The Story of Balder the Beautiful
_This is the tale the Northmen tell of the
sad fate of Balder the Beautiful._
Fair beyond all the sons of Odin was Balder the Beautiful, Balder of
the snow-white brow and golden locks, and he was well beloved not only
by the Asa folk, but also by the men of the earth below.
"Of all the twelve round Odin's throne,
Balder, the Beautiful, alone,
The Sun-god, good and pure and bright,
Was loved by all, as all love light."
Balder had a twin-brother named Hoder, who was born blind. Gloomy and
silent was he, but none the less he loved his bright sun-brother best
of all in heaven or earth.
The home of Balder was a palace with silver roof and pillars of gold,
and nothing unclean or impure was allowed to come inside its doors.
Very wise in all magic charms was this radiant young god; and for all
others save himself he could read the future; but "to keep his own
life safe and see the sun" was not granted to him.
Now there came a time when Balder's bright face grew sad and downcast;
and when his father Odin and his mother Frigga perceived this they
implored him to tell them the cause of his grief. Then Balder told
them that he had been troubled by strange dreams; and, since in those
days men believed that dreams were sent as a warning of what was about
to happen, he had gone heavily since these visions had come to him.
First he had dreamt that a dark cloud had arisen which came before the
sun and shut out all brightness from the land.
The next night he dreamt again that Asgard lay in darkness, and that
her bright flowers and radiant trees were withered and lifeless, and
that the Asa folk, dull and withered also, were sorrowing as though
from some great calamity.
The third night he dreamt yet again that Asgard was dark and lifeless
and that from out of the gloom one sad voice cried:
"Woe! Woe! Woe! For Balder the Beautiful is dead--is dead!"
Odin listened to the recital of this story with heavy heart, and at
its conclusion he mounted his coal-black horse and rode over many a
hard and toilsome road till he came to the dark abode of Hela. And
there he saw, to his surprise, that a great banquet was being prepared
in the gloomy hall. Dishes of gold were set upon the table and all the
couches were covered with the richest silken tapestry, as though some
honoured guest were expected. But a throne that stood at the head of
the table was empty.
Very thoughtfully Odin rode on through those dim halls till he came to
one where dwelt an ancient prophetess, whose voice no man had heard
for many a long year.
Silent he stood before her, until she asked in a voice that sounded as
though it came from far away: "Who art thou, and from whence dost thou
come to trouble my long rest?"
Now Odin was fearful that she would not answer him did he give his
real name, so he told her that he was the son of Valtam, and asked
anxiously for whom the grim goddess of death was preparing her
banquet.
Then, to his great grief, the hollow voice of the prophetess replied
that Balder was the expected guest, and that he would shortly be sent
thither, slain by the hand of Hoder, the blind god of darkness.
"Who then," asked Odin, in sorrowful tones, "shall avenge the death of
Balder?"
And she answered that the son of the Earth-goddess, Vali by name,
should neither
"Comb his raven hair
Nor wash his visage in the stream,
Nor see the sun's departing beam,
Till he on Hoder's corse shall smile
Flaming on the funeral pile."
And learning thus of the fate of his two favourite sons, All-Father
Odin went sadly back to Asgard.
Meantime Mother Frigga had not been idle. Filled with anxiety for her
darling son, she decided to send her servants throughout the earth,
bidding them exact a promise from all things--not only living
creatures, but plants, stones, and metals, fire, water, trees and
diseases of all kinds--that they would do harm in no way to Balder the
Beautiful.
Theirs was an easy task, for all things loved the bright Sun-god, and
readily agreed to give the pledge. Nothing was overlooked save only
the mistletoe, growing upon the oak-tree that shaded the entrance to
Valhalla. It seemed so insignificant that no one thought it worth
while to ask this plant to take the oath.
The servants returned to Frigga with all the vows and compacts that
had been made; and the Mother of Gods and Men went back with heart at
ease to her spinning-wheel.
The Asa folk, too, were reassured, and, casting aside the burden of
care that had fallen upon them, they resumed their favourite game upon
the plains of Idavold, where they were wont to contend with one
another in the throwing of golden disks.
And when it became known among them that nothing would hurt Balder the
Beautiful they invented a new game.
Placing the young Sun-god in their midst, they would throw stones at
him, or thrust at him with their knives, or strike with their wooden
staves; and the wood or the knife or the stone would glance off from
Balder and leave him quite unhurt.
This new game delighted both Balder and the Asa folk, and so loud was
their laughter that Loki, who was some distance away pursuing one of
his schemes in the disguise of an old woman, shook with rage at the
sound. For Loki was jealous of Balder and, as is usual with people who
make themselves disliked, nothing gave him such displeasure as to see
a group of the Asas on such happy terms with each other.
Presently, in his wanderings, Loki passed by the house of Fensalir, in
the doorway of which sat Frigga, at her spinning-wheel. She did not
recognise Red Loki, but greeted him kindly and asked:
"Old woman, dost thou know why the gods are so merry this evening?"
