Part IV: Draugr Attacks and Slaying the Undead
The dead body was a vehicle of plague and illness, such as that of the sorcerer Mithothyn of Saxo Grammaticus, but in a day and age in which germ theory was unknown, the causative agent was perceived to be the evil intent of the draugr. Thus it followed that the dead might also make physical attacks against the living. The draugrwas believed to feel a longing for the things of life, and even envy of those yet alive. This notion is poignantly described in Friðþjofs saga, when a dying king declared: The idea of dead friends calling greetings from gave to grave is a peaceful one, exhibiting a wistful desire for the friendship experienced while yet living. However, this desire for the things of life often took on more dangerous overtones as in the story of Killer-Hrapp, a brutal man who declared to his wife on his deathbed: The saga goes on to say that: The draugar who most dramatically demonstrate the desire for their past life are those that appear in Eyrbyggja Saga. The ghosts of drowned Thorodd and his crew, dripping wet, and the mud-covered band of draugar led by Thorir Wood-Leg invade the living-room of the hall at Frodriver: These undead not only deprive the inhabitants of Frodriver of the benefits of their hall at night, while they are present the wage mud-fights, no doubt damaging the hall and rendering it uninhabitable by day as well. In the sagas, “those who die have not gone to a better place, they are on the contrary driven away from the comfort of their homes and the company of their kin. They feel cold and hungry” (Christiansen, “The Dead and the Living,” p. 10). It is no wonder then that the draugr should come to resent the living, and at times walk again to reclaim a place they feel is rightfully theirs. This envy of the living is related to the motive driving the most powerful and dangerous of draugar: their insatiable hunger. This hunger is seen in the encounter of Aran and Asmund, sword brothers, who made an oath that if one should die, the other would sit vigil with him for three days inside the burial mound. This when Aran died, Asmund equipped his brother’s barrow with his possessions, his banners and armor, hawk, hound, and horse. Then Asmund set himself to wait the three days: Saxo Grammaticus, who recounts the same basic story, adds, “… but horse nor dog sated its hunger; swiftly it turned its lightning talons to slash my cheek and take off my ear” (Saxo Grammaticus, Vol I, p. 151; Other hungry ghosts include Glamr of Grettirs Saga and Thrain of Hromundar saga Greipssonar, p. 67). The implication is clear that the draugr, having devoured the animals interred with him in the mound, had determined to make Asmund his next grisly meal. The unnatural hunger of the draugrwas perhaps a physical manifestation of its desire for life. It is for this reason that modern commentators often link the draugr and the vampire. “In these tales the corpse within the grave is always represented with vampire-like propensities, superhuman strength, and a fierce desire to destroy any living creature which ventures to enter the mound” (Ellis-Davidson, Road to Hel, p. 92). The draugr’s victims were not restricted to trespassers in its mound. The roaming ghosts decimated livestock by running the animals to death while either riding them or pursuing them in some hideous, half-flayed form. Shepherd, whose duties to their flocks left them out of doors at night time, were also particular targets for the hunger and hatred of the undead: Stabled animals and unwary travelers were crushed and broken by the draugr, and those unwary enough to open hall doors after nightfall for a knocking visitor might never be seen again: The Icelandic custom was to tap three times at the windows after dark, and “a knock, especially if it were only a single stroke, was a sure sign of a ghost or other evil creature seeking entry” (Simpson, Icelandic Folktales and Legends, pp. 135-136). Although staying indoors at night was safer than venturing outside when a draugr was about, the creature might attack the hall itself: This type of onslaught was known as house-riding, and the draugr used its enormous strength to batter the roof, while the drumming of its heels terrified the inhabitants within: The draugr’s attack could also be intended to gain entry into the hall by destroying the doors: Overcoming the dead would seem to have been quite difficult, but the Scandinavians believed that even the dead could die again: Although iron weapons could harm the draugr, as with many supernatural creatures, cold iron was not sufficient to stop the dead from walking. First, the draugr must be overcome by grappling hand-to-hand with the creature, and wrestling with it until it was subdued (Simpson, Icelandic Folktales and Legends, p. 107). The hero next must decapitate the ghost, often with a sword found in the draugr’s own barrow (Chadwick, “Norse Ghosts,” p. 55). This was at times a difficult task, for in some traditions the hero was required to leap between the head and the body before the corpse hit the ground, or walk widdershins three times between the head and body afterwards, or drive a wooden stake into the headless body in the same manner other cultures used to dispose of vampires (Saxo Grammaticus, Vol. I, p. 150 and Vol. II, p. 89). The final step in dispatching the draugr was to burn the remains to cold ashes and then bury the ashes in a remote spot or throw them out to sea: only then was the undead truly dead and destined to rise no more (Ellis-Davidson, Road to Hel, pp. 37-38).Part IV: Draugr Attacks and Slaying the Undead
My howe shall stand beside the firth. And there shall be but a short distance between mine and Thorsteinn’s, for it is well that we should call to one another (Ellis-Davidson, Road to Hel, p. 91).
I want my grave to be dug under the living-room door, and I am to be placed upright in it under the threshold, so that I can keep an even better watch over my house.
Hrapp soon died and all his instructions were carried out, for Vigdis [his wife] did not dare do otherwise. And difficult as he had been to deal with during his life, he was now very much worse after death, for his corpse would not rest in its grave… (Magnusson and Palsson, Laxdaela Saga, pp. 77-78).

