[Illustration: ODIN.]




                        MYTHS OF NORTHERN LANDS


                   NARRATED WITH SPECIAL REFERENCE TO
                           LITERATURE AND ART


                                   BY

                             H. A. GUERBER
                  AUTHOR OF “MYTHS OF GREECE AND ROME”


 “_Wake again, Teutonic Father ages,
  Speak again, beloved primæval creeds;
  Flash ancestral spirit from your pages,
  Wake the greedy age to noble deeds._”

              CHARLES KINGSLEY

                                   ❦

                  NEW YORK ⁘ CINCINNATI ⁘ CHICAGO
                         AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY




                          Copyright, 1895, by
                         AMERICAN BOOK COMPANY.

                        MYTHS OF NORTHERN LANDS.




                               DEDICATED
                                   TO
                              MY PARENTS.




PREFACE.


The aim of this handbook of Northern mythology is to familiarize the
English student of letters with the religion of his heathen ancestors,
and to set forth, as clearly as possible, the various myths which have
exercised an influence over our customs, arts, and literature.

As Norwegians, Danes, Swedes, Icelanders, Germans, English, and French
all came originally from the same stock and worshiped the same gods, so
these tales formed the basis not only of their religious belief, but
also of their first attempts at poetry. They are the classics of the
North, and deserve as much attention at our hands as the more graceful
and idyllic mythology of the South.

The most distinctive traits of the Northern mythology are a peculiar
grim humor which is found in the religion of no other race, and a dark
thread of tragedy which runs throughout the whole woof. These two
characteristics, touching both extremes of the scale, have colored
Northern thought, and have left their indelible imprint upon all our
writings even to this day.

The mythology of Greece and Rome, growing as spontaneous and luxuriant
as the tropical vegetation, came to its full fruition and began to
decay before the introduction of Christianity. But Northern mythology,
of slower growth, was arrested in mid-career before it had attained its
complete development.

A glossary, and complete index have been added to adapt this book for
general use in libraries and public schools. Author and publishers
sincerely trust that this little work will be as kindly received and as
well appreciated as has been the case with its predecessor, “Myths of
Greece and Rome,” the first volume of this series.




CONTENTS.


     CHAP.                                                          PAGE

       I.  THE BEGINNING OF ALL THINGS                                 9

      II.  ODIN                                                       23

     III.  FRIGGA                                                     46

      IV.  THOR                                                       61

       V.  TYR                                                        84

      VI.  BRAGI                                                      93

     VII.  IDUN                                                      100

    VIII.  NIÖRD                                                     107

      IX.  FREY                                                      112

       X.  FREYA                                                     124

      XI.  ULLER                                                     131

     XII.  FORSETI                                                   134

    XIII.  HEIMDALL                                                  137

     XIV.  HERMOD                                                    144

      XV.  VIDAR                                                     147

     XVI.  VALI                                                      150

    XVII.  THE NORNS                                                 154

   XVIII.  THE VALKYRS                                               160

     XIX.  HEL                                                       166

      XX.  ÆGIR                                                      171

     XXI.  BALDER                                                    182

    XXII.  LOKI                                                      198

   XXIII.  THE GIANTS                                                210

    XXIV.  THE DWARFS                                                217

     XXV.  THE ELVES                                                 221

    XXVI.  THE SIGURD SAGA                                           225

   XXVII.  THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS                                  263

  XXVIII.  GREEK AND NORTHERN MYTHOLOGIES--A COMPARISON              274

  INDEX TO POETICAL QUOTATIONS                                       293

  INDEX AND GLOSSARY                                                 295




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.


  ODIN                                                    _Frontispiece_
                                                                  _Page_
  NORTH CAPE AND THE MIDNIGHT SUN                                      9

  VALHALLA--Hoffmann                                                  25

  THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN--H. Kaulbach                              32

  FRIGGA                                                              48

  EÁSTRE, OR OSTARA                                                   57

  THOR                                                                69

  FREY                                                               112

  FREYA                                                              124

  THE WITCHES DANCE (VALPURGISNACHT)--Von Kreling                    129

  VALKYRS RIDING TO BATTLE--P. N. Arbo                               160

  LORELEI AND THE FISHERMAN--Paul Thumann                            180

  BALDER                                                             188

  LOKI AND SIGYN--Carl Gebhardt                                      200

  NORWEGIAN WATERFALL                                                208

  TORGHATTEN, NORWAY                                                 213

  DANCE OF THE WILL-O’-THE-WISPS--W. Kray                            221

  OLD HOUSES WITH CARVED DOORPOSTS, NORWAY                           224

  THE BRANSTOCK--Hoffmann                                            229

  SIGURD AND THE DRAGON--K. Dielitz                                  245

  BRUNHILD’S AWAKENING--Th. Pixis                                    249

  GUDRUN GIVING THE MAGIC DRINK TO SIGURD--Th. Pixis                 252

  BRUNHILD--Th. Pixis                                                256

  HÖGNI THROWING THE TREASURE INTO THE RHINE--Julius Schnorr         260




[Illustration: NORTH CAPE AND THE MIDNIGHT SUN.]




MYTHS OF NORTHERN LANDS.




CHAPTER I.

THE BEGINNING OF ALL THINGS.


Although the Aryan inhabitants of northern Europe are supposed by some
authorities to have come originally from the plateau of Iran, in the
heart of Asia, the climate and scenery of the countries where they
finally settled had great influence in shaping their early religious
beliefs, as well as in ordering their mode of living.

The grand and rugged landscapes of Northern Europe, the midnight sun,
the flashing rays of the aurora borealis, the ocean continually lashing
itself into fury against the great cliffs and icebergs of the arctic
circle, could not but impress the people as vividly as the almost
miraculous vegetation, the perpetual light, and the blue seas and skies
of their brief summer season. It is no great wonder, therefore, that
the Icelanders, for instance, to whom we owe the most perfect records
of this belief, fancied in looking about them that the world was
originally created from a strange mixture of fire and ice.

Northern mythology is grand and tragical. Its principal theme is the
perpetual struggle of the beneficent forces of Nature against the
injurious, and hence it is not graceful and idyllic in character like
the religion of the sunny South, where the people could bask in
perpetual sunshine, and the fruits of the earth grew ready to their
hand.

It was very natural that the dangers incurred in hunting and fishing
under these inclement skies, and the suffering entailed by the long
cold winters when the sun never shines, made our ancestors contemplate
cold and ice as malevolent spirits; and it was with equal reason that
they invoked with special fervor the beneficent influences of heat and
light.

[Sidenote: Myths of creation.]

When questioned concerning the creation of the world, the Northern
scalds or poets, whose songs are preserved in the Eddas and Sagas,
declared that in the beginning, when there was as yet no earth, nor
sea, nor air, when darkness rested over all, there existed a powerful
being called Allfather, whom they dimly conceived as uncreated as well
as unseen, and that whatever he willed came to pass.

In the center of space there was, in the morning of time, a great abyss
called Ginnunga-gap, the cleft of clefts, the yawning gulf, whose
depths no eye could fathom, as it was enveloped in perpetual twilight.
North of this abode was a space or world known as Nifl-heim, the home
of mist and darkness, in the center of which bubbled the exhaustless
spring Hvergelmir, the seething caldron, whose waters supplied twelve
great streams known as the Elivagar. As the water of these streams
flowed swiftly away from its source and encountered the cold blasts
from the yawning gulf, it soon hardened into huge blocks of ice, which
rolled downwards into the immeasurable depths of the great abyss with a
continual roar like thunder.

South of this dark chasm, and directly opposite Nifl-heim, the realm
of mist, was another world called Muspells-heim, the home of elemental
fire, where all was warmth and brightness, and whose frontiers were
continually guarded by Surtr, the flame giant. This giant fiercely
brandished his flashing sword, and continually sent forth great showers
of sparks, which fell with a hissing sound upon the ice blocks in the
bottom of the abyss, and partly melted them by their heat.

 “Great Surtur, with his burning sword,
  Southward at Muspel’s gate kept ward,
  And flashes of celestial flame,
  Life-giving, from the Fire-world came.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

[Sidenote: Ymir and Audhumla.]

As the steam rose in clouds it again encountered the prevailing cold,
and was changed into rime or hoar frost, which, layer by layer, filled
up the great central space. Thus by the continual action of cold and
heat, and also probably by the will of the uncreated and unseen,
a gigantic creature called Ymir or Orgelmir (seething clay), the
personification of the frozen ocean, came to life amid the ice blocks
in the abyss, and as he was born of rime he was called a Hrim-thurs or
ice giant.

 “In early times,
  When Ymir lived,
  Was sand, nor sea,
  Nor cooling wave;
  No earth was found,
  Nor heaven above;
  One chaos all,
  And nowhere grass.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Henderson’s tr.).

Groping about in the gloom in search of something to eat, Ymir
perceived a gigantic cow called Audhumla (the nourisher), which had
been created by the same agency as himself, and out of the same
materials. Hastening towards her, Ymir noticed with pleasure that
four great streams of milk flowed from her udder to supply him with
nourishment.

All his wants were thus satisfied; but the cow, looking about her for
food, began to lick the salt off a neighboring ice block with her rough
tongue. There she stood patiently licking that selfsame lump until the
hair of a god appeared. After she had licked some time longer the whole
head emerged from its icy envelope, and by and by Buri (the producer)
stepped forth entirely free.

While the cow had been thus engaged, Ymir, the giant, had fallen
asleep, and as he slept a son and daughter were born from the
perspiration under his armpit, and his feet produced the six-headed
giant Thrudgelmir, who, shortly after his birth, brought forth in his
turn the giant Bergelmir, from whom all the evil frost giants are
descended.

 “Under the armpit grew,
  ’Tis said of Hrim-thurs,
  A girl and boy together;
  Foot with foot begat,
  Of that wise Jötun,
  A six-headed son.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Odin, Vili, and Ve.]

When these giants became aware of the existence of the god Buri, and
of his son Börr (born), whom he had immediately produced, they began
waging war against them, for as the gods and giants represented the
opposite forces of good and evil, there was no hope of their ever
coming to an agreement and living together in peace. This struggle
continued evidently for ages, neither party gaining a decided
advantage, until Börr married the giantess Bestla, daughter of Bolthorn
(the thorn of evil), who bore him three powerful sons, Odin (spirit),
Vili (will), and Ve (holy). These three sons immediately joined their
father in his struggle against the inimical frost giants, and finally
succeeded in slaying their deadliest foe, the great Ymir. As he sank
down lifeless the blood gushed from his wounds in such floods that
it produced a great deluge, in which all his race perished, with the
exception of Bergelmir, who escaped in a boat and went with his wife to
the confines of the world.

    “And all the race of Ymer thou didst drown,
  Save one, Bergelmer,--he on shipboard fled
  Thy deluge, and from him the giants sprang.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Here he took up his abode, calling the place Jötun-heim (the home
of the giants), and here he begat a new race of frost giants, who
inherited his dislikes, continued the feud, and were always ready
to sally forth from their desolate country and make a raid into the
territory of the gods.

The gods, who in Northern mythology are called Æsir (pillars and
supporters of the world), having thus triumphed over all their foes,
and being no longer engaged in perpetual warfare, now began to look
about them, wondering how they could improve the desolate aspect of
things and fashion a habitable world. After due consideration Börr’s
sons rolled Ymir’s great corpse into the yawning abyss, and began to
make the world out of its various component parts.

[Sidenote: Creation of the earth.]

Out of the giant’s flesh they fashioned Midgard (middle garden), as
the earth was called, which was placed in the exact center of the vast
space, and hedged all round with Ymir’s eyebrows which formed its
bulwarks or ramparts. The solid portion of Midgard was surrounded by
the giant’s blood or sweat, which now formed the ocean, while his bones
made the hills, his flat teeth the cliffs, and his curly hair the trees
and all vegetation.

Well pleased with the result of these their first efforts at creation,
the gods took the giant’s unwieldy skull and poised it skillfully
above earth and sea as the vaulted heavens; then scattering his brains
throughout the expanse they fashioned from them the fleecy clouds.

 “Of Ymir’s flesh
  Was earth created,
  Of his blood the sea,
  Of his bones the hills,
  Of his hair trees and plants,
  Of his skull the heavens,
  And of his brows
  The gentle powers
  Formed Midgard for the sons of men;
  But of his brain
  The heavy clouds are
  All created.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

To support the heavenly vault in place, the gods stationed the strong
dwarfs, Nordri, Sudri, Austri, Westri, at its four corners, bidding
them uphold it on their shoulders, and from them the four points of the
compass received their present names of North, South, East, and West.
To light up the world thus created, the gods began to stud the heavenly
vault with sparks secured from Muspells-heim, points of light which
shone steadily through the gloom like brilliant stars. The most vivid
of all these sparks, however, were reserved for the manufacture of the
sun and moon, which were placed in beautiful golden chariots.

 “And from the flaming world, where Muspel reigns,
  Thou sent’st and fetched’st fire, and madest lights:
  Sun, moon, and stars, which thou hast hung in Heaven,
  Dividing clear the paths of night and day.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

When all these preparations had been finished, and the steeds Arvakr
(the early waker) and Alsvin (the rapid goer) were harnessed to the sun
chariot, the gods, fearing lest the animals should suffer from their
proximity to this ardent sphere, placed under their withers great skins
filled with air or with some iron refrigerant substance. They also
fashioned the shield Svalin (the cooler), and placed it in front of
the car to shelter them from the sun’s direct rays, which would else
have burned them and the earth to a crisp. The moon car was, moreover,
provided with a fleet steed called Alsvider (the all-swift); but as its
rays were very mild indeed, no shield was required to protect him.

[Sidenote: Mani and Sol.]

The chariots were all ready, the steeds harnessed and impatient to
begin their daily round, but there was no one to guide them along the
right road. The gods, perceiving this, looked about them and soon
beheld Mani (the moon) and Sol (the sun), children of giant Mundilfari,
who was so inordinately proud of his beautiful offspring that he called
them by the names of the newly created orbs. He gave his daughter Sol
in marriage to Glaur (glow), who was probably one of Surtr’s sons. The
brother and sister were transferred to the sky, where, after receiving
minute directions from the gods, they skillfully guided their fleet
steeds along their appointed paths.

 “Know that Mundilfær is hight
  Father to the moon and sun;
  Age on age shall roll away,
  While they mark the months and days.”

              HÁVAMÁL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

Seeing how satisfactory all these arrangements were, the gods now
summoned Nott (night), a daughter of one of the giants, Norvi, and
intrusted to her care a dark chariot, drawn by a sable steed, Hrim-faxi
(frost mane), from whose waving mane the dew and hoar frost dropped
down upon the earth.

 “Hrim-faxi is the sable steed,
  From the east who brings the night,
  Fraught with the showering joys of love:
  As he champs the foamy bit,
  Drops of dew are scattered round
  To adorn the vales of earth.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

The goddess of night had already thrice been married: by her first
husband, Naglfari, she had had a son named Aud; by her second, Annar, a
daughter Jörd (earth); and by her third, the god Dellinger (dawn), she
now had a son, radiant with beauty, who was called Dag (day).

As soon as the gods became aware of this beautiful being’s existence
they provided a chariot for him also, drawn by the resplendent white
steed Skin-faxi (shining mane), from whose mane bright beams of light
shone forth in every direction, illuminating all the world, and
bringing light and gladness to all.

 “Forth from the east, up the ascent of Heaven,
  Day drove his courser with the shining mane.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

[Sidenote: The wolves Sköll and Hati.]

But as evil always treads close upon the footsteps of good, hoping to
destroy it, the ancient inhabitants of the Northern regions imagined
that both Sun and Moon were incessantly pursued by the fierce wolves
Sköll (repulsion) and Hati (hatred), whose sole aim was to overtake
and swallow the brilliant objects before them, so that the world might
again be enveloped in its primeval darkness.

 “Sköll the wolf is named
  That the fair-faced goddess
  To the ocean chases;
  Another Hati hight,
  He is Hrodvitnir’s son;
  He the bright maid of heaven shall precede.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

At times, they said, the wolves overtook and tried to swallow their
prey, thus producing an eclipse of the radiant orbs. Then the terrified
people raised such a deafening clamor that the wolves, frightened by
the noise, hastily dropped them. Thus rescued, Sun and Moon resumed
their course, fleeing more rapidly than before, the hungry monsters
rushing along in their wake, anxious for the time when their efforts
would prevail and the end of the world would come. For the Northern
nations all believed that as their gods had sprung from an alliance
between the divine element (Börr) and the mortal (Bestla), they were
finite, and doomed to perish with the world they had made.

 “But even in this early morn
  Faintly foreshadowed was the dawn
  Of that fierce struggle, deadly shock,
  Which yet should end in Ragnarok;
  When Good and Evil, Death and Life,
  Beginning now, end then their strife.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Mani was also accompanied by Hiuki, the waxing, and Bil, the waning
moon, two children whom he had snatched from earth where a cruel father
forced them to carry water all night. Our ancestors fancied they saw
these children, the original “Jack and Jill,” with their pail, darkly
outlined upon the moon.

The gods not only appointed Sun, Moon, Day, and Night to count out the
year, but also called Evening, Midnight, Morning, Forenoon, Noon, and
Afternoon to share their duties, making Summer and Winter the rulers
of the seasons. Summer, a direct descendant of Svasud (the mild and
lovely), inherited his gentle disposition, and was loved by all except
Winter, his deadly enemy, the son of Vindsual, himself a son of the
disagreeable god Vasud, the personification of the icy wind.

 “Vindsual is the name of him
  Who begat the winter’s god;
  Summer from Suasuthur sprang:
  Both shall walk the way of years,
  Till the twilight of the gods.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

As the cold winds continually swept down from the north, chilling all
the earth, these nations further imagined that at the extreme northern
verge of the heavens sat the great giant Hræ-svelgr (the corpse
swallower), all clad in eagle plumes, and that whenever he raised his
arms or wings the cold blasts darted forth and swept ruthlessly over
the face of the earth, blighting all things with their icy breath.

 “Hræ-svelger is the name of him
  Who sits beyond the end of heaven,
  And winnows wide his eagle-wings,
  Whence the sweeping blasts have birth.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Dwarfs and Elves.]

While the gods were occupied in creating the earth and providing for
its illumination, a whole host of maggot-like creatures had been
breeding in Ymir’s flesh. Crawling in and out, they now attracted
divine attention. Summoning these uncouth beings into their presence,
the gods, after giving them forms and endowing them with superhuman
intelligence, divided them into two large classes. Those which
were dark, treacherous, and cunning by nature were banished to
Svart-alfa-heim, the home of the black dwarfs, situated underground,
whence they were never allowed to come forth as long as it was day,
under penalty of being turned into stone. They were called Dwarfs,
Trolls, Gnomes, or Kobolds, and spent all their time and energy in
exploring the secret recesses of the earth. They collected gold,
silver, and precious stones, which they stowed away in secret crevices,
whence they could withdraw them at will. As for the remainder of these
small creatures, including all that were fair, good, and useful, the
gods called them Fairies and Elves, and gave them a dwelling place in
the airy realm of Alf-heim (home of the light-elves), situated between
heaven and earth, whence they could flit downwards whenever they
pleased, to attend to the plants and flowers, sport with the birds and
butterflies, or dance in the silvery moonlight on the green. Odin, who
had been the leading spirit in all these undertakings, now bade the
gods, his descendants, follow him to the broad plain called Idawold,
far above the earth, on the other side of the great stream Ifing, whose
waters never froze.

 “Ifing’s deep and murky wave
  Parts the ancient sons of earth
  From the dwelling of the Goths:
  Open flows the mighty flood,
  Nor shall ice arrest its course
  While the wheel of Ages rolls.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

In the very center of the sacred space, which from the beginning of the
world had been reserved for their own abode and called Asgard (home of
the gods), the twelve Æsir (gods) and twenty-four Asynjur (goddesses)
all assembled. They decreed that no blood should ever be shed within
the limits of their realm, or peace stead, but that harmony must reign
there forever. Then after due consultation they established a forge
where they fashioned all their weapons and the tools required to build
magnificent palaces of precious metals, in which they lived for many
long years in a state of such perfect happiness that this period has
been called the Golden Age.

[Sidenote: Creation of man.]

Although the gods had from the beginning designed Midgard, or
Mana-heim, as the abode of man, there were at first no human beings to
inhabit it. One day Odin, Vili, and Ve, according to some authorities,
or Odin, Hoenir (the bright one), and Lodur, or Loki (fire), started
out together and walked along the seashore, where they found either
two trees, the ash, Ask, and the elm, Embla, or two blocks of wood,
hewn into rude semblances of the human form. The gods gazed at first
upon the inanimate wood in silent wonder, then perceiving the use it
could be put to, Odin gave these logs souls, Hoenir bestowed motion and
senses, and Lodur contributed blood and blooming complexions.

 “There were twain and they went upon earth, and were speechless,
          unmighty, and wan;
  They were hopeless, deathless, lifeless, and the Mighty named them
          Man.
  Then they gave them speech and power, and they gave them color and
          breath;
  And deeds and the hope they gave them, and they gave them Life and
          Death.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

This newly created man and woman were then left to rule Midgard at
will. They gradually peopled it with their descendants, while the gods,
remembering they had called them into life, took a special interest in
all they did, watched over them, and often vouchsafed their aid and
protection.

[Sidenote: The Yggdrasil tree.]

Allfather in the mean while had not been idle, but had created a huge
ash called Yggdrasil, the tree of the universe, of time, or of life,
which filled all the world, taking root not only in the remotest depths
of Nifl-heim, where bubbled the spring Hvergelmir, but also in Midgard,
near Mimir’s well (the ocean), and in Asgard, near the Urdar fountain.

These three great roots permitted the tree to attain such a marvelous
height that its topmost bough, called Lerad (the peace giver),
overshadowed Odin’s hall, while the other wide-spreading branches
towered over all the other worlds. An eagle was perched on the bough
Lerad, and between his eyes sat the falcon Vedfolnir, sending his
piercing glances down into heaven, earth, and Nifl-heim, and reporting
all he saw.

As the tree Yggdrasil was ever green, and its leaves never withered,
it served as pasturing ground not only for Odin’s goat Heidrun, which
supplied the heavenly mead, the drink of the gods, but also for the
stags Dain, Dvalin, Duneyr, and Durathor, from whose horns the honeydew
dropped down upon the earth and furnished the water for all the rivers
in the world.

In the seething caldron Hvergelmir, close by the great tree, was a
horrible dragon called Nidhug, which continually gnawed the roots, and
was helped in his work of destruction by countless worms, whose aim it
was to kill the tree, knowing that its death would be the signal for
the downfall of the gods.

 “Through all our life a tempter prowls malignant,
    The cruel Nidhug from the world below.
  He hates that asa-light whose rays benignant
    On th’ hero’s brow and glitt’ring sword bright glow.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

Scampering continually up and down the branches and trunk of the tree
was the squirrel Ratatosk (branch borer), the typical busybody and tale
bearer, which passed up and down, reporting the eagle’s remarks to the
dragon, and _vice versa_, in the hope of stirring up strife between
them.

[Sidenote: Bifröst.]

To maintain the tree Yggdrasil in a perfectly healthy condition, the
Norns or Fates daily sprinkled it with the holy waters from the Urdar
fountain, and as this water trickled down to earth it supplied the bees
with honey. From either edge of Nifl-heim, arching high above Midgard,
rose the gods’ bridge, Bifröst (Asabru, the rainbow), built of fire,
water, and air, whose quivering and changing hues it retained, and
over which none but the gods were privileged to travel to and fro, on
their journey to the earth or to the Urdar well, at the foot of the ash
Yggdrasil, where they daily assembled in council.

              “The gods arose
  And took their horses, and set forth to ride
  O’er the bridge Bifröst, where is Heimdall’s watch,
  To the ash Igdrasil, and Ida’s plain.
  Thor came on foot, the rest on horseback rode.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Of all the gods only Thor, the god of thunder, never passed over
the bridge, for they feared that his heavy tread or the heat of his
lightnings would destroy it. The gods’ watchman, Heimdall, kept guard
there night and day. He was armed with a very trenchant sword, and
carried a trumpet called Giallar-horn, upon which he generally blew a
soft note to announce the coming or going of the gods, but upon which
he would blow a terrible blast when Ragnarok should come, and the frost
giants and Surtr threatened to destroy the world.

 “Surt from the south comes
  With flickering flame;
  Shines from his sword
  The Val-god’s sun.
  The stony hills are dashed together,
  The giantesses totter;
  Men tread the path of Hel,
  And heaven is cloven.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The Vanas.]

Now although the original inhabitants of heaven were the Æsir, they
were not the sole divinities of the Northern races, who also recognized
the power of the sea and wind gods, the Vanas, dwelling in Vana-heim
and ruling their realms as they pleased. In early times, before the
golden palaces in Asgard were built, a dispute arose between the Æsir
and Vanas, and they soon resorted to arms to settle it, using rocks,
mountains, and icebergs as missiles. But discovering ere long that in
unity alone lay their strength, they agreed to let the quarrel drop and
make peace, and to ratify the treaty they exchanged hostages.

It was thus that the Van, Niörd, came to dwell in Asgard with his two
children, Frey and Freya, while the Asa, Hoenir, Odin’s own brother,
took up his abode in Vana-heim forever.




CHAPTER II.

ODIN.


[Sidenote: Odin’s personal appearance.]

Odin, Wuotan, or Woden was the highest and holiest god of the
Northern races. He was the all-pervading spirit of the universe, the
personification of the air, the god of universal wisdom and victory,
and the leader and protector of princes and heroes. As all the gods
were supposed to be descended from him, he was surnamed Allfather, and
as eldest and chief among them he occupied Asgard, the highest seat.
Known by the name of Hlidskialf, this chair was not only an exalted
throne, but also a mighty watch tower, from whence he could overlook
the whole world and see at a glance all that was happening among gods,
giants, elves, dwarfs, and men.

 “From the hall of Heaven he rode away
  To Lidskialf, and sate upon his throne,
  The mount, from whence his eye surveys the world.
  And far from Heaven he turn’d his shining orbs
  To look on Midgard, and the earth and men.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

None but Odin and his wife and queen Frigga had the privilege of using
this seat, and when they occupied it they generally gazed towards
the south and west, the goal of all the hopes and excursions of the
Northern nations. Odin was generally represented as a tall, vigorous
man, about fifty years of age, either with dark curling hair or with a
long gray beard and bald head. He was clad in a suit of gray, with a
blue hood, and his muscular body was enveloped in a wide blue mantle
all flecked with gray--an emblem of the sky with its fleecy clouds. In
his hand Odin generally carried the infallible spear Gungnir, which was
so sacred that an oath sworn upon its point could never be broken, and
on his finger or arm he wore the marvelous ring Draupnir, the emblem of
fruitfulness, precious beyond compare. When seated upon his throne or
armed for the fray, in which he often took an active part, Odin wore
his eagle helmet; but when he wandered about the earth in human guise,
to see what men were doing, he generally donned a broad-brimmed hat,
drawn down low over his forehead to conceal the fact of his having but
one eye.

 “Then into the Volsungs’ dwelling a mighty man there strode,
  One-eyed and seeming ancient, yet bright his visage glowed;
  Cloud-blue was the hood upon him, and his kirtle gleaming-gray
  As the latter morning sun dog when the storm is on the way:
  A bill he bore on his shoulder, whose mighty ashen beam
  Burnt bright with the flame of the sea and the blended silver’s
            gleam.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

Two ravens, Hugin (thought) and Munin (memory), perched upon his
shoulders as he sat upon his throne, and these he sent out into the
wide world every morning, anxiously watching for their return at
nightfall, when they whispered into his ears news of all they had
seen and heard, keeping him well informed about everything that was
happening on earth.

 “Hugin and Munin
  Fly each day
  Over the spacious earth.
  I fear for Hugin
  That he come not back,
  Yet more anxious am I for Munin.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

[Illustration: VALHALLA--Hoffmann.]

At his feet crouched two wolves or hunting hounds, Geri and Freki,
which animals were therefore considered sacred to him, and of good
omen if met by the way. Odin always fed these wolves with his own
hands from the meat set before him, for he required no food at all, and
seldom tasted anything except the sacred mead.

 “Geri and Freki
  The war-wont sates,
  The triumphant sire of hosts;
  But on wine only
  The famed in arms
  Odin, ever lives.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

When seated in state upon his throne, Odin rested his feet upon a
footstool of gold, the work of the gods, whose furniture and utensils
were all fashioned either of that precious metal or of silver.

Besides the magnificent hall Glads-heim, where stood the twelve seats
occupied by the gods when they met in council, and Valaskialf, where
his throne, Hlidskialf, was placed, Odin had a third palace in Asgard,
situated in the midst of the marvelous grove Glasir, whose leaves were
all of shimmering red gold.

[Sidenote: Valhalla.]

This palace, called Valhalla (the hall of the chosen slain), had five
hundred and forty doors, wide enough to allow the passage of eight
hundred warriors abreast, and above the principal gate were a boar’s
head and an eagle whose piercing glance looked all over the world.
The walls of this marvelous building were fashioned of glittering
spears, so highly polished that they illuminated all the hall. The
roof was of golden shields, and the benches were decorated with fine
armor, the god’s gifts to his guests. Here long tables afforded ample
accommodations for the warriors fallen in battle, who were called
Einheriar, and were considered Odin’s favorite guests.

 “Easily to be known is,
  By those who to Odin come,
  The mansion by its aspect.
  Its roof with spears is laid,
  Its hall with shields is decked,
  With corselets are its benches strewed.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

The ancient Northern nations, who deemed warfare the most honorable
of occupations, and considered courage the greatest virtue, worshiped
Odin principally as god of battle and victory, and believed that
whenever a fight was about to occur he sent out his special attendants,
the shield, battle, or wish maidens, called Valkyrs (choosers of the
slain). They selected one half the dead warriors, and bore them on
their fleet steeds over the quivering rainbow bridge Bifröst, into his
hall, where many honors awaited them. Welcomed by Odin’s sons, Hermod
and Bragi, the heroes were then conducted to the foot of Odin’s throne,
where they received the praises due their valor. When some special
favorite of the god was thus brought into Asgard, Valfather (father
of the slain), as Odin was called when he presided over the warriors,
sometimes rose from his throne to meet him at the door and himself bid
him welcome.

[Sidenote: The feast of the heroes.]

Besides the hope of the glory of such a distinction, and the promise
of dwelling in Odin’s beloved presence day after day, other more
material pleasures awaited the warriors in Valhalla. They were seated
around the board, where the beautiful white-armed virgins, the Valkyrs,
having laid aside their armor and clad themselves in pure white robes,
constantly waited upon them. These maidens, nine in number, according
to some mythologists, brought the heroes great horns full of delicious
mead, and set before them huge portions of boars’ flesh, upon which
they feasted most heartily. The usual Northern drink was beer or ale,
but our ancestors fancied this beverage too coarse for the heavenly
sphere. They therefore imagined that Valfather kept his table liberally
supplied with mead or hydromel, which was daily furnished in great
abundance by his she-goat Heidrun, continually browsing on the tender
leaves and twigs on Yggdrasil’s topmost branch, Lerad.

 “Rash war and perilous battle, their delight;
  And immature, and red with glorious wounds,
  Unpeaceful death their choice: deriving thence
  A right to feast and drain immortal bowls,
  In Odin’s hall; whose blazing roof resounds
  The genial uproar of those shades who fall
  In desperate fight, or by some brave attempt.”

              LIBERTY (James Thomson).

The meat upon which the Einheriar feasted was the flesh of the divine
boar Sæhrimnir, a marvelous beast, daily slain by the cook Andhrimnir,
and boiled in the great caldron Eldhrimnir; but although Odin’s guests
had true Northern appetites and fairly gorged themselves, there was
always plenty of meat for all.

 “Andhrimnir cooks
  In Eldhrimnir
  Sæhrimnir;
  ’Tis the best of flesh;
  But few know
  What the einherjes eat.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Anderson’s version).

Moreover the supply was exhaustless, for the boar always came to life
again before the time for the next meal, when he was again slain and
devoured. This miraculous renewal of supplies in the larder was not the
only wonderful occurrence in Valhalla, for it is also related that the
warriors, after having eaten and drunk to satiety, always called for
their weapons, armed themselves, and rode out into the great courtyard,
where they fought against one another, repeating the feats of arms
achieved while on earth, and recklessly dealing terrible wounds, which
were miraculously and completely healed as soon as the dinner horn
sounded.

 “All the chosen guests of Odin
  Daily ply the trade of war;
  From the fields of festal fight
  Swift they ride in gleaming arms,
  And gaily, at the board of gods,
  Quaff the cup of sparkling ale
  And eat Sæhrimni’s vaunted flesh.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

Whole and happy once more,--for they bore one another no grudge for
the cruel thrusts given and received, and lived in perfect amity
together,--the Einheriar then rode gaily back to Valhalla to renew
their feasts in Odin’s beloved presence, while the white-armed Valkyrs,
with flying hair, glided gracefully about, constantly filling their
horns or their favorite drinking vessels, the skulls of their enemies,
while the scalds sang of war and stirring Viking expeditions.

 “And all day long they there are hack’d and hewn
  ’Mid dust, and groans, and limbs lopp’d off, and blood;
  But all at night return to Odin’s hall
  Woundless and fresh; such lot is theirs in Heaven.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Thus fighting and feasting, the heroes were said to spend day after
day in perfect bliss, while Odin delighted in their strength and
number, which, however, he foresaw would not long avail to ward off his
downfall when the day of the last battle had dawned.

As such pleasures were the highest a Northern warrior’s fancy could
paint, it was very natural that all fighting men should love Odin, and
early in life should dedicate themselves to his service. They vowed to
die arms in hand, if possible, and even wounded themselves with their
own spears when death drew near, if they had been unfortunate enough to
escape death on the battlefield and were threatened with “straw death,”
as they called decease from old age or sickness.

 “To Odin then true-fast
  Carves he fair runics,--
  Death-runes cut deep on his arm and his breast.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

In reward for this devotion Odin watched with special care over his
favorites, giving them a magic sword, spear, or horse, and making them
invincible until their last hour had come, when he himself appeared to
claim or destroy the gift he had bestowed, and the Valkyrs bore them
off to Valhalla.

 “He gave to Hermod
  A helm and corselet,
  And from him Sigmund
  A sword received.”

              LAY OF HYNDLA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Sleipnir.]

Whenever Odin took an active part in war, he generally rode his
eight-footed gray steed, Sleipnir, brandished his white shield, and
flung his glittering spear over the heads of the combatants, who only
awaited this signal to fall upon one another, while the god dashed into
their midst shouting his warcry: “Odin has you all!”

          “And Odin donn’d
  His dazzling corslet and his helm of gold,
  And led the way on Sleipnir.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

At times he also used his magic bow, from which he shot ten arrows at
once, every one invariably bringing down a foe. Odin was also supposed
to inspire his favorite warriors with the renowned “Berserker rage”
(bare sark or shirt), which enabled them, although naked, weaponless,
and sore beset, to perform unheard-of feats of valor and strength, and
go about as with charmed lives.

As Odin’s characteristics, like the all-pervading elements, were
multitudinous, so were also his names, of which he had no less than
two hundred, almost all of which were descriptive of some phase of his
being. He was considered the ancient god of seamen and of the wind:

        “Mighty Odin,
    Norsemen hearts we bend to thee!
  Steer our barks, all-potent Woden,
    O’er the surging Baltic Sea.”

              VAIL.

[Sidenote: The Wild Hunt.]

Odin, as wind god, generally rode about on his eight-footed steed
Sleipnir, a habit which gave rise to the oldest Northern riddle,
which runs as follows: “Who are the two who ride to the Thing? Three
eyes have they together, ten feet, and one tail; and thus they travel
through the lands.” And as the souls of the dead were supposed to be
wafted away on the wings of the storm, Odin was worshiped as the leader
of all disembodied spirits. In this character he was most generally
known as the Wild Huntsman, and when people heard the rush and roar
of the wind they cried aloud in superstitious fear, fancying they
heard and saw him ride past with his train, all mounted on snorting
steeds, and accompanied by baying hounds. And the passing of the Wild
Hunt, known as Woden’s Hunt, the Raging Host, Gabriel’s Hounds, or
Asgardreia, was also considered a presage of misfortune of some kind,
such as pestilence or war.

 “The Rhine flows bright; but its waves ere long
    Must hear a voice of war,
  And a clash of spears our hills among,
    And a trumpet from afar;
  And the brave on a bloody turf must lie,
  For the Huntsman hath gone by!”

              THE WILD HUNTSMAN (Mrs. Hemans).

People further fancied that if any were so sacrilegious as to join
in the wild halloo in mockery, they were immediately snatched up and
whirled away with the vanishing host, while those who joined in the
halloo with implicit good faith were rewarded for their credulity by
the sudden gift of a horse’s leg, hurled at them from above, which, if
they carefully kept until the morrow, was changed into a solid lump of
gold.

Even after the introduction of Christianity the ignorant Northern
people still dreaded the on-coming storm, declaring that it was the
Wild Hunt sweeping across the sky.

      “And ofttimes will start,
  For overhead are sweeping Gabriel’s hounds,
      Doomed with their impious lord the flying hart
  To chase forever on aëreal grounds.”

              SONNET (Wordsworth).

Sometimes it left behind it a small black dog, which, cowering and
whining upon a neighboring hearth, had to be kept for a whole year
and carefully tended unless the people succeeded in exorcising it or
frightening it away. The usual recipe, the same as for the riddance
of changelings, was to brew beer in egg-shells, which performance so
startled the spectral dog that he fled with his tail between his legs,
exclaiming that, although as old as the Behmer, or Bohemian forest, he
had never yet seen such an uncanny sight.

 “I am as old
  As the Behmer wold,
  And have in my life
  Such a brewing not seen.”

              OLD SAYING (Thorpe’s tr.).

The object of this phantom hunt varied greatly, and was either a
visionary boar or wild horse, white-breasted maidens who were caught
and borne away bound only once in seven years, or the wood nymphs,
called Moss Maidens, who were thought to represent the autumn leaves
torn from the trees and whirled away by the wintry gale.

In the middle ages, when the belief in the old heathen deities was
partly forgotten, the leader of the Wild Hunt was no longer Odin,
but Charlemagne, Frederick Barbarossa, King Arthur, or some Sabbath
breaker, like the squire of Rodenstein or Hans von Hackelberg, who,
in punishment for his sins, was condemned to hunt forever through the
realms of air.

As the winds blew fiercest in autumn and winter, Odin was supposed
to hunt in preference during that season, especially during the time
between Christmas and Twelfth-night, and the peasants were always
careful to leave the last sheaf or measure of grain out in the fields
to serve as food for his horse.

This hunt was of course known by various names in the different
countries of northern Europe; but as the tales told about it are all
alike, they evidently originated in the same old heathen belief, and to
this day ignorant people of the North still fancy that the baying of a
hound on a stormy night is an infallible presage of death.

 “Still, still shall last the dreadful chase,
    Till time itself shall have an end;
  By day, they scour earth’s cavern’d space,
    At midnight’s witching hour, ascend.

  “This is the horn, and hound, and horse
    That oft the lated peasant hears;
  Appall’d, he signs the frequent cross,
    When the wild din invades his ears.

  “The wakeful priest oft drops a tear
    For human pride, for human woe,
  When, at his midnight mass, he hears
    The infernal cry of ‘Holla, ho!’”

              SIR WALTER SCOTT.

The Wild Hunt, or Raging Host of Germany, was called Herlathing in
England, from the mythical king Herla, its supposed leader; in northern
France it bore the name of Mesnée d’Hellequin, from Hel, goddess of
death; and in the middle ages it was known as Cain’s Hunt or Herod’s
Hunt, these latter names being given because the leaders were supposed
to be unable to find rest on account of the iniquitous murders of Abel,
of John the Baptist and of the Holy Innocents.

In central France the Wild Huntsman, whom we have already seen in
other countries as Odin, Charlemagne, Barbarossa, Rodenstein, von
Hackelberg, King Arthur, Hel, one of the Swedish kings, Gabriel, Cain,
or Herod, is also called the Great Huntsman of Fontainebleau (_le Grand
Veneur de Fontainebleau_), and people declare that on the eve of Henry
IV.’s murder, and also just before the outbreak of the great French
Revolution, his shouts were distinctly heard as he swept across the sky.

[Illustration: THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN.--H. Kaulbach.]

It was generally believed among the Northern nations that the soul
escaped from the body in the shape of a mouse, which crept out of a
corpse’s mouth and ran away, and it was also said to creep in and
out of the mouths of people in a trance. While the soul was absent, no
effort or remedy could recall the patient to life; but as soon as it
had come back animation returned.

[Sidenote: The Pied Piper.]

As Odin was the leader of all disembodied spirits, he was identified in
the middle ages with the Pied Piper of Hamelin. According to mediæval
legends, Hamelin was so infested by rats (the souls of the dead) that
life became unbearable, and a large reward was offered to the person
who would rid the town of these rodents. A piper, in party-colored
garments, undertook the job, and piped so gaily that the rats were one
and all beguiled out of their holes, along the street, and down to the
river Weser, where they were drowned.

 “And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,
  You heard as if an army muttered;
  And the muttering grew to a grumbling;
  And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;
  And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.
  Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,
  Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,
  Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,
    Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,
  Cocking tails and pricking whiskers,
    Families by tens and dozens,
  Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives--
  Followed the Piper for their lives.
  From street to street he piped advancing,
  And step for step they followed dancing,
  Until they came to the river Weser,
  Wherein all plunged and perished!”

              ROBERT BROWNING.

As the rats were all dead, and there was no chance of their returning
to plague them, the people of Hamelin refused to pay the promised
reward, and braving the piper’s anger bade him do his worst. A few
moments later the magic flute again began to play, and the astonished
parents saw all their children gaily swarm out of the houses and
merrily follow the piper.

 “There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling
  Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling;
  Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,
  Little hands clapping and little tongues chattering,
  And, like fowls in a farmyard when barley is scattering,
  Out came all the children running.
  All the little boys and girls,
  With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,
  And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,
  Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after
  The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.”

              ROBERT BROWNING.

While the parents stood there helpless and spellbound, the piper
led the children out of the town to the Koppelberg, a hill, which
miraculously opened to receive them, and only closed again when the
last child had passed out of sight. The children were never seen
in Hamelin again, and in commemoration of this public calamity all
official decrees have since been dated so many years after the Pied
Piper’s visit.

 “They made a decree that lawyers never
    Should think their records dated duly
  If, after the day of the month and year,
  These words did not as well appear,
  ‘And so long after what happened here
    On the Twenty-second of July,
  Thirteen hundred and seventy-six.’
  And the better in memory to fix
  The place of the children’s last retreat,
  They called it the Pied Piper street--
  Where any one playing on pipe or tabor
  Was sure for the future to lose his labor.”

              ROBERT BROWNING.

In this myth Odin is the piper, the shrill tones of the flute are
emblematic of the whistling wind, the rats represent the souls of the
dead, which cheerfully follow him, and he even leads the children into
the hollow mountain, which is typical of the grave.

[Sidenote: Bishop Hatto.]

Another German legend, which owes its existence to this belief, is the
story of Bishop Hatto, the miserly prelate, who, annoyed by the clamors
of the poor during a time of famine, had them all burned alive in a
deserted barn, like the rats whom he declared they resembled, rather
than give them some of the precious grain which he had laid up for
himself.

 “‘I’ faith, ’tis an excellent bonfire!’ quoth he,
  ‘And the country is greatly obliged to me
  For ridding it in these times forlorn
  Of rats that only consume the corn.’”

              ROBERT SOUTHEY.

No sooner had this terrible crime been accomplished than the souls of
the poor murdered wretches, assuming the forms of the rats to which he
had likened them, came rushing towards the wicked bishop, whom they
pursued even into the middle of the Rhine, where he took refuge in a
stone tower to escape from their fangs. But the rats swam to the tower,
gnawed their way through the stone walls, and pouring in on all sides
at once, they pounced upon the bishop and devoured him.

 “And in at the windows, and in at the door,
  And through the walls, helter-skelter they pour,
  And down from the ceiling, and up through the floor,
  From the right and the left, from behind and before,
  From within and without, from above and below,
  And all at once to the Bishop they go.
  They have whetted their teeth against the stones;
  And now they pick the Bishop’s bones;
  They gnaw’d the flesh from every limb,
  For they were sent to do judgment on him!”

              ROBERT SOUTHEY.

The red glow of the sunset above the Rat Tower near Bingen on the Rhine
is supposed to be the reflection of the hell fire in which the wicked
bishop is slowly roasting in punishment for this heinous crime.

[Sidenote: Irmin.]

In some parts of Germany Odin was considered identical with the Saxon
god Irmin, whose statue, the Irminsul, near Paderborn, was destroyed
by Charlemagne in 772. Irmin was said to possess a ponderous brazen
chariot, in which he rode across the sky along the path which we know
as the Milky Way, but which the ancient Germans designated as Irmin’s
Way. This chariot, whose rumbling sound occasionally became perceptible
to mortal ears as thunder, never left the sky, where it can still be
seen in the constellation of the Great Bear, which is also known in the
North as Odin’s, or Charles’s Wain.

    “The Wain, who wheels on high
  His circling course, and on Orion waits;
  Sole star that never bathes in the Ocean wave.”

              HOMER’S ILIAD (Derby’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Mimir’s well.]

To obtain the great wisdom for which he is so famous, Odin, in the morn
of time, wandered off to Mimir’s (Memor, memory) spring, “the fountain
of all wit and wisdom,” in whose liquid depths even the future was
clearly mirrored, and besought the old man who guarded it to let him
have a draught. But Mimir, who well knew the value of such a favor (for
his spring was considered the source or headwater of memory), refused
to grant it unless Odin would consent to give one of his eyes in
exchange.

The god did not hesitate, but immediately plucked out one of his eyes,
which Mimir kept in pledge, sinking it deep down into his fountain,
where it shone with mild luster, leaving Odin with but one eye, which
is considered emblematic of the sun.

 “Through our whole lives we strive towards the sun;
  That burning forehead is the eye of Odin.
  His second eye, the moon, shines not so bright;
  It has he placed in pledge in Mimer’s fountain,
  That he may fetch the healing waters thence,
  Each morning, for the strengthening of this eye.”

              OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Howitt’s tr.).

Drinking deeply of Mimir’s fount, Odin gained the knowledge he coveted,
and such was the benefit received that he never regretted the
sacrifice he had made, but as further memorial of that day broke off a
branch of the sacred tree Yggdrasil, which overshadowed the spring, and
fashioned from it his beloved spear Gungnir.

 “A dauntless god
  Drew for drink to its gleam,
  Where he left in endless
  Payment the light of an eye.
  From the world-ash
  Ere Wotan went he broke a bough;
  For a spear the staff
  He split with strength from the stem.”

              DUSK OF THE GODS, WAGNER (Forman’s tr.).

But although Odin had won all knowledge, he was sad and oppressed, for
he had also won an insight into futurity, and had become aware of the
transitory nature of all things, and even of the fate of the gods, who
were doomed to pass away. This knowledge so affected his spirits that
he ever after wore a melancholy and contemplative expression.

To test the value of the wisdom he had thus obtained, Odin soon went to
visit the most learned of all the giants, Vafthrudnir, and entered with
him into a contest of wit, in which the stake was nothing less than the
loser’s head.

 “Odin rose with speed, and went
  To contend in runic lore
  With the wise and crafty Jute.
  To Vafthrudni’s royal hall
  Came the mighty king of spells.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Odin and Vafthrudnir.]

On this occasion Odin had disguised himself as a Wanderer, by Frigga’s
advice, and when asked his name declared it was Gangrad. The contest
of wit immediately began, Vafthrudnir questioning his guest concerning
the horses which carried Day and Night across the sky, the river Ifing
separating Jötun-heim from Asgard, and also about Vigrid, the field
where the last battle was to be fought.

All these questions were minutely answered by Odin, who, when
Vafthrudnir had ended, began the interrogatory in his turn, and
received equally explicit answers about the origin of heaven and earth,
the creation of the gods, their quarrel with the Vanas, the occupations
of the heroes in Valhalla, the offices of the Norns, and the rulers
who were to replace the Æsir when they had all perished with the world
they had created. But, when in conclusion, Odin bent near the giant and
softly inquired what words Allfather whispered to his dead son Balder
as he lay upon his funeral pyre, Vafthrudnir suddenly recognized his
divine visitor. Starting back in dismay he declared that no one but
Odin himself could answer that question, and that it was now quite
plain to him that he had madly striven in a contest of wisdom and wit
with the king of the gods, and fully deserved the penalty of failure,
the loss of his head.

 “Not the man of mortal race
  Knows the words which thou hast spoken
  To thy son in days of yore.
  I hear the coming tread of death;
  He soon shall raze the runic lore,
  And knowledge of the rise of gods,
  From his ill-fated soul who strove
  With Odin’s self the strife of wit,
  Wisest of the wise that breathe:
  Our stake was life, and thou hast won.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

As is the case with so many of the Northern myths, which are often
fragmentary and obscure, this one ends here, and none of the scalds
inform us whether Odin really slew his rival, nor what was the answer
to his last question; but mythologists have hazarded the suggestion
that the word whispered by Odin in Balder’s ear, to console him for his
untimely death, must have been the hopeful term “resurrection.”

[Sidenote: Invention of runes.]

Besides being god of wisdom, Odin was god and inventor of runes, the
earliest alphabet used by Northern nations, which characters, meaning
mystery, were at first used for divination, although in later times
they served for inscriptions and records. Just as wisdom could only be
obtained at the cost of sacrifice, Odin himself relates that he hung
nine days and nights from the sacred tree Yggdrasil, gazing down into
the immeasurable depths of Nifl-heim, plunged in deep thought, ere,
after wounding himself with his spear, he won the knowledge he sought.

 “I know that I hung
  On a wind-rocked tree
  Nine whole nights,
  With a spear wounded,
  And to Odin offered
  Myself to myself;
  On that tree
  Of which no one knows
  From what root it springs.”

              ODIN’S RUNE-SONG (Thorpe’s tr.).

When he had fully mastered this knowledge, Odin cut magic runes upon
his spear Gungnir, upon the teeth of his horse Sleipnir, upon the claws
of the bear, and upon countless other animate and inanimate things.
And because he had thus hung over the abyss for such a long space of
time, he was ever after considered the patron divinity of all who were
condemned to be hanged or who perished by the noose.

After obtaining the gift of wisdom and runes, which gave him power over
all things, Odin also coveted the gift of eloquence and poetry, which
became his in a manner which we shall relate in a subsequent chapter.

[Sidenote: Geirrod and Agnar.]

Odin, as has already been stated, took great interest in the affairs
of mortals, and, we are told, was specially fond of watching King
Hrauding’s handsome little sons, Geirrod and Agnar, when they were
about eight and ten years of age. One day these little lads went
fishing, and when a storm suddenly arose their boat drifted far out
to sea, and was finally stranded upon an island, where dwelt an old
couple, Odin and Frigga, in disguise. The lads were warmly welcomed and
kindly treated, Odin choosing Geirrod as his favorite, and teaching him
the use of arms, while Frigga petted and made much of little Agnar. The
boys tarried on the island with their kind protectors during the long,
cold winter season; but when spring came, the skies were blue, and the
sea calm, they embarked in a boat which Odin provided, and set out for
their native shores. Favored by gentle breezes, they were soon wafted
thither; but as the boat neared the shore Geirrod quickly sprang out
and shoved it far into the water, bidding his brother sail away into
the evil spirit’s power. At that selfsame moment the wind veered, and
Agnar was carried away, while his brother hastened back to his father’s
palace, where he was joyfully received, and where, in due time, he
succeeded his father upon the throne.

Years had passed since Odin and Frigga had spent that winter in human
form on the desert island, when one day, while the royal couple were
seated on the throne Hlidskialf, Odin bade his wife notice how powerful
his pupil had become, and taunted her because her favorite Agnar had
married a giantess and had remained poor and of no importance in the
world. Frigga quietly replied that it was better to be poor than hard
hearted, and accused Geirrod of lack of hospitality--one of the most
heinous crimes in the eyes of a Northerner. She even went so far as to
declare that in spite of all his wealth he often ill treated his guests.

When Odin heard this accusation he declared that he would prove the
falsity of her charge by assuming the guise of a Wanderer and testing
Geirrod’s generosity. Wrapped in his cloud-hued raiment, with slouch
hat and pilgrim staff,--

 “Wanderer calls me the world,
  Far have I carried my feet,
  On the back of the earth
  I have boundlessly been,”--

              WAGNER (Forman’s tr.).

Odin immediately set out by a roundabout way, while Frigga, to outwit
him, sent Geirrod a secret warning to beware of a man in wide mantle
and broad-brimmed hat, as he was a wicked enchanter who would work him
ill.

As soon, therefore, as Odin presented himself before the king’s palace
he was dragged into Geirrod’s presence, where, when he had given his
name as Grimnir, and had refused to tell whence he came or what he
wanted, he was bound between two fires, whose flames played around him
without quite touching him. There he remained eight days and nights, in
obstinate silence, without a morsel of food, and had it not been that
Agnar, who had returned to his brother’s palace and occupied a menial
position there, once secretly brought him a horn of ale, he would have
had nothing to drink.