And Loki answered: "They are casting stones and throwing sharp knives
and great clubs at Balder the Beautiful, who stands smiling in their
midst, daring them to hurt him."
Then Frigga smiled tranquilly and turned again to her wheel, saying:
"Let them play on, for no harm will come to him whom all things in
heaven and earth have sworn not to hurt."
"Art thou sure, good mother, that _all_ things in heaven and earth
have taken this vow?"
"Ay, indeed," replied Frigga, "all save a harmless little plant, the
mistletoe, which grows on the oak by Valhalla, and this is far too
small and weak to be feared."
And to this Loki replied in musing voice, nodding his head as he
spoke: "Yea, thou art right, great Mother of Gods and Men."
But the wicked Asa had learnt what he desired to know. The instrument
by which he might bring harm to Balder the Beautiful was now awaiting
him, and he determined to use it, to the dire sorrow of Asgard.
Hastening to the western gate of Valhalla, he pulled a clump of the
mistletoe from the oak, and fashioned therefrom a little wand, or
stick, and with this in his hand he returned to the plain of Idavold.
He was far too cunning, however, to attempt to carry out his wicked
design himself. His malicious heart was too well known to the Asa
folk. But he soon found an innocent tool. Leaning against a tree, and
taking no part in the game, was Hoder, the blind god, the twin-brother
of Balder, and to him he began:
"Hark to the Asas--how they laugh! Do you take no share in the game,
good Hoder?"
"Not I," said Hoder gloomily, "for I am blind, and know not where to
throw."
"I could show you that," said Loki, assuming a pleasant tone; "'tis no
hard matter, Hoder, and methinks the Asas will call you proud and
haughty if you take no share in the fun."
"But I have nothing to throw," said poor blind Hoder.
Then Loki said: "Here, at least, is a small shaft, 'twill serve your
purpose," and leading innocent Hoder into the ring he cunningly guided
his aim. Hoder, well pleased to be able to share in a game with his
beloved brother, boldly sped the shaft, expecting to hear the usual
shouts of joyous laughter which greeted all such attempts. There fell
instead dead silence on his ear, and immediately on this followed a
wail of bitter agony. For Balder the Beautiful had fallen dead without
a groan, his heart transfixed by the little dart of mistletoe.
"So on the floor lay Balder dead; and round
Lay thickly strewn swords, axes, darts, and spears,
Which all the gods in sport had idly thrown
At Balder, whom no weapon pierced or clove;
But in his breast stood fixed the fatal bough
Of mistletoe, which Loki the Accuser gave
To Hoder, and unwitting Hoder threw--
'Gainst that alone had Balder's life no charm."
Dreading he knew not what, Hoder stood in doubt for some moments. But
soon the meaning of that bitter wail was borne in upon him, piercing
the cloud of darkness in which he always moved. He opened wide his
arms as though to clasp the beloved form, and then with: "I have slain
thee, my brother," despair seized him and he fell prostrate in utter
grief.
Meantime, the Asa folk crowded round the silent form of Balder,
weeping and wailing; but, alas! their moans and tears could not bring
Balder back. At length, All-Father Odin, whose grief was too deep for
lamentations, bade them be silent and prepare to bear the body of the
dead Asa to the seashore.
The unhappy Hoder, unable to take part in these last offices, made his
way sadly through Asgard, beyond the walls and along the seashore,
until he came to the house Fensalir.
Frigga was seated upon her seat of honour before the fire against the
inner wall, and standing before her, with bent head and woeful
sightless gaze, Hoder told her of the dread mishap that had befallen.
"Tell me, O mother," he cried in ending, and his voice sounded like
the wail of the wind on stormy nights, "tell me, is there aught I can
do to bring my brother back? Or can I make agreement with the dread
mother of the Underworld, giving my life in exchange for his?"
Woe crowded upon woe in the heart of Frigga as she listened to the
story. The doom was wrought that she had tried so vainly to avert,
and not even her mother's love had availed to safeguard the son so
dearly cherished.
"On Balder Death hath laid her hand, not thee, my son," she said, "yet
though we fail in the end, there is much that may be tried before all
hope is lost."
Then she told Hoder of a road by which the abode of Hela could be
reached, one which had been travelled by none living save Odin
himself.
"Who goes that way must take no other horse
To ride, but Sleipnir, Odin's horse, alone.
Nor must he choose that common path of gods
Which every day they come and go in heaven,
O'er the bridge Bifrost, where is Heimdall's watch.
But he must tread a dark untravelled road
Which branches from the north of heaven, and ride
Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice,
Through valleys deep engulfed, with roaring streams.
And he will reach on the tenth morn a bridge
Which spans with golden arches Giöll's stream.
