SECTION XVII. THE VALKYRIES (VALKYRJUR).

As the god of war, Odin sends out his maids to choose the fallen heroes

(_kjósa val_). They are called valkyries and valmaids (_valmeyar_). The

valkyries serve in Valhal, where they bear in the drink, take care of

the drinking-horns, and wait upon the table. Odin sends them to every

field of battle, to make choice of those who are to be slain and to sway

the victory. The youngest of the norns, Skuld, also rides forth to

choose the slain and turn the combat. More than a dozen valkyries are

named in the Elder Edda, and all these have reference to the activities

of war.

This myth about Odin as the god of war, about Valhal and the valkyries,

exercised a great influence upon the mind and character of our

ancestors. The dying hero knows that the valkyries have been sent after

him to invite him home to Odin’s hall, and he receives their message

with joy and gladness. That the brave were to be taken after death to

Valhal was one of the fundamental points, if not the soul, of the Norse

religion.[54] The Norsemen felt in their hearts that it was absolutely

necessary to be brave. Odin would not care for them, but despise and

thrust them away from him, if they were not brave. And is there not some

truth in this doctrine? Is it not still a preëminent duty to be brave?

Is it not the first duty of man to subdue fear? What can we accomplish

until we have got rid of fear? A man is a slave, a coward, his very

thoughts are false, until he has got fear under his feet. Thus we find

that the Odinic doctrine, if we disentangle the real kernel and essence

of it, is true even in our times. A man must be valiant—he must march

forward and acquit himself like a man. How much of a man he is will be

determined in most cases by the completeness of his victory over fear.

Their views of Odin, Valhal and the valkyries made the Norsemen think it

a shame and misery not to die in battle; and if natural death seemed to

be coming on, they would cut wounds in their flesh, that Odin might

receive them as warriors slain. Old kings, about to die, had their

bodies laid in a ship; the ship was sent forth with sails set, and a

slow fire burning it, so that once out at sea it might blaze up in

flame, and in such manner bury worthily the hero both in the sky and in

the ocean. The Norse viking fought with an indomitable, rugged energy.

He stood in the prow of his ship, silent, with closed lips, defying the

wild ocean with its monsters, and all men and things. No Homer sang of

these Norse warriors and sea-kings, but their heroic deeds and wild

deaths are the ever-recurring theme of the skalds.

The death of the Norse viking is beautifully described in the following

strophe from Professor Hjalmar Hjorth Boyesen’s poem, entitled _Odin’s

Ravens_:

In the prow with head uplifted

Stood the chief like wrathful Thor;

Through his locks the snow-flakes drifted

Bleached their hue from gold to hoar.

Mid the crash of mast and rafter

Norsemen leaped through death with laughter

Up through Valhal’s wide-flung door.

Regner Lodbrok thus ends his famous song, the Krákumál:

Cease, my strain! I hear a voice

From realms where martial souls rejoice;

I hear the maids of slaughter call,

Who bid me hence to Odin’s hall:

High-seated in their blest abodes

I soon shall quaff the drink of gods.

The hours of life have glided by,

I fall, but smiling shall I die.

And in the death-song of Hakon (_Hákonarmál_) we find the valkyries

Gondul and Skogul in the heat of battle:

The god Tyr sent

Gondul and Skogul

To choose a king

Of the race of Ingve,

To dwell with Odin

In roomy Valhal.

The battle being described, the skald continues:

When lo! Gondul,

Pointing with her spear,

Said to her sister,

Soon shall increase

The band of the gods:

To Odin’s feast

Hakon is bidden.

The king beheld

The beautiful maids

Sitting on their horses

In shining armor,

Their shields before them,

Solemnly thoughtful.

The king heard

The words of their lips,

Saw them beckon

With pale hands,

And thus bespoke them:

Mighty goddesses,

Were we not worthy

You should choose us

A better doom?

Skogul answered:

Thy foes have fallen,

Thy land is free,

Thy fame is pure;

Now we must ride

To greener worlds,

To tell Odin

That Hakon comes.

An interpretation of the valkyries is not necessary. The god of war

sends his thoughts and his will to the carnage of the battle-field in

the form of mighty armed women, in the same manner as he sends his

ravens over all the earth.

Ethically considered, then, Odin symbolizes the matchless hope of

victory that inspired the Norsemen, and from which their daring exploits

sprang; and we know that this hope of victory did not leave the hero

when he fell bleeding on the field of battle, but followed him borne in

valkyrian arms to Valhal, and thence he soared on eagle pinions to Gimle

on the everlasting hights.

Footnote 35:

Compare _Shakespeare_—Shylock and the pound of flesh:

... No jot of blood;

The words expressly are “a pound of flesh.”

Footnote 36:

Freyja, whom the gods had promised the giant, was Oder’s wife.

Footnote 37:

Jack the Giant-killer.

Footnote 38:

The vala, or prophetess.

Footnote 39:

Odin.

Footnote 40:

Odin.

Footnote 41:

See Vocabulary under the word _Mimer_.

Footnote 42:

He who hardens the hide.

Footnote 43:

Fence-breaker.

Footnote 44:

Compare with this myth Dido and the founding of Carthage.

Footnote 45:

Rind was daughter of Billing.

Footnote 46:

The goddess of the sea.

Footnote 47:

Suttung.

Footnote 48:

Ygdrasil.

Footnote 49:

Roots of trees were especially fitted for hurtful trolldom

(witchcraft). They produced mortal wounds.

Footnote 50:

The old heathen Norsemen sprinkled their children with water when they

named them.

Footnote 51:

The waker of the people.

Footnote 52:

Odin.

Footnote 53:

If the _North American Review_, or anybody else, thinks this is proof

of barbarism, we can refer them to the monks in Trier, who preserved

the skull of Saint Theodulf and gave sick people drink from it; and we

know several other such instances. Our Norse ancestors were not, then,

in this respect any more savage than the Christian bishops and monks.

See _North American Review_, January, 1875, p. 195.

Footnote 54:

See Thomas Carlyle’s _Heroes and Hero-worship_.

CHAPTER II.

HERMOD, TYR, HEIMDAL, BRAGE, AND IDUN.

SECTION I. HERMOD.

Odin’s sons are emanations of his own being. As the god of war, warlike

valor is one of his servants, and honor another. He invents the art of

poetry, but the execution of it he leaves to his son Brage. He does not

meddle with thunder, having left this work of a lower order to his son

Thor. He is the father of light and darkness, and he leaves the

beneficent light to diffuse itself and struggle with darkness

independently (Balder and Hoder). Nor does he himself watch the rainbow,

but let the watchful Heimdal take care of it.

Hermod (the valiant in combat) was the son of Odin and messenger of the

gods. Odin himself gave him helmet and corselet, the means by which to

display his warlike character, and he is sent on all dangerous missions.

Of his many exploits the most important one is when he was sent on

Sleipner to Hel to bring Balder back. It was Hermod and Brage who were

sent to bid Hakon, the king, welcome, when he arrived at Valhal.

SECTION II. TYR.

Tyr’s name is preserved in Tuesday. He is the god of martial honor

(compare the German _Zier_). Tyr is the most daring and intrepid of all

the gods. It is he who dispenses valor in war; hence warriors do well to

invoke him. It has become proverbial to say of a man who surpasses all

others in valor, that he is Tyr-strong, or valiant as Tyr. A man noted

for his wisdom is also said to be wise as Tyr. He gives a splendid proof

of his intrepidity when the gods try to persuade the wolf Fenrer, as we

shall see hereafter, to let himself be bound up with the chain Gleipner.

The wolf fearing that the gods would never afterwards unloose him,

consented to be bound only on the condition that while they were

chaining him he should keep Tyr’s hand between this jaws. Tyr did not

hesitate to put his hand in the monster’s mouth, but when the Fenriswolf

perceived that the gods had no intention to unchain him, he bit the hand

off at that point which has ever since been called the wolf’s joint

(_úlfliðr_), the wrist. From that time Tyr has but one hand.

Tyr is the son of Odin, and it is through him the latter, as the god of

war, awakens wild courage. Thus he is the god of honor, and when the

noble gods desire to tame the raging flames he naturally has to arouse

all his courage and even sacrifice a part of himself, just as we

frequently have to sacrifice some of our comforts to keep clear of

rogues and scoundrels.

SECTION III. HEIMDAL. (HEIMDALLR).

Heimdal is the son of Odin, and is called the white god (_hvíti áss_,

the pure, innocent god). He is the son of nine virgins, who were

sisters, and is a very sacred and powerful deity. Thus he says in the

Elder Edda:

Born was I of mothers nine,

Son I am of sisters nine.

He also bears the appellation of the gold-toothed, for his teeth were of

pure gold, and the appellation Hallinskide (_hallinskiði_, the owner of

the vaulted arch). His horse is called Gulltop (_goldtop_), and he

dwells in Himminbjorg, the mountains of heaven, at the end of Bifrost,

the rainbow. He is the warder of the gods, and is therefore placed on

the borders of heaven to prevent the giants from forcing their way over

the bridge. He requires less sleep than a bird and sees by night as well

as by day a hundred miles around him. So acute is his ear that no sound

escapes him, for he can even hear the grass growing on the earth and the

wool on a sheep’s back. He has a horn called Gjallar-horn, which is

heard throughout the universe. Thus the Elder Edda, in the lay of

Grimner:

’Tis Himminbjorg called

Where Heimdal they say

Hath dwelling and rule.

There the gods’ warder drinks

In peaceful old halls

Gladsome the good mead.

Heimdal has a sword called Hofud (head); he figures at the death of

Balder and appears in Ragnarok. Physically interpreted, Heimdal is the

god of the rainbow, but the brilliant rainbow most beautifully

symbolizes the favoring grace of the gods. The rainbow itself is called

_ásbrú_ (asabridge) or Bifrost (the trembling way), and he who has seen

a perfect rainbow can appreciate how this resplendent arch among all

races has served as a symbol of peace, the bridge between heaven and

earth, the bridge connecting the races of the earth with the gods. Did

not God in Genesis set his bow in the cloud that it should be for a

token of a covenant between him and the earth? And when our poor

laboring masses get their taste cultivated for poetry, art, and

mythological lore,—when they have learned to appreciate our common

inheritance,—they will find that our Gothic history, folk-lore and

mythology together form

A link

That binds us to the skies,

A bridge of _rainbows_ thrown across

The gulf of tears and sighs.[55]

In Greece we find the goddess Iris as the impersonation of the rainbow;

while in the Bible the rainbow is not personified, and in no

mythological system does the graceful divinity of the rainbow enter so

prominently into the affairs of men as does our Heimdal. In the first

verse of Völuspá, all mankind is called the sons of Heimdal, and this

thought is developed in a separate lay in the Elder Edda, called

Rigsmál, the lay of Rig (Heimdal), to which the reader is referred.

SECTION IV. BRAGE AND IDUN.

Brage is the son of Odin, and Idun is Brage’s wife. Brage is celebrated

for his wisdom, but more especially for his eloquence and correct forms

of speech. He is not only eminently skilled in poetry, but the art

itself is from his name called _Brage_, which epithet is also used to

denote a distinguished poet or poetess. Runes are risted on his tongue.

He wears a long flowing beard, and persons with heavy beard are called

after him, beard-brage (_skeggbragi_). His wife Idun (_Iðunn_) keeps in

a box the apples which the gods, when they feel old age approaching,

have only to taste of to become young again. It is in this manner they

will be kept in renovated youth until Ragnarok. This is a great treasure

committed to the guardianship and good faith of Idun, and it shall be

related how great a risk the gods once ran.

At the feast after the death of a king or jarl, it was customary among

the Norsemen for the heir to occupy a lower bench in front of the chief

seat, until Brage’s bowl was brought in. Then he arose, made a pledge,

and drank the cup of Brage. After that he was conducted into the seat of

his father.

At the sacrificial feasts of the Norsemen, the conductor of the

sacrifice consecrated the drinking-horns as well as the sacrificed food.

The guests first drank Odin’s horn, for the victory and rule of the

king; next they drank Njord’s and Frey’s horns, for prosperous seasons

and for peace; and then many were accustomed to drink a horn to Brage,

the god of poetry. A characteristic ceremony in connection with this

horn was, that when the bowl was raised, the promise of performing some

great deed was made, which might furnish material for the songs of the

skalds. This makes the character of Brage perfectly clear.

Idun’s name is derived from the root _ið_, and expresses a constant

activity and renovation, which idea becomes more firmly established by

the following myth.

SECTION V. IDUN AND HER APPLES.

Æger, the god of the sea, who was well skilled in magic, went to Asgard,

where the gods gave him a very good reception. Supper-time having come,

the twelve mighty gods, together with the goddesses Frigg, Freyja,

Gefjun, Idun, Gerd, Sigun, Fulla, and Nanna, seated themselves on their

lofty doom seats, in a hall around which were arranged swords of such

surpassing brilliancy that no other light was necessary. While they were

emptying their capacious drinking-horns, Æger, who sat next to Brage,

requested him to relate something concerning the asas. Brage instantly

complied with his request by informing him of what had happened to Idun.

Once, he said, when Odin, Loke and Hœner went on a journey, they came to

a valley where a herd of oxen were grazing, and, being sadly in want of

provisions, did not scruple to kill one for their supper. Vain, however,

were their efforts to boil the flesh; they found it, every time they

took the lid off the kettle, as raw as when first put in. While they

were endeavoring to account for this singular circumstance a noise was

heard above them, and on looking up they beheld an enormous eagle

perched on the branch of an oak tree. If you are willing to let me have

my share of the flesh, said the eagle, it shall soon be boiled. And on

assenting to this proposal it flew down and snatched up a leg and two

shoulders of the ox—a proceeding which so incensed Loke that he picked

up a large pole and made it fall pretty heavily on the eagle’s back. It

was, however, not an eagle that Loke struck, but the renowned giant

Thjasse, clad in his eagle-plumage. Loke soon found this out to his

sorrow, for while one end of the pole stuck fast to the eagle’s back, he

was unable to let go his hold of the other end, and was consequently

trailed by the eagle-clad giant over rocks and forests until he was

almost torn to pieces, and he thought his arms would be pulled off at

the shoulders. Loke in this predicament began to sue for peace, but

Thjasse told him that he should never be released from his hold until he

bound himself by a solemn oath to bring Idun and her apples out of

Asgard. Loke very willingly gave his oath to bring about this, and went

back in a piteous plight to his companions.