At the end of the eighth day, while Geirrod, seated upon his throne,
was gloating over his prisoner’s sufferings, Odin began to sing--softly
at first, then louder and louder, until the hall reëchoed with his
triumphant notes--a prophecy that the king, who had so long enjoyed the
god’s favor, would soon perish by his own sword.

 “The fallen by the sword
  Ygg shall now have;
  Thy life is now run out:
  Wroth with thee are the Dîsir:
  Odin thou now shalt see:
  Draw near to me if thou canst.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

As the last notes died away the chains dropped from his hands, the
flames flickered and went out, and Odin stood in the midst of the hall,
no longer in human form, but in all the power and beauty of a god.

On hearing the ominous prophecy Geirrod hastily drew his sword,
intending to slay the insolent singer; but when he beheld the sudden
transformation he started in dismay, tripped, fell upon the sharp
blade, and perished as Odin had just foretold. Turning to Agnar, who,
according to some accounts, was the king’s son and not his brother,
Odin then bade him ascend the throne in reward for his humanity and,
further to repay him for the timely draught of ale, the king of the
gods blessed him with all manner of prosperity.

On another occasion Odin wandered off to earth, and was absent so
long that no one ever expected to see him in Asgard again. His
brothers Vili and Ve, who by some mythologists are considered as other
personifications of himself, then usurped his power, occupied his
throne, and even, we are told, married his wife Frigga.

 “Be thou silent, Frigg!
  Thou art Fiörgyn’s daughter
  And ever hast been fond of men,
  Since Ve and Vili, it is said,
  Thou, Vidrir’s wife, didst
  Both to thy bosom take.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: May-day festivals.]

But upon his return they vanished forever; and in commemoration of
the disappearance of the false Odin, who had ruled seven months and
had brought nothing but unhappiness to the world, and of the return
of the benevolent deity, the heathen Northerners formerly celebrated
yearly festivals and processions, which were long continued as May-day
rejoicings. Until very lately there was always, on that day, a grand
procession in Sweden, known as the May Ride, in which a flower-decked
May king (Odin) pelted with blossoms the fur-enveloped Winter (his
supplanter), until he put him to ignominious flight. In England the
first of May was also a festive occasion, in which May-pole dances, May
queens, Maid Marian, and Jack in the Green played prominent parts.

As personification of heaven, Odin, of course, was the lover and
spouse of the earth, and as it appeared under a threefold aspect, the
Northerners, although a chaste race, depicted him as a polygamist, and
allotted to him several wives. The first among these was Jörd (Erda),
the primitive earth, daughter of Night or of the giantess Fiorgyn.
She bore him his famous son Thor, the god of thunder. The second and
principal wife was Frigga, a personification of the civilized world.
She gave him Balder, the gentle god of spring, Hermod, and, according
to some authorities, Tyr. The third wife was Rinda, a personification
of the hard and frozen earth, who reluctantly yields to his warm
embrace, but finally gives birth to Vali, the emblem of vegetation.
Odin is also said to have married Saga or Laga, the goddess of history
(hence our verb “to say”), and to have daily visited her in the crystal
hall of Sokvabek, beneath a cool, ever-flowing river, to drink its
waters and listen to her songs about olden times and vanished races.

 “Sokvabek hight the fourth dwelling;
  Over it flow the cool billows;
  Glad drink there Odin and Saga
  Every day from golden cups.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

His other wives were Grid, the mother of Vidar; Gunlod, the mother
of Bragi; Skadi; and the nine giantesses who simultaneously bore
Heimdall--all of whom play more or less important parts in the various
myths of the North.

[Sidenote: Historical Odin.]

Besides this ancient Odin, there was a more modern, semi-historical
personage of the same name, to whom all the virtues, powers, and
adventures of his predecessor have been attributed. He was the chief
of the Æsir, inhabitants of Asia Minor, who, sore pressed by the
Romans, and threatened with destruction or slavery, left their native
land about 70 B.C., and migrated into Europe. This Odin is said to
have conquered Russia, Germany, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, leaving
a son on the throne of each conquered country. He also built the town
of Odensö. He was welcomed in Sweden by Gylfi, the king, who made him
associate ruler, and allowed him to found the city of Sigtuna, where
he built a temple and introduced a new system of worship. Tradition
further relates that as his end drew near, this mythical Odin assembled
his followers, publicly cut himself nine times in the breast with his
spear,--a ceremony called “carving Geir odds,”--and told them he was
about to return to his native land Asgard, his old home, where he would
await their coming, to share with him a life of feasting, drinking, and
fighting.

According to another account, Gylfi, having heard of the power of the
Æsir, the inhabitants of Asgard, and wishing to ascertain whether
these reports were true, journeyed off to the south. He soon came to
Odin’s palace, where he was expected, and where he was deluded by the
vision of three divinities, enthroned one above the other, and called
Har, Iafn-har, and Thridi. The gatekeeper, Gangler, answered all his
questions, gave him a long explanation of Northern mythology, which is
recorded in the Younger Edda, and having finished his instructions,
suddenly vanished with the palace amid a deafening noise.

According to other very ancient poems, Odin’s sons, Weldegg, Beldegg,
Sigi, Skiold, Sæming, and Yngvi, became kings of East Saxony, West
Saxony, Franconia, Denmark, Norway, and Sweden, and from them are
descended the Saxons, Hengist and Horsa, and the royal families of the
Northern lands. Still another version relates that Odin and Frigga had
seven sons, who founded the Anglo-Saxon heptarchy. In the course of
time this mysterious king was confounded with the Odin whose worship he
introduced, and all his deeds were attributed to the god.

Odin was worshiped in numerous temples, but especially in the great
fane at Upsala, where the most solemn festivals were held, and where
sacrifices were offered. The victim was generally a horse, but in times
of pressing need human offerings were made, even the king being once
offered up to avert a famine.

 “Upsal’s temple, where the North
  Saw Valhal’s halls fair imag’d here on earth.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

The first toast at every festival here was drunk in his honor, and,
besides the first of May, one day in every week was held sacred to
him, and, from his Saxon name, Woden, was called Woden’s day, whence
the English word “Wednesday” has been derived. It was customary for
the people to assemble at his shrine on festive occasions, to hear the
songs of the scalds, who were rewarded for their minstrelsy by the gift
of golden bracelets or armlets, which curled up at the ends and were
called “Odin’s serpents.”

There are but few remains of ancient Northern art now extant, and
although rude statues of Odin were once quite common they have all
disappeared, as they were made of wood--a perishable substance, which
in the hands of the missionaries and especially of Olaf the Saint, the
Northern iconoclast, was soon reduced to ashes.

 “There in the Temple, carved in wood,
  The image of great Odin stood.”

              SAGA OF KING OLAF (Longfellow)

Odin himself is supposed to have given his people a code of laws
whereby to govern their conduct, in a poem called Hávamal, or the
High Song, which forms part of the Edda. In this lay he taught
the fallibility of man, the necessity for courage, temperance,
independence, and truthfulness, respect for old age, hospitality,
charity, and contentment, and gave instructions for the burial of the
dead.

 “At home let a man be cheerful,
  And toward a guest liberal;
  Of wise conduct he should be,
  Of good memory and ready speech;
  If much knowledge he desires,
  He must often talk on what is good.”

              HÁVAMÁL (Thorpe’s tr.).




CHAPTER III.

FRIGGA.


[Sidenote: The queen of the gods.]

Frigga or Frigg, daughter of Fiorgyn and sister of Jörd, according to
some mythologists, is considered by others as a daughter of Jörd and
Odin, whom she eventually married. This wedding caused such general
rejoicing in Asgard, where the goddess was greatly beloved, that ever
after it was customary to celebrate its anniversary with feast and
song, and the goddess being declared patroness of marriage, her health
was always proposed with that of Odin and Thor at wedding feasts.

Frigga was goddess of the atmosphere, or rather of the clouds, and as
such was represented as wearing either snow-white or dark garments,
according to her somewhat variable moods. She was queen of the gods,
and she alone had the privilege of sitting on the throne Hlidskialf,
beside her august husband. From thence she, too, could look over all
the world and see what was happening, and, according to our ancestors’
declarations, she possessed the knowledge of the future, which,
however, no one could ever prevail upon her to reveal, thus proving
that Northern women could keep a secret inviolate.

 “Of me the gods are sprung;
  And all that is to come I know, but lock
  In my own breast, and have to none reveal’d.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

She was generally represented as a tall, beautiful, and stately woman,
crowned with heron plumes, the symbol of silence or forgetfulness, and
clothed in pure-white robes, secured at the waist by a golden girdle,
from which hung a bunch of keys, the distinctive sign of the Northern
housewife, whose special patroness she was said to be. Although she
often appeared beside her husband, Frigga preferred to remain in her
own palace, called Fensalir, the hall of mists or of the sea, where
she diligently twirled her wheel or distaff, spinning golden thread or
weaving long webs of bright-colored clouds.

In order to perform this work she owned a marvelous jeweled spinning
wheel or distaff, which at night shone brightly in the sky in the shape
of a constellation, known in the North as Frigga’s Spinning Wheel,
while the inhabitants of the South called the same stars Orion’s Girdle.

[Sidenote: The stolen gold.]

To her hall Fensalir the gracious goddess invited all husbands and
wives who had led virtuous lives on earth, so that they might enjoy
each other’s companionship even after death, and never be called upon
to part again.

 “There in the glen, Fensalir stands, the house
  Of Frea, honor’d mother of the gods,
  And shows its lighted windows and the open doors.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Frigga was therefore considered the goddess of conjugal and motherly
love, and was specially worshiped by married lovers and tender parents.
This exalted office did not so entirely absorb all her thoughts,
however, that she had no time for other matters; for we are told that
she was very fond of dress, and whenever she appeared before the
assembled gods her attire was rich and becoming, and her jewels always
chosen with much taste. This love of adornment once led her sadly
astray, for, in her longing to possess some new jewel, she secretly
purloined a piece of gold from a statue representing her husband, which
had just been placed in his temple. The stolen metal was intrusted to
the dwarfs, with instructions to fashion a marvelous necklace for her
use. This jewel, once finished, was so resplendent that it greatly
enhanced her charms and even increased Odin’s love for her. But when
he discovered the theft of the gold he angrily summoned the dwarfs and
bade them reveal who had dared to touch his statue. Unwilling to betray
the queen of the gods, the dwarfs remained obstinately silent, and,
seeing that no information could be elicited from them, Odin commanded
that the statue should be placed above the temple gate, and set to
work to devise runes which should endow it with the power of speech
and enable it to denounce the thief. When Frigga heard these tidings
she trembled with fear, and implored her favorite attendant, Fulla, to
invent some means of protecting her from Allfather’s wrath. Fulla, who
was always ready to serve her mistress, immediately departed, and soon
returned, accompanied by a hideous dwarf, who promised to prevent the
statue from speaking if Frigga would only deign to smile graciously
upon him. This boon having been granted, the dwarf hastened off to the
temple, caused a deep sleep to fall upon the guards, and while they
were thus unconscious, pulled the statue down from its perch and broke
it to pieces, so that it could never betray Frigga’s theft in spite of
all Odin’s efforts to give it the power of speech.

Odin, discovering this sacrilege on the morrow, was very angry indeed;
so angry that he left Asgard and utterly disappeared, carrying away
with him all the blessings which he had been wont to shower upon gods
and men. According to some authorities, his brothers, as we have
already seen, took advantage of his absence to assume his form and
secure possession of his throne and wife; but although they looked
exactly like him they could not restore the lost blessings, and allowed
the ice giants, or Jötuns, to invade the earth and bind it fast in
their cold fetters. These wicked giants also pinched the leaves and
buds till they all shriveled up, stripped the trees bare, shrouded the
earth in a great white coverlet, and veiled it in impenetrable mists.

[Illustration: FRIGGA.]

But at the end of seven weary months the true Odin relented and
returned, and when he saw all the evil that had been done he drove
the usurpers away, forced the frost giants to beat a hasty retreat,
released the earth from her icy bonds, and again showered all his
blessings down upon her, cheering her with the light of his smile.

[Sidenote: Odin outwitted.]

As has already been seen, Odin, although god of wit and wisdom, was
sometimes outwitted by his wife Frigga, who, woman-like, was sure
to obtain her will by some means. On one occasion the divine pair
were seated upon Hlidskialf, gazing with interest upon the Winilers
and Vandals, who were preparing for a battle which was to decide
which people should henceforth have the supremacy. Odin gazed with
satisfaction upon the Vandals, who were loudly praying to him for
victory; but Frigga watched the movements of the Winilers with more
attention, because they had entreated her aid. She therefore turned to
Odin and coaxingly inquired whom he meant to favor on the morrow; he,
wishing to evade her question, declared he would not yet decide, as it
was time for bed, but would give the victory to those upon whom his
eyes first rested in the morning.

This answer was shrewdly calculated, for Odin knew that his bed was
so turned that upon waking he would face the Vandals, and he intended
looking out from thence, instead of waiting until he had mounted his
throne. But, although so cunningly contrived, this plan was entirely
frustrated by Frigga, who, divining his purpose, waited until he was
sound asleep and then noiselessly turned his bed around so that he
should face her favorites instead of his. Then she sent word to the
Winilers to dress their women in armor and send them out in battle
array at dawn, with their long hair carefully combed down over their
cheeks and breasts.

 “Take thou thy women-folk,
  Maidens and wives:
  Over your ankles
  Lace on the white war-hose;
  Over your bosoms
  Link up the hard mail-nets;
  Over your lips
  Plait long tresses with cunning;--
  So war beasts full-bearded
  King Odin shall deem you,
  When off the gray sea-beach
  At sunrise ye greet him.”

              THE LONGBEARDS’ SAGA (Charles Kingsley).

These instructions were carried out with scrupulous exactness by the
Winiler women, and when Odin awoke and sat up in bed early the next
morning, his first conscious glance fell upon their armed host, and
he exclaimed in surprise, “What Longbeards are those?” (In German the
ancient word for long beards was Langobarden, which was the name used
to designate the Lombards.) Frigga, upon hearing this exclamation,
which she had foreseen, immediately cried out in triumph that Allfather
had given them a new name, and was in honor bound to follow the usual
Northern custom and give them also a baptismal gift.

 “‘A name thou hast given them,
  Shames neither thee nor them,
  Well can they wear it.
  Give them the victory,
  First have they greeted thee;
  Give them the victory,
  Yoke-fellow mine!’”

              THE LONGBEARDS’ SAGA (Charles Kingsley).

Odin, seeing he had been so cleverly outwitted, gave them the victory,
and in memory of this auspicious day the Winilers retained the name
given by the king of the gods, who ever after watched over them with
special care, and vouchsafed them many blessings, among others a home
in the sunny South, on the fruitful plains of Lombardy.

[Sidenote: Fulla.]

Frigga had, as her own special attendants, a number of beautiful
maidens, among whom were Fulla (Volla), her sister, according to some
authorities, to whom she intrusted her jewel casket. Fulla always
presided over her mistress’s toilet, was privileged to put on her
golden shoes, attended her everywhere, was her confidante and adviser,
and often told her how best to help the mortals who implored her aid.
Fulla was very beautiful indeed, and had long golden hair, which she
wore flowing loose over her shoulders, restrained only by a golden
circlet or snood. As her hair was emblematic of the golden grain, this
circlet represented the binding of the sheaf. Fulla was also known
as Abundia, or Abundantia, in some parts of Germany, where she was
considered the symbol of the fullness of the earth.

Hlin, Frigga’s second attendant, was the goddess of consolation, sent
out to kiss away the tears of mourners and pour balm into hearts wrung
by grief. She also listened with ever-open ears to the prayers of
mortals, repeated them to her mistress, and advised her at times how
best to answer them and give the desired relief.

[Sidenote: Gna.]

Gna was Frigga’s swift messenger, who, mounted upon her fleet steed
Hofvarpnir (hoof thrower), traveled with marvelous rapidity through
fire and air, over land and sea, and was therefore considered the
personification of the refreshing breeze. Darting thus to and fro,
Gna saw all that was happening upon earth, and told her mistress all
she knew. On one occasion, as she was passing over Hunaland, she saw
King Rerir, a lineal descendant of Odin, sitting mournfully by the
shore, bewailing his childlessness. The queen of heaven, who was also
goddess of childbirth, upon hearing this took an apple (the emblem of
fruitfulness) from her private store, gave it to Gna, and bade her
carry it to the king. With the rapidity of the element she personified,
Gna darted away, passed over Rerir’s head, and dropped her apple into
his lap with a radiant smile.

 “‘What flies up there, so quickly driving past?’
  Her answer from the clouds, as rushing by:
  ‘I fly not, nor do drive, but hurry fast,
  Hoof flinger swift through cloud and mist and sky.’”

              ASGARD AND THE GODS (Wägner-Macdowall).

The king, after pondering for a moment upon the meaning of this sudden
apparition and gift, returned home, his heart beating high with hope,
gave the apple to his wife to eat, and to his intense joy was soon
no longer childless, for his wife bore him a son, Volsung, the great
Northern hero, who became so famous that he gave his name to all his
race.

[Sidenote: Lofn.]

Besides the three above-mentioned attendants, Frigga also had in her
train the mild and gracious maiden Lofn (praise or love), whose duty it
was to remove all obstacles from the path of lovers.

 “My lily tall, from her saddle bearing,
  I led then forth through the temple, faring
  To th’ altar-circle where, priests among,
  Lofn’s vows she took with unfalt’ring tongue.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

Vjofn’s duty was to incline obdurate hearts to love, to maintain peace
and concord among mankind, and to reconcile quarreling husbands and
wives. Syn (truth) guarded the door of Frigga’s palace, refusing to
open it to those who were not allowed to come in. When she had once
shut the door upon a would-be intruder there was no appeal which would
avail to change her decision. She therefore presided over all tribunals
and trials, and whenever a thing was to be vetoed the usual formula was
to declare that Syn was against it.

[Sidenote: Gefjon.]

Gefjon was also one of the maidens in Frigga’s palace, and to her were
intrusted all those who died virgins, whom she received and made happy
forever. According to some mythologists, Gefjon did not always remain
a virgin herself, but married one of the giants, by whom she had four
sons. This same tradition goes on to declare that Odin sent her ahead
of him to visit Gylfi, King of Sweden, and beg for some land which
she might call her own. The king, amused at her request, promised her
as much land as she could plow around in one day and night. Gefjon,
nothing daunted, changed her four sons into oxen, harnessed them to a
plow, and began to cut a furrow so wide and deep that the king and his
courtiers were amazed. But Gefjon continued her work without giving any
signs of fatigue, and when she had plowed all around a large piece of
land forcibly wrenched it away, and made her oxen drag it down into the
sea, where she made it fast and called it Seeland.

 “Gefjun drew from Gylfi,
  Rich in stored up treasure,
  The land she joined to Denmark.
  Four heads and eight eyes bearing,
  While hot sweat trickled down them,
  The oxen dragged the reft mass
  That formed this winsome island.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

As for the hollow she left behind her, it was quickly filled with water
and formed a lake, at first called Logrum (the sea), but now known
as Mälar, whose every indentation corresponds with the headlands of
Seeland. Gefjon then married Skiold, one of Odin’s sons, and became the
ancestress of the royal Danish race of Skioldungs, dwelling in the city
of Hleidra or Lethra, which she founded, and which became the principal
place of sacrifice for the heathen Danes.

[Sidenote: Eira.]

Eira, also Frigga’s attendant, was considered a most skillful
physician. She gathered simples all over the earth to cure both wounds
and diseases, and it was her province to teach her science to women,
who were the only ones to practice medicine among the ancient nations
of the North.

 “Gaping wounds are bound by Eyra.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Vara heard all oaths and punished perjurers, while she rewarded those
who faithfully kept their word. Then there were also Vör (faith), who
knew all that was to occur throughout the world, and Snotra, goddess of
virtue, who had mastered every kind of study.

With such a band of followers it is no wonder that Frigga was
considered an influential goddess; but in spite of the prominent place
she occupied in Northern religion, she had no special temple or shrine,
and was but little worshiped except in company with Odin.

[Sidenote: Holda.]

While Frigga was not known by this name in southern Germany, there
were other goddesses worshiped there, whose attributes were so exactly
like hers, that they were evidently the same, although they bore very
different names in the various provinces. Among them was the fair
goddess Holda (Hulda or Frau Holle) who graciously dispensed many rich
gifts, and as she presided over the weather, the people were wont to
declare when the snowflakes fell that Frau Holle was shaking her bed,
and when it rained, that she was washing her clothes, often pointing
to the white clouds as her linen which she had put out to bleach.
When long gray strips of clouds drifted across the sky they said she
was weaving, for she too was supposed to be a very diligent weaver,
spinner, and housekeeper. It is said she gave flax to mankind and
taught them how to use it, and in Tyrol the following story is told
about the way in which she bestowed this invaluable gift:

[Sidenote: Discovery of flax.]

There was once a peasant who daily left his wife and children down
in the valley to take his sheep up the mountain to pasture; and as
he watched his flock graze on the mountain side, he often had the
opportunity to use his cross-bow and bring down a chamois, whose flesh
furnished his larder with food for many a day.

While pursuing some fine game one day he saw it disappear behind a
bowlder, and when he came to the spot, he was amazed to see a doorway
in the neighboring glacier, for in the excitement of the pursuit he
had climbed higher and higher until he was now on top of the mountain,
where glittered the everlasting snow.

The shepherd boldly passed through the open door, and soon found
himself in a wonderful jeweled and stalactite-hung cave, in the center
of which stood a beautiful woman, clad in silvery robes, and attended
by a host of lovely maidens crowned with Alpine roses. In his surprise,
the shepherd sank to his knees, and as in a dream heard the queenly
central figure bid him choose anything he saw to carry away with him.
Although dazzled by the glow of the precious stones around him, the
shepherd’s eyes constantly reverted to a little nosegay of blue flowers
which the gracious apparition held in her hand, and he now timidly
proffered a request that it might become his. Smiling with pleasure,
Holda, for it was she, gave it to him, telling him he had chosen wisely
and would live as long as the flowers did not droop and fade. Then
giving the shepherd a measure of seed which she told him to sow in his
field, the goddess bade him begone; and as the thunder pealed and the
earth shook, the poor man found himself out upon the mountain side once
more, and slowly wended his way home to tell his adventure to his wife
and show her the lovely blue flowers and the measure of seed.

The woman reproached her husband bitterly for not having brought some
of the precious stones which he so glowingly described, instead of the
blossoms and seed; nevertheless the man sowed the latter, and often
lingered near the field at nightfall to see his new crop grow, for to
his surprise the measure had supplied seed enough for several acres.

Soon the little green shoots began to appear, and one moonlight night,
while the peasant was gazing upon them, wondering what kind of grain
they would produce, he saw a mistlike form hover above the field, with
hands outstretched as if in blessing. At last the field blossomed, and
countless little blue flowers opened their calyxes to the golden sun.
When the flowers had withered and the seed was ripe, Holda came once
more to teach the peasant and his wife how to harvest the flax stalks
and spin, weave, and bleach the linen they produced. Of course all the
people of the neighborhood were anxious to purchase both linen and
flaxseed, and the peasant and his wife soon grew very rich indeed, for
while he plowed, sowed, and harvested, she spun, wove, and bleached
her linen. When the man had lived to a good old age and seen his
grandchildren and great grandchildren grow up around him, he noticed
that his carefully treasured bouquet, whose flowers had remained fresh
for many a year, had wilted and died.

Knowing that his time had come and that he too must soon die, the
peasant climbed the mountain once more, came to the glacier, and found
the doorway which he had long vainly sought. He vanished within, and
was never seen or heard of again, for the legend states that the
goddess took him under her care, and bade him live in her cave, where
his every wish was gratified.

[Sidenote: Tannhäuser.]

According to a mediæval tradition, Holda dwelt in a cave in the
Hörselberg, in Thuringia, where she was known as Frau Venus, and
was considered as an enchantress who lured mortals into her realm,
where she detained them forever, steeping their senses in all manner
of sensual pleasures. The most famous of her victims is doubtless
Tannhäuser, who, anxious to save his soul, escaped from her power and
hastened to Rome to confess his sins and seek absolution. But the
pope, hearing that he had been in the company of one of the heathen
goddesses, whom the priests taught were nothing but demons, declared
that the knight could no more hope for pardon than to see his staff
bear buds and bloom.

 “Hast thou within the nets of Satan lain?
  Hast thou thy soul to her perdition pledged?
  Hast thou thy lip to Hell’s Enchantress lent,
  To drain damnation from her reeking cup?
  Then know that sooner from the withered staff
  That in my hand I hold green leaves shall spring,
  Than from the brand in hell-fire scorched rebloom
  The blossoms of salvation.”

              TANNHÄUSER (Owen Meredith).

Crushed with grief at this sentence, Tannhäuser fled, and finding
no rest, returned to the Hörselberg, where he reëntered the cave in
spite of the entreaties of the German mentor, the faithful Eckhardt.
He had no sooner disappeared, however, than the pope’s messengers
arrived, proclaiming that he was pardoned, for the withered staff had
miraculously bloomed, proving to all that there was no sin too heinous
to be pardoned, providing repentance were sincere.

[Illustration: EASTRE or OSTARA.]

 “Dashed to the hip with travel, dewed with haste,
  A flying post, and in his hand he bore
  A withered staff o’erflourished with green leaves;
  Who,--followed by a crowd of youth and eld,
  That sang to stun with sound the lark in heaven,
  ‘A miracle! a miracle from Rome!
  Glory to God that makes the bare bough green!’--
  Sprang in the midst, and, hot for answer, asked
  News of the Knight Tannhäuser.”

              TANNHÄUSER (Owen Meredith).

This same Holda was also considered the owner of a magic fountain
called Quickborn, which rivaled the famed fountain of youth, and of a
chariot in which she rode from place to place, inspecting her domain.
This wagon having once suffered damage, the goddess bade a wheelwright
repair it, and when he had finished told him to keep the chips as his
pay. The man, indignant at such a meager reward, kept only a very few;
but to his surprise found them on the morrow changed to solid gold.

      “Fricka, thy wife--
  This way she reins her harness of rams.
  Hey! how she whirls
  The golden whip;
  The luckless beasts
  Unboundedly bleat;
  Her wheels wildly she rattles;
  Wrath is lit in her look.”

              WAGNER (Forman’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Eástre, the goddess of spring.]

The Saxon goddess Eástre, or Ostara, goddess of spring, whose name has
survived in the English word Easter, is also identical with Frigga,
for she too is considered goddess of the earth, or rather of Nature’s
resurrection after the long death of winter. This gracious goddess was
so dearly loved by the old Teutons, that even after Christianity had
been introduced they still retained a pleasant recollection of her,
utterly refused to have her degraded to the rank of a demon, like many
of their other divinities, and transferred her name to their great
Christian feast. It had long been customary to celebrate this day by
the exchange of presents of colored eggs, for the egg is the type of
the beginning of life; so the early Christians continued to observe
this rule, declaring, however, that the egg is also symbolical of the
resurrection. In various parts of Germany, stone altars can still be
seen, which are known as Easter-stones, because they were dedicated to
the fair goddess Ostara. They were crowned with flowers by the young
people, who danced gaily around them by the light of great bonfires,--a
species of popular games kept up until the middle of the present
century, in spite of the priests’ denunciations and of the repeatedly
published edicts against them.

[Sidenote: Bertha, the White Lady.]

In other parts of Germany, Frigga, Holda, or Ostara is known by
the name of Brechta, Bertha, or the White Lady. She is best known
under this title in Thuringia, where she was supposed to dwell in a
hollow mountain, keeping watch over the Heimchen, the souls of unborn
children, and of those who died unbaptized. Here Bertha watched over
agriculture, caring for the plants, which her infant troop watered
carefully, for each babe was supposed to carry a little jar for that
express purpose. As long as the goddess was duly respected and her
retreat unmolested, she remained where she was; but tradition relates
that she once left the country with her infant train dragging her plow,
and settled elsewhere to continue her kind ministrations. Bertha is the
legendary ancestress of several noble families, and she is supposed to
be the same as the industrious queen of the same name, the mythical
mother of Charlemagne, whose era has become proverbial, for in speaking
of the golden age in France and Germany it is customary to say, “in the
days when Bertha spun.”

As this Bertha is supposed to have developed a very large and flat
foot, from continually pressing the treadle of her wheel, she is often
represented in mediæval art as a woman with a splay foot, and hence
known as _la reine pédauque_.

As ancestress of the imperial house of Germany, the White Lady is
supposed to appear in the palace before a death or misfortune in the
family, and this superstition is still so rife in Germany, that the
newspapers in 1884 contained the official report of a sentinel, who
declared that he had seen her flit past him in one of the palace
corridors.

As Bertha was so renowned for her spinning, she naturally was regarded
as the special patroness of that branch of female industry, and was
said to flit through the streets of every village, at nightfall, during
the twelve nights between Christmas and January 6th, peering into every
window to ascertain whether the work were all done.

The maidens whose work had all been carefully performed were rewarded
by a present of one of her own golden threads or a distaff full of
extra-fine flax; but wherever a careless spinner was found, her wheel
was broken, her flax soiled, and if she had failed to honor the goddess
by eating plenty of the cakes baked at that epoch of the year, she was
cruelly punished.

In Mecklenburg, this same goddess is known as Frau Gode, or Wode, the
female form of Wuotan or Odin, and her appearance is always considered
the harbinger of great prosperity. She is also supposed to be a great
huntress, and to lead the Wild Hunt, mounted upon a white horse, her
attendants being changed into hounds and all manner of wild beasts.

In Holland she was called Vrou-elde, and from her the Milky Way is
known by the Dutch as Vrou-elden-straat; while in parts of northern
Germany she was called Nerthus (Mother Earth). Her sacred car was kept
on an island, presumably Rügen, where the priests guarded it carefully
until she appeared to take a yearly journey throughout her realm and
bless the land. The goddess then sat in this car, which was drawn by
two cows, her face completely hidden by a thick veil, respectfully
escorted by her priests. The people seeing her pass did her homage by
ceasing all warfare, laid aside their weapons, donned festive attire,
and began no quarrel until the goddess had again retired to her
sanctuary. Then both car and goddess were bathed in a secret lake (the
Schwartze See in Rügen), which swallowed up the slaves who had assisted
at the bathing, and once more the priests resumed their watch over the
sanctuary and grove of Nerthus or Hlodyn, to await her next apparition.

In Scandinavia, this goddess was also known as Huldra, and boasted of
a train of attendant wood nymphs, who sometimes sought the society of
mortals, to enjoy a dance upon the village green. They could always
be detected, however, by the tip of a cow’s tail which trailed from
beneath their long snow-white garments. These Huldra folk were the
special protectors of the herds of cattle on the mountain sides, and
were said to surprise the lonely traveler, at times, by the marvelous
beauty of the melodies they sang to beguile their labors.




CHAPTER IV.

THOR.


[Sidenote: Thor’s foster parents.]

According to some mythologists, Thor, or Donar, is the son of Jörd
(Erda), and of Odin, but others state that his mother was Frigga, queen
of the gods. This child was very remarkable for his great size and
strength, and very soon after his birth amazed the assembled gods by
playfully lifting and throwing about ten loads of bear skins. Although
generally good tempered, Thor occasionally flew into a terrible rage,
and as he was very dangerous under these circumstances, his mother,
unable to control him, sent him away from home and intrusted him to
the care of Vingnir (the winged), and of Hlora (heat). These foster
parents, who are also considered as the personification of sheet
lightning, soon managed to control their troublesome charge, and
brought him up so wisely, that all the gods were duly grateful for
their kind offices. Thor himself, recognizing all he owed them, assumed
the names of Vingthor and Hlorridi, by which he is also known.

                      “Cry on, Vingi-Thor,
  With the dancing of the ring-mail and the smitten shields of war.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

Having attained his full growth and the age of reason, Thor was
admitted in Asgard among the other gods, where he occupied one of the
twelve seats in the great judgment hall. He was also given the realm
of Thrud-vang or Thrud-heim, where he built a wonderful palace called
Bilskirnir (lightning), the most spacious in all Asgard. It contained
five hundred and forty halls for the accommodation of the thralls,
who after death were welcomed to his home, where they were treated as
well as their masters in Valhalla, for Thor was the patron god of the
peasants and lower classes.

 “Five hundred halls
  And forty more,
  Methinketh, hath
  Bowed Bilskirnir.
  Of houses roofed
  There’s none I know
  My son’s surpassing.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Percy’s tr.).

As he was god of thunder, Thor alone was never allowed to pass over the
wonderful bridge Bifröst, lest he should set it aflame by the heat of
his presence; and when he daily wished to join his fellow gods by the
Urdar fountain, under the shade of the sacred tree Yggdrasil, he was
forced to make his way thither on foot, wading through the rivers Kormt
and Ormt, and the two streams Kerlaug, to the trysting place.

Thor, who was honored as the highest god in Norway, came second in
the trilogy of all the other countries, and was called “old Thor,”
because he is supposed by some mythologists to have belonged to an
older dynasty of gods, and not on account of his actual age, for he was
represented and described as a man in his prime, tall and well formed,
with muscular limbs and bristling red hair and beard, from which, in
moments of anger, the sparks fairly flew.

 “First, Thor with the bent brow,
    In red beard muttering low,
    Darting fierce lightnings from eyeballs that glow,
  Comes, while each chariot wheel
  Echoes in thunder peal,
    As his dread hammer shock
    Makes Earth and Heaven rock,
  Clouds rifting above, while Earth quakes below.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The Northern races further adorned him with a crown, on each point of
which was either a glittering star, or a steadily burning flame, so
that his head was ever surrounded by a kind of halo of fire, his own
element.

[Sidenote: Thor’s hammer.]

Thor was the proud possessor of a magic hammer called Miölnir (the
crusher) which he hurled at his enemies, the frost giants, with
destructive power, and which possessed the wonderful property of always
returning to his hand, however far away he might hurl it.

 “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,
  Miölnir the mighty;
  Giants and sorcerers
  Cannot withstand it!”

              SAGA OF KING OLAF (Longfellow).

As this huge hammer, the emblem of the thunderbolts, was generally red
hot, the god had an iron gauntlet called Iarn-greiper, which enabled
him to grasp it firmly and hurl it very far, his strength, which was
already remarkable, being always doubled when he wore his magic belt
called Megin-giörd.

 “This is my girdle:
  Whenever I brace it,
  Strength is redoubled!”

              SAGA OF KING OLAF (Longfellow).

Thor’s hammer was considered so very sacred by the ancient Northern
people, that they were wont to make the sign of the hammer, as the
Christians later taught them to make the sign of the cross, to ward
off all evil influences, and to secure many blessings. The same sign
was also made over the newly born infant when water was poured over
its head and a name given it. The hammer was used to drive in boundary
stakes, which it was considered sacrilegious to remove, to hallow
the threshold of a new house, to solemnize a marriage, and, lastly,
to consecrate the funeral pyre upon which the bodies of heroes were
burned, together with their weapons and steeds, and, in some cases,
with their wives and dependents.

In Sweden, Thor, like Odin, was supposed to wear a broad-brimmed hat,
and hence the storm clouds in that country are known as Thor’s hat, a
name also given to one of the principal mountains in Norway. The rumble
and roar of the thunder were called the roll of his chariot, for he
alone among the gods never rode on horseback, but walked, or drove
in a brazen chariot drawn by two goats, Tanngniostr (tooth cracker),
and Tanngrisnr (tooth gnasher), from whose teeth and hoofs the sparks
constantly flew.

 “Thou camest near the next, O warrior Thor!
  Shouldering thy hammer, in thy chariot drawn,
  Swaying the long-hair’d goats with silver’d rein.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

When the god thus drove about from place to place, he was called
Aku-thor, or Thor the charioteer, and in southern Germany the people,
fancying a brazen chariot alone inadequate to furnish all the noise
they heard, declared it was loaded with copper kettles, which rattled
and clashed, and therefore often called him, with disrespectful
familiarity, the kettle vender.

[Sidenote: Thor’s family.]

Thor was twice married; first to the giantess Iarnsaxa (iron stone),
who bore him two sons, Magni (strength) and Modi (courage), both
destined to survive their father and twilight of the gods, and rule
over the new world which was to rise like a phenix from the ashes of
the first. His second wife was Sif, the golden-haired, who also bore
him two children, Lorride, and a daughter named Thrud, a young giantess
renowned for her size and strength. By the well-known affinity of
contrast, Thrud was wooed by the dwarf Alvis, whom she rather favored;
and one evening, when this suitor, who, being a dwarf, could not face
the light of day, presented himself in Asgard to sue for her hand,
the assembled gods did not refuse their consent. They had scarcely
signified their approbation, however, when Thor, who had been absent,
suddenly appeared, and casting a glance of contempt upon the puny
lover, declared he would have to prove that his knowledge atoned for
his small stature, before he could win his bride.

To test Alvis’s mental powers, Thor then questioned him in the language
of the gods, Vanas, elves, and dwarfs, artfully prolonging his
examination until sunrise, when the first beam of light, falling upon
the unhappy dwarf, petrified him. There he stood, an enduring example
of the gods’ power, and served as a warning to all other dwarfs who
would fain have tested it.

 “Ne’er in human bosom
  Have I found so many
  Words of the old time.
  Thee with subtlest cunning
  Have I yet befooled.
  Above ground standeth thou, dwarf,
  By day art overtaken,
  Bright sunshine fills the hall.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Howitt’s version).

[Sidenote: Sif, the golden-haired.]

Sif, Thor’s wife, was very vain of a magnificent head of long golden
hair which covered her from head to foot like a brilliant veil; and
as she too was a symbol of the earth, her hair was said to represent
the long grass, or the golden grain covering the Northern harvest
fields. Thor was very proud of his wife’s beautiful hair; imagine his
dismay, therefore, upon waking one morning, to find her all shorn,
and as bald and denuded of ornament as the earth when the grain has
all been garnered, and nothing but the stubble remains! In his anger,
Thor sprang to his feet, vowing he would punish the perpetrator of
this outrage, whom he immediately and rightly conjectured to be Loki,
the arch plotter, ever on the lookout for some evil deed to perform.
Seizing his hammer, Thor soon overtook Loki in spite of his attempting
to evade him by changing form, caught him by the throat, and almost
strangled him ere he yielded to his imploring signs, and slightly
loosed his powerful grasp. As soon as Loki could catch his breath,
he implored forgiveness, but all his entreaties were vain, until he
promised to procure for Sif a new head of hair, as beautiful as the
first, and as luxuriant in growth.

 “And thence for Sif new tresses I’ll bring
    Of gold, ere the daylight’s gone,
  So that she shall liken a field in spring,
    With its yellow-flowered garment on.”

              THE DWARFS, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Thor, hearing this, consented to let the traitor go; so Loki rapidly
crept down into the bowels of the earth, where Svart-alfa-heim was
situated, to beg the dwarf Dvalin to fashion not only the precious
hair, but a present for Odin and Frey, whose anger he wished to disarm.

The dwarf soon made the spear Gungnir, which never failed in its aim,
and the ship Skidbladnir, which, always wafted by favorable winds,
could sail through the air as well as on the water, and was so elastic,
that although it could contain the gods and all their steeds, it could
be folded up into the very smallest compass and thrust in one’s pocket.
Lastly, he spun the very finest golden thread, from which he fashioned
the required hair for Sif, declaring that as soon as it touched her
head it would grow fast there and become alive.

 “Though they now seem dead, let them touch but her head,
    Each hair shall the life-moisture fill;
  Nor shall malice nor spell henceforward prevail
    Sif’s tresses to work aught of ill.”

              THE DWARFS, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Loki was so pleased with these proofs of the dwarfs’ skill that he
declared the son of Ivald was the most clever of smiths--words which
were overheard by Brock, another dwarf, who exclaimed that he was sure
his brother Sindri could produce three objects which would surpass
those which Loki held, not only in intrinsic value, but also in magical
properties. Loki immediately challenged the dwarf to show his skill,
wagering his head against Brock’s on the result of the undertaking.

Sindri, apprised of the wager, accepted Brock’s offer to blow the
bellows, warning him, however, that he must work persistently if he
wished to succeed; then he threw some gold in the fire, and went out
to bespeak the favor of the hidden powers. During his absence Brock
diligently plied the bellows, while Loki, hoping to make him fail,
changed himself into a gadfly and cruelly stung his hand. In spite
of the pain, the dwarf did not let go, and when Sindri returned, he
drew out of the fire an enormous wild boar, called Gullin-bursti, on
account of its golden bristles, which had the power of radiating light
as he flitted across the sky, for he could travel through the air with
marvelous velocity.

 “And now, strange to tell, from the roaring fire
    Came the golden-haired Gullinbörst,
  To serve as a charger the sun-god Frey,
    Sure, of all wild boars this the first.”

              THE DWARFS, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

This first piece of work successfully completed, Sindri flung some more
gold on the fire and bade his brother blow, ere he again went out to
secure magic assistance. This time Loki, still disguised as a gadfly,
stung the dwarf on his cheek; but in spite of the pain Brock worked on,
and when Sindri returned, he triumphantly drew out of the flames the
magic ring Draupnir, the emblem of fertility, from which eight similar
rings dropped every ninth night.

 “They worked it and turned it with wondrous skill,
    Till they gave it the virtue rare,
  That each thrice third night from its rim there fell
    Eight rings, as their parent fair.”

              THE DWARFS, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Now a lump of iron was cast in the flames, and with a new caution not
to forfeit their success by inattention, Sindri passed out, leaving
Brock to ply the bellows and wrestle with the gadfly, which this time
stung him above the eye until the blood began to flow in such a stream,
that it prevented his seeing what he was doing. Hastily raising his
hand for a second, Brock dashed aside the stream of blood; but short as
was the interruption, Sindri uttered an exclamation of disappointment
when he drew his work out of the fire, for the hammer he had fashioned
had too short a handle.

 “Then the dwarf raised his hand to his brow for the smart,
    Ere the iron well out was beat,
  And they found that the haft by an inch was too short,
    But to alter it then ’twas too late.”

              THE DWARFS, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Notwithstanding this mishap, Brock was so sure of winning the wager
that he did not hesitate to present himself before the gods in Asgard,
gave Odin the ring Draupnir, Frey the boar Gullin-bursti, and Thor the
hammer Miölnir, whose power none could resist.

Loki immediately gave the spear Gungnir to Odin, the ship Skidbladnir
to Frey, and the golden hair to Thor; but although the latter
immediately grew upon Sif’s head and was unanimously declared more
beautiful than her own locks had ever been, the gods decreed that Brock
had won the wager, for the hammer Miölnir, in Thor’s hands, would prove
invaluable against the frost giants on the last day.

          “And at their head came Thor,
  Shouldering his hammer, which the giants know.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Wishing to save his head, Loki fled, but was soon overtaken by Thor,
who brought him back and handed him over to Brock, telling him,
however, that although Loki’s head was rightfully his, he must not
touch his neck. Thus hindered from obtaining full vengeance, the
dwarf tried to sew Loki’s lips together, but, as his sword would not
pierce them, he was obliged to borrow his brother’s awl. However, Loki,
after enduring the gods’ gibes in silence for a little while, managed
to cut the string and was soon as loquacious as ever.

[Illustration: THOR.]

In spite of his redoubtable hammer, Thor was never considered as the
injurious god of the storm, who destroyed peaceful homesteads and
ruined the harvest by sudden hail storms and cloud bursts, for the
Northerners fancied he hurled it only against ice giants and rocky
walls, reducing the latter to powder to fertilize the earth and make it
yield plentiful fruit to the tillers of the soil.

In Germany, where the eastern storms are always cold and blighting,
while the western bring warm rains and mild weather, Thor was supposed
to journey always from west to east, to wage war against the evil
spirits which would fain have enveloped the country in impenetrable
veils of mist and have bound it in icy fetters.

[Sidenote: Journey to Jötun-heim.]

As the giants from Jötun-heim were continually sending out cold blasts
of wind to nip the tender buds and hinder the growth of the flowers,
Thor once made up his mind to go and force them to better behavior.
Accompanied by Loki he therefore set out in his chariot. After riding
for a whole day the gods came at nightfall to the confines of the
giant-world, where, seeing a peasant’s hut, they resolved to spend the
night and refresh themselves.

Their host was hospitable but very poor, and Thor seeing that he would
scarcely be able to supply the necessary food to satisfy his by no
means small appetite, slew both his goats, which he cooked and began to
eat, inviting his host and family to partake freely of the food thus
provided, but cautioning them to throw all the bones, without breaking
them, into the skins spread out on the floor.

The peasant and his family ate heartily, but a youth called Thialfi,
encouraged by Loki, ventured to break one of the bones and suck out
the marrow, thinking his disobedience would never be detected. On the
morrow, however, Thor, ready to depart, struck the goat skins with
his hammer Miölnir, and immediately the goats sprang up as lively as
before, except that one seemed somewhat lame. Perceiving in a second
that his commands had been disregarded, Thor would have slain the whole
family in his wrath. The culprit acknowledged his fault, however, and
the peasant offered to compensate for the loss by giving the irate god
not only his son Thialfi, but also his daughter Roskva, to serve him
forever.

Charging the man to take good care of the goats, which he left there
until he should return, and bidding the young peasants accompany him,
Thor now set out on foot with Loki, and after walking all day found
himself at nightfall in a bleak and barren country, which was enveloped
in an almost impenetrable gray mist. After seeking for some time,
Thor saw through the fog the uncertain outline of what looked like
a peculiar-shaped house. Its open portal was so wide and high that
it seemed to take up all one side of the house. Entering and finding
neither fire nor light, Thor and his companions flung themselves
wearily down on the floor to sleep, but were soon disturbed by a
peculiar noise, and a prolonged trembling of the ground beneath them.
Fearing lest the main roof should fall during this earthquake, Thor
and his companions took refuge in a wing of the building, where they
soon fell sound asleep. At dawn, the god and his companions passed
out, but they had not gone very far ere they saw the recumbent form
of a sleeping giant, and perceived that the peculiar sounds which
had disturbed their rest were produced by his snores. At that moment
the giant awoke, arose, stretched himself, looked about him for his
missing property, and a second later he picked up the object which
Thor and his companions had mistaken in the darkness for a house. They
then perceived with amazement that the wing in which they had all
slept was the separate place in a mitten for the giant’s great thumb!
Learning that Thor and his companions were on their way to Utgard,
as the giants’ realm was also called, Skrymir, the giant, proposed to
be their guide; and after walking with them all day, he offered them
the provisions in his wallet ere he dropped asleep. But, in spite of
strenuous efforts, neither Thor nor his companions could unfasten the
knots which Skrymir had tied.

 “Skrymir’s thongs
  Seemed to thee hard,
  When at the food thou couldst not get,
  When, in full health, of hunger dying.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Utgard-loki.]

Angry because of his snoring, which kept them awake, Thor thrice
dealt him fearful blows with his hammer. These strokes, instead of
annihilating the monster, merely evoked sleepy comments to the effect
that a leaf, a bit of bark, or a twig from a bird’s nest overhead had
fallen upon his face. Early on the morrow, Skrymir left Thor and his
companions, pointing out the shortest road to Utgard-loki’s castle,
which was built of great ice blocks, with huge glittering icicles
as pillars. The gods, slipping between the bars of the great gate,
presented themselves boldly before the king of the giants, Utgard-loki,
who, recognizing them, immediately pretended to be greatly surprised
at their small size, and expressed a wish to see for himself what they
could do, as he had often heard their prowess vaunted.

Loki, who had fasted longer than he wished, immediately declared he
was ready to eat for a wager with any one. So the king ordered a great
wooden trough full of meat to be brought into the hall, and placing
Loki at one end and his cook Logi at the other, he bade them see which
would win. Although Loki did wonders, and soon reached the middle of
the trough, he still found himself beaten, for whereas he had picked
the bones clean, his opponent had devoured both them and the trough.

Smiling contemptuously, Utgard-loki said that it was evident they
could not do much in the eating line, and so nettled Thor thereby,
that he declared if Loki could not eat more than the voracious cook,
he felt confident he could drain the biggest vessel in the house, such
was his unquenchable thirst. Immediately a horn was brought in, and,
Utgard-loki declaring that good drinkers emptied it at one draught,
moderately thirsty persons at two, and small drinkers at three, Thor
applied his lips to the rim. But, although he drank so deep that he
thought he would burst, the liquid still came almost up to the rim
when he raised his head. A second and third attempt to empty this
horn proved equally unsuccessful. Thialfi then offered to run a race,
and a young fellow named Hugi soon outstripped him, although he made
remarkably good time.

Thor next proposed to show his strength by lifting great weights, but
when challenged to pick up the giant’s cat, he tugged and strained,
only to succeed in raising one paw from the floor, although he had
taken the precaution to enhance his strength as much as possible by
tightening his belt Megin-giörd.

 “Strong is great Thor, no doubt, when Megingarder
  He braces tightly o’er his rock-firm loins.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

An attempt on his part to wrestle with Utgard-loki’s old nurse Elli,
the only opponent deemed worthy of such a puny fellow, ended equally
disastrously, and the gods, acknowledging they were beaten, were
hospitably entertained. On the morrow they were escorted to the
confines of Utgard, where the giant politely informed them that he
hoped they would never call upon him again, as he had been forced to
employ magic against them. He then went on to explain that he was the
giant Skrymir, and that had he not taken the precaution to interpose a
mountain between his head and Thor’s blows, he would have been slain,
as deep clefts in the mountain side testified to the god’s strength.
Next he informed them that Loki’s opponent was Logi (wild fire); that
Thialfi had run a race with Hugi (thought), than which no swifter
runner exists; that Thor’s drinking horn was connected with the ocean,
where his deep draughts had produced a perceptible ebb; that the cat
was in reality the terrible Midgard snake encircling the world, which
Thor had nearly pulled out of the sea; and that Elli, his nurse, was
old age, whom none can resist. Having finished these explanations and
cautioned them never to return or he would defend himself by similar
delusions, Utgard-loki vanished, and although Thor angrily brandished
his hammer to destroy his castle, such a mist enveloped it that it
could not be seen, and the thunder god was obliged to return to
Thrud-vang without having accomplished his purpose, the extermination
of the race of giants.

      “The strong-armed Thor
  Full oft against giant Jötun-heim did wend,
  But spite his belt celestial, spite his gauntlets,
  Utgard-Loki still his throne retains;
  Evil, itself a force, to force yields never.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Thor and Hrungnir.]

As Odin was once dashing through the air on his eight-footed steed
Sleipnir, he attracted the attention of the giant Hrungnir, who
proposed a race, declaring he was sure his own steed Gullfaxi could
rival Sleipnir in speed. In the heat of the race, Hrungnir did not
even notice in what direction they were going, and, in the vain hope
of overtaking Odin, urged his steed on to the very gates of Valhalla.
Discovering where he was, the giant then grew pale with fear, for he
knew he had jeopardized his life by venturing into the stronghold of
the gods, his hereditary foes.

The Æsir, however, were too honorable to take even an enemy at such a
disadvantage, and, instead of doing him any harm, asked him into their
banqueting halls, where he proceeded to indulge in liberal potations
of the heavenly mead set before him. He soon grew so excited that he
began to boast of his power, declaring he would come some day and take
possession of Asgard, which he would destroy, as well as all the gods,
excepting only Freya and Sif, upon whom he gazed with an admiring,
drunken leer.

The gods, knowing he was not responsible, let him talk unmolested; but
Thor, coming home just then from one of his journeys, and hearing him
propose to carry away his beloved Sif, flew into a terrible rage. He
furiously brandished his hammer, intending to annihilate the boaster.
This the gods would not permit, however, and they quickly threw
themselves between the irate Thunderer and their guest, imploring the
former to respect the sacred rights of hospitality, and not desecrate
their peace-stead by shedding blood.

Thor at last consented to bridle his wrath, providing the giant
Hrungnir would appoint a time and place for a holmgang, as a Northern
duel was generally called. Thus challenged, Hrungnir promised to meet
Thor at Griottunagard, the confines of his realm, three days later, and
departed somewhat sobered by the fright he had experienced. When his
fellow giants heard how rash he had been, they chided him sorely; but
hearing he was to have the privilege of being accompanied by a squire,
whom Thialfi would engage in fight, they proceeded to construct a
creature of clay, nine miles long, and proportionately wide, whom they
called Mokerkialfi (mist wader). As they could find no human heart big
enough to put in this monster’s breast, they secured that of a mare,
which, however, kept fluttering and quivering with apprehension. The
day of the duel arrived. Hrungnir and his squire were on the ground
awaiting the arrival of their respective opponents. The giant had not
only a flint heart and skull, but also a shield and club of the same
substance, and therefore deemed himself well-nigh invincible. But when
he heard a terrible noise, and Thialfi came running up to announce his
master’s coming, he gladly followed the herald’s advice and stood upon
his shield, lest the thunder god should come up from the ground and
attack him unprotected.

A moment later, however, he saw his mistake, for, while Thialfi
attacked Mokerkialfi with a spade, Thor came rushing up and flung his
hammer full at his opponent’s head. Hrungnir, to ward off the blow,
interposed his stone club, which was shivered into pieces, that flew
all over the earth, supplying all the flint stones to be found, and one
fragment sank deep in Thor’s forehead. As the god dropped fainting to
the ground, his hammer crashed against the head of Hrungnir, who fell
down dead beside him, in such a position that one of his ponderous legs
was thrown over the recumbent god.

