CHAPTER XXV.
SORROW AND MOURNING.

Egil’s sorrow—Egil’s song—The first song of Gudrun—The second song of Gudrun—Halls draped with black and grey.

There are several beautiful examples in Northern literature showing how strong were the affections in the hearts of the people, even among the bravest warriors. Conspicuous amongst these examples are Egil’s and Gudrun’s songs of sorrow, the former mourning the death of a son, the latter that of a husband.

“When Egil returned from his last journey to Norway and Vermland, Bödvar, his son, was full grown. He was a most promising man; handsome, tall, and strong as Egil or Thorol had been at his age. Egil loved him greatly, and Bödvar also was fond of him. One summer a ship came into Hvita (white river), where there was a large gathering for trade. Egil had bought much wood there, and had it brought home. The huskarls went in an eight-oared boat which Egil owned. Bödvar begged to go with them, and this they granted him; he went to Vellir with the huskarls, who were six in number, in an eight-oared boat. At the time fixed for their departure the high tide was late in the day, so they waited for it and left late in the evening. Then came a violent south-west gale, and the ebb tide was opposed to it; the sea rose high in the fjord, as often happens there, and the boat was swamped in the heavy sea, and all were drowned; the bodies were thrown ashore the next day. That of Bödvar came ashore in Einarsnes, but others on the southern shore of the fjord, where the boat was driven, and were found at Reykjarhamar. Egil heard of it the same day, and forthwith rode to search for the bodies. He found that of Bödvar outstretched: he took it up, and put it on his knee, and rode with it out to Digranes to the mound of Skallagrim. He had the mound opened, and laid Bödvar at the side of Skallagrim, the mound was then closed, but this was not done until sunset. Egil rode home to Borg (his farm), and there went at once to the locked bed-closet where he was wont to sleep; he laid himself down and locked himself up, and nobody dared talk to him. When they laid Bödvar down in the mound, Egil wore hose fitting tight to the leg; a fustian-kirtle, red, narrow, small at the upper end, and laced on the side, but he swelled so much from grief that the kirtle as well as the hose were rent. The next day Egil did not unlock the door, nor did he take any food or drink. He lay there that day, and the night following it; nobody dared speak to him. The third morning at dawn Asgerd made a man take horse and ride as swiftly as he could west to Hjardarholt, and tell Thorgerd (daughter of Egil, wife of Olaf Höskuldsson) all these tidings. He arrived there about noon, and said that Asgerd asked her to come as soon as possible to Borg. Thorgerd at once had a horse saddled, and two men followed her. They rode that evening and all night till they reached Borg. Thorgerd at once went into the hall; Asgerd greeted her, and asked if they had supped. Thorgerd said loudly “I have had no supper, and shall have none until with Freyja.[333] I know of no better resolve than to do like my father. I will not live after my father and brother.” She went to the bedroom, and shouted, ‘Father, open the door. I want you to go with me.’ Egil drew back the latch. Thorgerd went up and shut the door; she laid herself down in another bed which was there. Then Egil said ‘Thou didst well, daughter, in wishing to follow thy father. Thou hast shown me much love. Who can expect me to live with this grief?’ Then they were silent for a while. Then Egil said ‘What is that, daughter? Dost thou chew anything?’ ‘I am chewing samphire (sea-weed),’ she answered, ‘and I think that I shall suffer for it; otherwise I think I shall live too long.’ ‘Is it hurtful?’ asked Egil. ‘Very much so,’ said she; ‘wilt thou eat?’ ‘What does it matter?’ said he. Soon after she called and asked for drink. Water was then given her to drink. Then Egil said: ‘When one eats samphire, one gets more and more thirsty.’ ‘Wilt thou drink, father?’ said she. He took deep draughts from a horn. Then Thorgerd said: ‘We are deceived, this is milk.’ Egil bit from the horn what his teeth clutched, and threw it away. Thorgerd said: ‘What shall we do, now that this plan is upset? I should like, father, to lengthen our life, so that thou mightest compose a funeral poem on Bödvar, and I will carve it on a stick of wood; then let us die if we like. I think thy son Thorstein will be slow in making a poem on him, but it is not proper that there should be no funeral feast, for I do not think we shall sit at the drinking at his arvel.’ Egil said it was unlikely that he could make a poem then, even if he tried, but he would make an attempt” (Egil’s Saga).