On his return to Asgard, Loke told Idun that in a forest not very far

from the celestial residence he had found apples growing, which he

thought were of a much better quality than her own, and that at all

events it was worth while to make a comparison between them. Idun,

deceived by his words, took her apples and went with him into the

forest, but they had no sooner entered it than Thjasse, clad in his

eagle-plumage, flew rapidly toward them, and, catching up Idun, carried

her and her treasure off with him to Jotunheim. The gods being thus

deprived of their renovating apples, soon became wrinkled and gray, old

age was creeping fast upon them when they discovered that Loke had been,

as usual, the contriver of all the mischief that had befallen them.

Inquiry was made about Idun in the assembly which was called, and the

last anybody knew about her was that she had been seen going out of

Asgard in company with Loke. They therefore threatened him with torture

and death if he did not instantly hit upon some expedient for bringing

back Idun and her apples to Asgard. This threat terrified Loke, and he

promised to bring her back from Jotunheim if Freyja would lend him her

falcon-plumage. He got the falcon-plumage of Freyja, flew in it to

Jotunheim, and finding that Thjasse was out at sea fishing, he lost no

time in transforming Idun into a nut and flying off with her in his

claws. But when Thjasse returned and became aware of what had happened,

he put on his eagle-plumage and flew after them. When the gods saw Loke

approach, holding Idun changed into a nut between his claws, and Thjasse

with his outspread eagle-wings ready to overtake him, they placed on the

walls of Asgard bundles of chips, which they set fire to the instant

Loke had flown over them; and as Thjasse could not stop his flight, the

fire caught his plumage, and he thus fell into the power of the gods,

who slew him within the portals of the celestial residence.

When these tidings came to Thjasse’s daughter, Skade (_Skaði_, German

_Schade_, harm), she put on her armor and went to Asgard, fully

determined to avenge her father’s death; but the gods having declared

their willingness to atone for the deed, an amicable arrangement was

entered into. Skade was to choose a husband in Asgard, and the gods were

to make her laugh, a feat which she flattered herself it would be

impossible for any one to accomplish. Her choice of a husband was to be

determined by a mere inspection of the feet of the gods, it being

stipulated that the feet should be the only part of their persons

visible until she had made known her determination. In inspecting the

row of feet placed before her, Skade took a fancy to a pair which from

their fine proportions she thought certainly must be those of Balder. I

choose these, she said, for on Balder there is nothing unseemly. The

feet were however Njord’s, and Njord was given her for a husband; and as

Loke managed to make her laugh by playing some diverting antics with a

goat, the atonement was fully effected. It is even said that Odin did

more than had been stipulated, by taking out Thjasse’s eyes and placing

them to shine as stars in the firmament.

This myth, interpreted by the visible workings of nature, means that

Idun (the ever-renovating spring) being in the possession of Thjasse

(the desolating winter), all the gods—that is, all nature—languishes

until she is delivered from her captivity. On this being effected, her

presence again diffuses joy and gladness, and all things revive; while

her pursuer, winter, with his icy breath, dissolves in the solar rays

indicated by the fires lighted on the walls of Asgard. The wintry blasts

rage so fearfully in the flames, that the flesh cannot be boiled, and

the wind even carries a burning (Loke) stick with it. The ethical

interpretation will suggest itself to every reader, and Idun is to

Brage, who sings among the trees and by the musical brooks of spring,

what a poetical contemplation of the busy forces of nature in producing

blossoms and ripening fruit must always be to every son of Brage.

Footnote 55:

Barry Cornwall.

CHAPTER III.

BALDER AND NANNA, HODER, VALE AND FORSETE.

SECTION I. BALDER.

Balder is the favorite of all nature, of all the gods and of men. He is

son of Odin and Frigg, and it may be truly said of him that he is the

best god, and that all mankind are loud in his praise. So fair and

dazzling is he in form and features, that rays of light seem to issue

from him; and we may form some idea of the beauty of his hair when we

know that the _whitest of all plants_ is called _Balder’s brow_.[56]

Balder is the mildest, the wisest and the most eloquent of all the gods,

yet such is his nature that the judgment he has pronounced can never be

altered. He dwells in the heavenly mansion called Breidablik (the

broad-shining splendor), into which nothing unclean can enter. Thus the

Elder Edda, in the lay of Grimner:

Breidablik is the seventh,

Where Balder has

Built for himself a hall,

In that land

In which I know exists

The fewest crimes.

SECTION II. THE DEATH OF BALDER THE GOOD.

This was an event which the asas deemed of great importance. Balder the

Good having been tormented by terrible dreams, indicating that his life

was in great peril, communicated them to the assembled gods, who,

sorrow-stricken, resolved to conjure all things to avert from him the

threatened danger. Then Frigg exacted an oath from fire and water, from

iron and all other metals, as well as from stones, earths, diseases,

beasts, birds, poisons, and creeping things, that none of them would do

any harm to Balder. Still Odin feared that the prosperity of the gods

had vanished. He saddled his Sleipner and rode down to Niflheim, where

the dog from Hel met him; it was bloody on the breast and barked a long

time at Odin. Odin advanced; the earth trembled beneath him, and he came

to the high dwelling of Hel. East of the door he knew the grave of the

vala was situated; thither he rode and sang magic songs (_kvað galdra_),

until she unwillingly stood up and asked who disturbed her peace, after

she had been lying so long covered with snow and wet with dew. Odin

called himself Vegtam, a son of Valtam, and asked for whom the benches

were strewn with rings and the couches were swimming in gold. She

replied that the mead was brewed for Balder, but all the gods would

despair. When Odin asked further who should be Balder’s bane, she

answered that Hoder would hurl the famous branch and become the bane of

Odin’s son; but Rind should give birth to a son who, only one night old,

should wield a sword, and would neither wash his hands nor comb his hair

before he had avenged his brother. But recognizing Odin by an

enigmatical question, she said: You are not Vegtam, as I believed, but

you are Odin, the old ruler. Odin replied: You are no vala, but the

mother of three giants. Then the vala told Odin to ride home and boast

of his journey, but assured him that no one should again visit her thus

before Loke should be loosed from his chains and the ruin of the gods

had come. Thus the lay of Vegtam in the Elder Edda:

Together were the gods

All in council,

And the goddesses

All in conference;

And they consulted

The mighty gods,

Why Balder had

Oppressive dreams.

To that god his slumber

Was most afflicting;

His auspicious dreams

Seemed departed.

They the giants questioned,

Wise seers of the future,

Whether this might not

Forebode calamity.

The responses said

That to death destined was

Uller’s kinsman,

Of all the dearest:

That caused grief

To Frigg and Svafner,

And to the other powers,—

On a course they resolved:

That they would send

To every being,

Assurance to solicit,

Balder not to harm.

All species swore

Oaths to spare him:

Frigg received all

Their vows and compacts.

Valfather fears

Something defective;

He thinks the haminjes[57]

May have departed;

The gods he convenes,

Their counsel craves;

At the deliberation

Much is devised.

Up stood Odin,

Lord of men,

And on Sleipner he

The saddle laid;

Rode he thence down

To Niflheim.

A dog he met,

From Hel coming.

It was blood-stained

On its breast,

On its slaughter-craving throat,

And nether jaw.

It barked

And widely gaped

At the father of magic song;

Long it howled.

Forth rode Odin—

The ground thundered—

Till to Hel’s lofty

House he came;

Then rode Ygg (Odin)

To the eastern gate,

Where he knew there was

A vala’s grave.

To the prophetess he began

A magic song to chant,

Toward the north looked,

Potent runes applied,

A spell pronounced,

An answer demanded,

Until compelled she rose

And with death-like voice she said:

THE VALA:

What man is this,

To me unknown,

Who has for me increased

An irksome course?

I have with snow been decked,

By rain beaten,

And with dew moistened,—

Long have I been dead.

VEGTAM:

Vegtam is my name,

I am Valtam’s son.

Tell thou me of Hel;

From earth I call on thee.

For whom are these benches

Strewed o’er with rings,—

Those costly couches

O’erlaid with gold?

THE VALA:

Here stands mead

For Balder brewed,

Over the bright drink

A shield is laid;

But the race of gods

Is in despair.

By compulsion I have spoken,

Now will I be silent.

VEGTAM:

Be not silent, vala!

I will question thee

Until all I know:

I will yet know

Who will Balder’s

Slayer be

And Odin’s son

Of life bereave.

THE VALA:

Hoder will hither

His glorious brother send;

He of Balder will

The slayer be,

And Odin’s son

Of life bereave.

By compulsion I have spoken,

Now will I be silent.

VEGTAM:

Be not silent, vala!

I will question thee

Until all I know:

I will yet know

Who on Hoder vengeance

Will inflict,

Or Balder’s slayer

Raise on the pile.

THE VALA:

Rind a son shall bear

In the wintry halls:

He shall slay Odin’s son,

When one night old.

He a hand will not wash,

Nor his hair comb,

Ere to the pile he has borne

Balder’s adversary.

By compulsion I have spoken,

Now will I be silent.

VEGTAM:

Be not silent, vala!

I will question thee

Until all I know:

I will yet know

Who are the maids

That weep at will

And heavenward cast

Their neck-veils.

Tell me that;

Till then thou sleepest not.

THE VALA:

Not Vegtam art thou,

As I before believed;

Rather art thou Odin,

Lord of men.

ODIN:

Thou art no vala,

Nor wise woman;

Rather art thou the mother

Of three thurses (giants).

THE VALA:

Home ride thou, Odin!

And exult.

Thus shall never more

Man again visit me

Until Loke free

From his bonds escapes,

And Ragnarok

All-destroying comes.

When it had been made known that nothing in the world would harm Balder,

it became a favorite pastime of the gods, at their meetings, to get

Balder to stand up and serve them as a mark, some hurling darts at him,

some stones, while others hewed at him with their swords and

battle-axes; for whatever they did none of them could harm him, and this

was regarded by all as a great honor shown to Balder. But when Loke

Laufeyarson beheld the scene he was sorely vexed that Balder was not

hurt. Assuming, therefore, the guise of a woman he went to Fensal, the

mansion of Frigg. That goddess, seeing the pretended woman, inquired of

her whether she knew what the gods were doing at their meetings. The

woman (Loke) replied that they were throwing darts and stones at Balder,

without being able to hurt him.

Ay, said Frigg, neither metal nor wood can hurt Balder, for I have

exacted an oath from all of them.

What! exclaimed the woman, have all things sworn to spare Balder?

All things, replied Frigg, except one little shrub that grows on the

eastern side of Valhal, and is called mistletoe, and which I thought too

young and feeble to crave an oath from.

As soon as Loke heard this he went away, and, resuming his natural form,

pulled up the mistletoe and repaired to the place where the gods were

assembled. There he found Hoder standing far to one side without

engaging in the sport, on account of his blindness. Loke going up to him

said: Why do not you also throw something at Balder?

Because I am blind, answered Hoder, and cannot see where Balder is, and

besides I have nothing to throw with.

Come then, said Loke, do like the rest, and show honor to Balder by

throwing this twig at him, and I will direct your arm toward the place

where he stands.

Hoder then took the mistletoe, and under the guidance of Loke darted it

at Balder, who, pierced through and through, fell down lifeless. Surely

never was there witnessed, either among gods or men, a more atrocious

deed than this! When Balder fell the gods were struck speechless with

horror, and then they looked at each other; and all were of one mind to

lay hands on him who had done the deed, but they were obliged to delay

their vengeance out of respect for the sacred place (place of peace)

where they were assembled. They at length gave vent to their grief by

such loud lamentations that they were not able to express their grief to

one another. Odin, however, felt this misfortune most severely, because

he knew best how great was the mischief and the loss which the gods had

sustained by the death of Balder. When the gods were a little composed,

Frigg asked who among them wished to gain all her love and favor by

riding to the lower world to try and find Balder, and offer a ransom to

Hel if she will permit Balder to return to Asgard; whereupon Hermod,

surnamed the Nimble, offered to undertake the journey. Odin’s horse,

Sleipner, was then led forth and prepared for the journey; Hermod

mounted him and galloped hastily away.

The god then took the dead body of Balder and carried it to the sea,

where lay Balder’s ship, Ringhorn, which was the largest of all ships.

But when they wanted to launch this ship, in order to make Balder’s

funeral pile on it, they were unable to move it from the place. In this

predicament they sent a messenger to Jotunheim for a certain giantess

named Hyrroken (the smoking fire), who came riding on a wolf and had

twisted serpents for her reins. As soon as she alighted Odin ordered

four berserks to hold her steed, but they were obliged to throw the

animal down on the ground before they could manage it. Hyrroken then

went to the prow of the ship, and with a single push set it afloat; but

the motion was so violent that fire sparkled from the underlaid rollers

and the whole earth shook. Thor, enraged at the sight, grasped his

mallet and would have broken the woman’s skull, had not the gods

interceded for her. Balder’s body was then carried to the funeral pile

on board the ship, and this ceremony had such an effect upon Balder’s

wife, Nanna, daughter of Nep, that her heart broke with grief, and her

body was laid upon the same pile and burned with that of her husband.

Thor stood beside the pile and consecrated it with his hammer Mjolner.

Before his feet sprang up a dwarf called Lit. Thor kicked him with his

foot into the fire, so that he also was burned. There was a vast

concourse of various kinds of people at Balder’s funeral procession.