 “Thou now remindest me
  How I with Hrungnir fought,
  That stout-hearted Jötun,
  Whose head was all of stone;
  Yet I made him fall
  And sink before me.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Thialfi, who, in the mean while, had disposed of the great clay giant
with its cowardly mare’s heart, now rushed to his master’s rescue;
but all his efforts and those of the assembled gods, whom he quickly
summoned, could not raise the pinioning leg. While they were standing
there, helplessly wondering what they should do next, Thor’s little son
Magni came up. According to varying accounts, he was then only three
days or three years old, but he quickly seized the giant’s foot, and,
unaided, set his father free, declaring that had he only been summoned
sooner he would easily have disposed of both giant and squire. This
exhibition of strength upon his part made the gods wonder greatly, and
helped them to recognize the truth of the various predictions, which
one and all declared that their descendants would be mightier than
they, would survive them, and would rule in their turn over the new
heaven and earth.

To reward his son for his timely aid, Thor gave him the steed Gullfaxi
(golden-maned), to which he had fallen heir by right of conquest, and
Magni ever after rode this marvelous horse, which almost equaled the
renowned Sleipnir in speed and endurance.

[Sidenote: Groa, the sorceress.]

After vainly trying to remove the stone splinter from his forehead,
Thor sadly returned home to Thrud-vang, where Sif’s loving efforts
were equally unsuccessful. She therefore resolved to send for Groa
(green-making), a sorceress, noted for her skill in medicine and for
the efficacy of her spells and incantations. Groa immediately signified
her readiness to render every service in her power to the god who had
so often benefited her, and solemnly began to recite powerful runes,
under whose influence Thor felt the stone grow looser and looser.
In his delight at the prospect of a speedy deliverance, Thor wished
to reward the enchantress. Knowing that nothing could give greater
pleasure to a mother than the prospect of seeing a long-lost child,
he therefore told her he had recently crossed the Elivagar, or ice
streams, to rescue her little son Orvandil (germ) from the frost
giants’ cruel power, and had succeeded in carrying him off in a basket.
But, as the little rogue would persist in sticking one of his bare
toes through a hole in the basket, it had been frost bitten, and Thor,
accidentally breaking it off, had flung it up into the sky, where it
shone as a star, known in the North as “Orvandil’s Toe.”

Delighted with these tidings, the prophetess paused in her incantations
to express her joy, but, having forgotten just where she left off, she
was never able to continue her spell, and the flint stone remained
imbedded in Thor’s forehead, whence it could never be dislodged.

Of course, as Thor’s hammer always did him such good service, it was
the most prized of all his possessions, and his dismay was very great
when he awoke one morning and found it gone. His cry of anger and
disappointment soon brought Loki to his side, and to him Thor confided
the secret of his loss, declaring that were the giants to hear of it,
they would soon attempt to storm Asgard and destroy the gods.

 “Wroth waxed Thor, when his sleep was flown,
  And he found his trusty hammer gone;
  He smote his brow, his beard he shook,
  The son of earth ’gan round him look;
  And this the first word that he spoke:
  ‘Now listen what I tell thee, Loke;
  Which neither on earth below is known,
  Nor in heaven above: my hammer’s gone.’”

              THRYM’S QUIDA (Herbert’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Thor and Thrym.]

Loki declared he would try to discover the thief and recover the
hammer, if Freya would only lend him her falcon plumes, and immediately
hastened off to Folkvang to borrow them. In the form of a bird he
then winged his flight across the river Ifing, and over the barren
stretches of Jötun-heim, where he shrewdly suspected the thief was to
be found. There he saw Thrym, prince of the frost giants and god of the
destructive thunder storm, sitting alone on a hillside, and, artfully
questioning him, soon learned that he had stolen the hammer, had buried
it deep underground, and would never give it up unless Freya were
brought to him, in bridal array, ready to become his wife.

 “I have the Thunderer’s hammer bound
  Fathoms eight beneath the ground;
  With it shall no one homeward tread
  Till he bring me Freya to share my bed.”

              THRYM’S QUIDA (Herbert’s tr.).

Indignant at the giant’s presumption, Loki returned to Thrud-vang,
where Thor, hearing what he had learned, declared it would be well to
visit Freya and try to prevail upon her to sacrifice herself for the
general good. But when the Æsir told the goddess of beauty what they
wished her to do, she flew into such a passion that even her necklace
burst. She told them that she would never leave her beloved husband
for any god, and much less to marry an ugly old giant and dwell in
Jötun-heim, where all was dreary in the extreme, and where she would
soon die of longing for the green fields and flowery meadows, in
which she loved to roam. Seeing that further persuasions would be
useless, Loki and Thor returned home and there devised another plan
for recovering the hammer. By Heimdall’s advice, Thor borrowed and
reluctantly put on all Freya’s clothes and her necklace, and enveloped
himself in a thick veil. Loki, having attired himself as a handmaiden,
then mounted with him in the goat-drawn chariot, to ride to Jötun-heim,
where they intended to play the respective parts of the goddess of
beauty and of her attendant.

 “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 Jötun-heim.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Thrym welcomed his guests at the palace door, overjoyed at the thought
that he was about to secure undisputed possession of the goddess of
beauty, for whom he had long sighed in vain. He quickly led them to the
banquet hall, where Thor, the bride elect, almost disgraced himself by
eating an ox, eight huge salmon, and all the cakes and sweets provided
for the women, washing down these miscellaneous viands with two whole
barrels of mead.

The giant bridegroom watched these gastronomic feats with amazement,
and was not even reassured when Loki confidentially whispered to him
that the bride was so deeply in love with him that she had not been
able to taste a morsel of food for more than eight days. Thrym then
sought to kiss the bride, but drew back appalled at the fire of her
glance, which Loki explained as a burning glance of love. The giant’s
sister, claiming the usual gifts, was not even noticed; so Loki again
whispered to the wondering Thrym that love made people absent-minded.
Intoxicated with passion and mead, which he, too, had drunk in liberal
quantities, the bridegroom now bade his servants produce the sacred
hammer to consecrate the marriage, and as soon as it was brought
he himself laid it in the pretended Freya’s lap. The next moment a
powerful hand closed over the short handle, and the weapon, rapidly
hurled by Thor, soon slew the giant, his sister, and all the invited
guests.

 “‘Bear in the hammer to plight the maid;
  Upon her lap the bruiser lay,
  And firmly plight our hands and fay.’
  The Thunderer’s soul smiled in his breast;
  When the hammer hard on his lap was placed,
  Thrym first, the king of the Thursi, he slew,
  And slaughtered all the giant crew.”

              THRYM’S QUIDA (Herbert’s tr.).

Leaving a smoking heap of ruins behind them, the gods then drove
rapidly back to Asgard, where the borrowed garments were given back
to Freya, and the Æsir all rejoiced at the recovery of the precious
hammer. When next Odin glanced towards that part of Jötun-heim from
the top of his throne Hlidskialf, he saw the ruins covered with
tender green shoots, for Thor, having conquered his enemy, had taken
possession of his land, which no longer remained barren and desolate as
before, but brought forth fruit in abundance.

[Sidenote: Thor and Geirrod.]

Loki, in search of adventures, once borrowed Freya’s falcon garb and
flew off to another part of Jötun-heim, where he perched on top of the
gables of Geirrod’s house, and, gazing about him, soon attracted the
attention of this giant, who bade one of his servants catch the bird.
Amused at the fellow’s clumsy attempts to secure him, Loki flitted
about from place to place, only moving just as the giant was about to
lay hands upon him, until, miscalculating his distance, he suddenly
found himself a captive.

Geirrod, gazing upon the bird’s bright eyes, shrewdly suspected that
it was a god in disguise, and to force him to speak, locked him up
in a cage, where he kept him for three whole months without food or
drink. Conquered at last by hunger and thirst, Loki revealed his
identity, and obtained his release by promising that he would induce
Thor to visit Geirrod without his hammer, pelt, or magic gauntlet.
Loki then flew back to Asgard, and told Thor that he had been royally
entertained, and that his host had expressed a strong desire to see the
powerful thunder-god, of whom Loki had told him such wonderful tales.
Flattered by this artful speech, Thor was soon brought to consent to
a journey to Jötun-heim, and immediately set out, leaving his three
marvelous weapons at home. He and Loki had not gone very far, however,
ere they came to the house of the giantess Grid, one of Odin’s many
wives, who, seeing Thor disarmed, lent him her own girdle, staff, and
glove, warning him to beware of treachery. Some time after leaving
her, Thor and Loki came to the river Veimer, which the thunder-god,
accustomed to wading, coolly prepared to ford, bidding Loki and Thialfi
cling fast to his belt if they would come safe across.

In the middle of the stream, however, a sudden cloudburst and freshet
overtook them; the waters began to rise and roar, and although Thor
leaned heavily upon his staff, he was almost swept away by the force of
the raging current.

 “Wax not, Veimer,
  Since to wade I desire
  To the realm of the giants!
  Know, if thou waxest,
  Then waxes my asamight
  As high as the heavens.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Looking up the stream, Thor now became aware of the presence of
Geirrod’s daughter Gialp, and rightly suspected that she was the cause
of the storm. He picked up a huge bowlder, which he flung at her,
muttering that the best place to dam a river was at its source. The
rock had the desired effect, for the giantess fled, the waters abated,
and Thor, exhausted but safe, pulled himself up on the opposite bank by
a little shrub, the mountain-ash or sorb, which has since been known
as “Thor’s salvation,” and considered gifted with occult powers.
After resting awhile the god resumed his journey; but upon arriving
at Geirrod’s house he was so exhausted that he sank wearily down upon
the only chair in sight. To his surprise, however, he felt it rise
beneath him, and fearing lest he should be crushed against the rafters,
he braced the borrowed staff against the ceiling and forced the chair
downward with all his might. A terrible cracking, sudden cries, and
moans of pain proved that he had broken the backs of the giant’s
daughters, Gialp and Greip, who had slipped under his chair and had
treacherously tried to slay him.

 “Once I employed
  My asamight
  In the realm of giants,
  When Gialp and Greip,
  Geirrod’s daughters,
  Wanted to lift me to heaven.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Geirrod now challenged Thor to show his strength and skill, and without
waiting for the preconcerted signal, flung a red-hot wedge at him.
Thor, quick of eye and a practiced catcher, caught the missile with the
giantess’s iron glove, and hurled it back at his opponent. Such was the
force of the god, that the missile passed, not only through the pillar
behind which the giant had taken refuge, but through him and the wall
of the house, and buried itself deep in the earth without.

Thor then marched up to the giant’s corpse, which at the blow from his
weapon had been changed into stone, and set it up in a conspicuous
place, as a monument of his strength and of the victory he had won over
his redoubtable foes, the mountain giants.

[Sidenote: Worship of Thor.]

Thor’s name has been given to many of the places he was wont to
frequent, such as the principal harbor of the Faroe Islands, and to
families which claim to be descended from him. It is still extant
in such names as Thunderhill in Surrey, and in the family names of
Thorburn and Thorwaldsen, but is most conspicuous in the name of one
of the days of the week, Thor’s day or Thursday.

 “Over the whole earth
  Still is it Thor’s day!”

              SAGA OF KING OLAF (Longfellow).

Thor was considered a preëminently benevolent deity, and it was for
that reason that he was so widely worshiped and that his temples arose
at Moeri, Hlader, Godey, Gothland, Upsala, and other places, where the
people never failed to invoke him for a favorable year at Yule-tide,
his principal festival. It was customary on this occasion to burn a
great log of oak, his sacred tree, as an emblem of the warmth and light
of summer, which would soon come to drive away the darkness and cold of
winter.

Brides invariably wore red, Thor’s favorite color, which was considered
emblematical of love, and for the same reason betrothal rings in the
North were almost always set with a red stone.

Thor’s temples and statues, like Odin’s, were fashioned of wood,
and the greater number of them were destroyed during the reign of
King Olaf the Saint. According to ancient chronicles, this monarch
forcibly converted his subjects. He was specially incensed against the
inhabitants of a certain province, because they worshiped a rude image
of Thor, which they decked with golden ornaments, and before which they
set food every evening, declaring the god ate it, as no trace of it was
left in the morning.

The people, being called upon in 1030 to renounce this idol in favor of
the true God, promised to consent if the morrow were cloudy; but when
after a whole night spent in ardent prayer, Olaf rapturously beheld a
cloudy day, the obstinate people declared they were not yet convinced
of his God’s power, and would only believe if the sun shone on the
following day.

Once more Olaf spent the night in prayer, but at dawn his chagrin was
great to see the sky overcast. Nevertheless, determined to gain his
end he assembled the people near Thor’s statue, and after secretly
bidding his principal attendant smash the idol with his battle ax if
the people turned their eyes away but for a moment, he began to address
them. Suddenly, while all were listening to him, Olaf pointed to the
horizon, where the sun was slowly breaking its way through the clouds,
and exclaimed, “Behold our God!” While the people one and all turned
to see what he meant, the attendant broke the idol, and a host of mice
and other vermin scattered on all sides. Seeing now that the statue was
hollow, and that the food placed before their god had been devoured by
noxious animals only, the people ceased to revere Thor, and definitely
accepted the faith which King Olaf had so long and vainly pressed upon
them.




CHAPTER V.

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.”




CHAPTER VI.

BRAGI.


[Sidenote: Origin of poetry.]

At the time of the dispute between the Æsir and Vanas, when the
peace articles had all been agreed upon, a vase was brought into the
assembly into which both parties solemnly spat. From this saliva the
gods created Kvasir, a being renowned for his wisdom and goodness,
who went about the world answering all questions asked him, thus
teaching and benefiting all mankind. The dwarfs, hearing about Kvasir’s
great wisdom, coveted it, and finding him asleep one day, two of
their number, Fialar and Galar, treacherously slew him, and drained
every drop of his blood into three vessels--the kettle Od-hroerir
(inspiration) and the bowls Son (expiation) and Boden (offering). After
duly mixing this blood with honey, they manufactured from it a sort of
beverage so inspiring that any one who tasted it immediately became a
poet, and could sing with a charm which was certain to win all hearts.

Now, although the dwarfs had brewed this marvelous mead for their own
consumption, they did not even taste it, but hid it away in a secret
place, while they went out in search of further adventures. They had
not gone very far ere they found the giant Gilling also sound asleep
lying on a steep bank, and maliciously rolled him into the water,
where he perished. Then hastening to his dwelling, some climbed on the
roof, carrying a huge millstone, while the others, entering, told the
giantess that her husband was dead. This news caused the poor woman
great grief; but just as she was rushing out of the house to view
Gilling’s remains, the wicked dwarfs rolled the millstone down upon
her head, and killed her. According to another account, the dwarfs
invited the giant to go fishing with them, and succeeded in slaying him
by sending him out in a leaky vessel, which sank beneath his weight.

The crime thus committed did not long remain unpunished, for although
Gilling’s wife was dead, he had left a brother, Suttung, who determined
to avenge him. Seizing the dwarfs in his mighty grasp, this giant
placed them on a shoal far out at sea, where they would surely have
perished at the next high tide had they not succeeded in redeeming
their lives by relinquishing their recently brewed mead. As soon as
Suttung set them ashore, they therefore gave him the precious compound,
which he intrusted to his daughter Gunlod, bidding her guard it night
and day, and allow neither gods nor mortals to have even a taste. To
fulfill this command, Gunlod carried the three vessels into the hollow
mountain, where she kept watch over them with the most scrupulous care,
little suspecting that Odin had discovered their place of concealment,
thanks to the sharp eyes of his ever-vigilant ravens Hugin and Munin.

As Odin had mastered the runic lore and had tasted the waters of
Mimir’s fountain, he was already the wisest of gods; but hearing of
the power of the draught of inspiration manufactured out of Kvasir’s
blood, he became very anxious to obtain possession of it also. With
this purpose in view he therefore donned his broad-brimmed hat, wrapped
himself in his cloud-hued cloak, and journeyed off to Jötun-heim. On
his way to the giant’s dwelling he passed by a field where nine ugly
thralls were busy making hay. Odin paused for a moment, watched them
work, and then proposed to whet their scythes, which seemed very dull
indeed--an offer which the thralls eagerly accepted.

Drawing a whetstone from his bosom, Odin proceeded to sharpen the nine
scythes, skillfully giving them such a keen edge that the thralls,
finding their labor much lightened, asked for his whetstone. With
good-humored acquiescence, Odin tossed the whetstone over the wall;
but as the nine thralls simultaneously sprang forward to catch it,
they wounded one another with their keen scythes. In anger at their
respective carelessness, they now began to fight, and did not pause
until they were all either mortally wounded or dead.

Quite undismayed by this tragedy, Odin continued on his way, and
soon came to the house of the giant Baugi, a brother of Suttung, who
received him very hospitably, and in the course of the conversation
informed him that he was greatly embarrassed, as it was harvest time
and all his workmen had just been found dead in the hayfield.

Odin, who on this occasion had given his name as Bolwerk (evil doer),
promptly offered his services to the giant, promising to accomplish
as much work as the nine thralls, and to labor diligently all summer
in exchange for one single draught of Suttung’s magic mead when the
busy season was ended. This bargain was immediately concluded, and
Baugi’s new servant, Bolwerk, worked incessantly all summer long, more
than fulfilling his part of the contract, and safely garnering all the
grain before the autumn rains began to fall. When the first days of
winter came, Bolwerk presented himself before his master, claiming his
reward. But Baugi hesitated and demurred, saying he dared not openly
ask his brother Suttung for a draught of inspiration, but would try to
obtain it by cunning. Together, Bolwerk and Baugi then proceeded to the
mountain where Gunlod dwelt, and as they could find no other mode of
entering the secret cave, Odin produced his trusty auger, called Rati,
and bade the giant bore with all his might to make a hole through which
he might crawl into the mountain.

Baugi silently obeyed, and after a few moments’ work withdrew the tool,
saying that he had pierced through the mountain side, and that Odin
would have no difficulty in slipping through. But the god, mistrusting
this statement, merely blew into the hole, and when the dust and chips
came flying into his face, he sternly bade Baugi resume his boring
and never attempt to deceive him again. The giant bored on, and when
he withdrew his tool again, Odin ascertained that the hole was really
finished. Changing himself into a worm, he wriggled through with
such remarkable rapidity that he managed to escape, although Baugi
treacherously thrust the sharp auger into the hole after him, intending
to kill him.

 “Rati’s mouth I caused
  To make a space,
  And to gnaw the rock;
  Over and under me
  Were the Jötun’s ways:
  Thus I my head did peril.”

              HÁVAMÁL (Thorpe’s tr.).

Having reached the stalactite-hung cave, Odin reassumed his usual
godlike form and starry mantle, and then presented himself before the
beautiful Gunlod to exert all his fascinations to win her love, and
coax her to grant him a sip from each of the vessels confided to her
care.

Won by his passionate wooing, Gunlod consented to become his wife,
and after he had spent three whole days with her in this retreat, she
brought out the vessels from their secret hiding place, and told him he
might take a sip from each.

 “And a draught obtained
  Of the precious mead,
  Drawn from Od-hroerir.”

              ODIN’S RUNE-SONG (Thorpe’s tr.).

Odin made use of this permission to drink so deeply that he completely
drained all three vessels, and then, having obtained all he wanted,
and being intoxicated with love, poetry, and inspiration, he donned
his eagle plumes, rose higher and higher up into the blue, and, after
hovering for a moment over the mountain top, winged his heavy flight
towards Asgard.

He was still very far from the gods’ realm, however, when he suddenly
became aware of a pursuer, and, turning his head, ascertained that
Suttung, having also assumed the form of an eagle, was coming rapidly
after him to compel him to surrender the stolen mead. Odin therefore
flew faster and faster, straining every nerve to reach Asgard before
the foe should overtake him, while the gods anxiously watched the race.

Seeing that Odin was greatly handicapped and would scarcely be able to
escape, the Æsir hastily gathered all the combustible materials they
could find, and as soon as he had flown over the ramparts of their
dwelling, they set fire to the mass of fuel, so that the flames, rising
high, singed the wings of Suttung, who, bewildered with pain, fell into
the very midst of the fire, where he was burned to death.

As for Odin, he flew on to the spot where the gods had prepared vessels
for the stolen mead, and disgorged the draught of inspiration in such
breathless haste that a few drops were scattered over the earth. There
they became the portion of rhymsters and poetasters, the gods reserving
the divine beverage for their own consumption, and only occasionally
vouchsafing a taste to some favored mortal, who, immediately after, won
world-wide renown by his inspired songs.

 “Of a well-assumed form
  I made good use:
  Few things fail the wise;
  For Od-hroerir
  Is now come up
  To men’s earthly dwellings.”

              HÁVAMÁL (Thorpe’s tr.).

As men and gods owed this priceless gift to Odin, they were ever ready
to show him their gratitude, and not only called it by his name, but
also worshiped him as god of eloquence, poetry, and song, and made him
the patron of all scalds.

[Sidenote: The god of music.]

Although Odin had thus won the gift of poetry, he seldom made use of
it himself. It was reserved for his son Bragi, the child of Gunlod,
to become the god of poetry and music and to charm the world with his
songs.

 “White-bearded bard, ag’d
  Bragi, his gold harp
  Sweeps--and yet softer
  Stealeth the day.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

As soon as Bragi was born in the stalactite-hung cave where Odin had
won Gunlod’s affections, the dwarfs presented him with a magic golden
harp, and, setting him on board of one of their own vessels, sent him
out into the wide world. As the boat gently passed out of subterranean
darkness, and floated over the threshold of Nain, the realm of the
dwarf of death, Bragi, the fair and immaculate young god, who until
then had shown no signs of life, suddenly sat up, and, seizing the
golden harp beside him, began to sing the wondrous song of life, which
at times rose up to heaven, and then sank down to the underground realm
of Hel, the goddess of death.

 “Yggdrasil’s ash is
  Of all trees most excellent,
  And of all ships, Skidbladnir;
  Of the Æsir, Odin,
  And of horses, Sleipnir;
  Bifröst of bridges,
  And of scalds, Bragi.”

              LAV OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

While he played the vessel was gently wafted over sunlit waters, and
soon touched the shore. The god Bragi then proceeded on foot, threading
his way through the bare and silent forest, playing as he walked. At
the sound of his tender music the trees began to bud and bloom, and the
grass underfoot was gemmed with countless flowers.

Here he met Idun, daughter of Ivald, the fair goddess of immortal
youth, whom the dwarfs allowed to visit the earth from time to time,
and at her approach nature invariably assumed its loveliest and
gentlest aspect.

Bragi having secured this fair goddess for his wife hastened with
her to Asgard, where both were warmly welcomed and where Odin, after
tracing runes on Bragi’s tongue, decreed that he should be the heavenly
minstrel and compose songs in honor of the gods and of the heroes whom
he received in Valhalla.

[Sidenote: Worship of Bragi.]

As Bragi was god of poetry, eloquence, and song, the Northern races
also called poetry by his name, and scalds of either sex were
frequently designated as Braga-men or Braga-women. Bragi was greatly
honored by all the Northern races, and hence his health was always
drunk on solemn or festive occasions, but especially at funeral feasts
and at Yule-tide celebrations.

When it was time to drink this toast, which was served in cups shaped
like a ship, and was called the Bragaful, the sacred sign of the hammer
was first made over it. Then the new ruler or head of the family
solemnly pledged himself to some great deed of valor, which he was
bound to execute within the year, unless he wished to be considered
destitute of honor. Following his example, all the guests were then
wont to make similar vows and declare what they would do; and as some
of them, owing to previous potations, talked rather too freely of their
intentions on these occasions, this custom seems to connect the god’s
name with the vulgar but very expressive English verb “to brag.”

In art, Bragi is generally represented as an elderly man, with long
white hair and beard, and holding the golden harp from which his
fingers could draw such magic tones.




CHAPTER VII.

IDUN.


[Sidenote: The apples of youth.]

Idun, the personification of spring or immortal youth, who, according
to some mythologists, had no birth and was never to taste death, was
also warmly welcomed by the gods when she made her appearance in Asgard
with Bragi. To win their affections she promised them a daily taste of
the marvelous apples which she bore in her casket, which had the power
of conferring immortal youth and loveliness upon all who partook of
them.

 “The golden apples
  Out of her garden
  Have yielded you dower of youth,
  Ate you them every day.”

              WAGNER (Forman’s tr.).

Thanks to this magic fruit, the Scandinavian gods, who, because they
sprang from a mixed race, were not all immortal, warded off the
approach of old age and disease, and remained vigorous, beautiful, and
young through countless ages. These apples were therefore considered
very precious indeed, and Idun carefully treasured them in her magic
casket. But no matter how many she drew out, the same number always
remained for distribution at the feast of the gods, to whom alone she
vouchsafed a taste, although dwarfs and giants were eager to obtain
possession of this fruit.

 “Bright Iduna, Maid immortal!
  Standing at Valhalla’s portal,
  In her casket has rich store
  Of rare apples, gilded o’er;
  Those rare apples, not of Earth,
  Ageing Æsir give fresh birth.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

One day, Odin, Hoenir, and Loki started out upon one of their usual
excursions to earth, and, after wandering for a long while, found
themselves in a deserted region, where they could discover no
hospitable dwelling. Weary and very hungry, the gods perceiving a herd
of oxen, slew one, kindled a fire, and sat down beside it to rest while
waiting for their meat to cook.

To their surprise, however, in spite of the roaring flames the meat
remained quite raw. Realizing that some magic must be at work, they
looked about them to discover what could hinder their cookery. They
finally perceived an eagle perched upon a tree above them. The bird
addressed them and declared that the spell would be removed and the
meat done to a turn in a very short time if they would only give him as
much food as he could eat. The gods agreed to do this, and the eagle,
swooping downwards, fanned the flames with his huge wings, and soon
the meat was cooked. But as he was about to carry off three quarters
of the ox as his share, Loki seized a great stake lying near at hand,
and began to belabor the voracious bird, forgetting that it was versed
in magic arts. To his great dismay one end of the stake stuck fast to
the eagle’s back, the other to his hands, and he found himself dragged
over stones and through briers, flying through the air, his arms almost
torn out of their sockets. In vain he cried for mercy and implored the
eagle to let him go; the bird flew on, until he promised any ransom his
ravisher could ask in exchange for his release.

[Sidenote: Thiassi, the storm giant.]

The bird, who was the storm giant Thiassi in eagle guise, let him go
only upon one condition. He made him promise upon the most solemn of
oaths that he would lure Idun out of Asgard, so that the giant might
obtain possession of her and of her magic fruit.

Released at last, Loki returned to join Odin and Hoenir, to whom,
however, he was very careful not to confide the condition upon which he
had obtained his freedom; and when they had returned to Asgard he began
to plan how he might entice Idun outside of the gods’ abode. A few days
later, Bragi being absent on one of his minstrel tours, Loki sought
Idun in the groves of Brunnaker, where she had taken up her abode, and
by artfully describing some apples which grew at a short distance from
there, and which he mendaciously declared were exactly like hers, he
lured her away from home with a crystal dish full of fruit, which she
intended to compare with that which he extolled. No sooner had Idun
left Asgard, however, than the deceiver Loki forsook her, and ere she
could return home the storm giant Thiassi swept down from the north
on his eagle wings, caught her up in his cruel talons, and bore her
swiftly away to his barren and desolate home of Thrym-heim.

 “Thrym-heim the sixth is named,
  Where Thiassi dwelt,
  That all-powerful Jötun.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

There she pined, grew pale and sad, but persistently refused to give
him the smallest bite of her magic fruit, which, as he well knew, would
make him beautiful and renew his strength and youth.

      “All woes that fall
      On Odin’s hall
  Can be traced to Loki base.
    From out Valhalla’s portal
  ’Twas he who pure Iduna lured,--
      Whose casket fair
      Held apples rare
    That render gods immortal,--
  And in Thiassi’s tower immured.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Time passed. The gods, thinking that Idun had accompanied her husband
and would soon return, at first paid no heed to her departure, but
little by little the beneficial effect of their last apple feast passed
away. They gradually felt themselves grow old and stiff, and saw their
youth and beauty disappear; so they became alarmed and began to search
for the missing goddess of perpetual youth.

Close investigation very soon revealed the fact that she had last been
seen in Loki’s company, and when Odin sternly called him to account,
this god was forced to reveal that he had betrayed her into the storm
giant’s power.

 “By his mocking, scornful mien,
  Soon in Valhal it was seen
  ’Twas the traitor Loki’s art
  Which had led Idun apart
  To gloomy tower
  And Jötun power.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The gods now indignantly bade Loki undo the harm he had done and
immediately bring the goddess back, warning him that unless he complied
with this command he would forfeit his life.

Thus adjured, Loki promised to do all he could, and, borrowing Freya’s
falcon plumage, flew off to Thrym-heim, where he found Idun alone,
sadly mourning her exile from Asgard and her beloved Bragi. Changing
the fair goddess into a nut according to some mythologists, or
according to others, into a swallow, Loki held her tightly between his
claws, and rapidly winged his way back to Asgard, hoping he would reach
the shelter of its high walls ere Thiassi returned from his fishing
excursion in the Northern seas.

The gods, assembled on the ramparts of the heavenly city, were watching
for his return with far more anxiety than they had for Odin when he
went in search of Od-hroerir, and, remembering the success of their
ruse on that occasion, they had gathered great piles of fuel, which
they were ready to set on fire at any moment.

[Sidenote: Return of Idun.]

Suddenly they saw Loki coming, but descried in his wake the giant
Thiassi, who, in eagle plumes, was striving to overtake him and claim
his prey. Loki, knowing his life depended upon the success of his
venture, made such great efforts to reach the goal ere Thiassi overtook
him that he cleared the wall and sank exhausted in the midst of the
gods, who, setting fire to the accumulated fuel, singed Thiassi’s
wings, blinded him with smoke, and, when he dropped stunned in their
midst, ruthlessly fell upon and slew him.

The Æsir were overjoyed at the recovery of Idun,--who hastened to deal
out her apples to them all. Feeling their wonted strength and good
looks return with every mouthful they ate, they good-naturedly declared
that it was no wonder even the giants longed to taste the apples of
perpetual youth. They therefore vowed they would place Thiassi’s eyes
as constellations in the heavens, in order to soften any feeling of
anger which his relatives might experience upon learning how he had
been slain.

 “Up I cast the eyes
  Of Allvaldi’s son
  Into the heaven serene:
  They are signs the greatest
  Of my deeds.”

              LAY OF HARBARD (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The goddess of spring.]

The physical explanation of this myth is obvious. Idun, the emblem of
vegetation, is forcibly carried away in autumn, when Bragi is absent
and the singing of the birds has ceased. The cold wintry wind, Thiassi,
detains her in the frozen, barren north, where she cannot thrive,
until Loki, the south wind, brings back the seed or the swallow, which
are both precursors of the returning spring. The youth, beauty, and
strength conferred by Idun are symbolical of Nature’s resurrection in
spring after winter’s sleep, when color and vigor return to the earth,
which has grown wrinkled and gray.

As the disappearance of Idun (vegetation) was a yearly occurrence,
the old scalds were not content with this one myth, but also
invented another, which, unfortunately, has come down to us only in
a fragmentary and very incomplete form. According to this account,
Idun was once sitting upon the branches of the sacred ash Yggdrasil,
when, growing suddenly faint, she loosed her hold and dropped down on
the ground beneath, to the lowest depths of Nifl-heim. There she lay,
pale and motionless, gazing with fixed and horror-struck eyes upon the
grewsome sights of Hel’s realm, trembling violently all the while, as
if overcome by the penetrating cold.

 “In the dales dwells
  The prescient Dîs,
  From Yggdrasil’s
  Ash sunk down,
  Of alfen race,
  Idun by name,
  The youngest of Ivaldi’s
  Elder children.
  She ill brooked
  Her descent
  Under the hoar tree’s
  Trunk confined.
  She would not happy be
  With Norvi’s daughter,
  Accustomed to a pleasanter
  Abode at home.”

              ODIN’S RAVENS’ SONG (Thorpe’s tr.).

Seeing that she did not rouse herself and return, Odin finally bade
Bragi, Heimdall, and another of the gods go in search of her, giving
them a white wolfskin to envelop her in, so that she should not suffer
from the cold, and bidding them make every effort to rouse her from her
stupor.

 “A wolf’s skin they gave her,
  In which herself she clad.”

              ODIN’S RAVENS’ SONG (Thorpe’s tr.).

But although Idun passively allowed them to wrap her up in the warm
wolfskin, she persistently refused to speak or move, and the gods
sadly suspected she foresaw great ills, for the tears continually
rolled down her pallid cheeks. Bragi, seeing her unhappiness, bade the
other gods return to Asgard without him, vowing that he would remain
beside her until she was ready to leave Hel’s dismal realm. But the
sight of her woe oppressed him so sorely that he had no heart for his
usual merry songs, and the strings of his harp remained entirely mute.

 “That voice-like zephyr o’er flow’r meads creeping,
  Like Bragi’s music his harp strings sweeping.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

In this myth Idun’s fall from Yggdrasil is symbolical of the autumnal
falling of the leaves, which lie limp and helpless on the cold bare
ground until they are hidden from sight under the snow, represented by
the wolfskin, which Odin, the sky, sends down to keep them warm; and
the cessation of the birds’ songs is further typified by Bragi’s silent
harp.




CHAPTER VIII.

NIÖRD.


We have already seen how the Æsir and Vanas exchanged hostages after
the terrible war they had waged against each other, and that while
Hoenir, Odin’s brother, went to live in Vana-heim, Niörd, with his two
children, Frey and Freya, definitely took up his abode in Asgard.

 “In Vana-heim
  Wise powers him created,
  And to the gods a hostage gave.”

              LAY OF VAFTHRUDNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

As ruler of the winds, and of the sea near the shore, Niörd was given
the palace of Nôatûn, near the seashore, where we are told he stilled
the terrible tempests stirred up by Ægir, god of the deep sea.

 “Niörd, the god of storms, whom fishers know;
  Not born in Heaven--he was in Van-heim rear’d,
  With men, but lives a hostage with the gods;
  He knows each frith, and every rocky creek
  Fringed with dark pines, and sands where sea fowl scream.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

He also extended his special protection over commerce and fishing,
which two occupations could be pursued with advantage only during
the short summer months, of which he was in a measure considered the
personification.

[Sidenote: God of summer.]

Niörd is represented in art as a very handsome god, in the prime of
life, clad in a short green tunic, with a crown of shells and seaweed
upon his head, or a broad-brimmed hat adorned with eagle or heron
plumes. As personification of the summer, he was invoked to still the
raging storms which desolated the coasts during the winter months. He
was also implored to hasten the vernal warmth and thereby extinguish
the winter fires.

As agriculture was practiced only during the summer months, and
principally along the fiords or sea inlets, Niörd was also invoked for
favorable harvests, for he was said to delight in prospering those who
placed their trust in him.

Niörd’s first wife, according to some authorities, was his sister
Nerthus, Mother Earth, who in Germany was identified with Frigga, as we
have seen, but in Scandinavia was considered a separate divinity. He
was, however, obliged to part with her when summoned to Asgard, where
he occupied one of the twelve seats in the great council hall, and was
present at all the assemblies of the gods, withdrawing to Nôatûn only
when his services were not required by the Æsir.

 “Nôatûn is the eleventh;
  There Niörd has
  Himself a dwelling made,
  Prince of men;
  Guiltless of sin,
  He rules o’er the high-built fane.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

In his own home by the seashore, Niörd delighted in watching the gulls
fly to and fro, and in observing the graceful movements of the swans,
his favorite birds, which were held sacred to him. He spent many an
hour, too, considering the gambols of the gentle seals, which came to
bask in the sunshine at his feet.

[Sidenote: Skadi, goddess of winter.]

Shortly after Idun’s recovery from Thrym-heim, and Thiassi’s death
within the bounds of Asgard, the assembled gods were greatly surprised
and dismayed to see Skadi, the giant’s daughter, appear one day in
their midst, demanding satisfaction for her father’s death. Although
the daughter of an ugly old Hrim-thurs, Skadi, the goddess of winter,
was very beautiful indeed, in her silvery armor, with her glittering
spear, sharp-pointed arrows, short white hunting dress, white fur
leggings, and broad snowshoes, and as she confronted the gods they
could not but recognize the justice of her claim, and offered the usual
fine in atonement. Skadi, however, was so very angry that she at first
refused this compromise, and sternly demanded a life for a life, until
Loki, wishing to appease her wrath, and thinking that if he could only
make those proud lips unbend enough to smile the rest would be easy,
began to play all manner of pranks. Fastening a goat to himself by
an invisible cord, he went through a series of antics, grotesquely
reproduced by the goat; and this sight was so very comical that all the
gods fairly shouted with merriment, and even Skadi was seen to smile.

Taking advantage of this softened mood, the gods pointed to the
firmament where her father’s eyes glowed like radiant stars in the
northern hemisphere. They told her they had placed them there to show
him all honor, and finally added that she might select as husband any
of the gods present at the assembly, providing she were content to
judge of their attractions by their naked feet.

Blindfolded, so that she could see only the feet of the gods standing
in a circle around her, Skadi looked about her until she saw a pair of
beautifully formed feet. She felt sure they must belong to Balder, the
god of light, whose bright face had charmed her, and she designated
their owner as her choice.

But when the bandage was removed, she discovered to her secret chagrin
that she had chosen Niörd, to whom her troth was plighted, and with
whom she nevertheless spent a very happy honeymoon in Asgard, where all
seemed to delight in doing her honor. This time passed, however; Niörd
took his bride home to Nôatûn, where the monotonous sound of the waves,
the shrieking of the gulls, and the cries of the seals so disturbed
Skadi’s slumbers that she finally declared it was quite impossible for
her to remain there any longer, and implored her husband to take her
back to her native Thrym-heim.

 “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 morning the mew (gull).”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Niörd, anxious to please his new wife, consented to take her to
Thrym-heim and dwell there with her nine nights out of every twelve,
providing she would spend the remaining three with him at Nôatûn; but
when he reached the mountain region, the soughing of the wind in the
pines, the thunder of the avalanches, the cracking of the ice, the roar
of the waterfalls, and the howling of the wolves appeared to him as
unbearable as the sound of the sea had seemed to his wife, and he could
not but rejoice when his time of exile was ended, and he once more
found himself domiciled at Nôatûn.

 “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.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Parting of Niörd and Skadi.]

For some time, Niörd and Skadi, who are the personifications of summer
and winter, alternated thus, the wife spending the three short summer
months by the sea, and he reluctantly remaining with her in Thrym-heim
during the nine long winter months. But, finding at last that their
tastes would never agree, they decided to part forever, and returned to
their respective homes, where each could follow the occupations which
custom had endeared.

 “Thrym-heim it’s called,
  Where Thjasse dwelled,
  That stream-mighty giant;
  But Skade now dwells,
  Pure bride of the gods,
  In her father’s old mansion.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Skadi now resumed her wonted pastime of hunting, leaving her realm
again only to marry the semi-historical Odin, to whom she bore a son
called Sæming, the first king of Norway, and the supposed founder of
the royal race which long ruled that country.

According to other accounts, however, Skadi eventually married Uller,
the winter-god. As Skadi was a skillful markswoman, she is represented
with bow and arrow, and, as goddess of the chase, she is generally
accompanied by one of the wolf-like Eskimo dogs so common in the North.
Skadi was invoked by hunters and by winter travelers, whose sleighs
she guided over the snow and ice, thus helping them to reach their
destination in safety.

Skadi’s anger against the gods, who had slain her father, the storm
giant, is an emblem of the unbending rigidity of the ice-enveloped
earth, which, softened at last by the frolicsome play of Loki (the heat
lightning), smiles, and permits the embrace of Niörd (summer). His
love, however, cannot hold her for more than three months of the year
(typified in the myth by nights), as she is always secretly longing for
the wintry storms and her wonted mountain amusements.

[Sidenote: Worship of Niörd.]

As Niörd was supposed to bless the vessels passing in and out of port,
his temples were situated by the seashore; it was there that the oaths
in his name were commonly sworn, and his health was drunk at every
banquet, where he was invariably named with his son Frey.

As all aquatic plants were supposed to belong to him, the marine sponge
was known in the North as “Niörd’s glove,” a name which was retained
until lately, when the same plant has been popularly called the
“Virgin’s hand.”




CHAPTER IX.

FREY.


Frey, or Fro, as he was called in Germany, was the son of Niörd and
Nerthus, or of Niörd and Skadi, and was born in Vana-heim. He therefore
belonged to the race of the Vanas, the divinities of water and air, but
was warmly welcomed in Asgard when he came thither as hostage with his
father. As it was customary among the Northern nations to bestow some
valuable gift upon a child when he cut his first tooth, the Æsir gave
the infant Frey the beautiful realm of Alf-heim or Fairyland, the home
of all the Light Elves.

 “Alf-heim the gods to Frey
  Gave in days of yore
  For a tooth gift.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The god of fairyland.]

Here Frey, the god of the golden sunshine and the warm summer showers,
took up his abode, charmed with the company of the elves and fairies,
who implicitly obeyed his every order, and at a sign from him
flitted to and fro, doing all the good in their power, for they were
preëminently beneficent spirits.

[Illustration: FREY.]

Frey received from the gods a marvelous sword (an emblem of the
sunbeams), which had the power of fighting successfully, and of its own
accord, as soon as it was drawn from its sheath. Because he carried
this glittering weapon, Frey has sometimes been confounded with the
sword-god Tyr or Saxnot, although he wielded it principally against
the frost giants, whom he hated almost as much as did Thor.

 “With a short-shafted hammer fights conquering Thor;
  Frey’s own sword but an ell long is made.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

The dwarfs from Svart-alfa-heim gave Frey the golden-bristled boar
Gullin-bursti (the golden-bristled), a personification of the sun. The
radiant bristles of this animal were considered symbolical either of
the solar rays, of the golden grain, which at his bidding waved over
the harvest fields of Midgard, or of agriculture, for the boar (by
tearing up the ground with his sharp tusk) was supposed to have first
taught mankind how to plow.

          “There was Frey, and sat
  On the gold-bristled boar, who first, they say,
  Plowed the brown earth, and made it green for Frey.”

              LOVERS OF GUDRUN (William Morris).

Frey sometimes rode astride of this marvelous boar, whose celerity was
very great, and at other times harnessed him to his golden chariot,
which was said to contain the fruits and flowers which he lavishly
scattered abroad over the face of the earth.

Frey was, moreover, the proud possessor, not only of the dauntless
steed Blodug-hofi, which dashed through fire and water at his command,
but also of the magic ship Skidbladnir, a personification of the
clouds. This vessel, navigating over land and sea, was always wafted
along by favorable winds, and was so elastic that, while it could
assume large enough proportions to carry the gods, their steeds, and
all their equipments, it could also be folded up like a napkin and
thrust out of sight.

 “Ivaldi’s sons
  Went in days of old
  Skidbladnir to form,
  Of ships the best,
  For the bright Frey,
  Niörd’s benign son.”

              LAY OF GRIMNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

It is related in one of the lays of the Edda that Frey once ventured
to ascend Odin’s throne Hlidskialf, and from this exalted seat cast a
glance over all the wide earth. Gazing towards the frozen North, he saw
a beautiful young maiden enter the house of the frost giant Gymir, and
as she raised her hand to lift the latch her radiant beauty illuminated
sea and sky.

[Sidenote: The wooing of Gerda.]

A moment later, this lovely creature, whose name was Gerda, and who
is considered as a personification of the flashing Northern lights,
vanished within her father’s house, and Frey pensively wended his
way back to Alf-heim, his heart oppressed with longing to make this
fair maiden his wife. Being deeply in love, he was melancholy and
absent-minded in the extreme, and began to behave so strangely that his
father, Niörd, became greatly alarmed about his health, and bade his
favorite servant, Skirnir, discover the cause of this sudden change.
After much persuasion, Skirnir finally won from Frey an account of his
ascent of Hlidskialf, and of the fair vision he had seen. He confessed
his love and especially his utter despair, for as Gerda was the
daughter of Gymir and Angur-boda, and a relative of the murdered giant
Thiassi, he feared she would never view his suit with favor.

 “In Gymer’s court I saw her move,
  The maid who fires my breast with love;
  Her snow-white arms and bosom fair
  Shone lovely, kindling sea and air.
  Dear is she to my wishes, more
  Than e’er was maid to youth before;
  But gods and elves, I wot it well,
  Forbid that we together dwell.”

              SKIRNER’S LAY (Herbert’s tr.).

Skirnir, however, consolingly replied that he could see no reason
why his master should take such a despondent view of the matter, and
proposed to go and woo the maiden in his name, providing Frey would
lend him his steed for the journey, and give him his glittering sword
in reward.

Overjoyed at the mere prospect of winning the beautiful Gerda, Frey
handed Skirnir the flashing sword, and bade him use his horse, ere he
resumed his interrupted day-dream; for ever since he had fallen in love
he had frequently indulged in revery. In his absorption he did not even
notice that Skirnir was still hovering near him, and did not perceive
him cunningly steal the reflection of his face from the surface of
the brook near which he was seated, and imprison it in his drinking
horn, intending “to pour it out in Gerda’s cup, and by its beauty
win the heart of the giantess for the lord” for whom he was about to
go a-wooing. Provided with this portrait, with eleven golden apples,
and with the magic ring Draupnir, Skirnir now rode off to Jötun-heim,
to fulfill his embassy. As soon as he came near Gymir’s dwelling he
heard the loud and persistent howling of his watch dogs, which were
personifications of the wintry winds. A shepherd, guarding his flock
in the vicinity, told him, in answer to his inquiry, that it would be
impossible for him to approach the house, on account of the flaming
barrier which surrounded it; but Skirnir, knowing that Blodug-hofi
would dash through any fire, merely set spurs to his steed, and, riding
up to the giant’s door, soon found himself ushered into the presence of
the lovely Gerda.

To induce this fair maiden to lend a favorable ear to his master’s
proposals, Skirnir showed her the purloined portrait, and proffered the
golden apples and magic ring, which she haughtily refused to accept,
declaring that her father had gold enough and to spare.

 “I take not, I, that wondrous ring,
  Though it from Balder’s pile you bring.
  Gold lack not I, in Gymer’s bower;
  Enough for me my father’s dower.”

              SKIRNER’S LAY (Herbert’s tr.).

Indignant at her scorn, Skirnir now threatened to use his magic sword
to cut off her head; but as this threat did not in the least frighten
the maiden, and she calmly defied him, he had recourse to magic arts.
Cutting runes in his stick, he told her that unless she yielded ere the
spell was ended, she would be condemned either to eternal celibacy, or
to marry some hideous old frost giant whom she could never love.

Terrified into submission by the frightful description he gave of her
cheerless future in case she persisted in her refusal, Gerda finally
consented to become Frey’s wife, and dismissed Skirnir, promising to
meet her future spouse on the ninth night, in the land of Buri, the
green grove, where she would dispel his sadness and make him happy.

 “Burri is hight the seat of love;
  Nine nights elapsed, in that known grove
  Shall brave Niorder’s gallant boy
  From Gerda take the kiss of joy.”

              SKIRNER’S LAY (Herbert’s tr.).

Delighted with his success, Skirnir hurried back to Alf-heim, where
Frey eagerly came to meet him, and insisted upon knowing the result of
his journey. When he learned that Gerda had consented to become his
wife, his face grew radiant with joy; but when Skirnir further informed
him that he would have to wait nine nights ere he could behold his
promised bride, he turned sadly away, declaring the time would appear
interminable.

 “Long is one night, and longer twain;
  But how for three endure my pain?
  A month of rapture sooner flies
  Than half one night of wishful sighs.”

              SKIRNER’S LAY (Herbert’s tr.).

In spite of this loverlike despondency, however, the time of waiting
came to an end, and Frey joyfully hastened to the green grove, where he
met Gerda, who became his happy wife, and proudly sat upon his throne
beside him.

 “Frey to wife had Gerd;
  She was Gymir’s daughter,
  From Jötuns sprung.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

According to some mythologists, Gerda is not a personification of the
aurora borealis, but of the earth, which, hard, cold, and unyielding,
resists the spring-god’s proffers of adornment and fruitfulness (the
apples and ring), defies the flashing sunbeams (Frey’s sword), and only
consents to receive his kiss when it learns that it will else be doomed
to perpetual barrenness, or given over entirely into the power of the
giants (ice and snow). The nine nights of waiting are typical of the
nine winter months, at the end of which the earth becomes the bride of
the sun, in the groves where the trees are budding forth into leaf and
blossom.

Frey and Gerda, we are told, became the parents of a son called
Fiolnir, whose birth consoled Gerda for the loss of her brother Beli.
The latter had attacked Frey and had been slain by him, although the
sun-god, deprived of his matchless sword, had been obliged to defend
himself with a stag horn which he hastily snatched from the wall of his
dwelling.

Besides the faithful Skirnir, Frey had two other attendants, a
married couple, Beyggvir and Beyla, the personifications of mill
refuse and manure, which two ingredients, being used in agriculture
for fertilizing purposes, were therefore considered Frey’s faithful
servants, in spite of their unpleasing qualities.

[Sidenote: The historical Frey.]

Snorro-Sturleson, in his “Heimskringla,” or chronicle of the ancient
kings of Norway, states that Frey was an historical personage who bore
the name of Ingvi-Frey, and ruled in Upsala after the death of the
semi-historical Odin and Niörd. Under his reign the people enjoyed such
prosperity and peace that they declared their king must be a god. They
therefore began to invoke him as such, carrying their enthusiastic
admiration for him to such lengths that when he died the priests, not
daring to reveal the fact, laid him in a great mound instead of burning
his body, as had been customary until then. They then informed the
people that Frey--whose name was the Northern synonym for “master”--had
“gone into the mound,” an expression which eventually became the
Northern phrase for death.

Only three years later the people, who had continued paying their taxes
to the king by pouring the gold, silver, and copper coin into the mound
by three different openings, discovered that Frey was dead. As their
peace and prosperity had remained undisturbed, they decreed that his
corpse should never be burned, and thus inaugurated the custom of mound
burial, which in due time supplanted the funeral pyre in many places.
One of the three mounds near Gamla Upsala still bears this god’s name.
His statues were placed in the great temple there, and his name was
duly mentioned in all solemn oaths, of which the usual formula was, “So
help me Frey, Niörd, and the Almighty Asa” (Odin).

[Sidenote: Worship of Frey.]

No weapons were ever admitted in Frey’s temples, the most celebrated
of which were at Throndhjeim, and at Thvera in Iceland where oxen or
horses were offered up in sacrifice to him, and where a heavy gold
ring was dipped in the victim’s blood ere the above-mentioned oath was
solemnly taken upon it.

Frey’s statues, like those of all the other Northern divinities, were
roughly hewn blocks of wood, and the last of these sacred images seems
to have been destroyed by Olaf the Saint, who forcibly converted many
of his subjects. Besides being god of sunshine, fruitfulness, peace,
and prosperity, Frey was considered the patron of horses and horsemen,
and the deliverer of all captives.

 “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.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: The Yule feast.]

One month of every year, the Yule month, or Thor’s month, was
considered sacred to Frey as well as to Thor, and began on the longest
night of the year, which bore the name of Mother Night. This month was
a time of feasting and rejoicing, for it heralded the return of the
sun. The festival was called Yule (wheel) because the sun was supposed
to resemble a wheel rapidly revolving across the sky. This resemblance
gave rise to a singular custom in England, Germany, and along the
banks of the Moselle. Until within late years, the people were wont to
assemble yearly upon a mountain, to set fire to a huge wooden wheel,
twined with straw, which, all ablaze, was then sent rolling down the
hill and plunged with a hiss into the water.

 “Some others get a rotten Wheele, all worn and cast aside,
  Which, covered round about with strawe and tow, they closely hide;
  And caryed to some mountaines top, being all with fire light,
  They hurle it down with violence, when darke appears the night;
  Resembling much the sunne, that from the Heavens down should fal,
  A strange and monstrous sight it seemes, and fearful to them all;
  But they suppose their mischiefs are all likewise throwne to hell,
  And that, from harmes and dangers now, in safetie here they dwell.”

              NAOGEORGUS.

All the Northern races considered the Yule feast the greatest of the
year, and were wont to celebrate it with dance, feasting, and drinking,
each god being pledged by name. The missionaries, perceiving the
extreme popularity of this feast, thought best to encourage drinking to
the health of the Lord and his twelve apostles when they first began to
convert the Northern heathens. In honor of Frey, boar’s flesh was eaten
on this occasion. Crowned with laurel and rosemary, the animal’s head
was brought into the banquet hall with much ceremony--a custom long
after observed at Oxford, where the following lines were sung:

      “Caput apri defero
      Reddens laude Domino.
  The boar’s head in hand bring I,
  With garlands gay and rosemary.
  I pray you all sing merrily
    Qui estis in convivio.”

              QUEEN’S COLLEGE CAROL, OXFORD.

The father of the family then laid his hand on this dish, which was
called “the boar of atonement,” swearing he would be faithful to his
family, and would fulfill all his obligations--an example which was
followed by all present, from the highest to the lowest. This dish
could be carved only by a man of unblemished reputation and tried
courage, for the boar’s head was a sacred emblem which was supposed
to inspire every one with fear. For that reason a boar’s head was
frequently used as ornament for the helmets of Northern kings and
heroes whose bravery was unquestioned.

[Sidenote: God of conjugal happiness.]

