We have the authority of Procopius(b), that the women in those countries were remarkable for beauty, and that those of the Goths and Vandals were the finest that ever had been seen in Italy; and we have the authority of Crantz, that chastity was in high estimation among the Danes, Swedes, and other Scandinavians. When these facts are added to those above mentioned, it will not be thought strange, that love between the sexes, even among that rude people, was a pure and elevated passion. That it was in fact such, is certain, if history can be credited, or the sentiments of a people expressed in their poetical compositions. I begin with the latter, as evidence the most to be relied on. The ancient Poems of Scandinavia contain the warmest expressions of love and regard for the female sex. In an ode of King Regner<481> Lodbrog, a very ancient poem, we find the following sentiments. “We fought with swords upon a promontory of England, when I saw ten thousand of my foes rolling in the dust. A dew of blood distilled from our swords: the arrows, that flew in search of the helmets, hissed through the air. The pleasure of that day was like the clasping a fair virgin in my arms.” Again, “A young man should march early to the conflict of arms; in which consists the glory of the warrior. He who aspires to the love of a mistress, ought to be dauntless in the clash of swords.” These Hyperboreans, it would appear, had early learned to combine the ideas of love and of military prowess; which is still more conspicuous in an ode of Harald the Valiant, of a later date. That prince, who figured in the middle of the eleventh century, traversed all the seas of the north, and made piratical incursions even upon the coasts of the Mediterranean. In this ode he complains, that the glory he had acquired made no impression on Elissir, daughter to Jarislas, King of Russia. “I have made the tour of Sicily. My brown vessel, <482> full of mariners, made a swift progress. My course I thought would never slacken—and yet a Russian maiden scorns me. The troops of Drontheim, which I attacked in my youth, exceeded ours in number. Terrible was the conflict: I left their young king dead on the field—and yet a Russian maiden scorns me. Six exercises I can perform: I fight valiantly: firm is my seat on horseback: inured I am to swimming: swift is my motion on scates: I dart the lance: I am skilful at the oar—and yet a Russian maiden scorns me. Can she deny, this young and lovely maiden, that near a city in the south I joined battle, and left behind me lasting monuments of my exploits?—and yet a Russian maiden scorns me. My birth was in the high country of Norway, famous for archers: but ships were my delight; and, far from the habitations of men, I have traversed the seas from north to south—and yet a Russian maiden scorns me.” In the very ancient poem of Havamaal, mentioned above, there are many expressions of love to the fair sex. “He who would gain the love<483> of a maiden, must address her with smooth speeches, and showy gifts. It requires good sense to be a skilful lover.” Again, “If I aspire to the love of the chastest virgin, I can bend her mind, and make her yield to my desires.” The ancient Scandinavian chronicles present often to our view young warriors endeavouring to acquire the favour of their mistresses, by boasting of their accomplishments, such as their dexterity in swimming and scating, their talent in poetry, their skill in chess, and their knowing all the stars by name. Mallet, in the introduction to his history of Denmark, mentions many ancient Scandinavian novels that turn upon love and heroism. These may be justly held as authentic evidence of the manners of the people: it is common to invent facts; but it is not common to attempt the inventing manners.
It is an additional proof of the great regard paid to women in Scandinavia, that in Edda, the Scandinavian Bible, female deities make as great a figure as male deities.
Agreable to the manners described, we<484> find it universally admitted among the ancient Scandinavians, that beauty ought to be the reward of courage and military skill. A warrior was thought entitled to demand in marriage any young woman, even of the highest rank, if he overcame his rivals in single combat: nor was it thought any hardship on the young lady, to be yielded to the victor. The ladies were not always of that opinion; for the stoutest fighter is not always the handsomest man, nor the most engaging. And in the histories of Denmark, Sweden, and Norway, many instances are related, of men generously interposing to rescue young beauties from brutes, destitute of every accomplishment but strength and boldness. Such stories have a fabulous air; and many of them probably are mere fables. Some of them, however, have a strong appearance of truth: men are introduced who make a figure in the real history of the country; and many circumstances are related that make links in the chain of that history, Take the following specimen. The ambassadors of Frotho, King of Denmark, commissioned to demand in marriage the daughter of a King<485> of the Huns, were feasted for three days, as the custom was in ancient times; and being admitted to the young Princess, she rejected the offer; “Because,” says she, “your King has acquired no reputation in war, but passes his time effeminately at home.” In Biorner’s collection of ancient historical monuments, mentioned above, there is the following history. Charles King of Sweden kept on foot an army of chosen men. He had a daughter named Inguegerda, whose lively and graceful accomplishments were admired still more than her birth and fortune. The breast of the King overflowed with felicity. Grymer, a youth of noble birth, knew to dye his sword in the blood of his enemies, to run over craggy mountains, to wrestle, to play at chess, and to trace the motions of the stars. He studied to show his skill in the apartment of the damsels, before the lovely Inguegerda. At length he ventured to open his mind. “Wilt thou, O fair Princess! accept of me for a husband, if I obtain the King’s consent?” “Go,” says she, “and supplicate my father.” The courtly youth respectfully addressing the King, said, “O<486> King! give me in marriage thy beautiful daughter.” He answered sternly, “Thou hast learned to handle thy arms: thou hast acquired some honourable distinctions: but hast thou ever gained a victory, or given a banquet to savage beasts that rejoice in blood?” “Where shall I go, O King! that I may dye my sword in crimson, and render myself worthy of being thy son-in-law?”—“Hialmar, son of Harec,” said the King, “who governs Biarmland, has become terrible by a keen sword: the firmest shields he hews in pieces, and loads his followers with booty. Go, and prove thy valour by attacking that hero: cause him to bite the dust, and Inguegerda shall be thy reward.” Grymer, returning to his fair mistress, saluted her with ardent looks of love. “What answer hast thou received from the King?” “To obtain thee I must deprive the fierce Hialmar of life.” Inguegerda exclaimed with grief, “Alas! my father hath devoted thee to death.” Grymer selected a troop of brave warriors, eager to follow him. They launch their vessels into the wide ocean: they unfurl the sails, <487> which catch the springing gale: the shrouds rattle: the waves foam, and dash against the prows: they steer their numerous vessels to the shore of Gothland; bent to glut the hungry raven, and to gorge the wolf with prey. Thus landed Grymer on Gothland! and thus did a beauteous maiden occasion the death of many heroes. Hialmar demanded who the strangers were. Grymer told his name; adding, that he had spent the summer in quest of him. “May your arrival,” replied Hialmar, “be fortunate; and may health and honour attend you. You shall partake of my gold, with the unmixed juice of the grape.” “Thy offers,” said Grymer, “I dare not accept. Prepare for battle; and let us hasten to give a banquet to beasts of prey.” Hialmar laid hold of his white cuirass, his sword, and his buckler. Grymer, with a violent blow of his sabre, transfixes Hialmar’s shield, and cuts off his left hand. Hialmar enraged, brandishes his sword, and striking off Grymer’s helmet and cuirass, pierces his breast and sides: an effusion of blood follows. Grymer raising his sabre with both hands, lays<488> Hialmar prostrate on the ground; and he himself sinks down upon the dead body of his adversary. He was put on shipboard, and when landed seemed to be at the last period of life. The distressed Princess undertook his cure; and restored him to health. They were married with great solemnity; and the beauteous bride of Grymer filled the heart of her hero with unfading joy.
According to the rude manners of those times, a lover