c. Literature.—For the Swiss medieval Minnesingers see Karl
Bartsch, Die Schweizer Minnèsänger (Frauenfeld, 1887, texts, with
introductions); and for popular ballads, historical or not, L. Tobler,
Schweizerische Volkslieder (2 vols., Frauenfeld, 1882–1884, texts,
with notes and introductions). In general consult J. Bächtold,
Geschichte der deutschen Literatur in der Schweiz (Frauenfeld, 1892);
E. H. Gaullieur, Etudes sur l'histoire littéraire de la Suisse française,
particulièrement dans la seconde moitié du xviiime siècle (Paris, 1856);
P. Godet, Histoire littéraire de la Suisse romande (2nd ed., Neuchâtel
and Paris, 1395); H. E. Jenny, Die Alpendichtung der deutschen
Schweiz (Bern, 1905); J. C. Mörikofer, Die schweizerische Literatur
des xviii. Jahrhunderts (Leipzig, 1861); F. Rausch, Geschichte der
Literatur des rhäto-romanischen Volker (Frankfort-on-the-Main,
1870); Virgile Rossel, Histoire littéraire de la Suisse romande (2 vols.,
Geneva and Paris, 1889–1891); R. Weber, Die poetische Nationalliteratur
der deutschen Schweiz (3 vols., Glarus, 1866–1867). For the
more recent Swiss writers see the literary sections of the work
entitled La Suisse au xixᵐᵉ siècle, vol. ii. ch. 4 (Lausanne, 1889–1900),
and the biographers of the several writers noted under the
separate articles. (W. A. B. C.)
SWOLD (or Swöld), BATTLE OF, the most famous of the
sea-fights of the ancient Norsemen. It took place on the 9th
of September 1000. The place cannot now be identified, as the
formation of the Baltic coast has been much modified in the
course of subsequent centuries, partly by the gradual silting up
of the sea, and partly by the storms of the 14th century. Swold
was an island probably on the North German coast, near Rügen.
The battle was fought between Olaf Trygvesson, king of Norway,
and a coalition of his enemies—Eric Hakonson, his cousin and
rival; Olaf, the king of Sweden; and Sweyn Forkbeard, king of
Denmark. The poets, and the poetically minded authors of the
sagas, who are the only authorities, have told the story with
many circumstances of romance. But when the picturesque
details, which also have no doubt at least a foundation of truth,
are taken at their true value, the account of the battle still
presents a very trustworthy picture of the sea-fighting of the
Norsemen. Olaf had been during the summer in the eastern
Baltic. The allies lay in wait for him at the island of Swold on
his way home. The Norse king had with him seventy-one
vessels, but part of them belonged to an associate, Sigwald, a
chief of the Jomsburg vikings, who was an agent of his enemies,
and who deserted him. Olaf’s own ships went past the anchorage
of Eric Hakonson and his allies in a long column without
order, as no attack was expected. The king was in the rear of
the whole of his best vessels. The allies allowed the bulk of the
Norse ships to pass, and then stood out to attack Olaf. He
might have run past them by the use of sail and oar to escape,
but with the true spirit of a Norse warrior he refused to flee,
and turned to give battle with the eleven ships immediately
about him. The disposition adopted was one which is found
recurring in many sea-fights of the middle ages where a fleet
had to fight on the defensive. Olaf lashed his ships side to side,
his own—the “Long Serpent,” the finest war-vessel as yet built
in the north—being in the middle of the line, where her bows
projected beyond the others. The advantage of this arrangement
was that it left all hands free to fight, a barrier could be
formed with the oars and yards, and the enemy's chance of
making use of his superior numbers to attack on both sides
would be, as far as possible, limited—a great point when all
fighting was with the sword, or with such feeble missile weapons
as bows and javelins. The Norse long ships were high in the
bulwark—or, as the Greeks would have said, “cataphract.”