First of all came Odin, accompanied by Frigg, the valkyries, and his

ravens. Then came Frey in his chariot, drawn by the boar Gullinburste

(gold-brush), or Slidrugtanne (the sharp-toothed). Heimdal rode his

horse Goldtop, and Freyja drove in her chariot drawn by cats. There were

also a great number of frost-giants and mountain-giants present. Odin

cast upon the funeral pile the famous ring Draupner, which had been made

for him by the dwarfs, and possessed the property of producing every

ninth night eight rings of equal weight. Balder’s horse, fully

caparisoned, was also laid upon the pile, and consumed in the same

flames with the body of his master.

Meanwhile Hermod was proceeding on his mission. Of him it is to be

related that he rode nine days and as many nights through dark and deep

valleys, so dark that he could not discern anything, until he came to

the river Gjol and passed over the Gjallar bridge (bridge over the river

Gjol), which is covered with glittering gold. Modgud, the maiden who

kept the bridge, asked him his name and parentage, and added that the

day before five fylkes (kingdoms, bands) of dead men had ridden over the

bridge; but, she said, it did not shake as much beneath all of them

together as it does under you alone, and you have not the complexion of

the dead; why then do you ride here on your way to Hel? I ride to Hel,

answered Hermod, to seek for Balder; have you perchance seen him pass

this way? She replied that Balder had ridden over the Gjallar bridge,

and that the road to the abodes of death (to Hel) lay downward and

toward the north.

Hermod then continued his journey until he came to the barred gates of

Hel. Then he alighted from his horse, drew the girths tighter, remounted

him and clapped both spurs into him. The horse cleared the gate with a

tremendous leap without touching it. Hermod then rode forward to the

palace, alighted and went in, where he found his brother Balder

occupying the most distinguished seat in the hall, and spent the night

in his company. The next morning he entreated Hel (death) to let Balder

ride home with him, representing to her the sorrow which prevailed among

the gods. Hel replied that it should now be tried whether Balder was so

universally beloved as he was said to be; if therefore, she added, all

things in the world, the living as well as the lifeless, will weep for

him, then he shall return to the gods, but if anything speak against him

or refuse to weep, then Hel will keep him.

After this Hermod rose up. Balder went with him out of the hall and gave

him the ring Draupner, to present as a keepsake to Odin. Nanna sent

Frigg a carpet together with several other gifts, and to Fulla she sent

a gold finger-ring. Hermod then rode back to Asgard and related

everything that he had heard and witnessed.

The gods upon this dispatched messengers throughout all the world to

beseech everything to weep, in order that Balder might be delivered from

the power of Hel. All things very willingly complied with the

request,—men, animals, the earth, stones, trees, and all metals, just as

we see things weep when they come out of the frost into the warm air.

When the messengers were returning, with the conviction that their

mission had been quite successful, they found on their way home a

giantess (ogress, Icel. _gýgr_), who called herself Thok. They bade her

also weep Balder out of the dominion of Hel. But she answered:

Thok will weep

With dry tears[58]

For Balder’s death;

Neither in life nor in death

Gave he me gladness.

Let Hel keep what she has.

It is supposed that this giantess (_gýgr_) was no other than Loke

Laufeyarson himself, who had caused the gods so many other troubles.

Thus the Elder Edda refers to the death of Balder in Völuspá:

I saw the concealed

Fate of Balder,

The blood-stained god,

The son of Odin.

In the fields

There stood grown up,

Slender and passing fair,

The mistletoe.

From that shrub was made,

As to me it seemed,

A deadly noxious dart;

Hoder shot it forth;

But Frigg bewailed

In Fensal

Valhal’s calamity.

Understand ye yet, or what?

To conquer Vafthrudner, and to reveal himself, Odin asks him to solve

this last problem:

What said Odin

In his son’s ear,

Ere he on the pile was laid?

This is the question that Vafthrudner was unable to answer, and hence he

had to forfeit his head. N. M. Petersen thinks that Odin whispered into

Balder’s ear the name of the supreme god.

This myth about the death of Balder finds an apt explanation in the

seasons of the year, in the change from light to darkness, in Norseland.

Balder represents the bright and clear summer, when twilight and

daybreak kiss each other and go hand in hand in these northern

latitudes. His death by Hoder is the victory of darkness over light, the

darkness of winter over the light of summer, and the revenge by Vale is

the breaking forth of new light after the wintry darkness.

In this connection it is also worthy of notice that there used to be a

custom, which is now nearly forgotten, of celebrating the banishment of

death or darkness, the strife between winter and summer, together with

the arrival of the May-king and election of the May-queen. Forgotten!

yes, well may we ask how it could come to pass that we through long

centuries have worried and tortured ourselves with every scrap of Greek

and Latin we could find, without caring the least for our own beautiful

and profound memories of the past. Death was carried out in the image of

a tree and thrown in the water or burned. In the spring two men

represent summer and winter, the one clad in wintergreen or leaves, the

other in straw. They have a large company of attendants with them, armed

with staves, and they fight with each other until winter (or death) is

subdued. They prick his eyes out or throw him into the water. These

customs, which prevailed throughout the middle ages, had their root and

origin in the ancient myth given above.

No myth can be clearer than this one of Balder. The Younger Edda says

distinctly that he is so fair and dazzling in form and features that

rays of light seem to issue from him. Balder, then, is the god of light,

the light of the world. Light is the best thing we have in the world; it

is white and pure; it cannot be wounded; no shock can disturb it;

nothing in the world can kill it excepting its own negative, darkness

(Hoder). Loke (fire) is jealous of it; the pure light of heaven and the

blaze of fire are each other’s eternal enemies. Balder does not fight,

the mythology gives no exploits by him; he only shines and dazzles,

conferring blessings upon all, and this he continues to do steadfast and

unchangeable, until darkness steals upon him, darkness that does not

itself know what harm it is doing; and when Balder is dead, cries of

lamentation are heard throughout all nature. All nature seeks light.

Does not the eye of the child seek the light of the morning, and does

not the child weep when light vanishes, when night sets in? Does not

this myth of Balder repeat itself in the old man, who like Gœthe, when

death darkened his eyes, cried out: _mehr licht_ (more light)? Does not

the eagle from the loftiest pinnacle of the mountain seek light? The

lark soars on his lofty pinions and greets in warbling notes the king of

day welcome back into his kingdom. The tree firmly rooted in the ground

strains toward the light, spreading upward in search of it. The bird of

passage on his free wing flies after and follows the light. Is it not

the longing after light that draws the bird southward in the fall when

the days shorten in the north, and draws the little wanderer back again

as soon as the long northern days set in with all their luminous and

long-drawn hours? As Runeberg epigrammatically has it:

The bird of passage is of noble birth;

He bears a motto, and his motto is,

_Lux mea dux_, Light is my leader.

Nay all living things, even the shells in the sea, every leaf of the oak

and every blade of grass seeks light, and the blind poet sings:

Hail, holy light! offspring of heaven first born!

He that hath light within his own clear breast

May sit in the center and enjoy bright day;

But he that hides a dark soul and foul thoughts

Benighted walks under the midday sun.[59]

And another bard:

Light down from heaven descends,

Ether pure in flowing bowls;

Light up to heaven ascends,

A mediator for our souls.

Ay, it would be resting satisfied with the shell to interpret Balder as

the mere impersonation of the natural light of heaven. He represents and

symbolizes in the profoundest sense the heavenly light of the soul and

of the mind, purity, innocence, piety. There can be no doubt that our

ancestors combined the ethical with the physical in this myth. All light

comes from heaven. The natural light shines into and illuminates the

eye, the spiritual shines into and illuminates the heart. Innocence

cannot be wounded. Arrogance and jealousy throw their pointed arrows of

slander at it, but they fall harmless to the ground. But there is one

inclination, one unguarded spot among our other strong guarded passions.

The mischief-maker knows how to find this and innocence is pierced. When

Balder dies, a dark veil enshrouds all nature, and thus history clothes

herself in mourning, not because the hero dies, but because the innocent

Lincoln is pierced by the bullet of the foul assassin, who turns to the

night and flees. Every time light is slain by darkness it is the

beautiful and good that is stricken down, but it is never stricken down

except to return and shine with increased splendor. Balder dies in

nature when the woods are stripped of their foliage, when the flowers

fade and the storms of winter howl. Balder dies in the spiritual world

when the good are led away from the paths of virtue, when the soul

becomes dark and gloomy, forgetting its heavenly origin. Balder returns

in nature when the gentle winds of spring stir the air, when the

nightingale’s high note is heard in the heavens, and the flowers are

unlocked to paint the laughing soil, when light takes the place of gloom

and darkness; Balder returns in the spiritual world when the lost soul

finds itself again, throws off the mantle of darkness, and like a

shining spirit soars on wings of light to heaven, to God, who gave it.

The flower which is sacred to Balder, the Balder’s brow, is the

_anthemis cotula_. It is a complete flower with a yellow disc and white

rays, a symbol of the sun with its beaming light, a sunflower. What a

poetical thought! The light pouring down upon the earth from beneath

Balder’s eye-brows, and the hairs of his eye-lids are the beams. What a

theme for a Correggio, who succeeded so well in painting the innocence

of woman beaming from her half-closed eyes!

Balder’s wife is Nanna. She dies broken-hearted at his death. She is the

floral goddess who always turns her smiling face toward the sun. Her

father was Nep (_nepr_, a bud), son of Odin. Nanna’s and Balder’s

sending the ring Draupner to Odin, a carpet to Frigg, and a ring to

Fulla, has been explained heretofore, and how beautifully it symbolizes

the return of earth’s flowery carpet, with fruitfulness and abundance,

will be evident to every thoughtful reader.

The sorrow of all nature we easily understand when we know that Loke

represents fire and Balder is gone to Hel. All things weep, become damp,

when brought from the cold to the warm air, excepting fire, and we

remember that Thok, that is, Loke in disguise, wept dry tears (sparks);

but all genuine tears are caused by a change of the heart from coldness

to warmth. It is a common expression in Iceland yet to say that the

stones, when covered with dew, weep for Balder (_gráta Baldr_). Balder’s

ship, Ringhorn, is rightly called the largest of all ships. Ringhorn is

the whole world, and the whole earth is Balder’s funeral pile. The tops

of the mountains are the masts of this ship, which is round (ring) as

the whirling world.

It is time we ceased talking about our barbarous ancestors, for, if we

rightly comprehend this myth of Balder, we know that they appreciated,

nay, profoundly and poetically appreciated, the light that fills the eye

and blesses the heart, and were sensitive to the pain that cuts through

the bosom of man even into its finest and most delicate fibers. In this

myth of Balder is interwoven the most delicate feelings with the

sublimest sentiments. Read it and comprehend it. Let the ear and heart

and soul be open to the voiceless music that breathes through it. And

when you have thus read this myth, in connection with the other myths

and in connection with the best Sagas, then do not say another word

about the North not having any literature! Thanks be to the norns, that

the monks and priests, whose most zealous work it was to root out the

memories of the past and reduce the gods of our fathers to commonplace

demons, did not succeed in their devastating mission in faithful

Iceland! Thanks be to Shakespeare, that he did not forget the stern,

majestic, impartial and beautiful norns, even though he did change them

into the wrinkled witches that figure in Macbeth! Nay, that this our

ancient mythology, in spite of the wintry blasts that have swept over

it, in spite of the piercing cold to which it has been exposed at the

hand of those who thought they came with healing for the nations, in

spite of all the persecution it has suffered from monks and bishops,

professors and kings; that it, in spite of all these, has been able to

bud and blossom in our Teutonic folk-lore, our May-queens, and popular

life, is proof of the strong vital force it contained, and proof, too,

of the vigorous thought of our forefathers who preserved it. And nowhere

is this more evident than in Norway. These stories which have their root

in the Norse mythology have been handed down by word of month from

generation to generation with remarkable fidelity. Look at those long

and narrow and deep valleys of Norway! Those great clefts are deep

furrows plowed in the mountain mass in order that it might yield a

bountiful crop of folk-lore, the seed of which is the Edda mythology.

Let us give our children a share in the harvest!

SECTION III. FORSETE.

Forsete is the son of Balder and Nanna. He possesses the heavenly

mansion called Glitner, and all disputants at law who bring their cases

before him go away perfectly reconciled. His tribunal is the best that

is to be found among gods and men. Thus the Elder Edda, in the lay of

Grimner:

Glitner is the tenth mansion;

It is on gold sustained,

And also with silver decked.

There Forsete dwells

Throughout all time,

And every strife allays.

Forsete means simply _president_. The island Helgoland was formerly

called Forseteland. Justice was dealt out in Norseland during the bright

season of the year, and only while the sun was up, in the open air, in

the flowering lap of nature. The sanctity of the assembly and purity of

justice is expressed by the golden columns and the silver roof of

Glitner. The splendor of Balder shone upon his son.

Footnote 56:

The _anthemis cotula_ is generally called _Baldersbraa_ in the North.

Footnote 57:

Guardian spirits.

Footnote 58:

The sparks of fire are dry tears.

Footnote 59:

Milton.

CHAPTER IV.

THOR, HIS WIFE SIF AND SON ULLER.

SECTION I. GENERAL SYNOPSIS.

THOR (_þórr_, _þunarr_, Anglo-Saxon _þunor_, German _donner_, thunder),

after whom Thursday is named (Thor’s-day), is the chief god next after

Odin. He is a spring god, subduing the frost-giants.

Thor wears a red beard, his nature is fire, he is girded with the belt

of strength, swings a hammer in his hand, rides in a chariot drawn by

two goats, from whose hoofs and teeth sparks of fire flash, and the

scarlet cloud reflects his fiery eyes, over his head he wears a crown of

stars, under his feet rests the earth, and it shows the footprints of

his mighty steps. He is called Asathor and also Akethor (from _aka_, to

ride), and is the strongest of gods and men. He is enormously strong and

terrible when angry, but, as is so frequently the case with very strong

men, his great strength is coupled with a thoroughly inoffensive

good-nature. His realm is named Thrudvang and his mansion Bilskirner, in

which are five hundred and forty halls. It is the largest house ever

built. Thus the Elder Edda, in the lay of Grimner:

Five hundred halls

And forty more

Methinks has

Bowed Bilskirner;

Of houses roofed

There is none I know

My son’s[60] surpassing.

