'Earl Brand,' first given to the world by Mr. Robert Bell in 1857, has preserved most of the incidents of a very ancient story with a faithfulness unequalled by any ballad that has been recovered from English oral tradition. Before the publication of 'Earl Brand,' A c, our known inheritance in this particular was limited to the beautiful but very imperfect fragment called by Scott 'The Douglas Tragedy,' B; half a dozen stanzas of another version of the same in Motherwell's Minstrelsy, E; so much of Percy's 'Child of Elle' as was genuine, which, upon the printing of his manuscript, turned out to be one fifth, F; and two versions of Erlinton, A, C.[foot-note] What now can be added is but little: two transcripts of 'Earl Brand,' one of which, A a, has suffered less from literary revision than the only copy hitherto printed, A c; a third version of 'The Douglas Tragedy,' from Motherwell's manuscript, C; a fourth from Kinloch's manuscripts, D; and another of 'Erlinton,' B. Even 'Earl Brand' has lost a circumstance that forms the turning-point in Scandinavian ballads, and this capital defect attends all our other versions, though traces which remain in 'Erlinton' make it nearly certain that our ballads originally agreed in all important particulars with those which are to this day recited in the north of Europe.
The corresponding Scandinavian ballad is 'Ribold and Guldborg,' and it is a jewel that any clime might envy. Up to the time of Grundtvig's edition, in Danmarks gamle Folkeviser, No 82, though four versions had been printed, the only current copy for a hundred and fifty years had been Syv's No 88, based on a broadside of the date 1648, but compounded from several sources; and it was in this form that the ballad became known to the English through Jamieson's translation. Grundtvig has now published twenty-seven versions of 'Ribold og Guldborg' (II, 347 ff, nineteen; 675 ff, four; III, 849 ff, four:[foot-note] of all which only two are fragments), and nine of 'Hildebrand og Hilde,' No 83, which is the same story set in a dramatic frame-work (II, 393 ff, seven: 680 f, one; in, 857, one, a fragment). Three more Danish versions of 'Ribold og Guldborg' are furnished by Kristensen, Gamle jydske Folkeviser, I, No 37, II, No 84 A, B (C*, D*, E*). To these we may add the last half, sts 15-30, of 'Den farlige Jomfru,' Grundtvig, 184 G. Of Grundtvig's texts, 82 A is of the sixteenth century; B-H are of the seventeenth; the remainder and Kristensen's three from recent tradition. Six versions of 'Hildebrand og Hilde,' A-F, are of the seventeenth century; one is of the eighteenth, G; and the remaining two are from oral tradition of our day.
The first six of Grundtvig's versions of 'Ribold and Guldborg,' A-F, are all from manuscripts, and all of a pure traditional character, untampered with by "collators." G and H are mixed texts: they have F for their basis, but have admitted stanzas from other sources. Most of the versions from recitation are wonderful examples and proofs of the fidelity with which simple people "report and hold" old tales: for, as the editor has shown, verses which never had been printed, but which are found in old manuscripts, are now met with in recited copies; and these recited copies, again, have verses that occur in no Danish print or manuscript, but which nevertheless are found in Norwegian and Swedish recitations, and, what is more striking, in Icelandic tradition of two hundred years' standing.
The story in the older Danish ballads runs thus. Ribold, a king's son, sought Guldborg's love in secret. He said he would carry her to a land where death and sorrow came not; where all the birds were cuckoos, and all the grass was leeks, and all the streams ran wine. Guldborg, not indisposed, asked how she should evade the watch kept over her by all her family and by her betrothed. Ribold disguised her in his cloak and armor, B, E, F, and rode off, with Guldborg behind him. On the heath they meet a rich earl [a crafty man, C; her betrothed, D], who asks, Whither away, with your stolen maid? [little page, B, F.] Ribold replies that it is his youngest sister, whom he has taken from a cloister, A, E [sick sister, C; brother, B, F; page, D]. This shift avails nothing; no more does a bribe which he offers for keeping his secret. Report is at once made to her father that Guldborg has eloped with Ribold. Guldborg perceives that they are pursued, and is alarmed. Ribold reassures her, and prepares to meet his foes. He bids Guldborg hold his horse, B, C, E, and, whatever may happen, not to call him by name: "Though thou see me bleed, name me not to death; though thou see me fall, name me not at all!" Ribold cuts down six or seven of her brothers and her father, besides others of her kin; the youngest brother only is left, and Guldborg in an agony calls upon Ribold to spare him, to carry tidings to her mother. No sooner was his name pronounced than Ribold received a mortal wound. He sheathed his sword, and said, Come, wilt thou ride with me? Wilt thou go home to thy mother again, or wilt thou follow so sad a swain? And she answered, I will not go home to my mother again; I will follow thee, my heart's dearest man. They rode through the wood, and not a word came from the mouth of either. Guldborg asked, Why art thou not as glad as before? And Ribold answered, Thy brother's sword has been in my heart. They reached his house. He called to one to take his horse, to another to bring a priest, and said his brother should have Guldborg. But she would not give her faith to two brothers. Ribold died that night, C. Three dead came from Ribold's bower: Ribold and his lief, and his mother, who died of grief! In A Guldborg slays herself, and dies in her lover's arms.