Then he will journey through no lighted land,
Nor see the sun arise, nor see it set;
And he must fare across the dismal ice
Northward, until he meets a stretching wall
Barring his way, and in the wall a grate,
But then he must dismount and on the ice
Tighten the girths of Sleipnir, Odin's horse,
And make him leap the grate, and come within."
There in that cheerless abode dead Balder was enthroned, but, said
Frigga, he who braves that dread journey must take no heed of him, nor
of the sad ghosts flitting to and fro, like eddying leaves. First he
must accost their gloomy queen and entreat her with prayers:
"Telling her all that grief they have in heaven
For Balder, whom she holds by right below."
A bitter groan of anguish escaped from Hoder when Frigga had finished
her recital of the trials which must be undergone:
"Mother, a dreadful way is this thou showest;
No journey for a sightless god to go."
And she replied:
"... Thyself thou shalt not go, my son;
But he whom first thou meetest when thou com'st
To Asgard and declar'st this hidden way,
Shall go; and I will be his guide unseen."
Meantime the Asa folk had felled trees and had carried to the seashore
outside the walls of Asgard a great pile of fuel, which they laid upon
the deck of Balder's great ship, _Ringhorn_, as it lay stranded high
up on the beach.
"Seventy ells and four extended
On the grass the vessel's keel;
High above it, gilt and splendid,
Rose the figurehead ferocious
With its crest of steel."
Then they adorned the funeral pyre with garlands of flowers, with
golden vessels and rings, with finely wrought weapons and rich
necklets and armlets; and when this was done they carried out the fair
body of Balder the Beautiful, and bearing it reverently upon their
shields they laid it upon the pyre.
Then they tried to launch the good ship, but so heavily laden was she
that they could not stir her an inch.
The Mountain-Giants, from their heights afar, had watched the tragedy
with eyes that were not unpitying, for even they had no ill-will for
Balder, and they sent and told of a giantess called Hyrroken, who was
so strong that she could launch any vessel whatever its weight might
be.
So the Asas sent to fetch her from Giantland, and she soon came,
riding a wolf for steed and twisted serpents for reins.
When she alighted, Odin ordered four of his mightiest warriors to
hold the wolf, but he was so strong that they could do nothing until
the giantess had thrown him down and bound him fast.
Then with a few enormous strides, Hyrroken reached the great vessel,
and set her shoulder against the prow, sending the ship rolling into
the deep. The earth shook with the force of the movement as though
with an earthquake, and the Asa folk collided with one another like
pine-trees during a storm. The ship, too, with its precious weight,
was well-nigh lost. At this Thor was wroth and, seizing his hammer,
would have slain the giantess had not the other Asas held him back,
bidding him not forget the last duty to the dead god. So Thor hallowed
the pyre with a touch of his sacred hammer and kindled it with a thorn
twig, which is the emblem of sleep.
Last of all, before the pyre blazed up, All-Father Odin added to the
pile of offerings his magic ring, from which fell eight new rings
every ninth night, and bending he whispered in Balder's ear.
But none to this day know the words that Odin spake thus in the ear of
his dead son.
Then the flames from the pyre rose high and the great ship drifted out
to sea, and the wind caught the sails and fanned the flames till it
seemed as though sky and sea were wrapped in golden flame.
"And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down
Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on.
But through the dark they watched the burning ship
Still carried o'er the distant waters....
But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared;
And as, in a decaying winter fire,
A charr'd log, falling, makes a shower of sparks--
So, with a shower of sparks, the pile fell in,
Reddening the sea around; and all was dark."
And thus did Balder the Beautiful pass from the peaceful steads of
Asgard, as passes the sun when he paints the evening clouds with the
glory of his setting.
_Note._--Most of the poetical extracts throughout this
chapter are taken from Matthew Arnold's "Balder Dead."
THE PASSING OF BALDER
I heard a voice, that cried,
"Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!"
And through the misty air
Passed like the mournful cry
Of sunward sailing cranes.
I saw the pallid corpse
Of the dead sun
Borne through the Northern sky.
Blasts from Niffelheim
Lifted the sheeted mists
Around him as he passed.
And the voice for ever cried,
"Balder the Beautiful
Is dead, is dead!"
And died away
Through the dreary night,
In accents of despair.
Balder the Beautiful,
God of the summer sun,
Fairest of all the Gods!
Light from his forehead beamed,
Runes were upon his tongue,
As on the warrior's sword.
All things in earth and air
Bound were by magic spell
Never to do him harm;
Even the plants and stones;
All save the mistletoe,
The sacred mistletoe!
Hoder, the blind old God,
Whose feet are shod with silence,
Pierced through that gentle breast
With his sharp spear, by fraud
Made of the mistletoe,
The accursed mistletoe!
They laid him in his ship,
With horse and harness,
As on a funeral pyre.
Odin placed
A ring upon his finger,
And whispered in his ear.
They launched the burning ship!
It floated far away
Over the misty sea,
Till like the sun it seemed,
Sinking beneath the waves.
Balder returned no more!
LONGFELLOW.