As Frey’s name of Fro is phonetically the same as the word used in
German for gladness, he was considered the patron of every joy, and was
invariably invoked by married couples who wished to live in harmony.
Those who succeeded in doing so for a certain length of time were
publicly rewarded by the gift of a piece of boar’s flesh, for which, in
later times, the English and Viennese substituted a flitch of bacon or
a ham.

 “You shall swear, by custom of confession,
  If ever you made nuptial transgression,
  Be you either married man or wife:
  If you have brawls or contentious strife;
  Or otherwise, at bed or at board,
  Offended each other in deed or word;
  Or, since the parish clerk said Amen,
  You wish’d yourselves unmarried again;
  Or, in a twelvemonth and a day
  Repented not in thought any way,
  But continued true in thought and desire
  As when you join’d hands in the quire.
  If to these conditions, with all feare,
  Of your own accord you will freely sweare,
  A whole gammon of bacon you shall receive,
  And bear it hence with love and good leave:
  For this our custom at Dunmow well known--
  Though the pleasure be ours, the bacon’s your own.”

              BRAND’S POPULAR ANTIQUITIES.

At Dunmow, England, and in Vienna, Austria, this custom was kept up
very long indeed, the ham or flitch of bacon being hung over the city
gate, whence the successful candidate was expected to bring it down,
after he had satisfied the judges that he lived in peace with his
wife, but was not under petticoat rule. It is said that in Vienna
this ham once remained for a long time unclaimed until at last a
worthy burgher presented himself before the judges, bearing his wife’s
written affidavit that they had been married twelve years and had never
disagreed--a statement which was confirmed by all their neighbors. The
judges, satisfied with the proofs laid before them, told the candidate
that the prize was his, and that he only need climb the ladder placed
beneath it and bring it down. Rejoicing at having secured such a fine
ham, the man obeyed; but as he was about to reach upwards, he noticed
that the ham, exposed to the noonday sun, was beginning to melt, and
that a drop of fat threatened to fall upon and stain his Sunday coat.
Hastily beating a retreat, he pulled off his coat, jocosely remarking
that his wife would scold him roundly were he to stain it, a confession
which made the bystanders roar with laughter, and which cost him his
ham.

Another Yule-tide custom was the burning of a huge log, which had
to last all night or it was considered of very bad omen indeed. The
charred remains of this log were carefully collected, and treasured up
to set fire to the log of the following year.

    “With the last yeeres brand
    Light the new block, and
  For good successe in his spending,
    On your psaltries play,
    That sweet luck may
  Come while the log is a-tending.”

              HESPERIDES (Herrick).

This festival was so popular in Scandinavia, where it was celebrated in
January, that King Olaf, seeing how dear it was to the Northern heart,
transferred most of its observances to Christmas day, thereby doing
much to reconcile the ignorant people to their change of religion.

As god of peace and prosperity, Frey is supposed to have reappeared
upon earth many times, and to have ruled the Swedes under the name
of Ingvi-Frey, whence his descendants were called Inglings. He also
governed the Danes under the name of Fridleef. In Denmark he is said to
have married the beautiful maiden Freygerda, whom he had rescued from
a dragon. By her he had a son named Frodi, who, in due time, succeeded
him as king.

This Frodi ruled Denmark in the days when there was “peace throughout
all the world,” that is to say, just at the time when Christ was born
in Bethlehem of Judea; and because all his subjects lived in amity, he
was generally known as Peace Frodi.

[Sidenote: How the sea became salt.]

This king once received from Hengi-kiaptr a pair of magic millstones,
called Grotti, which were so ponderous that none of his servants nor
even his strongest warriors could turn them. As Peace Frodi knew that
the mill was enchanted and would grind anything he wished, he was
very anxious indeed to set it to work, and, during a visit to Sweden,
saw and purchased as slaves the two giantesses Menia and Fenia, whose
powerful muscles and frames had attracted his attention.

On his return home, Peace Frodi led these women to the mill, and bade
them turn the grindstones and grind out gold, peace, and prosperity--a
wish which was immediately fulfilled. Cheerfully the women worked on,
hour after hour, until the king’s coffers were overflowing with gold
and his land with prosperity and peace.

 “Let us grind riches to Frothi!
  Let us grind him, happy
  In plenty of substance,
  On our gladdening Quern.”

              GROTTA-SAVNGR (Longfellow’s tr.).

But when Menia and Fenia would fain have rested awhile, the king, whose
greed had been excited, bade them work on. In spite of their cries and
entreaties he forced them to labor hour after hour, allowing them only
as much time to rest as was required for the singing of a verse in a
song, until, exasperated by his cruelty, the giantesses resolved to
have their revenge. Once while Frodi slept they changed their song, and
grimly began to grind an armed host, instead of prosperity and peace.
By their spells they induced the Viking Mysinger to land with his
troops, surprise the Danes, who were wrapped in slumber, and slay them
all.

 “An army must come
  Hither forthwith,
  And burn the town
  For the prince.”

              GROTTA-SAVNGR (Longfellow’s tr.).

This Viking then placed the magic millstones Grotti and the two
slaves on board his vessel, and bade the women grind for him, saying
that he wanted salt, as it was a very valuable staple of commerce
at that time. The women obeyed; the millstones went round, grinding
salt in abundance; but the Viking, as cruel as Frodi, kept the women
persistently at work, until they ground such an immense quantity of
salt that its weight sunk the ship and all on board.

The ponderous millstones sank straight down into the sea in the
Pentland Firth, or off the northwestern coast of Norway, making a
deep round hole. The waters, rushing into the vortex and gurgling in
the holes in the center of the stones, produced the great whirlpool,
which is known as the Maelstrom. As for the salt, it soon melted; but
such was the quantity ground by the giantesses that it tainted all the
waters of the sea, which have ever since been very salt indeed.




CHAPTER X.

FREYA.


Freya, the fair Northern goddess of beauty and love, was the sister of
Frey and the daughter of Niörd and Nerthus, or Skadi. She was the most
beautiful and best beloved of all the goddesses, and while in Germany
she was identified with Frigga, in Norway, Sweden, Denmark, and Iceland
she was considered a separate divinity. Freya, having been born in
Vana-heim, was also known as Vanadis, the goddess of the Vanas, or as
Vanabride.

As soon as she reached Asgard, the gods were so charmed by her beauty
and grace that they bestowed upon her the realm of Folkvang and the
great hall Sessrymnir (the roomy-seated), where they assured her she
could easily accommodate all her guests.

 “Folkvang ’tis called,
  Where Freyja has right
  To dispose of the hall-seats.
  Every day of the slain
  She chooses the half,
  And leaves half to Odin.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Queen of the Valkyrs.]

Although goddess of love, Freya was not soft and pleasure-loving only,
for the ancient Northern races said that she had very martial tastes,
and that as Valfreya she often led Valkyrs down to the battlefields,
choosing and claiming one half the heroes slain. She was therefore
often represented with corselet and helmet, shield and spear, only
the lower part of her body being clad in the usual flowing feminine
garb.

[Illustration: FREYA.]

Freya transported the chosen slain to Folkvang, where they were duly
entertained, and where she also welcomed all pure maidens and faithful
wives, that they might enjoy the company of their lovers and husbands
even after death. The joys of her abode were so enticing to the heroic
Northern women that they often rushed into battle when their loved ones
were slain, hoping to meet with the same fate; or they fell upon their
swords, or were voluntarily burned on the same funeral pyre as the
beloved remains.

As Freya was inclined to lend a favorable ear to lovers’ prayers, she
was often invoked by them, and it was customary to indite love songs in
her honor, which were sung on all festive occasions, her very name in
Germany being used as the verb “to woo.”

[Sidenote: Freya and Odur.]

Freya, the golden-haired and blue-eyed goddess, was also, at times,
considered a personification of the earth. She therefore married Odur,
a symbol of the summer sun, whom she dearly loved, and by whom she had
two daughters, Hnoss and Gersemi, so beautiful that all things lovely
and precious were called by their names.

So long as Odur lingered contentedly at her side, Freya was smiling and
perfectly happy; but, alas! this god was a rover, and, wearying of his
wife’s company, he suddenly left home and wandered far out into the
wide world. Freya, sad and forsaken, wept abundantly, and her tears
fell down upon the hard rocks, which softened at their contact. We are
even told that they trickled down to the very center of the stones,
where they were transformed to drops of gold. The tears which fell into
the sea, however, were changed into translucent amber.

Weary of her widowed condition, and longing to clasp her beloved in her
arms once more, Freya finally started out in search of him, passing
through many lands, where she was called by different names, such as
Mardel, Horn, Gefn, Syr, Skialf, and Thrung, inquiring of all she met
whether her husband had passed that way, and shedding so many tears
that gold can be found in all parts of the earth.

 “And Freya next came nigh, with golden tears;
  The loveliest Goddess she in Heaven, by all
  Most honor’d after Frea, Odin’s wife.
  Her long ago the wandering Oder took
  To mate, but left her to roam distant lands;
  Since then she seeks him, and weeps tears of gold.
  Names hath she many; Vanadis on earth
  They call her, Freya is her name in Heaven.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Far away in the sunny South, under the flowering myrtle trees, Freya
found Odur at last, and her love being restored to her, she grew happy
and smiling once more, and as radiant as a bride. It is perhaps because
Freya found her husband beneath the flowering myrtle, that Northern
brides, to this day, wear myrtle in preference to the conventional
orange wreath.

Hand in hand, Odur and Freya now gently wended their way home once
more, and in the light of their happiness the grass grew green, the
flowers bloomed, and the birds sang, for all Nature sympathized as
heartily with Freya’s joy as it had mourned with her when she was in
sorrow.

 “Out of the morning land,
  Over the snowdrifts,
  Beautiful Freya came
  Tripping to Scoring.
  White were the moorlands,
  And frozen before her;
  Green were the moorlands,
  And blooming behind her.
  Out of her gold locks
  Shaking the spring flowers,
  Out of her garments
  Shaking the south wind,
  Around in the birches
  Awaking the throstles,
  And making chaste housewives all
  Long for their heroes home,
  Loving and love-giving,
  Came she to Scoring.”

              THE LONGBEARDS’ SAGA (Charles Kingsley).

The prettiest plants and flowers in the North were called Freya’s
hair or Freya’s eye dew, while the butterfly was called Freya’s hen.
This goddess was also supposed to have a special affection for the
fairies, whom she loved to watch dancing in the moonbeams, and for whom
she reserved her daintiest flowers and sweetest honey. Odur, Freya’s
husband, besides being considered a personification of the sun, was
also regarded as an emblem of passion, or of the intoxicating pleasures
of love; so the ancients declared that it was no wonder his wife could
not be happy without him.

As goddess of beauty, Freya was very fond of the toilet, of glittering
adornments, and of precious jewels. One day, while she was in
Svart-alfa-heim, the underground kingdom, she saw four dwarfs carefully
fashioning the most wonderful necklace she had ever seen. Almost
beside herself with longing to possess this treasure, which was called
Brisinga-men, and was an emblem of the stars, or of the fruitfulness
of the earth, Freya implored the dwarfs to give it to her; but they
obstinately refused to do so unless she would promise to grant them
her favor. Having secured the necklace at this price, Freya hastened
to put it on, and its beauty so enhanced her charms that the goddess
wore it night and day, and only occasionally could be persuaded to loan
it to the other divinities. Thor, however, wore this necklace when he
personated Freya in Jötun-heim, and Loki coveted and would have stolen
it, had it not been for the watchfulness of Heimdall.

Freya was also the proud possessor of a falcon garb, or falcon plumes,
which enabled the wearer to flit through the air like a bird; and this
garment was so invaluable that it was twice borrowed by Loki, and was
used by Freya herself when in search of the missing Odur.

 “Freya one day
  Falcon wings took, and through space hied away;
  Northward and southward she sought her
  Dearly-loved Odur.”

              FRIDTHIOF’S SAGA, TEGNÉR (Stephens’s tr.).

As Freya was also considered goddess of fecundity, she was sometimes
represented as riding about with her brother Frey in the chariot drawn
by the golden-bristled boar, scattering, with lavish hands, fruits and
flowers to gladden the hearts of all mankind. She also had a chariot
of her own, however, in which she generally traveled, which was drawn
by cats, her favorite animals, the emblems of caressing fondness and
sensuality, or the personifications of fecundity.

 “Then came dark-bearded Niörd, and after him
  Freyia, thin robed, about her ankles slim
  The gray cats playing.”

              LOVERS OF GUDRUN (William Morris).

Frey and Freya were held in such high honor throughout the North
that their names, in modified forms, are still used for “master”
and “mistress,” and one day of the week is called Freya’s day, or
Friday, even by the English-speaking race. Freya’s temples were very
numerous indeed, and were long maintained by her votaries, the last in
Magdeburg, Germany, being destroyed by order of Charlemagne.

[Sidenote: Story of Ottar and Angantyr.]

The Northern people were wont to invoke her not only for success
in love, prosperity, and increase, but also at times for aid and
protection. This she vouchsafed to all who served her truly, as is
proved by the story of Ottar and Angantyr, two men who, after disputing
for some time concerning their rights to a certain piece of property,
laid their quarrel before the Thing. In that popular assembly it was
soon decreed that the man who could prove that he had the longest line
of noble ancestors would be the one to win, and a special day was
appointed to hear the genealogy of each claimant.

[Illustration: THE WITCHES’ DANCE (VALPURGISNACHT)--Von Kreling.]

Ottar, unable to remember the names of more than a few of his
progenitors, offered up sacrifices to Freya, entreating her aid. The
goddess graciously heard his prayer, appeared before him, changed
him into a boar, and rode off upon his back to the dwelling of the
sorceress Hyndla, the most renowned witch of the day. By threats and
entreaties, Freya compelled this old woman to trace Ottar’s genealogy
back to Odin, naming every individual in turn, and giving a synopsis
of his achievements. Then, fearing lest her votary’s memory should
prove treacherous, Freya further compelled Hyndla to brew a potion of
remembrance, which she gave him to drink.

 “He shall drink
  Delicious draughts.
  All the gods I pray
  To favor Ottar.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Thus prepared, Ottar presented himself before the Thing on the
appointed day, glibly recited his pedigree, and by naming many more
ancestors than Angantyr could recollect, obtained possession of the
property he coveted.

 “A duty ’tis to act
  So that the young prince
  His paternal heritage may have
  After his kindred.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Freya was so beautiful that all the gods, giants, and dwarfs longed for
her love and in turn tried to secure her as wife. But Freya scorned
the ugly old giants and refused to belong even to Thrym, when urged
to accept him by Loki and Thor. She was not so obdurate where the
gods themselves were concerned, if the various mythologists are to be
believed, for as the personification of the earth she is said to have
married Odin, the sky, Frey, the fruitful rain, Odur, the sunshine,
etc., until it seems as if she deserved the accusation hurled against
her by the arch-fiend Loki, of having loved and married all the gods in
turn.

[Sidenote: Worship of Freya.]

It was customary on solemn occasions to drink Freya’s health with
that of the other gods, and when Christianity was introduced in the
North this toast was transferred to the Virgin or to St. Gertrude;
Freya herself, like all the heathen divinities, was declared a demon
or witch, and banished to the mountain peaks of Norway, Sweden, or
Germany, where the Brocken is pointed out as her special abode, and the
general trysting place of her demon train on Valpurgisnacht.

CHORUS OF WITCHES.

 “On to the Brocken the witches are flocking--
  Merry meet--merry part--how they gallop and drive,
  Yellow stubble and stalk are rocking,
  And young green corn is merry alive,
  With the shapes and shadows swimming by.
  To the highest heights they fly,
  Where Sir Urian sits on high--
  Throughout and about,
  With clamor and shout,
  Drives the maddening rout,
  Over stock, over stone;
  Shriek, laughter, and moan,
  Before them are blown.”

              GOETHE’S FAUST (Anster’s tr.).

As the swallow, cuckoo, and cat were held sacred to Freya in heathen
times, these creatures were supposed to have demoniacal properties,
and to this day witches are always depicted with coal-black cats close
beside them.




CHAPTER XI.

ULLER.


[Sidenote: The god of winter.]

Uller, the winter-god, is the son of Sif, and the stepson of Thor. His
father, who is never mentioned in the Northern sagas, must have been
one of the dreaded frost giants, for Uller loved the cold and delighted
in traveling all over the country on his broad snowshoes or glittering
skates. This god also delighted in the chase, and pursued his game
through the Northern forests, caring but little for ice and snow,
against which he was well protected by the thick furs in which he was
always clad.

As god of hunting and archery, he is represented with a quiver full
of arrows and a huge bow, and as the yew furnishes the best wood for
the manufacture of these weapons, it is said to have been his favorite
tree. To have a supply of suitable wood ever at hand ready for use,
Uller took up his abode at Ydalir, the vale of yews, where it was
always very damp indeed.

 “Ydalir it is called,
  Where Ullr has
  Himself a dwelling made.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

As winter-god, Uller, or Oller, as he was also called, was considered
second only to Odin, whose place he usurped during his absence in the
winter months of the year, when he exercised full sway over Asgard
and Midgard, and even, according to some authorities, took possession
of Frigga, Odin’s wife, as in the myth of Vili and Ve. But as Uller
was very parsimonious, and never bestowed any gifts upon mankind,
they gladly hailed the return of Odin, who drove his supplanter away,
forcing him to take refuge either in the frozen North or on the tops of
the Alps, where, if we are to believe the poets, he had built a summer
house into which he retreated until, knowing Odin had departed once
more, he again dared appear in the valleys.

Uller was also considered god of death, and was supposed to ride in the
Wild Hunt, and at times even to lead it. He is specially noted for his
rapidity of motion, and as the snowshoes used in the Northern regions
are sometimes made of bone, and turned up in front like the prow of a
ship, it was commonly reported that Uller had spoken magic runes over a
piece of bone, changing it into a vessel, which bore him over land or
sea at will.

Snowshoes being shield-shaped, and the ice with which he yearly
enveloped the earth acting also as a shield to protect it from harm
during the winter, won for Uller the surname of the shield-god, and as
he was thus designated he was specially invoked by all persons about to
engage in a duel or in a desperate fight.

In Christian times, St. Hubert, the hunter, was made to take his place
in popular worship, and also made patron of the first month of the
year, which was dedicated to him, and began on November 22d, as the sun
passed through the constellation of Sagittarius, the bowman.

In Anglo-Saxon, Uller was known as Vulder; but in some parts of Germany
he was called Holler and considered the husband of the fair goddess
Holda, whose fields he covered with a thick mantle of snow, to make
them more fruitful when the spring came.

By the Scandinavians, Uller, god of winter, was said to have married
Skadi, Niörd’s divorced wife, the female personification of winter and
cold, and their tastes were so very congenial that they never quarreled
in the least.

[Sidenote: Worship of Uller.]

Numerous temples were dedicated to this god in the North, and on his
altars, as well as on those of all the other gods, lay a sacred ring
upon which oaths were sworn. This ring was said to have the power of
shrinking so violently as to sever the finger of any premeditated
perjurer. The people visited Uller’s shrine, especially during the
months of November and December, to entreat him to send a thick
covering of snow all over their lands, as earnest of a good harvest;
and as he was supposed to send out the glorious flashes of light, the
aurora borealis, which illumine the Northern sky during its long night,
he was considered very nearly akin to Balder, the personification of
light.

According to other authorities, Uller was considered Balder’s special
friend, principally because he too spent part of the year in the dismal
depths of Nifl-heim, with Hel, the goddess of death. Uller was supposed
to endure a yearly banishment thither, during the summer months, when
he was forced to resign his sway over the earth to Odin, the summer
god, and there Balder came to join him at Midsummer, the date of his
disappearance from Asgard, for then the days began to grow shorter, and
the rule of light (Balder) gradually yielded to the ever encroaching
power of darkness (Hodur).




CHAPTER XII.

FORSETI.


[Sidenote: God of justice and truth.]

Son of Balder, god of light, and of Nanna, goddess of immaculate
purity, Forseti was the wisest, most eloquent, and most gentle of all
the gods. No sooner had his presence been made known in Asgard than the
gods awarded him a seat in the council hall, decreed that he should be
patron of justice and righteousness, and gave him as abode the radiant
palace Glitnir. This dwelling had a silver roof, supported on pillars
of gold, and shone so brightly that it could be seen from a great
distance.

 “Glitner is the tenth;
  It is on gold sustained,
  And also with silver decked.
  There Forseti dwells
  Throughout all time,
  And every strife allays.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Here, upon an exalted throne, Forseti, the lawgiver, sat day after
day, settling the differences of gods and men, patiently listening to
both sides of every question, and finally pronouncing a sentence which
was so very equitable that none ever found fault with his decrees.
Such were this god’s eloquence and his power of persuasion that he
always succeeded in touching his hearers’ hearts, and never failed to
reconcile even the most bitter foes. All who left his presence were
thereafter sure to live in peace, for none dared break a vow once made
to him, lest they should incur his just anger and immediately fall down
dead.

 “Forsete, Balder’s high-born son,
    Hath heard mine oath;
  Strike dead, Forset’, if e’er I’m won
    To break my troth.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

As god of justice and eternal law, Forseti was supposed to preside over
every judicial assembly, was invariably appealed to by all who were
about to undergo a trial, and it was said that he rarely failed to help
the deserving.

[Sidenote: The story of Heligoland.]

On one occasion the Frisians selected twelve of their wisest men, the
Asegeir, or elders, and bade them collect all the laws of the various
families and tribes composing their nation, to compile from them a code
which should enable them to have uniform laws throughout all the land,
and to render justice more easily. The elders, having painstakingly
finished their task of collecting this miscellaneous information,
embarked upon a small vessel, to seek some secluded spot where they
might hold their deliberations in peace. But no sooner had they pushed
away from shore than a tempest arose, driving their vessel far out to
sea and whirling it around, until they entirely lost their bearings. In
their distress the twelve jurists called upon Forseti, begging him to
help them reach land once more, and this prayer was scarcely ended when
they perceived, to their utter surprise, that the vessel contained a
thirteenth passenger.

Seizing the rudder, the newcomer silently brought the vessel around,
steered it towards the place where the waves dashed highest, and in
an incredibly short space of time brought them to an island, where
he motioned to them to disembark. In awe-struck silence the twelve
men obeyed; but their surprise was further excited when they saw the
stranger fling his battle ax at a distance, and a limpid spring gush
forth from the spot on the greensward where it had struck. Imitating
the stranger, all drank of this water without saying a word; then they
sat down in a circle, marveling because the newcomer resembled each one
of them in some particular, but was still very different from them all.

Suddenly the silence was broken, and the stranger began to speak in low
tones, which grew firmer and louder, as he clearly expounded a code
of laws which combined all the good points of the various existing
regulations. This speech being finished, he vanished as suddenly and
mysteriously as he had appeared, and the twelve jurists, recovering the
power of speech, simultaneously exclaimed that Forseti himself had been
among them, and had drawn up the code of laws by which the Frisians
would henceforth be ruled. In commemoration of the god’s appearance
they declared that the island upon which they stood was holy, and laid
a solemn curse upon any who might dare to desecrate it by quarrel or
bloodshed. This island, known as Forseti’s land or Heligoland (holy
land), was greatly respected by all the Northern nations, and even the
boldest vikings refrained from raiding its shores, lest they should
suffer shipwreck or shameful death in punishment for this crime.

Solemn judicial assemblies were frequently held upon this sacred isle,
the jurists always drawing water and drinking it in silence, in memory
of Forseti’s visit there. The waters of his spring were, moreover,
considered so holy that all who drank of them were pronounced sacred,
and even the cattle who had tasted of them could not be slain. As
Forseti was said to hold his assizes in spring, summer, and autumn,
but never in winter, it soon became customary, in all the Northern
countries, to dispense justice in those seasons, the people declaring
that it was only when the light shone clearly in the heavens that right
could become apparent to all, and that it would be utterly impossible
to render an equitable verdict during the dark winter season. Forseti
is seldom mentioned except in connection with Balder. He apparently has
no share whatever in the closing battle in which all the other gods
play such prominent parts.




CHAPTER XIII.

HEIMDALL.


Odin was once walking along the seashore when he beheld nine beautiful
giantesses, the wave maidens, Gialp, Greip, Egia, Augeia, Ulfrun,
Aurgiafa, Sindur, Atla, and Iarnsaxa, sound asleep on the white sand.
To secure possession of these charming girls was not much trouble for
the god of the sky, who married all nine of them at once, and was very
happy indeed when they simultaneously bore him a son called Heimdall.

 “Born was I of mothers nine,
  Son I am of sisters nine.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

The nine mothers now proceeded to nourish this babe on the strength
of the earth, the moisture of the sea, and the heat of the sun, which
singular diet proved so strengthening that the new god acquired his
full growth in a remarkably short space of time, and hastened to join
his father in Asgard. There he found the gods proudly contemplating the
rainbow bridge Bifröst, which they had just constructed out of fire,
water, and air, which three materials can still plainly be seen in its
long arch, where glow the three primary colors: the red representing
the fire, the blue the air, and the green the cool depths of the sea.

[Sidenote: Guardian of the rainbow.]

Fearing lest their enemies, the frost giants, should make their way
over this bridge, which, connecting heaven and earth, ended under the
shade of the mighty world tree Yggdrasil, close beside the fountain
where Mimir kept guard, the gods bade the white-clad Heimdall watch it
night and day.

 “Bifröst i’ th’ east shone forth in brightest green;
  On its top, in snow-white sheen,
  Heimdal at his post was seen.”

              OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

To enable their watchman to detect the approach of any enemy from afar,
the assembled gods gifted him with very keen senses, for he is said to
have been able to hear the grass grow on the hillside, and the wool on
the sheep’s back, to see plainly one hundred miles off by night as well
as by day, and to have required less sleep than a bird.

 “’Mongst shivering giants wider known
  Than him who sits unmoved on high,
  The guard of heaven, with sleepless eye.”

              LAY OF SKIRNER (Herbert’s tr.).

Heimdall was further provided with a flashing sword and a marvelous
trumpet, called Giallar-horn, which the gods bade him blow whenever he
saw their enemies draw near, declaring that its sound would rouse all
creatures in heaven, earth, and Nifl-heim; would announce that the last
day had come and that the great battle was about to be fought.

 “To battle the gods are called
  By the ancient
  Gjallar-horn.
  Loud blows Heimdall,
  His sound is in the air.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

To keep this instrument, which was a symbol of the moon crescent, ever
at hand, Heimdall either hung it on a branch of Yggdrasil above his
head or sank it in the waters of Mimir’s well, where it lay side by
side with Odin’s eye, which was an emblem of the moon at its full.

Heimdall’s palace, called Himinbiorg, was placed on the highest
point of the bridge, and here the gods often visited him to quaff the
delicious mead which he set before them.

 “’Tis Himminbjorg called
  Where Heimdal, they say,
  Hath dwelling and rule.
  There the gods’ warder drinks,
  In peaceful old halls,
  Gladsome the good mead.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Heimdall, always clad in resplendent white armor, was therefore called
the bright god, as well as the light, innocent, and graceful god, all
which titles he fully deserved, for he was as good as beautiful, and
all the gods loved him. Connected on his mothers’ side with the sea, he
was sometimes counted among the Vanas; and as the ancient Northerners,
and especially the Icelanders, to whom the surrounding sea appeared
the most important element, fancied that all things had risen out of
it, they attributed to him a knowledge of all things and imagined him
particularly wise.

 “Then said Heimdall,
  Of Æsir the brightest--
  He well foresaw
  Like other Vanir.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

This god was further distinguished by his golden teeth, which
flashed when he smiled, and won for him the surname of Gullin-tani
(golden-toothed). He was also the proud possessor of a swift,
golden-maned steed called Gull-top, which bore him to and fro over
the quivering rainbow bridge. This he crossed many times a day, but
particularly in the early morn, when he was considered a herald of the
day and bore the name of Heim-dellinger.

 “Early up Bifröst
  Ran Ulfrun’s son,
  The mighty hornblower
  Of Himinbiorg.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Loki and Freya.]

Owing to his extreme acuteness of hearing, Heimdall was greatly
disturbed one night by hearing soft, catlike footsteps in the direction
of Freya’s palace, Folkvang. Gazing fixedly towards that side with his
eagle eyes, Heimdall soon perceived, in spite of the darkness, that
the sound was produced by Loki, who stealthily entered the palace as a
fly, stole to Freya’s bedside, and strove to purloin her shining golden
necklace Brisinga-men, the emblem of the fruitfulness of the earth.

As it happened, however, the goddess had turned in her sleep in such
a way that he could not possibly unclasp the necklace without awaking
her. Loki stood hesitatingly by the bedside for a few moments, and then
rapidly began to mutter the runes which enabled the gods to change
their form at will. As he was doing this, Heimdall saw him shrivel up
until he was changed to the size and form of a flea, when he crept
under the bedclothes and bit Freya’s side, thus making her change her
position without really rousing her.

The clasp was now free, and Loki, cautiously unfastening it, secured
the coveted ornament, with which he proceeded to steal away. Heimdall
immediately started out in pursuit of the midnight thief, and drawing
his sword from its scabbard, was about to cut off his head when the
god suddenly transformed himself into a flickering blue flame. Quick
as thought, Heimdall changed himself into a cloud and sent down a
deluge of rain to quench the fire; but Loki as promptly altered his
form to that of a huge polar bear, and opened wide his jaws to swallow
the water. Heimdall, nothing daunted, then assumed the form of a bear
also, and fought fiercely with him; but the combat threatening to end
disastrously for Loki, he changed himself into a seal, and, Heimdall
imitating him, a last struggle took place, at the end of which Loki,
vanquished, was forced to give up the necklace, which was duly restored
to Freya.

In this myth, Loki is an emblem of the drought, or of the baleful
effects of the too ardent heat of the sun, which comes to rob the
earth (Freya) of its most cherished ornament (Brisinga-men). Heimdall
is a personification of the gentle rain and dew, which, after
struggling for a while with his foe the drought, manages to conquer him
and force him to relinquish his prize.

[Sidenote: Heimdall’s names.]

Heimdall has several other names, among which we find those of
Hallinskide and Irmin, for at times he takes Odin’s place and is
identified with that god, as well as with the other sword-gods, Er,
Heru, Cheru, and Tyr, who are all noted for their shining weapons.
He, however, is most generally known as warder of the rainbow, god of
heaven, and of the fruitful rains and dews which bring refreshment to
the earth.

This god also shared with Bragi the honor of welcoming heroes to
Valhalla, and, under the name of Riger, was considered the ancestor of
the various classes which compose the human race, as is set forth in
the following myth:

 “Sacred children,
  Great and small,
  Sons of Heimdall!”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The story of Riger.]

One day Heimdall left his place in Asgard to wander down upon the earth
as the gods were wont to do. He had not gone very far ere he came to
a poor hut on the seashore, where he found Ai (great grandfather) and
Edda (great grandmother), a poor but worthy couple, who hospitably
invited him to share their meager meal of porridge. Heimdall, who gave
his name as Riger, gladly accepted this invitation, and remained with
them three whole days, teaching them many things. At the end of that
time he left them to resume his journey. Some time after his visit,
Edda bore a dark-skinned, thickset male child, whom she called Thrall.

Thrall soon showed uncommon physical strength and a great aptitude for
all heavy work; and having attained marriageable age, he took to wife
Thyr, a heavily built girl with sunburnt hands and flat feet, who
labored early and late, and bore him many children, from whom all the
Northern serfs or thralls are descended.

 “They had children,
  Lived and were happy;

         *       *       *       *       *

  They laid fences,
  Enriched the plow-land,
  Tended swine,
  Herded goats,
  Dug peat.”

              RIGSMÁL (Du Chaillu’s version).

Riger, in the mean while, had pursued his journey, and leaving the
barren seacoast had pushed inland, where ere long he came to cultivated
fields and a thrifty farmhouse. He entered, and found Afi (grandfather)
and Amma (grandmother), who hospitably invited him to sit down and
share their plain but bountiful fare.

Riger accepted this invitation also, remained three days with them,
and imparted all manner of useful knowledge to his hosts. After his
departure from their house, Amma gave birth to a blue-eyed sturdy boy,
whom she called Karl. He soon revealed great skill in all agricultural
pursuits, and married a buxom and thrifty wife named Snor, who bore him
many children, from whom all husbandmen are descended.

 “He did grow
  And thrive well;
  He broke oxen,
  Made plows;
  Timbered houses,
  Made barns,
  Made carts,
  And drove the plow.”

              RIGSMÁL (Du Chaillu’s version).

After leaving the house of this second couple, Riger went on until he
came to a hill, upon which a stately castle was perched, and here he
was received by Fadir (father) and Modir (mother), who, delicately
nurtured and luxuriously clad, received him cordially, and set before
him dainty meats and rich wines.

Riger tarried three days with them ere he returned to Himinbiorg to
resume his post as guardian of the Asa-bridge; and the lady of the
castle bore a handsome, slenderly built little son, whom she called
Jarl. This child early showed a great taste for the hunt and all
manner of martial exercises, learned to understand runes, and lived
to do great deeds of valor which brought added glory to his name and
race. Having attained manhood, Jarl married Erna, an aristocratic,
slender-waisted maiden, who ruled his household wisely and bore him
many children, all born to rule, the youngest of which, Konur, became
the first king of Denmark according to this myth, which is illustrative
of the marked sense of classes among the Northern races.

 “Up grew
  The sons of Jarl;
  They brake horses,
  Bent shields,
  Smoothed shafts,
  Shook ash spears.
  But Kon, the young,
  Knew runes,
  Everlasting runes
  And life runes.”

              RIGSMÁL (Du Chaillu’s version).




CHAPTER XIV.

HERMOD.


Another of Odin’s sons, and his special attendant, was Hermod, a bright
and beautiful young god, who was gifted with such great rapidity of
motion that he was always designated as the swift or nimble god.

 “But there was one, the first of all the gods
  For speed, and Hermod was his name in Heaven;
  Most fleet he was.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

As Hermod was so remarkably quick the gods usually employed him as
their messenger, and at a mere sign from Odin he was always ready to
speed to any part of the world. As a special mark of favor, the king
of gods gave him a magnificent corselet and helmet, which he often
donned when he took part in war, and sometimes Odin intrusted to his
care the precious spear Gungnir, bidding him cast it over the heads of
combatants about to engage in battle, and thus kindle their ardor into
murderous fury.

 “Let us Odin pray
  Into our minds to enter;
  He gives and grants
  Gold to the deserving.
  He gave to Hermod
  A helm and corselet.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

As Hermod delighted in battle, he was often called “the valiant
in combat,” and confounded with the god of the universe, Irmin;
he sometimes accompanied the Valkyrs on their ride to earth, and
frequently escorted the warriors to Valhalla, whence he was considered
the leader of the heroic dead.

 “To him spake Hermoder and Brage:
    ‘We meet thee and greet thee from all,
  To the gods thou art known by thy valor,
    And they bid thee a guest to their hall.’”

              OWEN MEREDITH.

Hermod’s distinctive attribute, besides his corselet and helmet, was
a wand or staff called Gambantein, the emblem of his office, which he
carried with him wherever he went.

[Sidenote: Hermod and the soothsayer.]

Once, oppressed by nameless fears for the future, Odin, seeing that
the Norns would not answer his questions, bade Hermod don his armor,
saddle Sleipnir, which he alone was allowed to ride, and hasten off to
the land of the Finns. This people, living in the frozen regions of the
pole, were supposed to have great occult powers, and to be able to call
up the cold storms which swept down from the North, bringing plenty of
ice and snow in their train.

The most noted among all these conjuring Finns was Rossthiof (the horse
thief), who was wont to entice travelers into his realm by magic arts,
only to rob and slay them; but although he could predict the future, he
was always very reluctant indeed to do so.

Hermod, “the swift,” had no sooner received Allfather’s directions than
he started out, riding rapidly northward, and brandishing, instead of
his own wand, Odin’s runic staff, which had the power of dispelling
all the obstacles that Rossthiof conjured up to hinder his advance.
In spite, therefore, of phantom-like monsters and of invisible snares
and pitfalls, Hermod safely reached the conjurer’s abode, and when the
giant began to attack him, soon mastered him, bound him hand and foot,
and declared he would set him free only if he promised to reveal all
that he wished to know.

Rossthiof, seeing there was no hope of escape, pledged himself to do
all the god wished, and as soon as he was free began to mutter terrible
incantations, at the mere sound of which the sun hid behind the clouds,
the earth trembled and quivered, and the storm winds howled like a pack
of hungry wolves.

Pointing to the horizon, the conjurer now bade Hermod look, and the
swift god saw a great stream of blood redden all the ground. While
he was gazing wonderingly at this stream, a beautiful woman suddenly
appeared, and a moment later a little boy stood beside her. To the
god’s amazement, this child grew with such marvelous rapidity that he
soon attained his full growth, and then only did Hermod notice that he
fiercely brandished a bow and arrows.

As Hermod was gazing fixedly upon this vision, Rossthiof began to
speak, and declared that the stream of blood portended the murder of
one of Odin’s sons, but that if the father of the gods wooed and won
Rinda, in the land of the Ruthenes (Russia), she would bear him a son
who would attain his full growth in a few hours and would soon avenge
his brother’s death.

 “Rind a son shall bear,
  In the western halls:
  He shall slay Odin’s son,
  When one night old.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Satisfied with this prophecy, Hermod returned to Asgard, where he
reported all he had seen and heard to Odin. The father of the gods thus
definitely ascertained that he was doomed to lose a son by a violent
death. He soon consoled himself, however, by the thought that another
of his descendants would avenge the murder and thereby obtain all the
satisfaction which a true Northerner ever required.




CHAPTER XV.

VIDAR.


Odin once saw and fell in love with the beautiful giantess Grid, who
dwelt in a cave in the desert, and, wooing her, prevailed upon her to
become his wife. The offspring of this union between Odin (mind) and
Grid (matter) was a son as strong as taciturn, named Vidar, whom the
ancients considered a personification of the primeval forest or of the
imperishable forces of Nature.

As the gods, through Heimdall, were intimately connected with the
sea, they were also bound by close ties to the forests and Nature in
general by Vidar, surnamed “the silent,” who was destined to survive
their destruction and rule over the regenerated earth. This god had his
habitation in Landvidi (the wide land), a palace decorated with green
boughs and fresh flowers, situated in the midst of an impenetrable
primeval forest where reigned the deep silence and solitude which he
loved.

 “Grown over with shrubs
  And with high grass
  Is Vidar’s wide land.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

This old Scandinavian conception of the silent Vidar is very grand and
poetical indeed, and was inspired by the rugged Northern scenery. “Who
has ever wandered through such forests, in a length of many miles, in a
boundless expanse, without a path, without a goal, amid their monstrous
shadows, their sacred gloom, without being filled with deep reverence
for the sublime greatness of Nature above all human agency, without
feeling the grandeur of the idea which forms the basis of Vidar’s
essence?”

[Sidenote: Vidar’s shoe.]

Vidar was tall, well made, and handsome, had a broad-bladed sword, and
besides his armor wore a great iron or leather shoe. According to some
mythologists, he owed this peculiar footgear to his mother Grid, who,
knowing that he would be called upon to fight against fire on the last
day, thought it would protect him from all injury, as her iron gauntlet
had shielded Thor in his encounter with Geirrod. But other authorities
state that this shoe was made of the leather scraps which Northern
cobblers had either given or thrown away. As it was very important that
the shoe should be large and strong enough to resist the Fenris wolf’s
sharp teeth at the last day, it became a matter of religious observance
among Northern shoemakers to give away as many odds and ends of leather
as possible.

[Sidenote: The Norns’ prophecy.]

One day, when Vidar had joined his peers in Valhalla, they welcomed
him gaily, for they all loved him and placed their reliance upon him,
for they knew he would use his great strength in their favor in time
of need. But after he had quaffed the golden mead, Allfather bade him
accompany him to the Urdar fountain, where the Norns were busy weaving
their web. When questioned by Odin concerning his future and Vidar’s
destiny, the three sisters answered oracularly each by the following
short sentences:

“Early begun.”

“Further spun.”

“One day done.”

To which their mother, Wyrd, the primitive goddess of fate, added:
“With joy once more won.” These mysterious answers would have remained
totally unintelligible to the gods, had she not gone on to explain that
time progresses, that all must change, but that even if the father
fell in the last battle, his son Vidar would be his avenger, and would
live to rule over a regenerated world, after having conquered all his
enemies.

 “There sits Odin’s
  Son on the horse’s back;
  He will avenge his father.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

At Wyrd’s words the leaves of the world tree began to flutter as if
agitated by a breeze, the eagle on its topmost bough flapped its wings,
and the serpent Nidhug for a moment suspended its work of destruction
at the roots of the tree. Grid, joining the father and son, rejoiced
with Odin when she heard that their son was destined to survive the
older gods and to rule over the new heaven and earth.

 “There dwell Vidar and Vale
  In the gods’ holy seats,
  When the fire of Surt is slaked.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

Vidar, however, said not a word, but slowly wended his way back to his
palace Landvidi, in the heart of the primeval forest, where, sitting
down upon his throne, he pondered long about eternity, futurity, and
infinity. If he fathomed their secrets he never revealed them, for the
ancients averred that he was “as silent as the grave”--a silence which
indicated that no man knows what awaits him in the life to come.

Vidar was not only a personification of the imperishability of Nature,
but he was also a symbol of resurrection and renewal, proving that new
shoots and blossoms are always ready to spring forth to replace those
which have fallen into decay.

The shoe he wore was to be his defense against the wolf Fenris, who,
having destroyed Odin, would turn all his wrath upon him, and open wide
his terrible jaws to devour him. But the old Northerners declared that
Vidar would brace the foot thus protected against the monster’s lower
jaw, and, seizing the upper, would struggle with him until he had rent
him to pieces.

As one shoe only is mentioned in the Vidar myths, some mythologists
suppose that he had but one leg, and was the personification of a
waterspout, which would suddenly rise on the last day to quench the
wild fire personified by the terrible wolf Fenris.




CHAPTER XVI.

VALI.


[Sidenote: The wooing of Rinda.]

Billing, the king of the Ruthenes, was greatly dismayed when he heard
that a great force was about to invade his kingdom, for he was too
old to fight as of yore, and his only child, a daughter named Rinda,
although she was of marriageable age, obstinately refused to choose a
husband among her many suitors, and thus give her father the assistant
he so sorely needed.

While Billing was musing disconsolately in his hall, a stranger
suddenly entered his palace. Looking up, the king beheld a middle-aged
man wrapped in a wide cloak, with a broad-brimmed hat drawn down over
his forehead to conceal the fact that he had but one eye. The stranger
courteously inquired the cause of his evident depression, and as soon
as he had learned it volunteered to command the army of the Ruthenes.

His services being joyfully accepted, Odin--for it was he--soon
won a signal victory for the aged king, and, returning in triumph,
asked permission to woo his daughter Rinda to be his wife. Billing,
hoping that his daughter would lend a favorable ear to this suitor,
who appeared very distinguished in spite of his years, immediately
signified his consent. So Odin, still unknown, presented himself before
the princess, who scornfully rejected his proposal, and rudely boxed
his ears when he attempted to kiss her.

Forced to withdraw, Odin nevertheless clung to his purpose to make
Rinda his wife, for he knew, thanks to Rossthiof’s prophecy, that none
but she could bear the destined avenger of his murdered son. Assuming
the form of a smith, Odin therefore soon came back to Billing’s
hall, fashioned costly ornaments of silver and gold, and so artfully
multiplied these precious metals that the king joyfully acquiesced when
he inquired whether he might pay his addresses to the princess. The
smith Rosterus was, however, as summarily dismissed by Rinda as the
successful old general had been; but although his ear tingled with the
force of her blow, he was more determined than ever to make her his
wife.

A third time Odin now presented himself before the capricious fair one,
disguised this time as a dashing warrior, thinking a young soldier
might perchance touch the maiden’s heart; but when he again attempted
to kiss her, she pushed him back so suddenly that he stumbled and fell
upon one knee.

 “Many a fair maiden,
  When rightly known,
  Towards men is fickle:
  That I experienced,
  When that discreet maiden I
  Strove to win:
  Contumely of every kind
  That wily girl
  Heaped upon me;
  Nor of that damsel gained I aught.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

This third insult so enraged Odin that he drew his magic rune stick out
of his breast, pointed it at Rinda, and uttered such a terrible spell
that she fell back into the arms of her attendants rigid and apparently
lifeless.

When Rinda came to life again, the suitor had disappeared, but the king
discovered with great dismay that she had entirely lost her senses
and was melancholy mad. In vain all the physicians were summoned
and all their simples tried; the maiden remained as passive and sad
as before, and her distracted father was only too glad when an old
woman called Vecha, or Vak, appeared, offering to undertake the
cure of the princess. The old woman, who was Odin in disguise, first
prescribed a footbath for the patient; but as this did not appear to
have any very marked effect, she declared she would be forced to try
a severe treatment. This could only be administered if the patient
were intrusted to her exclusive care, securely bound so that she could
not offer the least resistance. Billing, anxious to save his child,
consented to all the strange attendant proposed; and when Odin had thus
gained full power over Rinda, he compelled her to marry him, releasing
her from bonds and spell only when she had faithfully promised to be
his wife.

[Sidenote: Birth of Vali.]

The prophecy made by Rossthiof was duly fulfilled, for Rinda bore a son
named Vali (Ali, Bous, or Beav), a personification of the lengthening
days, who grew with such marvelous rapidity, that in the course of a
single day he attained his full stature. Without even taking time to
wash his face or comb his hair, this young god hastened off to Asgard
with bow and arrow to avenge the death of Balder, god of light, by
slaying his murderer, Hodur, the blind god of darkness.

 “But, see! th’ avenger, Vali, come,
  Sprung from the west, in Rinda’s womb,
  True son of Odin! one day’s birth!
  He shall not stop nor stay on earth
  His locks to comb, his hands to lave,
  His frame to rest, should rest it crave,
  Until his mission be complete,
  And Baldur’s death find vengeance meet.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

In this myth, Rinda, a personification of the hard-frozen rind of the
earth, resists the warm wooing of the sun, Odin, who vainly points out
that spring is the time for warlike exploits, and offers the adornments
of golden summer. She only yields when, after a shower (the footbath),
a thaw set in. Conquered then by the sun’s irresistible might, the
earth yields to his embrace, is freed from the spell (ice) which made
her hard and cold, and brings forth Vali the nourisher, or Bous the
peasant, who emerges from his dark hut when the pleasant days have
come. The slaying of Hodur by Vali is therefore emblematical of “the
breaking forth of new light after wintry darkness.”

Vali, who ranked as one of the twelve deities occupying seats in the
great hall of Glads-heim, shared with his father the dwelling called
Valaskialf, and was destined, even before birth, to survive the last
battle and twilight of the gods, and to reign with Vidar over the
regenerated earth.

[Sidenote: Worship of Vali.]

Vali is god of eternal light, just as Vidar of imperishable matter;
and as beams of light were often called arrows, he is always
represented and worshiped as an archer. For that reason his month
in Norwegian calendars is designated by the sign of the bow, and is
called Lios-beri, the light-bringing. As it falls between the middle
of January and of February, the early Christians dedicated this month
to St. Valentine, who was also a skillful archer, and was said, like
Vali, to be the harbinger of brighter days, the awakener of tender
sentiments, and the patron of all lovers.




CHAPTER XVII.

THE NORNS.


The Northern goddesses of fate, who were called Norns, were in nowise
subject to the other gods, who could neither question nor influence
their decrees. They were three sisters, probably descendants of the
giant Norvi, from whom sprang Nott (night). As soon as the Golden Age
was ended, and sin began to steal even into the heavenly homes of
Asgard, the Norns made their appearance under the great ash Yggdrasil,
and took up their abode near the Urdar fountain. According to some
mythologists, their purpose in coming thus was to warn the gods of
future evil, to bid them make good use of the present, and to teach
them wholesome lessons from the past.

These three sisters, whose names were Urd, Verdandi, and Skuld, were
personifications of the past, present, and future. Their principal
occupation was to weave the web of fate; daily to sprinkle the sacred
tree with water from the Urdar fountain, and to put fresh clay around
its roots, that it might remain fresh and ever green.

 “Thence come the maids
  Who much do know;
  Three from the hall
  Beneath the tree;
  One they named _Was_,
  And _Being_ next,
  The third _Shall be_.”

              THE VÖLUSPÁ (Henderson’s tr.).

Some authorities further state that the Norns kept watch over the
golden apples which hung on the branches of the tree of life,
experience, and knowledge, allowing none but Idun to pick the fruit,
which had the power of renewing the gods’ youth.

The Norns also fed and tenderly cared for the two swans swimming over
the mirror-like surface of the Urdar fountain, and from this pair of
birds all the swans on earth are supposed to be descended. At times,
it is said, the Norns themselves adopted the swan plumage to visit the
earth, or sported like mermaids along the coast and in various lakes
and rivers, appearing to mortals, from time to time, to foretell the
future or give them valuable advice.

[Sidenote: Their weaving.]

The Norns sometimes wove such large webs that one of the weavers stood
on a high mountain in the extreme east, while another waded far out
into the western sea. The threads of their woof resembled cords, and
varied greatly in hue, according to the nature of the events about to
occur, and a black thread, tending from north to south, was invariably
considered an omen of death. As these sisters flashed the shuttle to
and fro, they chanted a solemn song. They seemed not to weave according
to their own wishes, but blindly, as if reluctantly executing the
wishes of Orlog, the eternal law of the universe, an older and superior
power, who apparently had neither beginning nor end.

Two of the Norns, Urd and Verdandi, seemed very beneficent indeed,
while the third relentlessly undid their work, and often, when it was
nearly finished, tore it angrily to shreds, scattering the remnants
to the winds of heaven. As personifications of time, the Norns were
represented as sisters of different ages and characters, Urd (Wurd,
weird) appearing very old and decrepit, continually looking backward,
as if absorbed in contemplating past events and people; Verdandi, the
second sister, young, active, and fearless, looked straight before
her, while Skuld, the type of the future, was generally represented as
closely veiled, with head turned in the opposite direction from that
where Urd was gazing, and holding a book or scroll which had not yet
been opened or unrolled.

These Norns were daily visited by the gods, who loved to consult them;
and even Odin himself frequently rode down to the Urdar fountain to
bespeak their aid, for they generally answered all his questions,
maintaining silence only about his own fate and that of his fellow gods.

 “Rode he long and rode he fast.
    First beneath the great Life Tree,
    At the sacred Spring sought he
  Urdar, Norna of the Past;
  But her backward seeing eye
  Could no knowledge now supply.
  Across Verdandi’s page there fell
  Dark shades that ever woes foretell;
  The shadows which ’round Asgard hung
  Their baleful darkness o’er it flung;
  The secret was not written there
  Might save Valhal, the pure and fair.
  Last youngest of the sisters three,
  Skuld, Norna of Futurity,
  Implored to speak, stood silent by,--
  Averted was her tearful eye.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

[Sidenote: Other guardian spirits.]

Besides these three principal Norns there were many others, far less
important, who seem to have been the guardian spirits of mankind, to
whom they frequently appeared, lavishing all manner of gifts upon their
favorites, and seldom failing to be present at births, marriages, and
deaths.

 “Oh, manifold is their kindred, and who shall tell them all?
  There are they that rule o’er men folk, and the stars that
          rise and fall:

         *       *       *       *       *

  They love and withhold their helping, they hate and refrain the blow;
  They curse and they may not sunder, they bless and they shall not
          blend;
  They have fashioned the good and the evil, they abide the change
          and the end.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

[Sidenote: Story of Nornagesta.]

On one occasion the Norns wandered off to Denmark, and entered the
dwelling of a nobleman just as his first child came into the world.
Entering the apartment where the mother lay, the first Norn promised
that the child should be handsome and brave, and the second that he
should be prosperous and a great scald--predictions which filled the
parents’ hearts with joy and greatly surprised the neighbors, who,
crowding in to see the strangers, rudely pushed the third Norn off her
chair.

Angry at this insult, Skuld proudly rose and declared her sisters’
gifts would be of no avail, as she decreed that the child should live
only as long as the taper then burning near the bedside. These ominous
words filled the mother’s heart with terror, and she tremblingly
clasped her babe closer to her breast, for the taper was nearly burned
out and its extinction could not be very far off. The eldest Norn,
however, had no intention of seeing her prediction thus set at naught;
but as she could not force her sister to retract her words, she quickly
seized the taper, put out the light, and giving the smoking stump to
the child’s mother, bade her carefully treasure it, and never light it
again until her son was weary of life.

 “In the mansion it was night:
  The Norns came,
  Who should the prince’s
  Life determine.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

This child was called Nornagesta, in honor of the Norns, and grew up to
be as beautiful, brave, and talented as any mother could wish. When he
was old enough to comprehend the gravity of the trust, his mother told
him the story of the Norns’ visit, and placed in his hands the candle
end, which he treasured for many a year, placing it for safekeeping
inside of the frame of his harp. When his parents were dead, Nornagesta
wandered from place to place, taking part and distinguishing himself
in every battle, singing his heroic lays wherever he went. As he was
of an enthusiastic and poetic temperament, he did not soon become weary
of life, and while the other heroes grew wrinkled and old, he remained
young at heart and vigorous in frame. He therefore witnessed all the
deeds of the heroic ages, was the boon companion of all the ancient
warriors, and, after living three hundred years, saw the belief in the
old heathen gods gradually supplanted by the teachings of Christian
missionaries. Finally Nornagesta came to the court of King Olaf
Tryggvesson, who, according to his usual custom, converted him almost
by force, and made him receive baptism. Then, wishing to convince his
people that the time for superstition was past, the king forced the
aged scald to produce and light the taper which he had so carefully
guarded for more than three centuries.