'Hildebrand and Hilde,' A, B, C, D, opens with the heroine in a queen's service, sewing her seam wildly, putting silk for gold and gold for silk. The queen calls her to account. Hilde begs her mistress to listen to her tale of sorrow. She was a king's daughter. Twelve knights had been appointed to be her guard, and one had beguiled her, Hildebrand, son of the king of England. They went off together, and were surprised by her brothers [father, B, C, D]. Hildebrand bade her be of good cheer; but she must not call him by name if she saw him bleed or fall, A, B, D. A heap of knights soon lay at his feet. Hilde forgot herself, and called out, Hildebrand, spare my youngest brother! Hildebrand that instant received a mortal wound, and fell. The younger brother tied her to his horse, and dragged her home. They shut her up at first in a strong tower, built for the purpose, A, B [Swedish A, a dark house], and afterwards sold her into servitude for a church bell. Her mother's heart broke at the bell's first stroke, and Hilde, with the last word of her tale, fell dead in the queen's arms.
The most important deviation of the later versions from the old is exhibited by S and T, and would probably be observed in Q, R, as well, were these complete. S, T are either a mixture of 'Ribold and Guldborg' with 'Hildebrand and Hilde,' or forms transitional between the two. In these Ribold does not live to reach his home, and Guldborg, unable to return to hers, offers herself to a queen, to spin silk and weave gold [braid hair and work gold]. But she cannot sew for grief. The queen smacks her on the cheek for neglecting her needle. Poor Guldborg utters a protest, but gives no explanation, and the next morning is found dead. Singularly enough, the name of the hero in Q, R, S, T, is also an intermediate form. Ribold is the name in all the old Danish copies except C, and that has Ride-bolt. Danish I, K, X, Z, all the Icelandic copies, and Swedish D, have either Ribold or some unimportant variation. Q, R, S, have Ride-brand [T, Rederbrand]. All copies of Grundtvig 83, except Danish G, Swedish C, which do not give the hero's name, have Hilde-brand; so also 82 N, O, P, V, and Kristensen, I, No 37. The name of the woman is nearly constant both in 82 and 83.
The paradise promised Guldborg in all the old versions of 82[foot-note] disappears from the recited copies, except K, M. It certainly did not originally belong to 'Ribold and Guldborg,' or to another Danish ballad in which it occurs ('Den trofaste Jomfru,' Grundtvig, 249 A), but rather to ballads like 'Kvindemorderen,' Grundtvig, 183 A, or 'Liti Kersti,' Landstad, 44, where a supernatural being, a demon or a hillman, seeks to entice away a mortal maid. See No 4, p. 27. In 82 L, N, U, V, Y, Æ, Ø, and Kristensen's copies, the lovers are not encountered by anybody who reports their flight. Most of the later versions, K, L, M, N, P, U, V, Y, Æ, Ø, and Kristensen's three, make them halt in a wood, where Ribold goes to sleep in Guldborg's lap, and is roused by her when she perceives that they are pursued. So Norwegian B, Swedish A, B, C, and 'Hildebrand and Hilde' B. M, Q, R, S, T, Z, have not a specific prohibition of dead-naming, but even these enjoin silence. 83 C is the only ballad in which there is a fight and no prohibition of either kind, but it is clear from the course of the story that the stanza containing the usual injunction has simply dropped out. P is distinguished from all other forms of the story by the heroine's killing herself before her dying lover reaches his house.
The four first copies of 'Hildebrand and Hilde,' as has been seen, have the story of Ribold and Guldborg with some slight differences and some abridgment. There is no elopement in B: the lovers are surprised in the princess' bower. When Hilde has finished her tale, in A, the queen declares that Hildebrand was her son. In B she interrupts the narrative by announcing her discovery that Hildebrand was her brother. C and D have nothing of the sort. There is no fight in E-H. E has taken up the commonplace of the bower on the strand which was forced by nine men.[foot-note] Hildebrand is again the son of the queen, and, coming in just as Hilde has expired, exclaims that he will have no other love, sets his sword against a stone, and runs upon it. H has the same catastrophe. F represents the father as simply showing great indignation and cruelty on finding out that one of the guardian knights had beguiled his daughter, and presently selling her for a new church bell. The knight turns out here again to be the queen's son; the queen says he shall betroth Hille, and Hille faints for joy. G agrees with B as to the surprise in the bower. The knight's head is hewn off on the spot. The queen gives Hilde her youngest son for a husband, and Hilde avows that she is consoled. I agrees with E so far as it goes, but is a short fragment.
There are three Icelandic versions of this ballad, 'Ribbalds kvæði,' Íslenzk Fornkvæði, No 16, all of the seventeenth century. They all come reasonably close to the Danish as to the story, and particularly A. Ribbald, with no prologue, invites Gullbrún "to ride." He sets her on a white horse; of all women she rode best. They have gone but a little way, when they see a pilgrim riding towards them, who hails Ribbald with, Welcome, with thy stolen maid! Ribbald pretends that the maid is his sister, but the pilgrim knows very well it is Gullbrún. She offers her cloak to him not to tell her father, but the pilgrim goes straight to the king, and says, Thy daughter is off! The king orders his harp to be brought, for no purpose but to dash it on the floor once and twice, and break out the strings. He then orders his horse. Gullbrún sees her father come riding under a hill-side, then her eleven brothers, then seven brothers-in-law. She begs Ribbald to spare her youngest brother's life, that he may carry the news to her mother. He replies, I will tie my horse by the reins; you take up your sewing! then three times forbids her to name him during the fight. He slew her father first, next the eleven brothers, then the other seven, all which filled her with compunction, and she cried out, Ribbald, still thy brand! On the instant Ribbald received many wounds. He wiped his bloody sword, saying, This is what you deserve, Gullbrún, but love is your shield; then set her on her horse, and rode to his brother's door. He called out, Here is a wife for you! But Gullbrún said, Never will I be given to two brothers. Soon after Ribbald gave up the ghost. There was more mourning than mirth; three bodies went to the grave in one coffin, Ribbald, his lady, and his mother, who died of grief.