Thor’s chariot is drawn by two goats, called Tanngnjost and Tanngrisner.

It is from his driving about in this chariot he is called Akethor

(charioteer-Thor). He possesses three very precious articles. The first

is a mallet called Mjolner, which both the frost and mountain giants

know to their cost, when they see it hurled against them in the air; and

no wonder, for it has split many a skull of their fathers and kindred.

The second rare thing he possesses is called the belt of strength or

prowess (Megingjarder). When he girds it about him his divine strength

is redoubled. The third precious article which he possesses is his iron

gauntlet, which he is obliged to put on whenever he lays hold on the

handle of his mallet. No one is so wise as to be able to relate all

Thor’s marvelous exploits.

Now the reader will easily comprehend the following beautiful strophes

from the pen of Longfellow,[61] who has so ingeniously sprinkled his

literature with dews from Ygdrasil:

I am the god Thor,

I am the war god,

I am the Thunderer!

Here in my Northland,

My fastness and fortress,

Reign I forever!

Here amid icebergs

Rule I the nations;

This is my hammer,

Mjolner, the mighty

Giants and sorcerers

Cannot withstand it!

These are the gauntlets

Wherewith I wield it

And hurl it afar off;

This is my girdle,

Whenever I brace it

Strength is redoubled!

The light thou beholdest

Stream through the heavens,

In flashes of crimson,

Is but my red beard

Blown by the night-wind,

Affrighting the nations.

Jove is my brother;

Mine eyes are the lightning;

The wheels of my chariot

Roll in the thunder,

The blows of my hammer

Ring in the earthquake!

Force rules the world still,

Has ruled it, shall rule it;

Meekness is weakness,

Strength is triumphant;

Over the whole earth

Still is Thor’s-day!

Thor is the father of Magne, whose mother is Jarnsaxa, and of Mode. He

is the husband of Sif and step-father of Uller; he is the protector of

Asgard and Midgard, and is frequently called Midgardsveor; his servants

are Thjalfe, and the sister of the latter, Roskva. Among Thor’s several

names the most common ones are Vingthor, Vingner, and Hlorride. All this

of course has reference to him as the god of thunder. Thor, as has been

observed, is þunarr, thunder. Thrudvang, his realm, is the heavy compact

cloud, where he reigns; his mansion, Bilskirner (_bil-skirnir_), are the

flushes of lightning that for a moment (_bil_[62]) light up the heavens;

his goats, Tanngnjost (teeth-gnasher) and Tanngrisner (fire-flashing

teeth), symbolize the flashes of lightning, and so does also his red

beard. Mjolner, his hammer, is the crusher (compare the English word

_mill_[63]); his belt, Megingjarder, is the girdle of strength; his

sons, Magne and Mode, symbolize strength and courage. Vingthor is the

flying thunderstorm and Hlorride is he who rides in the flaming chariot.

His servant Thjalfe is the busy one, and Roskva is the rapid or nimble

one. That Thor is the god of thunder is also most clearly shown in the

Younger Edda, where it is related that Thor goes on foot and is obliged

every day to wade the rivers Kormt and Ormt, and two others called

Kerlaung, when he goes to sit in judgment with the other gods at the

Urdar-fount, and cannot ride, as do the other gods. If he did not walk

as he goes to the doomstead under the ash Ygdrasil, the Asabridge would

be in flames and the holy waters would become boiling hot, that is, if

Thor should drive over Bifrost in his thunder-chariot.

Thor’s wife, Sif, is another symbol of the earth. She is called the

fair-haired. Gold is called Sif’s hair on account of the myth already

related, according to which Loke cuts off her hair and gets dwarfs to

forge for her golden locks. The interpreters of mythology are not

willing to give to Sif the field waving with ripe grain, which belongs

to the god Frey, being symbolized by his boar Goldenbristle, but say

that Sif is the mountain clad with grass, in contradistinction to

Jarnsaxa, who reigns in the barren deserts. Hrungner, that is, the naked

rock, tried to win the favor of Sif, but did not succeed.

Uller is the son of Sif and the step-son of Thor. He is so well skilled

in the use of the bow, and can go so fast on his snow-skates (_skees_),

that in these arts no one can contend with him. He is also very handsome

in his person and possesses every quality of a warrior; wherefore it is

proper to invoke him in single combats. Uller’s mansion is Ydaler

(valleys of rain). From his running on skees we judge that he is a

personification of winter, and if the artist chooses him for his theme,

he must represent him standing on snow-shoes, clad in winter-suit, with

bow and arrow in his hands. We are now prepared to give some of Thor’s

adventures.

SECTION II. THOR AND HRUNGNER.

Thor had once gone eastward to crush trolls, but Odin rode on his horse,

Sleipner, to Jotunheim, and came to a giant by name Hrungner. Then asked

Hrungner what man that was, who with a helmet of gold rode through the

air and over the sea, and added that it was an extraordinarily good

horse he had. Odin replied that he would wager his head that so good a

horse could not be found in Jotunheim. Hrungner said that it was indeed

a very excellent horse, but he had one, by name Goldfax (gold-mane),

that could take much longer paces, and he immediately sprang upon his

horse and galloped away after Odin. Odin constantly kept ahead, but

Hrungner’s giant nature had become so excited that before he was himself

aware of it he had come within the gates of Asgard. When he came to the

door of the hall the gods invited him to drink, which as soon as he had

entered he demanded. Then the gods set before him the bowls out of which

Thor was accustomed to drink, and them he emptied each in one draught.

And when he had become drunk, he gave the freest vent to his loud

boastings. He was going to take Valhal, he said, and carry it off to

Jotunheim; he would demolish Asgard and kill the gods, except Freyja and

Sif, whom he would take home with him; and while Freyja was pouring the

celestial beverage into the bowls for him he remarked that he was going

to drink up all the ale of the gods. When the gods at length grew tired

of his arrogance, they named Thor, who immediately came and swung his

hammer and was very much enraged, and asked who was to blame that

dogwise giants should be permitted to drink there, or who had given

safety to Hrungner in Valhal, and why Freyja should pour ale for him as

she did at the feasts of the gods. Hrungner, looking at Thor with

anything but a friendly eye, answered that Odin had invited him and that

he was under his protection. Thor said that Hrungner should come to rue

that invitation before he came out; but the giant answered that it would

be but little honor to Asathor to kill him, unarmed as he was; it would

be a better proof of his valor if he dared contend with him at the

boundaries of his territory, at Grjottungard (_Grjóttunagarðar_).

Foolish was it also of me, continued Hrungner, to leave my shield and my

flint-stone at home; had I my weapons here we would now try a

holmgang;[64] but I declare you to be a coward if you kill me unarmed.

Thor would not excuse himself from a duel when he was challenged out on

a holm; this was something that no one had ever offered him before.

Hrungner now went his way and hastened home. This journey of Hrungner

was much talked of by the giants, and especially did his challenge of

Thor awaken their interest, and it was of great importance to them which

of the two should come out from the combat victorious. For if Hrungner,

who was the most powerful among the giants, should be conquered, they

might look for nothing but evil from Thor. They therefore made at

Grjottungard a man of clay, nine rasts (miles?) high and three rasts

broad between the shoulders; they could not find a heart corresponding

to his size, and therefore took one out of a mare; but this fluttered

and trembled when Thor came. Hrungner had a heart of hard stone, sharp

and three-cornered; his head was also of stone, and likewise his shield,

which was broad and thick, and this shield he held before himself when

he stood at Grjottungard waiting for Thor. His weapon was a flint-stone,

which he swung over his shoulders, so that it was no trifle to join in

combat with him. By his side stood the clay-giant, that is called

Mokkerkalfe (_Mökkrkálfi_), and was so extremely terrified that the

sweat poured from off him. Thor went to the holmgang together with

Thjalfe, a servant, whom he had got from a peasant by the sea. Thjalfe

ran to the place where Hrungner was standing, and said to him: You stand

unguarded, giant; you hold the shield before you, but Thor has seen you;

he comes with violence from beneath the earth and attacks you. Then

Hrungner hastily put the shield beneath his feet and stood on it, but he

seized his flint-stone with both hands. Presently he saw flashes of

lightning and heard loud crashings, and then he saw Thor in his

asamight, rushing forward with impetuous speed, swinging his hammer and

throwing it from the distance against Hrungner. The latter lifted the

flint-stone with both his hands and threw it with all his might against

the hammer; the two met in the air and the flint-stone broke into two

pieces, one piece of which fell on the ground (and hence the flint

mountains), while the other fell with such force against the head of

Thor that he fell forward to the ground; but the hammer Mjolner hit

Hrungner right in the head and crushed his skull into small pieces, he

himself falling over Thor, so that his foot lay across Thor’s neck.

Thjalfe contended with Mokkerkalfe, who fell with little honor. Then

Thjalfe went over to Thor, and was going to take Hrungner’s foot away,

but he was not able to do it. Thereupon came all the gods to

Grjottungard, when they had learned that Thor had fallen, but neither

was any one of them able to remove the foot of the giant. Then came

Magne (_magni_, strength), the son of Thor and Jarnsaxa; he was only

three nights old and he threw Hrungner’s foot off from Thor saying: It

was a great mishap, father, that I came so late; this giant, I think, I

could have slain with my fist. Thor stood up and lovingly greeted his

son, adding that he would give him the giant’s horse Goldfax; but Odin

remarked that this was wrongfully done of Thor to give the son of a hag

(_gýgjar syni_, son of Jarnsaxa) and not his father so excellent a

horse.

Thor returned home to Thrudvang, and the flint-stone sat fast in his

head. Then came a sorceress, whose name was Groa, wife of Orvandel the

Wise; she sang her magic songs over Thor until the flint-stone became

loose. But when Thor perceived this, and was just expecting that the

stone would disappear, he desired to reward Groa for her cure, and

gladden her heart. He accordingly related to her how he had waded from

the north over the rivers Elivagar and had borne Orvandel on his back in

a basket from Jotunheim; and in evidence he told her that one toe of

Orvandel had protruded from the basket and had frozen, wherefore he had

broken it off and thrown it up into the sky and made of it the star

which is called Orvandel’s toe. Finally he added that it would not be

long before Orvandel would come home again. But Groa became so delighted

with this news that she forgot all her magic songs and the flint-stone

became no looser than it was, and it sticks fast in Thor’s head yet.

Therefore no one must throw a flint-stone across the floor, for then the

stone in Thor’s head is moved. Thus sings the Skald, Thjodolf of Hvin:

We have ample evidence

Of the terrible giant’s journey

To Grjottungard,

With berg-folks’ consuming fire

The blood boiled in Meile’s brother,[65]

The moon-land trembled.

When earth’s son went

To the steel-gloved contest.

In bright flame stood

All the realms of the sky

For Uller’s step-father,

And the earth rocked;

To pieces flew Svolner’s widow

When the span of goats

Drew the sublime chariot

And its divine master

To the meeting with Hrungner.

The most prominent feature of this myth is the lightning which strikes

down among the rocks and splits them. Hrungner (from _hruga_, to

wrinkle, to heap up) is the naked, wrinkled mountains with their peaks.

Everything is made of stone. Hrungner’s heart and head and shield and

weapon were all of stone; beside him stands the clayey mountain

(Mokkerkalfe) clad in mist (_mökkr_), and the contest is at

Grjottungard, on the boundary of the stone-covered field. Thor crushes

the mountain to make way for agriculture. Thjalfe is the untiring labor,

which prepares the rock for cultivation. He advises Hrungner to protect

himself from below with his shield. The cultivation of the mountain must

begin at the foot of it; there labors the industrious farmer. When he

looks up the mountain lifts its rocky head like a huge giant of stone,

but the clouds gather around the giant’s head, the lightnings flash and

split it. Thjalfe may also be regarded as a concomitant of the

thunderstorm, and would then represent the pouring rain, as Thor had got

him from a peasant by the sea, and he contends with the mountain of

clay, from which the water pours down. Thor’s forehead may also

represent the face of the earth, from which he rises as the son of

earth, and we know that Minerva sprang forth full-grown and equipped

from the brain of Zeus. Orvandel[66] and Groa (to grow) refer to the

seed sprouting (Orvandel) and growing. Thor carries the seed in his

basket over the ice-cold streams (Elivagar), that is, he preserves

plant-life through the winter; the sprout ventures out too early in the

spring and a toe freezes off; and it is a beautiful idea that the gods

make shining stars of everything in the realm of giants that has became

useless on earth, and what more charming theme can the painter ask for

than Thor carrying on his divine shoulders the reckless Orvandel wading

through the ice streams of winter?

Before proceeding to the next myth, we will pause here for a moment and

take a cursory look at history, to see whether a few outlines of it do

not find their completest reflection in this stone-hearted myth about

Hrungner and Thor.

Hrungner on his horse _Goldfax_, racing with Odin and Sleipner, in the

most perfect manner represents the Roman _poetastry_, reveling in the

_wealth_ robbed from the nations of the earth, in rivalry with the

genuine Greek _poetry_ and philosophy; for Sleipner is Pegasos; and when

the Roman poetasters are in the hight of their glory Hrungner is

entertained at Asgard, drunk and crazy, bragging and swearing that he

will put all the gods to death excepting Sif (Fortuna) and Freyja

(Venus), destroy Asgard and move Valhal to Jotunheim; or, in other

words, Venus and Fortuna are the only divinities that shall be

worshiped; all religion (Asgard) shall be rooted out and history

(Valhal) shall only serve to glorify Rome.

But in the course of time the North begins to take part in determining

the destinies of the world; Thor comes home, and shortly afterwards a

duel is fought between the Goth and Roman (Vandal) in which Rome is

worsted, which could not be expressed more fitly than by the fortunate

blow of Mjolner, which crushes the stone-hearted and stone-headed Giant

(Roman Vandalism).

