TYR.
Tyr, Tiu, or Ziu was the son of Odin, and, according to different
mythologists, his mother was either Frigga, queen of the gods, or a
beautiful giantess whose name is unknown, but who was a personification
of the raging sea. He is the god of martial honor, and one of the
twelve principal deities of Asgard. Although he appears to have had no
special dwelling there, he was always welcome to Vingolf or Valhalla,
and occupied one of the twelve thrones in the great council hall of
Glads-heim.
“The hall Glads-heim, which is built of gold;
Where are in circle ranged twelve golden chairs,
And in the midst one higher, Odin’s throne.”
BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).
[Sidenote: The god of war.]
Tyr was regarded also as the god of courage and of war, and therefore
frequently invoked by the various nations of the North, who cried
to him as well as to Odin to obtain victory. That he ranked next to
Odin and Thor is proved by his name, Tiu, having been given to one of
the days of the week, Tiu’s day, which in modern English has become
Tuesday. Under the name of Ziu, Tyr was the principal divinity of the
Suabians, who originally called their capital, the modern Augsburg,
Ziusburg. This people, venerating the god as they did, were wont to
worship him under the emblem of a sword, his distinctive attribute,
and in his honor held great sword dances, where various figures were
carried out. Sometimes the participants forming two long lines, crossed
their swords, point upwards, and challenged the boldest among their
number to take a flying leap over them. At other times the warriors
joined their sword points closely together in the shape of a rose or
wheel, and when this figure was complete invited their chief to stand
on the navel thus formed of flat, shining steel blades, and then they
bore him upon it through the camp in triumph. The sword point was
further considered so sacred that it became customary to register oaths
upon it.
“... Come hither, gentlemen,
And lay your hands again upon my sword;
Never to speak of this that you have heard,
Swear by my sword.”
HAMLET (Shakespeare).
A distinctive feature of the worship of this god among the Franks and
some other Northern nations was that the priests called Druids or Godi
offered up human sacrifices upon his altars, generally cutting the
bloody or spread eagle upon their victims, that is to say, making a
deep incision on either side of the backbone, turning the ribs thus
loosened inside out, and tearing out the viscera through the opening
thus made. Of course only prisoners of war were treated thus, and it
was considered a point of honor with north European races to endure
this torture without a moan. These sacrifices were made upon rude stone
altars called dolmens, which can still be seen in Northern Europe.
As Tyr was considered the patron god of the sword, it was deemed
indispensable to engrave the sign or rune representing him upon the
blade of every sword--an observance which the Edda enjoined upon all
those who were desirous of obtaining victory.
“Sig-runes thou must know,
If victory (_sigr_) thou wilt have,
And on thy sword’s hilt rist them;
Some on the chapes,
Some on the guard,
And twice name the name of Tyr.”
LAY OF SIGDRIFA (Thorpe’s tr.).
Tyr was identical with the Saxon god Saxnot (from sax, a sword), and
with Er, Heru, or Cheru, the chief divinity of the Cheruski, who also
considered him god of the sun, and deemed his shining sword blade an
emblem of its rays.
“This very sword a ray of light
Snatched from the Sun!”
VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).
[Sidenote: Tyr’s sword.]
According to an ancient legend, Cheru’s sword, which had been
fashioned by the dwarfs, sons of Ivald--the same who had also made
Odin’s spear--was held very sacred by his people, to whose care he
had intrusted it, declaring that those who possessed it were sure to
have the victory over their foes. But although carefully guarded in
the temple, where it was hung so that it reflected the first beams of
the morning sun, it suddenly and mysteriously disappeared one night.
A Vala, druidess, or prophetess, consulted by the priests, revealed
that the Norns had decreed that whoever wielded it would conquer the
world and come to his death by it; but in spite of all entreaties she
refused to tell who had taken it or where it might be found. Some time
after this occurrence a tall and dignified stranger came to Cologne,
where Vitellius, the Roman prefect, was feasting, called him away from
his beloved dainties, gave him the sword, telling him it would bring
him glory and renown, and hailed him as emperor. This cry was taken up
by the assembled legions, and Vitellius, without making any personal
effort to secure the honor, found himself elected Emperor of Rome.
The new ruler, however, was so absorbed in indulging his taste for
food and drink that he paid but little heed to the divine weapon. One
day while leisurely making his way towards Rome he carelessly left it
hanging in the antechamber to his apartments. A German soldier seized
this opportunity to substitute in its stead his own rusty blade. The
besotted emperor went on, and was so busily engaged in feasting that he
did not notice the exchange. When he arrived at Rome, he learned that
the Eastern legions had named Vespasian emperor, and that he was even
then on his way home to claim the throne.
