There can be no doubt that the poems of Stage IV are derived from those of Stage III. But the question may be raised whether the latter were necessarily derived from poems of Stages I and II—whether some heroic poems may not have been entirely of popular origin. It may be freely granted that the poetry of Stage II was constantly exposed to popular influence, especially in the form of folk-tales. Most scholars indeed hold that some of the best known heroic stories, such as those of Sigurðr-Siegfried and Weland, are derived from popular mythology. With this problem we shall have to deal later. On the whole however I am inclined to doubt whether we possess a single heroic story which has not been treated in court-poetry at an earlier stage in its career.

Again, the relationship between Stage I and Stage II is not so simple as the bare statement given above might seem to imply. In the first place it is only as a class that poems of Stage I can be regarded as the earlier. Individual poems may very well be later than others which belong to Stage II. Thus it is extremely probable that Gothic princes were listening to laudatory poems about themselves at a time when other Gothic poems, of a definitely narrative type, were coming to be regarded as ancient. Then again, poems of a more or less narrative type may have been composed quite soon after the events which they treat. Hornklofi's Hrafnsmál and the poem on the battle of Brunanburh must be regarded as analogous to poems of Stage I, but it is only a short step from such works to purely narrative pieces. Indeed, in a sense, we may almost class among narrative poems Eyvindr's Hákonarmál, which describes the fall of Haakon I at the battle of Fitje. Yet the author was himself present at the battle. It is by no means clear then that poems belonging to Stage II necessarily presuppose the existence of earlier poems or indeed of materials of any kind beyond the author's personal knowledge and imagination.

But, more than this, we are scarcely justified in denying the possibility that even epics may have been composed upon quite recent events. Few will deny that the poem on the battle of Maldon has a good claim to that title, whatever its original length may have been. The extant portion contains nine speeches, by seven different persons. Twenty-two warriors in the English army are mentioned by name, and in about a dozen cases the names of their fathers or other relatives are also given. The poem differs from the heroic type in the fact that it does not record the name of a single person among the enemy; but that need not prevent us from regarding it as an epic. Yet there can be no reasonable doubt that it was composed within a few years, possibly even months, of the battle[143].

It is likely enough that the author of this poem was well acquainted with heroic poetry and that his treatment of the subject was affected thereby. But is that any objection to supposing that poems of this type may have been composed within the Heroic Age itself? We have no reason whatever for denying that this age was capable of such compositions. Indeed there is one piece of evidence which points very much to the contrary.

This is a passage which occurs in Procopius' History of the Gothic War (IV 20). After describing the embassy sent to Justinian by the Utiguri in the year 551, the author goes on to state that 'about this time' hostilities broke out between the nation of the Warni and the Angli (Ἀγγίλοι) who inhabit the island of Britain (Βριττία). Not long before the Warni had been ruled by a king named Hermegisklos who, being anxious to establish his throne on a secure foundation, sought and obtained in marriage a sister of Theodberht, king of the Franks. By a previous wife he had an only son named Radiger, who at this time was betrothed to a sister of the king of the Angli and had paid her a large sum of money in furtherance of his suit[144]. One day, when the king was riding in a certain place with the chief men of his nation, he saw a bird sitting on a tree and croaking loudly. Now, whether it was that he really understood what the bird said, or whether he had some other source of information but pretended that the bird was uttering a prophecy which he understood—at all events he declared on the spot to his companions that he would die forty days later, for this had been clearly foretold to him by the bird[145]. Thereupon he gives advice as to what should be done after his death, namely that Radiger should marry his widow, in accordance with national custom, and dissolve his engagement with the English princess. On the fortieth day the king died, and Radiger proceeds to carry out his injunctions. But the princess, infuriated at his conduct, gathers together a fleet of four hundred vessels and invades the land of the Warni with 100,000 men. Radiger's army is completely defeated, and he takes refuge in a dense forest. The princess insists on his being taken alive at all costs, and eventually he is captured and brought before her. He expects to be put to death, but after explaining the cause of his action, he is pardoned on condition that he returns to his former engagement.

This story contains a number of features, such as the prophecy of the bird, the payment of the 'bride-fee' and Radiger's marriage with his stepmother, which show clearly that it was derived from someone who was well acquainted with the peoples of northern Europe. There is no ground for disputing that it has a historical basis; but at the same time it is obviously much more than a mere record of facts. Apart from the incident of the bird and the gross exaggeration apparent in certain details[146], the pictorial character of the narrative, especially in its earlier part, indicates a close affinity with heroic poetry. Un-heroic features are not wanting—the introduction of nameless persons and the political reflections of Irmingisl—but they may with probability be attributed to Procopius himself. I do not mean to suggest that his source of information was an epic poem, but I do think that the intellectual atmosphere which could produce such a story must have been exactly of the kind most favourable to the growth of such compositions.

Procopius, as we have seen, places this war in or about the year 551, and we can certainly understand the course of events more easily if it took place after Theodberht's death (A.D. 548). Therefore, since Procopius' work appears to have been written within the next seven or eight years, the story had had little time to develop before it came to his ears. On the other hand we must remember that it refers to a distant region—a fact I think not without significance for the history of contemporary narrative poetry. To persons who had themselves taken part in the events poems like that on the battle of Brunanburh would appeal much more strongly than purely narrative pieces. It is for persons who were either ignorant of the events or knew them only by hearsay that the latter would seem to be primarily intended.

In this discussion we have taken no account of the heroic poems of the Edda. There can be little doubt that these poems must be assigned to Stage IV of our scheme; for though some of them are probably three or four centuries older than the German poems of this class, they bear fairly obvious marks of the disintegrating process which seems to characterise popular poetry[147]. It may be asked how such an opinion is compatible with the view that the story of Sigurðr was derived from the Continent during the seventh century (cf. p. [59]). The true explanation is, I believe, that heroic poetry passed through Stage III after it became known in Norway.

We noted in an earlier chapter (pp. [30], [33]) that Norway plays no part in stories of the Heroic Age. On the other hand it has what we may call a Heroic Age of its own—namely the Viking Age. We have no poems—and few stories of any kind—dealing with persons of Norwegian nationality who lived before that period. The remoteness, poverty and mountainous nature of the country doubtless retarded its development, not only politically but also in the cultivation of poetry. The strophic character of all Norse poetry is generally held to point to a choric origin, and it may very well be that this primitive type of poetry was the only one used in Norway when the heroic stories first became known there. Possibly it was to Frisian and Danish minstrels that the change was due[148]. But the conditions suitable for a flourishing court-poetry, like that of the Heroic Age, scarcely existed before the last years of the eighth century, when Norwegian princes had begun to enrich themselves with maritime enterprises.