[In the following excerpt, Sandbach explores Middle English and Modern English literary works that may have been influenced by or adapted from the Nibelungenlied.]

…—In the literature of the Middle English period there is, so far as I know, only one reference to the Nibelungen story that can be looked upon as at all certain. This was pointed out by Professor W. P. Ker in Folk Lore, ix. 372, and occurs in the metrical romance of “Sir Degravant,” in the following passage (vv. 525 ff.):—

Y hade leve she were myne b Thane alle the gold in the Reyne b ffausoned one florene, b She is myne so dere.

(MS. drere)

Whatever the third of these lines means, the second clearly contains a reference to the Nibelungen Hoard. But such an expression may be only proverbial, and point to an earlier rather than a contemporary knowledge of the story.

Worth noticing here is one other passage in Middle English literature first remarked by Weber in the “Illustrations of Northern Antiquities,” (cf. p. 82). It consists of an interesting parallel to Gunther and Brunhild's wedding-night scene, and occurs in the metrical romance of “Sir Bevis of Hampton,” the Auchinleck MS. of which dates from the first quarter of the fourteenth century. The English versions are derived from a French source, similar to the Anglo-Norman Boeve de Haumtone, but Bevis was originally an English hero.

After an adventurous career in the East, Sir Bevis brings back to Europe a lady, Josian, who is to become his wife. Leaving her at Cologne, he proceeds to his home in the Isle of Wight for the purpose of driving out his villainous old stepfather, and thus gives a certain unscrupulous Earl Miles an opportunity of wooing Josian. Eventually forced into marrying him, she determines at all costs to remain faithful to her betrothed; on retiring for the night she persuades Miles to dismiss the attendants, attacks him unawares, and strangles him with her girdle. According to the Anglo-Norman poem (ed. A. Stimming, Der anglonormannische Boeve de Haumtone: Halle, 1899), she throws the girdle over his head, pulls, and breaks his neck (vv. 2110-2116). In the English versions, however, the parallel to the scene in the Nibelungenlied is closer, for Josian carries the girdle over a curtain pole (or, as one MS. has it, a beam), and leaves the corpse hanging all night (cf. E. Kölbing's edition, “The Romance of Sir Beues of Hamtoun” (London, 1894); vv. 3219-3224). Summaries of the poem are to be found in J. Ashton's “Romances of Chivalry” (London, ²1890), and G. Ellis's “Early English Metrical Romances” (London, ²1848).

Although it is safer to assume that this parallel is accidental, or that the motive was in existence before its application in the two poems, the faint possibility remains, that either the author or the translator of “Sir Bevis” borrowed it from a version of the Nibelungen tradition. It is to be observed, too, that a reminiscence of Germanic saga appears in another part of the romance (Auchinleck MS., 2605) where Wade, presumably the fierce old Wate of Gudrun, is mentioned.

…—All knowledge of the Nibelungen saga having died out, as may fairly be assumed, early in the Middle English, or even in the Old English period, the story remained unknown in this country until its reimportation by Weber in his “Northern Antiquities.” His book was known and appreciated probably by only a select few, on whom, however, its influence was considerable, not least, as we have seen, on Carlyle. The general tendency of this influence was, however, scientific and scholarly. Weber's readers developed an interest which led them to study the Nibelungenlied and other Old German poems in the original, or in translation, and in some cases to communicate the results of their study to the public in essays and articles. This has, indeed, been the tendency even up to the present; a purely literary use of the saga material, or of any part of it, has been quite exceptional.

The earliest adaptation of the story in this sense is in the anonymous Popular Tales and Romances of the Northern Nations¹ (London, 1823), one of which is entitled, The Hoard of the Nibelungen, vol. iii. 199-250). The whole book is of the ghostly romantic type so much in vogue early in the last century, and the tales are written in a style suggestive of winter evenings and bated breath. The opening of The Hoard of the Nibelungen affords a good illustration:—

“It was a gloomy autumnal night, as the moon, sinking amidst dark clouds, cast a fearful light upon the ruins of the fortress of Worms on the Adda, before which two sentinels were pacing to and fro, being stationed there in order to prevent the approach of any one towards the treasures which were supposed to be concealed within the vaults of the ancient castle.”