B and C have lost something at the beginning, C starting at the same point as our 'Douglas Tragedy.' The king pursues Ribbald by water. Gullbrún (B) stands in a tower and sees him land. Ribbald gives Gullbrún to his brother, as in A: she lives in sorrow, and dies a maid.
Norwegian. ('Ribold and Guldborg.') A, 'Rikeball og stolt Guðbjörg,' Landstad, 33; B, 'Veneros og stolt Olleber,' Landstad, 34; C, D, E, F, in part described and cited, with six other copies, Grundtvig, III, p. 853 f. The last half of Landstad No 23, stanzas 17-34, and stanzas 18-25 of Landstad 28 B, also belong here. A agrees with the older Danish versions, even to the extent of the paradise. B has been greatly injured. Upon the lady's warning Veneros of the approach of her father, he puts her up in an oak-tree for safety. He warns her not to call him by name, and she says she will rather die first; but her firmness is not put to the test in this ballad, some verses having dropped out just at this point. Veneros is advised to surrender, but dispatches his assailants by eighteen thousands (like Lille brór, in Landstad, 23), and by way of conclusion hews the false Pál greive, who had reported his elopement to Ölleber's father, into as many pieces. He then takes Ölleber on his horse, they ride away and are married. Such peculiarities in the other copies as are important to us will be noticed further on.
('Hildebrand and Hilde.') A, one of two Norwegian copies communicated by Professor Bugge to Grundtvig, III, 857 f, agrees well with Danish E, but has the happy conclusion of Danish F, G, I. The heroine is sold for nine bells. B, the other, omits the bower-breaking of A and Danish E, and ends with marriage.
The Swedish forms of 'Ribold and Guldborg' are: A, 'Hillebrand,' Afzelius, No 2; B, 'Herr Redebold,' and C, 'Kung Vallemo,' Afzelius, No 80; new ed., No 2, 1, 2, 3; D, 'Ribbolt,' Arwidsson, No 78; E, 'Herr Redebold' F, 'Herting Liljebrand,' and G, 'Herr Balder,' in Cavallius and Stephens' manuscript collection; H, 'Kung Walmon,' E. Wigström's Folkdiktning, No 15, p. 33. A, B, C, H, are not markedly different from the ordinary Danish ballad, and this is true also, says Grundtvig, of the unprinted versions, E, F, G. D and G are of the seventeenth century, the others from recent tradition. Ribold is pictured in D as a bold prince, equally versed in runes and arts as in manly exercises. He visits Giötha by night: they slumber sweet, but wake in blood. She binds up his wounds with rich kerchiefs. He rides home to his father's, and sits down on a bench. The king bids his servants see what is the matter, and adds, Be he sick or be he hurt, he got it at Giötha-Lilla's. They report the prince stabbed with sharp pikes within, and bound with silk kerchiefs without. Ribold bids them bury him in the mould, and not blame Giötha-Lilla; "for my horse was fleet, and I was late, and he hurtled me 'gainst an apple-tree" (so Hillebrand in A). E represents the heroine as surviving her lover, and united to a young king, but always grieving for Redebold.
'Hildebrand and Hilde' exists in Swedish in three versions: A, a broadside of the last part of the seventeenth century, now printed in the new edition of Afzelius, p. 142 ff of the notes (the last nine stanzas before, in Danske Viser, III, 438 f); B, Afzelius, No 32, new ed. No 26, C, Arwidsson, No 107, both taken down in this century. In A and B Hillebrand, son of the king of England, carries off Hilla; they halt in a grove; she wakes him from his sleep when she hears her father and seven brothers coming; he enjoins her not to call him by name, which still she does upon her father's being slain [or when only her youngest brother is left], and Hillebrand thereupon receives mortal wounds. He wipes his sword, saying, This is what you would deserve, were you not Hilla. The youngest brother ties Hilla to his horse, drags her home, and confines her in a dark house, which swarms with snakes and dragons (A only). They sell her for a new church bell, and her mother's heart breaks at the first sound. Hilla falls dead at the queen's knee. C has lost the dead-naming, and ends with the queen's promising to be Hilla's best friend.