In spite of his recent conversion, Nornagesta anxiously watched the
flame, and as it flickered and went out, he sank lifeless to the
ground, proving that, in spite of the baptism just received, he still
believed the words of the Norns.

In the middle ages, and even later, the Norns figure in many a story or
myth, appearing as fairies or witches, as, for instance, in the tale of
“the Sleeping Beauty,” and in Shakespeare’s tragedy of “Macbeth.”

 “_1st Witch._  When shall we three meet again,
                In thunder, lightning, or in rain?

  _2d Witch._  When the hurlyburly’s done,
                When the battle’s lost and won:

  _3d Witch._  That will be ere the set of sun.”

              MACBETH (Shakespeare).

[Sidenote: The Vala.]

Sometimes the Norns bore the name of Vala, or prophetesses, for they
had the power of divination--a power which was held in great honor by
all the Northern races, who believed it restricted to the female sex.
The predictions of the Vala were never questioned, and it is even said
that Drusus, the Roman general, was so terrified by the appearance
of Veleda, one of these women, forbidding his crossing the Elbe, that
he actually beat a retreat. She foretold his approaching death, which
actually happened shortly after and was occasioned by a fall from his
steed.

These prophetesses, who were also known as Idises, Dises, or Hagedises,
officiated at the forest shrines and in the sacred groves, and always
accompanied invading armies. Riding ahead, or in the very midst of the
host, they vehemently urged the warriors on to victory, and when the
battle was over they often cut the bloody-eagle upon the captives. The
blood was then collected into great tubs, wherein the Dises plunged
their naked arms up to the shoulders, previous to joining in the wild
dance with which the ceremony ended.

These women were greatly feared, sacrifices were offered to propitiate
them, and it was only in later times that they were degraded to the
rank of witches, and sent to join the demon host on the Brocken, or
Blocksberg, on Valpurgisnacht.

Besides the Norns or Dises, who were also regarded as protective
deities, the Northerners ascribed to each human being a guardian spirit
named Fylgie, which attended him through life, either in a human or
animal shape, and was invisible except at the moment of death by all
except the initiated few.

The allegorical meaning of the Norns and of their web of fate is too
patent to need any explanation; still some mythologists have made them
demons of the air, and state that their web was the woof of clouds,
and that the bands of mists which they strung from rock to tree, and
from mountain to mountain, were ruthlessly torn apart by the suddenly
rising wind. Some authorities, moreover, declare that Skuld, the third
Norn, was at times a Valkyr, and at others personated the party-colored
goddess of death, the terrible Hel.




CHAPTER XVIII.

THE VALKYRS.


Odin’s special attendants, the Valkyrs, or battle maidens, were either
his daughters, like Brunhild, or the offspring of mortal kings, who
were privileged to serve this god and remain immortal and invulnerable
as long as they implicitly obeyed his orders and remained virgins.
They and their steeds were the personification of the clouds, their
glittering weapons being the lightning flashes. The ancients imagined
that they swept down to earth at Valfather’s command, to choose among
the slain the heroes worthy to taste the joys of Valhalla, and brave
enough to lend their aid to the gods when the great battle was to be
fought.

 “There through some battlefield, where men fall fast,
  Their horses fetlock-deep in blood, they ride,
  And pick the bravest warriors out for death,
  Whom they bring back with them at night to Heaven,
  To glad the gods and feast in Odin’s hall.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

[Illustration: VALKYRS RIDING TO BATTLE.--P. N. Arbo.]

These maidens, young and beautiful, with dazzling white arms and
flowing golden hair, wore helmets of silver or gold, blood-red
corselets, carried glittering spears and shields, and boldly charged
hither and thither on their mettlesome white steeds. These horses
galloped over the quivering Bifröst and through the realms of air,
carrying not only their fair riders, but the heroes slain, who were
thus immediately transported to Valhalla, after having received the
Valkyrs’ kiss of death.

[Sidenote: The clouds.]

As the Valkyrs’ steeds were also personifications of the clouds, the
people fancied that all the hoar frost and dew dropped down upon earth
from their glittering manes as they rapidly dashed to and fro through
the air.

 “He spake and his harp was with him, and he smote the strings full
          sweet,
  And sang of the host of the Valkyrs, how they ride the battle to meet,
  And the dew from the dear manes drippeth as they ride in the
          first of the sun,
  And the tree-boughs open to meet it when the wind of the dawning is
          done:
  And the deep dales drink its sweetness and spring into blossoming
          grass,
  And the earth groweth fruitful of men, and bringeth their glory to
          pass.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

The Valkyrs were not only sent to visit the battlefields upon earth,
but often rode over the sea, snatching the dying Vikings away from the
sinking vessels. Sometimes they stood upon the strand to beckon them
thither, thus warning them that the coming struggle would be their
last--a warning which every Northern hero received with joy.

 “Slowly they moved to the billow side;
    And the forms, as they grew more clear,
  Seem’d each on a tall pale steed to ride,
    And a shadowy crest to rear,
  And to beckon with faint hand
  From the dark and rocky strand,
    And to point a gleaming spear.

  “Then a stillness on his spirit fell,
    Before th’ unearthly train;
  For he knew Valhalla’s daughters well,
    The choosers of the slain!”

              VALKYRIUR SONG (Mrs. Hemans)

[Sidenote: Their number and duties.]

The number of Valkyrs differs greatly according to the various
mythologists, and ranges from three to sixteen, the greater part of
them, however, naming only nine. These Valkyrs, also divinities of the
air, were sometimes called Norns, or wish maidens, and Freya and Skuld
were often supposed to lead them on to the fray.

 “She saw Valkyries
  Come from afar,
  Ready to ride
  To the tribes of god;
  Skuld held the shield,
  Skaugul came next,
  Gunnr, Hildr, Gaundul,
  And Geir-skaugul.
  Thus now are told
  The Warrior’s Norns.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Henderson’s tr.).

The Valkyrs, as we have seen, were also very busy in Valhalla, where,
having laid aside their bloody weapons, they poured out the heavenly
mead for the Einheriar. These delighted in this beverage and welcomed
the fair maidens as warmly as when they had first seen them on the
battlefield and knew that their errand was to transport them where they
fain would be.

                “In the shade now tall forms are advancing,
  And their wan hands like snowflakes in the moonlight are gleaming;
  They beckon, they whisper, ‘Oh! strong Armed in Valor,
  The pale guests await thee--mead foams in Valhalla.’”

              FINN’S SAGA (Hewitt).

[Sidenote: Wayland, smith, and the Valkyrs.]

The Valkyrs were also supposed to own swan plumage, in which they
frequently flew down to earth, and which they threw aside when they
came near a secluded stream, so that they might indulge in a bath. Any
mortal surprising them thus, and securing their plumage, could prevent
their ever leaving the earth, and could even force these proud maidens
to mate with him if such were his pleasure.

Three of the Valkyrs, Olrun, Alvit, and Svanhvit, were once sporting
in the waters, when suddenly the three brothers Egil, Slagfinn, and
Völund, or Wayland the smith, came upon them, and securing their swan
guise forced them to remain upon earth and become their wives. The
Valkyrs, thus detained upon earth, remained with these husbands nine
years, but at the end of that time, recovering their plumage, or the
spell being broken, they effected their escape.

 “There they stayed
  Seven winters through;
  But all the eighth
  Were with longing seized;
  And in the ninth
  Fate parted them.
  The maidens yearned
  For the murky wood,
  The young Alvit,
  Fate to fulfill.”

              LAY OF VÖLUND (Thorpe’s tr.).

Two of the brothers, Egil and Slagfinn, were so lonely without their
wives that, putting on their snow shoes, they went in search of them,
disappearing in the cold and foggy regions of the North; but the third
brother, Völund, remained at home--knowing all search would be of no
avail--contemplating a ring which Alvit had given him as a love token,
and constantly hoping she would return. As he was a very clever smith,
and could manufacture the most dainty ornaments of silver and gold,
as well as magic weapons which no blow could break, he now employed
his leisure in making seven hundred rings exactly like the one which
his wife had given him. These he bound all together; but one night, on
coming home from the hunt, he found that some one had carried away one
ring, leaving all the others behind; so he fancied his wife had been
there and would soon return for good.

That selfsame night, however, he was surprised in his sleep, and bound
and made prisoner by Nidud, King of Sweden, who took possession of
his choicest sword, which he reserved for his own use, and of the
love ring made of pure Rhine gold, which latter he gave to his only
daughter, Bodvild. As for the unhappy Völund himself, he was led
captive to a neighboring island, where, after having hamstrung him to
prevent his escape, the king made him forge weapons and ornaments for
his use day after day. He also compelled him to build an intricate
labyrinth, and to this day a maze in Iceland is known as “Völund’s
house.” Völund’s rage and despair increased with every new insult
offered him by Nidud, and he thought night and day how he might effect
his revenge. During the pauses of his labor he furthermore fashioned
a pair of wings similar to those his wife had used as a Valkyr, which
he intended to don as soon as his vengeance had been accomplished, to
escape from the labyrinth on the island. One day the king came to visit
him, and brought him the stolen sword that he might repair it; but
Völund cleverly substituted another weapon so exactly like the magic
sword as to deceive the king when he came to claim it once more. A few
days after, Völund the smith enticed the king’s sons into his smithy,
slew them, and cunningly fashioned drinking vessels for Nidud out of
their skulls, and jewels out of their eyes and teeth, which he bestowed
upon their mother and sister.

 “But their skulls
  Beneath the hair
  He in silver set,
  And to Nidud gave;
  And of their eyes
  Precious stones he formed,
  Which to Nidud’s
  Wily wife he sent.
  But of the teeth
  Of the two
  Breast ornaments he made,
  And to Bodvild sent.”

              LAY OF VÖLUND (Thorpe’s tr.).

These gifts were joyfully accepted, as the royal family did not suspect
whence they came; for they fancied the youths had drifted out to sea,
where they had been drowned. Some time after this, Bodvild, wishing
to have her ring repaired, also visited the smith’s hut, where, while
waiting for it, she unsuspectingly partook of a magic drug, which sent
her to sleep and left her in Völund’s power. His last act of vengeance
accomplished, Völund donned the pair of wings which he had cunningly
fashioned to effect his escape, and grasping his sword and ring slowly
rose up in the air. He flew to the palace, and, perched there out of
reach, he confessed all his crimes to Nidud. The king, beside himself
with rage, summoned Egil, Völund’s brother, who had also fallen into
his power, and bade him use his marvelous skill as an archer to bring
down the impudent bird. Obeying a signal from Völund, Egil aimed for a
protuberance under his wing where a bladder full of the young princes’
blood was concealed, and Völund flew triumphantly away, declaring that
Odin would give his sword to Sigmund--a prediction which was duly
fulfilled.

Völund then went to Alf-heim, where, if the legend is to be believed,
he found his beloved wife once more, and lived happy with her until the
twilight of the gods.

But, even in Alf-heim, this clever smith continued to ply his trade,
and manufactured several suits of impenetrable armor, which are
described in later heroic poems. Besides Balmung and Joyeuse, Sigmund’s
and Charlemagne’s noted swords, he is reported to have fashioned Miming
for his son Heime, and many other remarkable blades.

 “It is the mate of Miming
  Of all swerdes it is king,
  And Weland it wrought,
  Bitterfer it is hight.”

              ANGLO-SAXON POETRY (Coneybeare’s tr.).

There are countless other tales of swan maidens or Valkyrs, who are
said to have consorted with mortals; but the most popular of all is
that of Brunhild, the wife of Sigurd, a descendant of Sigmund and the
most renowned of Northern heroes.




CHAPTER XIX.

HEL.


[Sidenote: Loki’s offspring.]

Hel, goddess of death, was the daughter of Loki, god of evil, and of
the giantess Angur-boda, the portender of ill. She came into the world
in a dark cave in Jötun-heim, and was closely related to the serpent
Iörmungandr and the terrible Fenris wolf, the trio being considered the
emblems of pain, sin, and death.

 “Now Loki comes, cause of all ill!
  Men and Æsir curse him still.
    Long shall the gods deplore,
    Even till Time be o’er,
  His base fraud on Asgard’s hill.
  While, deep in Jötun-heim, most fell,
  Are Fenrir, Serpent, and Dread Hel,
  Pain, Sin, and Death, his children three,
  Brought up and cherished; thro’ them he
  Tormentor of the world shall be.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Odin, having become aware of the terrible brood which Loki was
cherishing, resolved, as we have already seen, to banish them from the
face of the earth. The serpent was therefore cast into the sea, where
his writhing was supposed to cause the most terrible tempests; the wolf
Fenris was chained fast, thanks to the dauntless Tyr; and Hel or Hela,
the party-colored goddess of death, was hurled down into the depths of
Nifl-heim, where Odin gave her power over nine worlds.

          “Hela into Nifl-heim thou threw’st,
  And gav’st her nine unlighted worlds to rule,
  A queen, and empire over all the dead.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

[Sidenote: Hel’s kingdom in Nifl-heim.]

This realm, which was supposed to be situated under the earth, could
only be entered after a painful journey over the roughest roads in the
cold, dark regions of the extreme North. The gate was so far from all
human abode that even Hermod the swift, mounted upon Sleipnir, had to
journey nine long nights ere he reached the river Giöll. This formed
the boundary of Nifl-heim, over which was thrown a bridge of crystal
arched with gold, hung on a single hair, and constantly guarded by the
grim skeleton Mödgud, who made every spirit pay a toll of blood ere she
would allow it to pass.

 “The bridge of glass hung on a hair
  Thrown o’er the river terrible,--
  The Giöll, boundary of Hel.
  Now here the maiden Mödgud stood,
  Waiting to take the toll of blood,--
  A maiden horrible to sight,
  Fleshless, with shroud and pall bedight.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The spirits generally rode or drove across this bridge on the horses
or in the wagons which had been burned upon the funeral pyre with the
dead to serve that purpose, and the Northern races were very careful to
bind upon the feet of the departed a specially strong pair of shoes,
called Hel shoes, that they might not suffer during the long journey
over rough roads. Soon after the Giallar bridge was passed, the spirit
reached the Ironwood, where stood none but bare and iron-leafed trees,
and, passing through it, reached Hel-gate, beside which the fierce,
blood-stained dog Garm kept constant watch, cowering in a dark hole
known as the Gnipa cave. This monster’s rage could only be appeased by
the offering of a Hel-cake, which never failed those who had ever given
bread to the needy.

 “Loud bays Garm
  Before the Gnipa cave.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Within the gate, amid the intense cold and impenetrable darkness, was
heard the seething of the great caldron Hvergelmir, the rolling of the
glaciers in the Elivagar and other streams of Hel, among which were
the Leipter, by which solemn oaths were sworn, and the Slid, in whose
turbid waters naked swords continually rolled.

Further on in this grewsome place was Elvidner (misery), the hall of
the goddess Hel, whose dish was Hunger. Her knife was Greed. “Idleness
was the name of her man, Sloth of her maid, Ruin of her threshold,
Sorrow of her bed, and Conflagration of her curtains.”

 “Elvidner was Hela’s hall.
  Iron-barred, with massive wall;
  Horrible that palace tall!
  Hunger was her table bare;
  Waste, her knife; her bed, sharp Care;
  Burning Anguish spread her feast;
  Bleached bones arrayed each guest;
  Plague and Famine sang their runes,
  Mingled with Despair’s harsh tunes.
  Misery and Agony
  E’er in Hel’s abode shall be!”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

This goddess had many different abodes for the guests who daily came to
her, for she received not only perjurers and criminals of all kinds,
but also all those who were unfortunate enough to die without shedding
blood. To her realm also were consigned all those who died of old age
or disease--a mode of decease which was contemptuously called “straw
death,” as the beds of the people were generally of that material.

              “Temper’d hard by frost,
  Tempest and toil their nerves, the sons of those
  Whose only terror was a bloodless death.”

              THOMSON.

[Sidenote: Ideas of the future life.]

Although the innocent were treated kindly by Hel, and enjoyed a state
of negative bliss, it is no wonder that the inhabitants of the North
shrank from the thought of visiting her cheerless abode. And while
the men preferred to mark themselves with the spear points, to hurl
themselves down from a precipice, or to be burned ere life was quite
extinct, the women did not shrink from equally heroic measures. In the
extremity of their sorrow, they did not hesitate to fling themselves
down a mountain side, or fall upon the swords which were given them at
their marriage, so that their bodies might be burned with those whom
they loved and their spirits permitted to join them in the bright home
of the gods.

Further horrors, however, awaited those whose lives had been criminal
or impure, for they were banished to Nastrond, the strand of corpses,
where they waded in ice-cold streams of venom, through a cave made
of wattled serpents, whose poisonous fangs were all turned towards
them. After suffering untold agonies there, they were washed down into
the caldron Hvergelmir, where the serpent Nidhug ceased for a moment
gnawing the root of the tree Yggdrasil to feed upon their bones.

 “A hall standing
  Far from the sun
  In Nâströnd;
  Its doors are northward turned,
  Venom-drops fall
  In through its apertures;
  Entwined is that hall
  With serpents’ backs.
  She there saw wading
  The sluggish streams
  Bloodthirsty men
  And perjurers,
  And him who the ear beguiles
  Of another’s wife.
  There Nidhog sucks
  The corpses of the dead.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Pestilence and famine.]

Hel herself was supposed occasionally to leave her dismal abode to
range the earth upon her three-legged white horse, and in times of
pestilence or famine she was said to use a rake if a part of the
inhabitants escaped, and a broom when whole villages and provinces were
depopulated, as was the case during the historical epidemic of the
Black Death.

The Northern races further fancied that the spirits of the dead were
sometimes allowed to revisit the earth and appear to their relatives,
whose sorrow or joy affected them even after death, as is proved by the
Danish ballad of Aager and Else, where a dead lover bids his sweetheart
smile, so that his coffin may be filled with roses instead of the
clotted blood drops produced by her tears.

 “‘Listen now, my good Sir Aager!
    Dearest bridegroom, all I crave
  Is to know how it goes with thee
    In that lonely place, the grave?’

  “‘Every time that thou rejoicest,
    And art happy in thy mind,
  Are my lonely grave’s recesses
    All with leaves of roses lined.

  “‘Every time that, love, thou grievest,
    And dost shed the briny flood,
  Are my lonely grave’s recesses
    Filled with black and loathsome blood.’”

              BALLAD OF AAGER AND ELIZA (Longfellow’s tr.).




CHAPTER XX.

ÆGIR.


[Sidenote: God of the sea.]

Besides Niörd and Mimir, who were both ocean divinities, the one
representing the sea near the coast and the other the primeval ocean
whence all things were supposed to have sprung, the Northern races
recognized another sea-ruler, called Ægir or Hier, who dwelt either in
the cool depths of his liquid realm or had his abode on the Island of
Lessoe, in the Cattegat, or Hlesey.

 “Beneath the watery dome,
    With crystalline splendor,
    In radiant grandeur,
  Upreared the sea-god’s home.
  More dazzling than foam of the waves
  E’er glimmered and gleamed thro’ deep caves
  The glistening sands of its floor,
  Like some placid lake rippled o’er.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Ægir (the sea), like his brothers Kari (the air) and Loki (fire), is
supposed to have belonged to an older dynasty of the gods, for he
ranked neither with the Æsir, the Vanas, the giants, dwarfs, nor elves,
but was considered omnipotent within his realm.

He was supposed to occasion and quiet the great tempests which swept
over the deep, and was generally represented as a gaunt old man,
with long white beard and hair, his clawlike fingers ever clutching
convulsively, as though he longed to have all things within his grasp.
Whenever he appeared above the waves, it was only to take fiendish
delight in pursuing and overturning vessels, which he greedily dragged
down to the bottom of the sea.

[Sidenote: Ran.]

Ægir was mated with his sister, the goddess Ran, whose name means
“robber,” and who was as cruel, greedy, and insatiable as her husband.
Her favorite pastime was lurking near dangerous rocks, whither she
enticed mariners. There she spread her net, her most prized possession,
and, having entangled the men in its meshes and broken their vessels on
the jagged cliffs, she calmly drew them down into her cheerless realm.

    “In the deep sea caves
      By the sounding shore,
    In the dashing waves
      When the wild storms roar,
    In her cold green bowers
      In the Northern fiords,
    She lurks and she glowers,
      She grasps and she hoards,
  And she spreads her strong net for her prey.”

              STORY OF SIEGFRIED (Baldwin).

Ran was therefore also considered the goddess of death for all who
perished at sea, and the Northern nations fancied that she entertained
the drowned in her coral caves, where her couches were spread to
receive them, and where the mead flowed freely as in Valhalla. The
goddess was further supposed to have a great affection for gold,
which was called the “flame of the sea,” and was used to illuminate
her halls. This belief originated when the sailors first noticed the
well-known phosphorescent gleams in the deep, and to win Ran’s good
graces, they were careful to hide some gold about them whenever any
special danger threatened them on the sea.

 “Gold, on sweetheart ramblings,
  Pow’rful is and pleasant;
  Who goes empty-handed
  Down to sea-blue Ran,
  Cold her kisses strike, and
  Fleeting her embrace is--
  But we ocean’s bride be-
  Troth with purest gold.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: The Waves.]

Ægir and Ran had nine beautiful daughters, the Waves, or billow
maidens, whose snowy arms and bosoms, long golden hair, deep-blue eyes,
and willowy, sensuous forms were fascinating in the extreme. These
maidens delighted in playing all over the surface of their father’s
vast domain, lightly clad in transparent blue, white, or green veils.
They were very moody and capricious damsels, however, varying from
playful to sullen and apathetic moods, and at times exciting one
another almost to madness, tearing their hair and veils, flinging
themselves recklessly upon their hard beds, the rocks, chasing one
another with frantic haste, and shrieking aloud with joy or despair.
These maidens, however, seldom came out to play unless their brother,
the Wind, were abroad, and according to his mood they were gentle and
playful, or rough and boisterous.

The Waves were generally supposed to go about in triplets, and were
often said to play around the ships of vikings whom they favored,
smoothing away every obstacle from their course, and helping them
speedily to reach their goal.

 “And Æger’s daughters, in blue veils dight,
  The helm leap round, and urge it on its flight.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Ægir’s brewing kettle.]

In Anglo-Saxon the sea-god Ægir was known by the name of Eagor, and
whenever an unusually large wave came thundering towards the shore, the
sailors were wont to cry, as the Trent boatmen still do, “Look out,
Eagor is coming!” He was also known by the name of Hler (the shelterer)
among the Northern nations, and of Gymir (the concealer), because he
was always ready to hide things in the depths of his realm, never
revealing the secrets intrusted to his care. And, because the waters
of the sea were frequently said to seethe and hiss, the ocean was often
called Ægir’s brewing kettle or vat.

His two principal servants, noted for their quickness, were Elde and
Funfeng, emblems of the phosphorescence of the sea; they invariably
waited upon the guests whom he invited to his banquets in the depths
of the sea. Ægir sometimes left his realm to visit the Æsir in Asgard,
where he was royally entertained, and took special pleasure in Bragi’s
tales of the various adventures and achievements of the gods. Excited
by the sparkling mead and by these tales, the god on one occasion
ventured to invite all the Æsir to celebrate the harvest feast with him
in Hlesey, where he promised to entertain them in his turn.

[Sidenote: Thor and Hymir.]

Surprised at this invitation, one of them ventured to remind Ægir
that the gods were accustomed to dainty fare; but the god of the sea
declared that as far as eating was concerned they need have no care,
as he was sure he could cater to the most fastidious appetites; but
he confessed that he was not so confident about drink, as his brewing
kettle was rather small. Hearing this, Thor immediately volunteered to
procure a suitable kettle, and set out with Tyr to obtain it. The two
gods journeyed east of the Elivagar in Thor’s goat chariot, left this
conveyance at the house of the peasant Egil, Thialfi’s father, and
wended their way on foot to the dwelling of the giant Hymir, who, they
knew, owned a kettle one mile deep and proportionately wide.

 “There dwells eastward
  Of Elivagar
  The all-wise Hymir,
  At heaven’s end.
  My sire, fierce of mood,
  A kettle owns,
  A capacious cauldron,
  A rast in depth.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Only the women were at home, however, and Tyr recognized in the
eldest--an ugly old hag with nine hundred heads--his own grandmother,
while the youngest, a beautiful young giantess, his mother, hospitably
received him and his companion and gave them a drink.

After learning their errand, this woman bade Tyr and Thor hide under
some huge kettles resting upon a beam at the end of the hall, for her
husband Hymir was very hasty and often slew his would-be guests with
a single baleful glance. The gods had no sooner followed her advice
than the old giant Hymir came in. When his wife told him that visitors
had come, he frowned so portentously, and flashed such a wrathful look
towards their hiding place, that the rafter split and the kettles fell
with a crash, and were all dashed to pieces with the exception of the
largest.

 “In shivers flew the pillar
  At the Jötun’s glance;
  The beam was first
  Broken in two.
  Eight kettles fell,
  But only one of them,
  A hard-hammered cauldron,
  Whole from the column.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

The giant’s wife, however, prevailed upon him to welcome Tyr and Thor,
and slay three oxen for their refection; but he was greatly dismayed to
see the thunder-god eat two of these for his supper. Muttering that he
would have to go fishing early the next morning to secure a breakfast
for such a voracious guest, the giant fell asleep. When he went down to
the shore at dawn the next day, he was joined by Thor, who declared he
would help him. As the giant bade him secure his own bait for fishing,
Thor coolly slew his host’s largest ox, Himinbrioter (heaven breaker),
cut off its head, and, embarking with it, proceeded to row far out to
sea. In vain Hymir protested that his usual fishing ground had been
reached, and that they might encounter the terrible Midgard snake were
they to venture any farther--Thor persistently rowed on, until he
fancied they were directly above this monster.

 “On the dark bottom of the great salt lake,
  Imprisoned lay the giant snake,
  With naught his sullen sleep to break.”

              THOR’S FISHING, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Baiting his powerful hook with the ox head, Thor angled for
Iörmungandr, while the giant drew up two whales, which seemed enough
for an early morning’s meal.

As Hymir was about to propose a return, Thor suddenly felt a jerk, and
began pulling as hard as he could, for he knew by the resistance of
his prey, and the terrible storm lashed up by its writhings, that he
had hooked the Midgard snake. In his determined efforts to force him
to rise to the surface, Thor braced his feet so strongly against the
bottom of the boat that he went through it and stood on the bed of the
sea.

After an indescribable struggle, the monster’s terrible venom-breathing
head appeared, and Thor, seizing his hammer, was about to annihilate it
when the giant, frightened by the proximity of Iörmungandr, and fearing
lest the boat should sink and he become its prey, drew his knife, cut
the fishing line, and thus allowed the monster to drop back like a
stone to the bottom of the sea.

 “The knife prevails: far down beneath the main
  The serpent, spent with toil and pain,
  To the bottom sank again.”

              THOR’S FISHING, OEHLENSCHLÄGER (Pigott’s tr.).

Angry with Hymir for his inopportune interference, Thor dealt him
a blow with his hammer which knocked him overboard; but Hymir,
undismayed, waded ashore, and met him as he returned to the beach.
Hymir then took both whales, his share of the fishing, upon his back,
to carry them to the house; and Thor, wishing to show his strength
also, shouldered boat, oars, and fishing tackle, and followed him.

Breakfast being disposed of, Hymir challenged Thor to show his strength
by breaking his goblet; but although the thunder-god threw it with
irresistible force against stone pillars and walls, it remained whole
and was not even bent. In obedience to a whisper from Tyr’s mother,
however, Thor suddenly hurled it against the giant’s forehead, the
only substance tougher than itself, where it was shivered to pieces.
Hymir, having thus seen what Thor could do, told him he might have the
required kettle, which Tyr vainly tried to lift, and which Thor could
raise from the floor only after he had drawn his belt of strength up to
the very last hole.

 “Tyr twice assayed
  To move the vessel,
  Yet at each time
  Stood the kettle fast.
  Then Môdi’s father
  By the brim grasped it,
  And trod through
  The dwelling’s floor.”

              LAY OF HYMIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

The wrench with which he pulled it up, however, greatly shattered the
giant’s house and broke his floor to pieces. As Tyr and Thor were
departing, the latter having clapped the huge pot on his head in the
guise of a hat, Hymir summoned the other frost giants, and proposed
that they should slay their inveterate foe. Before they could overtake
him, Thor, turning around, became aware of their pursuit, and, hurling
Miölnir repeatedly at them, slew them all ere he carried the kettle in
triumph to Ægir to enable him to brew enough ale for the harvest feast.

The physical explanation of this myth is, of course, a thunder storm
(Thor), in conflict with the raging sea (the Midgard snake), and the
breaking up of the polar ice (Hymir’s goblet and floor) in the heat of
summer.

The gods now joyfully accepted Ægir’s invitation to be present at
his feast, went there in festive array, and were ever after wont to
celebrate the harvest home in his coral caves.

 “Then Vans and Æsir, mighty gods,
  Of earth and air, and Asgard, lords,--
  Advancing with each goddess fair,
  A brilliant retinue most rare,--
  Attending mighty Odin, swept
  Up wave-worn aisle in radiant march.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Ægir, as we have seen, ruled over all the sea with the help of the
treacherous Ran. Both of these divinities were considered cruel by
the Northern nations, who had much to suffer from the sea, which,
surrounding them on all sides, ran far into the heart of their
countries by means of the numerous fiords, and often swallowed the
ships of their vikings, with all the men on board.

                            “We Goth-folk know indeed
  That the sea is a foe full deadly, and a friend that fails at need,
  And that Ran, who dwells thereunder, will many a man beguile.”

              SIGURD THE VOLSUNG (William Morris).

[Sidenote: Other divinities of the sea.]

Besides these principal divinities of the sea, the Northern nations
believed in mermen and mermaids, the latter having swan plumage or seal
garments, which they sometimes laid for a moment upon the beach, and if
a mortal secured them he could compel the fair maidens to remain ashore.

 “She came through the waves when the fair moon shone
    (Drift o’ the wave and foam o’ the sea);
  She came where I walked on the sands alone,
    With a heart as light as a heart may be.”

              L. E. R.

There were also malignant marine monsters who were known as Nicors,
from whose name has been derived the proverbial Old Nick. Many of the
lesser water divinities had fish tails; the females bore the name of
Undines, and the males of Stromkarls, Nixies, Necks, or Neckar. These
water spirits often left their native streams, especially during the
middle ages, to appear at village dances, where they were recognized by
the wet hem of their garments. They often sat beside the flowing brook
or river, playing on a harp, or sang alluring songs while combing out
their long golden or green hair.

 “The Neck here his harp in the glass castle plays,
  And mermaidens comb out their green hair always,
  And bleach here their shining white clothes.”

              STAGNELIUS (Keightley’s tr.).

The Nixies, Undines, and Stromkarls were particularly gentle and
lovable beings, and were very anxious indeed to obtain repeated
assurances of their ultimate salvation.

Many stories are therefore told of priests or children meeting these
spirits playing by a stream, and taunting them with future damnation,
which threat turned the joyful music to pitiful wails. But when priest
or children, discovering their mistake, hastened back to the stream
and assured the green-toothed water sprites of future redemption, they
invariably resumed their happy strain.

 “Know you the Nixies, gay and fair?
  Their eyes are black, and green their hair--
    They lurk in sedgy shores.”

              MATHISSON.

[Sidenote: River nymphs.]

Besides Elf or Elb, the water sprite who gave its name to the Elbe
River in Germany, the Neck, from whom the Neckar derives its name, and
old Father Rhine, with his numerous daughters (tributary streams),
the most famous of all the lesser water divinities is the Lorelei,
the siren maiden who sits upon the Lorelei rock near St. Goar, on the
Rhine, and whose alluring song has enticed many a mariner to death. The
legends concerning this siren are very numerous indeed, one of the most
ancient being as follows:

Lorelei was an immortal, a water nymph, daughter of old Father Rhine;
during the day she dwelt in the cool depths of the river bed, but late
at night she appeared in the moonlight, sitting aloft upon a pinnacle
of rock, in full view of all who passed up or down the stream. At
times, the evening breeze wafted some of the notes of her song to the
boatmen’s ears, when, forgetting time and place in listening to these
enchanting melodies, they drifted upon the sharp and jagged rocks,
where they invariably perished.

 “Above the maiden sitteth,
    A wondrous form, and fair;
  With jewels bright she plaiteth
    Her shining golden hair:
  With comb of gold prepares it,
    The task with song beguiled;
  A fitful burden bears it--
    That melody so wild.

  “The boatman on the river
    Lists to the song, spell-bound;
  Oh! what shall him deliver
    From danger threat’ning round?
  The waters deep have caught them,
    Both boat and boatman brave;
  ’Tis Loreley’s song hath brought them
    Beneath the foaming wave.”

              SONG, HEINE (Selcher’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The Lorelei and the fisherman.]

One person only is reported to have seen the Lorelei close by, a young
fisherman from Oberwesel, who met her every evening by riverside, and
spent a few delightful hours with her, drinking in her beauty and
listening to her entrancing song. Tradition further relates that ere
they parted the Lorelei invariably pointed out the places where the
youth must cast his nets on the morrow--instructions which he always
obeyed, and which invariably brought him success.

One night the young fisherman was seen going towards the river, but as
he never returned search was made for him. No clew to his whereabouts
being found, the credulous Germans finally reported that the Lorelei
had dragged him down to her coral caves that she might enjoy his
companionship forever.

[Illustration: LORELEI AND THE FISHERMAN.--Paul Thumann.]

According to another version, the Lorelei, perching on the rocks above,
and luring the fishermen by her songs, caused so many deaths that
an armed force was once sent out at nightfall to surround and seize
her. But the water nymph used her magic to lay such a powerful spell
upon the captain and his men that they could move neither hand nor
foot. While they stood motionless around her, the Lorelei divested
herself of all her ornaments, which she flung into the waves below;
then, chanting a spell, she lured the waters up to the top of the
rock, and the soldiers saw her spring into a sea-green chariot drawn
by white-maned steeds, and drive rapidly away. A few moments later the
Rhine had subsided to its usual level, the spell was broken, and the
men recovered the power of motion, and retreated to announce how their
efforts had been baffled. Since then, however, the Lorelei has never
been seen, and the peasants declare that she still resents the insult
offered her and will no longer leave her coral caves.




CHAPTER XXI.

BALDER.


Odin and Frigga, we are told, were parents of twin sons as dissimilar
in character and physical appearance as it was possible to be; for
while Hodur, god of darkness, was somber, taciturn, and blind, like
the obscurity of sin, which he was supposed to symbolize, Balder, the
beautiful, was the pure and radiant god of innocence and light. The
snowy brow and golden locks of this Asa seemed to send out beams of
sunshine to gladden the hearts of gods and men, by whom he was equally
beloved.

 “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.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

[Sidenote: Nanna.]

Balder, attaining his full growth with marvelous rapidity, was admitted
to the council of the gods, and married Nanna (blossom), the daughter
of Nip (bud), a beautiful and charming young goddess, with whom he
lived in perfect unity and peace. He took up his abode in the palace
of Breidablik, whose silver roof rested upon golden pillars, and whose
purity was such that nothing common or unclean was ever allowed within
its precincts.

The god of light was well versed in the science of runes which were
carved on his tongue; he knew the various virtues of the simples, one
of which, the camomile, was always called “Balder’s brow,” because its
flower was just as immaculately pure as his forehead. The only thing
hidden from Balder’s radiant eyes, at first, was the perception of his
own ultimate fate.

                      “His own house
  Breidablik, on whose columns Balder graved
  The enchantments that recall the dead to life.
  For wise he was, and many curious arts,
  Postures of runes, and healing herbs he knew;
  Unhappy! but that art he did not know,
  To keep his own life safe, and see the sun.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

As Balder the beautiful was always smiling and happy, the gods were
greatly troubled when they finally saw the light die out of his blue
eyes, a careworn look come into his face, and his step grow heavy and
slow. Odin and Frigga, seeing their beloved son’s evident depression,
tenderly implored him to reveal the cause of his silent grief. Balder,
yielding at last to their anxious entreaties, confessed that his
slumbers, instead of being peaceful and restful as of yore, had been
strangely troubled of late by dark and oppressive dreams, which,
although he could not clearly remember them when he awoke, constantly
haunted him with a vague feeling of fear.

 “To that god his slumber
  Was most afflicting;
  His auspicious dreams
  Seemed departed.”

              LAY OF VEGTAM (Thorpe’s tr.).

When Odin and Frigga heard this, they were troubled indeed, but
declared they were quite sure nothing would harm their son, who was
so universally beloved. Yet, when the anxious father and mother had
returned home, they talked the matter over, acknowledged that they
also were oppressed by strange forebodings, and having learned from
the giants that Balder really was in danger, they proceeded to take
measures to avert it.

Frigga, therefore, sent out her servants in every direction, bidding
them make all living creatures, all plants, metals, stones--in fact,
every animate and inanimate thing--register a solemn vow not to do any
harm to Balder. All creation readily took the oath, for all things
loved the radiant god, and basked in the light of his smile. So the
servants soon returned to Frigga, telling her that all had been duly
sworn except the mistletoe, growing upon the oak stem at the gate of
Valhalla, which, they added, was such a puny, inoffensive thing that no
harm could be feared from it.

 “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.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The Vala’s prophecy.]

Frigga now resumed her spinning with her usual content, for she knew no
harm could come to the child she loved best of all. Odin, in the mean
while, also sorely troubled, and wishing to ascertain whether there was
any cause for his unwonted depression, resolved to consult one of the
dead Valas or prophetesses. He therefore mounted his eight-footed steed
Sleipnir, rode over the tremulous bridges Bifröst and Giallar, came to
the entrance of Nifl-heim, and, passing the Hel-gate and the dog Garm,
penetrated into Hel’s dark abode.

 “Uprose the king of men with speed,
  And saddled straight his coal-black steed;
  Down the yawning steep he rode,
  That leads to Hela’s drear abode.”

              DESCENT OF ODIN (Gray).

To his surprise, he noticed that a feast was being spread in this dark
realm, and that the couches had all been covered with tapestry and
rings of gold, as if some highly honored guest were expected before
long. Hastening on, Odin finally reached the grave where the Vala had
rested undisturbed for many a year, and solemnly began to chant the
magic spell and trace the runes which had the power of raising the dead.

 “Thrice pronounc’d, in accents dread,
  The thrilling verse that wakes the dead:
  Till from out the hollow ground
  Slowly breath’d a sullen sound.”

              DESCENT OF ODIN (Gray).

Suddenly the grave opened, and the prophetess slowly rose, inquiring
who he was and why he thus came to trouble her long rest. Odin, not
wishing her to know that he was king of the gods, replied that he was
Vegtam, Valtam’s son, and that he had awakened her to inquire for whom
Hel was spreading her couches and preparing a festive meal. In hollow
tones, the prophetess now confirmed all his fears by telling him that
the expected guest was Balder, who would shortly be slain by Hodur, his
brother, the blind god of darkness.

 “Hodur 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 I will be silent.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

But in spite of these sad tidings, and of the Vala’s evident reluctance
to answer any other questions, Odin was not yet satisfied, and
forced her to tell him who would avenge the murdered man by calling
his assassin to account--a spirit of revenge and retaliation being
considered a sacred duty among the races of the North.

Then the prophetess told him, as Rossthiof had predicted before, that
Rinda, the earth-goddess, would bear a son to Odin, and that this
divine emissary, Vali, would neither wash his face nor comb his hair
until he had avenged Balder and slain Hodur.

 “In the caverns of the west,
  By Odin’s fierce embrace comprest,
  A wondrous boy shall Rinda bear,
  Who ne’er shall 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 fun’ral pile.”

              DESCENT OF ODIN (Gray).

Having discovered this from the reluctant Vala, Odin, who, thanks to
his visit to the Urdar fountain, already knew much of the future, now
incautiously revealed some of his knowledge by inquiring who would
refuse to weep at Balder’s death. When the prophetess heard this
question, she immediately knew that it was Odin who had called her out
of her grave, and, refusing to speak another word, she sank back into
the silence of the tomb, declaring that none would ever be able to lure
her out again until the end of the world had come.

 “Hie thee hence, and boast at home,
  That never shall inquirer come
  To break my iron sleep again,
  Till Lok has burst his tenfold chain;
  Never, till substantial Night
  Has reassum’d her ancient right:
  Till wrapt in flames, in ruin hurl’d,
  Sinks the fabric of the world.”

              DESCENT OF ODIN (Gray)

Odin had questioned the greatest prophetess the world had ever known,
and had learned Orlog’s (fate’s) decrees, which he knew could not be
set aside. He therefore remounted his steed, and sadly wended his way
back to Asgard, thinking of the time, no longer far distant, when his
beloved son would no more be seen in the heavenly abodes, and when the
light of his presence would have vanished forever.

On entering Glads-heim, however, Odin was somewhat cheered when he
heard of the precautions taken by Frigga to insure their darling’s
safety, and soon, feeling convinced that if nothing would slay Balder
he would surely continue to gladden the world with his presence, he
cast aside all care and ordered games and a festive meal.

[Sidenote: The gods at play.]

The gods resumed their wonted occupations, and were soon casting their
golden disks on the green plain of Ida, which was called Idavold, the
playground of the gods. At last, wearying of this pastime, and knowing
that no harm could come to their beloved Balder, they invented a new
game and began to use him as a target, throwing all manner of weapons
and missiles at him, certain that no matter how cleverly they tried,
and how accurately they aimed, the objects, having sworn not to injure
him, would either glance aside or fall short. This new amusement was
so fascinating that soon all the gods were assembled around Balder, at
whom they threw every available thing, greeting each new failure with
prolonged shouts of laughter. These bursts of merriment soon excited
the curiosity of Frigga, who sat spinning in Fensalir; and seeing an
old woman pass by her dwelling, she bade her pause and tell what the
gods were doing to provoke such great hilarity. The old woman, who was
Loki in disguise, immediately stopped at this appeal, and told Frigga
that all the gods were throwing stones and blunt and sharp instruments
at Balder, who stood smiling and unharmed in their midst, daring them
to touch him.

The goddess smiled, and resumed her work, saying that it was quite
natural that nothing should harm Balder, as all things loved the light,
of which he was the emblem, and had solemnly sworn not to injure him.
Loki, the personification of fire, was greatly disappointed upon
hearing this, for he was jealous of Balder, the sun, who so entirely
eclipsed him and was generally beloved, while he was feared and avoided
as much as possible; but he cleverly concealed his chagrin, and
inquired of Frigga whether she were quite sure that all objects had
joined the league.

Frigga proudly answered that she had received the solemn oath of all
things, except of a harmless little parasite, the mistletoe, which
grew on the oak near Valhalla’s gate, and was too small and weak to
be feared. Having obtained the desired information, Loki toddled off;
but as soon as he was safely out of sight, he resumed his wonted
form, hastened to Valhalla, found the oak and mistletoe indicated by
Frigga, and by magic arts compelled the parasite to assume a growth and
hardness hitherto unknown.

[Sidenote: Death of Balder.]

From the wooden stem thus produced he deftly fashioned a shaft ere he
hastened back to Idavold, where the gods were still hurling missiles
at Balder, Hodur alone leaning mournfully against a tree, and taking
no part in the new game. Carelessly Loki approached him, inquired the
cause of his melancholy, and twitted him with pride and indifference,
since he would not condescend to take part in the new game. In answer
to these remarks, Hodur pleaded his blindness; but when Loki put the
mistletoe in his hand, led him into the midst of the circle, and
indicated in what direction the novel target stood, Hodur threw his
shaft boldly. Instead of the loud shout of laughter which he expected
to hear, a shuddering cry of terror fell upon his ear, for Balder the
beautiful had fallen to the ground, slain by the fatal blow.

 “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 Lok, the Accuser, gave
  To Hoder, and unwitting Hoder threw--
  ’Gainst that alone had Balder’s life no charm.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

[Illustration: BALDER]

Anxiously the gods all crowded around him, but alas! life was quite
extinct, and all their efforts to revive the fallen sun-god were vain.
Inconsolable at their loss, they turned angrily upon Hodur, whom
they would have slain had they not been restrained by the feeling that
no willful deed of violence should ever desecrate their peace steads.
At the loud sound of lamentation the goddesses came in hot haste, and
when Frigga saw that her darling was dead, she passionately implored
the gods to go to Nifl-heim and entreat Hel to release her victim, for
the earth could not live happy without him.

[Sidenote: Hermod’s errand.]

As the road was rough and painful in the extreme, none of the gods
at first volunteered to go; but when Frigga added that she and Odin
would reward the messenger by loving him most of all the Æsir, Hermod
signified his readiness to execute the commission. To help him on his
way, Odin lent him Sleipnir, and bade him good speed, while he motioned
to the other gods to carry the corpse to Breidablik, and directed them
to go to the forest and cut down huge pines to make a worthy pyre for
his son.

 “But when the Gods were to the forest gone,
  Hermod led Sleipnir from Valhalla forth
  And saddled him; before that, Sleipnir brook’d
  No meaner hand than Odin’s on his mane,
  On his broad back no lesser rider bore;
  Yet docile now he stood at Hermod’s side,
  Arching his neck, and glad to be bestrode,
  Knowing the God they went to seek, how dear.
  But Hermod mounted him, and sadly fared
  In silence up the dark untravel’d road
  Which branches from the north of Heaven, and went
  All day; and daylight waned, and night came on.
  And all that night he rode, and journey’d so,
  Nine days, nine nights, toward the northern ice,
  Through valleys deep-engulph’d by roaring streams.
  And on the tenth morn he beheld the bridge
  Which spans with golden arches Giall’s stream,
  And on the bridge a damsel watching, arm’d,
  In the straight passage, at the further end,
  Where the road issues between walling rocks.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

While Hermod was traveling along the cheerless road to Nifl-heim,
the gods hewed and carried down to the shore a vast amount of fuel,
which they placed upon the deck of Balder’s favorite vessel, Ringhorn,
constructing an elaborate funeral pyre, which, according to custom,
was decorated with tapestry hangings, garlands of flowers, vessels and
weapons of all kinds, golden rings, and countless objects of value, ere
the immaculate corpse was brought and laid upon it in full attire.

One by one, the gods now drew near to take a last farewell of their
beloved companion, and as Nanna bent over him, her loving heart broke,
and she fell lifeless by his side. Seeing this, the gods reverently
laid her beside her husband, that she might accompany him even in
death; and after they had slain his horse and hounds and twined the
pyre with thorns, the emblems of sleep, Odin, the last of the gods,
drew near.

[Sidenote: The funeral pyre.]

In token of affection for the dead and of sorrow for his loss, all laid
their most precious possessions upon his pyre, and Odin, bending down,
now added to the offerings his magic ring Draupnir. The assembled gods
then perceived that he was whispering in his dead son’s ear, but none
were near enough to hear what word he said.

These preliminaries ended, the gods now prepared to launch the ship,
but found it so heavily laden with fuel and treasures that their
combined efforts could not make it stir an inch. The mountain giants,
witnessing the sad scene from afar, and noticing their quandary, said
that they knew of a giantess called Hyrrokin, who dwelt in Jötun-heim,
and was strong enough to launch the vessel without any other aid.
The gods therefore bade one of the storm giants hasten off to summon
Hyrrokin, who soon appeared, riding a gigantic wolf, which she guided
by a bridle made of writhing live snakes. Riding down to the shore, the
giantess dismounted and haughtily signified her readiness to give them
the required aid, if in the mean while they would but hold her steed.
Odin immediately dispatched four of his maddest Berserkers to fulfill
this task; but, in spite of their phenomenal strength, they could not
hold the monstrous wolf until the giantess had thrown and bound it fast.

Hyrrokin, seeing them now able to manage her refractory steed, marched
down the beach, set her shoulder against the stern of Balder’s ship
Ringhorn, and with one mighty shove sent it out into the water. Such
was the weight of the burden she moved, however, and the rapidity with
which it shot down into the sea, that all the earth shook as if from
an earthquake, and the rollers on which it glided caught fire from
the friction. The unexpected shock almost made the gods lose their
balance, and so angered Thor that he raised his hammer and would have
slain the giantess had he not been restrained by his fellow gods.
Easily appeased, as usual--for Thor’s violence, although quick, was
evanescent--he now stepped up on the vessel once more to consecrate the
funeral pyre with his sacred hammer. But, as he was performing this
ceremony, the dwarf Lit managed to get into his way so provokingly that
Thor, still slightly angry, kicked him into the fire, which he had just
kindled with a thorn, where the dwarf was burned to ashes with the
corpses of the faithful pair.

As the vessel drifted out to sea, the flames rose higher and higher,
and when it neared the western horizon it seemed as if sea and sky were
all on fire. Sadly the gods watched the glowing ship and its precious
freight, until it suddenly plunged into the waves and disappeared; nor
did they turn aside and go back to their own homes until the last spark
of light had vanished, and all the world was enveloped in darkness, in
token of mourning for Balder the good.

 “Soon with a roaring rose the mighty fire,
  And the pile crackled; and between the logs
  Sharp quivering tongues of flame shot out, and leapt
  Curling and darting, higher, until they lick’d
  The summit of the pile, the dead, the mast,
  And ate the shriveling sails; but still the ship
  Drove on, ablaze above her hull with fire.
  And the gods stood upon the beach, and gazed;
  And while they gazed, the sun went lurid down
  Into the smoke-wrapt sea, and night came on.
  Then the wind fell with night, and there was calm;
  But through the dark they watch’d the burning ship
  Still carried o’er the distant waters, on
  Farther and farther, like an eye of fire.
  So show’d in the far darkness, Balder’s pile;
  But fainter, as the stars rose high, it flared;
  The bodies were consumed, ash choked the pile.
  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.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Sadly the gods entered Asgard, where no sounds of merriment or
feasting were heard, but all hearts were filled with despair, for they
knew the end was near, and shuddered at the thought of the terrible
Fimbulwinter, which was to herald their death.

Frigga alone cherished some hope, and anxiously watched for the return
of her messenger, Hermod the swift, who in the mean while had ridden
over the tremulous bridge, along the dark Hel-way, and on the tenth
night had crossed the rushing tide of the river Giöll. Here he was
challenged by Mödgud, who inquired why the Giallar-bridge trembled more
beneath his horse’s tread than when a whole army passed, and asked why
he, a live man, was attempting to penetrate into the dreaded realm of
Hel.

 “Who art thou on thy black and fiery horse
  Under whose hoofs the bridge o’er Giall’s stream
  Rumbles and shakes? Tell me thy race and home.
  But yestermorn five troops of dead pass’d by,
  Bound on their way below to Hela’s realm,
  Nor shook the bridge so much as thou alone.
  And thou hast flesh and color on thy cheeks,
  Like men who live, and draw the vital air;
  Nor look’st thou pale and wan, like man deceased,
  Souls bound below, my daily passers here.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Hermod explained to Mödgud the reason of his coming, and, having
ascertained that Balder and Nanna had ridden over the bridge before
him, he hastened on, until he came to the gate of hell, which rose
forbiddingly before him.

Nothing daunted by this barrier, Hermod dismounted on the smooth ice,
tightened the girths of his saddle, remounted, and burying his spurs
deep into Sleipnir’s sleek sides, he made him take a prodigious leap,
which landed him safely on the other side of Hel-gate.

 “Thence on he journey’d o’er the fields of ice
  Still north, until he met a stretching wall
  Barring his way, and in the wall a gate.
  Then he dismounted, and drew tight the girths,
  On the smooth ice, of Sleipnir, Odin’s horse,
  And made him leap the gate, and came within.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Riding onward, Hermod came at last to Hel’s banquet hall, where he
found Balder, pale and dejected, lying upon a couch, his wife Nanna
beside him, gazing fixedly at the mead before him, which he had no
heart to drink.

[Sidenote: Result of Hermod’s quest.]

In vain Hermod informed his brother that he had come to redeem him;
Balder sadly shook his head, saying that he knew he must remain in this
cheerless abode until the last day should come, but imploring him to
take Nanna back with him, as the home of the shades was no place for
such a bright and beautiful young creature. But when Nanna heard this
request she clung more closely still to her husband’s side, vowing that
nothing would ever induce her to part from him, and that she would stay
with him, even in Nifl-heim, forever.

The whole night was spent in close conversation, ere Hermod sought Hel
and implored Balder’s release. The churlish goddess listened silently
to his request, and finally declared that she would let her victim go
providing all things animate and inanimate should prove their sorrow
for his loss by shedding a tear.

 “Come then! if Balder was so dear beloved,
  And this is true, and such a loss is Heaven’s--
  Hear, how to Heaven may Balder be restored.
  Show me through all the world the signs of grief;
  Fails but one thing to grieve, here Balder stops!
  Let all that lives and moves upon the earth
  Weep him, and all that is without life weep;
  Let Gods, men, brutes, beweep him; plants and stone
  So shall I know the lost was dear indeed,
  And bend my heart, and give him back to Heaven.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Having received this answer, the ring Draupnir, which Balder sent back
to Odin, an embroidered carpet from Nanna for Frigga, and a ring for
Fulla, Hermod cheerfully made his way out of Hel’s dark realm, whence
he hoped soon to rescue Balder the good, for well he knew all Nature
sincerely mourned his departure and would shed unlimited tears to win
him back.