Olaf, in fact, turned his eleven ships into a floating fort. The
Norse writers, who are the only authorities, gave all the credit
to their own countrymen, and according to them all the intelligence
of Olaf's enemies, and most of their valour, were to be
found in Eric Hakonson. They say that the Danes and Swedes
rushed at the front of Olaf's line without success. Eric Hakonson
attacked the flank. His vessel, the “Iron Ram,” was
“bearded,” that is to say, strengthened across the bows by
bands of iron, and he forced her between the last and last but
one of Olaf's line. In this way the Norse ships were carried one
by one, till the "Long Serpent" alone was left. At last she
too was overpowered. Olaf leapt into the sea holding his
shield edgeways, so that he sank at once and the weight of his
hauberk dragged him down. A legend of later days has it that
at the last moment a sudden blaze of light surrounded the king,
and when it cleared away he had disappeared. King Olaf is
one of the same company as Charlemagne, King Arthur and
Sebastian of Portugal—the legendary heroic figures in whose death the people would not believe, and whose return was looked for.
See the Heims-Kringla, in the Saga Library, trans. by W. Morris and E. Magnusson (1893) and the Saga of King Olaf Tryggwason, trans. by J. Sephton (1895). (D. H.)
SWORD (O. Eng. sweord; ultimately from an Indo-European
root meaning to wound), a general term for a hand weapon of
metal, characterized by a longish blade, and thus distinct from
all missile weapons on the one hand, and on the other hand from
staff weapons—the pike, bill, halberd and the like—in which
the metal head or blade occupies only a fraction of the effective
length. The handle of a sword provides a grip for the hand that
wields it, or sometimes for two hands; it may add protection,
and in most patterns does so to a greater or less extent.
Still it is altogether subordinate to the blade. For want of a
metal-headed lance or axe, which indeed were of later invention,
a sharpened pole or a thin-edged paddle will serve the turn.
But a sword-handle without a blade is naught; and no true sword-blade
can be made save of metal capable of taking an edge or point.
1. Historical.—There are so-called swords of wood and even stone to be found in collections of savage weapons. But these are really flattened clubs; and the present writer agrees with the late General Pitt-Rivers in not believing that such modifications of the club have had any appreciable influence on the form or use of true swords.Origins and Early Forms. On this last point, however, the opinions of competent archaeologists have been much divided. We will only remark that the occurrence in objects of human handiwork of a form, or even a series of forms, intermediate between two types is not conclusive evidence that those forms are historical links between the different types, or that there is any historical connexion at all. In the absence of dates fixed by external evidence this kind of comparison will seldom take us beyond plausible conjecture. A traveller who had never seen velocipedes might naturally suppose, on a first inspection, that the tricycle was a modification of the old four-wheeled velocipede, and the bicycle a still later invention; but we know that in fact the order of development was quite different.
It is more difficult as a matter of verbal definition to distinguish the sword from smaller hand weapons. Thus an ordinary sword is four or five times as long as an ordinary dagger: but there are long daggers and short swords; neither will the form of blade or handle afford any certain test. The real difference lies in the intended use of the weapon; we associate the sword with open combat, the dagger with a secret attack or the sudden defence opposed to it. One might say that a weapon too large to be concealed about the person cannot be called a dagger. Again, there are large knives, such as those used by the Afridis and Afghans, which can be distinguished from swords only by the greater breadth of the blade as compared with its length. Again, there are special types of arms, of which the yataghan is a good example, which in their usual forms do not look much like swords, but in others that occur must be classed as varieties of the sword, unless we keep them separate by a more or less artificial theory, referring the type as a whole to a different origin.
Of the actual origin of swords we have no direct evidence. Neither does the English word nor, so far as we are aware, any of the equivalent words in other languages, Aryan or otherwise, throw any light on the matter. Daggers shaped from reindeer antlers occur among the earliest relics of man, and there are flint daggers of the Neolithic period, which may be supposed to have been the model for the first hand weapons made of copper. Bronze took the place cf copper about 2000 B.C., and the transition from bronze to iron is assigned to the period from 1000 to 700 B.C.[1] Whatever may be the further discoveries of archaeologists, we know that swords are found from the earliest
- ↑ As to the overlapping of the bronze and iron ages in the Homeric poems, see Burrows, The Discoveries in Crete (1907), p. 214. As to Britain, O. Montelius in Archaeologia, 61, pp. 155-6: Cowper, Art of Attack, 124 sqq. (Ulverston, 1906).