A detailed comparison of the English ballads, and especially of 'Earl Brand,' with the Scandinavian (such as Grundtvig has made, III, 855 f) shows an unusual and very interesting agreement. The name Earl Brand, to begin with, is in all probability a modification of the Hildebrand found in Danish 82 N, O, P, V, C*, in all versions of Danish 83, and in the corresponding Swedish A. Ell, too, in Percy's fragment, which may have been Ellë earlier, points to Hilde, or something like it, and Erl-inton might easily be corrupted from such a form as the Alibrand of Norwegian B (Grundtvig, III, 858). Hildebrand is the son of the king of England in Danish 83 A-E, and the lady in 'Earl Brand' is the same king's daughter, an interchange such as is constantly occurring in tradition. Stanza 2 can hardly be the rightful property of 'Earl Brand.' Some thing very similar is met with in 'Leesome Brand,' and is not much in place there. For 'old Carl Hood,' of whom more presently, Danish 82 X and Norwegian A, C have an old man, Danish C a crafty man, T a false younker, and Norwegian B and three others "false Pál greive." The lady's urging Earl Brand to slay the old carl, and the answer, that it would be sair to kill a gray-haired man, sts 8, 9, are almost literally repeated in Norwegian A, Landstad, No 33. The knight does slay the old man in Danish X and Norwegian C, and slays the court page in Danish Z, and false Pál greive in Norwegian B, — in this last after the battle. The question, "Where have ye stolen this lady away?" in st. 11, occurs in Danish 82 A, D, E, K, P, R, S, T, Z, in Norwegian B and Icelandic B, and something very similar in many other copies. The reply, "She is my sick sister, whom I have brought from Winchester" [nunnery] , is found almost literally in Danish C, X, Z: "It is my sick sister; I took her yesterday from the cloister." [Danish E, it is my youngest sister from the cloister; she is sick: Danish A, youngest sister from cloister: Danish R and Norwegian B, sister from cloister: Danish S, T, sister's daughter from cloister: Norwegian F, sister from Holstein: Danish P, Icelandic A, Norwegian A, sister.] The old man, crafty man, rich earl, in the Scandinavian ballads, commonly answers that he knows Guldborg very well; but in Danish D, where Ribold says it is a court page he has hired, we have some thing like sts 14, 15: "Why has he such silk-braided hair?" On finding themselves discovered, the lovers, in the Scandinavian ballad, attempt to purchase silence with a bribe: Danish A-I, M, Icelandic and Norwegian A, B. This is not expressly done in 'Earl Brand,' but the same seems to be meant in st. 10 by "I'll gie him a pound." St. 17 is fairly paralleled by Danish S, 18, 19: "Where is Guldborg, thy daughter? Walking in the garden, gathering roses;" and st. 18, by Norwegian B, 15: "You may search without and search within, and see whether Ölleber you can find." The announcement in st. 19 is made in almost all the Scandinavian ballads, in words equivalent to "Ribold is off with thy daughter," and then follows the arming for the pursuit. The lady looks over her shoulder and sees her father coming, as in st. 21, in Danish 82 A, F, H, I, Q, R, T, X, Z, and Norwegian A.
The scene of the fight is better preserved in the Scottish ballads than in 'Earl Brand,' though none of these have the cardinal incident of the death-naming. All the Scottish versions, B-F, and also 'Erlinton,' A, B, make the lady hold the knight's horse: so Danish 82 B, C, E, I, Æ, D*, Icelandic C, Norwegian and Swedish A, and Danish 83 D. Of the knight's injunction, "Name me not to death, though thou see me bleed," which, as has been noted, is kept by nearly every Danish ballad (and by the Icelandic, the Norwegian, and by Swedish 'Ribold and Guldborg,' A, B, C, H, Swedish 'Hildebrand and Hilde,' A, B), there is left in English only this faint trace, in 'Erlinton,' A, B: "See ye dinna change your cheer until ye see my body bleed." It is the wish to save the life of her youngest brother that causes the lady to call her lover by name in the larger number of Scandinavian ballads, and she adds, " that he may carry the tidings to my mother," in Danish 82 A, B, C, E, F, G, H, M, X, 83 B, C, D. Grief for her father's death is the impulse in Danish 82 I, N, O, Q, R, S, Y, Z, Æ, Ø, A*, C*, D*, E*, Swedish A, B, C, H. English A says nothing of father or brother; but in B, C, D, E, it is the father's death that causes the exclamation. All the assailants are slain in 'Erlinton' A, B, except an aged knight [the auldest man], and he is spared to carry the tidings home. 'Erlinton' C, however, agrees with the oldest Danish copies in making the youngest brother the motive of the lady's intervention. It is the fifteenth, and last, of the assailants that gives Earl Brand his death-wound; in Danish H, the youngest brother, whom he has been entreated to spare; and so, apparently, in Danish C and Norwegian A.
The question, "Will you go with me or return to your mother? " which we find in English B, C, D, is met with also in many Danish versions, 82 B, H, K, L, M, N, P, U, Z, Æ, Ø, C*, and Swedish A, B, C. The dying man asks to have his bed made in English B, C, as in Danish 82 B, C, K, L, N, U, X, Æ, Ø, C*, D*, Norwegian A, Swedish A, B, C, H, and desires that the lady may marry his brother in English A, as in nearly all the Danish versions, Icelandic A, B, C, Norwegian C, D, E, Swedish C. He declares her a maiden true in 'Earl Brand,' A c 33, and affirms the same with more particularity in Danish 82 B, C, E, F, G, M, Ø, Icelandic B, C, Norwegian A, C, E, Swedish C. The growth of the rose and brier [bush and brier] from the lovers' grave in English B, C, is not met with in any version of 'Ribold and Guldborg' proper, but 'Den farlige Jomfru' G, Grundtvig, 184, the last half of which, as already remarked, is a fragment of a Ribold ballad, has a linden in place of the rose and brier.
