The monster is dead. Hott has partaken of its strength-giving blood and heart. Bjarki and Hott have wrestled long, so that Bjarki has brought Hott to a thorough realization of the strength he now possesses, for that is the significance of the wrestling-match; and what better assurance could Hott have that he is now very strong than that he is not put to shame in wrestling with Bjarki who has overawed the king's warriors and slain the terrible dragon? Finally, the dragon is propped up and the two retire.
The morning comes and the monster is in view; but some of the terror that its expected arrival in the darkness had inspired has disappeared when it is seen in broad daylight. An effort ought really to be made to destroy it, but the king will not command any one to take the risk involved in attacking it. He calls for a volunteer, and the fact that no one volunteers shows what the men think of it. Bjarki sees an opportunity to continue what he has begun in the night, by having Hott do what will win him the reputation and place among the king's men to which, owing to the change that he has undergone, he is now entitled; and he calls on Hott to show his strength and courage by attacking the beast. Hott knows that the monster is dead, but this is not the reason why he accedes to Bjarki's request. He realizes now that Bjarki's friendship is beyond question and that everything that Bjarki has done with regard to him, and asked him to do, has been for the best; and though he feels that he is called upon to engage m a strange proceeding, loyalty to his friend, who probably is equal to this occasion, as he has been to every other, impels him to do as requested and assist in playing the game to the end. So he says to the king, "Give me your sword Gullinhjalti, which you are bearing, and I will kill the beast or die in the attempt."
Whether Hott has a sword of his own the saga does not tell, and it is quite immaterial. That such a coward as Hott has been has no business carrying a sword, would be sufficient justification for his being without one. But whether he has a weapon or no, if he is going to attack the monster he ought to be armed with the best sword available; and whose would that be but the king's sword? If the king expects any one to run the risk of attacking the beast, he ought to be willing to do what he can to assure success in the undertaking. He feels the force of the argument implied in Hott's request, and hands him his sword; but he says, "This sword can only be borne by a man who is both brave and daring." Hott answers, "You shall be convinced that I am such a man." He then goes up to the beast and knocks it over. But a beast that has shown itself to be so terrible on former occasions cannot be alive and yet stand stock still and allow itself to be killed and tumbled over in this manner. It must have been killed before, and now the king strongly suspects that the reason why Bjarki has urged Hott to attack it was that Bjarki, having killed the monster himself, knew that it was dead; and when he is charged with the deed he does not deny it. Thus Bjarki gets the credit for his achievement.
It is true, as Müllenhoff,[77] ten Brink,[78] and Olrik[79] have said, that the main object of the whole story of Bjarki and the dragon is to motivate Hott's newly acquired courage. Bjarki compels Hott to go with him when the dragon is to be attacked; he compels him to eat and drink what will give him strength and courage; he props up the dead dragon in order that, as the sequel shows, Hott may gain the reputation of being what he now really is, a brave man; and while, of the two achievements with which Bjarki is credited, the killing of the dragon is passed over lightly, his having made a brave man of Hott is strongly emphasized. But there can be no doubt that the saga-man planned that Bjarki should get credit for killing the dragon; for Bjarki does get such credit, and it must be presumed that, what the author permits to occur, he planned should occur. It is also natural that more emphasis is laid on his having made a hero of Hott than on his having slain the monster. Now that the beast is dead, the killing of it proved not to be an impossible feat, and Bjarki has shown before, that he possesses the qualities necessary for such a deed. But that he possesses the ability to make a hero out of the miserable, cowardly wretch, Hott, is a revelation of a new and uncommon power. He has not only dispatched the king's most dangerous foe, he has added another brave man to the number of the king's retainers. This naturally attracts the king's particular attention, and he gives Bjarki special credit for the achievement.
But when Bjarki is known to have killed the beast, what becomes of Hott's display of bravery, or even the appearance of bravery? His whole demeanor, from the moment he accedes to Bjarki's request to attack the beast, reveals the change in his nature. But the proof of this change consists, not in knocking over the dragon, but in his ability to wield the sword which the king himself says can "only be borne by a man who is both brave and daring." This must be conclusive proof to the king and to all present. It is not accidental that it is the king's sword that Hott uses and that it is the king himself who makes the remark about it which he does. The king, above all men, must be convinced of Hott's bravery, and in view of the manner in which Hott's bravery is displayed, the king must, indeed, be satisfied with the proof. Thus this purpose of the scene is also accomplished. Nor has the saga-man devised an artificial method of testing strength and courage. It is quite in harmony with folk-lore. That a strength-giving drink enables one to wield a sword that an ordinary mortal cannot handle, is a motive employed in a number of fairy tales. It occurs, for instance, in Soria Moria Castle, one of the best known Norse fairy tales. It is told that Halvor, a typical good-for-nothing fellow and groveler-in-the-ashes, has arrived at a castle inhabited by a princess and a three-headed troll. The princess warns Halvor to beware of the monster, but he decides to await the troll's arrival. Halvor is hungry and asks for meat to eat. "When Halvor had eaten his fill, the princess told him to try if he could brandish the sword that hung against the wall; no, he couldn't brandish it—he couldn't even lift it up. 'Oh,' said the princess, 'now you must go and take a pull of that flask that hangs by its side; that's what the troll does every time he goes out to use the sword.' So Halvor took a pull, and in a twinkling of an eye he could brandish the sword like anything".[80] It is apparent, therefore, that the saga-man intend Hott's ability to wield the king's sword to constitute the proof of his bravery. Thus the author's third purpose is accomplished, and the king rewards Hott, not in spite of the deception that been practiced and revealed, but on account of his bravery, which been proved.[81]
In Saxon, Hjalti has no other name than "Hialto." In the Hrólfssaga he first has the name "Hott" and this is changed to "Hjalti." The appropriate time for changing it is, as has been said, when his change of nature becomes apparent; and his new name is most fittingly derived from the deed by which he manifests that he has become a different man from what he was. "Hjalti" means "hilt"; hence, he must get his name from a hilt; but it should come from the hilt of a sword connected with his display of courage, and this is the king's sword. It is a fine conception that, as Hjalti gets his new name from his ability to wield the wonderful sword of the king, his name is a constant reminder of his bravery. But the name of the king's sword is Skofnung; hence, as the word has no suggestion of "hilt" in it, it is not available in this connection. The form "hjalti" must appear in some way to suggest the name; and since the name is to come from the king's sword the word "hjalti" must be used in connection with it. But what kind of hilt would the king's sword naturally have? A golden hilt, of course. So far as the words are concerned, "iron hilt," "brass hilt," or "silver hilt" would have served the purpose just as well, had it been appropriate to use any of these terms. But the king's sword must have a golden hilt. Hence, Hott says to the king, "Give me your sword Gullinhjalti, which you are bearing, and I will kill the beast." And after the king is convinced of Hott's bravery he says, "And now I wish him called Hott no longer, he shall from this day be named Hjalti,—thou shalt be called after the sword Gullinhjalti." Thus Hjalti gets his name from the king's sword; and this, again, is proof that it is by wielding the king's sword that Hjalti displays his courage. That "Gullinhjalti" is written as one word and capitalized may be a late development and signify no more than the modern treatment by some writers of "gylden hilt" (i.e., writing it "Gyldenhilt") in Beowulf. Even if we assume that the original author of the word intended "Gullinhjalti" as a proper noun and the name of the king's sword, it does not necessarily conflict with the idea that the name of the king's sword is Skofnung. "Gullinhjalti" would then be a by-name, a pet-name, for Skofnung, derived from its golden hilt. It can hardly be presumed that when the saga-man in this connection calls the king's sword "Gullinhjalti," he has for the moment forgotten that the name of Hrolf's famous sword is Skofnung. Nor is it in conflict with the description of Skofnung that Gullinhjalti is given a supernatural quality. Skofnung also has a supernatural quality. It is Skofnung's nature to utter a loud sound whenever it reaches the bone.[82]
That two swords in two widely separated compositions are identical requires more proof than that the term "golden hilt" is used in connection with both of them; and in the two compositions in question there is nothing else than this term, and the peculiarity of the one sword that it can be wielded only by a man of unusual strength, of the other that it can be wielded only by a brave man, on which to base an identity. The fact of the matter is that it is the requirement of the plot that has supplied both the name and the unusual quality of the sword Gullinhjalti in the Hrólfssaga. Other requirements would have produced other results.