I give the leading stanzas of the poem.

SONA-TORREK (the loss of sons).[334]
It is very difficult
To move my tongue,
Or the heavy air
Of the steel-yard of sound.[335]
Now there is little hope
Of the theft of Vidrir,[336]
Nor is it easy to draw it
Out of the hiding-place of the mind.[337]
The silent find[338]
Of the kinsmen of Thriggi,[339]
Brought of yore
From Jötunheimar
Is not easily driven
From the abode of the mind.
Heavy sorrow
Is the cause.
The blameless Bragi
Got famous
On the boat
Of Nokkver (a Dverg);[340]
The wound[341] of the neck of the Jotun
Roars
Down at the door
Of the house of my kinsman.[342]
For my kin
Has come near to its end
Like the death-beaten
Branches in the forest.
The man is not merry
Who carries
The bones of his kinsmen
From the place of dead bodies.[343]
Nevertheless
I recall first
The death of my father,
The death of my mother.
That timber of song,[344]
With words for leaves,[345]
I bring out
Of the temple of speech.[346]
Cruel was the gate
Which Hronn[347] broke
On the kin-wall[348]
Of my father.
I see the place of my son,
Made waste by sea,
Stand empty
And open.[349]
The want of brothers
Comes often
Into the mind
Of the women of Björn.[350]
I look round
When the battle thickens;
I heed this
And look to see if
Any other Thegn
Daring in fight
Stands
At my side;
I need it often.
Such are the tempers of men;
My flight becomes faint
When my friends get few.
It is also told
That no one gets
The equal of his son
Unless he begets another;
Nor a kinsman
Who is to him
Like the man
Who is his born brother.
THE FIRST SONG OF GUDRUN.

The brothers of Gudrun, daughter of Gjuki, had slain her husband, Sigurd Fafnisbani, in his bed. Gudrun sat over Sigurd when he was dead; she did not weep, as other women, but almost died from grief. Both men and women came to comfort her, but did not find it easy to do so.

