But this difference of interest is itself a matter which calls for explanation. If we are to trust the evidence of the records it is due to differences in the ideas which animated heroic and non-heroic society[504]. Among these we may note especially an essential difference in the conception of the state. With this question we shall have to deal more fully in a later chapter. It may be indicated here however that in the Heroic Age the state appears to have been regarded as little more than the property of an individual—or rather perhaps of a family, which itself was intimately connected with a number of other families in similar positions. The decline and disappearance of kingship in Greece during the eighth century presupposes of course that such a conception had long ceased to retain its vitality. And even among the Teutonic peoples, which usually preserved the institution of kingship, we find abundant evidence for a similar change of view. Among the Franks kingship had long been a mere shadow when the non-royal Pippin took the throne in 752. In England we do not meet with non-royal kings until more than a century later; but even by Bede's time it is clear that the kingdom had come to be looked upon as something more than the property of the royal family.
When once the characteristics of the spirit of the Heroic Age have been fully recognised they will be found to explain several features in the stories which have often been regarded as incredible. One of these is the fact that wars are generally represented as arising out of the personal quarrels or jealousies of princes, or out of wrongs perpetrated by one prince upon another. Thus it has been assumed by many scholars that the story of the abduction of Helen is of mythical origin, not on account of any intrinsic improbability contained in it, but because it is founded on a motif which is extremely common in folk-tales. But it has been pointed out above (p. [265]) that the reason why the abduction motif is common in folk-tales lies in the fact that under unsettled social conditions such occurrences were common in real life. The conditions of the Heroic Age, whether Greek or Teutonic, were doubtless not normally so unsettled that the abduction of a queen or princess could fail to attract attention. In the case of the wife of a distinguished king it can scarcely be doubted that such an event would produce a profound sensation; and it is to this, we may presume, that the story in the first place owed its celebrity. But the part played by women in international quarrels during the Teutonic Heroic Age must not be overlooked. In addition to the stories of which love adventures form the main theme (cf. p. [333]) we may allude to such cases as Beow. 2930 ff., where Haethcyn is said to have carried off the Swedish queen with consequences disastrous to himself. Above all however it is well to bear in mind the story of the war between the Angli and the Warni (cf. p. [97] f.), a war which owed its origin to Radiger's repudiation of his marriage contract with the English king's sister. We have seen that this story comes not from a poem, but from the work of a strictly contemporary Roman historian.
Nor can it be said that this case stands alone. According to Gregory of Tours (III 6) the overthrow of the Burgundian kingdom was due to the instigation of Hrothhild, who implored her sons to exact vengeance for the murder of her parents—a case not unlike the Norse version of the story of Hamðir and Sörli. Hildeberht's invasion of Spain was undertaken in answer to messages from his sister Hlothhild, who had been illtreated by her husband, the Visigothic king Amalaric (ib., III 10). The dissensions which eventually brought about the downfall of the Thuringian kingdom had their origin in the proud and jealous character of Amalaberga, the wife of Irminfrith (ib., III 4). Unless we are prepared to shut our eyes to the plain evidence of history we are bound to recognise that the personal feelings of queens and princesses were among the very strongest of the factors by which the politics of the Heroic Age were governed.
There has undoubtedly been a tendency among modern historians to neglect the personal element in early Teutonic history and to concentrate attention upon the movements of peoples and upon 'constitutional' changes. The feature with which we have just been dealing is only one of several which owing to this neglect have been regarded as essentially 'poetic' motives, the origin of which must be sought in myth or fiction. Decisive evidence to the contrary is furnished by writers of the sixth century. Certainly the picture of Teutonic court life which they give produces a different impression from that which we gain from the poems. The atmosphere suggested by the latter is one of adventure and romance, whereas the former convey an idea of reckless brutality. Yet it is only necessary to place the two sets of records side by side in order to see that the one is complementary to the other—that the difference lies not in the subjects treated but in the point of view from which they are regarded. Gregory (II 28) records without comment or explanation that the Burgundian king Gundobad slew his brother Hilperic (Hrothhild's father) with the sword and drowned his wife with a stone tied to her neck. If this incident had been treated in heroic poetry we should doubtless gain a very different impression. Different too would be the impression conveyed by the story of Sigurðr, if we had it from a Roman historian. But when the two stories are compared it cannot be said that the picture which the poems present of the Burgundian kingdom under Guthhere is incompatible with the picture which history gives us of the Burgundian kingdom under Gundobad, some fifty years later. No true impression of the Heroic Age can be obtained by crediting the youthful kings of unlearned communities with a knowledge of political principles which we have acquired from long study of the history of many nations; and it is equally futile to seek for grounds of policy in actions which very frequently were dictated solely by passion. Ambition was no doubt a factor, as in all stages of society. But the form which it seems to have taken as a rule was purely personal and directed towards the acquisition of wealth or glory rather than with any view of establishing the kingdom upon a permanent basis[505].