But since such stress has been laid on the similarity between "gylden hilt" (Beowulf) and "Gullinhjalti" (Hrólfssaga) in the attempt to identify Bothvar Bjarki with Beowulf, let us turn our attention, before proceeding further, to the portion of Beowulf where the term "gylden hilt" occurs.
The text shows clearly that the author of Beowulf did not intend "gylden hilt" as a proper noun. He never uses the word "hilt" in connection with the weapon in question to designate the sword as a whole. "Hilt," both as a simple word and in compounds, is used only to designate the handle of the sword. The following terms are used for the sword as a whole: "bil,"[83] "sweord,"[84] "wǣpen,"[85] "mǣl,"[86] "īrena cyst."[87] The word "hilt" is used seven times. Sarrazin says, "Es ist bemerkenswert, dass bei jenem Schwert, auch als es noch vollständig und unversehrt war, regelmässig die hilze, der griff (hilt), hervorgehoben wurde (ll. 1563, 1574, 1614, 1668, 1677, 1687, 1698)."[88] But the statements, "Hē gefēīng þā fetel-hilt,"[89] "Wǣpen hafenade heard be hiltum,"[90] contain the only two instances in which the hilt is mentioned before the blade melted. It is quite natural for the author to say, "He then seized the belted hilt," "The strong man raised the sword by the hilt"; for the hilt is the part of the weapon that is intended to be held in the hand when a sword is to be used. It is hardly correct to say that the hilt is here emphasized.
"Ne nōm hē īn þǣm wīcum, Weder-Gēata lēod, māðm-ǣhta mā, þēh hē þǣr monige geseah, būton þone hafelan ond þā hilt somod, since fāge; sweord ǣr gemealt."[91]
"Hilt" does not here mean "sword," because "sweord ǣr gemealt" and nothing but the hilt was left to be taken away. The same applies to "hilt" in the statement, "Ic þæt hilt þanan fēondum ætferede."[92]
"Þā wæs gylden hilt gamelum rince, hārum hild-fruman, on hand gyfen, enta ǣr-geweorc."[93]
In this passage, "hilt" cannot refer to the whole sword, because the blade had melted; only the hilt remained. To say that the hilt was given to the king, was proper, for (making allowance, of course, for the fictional nature of the whole story) it was literally true; but to say that "Gyldenhilt" (the sword) was given to the king, would not be proper, because the principal part of the sword had disappeared. The word "gylden" is used in this passage apparently for two reasons: 1. that the hilt is of gold renders it more appropriate as a gift, to the king; 2. "gylden" alliterates with "gamelum."
The hilt was remarkable for other qualities than that it was of gold.
"Hroðgār maðelode, hylt scēawode, ealde lāfe, on ðǣm wæs ōr writen fyrn-gewinnes, syðþan flōd ofslōh, gifen gēotende, gīganta cyn; frēcne gefērdon; þæt wæs fremde þēod ēcean Dryhtne; him þæs ende-lēan þurh wæteres wylm Waldend sealde. Swā wæs on ðǣm scennum scīran goldes þurh rūn-stafas rihte gemearcod, geseted ond gesæd, hwām þæt sweord geworht, īrena cyst, ǣrest wǣre, wreoþen-hilt ond wyrm-fāh."[94]
"Hylt"[95] cannot mean the whole sword, since Hrothgar could look at only what was left of the sword. That was the "gylden hilt," which he held in his hand; and the expression "hylt scēawode" leaves no doubt that "gylden hilt" is not a designation of the whole sword. "Wreoþen-hilt"[96] also obviously refers only to the hilt.
In no instance, therefore, in this connection, does the author of Beowulf use "hilt" to designate the whole sword; consequently, to write "gylden hilt" as one word and capitalize it is both arbitrary and illogical. There is, in fact, nothing in the poem to indicate that the sword had a name.
Furthermore, the author refers to other swords that were distinguished by being ornamented with gold. When Beowulf left the land of the Danes, it is said,
"Hē þǣm bāt-wearde bunden golde
swurd gesealde."[97]
And when Beowulf returned to the land of the Geats and presented to
Hygelac and Hygd the gifts he had received from Hrothgar,
"Hēt ðā eorla hlēo in gefetian, heaðo-rōf cyning, Hrēðles lāfe golde gegyrede; næs mid Gēatum ðā sinc-māðþum sēlra on sweordes hād; þæt hē on Bīowulfes bearm ālegde."[98]
It is not said that either of these swords had a golden hilt; but it is plain that it was not unusual to represent a sword that possessed excellent qualities as being ornamented with gold, and the hilt is the part of the sword that naturally lends itself to ornamentation. Other examples of richly ornamented swords are King Arthur's sword, Excalibur, whose "pommel and haft were all of precious stones";[99] Roland's sword, Durendal, which had a golden hilt;[100] and the sword of Frothi II, which also had a golden hilt.[101]
The fact, therefore, that, both in regard to the giant-sword in Beowulf and King Hrolf's sword in the saga, the hilt is said to be golden proves nothing as to the identity of these two swords.
And when, both in the term "gylden hilt" and in the word "Gullinhjalti," the hilt of the sword is made prominent, it is due, in the one instance, to the fact that nothing but the hilt remains; in the other, to the fact that the word "hjalti" is just the word that the author must have in order to explain the origin of Hjalti's name.
A little more ought to be said about the propping-up of the dragon. That it served an excellent purpose is evident. It provided the occasion for Hjalti's asking for the king's sword, in the use of which he displayed his courage and from which he received his new name. Furthermore, Bjarki's interest in having Hott attack the beast and display his courage indicated that he knew that the beast was dead and that he had a special interest in having Hott recognized as a brave man. This, again, indicated that Bjarki had himself killed the beast and been the cause of the change in Hott's nature, for both of which he receives due credit. But it may be asked, when Bjarki propped the dead beast up, how could he know that events would take the turn they did? He could not know it. He relied on his resourcefulness to handle the situation, a resourcefulness on which he had drawn with success before. He was on hand in the morning to take note of developments, and we can imagine several possibilities that he might have had in mind. Had the king proposed that no risk should be taken with the beast, Bjarki could have requested and secured permission to attack it, taking Hott with him. Had the king himself proposed to attack the beast, or had he proposed that his warriors should attack it in a body, Bjarki could have said, "No, the king must not expose himself," or, "The king must not expose so many of his men at once; let me go." To which the king could have assented, whereupon Bjarki could have taken Hott with him and let Hott, at the last, proceed against the beast alone and knock it over. One can imagine other possibilities, which it is not necessary to enumerate here. To be sure, none of them would be so fortunate as the one represented as having occurred; but they would have enabled Hott to gain the reputation of being a brave man, and that is all Bjarki contemplated. That all turned out more fortunately than Bjarki had foreseen or even intended, enhances the interest of the story and illustrates the skill of the narrator, who chose to represent, as he had a right to do, that particular possibility as having actually occurred that produced the most satisfactory results. That Bjarki had no thought of credit for himself, redounds, in the estimation of the reader all the more to his credit; and it is a fitting reward that he gets full credit for all that he has done.