Gudrun was
Near to death
When she sat, full of grief,
Over Sigurd;
She did not weep,
Nor wring her hands,
Nor wail
Like other women.
Very wise jarls
Came forward,
Who tried to soothe
Her heavy heart;
Though Gudrun was
Unable to weep;
She was so sad;
Her heart almost broke.
The high-born
Brides of jarls
Sat, gold adorned,
By Gudrun;
Each of them
Related her woes,
The bitterest sorrow
She had suffered.
The sister of Gjuki,
Gjaflang, said:
No women on earth
Lack love more than I;
I have felt the loss
Of husbands five,
Of daughters two,
Of sisters three,
Of brothers eight,
And yet I live alone.
Still Gudrun
Could not weep,
So full of grief was she
For her dead husband,
And heavy-hearted
O’er the king’s corpse.
Then said Herborg,
The Queen of Hunaland:
I have a harder
Sorrow to tell;
My seven sons
And my eighth husband
Fell among the slain
In the southern lands.
My father and mother,
My four brothers;
The wind played with them
On the deep;
The wave dashed them
Against the gunwale.
I myself had to wash,
I myself had to bury,
I myself had to handle
Their corpses;
All that I suffered
In one year,
And no man
Gave me help.
The same year
I became a bondwoman;[351]
I had to dress,
And to tie the shoes
Of a hersir’s wife
Every morning.
She threatened me
Because of jealousy,
And struck me with
Hard blows;
Nowhere found I
A better house-master
Nor anywhere
A worse housewife.
Still Gudrun
Could not weep,
So sad was she
For her dead husband
And heavy-hearted
O’er the king’s corpse.
Then said Gullrönd,
The daughter of Gjuki:
Little comfort
Canst thou, foster-mother,
Wise though thou art,
Give the young wife.
She bid them uncover
The king’s corpse.
She drew the sheet
Off Sigurd
And threw it on the ground,
Before the knees of the wife:—
Look on thy beloved one,
Put thy mouth to his lips,
As if thou did’st embrace
The living king.
Gudrun looked
At him once;
She saw his hair
Dripping with blood;
The flashing eyes
Of the king were dead;
His breast[352]
Was cut with a sword.
Then Gudrun sank down
Upon the pillow;
Loose was her hair,
Flushed was her cheek
And a tear-drop
Fell on her knee.
Then wept Gudrun,
The daughter of Gjuki,
So that the tears
Flowed through her tresses;
And the geese
Screamed in the yard—
The good fowls
Which the maiden owned.
Then said Gullrönd,
The daughter of Gjuki:
I never knew
A greater love
Among all men
Upon earth
Than that of you two.
Thou wast never happy,
My sister,
Indoors or out,
Unless with Sigurd.
Then said Gudrun,
The daughter of Gjuki:
Such was my Sigurd
Among the sons of Gjuki,
As a garlic[353]
Grown high among grass,
Or a shining stone
Set on a band,
A precious gem,
So was he above the high-born.
I seemed also
To the king’s champions
Higher than any
Dis of Herjan;[354]
Now I am lowly
As a willow leaf,
After the king’s death.
I miss in the seat
And in the bed
The talk of my friend;
The sons of Gjuki cause
My misery,
And the sore weeping
Of their sister.
So shall you
Lose your land
As you kept not
The sworn oaths;
Thou, Gunnar, wilt not
Enjoy the gold;
Those rings
Will be thy death,
As thou to Sigurd
Did’st falsely swear.
Oft was it merrier
When my Sigurd
Saddled Grani
In the grass-plot (tun),
And they went
To woo Brynhild,
The cursed being
With bad luck.
Then said Brynhild,
The daughter of Budli:
May that being lack[355]
Husband and children
Who made thee
Weep, Gudrun,
And to thee this morning
Gave power of speech.[356]
Then said Gullrönd,
The daughter of Gjuki:
Speak not these words,
Much hated one;
Thou hast always been
The Urd[357] of the high-born;
Every man disowns thee,
Thou evil being!
Sore sorrow
Of seven kings,
And the greatest spoiler
Of wives’ friends.[358]
Then said Brynhild,
The daughter of Budli:
Atli alone causes
All the misery;
The son or Budli,
My brother,
When we in the hall
Of the Hunnish people
Saw with the king
The fire of the serpent lair[359]
I have paid since
For that journey;
Of that sight
I was not afraid.
She stood at the door-post;
She clasped the alder-tree;[360]
Fire flashed
Out of the eyes
Of Brynhild, Budli’s daughter;
Venom gushed from her
When she saw the wounds
Of Sigurd.

Gudrun’s second song to King Thjodrek at the hird of Atli.