But the Goth becomes Romanized, he becomes a slave of Roman thought and

Roman civilization, and thus Hrungner falls upon Thor, with his foot

upon Thor’s neck, until his son Magne comes and takes it away. Magne is

the Anglo-Saxon who created a Gothic Christianity and a Gothic

book-speech; and well might the Anglo-Saxon be called Magne, son of

Asathor and the hag Jarnsaxa, for Magne is the mythical representation

of the mechanical arts, which have received their most perfect

development in England and America (the Anglo-Saxons). And we need only

to look at the literature of England and America to observe with what

pleasure Magne (the Anglo-Saxon) is a great child, who rides the horse

Goldfax (the Latin language), at which Odin (the Goth) may well complain

that it was wrongfully done, although the spirit of the North (Odin)

might rather envy the horse (Romanism) its rider than the rider (the

Anglo-Saxon) his horse.

In regard to the piece of flint-stone that remained in Thor’s forehead,

and sticks there yet, we know, alas! that it is too true that the

schools and the literature of all the Teutonic races suffer more or less

from the curse of Romanism; and this they suffer in spite of the German

sorceress Groa (Luther), who in the sixteenth century loosened the ugly

Roman popery in Thor’s forehead, without his getting rid of it; for he

began boasting too soon, and Groa (the Lutheran Reformation) became so

glad on account of her husband with his frozen toe (German scholasticism

and soulless philosophy elevated to the skies), that she forgot not her

Latin but her magic Teutonic songs; and hence we look in vain for a

complete system of German mythology and old German poetry.

Who the Mokkerkalfe who assisted Hrungner is, in this picture, it is

difficult to say, unless it be the Arab, and he may well be called a

brother of the Roman (Hrungner) against Thor. The Mokkerkalfe had a

mare’s heart in him, and we know that love of horses has forever been a

characteristic of the Arabs; and the Frank, who defeated the Arab on the

historical arena, must then be Thjalfe, who was a servant of Thor.

Thus this myth is disposed of and its application in a prophetic sense

has been pointed out. It is not claimed that the ancient Norsemen had in

their minds Arabs and Greeks and Romans and Franks and Anglo-Saxons, but

that they had in their minds a profound comprehension of the relations

of things, the supreme law of the universe; and history is but the

reflection of the sublimest riddles in nature.

SECTION III. THOR AND GEIRROD.[67]

It is worth relating how Thor made a journey to Geirrodsgard without his

hammer Mjolner, or belt Megingjarder, or his iron gloves; and that was

Loke’s fault. For when Loke once, in Frigg’s falcon-guise, flew out to

amuse himself, curiosity led him to Geirrodsgard, where he saw a large

hall. He sat down and looked in through an opening in the wall, but

Geirrod observed him and ordered one of his servants to seize the bird

and bring it to him. But the wall was so high that it was difficult to

climb up, and it amused Loke that it gave the servant so much trouble,

and he thought was time enough to fly away when the servant had got over

the worst. As the latter now caught at him, he spread his wings and made

efforts (stritted) with his feet, but the feet were fast, so that he was

seized and brought to the giant. When the latter saw his eyes he

mistrusted that it was no bird; and when Loke was silent and refused to

answer the questions put to him, Geirrod locked him down in a chest and

let him hunger for three months. Thus Loke finally had to confess who he

was, and to save his life he had to make an oath to Geirrod that he

should get Thor to Geirrodsgard without his hammer or his belt of

strength.

On the way Thor visited the hag Grid, mother of Vidar the Silent. She

informed him, in regard to Geirrod, that he was a dogwise and dangerous

giant, and she lent him her belt of strength, her iron gloves and her

staff, which is called Gridarvold. Thor then went to the river Vimer,

which is exceedingly large; then he buckled the belt around him and

stemmed the wild torrent with his staff, but Loke and Thjalfe held

themselves fast in the belt. When he had come into the middle of the

river it grew so much that the waves washed over his shoulders. Then

quoth Thor:

Wax not, Vimer,

Since to wade I desire

To the realms of giants!

Know, if thou waxest

Then waxes my asamight

As high as the heavens!

Up in a cleft he saw Geirrod’s daughter, Gjalp, who stood on both sides

of the stream and caused its growth; then took he a large stone and

threw after her. At its source the stream must be stemmed, and he always

hit what he aimed at. At the same time he reached the land and got hold

of a shrub, and so he escaped out of the river; hence comes the adage

that a shrub saved Thor. When Thor with his companions had now come to

Geirrod, lodgings were given them in a house, but there was only one

chair in it, and on this Thor sat down. Then he noticed that the chair

was raised under him toward the roof. He then put Grid’s staff against

the beams and pressed himself down against the chair; then a noise was

heard, upon which followed a great screaming, for Geirrod’s daughters,

Gjalp and Greip, had been sitting under the chair and he had broken the

backs of both or them. Then quoth Thor:

Once I employed

My asamight

In the realm of giants,

When Gjalp and Greip,

Geirrod’s daughters,

Wanted to lift me to heaven.

Then Geirrod invited Thor into the hall to see games. Large fires burned

along the hall, and when Thor had come opposite to Geirrod the latter

took with a pair of tongs a red-hot iron wedge and threw it after Thor;

he seized it with the iron gloves and lifted it up into the air, but

Geirrod ran behind an iron post to defend himself. Thor threw the wedge,

which struck through the post and through Geirrod and through the wall,

so that it went outside and into the ground.

Geirrod is the intense heat which produces violent thunderstorms, and

hence his daughter the violent torrent. Of course Loke (fire) is locked

up and starved through the hottest part of the summer; but this myth

needs no explanation, and we proceed to the next.

SECTION IV. THOR AND SKRYMER.

One day the god Thor, accompanied by Loke, set out on a journey in his

car drawn by his goats. Night coming on, they put up at a peasant’s

cottage, when Thor killed his goats, and, after flaying them, put them

in a kettle. When the flesh was boiled he sat down with his

fellow-traveler to supper, and invited the peasant and his wife and

their children to partake of the repast. The peasant’s son was named

Thjalfe and his daughter Roskva. Thor bade them throw all the bones into

the goats’ skins, which were spread out near the fireplace, but young

Thjalfe broke one of the shank-bones to come at the marrow. Thor having

passed the night in the cottage, rose at the dawn of day, and when he

had dressed himself he took his hammer, Mjolner, and, lifting it up,

consecrated the goats’ skins, which he had no sooner done than the two

goats reassumed their wonted form, with the exception that one of them

limped on one of its hind legs. Thor, perceiving this, said that the

peasant or one of his family had handled the shank-bone of this goat too

roughly, for he saw clearly that it was broken. It may readily be

imagined how frightened the peasant was, when he saw Thor knit his brows

and seize the handle of his hammer with such force that the knuckles of

his fingers grew white with the exertion. But the peasant, as we might

expect, and his whole family, screamed aloud, sued for peace, and

offered all they possessed as an atonement for the offense committed.

But when Thor saw their fright he desisted from his wrath and became

appeased, and he contented himself by requiring their children, Thjalfe

and Roskva, who thus became his servants and have accompanied him ever

since. Thor let his goats remain there, and proceeded eastward on the

way to Jotunheim clear to the sea. Then he went across the deep ocean,

and when he came to the other shore he landed with Loke, Thjalfe and

Roskva. They had traveled but a short distance when they came to a large

forest, through which they wandered until night set in. Thjalfe was

exceedingly fleet-footed; he carried Thor’s provision-sack, but the

forest was a bad place for finding anything eatable to stow into it.

When it had become dark they looked around for lodgings for the night

and found a house. It was very large, with a door that took up the whole

breadth of one of the ends of the building; here they chose them a place

to sleep in. At midnight they were alarmed by a great earthquake. The

earth trembled beneath them and the whole house shook. Then Thor stood

up and called his companions to seek with him a place of safety. On the

right they found an adjoining chamber, into which they entered; but

while the others, trembling with fear, crept into the farthest corner of

this retreat, Thor remained in the doorway, with his hammer in his hand,

prepared to defend himself whatever might happen. Then they heard a

rumbling and roaring. When the morning began to dawn, Thor went out and

saw a man lying a short distance from the house in the woods. The giant

was large, lay sleeping, and snored loudly. Then Thor could understand

whence the noise had come in the night. He girded himself with his belt

of strength, and his divine strength grew; at the same time the man

awoke and arose hastily. But it is related that Thor on this occasion

became so amazed that he forgot to make use of his mallet; he asked the

man for his name, however. The latter answered that his name was

Skrymer; but your name I do not need to ask about, said he; I know you

are Asathor; but what have you done with my mitten? Thereupon Skrymer

stretched out his hand and picked up his mitten, which Thor then

perceived was what they had taken over night for a house, the chamber

where they had taken refuge being the thumb. Skrymer asked whether Thor

wanted him for a traveling companion, and when Thor consented to this,

Skrymer untied his provision-sack and began to eat his breakfast. Thor

and his companions did the same in another place. Then Skrymer proposed

that they should put their provisions together, and when Thor gave his

consent to this, Skrymer put all the food into one sack and slung it on

his back. He went before them all day with tremendous strides, but

toward evening he sought out for them a place where they might pass the

night, beneath a large oak. Then said Skrymer to Thor that he was going

to lie down to sleep; the others might in the meantime take the

provision-sack and prepare their supper. Then Skrymer fell asleep, and

snored tremendously, and Thor took the provision-sack to untie it; but,

incredible though it may appear, not a single knot could he untie, nor

render a single string looser than it was before. Seeing that his labor

was in vain, Thor became angry, seized the hammer Mjolner with both

hands, went over to Skrymer and struck him on the head. But Skrymer

awoke and asked whether there had fallen a leaf down upon his head, and

whether they had eaten their supper and were ready to go to sleep? Thor

answered that they were just going to sleep, and went to lie down under

another oak, but also here it was dangerous to sleep. At midnight Thor

again heard how fast Skrymer slept and snored, so outrageously that a

thundering noise was heard through the whole woods. Arising he went over

to the giant, swung his hammer with all his might, and struck him right

in the skull, and the hammer entered the head clear to the handle.

Skrymer, suddenly awakening, said: What is the matter now? Did an acorn

fall down upon my head? How is it with you, Thor. Thor went hastily away

and said that he had just waked up; it was midnight, he said, and time

to sleep. Then thought he that if he could get an opportunity to give

the giant a third blow he should never see the light of day any more,

and he now lay watching to see whether Skrymer was fast asleep again.

Shortly before day-break he heard that the giant was sleeping again. He

got up, hastened over to him, swung his hammer with all his might, and

gave him such a blow on the temples that the head of the hammer was

buried in the giant’s head. Skrymer arose, stroked his chin and said: Do

there sit birds above me in the tree? It seemed to me as I awoke that

some moss fell down upon me out of the boughs; but are you awake, Thor?

It seems to me that it is time to arise and dress, and you have not now

a long journey to the castle which is called Utgard. I have heard you

have whispered among yourselves that I am not small of stature, but you

shall find larger men when you come to Utgard. I am going to give you

good advice: do not brag too much. Utgard-Loke’s courtiers will not

brook the boasting of such insignificant little fellows as you are. If

you will not heed his advice you had better turn back, and that is in

fact the best thing for you to do. But if you are determined to go

further then hold to the east; my way lies northward to those mountains

that you see yonder. Skrymer then taking the provision-sack, slung it on

his back and disappeared in the woods, and it has never been learned

whether the asas wished to meet him again or not.

Thor now went on with his companions till it was noon, when their eyes

beheld a castle standing on a great plain, and it was so high that they

had to bend their necks quite back in order to be able to look over it.

They advanced to the castle; there was a gate to the entrance, which was

locked. Thor tried to open it, but could not, and being anxious to get

within the castle, they crept between the bars of the gate. They saw the

palace before them, the door was open, and they entered, where they saw

a multitude of men, of whom the greater number were immensely large,

sitting on two benches. Then they came into the presence of the king,

Utgard-Loke, and saluted him; but it took some time before he would

deign to look at them, and he smiled scornfully, so that one could see

his teeth, saying: It is tedious to ask for tidings of a long journey,

but if I am not mistaken this little stripling must be Asathor; perhaps,

however, you are really bigger than you look. Well, what are the feats

that you and your companions are skilled in? No one is tolerated among

us here unless he distinguishes himself by some art or accomplishment.

Then said Loke: I understand an art, of which I am prepared to give

proof, and that is, that there is none here who can eat his food as fast

as I can. To this Utgard-Loke made reply: Truly that is an art, if you

can achieve it, which we shall now see. He called to the men, who sat on

one end of the bench, that he, whose name was Loge (flame), should come

out on the floor and contend with Loke. A trough was brought in full of

meat. Loke seated himself at one end and Loge at the other; both ate as

fast as they could and met in the middle of the trough. Loke had picked

the meat from the bones, but Loge had consumed meat, bones and trough

all together; and now all agreed that Loke was beaten. Then asked

Utgard-Loke, what that young man could do. It was Thjalfe. He answered,

that he would run a race with any one that Utgard-Loke would appoint.

Utgard-Loke replied that this was a splendid feat, but added that he

must be very swift if he expected to win, but they should see, for it

would soon be decided. Utgard-Loke arose and went out; there was a very

good race-course on the level field. Then he called a little fellow, by

name Huge (thought) and bade him race with Thjalfe. The first time they

ran Huge was so much in advance that at the turning back in the course

he met Thjalfe. You must ply your legs better, Thjalfe, said

Utgard-Loke, if you expect to win, though I must confess that there

never came a man here swifter of foot than you are. They ran a second

time, but when Huge came to the end and turned around, Thjalfe was a

full bow-shot from the goal. Well run, both of you, said Utgard-Loke,

but I think Thjalfe will hardly win, but the third race shall decide it.