It seems, then, that Bjarki intended to deceive the king. He undoubtedly did; but the deception was not intended to mislead the king. Hott was brave and strong, and Bjarki knew it; and even if Hott's strength and bravery should gain recognition through the employment of a ruse that involved no real test, no harm would be done. The author, however, planned that all should turn out otherwise. The reader will also remember the deception practiced by the shepherd boy in the story from Jón Arnason's collection.[102] The boy, who is there the hero of the story, as is Bjarki in the Hrólfssaga, is represented as deceiving his master, but likewise without doing him appreciable harm, and furthermore without raising reflections on the part of the author as to the rectitude of his conduct.
Panzer says that Hott's explanation that the repeated breaking-in of the monster is due to the fact that the king's best men do not return home at that time of the year is a strange explanation.[103] But in regard to Hott's statement a distinction must be made between fact and opinion. It is a fact, as the saga immediately afterwards shows, that the king's berserks are not at home; but it is only Hott's opinion that, if they were at home, they would be able to put an end to the depredations of the monster. It was quite natural, however, that he should think so; for to such an abject coward as he was, it must have seemed that nothing could resist such warriors as these berserks were. That they were not at home was due to the fact that they were on one of their regular expeditions. But why they had not been retained at home to cope with the dragon is not explained. The first time it appeared, it came entirely unexpected. The next year there may have been a question as to whether it would appear or not. The third year it was definitely expected. It seems, therefore, that preparations would have been made to resist it; and when the berserks are not retained at home to cope with the monster, it is due to the exigencies of the story. The berserks might have been retained at home to cope unsuccessfully with the monster, or avoid coping with it at all as the king's other men did, and thus place Bjarki's feat of slaying it in the strongest relief. But by letting the berserks be absent at Christmas and return later, the author accomplished more than this. Bjarki slew the monster, which, in any treatment of the story, he must be represented as doing. He seized one of the berserks, who demanded that Bjarki recognize him as his superior as a warrior, and threw him down with great violence. This was a more spectacular method of showing superiority to the berserks than merely doing what they dared not attempt to do, or could not do. But it is especially in the treatment of Hott, that skillful manipulation of the story is displayed in having the berserks return home and resume their boastful manner, after Hott has become strong and daring. Compared with the king's best warriors it is still a question as to how strong and brave Hott now is. The question is answered when he is requested to admit his inferiority to the berserks; for he seizes the one who confronts him and treats him as Bjarki is treating one of the others. Thus, in the presence of King Hrolf and the court, Hott displays his superiority to the doughtiest of the king's famous warriors. Finally, poetic justice is also achieved, for the very men who had made fun of Hott and thrown bones at him are now compelled to recognize that he is the master of them all.
Panzer sees a deeper meaning, than evidently is intended, in the statement that, as Bjarki was about to attack the dragon, his sword stuck fast in the scabbard.[104] There is no reason, however, for regarding it as anything more than a melodramatic incident characteristic of medieval romances. It reminds one of the following statement by Wilbur L. Cross, which, with the omission of the reference to "giants" and "Merlin," characterizes the Hrólfssaga quite accurately and shows how it harmonizes with the spirit of medieval literature of its kind, "It is true that they [i.e., the Arthurian romances] sought to interest, and did interest, by a free employment of the marvellous, fierce encounters of knights, fights with giants and dragons, swords that would not out of their scabbards, and the enchantments of Merlin".[105]
The Stories in the BJARKARÍMUR of Bjarki's Slaying the Wolf and Hjalti's Slaying the Bear.
But what is the relation of this story to the corresponding stories in the Bjarkarímur? The stories in the rímur are as follows:—
"Flestir ọmuðu Hetti heldr, hann var ekki í máli sneldr, einn dag fóru þeir út af họll, svó ekki vissi hirðin ọll.
Hjalti talar er felmtinn fær,
'fọrum við ekki skógi nær,
hér er sú ylgr sem etr upp menn,
okkr drepr hún báða senn.'
Ylgrin hljóp úr einum runn,
ógurlig með gapanda munn,
họrmuligt varð Hjalta viðr,
á honum skalf bæði leggr og liðr.
Ótæpt Bjarki að henni gengr,
ekki dvelr hann við það lengr,
họggur svó að í hamri stód,
hljóp úr henni ferligt blóð.
'Kjóstu Hjalti um kosti tvó,
kappinn Bọðvar talaði svó,
drekk nú blóð eða drep eg þig hér,
dugrinn líz mér engi í þér.'
Ansar Hjalti af ærnum móð,
'ekki þori eg að drekka blóð,
nýtir flest ef nauðigr skal,
nú er ekki á betra val.'
Hjalti gjọrir sem Bọðvar biðr,
að blóði frá eg hann lagðist niðr,
drekkur síðan drykki þrjá,
duga mun honum við einn að rjá.
Hugrinn óx en miklast máttr,
minst var honum í litlu dráttr,
raunmjọg sterkr og ramr sem trọll,
rifnuðu af honum klæðin ọll.
Svó er hann orðinn harðr i hug,
hann hræðist ekki járna flug,
burtu er nú bleyðinafn,
Bọðvari var hann að hreysti jafn." (IV, 58-66).
"Hann hefr fengið hjartað snjalt
af họrðum móði,
fekk hann huginn og aflið alt
af ylgjar blóði.
Í grindur vandist grábjọrn einn
í garðinn Hleiðar,
var sá margur vargrinn beinn
og víða sveiðar.
Bjarka er kent, að hjarðarhunda
hafi harm drepna,
ekki er hónum allvel hent
við ýta kepna.
Hrólfur býst og hirð hans ọll
að húna stýri,
sá skal mestr í minni họll
er mætir dýri.
Beljandi hljóp bjọrninn framm
úr bóli krukku,
veifar sínum vónda hramm,
svó virðar hrukku.
Hjalti sér og horfir þá á,
er hafin er róma,
hafði hann ekki í họndum þá
nema hnefana tóma.
Hrólfur fleygði að Hjalta þá
þeim hildar vendi,
kappinn móti krummu brá
og klótið hendi.
Lagði hann síðan bjọrninn brátt
við bóginn hægra,
bessi fell í brúðar átt
og bar sig lægra.
Vann hann það til frægða fyst
og fleira síðar,
hans var lundin lọngum byst
í leiki gríðar.
Hér með fekk hann Hjalta nafn
hins hjartaprúða,
Bjarki var eigi betri en jafn
við býti skrúða." (V, 4-13).[106]
These stories seem, indeed, at first sight more rational than the story in the saga, and have features more in harmony with the account in Saxo; but this does not prove that they are earlier than the version in the saga. In the first place, by introducing two animals, where the other versions have only one, the author of the rímur has broken the unity of the story, a feature in which the story in the Hrólfssaga remains intact and as a consequence is nearer to the primitive form of the story as we find it in Saxo. In the second place, the author of the rímur made precisely the changes that were necessary to remove the most irrational features of the story as we find it in the Hrólfssaga. The troll-dragon, which is an unusual creature, has been supplanted by the more conventional creatures, a wolf and a bear; and by the employment of two animals, the necessity of causing a dead animal to be propped up and be apparently killed again, is avoided. Consistency in the treatment of Bjarki as the descendant of a bear is also observed to the extent that he is said to kill a wolf, not a bear; but this consistency has begun to fade and suffer to the extent that Bjarki accompanies Hrolf on a bear hunt. It is probable, however, that consistency in the treatment of Bjarki in this respect is not contemplated, but that when he is said to kill a wolf it is only that the larger and more dangerous animal may be reserved as the one on which Hjalti is to show his strength and courage and in order that an animal worthy of the king's attention may be reserved for the royal hunt. To eat wolf meat in order to gain strength has just as good warrant in Old Norse literature as to drink the blood of a bear;[107] this, in so far, justifies the introduction in the rímur of the wolf. But when Hjalti is made to drink the blood of the wolf, it seems to be another instance of the author's keeping in mind the version of the story in the Hrólfssaga, where Hjalti drinks the blood of the dragon. It is not necessary to go to Saxo's version for this.
