Hadingus: Godkiller or monster slayer?

The last half of Gesta Danorum's first book is dedicated to the hero Hadingus. Much ink has been devoted to interpreting to this story. Proposed scholarly interpretations range from an otherwise unknown *Haddingja saga, pure fabrication, dioscuric relic, and finally the frankly ludicrous idea that it's an euhemerized biography of Njǫrdr. Let's spend some time on the most promising interpretation, Axel Olrik's idea of a *Haddingja saga, which has more recently been picked up by Annette Lassen. As with many things Saxo, we immediately descend into a Lovecraftian realm of mad reconstructions, ancient puzzles, weeping and frustrated gnashing of the teeth. If it ever existed, *Haddingja saga has not been transmitted in the existent textual corpus, which is why the title should rightly be marked with an asterisk. True to form, Saxo does not refer to any source, and Olrik's speculations about what Saxo did or did not "get" must be considered pure conjecture. 

*Haddingja saga consists of a series of loosely connected episodes set primarily in Norway and the Baltic region, often with supernatural elements. The "saga" includes elements such as foster brotherhood, divination, pagan sacrifices, gory battles and a number of supernatural agents, which makes the narrative appear as a kind of prototypical legendary saga: "One will hardly find within Icelandic literature itself any fiction which to such an extent bears all the characteristics of the 'legendary sagas' as does the Haddingsaga, - right down to the interest in the sacrifices and burial customs of the Swedes" (Olrik, 1894, 2). The interpretational frame is overwhelmingly Nordic, whether it's as lost legendary saga or displaced deity. Examining one of these loosely connected episodes reveals that this might not be justified.

The text:

"Vanquished, Hadingus sought refuge in Hälsingland, and there having been scorched by the sun's boiling heat, while bathing his body beneath the cool sea water, he pursued a strange kind of monster and attacked it with numerous blows. After slaying it, he had it carried to his camp. While exulting in his feat, he was approached by a woman who addressed him in these words: 

Whether you tread the fields on foot, or set sail on the sea,
you will suffer the wrath of the gods, and throughout the whole world
you will find the elements hostile to your plans.
Cast down on land, battered at sea, a whirlwind
will be your constant companion in your wanderings,
a stiffness will never desert your sail, nor will any roof
sought out by you protect you, but be blown off,
struck by a tempest, your cattle cut down by a dreadful cold.
Everything shall be corrupted and lament the fate of your presence.
Shunned like a harmful mange, no plague will ever be worse:
so severe a punishment does the might of heaven mete out.
For your sacrilegious hands have killed a celestial being
disguised in another body: there you stand,
murderer of a propitious god! When you take to the sea,
you will suffer the fury of the winds, released from Aeolus' prison.
The west wind, the rushing north wind and the south wind will trample you,
and band together to compete in bringing forth gales,
until you appease divine rigor with fitting prayers,
and, having endured your deserved punishment, offer propitiation.

Having returned, Hadingus therefore endured sustained disaster, and his arrival likewise brought disorder to all peaceful places. Moreover, when he set sail, a a violent thunder cloud arose and consumed his fleet in an enormous tempest. When he looked for shelter after being shipwrecked, the house he approached caved in and fell to ruins. There was no cure for this disaster, until he had been able to atone for his heinous crimes by sacrifices, and return to divine favour. Accordingly, for the sake of propitiating the gods, he made a sacrifice of dark-coloured victims to the god Frø. He repeated this sacrificial custom at an annual festival, and left it to be imitated by his descendants. The Swedes call it Frøblod."

Into the waves

Scholars have time and time again noted the similarities between the curse-on-verse with parts of Buslubœn in Bósa saga ok Herrauðs konungs. The parallel is obvious, but perhaps overstated; I will not spend more time on it. Olrik, who saw *Haddingja saga as the basis(!) for Ǫrvar-Odds saga, explained the episode with the Odds battle with a monster (finngálkn). Oddr and his companions have arrived in England, and many of them spend the hot summer's day bathing in the sea. The monster bursts out from the forest and kills many men, before Oddr slays it. Despite Olrik's insistence, the similarities are extremely superficial: Hero slays monster on shore/in water. Instead, most of the episode, sans fighting the monster, is lifted directly from Saxo's favourite literary model, Valerius Maximus' Facta et Dicta Memorabilia. Compare Saxo's wording with Valerius':

"Victus Hadingus, cum in Helsingiam confugisset ibique solis feruore percalefactum corpus frigida maris aqua sublueret, inauditi generis beluam crebris ictibus attentatam oppressit necatamque in castra perferendam curauit. Quem facto ouantem obuia foemina hac uoce compellat." (Gesta Danorum)