No complete ballad of the Ribold class is known to have survived in German, but a few verses have been interpolated by tradition in the earliest copy of the Ulinger ballad (vv. 47-56), which may almost with certainty be assigned to one of the other description. They disturb the narrative where they are, and a ready occasion for their slipping in was afforded by the scene being exactly the same in both ballads: a knight and a lady, with whom he had eloped, resting in a wood.[foot-note] See No 4, p. 32 of this volume.
We find in a pretty Neapolitan-Albanian ballad, which, with others, is regarded by the editors as a fragment of a connected poem, several of the features of these northern ones. A youth asks a damsel in marriage, but is not favored by her mother, father, or brother. He wins over first the mother and then the father by handsome presents, but his gifts, though accepted, do not conciliate the brother. He carries off the lady on horseback, and is attacked by the brother, four uncles, and seven cousins. He is killed and falls from his horse; with him the lady falls dead also, and both are covered up with stones. In the spring the youth comes up a cypress, the damsel comes up a vine, and encloses the cypress in her arms. (Rapsodie d'un poema albanese raccolte nelle colonie del Napoletano, de Rada and de' Coronei, Florence, 1866, lib. ii., canto viii.)
These ballads would seem to belong among the numerous ramifications of the Hilde saga. Of these, the second lay of Helgi Hunding-slayer, in Sæmund's Edda, and 'Waltharius,' the beautiful poem of Ekkehard, are most like the ballads.[foot-note] Leaving 'Waltharius' till we come to 'Erlinton,' we may notice that Sigrún, in the Helgi lay, though promised by her father to another man, Hödbrodd, son of Granmar, preferred Helgi. She sought him out, and told him frankly her predicament: she feared, she said, the wrath of her friends, for breaking her father's promise. Helgi accepted her affection, and bade her not care for the displeasure of her relatives. A great battle ensued between Helgi and the sons of Granmar, who were aided by Sigrun's father and brothers. All her kinsmen were slain except one brother, Dag. He bound himself to peace with Helgi, but, notwithstanding, made sacrifices to Odin to obtain the loan of his spear, and with it slew Helgi. We have, therefore, in so much of the lay of Helgi Hundingslayer, the groundwork of the story of the ballads: a woman, who, as in many of the Ribold ballads, has been betrothed to a man she does not care for, gives herself to another; there is a fight, in which a great number of her kinsmen fall; one brother survives, who is the death of the man she loves. The lay of Helgi Hiörvard's son, whose story has much in common with that of his namesake, affords two resemblances of detail not found in the lay of the Hundingslayer. Helgi Hiörvard's son, while his life-blood is ebbing, expresses himself in almost the words of the dying Ribold: "The sword has come very near my heart." He then, like Ribold and Earl Brand, declares his wish that his wife should marry his brother, and she, like Guldborg, declines a second union.[foot-note]
There is also a passage in the earlier history of Helgi Hundingslayer of which traces appear to be preserved in ballads, and before all in the English ballad 'Earl Brand,' A. Hunding and Helgi's family were at feud. Helgi introduced himself into Hunding's court as a spy, and when he was retiring sent word to Hunding's son that he had been there disguised as a son of Hagal, Helgi's foster-father. Hunding sent men to take him, and Helgi, to escape them, was forced to assume woman's clothes and grind at the mill. While Hunding's men are making search, a mysterious blind man, surnamed the bale-wise, or evil-witted (Blindr inn bölvísi), calls out, Sharp are the eyes of Hagal's maid; it is no churl's blood that stands at the mill; the stones are riving, the meal-trough is springing; a hard lot has befallen a war-king when a chieftain must grind strange barley; fitter for that hand is the sword-hilt than the mill-handle. Hagal pretends that the fierce-eyed maid is a virago whom Helgi had taken captive, and in the end Helgi escapes. This malicious personage reappears in the Hrômund saga as "Blind the Bad" and "the Carl Blind, surnamed Bavís," and is found elsewhere. His likeness to "old Carl Hood," who "comes for ill, but never for good," and who gives information of Earl Brand's flight with the king's daughter, does not require to be insisted on. Both are identical, we can scarcely doubt, with the blind [one-eyed] old man of many tales, who goes about in various disguises, sometimes as beggar, with his hood or hat slouched over his face, — that is Odin, the Síðhöttr or Deep-hood of Sæmund, who in the saga of Half and his champions is called simple Hood, as here, and expressly said to be Odin.[foot-note] Odin, though not a thoroughly malignant divinity, had his dark side, and one of his titles in Sæmund's Edda is Bölverkr, maleficus. He first caused war by casting his spear among men, and Dag, after he has killed Helgi, says Odin was the author of all the mischief, for he brought strife among kinsmen.[foot-note]
The disastrous effects of "naming" in a great emergency appear in other northern traditions, though not so frequently as one would expect. A diverting Swedish saga, which has been much quoted, relates how St. Olof bargained with a troll for the building of a huge church, the pay to be the sun and moon, or St. Olof himself. The holy man was equally amazed and embarrassed at seeing the building run up by the troll with great rapidity, but during a ramble among the hills had the good luck to discover that the troll's name was Wind and Weather, after which all was easy. For while the troll was on the roof of the church, Olof called out to him,
'Wind and Weather, hi! You've set the spire awry;'
and the troll, thus called by his name, lost his strength, fell off, and was dashed into a hundred pieces, all flint stones. (Iduna, Part 3, p. 60 f, note. Other forms of the same story in Afzelius, Sago-Hafder, III, 100 f; Faye, Norske Folke-Sagn, p. 14, 2d ed.; Hofberg, Nerikes Gamla Minnen, p. 234.)