It is said in the rímur, "One day they (Bjarki and Hjalti) went out of the hall, so that the king's men did not know of it." Why did they go out of the hall so that the king's men did not know of it? No reason is assigned; the deed is unmotivated. It seems to be a mere harking back to the statement in the Hrólfssaga,[108] that the two men left the hall secretly. But in the saga there is a reason for their leaving the hall secretly; the king has forbidden his men to leave the hall and expose themselves to attack. That, in the rímur, the men are said to leave the hall in the daytime, instead of at night, is a consequence of the substitution of the wolf for the troll-dragon; a wolf is usually hunted in the daytime. It might be surmised that their going out secretly is in imitation of the story as Saxo knew it. But this is not the case; Saxo does not say that Bjarki and Hjalti went out secretly.[109] The weakness of this feature of the story in the rímur has been observed by Panzer, who believes, nevertheless, that the rímur represent an earlier form of the story than the one in the saga. He says, "Zweifeln möchte man nur, ob das Motiv des heimlichen Auszugs der beiden nicht in den Rímur fälschlich in den ersten Kampf gesetzt ist, wo es ganz unbegründet steht, statt in den zweiten, wo es allein motiviert erscheint."[110] But this is not the correct explanation. The author of the rímur for some reason, such as a wish to rationalize the story, but which, however, we can only surmise, decided to make radical changes in it. In the first instance he substitutes a wolf for the dragon, but otherwise, considering the material he is going to use in the story of the fight with the bear, retains as much as he can of the story as it is in the saga. Thus the idea of Bjarki's and Hjalti's going out secretly is retained, but without motivation; and if we did not have the story in the saga for comparison, perhaps this deficiency would not have been noticed. Even as it is, Panzer is the only one who has called attention to it.
Referring to the story as Saxo has it, Müllenhoff,[111] ten Brink,[112] Olrik,[113] and Deutschbein[114] speak of Bjarki's going on a hunt. This is hardly correct and requires a little attention, for, if, in Saxo's version, Bjarki went on a hunt, the account given by Saxo is nearer to the first story in the rímur than if he did not. But Saxo does not say that Bjarki went on a hunt. He says: "Talibus operum meritis exultanti nouam de se siluestris fera uictoriam prebuit. Vrsum quippe eximie magnitudinis obuium sibi inter dumeta factum iaculo confecit, comitemque suum Ialtonem, quo uiribus maior euaderet, applicato ore egestum belue cruorem haurire iussit. Creditum namque erat, hoc pocionis genere corporei roboris incrementa prestari."[115] The circumstances immediately preceding the slaying of the bear were such, that it is highly improbable that, at that particular time, he would go on a hunt. It will be remembered that there was to be a wedding in the royal residence; that Agnar was to marry the king's sister; that Agnar took offense at Bjarki's manner of defending Hjalti, whereupon a fight ensued and Bjarki killed Agnar and his warriors. But if Bjarki did not go on a hunt for the bear, how did he come to meet it, and in a thicket at that? The lack of more details, the lack of motivation for going on a hunt in the midst of, or immediately following, the stirring events just mentioned, and utter lack of connection with what precedes, show that Saxo, who, with this story, begins to set the stage, so to speak, for the last grand act of King Hrolf's life, concluded to insert it at this juncture as the most appropriate and effective place he had for it, and then, to add a touch of realism and supply a retreat where the bear would be unobserved by the men, and unwarned of their approach, until they were close upon it, said that Bjarki met it in a thicket. The idea of supplying a motive and observing such consistency as we find in connection with the corresponding story in the Hrólfssaga never occurred to him. The author of the rímur may have known of the version of the story familiar to Saxo, though it is not probable; but the point here is, that he is not following this version when he represents Bjarki as having slain an animal for which he has presumably (though the rímur do not make the matter clear) gone on a hunt.
The author was under no more obligation than Saxo was, to say that Bjarki and Hjalti went out secretly, and the idea is not contained in Saxo's account. But the author of the rímur, observing what pains the author of the saga took to motivate the going out secretly, felt that this feature of the story was so important that it must be retained, and so he retained it without motivation.
In Saxo, Hjalti shows no fear when the bear is met, and he does not refuse to drink the animal's blood. But in the rímur there is the same kind of fear as in the saga. In the saga, however, the author has found an excellent setting for Hjalti's fear; it is beyond improvement; while the ferocity of the man-eating wolf, in the rímur, is stretched to the utmost limit, in order to preserve the spirit of the heroic. Furthermore, when Hjalti had drunk of the blood of the wolf, he had courage "enough for fighting with one man." How did the author know that he had just courage "enough for fighting with one man"? According to the next statement, namely "his courage increased, his strength waxed, he became very strong, mighty as a troll, all his clothes burst open," he seemed, in fact, to have gained strength enough for fighting with several men. Again, "he was equal to Bothvar in courage." How did the author know it? He knew it from the version of the story in the saga, where it is said that Hjalti had wrestled long with Bothvar, and, thus having tried his strength on Bothvar, told him, "nor shall I be afraid of you henceforth." The saga does not say that Hjalti had courage "enough for fighting with one man" or "he was equal to Bothvar in courage." These statements are deductions that the author of the rímur made from the story in the saga, in the light of subsequent events.
In the rímur, it is said that Hjalti "became very strong, mighty as a troll, all his clothes burst open." Why, or whence, this reference to a troll? Another harking back to the Hrólfssaga, another deduction made from the story in the saga. The saga does not say that Hott acquired any of the characteristics of a troll. He is given the desired strength without any reference to the strength of a troll. But when the rímur say that he became "mighty as a troll," it amounts to saying, "Hjalti is no longer represented as having drunk the blood of a troll and eaten some of its heart, as is the case in the Hrólfssaga, but let it be understood, nevertheless, that the strength he has acquired is no less than that of a troll." The troll-dragon has been eliminated, but so great, in the rímur, has the strength of Hjalti become that it now equals that of the very monster, the troll, which, in the saga, he feared to such an extent that it rendered him pitiable in the extreme. Here again the author of the rímur inserted an element that is wholly foreign to his story and unsuggested by it, but that is suggested by the saga, and that he probably never would have thought of, had he not known of the version of the story that is contained in the saga.
Furthermore, the rímur say, "The folds at Hleidargard were attacked by a gray bear; many such beasts were there far and wide thereabout. Bjarki was told that it had killed the herdsmen's dogs; it was not much used to contending with men." This is still another harking back to the Hrólfssaga, and confirms what has been said on pp. 29 ff., that the monster in the saga is a cattle-attacking monster, not a hall-attacking monster. "The folds were attacked," "it had killed the herdsmen's dogs," "it was not much used to contending with men."
The fact that dogs are here said to be killed, but not in the saga, need hardly be mentioned. The idea of dogs is easily associated with that of cattle, especially when, as here, the dogs are "herdsmen's dogs."
Again, we notice the statement in the rímur that "Hrolf tossed to Hjalti his sword." Has he been informed since the slaying of the wolf, that Hjalti is now a courageous man? Perhaps; but nothing is said about it in the rímur. Since Bjarki took pains to go on the wolf hunt secretly, and since we are not informed that what occurred on that hunt has become known or that it has become known that Hjalti is now a courageous man, the presumption is that the king does not know it, and we are surprised at his unmotivated action in treating Hjalti in this unexpected manner. And if Hjalti is now known to be such a hero that Hrolf feels warranted in placing reliance on him to the extent that he tosses him his sword at this critical juncture, why has Hjalti taken part in the hunt with "nothing in his hands"? In the saga it is not said that Hjalti has nothing in his hands; his motive in asking for the king's sword has no connection with whether he has anything in his hands or not.[116] But the author of the rímur, having apparently missed the point in the saga, assumes that, when Hjalti asks for the king's sword, it is because he has no weapon of his own. Hence, without realizing, apparently, the anomalous situation in which he places Hjalti, who is now strong and courageous, he represents him as taking part in the bear hunt empty-handed, though there is no indication that Hjalti thinks that he can cope with the animal without a weapon.