The people bolted out of the room, as you’d expect, and that evening they had to do without light, heating-stones, and everything else the fire could give (Palsson and Edwards, Eyrbyggja Saga, pp. 166-167).
During the first night, Aran got up from his chair and killed the hawk and hound and ate them. On the second night he got up again from his chair, and killed the horse and tore it into pieces; then he took great bites at the horse-flesh with his teeth, the blood streaming down from his mouth all the while he was eating…. The third night Asmund became very drowsy, and the first thing he knew, Aran had got him by the ears and torn them off (Palsson and Edwards, “Egils saga einhenda ok Asmundar saga berserkjabana,” in Gautrek’s Saga and Other Medieval Tales, pp. 99-101).

… the oxen which had been used to haul Thorolf’s body were ridden to death by demons, and every single beast that came near his grave went raving mad and howled itself to death. The shepherd at Hvamm often came racing home with Thorolf after him. One day that autumn neither sheep nor shepherd came back to the farm” (Palsson and Edwards, Eyrbyggja Saga, p. 115).


And when they were at meat there came a loud sharp blow at the door. Then one of them said, “Good tidings must be near now.” He ran out, and they thought that he was long coming back. The Iostan and his men went out, and saw him that had gone out stark mad, and in the morning he died (Gudbrandr Vigfusson and F. York Powell, “Floamanna saga,” in Origines Islandicae. Oxford, Clarendon, 1905, Vol II, p. 646).
At night the people at Hvamm used to hear loud noises from outside, and it often sounded to them as if there was somebody sitting astride the roof (Palsson and Edwards, Eyrbyggja Saga, p. 115).
Someone seemed to be climbing the house and then straddling the roof-top above the hall, and beating his heels against the roof so that every beam in the house was cracking (Fox and Palsson, Grettirs Saga, p. 57)
The entire frame of the outer door had been broken away, and a crude hurdle tied carelessly in its place. The wooden partition which before had separated the hall from the entrance passage had also broken away, both below and above the crossbeam (Ibid.).
I can tell with truth, I say,
For I have seen all the worlds
‘neath the welkin.
Niflhel beneath nine worlds I saw,
There men die out of Hel.
(Hollander, “Vafthruthnismal,” The Poetic Edda, p. 50)
(Source: vikinganswerlady.com)
For the Vikings, the concept of the afterlife was often much more immediate than glorious skaldic tales of Valholl or the Christian’s Heaven: once the dead body was placed within the grave, it was believed to become “animated with a strange life and power” (Hilda Ellis-Davidson. The Road to Hel. Westport CT, Greenwood P., 1943. p. 96). The dead person continued a sort of pseudo-life within the grave, not as a spirit or ghost, but as an actual undead corpse similar in many respects to thenosferatu or central European vampire (Ellis-Davidson,The Road to Hel, p. 92).