It is a Norwegian belief that when a nix assumes the human shape in order to carry some one off, it will be his death if the selected victim recognizes him and names him, and in this way a woman escaped in a ballad. She called out, So you are the Nix, that pestilent beast, and the nix "disappeared in red blood." (Faye, as above, p. 49, note.) A nix is baffled in the same way in a Færoe and an Icelandic ballad cited by Grundtvig, II, 57.
The marvellous horse Blak agrees to carry Waldemar [Hildebrand] over a great piece of water for the rescue of his daughter [sister], stipulating, however, that his name shall not be uttered. The rider forgets himself in a panic, calls to the horse by his name, and is thrown off into the water. The horse, whose powers had been supernatural, and who had been running over the water as if it were land, has now only ordinary strength, and is forced to swim. He brings the lady back on the same terms, which she keeps, but when he reaches the land he is bleeding at every hair, and falls dead. (Landstad, 58; Grundtvig, 62; Afzelius, 59, preface; Kristensen, I, No 66.)
Klaufi, a berserker, while under the operation of his peculiar fury, loses his strength, and can no longer wield the weapon he was fighting with, upon Griss's crying out, "Klaufi, Klaufi, be not so mad!" (Svarfdæla Saga, p. 147, and again p. 156 f.) So the blood-thirst of the avenger's sword in the magnificent Danish ballad 'Hævnersværdet' is restrained by naming. (Grundtvig, No 25, st. 35.) Again, men engaged in hamfarir, that is in roving about in the shape of beasts, their proper bodies remaining lifeless the while, must not be called by name, for this might compel them to return at once to their own shape, or possibly prevent their ever doing so. (Kristni Saga, ed. 1773, p. 149. R. T. King, in Notes and Queries, 2d Ser., II, 506.) Grundtvig remarks that this belief is akin to what is related in Fáfnismál (prose interpolation after st. 1), that Sigurd concealed his name by reason of a belief in old times that a dying man's word had great power, if he cursed his foe by name. (D. g. F., II, 340.)
The beautiful fancy of plants springing from the graves of star-crossed lovers, and signify ing by the intertwining of stems or leaves, or in other analogous ways, that an earthly passion has not been extinguished by death, presents itself, as is well known, very frequently in popular poetry. Though the graves be made far apart, even on opposite sides of the church, or one to the north and one to the south outside of the church, or one without kirk wall and one in the choir, however separated, the vines or trees seek one another out, and mingle their branches or their foliage:
"Even from the tomb the voice of Nature cries, Even in our ashes live their wonted fires!"
The principal ballads which exhibit this conception in one or another form are the following:
In English, 'The Douglas Tragedy,' 'Fair Margaret and Sweet William,' 'Lord Thomas and Fair Annet,' 'Fair Janet,' 'Prince Robert,' 'Lord Lovel.' The plants in all these are either a brier and a rose, or a brier and a birk.
Swedish. Arwidsson, No 73: the graves are made east and west of the church, a linden grows from each, the trees meet over the church roof. So E. Wigström, Folkdiktning, No 20, p. 42. Arwidsson 74 A: Rosea Lilla and the duke are buried south and north in the church-yard. A rose from her grave covers his with its leaves. The duke is then laid in her grave, from which a linden springs. 74 B: the rose as before, and a linden from the duke's grave. Arwidsson, 72, 68, Afzelius, No 19 (new ed., 18), 23 (new ed., 21, 1, 2): a common grave, with a linden, two trees, or lilies, and, in the last, roses also growing from the mouths of both lovers. In one version the linden leaves bear the inscription, My father shall answer to me at doomsday.
Norwegian. Landstad, 65: the lovers are laid north and south of the church; lilies grow over the church roof.
Danish. Danske Viser, 124, 153, two roses. Kristensen, II, No 60, two lilies, interlocking over church wall and ridge. 61 B, C (= Afzelius, 19), separate graves; B, a lily from each grave; C, a flower from each breast. Grundtvig, 184 G, 271 N, a linden; Danske Folkeminder, 1861, p. 81, two lilies.
German. 'Der Ritter u. die Maid,' (1) Nicolai, I, No 2, = Kretzschmer, I, 54; (2) Uhland, 97 A, Simrock, 12; (3) Erk's Liederhort, 26; Hoffmann u. Richter, 4: the lovers are buried together, and there grow from their grave (1) three pinks, (2) three lilies, (3) two lilies. Wunderhorn, 1857, I, 53, Mittler, No 91: the maid is buried in the church yard, the knight under the gallows. A lily grows from his grave, with an inscription, Beid wären beisammen im Himmel. Ditfurth, II, 7: two lilies spring from her (or their) grave, bearing a similar inscription. In Haupt and Schmaler, Volkslieder der Wenden, I, 136, from the German, rue is planted on the maid's grave, in accordance with the last words of the knight, and the same inscription appears on one of the leaves.