The assembled gods crowded anxiously around him as soon as he returned,
and when he had delivered his messages and gifts, the Æsir sent out
heralds to every part of the world to bid all things animate and
inanimate weep for Balder.

 “Go quickly forth through all the world, and pray
  All living and unliving things to weep
  Balder, if haply he may thus be won!”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

These orders were rapidly carried out, and soon tears hung from every
plant and tree, the ground was saturated with moisture, and metals and
stones, in spite of their hard hearts, wept too.

On their way home the messengers passed a dark cave, in which they saw
the crouching form of a giantess named Thok, whom some mythologists
suppose to have been Loki in disguise; when they asked her also to shed
a tear, she mocked them and fled into the dark recesses of her cave,
declaring that she would never weep and that Hel might retain her prey
forever.

 “Thok she weepeth
  With dry tears
  For Balder’s death--
  Neither in life, nor yet in death,
  Gave he me gladness.
  Let Hel keep her prey.”

              ELDER EDDA (Howitt’s version).

As soon as the returning messengers arrived in Asgard, all the gods
crowded around them to know the result of their mission; but their
faces, all alight with the joy of anticipation, soon grew dark with
despair when they heard that, as one creature refused the tribute of
tears, they should behold Balder on earth no more.

 “Balder, the Beautiful, shall ne’er
  From Hel return to upper air!
  Betrayed by Loki, _twice_ betrayed,
  The prisoner of Death is made;
  Ne’r shall he ’scape the place of doom
  Till fatal Ragnarok be come!”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The sole consolation left Odin was to fulfill the decree of fate. He
therefore departed and achieved the difficult courtship of Rinda, which
we have already described. She bore Vali, the Avenger, who, coming into
Asgard on the very day of his birth, slew Hodur with his sharp arrow.
Thus he punished the murderer of Balder according to the true Northern
creed.

The physical explanation of this myth is either the daily setting of
the sun (Balder), which sinks beneath the western waves, driven away by
darkness (Hodur), or the end of the short Northern summer and reign of
the long winter season. “Balder represents the bright and clear summer,
when twilight and daylight kiss each other and go hand in hand in these
Northern latitudes.”

 “Balder’s pyre, of the sun a mark,
  Holy hearth red staineth;
  Yet, soon dies its last faint spark,
  Darkly then Hoder reigneth.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

“His death by Hodur is the victory of darkness over light, the darkness
of winter over the light of summer; and the revenge by Vali is the
breaking forth of new light after the wintry darkness.”

Loki, the fire, is jealous of the pure light of heaven, Balder, who
alone among the Northern gods never fought, but was always ready with
words of conciliation and peace.

 “But from thy lips, O Balder, night or day,
  Heard no one ever an injurious word
  To God or Hero, but thou keptest back
  The others, laboring to compose their brawls.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

The tears shed by all things for the beloved god are symbolical of
the spring thaw, setting in after the hardness and cold of winter,
when every tree and twig, and even the stones drip with moisture; Thok
(coal) alone shows no sign of tenderness, as she is buried deep within
the dark earth and needs not the light of the sun.

 “And as in winter, when the frost breaks up,
  At winter’s end, before the spring begins,
  And a warm west wind blows, and thaw sets in--
  After an hour a dripping sound is heard
  In all the forests, and the soft-strewn snow
  Under the trees is dibbled thick with holes,
  And from the boughs the snow loads shuffle down;
  And, in fields sloping to the south, dark plots
  Of grass peep out amid surrounding snow,
  And widen, and the peasant’s heart is glad--
  So through the world was heard a dripping noise
  Of all things weeping to bring Balder back;
  And there fell joy upon the Gods to hear.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

From the depths of their underground prison, the sun (Balder) and
vegetation (Nanna) try to cheer heaven (Odin) and earth (Frigga) by
sending them the ring Draupnir, the emblem of fertility, and the
flowery tapestry, symbolical of the carpet of verdure which will again
deck the earth and enhance her charms with its beauty.

The ethical signification of the myth is no less beautiful, for Balder
and Hodur are symbols of the conflicting forces of good and evil, while
Loki impersonates the tempter.

 “But in each human soul we find
  That night’s dark Hoder, Balder’s brother blind,
  Is born and waxeth strong as he;
  For blind is ev’ry evil born, as bear cubs be,
  Night is the cloak of evil; but all good
  Hath ever clad in shining garments stood.
  The busy Loke, tempter from of old,
  Still forward treads incessant, and doth hold
  The blind one’s murder hand, whose quick-launch’d spear
  Pierceth young Balder’s breast, that sun of Valhal’s sphere!”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Worship of Balder.]

One of the most important festivals was held at the summer solstice,
or midsummer’s eve, in honor of Balder the good, for it was considered
the anniversary of his death and of his descent into the lower world.
On that day, the longest in the year, all the people congregated out
of doors, made great bonfires, and watched the sun, which in extreme
Northern latitudes merely touches the horizon ere it rises upon a new
day. From midsummer, the days gradually grow shorter, and the sun’s
rays less warm, until the winter solstice, which was called the “Mother
night,” as it was the longest in the year. Midsummer’s eve, once
celebrated in honor of Balder, is now called St. John’s day, that saint
having entirely supplanted Balder the good.




CHAPTER XXII.

LOKI.


Besides the hideous giant Utgard-Loki, the personification of mischief
and evil, whom Thor and his companions visited in Jötun-heim, the
ancient Northern nations had another type of sin, whom they called Loki
also, and whom we have already seen under many different aspects.

In the beginning, Loki, who by some mythologists is considered the
brother of Odin himself, was only the personification of the hearth
fire and of the spirit of life. But other authorities assert that Odin
and Loki were not related, and had merely gone through the Northern
form of swearing blood brotherhood.

 “Odin! dost thou remember
  When we in early days
  Blended our blood together?
  When to taste beer
  Thou dids’t constantly refuse
  Unless to both ’twas offered?”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

At first a god, Loki gradually becomes “god and devil combined,” and
ends by being an exact counterpart of the mediæval Lucifer, the prince
of lies, “the originator of deceit, and the backbiter” of the Æsir.

While Thor is the embodiment of Northern activity, Loki represents
recreation, and the close companionship early established between these
two gods shows very plainly how soon our ancestors realized that both
were necessary to the welfare of mankind. Thor is ever busy and ever in
dead earnest, but Loki makes fun of everything, until at last his love
of mischief leads him entirely astray, and he loses all love for good
and becomes utterly selfish and malevolent.

[Sidenote: Loki’s Character]

He represents evil in the seductive and seemingly beautiful form in
which it glides about through the world. On account of this deceptive
appearance the gods did not at first avoid him, but considered him one
of their number, took him with them wherever they went, and admitted
him not only to their banquets and merrymakings, but also to their
council hall, where they, unfortunately, too often listened to his
advice.

As we have already seen, Loki played a prominent part in the creation
of man, endowing him with the power of motion, and causing the blood
to circulate freely through his veins and inspire him with passions.
As personification of fire as well as of mischief, Loki (lightning) is
often seen with Thor (thunder), whom he accompanies to Jötun-heim to
recover his hammer, to Utgard-Loki’s castle, and to Geirrod’s house. It
is he who steals Freya’s necklace and Sif’s hair, and betrays Idun into
the power of Thiassi; and although he sometimes gives the gods good
advice and affords them real help, it is only to extricate them from
some predicament into which he has rashly inveigled them.

Some authorities declare that, instead of making part of the creative
trilogy (Odin, Hoenir, and Lodur or Loki), this god originally
belonged to a pre-Odinic race of deities, and was the son of the
great giant Fornjotnr (Ymir), his brothers being Kari (air) and Hler
(water), and his sister Ran, the terrible goddess of the sea. Other
mythologists, however, make him the son of the giant Farbauti, who has
been identified with Bergelmir, the sole survivor of the deluge, and
of Laufeia (leafy isle) or Nal (vessel), his mother, thus stating that
his connection with Odin was only that of the Northern oath of good
fellowship.

Loki (fire) first married Glut (glow), who bore him two daughters,
Eisa (embers) and Einmyria (ashes); it is therefore very evident that
Norsemen considered him emblematic of the hearth fire, and when the
flaming wood crackles on the hearth the good-wives in the North are
still wont to say that Loki is beating his children. Besides this
wife, Loki is also said to have married the giantess Angur-boda (the
anguish-boding), who dwelt in Jötun-heim, and, as we have already seen,
bore him the three monsters, Hel, goddess of death, the Midgard snake
Iörmungandr, and the grim wolf Fenris.

 “Loki begat the wolf
  With Angur-boda.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Sigyn.]

Loki’s third marriage was with Sigyn, who proved a most loving and
devoted wife, and bore him two sons, Narve and Vali, the latter a
namesake of the god who avenged Balder. Sigyn was always faithful to
her husband, never forsook him, and stood beside him even after he had
definitely been cast out of Asgard and bound in punishment for his sins.

As Loki was the embodiment of evil in the minds of the Northern races,
they felt nothing but fear of him, built no temples in his honor,
offered no sacrifices to him, and designated the most noxious weeds
by his name. The quivering, overheated atmosphere of summer was also
supposed to betoken his presence, for the people were then wont to
remark that Loki was sowing his oats, and when the sun drew water they
said Loki was drinking.

The story of Loki is so inextricably woven in with that of the other
gods that most of the myths relating to him have already been told,
and there remain but two episodes of his life to relate, one showing
his good side before he had degenerated into the arch deceiver, and
the other illustrating how he finally induced the gods to defile their
peace steads by willful murder.

[Sidenote: Skrymsli and the peasant’s child.]

A giant and a peasant were playing a game together one day (probably a
game of chess, which was a favorite winter pastime with the Northern
vikings). They of course determined to play for certain stakes, and
the giant, coming off victor, won the peasant’s only son, whom he said
he would come and claim on the morrow unless the parents could hide
him so cleverly that he could not find him.

[Illustration: LOKI AND SIGYN.--Carl Gebhardt.]

Knowing that such a feat would be impossible for them to perform, the
parents fervently prayed Odin to help them, and in answer to these
entreaties the god came down to earth, took the boy, and changed him
into a tiny grain of wheat, which he hid in an ear of grain in the
midst of a large field, declaring that the giant would never find him.
The giant Skrymsli, however, was very wise indeed, and, failing to find
the child at home, strode off to the field with his scythe, mowed down
the grain, and selected the particular ear where the boy was hidden.
Counting over the grains of wheat he was about to lay his hand upon
the right one when Odin, hearing the child’s cry of distress, suddenly
snatched the kernel out of the giant’s hand, and restored the boy to
his parents, telling them that he had done all in his power to help
them. But, as the giant vowed he had been cheated, and would claim his
prey on the morrow unless the parents could outwit him, the unfortunate
peasants now applied to Hoenir. He changed the boy into a bit of
down, which he hid in the breast of a swan swimming in a pond close
by. Skrymsli, the giant, coming up a few minutes later, and guessing
what had occurred, caught the swan, bit off its neck, and would have
swallowed the down, had not Hoenir interfered, wafted it away from his
lips and out of reach, restoring the boy safe and sound to his parents,
but warning them that he could never aid them again.

Skrymsli having told the parents that he would make a third attempt
to secure the child, they now applied in despair to Loki, who carried
the boy out to sea, and concealed him, as a tiny egg, in the roe of a
flounder. Returning from his expedition, Loki encountered the giant
near the shore, and seeing he was bent upon a fishing excursion,
insisted upon accompanying him to interfere in case of need. Skrymsli
baited his hook, angled awhile, caught several fishes, and finally
drew up the identical flounder in which Loki had concealed his little
charge. Opening the fish upon his knee, the giant proceeded to count
over every egg in the roe, until he found the one which he was
seeking; but Loki snatched it out of his grasp, set the child ashore,
and secretly bade him run home, passing through the boathouse and
closing the door behind him. The terrified boy obeyed, and the giant,
in close pursuit, dashed into the boathouse, where Loki had cunningly
placed a sharp spike, which pierced his head. The giant sank to the
ground with a groan, and Loki, seeing him helpless, cut off one of his
legs. Imagine the god’s dismay, however, when he saw the pieces join
and immediately knit together. Recognizing that magic was at work, Loki
cut off the other leg, promptly throwing flint and steel between the
severed limb and trunk, and thereby hindering any further sorcery. The
peasants, perceiving that their enemy was slain by Loki’s agency, ever
after considered this god the mightiest of all the heavenly council,
for he had delivered them from their foe forever, while the others had
only lent temporary aid.

[Sidenote: The giant architect.]

In spite of Bifröst, the tremulous way, and of the watchfulness of
Heimdall, the gods could not feel entirely secure in Asgard, and were
often afraid lest the frost giants should make their way into their
midst. To obviate this possibility, they finally decided to build
an impregnable fortress; and while they were planning how this work
could be executed, an unknown architect appeared among them, offering
to undertake the construction, provided the gods would give him sun,
moon, and Freya, goddess of youth and beauty, as reward. The gods were
at first inclined to demur; but, urged by Loki, they finally told the
architect that the guerdon should be his, provided the fortress were
finished in the course of a single winter, and that he accomplished the
work with no other assistance than that of his horse Svadilfare.

 “To Asgard came an architect,
  And castle offered to erect,--
      A castle high
      Which should defy
  Deep Jötun guile and giant raid;
  And this most wily compact made:
  Fair Freya, with the Moon and Sun,
  As price the fortress being done.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The unknown architect submitted to these conditions, and immediately
began his work, hauling ponderous blocks of stone by night, building
during the day, and advancing so rapidly that the gods’ attention was
attracted to the work. Ere long they perceived that more than half the
labor was accomplished by the wonderful steed Svadilfare, and trembled
when they saw, near the end of winter, that the work was all finished
except one portal, which they knew the architect could easily erect
during the night.

 “Horror and fear the gods beset;
    Finished almost the castle stood!
      In three days more
      The work be o’er;
    Then must they make their contract good,
  And pay the awful debt.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

Terrified lest they should be called upon to part, not only with the
sun and moon, but also with Freya, the personification of all the
youth and beauty of the world, the gods sought Loki, and threatened to
kill him unless he devised some means of hindering the architect from
finishing the work within the specified time.

Changing himself into a mare, at nightfall, Loki rushed out of the
forest, and neighed invitingly as Svadilfare passed by, painfully
dragging one of the great blocks of stone required for the termination
of the work. In a trice the horse kicked his harness to pieces and ran
after the mare, closely pursued by his angry and gesticulating master.
Loki, the mare, artfully lured horse and master deeper and deeper into
the forest, until the night was nearly gone, and it was impossible to
finish the work. Discovering the fraud, the architect (a redoubtable
Hrim-thurs, in disguise) now returned to Asgard in a towering rage,
and, assuming his wonted proportions, would have annihilated all the
gods had not Thor suddenly confronted him, and slain him by hurling
his magic hammer Miölnir full in his face.

The gods having saved themselves on this occasion only through fraud
and by perjury, this murder brought great sorrows upon them, and
eventually brought about their downfall and hastened the coming of
Ragnarok. Loki, however, felt no remorse for what he had done, and
in due time it is said he became the parent of an eight-footed steed
called Sleipnir, which, as we have seen, was Odin’s favorite mount.

 “But Sleipnir he begat
  With Svadilfari.”

              LAY OF HYNDLA (Thorpe’s tr.)

Loki performed so many evil deeds during his career that he richly
deserved the title of “arch deceiver” which was given him. He was
generally hated for his subtle malicious ways, and for an inveterate
habit of prevarication which won for him also the title of “prince of
lies.”

[Sidenote: Loki’s last crime.]

The last crime which he committed, and the one which filled his measure
of iniquity, was to induce Hodur to throw the fatal mistletoe at
Balder, whom he hated merely on account of his immaculate purity. Had
it not been for his obduracy as Thok, perhaps even this crime might
have been condoned; but the gods, seeing that nothing but evil remained
within him, refused to allow him to remain in Asgard, and unanimously
pronounced the sentence of perpetual banishment upon him.

To divert the gods’ sadness and make them, for a short time, forget the
treachery of Loki and the loss of Balder, Ægir, god of the sea, invited
them all to partake of a banquet in his coral caves at the bottom of
the sea.

 “Now, to assuage the high gods’ grief
  And bring their mourning some relief,
      From coral caves
      ’Neath ocean waves,
      Mighty King Ægir
      Invited the Æsir
      To festival
      In Hlesey’s hall;
  That, tho’ for Baldur every guest
      Was grieving yet,
      He might forget
  Awhile his woe in friendly feast.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The gods gladly accepted the invitation, and donning their richest
garb, and wreathing their faces with festive smiles, they appeared in
the coral caves at the appointed time. All were present except the
radiant Balder, for whom they heaved many a regretful sigh, and the
evil Loki, whom none could regret. In the course of the feast, however,
this last-named god appeared in their midst like a dark shadow, and
when told to depart, gave vent to his rage by vilifying all the gods.

 “Of the Æsir and the Alfar
  That are here within
  Not one has a friendly word for thee.”

              ÆGIR’S COMPOTATION, OR LOKI’S ALTERCATION (Thorpe’s tr.).

Then, jealous of the praises which Funfeng, Ægir’s servant, had won
for the dexterity with which he waited upon the guests, Loki suddenly
turned all his wrath upon him and slew him. The gods, indignant at this
wanton crime, drove Loki away once more, sternly bidding him never
appear before them again.

Scarcely had the Æsir recovered from this disagreeable interruption
to their feast, and resumed their places at the board, when Loki came
creeping in once more, and with venomous tongue resumed his slanders,
taunting all the gods with their weaknesses or shortcomings, dwelling
maliciously upon their physical imperfections, and deriding them for
their mistakes. In vain the gods tried to stem his abuse; his voice
rose louder and louder, and he was just uttering some base slander
about Sif, when Thor suddenly appeared, angrily brandishing his
hammer, at the mere sight of which Loki fled.

 “Silence, thou impure being!
  My mighty hammer, Miöllnir,
  Shall stop thy prating.
  I will thy head
  From thy neck strike;
  Then will thy life be ended.”

              ÆGIR’S COMPOTATION, OR LOKI’S ALTERCATION (Thorpe’s tr.).

Knowing that he had now lost all hope of ever being admitted into
Asgard again, and that sooner or later the gods, seeing the ripening
of the crop of evil he had sown, would regret having permitted him to
roam about the world, and would try either to bind or slay him, Loki
withdrew to the mountains, where he built himself a hut with four
doors, which he always left wide open to permit his hasty escape.
Carefully laying his plans, he decided that if the gods ever came in
search of him he would rush down to the neighboring cataract which is
said to have been the Fraananger force or stream, and, changing himself
into a salmon, would escape all pursuit. He reasoned, however, that,
although he could easily avoid any hook, it would be difficult for him
to effect an escape were the gods to fashion a net like that of the
sea-goddess Ran.

Haunted by this thought, he wondered if such an implement could be
manufactured, and began to make one out of twine. He had not quite
finished his work when Odin, Kvasir, and Thor suddenly appeared in the
distance; and knowing they had discovered his retreat, and were about
to come and make him a prisoner, Loki threw his half-finished net into
the fire, and, rushing out, jumped into the waterfall, where, in the
shape of a salmon, he hid among the stones.

The gods, finding the hut empty, were about to depart, when Kvasir
perceived the remains of the burned net on the hearth, and, examining
them closely, advised the gods to weave a similar implement and use it
in searching for their foe in the neighboring stream. This advice was
immediately followed, and, the net finished, the gods proceeded to drag
the stream. Loki eluded them the first time by hiding at the bottom
of the river between two stones; but when the gods weighted the net
and tried a second time, he effected his escape by jumping up stream.
A third attempt to secure him proved successful, however, for, as he
once more tried to get away by a sudden leap, Thor caught and held him
so fast, that he could not escape. The salmon, whose slipperiness has
become proverbial in the North, is noted for its remarkably slim tail,
which the people attribute to Thor’s tight grasp upon his foe.

[Sidenote: Loki’s punishment.]

The gods, having thus secured Loki and forced him to resume his wonted
shape, dragged him down into a cavern, where they made him fast,
using as bonds the entrails of his son Narve, who had been torn to
pieces by his brother Vali, whom the gods had changed into a wolf for
this express purpose. One of these fetters was passed under Loki’s
shoulders, and one under his loins; when he was securely bound, hand
and foot, the gods, fearing lest these fetters might give way, changed
them into adamant or iron.

    “Thee, on a rock’s point,
  With the entrails of thy ice-cold son,
  The gods will bind.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Skadi, the giantess, a personification of the cold mountain stream, who
had joyfully watched the fettering of her foe (subterranean fire), then
fastened a venomous serpent directly over his head, so that the poison
would fall, drop by drop, upon his upturned face. But Sigyn, Loki’s
faithful wife, hurried with a cup to his side, gathered up the drops
as they fell, and never left her post except when her vessel was full
and she was obliged to empty it. During her short absence the drops
of venom, falling upon Loki’s face, caused such intense pain that he
writhed with anguish, shaking all the earth in his efforts to get free,
and producing the earthquakes which so frighten mortals.

 “Ere they left him in his anguish,
  O’er his treacherous brow, ungrateful,
  Skadi hung a serpent hateful,
  Venom drops for aye distilling,
  Every nerve with torment filling;
  Thus shall he in horror languish.
  By him, still unwearied kneeling,
    Sigyn at his tortured side,--
  Faithful wife! with beaker stealing
    Drops of venom as they fall,--
    Agonizing poison all!
  Sleepless, changeless, ever dealing
    Comfort, will she still abide;
  Only when the cup’s o’erflowing
    Must fresh pain and smarting cause,
  Swift, to void the beaker going,
    Shall she in her watching pause.
      Then doth Loki
      Loudly cry;
      Shrieks of terror,
      Groans of horror,
  Breaking forth in thunder peals!
  With his writhings scared Earth reels.
  Trembling and quaking,
  E’en high Heav’n shaking!
  So wears he out his awful doom,
  Until dread Ragnarok be come.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

In this painful position Loki was condemned to remain until the
twilight of the gods, when his bonds would be loosed, and he would be
free to take part in the last conflict, on the battlefield of Vigrid,
where he was destined to fall by the hand of Heimdall, who would be
slain at the same time.

As we have seen, the venom-dropping snake in this myth is the cold
mountain stream, whose waters, falling from time to time upon the
subterranean fire, evaporate, and the steam, escaping through fissures,
produces the earthquakes and geysers with which the inhabitants of
Iceland, for instance, were so familiar.

[Illustration: NORWEGIAN WATERFALL.]

When the gods were all reduced to the rank of demons by the
introduction of Christianity, Loki was confounded with Saturn, who had
also been shorn of all his divine attributes, and both were considered
the prototypes of Satan. The last day of the week, which was held
sacred to Loki, was known in the Norse as Laugardag, or wash day, but
in English it was changed to Saturday, and was said to owe its name not
to Saturn but to Sataere, the thief in ambush, and the Teutonic god of
agriculture, who is supposed to be merely another form of the god Loki.




CHAPTER XXIII.

THE GIANTS.


As we have already seen, the Northern races imagined that the giants
were the first creatures who came to life among the icebergs filling
the vast abyss of Ginnunga-gap. These giants were from the very
beginning the opponents and rivals of the gods, and as the latter
were the personifications of all that is good and lovely, the former
naturally served to denote all that was ugly and evil.

[Sidenote: Jötun-heim.]

Slain by the gods, Ymir, the first giant, fell lifeless on the ice,
drowning all his progeny in his blood. One couple only, Bergelmir
and his wife, effected their escape to the confines of the world,
Jötun-heim, where they took up their abode and became the parents of
all the giant race. In the North the giants were called by various
names, each having a particular meaning. Jötun, for instance, meant
“the great eater,” for the giants were noted for their enormous
appetites as well as for their uncommon size. As they were fond of
drinking as well as of eating, they were also called Thurses, a word
which some writers claim had the same meaning as thirst, while others
think they owed this name to the high towers (“turseis”) which they
were supposed to have built. As the giants were antagonistic to the
gods, the latter always strove to keep them at a distance, and drove
them away into Jötun-heim, in the cold regions of the pole, where they
condemned them to remain. The giants were almost invariably worsted in
their encounters with the gods, for they were heavy and slow witted,
and had nothing but stone weapons to oppose the Æsir’s bronze. In
spite of this inequality, however, they were sometimes greatly envied
by the gods, for they were thoroughly conversant with all knowledge
relating to the past. Odin himself was envious of this acquirement, and
no sooner had he secured it by a draught from Mimir’s spring than he
hastened off to Jötun-heim to measure himself against Vafthrudnir, the
most learned of the giant band. But he would never have succeeded in
defeating his antagonist in this strange encounter had he not ceased
inquiring about the past and propounded a question relating to the
future.

Of all the gods Thor was the most feared by the Jötuns, for he was
continually waging war against the frost and mountain giants, who would
fain have hindered agriculture and bound the earth forever in their
rigid bands. In fighting against them, Thor, as we have already seen,
generally had recourse to his crashing hammer Miölnir, with which he
reduced them to powder.

[Sidenote: Origin of the mountains.]

The Germans fancied that the uneven surface of the earth was due to
the giants, who, treading upon it while it was still soft and newly
created, marred its smoothness, while the giantesses, seeing the
valleys made by their huge footprints, shed copious tears, which formed
the streams. As such was the Teutonic belief, the people imagined that
the giants, who were their personifications of the mountains, were
huge uncouth creatures, who could only move about in the darkness or
fog, and were petrified as soon as the first rays of sunlight pierced
through the gloom or scattered the clouds.

This belief made them call one of their principal mountain chains the
Riesengebirge (giant mountains). The Scandinavians also shared this
belief, and to this day the Icelanders designate their highest mountain
peaks by the name of Jokul, a modification of the word “Jötun.” In
Switzerland, where the everlasting snows rest upon the lofty mountain
tops, the people still relate old stories of the time when the giants
roamed abroad; and when an avalanche comes crashing down the mountain
side, they say the giants have restlessly shaken off part of the icy
burden from their brows and shoulders.

As the giants were also personifications of snow, ice, cold, stone,
and subterranean fire, they were all said to be descended from the
primitive Fornjotnr, whom some authorities identify with Ymir.
According to this version of the myth, Fornjotnr had three sons: Hler,
the sea; Kari, the air; and Loki, fire. These three divinities were the
first gods, formed the oldest trinity, and their respective descendants
were the sea giants Mimir, Gymir, and Grendel, the storm giants
Thiassi, Thrym, and Beli, and the giants of fire and death, such as the
Fenris wolf and Hel.

As all the royal dynasties claimed descent from some mythical being,
the Merovingians asserted that their first progenitor was a sea giant,
who rose up out of the waves in the form of an ox, surprised the queen
while she was walking alone on the seashore, and induced her to become
his wife. She gave birth to a son named Meroveus, the founder of the
first dynasty of Frankish kings.

Many stories have already been told about the most important giants.
They reappear in many of the later myths and fairy-tales, and manifest,
after the introduction of Christianity, a peculiar dislike to the sound
of church bells and the singing of the monks and nuns.

[Sidenote: The giant in love.]

The Scandinavians relate, in this connection, that in the days of Olaf
the Saint a giant called Senjemand, who dwelt on the Island of Senjen,
was greatly incensed because a nun on the Island of Grypto daily sang
her morning hymn. The sound of this singing troubled his daydreams, for
he had fallen in love with a beautiful maiden called Juternajesta, and
was trying to gain courage to propose to her. When he made his halting
request, however, the fair damsel scornfully rejected him, declaring
that he was far too old and ugly to suit her taste.

 “Miserable Senjemand--ugly and gray!
  Thou win the maid of Kvedfiord!
  No--a churl thou art and shalt ever remain.”

              BALLAD (Brace’s tr.).

[Illustration: TORGHATTEN, NORWAY.]

In his anger at being thus scornfully refused, the giant swore
vengeance, and soon after he shot a great stone arrow from his bow
at the maiden, who dwelt eighty miles away. Her lover, Torge, also
a giant, seeing her peril and wishing to protect her, flung his
hat at the speeding arrow. This hat was a thousand feet high and
proportionately broad and thick, but a collision with it only spent the
force of the arrow, which, piercing the giant’s headgear, fell short
of its aim. Senjemand, seeing he had failed, and fearing the wrath
of Torge, mounted his steed and prepared to ride away as quickly as
possible; but the sun, rising above the horizon just then, turned him
into stone, as well as the arrow and Torge’s hat, which is now known as
the Torghatten mountain. The people still point out the stone arrow,--a
huge obelisk,--the hole in the mountain, which is 289 feet high and
88 feet wide, and the horseman on Senjen Island, apparently riding a
colossal steed and drawing the folds of his wide cavalry cloak closely
about him. As for the nun whose singing had so disturbed Senjemand
that he could not propose properly, she was petrified too, and never
troubled any one with her psalmody again.

[Sidenote: The giant and the church bells.]

Another legend relates that one of the mountain giants, annoyed by
the ringing of church bells more than fifty miles away, once caught
up a huge rock, which he hurled at the sacred building, but which
fortunately fell short and broke in two. Ever since then, on Christmas
eve, the peasants report that the trolls have come to raise the largest
piece of stone upon golden pillars, and to dance and feast beneath it.
A lady, wishing to know whether this tale were true, once sent her
groom to the place. The trolls came forward and hospitably offered him
a drink in a horn mounted in gold and ornamented with runes. Seizing
the horn, the groom flung its contents away and dashed off at a mad
gallop, closely pursued by all the trolls, from whom he escaped only by
passing through a stubble field and over running water. A deputation of
trolls visited the lady on the morrow to claim this horn, and when she
refused to part with it they laid a curse upon her, declaring that her
castle would burn down every time the horn was removed. This prediction
has thrice been fulfilled, and now the family guard their horn with
superstitious care. A similar drinking vessel, obtained in much the
same fashion by the Oldenburg family, is exhibited in the collection of
the King of Denmark.

The giants were not supposed to remain stationary, but were said to
move about in the darkness, sometimes transporting masses of earth and
sand, which they dropped here and there, thus forming the sandhills in
northern Germany and Denmark.

[Sidenote: The giants’ ship.]

A North Frisian tradition relates that the giants also possessed a
colossal ship, called Mannigfual, which constantly cruised about in
the Atlantic Ocean. Such was the size of this vessel that the captain
was said to pace the deck on horseback. The rigging was so extensive
and the masts so high that the sailors who went up as youths came down
as gray-haired men, having rested and refreshed themselves in rooms
fashioned and provisioned for that purpose in the huge blocks and
pulleys.

By some mischance it happened that the pilot once directed this immense
vessel into the North Sea, and wishing to return to the Atlantic as
soon as possible, yet not daring to turn around in such a small space,
he steered into the English Channel. Imagine the dismay of all on board
when they saw the passage grow narrower and narrower the farther they
advanced. When they came to the narrowest spot, between Calais and
Dover, it seemed barely possible that the vessel, drifting along with
the current, could force its way through. The captain, with laudable
presence of mind, promptly bade his men soap the sides of the vessel,
laying an extra-thick layer on the starboard, where the rugged Dover
cliffs threateningly rose. These orders were no sooner carried out
than the vessel entered the narrow space, and, thanks to the captain’s
precaution, it slipped safely through. The rocks of Dover scraped off
so much soap, however, that ever since then they have been very white
indeed, and the waves dashing against them still have a particularly
foamy appearance.

This exciting experience was not the only one which the Mannigfual
passed through, for we are told that it once, nobody knows how,
penetrated into the Baltic Sea, where, the water not being deep enough
to keep the vessel afloat, the captain ordered all the ballast thrown
overboard. Such was the amount of material thus cast on either side
the vessel into the sea that it formed the two islands of Bornholm and
Christiansoë.

[Sidenote: Princess Ilse.]

In Thuringia and in the Black Forest the stories of the giants are very
numerous indeed, and the peasants delight in telling about Ilse, the
lovely daughter of the giant of the Ilsenstein. She was so charming
that she was known far and wide as the beautiful Princess Ilse, and
was wooed by many knights, among whom she preferred the lord of
Westerburg. But her father did not at all approve of her consorting
with a mere mortal, and forbade her seeing her lover. Princess Ilse was
willful, and in spite of his prohibitions she daily visited her lover.
The giant, exasperated by her persistency and disobedience, finally
stretched out his huge hands and, seizing the rocks, tore a great
gap between the height where he dwelt and the castle of Westerburg.
Princess Ilse, perceiving the cleft which parted her from her lover,
recklessly flung herself over the precipice into the raging flood
beneath, where she was changed into a bewitching undine. She dwelt
here in the limpid waters for many a year, appearing from time to
time to exercise her fascinations upon mortals, and even, it is said,
captivating the affections of the Emperor Henry, who paid frequent
visits to her cascade. Her last appearance, according to popular
belief, was at Pentecost, a hundred years ago; and the natives have not
yet ceased to look for the beautiful princess, who is said still to
haunt the stream and wave her white arms to entice travelers into the
cool spray of the waterfall.

 “I am the Princess Ilse,
    And I dwell at the Ilsenstein;
  Come with me to my castle,
    And bliss shall be mine and thine.

  “With the cool of my glass-clear waters
    Thy brow and thy locks I’ll lave;
  And thou’lt think of thy sorrows no longer,
    For all that thou look’st so grave.

  “With my white arms twined around thee,
    And lapped on my breast so white,
  Thou shalt lie, and dream of elf-land--
    Its loves and wild delight.”

              HEINE (Martin’s tr.).

[Sidenote: The giant’s plaything.]

The giants inhabited all the earth before it was given to mankind;
they very reluctantly made way for the human race, and retreated into
the waste and barren parts of the country, where they brought up
their families in strict seclusion. Such was the ignorance of their
offspring, that a young giantess, straying away from home, once came
to an inhabited valley, where for the first time in her life she saw
a farmer plowing on the hillside. Deeming him a pretty plaything, she
caught him up with his team, thrust them into her apron, and gleefully
carried them home to exhibit them to her father. But the giant
immediately bade her carry peasant and horses back to the place where
she had found them, and when she had done so he sadly explained that
the creatures whom she took for mere playthings, would eventually drive
all the giant folk away, and become masters of all the earth.




CHAPTER XXIV.

THE DWARFS.


In the first chapter we saw how the black elves, dwarfs, or
Svart-alfar, were bred like maggots in the flesh of the slain giant
Ymir. The gods, perceiving these tiny, unformed creatures creeping
in and out, gave them form and features, calling them dark elves on
account of their swarthy complexions. These small beings were so
homely, with their dark skin, green eyes, large heads, short legs, and
crow’s feet, that they were told to hide underground and never show
themselves during the daytime under penalty of being turned into stone.
Although less powerful than the gods, they were far more intelligent
than men, and as their knowledge was boundless and extended even to the
future, gods and men were equally anxious to question them.

They were also known as trolls, kobolds, brownies, goblins, pucks, or
Huldra folk, according to the country where they dwelt.

 “You are the gray, gray Troll,
    With the great green eyes,
  But I love you, gray, gray Troll--
    You are so wise!

  “Tell me this sweet morn,
    Tell me all you know--
  Tell me, was I born?
    Tell me, did I grow?”

              THE LEGEND OF THE LITTLE FAY (Buchanan).

[Sidenote: The Tarnkappe.]

These dwarfs could transport themselves with marvelous celerity from
one place to another, loved to conceal themselves behind rocks, and
mischievously repeated the last words of every conversation they
overheard. Owing to this well-known trick, the echoes were called
dwarfs’ talk, and people fancied that the reason why they were never
seen was because each dwarf was the proud possessor of a tiny red cap
which made the wearer invisible. This cap was called Tarnkappe, and it
was owing to it only that the dwarfs dared appear above the surface of
the earth after sunrise without fear of being petrified.

 “Away! let not the sun view me--
    I dare no longer stay;
  An Elfin-child, thou wouldst me see,
    To stone turn at his ray.”

              LA MOTTE-FOUQUÉ.

[Sidenote: The magic of the dwarfs.]

The dwarfs as well as the elves were ruled by a king, who, in various
countries of northern Europe, was known as Andvari, Alberich, Elbegast,
Gondemar, Laurin, or Oberon. He dwelt in a magnificent subterranean
palace, all studded with the gems which his subjects had drawn from the
bosom of the earth, and, besides untold riches and the Tarnkappe, he
owned a magic ring, an invincible sword, and a belt of strength. At his
command his subjects, who were very clever smiths, fashioned marvelous
jewels or weapons, which he bestowed upon favorite mortals.

We have already seen how the dwarfs fashioned Sif’s golden hair, the
ship Skidbladnir, the point of Odin’s spear Gungnir, the ring Draupnir,
the golden-bristled boar Gullin-bursti, the hammer Miölnir, and Freya’s
golden necklace Brisinga-men. They are also said to have made the magic
girdle which Spenser describes in his poem of the “Faerie Queene,”--a
girdle which was said to have the power of revealing whether the wearer
were virtuous or a hypocrite.

 “That girdle gave the virtue of chaste love
  And wifehood true to all that did it bear;
  But whosoever contrary doth prove
  Might not the same about her middle wear
  But it would loose, or else asunder tear.”

              FAERIE QUEENE (Spenser).

The dwarfs also manufactured the mythical sword Tyrfing, which
could cut through iron and stone, and which they gave to Angantyr.
This sword, like Frey’s, fought of its own accord, and could not be
sheathed, after it was once drawn, until it had tasted blood. Angantyr
was so proud of this weapon that he had it buried with him; but his
daughter Hervor visited his tomb at midnight, recited magic spells, and
forced him to rise from his grave to give her the precious blade. She
wielded it bravely, and it eventually became the property of another of
the Northern heroes.

The dwarfs were generally kindly and helpful; sometimes they kneaded
bread, ground flour, brewed beer, performed countless household tasks,
and harvested and threshed the grain for the farmers. If ill treated,
however, or turned into ridicule, these little creatures forsook
the house and never came back again. When the old gods ceased to be
worshiped in the Northlands, the dwarfs entirely withdrew from the
country, and a ferryman once said that he had been hired to ply his
boat back and forth across the river one night, and that at every trip
his vessel was so laden down with invisible passengers that it nearly
sank. When his night’s work was over, he received a rich reward, and
his employer informed him that he had helped all the dwarfs across the
river, for they were leaving the country forever to punish the people
for their unbelief.

[Sidenote: Changelings.]

According to popular superstition, the dwarfs envied man’s taller
stature and often tried to improve their race by winning human wives or
by stealing unbaptized children, and substituting their own offspring
for the human mother to nurse. These dwarf babies were known as
changelings, and were recognizable by their puny and wizened forms.
To recover possession of her own babe, and to rid herself of the
changeling, a woman was obliged either to brew beer in egg-shells
or to grease the soles of the child’s feet and hold them so near the
flames that, attracted by their offspring’s distressed cries, the dwarf
parents would hasten to claim their own and return the stolen child.

The female trolls were also said to have the power of changing
themselves into Maras or nightmares, and of tormenting any one they
pleased; but if the victim succeeded in stopping up the hole through
which a Mara made her ingress into his room, she was entirely at his
mercy, and he could even force her to marry him if he chose to do so.
A wife thus obtained was sure to remain as long as the opening through
which she had entered the house was closed, but if the plug were
removed, either by accident or design, she immediately effected her
escape and never returned.

[Sidenote: A conjecture.]

Some writers have ventured a conjecture that the dwarfs so often
mentioned in the ancient sagas and fairy-tales were real beings,
probably the Phœnician miners, who, working the coal, iron, copper,
gold, and tin mines of England, Norway, Sweden, etc., took advantage
of the simplicity and credulity of the early inhabitants to make them
believe that they belonged to a supernatural race and always dwelt
underground, in a region which was called Svart-alfa-heim, or the home
of the black elves.




CHAPTER XXV.

THE ELVES.


Besides the dwarfs there was another numerous class of tiny creatures
called Lios-alfar, light or white elves, who inhabited the realms of
air between heaven and earth, had their palace in Alf-heim, and were
gently governed by the genial god Frey. They were lovely, beneficent
beings, so pure and innocent that, according to some authorities,
their name was derived from the same root as the Latin word “white”
(_albus_), which, in a modified form, was given to the Alps, those
snow-covered mountains, and to Albion (England), because of her white
chalk cliffs which could be seen from afar.

[Illustration: DANCE OF THE WILL-O’-THE-WISPS.--W. Kray.]

The elves were so small that they could flit about unseen to care for
the flowers, birds, and butterflies; and as they were passionately
fond of dancing, they often slipped down to earth on a moonbeam, to
dance on the green. Holding one another by the hand, they danced round
in circles, thereby making the “fairy rings,” which could easily be
discovered, as the grass grew greener and more luxuriant in the places
their little feet had trod.

 “Merry elves, their morrice pacing
    To aërial minstrelsy,
  Emerald rings on brown heath tracing,
    Trip it deft and merrily.”

              WALTER SCOTT.

If any mortal stood in the middle of one of these fairy rings he could,
according to the popular belief in England, see the fairies and enjoy
their favor; but the Germans and Scandinavians vowed that the unhappy
man must die. In connection with this superstition, they tell how Sir
Olaf, riding off to his wedding, was enticed by the fairies into their
ring. On the morrow, instead of a merry marriage, his friends witnessed
a triple funeral, for his mother and bride both died of grief when they
beheld his lifeless corpse.

 “Master Olof rode forth ere dawn of the day
  And came where the Elf folk were dancing away.
    The dance is so merry,
  So merry in the greenwood.

  “And on the next morn, ere the daylight was red,
  In Master Olof’s house lay three corpses dead.
    The dance is so merry,
  So merry in the greenwood.

  “First Master Olof, and next his young bride,
  And third his old mother--for sorrow she died.
    The dance is so merry,
  So merry in the greenwood.”

              MASTER OLOF AT THE ELFIN DANCE (Howitt’s tr.).

[Sidenote: Fairies or fays.]

These elves, who in England were called fairies or fays, were also
enthusiastic musicians, and delighted especially in a certain tune
which was known as the elf dance, and which was so irresistible that no
one could hear it without dancing. If a mortal, overhearing the air,
ventured to play it, he suddenly found himself incapable of stopping
and was forced to play on and on until he died of exhaustion, unless
he were deft enough to play the tune backwards, or some one charitably
slipped behind him and cut the strings of his violin. His hearers, who
were forced to dance as long as the tones continued, could only pause
when they ceased.

[Sidenote: The Will-o’-the-wisps.]

In the North, in the mediæval ages, the will-o’-the-wisps were known
as lights, for these tiny sprites were supposed to mislead travelers;
and popular superstition claimed that the Jack-o’-lanterns were the
restless spirits of murderers forced against their will to return to
the scene of their crimes. As they nightly walked thither, it is said
that they doggedly repeated with every step, “It is right;” but as they
returned they sadly reiterated, “It is wrong.”

[Sidenote: Oberon and Titania.]

In later times the fairies or elves were said to be ruled by the king
of the dwarfs, who, being an underground spirit, was considered a
demon, and allowed to retain the magic power which the missionaries
had wrested from the god Frey. In England and France the king of the
fairies was known by the name of Oberon; he governed fairyland with his
queen Titania, and held his highest revels on earth on Midsummer night.
It was then that the fairies all congregated around him and danced most
merrily.

 “Every elf and fairy sprite
  Hop as light as bird from brier;
  And this ditty after me
  Sing, and dance it trippingly.”

              MIDSUMMER-NIGHT’S DREAM (Shakespeare).

These elves, like the brownies, Huldra folk, kobolds, etc., were also
supposed to visit human dwellings, and it was said that they took
mischievous pleasure in tangling and knotting horses’ manes and tails.
These tangles were known as elf locks, and whenever a farmer descried
them he declared that his steeds had been elf-ridden during the night.

[Sidenote: Alf-blot.]

In Germany and Scandinavia sacrifices were offered to the elves to
make them propitious. These sacrifices, which consisted either of some
small animal, or of a bowl of honey and milk, were known as Alf-blot,
and were quite common until the missionaries taught the people that the
elves were mere demons. The sacrifice once offered to them was then
transferred to the angels, who were long entreated to befriend mortals,
and propitiated by the same gifts.

Many of the elves were supposed to live and die with the trees or
plants which they tended, but these moss, wood, or tree maidens, while
remarkably beautiful when seen in front, were hollow like a trough
when viewed from behind. They appear in many of the popular tales, but
almost always as benevolent and helpful spirits, for they were anxious
to do good to mortals and to remain on a friendly footing with them.

[Sidenote: Images on doorposts.]

In Scandinavia the elves, both light and dark, were worshiped as
household divinities, and their images were carved on the doorposts.
The Norsemen, who were driven away from home by the tyranny of Harald
Harfager in 874, entered their ships, taking these carved doorposts
with them. Similar carvings, including images of the gods and heroes,
decorated the pillars of their high seats which they also carried
away. The exiles showed their trust in their gods by throwing these
wooden images overboard when they neared the Icelandic shores, and
settling where the waves carried the posts, although the spot scarcely
seemed the most desirable. “Thus they carried with them the religion,
the poetry, and the laws of their race, and on this desolate volcanic
island they kept these records unchanged for hundreds of years, while
other Teutonic nations gradually became affected by their intercourse
with Roman and Byzantine Christianity.” These records, carefully
collected by Sæmund the learned, form the Elder Edda, the most precious
relic of ancient Northern literature, without which we would know
comparatively little of the religion of our forefathers.

The sagas relate that the first Norse settlements in Greenland and
Vinland were made in the same way,--the Norsemen piously landing
wherever their household gods drifted ashore,--many years before the
voyage of Columbus and the accredited discovery of America.

[Illustration: OLD HOUSES WITH CARVED DOORPOSTS, NORWAY.]




CHAPTER XXVI.

THE SIGURD SAGA.


While the first part of the Elder Edda consists of a collection of
alliterative poems describing the creation of the world, the adventures
of the gods, their eventual downfall, and gives a complete exposition
of the Northern code of ethics, the second part comprises a series of
heroic lays describing the life and adventures of the Volsung family,
and especially of their chief representative, Sigurd, the great
Northern warrior.

[Sidenote: The Volsunga Saga.]

These lays form the basis of the great Scandinavian epic, the Volsunga
Saga, and have supplied not only the materials for the Nibelungenlied,
the German epic, and for countless folk tales, but also for Wagner’s
celebrated operas, “The Rhinegold,” “Valkyr,” “Siegfried,” and “The
Dusk of the Gods.” They have also been rewritten by William Morris,
the English poet, who has given them the form which they will probably
retain in our literature, and it is from his work that almost all the
quotations in this chapter are taken in preference to extracts from the
Edda.

[Sidenote: Sigi.]

Sigi, Odin’s son, was a powerful man, and generally respected until he
killed a man out of jealousy because the latter had slain the most game
when they were out hunting together. In consequence of this crime, Sigi
was driven from his own land and declared an outlaw. But, although he
was a criminal, he had not entirely forfeited Odin’s favor, for the
god now gave him a well-equipped vessel, provided him with a number of
brave followers, and promised that victory should ever attend him.

Thanks to Odin’s protection, Sigi soon won the glorious empire of the
Huns and became a powerful monarch. But when he had attained extreme
old age his fortune changed, Odin suddenly forsook him, his wife’s
kindred fell upon him, and after a short encounter he was treacherously
slain.

[Sidenote: Rerir.]

His death was soon avenged, however, for his son Rerir, returning from
a journey, put all the murderers to death and claimed the throne. But,
in spite of all outward prosperity, Rerir’s dearest wish, a son to
succeed him, remained unfulfilled for many a year. Finally, however,
Frigga decided to grant his constant prayer, and to vouchsafe the heir
he longed for. Her swift messenger Gna, or Liod, was dispatched to
carry him a miraculous apple, which she dropped into his lap as he was
sitting alone on the hillside. Glancing upward, Rerir recognized the
emissary of the goddess, and joyfully hastened home to partake of the
apple with his wife. The child thus born in answer to their prayers was
a handsome little lad called Volsung, who, losing both parents in early
infancy, became ruler of all the land.

[Sidenote: Volsung.]

Every year Volsung’s wealth and power increased, and, as he was the
boldest leader, many brave warriors rallied around him, and drank his
mead sitting beneath the Branstock, a mighty oak, which, rising in the
middle of his dwelling, pierced the roof and overshadowed the whole
house.

 “And as in all other matters ’twas all earthly houses’ crown,
  And the least of its wall-hung shields was a battle-world’s renown,
  So therein withal was a marvel and a glorious thing to see,
  For amidst of its midmost hall-floor sprang up a mighty tree,
  That reared its blessings roofward and wreathed the roof-tree dear
  With the glory of the summer and the garland of the year.”

Volsung did not long remain childless, for ten stalwart sons and one
lovely daughter, Signy, came to brighten his home. As soon as this
maiden reached marriageable years, many suitors asked for her hand,
which was finally pledged to Siggeir, King of the Goths, whom, however,
she had never seen.

[Sidenote: The wedding of Signy.]

The wedding day came, and when the bride first beheld her destined
groom she shrank back in dismay, for his puny form and lowering glances
contrasted oddly with her brothers’ strong frames and frank faces. But
it was too late to withdraw,--the family honor was at stake,--and Signy
so successfully concealed her dislike that none except her twin brother
Sigmund suspected how reluctantly she became Siggeir’s wife.

[Sidenote: The sword in the Branstock.]

The wedding feast was held as usual, and when the merrymakings had
reached their height the guests were startled by the sudden entrance
of a tall, one-eyed man, closely enveloped in a mantle of cloudy blue.
Without vouchsafing word or glance to any in the assembly, the stranger
strode up to the Branstock and thrust a glittering sword up to the hilt
in its great bole. Then, turning slowly around, he faced the awe-struck
assembly, and in the midst of the general silence declared that the
weapon would belong to the warrior who could pull it out, and that it
would assure him victory in every battle. These words ended, he passed
out and disappeared, leaving an intimate conviction in the minds of all
the guests that Odin, king of the gods, had been in their midst.

 “So sweet his speaking sounded, so wise his words did seem,
  That moveless all men sat there, as in a happy dream
  We stir not lest we waken; but there his speech had end,
  And slowly down the hall-floor and outward did he wend;
  And none would cast him a question or follow on his ways,
  For they knew that the gift was Odin’s, a sword for the world to
          praise.”

Volsung was the first to recover the power of speech, and, waiving
his own right to try to secure the divine weapon, he invited Siggeir
to make the first attempt to draw it out of the tree-trunk. The
bridegroom anxiously tugged and strained, but the sword remained firmly
embedded in the oak. He resumed his seat, with an air of chagrin, and
then Volsung also tried and failed. But the weapon was evidently not
intended for either of them, and the young Volsung princes were next
invited to try their strength.

 “Sons I have gotten and cherished, now stand ye forth and try;
  Lest Odin tell in God-home how from the way he strayed,
  And how to the man he would not he gave away his blade.”

[Sidenote: Sigmund.]

The nine eldest sons were equally unsuccessful; but when Sigmund, the
tenth and youngest, laid his firm young hand upon the hilt, it easily
yielded to his touch, and he triumphantly drew the sword out without
making the least exertion.

 “At last by the side of the Branstock Sigmund the Volsung stood,
  And with right hand wise in battle the precious sword-hilt caught,
  Yet in a careless fashion, as he deemed it all for naught;
  When, lo, from floor to rafter went up a shattering shout,
  For aloft in the hand of Sigmund the naked blade showed out
  As high o’er his head he shook it: for the sword had come away
  From the grip of the heart of the Branstock, as though all
          loose it lay.”

All present seemed overjoyed at his success; but Siggeir’s heart was
filled with envy, for he coveted the possession of the weapon, which he
now tried to purchase from his young brother-in-law. Sigmund, however,
refused to part with it at any price, declaring that the weapon had
evidently been intended for him only. This refusal so offended Siggeir
that he secretly resolved to bide his time, to exterminate the proud
race of the Volsungs, and thus secure the divine sword.

Concealing his chagrin therefore, he turned to Volsung and cordially
invited him to visit his court a month later, bringing all his sons and
kinsmen with him. The invitation so spontaneously given was immediately
accepted, and although Signy, suspecting evil, secretly sought her
father while her husband slept, and implored him to retract his promise
and stay at home, he would not consent to appear afraid.

[Sidenote: Siggeir’s treachery.]

A few weeks after the return of the bridal couple Volsung’s well-manned
vessels came within sight of Siggeir’s shores, and Signy perceiving
them hastened down to the beach to implore her kinsmen not to land,
warning them that her husband had treacherously planned an ambush,
whence they could never escape alive. But Volsung and his sons, whom no
peril could daunt, calmly bade her return to her husband’s palace, and
donning their arms they boldly set foot ashore.

[Illustration: THE BRANSTOCK.--Hoffmann.]

 “Then sweetly Volsung kissed her: ‘Woe am I for thy sake,
  But Earth the word hath hearkened, that yet unborn I spake;
  How I ne’er would turn me backward from the sword or fire of bale;--
  --I have held that word till to-day, and to-day shall I change the
          tale?
  And look on these thy brethren, how goodly and great are they,
  Wouldst thou have the maidens mock them, when this pain hath passed
          away
  And they sit at the feast hereafter, that they feared the deadly
          stroke?
  Let us do our day’s work deftly for the praise and the glory of folk;
  And if the Norns will have it that the Volsung kin shall fail,
  Yet I know of the deed that dies not, and the name that shall
          ever avail.’”