Another feature to which exception has been taken is the fact that in battle scenes the fighting is generally represented as a series of single combats between the various leading men. Here again the objection seems to be based on a misunderstanding of the conditions of heroic warfare. In the first place we have no reason for doubting that in both the periods with which we are dealing the leaders were far better armed than the rank and file of the forces. In hand to hand fighting the possession of defensive armour, helmet and mail-coat, constitutes an overwhelming advantage. Secondly, the passion for personal glory, which is so prominent in the poems, must have prompted the ambitious man to pick out the most distinguished opponents. If he was a 'squire' success would bring rich rewards[506]. But even the leaders themselves, as among the Germans of Tacitus' time[507], were doubtless expected to distinguish themselves by preeminence in bravery, rather than by skilful generalship. Thirdly, and this is the most important point, the general object aimed at in a battle was not to gain a strategic advantage but to kill the leaders. Very often this meant the destruction of the enemy's organisation. At times indeed it appears that the death or capture of a king led forthwith to the end of hostilities. Thus in the battle of Strassburg in 357, when the Romans captured the Alamannic king Chonodomarius, his personal retinue, to the number of two hundred, gave themselves up voluntarily to share his captivity[508]. And in Beowulf we see from more than one passage that when the king was slain the heart of the resistance was broken. Under such conditions we may well believe that the direction to 'fight neither with small nor great, save only with the king,' was a piece of perfectly sound policy.
We have to take account moreover of another element, somewhat strange to modern ideas, namely the intense eagerness to get possession of a fallen enemy's arms. In the battle scenes of the Iliad this feature is constantly to the fore; indeed the most severe conflicts usually take place over the bodies of warriors. In the English poems it is much the same. We may quote Beow. 2985 ff.: "Thereupon the warrior (Eofor) despoiled his opponent. He took from Ongentheo his iron mail-coat and his sharp and hilted sword, together with his helmet, and brought the old man's accoutrements to Hygelac." And again v. 2613 ff.: "To him (Eanmund) Weohstan brought death in combat by the sword's edge; and to his kinsmen he presented the burnished helmet, the ring-formed mail-coat and the ancient sword of giant workmanship—though the latter was returned to him by Onela." It will be seen that the Teutonic warriors, who in both these cases are 'squires,' render up the spoils to their lords, whereas the Greek princes keep them for themselves; but we need not doubt that they expected an equivalent reward.
The article chiefly coveted seems to have been the coat of mail. In Wald. II 16 ff. the hero says to Guthhere: "Take from me the grey mail-coat, if thou dare; for thou seest how I am worn out with battle. Upon my shoulders here stands an heirloom from Aelfhere; good it is and ..., adorned with gold, a superb garment for a prince to possess, when his hand is defending life's treasure from his foes." Such articles were doubtless very costly, and often, as in this case, they were handed on from generation to generation. Beowulf's coat of mail had belonged to his grandfather, and was believed to be the workmanship of Weland. Before his encounter with Grendel he charges the king of the Danes to send it back to Hygelac in the event of his death. A coat of mail which was found intact at Vi in Fyn contains about twenty thousand rings, and it has been calculated that such an article would take a single workman nearly a whole year to make[509].
It is to be remembered further that wealthy princes, prompted no doubt by love of display, were in the habit of carrying about their persons a considerable amount of gold. Glaucos indeed is said to have gone to battle in golden armour worth a hundred oxen (Il. VI 235 f.). Hygelac, when he was slain, was wearing the magnificent necklet which Wealhtheo had given to Beowulf (v. 1195 ff.). Historical records give evidence to the same effect[510]; and there can be little doubt that the spoils of such kings often amounted to a considerable fortune. If, in addition to spoils of this kind, account is taken of the chances of booty and ransoms, not only after a general victory but also in incidental and more or less private forays[511], it will be seen that warfare of the heroic type offered very substantial inducements, apart from the acquisition of glory.
It is not to be supposed that such warfare was really of an effective character. Even in the Iliad itself (VI 67 ff.) a warning is raised against it by the old Nestor, who is represented (ib. II 555) as an exceptionally skilful general, but his advice seems to be unheeded. Between two armies of the heroic type the issue had to be decided, if at all, by a pitched battle. Sheltered behind fortifications, even an inferior army had not much to fear. In that case the people most exposed to danger were what we should call non-combatants—not only the women and children and unwarlike dependents of the combatants themselves[512], but also any neighbouring communities who might be caught unawares by bands of hungry warriors.