Icelandic Magic (7 page)

SÆMUNDUR THE WISE (1056–1133)

Sæmundur the Wise sailed overseas and attended the Black School (
Svartiskóli
), and there he learned strange arts. There was no schoolmaster to be seen in the Black School, but whatever the students might want to know about in the evening, books about this would be provided the next morning, or otherwise it might be written up on the walls. Above the entrance, on the inner side, was written: “You may come in; your soul is lost.” There was a law in that school that anyone who came must study there for three years. All the ones who were leaving in any given year had to leave the place at the same time, and the devil would always keep the one who was last to leave, and so they would always draw lots to see who would be last one out. More than once the lot fell on Sæmundur, and so he stayed there longer than the law allowed.

But then it so happened that Bishop Jón was traveling to Rome and passed nearby. He found out that Sæmundur was still at the Black School for the aforementioned reason, so he went in and spoke to Sæmundur and offered to help him escape, provided he would go to Iceland and behave as a good Christian. Sæmundur accepted these terms. Bishop Jón made Sæmundur walk in front of him, but he wore his cloak loosely over his shoulders, and just when Jón was about to get out, a hand came up through the floor and gripped the cloak and pulled it under, but Jón got out.

After this the devil (
fjandinn
) came to Sæmundur and made a pact (
kontrakt
) with him: if Sæmundur could remain hidden for three nights he would be free, but if not, he would belong to him. The first night Sæmundur hid under a riverbank, both in the water and in the soil at the same time, thus the devil (Satan) thought that Sæmundur had drowned in the river; the second night he hid out at sea in a shipwreck that was drifting offshore, so the devil believed that the river must have spit him out into sea; the third night he had himself buried in consecrated earth, so the devil thought that Sæmundur must have been washed ashore dead and been buried in a churchyard, into which he dared not go to seek him. All this was done according to Bishop Jón's advice.

Other people say that this is how Sæmundur escaped: His fellow students made a deal with him that he would go out last; so he sewed a leg of mutton to the hem of his cloak, and as he followed the group who were rushing out through the school doors something grabbed at the cloak and caught the leg. Then Sæmundur dropped the cloak and took off on foot, saying, “He grabbed, but I slipped away,” and so he rejoined his fellow students.

GOTTSKÁLK THE CRUEL (1497–1520)

Bishop Gottskálk the Cruel was the greatest magician of his time; he renewed the practice of black magic (
svartagaldur
), which had not been in customary use since pagan times, and compiled a book of magic that was called Red-Skin (Rauðskinna). It was written with gold letters and was highly embellished; it was inscribed with rune staves just like all magic spells. The bishop would grant this book to no one after his day, and for this reason he had the book buried with him and did not teach all of his magical knowledge to anyone. Therefore he was harmful to everyone by way of his speech so that he could confuse the memories and minds of men to get them to do things for which he could blame them. At first he thought to hire spies to find out who was eating meat during the Lenten fast, but in the end no one wanted to conduct espionage for him. One man alone was sufficient to do the job, so the bishop taught him magic tricks (
kukl
), and among these was the donning of the helm of hiding (
hulins hjálmur
); although he did not teach him more so that he could control him.

One time during the Lenten fast this spy went to the farm of a certain farmer and positioned himself at the window of the sitting room; it was very dark outside so the spy did not take heed and did not think it necessary to put on the helm of hiding. But the farmer saw more in front of his face than a certain somebody knew; the farmer saw how the spy came and positioned himself at the window. He then asked his wife where the side of mutton was that they had left uneaten at Shrovetide eve. His wife became angry and asked whether he knew what was at stake, but he said that they had nothing to worry about and ordered her to go fetch the meat. At that point the woman dared not do anything but what she was ordered to do and fetched the meat, and she said, “This is a good fat morsel.” She took the meat and then took a long, pointed knife and cut through the meat. The light burned dully and the spy-man crouched down at the window to see everything that was to be seen. The farmer went about everything indifferently; he lifted the side of mutton up high and looked at it on every side, but the other man did not see the knife. But when least expected the farmer turned to the window and thrust the knife, which was sticking out of the side of mutton, through the windowpane into the eye of his guest so that it stuck in deep and said, “Take this bite I'm giving you!” The spy let out a scream and fell down. The farmer got the true story out of him, and then the spy died in great agony.