Marching towards the palace, the brave little troop soon fell into
Siggeir’s ambuscade, and, although they fought with heroic courage,
they were so overpowered by the superior number of their foes that
Volsung was soon slain and all his sons made captive. Led bound into
the presence of Siggeir, who had taken no part in the fight (for he was
an arrant coward), Sigmund was forced to relinquish his precious sword,
and he and his brothers were all condemned to die.

Signy, hearing this cruel sentence, vainly interceded for them, but all
she could obtain by her prayers and entreaties was that her kinsmen
should be chained to a fallen oak in the forest, there to perish of
hunger and thirst if the wild beasts spared them. Then, fearing lest
his wife should visit and succor her brothers, Siggeir confined her in
the palace, where she was closely guarded night and day.

Early every morning Siggeir himself sent a messenger into the forest
to see whether the Volsungs were still living, and every morning
the man returned saying a monster had come during the night and had
devoured one of the princes, leaving nothing but his bones. When none
but Sigmund remained alive, Signy finally prevailed upon one of her
servants to carry some honey into the forest and smear it over her
brother’s face and mouth.

That very night the wild beast, attracted by the smell of the honey,
licked Sigmund’s face, and even thrust its tongue into his mouth.
Clinching his teeth upon it, Sigmund, weak and wounded as he was,
struggled until his bonds broke and he could slay the nightly visitor
who had caused the death of all his brothers. Then he vanished into the
forest, where he remained concealed until the daily messenger had come
and gone, and until Signy, released from captivity, came speeding to
the forest to weep over her kinsmen’s remains.

Seeing her evident grief, and knowing she had no part in Siggeir’s
cruelty, Sigmund stole out of his place of concealment, comforted
her as best he could, helped her to bury the whitening bones, and
registered a solemn oath in her presence to avenge his family’s
wrongs. This vow was fully approved by Signy, who, however, bade her
brother abide a favorable time, promising to send him a helper. Then
the brother and sister sadly parted, she to return to her distasteful
palace home, and he to seek the most remote part of the forest, where
he built a tiny hut and plied the trade of a smith.

                                    “And men say that Signy wept
  When she left that last of her kindred; yet wept she never more
  Amid the earls of Siggeir, and as lovely as before
  Was her face to all men’s deeming: nor aught it changed for ruth,
  Nor for fear nor any longing; and no man said for sooth
  That she ever laughed thereafter till the day of her death was come.”

[Sidenote: Signy’s sons.]

Years passed by. Siggeir, having taken possession of the Volsung
kingdom, proudly watched the growth of his eldest son, whom Signy
secretly sent to her brother as soon as he was ten years of age,
bidding Sigmund train the child up to help him, if he were worthy of
such a task. Sigmund reluctantly accepted the charge; but as soon as
he had tested the boy and found him deficient in physical courage, he
either sent him back to his mother, or, as some versions relate, slew
him.

Some time after this Sigmund tested Signy’s second son, who had been
sent to him for the same purpose, and found him wanting also. Evidently
none but a pure-blooded Volsung could help him in his work of revenge,
and Signy, realizing this, resolved to commit a crime.

 “And once in the dark she murmured: ‘Where then was the ancient song
  That the Gods were but twin-born once, and deemed it nothing wrong
  To mingle for the world’s sake, whence had the Æsir birth,
  And the Vanir, and the Dwarf-kind, and all the folk of earth?’”

This resolution taken, she summoned a beautiful young witch, exchanged
forms with her, and, running into the forest, sought shelter in
Sigmund’s hut. Deeming her nothing but the gypsy she seemed, and won by
her coquetry, he soon made her his wife. Three days later she vanished
from his hut, returned to the palace, resumed her own form, and when
she gave birth to a little son, she rejoiced to see his bold glance and
strong frame.

[Sidenote: Sinfiotli.]

When this child, Sinfiotli, was ten years of age, she herself made a
preliminary test of his courage by sewing his garment to his skin. Then
she suddenly snatched it off with shreds of flesh hanging to it, and
as the child did not even wince, but laughed aloud, she confidently
sent him to Sigmund. He, too, found the boy quite fearless, and upon
leaving the hut one day he bade him take meal from a certain sack, and
knead and bake the bread. On returning home Sigmund asked Sinfiotli
whether his orders had been carried out. The lad replied by showing
the bread, and when closely questioned he artlessly confessed that he
had been obliged to knead into the loaf a great adder which was hidden
in the meal. Pleased to see that the child, for whom he felt a strange
affection, had successfully stood the test which had daunted his
predecessors, Sigmund bade him refrain from eating of that loaf, as he
alone could taste poison unharmed, and patiently began to teach him all
a Northern warrior need know.

 “For here the tale of the elders doth men a marvel to wit,
  That such was the shaping of Sigmund among all earthly kings,
  That unhurt he handled adders and other deadly things,
  And might drink unscathed of venom: but Sinfiotli was so wrought
  That no sting of creeping creatures would harm his body aught.”

[Sidenote: The werewolves.]

Sigmund and Sinfiotli soon became inseparable companions, and while
ranging the forest together they once came to a hut, where they found
two men sound asleep. Wolf skins hanging near them immediately made
them conclude that the strangers were werewolves (men whom a cruel
spell forced to assume the habits and guise of ravenous wolves, and
who could only resume their natural form for a short space at a time).
Prompted by curiosity, Sigmund donned one of the wolf skins, Sinfiotli
the other, and they were soon metamorphosed into wolves and rushed
through the forest, slaying and devouring all they saw.

Such were their wolfish passions that they soon attacked each other,
and after a fierce struggle Sinfiotli, the younger and weaker, fell
down dead. This sudden catastrophe brought Sigmund to his senses.
While he hung over his murdered companion in sudden despair, he saw
two weasels come out of the forest and fight until one lay dead. The
live weasel then sprang back into the thicket, and soon returned with
a leaf, which it laid upon its companion’s breast. At the contact of
the magic herb the dead beast came back to life. A moment later a raven
flying overhead dropped a similar leaf at Sigmund’s feet, and he,
understanding that the gods wished to help him, laid it upon Sinfiotli,
who was restored to life.

Afraid lest they might work each other further mischief while in this
altered guise, Sigmund and Sinfiotli now crept home and patiently
waited until the time of release had come. On the ninth night the skins
dropped off and they hastily flung them into the fire, where they were
entirely consumed, and the spell was broken forever.

It was now that Sigmund confided the story of his wrongs to Sinfiotli,
who swore that, although Siggeir was his father (for neither he nor
Sigmund knew the secret of his birth), he would help him to take his
revenge. At nightfall, therefore, he accompanied Sigmund to the palace;
they entered unseen, and concealed themselves in the cellar, behind
the huge beer vats. Here they were discovered by Signy’s two youngest
children, who were playing with golden rings, which rolled into the
cellar, and who thus suddenly came upon the men in ambush.

They loudly proclaimed the discovery they had just made to their father
and his guests, but, before Siggeir and his men could don their arms,
Signy caught both children by the hand, and dragging them into the
cellar bade her brother slay the little traitors. This Sigmund utterly
refused to do, but Sinfiotli struck off their heads ere he turned to
fight against the assailants, who were rapidly closing around him.

In spite of all efforts Sigmund and his brave young companion soon fell
into the hands of the Goths, whose king, Siggeir, sentenced them to be
buried alive in the same mound, a stone partition being erected between
them so they could neither see nor touch each other. The prisoners
were already confined in their living graves, and the men were about
to place the last stones on the roof, when Signy drew near, bearing a
bundle of straw, which they allowed her to throw at Sinfiotli’s feet,
for they fancied that it contained only a few provisions which would
prolong his agony a little without helping him to escape.

When the workmen had departed and all was still, Sinfiotli undid the
sheaf and shouted for joy when he found instead of bread the sword
which Odin had given to Sigmund. Knowing that nothing could dull or
break the keen edge of this fine weapon, Sinfiotli thrust it through
the stone partition, and, aided by Sigmund, sawed an opening, and both
soon effected an escape through the roof.

 “Then in the grave-mound’s darkness did Sigmund the king upstand,
  And unto that saw of battle he set his naked hand;
  And hard the gift of Odin home to their breasts they drew;
  Sawed Sigmund, sawed Sinfiotli, till the stone was cleft atwo,
  And they met and kissed together: then they hewed and heaved full hard
  Till, lo, through the bursten rafters the winter heavens bestarred!
  And they leap out merry-hearted; nor is there need to say
  A many words between them of whither was the way.”

[Sidenote: Sigmund’s vengeance.]

Sigmund and Sinfiotli, free once more, noiselessly sought the palace,
piled combustible materials around it, and setting fire to it placed
themselves on either side the door, declaring that none but the women
should be allowed to pass through. Then they loudly called to Signy to
escape ere it was too late, but she had no desire to live, and after
kissing them both and revealing the secret of Sinfiotli’s birth she
sprang back into the flames, where she perished.

 “And then King Siggeir’s roof-tree upheaved for its utmost fall,
  And its huge walls clashed together, and its mean and lowly things
  The fire of death confounded with the tokens of the kings.”

[Sidenote: Helgi.]

The long-planned vengeance had finally been carried out, Volsung’s
death had been avenged, and Sigmund, feeling that nothing now detained
him in Gothland, set sail with Sinfiotli and returned to Hunaland,
where he was warmly welcomed and again sat under the shade of his
ancestral tree, the mighty Branstock. His authority fully established,
Sigmund married Borghild, a beautiful princess, who bore him two sons,
Hamond and Helgi, the latter of whom was visited by the Norns when he
lay in his cradle, and promised sumptuous entertainment in Valhalla
when his earthly career should be ended.

 “And the woman was fair and lovely, and bore him sons of fame;
  Men called them Hamond and Helgi, and when Helgi first saw light
  There came the Norns to his cradle and gave him life full bright,
  And called him Sunlit Hill, Sharp Sword, and Land of Rings,
  And bade him be lovely and great, and a joy in the tale of kings.”

This young Volsung prince was fostered by Hagal, for Northern kings
generally entrusted their sons’ education to a stranger, thinking they
would be treated with less indulgence than at home. Under this tuition
Helgi became so fearless that at the age of fifteen he ventured alone
into the palace of Hunding, with whose whole race his family was at
feud. Passing all through the palace unmolested and unrecognized, he
left an insolent message, which so angered Hunding that he immediately
set out in pursuit of the bold young prince. Hunding entered Hagal’s
house, and would have made Helgi a prisoner had the youth not disguised
himself as a servant maid, and begun to grind corn as if it were his
wonted occupation. The invaders marveled somewhat at the maid’s tall
stature and brawny arms, but departed without suspecting that they had
been so near the hero whom they sought.

Having thus cleverly escaped, Helgi joined Sinfiotli; they collected an
army, and marched openly against the Hundings, with whom they fought
a great battle, during which the Valkyrs hovered overhead, waiting to
convey the slain to Valhalla. Gudrun, one of the battle maidens, was so
charmed by the courage which Helgi displayed, that she openly sought
him and promised to be his wife. Only one of the Hunding race, Dag,
remained alive, and he was allowed to go free after promising never to
try to avenge his kinsmen’s death. This promise was not kept, however,
for Dag, having borrowed Odin’s spear Gungnir, treacherously made use
of it to slay Helgi. Gudrun, now his wife, wept many tears at his
death, and solemnly cursed his murderer; then, hearing from one of her
maids that her slain husband kept calling for her in the depths of his
tomb, she fearlessly entered the mound at night and tenderly inquired
why he called and why his wounds kept on bleeding even after death.
Helgi answered that he could not rest happy because of her grief, and
declared that for every tear she shed a drop of his blood must flow.

 “Thou weepest, gold-adorned!
  Cruel tears,
  Sun-bright daughter of the south!
  Ere to sleep thou goest;
  Each one falls bloody
  On the prince’s breast,
  Wet, cold, and piercing,
  With sorrow big.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

To still her beloved husband’s sufferings, Gudrun then ceased to weep,
but her spirit soon joined his, which had ridden over Bifröst and
entered Valhalla, where Odin made him leader of the Einheriar. Here
Gudrun, a Valkyr once more, continued to wait upon him, darting down
to earth at Odin’s command to seek new recruits for the army which her
lord was to lead into battle when Ragnarok, the twilight of the gods,
should come.

[Sidenote: Death of Sinfiotli.]

Sinfiotli, Sigmund’s eldest son, also came to an early death; for,
having quarreled with and slain Borghild’s brother, she determined to
poison him. Twice Sinfiotli detected the attempt and told his father
there was poison in his cup. Twice Sigmund, whom no venom could injure,
drained the bowl; but when Borghild made a third and last attempt,
he bade Sinfiotli let the wine flow through his beard. Mistaking the
meaning of his father’s words, Sinfiotli immediately drained the cup
and fell to the ground lifeless, for the poison was of the most deadly
kind.

 “He drank as he spake the words, and forthwith the venom ran
  In a chill flood over his heart, and down fell the mighty man
  With never an uttered death-word and never a death-changed look,
  And the floor of the hall of the Volsungs beneath his falling shook.
  Then up rose the elder of days with a great and bitter cry,
  And lifted the head of the fallen; and none durst come anigh
  To hearken the words of his sorrow, if any words he said
  But such as the Father of all men might speak over Balder dead.
  And again, as before the death-stroke, waxed the hall of the
          Volsungs dim,
  And once more he seemed in the forest, where he spake with
          naught but him.”

Speechless with grief, Sigmund tenderly raised his son’s body in his
arms, and strode out of the hall and down to the shore, where he
deposited his precious burden in the skiff of an old one-eyed boatman
who came at his call. But when he would fain have stepped aboard also,
the boatman pushed off and was soon lost to sight. The bereaved father
then slowly wended his way home again, knowing that Odin himself had
come to claim the young hero and had rowed away with him “out into the
west.”

[Sidenote: Hiordis.]

Sigmund repudiated Borghild in punishment for this crime, and when
he was very old indeed he sued for the hand of Hiordis, a fair young
princess, daughter of Eglimi, King of the Islands. Although this young
maiden had many suitors, among others King Lygni of Hunding’s race,
she gladly accepted Sigmund and became his wife. Lygni, the discarded
suitor, was so angry at this decision, that he immediately collected
an army and marched against his successful rival, who, overpowered by
superior numbers, fought with the courage of despair.

Hidden in a neighboring thicket, Hiordis and her maid anxiously watched
the battle, saw Sigmund pile the dead around him and triumph over every
foe, until at last a tall, one-eyed warrior suddenly appeared, broke
his matchless sword, and vanished, leaving him defenseless amid the
foe, who soon cut him down.

 “But, lo! through the hedge of the war-shafts, a mighty man there
          came,
  One-eyed and seeming ancient, but his visage shone like flame:
  Gleaming gray was his kirtle, and his hood was cloudy blue;
  And he bore a mighty twi-bill, as he waded the fight-sheaves through,
  And stood face to face with Sigmund, and upheaved the bill to smite.
  Once more round the head of the Volsung fierce glittered the
          Branstock’s light,
  The sword that came from Odin: and Sigmund’s cry once more
  Rang out to the very heavens above the din of war.
  Then clashed the meeting edges with Sigmund’s latest stroke,
  And in shivering shards fell earthward that fear of worldly folk.
  But changed were the eyes of Sigmund, the war-wrath left his face;
  For that gray-clad, mighty Helper was gone, and in his place
  Drave on the unbroken spear-wood ’gainst the Volsung’s empty hands:
  And there they smote down Sigmund, the wonder of all lands,
  On the foemen, on the death-heap his deeds had piled that day.”

All the Volsung race and army had already succumbed, so Lygni
immediately left the battlefield to hasten on and take possession
of the kingdom and palace, where he fully expected to find the fair
Hiordis and force her to become his wife. As soon as he had gone,
however, the beautiful young queen crept out of her hiding place in the
thicket, ran to the dying Sigmund, caught him to her breast in a last
passionate embrace, and tearfully listened to his dying words. He then
bade her gather up the fragments of his sword, carefully treasure them,
and give them to the son whom he foretold would soon be born, and who
was destined to avenge his death and be far greater than he.

 “‘I have wrought for the Volsungs truly, and yet have I known full
          well
  That a better one than I am shall bear the tale to tell:
  And for him shall these shards be smithied; and he shall be my son,
  To remember what I have forgotten and to do what I left undone.’”

[Sidenote: Elf, the viking.]

While Hiordis was mourning over Sigmund’s lifeless body, her watching
handmaiden warned her of the approach of a party of vikings. Retreating
into the thicket once more, Hiordis exchanged garments with her; then,
bidding her walk first and personate the queen, they went to meet the
viking Elf (Helfrat or Helferich), and so excited his admiration for
Sigmund that he buried him with all pomp, and promised them a safe
asylum in his house.

As he had doubted their relative positions from the very first moment,
he soon resorted to a seemingly idle question to ascertain their real
rank. The pretended queen, when asked how she knew the hour had come
for rising when the winter days were short and there was no light to
announce the coming of morn, replied that, as she was in the habit of
drinking milk ere she fed the cows, she always awoke thirsty. But when
the same question was put to the real Hiordis, she answered that she
knew it was morning because the golden ring her father had given her
grew cold on her hand.

[Sidenote: Sigurd.]

Elf, having thus discovered the true state of affairs, offered marriage
to the pretended handmaiden, Hiordis, promising to foster her child by
Sigmund--a promise which he nobly kept. The child was sprinkled with
water by his hand--a ceremony which our pagan ancestors scrupulously
performed--received from him the name of Sigurd, and grew up in the
palace. There he was treated as the king’s own son, receiving his
education from Regin, the wisest of men, who knew all things and was
even aware of his own fate, which was to fall by a youth’s hand.

 “Again in the house of the Helper there dwelt a certain man,
  Beardless and low of stature, of visage pinched and wan:
  So exceeding old was Regin, that no son of man could tell
  In what year of the days passed over he came to that land to dwell:
  But the youth of king Elf had he fostered, and the Helper’s
          youth thereto,
  Yea, and his father’s father’s: the lore of all men he knew,
  And was deft in every cunning, save the dealings of the sword:
  So sweet was his tongue-speech fashioned, that men trowed his every
          word;
  His hand with the harp-strings blended was the mingler of delight
  With the latter days of sorrow; all tales he told aright;
  The Master of the Masters in the smithying craft was he;
  And he dealt with the wind and the weather and the stilling of the
          sea;
  Nor might any learn him leech-craft, for before that race was made,
  And that man-folk’s generation, all their life-days had he weighed.”

Under this tutor young Sigurd grew up to great wisdom. He mastered
the smith craft, and the art of carving all manner of runes, learned
languages, music, and eloquence, and, last but not least, became a
doughty warrior whom none could subdue. By Regin’s advice, Sigurd,
having reached manhood, asked the king for a war horse--a request
which was immediately granted, for he was bidden hasten to Gripir, the
stud-keeper, and choose from his flock the steed he liked best.

On his way to the meadow where the horses were at pasture, Sigurd
encountered a one-eyed stranger, clad in gray and blue, who bade him
drive the horses into the river and select the one which could breast
the foaming tide most successfully.

Sigurd, acting according to this advice, noticed that one horse, after
crossing, raced around the meadow on the opposite side; then, plunging
back into the river, he returned to his former pasture without showing
any signs of fatigue. The young hero selected this horse, therefore,
calling him Grane or Greyfell. This steed was a descendant of Odin’s
eight-footed horse Sleipnir, and, besides being unusually strong and
indefatigable, was as fearless as his master. A short time after this,
while Regin and his pupil were sitting over the fire, the former struck
his harp, and, after the manner of the Northern scalds, sang or recited
the following tale, which was the story of his life:

[Sidenote: The treasure of the dwarf king.]

Hreidmar, king of the dwarf folk, was the father of three sons. Fafnir,
the eldest, was gifted with a fearless soul and a powerful hand; Otter,
the second, with snare and net, and the power of changing form at
will; and Regin, the third, could, as we have already seen, command
all knowledge and skillfully ply the trade of a smith. To please the
avaricious old Hreidmar, this youngest son fashioned for him a house
which was all lined with glittering gold and flashing gems, and guarded
by Fafnir, whose fierce glances and Ægis helmet none dared encounter.

Now it came to pass that Odin, Hoenir, and Loki once came down upon
earth in human guise for one of their wonted expeditions to test the
hearts of men, and soon reached the land where Hreidmar dwelt.

 “And the three were the heart-wise Odin, the Father of the Slain,
  And Loki, the World’s Begrudger, who maketh all labor vain,
  And Hönir, the Utter-Blameless, who wrought the hope of man,
  And his heart and inmost yearnings, when first the work began;--
  The God that was aforetime, and hereafter yet shall be
  When the new light yet undreamed of shall shine o’er earth and sea.”

These gods had not wandered very far before Loki perceived an otter
basking in the sun. Animated by his usual spirit of destruction, he
slew the unoffending beast--which, as it happened, was the dwarf king’s
second son, Otter--and flung its lifeless body over his shoulders,
thinking it would furnish a good dish when meal time came.

Following his companions, Loki came at last to Hreidmar’s house,
entered with them, and flung his burden down upon the floor. The moment
the dwarf king’s glance fell upon it he flew into a towering rage, and
before the gods could help themselves they were bound by his order, and
heard him declare that they should never recover their liberty unless
they could satisfy his thirst for gold by giving him enough of that
precious substance to cover the otterskin inside and out.

 “‘Now hearken the doom I shall speak! Ye stranger-folk shall be free
  When ye give me the Flame of the Waters, the gathered Gold of the Sea,
  That Andvari hideth rejoicing in the wan realm pale as the grave;
  And the Master of Sleight shall fetch it, and the hand that never
          gave,
  And the heart that begrudgeth forever, shall gather and give and rue.
  Lo, this is the doom of the wise, and no doom shall be spoken anew.’”

As this otterskin had the property of stretching itself out to a
fabulous size, no ordinary treasure could suffice to cover it. The gods
therefore bade Loki, who was liberated to procure the ransom, hasten
off to the waterfall where the dwarf Andvari dwelt, and secure the
treasure he had amassed by magical means.

 “There is a desert of dread in the uttermost part of the world,
  Where over a wall of mountains is a mighty water hurled,
  Whose hidden head none knoweth, nor where it meeteth the sea;
  And that force is the Force of Andvari, and an Elf of the dark is he.
  In the cloud and the desert he dwelleth amid that land alone;
  And his work is the storing of treasure within his house of stone.”

In spite of diligent search, however, Loki could not find the dwarf;
but perceiving a salmon sporting in the foaming waters, he shrewdly
concluded the dwarf must have assumed this shape, and borrowing Ran’s
net he soon had the fish in his power. As he had suspected, it was
Andvari, who, in exchange for liberty, reluctantly brought forth
his mighty treasure and surrendered it all, including the Helmet of
Dread and a hauberk of gold, reserving only the ring he wore, which
was gifted with miraculous powers, and, like a magnet, helped him to
collect the precious ore. But the greedy Loki, catching sight of it,
wrenched it away from him and departed laughing, while the dwarf hurled
angry curses after him, declaring that the ring would ever prove its
possessor’s bane and would cause the death of many.

 “That gold
  Which the dwarf possessed
  Shall to two brothers
  Be cause of death,
  And to eight princes,
  Of dissension.
  From my wealth no one
  Shall good derive.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

On arriving at Hreidmar’s hut, Loki found the mighty treasure none
too great, for the skin widened and spread, and he was even forced
to give the ring Andvaranaut (Andvari’s loom) to purchase his and his
companions’ release. The gold thus obtained soon became a curse, as
Andvari had predicted, for Fafnir and Regin both coveted a share. As
for Hreidmar, he gloated over his treasure night and day, and Fafnir
the invincible, seeing that he could not obtain it otherwise, slew
his own father, donned the Helmet of Dread and the hauberk of gold,
grasped the sword Hrotti, and when Regin came to claim a part drove him
scornfully out into the world, where he bade him earn his own living.

Thus exiled, Regin took refuge among men, to whom he taught the arts of
sowing and reaping. He showed them how to work metals, sail the seas,
tame horses, yoke beasts of burden, build houses, spin, weave, and
sew--in short, all the industries of civilized life, which had hitherto
been unknown. Years elapsed, and Regin patiently bided his time, hoping
that some day he would find a hero strong enough to avenge his wrongs
upon Fafnir, whom years of gloating over his treasure had changed into
a horrible dragon, the terror of Gnîtaheid (Glittering Heath), where he
had taken up his abode.

His story finished, Regin suddenly turned to the attentive Sigurd, told
him he knew that he could slay the dragon if he wished, and inquired
whether he were ready to help his old tutor avenge his wrongs.

 “And he spake: ‘Hast thou hearkened, Sigurd? Wilt thou help a
          man that is old
  To avenge him for his father? Wilt thou win that treasure of gold
  And be more than the kings of the earth? Wilt thou rid the
          earth of a wrong
  And heal the woe and the sorrow my heart hath endured o’er long?’”

[Sidenote: Sigurd’s sword.]

Sigurd immediately assented, declaring, however, that the curse must
be assumed by Regin, for he would have none of it; and, in order
to be well prepared for the coming fight, he asked his master to
forge him a sword which no blow could break. Twice Regin fashioned a
marvelous weapon, but twice Sigurd broke it to pieces on the anvil.
Then, declaring that he must have a sword which would not fail him in
time of need, he begged the broken fragments of Sigmund’s weapon from
his mother Hiordis, and either forged himself or made Regin forge a
matchless blade, whose temper was such that it neatly severed some wool
floating gently down the stream, and divided the great anvil in two
without being even dinted.

After paying a farewell visit to Gripir, who, knowing the future,
foretold every event in his coming career, Sigurd took leave of his
mother, and accompanied by Regin set sail from his native land,
promising to slay the dragon as soon as he had fulfilled his first
duty, which was to avenge his father Sigmund’s death.

 “‘First wilt thou, prince,
  Avenge thy father,
  And for the wrongs of Eglymi
  Wilt retaliate.
  Thou wilt the cruel,
  The sons of Hunding,
  Boldly lay low:
  Thou wilt have victory.’”

              LAY OF SIGURD FAFNICIDE (Thorpe’s tr.).

On his way to the Volsung land Sigurd saw a man walking on the waters,
and took him on board, little suspecting that this individual, who said
his name was Feng or Fiöllnir, was Odin or Hnikar, the wave stiller.
He therefore conversed freely with the stranger, who promised him
favorable winds, and learned from him how to distinguish auspicious
from unauspicious omens.

[Sidenote: The fight with the dragon.]

After slaying Lygni and cutting the bloody eagle on his foes, Sigurd
left his reconquered kingdom and went with Regin to slay Fafnir. A long
ride through the mountains, which rose higher and higher before him,
brought him at last to his goal, where a one-eyed stranger bade him dig
trenches in the middle of the track along which the dragon daily rolled
his slimy length to go down to the river and quench his thirst. He
then bade Sigurd cower in one of those holes, and there wait until the
monster passed over him, when he could drive his trusty weapon straight
into its heart.

[Illustration: SIGURD AND THE DRAGON.--K. Dielitz.]

Sigurd gratefully followed this advice, and as the monster’s loathsome,
slimy folds rolled overhead he thrust his sword under its left breast,
and, deluged with blood, sprang out of the trench as the dragon rolled
aside in the throes of death.

 “Then all sank into silence, and the son of Sigmund stood
  On the torn and furrowed desert by the pool of Fafnir’s blood,
  And the serpent lay before him, dead, chilly, dull, and gray;
  And over the Glittering Heath fair shone the sun and the day,
  And a light wind followed the sun and breathed o’er the fateful place,
  As fresh as it furrows the sea plain, or bows the acres’ face.”

Regin, who had prudently remained at a distance until all danger was
over, seeing his foe was slain, now came up to Sigurd; and fearing
lest the strong young conqueror should glory in his deed and claim a
reward, he began to accuse him of having murdered his kin, and declared
that instead of requiring life for life, as was his right according to
Northern law, he would consider it sufficient atonement if Sigurd would
cut out the monster’s heart and roast it for him on a spit.

 “Then Regin spake to Sigurd: ‘Of this slaying wilt thou be free?
  Then gather thou fire together and roast the heart for me,
  That I may eat it and live, and be thy master and more;
  For therein was might and wisdom, and the grudged and hoarded lore:--
  Or else depart on thy ways afraid from the Glittering Heath.’”

Sigurd, knowing that a true warrior never refused satisfaction of some
kind to the kindred of the slain, immediately prepared to act as cook,
while Regin dozed until the meat was ready. Feeling of the heart to
ascertain whether it were tender, Sigurd burned his fingers so severely
that he instinctively thrust them into his mouth to allay the smart.
No sooner had Fafnir’s blood touched his lips than he discovered, to
his utter surprise, that he could understand the songs of the birds,
which were already gathering around the carrion. Listening to them
attentively, he found they were advising him to slay Regin, appropriate
the gold, eat the heart and drink the blood of the dragon; and as this
advice entirely coincided with his own wishes, he lost no time in
executing it. A small portion of Fafnir’s heart was reserved for future
consumption, ere he wandered off in search of the mighty hoard. Then,
after donning the Helmet of Dread, the hauberk of gold, and the ring
Andvaranaut, and loading Greyfell with as much ruddy gold as he could
carry, Sigurd sprang on his horse, listening eagerly to the birds’
songs to know what he had best undertake next.

[Sidenote: The sleeping warrior maiden.]

Soon he heard them sing of a warrior maiden fast asleep on a mountain
and all surrounded by a glittering barrier of flames; through which
only the bravest of men could pass in order to arouse her.

 “On the fell I know
  A warrior maid to sleep;
  Over her waves
  The linden’s bane:
  Ygg whilom stuck
  A sleep-thorn in the robe
  Of the maid who
  Would heroes choose.”

              LAY OF FAFNIR (Thorpe’s tr.).

After riding for a long while through trackless regions, Sigurd at
last came to the Hindarfiall in Frankland, a tall mountain whose
cloud-wreathed summit seemed circled by fiery flames.

 “Long Sigurd rideth the waste, when, lo! on a morning of day,
  From out of the tangled crag walls, amidst the cloudland gray,
  Comes up a mighty mountain, and it is as though there burns
  A torch amidst of its cloud wreath; so thither Sigurd turns,
  For he deems indeed from its topmost to look on the best of the earth;
  And Greyfell neigheth beneath him, and his heart is full of mirth.”

Riding straight up this mountain, he saw the light grow more and
more vivid, and soon a barrier of lurid flames stood before him; but
although the fire crackled and roared, it could not daunt our hero, who
plunged bravely into its very midst.

 “Now Sigurd turns in his saddle, and the hilt of the Wrath he shifts,
  And draws a girth the tighter; then the gathered reins he lifts,
  And crieth aloud to Greyfell, and rides at the wildfire’s heart;
  But the white wall wavers before him and the flame-flood rusheth apart,
  And high o’er his head it riseth, and wide and wild its roar
  As it beareth the mighty tidings to the very heavenly floor:
  But he rideth through its roaring as the warrior rides the rye,
  When it bows with the wind of the summer and the hid spears draw anigh;
  The white flame licks his raiment and sweeps through Greyfell’s mane,
  And bathes both hands of Sigurd and the hilt of Fafnir’s bane,
  And winds about his war-helm and mingles with his hair,
  But naught his raiment dusketh or dims his glittering gear;
  Then it fails and fades and darkens till all seems left behind,
  And dawn and the blaze is swallowed in mid-mirk stark and blind.”

No sooner had Sigurd thus fearlessly sprung into the very heart of
the flames than the fire flickered and died out, leaving nothing but
a broad circle of white ashes, through which he rode until he came
to a great castle, with shield-hung walls, in which he penetrated
unchallenged, for the gates were wide open and no warders or men at
arms were to be seen. Proceeding cautiously, for he feared some snare,
Sigurd at last came to the center of the inclosure, where he saw a
recumbent form all cased in armor. To remove the helmet was but a
moment’s work, but Sigurd started back in surprise when he beheld,
instead of a warrior, the sleeping face of a most beautiful woman.

All his efforts to awaken her were quite vain, however, until he had
cut the armor off her body, and she lay before him in pure-white linen
garments, her long golden hair rippling and waving around her. As the
last fastening of her armor gave way, she opened wide her beautiful
eyes, gazed in rapture upon the rising sun, and after greeting it with
enthusiasm she turned to her deliverer, whom she loved at first sight,
as he loved her.

 “Then she turned and gazed on Sigurd, and her eyes met the
          Volsung’s eyes.
  And mighty and measureless now did the tide of his love arise,
  For their longing had met and mingled, and he knew of her heart
          that she loved,
  And she spake unto nothing but him, and her lips with the speech-flood
          moved.”

The maiden now proceeded to inform Sigurd that she was Brunhild,
according to some authorities the daughter of an earthly king. Odin had
raised her to the rank of a Valkyr, in which capacity she had served
him faithfully for a long while. But once she had ventured to set
her own wishes above his, and, instead of leaving the victory to the
old king for whom he had designated it, had favored his younger and
therefore more attractive opponent.

In punishment for this act of disobedience, she was deprived of her
office and banished to earth, where Allfather decreed she must marry
like any other member of her sex. This sentence filled Brunhild’s heart
with dismay, for she greatly feared lest it might be her fate to mate
with a coward, whom she would despise. To quiet these apprehensions,
Odin placed her on Hindarfiall or Hindfell, stung her with the Thorn of
Sleep, that she might await in unchanged youth and beauty the coming of
her destined husband and surrounded her with a barrier of flame which
none but the bravest would venture to pass through.

From the top of the Hindarfiall, Brunhild now pointed out to Sigurd
her former home, at Lymdale or Hunaland, telling him he would find her
there whenever he chose to come and claim her as his wife; and then,
while they stood on the lonely mountain top together, Sigurd placed the
ring Andvaranaut upon her hand, in sign of betrothal, swearing to love
her alone as long as life endured.

[Illustration: BRUNHILD’S AWAKENING.--Th. Pixis.]

 “From his hand then draweth Sigurd Andvari’s ancient Gold;
  There is naught but the sky above them as the ring together they hold,
  The shapen-ancient token, that hath no change nor end,
  No change, and no beginning, no flaw for God to mend:
  Then Sigurd cries: ‘O Brynhild, now hearken while I swear
  That the sun shall die in the heavens and the day no more be fair,
  If I seek not love in Lymdale and the house that fostered thee,
  And the land where thou awakedst ’twixt the woodland and the sea!
  And she cried: ‘O Sigurd, Sigurd, now hearken while I swear
  That the day shall die forever and the sun to blackness wear,
  Ere I forget thee, Sigurd, as I lie ’twixt wood and sea
  In the little land of Lymdale and the house that fostered me!’”

[Sidenote: The fostering of Aslaug.]

According to some authorities, after thus plighting their troth the
lovers parted; according to others, Sigurd soon sought out and married
Brunhild, with whom he lived for a while in perfect happiness, until
forced to leave her and his infant daughter Aslaug. This child, left
orphaned at three years of age, was fostered by Brunhild’s father, who,
driven away from home, concealed her in a cunningly fashioned harp,
until reaching a distant land he was murdered by a peasant couple for
the sake of the gold they supposed it to contain. Their surprise and
disappointment were great indeed when, on breaking the instrument open,
they found a beautiful little girl, whom they deemed mute, as she would
not speak a word. Time passed on, and the child, whom they had trained
to do all their labor, grew up to be a beautiful maiden who won the
affections of a passing viking, Ragnar Lodbrog, King of the Danes, to
whom she told her tale. After a year’s probation, during which he won
glory in many lands, he came back and married her.

 “She heard a voice she deemed well known,
  Long waited through dull hours bygone,
  And round her mighty arms were cast:
  But when her trembling red lips passed
  From out the heaven of that dear kiss,
  And eyes met eyes, she saw in his
  Fresh pride, fresh hope, fresh love, and saw
  The long sweet days still onward draw,
  Themselves still going hand in hand,
  As now they went adown the strand.”

              THE FOSTERING OF ASLAUG (William Morris).

The story of Sigurd and Brunhild did not end on the Hindarfial,
however, for the hero soon went to seek adventures in the great world,
where he had vowed, in true knightly fashion, to right the wrong and
defend the fatherless and oppressed.

[Sidenote: The Niblungs.]

In the course of his wanderings, Sigurd finally came to the land of
the Niblungs, the land of continual mist, where Giuki and Grimhild
were king and queen. The latter was specially powerful, as she was
well versed in magic lore and could not only weave spells and mutter
incantations, but could also concoct marvelous potions which would
steep the drinker in temporary forgetfulness and make him yield to
whatever she wished.

The Niblung king was father of three sons, Gunnar, Högni, and Guttorm,
who were brave young men, and of one daughter, Gudrun, the gentlest as
well as the most beautiful of maidens. Sigurd was warmly welcomed by
Giuki, and invited to tarry awhile. He accepted the invitation, shared
all the pleasures and occupations of the Niblungs, even accompanying
them to war, where he distinguished himself by his valor, and so won
the admiration of Grimhild that she resolved to secure him as her
daughter’s husband at any price. She therefore brewed one of her magic
potions, which she bade Gudrun give him, and when he had partaken of
it, he utterly forgot Brunhild and his plighted troth, and gazed upon
Gudrun with an admiration which by the queen’s machinations was soon
changed to ardent love.

 “But the heart was changed in Sigurd; as though it ne’er had been
  His love of Brynhild perished as he gazed on the Niblung Queen:
  Brynhild’s beloved body was e’en as a wasted hearth,
  No more for bale or blessing, for plenty or for dearth.”

Although haunted by a vague dread that he had forgotten something
important, Sigurd asked for and obtained Gudrun’s hand, and celebrated
his wedding amid the rejoicings of the people, who loved him very
dearly. He gave his bride some of Fafnir’s heart to eat, and the moment
she had tasted it her nature was changed, and she began to grow cold
and silent to all except him. Sigurd further cemented his alliance with
the eldest two Giukings (as the sons of Giuki were called) by stepping
down into the doom ring with them, cutting out a sod which was placed
upon a shield, beneath which they stood while they bared and slightly
cut their right arms, and allowing their blood to mingle in the fresh
earth, over which the sod was again laid after they had sworn eternal
friendship.

But although Sigurd loved his wife and felt true brotherly affection
for her brothers, he could not get rid of his haunting sense of
oppression, and was seldom seen to smile as radiantly as of old. Giuki
having died, Grimhild besought Gunnar, his successor, to take a wife,
suggesting that none seemed more worthy to become Queen of the Niblungs
than Brunhild, who, it was reported, sat in a golden hall surrounded
by flames, whence she had declared she would issue only to marry the
warrior who would dare pass through the fire to her side.

[Sidenote: Gunnar’s stratagem.]

Gunnar immediately prepared to seek this bride, and strengthened by
one of his mother’s magic potions, and encouraged by Sigurd, who
accompanied him, he felt very confident of success. But when he would
daringly have ridden straight into the fire, his steed drew back
affrighted and he could not induce him to advance a step. Seeing that
Greyfell did not flinch, he asked him of Sigurd; but although the steed
allowed Gunnar to mount, he would not stir unless his master were on
his back. Gunnar, disappointed, sprang to earth and accepted Sigurd’s
proposal to assume his face and form, ride through the flames, and woo
the bride by proxy. This deception could easily be carried out, thanks
to the Helmet of Dread, and to a magic potion which Grimhild had given
Gunnar.

The transformation having been brought about, Greyfell bounded through
the flames with his master, and bore him to the palace door, where
he dismounted, and entering the large hall came into the presence of
Brunhild, whom he failed to recognize, owing to Grimhild’s spell.
Brunhild started back in dismay when she saw the dark-haired knight,
for she had deemed it utterly impossible for any but Sigurd to cross
the flames, and she, too, did not know her lover in his altered guise.

Reluctantly she rose from her seat to receive him, and as she had bound
herself by a solemn oath to accept as husband the man who braved the
flames, she allowed him to take his lawful place by her side. Sigurd
silently approached, carefully laid his drawn sword between them, and
satisfied Brunhild’s curiosity concerning this singular behavior by
telling her that the gods had bidden him celebrate his wedding thus.

 “There they went in one bed together; but the foster-brother laid
  ’Twixt him and the body of Brynhild his bright blue battle-blade,
  And she looked and heeded it nothing; but, e’en as the dead folk lie,
  With folded hands she lay there, and let the night go by:
  And as still lay that image of Gunnar as the dead of life forlorn,
  And hand on hand he folded as he waited for the morn.
  So oft in the moonlit minster your fathers may ye see
  By the side of the ancient mothers await the day to be.”

Three days passed thus, and when the fourth morning dawned, Sigurd drew
the ring Andvaranaut from Brunhild’s hand, replaced it by another, and
received her solemn promise that in ten days’ time she would appear at
the Niblung court to take up her duties as queen and be a faithful wife.

[Illustration: GUDRUN GIVING THE MAGIC DRINK TO SIGURD.--Th. Pixis.]

 “I thank thee, King, for thy goodwill, and thy pledge of love I take.
  Depart with my troth to thy people: but ere full ten days are o’er
  I shall come to the Sons of the Niblungs, and then shall we
          part no more
  Till the day of the change of our life-days, when Odin and Freya
          shall call.”

Then Sigurd again passed out of the palace through the ashes lying
white and cold, and joined Gunnar, with whom he hastened to exchange
forms once more, after he had reported the success of his venture. The
warriors rode homeward together, and Sigurd revealed only to Gudrun the
secret of her brother’s wooing, giving her the fatal ring, which he
little suspected would be the cause of many woes.

True to her promise, Brunhild appeared ten days later, solemnly
blessed the house she was about to enter, greeted Gunnar kindly, and
allowed him to conduct her to the great hall, where she saw Sigurd
seated beside Gudrun. He looked up at the selfsame moment, and as he
encountered Brunhild’s reproachful glance Grimhild’s spell was broken
and he was struck by an anguished recollection of the happy past. It
was too late, however: they were both in honor bound, he to Gudrun and
she to Gunnar, whom she passively followed to the high seat, where she
sat beside him listening to the songs of the bards.

But, although apparently calm, Brunhild’s heart was hot with anger,
and she silently nursed her wrath, often stealing out of her husband’s
palace to wander alone in the forest, where she could give vent to her
grief.

In the mean while, Gunnar, seeing his wife so coldly indifferent to
all his protestations of affection, began to have jealous suspicions
and wondered whether Sigurd had honestly told the whole story of the
wooing, and whether he had not taken advantage of his position to
win Brunhild’s love. Sigurd alone continued the even tenor of his
way, doing good to all, fighting none but tyrants and oppressors, and
cheering all he met by his kindly words and smile.

[Sidenote: Quarrel of the queens.]

One day the queens went down to the Rhine to bathe, and as they were
entering the water Gudrun claimed precedence by right of her husband’s
courage. Brunhild refused to yield what she deemed her right, and a
quarrel ensued, in the course of which Gudrun accused her sister-in-law
of infidelity, producing the ring Andvaranaut in support of her
charge. Crushed by this revelation, Brunhild hastened homeward, and
lay on her bed in speechless grief day after day, until all thought
she would die. In vain did Gunnar and all the members of the royal
family seek her in turn and implore her to speak; she would not utter
a word until Sigurd came and inquired the cause of her great grief.
Like a long-pent-up stream, her love and anger now burst forth, and
she overwhelmed the hero with reproaches, until his heart swelled with
grief for her sorrow and burst the tight bands of his strong armor.

 “Out went Sigurd
  From that interview
  Into the hall of kings,
  Writhing with anguish;
  So that began to start
  The ardent warrior’s
  Iron-woven sark
  Off from his sides.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

But although he even offered to repudiate Gudrun to reinstate her in
her former rights, she refused to listen to his words, and dismissed
him, saying that she must never prove faithless to Gunnar. Her pride
was such, however, that she could not endure the thought that two
living men had called her wife, and the next time her husband sought
her presence she implored him to put Sigurd to death, thus increasing
his jealousy and suspicions. He refused to grant this prayer because he
had sworn good fellowship with Sigurd, and she prevailed upon Högni to
work her will. As he, too, did not wish to violate his oath, he induced
Guttorm, by means of much persuasion and one of Grimhild’s potions, to
do the dastardly deed.

[Sidenote: Death of Sigurd.]

In the dead of night, Guttorm stole into Sigurd’s chamber, sword in
hand; but as he bent over the bed he saw Sigurd’s bright eyes fixed
upon him, and fled precipitately. Later on he returned and the same
scene was repeated; but towards morning, when he stole in for the
third time, he found the hero asleep and traitorously drove his spear
through his back.

Mortally wounded, Sigurd raised himself in bed, grasped his wonderful
sword hanging beside him, flung it full at the flying murderer, and cut
him in two just as he reached the door. His last remaining strength
thus exhausted, Sigurd sank back, whispered a last farewell to the
terrified Gudrun, and breathed his last.

 “‘Mourn not, O Gudrun, this stroke is the last of ill;
  Fear leaveth the house of the Niblungs on this breaking of the morn;
  Mayest thou live, O woman belovèd, unforsaken, unforlorn!
  It is Brynhild’s deed,’ he murmured, ‘and the woman that loves me well;
  Naught now is left to repent of, and the tale abides to tell.
  I have done many deeds in my life-days; and all these, and my
          love they lie
  In the hollow hand of Odin till the day of the world go by.
  I have done and I may not undo, I have given and I take not again:
  Art thou other than I, Allfather, wilt thou gather my glory in vain?’”

Sigurd’s infant son was also slain, and poor Gudrun mourned over her
dead in speechless, tearless grief; while Brunhild laughed aloud,
thereby incurring the wrath of Gunnar, who repented now, but too late,
of his share in the dastardly crime.

While the assembled people were erecting a mighty funeral pyre--which
they decorated with precious hangings, fresh flowers, and glittering
arms, as was the custom for the burial of a prince--Gudrun was
surrounded by women, who, seeing her tearless anguish, and fearing lest
her heart would break if her tears did not flow, began to recount the
bitterest sorrows they had known, one even telling of the loss of all
she held dear. But their attempts to make her weep were utterly vain,
until they laid her husband’s head in her lap, bidding her kiss him as
if he were still alive; then her tears began to flow in torrents.

The reaction soon set in for Brunhild also; her resentment was all
forgotten when she saw Sigurd laid on the pyre in all his martial
array, with the burnished armor, the Helmet of Dread, and the trappings
of his horse, which was to be burned with him, as well as several of
his faithful servants who could not survive his loss. She withdrew to
her apartment, distributed all her wealth among her handmaidens, donned
her richest array, and stretching herself out upon her bed stabbed
herself.

In dying accents she then bade Gunnar lay her beside the hero she
loved, with the glittering, unsheathed sword between them, as it had
lain when he had wooed her by proxy. When she had breathed her last,
these orders were punctually executed, and both bodies were burned amid
the lamentations of all the Niblungs.

 “They are gone--the lovely, the mighty, the hope of the ancient Earth:
  It shall labor and bear the burden as before that day of their birth:
  It shall groan in its blind abiding for the day that Sigurd hath sped,
  And the hour that Brynhild hath hastened, and the dawn that
          waketh the dead:
  It shall yearn, and be oft-times holpen, and forget their deeds no
          more,
  Till the new sun beams on Balder and the happy sealess shore.”

According to another version of the story, Sigurd was treacherously
slain by the Giukings while hunting in the forest, and his body was
borne home by the hunters and laid at his wife’s feet.

Gudrun, still inconsolable, and loathing the kindred who had thus
treacherously robbed her of all her joy, fled from her father’s house
and took refuge with Elf, Sigurd’s foster father, who, after Hiordis’s
death, had married Thora, the daughter of King Hakon. The two women
became great friends, and here Gudrun tarried several years, working
tapestry in which she embroidered the great deeds of Sigurd, and
watching over her little daughter Swanhild, whose bright eyes reminded
her so vividly of the husband whom she had lost.

[Illustration: BRUNHILD.--Th. Pixis.]

[Sidenote: Atli, King of the Huns.]

In the mean while, Atli, Brunhild’s brother, who was now King of the
Huns, had sent to Gunnar to demand atonement for his sister’s death;
and to satisfy these claims Gunnar had promised that in due time he
would give him Gudrun’s hand in marriage. Time passed, and when at last
Atli clamored for the fulfillment of his promise, the Niblung brothers,
with their mother Grimhild, went to seek the long-absent Gudrun, and
by their persuasions and the magic potion administered by Grimhild
succeeded in persuading her to leave little Swanhild in Denmark and
become Atli’s wife.

Gudrun dwelt, year after year, in the land of the Huns, secretly hating
her husband, whose avaricious tendencies were extremely repugnant to
her; and she was not even consoled for Sigurd’s death and Swanhild’s
loss by the birth of two sons, Erp and Eitel. As she lovingly thought
of the past she often spoke of it, little suspecting that her
descriptions of the wealth of the Niblungs excited Atli’s greed, and
that he was secretly planning some pretext for getting it into his
power.

Finally he decided to send Knefrud or Wingi, one of his subjects, to
invite all the Niblung princes to visit his court, intending to slay
them when he should have them at his mercy; but Gudrun, fathoming this
design, sent a runic-written warning to her brothers, together with the
ring Andvaranaut, around which she had twined a wolf’s hair. On the
way, however, the messenger partly effaced the runes, thus changing
their meaning; and when he appeared before the Niblungs, Gunnar
accepted the invitation, in spite of Högni’s and Grimhild’s warnings
and the ominous dream of his new wife Glaumvor.

[Sidenote: Burial of the Niblung treasure.]

Before his departure, however, they prevailed upon him to secretly bury
the great Niblung hoard in the Rhine, where it was sunk in a deep hole,
the position of which was known to the royal brothers only, and which
they took a solemn oath never to reveal.

 “Down then and whirling outward the ruddy Gold fell forth,
  As a flame in the dim gray morning flashed out a kingdom’s worth;
  Then the waters roared above it, the wan water and the foam
  Flew up o’er the face of the rock-wall as the tinkling Gold fell home,
  Unheard, unseen forever, a wonder and a tale,
  Till the last of earthly singers from the sons of men shall fail.”

[Sidenote: The treachery of Atli.]

In martial array they then rode out of the city of the Niblungs, which
they were never again to see, and after many unimportant adventures
came into the land of the Huns, where, on reaching Atli’s hall and
finding themselves surrounded by foes, they slew the traitor Knefrud,
and prepared to sell their lives as dearly as possible.

Gudrun rushed to meet them, embraced them tenderly, and, seeing that
they must fight, grasped a weapon and loyally helped them in the
terrible massacre which ensued. When the first onslaught was over,
Gunnar kept up the spirits of his followers by playing on his harp,
which he laid aside only to grasp his sword and make havoc among the
foe. Thrice the brave Niblungs resisted the assault of the Huns ere,
wounded, faint, and weary, Gunnar and Högni, now sole survivors, fell
into the hands of their foes, who bound them securely and led them off
to prison to await death.

Atli, who had prudently abstained from taking any active part in the
fight, had his brothers-in-law brought in turn before him, promising
freedom if they would only reveal the hiding place of the golden hoard;
but they proudly kept silence, and it was only after much torture that
Gunnar acknowledged that he had sworn a solemn oath never to reveal
the secret as long as Högni lived, and declared he would believe his
brother dead only when his heart was brought to him on a platter.

 “With a dreadful voice cried Gunnar: ‘O fool, hast thou heard it told
  Who won the Treasure aforetime and the ruddy rings of the Gold?
  It was Sigurd, child of the Volsungs, the best sprung forth
          from the best:
  He rode from the North and the mountains, and became my summer-guest,
  My friend and my brother sworn: he rode the Wavering Fire,
  And won me the Queen of Glory and accomplished my desire;
  The praise of the world he was, the hope of the biders in wrong,
  The help of the lowly people, the hammer of the strong:
  Ah! oft in the world, henceforward, shall the tale be told
          of the deed,
  And I, e’en I, will tell it in the day of the Niblungs’ Need:
  For I sat night-long in my armor, and when light was wide o’er the land
  I slaughtered Sigurd my brother, and looked on the work of mine hand.
  And now, O mighty Atli, I have seen the Niblung’s wreck,
  And the feet of the faint-heart dastard have trodden Gunnar’s neck;
  And if all be little enough, and the Gods begrudge me rest,
  Let me see the heart of Högni cut quick from his living breast
  And laid on the dish before me: and then shall I tell of the Gold,
  And become thy servant, Atli, and my life at thy pleasure hold.’”

Urged by greed, Atli immediately ordered that Högni’s heart should be
brought; but his servants, fearing to lay hands on such a grim warrior,
slew the cowardly scullion Hialli. This trembling heart called forth
contemptuous words from Gunnar, who declared such a timorous organ
could never have belonged to his fearless brother. But when, in answer
to a second angry command from Atli, the unquivering heart of Högni
was really brought, Gunnar recognized it, and turning to the monarch
solemnly swore that since the secret now rested with him alone it would
never be revealed.

[Sidenote: The last of the Niblungs.]

Livid with anger, the king bade him be thrown, with bound hands, into a
den of venomous snakes, where, his harp having been flung after him in
derision, Gunnar calmly sat, playing it with his toes, and lulling all
the reptiles to sleep save one only. This snake was said to be Atli’s
mother in disguise, and it finally bit him in the side, silencing his
triumphant song forever.

