herself pregnant, she began to hope that her issue would avenge the death of father and uncles. Though she gave birth to a female child, still hope did not forsake her. From infancy, indeed, Hervor delighted in masculine pursuits. Her stature was equal to that of the other sex; and her spirit was in no respect inferior. No sooner did she approach woman’s estate than she exhibited all her natural ferocity. She put on armour; did no little mischief; and when upbraided for her excess, fled to the woods, to rob and murder passengers. In vain did her guardians endeavour to rescue her from such pursuits; in vain did they try to conceal from her the circumstances which preceded her birth, and even her parentage, pretending that she was the daughter of a mere shepherd, and the offspring of an incestuous connection. But she had seen or dreamt far other things; and, despising her present inaction, she resumed her masculine attire, and joined a band of pirates, of whom, in a short time, she became the chief. Her fame, under the name of Herward, was widely spread. Many were the coasts which she visted and laid waste. At length, coming to the isle of Samsoe, where she heard her father and kindred were buried, she announced to her followers her resolution to go on shore for the purpose of despoiling the tombs of the hidden treasure. They assured her that the whole island was infested by malignant genii—that it was the most dangerous of all places. But nothing could deter her from her purpose. A shepherd, whom she met, wondered at her temerity; told her that she must be ignorant, indeed, of the terrors of the place, since no one could be there after sunset without extreme peril; and invited her to accept of such hospitality as his humble cottage afforded. After that time, he added, the tombs, and the very ground, emitted such flames that no one who remained could be safe. She could not be moved; asserted that if the whole island was on fire, she would not fear; and insisted on knowing the exact spot where the tombs might be found. Amazed at her audacity, and supposing her to be a fool, the shepherd ran home before the departure of the sun should permit the demons to injure him; while she penetrated into the island. She soon reached the dreadful scene. Fires issued from the sepulchres, the inmates of which wandered about; fires issued from the path itself, before, behind, around her. Still she proceeded, with spirit undaunted, until she came to the greatest of the tombs, that which contained the ashes of her father, Angantyr. There she commenced her incantation, which is abridged below.[73] The subsequent adventures of Hervor and this wondrous sword must be briefly related. On her return to the sea-shore, she found that her companions, terrified by the unusual fires and the sudden thunder, had fled. At length, however, a ship bore her to the court of Godmund, an aged king, with whom she remained a short time only, owing to the fatal Tyrfing. As she was one day watching the king and his son at play, she perceived a domestic of the palace draw the weapon which she had left on her seat. Knowing that the prophecy must be fulfilled by the death of some one present, she ran to the domestic, took the weapon from him, killed him, left the palace, and again betook herself to the piratical life. Her fame, both for valour and beauty, was so great, that Hafod, the son of Godmund, solicited and obtained her hand. Of this marriage the issue were Angantyr and Heidrek—the former noted for his excellent, the latter for his mischievous qualities, both far surpassing the rest of mankind in stature and valour. Heidrek was the favourite of Hervor; Angantyr, of her husband; but such were the ill qualities of the younger prince, that by Hafod he was not allowed to remain at court, but was sent away to be educated by one of the heroes of the time. On reaching his eighteenth year, he visited the palace without the consent of his father; but his disposition leading him to embroil the guests in a fatal affray, he was exiled by Hafod, who had succeeded to the throne of Godmund. Hervor, being permitted to bid him adieu, presented him with the magic sword—the best gift in the power of a fond mother to bestow. The prophecy of her father, Angantyr, when she so rashly took it from the tomb, was immediately fulfilled. Heidrek drew it, brandished it, and, whether intentionally or otherwise, slew his brother Angantyr. To escape his father’s anger, which doomed him to death, he fled into the woods, living on the produce of the chase, and pursued by remorse. By his sword he freed king Harald of Sweden from the oppressive sway of two great chiefs. In return, he received the hand of the monarch’s daughter, and by her had a son, whom he called, after his own brother, Angantyr. But the sword Tyrfing was doomed to make sad havock among his