The farmer brought this case before the magistrate Jón Sigmundsson. They went to the bishop, who was unprepared before he had learned the fate of his messenger, and although he denied any responsibility he saw that it was most advisable to pay the farmer a lot of money, and the magistrate Jón passed the judgment that anyone who would lurk outside a window had no rights. From that time on the bishop was not able to force different men to get money from farmers but only to intimidate them into paying out when he saw by his magic that they had not paid everything they owed. Although the bishop never got annoyed with the farmer who killed his spy, because he knew he could not win, he did persecute Jón the magistrate, because he could not help himself, and he did not stop until he had made the magistrate penniless. So Jón vexed himself to death, but at the hour of his own death he summoned the bishop to God's judgment, and the bishop could not see this by means of his magic because one stronger than him intervened.

EIRÍKUR OF VOGSÓSAR (1638–1716)

There are four versions presented below of the Eiríkur of Vogsósar stories.

1.
How Eiríkur Learned His Arts at School

At Biskupstungar there was once an old cottager who was heathen
(
forn
) in his ways; he seldom mixed with other people. He owned two things that he thought were better than all of his other possessions. These were a book, of which no one else knew the contents, and a young cow that he fed very well. The old man got very ill and sent word to the bishop of Skálholt and asked him to come and see him. The bishop quickly set out, thinking it would be best to talk to the man about a few things, and so he went to meet him. The cottager said, “The way things are going, my lord, I will soon be dead, and I want to make a little request of you first.” The bishop agreed.

The cottager said, “I own a book here, and a young cow that I love very much, and I want to have them both in my grave with me. If not, things will be the worse for everybody.”

The bishop tells him that this will be done, for he thought it could be expected that the old man would walk again after death if it were not done. Then the old man died, and the bishop had him buried with his book and his young cow.

Many years later there were three students at the Cathedral School at Skálholt
who undertook to learn magic (
fjölkynngi
). One of them was named Bogi, the second Magnús, and the third Eiríkur. They had heard talk about the old man and his book, and they very much wanted to possess that book. So one night they went out to awaken the old cottager from the dead, but no one could tell them where his grave was. So they decided to go through the graves row by row, raising the dead from each, one after the other; they filled the whole church with ghosts (
draugar
), but the old man did not come. Therefore they put them all to rest again and filled the church a second time, and then a third, and then there were only a few graves left, and the cottager had not appeared. When they had put all the other ghosts to rest they raised these last ones, and the very last to appear was the cottager, and he had his book under his arm and was leading his young cow. They all rushed toward the old man; they wanted to get the book, but he fought hard, and all they could do was to defend themselves, although they did snatch a few pages from the first part of the book but gave up on obtaining any more of the rest. Then they wanted to put to rest all those who were still lurching about, and they succeeded with everyone except the old man. They got nowhere at all with him; he was still trying to get back the lost part of his book. But they held their own, though they had their work cut out to do so, and this went on until daybreak. But when the day dawned, the cottager disappeared into his grave, and they chanted (
þuldu)
their spells (
fræði
) over it, and the old man was not seen
again. But the three students kept the leaves from his book for their own use,
and based on them they put together the book of magic (
fjölkynngisbók
) named Gray-Skin (
Gráskinna
) and it remained for many years on a table in the Cathedral School at Skálholt; Bogi gained the most from this, for he learned more than the others.

Later these three students were ordained into the priesthood, and Eiríkur became the priest of Vogsósar in Selvogur . . .

Although the fellows had kept their learning of magic (
fjölkynngislærdóm
) concealed (
dult
), it was not long before word got around that Eiríkur was a magician (
göldróttur
), so his bishop summoned him and showed him Gray-Skin and ordered him to make a clear statement as to whether he was acquainted with what was in it. Eiríkur flicked the pages and said, “I don't know a single one of these signs (
staf
) in here,” and this he solemnly swore and then went back home. But afterward he told his friends that he knew all the signs, except just one single one.

2.
How Eiríkur Learned His Arts at School (a variation)

When Eiríkur was at school at Skálholt, some of the students decided to awaken the ghost of an old man buried in the churchyard there, who had owned a magic book of great power. They raised and eventually confined him, but none of them could get the book out from under his arm until Eiríkur approached him, whereupon the book loosened from his grip at once. Eiríkur read in it until shortly after dawn. Then he shut it and gave it back to its owner, who took it and quickly sank back into his grave. Later the other students asked him what he had read. “Enough,” he said, “to know that if I had read any more I would have lost my soul to the devil.”

3.
Eiríkur's Pupil and the Book

Many young schoolboys would go to Eiríkur and ask him to teach them. He tested (
reyndi
) them in various ways and would teach the ones who satisfied him. Among others, there was a boy who requested instruction in magic (
í galdri
). Eiríkur said, “Be here with me until Sunday and then accompany me to Krýsuvíkur; afterward I will tell you whether you are in or out.”