Searching for the sacred weapon to defend his rights, Vitellius now
discovered the theft, and, overcome by superstitious fears, did not
even attempt to fight. He crawled away into a dark corner of his
palace, whence he was ignominiously dragged by the enraged populace to
the foot of the Capitoline Hill. There the prophecy was duly fulfilled,
for the German soldier, who had joined the opposite faction, coming
along at that moment, cut off Vitellius’ head with the sacred sword.
The German soldier now changed from one legion to another, and traveled
over many lands; but wherever he and his sword were found, victory
was assured. After winning great honor and distinction, this man,
having grown old, retired from active service to the banks of the
Danube, where he secretly buried his treasured weapon, building his hut
over its resting place to guard it as long as he lived. But although
implored, when he lay on his deathbed, to reveal where he had hidden
it, he persistently refused to do so, saying that it would be found
by the man who was destined to conquer the world, but that he would
not be able to escape the curse. Years passed by. Wave after wave the
tide of barbarian invasion swept over that part of the country, and
last of all came the terrible Huns under the leadership of Attila,
the “Scourge of God.” As he passed along the river, he saw a peasant
mournfully examining his cow’s foot, which had been wounded by some
sharp instrument hidden in the long grass, and when search was made the
point of a buried sword was found sticking out of the soil.
Attila, seeing the beautiful workmanship and the fine state of
preservation of this weapon, immediately exclaimed that it was Cheru’s
sword, and brandishing it above his head announced that he was about
to conquer the world. Battle after battle was fought by the Huns, who,
according to the Saga, were everywhere victorious, until Attila, weary
of warfare, settled down in Hungary, taking to wife the beautiful
Burgundian princess Ildico, whose father he had slain. This princess,
resenting the murder of her kin and wishing to avenge it, took
advantage of the king’s state of intoxication upon his wedding night to
secure possession of the divine sword, with which she slew him in his
bed, once more fulfilling the prophecy uttered so many years before.
The magic sword again disappeared for a long time, only to be unearthed
once more and wielded by the Duke of Alva, Charles V.’s general, who
shortly after won the victory of Mühlberg (1547). Since then nothing
more has been heard of the sword of the god Cheru, in whose honor the
Franks were wont to celebrate yearly martial games; but it is said that
when the heathen gods were renounced in favor of Christianity, the
priests transferred many of their attributes to the saints, and that
this sword became the property of the Archangel St. Michael, who has
wielded it ever since.
Tyr, whose name was synonymous with bravery and wisdom, was also
considered by the ancient Northern people to have the white-armed
Valkyrs, Odin’s attendants, at his beck and call, and to designate the
warriors whom they had best transfer to Valhalla to aid the gods on the
last day.
“The god Tyr sent
Gondul and Skogul
To choose a king
Of the race of Ingve,
To dwell with Odin
In roomy Valhal.”
NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).
[Sidenote: Story of the wolf Fenris.]
Tyr was generally spoken of and represented as one-armed, just as
Odin was called one-eyed. This fact is explained in various ways by
different authorities; some claim that it was because he could give the
victory only to one side; others, because a sword has but one blade.
However this may be, these explanations did not satisfy the ancients,
who preferred to account for the fact by the following myth:
Loki, the arch deceiver, went to Jötun-heim and secretly married
the hideous giantess Angur-boda (anguish boding), who bore him three
monstrous children--the wolf Fenris, Hel, the party-colored goddess of
death, and Iörmungandr, a terrible serpent. He kept the existence of
these monsters secret as long as he could; but they speedily grew so
large that they could no longer remain confined in the cave where they
had come to light. Odin, from the top of his throne Hlidskialf, soon
became aware of their existence, and also of the frightful rapidity
with which they increased in size. Fearing lest the monsters, when they
had gained a little more strength, should invade Asgard and destroy the
gods, Allfather determined to get rid of them, and, striding off to
Jötun-heim, flung Hel down into the depths of Nifl-heim, where he told
her she could reign over the nine dismal worlds of the dead. He threw
Iörmungandr into the sea, where he stretched himself and grew until he
encircled all the earth and could bite his own tail.
“Into mid-ocean’s dark depths hurled,
Grown with each day to giant size,
The serpent soon inclosed the world,
With tail in mouth, in circle-wise;
Held harmless still
By Odin’s will.”
VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).
None too well pleased that the serpent should have attained such
fearful dimensions in his new element, Odin resolved to lead Fenris to
Asgard, where he hoped, by kindly treatment, to make him gentle and
tractable. But the gods one and all shrank back in dismay when they
saw the wolf, and none dared approach to give him food except Tyr,
whom nothing ever daunted. Seeing that Fenris daily increased in size,
strength, voracity, and fierceness, the gods assembled in council to
deliberate how they might best dispose of him. They unanimously decided
that it would desecrate their peace-steads to slay him, and resolved to
bind him fast so that he could work them no harm.