They accordingly ran a third time, but Huge had already reached the goal

before Thjalfe had got half-way. Then all who were present cried out

that there had been sufficient trial of skill in this art. Utgard-Loke

then asked Thor in what arts he would choose to give proof of his skill

for which he was so famous. Thor answered that he preferred to contend

in drinking with any one that wished. Utgard-Loke consented, and

entering the palace he called his cup-bearer, and bade him bring the

large horn which his courtiers were obliged to drink out of when they

had trespassed in any way against established usage. The cup-bearer

brought the horn, gave it to Thor, and Utgard-Loke said: Whoever is a

good drinker will empty that horn at a single draught, though some men

make two of it; but there is no so wretched drinker that he cannot

exhaust it at the third draught. Thor looked at the horn and thought it

was not large, though tolerably long; however, as he was very thirsty he

set it to his lips, and without drawing breath drank as long and as deep

as he could, in order that he might not be obliged to make a second

draught of it. But when his breath gave way and he set the horn down, he

saw to his astonishment that there was little less of the liquor in it

than before. Utgard-Loke said: That is well drunk, but not much to boast

of; I should never have believed but that Asathor could have drunk more;

however, of this I am confident, you will empty it at the second

draught. Thor made no reply, but put the horn to his mouth and drank as

long as he had breath, but the point of the horn did not rise as he

expected; and when he withdrew the horn from his mouth it seemed to him

that its contents had sunk less this time than the first; still the horn

could now be carried without spilling. Utgard-Loke said: How now, Thor,

have you not saved for the third draught more than you can make away

with? You must not spare yourself more in performing a feat than befits

your skill, but if you mean to drain the horn at the third draught you

must drink deeply. You will not be considered so great a man here as you

are thought to be among the asas if you do not show greater skill in

other games than you appear to have shown in this. Then Thor became

angry, put the horn to his mouth, and drank with all his might, so as to

empty it entirely; but on looking into the horn he found that its

contents had lessened but little, upon which he resolved to make no

further attempt, but gave back the horn to the cup-bearer. Then said

Utgard-Loke: It is now plain that your strength is not so great as we

thought it to be. Will you try some other games, for we see that you

cannot succeed in this? Yes, said Thor, I will try something else, but I

am sure that such draughts as I have been drinking would not have been

counted small among the asas, but what new trial have you to propose?

Utgard-Loke answered: We have a very trifling game here, in which we

exercise none but children. Young men think it nothing but play to lift

my cat from the ground, and I should never have proposed this to Asathor

if I had not already observed that you are by no means what we took you

for. Thereupon a large gray cat ran out upon the floor. Thor advancing

put his hand under the cat’s body and did his utmost to raise it from

the floor, but the cat, bending its back in the same degree as Thor

lifted, had notwithstanding all Thor’s efforts only one of its feet

lifted up, seeing which Thor made no further effort. Then said

Utgard-Loke: The game has terminated just as I expected; the cat is

large, but Thor is small and little compared with our men. Then said

Thor: Little as you call me I challenge any one to wrestle with me, for

now I am angry. I see no one here, replied Utgard-Loke, looking around

on the benches, who would not think it beneath him to wrestle with you;

but let somebody call hither that old woman, my nurse, Elle (old age),

and let Thor prove his strength with her, if he will. She has thrown to

the ground many a man not less strong and mighty than Thor is. A

toothless old woman then entered the hall and she was told by

Utgard-Loke to wrestle with Thor. To cut the story short, the more Thor

tightened his hold the firmer she stood. Finally, after a violent

struggle, Thor began to lose his footing, and it was not long before he

was brought down on one knee. Then Utgard-Loke stepped forward and told

them to stop, adding that Thor had now no occasion to ask anyone else in

the hall to wrestle with him, and it was also getting late. He therefore

showed Thor and his companions to their seats, and they passed the night

there enjoying the best of hospitality.

The next morning, at break of day, Thor and his companions arose,

dressed themselves and prepared for their departure. Utgard-Loke then

came and ordered a table to be set for them, on which there wanted no

good provisions, either meat or drink. When they had breakfasted they

set out on their way. Utgard-Loke accompanied them out of the castle,

and on parting he asked Thor how he thought his journey had turned out,

and whether he had found any man more mighty than himself. Thor answered

that he could not deny that he had brought great dishonor upon himself;

and what mortifies me the most, he added, is that you will consider me a

man of little importance. Then said Utgard-Loke: Now I will tell you the

truth, since you are out of my castle, where as long as I live and reign

you shall never re-enter, and you may rest assured that had I known

before what might you possessed, and how near you came plunging us into

great trouble, I would not have permitted you to enter this time. Know

then that I have all along deceived you by my illusions; first, in the

forest, where I arrived before you, and there you were unable to untie

the provision-sack, because I had bound it with tough iron wire in such

a manner that you could not discover how the knot ought to be loosened.

After this you gave me three blows with your hammer; the first one,

though it was the least, would have ended my days had it fallen on me,

but I brought a rocky mountain before me, which you did not perceive;

but you saw near my castle a mountain in which were three square glens,

the one deeper than the other, and those were the marks of your hammer.

I have made use of similar illusions in the contests you have had with

my courtiers. In the first, Loke was hungry and devoured all that was

set before him, but Loge was in reality nothing else but wild-fire, and

therefore consumed not only the meat, but the trough which contained it.

Huge, with whom Thjalfe contended in running, was my thought, and it was

impossible for Thjalfe to keep pace with it. When you tried to empty the

horn you performed indeed an exploit so marvelous that had I not seen it

myself I should never have believed it. The one end of the horn stood in

the sea, which you did not perceive, and when you come to the shore you

will see how much the ocean has diminished by what you drank. This is

now called the ebb. You performed a feat no less wonderful when you

lifted the cat, and, to tell the truth, when we saw that one of his paws

was off the floor we were all of us terror-stricken, for what you took

for a cat was in reality the great Midgard-serpent, that encompasses the

whole earth, and he was then barely long enough to inclose it between

his head and tail, so high had your hand raised him up toward heaven.

Your wrestling with Elle was also a most astonishing feat, for there

never yet was, nor will there ever be, a man for whom Old Age (for such

in fact was Elle) will not sooner or later lay low, if he abides her

coming. But now, as we are going to part, let me tell you that it will

be better for both of us if you never come near me again, for should you

do so I shall again defend myself with other illusions, so that you will

never prevail against me. On hearing these words Thor grasped his

hammer, and lifted it into the air, but as he was about to strike

Utgard-Loke was nowhere, and when he turned back to the castle to

destroy it, he saw only beautiful verdant plains around him and no

castle. He therefore retraced his steps without stopping till he came to

Thrudvang. But he had already resolved to make that attack on the

Midgard-serpent, which afterwards took place.

It is said in the Younger Edda that no one can tell anything more _true_

of this journey of Thor’s, but if the reader wants to see the most

beautiful thing that has been said about this journey, he must learn

Danish and read Œlenschlæger’s poem entitled _Thor’s Journey to

Jotunheim_.[68] We have only to add that as the asas had their Loke, so

the giants had their _Utgard-Loke_.

SECTION V. THOR AND THE MIDGARD-SERPENT.

The gods were having a feast at Æger’s, and could not get enough to eat

and drink. The reason was that Æger was in want of a kettle for brewing

ale. He asked Thor to go and fetch it, but neither the asas nor the vans

knew where it could be found, before Tyr said to Thor: East of the

rivers Elivagar, near the borders of heaven, dwells the dogwise Hymer,

and this my father has a kettle which is strong and one rast (mile)

deep. Do you think we can get it? said Thor. Yes, by stratagem it may be

gotten, answered Tyr. Tyr, and Thor under the semblance of a young man,

now started out and traveled until they came to Egil. With him they left

the goats and proceeded further to Hymer’s hall, and we shall presently

see how Thor made amends for his journey to Utgard-Loke. At Hymer’s hall

Tyr found his grandmother, an ugly giantess with nine hundred heads, but

his mother, a beautiful woman, brought him a drink. She advised her

guests to conceal themselves under the kettles in the hall, for her

husband was sometimes cruel toward strangers. Hymer came home from his

fishing late in the evening; the jokuls resounded as he entered the

hall, and his beard was full of frost. I greet you welcome home, Hymer,

said the woman; our son, whom we have been so long expecting, has now

come home to your halls, and in company with him is the enemy of the

giants and the friend of man, Veor (_i.e._ Asgardsveor, the protector of

Asgard). See how they have concealed themselves at the gable end of the

hall, behind the post yonder. Hymer threw a glance in the direction

pointed out by his wife, and the post instantly flew into shivers at the

look of the giant, the beam broke, and eight kettles fell down; one so

hard and strong that it did not break in falling. The gods came forth,

and straight the old giant gazed at his enemy. It was no pleasant sight

to see Thor before him, but still he ordered three steers to be killed

and served on the table. Thor alone ate two. This meal seemed to the

friend of Hrungner somewhat extravagant, and he remarked that the next

evening they would have to live on fish. The following morning, at break

of day, when Thor perceived that Hymer was making a boat ready for

fishing, he arose and dressed himself, and begged the giant to let him

row out to sea with him. Hymer answered that such a puny stripling as he

was could be of no use to him; besides, he said, you will catch your

death of cold if I go far out and remain as long as I am accustomed to

do. Thor said that for all that he would row as far from the land as

Hymer had a mind, and was not sure which of them would be the first who

might wish to row back again. At the same time he was so enraged that he

was much inclined to let his hammer ring at the giant’s skull without

further delay, but intending to try his strength elsewhere he subdued

his wrath, and asked Hymer what he meant to bait with. Hymer told him to

look out for a bait himself. Thor instantly went up to a herd of oxen

that belonged to the giant, and seizing the largest bull, that bore the

name Himinbrjoter (heaven-breaker), wrung off his head, and returning

with it to the boat, put out to sea with Hymer. Thor rowed aft with two

oars, and with such force that Hymer, who rowed at the prow, saw with

surprise how swiftly the boat was driven forward. He then observed that

they were come to the place where he was wont to angle for flat-fish,

but Thor assured him that they had better go on a good way further. They

accordingly continued to ply their oars, until Hymen cried out that if

they did not stop they would be in danger from the great

Midgard-serpent. Notwithstanding this, Thor persisted in rowing further,

and in spite of Hymer’s remonstrances it was a long time before he would

lay down his oars. When they finally stopped, Hymer soon drew up two

whales at once with his bait. Then Thor took out a fishing line,

extremely strong, made with wonderful art and furnished with an equally

strong hook, on which he fixed the bull’s head and cast his line into

the sea. The bait soon reached the bottom, and it may be truly said that

Thor then deceived the Midgard-serpent not a whit less than Utgard-Loke

had deceived Thor when he obliged him to lift up the serpent in his

hand; for the monster greedily caught at the bait and the hook stuck

fast in his palate. Stung with the pain, the serpent tugged at the hook

so violently that Thor was obliged to hold fast with both hands in the

pegs that bear against the oars. But his wrath now waxed high, and

assuming all his divine power he pulled so hard at the line that his

feet forced their way through the boat and went down to the bottom of

the sea, while with his hands he drew up the serpent to the side of the

vessel. It is impossible to express by words the scene that now took

place. Thor on the one hand darting looks of wrath at the serpent, while

the monster on the other hand, rearing his head, spouted out floods of

venom upon him. When the giant Hymer beheld the serpent he turned pale

and trembled with fright, and seeing moreover that the water was

entering his boat on all sides, he took out his knife, just as Thor

raised his hammer aloft, and cut the line, on which the serpent sank

again under water. According to another version valiant Thor hauled the

venom-potted serpent up to the edge of the boat, his hands struck

against the side of the boat and with both his feet he stepped through,

so that he stood on the bottom of the sea. With his hammer he struck the

serpent in the forehead; the mountains thundered, the caves howled, and

the whole old earth shrank together; but the serpent sank to the bottom,

for at the sight of it the giant became so terrified that he cut the

line. Then, according to both versions, Thor struck Hymer such a blow on

the ear with his fist that the giant fell headlong into the water. The

giant was not glad when they rowed back. While he carried his two

whales, Thor took the boat, with oars and all, and carried it to the

house of the giant. Then the giant challenged Thor to show another

evidence of his strength and requested him to break his goblet. Thor,

sitting, threw it through some large posts, but it was brought whole to

the giant. But Thor’s fair friend gave him friendly advice: Throw it

against the forehead of Hymer, said she, it is harder than any goblet.

Then Thor assumed his asastrength. The giant’s forehead remained whole,

but the round wine-goblet was broken. The giant had lost a great

treasure; that drink, said he, was too hot; but there yet remained for

Thor one trial of his strength, and that was to bring the kettle out of

his hall. Twice Tyr tried to lift it, but it was immovable. Then Thor

himself took hold of it at the edge with so great force that he stepped

through the floor of the hall; the kettle he lifted onto his head, and

its rings rung at his heels. They had gone a long distance before Odin’s

son looked back and saw a many-headed multitude rushing impetuously from

the caves with Hymer. Then he lifted the kettle from his shoulders,

swung the murderous Mjolner and slew all the mountain-giants. After that

he proceeded to Egil, where he had left his goats; and he had not gone

far thence before one of the goats dropped down half dead. It was lame,

and we remember from a previous myth that a peasant near the sea had to

give Thor his son Thjalfe and daughter Roskva as bond-servants for

laming one of his goats. Thor finally came to the feast of the gods and

had the kettle with him, and there was nothing now to hinder Æger from

furnishing ale enough at the feast, that he prepared for the gods at

every harvest time.

This myth forms the subject of the lay of Hymer in the Elder Edda. The

whole myth of course represents the thunderstorm in conflict with the

raging sea; but a historical counterpart of this struggle of Thor with

Hymer and the Midgard-serpent is so forcibly suggested that we cannot

omit it. It is Luther’s struggle with the pope Romanism. Luther, the

heroic Thor, saw his enemy, but did not strike just in the right time

and in the right way, and the golden opportunity was lost after Hymer

(the pope) had severed the fishing-line; that is after the old memories

were destroyed, when the golden line connecting the Germans with their

poetic dawn had been divided, and Romanism, with blood-stained breast,

with close embrace first twined around the whole school system of

Germany and north Europe, and horribly mangled their grand mission with

its fangs, and then seized the Teutonic Laocoon and his sons and bound

their unsophisticated Teutonic hearts in its mighty folds. Ay, this

_Roman_ Midgard-serpent, with its licentiousness, arrogance, despotism,

unbridled ambition, unbounded egotism, dry reasoning and soulless

philosophy, has grasped the _Goth_ twice, yes thrice, about the middle,

and winding its scaly book thrice around his neck, has overtopped him.

