The Heroic Age

by H. Munro Chadwick

CHAPTER VII.
MYTHICAL ELEMENTS IN THE HEROIC POEMS.

We have now to consider the question whether myth is a necessary element in the formation of heroic poetry. It has been noticed that historical persons figure in many stories of the Heroic Age, while others do not contain a single character whose historical existence can be authenticated. These latter stories are believed to be wholly mythical in origin, though they may not show any supernatural features in their final form. But even in stories of the former type it is held that some of the characters are almost always of mythical origin, and that their association with historical characters is a secondary development—due to confusion or to poetic imagination.

In the last chapter we put forward the view that Beowulf, the hero of the poem, has been confused with a mythical character of the same name, and that the adventure with the dragon originally belonged to the latter. It can scarcely be doubted that Scyld Scefing, the father of this earlier Beowulf, was also a mythical character. The only element in his story common to English and Scandinavian tradition is that he is regarded as the ancestor of the Scyldungas or Skiöldungar, the Danish royal family, and all analogies suggest that he came into existence as their eponymus. The brief account of him given in the poem might, except in two particulars, be applied to almost any successful king of the Heroic Age. One exception relates to the story of the funeral ship, on which the dead king's body is sent out to sea. In spite of Prof. Olrik's doubts[195] I cannot but think that this is a reminiscence of ancient custom. The other is the reference to his arrival as an infant, likewise by sea—a story told more fully of Sceaf in certain English chronicles. The only question here is between myth and folk-tale. The story may fairly be classed under the latter head, though I think its origin is ultimately to be sought in a ritual myth. Scandinavian authorities, apart from Saxo[196], record nothing distinctive of Skiöldr, except that he was a son of Othin and the husband of the goddess Gefion[197]—which again points to myth.

In Scyld-Skiöldr we have the case of an eponymous ancestor appearing in the introduction to a poem which deals largely with the fortunes of his descendants. But there is no evidence that his own deeds ever formed the subject of an independent heroic poem. It would be somewhat hasty therefore to use this case as an argument for the origin of characters who are brought before us in the main action of heroic poems.

Next we may take the story of Weland, as to the mythical origin of which nearly all scholars seem to be agreed. It has indeed a historical or semi-historical connection in the fact that Weland is represented as the father of Widia (Wudga), i.e. the early Gothic hero Vidigoia mentioned by Jordanes (cf. p. [27]); but this is held to be a secondary element in the story. In its original form the story is believed to have dealt only with the incidents related in Völundarkviða, viz. (i) the adventure with the swan-maidens, (ii) Weland's imprisonment by Nithhad and his revenge[198]. Behind the story itself however there lies a widespread belief in the existence of a supernatural smith of this name. Several places in Germany (Westphalia and Holstein) are reputed to be the scene of his operations, while in this country he is connected with the cromlech called Wayland Smith, near Ashdown in Berkshire. In its ultimate origin this belief is traced to the myth of a fire-demon. Certainly it is to be noted that the name Weland is of a very exceptional type—apparently participial in form. One can hardly help suspecting that it once had a definite meaning, though this cannot now be determined with certainty[199].

Now there can be little doubt that the adventure with the swan-maidens is derived from a folk-tale. In this part of the story there is no indication of a fire-demon, or even of a smith, while analogies for the incident are fairly common both in Teutonic lands and much farther afield. We may confine our attention therefore to the second and better known part—that which deals with Weland's imprisonment and revenge.

It is manifest that this story departs very decidedly from the ordinary standard of heroic poetry—firstly in the fact that the hero is here clearly represented as a smith, and secondly in the cruelty, treachery and vindictiveness ascribed to the chief characters. These are features which would be in place either in myth or folk-tale. But we may note further that there are analogies for part of this story, just as much as for the incident of the swan-maidens. As an example we may take Saxo's account of the robbing of Mimingus by Hotherus (p. [70] f.). Mimingus is a satyrus, i.e. clearly either an elf or dwarf, who dwells in a cave in an almost inaccessible forest. Hotherus surprises and binds him and then takes away his sword and a magical ring. A connection between the two stories is shown even in the name, for Weland's most famous sword is called Mimming[200]. For a more remote parallel we may compare the story of Loki and Andvari. Indeed the spoiling of a dwarf is quite a common motif in Northern tales, while at the same time such beings are constantly credited with extraordinary skill in metallurgy. The distinctive feature in the story of Weland, apart from the revenge, is that sympathy is on the side of the smith.

It is the end of the story—where Weland (Völundr) rises into the air and flies away—that is supposed to point most clearly to a fire-myth. But this feature cannot be traced except in the Norse version[201]. Moreover here we have also the adventure with the flying swan-maidens, in whose case there is no suspicion of such a myth. Setting aside this incident the story is perfectly explicable as a folk-tale founded on actual experience. There can be no doubt that in the Heroic Age—and indeed in much earlier times—princes were especially anxious to obtain slaves, whether foreigners or not, who were skilled in metallurgy. And it is by no means incredible that such slaves were sometimes lamed in order to prevent any attempt at escape—although, quite apart from this explanation, smith's work may be regarded as a vocation natural to the lame man, just as minstrelsy to the blind. Further, it is likely enough that servile smiths, when cruelly treated, would take any opportunity that presented itself of avenging themselves on their masters. For the murder of Nithhad's sons we have a somewhat striking historical parallel in Eugippus' Life of St Severinus (cap. 8). Feletheus, king of the Rugii, who were settled on the Danube in the time of Odoacer, had a young son who one day was entrapped by some goldsmiths in the queen's service. They threatened to take his life; but the saint intervened and rescued the boy on condition of the smiths obtaining their freedom[202].

What seems to me to be really the most remarkable feature in the story is that a person in this position should come to be made the subject of heroic or semi-heroic poetry; for it is plain enough from many sources, especially Saxo's History, that smiths were generally regarded with deep aversion. In Deor's Elegy Weland is said to be a more distinguished man than Nithhad; in Völundarkviða he is called a chief of the elves, while the introduction makes him the son of a king of the Finns. Yet, except in the late Thiðreks Saga, his father's name is never given, and none of our authorities credit him with possessing a following of his own.