring thou gavest him, Andvari's ring ! ' Very pale waxed Brynhild. She knew the ring ; and answered not, but clad herself and went her way. Next day came Gudrun to Brynhild in her bower, saying, ' Why grievest thou ? Hast thou not wedded him whom thou didst choose ? My brother Gunnar is a mighty man. Sure there is none nobler in thine eyes, none dearer to thine heart, — not even Hjalprek's thrall?' Then said Brynhild : ' Cornel and hard of heart art thou. Why wilt thou triumph over me ? Thou hast taken my love, the noblest man upon the earth. I loved him because of his glory and his might. I love him yet, him only. What is Gunnar beside Sigurd? Be satisfied; thou hast him. Love liim, for thy time is short. Aye ; 62 Tales of the Teutonic Lands. take him fast within thine arms. But hold thy peace. Tempt me not on to break with Fate and snatch him from thee ere the hour be come. Yet how can I bear to know thou hast him even for a little moment ! Thou with thy littleness of heart and poverty of love ! He with his mighty soul and peerless manliness I So cold a thing as thou couldst not have won the man that knew my burning love, save thou hadst drugged his mind to sleep and robbed his memory of my very name.' Then went Brynhild up into her chamber, and fell down upon her bed. Wan as a dead woman she grew. She spake no word, because of the bitterness of the thoughts within her. Presently came Gunnar seeking what ailed her, and after he liad urged her long, she cried, ' Go from me I I am not thine. Thou didst not dare tlie tire. With guile hast thou gotten me ; with guile thy mother stole my troth-plight's love from me. No king, no champion thou art, but a common man who in the danger-time turns joale and quakes for fear. I swore to wed the noblest man alive : I loathe thee since thou art not he. Privily hast thou beguiled me, but openly and not without warning will I reward thee. Guard thj^self quickly, for now is tliy death-day come I ' Then leapt she from the bed and drew her sword, and fell upon King Gunnar, and straightway would have taken his life, but Hogni, his brother, came running in ; and betwixt them they got her down and bound her fast. Nevertheless in a little while it repented Gunnar that he liad bound iier, and he came and set her free. Yet would not Brynliild any the more be appeased. She said, ' Never again in bower or hall shall I make merry or be glad. No words of kindness shall I ever speak or hear. No more my fingers shall do woman's work.' Then went she to her needlework wherein were wrouo-ht in ffold and divers colours Sigurd's deeds, and rent it in pieces ; and she passed up into her bower and set open the doors so The Stories of the Volsuigs. 63 that the noise of her wailing was lieard afar ; and ever she made her moan, ' Cfive me Sigurd, or I die.' So she cried out in her bitter sorrow till, grief-wearied, she fell asleep. Seven days she slept, and none could waken her. Her bower-maidens feared greatly, and said one to another, ' The wrath of the gods has fallen on her.' When Gudrun heard it she repented of her ill words, and had great pity of heart for Brynhild. And trudrun went with Grunnar to seek to waken her, but in vain ; and after that she came with Hogni, yet could tliey not get speech of her. Then Grudrun besouglit Sigurd to go, for she said, 'Peradventure thou wilt waken her; but 0, my lord, be tender to her, for her grief is very sore and hard to bear.' So Sigurd went up into her chamber and lifted up his voice and cried, ' Awake Brynhild ! For the night is past and the sun shineth all about thee.' Brynhild heard his voice and opened her eyes. ' Why art thou come ? ' she said. ' Too late hast thou remembered me ; for now thou art become the cause of all my pain.' Sigurd answered, ' Never had I aught but tenderness in my heart for thee ; but who can alter fate ? What is, must needs be borne. Thou hast a noble husband ; love him and be happy.' ' How canst thou counsel me so ? ' she said. ' Is the past all past ? And hast thou clean forgot thy troth- plight ; and how thou didst ride through the fire and win me for thine own ? My eyes have long been veiled ; and yet, methouglit that thou, not Grunnar, didst tread the flames and come into my hall. And now that I know it, I hate him bitterly.' Then Sigurd said, ' I marvel that thou lovest not (nmnar, for he is a brave man ; more to be desired is his love than much red gold. Wherefore turn thine heart toward him and for