'Graf Friedrich,' Uhland, 122, Wunderhorn, II, 293, Mittler, 108, Erk's Liederhort, 15 a: Graf Friedrich's bride is by accident mortally wounded while he is bringing her home. Her father kills him, and he is dragged at a horse's heels. Three lilies spring from his grave, with an inscription, Er wär bei Gott geblieben. He is then buried with his bride, the transfer being attended with other miraculous manifestations. Other versions, Hoffmann u. Richter, 19, = Mittler, 112, = Liederhort, 15; Mittler, 113, 114; also Meinert, 23, = Mittler, 109, etc.: the lilies in most of these growing from the bride's grave, with words attesting the knight's innocence.
Lilies with inscriptions also in Wunderhorn, II, p. 251, = Mittler, 128, 'Alle bei Gott die sich lieben;' Mittler, 130; Ditfurth, II, 4, 9; Scherer, Jungbrunnen, 9 A, 25; Pogatschnigg und Hermann, 1458. Three lilies from a maid's grave: 'Die schwazbraune Hexe' ('Es blies ein Jäger'), Nicolai, I, 8; Wunderhorn, I, 36; Gräter's Bragur, I, 280; Uhland, 103; Liederhort, 9; Simrock, 93; Fiedler, p. 158; Ditfurth, II, 33, 34; Reifferscheid, 15, etc. Three roses, Hoffmann u. Richter, 171, p. 194; three pinks, ib., 172; rose, pink, lily, Alemannia, iv, 35. Three lilies from a man's grave: 'Der Todwunde:' Schade, Bergreien, 10, = Uhland, 93 A, = Liederhort, 34 g, = Mittler, 47, etc.
Portuguese. 'Conde Nillo,' 'Conde Nino,' Almeida-Garrett, III, No 18, at p. 21; Braga, Rom. Geral., No 14, at p. 38, = Hartung, I, 217: the infanta is buried at the foot of the high altar, Conde Nillo near the church door; a cypress and an orange [pines]. Almeida-Garrett, III, No 20, at p. 38: a sombre clump of pines over the knight, reeds from the princess's grave, which, though cut down, shoot again, and are heard sighing in the night. Braga, Archip. Açor., 'Filha Maria,' 'Dom Doardos,' 'A Ermida no Mar,' Nos 32, 33, 34, Hartung, I, 220-224; Estacio da Veiga, 'Dom Diniz,' p. 64-67, = Hartung, I, 217, 2: tree and pines, olive and pines, clove-tree and pine, roses and canes: in all, new miracles follow the cutting down. So also Almeida-Garrett, No 6, I, 167.
Roumanian. Alecsandri, 7, Stanley, p. 16, 'Ring and Handkerchief,' translated by Stanley, p. 193, Murray, p. 56: a fir and a vine, which meet over the church.
French. Beaurepaire, Poésie pop. en Normandie, p. 51: a thorn and an olive are planted over the graves; the thorn embraces the olive.
Romaic. Passow, Nos 414, 415, 456, 469; Zambelios, p. 754, No 41; Tommaseo, Canti Popolari, III, 135; Chasiotis, p. 103, No 22: a cypress from the man's grave, a reed from the maid's (or from a common tomb); reversed in Passow, Nos 418, 470, and Schmidt, Griechische Märchen, u.s.w., No 59, p. 203. Sakellarios, p. 25, No 9, cypress and apple-tree; p. 38, No 13, cypress and lemon-tree. (F. Liebrecht, Zur Volkskunde, pp. 166, 168, 182, 183.)
Servian. Talvj, V.L. der Serben, II, p. 85: a fir and a rose; the rose twines round the fir.
Wend. Haupt and Schmaler, V.L. der Wenden, II, No 48: a maid, who kills herself on account of the death of her lover, orders two grape vines to be planted over their graves: the vines intertwine.
Breton. Luzel, I, p. 423: a fleur-de-lis springs from a common tomb, and is always in flower, however often it is plucked.
Italo-Albanian. De Rada, Rapsodie d'un poema albanese, etc., p. 47: the youth comes up (nacque) a cypress; the maid a white vine, which clings around the tree. Camarda, Appendice al saggio di grammatologia comparata, 'Angelina,' p. 112, the same; but inappropriately, as Liebrecht has remarked, fidelity in love being wanting in this case.
Magyar. The lovers are buried before and behind the altar; white and red lilies spring from the tombs; mother or father destroys or attempts to destroy the plants: Aigner, Ungarische Volksdichtungen, 2d ed., at p. 92, p. 138, 131 f. Again, at p. 160, of the 'Two Princes' (Hero and Leander): here a white and a red tulip are planted over the graves, in a garden, and it is expressly said that the souls of the enamored pair passed into the tulips. In the first piece the miracle occurs twice. The lovers had thrown themselves into a deep lake; plants rose above the surface of the water and intertwined (p. 91); the bodies were brought up by divers and buried in the church, where the marvel was repeated.
Afghan. Audam and Doorkhaunee, a poem "read, repeated, and sung, through all parts of the country," Elphinstone's Account of the Kingdom of Caubul, 1815, p. 185 f: two trees spring from their remains, and the branches mingle over their tomb. First cited by Talvj, Versuch, p. 140.
Kurd. Mem and Zin, a poem of Anméd Xáni, died 1652-3: two rose bushes spring from their graves and interlock. Bulletin de la classe des sciences historiques, etc., de l'acad. impér. des sciences de St. Pet., tome xv, No 11, p. 170.