In vain he has striven to tear asunder its knotted and gory spires. He

can but shriek to heaven for help, and may Thor hear his cry and come to

his rescue! May Thor next time embark well armed with his gloves and

belt and hammer; but he had better leave the giant slain on shore. Yet

Luther did a noble work. Although his first intention was to leave the

giant unmolested, and only take his kettle from him, still, when he

found a determined opposition threatening, he turned around, set down

his kettle, and slew both the giant and the many-headed multitude (pope,

cardinals, bishops, etc.) that followed him. But Luther erred in not

establishing a thoroughly Teutonic in place of a Romanic school system.

Thus he left his great work only half finished. If he had made good use

of his hammer at the time, much valuable knowledge about our Teutonic

ancestors might have been collected and preserved which now is lost

forever.

SECTION VI. THOR AND THRYM.

This is a very beautiful myth, and we will give it complete as it is

found in the Elder Edda, in the lay of Thrym. We give our own

translation:

Wrathful was Vingthor

As he awaked

And his hammer

Did miss;

His beard shook,

His hair trembled,

The son of earth

Looked around him.

Thus first of all

He spoke:

Mark now Loke

What I say!

What no one knows

Either on earth

Or in high heaven,—

The hammer is stolen.

Went they to Freyja’s

Fair dwelling;

There in these words

Thor first spoke:

Wilt thou, Freyja, lend

Me thy feather-guise,

That I my hammer

Mjolner may fetch?

I gave it thee gladly

Though it were of gold;

I would instantly give it

Though it were of silver.

Flew then Loke—

The feather-guise whizzed;

Out he flew

From home of asas,

In he flew

To home of giants.

On the hill sat Thrym;

The king of giants

Twisted gold-bands

For his dogs,

Smoothed at leisure

The manes of his horses.

THRYM:

How fare the asas?

How fare the elves?

Why comest thou alone

To Jotunheim?

LOKE:

Ill fare the asas,

Ill fare the elves,

Hast thou concealed

The hammer of Thor?

THRYM:

I have concealed

The hammer of Thor

Eight rasts

Beneath the ground;

No man

Brings it back

Unless he gives me

Freyja as my bride.

Flew then Loke—

The feather-guise whizzed;

Out he flew

From home of giants,

In he flew

To home of asas.

Met him Thor

First of all

And thus addressed him:

Hast thou succeeded

In doing thine errand?

Then tell before perching

Long messages;

What one says sitting

Is often of little value,

And falsehood speaks he

Who reclines.

LOKE:

Well have I succeeded

In doing my errand;

Thrym has thy hammer,

The king of the giants.

No man

Brings it back

Unless he gives him

Freyja as bride.

Went they then the fair

Freyja to find,

First then Thor

Thus addressed her:

Dress thyself, Freyja,

In bridal robes,

Together we will ride

To Jotunheim.

Angry grew Freyja,

And she raged

So the hall of the asas

Must shake.

Her heavy necklace,

Brisingamen, broke;

Then would I be

A lovesick maid

If with thee I would ride

To Jotunheim.

Then all the asas

Went to the _Thing_,

To the _Thing_ went

All the asynjes,

The powerful divinities,

And held consult,

How they should get

The hammer back.

Then spake Heimdal

The whitest god—

Foreknowing was he,

As the vans are all:

Dress we Thor

In bridal robes,

Brisingamen

Must he wear.

Let jingle keys

About his waist;

Let a woman’s dress

Cover his knees;

On his bosom we put

Broad broaches,

And artfully we

His hair braid.

Spoke then Thor,

The mighty god:

Mock me all

The asas would,

If in bridal robes

I should be dressed.

Spoke then Loke

Laufeyarson:

Be silent Thor;

Stop such talk.

Soon will giants

Build in Asgard

If thou thy hammer

Bring not back.

Dressed they then Thor

In bridal-robes;

Brisengumen

He had to wear;

Keys let they jingle

About his waist,

And a woman’s dress

Fell over his knees;

On his bosom they placed

Broad broaches,

And artfully they

His hair did braid.

Spoke then Loke

Laufeyarson:

For thee must I

Be servant-maid;

Ride we both

To Jotunheim.

Home were driven

Then the goats,

And hitched to the car;

Hasten they must—

The mountains crashed.

The earth stood in flames,

Odin’s son

Rode to Jotunheim.

Spoke then Thrym,

The king of giants;

Giants! arise

And spread my benches!

Bring to me

Freyja as bride,

Njord’s daughter,

From Noatun.

Cows with golden horns

Go in the yard,

Black oxen

To please the giant;

Much wealth have I,

Many gifts have I;

Freyja, methinks,

Is all I lack.

Early in the evening

Came they all;

Ale was brought

Up for the giant.

One ox Thor ate,

Eight salmon

And all the delicacies

For the women intended;

Sif’s husband besides

Drank three barrels of mead.

Spoke then Thrym,

The king of giants:

Where hast thou seen

Such a hungry bride?

I ne’er saw a bride

Eat so much,

And never a maid

Drink more mead.

Sat there the shrewd

Maid-servant near;[69]

Thus she replied

To the words of Thrym:

Nothing ate Freyja

In eight nights,

So much did she long

For Jotunheim.

Behind the veil

Thrym sought a kiss,

But back he sprang

The length of the hall:

Why are Freyja’s

Eyes so sharp?

From her eyes it seems

That fire doth burn.

Sat there the shrewd

Maid-servant near,

And thus she spake,

Answering the giant:

Slept has not Freyja

For eight nights,

So much did she long

For Jotunheim.

In came the poor

Sister of Thrym;

For bridal gift

She dared to ask:

Give from the hand

The golden rings,

If thou desirest

Friendship of me,

Friendship of me—

And love.

Spoke then Thrym,

The king of giants:

Bring me the hammer

My bride to hallow:

Place the hammer

In the lap of the maid;

Wed us together

In the name of Var.[70]

Laughed then Thor’s

Heart in his breast;

Severe in mind

He knew his hammer,

First slew he Thrym,

Tho king of giants,

Crushed then all

That race of giants;

Slew the old

Sister of Thrym,

She who asked

For a bridal gift;

Slap she got

For shining gold,

Hammer blows

For heaps of rings;

Thus came Odin’s son

Again by his hammer.

Thrym (from _þruma_) is the noisy, thundering imitator of Thor. While

the thunder sleeps, the giant forces of nature howl and rage in the

storms and winds, they have stolen the hammer from Thor. Thor goes and

brings his hammer back and the storms are made to cease. It has been

suggested that Thor is the impersonation of truth, and the Younger Edda

speaks of him as one _never having yet uttered an_ UNTRUTH. It has also

been claimed that the name of his realm _Thrud_-vang contains the same

root as our English word _truth_, but this we leave for the reader to

examine for himself. Before the Norsemen learned to make the sign of the

cross, they made the sign of the hammer upon themselves and upon other

things that they thereby wished to secure against evil influences.

Now let us glance at the last appearance of Thor on the stage of this

world. The Norse king, Olaf the saint, was eagerly pursuing his work of

Christian reform in Norway, and we find him sailing with fit escort

along the western shore of that county from haven to haven, dispensing

justice or doing other royal work. On leaving a certain haven, it is

found that a stranger of grave eyes and aspect, with red beard and of a

robust and stately figure, has stepped in. The courtiers address him;

his answers surprise by their pertinency and depth. At length he is

brought to the king. The strangers conversation here is not less

remarkable, as they sail along the beautiful shore; but after awhile he

addresses King Olaf thus: Yes, King Olaf, it is all beautiful, with the

sun shining on it there; green, fruitful, a right fair home for you; and

many a sore day had Thor, many a wild fight with the mountain giants,

before he could make it so. And now you seem minded to put away Thor.

King Olaf, have a care! said the stranger, knitting his brows; and when

they looked again he was nowhere to be found. This is the last myth of

Thor, a protest against the advance of Christianity, no doubt

reproachfully set forth by some conservative pagan.[71]

Footnote 60:

Thor’s.

Footnote 61:

From _Tales of a Wayside Inn_.

Footnote 62:

_Bil_ is a common word in Norseland, meaning _moment_.

Footnote 63:

But see also Vocabulary, under the word _Mjolner_.

Footnote 64:

Holmgang (literally _isle-gang_) is a duel taking place on a small

island. Each combatant was attended by a second who had to protect him

with a shield. The person challenged had the right to strike the first

blow. When the opponent was wounded, so that his blood stained the

ground, the seconds might interfere and put an end to the combat. He

that was the first wounded had to pay the holmgang fine.

Footnote 65:

A name for Thor.

Footnote 66:

A Orvandel, from _aur_, earth, and _vendill_, the sprout (_vöndr_),

ruler = the seed.

Footnote 67:

This Geirrod must not be confounded with Odin’s foster-son Geirrod,

son of Hraudung (see p. 228).

Footnote 68:

The next best thing is William Edward Frye’s translation of

Œlenschlæger’s work entitled _The Gods of the North_. London, 1845.

Footnote 69:

Loke.

Footnote 70:

The goddess who presides over marriages.

Footnote 71:

Thomas Carlyle, _Heroes and Hero-worship_.

CHAPTER V.

VIDAR.

On the way to Geirrod (see p. 310) we noticed that Thor visited the hag

Grid, and she lent him three things, counterparts of Thor’s own

treasures, her belt of strength, iron gloves and staff. Grid belongs to

the race of giants; she dwells in the wild, unsubdued nature, but is not

hostile toward the gods. Her belt, gloves and staff, her name, the place

where she dwells between Asgard and Jotunheim, her ability to give Thor

information about Geirrod, all give evidence of her wild and powerful

character.

She is the mother of Vidar, who is a son of Odin. Hence we have here, as

in the case of Tyr, a connecting link between the giants and asas.

Through Tyr the gods are related to the raging sea, through Vidar to the

wild desert and the forests. Vidar is surnamed the Silent. He is almost

as strong as Thor himself, and the gods place great reliance on him in

all critical conjunctures. He is the brother of the gods. He has an iron

shoe; it is a thick shoe, of which it is said that material has been

gathered for it through all ages. It is made of the scraps of leather

that have have been cut off from the toes and heels in cutting patterns

for shoes. These pieces must therefore be thrown away by the shoemaker

who desires to render assistance to the gods. He is present at Æger’s

feast, where Odin says to him:

Stand up, Vidar!

And let the wolf’s father[72]

Be guest at the feast,

That Loke may not

Bring reproach on us

Here in Æger’s hall.

His realm is thus described in the Elder Edda:

Grown over with shrubs

And with high grass

Is Vidar’s wide land.

There sits Odin’s

Son on the horse’s back:

He will avenge his father.

He avenges his father in the final catastrophe, in Ragnarok; for when

the Fenris-wolf has swallowed Odin, Vidar advances, and setting his foot

on the monster’s lower jaw he seizes the other with his hand, and thus

tears and rends him till he dies. It is now his shoe does him such

excellent service. After the universe has been regenerated

There dwell Vidar and Vale

In the gods’ holy seats,

When the fire of Surt is slaked.

Vidar’s name (from _viðr_, a forest) indicates that he is the god of the

primeval, impenetrable forest, where neither the sound of the ax nor the

voice of man was ever heard; and hence he is also most fittingly

surnamed the Silent God. Vidar is, then, imperishable and incorruptible

nature represented as an immense indestructible forest, with the iron

trunks of the trees rearing their dense and lofty tops toward the

clouds. Who has ever entered a thick and pathless forest, wandered about

in its huge shadows and lost himself in its solemn darkness, without

feeling deeply sensible to the loftiness of the idea that underlies

Vidar’s character. Vidar is the Greek Pan, the representative of

incorruptible nature. He is not the ruler of the peaceful grove near the

abode of the gods, where Idun dwells, but of the great and wild primeval

forest, that man never yet entered. The idea of Vidar’s woods is

imperishableness, while that of Idun’s grove is the constant renovation

and rejuvenation of the life of the gods. The gods and all the work of

their hands shall perish, and it is nowhere stated that Idun survives

Ragnarok. Odin himself perishes, and with him all his labor and care for

man; but nature does not perish. If that should be entirely destroyed,

then it could not be _regenerated_. If matter should perish, where would

then the spirit take its dwelling? If Vidar did not exist, where would

Vale be? The glory of the world, the development that has taken place,

and the spirit revealed in it, perish; but not Vidar, for he is the

imperishable, wild, original nature, the eternal matter, which reveals

its force to, but is not comprehended by, man; a force which man sees

and reveres, without venturing an explanation; but when all the works of

man are destroyed by consuming flames, this force of eternal matter will

be revealed with increased splendor.

Thus we find the power and strength of the gods expressed in two myths,

in Thor and in Vidar, both sons of Odin, who is, as the reader knows,

the father of all the gods. Thor is the thundering, noisy, crushing, but

withal beneficent, god; Vidar is silent, dwells far away from, and

exercises no influence upon, the works of man, except as he inspires a

profound awe and reverence. Thor is the visible, in their manifestations

wonderful, constantly returning and all-preserving, workings of nature;

Vidar is the quiet, secretly working, hidden and self-supporting

imperishableness. Popularity, fame, position, influence, wealth,—all

that makes so much stir and bustle in the world—shall perish; but the

quiet working of the soul, the honest pursuit of knowledge, the careful

secret development of the powers of the human mind, shall live forever.

And Vidar and Vale (mind and knowledge) shall together inhabit the

sacred dwellings of the gods, when the waves of time have ceased to

roll: Vidar as the god of imperishable matter, Vale as the god of

eternal light (spirit) that shines upon it.

Footnote 72:

Loke.

CHAPTER VI.

THE VANS.

SECTION I. NJORD AND SKADE.