On Sunday they rode off. But when they got out to the sands, Eiríkur says, “I have forgotten my handbook; it is under my pillow. Go and fetch it, but do not open it.”

The boy went and fetched the book and rode back out to the sands. Now he felt
a longing to look inside the book, and this he does. A countless host of devils
(
púkar
) came toward him, asking, “What has to be done? What has to be done?” He answered quickly, “Make a rope from the sand!” They got to work, but he continued on his way and catches up to the priest out on the lava fields. The priest took the book and said, “You opened it.” This the boy denied. They went on their intended way, but on the return trip the priest saw where the devils (
púkar
) were sitting on the sands.

Then he said, “I knew you had opened the book, my good fellow, although you denied it; but you came up with the best possible plan, and it would be worthwhile teaching you.”

And thus it is said that he did teach him.

4.
Raising Ghosts (a variation)

Once two boys came to Eiríkur the priest and asked him to show them how he went about awakening ghosts (
draugar
). He asked them to come with him to the churchyard. This they did. He murmured something under his breath, and there came a gush of earth up out of a grave. But each of the boys reacted differently: one laughed but the other cried.

Eiríkur said to the latter, “Go back home, my good fellow, and give thanks that you still have your wits about you; the second boy would be a pleasure to teach.”

But it is not known whether anything came of this.

GALDRA-LOFTUR (DIED 1722)

There was a student at Hólar named Loftur who was always studying magic and who made some of his fellow students take up the study as well, although the others never got any further than some basic tricks (
kukl
). Loftur asked his fellow students to perform magical jokes on other people, and he was himself the leading practitioner of this. One time Loftur went home at Yuletide to his parents' house; for this purpose he took a serving girl from the place, put horseshoes and a bridle on her, and thus rode her in a magical ride (
gandreið
) there and back. She had to remain in bed for a long time afterward suffering from wounds and exhaustion, and she was unable to talk about this as long as Loftur was alive. Another time there Loftur got a servant woman pregnant and then killed the mother of his child with workings (
gjarningar
). She was used to carrying bowls to and from the kitchen, and for the sake of speed some women would carry a sort of tray-shaped instrument known as a “bowl float” in which they would carry many bowls at once. Loftur had a passageway open up in front of her in the middle of a wall, and she went into it. Because of this the girl became frightened and hesitated so the magic worked and the wall closed up again. A long time afterward, when the wall was torn down, the skeleton of a woman was found standing upright with a bunch of bowls in her arms and the skeleton of an unborn child in the cavity of her body.

Reverend Þorleifur Skaftason, because he was the rural dean and the cathedral vicar, rebuked Loftur for his behavior. Nevertheless, Loftur did not change his ways. In fact, Loftur now began to try to harm the dean, although he could not harm him because Reverend Þorleifur was such a great man of God that nothing impure (
óhreint
) could do him harm. One time the dean was on his way to church and had to cross the Hjaltadal River when it was rushing during of the spring thaws. In midstream his horse became frightened and stalled, so the dean grabbed his bag with his cassock in it, dismounted, and waded ashore. He was not harmed and held mass services later that day. The following verse was composed about this.

 

On his own two feet he came
(the news came as a shock),
Then home to Hólar he came,
Carrying his cassock.

Loftur did not let up until he had learned everything that was in Gray-Skin, and he knew it in detail; he then sought advice from various other magicians, but no one knew more than he did. He then grew so jaded and evil in temper that all the other boys in the school were afraid of him and dared not do anything except allow it to be as he wished, no matter how much they might be opposed to it.

One time in the early winter Loftur started speaking to a boy whom he knew to be courageous and asked him to help him awaken the ancient bishops from the dead. This boy hesitated, but Loftur said he would kill him. So the boy asked how he could possibly help him, as he did not know any magic (
galdur
).

Loftur told him that he only needed to stand in the bell tower and hold on to the bell rope, not moving at all, and stare steadily at him and ring the bell at once when he gave him a sign with his hand.

