S. A. Dunham - History of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway (Vol. 1&2)

It was now Eyvor’s turn to be anxious. Might not a warrior, still more valiant than her husband, arrive, and render her, like her mother, a forsaken widow? Might not the weapon which had cost her father his life prove equally fatal to one dearer? Often did she request him to bury it under ground; but he was in no humour to part with his most valued treasure, especially as it enabled him to return invincible from all his expeditions. Her fears, however, for him were vain: they should have been excited for her twelve sons, whom she bore in twelve years after her marriage, and who were all warriors—all berserks—all doomed to an early grave. One of them vowed to the god Braga that he would have to wife the princess Ingburga, or perish in the attempt. As all were brothers in arms no less than brothers in blood, all bound to assist each individual of the number, to make the cause of each a common cause, they took the same view. Arngrim, now waxen in years, took his leave of them with a heavy heart; he felt that he must see them no more; and his only consolation was, that when the Nornies, or fatal sisters, call, they will be obeyed. They had to fight on the desert isle of Samsoe with two heroes, Hialmar and Oddur, each at the head of a hundred Swedes, and each renowned for prowess throughout the north. The former, too, was the accepted lover of Ingburga, accepted by her father no less than by herself. On their way to the island, the eldest of Arngrim’s twelve sons, Angantyr, took to wife Swafa, the daughter of a celebrated jarl, and their course was much delayed by the festivities demanded on the occasion. This jarl had the same dark forebodings as their own father. Fain would he have persuaded them to remain with them; but their honour would not allow of this, and away they sailed. On their landing at the place appointed, their accustomed fit seized them, and they destroyed the 200 followers of Hialmar and Oddur, who were then absent in the interior of the island. Mighty was the destruction, by Tyrfing, which was wielded by the powerful Angantyr, and which, on this occasion, might truly be called the death of men. Hialmar and Oddur soon returned to find their companions drenched in gore; but, fortunately for the two heroes, the strength of the berserks was now greatly diminished—in other words, the fit was over, and they were become like other men. Still the magic sword and the superiority of numbers compensated to the sons of Arngrim for their somewhat exhausted spirits. They would have more than compensated had not Oddur worn a quilted coat, which magic rendered impenetrable to the keenest weapon. The conflict soon engaged. On the one hand, Hialmar was opposed to Angantyr with the magic sword; on the other, Oddur, with the magic quilt, encountered, one by one in succession, the eleven brothers of Angantyr. After a terrible struggle of some length, Hialmar fell, pierced by the dreaded Tyrfing, but Angantyr also received a mortal wound, and Oddur slew all his eleven antagonists. The dead were buried by the only survivor, the fatal sword being buried along with Angantyr, according to the last request of that hero. [72]

The widow of Angantyr bemoaned the death of her valiant husband. For a time she refused consolation; but finding 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]