I was a maiden of maidens,
My bright mother
Raised me in her house;
I loved my brothers well,
Till Gjuki endowed me with gold,
And gave me to Sigurd.
So was Sigurd
Among the sons of Gjuki
As a green leek
Grown high in the grass,
Or a long-legged hart
Among the swift deer,
Or ruddy gold
Amidst grey silver.
Until my brothers
Begrudged me
A husband,
Who was the foremost of all;
They could not sleep
Nor judge law-cases
Till they had slain Sigurd.
Grani[361] ran from the Thing;
The noise (of his hoofs) was heard;
But then Sigurd
Himself did not come.
All the saddle-deer[362]
Were soiled with blood,
And wearied
Under their murderers.
I went in my tears
To talk to Grani;
With wet cheeks
I asked him to speak.
Grani drooped his head,
Bowed it down to the grass;
The steed knew
His owner was no more.
A long while I wavered,
Long was my mind divided
Before I asked
The people-defender
For news of the king.
Gunnar drooped his head;
Högni told me
The painful death
Of Sigurd:
The slayer of Gothorm
Lies slain
Beyond the water,
Given to the wolves.
Seek for Sigurd there,
On the southern road;
Then thou wilt hear
Ravens croak,
Eagles scream,
Glad at their booty,
Wolves howl
Over thy husband.
Why wilt thou, Högni,
Such sorrows tell
To me so joy-bereft?
The ravens should
Tear thy heart
In far-off lands,
Where thou art a stranger.
Högni answered:
Some day, Gudrun,
With heavy mind,
With great grief;
More cause wilt thou have
To weep,
If my heart
By ravens be torn.
I went alone thence
From this talk
Into the forest
To gather what the wolves had left.[363]
I did not moan
Nor wring my hands,
Nor wail,
Like other women,
When I sat over
The dead Sigurd.
Pitch dark
The night seemed
When I sat sorrow-stricken
Over Sigurd;
I should have liked
The wolves far better
Had they taken my life,
Or I
Had been burnt
Like birch-wood.

In the following remarkable account of a battle between Knut and Harald, the two sons of King Gorm, in which Knut was killed, we find that when a family was in mourning the halls were draped with black and grey.

“After this Harald and his men proceeded until they reached King Gorm’s farm late at night, and went ashore fully armed. It is said, by some who know, that Harald did not know how he should tell his father, for he had made a vow that he would die if he heard of the fall of his son Knut, and would kill the man who told him of his death.

“Harald sent his foster-brother, Hauk, to his mother, Queen Thyri, and requested her to find some way to give him the news. She bade him go himself and tell the king that two hawks had been fighting, one of which was entirely white, the other grey, and both brave. At last the white hawk was killed, which was thought a great pity. Hauk thereupon returned to Harald, and reported what his mother had said. Harald thereupon went to the hall, where King Gorm and his men were drinking, went up to his father, and told him about the hawks, as his mother had advised, ending by saying that the white hawk was dead. He said no more. It is not stated where Harald and his men took up their quarters that night. King Gorm did not appear to comprehend this. The men sat drinking as long as they liked that night, and then went to bed; but after they had left the hall Queen Thyri took down the hangings, and instead put up black and grey cloth until all was covered. She had done this because it was the custom in those days when tidings of grief came to do as she did.

“King Gorm, the old, rose in the morning, and went into his high-seat, intending to begin drinking. He looked at the walls of the hall; the queen sat in the high-seat with him. He said: ‘Thou, Queen Thyri, must have ordered the hall to be thus prepared.’ ‘For what purpose should I?’ she asked. ‘Because,’ the king added, ‘thou wishest now to tell me of the fall of my son Knut.’[364] ‘Thou now tellest it thyself,’ said the queen. He had been standing in front of the high-seat while they were talking, but now sat down suddenly, answered nothing, fell back against the wall of the hall, and died. He was carried to burial, and a mound was thrown up over him by order of Thyri. She then sent word to her son Harald to return with all his men and drink arvel after his father. This he did, and it was very splendid.

“After this Harald took possession of the kingdom and all the lands of his father, and held a Thing with the men of the country, at which the Danes chose him as king over the whole of Denmark” (Flateyjarbok, vol. i.; Jomsvikinga Thatt).

Fig. 1353.

Fig. 1354.

Fig. 1355.

Small clay urns, with burnt bones and objects of bronze, buttons, needles, knives, etc. In a mound, Zealand. ¼ real size.

Fig. 1356.—Clay urn, in a mound with burnt bones. Björkö, Lake Mälar. ¼ size.

Fig. 1357.—Small clay urn. ¼ size.