In the Hrólfssaga, it is said that Bjarki killed a dragon by plunging his sword under its shoulder. In the rímur, it is said that Hjalti killed a bear by plunging his sword into its right shoulder. This is another harking back to the Hrólfssaga. Hjalti has now become as courageous as Bjarki; he kills a live animal (instead of knocking over a dead one), and he kills it in just the same way that Bjarki killed the dragon. It can not be assumed that the author of the rímur and the author of the saga employed this manner of dispatching the animal without any knowledge on the part of the one as to what was contained in the account of the other. In fact, it is taken for granted by all writers on the subject that the later account is an altered version of the earlier account. Hence, either this episode in the rímur is modeled after that in the saga, and Hjalti is made to kill the bear in the same way that Bjarki killed the dragon, or the episode in the saga is modeled after that in the rímur, and Bjarki is made to kill the dragon in the same way that Hjalti killed the bear. Is there any doubt as to what has occurred? The former is natural and to be expected, and is probably what has taken place, because: 1. in all the versions of the story Hjalti is represented as having undergone a change that has caused him to become very much like Bjarki—"equal to Bjarki," as it is stated in the rímur, where he is represented as having killed a ferocious beast in the same manner that Bjarki, in the saga, killed a winged monster; 2. it was not unusual to represent dragons as having been killed by being pierced under the shoulder,[117] since a dragon had to be pierced where its scales did not prevent the entrance of a weapon into its body; 3. since there is no special reason why a bear, which is vulnerable in all parts of the body, should be represented as being pierced through the shoulder, the manner in which Hjalti is said to have killed the bear is evidently another unmotivated incident in the rímur that is imitated from a motivated incident in the saga.
What the author of the rímur has done to give the story the form in which we find it in his composition is quite plain. He noticed that, as the monster in the saga attacked the folds at Hleidargard, the situation was very much like that at the beginning of the story about Bothvar in the saga, where a bear is said to have attacked the cattle of King Hring, Bothvar's father.[118] But a bear is a real, not an imaginary, animal, and King Hring took a creditable part in the effort to dispatch it. Hence, this story was substituted for the story about the troll-dragon and adapted to the circumstances, King Hrolf himself taking the lead in the hunt and thus acting in a manner that seemed more to his credit than the way he acted in regard to the monster in the saga.
This story, namely that the man whose cattle have been killed by a bear goes with his men and hunts it down and kills it, is the same that we have in connection with the early life both of Ulf and of Bjarki, where the bear is represented as being the great-grandfather of the former, but the father of the latter. The bear-ancestor feature was not applicable in the connection in which the story is used in the rímur; hence, it was omitted. Now, did this story spring up spontaneously and independently in all these three instances? No, Bjarki and Ulf got their reputed ancestry from the Siward story; and this bear hunt story they got from a common source through contact with each other, or Bjarki got it from Ulf. The author of the rímur, liking it better than the last part of the dragon story in the saga, as most modern readers also have done, took it from the version contained in the saga of the early life of Bjarki and used it for letting Hjalti display his courage. As a result, he modified the story where it applies to the early life of Bjarki. He has two sets of three sons each, while the saga has only one set; and, what is still more suspicious, there is a Bothvar in each set. This is the same kind of separation or repetition as the rímur later make with regard to the dragon story, dividing it into a wolf story and a bear story. Again, as Finnur Jónsson, summarizing the account in the rímur of the death of Bjarki's father, says, "Björn forfölges, flygter ud i et skær og dræbes der af jarlens mænd på et skib (en stærk afvigelse fra sagaen)."[119] This divergence was plainly introduced to make the story different from the story that, in substance, was replaced and that was transferred to where Hjalti displays his courage. In the saga, Bjarki's mother is called Bera (she-bear),[120] not Hildr, as in the rímur; and that the name Bera is the earlier of the two there can be no doubt.
Furthermore, we find in the rímur another of the characteristic traces that the author left when he tampered with the dragon story. In the saga, in connection with Bjarki's early life, it is said that when the bear was hunted, it killed all the dogs, but was itself soon after killed by the men. From this the author concluded that it was death on dogs, but could not contend successfully with men. Hence, he says, "Bjarki was told that it had killed the herdsmen's dogs;[121] it was not much used to contending with men." This statement must, therefore, mean, if it means anything, that the bear was not really dangerous to men or, at any rate, not as dangerous as one would naturally suppose. Hjalti must have known this as well as Bjarki, for it was probably he who gave Bjarki the information about the beast, as he did in the corresponding situation in the saga and in the story of the slaying of the wolf. If this was the case, the bravery that Hjalti displays in attacking the animal suffers considerably. The statement reminds us of the situation in the Hrólfssaga. Just as Hjalti knocked over a dragon that was not dangerous because it was dead, so, in the rímur, he dispatched a bear that was not particularly dangerous because "it was not much used to contending with men." In the former instance, however, the feat was not the real test of his courage; in the latter instance, it was.
In the saga, Bjarki knew that the dragon was harmless, because he had killed it; and his knowledge of its harmlessness is vital to the latter part of the dragon story. In the rímur, he is informed that the bear is not so dangerous as one would suppose. But his knowledge of this circumstance has no bearing on the story whatever; everything would have proceeded just as it did if he had been without this information. But in spite of the fact that the bear "was not much used to contending with men," "the men fled" when it "ran from its lair and shook its baleful paws." The author is evidently trying to ride two steeds going in different directions. On the one hand, he has in mind the story of the bear with which Bjarki's father was identified and which was killed by the king's men, and the story of the dead propped-up dragon, which was, of course, not dangerous; on the other hand, he wishes to represent Hjalti's feat of killing the bear, which, in the rímur, the king's men avoided, as, in the saga, they avoided the dragon, as a notable achievement.
Finally, "Hrolf and all his men" took part in the hunt; but, as already stated, when the bear appeared, "the men fled." The statement, "the men fled;" introduces a feature that is wanting in the account in the Hrólfssaga of how Bjarki's father, who had been transformed into a bear by his stepmother, was hunted down and killed. It reminds us of the situation in the saga where King Hrolf and his men avoid the winged monster by remaining indoors when it is expected. In the saga, Bjarki, of course, did not avoid the monster; but whether, in the rímur, the king fled is uncertain. He was, in any event, near enough to Hjalti to toss Hjalti his sword. Bjarki, however, must have fled; and while that would be strange under any circumstances, it would be particularly strange in the present instance, since he knew that the bear "was not much used to contending with men."
Considering the dragon story in the saga and the corresponding stories in the rímur, it is apparent that there is no comparison between them as regards skill in composition; and that, while the stories in the rímur throw no light on the story in the saga, the full significance of the rímur stories appears only when they are read in the light of the story in the saga. Therefore, when Finnur Jónsson says, "Spörger vi om, hvad der er oprindeligst, er der i og for sig næppe tvivl om, at rimerne her har af ét dyr gjort to (ulvinden og gråbjörnen), så at sagaen på dette punkt må antages at have bedre bevaret det ægte," he is undoubtedly right; but when he continues, "Dette bestyrkes kraftig ved, at dette hallen hjemsögende uhyre intet andet er end et om end ændret og afbleget minde om Grendel i Bjovulf,"[122] he is, as the evidence also shows, undoubtedly wrong.
