and this dreadful doom was to remain in force until he had propitiated the divine wrath by frequent sacrifices. The mandate was not to be despised; during the course of a year altars perpetually smoked with oxen immolated to Fro, the awful deity of the winds.[21]
The life of Hadding was full of portents and marvels. Scarcely had he rescued the princess Regnilda of Norway from the obligation of marrying a giant, by killing the monster, and making her his bride, than a most wonderful adventure befell him. One winter evening, as he was supping with his bride, a woman like a culler of simples was seen to raise her head from the ground close by the hearth, and inquired whether the king did not wish to know where such herbs grew at that season of the year. He replied, that he should very much wish to know. Hearing this, she enveloped him in his own mantle, and sank with him into the ground. What they saw in this subterranean journey bears some resemblance to the descriptions which have been given us of the Scandinavian world of spirits. They first entered a dark path, worn out by the feet of many travellers, and here they perceived some great ones of the earth—some in purple and gold—whose doom appeared to consist in their indefinite windings. Passing them, they entered a region of some fertility, whence the woman had derived her simples. Farther still, they reached a river of precipitate course and black waters, which rolled along the weapons of many heroes, and over which a bridge conducted them to a different region. One of the first objects that met their eyes was two armies engaged in deadly strife. “Who are these?” demanded Hadding. “These,” replied the sorceress, “are they who fell in battle; and it is their delight in this world continually to imitate their martial deeds in the other.” At length they reached a high wall, totally impassable. The woman, indeed, made no attempt to scale it; but, twisting off the head of a cock which she had brought with her, she threw it over; when, behold! the cock began to crow as if nothing had been done to it! Unable to proceed further, the adventurous travellers returned to the palace.[22]
The rest of this monarch’s life must be hastily despatched. He triumphed over Uffo, who fell in battle, and bestowed the vacant throne of Sweden on Hunding, brother of the deceased monarch. His last days were embittered by the unnatural conduct of his daughter Ulwilda, who, with her husband, planned his destruction. Though he escaped all the snares of his enemies, at length he laid violent hands upon himself, leaving the throne of Denmark, and the superiority over that of Sweden, to his eldest son, Frode I.[23]
Frode I. was also a great warrior, and he carried his depredations from Russia to the British islands, on which, unfortunately for the natives, he made a longer stay than kings, whose sole object was plunder, were accustomed to make. If there were any truth in the Danish account of this period, Scotland and South Britain were in frequent intercourse with the northern kingdom—sometimes for war and sometimes for peace. But these accounts are all to be distrusted. Events which happened at a much later period have been removed to the one before us; and the basis has been so much overlaid by fable, that no ingenuity can separate the true from the false.—When Frode commenced his reign, he found the treasury empty. How replenish it? By an expedient frequently to be found in Scandinavian legends. On a solitary island, a dragon, formidable alike for size and venom, brooded over immense riches. The youthful monarch hastened to the spot, entered the cave, fought and killed the serpent, and brought away the golden hoard. Whether there be any meaning in this and similar fables has been much disputed: probably, however, it had a foundation, and the dragon may have been some terrible pirate whom Frode destroyed, and whose subterraneous riches he seized. This unexpected supply, we are told, enabled him to pursue his expeditions on various coasts of Europe. But we have no inclination to follow him. We may, however, allude to the way in which he gained possession of London; because the same expedient is often to be found in northern writers. Despairing of the reduction of a place so well defended, he caused a report to be spread that he had suddenly died in his tent. Permission was asked to bury him in one of the temples of the city, and was granted. On the day appointed, the pretended corpse was borne through the gates; a great number of Danes attended to do honour to their monarch; but, under the garb of mourning, they hid their weapons of war; and, on a signal being given, they threw off the mockery of woe, assailed the Britons, and took the city by surprise.[24]
Of the immediate successors of this monarch little is known. Haldan, his son, was a great warrior, who put his own brother to death, and was hated by the people. Roe, the son of Haldan, was a quiet prince, mean in stature, but with a mind whose care it was to make his subjects happy. Helge[25], his brother and successor, with whom, during his own life, he had shared the throne, was also a prince of great qualities; but his vices were still greater. “Whether his lust or his tyranny were more intolerable,” says the historian, “is very doubtful.” His amours are too disgusting to be recorded. At length, seeing the execration in which he was held, he bade adieu to his country; and it proved a final adieu. According to report, he fell on his own sword. In the reigns of these princes, we have no mention of the Norwegian sovereigns; but those of Sweden—let us not forget that it is a Dane who writes—are represented as still dependent on Denmark.[26] Rolf (or Rollo) succeeded his father, and was much beloved by his subjects.[27] He fell through the treachery of a brother-in-law, who was excited to the deed by the sister of Rolf. Daughters conspiring against fathers, sisters against brothers, wives against husbands, are among the common events of Scandinavian history. As this prince died without issue, the Danish states elected for their monarch Hoder, a descendant of the famous Hadding, who had been educated by Gewar, a king of Norway. As it is in the reign of this latter monarch that Odin is again introduced on the stage of northern history—his first appearance being referred by Saxo to the time of Hadding—we can no longer refuse to notice what antiquity records with respect to him. In this, as in other parts of this introduction, the reader may admit or reject what he pleases.[28]
According to Saxo, this personage was a mortal, king of the Hellespont, who laid claim to the honours of divinity, and was actually worshipped by most of Europe. His profound knowledge of magic procured him the character. His ordinary residence was Byzantium; but he held Upsal, which he frequently visited, in much esteem. Anxious to testify their respect for this new deity, the kings of the north cast a golden statue in his honour, adorned it with bracelets and other costly ornaments, and sent it to Byzantium. It was received by Odin with great joy, and placed in the temple of the gods. But Frigga, the wife of Odin, whom Saxo judges to be quite worthy of such a husband, stript the statue of its ornaments to adorn herself. The incensed deity hung the mechanics who acted by her orders; and, for greater security, placed the image on a high pedestal, and, by his wonderful art, rendered it vocal to human touch. But when was female vanity cured? To secure the aid of a domestic of the temple, Frigga did not hesitate to grant him the last favour; and, by his aid, the gold being again abstracted, again adorned her person. This twofold injury was too much for a god to withstand; and Odin left the country for a season, until the public discourse, like a nine days’ wonder, had evaporated itself into empty air. During his absence, several persons—probably priests of his own temple—arrogated to themselves the attributes of divinity. These, on his return, he forced not only to lay down their borrowed honours, but to flee from the country. Among them, one is mentioned whose case affords a curious illustration of popular superstition. Mitothin was a great magician, and had long enjoyed the favour of the gods. But they were incensed with his impiety, while he no longer paid them the slightest homage. On the return of Odin he fled to Fionia, and was killed by the inhabitants. In his tomb, however, he was amply revenged: he introduced into the whole region various kinds of plague; he destroyed multitudes of the inhabitants; until they, one day, opened his sepulchre, exhumed his body, cut off his head, and drove a stake through the corpse: then the mysterious visitation was at an end. He is, probably, the first vampire on record.[29]
The account of Snorro Sturleson, who followed Norwegian, not Danish authorities, differs in many respects from the preceding. He informs us that the seat of Odin’s power, both temporal and spiritual, was Asgard, a place of extraordinary sanctity east of the Tanais. Over the temple were twelve pontiffs, whose duty was the twofold one of sacrificing and administering the laws: they were called driar or drottnar—lords—and were held in much veneration. At the head of this theocratic state was