Loftur now said, “I want to tell you about my plans. Those who have learned as much magic as I have can only use it for evil, and must all be destroyed when they die. But if a man knows enough, then the devil (
djöfullinn
) will have no power over the man, but rather he must be his servant without receiving anything in return, just as he served Sæmundur the Wise, and whoever knows as much as that is also his own master (
sjálfráður
), able to use his knowledge (
kunnáttu
) however he wishes. This knowledge is not easy to obtain in this day and time, since the Black School (
Svartiskóli
) closed down, and Gottskálk the Cruel had his book, Red Skin, buried with him. That is why I want to wake him up and force him by magic (
særa
) to hand Red Skin over to me, but all the old bishops will also rise with him, for they will not be able to resist the powerful conjurations (
særingar
)
as well as Gottskálk will. So I will make them tell me all the old lore (
forneskja
) they knew in their lifetimes, which is not a problem for me, as I can tell right away by looking whether a man knew magic (
galdur
) or not. I cannot awaken the later bishops, because they were all buried with the Scripture on their breasts. Serve me well and do as I ask you; do not ring too soon or too late, for my life and my eternal welfare depend on it. I will reward you so well that no man will be your superior.”

They gave their word on this and got up soon after bedtime and snuck out into the cathedral. The moon was shining so brightly outside that the church was bright inside; the schoolboy stopped in the bell tower, while Loftur went on into the pulpit and began to conjure (
særa
). Soon a man rose up through the floor, serious but with a mild expression, and he wore a crown. The boy thought for sure that this must have been the first bishop of Hólar.

He said to Loftur, “Stop this, you wretched man, while there is time, for my brother Gvendur's prayers will weigh down heavily upon you if you bother him.”

Loftur ignored him and continued to conjure. Then, one by one, all the ancient bishops rose up from their graves, all in priestly vestments, with pectoral crosses, and carrying croziers. All said a little something to Loftur, but it is not known what was said. Three of them wore crowns; the first, the last, and the middle one. None of them was concealing any magic lore (
forneskja
).

Gottskálk resisted this, and Loftur now began to conjure him in real earnest, turning his speech to Gottskálk alone; then he turned to the penitential psalms of David rededicated to the devil and made a confession of all the good he had ever done as if it were sin instead. The three crowned bishops now stood at the other end of the church with their hands uplifted and turned their faces toward Loftur, while the others looked away from all of them. Then a great rumbling was heard, and a man rose up through the floor with his crozier in his left hand and a red book under his right arm; he did not have a pectoral cross. He cast an unfriendly eye toward the other bishops and then turned and grinned at Loftur, who was now conjuring as hard as possible. Gottskálk moved a bit closer and said in a sarcastic tone, “Well sung, son, and better than I thought you would, but you won't get my Red-Skin.”

Hearing this, Loftur turned himself inside out with rage and conjured as he had never done before. He gave the benediction and recited the Lord's Prayer, both with the name of the devil (
djöfulinn
), until the whole church shook and rocked as if in an earthquake. To the other boy it seemed that Gottskálk edged nearer to Loftur and unwittingly reached a corner of the book out to him. Before this he had been frightened, but now he shook with terror and everything turned black before his eyes, but it seemed to him that the bishop held up the book and that then Loftur stretched out his hand to grab it. At this moment he thought Loftur had given him the signal and he pulled the bell rope, and at once all the dead sank back down through the floor, with a great rushing noise.

Loftur stood in the pulpit for a brief moment as if he were paralyzed and put his head in his hands, and then he stumbled down and found his comrade, went up to him, and said, “Now this went worse than it should have, but I don't blame you. I could well have waited for the dawn, when the bishop would have had to give the book up, and he would have handed it over to me, since he would have to have made this payment to be allowed to get back into his grave, nor would this have been allowed by the other bishops. But he was more enduring than I in the contest between us, because when I saw the book and heard his mockery I became enraged (
óður
) and thought I could get it immediately by force of conjurations (
særingar
); I came to my senses when, if I had chanted just one conjure-stave (
særingarstafur
) more, it would have sunk the whole cathedral into the ground, which is what he intended. In that moment I saw the faces of the crowned bishops, and so faltered, but I knew that you would turn weak and grasp the bell rope to sound the bell, while the book was so close to me that I felt I could grasp it. As it was I touched the corner, and I really did think I had got a grip on it and would never drop it! But things have to go as they have been ordained (
auðið
), and now my salvation is lost forever—and your reward as well. We must both keep quiet about it.”

After this experience Loftur is said to have become ever more depressed and fearful. He left school and sought solace from a nearby priest who specialized in helping people recover from magical attacks. At first the priest stayed with Loftur day and night, but after a while the boy seemed to be doing better. The priest left one day and made Loftur promise not to go outdoors while he was away. Loftur promised, but soon after the priest left the boy went to a nearby fisherman and had him row his boat out into the calm sea. Witnesses report that a large gray hand thrust up from the sea and dragged the boat to the depths. No sign was ever found of Loftur, the fisherman, or his boat.