The fact of the matter is that the account in the rímur of the killing of the bear, though brief, is so confused and indefinite that it does not bear analysis; and this is further evidence of the fact that the author of the rímur clumsily re-worked material that he found in the Hrólfssaga version of Bjarki's career, and for the dragon story, which is a good story, substituted two poor ones, namely the wolf story and the bear story.
But the troll-dragon having been eliminated and the bear story selected as the one to be used in connection with Hjalti's display of his newly acquired bravery, for which purpose it is, indeed, on account of the presence of the king and his court, more appropriate than for giving Hjalti an opportunity to imbibe secretly an animal's blood, another story had to be devised to account for Hjalti's strength and courage. The wolf was the next fiercest animal available that the author could think of. He therefore invented a wolf story and placed it first; and, as the examination of it has shown,[123] a late and very poor invention it was, bearing manifest traces of the influence of the dragon story in the saga.
Conclusion.
The principal results attained in the foregoing consideration of the dragon story in the Hrólfssaga and the corresponding stories in the Bjarkarímur may be stated briefly as follows:—
1. The story in Saxo is the earliest story we have of the slaying of an animal by Bjarki in order that Hjalti may drink its blood and acquire strength and courage.
2. Bjarki having acquired a reputed bear-ancestry from the fictitious story about Siward, the saga consistently takes this into account and substitutes a dragon, also acquired from the story about Siward, for the bear, which, in Saxo's version, is the kind of animal that Bjarki slays.
3. To motivate Bjarki's going forth secretly to slay the monster at night, a well defined type of Christmas-troll story is employed and the dragon is given the nature of a troll that comes on Christmas Eve and attacks the cattle of the king, who, on account of the terrible nature of the monster, commands his men to stay in the house the night it is expected.
4. That Bjarki may be given credit a) for slaying the monster and b) for making a brave man of the coward Hott, and that c) Hott's change of nature may become apparent and d) a suitable opportunity and plausible reason may be devised for changing his name to Hjalti, the dead dragon is propped up and, in connection with the discovery of the ruse, the story is manipulated so that the saga-man realizes his fourfold purpose.
5. It is highly improbable that the sword-name "Gullinhjalti" in the saga is connected with the words "gylden hilt" in Beowulf. The use of the word "Gullinhjalti" in the saga is not arbitrary or artificial, but a logical result of the situation; and, as the discussion of the matter has shown, the attempt to identify Gullinhjalti with the giant-sword in Beowulf is based on a mere superficial similarity, in which a substantial foundation is altogether lacking.
6. The Bjarkarímur are a later composition than the Hrólfssaga.[124] The author of the rímur has discarded the story of the troll-dragon, has substituted for it the story of the bear hunt connected with the account of Bjarki's early life, has invented a new story about Bjarki's early life, and has invented the story about the wolf hunt to give an opportunity for the introduction of the blood-drinking episode. In the stories of the wolf hunt and the bear hunt, the rímur contain several unmotivated statements that are plainly based on the story as we have it in the saga; and, on the whole, the two stories in the rímur represent such decidedly poor workmanship in the art of narration that recourse must be had to the story in the saga for a realization of the significance of some of the incidents contained in the rímur. The rímur must therefore be left entirely out of account in any attempt to identify Bjarki with Beowulf, or in attempting to connect Bjarki's deeds with those of other heroes, as, for instance, that of Hereward in Gesta Herwardi.[125]
In regard to some particulars, these conclusions differ from the conclusions at which others have arrived; in regard to others, they agree with them. This, however, is a mere matter of chance; for, where some have affirmed and others have denied, it is impossible to avoid agreeing with one party or the other, whatever conclusion an investigation may lead to. Nor should there be any desire to strive for what is new, merely for its own sake. The merit of the foregoing discussion, if it has any, lies in the explanation of the story about Bjarki and the dragon in the Hrólfssaga and the explanation of the relation between this story and the corresponding stories in the Bjarkarímur. This explanation is new, and the writer believes that he has given sufficient reasons to prove that it is correct. If it is correct, it shows that the stories in the rímur are less admirable compositions than they are usually held to be; it shows that the dragon story in the saga is a better composition than it is usually taken to be; and, finally, it establishes the fact that the dragon story in the Hrólfssaga has no connection whatever with the Grendel story or the dragon story in Beowulf.[126]
II
FRÓÐAÞÁTTR
The first appearance of Hroar (Hrothgar) in literature is in Widsith and Beowulf, where we become acquainted with him as the famous King of the Danes. Helgi (Halga) appears first in Beowulf, where he is scarcely more than mentioned. Hroar and Helgi belong to the most famous group of ancient kings in Denmark and appear repeatedly in old Scandinavian literature. The account of them in the Fróðaþáttr which introduces the Hrólfssaga, is, briefly summarized, as follows.
Halfdan and Frothi were brothers, the sons of a king, and each was the ruler of a kingdom. Halfdan had two sons, Hroar and Helgi, and a daughter, Signy, the oldest of the three children, who was married to Earl Sævil while her brothers were still young. The boys' foster-father was Regin. Near Halfdan's capital was a wooded island, on which lived an old man, Vifil, a friend of Halfdan. Vifil had two dogs, called Hopp and Ho, and was skilled in soothsaying.
Frothi, envying his brother the crown of Denmark, attacked his capital with a large army, reduced it to ashes, and took Halfdan captive and put him to death. Regin took his foster-sons, Hroar and Helgi, to the island and placed them in the care of Vifil, in order that they might not fall into the hands of Frothi. Vifil took them to a cave (earth-hut), where they usually stayed at night; but in the daytime they sported in the grove. Frothi made every effort to locate them and make away with them, calling in witches and wise men from all over the land to tell him where they were, but in vain. Then he called in soothsayers, who told him the boys were not on the mainland, nor far from the court. The king mentioned Vifil's island, and they told him to look for the boys there. Twice he sent men to search for them, but the men failed to find them. Then the king went himself. Vifil, who knew the king was coming, met him on the strand as if by chance, pretending to be looking after his sheep; and when the king bade his men seize Vifil, the old man said, "Do not detain me, or the wolves will destroy my sheep," and cried out, "Hopp and Ho, guard my sheep." The king asked him to whom he was calling; he said, to his dogs. But he had told the boys before, that, when he called out the names of his dogs, they should hide in the cave. The king failed to find the boys and returned; but Vifil told the boys that it was not safe for them to remain on the island and sent them to their brother-in-law, Sævil, saying that they would some day be famous, unless, perchance, something prevented it.
Hroar was now twelve years old and Helgi ten. The boys returned to Sævil, but, calling themselves Hrani and Hamur, did not tell him who they were; and as they always wore masks, their identity remained unknown to him.
Frothi invited Sævil to a feast. Hroar and Helgi expressed a wish to join him; but Sævil commanded them to remain at home. Nevertheless, when Sævil and his retinue had started off, Helgi got an untamed colt, and mounting it with his face toward the horse's tail, set out, acting all the while very foolishly. Hroar also mounted a colt, and joined him; and the two overtook the company. They galloped back and forth beside Sævil's retinue, until finally Helgi's mask fell off, and then Signy recognized him. She began to weep, and when Sævil asked her the cause of her distress, she informed him of her discovery. Sævil tried to get the boys to return home; but, though they now were on foot and remained in the rear, they persisted in accompanying him on his visit to Frothi.
When they arrived at Frothi's, Frothi began to hunt for the boys, and bade a witch, who had come to the hall, to try her skill in finding them. She told him that they were in the hall. Then Signy threw her a gold ring, and the witch said that what she had just stated was false. Frothi threatened to torture her if she did not tell the truth; and she said that unless he soon prevented it, which he would not do, the boys would be his death. But the boys, terrified, fled to the wood. The king ordered his men to seize them; but Regin put out the lights in the hall, and, in the confusion that followed, those who were friendly to the boys used the opportunity to obstruct those who would pursue them. Frothi vowed that he would take vengeance at a more suitable time on those who had assisted the boys, but added, "Let us now drink and feast"; and this they did till the men lay in a drunken stupor in a heap on the floor.