Soon after the ghost of Monk Ilsan² appears and rides away, whereupon one of the sentinels relates how the monk is doomed to watch over the Hoard, and explains that no mortal hands can remove it, except in the ghost's absence. This leads up to an extraordinarily garbled version of the Nibelungen story, in which we recognise as characters King Gibich of Rhetia and his daughter Grimhilda; Brunilda, the betrothed of Gundachar; also Rudiger, the minstrel Volcker, Hagen of Troy, Ezzel, Dietrich of Bern, and Hildebrand. Siegfried's place is taken by Fradolfo, brother of Brunilda and possessor of the Hoard in virtue of his descent from the kings of the Netherlands.

The plot of the story may be summed up thus: Grimhilda is jealous of Brunilda's jewels, and proceeds to scheme for the treasure, which she eventually obtains by marrying Fradolfo, who murders Gibich and seizes Rhetia. The Burgundians, incensed, attack Grimhilda's castle after Fradolfo has been slain by Hagen, but without success. By magic spells she makes herself appear very beautiful, and convinces them for a time of her innocence. She now prepares an enchanted garden (here we see the influence of the Rosengarten zu Worms), into which she entices most of the characters, including Ezzel, who falls in love with and marries her. At a banquet she accuses Hagen of having murdered Fradolfo and stolen the Hoard; the guests take sides and fight, Grimhilda urging them on; but Hildebrand suddenly appears and kills her, whereupon the enchantment is removed, and the survivors stop fighting. Ilsan only, who had been Grimhilda's accomplice throughout, was put to death.

In conclusion, the sentinels descend to the vaults in search of the treasure, and soon after exchange their service for a life of opulence.

The next work influenced by the Nibelungenlied is one on a much higher literary level, the Hon. and Rev. William Herbert's Attila, King of the Huns (London, 1838), consisting of two parts; I. Attila, or the Triumph of Christianity: a poem; and II., Attila and his Predecessors: an Historical Treatise.

The second part does not properly belong to this section, and, moreover, contains nothing of interest beyond a few references to the Nibelungenlied, and theories as to the identity of Attila with Siegfried and the British King Arthur (pp. 518, 523-526, 535). Some passages in the poem, however, are based on the Norse and German versions of the Nibelungen saga. “The history of Hilda,” Herbert says in his preface, “is conformable with the accounts given in the Scandinavian and Teutonic legends, reconciling their differences. The name of Escam, the daughter and wife of Attila, mentioned in the history of Priscus, is applied to the legends concerning the younger Hilda, who was his daughter and wife.” Considering Attila identical with Siegfried, Hilda thus takes the rôle of Brunhild (Siegfried's first betrothed, according to the Eddas), Escam that of Kriemhild, who is supposed to be identical with (H)ildico, Attila's last wife and reputed murderess.

The first part of Book vii. (the whole consists of twelve books and a “Farewell,” and comprises some 7500 lines of blank verse) relates how Hilda is divorced by Attila in favour of Escam, and handed over, drugged, to Gunther of Burgundy. In Book xi., having learned by her magic arts that Attila's fall is at hand, she induces Gunther to plot his murder with the help of Hagen. She herself pays an apparently friendly visit to the Hunnish court, but Escam, becoming jealous and suspicious, tells three dreams of ill omen she has had: that Attila had been slain by two wild boars, that he had been overwhelmed by the fall of two mountains,³ and that he had been stung by two snakes. Hilda betrays herself by changing colour, but at this moment Gunther and Hagen appear. She contrives to warn them by passing them a ring wrapped in wolf skin, whereupon Hagen springs up, resolved to sell his life dearly. After his sword has broken, he is overpowered; his heart is cut out and carried to Gunther, who is left to die in a vault infested by snakes. Book xii. tells of Hilda's revenge more or less in accordance with the Norse tradition.

Herbert's numerous translations of Scandinavian poems testify to his knowledge of that literature, but the extent of his acquaintance with the Nibelungenlied is doubtful, for he states in a footnote to p. 242 that it, as well as the Edda, relates the device by which Hilda warned her husband. He first read the Upper German version in Weber's “Illustrations of Northern Antiquities,” to which he referred the year after its appearance in his notes to a poem on Brynhilda, printed in “Helga: a Poem” (London, 1815).