connections. In his hands it was soon fatal to Harald, his father-in-law; and this event led his royal bride to hang herself. Some years afterwards he undertook the education of a Norwegian prince, whom he loved. One day, while hunting in the forest, his spear broke, and he immediately drew the formidable Tyrfing. As it could not be returned to the scabbard until it had tasted some blood, and as the prince, only, was with him, the beloved innocent fell beneath the weapon. But it was, at length, fatal to himself. One night, while he was asleep in his tent, his slaves rose, drew Tyrfing, and slew him. His son Angantyr pursued them, slew them by night, and thus recovered the weapon. In the hands of the new possessor it still vindicated its fated character. With it, in open battle, he slew his brother, whom a Swedish princess had born to Heidrek. At length, however, it seems to have been again buried in the tomb of its victim; and, fortunately for the north, no Hervor subsequently arose to charm it from the ghastly hand which held it.[74]
Angantyr, like all his race, was a hero by profession, a champion who fought as much for reputation as for plunder. This institution is one of the most singular features in northern history. Sometimes a champion fought alone, wandering, like the knight errants of a later age, from country to country, not, however, to relieve distressed captives, or to perform any other act of humanity, but to triumph, by strength or dexterity, over the most renowned warriors of the time. Generally, however, these men were members of some fraternity, the guards of some king, whose first duty was to defend his person, on land or sea; their second to humble his enemies, or assist his allies. “The sagas,” observes a modern writer, who has devoted much of his time to northern antiquities, “are filled with duels, or single combats, between these champions and their adversaries, and the scene was generally some little island near the coast. These combats, in which one champion sometimes vanquished and slew many enemies, and which took place also between sea or land kings and champions, were so frequent, that he who was just entering on the career of arms, or who desired to obtain a wider reputation, betook himself to this medium, and without the least motive of hatred or resentment, provoked other champions, other pirates, to fight him. These heroes entered into associations, or fraternities, which they sealed with their blood, and which death only could dissolve. Sometimes they were furnished by the kings or chiefs whom they served with statutes, fixing their number, their privileges, and duties.” In general, the statutes excluded all warriors under eighteen or beyond sixty years of age. The number in each fraternity varied from half a dozen to fifty. Rolf, a prince of Norway, had a famous society of this kind. No man unable to lift a stone, or rather rock, which lay in the court-yard of the prince, and which twelve ordinary men could not raise, was admitted into the body. Lest they should become luxurious, they were forbidden to sleep under a roof; with the same view, they were to shun female society; to inspire them with contempt for pain and danger, they were not to have their wounds dressed before the end of the battle, or to seek a shelter during a storm at sea. But all fraternities were not thus rigorously excluded from intercourse with the fair sex. To most heroes, indeed, the opportunities which the profession afforded of capturing handsome women and rendering them their companions by sea and land, was the chief inducement to embrace it. In such an age, no handsome woman—at least, if high-born—could be safe. By night or day her dwelling might be assailed, her guardians slain, and herself borne to the swift vessel waiting for her. What, indeed, could resist a chief surrounded by so many champions, especially if they happened to be berserks? If there be any truth in history, the strength of these men when the fit came upon them was supernatural.[76] The mischief, however, was, that if they had no enemy before them, they assailed inanimate objects, or even one another. On one occasion, twelve heroes (the sons of Arngrim) fell upon the masts and deck of two ships, which they rent into splinters; and when these were destroyed, they turned their rage against the trees and rocks. On another, a celebrated sea king put to death six out of the twelve champions who accompanied him. Sometimes, too, it happened that the berserks, when under the dominion of their strange frenzy, did not spare themselves. Thus the five sons of Siwald, king of Sweden, were seen to throw themselves into the fire, and to swallow burning pieces of wood.[77]
When these warriors, whether berserks or simple champions, fought for their chief and country, their services were useful. But sometimes it happened that they