Regin rode out to where the boy's were, but would not return their salutation. In fact, he pretended to be angry. They wondered what this meant, and followed him. Helgi thought that Regin wanted to help them, but without violating his oath to the king. Then Regin said to himself, so that the boys heard it, "If I had a matter to settle with the king, I would burn this grove." They took the hint and started a fire. Sævil came out with all his men and bade them aid the boys, and Regin took measures to get all his men and relatives out of the hall. The king awoke from a dream, in which the goddess of the nether world was summoning him. He discovered the fire, and learning who had set it, offered the boys peace on their own terms; but terms of peace were denied. Frothi then retired from the door of the hall, hoping to escape by an underground passage; but at the entrance stood Regin, who blocked his progress, and he returned into the hall and perished in the flames. His wife, Sigrith (now mentioned for the first time), the mother of Hroar and Helgi, refused to leave the hall and perished also.
The boys thanked their brother-in-law, Sævil, and their foster-father, Regin, and all the others who had helped them, and gave the men rich gifts. The boys subdued the whole land and seized the late king's possessions; and for a while the time passed without the occurrence of anything worthy of special mention.
At this time there was a king by the name of Northri, who ruled over a part of England. Hroar often passed long intervals at the court of Northri, supporting him against his enemies and defending his land. Hroar married Ögn, the daughter of Northri, shared the royal power with his father-in-law, and after Northri's death succeeded to the throne of Northumberland. Helgi remained at home, and, by agreement with Hroar, became sole King of Denmark.
In Saxo's seventh book, there is another version of the same story. The features in which it chiefly varies from the version in the Hrólfssaga are as follows.
Halfdan's name has become Harald; Hroar's and Helgi's names have become Harald and Halfdan; Earl Sævil has become Siward, King of Sweden; Signy has become a daughter of Karl, governor of Gautland, and wife of Harald (Frothi's brother). Envy and the quarrelsomeness of Frothi's wife and Harald's wife cause Frothi to engage men to murder Harald. Frothi tries to avoid suspicion of being the author of the crime, but in vain; the people believe he is guilty. When he seeks the boys of the murdered king, to put them out of the way, their foster-parents bind the claws of wolves under the boys' feet and let them run about and fill a neighboring morass and the snow-covered ground with their tracks, whereupon the children of bond-women are put to death and the children's bodies torn to pieces and strewn about. This is done to give the impression that the boys have been torn to pieces by wolves. Then the boys are concealed in a large hollow oak, where food is brought them under the pretence that they are dogs. Dogs' names are also applied to them. The episode with the witch is present, but other men and women with superhuman power are not introduced. The whereabouts of the boys begins to be bruited about, and Ragnar, their foster-father, flees with them to Fyen. He is captured and admits that he has the boys in his protection; but he begs the king not to injure them, calls attention to the foulness of doing them harm, and promises, in case they make any disturbance in the kingdom, to report the matter to the king. Frothi, whose severity Ragnar thus transforms into mildness, spares the boys, and for many years they live in security. When they are grown up, they go to Seeland. Their friends urge them to avenge their father's death, and this they promise to do. Ragnar, when he hears of this, reports it to the king in accordance with his promise, whereupon the king proceeds against them with an army. In desperation, the boys pretend insanity; and, as it is considered shameful to attack people who are insane, the king again spares them. But in the night the boys set fire to his hall, after having stoned the queen to death; and Frothi, having hid himself in a secret underground passage, perishes from the effects of smoke and gas. The boys share the crown, ruling the kingdom by turns.
Before proceeding further, it would be well to have a summary of the relations of the Danish kings concerned, up to the last stage of development, the stage with which we are dealing; and this summary is best supplied by quoting the following from Olrik's _Danmarks Heltedigtning:[127]—
"Der er en fortælling, som bar banet Skjoldungsagnene vej til manges hjærter, i vort århundrede ikke mindre end på selve sagafortællingens tid: sagnene om de to unge kongesönner Hroar og Helge, der må skjule sig for deres faders morder og tronraner, farbroderen Frode, men som efter en række æventyrlige oplevelser på den enlige holm og i selve kongsgården ser lejlighed til at fuldföre hævnen og hæve sig på, tronen. En strålende begyndelse på den navnkundige kongeæts mange skæbner! Det er denne fortællings udspring, vi nu skal söge.
"Tidligst foreligger den i en norsk saga fra 12te årh., der åbner Sakses 7de bog; men smukkest er den islandske Hrólfssaga. Desuden foreligger den kort og krönikeagtig i den islandske Skjọldungasaga, som lader brodermorderen hedde Ingjald og ikke Frode.
"Med disse kilder når vi dog kun til det egenlige sagamands-område, Norge og Island. I Danmark er fortællingen ukendt; og Sakse og Svend Ågesön er enige on den lige modsatte overlevering: det er Halvdan, der slår sin broder Frode eller begge sine brödre ihjel for at vinde herredömmet alene. Det er ikke rimeligt, at den danske overlevering skulde have dels forvansket, dels tabt den mere ægte norske; ti fortællingen om de forfulgte kongesönner er så let at huske som et æventyr og vil vanskelig gå i glemme, naar den först er hört.
"Også den ældste sagnform, Beovulfkvadets, kender kampen om herredömmet imellem Halvdan og Frode; men der er den forskel, at den ene er konge over Danerne, den anden over Had-Barderne, og det er imellem disse to folkestammer, striden udkæmpes. Det synes snarest, som om Frode er falden i kampen (flere forskere opfatter stedet således); i hvert fald tillader sammenhængen næppe, at Halvdan kan være falden imod Frode. For så vidt står denne ældste form nærmest ved den senere danske overlevering, fjærnere fra den norske.
"Som Halvdans broderdrab fortælles hos Sakse og Svend Ågesön, står det lösrevet, vi kan godt sige meningslöst. Det över ingen episk indflydelse på, Skjoldungernes liv, og der rammer heller ikke Halvdan eller hans æt nogen moralsk gengældelse. Med god grund undrer Sakse sig over denne livsskæbne, at den grumme drabsmand kan dö en fredelig död i sin alderdom; ti det er ganske mod heltedigtningens ånd. Forklaringen derpå har vi til dels i den ældre sagnform: broderkampen er opstået af den gamle folkekamp, hvor Had-Barderne lå, under for Danerne; men tillige må der være bristet en episk sammenknytning. I næste slægtled af Skjoldungætten er det et ret gammelt sagnmotiv, at Hrörik overfalder og fælder Hroar; ban har sikkert været opfattet som Frodes sön og hævner, ikke blot i norsk men også i gammel dansk overlevering.
"Den særlig norske form er da bleven til, ved at man vendte broderdrabet om. Det er en sagndannelse af ganske samme art som den, der gjorde Hrörik til Hroars drabsmand; helteætten kom til at stå skyldfri. Det næste trin var at udvikle denne ny situation med Halvdansönnernes fredlöshed og deres faderhævn. Vi har en gammel kilde, der viser, at udviklingen virkelig er gået i disse to trin. Grottesangen slutter med spådom on, at 'Yrsas sön [Rolf] skal hævne Halvdans drab på, Frode.' Da kvadet synes digtet af en Nordmand i 10de årh., har vi i alt fire tidsfæstede udviklingstrin af sagnet:
"1. Danekongen Halvdan kæmper med Hadbardekongen Frode og bar formodenlig fældet ham (Beovulf).
"2. Skjoldungen Halvdan kæmper med sin broder Frode on riget og
fælder ham (danske sagn).
"3. Skjoldungen Frode dræber (sin broder) Halvdan, sönnesonnen Rolf hævner det (Grottesangen, 10de årh., norsk).