The lines containing the speech in which Hilda incites her husband to murder Attila will provide a favourable example of his style (xi. 336-366):—

                                                            She sought the loathed abode
Of Gunther, to whose bed by treason given
She dwelt estranged from love, with might and scorn
Denying his approach. “Arise,” she cried,
“If ever love within thee, or bold hopes
Have lit a generous spark. The heaven-sent plague
Vexes e'en now the Hun, and with poised wing
Destruction hovers o'er his host. Arise,
And be the minister of deadly hate!
Revenge must blot the treason out, that soil'd
My wedded couch with shame. I brook not, I,
Two husbands; nor divide to mortal man
Or bland endearments, or the power which makes
Man higher than the angels. Choose thou scorn
And hatred that shall wither all thine hopes
Now and hereafter, or the long-sought meed
Which I unwilling to revenge assign.
Gentle acceptance; and therewith, the might
That springs from Scandian magic, and the old lore
Of that dark cabbala, to Gozan brought
By Shalmanezar's captives, or the signs
Symbolic, borne to utmost Orient
By Manes, wisest of the sons of earth.
Arise, and seal with sacramental blood
Our hymeneals, and supremely blest
With Hilda reign!” This said, on him she bent
A smile so full of witchery, it stole
His senses, and o'er all his thoughts enthrall'd
Such blandishment and soft persuasion threw,
That life seem'd nothing worth, without the love
Of that pernicious matron, won by guilt.

In 1848 an anonymous author produced for the especial delectation of children, “The Heroic Life and Exploits of Siegfried the Dragon Slayer: an Old German Story” (London, 1848), with eight illustrations, designed by Kaulbach, and very crudely coloured. The material of this work seems to have been collected from a variety of sources, among which the Nibelungenlied, Hürnen Seyfrid, and some of the Heldenbuch romances are readily distinguishable; at the same time the author's imagination has also had free play. The contents are divided into fourteen “Adventures,” as follows (the observations in brackets are mine):—

1. Of King Siegmund, and of Heroes, Dwarfs, Giants, and Dragons of Ancient Times. (Introductory.)

2. Of Siegfried the Swift, how he grew up to be a Hero, and of his throwing the Spear. (Marvellous record of youthful prowess.)

3. Of the Emperor Otnit and Wolfdietrich, and how Siegfried asked permission to go out into the World. (From the Heldenbuch romances: Otnit and Hugdietrich und Wolfdietrich.)

4. How Siegfried the Swift went through the Wilderness, and what he encountered there. (He catches a stag with a golden crown, finds an underground smithy, and frightens the dwarfs into politeness.)

5. Mimer relates the Adventures of Wieland, the best of all Smiths and Armourers.

6. How Siegfried brings an Urochs to the Smiths. (Imitation of the bear scene in the Nibelungenlied.)

7. How Siegfried learns to be a Smith, and how he was sent by the treacherous Mimer to the Dragon. (Norse version.)

8. How Siegfried fights with the Dragon, and bathes himself in his blood. (As in the Thidrekssaga and the Nibelungenlied.)

9. How Siegfried comes again to the Smithy, and settles accounts with Mimer. (Norse.)

10. Siegfried sees the great Dragon, and meets a King of the Dwarfs.

11. Siegfried's fight with the faithless Giants under the Drachenstein.

12. Of the great Wonders which Siegfried saw in the Dragon's Rock.

13. How Siegfried first sees the King's Daughter, and is received by her.

14. Siegfried's fight with the Dragon.

Adventures 10-14 are based on the Hürnen Seyfrid. In conclusion, it is remarked that the sequel is told in other songs and legends, the “Rose-garden of Worms” is mentioned, and some old Worms customs connected with the tradition are referred to.

We now come to a work which stands in the first rank of modern adaptations of the old sagas, William Morris's “The Story of Sigurd the Völsung, and the Fall of the Niblungs⁴ (London, 1877; Kelmscott Press, 1898). Though the poem follows in general the Scandinavian version of the story, the influence of the Old German poem is noticeable in two ways. In the first place, as F. Hueffer pointed out in his review in the Gentleman's Magazine, xix. (N.S.) 46 ff., Morris's metre is practically that of the Nibelungenlied. Each line contains six stresses, after the third of which follows usually a syllable without stress, then the cæsura. As a rule the feet are iambic, but anapæsts are frequent, especially at the beginning of the line and after the cæsura. The rime, too, is masculine, but there is no division into strophes.

As regards the contents, Morris adhered for the most part more or less closely to the Norse tradition, but the influence of the Nibelungenlied is sometimes discernible in details as well as in one important motive. Gudrun does not warn her brothers of the intended treachery; on the contrary she is bent on avenging Sigurd's death, and with this end arouses Atli's desire for the Nibelungen treasure. Among the lesser traces of the influence of the German poem are the constant use of the phrases, “the need of the Niblungs,” and “The Niblungs' need” towards the end of the poem; the substitution of the falcon for the hawk in Gudrun's dream (p. 176); Hogni's advice to his comrades to throw out the corpses from the hall after the first conflict (p. 363); his ruse of allowing some of the Huns to enter, that they may be the more easily slain (p. 364); and the drinking of the blood of the slain (p. 366).