The idea of the love-animated plants has been thought to be derived from the romance of Tristan, where it also occurs; agreeably to a general principle, somewhat hastily assumed, that when romances and popular ballads have anything in common, priority belongs to the romances. The question as to precedence in this instance is an open one, for the fundamental conception is not less a favorite with ancient Greek than with mediaeval imagination.
Tristan and Isolde had unwittingly drunk of a magical potion which had the power to induce an indestructible and ever-increasing love. Tristan died of a wound received in one of his adventures, and Isolde of a broken heart, because, though summoned to his aid, she arrived too late for him to profit by her medical skill. They were buried in the same church. According to the French prose romance, a green brier issued from Tristan's tomb, mounted to the roof, and, descending to Isolde's tomb, made its way within. King Marc caused the brier to be cut down three several times, but the morning after it was as flourishing as before.[foot-note]
Eilhart von Oberge, vv. 9509-21 (ed. Lichtenstein, Quellen u. Forschungen, xix, 429) and the German prose romance (Busching u. von der Hagen, Buch der Liebe, c. 60), Ulrich von Thürheim, vv. 3546-50, and Heinrich von Freiberg, vv. 6819-41 (in von der Hagen's ed. of G. v. Strassburg's Tristan) make King Marc plant, the first two a grape-vine over Tristan and a rose over Isolde, the others, wrongly, the rose over Tristan and the vine over Isolde. These plants, according to Heinrich, struck their roots into the hearts of the lovers below, while their branches embraced above. Icelandic ballads and an Icelandic saga represent Tristan's wife as forbidding the lovers to be buried in the same grave, and ordering them to be buried on opposite sides of the church. Trees spring from their bodies and meet over the church roof. (Íslenzk Fornkvæði, 23 A, B, C, D; Saga af Tristram ok Ísönd, Brynjulfson, p. 199; Tristrams Saga ok Ísondar, Kölbing, p. 112). The later Titurel imitates the conclusion of Tristan. (Der jüngere Titurel, ed. Hahn, sts 5789, 5790.)
Among the miracles of the Virgin there are several which are closely akin to the prodigies already noted. A lily is found growing from the mouth of a clerk, who, though not leading an exemplary life, had every day said his ave before the image of Mary: Unger, Mariu Saga, No 50; Berceo, No 3; Miracles de N.-D. de Chartres, p. lxiii, No 29, and p. 239; Marien-legenden (Stuttgart, 1846), No xi and p. 269. A rose springs from the grave and roots in the heart of a knight who had spared the honor of a maid because her name was Mary: Unger, No clvi, Hagen's Gesammtabenteuer, lxxiii. Roses inscribed Maria grow from the mouth, eyes, and ears of a monk: Unger, cxxxvii; and a lily grows over a monk's grave, springing from his mouth, every leaf of which bears Ave Maria in golden letters: Unger, cxxxviii; Gesammtabenteuer, lxxxviii; Libro de Exenplos, Romania, 1878, p. 509, 43, 44; etc., etc.
No one can fail to be reminded of the purple, lily-shaped flower, inscribed with the mournful AI AI, that rose from the blood of Hyacinthus, and of the other from the blood of Ajax, with the same letters, "his name and eke his plaint," haec nominis, illa querellae. (Ovid, Met. x, 210 ff; xiii, 394 ff.) The northern lindens have their counterpart in the elms from the grave of Protesilaus, and in the trees into which Philemon and Baucis were transformed. See, upon the whole subject, the essay of Koberstein in the Weimar Jahrbuch, I, 73 ff, with Köhler's supplement, p. 479 ff; Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, II, 689 f, and III, 246.
"The ballad of the 'Douglas Tragedy,'" says Scott, "is one of the few to which popular tradition has ascribed complete locality. The farm of Blackhouse, in Selkirkshire, is said to have been the scene of this melancholy event. There are the remains of a very ancient tower, adjacent to the farm-house, in a wild and solitary glen, upon a torrent named Douglas burn, which joins the Yarrow after passing a craggy rock called the Douglas craig. . . . From this ancient tower Lady Margaret is said to have been carried by her lover. Seven large stones, erected upon the neighboring heights of Blackhouse, are shown, as marking the spot where the seven brethren were slain; and the Douglas burn is averred to have been the stream at which the lovers stopped to drink: so minute is tradition in ascertaining the scene of a tragical tale, which, considering the rude state of former times, had probably foundation in some real event."
The localities of the Danish story were as certained, to her entire satisfaction, by Anne Krabbe in 1605-6, and are given again in Resen's Atlas Danicus, 1677. See Grundtvig, II, 342 f.
B, Scott's 'Douglas Tragedy,' is translated by Grundtvig, Engelske og skotske Folkeviser, No 11; Afzelius, III, 86; Schubart, p. 159; Talvj, p. 565; Wolff, Halle, I, 76, Hausschatz, p. 201; Rosa Warrens, No 23; Gerhard, p. 28; Loève Veimars, p. 292.
'Ribold og Guldborg,' Danish B, is translated by Buchanan, p. 16 (loosely); G by Jamieson, Illustrations, p. 317, and Prior, II, 400; T by Prior, II, 407; Swedish A, For. Quart. Rev., xxv, 41. 'Hildebrand og Hilde,' Danish A, B, F, H, by Prior, II, 411-20.
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