"Alexander Macedonum rex incluta iam pugna excellentissimis opibus Darei contusis aestu et itineris feruore in Cilicia percalefactus Cydno, qui aquae liquore conspicuus Tarson interfluit, corpus suum inmersit." (Facta et Dicta Memorabilia)

The content of Saxo stems from Valerius too:

"Alexander, the king of Macedonia, had completely crushed the extraordinary empire of Darius in a famous battle. The weather in Cilicia was scorching, traveling was uncomfortable, and Alexander was very hot, so he jumped into the river Cydnus, which flows through Tarsus and is famous for its clear waters. Immediately afterward, his muscles went numb and his limbs went dead and lost sensation from the shock of the ice-cold water. The entire army was paralyzed with anxiety, and Alexander was brought into the city, which was near the camp. He lay sick at Tarsus, and the hopes of his imminent victory wavered in accordance with the progress of his illness."

The same episode is also recounted in Walter of Châtillon's Alexandreis, which Saxo also knew and used. Both Hadingus and Alexander are commanders on campaign, who punished by the scorching sun decide to jump into the cold water, with consequences. The curse-on-verse also contains a minor borrowing from Valerius. In this case, it's Hadingus sacrilegious hands ("Sacrilege necuere manus"):

"Acer etiam sui numinis uindex Apollo, qui Karthagine a Romanis oppressa ueste aurea nudatus id egit ut sacrilegae manus inter fragmenta eius abscisae inuenirentur."

Apollo was also a strict defender of his own divinity. When the Romans defeated Carthage, his statue was stripped of its golden garment, so he made sure that the sacrilegious hands were cut off and discovered among the fragments of his garment.

Valerius tells this in the chapter De Neglecta Religione; both vandalizing an idol and slaying a god must be said to be slighting the divine, though in various degrees. This loan doesn't really impact the story of Hadingus, but it will become important in another post.

Monster or god?

Paul Herrmann saw a parallel between Hadingus and Agamemnon at Aulis. Hadingus slew the beast/god, and Agamemnon killed the doe of Artemis. Both transgressions demanded propitiation. Herrmann's suggestion was blankly rejected by Dumézil, but he might have got it right. The story of Agamemnon at Aulis is told in both book 12 and 13 of Ovid's Metamorphoses, and we know that Saxo was familiar with Ovid and borrowed from both of these. Furthermore, book 13 contains the story of Glaucus, a man turned minor sea-god. Glaucus desires Scylla, who flees, but stops on a mountain to look at him: 

"Here she stopped and,
from a safe location, looked at Glaucus,
not knowing what he was, god or monster.
She marvelled at his colour and his hair,
which concealed his shoulders and clothed his back,
and at his body, which, below the groin,
was a twisting fish.

He sensed her watching and, leaning on a rock
that stood close by, spoke out: “Young girl,
I am not a monster or ferocious beast, but a god of the sea."

Both stories involve a supernatural being first identified as monster. Gesta Danorum uses the term belua, while Metamorphoses uses belua, prodigium and monstrum. The creature is later revealed to be a (sea) god, either by itself or the mysterious woman. Gesta Danorum uses the terms superus and numen, Metamorphoses uses deus. To me, the shared ambiguity, misidentification and correction seems to be far from a coincidence. Justice for Herrmann!

A stormy arrival

According to Friis-Jensen & Fishers register of parallels, the first prose line following the poem contains a parallel to Martianus Capella's De Nuptiis Philologiae et Mercurii:

"Regressus igitur Hadingus eodemque cuncta tenore perpessus tranquilla que proprio turbidabat aduentu" (Gesta Danorum)

"Haec commutationum assiduarum nubilo crebrius turbidabatur" (De Nuptiis)

Seeing a parallel based on only one word might seem somewhat flimsy, but is substantianted by the content of the passage in De Nuptiis. Martianus describes the throne of Juno, goddess of the turbulent atmospheric region, contrasting her changing and turbulent temper and region with the calm of her husband, Jupiter. Perhaps Saxo only alluded to this in order to enhance the intensity of the contrast between the turmoil brought by Hadingus and the "peaceful places" his visit brought destruction upon.

The festival

Finally, we have the passage where Hadingus institutes Frøblod. We need not concern ourselves with the final consonant, which is in all likelihood a modernization at the hands of a later medieval scribe. We find both blotæ and blodæ in later Danish texts. Frø (ON Freyr) is repeatedly connected with sacrifices and Swedes, both in Gesta Danorum and the Old Icelandic corpus. At first glance, this passage gives the impression of containing unique information about sacrificial animals. However, Saxo's use of two passages from Valerius makes that very uncertain.