With that purpose in view, they ordered a strong chain named Læding,
and, going out into the yard with it, playfully proposed to Fenris to
bind it about him, to see whether his vaunted strength could burst it
asunder. Confident in his ability to release himself, Fenris patiently
allowed them to bind him fast, but when all stood aside, he shook and
stretched himself and easily broke the chain to pieces.
Concealing their chagrin, the gods praised his strength, but soon
left him to order a much stronger fetter, Droma, which, after some
persuasion, the wolf allowed them to fasten around him also. A short,
sharp struggle sufficed, however, to burst this bond too; so it has
become proverbial in the North to use the figurative expressions, “to
get loose out of Læding,” and “to dash out of Droma,” whenever great
difficulties have to be surmounted.
“Twice did the Æsir strive to bind,
Twice did they fetters powerless find;
Iron or brass of no avail,
Naught, save through magic, could prevail.”
VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).
The gods, perceiving now that ordinary bonds, however strong, would
never prevail against the Fenris wolf’s great strength, bade Skirnir,
Frey’s servant, go down to Svart-alfa-heim and bid the dwarfs fashion a
bond which nothing could sever.
By magic arts the dark elves manufactured a slender silken rope out of
such impalpable materials as the sound of a cat’s footsteps, a woman’s
beard, the roots of a mountain, the longings of the bear, the voice of
fishes, and the spittle of birds, and when it was finished they gave it
to Skirnir, assuring him that no strength would avail to break it, and
that the more it was strained the stronger it would become.
“Gleipnir, at last,
By Dark Elves cast,
In Svart-alf-heim, with strong spells wrought,
To Odin was by Skirnir brought:
As soft as silk, as light as air,
Yet still of magic power most rare.”
VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).
Armed with this bond, called Gleipnir, the gods went with Fenris to the
Island of Lyngvi, in the middle of Lake Amsvartnir, and again proposed
to test his strength. But although Fenris had grown still stronger, he
mistrusted the bond which looked so slight. He therefore refused to
allow himself to be bound, unless one of the Æsir would consent to put
his hand in his mouth, and leave it there, as a pledge of good faith,
and that no magic arts were to be used against him.
The gods heard this condition with dismay, and all drew back except
Tyr, who, seeing that the others would not venture to comply with
this request, boldly stepped forward and thrust his hand between the
monster’s jaws. The gods now fastened Gleipnir around Fenris’s neck and
paws, shouting and laughing with glee when they saw that his utmost
efforts to free himself were fruitless. Tyr, however, could not share
their joy, for the wolf, finding himself captive, snapped his teeth
together for rage, biting off the god’s hand at the wrist, which since
then has been known as the wolf’s joint.
LOKI.
“Be silent, Tyr!
Thou couldst never settle
A strife ’twixt two;
Of thy right hand also
I must mention make,
Which Fenris from thee took.
TYR.
I of a hand am wanting
But thou of honest fame;
Sad is the lack of either.
Nor is the wolf at ease:
He in bonds must bide
Until the gods’ destruction.”
SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).
Deprived of his right hand, Tyr was now forced to use the maimed arm
for his shield, and to wield his sword with his left hand; but such was
his dexterity that he slew just as many enemies as before.
The gods, in spite of all the wolf’s struggles, now drew the end of the
fetter Gelgia through the rock Gioll, and fastened it to the bowlder
Thviti, which was sunk deep in the ground. Opening wide his fearful
jaws, Fenris uttered such terrible howls that the gods, to silence
him, thrust a sword into his mouth, the hilt resting upon his lower
jaw and the point against his palate. The blood then began to pour out
in such streams that it formed a great river, called Von. The wolf was
condemned to remain thus chained fast until the last day, when his
bonds would burst and he would find himself free to avenge his wrongs.
“The wolf Fenrir,
Freed from the chain,
Shall range the earth.”
DEATH-SONG OF HAKON (W. Taylor’s tr.).
While some mythologists see in this myth an emblem of crime restrained
and made innocuous by the power of the law, others see the underground
fire, which kept within bounds can injure no one, but which unfettered
fills the world with destruction and woe. Just as Odin’s second eye is
said to rest in Mimir’s well, so Tyr’s second hand (sword) is found in
Fenris’s jaws, as he has no more use for two weapons than the sky for
two suns.
Tyr’s worship is commemorated in sundry places (such as Tübingen, in
Germany), which bear more or less modified forms of his name. It has
also been given to the aconite, a plant known in Northern countries as
“Tyr’s helm.”