"4. Skjoldungen Frode overfalder sin broder Halvdan og dræber ham; sönnerne Hroar og Helge redder livet og hævner siden deres faders död (norsk og islandsk saga, 12te, 13de, 14de årh.).
"Ifölge dette må sagaen om Helges og Hroars barndom være opstået mellem år 1000 (950) og år 1100, snarest nær ved den förste tid.[128]
"Langt vigtigere end tidspunktet er dog arten af denne omdannelse. Vi står her foran det störste skel, der forekommer i heltedigtningens levnedslöb: overgangen fra den löse skare af småsagn, der slutter sig forklarende og udfyldende omkring kvadene, til sagaen, der selvstændig og i löbende sammenhæng gör rede for heltenes liv. Netop ved Skjoldungsagnene måtte denne overgang blive afgörende. Når Halvdans mord var det förste punkt i slægtens historie, kunde man umulig unddrage sig fra klart og alsidig at belyse dets fölger. Det var selvfölgeligt, at Frode også stræbte at rydde Halvdans to sönner af vejen; således fremkom sagnene om fosterfædre og venner, der sögte at skjule dem. For Helge og Hroar måtte den eneste vej til deres fædrene trone gå gennem kamp; deraf opstod da sagnet on hævn over Frode.
"Enkeite træk i denne digtning bar sagamanden natürligvis hentet fra den overleverede rigdom af sagn. Det er allerede forlængst indset, at væsenlige træk skyldes lån fra sagnet on Amled, den unge kongesön, der redder sit liv ved foregivet vanvid, da hans farbroder bar hævet sig på tronen ved mord på hans fader."
The chapter from which the above is taken contains about a page more. Olrik says, "Sagnet om Helge og Hroar er dog som helhed noget ganske andet end den specielle Amledtype." He refers by way of comparison to the life of Sigurd the Volsung, to the myth of Romulus and Remus, and the corresponding myth of the Greek twins of Thebes, Thessaly, and Arcadia; and concludes thus: "Er der fremmed indflydelse ved dens födsel [i.e., the story of Hroar's and Helgi's childhood], må den være svag og let strejfende. Snarere må man opfatte sagnet således, at dette æmne har en livskraft til stadig at födes på ny, hver gang den unge belt vokser op efter faderens drab. Motivet er så nærliggende, så ubetinget heltegyldigt, at da Skjoldungsagaerne voksede frem på folkemunde, måtte de åbnes med denne digtning; den var stadig—så at sige—lige nödvendig for at stemple den store helteskikkelse."
The story about the Scylding kings in its various phases (except the first, in Beowulf) is found in Denmark and in the Old Norse. Among the Danes and Norwegians (including Icelanders), therefore, we must look for an explanation of this last stage of development. But in the north of England were many Danes and Norwegians, and, as has already been pointed out, the story about Bothvar Bjarki was known in England and acquired distinct features there.[129] To England, then, we turn for an explanation of the main features of the Hroar-Helgi story.
Furthermore, the story is due to a combination of influences. Evidence of this is the fact that it shows unmistakable influence of the Hamlet story, which, however, does not furnish an explanation of the story as a whole. And the fact that the story about Hroar and Helgi was not a native product of England and had no roots in the soil of the country, so to speak, which tended to hold it within bounds, but was an imported story circulating rather loosely, far from the scene of the supposed events related, would make it peculiarly susceptible to extraneous influences adapted to aid in its development.
The first influence to which the Hroar-Helgi story was subjected was plainly the "exile-return" type of story, whose general characteristics are stated by Deutschbein as follows:—
"Das Reich eines Königs, der nur einen jungen unerwachsenen Sohn hat, wird eines Tages vom Feinde überfallen. Der Vater fällt im blutigen Kampfe. Die Rettung des jungen Thronerben ist mit Schwierigkeiten verbunden—häufig steht dem jungen Fürstensohn in der äussersten Not ein getreuer Eckhart zur Seite, eine feststehende Figur in unserm Typus. Der Königssohn wird in Sicherheit gebracht, in der Fremde zunächst in niedriger Stellung, meist unter angenommenem Namen, wächst er zu einem tüchtigen Recken heran, bis zuletzt die Zeit der Heimkehr gekommen ist. Er nimmt furchtbare Rache an den Mördern seines Vaters und gewinnt sein Erbe zurück; wesentliche Dienste leistet ihm dabei ein oder mehrere treue Anhänger seines Vaters, die in der Heimat zurückgeblieben sind.
"Eine Abart dieses Typus weist einen anderen Eingang auf: statt äusserer Feinde sind es nahe Verwandte (Oheim, Stiefvater, Stiefbrüder), die den jungen Prinzen seines Vaters berauben und ihm selbst nachstellen. Diese Form bezeichnen wir mit B, die Hauptform mit A."[130]
The Hroar-Helgi story has two young princes; otherwise, it conforms exactly to type B.
Frothi, Halfdan's brother (Hrólfssaga version), attacks him with an army and defeats and slays him. The boys are taken by Regin, their foster-father, to a neighboring island for safety (this, however, is being sent abroad with a limited application of the term), where they live with a shepherd in a cave, responding, when necessary, to the names of dogs. There they remain until they are twelve and ten years old respectively, when they return to their sister and brother-in-law, who, together with Regin, render the boys valuable assistance. They take frightful vengeance on their father's slayer by setting fire to his hall and forcing him to perish in the flames.
The third stage having been reached in the development of the Hroar-Helgi story, in which the brother who is slain is avenged by one of his descendants, it was easy and natural for it to fall in with the "exile-return" type. The type is not an artificial type, it is founded on human nature. The guileless and weak must yield to the designing and strong. History teems with illustrations of the fact that he wears the crown who can win it and hold it. Where a kingdom is the prize, a man is under a mighty temptation when he sees that he can seize it by brushing aside a weak ruler and a still weaker heir, or, the ruler being out of the way, the young heir only. And it is natural that, the young heir surviving, he should avenge a murdered parent, regain the crown, and not permit the usurper to enjoy the fruits of his crime unmolested. Friends each party would also have, actuated, if by nothing else, by self-interest, which is bound up in the success of their chief. What the Hroar-Helgi story in its third stage of development may have been we do not know. We are only told that "Yrsa's son will avenge Frothi's murder of Halfdan." But the story was well prepared for the type it was to assume.
That the story was clearly regarded as one of this type is evident from the fact that in Johannes Bramis' Historia Regis Waldei Frodas is the usurper of the throne which by right belongs to Waldef.[131] It is not necessary to repeat the story; it has all the characteristics of the "exile-return" type. As a whole, it has no connection with the Hroar-Helgi story; and it contains the only instance known of the use of Frothi outside the story where he originally belongs. But he is so typically the same person, with the same unlovable characteristics, that he can be none other than the Frothi who plays such a conspicuous part in the history of the Scylding kings.
The use of Frothi as a typical usurper in the English Waldef story is also a very strong indication that the story in which he has his proper setting was current in England; otherwise, by what channel did he get into the Waldef story?[132]
Our next question is, What stories of the "exile-return" type were current in the portions of England in which the Hroar-Helgi story would naturally circulate? We think, of course, immediately of Havelok the Dane. Deutschbein has shown that Havelok is founded on historical events that occurred in the first half of the tenth century.[133] The gist of the story is that an heir to the Danish throne is deprived of his heritage, suffers deep humiliation, but finally regains his heritage and, through marriage, the crown of Norfolk in England in addition. The story was of a nature to make a strong appeal to the Scandinavians, especially the Danes, in England. It achieved, in fiction, the ambition which the Danes realized under Swen and Canute, when these sovereigns governed both Denmark and England. It was a Danish story; it was developed after 950, which was about the time the third stage in the development of the Hroar-Helgi story had been reached; and it was a creation of the Scandinavians in England, among whom the story circulated.