|34 to 220.|
By the death of Swegdir, Vanland became the acknowledged head of the Swiones. He was the first of Odin’s descendants who exhibited a warlike character, or rather the first that actually went to war. In the infancy of this theocratic state, when, through weakness, it was compelled to cultivate the good will of its neighbours, of conquest there was no dream; but when the young lion had gained strength, its natural character was unfolded. His conquests, however, have not been recorded; and we can only conjecture that they were chiefly in the provinces bounding on Upland. Nor do we know that it was a warlike expedition that led him into Finland. That country, however, was to him a fatal as well as a romantic one, While there he married the daughter of an old Swede established among the Finns. Her he soon left, with the promise of returning in three years; but ten having elapsed without any tidings of him, she sent Visbur, their son, to his palace at Upsal. Still, as he showed no disposition to visit her, she took counsel with Hulda, a famous witch—and Finland was full of them—how she might compel him to return. The witch readily undertook to bring him, or, if she failed, to destroy him. Her secret charms were immediately exerted, and Vanland, though enthroned at Upsal with the attributes of a demi-god, felt their power. On a sudden his heart was drawn towards Finland; the impulse to return was scarcely resistible: but his friends and counsellors dissuaded him from the voyage, assuring him that he was merely under the temporary influence of magic. Sleep now overcame him; but scarcely was he laid on his couch than he cried out that he was oppressed by that mysterious demon, the nightmare. His attendants hastened to assist him, but in vain: the power of the demon was resistless; and, after violent distortions of his limbs, he was suffocated. His body was burned; on the banks of the Skuta his mighty cairn was erected; and Visbur became the monarch of the Swedes. This prince was not more faithful, as a husband, than his father had been. Having married a lady by whom he had two sons, he unceremoniously dismissed her and them to her father, and took another to his bed. The offspring of this second marriage was Domald, whom his nurse, foreseeing that dangers menaced him, endeavoured to protect by incantations. In the mean time, Gisle and Ondur, sons of the repudiated queen, applied to Visbur for the restoration of their mother’s dowry, especially of a magnificent golden necklace; on his refusal, they prayed that the ornament might be his destruction, and that of his offspring. To effect this object, they had recourse to magic; and Hulda, who had destroyed the father, boasted that she would destroy him, and leave this doom to the whole of the Ynglings—that either their arms should always be turned against one another, or they should perish tragically by some other means. The operations of magic, however, were too slow for their impatience; and they burned their father with the house in which they found him. Domald succeeded; but the fates were not to be averted. During three years a grievous famine afflicted Sweden. The first autumn, oxen were offered to propitiate the gods; the second, human victims bled on the altar. When neither availed, the nobles and priests, assembled at Upsal, decreed that, as the famine was owing to king Domald, he should be the next sacrifice, and the decree was carried into effect. Of the two next kings, Domar, the son of Domald, and Dygve, the son of Domar, nothing is recorded except that they reigned and died; but Dag the Wise, the son of the last-named sovereign, is celebrated in northern history. Well might he enjoy the epithet, if, as tradition asserts, he understood the language of birds. He had a sparrow which performed the same office for him that the ravens did for Odin[126]; it flew over the earth and brought him intelligence of everything that passed. One day, however, as this bird was picking some grains in a field of Redgothia, a country clown killed it with a stone. Finding that his bird did not return, Dag consulted the gods, and learned its fate. To avenge himself, he led an army against the Goths, and laid waste the region in which the misfortune had happened. Having taken many prisoners, and left many dead on the field, he was returning to his vessels, when a dart from an obscure hand sent him to the halls of Odin.[127]
|220 to 448.|
Agne, the son of Dag, mounted the vacant throne of the Swedes. Rich and warlike, he was held in high esteem; but the fate which hung over the sacred line of the Ynglings made him another of its victims. In a successful expedition against the Finns, in which he had slain the Finnish king, and, agreeably to the manners of the times, had made Skiolfa, the orphan daughter of the king, his mistress or wife, he had just returned to Stocksund, disembarked his troops, and pitched his tent on the margin of a wood. Here, to perform with passing splendour the last rites to the memory of Skiolfa’s father, he assembled a great number of guests. The cup went round until the king became intoxicated. As he wore the chain which had belonged to Visbur, Skiolfa besought him to confide the precious ornament to her care; but he fastened it the more closely round his neck and fell asleep. The tent was at the foot of a tree, and Skiolfa, assisted by her Finnish connections, tied a strong cord to the ornament, threw one end over a branch of the tree, and pulling with all their might, the body of Agne was raised, and left to dangle in the nightly breeze. The following morning Skiolfa and her companions were on their voyage to Finland, and nothing remained to the Swedes but the performance of the last rites to the royal victim. Alaric or Elrac and Eric, his two sons, divided the supreme power between them. For a season they were prosperous; but they were doomed to share the fate which hung over the house of Yngve. They were fond of equestrian exercises, especially of taming the most spirited horses. One day they rode at full gallop over an extensive plain; but they were never again seen alive: their corpses were found with their sculls fractured; and, as neither had any arms, it was supposed that they had killed each other with the reins, or that some malignant demon had destroyed them both. Yngve and Alf, the sons of Alaric, shared the government of the Swedes; but they were dissimilar in character. The latter was studious of peace, a man of few words, and severe in manner; the former was fond of war, of his cups, and of conversation, and often protracted his orgies into the silence of night. Two such men, whose jealousy was further increased by the unwise division of power, could not long bear the society of each other. One evening Yngve stabbed his brother; but the victim had strength enough left to return the fatal blow. The supreme power was now held by one, Hugleik, the son of Alf. His end, too, was tragical. Being assailed by Hako, a celebrated sea king and Danish jarl, who numbered among his captains the unrivalled Sterkodder[128], he was vanquished and slain—Snorro assures us by the hands of Hako; but it was, perhaps, by those of Sterkodder. The victor was not satisfied with the death of Hugleik: he subdued the Swiones, and forced them to acknowledge him as their king. Yet he is not ranked by the Icelandic writers among the lawful kings of the Swedes. He was a usurper whom Jorund and Eric, both sons, both sea