Two opposite elements in nature are united in order to produce life. The

opposite elements are expressed in the mythology by the terms asas and

vans. In our language and mode of expression that would mean the solid

and the liquid, the masculine and the feminine. Water, the _par

excellence_ representative of liquids, may symbolize various ideas. It

may typify sorrow; it then manifests itself in tears, and sorrow is

fleeting as the flowing tears. Water may symbolize gladness, happiness,

and blessings, that flow in gushing streams along the pathway of life;

and it may also be used as the symbol of innocence, purity, and wealth.

These ideas may be regarded as a general interpretation of the vans, and

we find them reflected in the triune vana-deity; Njord with his children

Frey and Freyja, who rise from the sea and unite themselves with the

asa-divinity in heaven and on earth.

Njord is called Vanagod, and he dwells in the heavenly region called

Noatun. He rules over the winds and checks the fury of the sea and of

fire, and is therefore invoked by seafarers and fishermen. He is so

wealthy that he can give possessions and treasures to those who call on

him for them. Yet Njord is not of the lineage of the asas, for he was

born and bred in Vanaheim. But the vans gave him as hostage to the asas,

receiving from them in his stead Hœner. By this means peace was

reëstablished between the asas and vans. (See Part II, Chap. 1, Sec.

13.)

Njord took to wife Skade, the daughter of the giant Thjasse.[73] She

preferred dwelling in the abode formerly belonging to her father, which

is situated among rocky mountains in the region called Thrymheim, but

Njord loved to reside near the sea. They at last agreed that they should

pass together nine nights in Thrymheim and then three in Noatun. But one

day when Njord came back from the mountains to Noatun, he thus sang:

Am weary of the mountains,

Not long was I there,

Only nine nights:

The howl of the wolves

Methought sounded ill

To the song of the swans.

To which Skade sang in reply:

Sleep could I not

On my sea-strand couch

For screams of the sea-fowl.

_There_ wakes me

When from the wave he comes

Every morn the mew (gull).

Skade then returned to the rocky mountains and dwelt in Thrymheim. There

fastening on her skees and taking her bow she passes her time in the

chase of wild beasts, and is called Andre-dis (Skee-goddess). Thus it is

said:

Thrymheim it’s called

Where Thjasse dwelled,

That stream-mighty giant;

But Skade now dwells,

Skee-bride of the gods,

In her father’s old mansion.

Njord is the god of the sea; that is to say, of that part of the sea

which is immediately connected with the earth, that part of the sea

which is made serviceable to man, where fishing and commerce carried on.

His dwelling is Noatun, which means land of ships (_nór_, ship; _tún_,

yard, place). Njord’s realm is bounded on the one side by the earth, the

land, and on the other by the raging ocean, where Æger with his

daughters reigns. Njord’s wife is Skade (harm), the wild mountain

stream, which plunges down from the high rocks, where she prefers to

dwell, and pours herself into the sea. Her dwelling is Thrymheim, the

_roaring home_, at the thundering waterfall. Taken as a whole, the myth

is very clear and simple.

The compromise between Njord and Skate, to dwell nine nights in

Thrymheim (home of uproar, storms) and three nights in Noatun, of course

has reference to the severe northern latitudes, where rough weather and

wintry storms prevail during the greater part of the year.

SECTION II. ÆGER AND RAN.

These do not belong to the vana-divinities, but are given here in order

to have the divinities of the sea in one place. As Njord is the mild,

beneficent sea near the shore, so Æger is the wild, turbulent, raging

sea far from the land, where fishing and navigation cannot well be

carried on; the great ocean, and yet bordering on the confines of then

asas. Hence Æger’s twofold nature; he is a giant, but still has

intercourse with the gods. Thus in Mimer, Æger and Njord, we have the

whole ocean represented, from its origin, Mimer, to its last stage of

development, to Njord, in whom, as a beneficent divinity, it unites

itself with the gods; that is to say, blesses and serves the enterprises

of men.

Æger visits the gods, and the latter visit him in return; and it was

once when the gods visited him that his brewing-kettle was found too

small, so that Thor had to go to the giant Hymer and borrow a larger

one. In Æger’s hall the bright gold was used instead of fire, and there

the ale passed around spontaneously. Ran is his wife. She has a net, in

which she catches those who venture out upon the sea. Æger and Ran have

nine daughters, the waves. Loke once borrowed Ran’s net, to catch the

dwarf Andvare, who in the guise of a fish dwelt in a waterfall. With her

hand she is able to hold the ships fast. It was a prevailing opinion

among the ancient Norsemen that they who perished at sea came to Ran;

for Fridthjof, who with his companions was in danger of being wrecked,

talks about his having to rest on Ran’s couch instead of Ingeborg’s, and

as it was not good to come empty-handed to the halls of Ran and Æger, he

divided a ring of gold between himself and his men.

Thus Tegner has it in _Fridthjof_ at Sea:

Whirling cold and fast

Snow-wreaths fill the sail;

Over dock and mast

Patters heavy hail.

The very stem they see so more,

So thick is darkness spread,

As gloom and horror hover o’er

The chamber of the dead.

Still to sink the sailor dashes

Implacable each angry wave;

Gray, as if bestrewn with ashes,

Yawns the endless, awful grave.

Then says Fridthjof:

For us in bed of ocean

Azure pillows _Ran_ prepares,

On thy pillow, Ingeborg,

Thou thinkest upon me.

Higher ply, my comrades,

Ellida’s sturdy oars;

Good ship, heaven-fashioned,

Bear us on an hour.

The storm continues:

O’er the side apace

Now a sea hath leapt;

In an instant’s space

Clear the deck is swept.

From his arm now Fridthjof hastens

To draw his ring, three marks in weight;

Like the morning sun it glistens,

The golden gift of Bele great.

With his sword in pieces cutting

The famous work of pigmied art,

Shares he quickly, none forgetting,

Unto every man a part.

Then says Fridthjof again:

Gold is good possession

When one goes a-wooing;

Let none go empty-handed

Down to azure _Ran_.

Icy are her kisses,

Fickle her embraces;

But we’ll charm the sea-bride

With our ruddy gold.

How eager Ran is to capture those who venture out upon her domain is

also illustrated in another part of Fridthjof’s Saga, where King Ring

and his queen Ingeborg ride over the ice on the lake to a banquet.

Fridthjof went along on skates. Thus Tegner again:

They speed as storms over ocean speed;

The queen’s prayers little King Ring doth heed.

Their steel-shod comrade standeth not still,

He flieth past them as swift as he will.

Many a rune on the ice cutteth he;

Fair Ingeborg’s name discovereth she.

So on their glittering course they go,

But _Ran_, the traitress, lurketh below.

A hole in her silver roof she hath reft,

Down sinketh the sleigh in the yawning cleft.

But, fortunately, Fridthjof was not far away. He came to their rescue,

and

With a single tug he setteth amain

Both steed and sleigh on the ice again.

Of Æger’s and Ran’s daughters, the waves, it is said that they

congregate in large numbers according to the will of their father. They

have pale locks and white veils; they are seldom mild in their

disposition toward men; they are called billows or surges, and are

always awake when the wind blows. They lash the sounding shores, and

angrily rage and break around the holms;[74] they have a hard bed

(stones and rocks), and seldom play in calm weather. The names of the

daughters of Æger and Ran represent the waves in their various

magnitudes and appearances. Thus Himinglœfa, the sky-clear; Duva, the

diver; Blodughadda, the bloody- or purple-haired; Hefring, the swelling;

Bylgja, billow; Kolga, raging sea, etc.

These myths are very simple and need no extended explanations. Æger is

the Anglo-Saxon _eagor_, the sea. He is also called Hler, the shelterer

(_hlé_, Anglo-Saxon _hleo_, Danish _Læ_, English _lee_), and Gymer, the

concealing (_geyma_, Anglo-Saxon _gyman_, Norse _gjemme_, to conceal, to

keep). These names express the sea in its uproar, in its calmness, and

as the covering of the deep. The name of his wife, Ran (robbery or the

robbing; _rœna_, to plunder), denotes the sea as craving its sacrifice

of human life and of treasures. It is a common expression in Norseland

that the sea brews and seethes, and this at once suggests Æger’s

kettles. The foaming ale needs no butler but passes itself around, and

there is plenty of it. That Æger, when visited by the gods, illuminated

his hall with shining gold, refers of course to the phosphorescent light

of the sea (Icelandic _marelldr_, Norse _morild_). Those who are

familiar with the sea cannot fail to have seen the sparks of fire that

apparently fly from it when its surface is disturbed in the dark. Thus

the servants of Æger, Elde and Funfeng (both words meaning fire), are

properly called excellent firemen. The relation between Njord and Æger

seems to be the same as between Okeanos, the great water encircling the

earth, and Pontus, the Mediterranean, within the confines of the earth.

Some of the old Norse heroes are represented as possessing a terrifying

helmet, Æger’s helmet (_gishjálmr_); and thus, as Odin’s golden helmet

is the beaming sky, and as the dwarfs cover themselves with a helmet of

fog, so Æger wears on his brow a helmet made of dense darkness and

heaven-reaching, terrifying breakers.

Æger and his family, it is certain, did not belong among the asas, yet

they were regarded, like them, as mighty beings, whose friendship was

sought by the gods themselves; and England, that proud mistress of the

sea, is the reflection of the myth of Æger, showing what grand results

are achieved historically, when human enterprise and heroism enter into

friendly relations with the sea, making it serve the advancement of

civilization,—when the gods go to Æger’s hall to banquet.

SECTION III. FREY.

Njord had two children—a son Frey and a daughter Freyju, both fair and

mighty. Frey is one of the most celebrated of the gods. He presides over

rain and sunshine and all the fruits of the earth, and should be invoked

to obtain good harvests, and also for peace. He moreover dispenses

wealth among men. He is called van and vanagod, yeargod and goods-giver

(_fégjafi_). He owns the ship Skidbladner and also Goldenbristle

(_gullinbursti_) or Slidrugtanne (the sharp-toothed), a boar with golden

bristles, with which he rides as folk-ruler to Odin’s hall. In time’s

morning, when he was yet a child, the gods gave him Alfheim (home of

elves) as a present.

Of Frey’s ship Skidbladner, we have before seen (see p. 220) how it was

made by the dwarfs, sons of Ivald, and presented to Frey. It was so

large that all the gods with their weapons and war stores could find

room on board it. As soon as the sails are set a favorable breeze arises

and carries it to its place of destination, and it is made of so many

pieces, and with so much skill, that when it is not wanted for a voyage

Frey may fold it together like a piece of cloth and put it into his

pocket.

Njord had the consolation, when he was sent as hostage to the gods, that

he begat a son whom no one hates, but who is the best among the gods.

Thus the Elder Edda, in Æger’s banquet to the gods, where Loke also was

present:

NJORD:

It is my consolation—

For I was from a far-off place

Sent as a hostage to the gods—

That I begat that son

Whom no one hates,

And who is regarded

Chief among the gods.

To which LOKE makes reply:

Hold thy tongue, Njord!

Subdue thy arrogance;

I will conceal it no longer

That with thy sister

A son thou didst beget

Scarcely worse than thyself.

But TYR defends Frey:

Frey is the best

Of all the chiefs

Among the gods.

He causes not tears

To maids or mothers:

His desire is to loosen the fetters

Of those enchained.

LOKE:

Hold thy tongue, Tyr!

Never thou couldst

Use both hands,

Since thy right one,

As I now remember,

The wolf Fenrer took from you.

TYR:

I lack a hand,

Thou lackest good reputation,—

Sad it is to lack such a thing;

Nor does the wolf fare well,—

In chains he pines

Till the end of the world.

LOKE:

Hold thy tongue, Tyr!

Thy wife and I

Had a son together,

But thou, poor fellow,

Received not a farthing

In fine from me.

FREY:

The wolf I see lie

At the mouth of the river

Until the powers perish.

Mischief-maker!

If thou dost not hold thy tongue

Thou also shalt be bound.

LOKE:

For gold thou bought’st

Gymer’s daughter,

And sold thy sword

At the same time;

But when the sons of Muspel

Come riding from the dark woods,

What hail thou, poor fellow,

To rely upon?

Frey has a servant by name BYGVER, who responds to Loke:

Know that, were I born

Of so noble a race

As Ingun’s Frey,

And had I

So glorious a hall,

I would crush the evil crow,

Break his bones to the marrow!

LOKE then turns upon Bygver, and calls him a little impertinent thing,

that always hangs about Frey’s ears and cries under the millstone (can

the reader help thinking at this moment of Robert Burns’ famous poem,

_John Barleycorn?_); a good-for-nothing fellow, who never would divide

good with men, and when the heroes fought they could not find him, for

he was concealed in the straw of the bed.

Frey’s maid-servant is Beyla, Bygver’s wife, whom Loke calls the ugliest

and filthiest hag that can be found among the offspring of the gods. Of

course Loke exaggerates and uses abusive language, but it was in truth a

sorry thing for Frey that he traded his sword away, for it is to this

fact he owes his defeat when he encounters Surt in Ragnarok.

Frey’s wife was Gerd, a daughter of Gymer, and their son was Fjolner.

Frey was worshiped throughout the northern countries. In the common

formula of the oath his name was put first: HJÁLPI MÉR SVÁ FREYR OK

NJÖRÐR OK HINN ALMÁTTKI ÁS! that is, So help me Frey and Njord and the

almighty Asa (Odin). On Jul-eve (Christmas eve) it was customary to lead

out a boar, which was consecrated to Frey, and which was called the

atonement boar. On this the persons present laid their hands and made

solemn vows; and at the feast, where the flesh of the sacrificed animal

was eaten by the assembled guests, there was drunk, among other horns, a

horn to Njord and Frey for prosperous seasons and for peace.

Everything about Frey goes to show that he is the god of the earth’s

fruitfulness. The sea, Njord, rises as vapor and descends in rain upon

the land, making it fruitful. There has been much dispute about the

etymological meaning of the word Frey. Finn Magnússon derives it from

_frœ_, Norse _frö_, meaning seed. Grimm, on the other hand, thinks the

fundamental idea is mildness, gladness (compare German _froh_, Norse

_fryd_). A derived meaning of the word is man, masculine of Freyja

(German _frau_), meaning woman.

SECTION IV. FREY AND GERD.