The first passage is too long to quote at length. Valerius relates the customs of the Roman theater, and explains the origin of the Secular Games. A rich man, Valesius, had three children. The children were very ill, and the doctors could do nothing. He prayed to the Lares, and heard a voice telling him that he could save the children by taking them at once by the Tiber to Tarentum. The children were cured, and told him that in their dreams they had seen some god washing their bodies with a sponge. The god instructed them that dark victims were to be sacrificed at the altar of Father Dis and Proserpina, and that banquets and nighttime games were to be held before the gods. Since there wasn't already an altar, Valesius thought he should build one. He set a work crew to dig out a foundation, and went to the city himself to buy an altar. The workmen, however, found an altar to Father Dis and Proserpina twenty feet below ground. When Valesius heard this, he gave up buying an altar in the city, and "sacrificed black-skinned victims (which were called “dark” victims in the old days) at Tarentum". He celebrated games and banquets for the gods for three nights in a row, since that is how many children of his had been freed from danger. Each of these sacrifices was followed by theatrical performances. The verbal parallel is as follows:

"Siquidem propiciandorum numinum gratia Frø deo rem diuinam furuis hostiis fecit" (Gesta Danorum)

"hostias nigras, quæ antiquitus furuæ dicebantur, Tarenti immolauit" (Facta et Dicta Memorabilia)

The similarity between the two texts is straightforward. A man institutes a religious festival involving sacrifice of dark victims according to divine will. The passage is one of Saxo's favourites; he alludes to it no less than 29 times. Sacrificing dark-skinned animals is also found in other texts familiar to Saxo, such as the Aeneid. The connection to theater is immensely important. The corrupting, Pagan origin and influence of public theatres and games is a theme that the Church fathers repeatedly expounded upon. Especially Lactantius is a likely candidate for informing Saxo's understanding of theater and Paganism. In fact, Saxo repeatedly employs language and loans related to theater when describing the auto-euhemerizing wizard con-men. I will discuss this divine comedy further in a future post.

The second passage also deals with the founding of a Roman religious festival: the Lupercalia. The verbal parallel is as follows:

"Quem litationis morem annuo feriarum circuitu repetitum posteris imitandum reliquit" (Gesta Danorum)

"Cuius hilaritatis memoria annuo circuitu feriarum repetitur" (Facta et Dicta Memorabilia)

The relevant part of the passage reads:

"The custom of holding the Lupercalia was started by Romulus and Remus to express their joy when their grandfather, King Numitor of Alba Longa, allowed them to found a city under the Palatine Hill, where they had been reared. Faustulus, the man who had reared them, encouraged them to start the Lupercalia, and Evander the Arcadian had previously consecrated this spot. Goats were killed at a sacrifice, and the shepherds got carried away by the cheerful banquet and the plentiful supply of wine. The shepherds were then divided into two teams, tied the skins of the sacrificial victims around their waist, and jokingly chased anyone they met. This merry event is commemorated in the annual calendar of festivals."

So once again, we are dealing with a religious festival instituted in illo tempore. It's worth noticing that Frøblod was instituted only a few generations after the time of Saxo's Romulus and Remus, Dan and Angul. The question of how much saga material was needed to compose this narrative episode remains. Looking at the classical passages Saxo used, it is possible that not much Nordic source material was needed to construct this particular narrative sequence, if any. This might be throwing the baby out with the bath water though, but the classical material matters more than has often been acknowledged, and the verbal borrowings have a deeper significance for the understanding of Gesta Danorum than has been assumed. 

Depending on your outlook, this might be a rather gloomy conclusion, but using Roman litterature to establish a Danish parallel to ancient Rome is entirely in accordance with one of Saxo's overall goals. According to Friis-Jensen, one of Saxo's compositional objectives was to construct an image of Denmark as parallel to the Roman Empire. Saxo's staging of Denmark assumes the character of an imitatio et aemulatio imperii Romani. The parallels with Rome permeate Gesta Danorum at all levels. Thus, not only does Denmark's historical development correspond to Rome's, but Saxo's language and poetry also parallel the best Rome had to offer. Saxo's Gesta Danorum was simply an attempt to stage Denmark as the Nordic Rome. To accomplish this, he moved across lands belonging to someone else, like nomads poaching their way across fields they did not write, despoiling the wealth of Rome and building his own work from the semiotic raw materials.