The third of these occurs in the following passage, as also an addition which seems to have been suggested by the Nibelungenlied scene where Volker plays the weary Burgundians to sleep (pp. 363 f.):—

Then biddeth the heart-wise Hogni, and men to the windows climb,
And uplift the war-grey corpses, dead drift of the stormy time,
And cast them adown to their people: thence they come aback and say
That scarce shall ye see the houses, and no whit the wheel-worn way
For the spears and shields of the Eastlands that the merchant city throng;
And back to the Niblung burg-gate the way seemed weary-long.
Yet passeth hour on hour, and the doors they watch and ward
But a long while hear no mail-clash, nor the ringing of the sword;
Then droop the Niblung children, and their wounds are waxen chill,
And they think of the Burg by the river, and the builded holy hill,
And their eyes are set on Gudrun as of men who would beseech;
But unlearned are they in craving and know not dastard's speech.
Then doth Giuki's first-begotten a deed most fair to be told,
For his fair harp Gunnar taketh, and the warp of silver and gold;
With the hand of a cunning harper he dealeth with the strings,
And his voice in their midst goeth upward, as of ancient days he sings
Of the days before the Niblungs, and the days that shall be yet;
Till the hour of toil and smiting the warrior hearts forget,
Nor hear the gathering foemen, nor the sound of swords aloof:
Then clear the song of Gunnar goes up to the dusky roof,
And the coming spear-host tarries, and the bearers of the woe
Through the cloisters of King Atli with lingering footsteps go.

Although “Sigurd the Völsung” is the only work by Morris in which the influence of the Nibelungenlied is strongly marked, he was acquainted with the old epic at least as early as 1856. In that year he contributed to the Oxford and Cambridge Magazine (started by himself and a few friends in January 1856, but discontinued after twelve months), a tale entitled, “The Hollow Land,” and headed by a quotation from the Nibelungenlied.⁵ It was probably due to Morris's influence that Burne-Jones, who was associated with him in bringing out the magazine referred to, painted in the same year “a city background to a picture of the Nibelungenlied.”⁶

One book remains to be noticed: J. Baldwin's “The Story of Siegfried” (London, undated; acquired by the British Museum, 1883).

The materials for this story, told especially for young people, are gathered from nearly all the numerous versions of the saga. In some parts the Nibelungenlied is followed, in others the Eddas or the Völsungasaga, and occasionally the minor poems. Episodes from Teutonic mythology are also woven into the story, but the details are largely products of Baldwin's imagination.

The whole is divided into twenty “Adventures,” of which the first eight (pp. 1-114) are chiefly concerned with Siegfried's early fortunes, i.e. those prior to the point at which the Nibelungenlied takes up the story. Adventure ix. relates “The Journey to Burgundy-Land,” making Siegfried arrive there unawares, and contrary to his father's advice. Kriemhild's dream appears in x., but xi., “How the Spring-time came,” contains the story of Idun and her apples. The remaining Adventures continue the story up to Siegfried's death, and the bringing of the Hoard to Burgundy. Interruptions occur, however, in xiii. (the story of Balder), xv. (containing “Alberich's Story”), and xvii. (the story of Loki). Apart from these digressions, the latter part of the book is based mainly on the Nibelungenlied. Some useful notes occupy pp. 294-306, with a number of quotations from and references to other works, among them: Carlyle's Essay, Morris's “Sigurd the Volsung,” Weber's “Northern Antiquities,” and the translations of Auber Forestier and Lettsom.

The tone of the book is thoroughly healthy and breezy, as well as imaginative and poetical. To the student it would be of little value, but it is eminently fitted for its purpose as a book for young people.

Notes

1. There is a copy in the British Museum.

2. A prominent character in the Rosengarten zu Worms, where he represents the ex-warrior who has entered a monastery but lost none of his pugnacity.

3. In the footnote to p. 240, four lines of the Nibelungenlied are translated as testimony to the source from which these two dreams are taken.

4. Cf. Gustav Gruener's “The Nibelungenlied and Sage in Modern Poetry,” M.L.A.A., xi. 220 ff. Noticed on p. 112.

5. M'Kail, “Life of W. Morris,” vol. i. p. 98.

6. Bell, “Edward Burne-Jones,” p. 26.