To celebrate the death of his foes, Atli ordered a great feast,
commanding Gudrun to be present to wait upon him. Then he heartily
ate and drank, little suspecting that his wife had slain both his
sons, and was serving up their roasted hearts and their blood mixed
with wine in cups made of their skulls. When the king and his men were
intoxicated, Gudrun, according to one version of the story, set fire to
the palace, and when the drunken sleepers awoke, too late to escape,
she revealed all she had done, stabbed her husband, and perished in
the flames with the Huns. According to another version, however, she
murdered Atli with Sigurd’s sword, placed his body on a ship, which she
sent adrift, and then cast herself into the sea, where she was drowned.

 “She spread out her arms as she spake it, and away from the
          earth she leapt
  And cut off her tide of returning; for the sea-waves over her swept,
  And their will is her will henceforward, and who knoweth the
          deeps of the sea,
  And the wealth of the bed of Gudrun, and the days that yet shall be?”

A third and very different version reports that Gudrun was not drowned,
but was borne along by the waves to the land where Jonakur was king.
There she became his wife, and the mother of three sons, Sörli,
Hamdir, and Erp. She also recovered possession of her beloved daughter
Swanhild, who, in the mean while, had grown into a beautiful maiden of
marriageable age.

[Sidenote: Swanhild.]

Swanhild was finally promised to Ermenrich, King of Gothland, who sent
his son, Randwer, and one of his subjects, Sibich, to escort the bride
to his kingdom. Sibich, who was a traitor, and had planned to compass
the death of the royal family that he might claim the kingdom, accused
Randwer of having tried to win his young stepmother’s affections, and
thereby so roused the anger of Ermenrich that he ordered his son to be
hanged, and Swanhild to be trampled to death under the feet of wild
horses. But such was the beauty of this daughter of Sigurd and Gudrun
that even the wild steeds could not be urged to touch her until she had
been hidden from their view under a great blanket, when they trod her
to death under their cruel hoofs.

[Illustration: HÖGNI THROWING THE TREASURE INTO THE RHINE.--Julius
Schnorr.]

Gudrun, hearing of this, called her three sons to her side, and
provided them with armor and weapons against which nothing but stone
could prevail. Then, after bidding them depart and avenge their
murdered sister, she died of grief, and was burned on a great pyre. The
three youths, Sörli, Hamdir, and Erp, invaded Ermenrich’s kingdom, but
the two eldest, deeming Erp too young to assist them, taunted him with
his small size, and finally slew him. They then attacked Ermenrich, cut
off his hands and feet, and would have slain him had not a one-eyed
stranger suddenly appeared and bidden the bystanders throw stones at
the young invaders. His orders were immediately carried out, and Sörli
and Hamdir both fell under the shower of stones, which alone had power
to injure them according to Gudrun’s words.

 “Ye have heard of Sigurd aforetime, how the foes of God he slew;
  How forth from the darksome desert the Gold of the Waters he drew;
  How he wakened Love on the Mountain, and wakened Brynhild the Bright,
  And dwelt upon Earth for a season, and shone in all men’s sight.
  Ye have heard of the Cloudy People, and the dimming of the day,
  And the latter world’s confusion, and Sigurd gone away;
  Now ye know of the Need of the Niblungs and the end of broken troth,
  All the death of kings and of kindreds and the Sorrow of Odin the Goth.”

[Sidenote: Interpretation of the Saga.]

This story of the Volsungs is supposed by some authorities to be a
series of sun myths, in which Sigi, Rerir, Volsung, Sigmund, and
Sigurd in turn personify the glowing orb of day. They are all armed
with invincible swords, the sunbeams, and all travel through the world
fighting against their foes, the demons of cold and darkness. Sigurd,
like Balder, is beloved of all; he marries Brunhild, the dawn maiden,
whom he finds in the midst of flames, the flush of morn, and parts from
her only to find her again when his career is ended. His body is burned
on the funeral pyre, which, like Balder’s, represents either the
setting sun or the last gleam of summer, of which he too is a type. The
slaying of Fafnir is the destruction of the demon of cold or darkness,
who has stolen the golden hoard of summer or the yellow rays of the sun.

According to other authorities this Saga is based upon history. Atli is
the cruel Attila, the “Scourge of God,” while Gunnar is Gundicarius, a
Burgundian monarch, whose kingdom was destroyed by the Huns, and who
was slain with his brothers in 451. Gudrun is the Burgundian princess
Ildico, who slew her husband on her wedding night, as has already been
related, using the glittering blade which had once belonged to the
sun-god to avenge her murdered kinsmen.




CHAPTER XXVII.

THE TWILIGHT OF THE GODS.


One of the distinctive features of Northern mythology is that the
people always believed that their gods belonged to a finite race. The
Æsir had had a beginning; therefore, it was reasoned, they must have an
end; and as they were born from a mixture of the divine and gigantic
elements, and were imperfect, they bore within them the germ of death,
and were, like men, doomed to endure physical death to attain spiritual
immortality.

[Sidenote: The decline of the gods.]

The whole scheme of Northern mythology was therefore a drama, every
step leading gradually to the climax or tragic end, when, with true
poetic justice, punishment and reward were impartially meted out. In
the foregoing chapters, the gradual rise and decline of the gods has
been carefully traced. We have recounted how the Æsir tolerated the
presence of evil, personated by Loki, in their midst; how they weakly
followed his advice, allowed him to involve them in all manner of
difficulties from which they could be extricated only at the price
of some of their virtue or peace, and finally permitted him to gain
such ascendency over them that he dared rob them of their dearest
possession, purity, or innocence, as personified by Balder the good.

Too late now, the gods realized what an evil spirit had found a home
among them, and banished Loki to earth, where men, following the gods’
example, listened to his teachings, and instead of cultivating virtue
became addicted to crime.

 “Brothers slay brothers;
  Sisters’ children
  Shed each other’s blood.
  Hard is the world;
  Sensual sin grows huge.
  There are sword-ages, ax-ages;
  Shields are cleft in twain;
  Storm-ages, murder-ages;
  Till the world falls dead,
  And men no longer spare
  Or pity one another.”

              NORSE MYTHOLOGY (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: The Fimbulwinter.]

Seeing crime rampant, and all good banished from the earth, the gods
realized that the prophecies uttered long before were about to be
fulfilled, and that their downfall, Ragnarok, the twilight or dusk of
the gods, would soon come to pass. Sol and Mani grew pale with horror,
and tremblingly drove their chariots along their appointed paths,
gazing with fear behind them at the pursuing wolves which would shortly
overtake and devour them; and as their smiles disappeared the earth
grew sad and cold, and the terrible Fimbulwinter began. Then snow fell
from the four points of the compass at once, the biting winds swept
down from the north, and all the earth was covered with a thick layer
of ice.

 “Grim Fimbul raged, and o’er the world
  Tempestuous winds and snowstorms hurled;
  The roaring ocean icebergs ground,
  And flung its frozen foam around,
  E’en to the top of mountain height;
      No warming air
      Nor radiance fair
  Of gentle Summer’s soft’ning light,
  Tempered this dreadful glacial night.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

This severe winter lasted during three whole seasons without a break,
and was followed by three others, equally severe, during which all
cheer departed from the earth, where the crimes of men increased with
fearful rapidity, and where, in the general struggle for life, the last
feelings of humanity and compassion disappeared.

[Sidenote: The wolves let loose.]

In the dim recesses of the Ironwood the giantess Iarnsaxa or Angur-boda
diligently fed the wolves Hati, Sköll, and Managarm, the progeny of
Fenris, with the marrow of murderers’ and adulterers’ bones; and such
was the prevalence of these vile crimes, that the almost insatiable
monsters were never stinted in food, and daily gained more strength to
pursue Sol and Mani, whom they finally overtook and devoured, deluging
the earth with the blood from their dripping jaws.

 “In the east she was seated, that aged woman, in Jarnrid,
  And there she nourished the posterity of Fenrir;
  He will be the most formidable of all, he
  Who, under the form of a monster, will swallow up the moon.”

              VOLUSPA (Pfeiffer’s tr.).

As this terrible calamity occurred the whole earth trembled and shook,
the stars, affrighted, fell from their places, and Loki, Fenris, and
Garm, renewing their efforts, rent their chains asunder and rushed
forth to take their revenge. At the same moment the dragon Nidhug
gnawed through the root of the ash Yggdrasil, which quivered to its
topmost bough; the red cock Fialar, perched above Valhalla, loudly
crowed an alarm, which was immediately echoed by Gullin-kambi, the
rooster in Midgard, and by Hel’s dark-red bird in Nifl-heim.

                “The gold-combed cock
  The gods in Valhal loudly crow’d to arms;
  The blood-red cock as shrilly summons all
  On earth and down beneath it.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Heimdall gives the alarm.]

Heimdall, seeing these ominous portents and hearing the cocks’ shrill
cry, immediately put the Giallar-horn to his lips and blew the
long-expected blast, which was heard throughout the whole world. At the
first sound of this rallying call Æsir and Einheriar sprang from their
golden couches, armed themselves for the coming fray, sallied bravely
out of the great hall, and, mounting their impatient steeds, galloped
over the quivering rainbow bridge to the spacious field of Vigrid,
where, as Vafthrudnir had predicted so long before, the last battle was
to take place.

[Sidenote: The terrors of the sea.]

The terrible Midgard snake Iörmungandr, aroused by the general
commotion, writhed and twisted in the bottom of the sea, wriggled out
of the deep, lashed the waters with his tail, and, crawling upon land,
hastened to join the fray, in which he was to play a prominent part.

 “In giant wrath the Serpent tossed
  In ocean depths, till, free from chain,
  He rose upon the foaming main;
  Beneath the lashings of his tail,
  Seas, mountain high, swelled on the land;
  Then, darting mad the waves acrost,
  Pouring forth bloody froth like hail,
  Spurting with poisoned, venomed breath
  Foul deadly mists o’er all the Earth,
  Thro’ thundering surge, he sought the strand.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

One of the great waves, stirred up by Iörmungandr’s struggles, set
afloat the fatal ship Nagilfar, constructed entirely out of the nails
of the dead, many relatives having failed, in the course of time, to do
their duty and show the respect due to the deceased, whose nails should
have been pared ere they were laid at rest. As soon as this vessel was
afloat, Loki boarded it with the fiery host from Muspells-heim, and
steered it boldly over the stormy waters to the place of conflict.

This was not the only vessel bound for Vigrid, however, for out of a
thick fog bank towards the north came another ship, steered by Hrym, in
which were all the frost giants, armed to the teeth, and eager for a
conflict with the Æsir, whom they had always hated.

Through a crevice Hel, the party-colored goddess of death, crept out of
her underground home, closely followed by the Hel-hound Garm, all the
malefactors of her cheerless realm, and the dragon Nidhug, which flew
over the battlefield bearing corpses upon his wings.

Seeing these reinforcements to his party as soon as he landed, Loki
welcomed them with joy, and placing himself at their head led them on
to the fight.

Just then the skies were suddenly rent asunder, and through the fiery
breach rode Surtr with his flaming sword, followed by his sons; and as
they attempted to storm Asgard by riding over the bridge Bifröst, the
glorious arch sank with a crash beneath their horses’ tread.

 “Down thro’ the fields of air,
  With glittering armor fair,
  In battle order bright,
  They sped while seething flame
  From rapid hoofstrokes came.
  Leading his gleaming band, rode Surtur,
  ’Mid the red ranks of raging fire.”

              VALHALLA (J. C. Jones).

The gods now knew full well that their end was near, and that through
weakness and lack of foresight they were laboring under great
disadvantages; for Odin had but one eye, Tyr but one hand, and Frey
nothing but a stag’s horn wherewith to defend himself, instead of his
invincible sword. Nevertheless, the Æsir did not show any signs of
flinching or despair, but, like true Northern warriors, donned their
richest attire, and gaily rode to the battlefield, determined to
sell their lives as dearly as possible, and harboring no thought of
surrender.

[Sidenote: The great battle.]

While they were mustering their forces, Odin once more rode down to the
Urdar fountain, where, under the wilting Yggdrasil, the Norns sat, with
veiled faces, their torn web lying at their feet, obstinately refusing
to utter a single word. Once more the father of the gods whispered
a mysterious communication to Mimir, then he remounted Sleipnir and
went to join the waiting host. On Vigrid’s broad plain the combatants
were now all assembled; on one side the stern, calm faces of the Æsir,
Vanas, and Einheriar, on the other the flashing host of Surtr, the grim
frost giants, the pale army of Hel--Loki leading Garm, Fenris, and
Iörmungandr, the two latter belching forth fire and smoke and exhaling
clouds of noxious, deathly vapors, which filled all heaven and earth
with their poisonous breath.

                “The years roll on,
  The generations pass, the ages grow,
  And bring us nearer to the final day
  When from the south shall march the fiery band
  And cross the bridge of heaven, with Lok for guide,
  And Fenris at his heel with broken chain;
  While from the east the giant Rymer steers
  His ship, and the great serpent makes to land;
  And all are marshal’d in one flaming square
  Against the Gods, upon the plains of Heaven.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

At a given signal the opposing hosts close in battle, fighting, as
did our ancestors of old, hand to hand and face to face. Rushing
impetuously onward, Odin and the Fenris wolf came into contact, while
Thor attacked the Midgard snake, and Tyr the dog Garm. Frey closed in
with Surtr, Heimdall with Loki, whom he had defeated once before, and
the remainder of the gods and all the Einheriar selected foes worthy of
their courage and performed unheard-of deeds of valor. But, in spite of
their constant practice and glittering arms, Valhalla’s host was doomed
to defeat, and Odin, after struggling fiercely with the Fenris wolf,
saw it suddenly assume colossal proportions, and open its jaws so wide
that they embraced all the space between heaven and earth. Then the
monster rushed furiously upon the father of the gods and swallowed him
whole.

 “Fenrir shall with impious tooth
  Slay the sire of rolling years:
  Vithar shall avenge his fall,
  And, struggling with the shaggy wolf,
  Shall cleave his cold and gory jaws.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

None of the gods could lend Allfather a helping hand at that critical
moment, for Frey succumbed beneath Surtr’s flashing sword, Heimdall and
Loki fell mutually slain, Tyr and Garm dealt and received from each
other a mortal wound, and Thor, after an indescribable encounter with
the Midgard snake, slew him by a blow from Miölnir, staggered back nine
paces, fell, and was drowned in the flood of venom which poured from
the dying monster’s jaws.

 “Odin’s son goes
  With the monster to fight;
  Midgard’s Veor in his rage
  Will slay the worm;
  Nine feet will go
  Fiörgyn’s son,
  Bowed by the serpent
  Who feared no foe.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

Vidar, seeing that his beloved father had succumbed, now came rushing
from the other end of the plain to avenge his death, and planting his
large shoe upon Fenris’s lower jaw, he seized the monster’s upper jaw
and with one terrible wrench tore him asunder.

[Sidenote: The devouring fire.]

The other gods who took part in the fray and all the Einheriar having
now perished, Surtr suddenly flung his fiery brands all over heaven,
earth, and the nine kingdoms of Hel. The raging flames rose higher and
higher, curled round the stalwart stem of the world ash Yggdrasil,
consumed the golden palaces of the gods, destroyed the vegetation upon
earth, and made all the waters seethe and boil.

 “Fire’s breath assails
  The all-nourishing tree,
  Towering fire plays
  Against heaven itself.”

              SÆMUND’S EDDA (Thorpe’s tr.).

This fire raged most fiercely until everything was consumed, when the
earth, blackened and scarred, slowly sank down beneath the boiling
waves of the sea. Ragnarok had indeed come; the world tragedy was
over, the divine actors were slain, and chaos seemed to have returned
to resume all its former sway. But as in a play, after the actors are
all slain and the curtain has fallen, the audience still expects the
principal favorites to appear and make a bow, so the ancient Northern
races fancied that, all evil having perished in Surtr’s flames,
goodness would rise from the general ruin, to resume its sway over the
earth, and some of the gods would return to dwell in heaven forever.

                            “All evil
  Dies there an endless death, while goodness riseth
  From that great world-fire, purified at last,
  To a life far higher, better, nobler than the past.”

              VIKING TALES OF THE NORTH (R. B. Anderson).

[Sidenote: Regeneration.]

As our ancestors believed fully in regeneration, they declared that
after a certain space of time the earth, purged by fire and purified by
its immersion in the sea, would rise again in all its pristine beauty
and be illumined by the sun, whose chariot was driven by a daughter of
Sol’s, born before the wolf had devoured her mother. The new orb of
day was not imperfect, as the first sun had been, for its rays were
no longer so ardent that a shield had to be placed between it and the
earth, which soon grew green beneath its beneficent rays, and brought
forth flowers and fruit in abundance. Two human beings, a woman, Lif,
and a man, Lifthrasir, now emerged from the depths of Hodmimir’s
(Mimir’s) forest. They had taken refuge there when Surtr set fire to
the world, and had sunk into peaceful slumbers, unmindful of the
destruction around them, and remained, feeding upon the morning dew,
until it was safe for them to wander out once more and take possession
of the regenerated earth, which their descendants were to people and
over which they were to have full sway.

          “We shall see emerge
  From the bright Ocean at our feet an earth
  More fresh, more verdant than the last, with fruits
  Self-springing, and a seed of man preserved,
  Who then shall live in peace, as now in war.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

All the gods who represented the developing forces of Nature were
slain on the fatal field of Vigrid, but the imperishable forces of
Nature, typified by Vali and Vidar, returned to the field of Ida, where
they were met by Modi and Magni, Thor’s sons, the personifications of
strength and energy, who saved their father’s sacred hammer from the
general destruction, and carried it thither with them.

 “Vithar’s then and Vali’s force
  Heirs the empty realm of gods;
  Mothi’s thew and Magni’s might
  Sways the massy mallet’s weight,
  Won from Thor, when Thor must fall.”

              VAFTHRUDNI’S-MAL (W. Taylor’s tr.).

Here they were joined by Hoenir, no longer an exile among the Vanas,
who, as developing forces, had also vanished forever; and out of the
dark underworld where he had languished so long rose the radiant
Balder, accompanied by his brother Hodur, with whom he was reconciled,
and who was now ready to live with him in perfect amity and peace.
Gently and pensively these gods talked of the past, recalled the
memory of their former companions, and, searching in the long grass on
Idavold, found again the golden disks with which the Æsir had been wont
to play.

 “We shall tread once more the well-known plain
  Of Ida, and among the grass shall find
  The golden dice with which we play’d of yore;
  And that will bring to mind the former life
  And pastime of the Gods, the wise discourse
  Of Odin, the delights of other days.”

              BALDER DEAD (Matthew Arnold).

Then, looking towards the place where their lordly dwellings once
stood, the assembled gods became aware of the fact that Gimli, the
highest heavenly abode, had not been consumed, but rose glittering
before them, its golden roof outshining the sun; and when they hastened
thither they discovered, with unmixed joy, that it had become the place
of refuge of all the virtuous.

 “In Gimli the lofty
  There shall the hosts
  Of the virtuous dwell,
  And through all ages
  Taste of deep gladness.”

              LITERATURE AND ROMANCE OF NORTHERN EUROPE (Howitt).

[Sidenote: One too mighty to name.]

As the Norsemen who settled in Iceland, and through whom the most
complete exposition of the Odinic faith has come down to us in the
Eddas and Sagas, were not definitely converted until the eleventh
century,--although they had come in contact with Christians during
their viking raids, nearly six centuries before,--it is very probable
that the Northern scalds gleaned some idea of the Christian doctrines,
and that this knowledge influenced them to a certain extent, and
colored their descriptions of the end of the world and the regeneration
of the earth. It was perhaps this vague knowledge, also, which induced
them to add to the Edda a verse, which is generally supposed to have
been an interpolation, proclaiming that another God, too mighty to
name, would rule over Gimli, judge all mankind, separate the bad from
the good, banish the former to the horrors of Nastrond, and invite the
latter to taste of endless bliss in the halls of Gimli the fair.

 “Then comes another,
  Yet more mighty.
  But Him dare I not
  Venture to name.
  Few farther may look
  Than to where Odin
  To meet the wolf goes.”

              LITERATURE AND ROMANCE OF NORTHERN EUROPE (Howitt).

There were two other heavenly mansions, however, one reserved for the
dwarfs and the other for the giants; for as these creatures had no free
will, and blindly executed the decrees of fate, they were not held
responsible for any harm they had done, and were not punished.

The dwarfs, ruled by Sindri, were said to occupy a hall in the Nida
mountains, where they drank the sparkling mead, while the giants took
their pleasure in the hall Brimer, situated in the region Okolnur (not
cool), for the power of cold was entirely annihilated, and there was no
more ice.

Various mythologists have, of course, attempted to explain these myths,
and some, as we have already stated, see in the story of Ragnarok the
influence of Christian teachings and esteem it only a barbaric version
of the end of the world and the coming judgment day, when a new heaven
and earth shall arise, and all the good shall enjoy eternal bliss.




CHAPTER XXVIII.

GREEK AND NORTHERN MYTHOLOGIES--A COMPARISON.


[Sidenote: Comparative mythology.]

During the past fifty years the learned men of many nations have
investigated philology and comparative mythology so thoroughly that
they have ascertained beyond the possibility of doubt “that English,
together with all the Teutonic dialects of the Continent, belongs to
that large family of speech which comprises, besides the Teutonic,
Latin, Greek, Slavonic, and Celtic, the Oriental languages of India and
Persia.” “It has also been proved that the various tribes who started
from the central home to discover Europe in the north, and India in
the south, carried away with them, not only a common language, but
a common faith and a common mythology. These are facts which may be
ignored but cannot be disputed, and the two sciences of comparative
grammar and comparative mythology, though but of recent origin, rest
on a foundation as sound and safe as that of any of the inductive
sciences.” “For more than a thousand years the Scandinavian inhabitants
of Norway have been separated in language from their Teutonic brethren
on the Continent, and yet both have not only preserved the same stock
of popular stories, but they tell them, in several instances, in almost
the same words.”

This resemblance, so strong in the early literature of nations
inhabiting countries which present much the same physical aspect and
have nearly the same climate, is not so marked when we compare the
Northern myths with those of the genial South. Still, notwithstanding
the contrast between the boreal and south temperate zones, where
these myths gradually ripened and attained their full growth, there is
sufficient analogy between the two mythologies to show that the seeds
from whence both sprang were originally the same.

In the foregoing chapters the Northern system of mythology has been
outlined as clearly as possible, and the physical significance of
the myths has been explained. Now we shall endeavor to set forth the
resemblance of Northern mythology to that of the other Aryan nations,
by comparing it with the Greek, which, however, it does not resemble as
closely as it does the Oriental.

It is, of course, impossible in a brief work of this character to do
more than mention the main points of resemblance in the stories forming
the basis of these religions; but that will serve to demonstrate, even
to the most skeptical, that they must have been identical at a period
too remote to indicate now with any certainty.

[Sidenote: The beginning of things.]

The Northern nations, like the Greeks, imagined that the world rose out
of chaos; and while the latter described it as a vapory, formless mass,
the former, influenced by their immediate surroundings, depicted it as
a chaos of fire and ice--a combination which is only too comprehensible
to any one who has visited Iceland and seen the wild, peculiar contrast
between its volcanic soil, spouting geysers, and the great icebergs
which hedge it all around during the long, dark winter season.

From these opposing elements, fire and ice, were born the first
divinities, who, like the first gods of the Greeks, were gigantic in
stature and uncouth in appearance. Ymir, the huge ice giant, and his
descendants, are comparable to the Titans, who were also elemental
forces of Nature, personifications of subterranean fire; and both,
having held full sway for a time, were obliged to yield to greater
perfection. After a fierce struggle for supremacy, they all found
themselves defeated and banished to the respective remote regions of
Tartarus and Jötun-heim.

The triad, Odin, Vili, and Ve, of the Northern myth is the exact
counterpart of Jupiter, Neptune, and Pluto, who, superior to the Titan
forces, rule supreme over the world in their turn. In the Greek
mythology, the gods, who are also all related to one another, betake
themselves to Olympus, where they build golden palaces for their use;
and in the Northern mythology the divine conquerors repair to Asgard,
and there construct similar dwellings.

[Sidenote: Cosmogony.]

Northern cosmogony was not unlike the Greek, for the people imagined
that the earth, Mana-heim, was entirely surrounded by the sea, at the
bottom of which lay the huge Midgard snake, biting its own tail; and
it was perfectly natural that, viewing the storm-lashed waves which
beat against their shores, they should declare they were the result of
his convulsive writhing. The Greeks, who also fancied the earth was
round and compassed by a mighty river called Oceanus, described it as
flowing with “a steady, equable current,” for they generally gazed out
upon calm and sunlit seas. Nifl-heim, the Northern region of perpetual
cold and mist, had its exact counterpart in the land north of the
Hyperboreans, where feathers (snow) continually hovered in the air, and
where Hercules drove the Cerynean stag into a snowdrift ere he could
seize and bind it fast.

[Sidenote: The phenomena of the sky.]

Like the Greeks, the Northern races believed that the earth was created
first, and that the vaulted heavens were made afterwards to overshadow
it entirely. They also imagined that the sun and moon were daily driven
across the sky in chariots drawn by fiery steeds. Sol, the sun maiden,
therefore corresponded to Helios, Hyperion, Phœbus, or Apollo, while
Mani, the moon (owing to a peculiarity of Northern grammar, which makes
the sun feminine and the moon masculine), was the exact counterpart of
Phœbe, Diana, or Cynthia.

The Northern scalds, who thought that they descried the prancing forms
of white-maned steeds in the flying clouds, and the glitter of spears
in the flashing light of the aurora borealis, said that the Valkyrs,
or battle maidens, were galloping across the sky, while the Greeks saw
in the same natural phenomena the white flocks of Apollo guarded by
Phaethusa and Lampetia.

As the dew fell from the clouds, the Northern poets declared that it
dropped from the manes of the Valkyrs’ steeds, while the Greeks, who
generally observed that it sparkled longest in the thickets, identified
it with Daphne and Procris, whose names are derived from the Sanskrit
word “to sprinkle,” and who are slain by their lovers, Apollo and
Cephalus, personifications of the sun.

The earth was considered in the North as well as in the South as
a female divinity, the fostering mother of all things; and it was
owing to climatic difference only that the mythology of the North,
where people were daily obliged to conquer the right to live by a
hand-to-hand struggle with Nature, should represent her as hard and
frozen like Rinda, while the Greeks embodied her in the genial goddess
Ceres. The Greeks also believed that the cold winter winds swept down
from the North, and the Northern races added that they were produced by
the winnowing of the wings of the great eagle Hræ-svelgr.

The dwarfs, or dark elves, bred in Ymir’s flesh, were like Pluto’s
servants in that they never left their underground realm, where they,
too, sought the precious metals, which they molded into delicate
ornaments such as Vulcan bestowed upon the gods, and into weapons
which no one could either dint or mar. As for the light elves, who
lived aboveground and cared for plants, trees, and streams, they were
evidently the Northern substitutes for the nymphs, dryads, oreades, and
hamadryads, which peopled the woods, valleys, and fountains of ancient
Greece.

[Sidenote: Jupiter and Odin.]

Jupiter, like Odin, was the father of the gods, the god of victory,
and a personification of the universe. Hlidskialf, Allfather’s lofty
throne, was no less exalted than Olympus or Ida, whence the Thunderer
could observe all that was taking place; and Odin’s invincible spear
Gungnir was as terror-inspiring as the thunderbolts brandished by his
Greek prototype. The Northern deities feasted continually upon mead and
boar’s flesh, the drink and meat most suitable to the inhabitants of a
Northern climate, while the gods of Olympus preferred the nectar and
ambrosia which were their only sustenance.

Twelve Æsir sat in Odin’s council hall to deliberate over the wisest
measures for the government of the world and men, and an equal number
of gods assembled on the cloudy peak of Mount Olympus for a similar
purpose. The Golden Age in Greece was a period of idyllic happiness,
amid ever-flowering groves and under balmy skies, while the Northern
age of bliss was also a time when peace and innocence flourished on
earth, and when evil was as yet entirely unknown.

[Sidenote: Creation of man.]

Using the materials near at hand, the Greeks modeled their first images
out of clay; hence they naturally imagined that Prometheus had made man
out of that substance when called upon to fashion a creature inferior
to the gods only. As the Northern statues were all hewed out of wood,
the Northern races inferred, as a matter of course, that Odin, Vili,
and Ve (who here correspond to Prometheus, Epimetheus, and Minerva,
the three Greek creators of man) made the first human couple, Ask and
Embla, out of blocks of wood.

The goat Heidrun, which supplied the heavenly mead, is like Amalthea,
Jupiter’s first nurse, and the busy, telltale Ratatosk is equivalent to
the snow-white crow in the story of Coronis, which was turned black in
punishment for its tattling. Jupiter’s eagle has its counterpart in the
ravens Hugin and Munin, or in the wolves Geri and Freki, which are ever
crouching at Odin’s feet.

[Sidenote: Norns and Fates.]

The close resemblance between the Northern Orlog and the Greek Destiny,
goddesses whose decrees the gods themselves and were obliged to
respect, and the equally powerful Norns and Mœræ, is too obvious to
need pointing out, while the Vanas are counterparts of Neptune and
the other ocean divinities. The great quarrel between the Vanas and
the Æsir is merely another version of the dispute between Jupiter and
Neptune for the supremacy of the world. Just as Jupiter forces his
brother to yield to his authority, so the Æsir remain masters of all,
but do not refuse to continue to share their power with their conquered
foes, who thus become their allies and friends.

Like Jupiter, Odin is always described as majestic and middle-aged,
and both gods are regarded as the divine progenitors of royal races,
for while the Heraclidæ claimed Jupiter as their father, the Inglings,
Skioldings, etc., said Odin was the founder of their families. The
most solemn oaths were sworn by Odin’s spear as well as by Jupiter’s
footstool, and both gods rejoice in a multitude of names, all
descriptive of the various phases of their nature and worship.

Odin, like Jupiter, frequently visited the earth in disguise, to judge
of the hospitable intentions of mankind, as in the story of Geirrod
and Agnar, which resembles that of Philemon and Baucis. The aim was to
encourage hospitality, therefore, in both stories, those who showed
themselves humanely inclined are richly rewarded, and in the Northern
myth the lesson is enforced by the punishment inflicted upon Geirrod,
as the scalds believed in poetic justice and saw that it was carefully
meted out.

The contest of wit between Odin and Vafthrudnir has its parallel in the
musical rivalry of Apollo and Marsyas, or in the test of skill between
Minerva and Arachne. Odin further resembled Apollo in that he, too, was
god of eloquence and poetry, and could win all hearts to him by means
of his divine voice; he was like Mercury in that he taught mortals the
use of runes, while the Greek god introduced the alphabet.

[Sidenote: Myths of the seasons.]

The disappearance of Odin, the sun or summer, and the consequent
desolation of Frigga, the earth, is merely a different version of the
myths of Proserpine and Adonis.

When Proserpine and Adonis have gone, the earth (Ceres or Venus)
bitterly mourns their absence, and refuses all consolation. It is only
when they return from their exile that she casts off her mourning
garments and gloom, and again decks herself in all her jewels. So
Frigga and Freya bewail the absence of their husbands Odin and Odur,
and remain hard and cold until their return. Odin’s wife Saga, the
goddess of history, who lingered by Sokvabek, “the stream of time and
events,” taking note of all she saw, is like Clio, the muse of history,
whom Apollo sought by the inspiring fount of Helicon.

Just as, according to Euhemerus, there was an historical Zeus, buried
in Crete, where his grave can still be seen, so there was an historical
Odin, whose mound rises near Upsala, where the greatest Northern temple
once stood, and where there was a mighty oak which rivaled the famous
tree of Dodona.

[Sidenote: Frigga and Juno.]

Frigga, like Juno, was a personification of the atmosphere, the
patroness of marriage, of connubial and motherly love, and the goddess
of childbirth. She, too, is represented as a beautiful, stately woman,
rejoicing in her adornments; and her special attendant, Gna, rivals
Iris in the rapidity with which she executes her mistress’s behests.
Juno has full control over the clouds, which she can brush away with
a motion of her hand, and Frigga is supposed to weave them out of the
thread she has spun on her jeweled spinning wheel.

In Greek mythology we find many examples of the way in which Juno seeks
to outwit Jupiter. Similar tales are not lacking in the Northern myths.
Juno obtains possession of Io, in spite of her husband’s reluctance to
part with her, and Frigga artfully secures the victory for the Winilers
in the Langobardian Saga. Odin’s wrath at Frigga’s theft of the gold
from his statue is equivalent to Jupiter’s marital displeasure at
Juno’s jealousy and interference during the war of Troy. In the story
of Gefjon, and the clever way in which she procured land from Gylfi to
form her kingdom of Seeland, we have a reproduction of the story of
Dido, who obtained by stratagem the land upon which she founded her
city of Carthage. In both accounts oxen come into play, for while in
the Northern myth these sturdy beasts draw the piece of land far out to
sea, in the other an ox hide, cut into strips, serves to inclose the
queen’s grant.

[Sidenote: Musical myths.]

The Pied Piper of Hamelin, who could attract all living creatures
by his music, is like Orpheus or Amphion, whose lyres had the same
power; and Odin, as leader of the dead, is the counterpart of Mercury
Psychopompus, both being personifications of the wind, on whose wings
disembodied souls were thought to be wafted away from this mortal
sphere.

The trusty Eckhardt, who would fain save Tannhäuser and prevent his
returning to expose himself to the enchantments of the sorceress in
the Hörselberg, is like the Greek Mentor, who not only accompanied
Telemachus, but who gave him good advice and wise instructions, and
would like to have rescued Ulysses from the hands of Calypso.

[Sidenote: Thor and the Greek gods.]

Thor, the Northern thunder-god, also has many points of resemblance
with Jupiter. He bears the hammer Miölnir, the Northern emblem of the
deadly thunderbolt, and, like Jupiter, uses it freely when warring
against the giants. In his rapid growth Thor resembles Mercury, for
while the former playfully tosses several loads of ox hides about a
few hours after his birth, the latter steals Apollo’s oxen before he
is one day old. In physical strength Thor resembles Hercules, who also
gave early proofs of uncommon vigor by strangling the serpents sent
to slay him in his cradle, and who delighted, later on, in attacking
and conquering giants and monsters. Hercules became a woman and took
to spinning to please Omphale, the Lydian queen, and Thor assumed a
woman’s apparel to visit Thrym and recover his hammer, which had been
buried nine rasts underground. The hammer, his principal attribute,
was used for many sacred purposes. It consecrated the funeral pyre
and the marriage rite, and boundary stakes driven in by a hammer were
considered as sacred among Northern nations as the Hermæ or statues of
Mercury, whose removal was punished by death.

Thor’s wife, Sif, with her luxuriant golden hair, is, as we have
already stated, an emblem of the earth, and her hair of its rich
vegetation. Loki’s theft of these tresses is equivalent to Pluto’s rape
of Proserpine. To recover the golden locks, Loki must visit the dwarfs
(Pluto’s servants), crouching in the low passages of the underground
world; so Mercury must seek Proserpine in Hades.

The gadfly which hinders Jupiter from recovering possession of Io,
after Mercury has slain Argus, reappears in the Northern myth to sting
Brock and prevent the manufacture of the magic ring Draupnir, which is
merely a counterpart of Sif’s tresses, as it also represents the fruits
of the earth. It continues to torment the dwarf during the manufacture
of Frey’s golden-bristled boar, a prototype of Apollo’s golden sun
chariot, and it prevents the perfect formation of the handle of Thor’s
hammer.

The magic ship Skidbladnir, also made by the dwarfs, is like the
swift-sailing Argo, which was a personification of the clouds sailing
overhead; and just as the former was said to be large enough to
accommodate all the gods, so the latter bore all the Greek heroes off
to the distant land of Colchis.

The Germans, wishing to name the days of the week after their gods, as
the Romans had done, gave the name of Thor to Jove’s day, and thus made
it the present Thursday.

Thor’s struggle against Hrungnir is like the fight between Hercules and
Cacus or Antæus; while Groa is evidently Ceres, for she, too, mourns
for her absent child Orvandil (Proserpine), and breaks out into a song
of joy when she hears it will return.

Magni, Thor’s son, who when only three hours old exhibits his marvelous
strength by lifting Hrungnir’s leg off his recumbent father, also
reminds us of the infant Hercules; and Thor’s voracious appetite at
Thrym’s wedding feast has its parallel in Mercury’s first meal, which
consisted of two whole oxen.

Thor’s crossing the swollen tide of Veimer reminds us of Jason’s wading
across the torrent when on his way to visit the tyrant Pelias and
recover possession of his father’s throne.

The marvelous necklace worn by Frigga and Freya to enhance their
charms is like the cestus or girdle of Venus, which Juno borrowed to
subjugate her lord, and is, like Sif’s tresses and the ring Draupnir,
an emblem of luxuriant vegetation or a type of the stars which jewel
the firmament.

The Northern sword-god Tyr is, of course, the Roman war-god Mars, whom
he so closely resembles that his name was given to the day of the week
held sacred to Mars, which is even now known as Tuesday or Tiu’s day.
Like Mars, Tyr was noisy and courageous; he delighted in the din of
battle and warfare, and was quite fearless at all times. He alone
dared to brave the Fenris wolf; and the Southern proverb concerning
Scylla and Charybdis has its counterpart in the Northern adage, “to get
loose out of Læding and to dash out of Droma.” The Fenris wolf, also a
personification of subterranean fire, is bound, like his prototypes the
Titans, in Tartarus.

The similarity between the gentle, music-loving Bragi, with his harp
in hand, and Apollo or Orpheus is very great; so is the resemblance
between the magic draft Od-hroerir and the waters of Helicon, which
were also supposed to serve as inspiration to mortal as well as to
immortal poets. Odin dons eagle plumes to bear away this precious mead,
and Jupiter assumes a similar guise to secure his cupbearer Ganymede.

Idun, like Adonis and Proserpine, or still more like Eurydice, is also
a fair personification of spring. She is borne away by the cruel ice
giant Thiassi, who represents the boar which slew Adonis, the kidnapper
of Proserpine, or the poisonous serpent which bit Eurydice. Idun is
detained for a long, long time in Jötun-heim (Hades), where she forgets
all her merry, playful ways, and becomes mournful and pale. She cannot
return alone to Asgard, and it is only when Loki (now an emblem of the
south wind) comes to bear her away in the shape of a nut or a swallow
that she can effect her escape. She reminds us of Proserpine and Adonis
escorted back to earth by Mercury (god of the wind), or of Eurydice
lured out of Hades by the sweet sounds of Orpheus’s harp, which were
also symbolical of the soughing of the winds.

[Sidenote: Idun and Eurydice.]

The myth of Idun’s fall from Yggdrasil into the darkest depths of
Nifl-heim, while subject to the same explanation and comparison as
the above story, is still more closely related to the tale of Orpheus
and Eurydice, for the former, like Bragi, cannot exist without the
latter, whom he follows even into the dark realm of death; without
her his songs are entirely silenced. The wolfskin in which Idun is
enveloped is typical of the heavy snows in Northern regions, which are
considered a great blessing, as they preserve the tender roots from the
blighting influence of the extreme winter cold.

[Sidenote: Skadi and Diana.]

The Van Niörd, who is god of the sunny summer seas, has his counterpart
in Neptune and more especially in Nereus, the personification of the
calm and pleasant aspect of the mighty deep. Niörd’s wife, Skadi,
is the Northern huntress; she therefore resembles Diana. Like her,
she bears a quiver full of arrows, and a bow which she handles with
consummate skill. Her short gown permits the utmost freedom of motion,
also, and she, too, is generally accompanied by a hunting hound.

The myths of the transference of Thiassi’s eyes to the firmament, where
they glow like brilliant stars, remind us of many Greek star myths, and
especially of Argus’s eyes ever on the watch, of Orion and his jeweled
girdle, and of his dog Sirius, all changed into stars by the gods to
appease angry goddesses. Loki’s antics to win a smile from the irate
Skadi are considered akin to the quivering flashes of sheet lightning
which he personified in the North, while Steropes, the Cyclops,
typified it for the Greeks.

The Northern god of sunshine and summer showers, the genial Frey, has
many traits in common with Apollo, for, like him, he is beautiful and
young, rides the golden-bristled boar which was the Northern conception
of the sunbeams, or drives across the sky in a golden car, which
reminds us of Apollo’s glittering chariot.

Frey has some of the gentle Zephyrus’s characteristics besides, for
he, too, scatters flowers along his way. His horse Blodug-hofi is not
unlike Pegasus, Apollo’s favorite steed, for it can pass through fire
and water with equal ease and velocity.

Fro, like Odin and Jupiter, is also identified with a human king, and
his mound lies beside Odin’s near Upsala. His reign was so happy that
it was called the Golden Age, and he therefore reminds us of Saturn,
who, exiled to earth, ruled over the people of Italy, and granted them
similar prosperity.

Gerda, the beautiful maiden, is like Venus, and also like Atalanta;
she is hard to woo and hard to win, like the fleet-footed maiden, but,
like her, she yields at last and becomes a happy wife. The golden
apples with which Skirnir tries to bribe her remind us of the golden
fruit which Hippomenes cast in Atalanta’s way, and which made her lose
the race.

Freya, the goddess of youth, love, and beauty, like Venus, sprang
from the sea, for she is a daughter of the sea-god Niörd. Venus shows
that she is not entirely devoid of martial tastes by bestowing her
best affections upon Mars and Anchises, while Freya often assumes the
garb of a Valkyr, and rides rapidly down to earth to take her part in
mortal strife and bear away one half of the heroes slain to feast in
her halls. Like Venus, she delights in offerings of fruits and flowers,
lends a gracious ear to the petitions of lovers, and favors them as
much as she can. Freya also resembles Minerva, for, like her, she wears
a helmet and breastplate, and, like her, also, she is noted for her
beautiful blue eyes.

[Sidenote: Odur and Adonis.]

Odur, Freya’s husband, is like Adonis, and when he leaves her, she,
too, sheds countless tears, which, in her case, are turned to gold,
while Venus’s tears are changed into anemones, and those of the
Heliades, mourning for Phaeton, harden to amber, which resembles
gold in color and in consistency. Just as Venus rejoices at Adonis’s
return, and all Nature blooms in sympathy with her joy, so Freya
becomes lighthearted once more when she has found her husband lover
beneath the flowering myrtles of the South. Venus’s car is drawn by
fluttering doves, while Freya’s is swiftly carried along by cats, which
are emblems of sensual love, just as the doves were considered types
of tenderest love. Freya is so sensitive to beauty that she angrily
refuses to marry Thrym, and Venus scorns and finally deserts Vulcan,
whom she has been forced to marry much against her will.

The Greeks represented Justice as a blindfolded goddess, with scales
in one hand and a sword in the other, to indicate the impartiality and
the fixity of her decrees. The corresponding deity of the North was
Forseti, who patiently listened to both sides of a question ere he,
too, promulgated his impartial and irrevocable sentence.

Uller, the winter-god, resembles Apollo and Orion only in his love for
the chase, which he pursues with ardor under all circumstances. He is
the Northern bowman, and his skill is quite as unerring as theirs.

Heimdall, like Argus, was gifted with marvelous keenness of sight,
which enabled him to perceive even the growth of the grass. His
Giallar-horn, which could be heard throughout all the world,
proclaiming the gods’ passage to and fro over the quivering bridge
Bifröst, was like the trumpet of the goddess Renown. As he was related
to the water deities on his mother’s side, he could, like Proteus,
assume any form at will, and made good use of this power on one
occasion to frustrate Loki’s attempt to steal the necklace Brisinga-men.

Hermod, the quick or nimble, resembles Mercury not only in his
marvelous celerity of motion, but he, too, was the messenger of the
gods, and, like the Greek divinity, he flashed hither and thither,
aided not by winged cap and sandals, but by Odin’s steed Sleipnir,
whom he alone was allowed to bestride. Instead of the Caduceus, he
bore the wand Gambantein. He questioned the Norns and the magician
Rossthiof, through whom he learned that Vali would come to avenge his
brother Balder and to supplant his father Odin. Instances of similar
consultations are found in Greek mythology, where Jupiter would fain
have married Thetis, yet desisted when the Fates foretold that she
would be the mother of a son destined to surpass his father in glory
and renown.

The Northern god of silence, Vidar, has some resemblance to Hercules,
for while the latter has nothing but a club with which to defend
himself against the Nemean lion, whom he tears asunder, the former,
protected by one large shoe, rends the Fenris wolf at Ragnarok.

[Sidenote: Rinda and Danae.]

Odin’s courtship of Rinda reminds us of Jupiter’s wooing of Danae,
who is also a symbol of the earth; and while the shower of gold in
the Greek tale is intended to represent the fertilizing sunbeams, the
footbath in the Northern story typifies the spring thaw which sets in
when the sun has overcome the resistance of the frozen earth. Perseus,
the child of this union, has many points of resemblance with Vali, for
he, too, is an avenger, and slays his mother’s enemies just as surely
as Vali destroys Hodur, the murderer of Balder.

The Fates were supposed to preside over birth in Greece, and to
foretell a child’s future just as well as the Norns; and the story of
Meleager has its unmistakable parallel in that of Nornagesta. Althæa
preserves the half-consumed brand in a chest, Nornagesta conceals the
candle end in his harp; and while the Greek mother brings about her
son’s death by casting the brand into the fire, Nornagesta, compelled
to light his candle end at Olaf’s command, dies as it sputters and goes
out.

Hebe and the Valkyrs were the cupbearers of Olympus and Asgard. They
were all personifications of youth; and while Hebe married the great
hero and demigod Hercules when she retired from office, the Valkyrs
were relieved from further attendance when united to heroes like Helgi,
Hakon, Völund, or Sigurd.

The Cretan labyrinth has its counterpart in the Icelandic Völundarhaus,
and Völund and Dædalus both effect their escape from a maze by a
cleverly devised pair of wings, which enables them to fly in safety
over land and sea and escape from the tyranny of their respective
masters, Nidud and Minos. Völund resembles Vulcan, also, in that he is
a clever smith and makes use of his talents to work out his revenge.
Vulcan, lamed by a fall from Olympus, and neglected by Juno, whom he
had tried to befriend, sends her a golden throne, which is provided
with cunning springs to seize and hold her fast. Völund, hamstrung by
the suggestion of Nidud’s queen, secretly murders her sons, and out of
their eyes fashions marvelous jewels, which she unsuspectingly wears
upon her breast until he reveals their origin.

[Sidenote: Myths of the sea.]

Just as the Greeks fancied that the tempests were the effect of
Neptune’s wrath, so the Northern races attributed them either to the
writhings of Iörmungandr, the Midgard snake, or to the anger of Ægir,
who, crowned with seaweed like Neptune, often sent his children,
the wave maidens (the counterpart of the Nereides and Oceanides),
out to play in the tossing billows. Neptune had his dwelling in the
coral caves near the Island of Eubœa, while Ægir lived in a similar
palace near Cattegat. Here he was surrounded by the nixies, undines,
and mermaids, the counterpart of the Greek water nymphs, and by the
river-gods of the Rhine, Elbe, and Neckar, who remind us of Alpheus and
Peneus, the river-gods of the Greeks.

The frequency of shipwrecks on the Northern coasts made the people
describe Ran (the equivalent of the Greek sea-goddess Amphitrite) as
greedy and avaricious, and armed with a strong net, with which she drew
all things down into the deep. The Greek Sirens had their parallel in
the Northern Lorelei, who possessed the same gift of song, and also
lured mariners to their death; while Princess Ilse, who was turned into
a fountain, reminds us of the nymph Arethusa, who underwent a similar
transformation.

In the Northern conception of Nifl-heim we have an almost exact
counterpart of the Greek Hades. Mödgud, the guardian of the Giallar-bru
(the bridge of death), over which all the spirits of the dead must
pass, exacts a tribute of blood as rigorously as Charon demands an
obolus from every soul he ferries over Acheron, the river of death. The
fierce dog Garm, cowering in the Gnipa hole, and keeping guard at Hel’s
gate, is like the three-headed monster Cerberus; and the nine worlds
of Nifl-heim are not unlike the divisions of Hades, Nastrond being an
adequate substitute for Tartarus, where the wicked were punished with
equal severity.

The custom of burning dead heroes with their arms, and of slaying
victims, such as horses and dogs, upon their pyre, was much the same in
the North as in the South; and while Mors or Thanatos, the Greek Death,
was represented with a sharp scythe, Hel was depicted with a broom
or rake, which she used as ruthlessly, and with which she did as much
execution.

[Sidenote: Balder and Apollo.]

Balder, the radiant god of sunshine, reminds us not only of Apollo and
Orpheus, but of all the other heroes of sun myths. His wife Nanna is
like Flora, and still more like Proserpine, for she, too, goes down
into the underworld, where she tarries for a while. Balder’s golden
hall of Breidablik is like Apollo’s palace in the east; he, too,
delights in flowers; all things smile at his approach, and willingly
take an oath of allegiance to him. Just as Achilles is vulnerable only
in the heel, Balder can be slain only by the harmless mistletoe, and
his death is occasioned by Loki’s jealousy just as truly as Hercules
was slain by Dejanira’s. Balder’s funeral pyre on Ringhorn reminds
us of Hercules’s death on Mount Œta, the flames and reddish glow of
both fires serving to typify the setting sun. The Northern god of sun
and summer could only be released from Nifl-heim if all animate and
inanimate objects shed tears; so Proserpine could issue from Hades only
upon condition that she had partaken of no food. The trifling refusal
of Thok to shed a single tear is like the pomegranate seeds which
Proserpine ate, and the result is equally disastrous in both cases, as
it detains Balder and Proserpine underground, and the earth (Frigga or
Ceres) must continue to mourn their absence.

Through Loki evil entered into the Northern world; Prometheus’s gift
of fire brought the same curse down upon the Greeks. The punishment
inflicted by the gods upon both culprits is not unlike, for while
Loki is bound with adamantine chains underground, and tortured by
the continuous dropping of venom from the fangs of a snake fastened
above his head, Prometheus is bound to Caucasus by adamantine fetters
also, and a ravenous vulture continually preys upon his liver. Loki’s
punishment has another counterpart in that of Tityus, bound in Hades,
and in that of Enceladus, chained beneath Mount Ætna, where his
writhing produced earthquakes, and his imprecations were the sudden
eruptions of the volcano. Loki further resembles Neptune in that he,
too, assumed an equine form and was the parent of a wonderful steed,
for Sleipnir rivals Arion both in speed and endurance.

The Fimbulwinter has been compared to the long preliminary fight under
the walls of Troy, and Ragnarok, the grand closing drama of Northern
mythology, to the burning of that famous city. “Thor is Hector; the
Fenris wolf, Pyrrhus, son of Achilles, who slew Priam (Odin); and
Vidar, who survives in Ragnarok, is Æneas.” The destruction of Priam’s
palace is the type of the ruin of the gods’ golden halls; and the
devouring wolves Hati, Sköll, and Managarm, the fiends of darkness, are
prototypes of Paris and all the other demons of darkness, who bear away
or devour the sun maiden Helen.

[Sidenote: Ragnarok and the Deluge.]

According to another interpretation, however, Ragnarok and the
consequent submersion of the world is only a Northern version of the
Deluge. The survivors, Lif and Lifthrasir, are like Deucalion and
Pyrrha, who were destined to repeople the world; and just as the shrine
of Delphi alone resisted the destructive power of the great cataclysm,
so Gimli stood radiant to receive the surviving gods.

We have already seen how closely the Northern giants resembled the
Titans; now it only remains to mention that while the Greeks imagined
that Atlas was changed into a mountain, so the giants in Germany formed
the Riesengebirge, and that the avalanches were the burdens of snow
which they impatiently shook off in changing their cramped positions.
The apparition of one of the water giants, in the shape of a bull, in
order to court the queen of the Francs, has its parallel in the story
of Jupiter’s wooing of Europa, and Meroveus is evidently the exact
counterpart of Sarpedon. A faint resemblance can be traced between the
giant ship Mannigfual and the Argo, for while the one is supposed to
have cruised all round the Ægean and Euxine Seas, and to have made many
places memorable by the dangers it encountered there, so the Northern
vessel sailed about the North and Baltic Seas, and is mentioned in
connection with the Island of Bornholm and the cliffs of Dover.

While the Greeks imagined that the Nightmares were the evil dreams
which escaped from the cave of Somnus, the Northern race fancied they
were female dwarfs or trolls, who crept out of the dark recesses of the
earth to torment them. All magic weapons in the North were the work
of the dwarfs, the underground smiths, while those of the Greeks were
manufactured by Vulcan and the Cyclops, under Mount Ætna, or on the
Island of Lemnos.

In the Sigurd myth we find Odin one-eyed like the Cyclops, who are also
personifications of the sun. Sigurd is instructed by Gripir, the horse
trainer, who, like Chiron, the centaur, is not only able to teach a
young hero all he need know, and to give him good advice concerning his
future conduct, but is also possessor of the gift of prophecy.

The marvelous sword which becomes the property of Sigmund and of
Sigurd as soon as they prove themselves worthy to wield it reminds
us of the weapon which Ægeus concealed beneath the rock, and which
Theseus secured as soon as he had become a man. Sigurd, like Theseus,
Perseus, and Jason, seeks to avenge his father’s wrongs ere he sets
out in search of the golden hoard, the exact counterpart of the golden
fleece, which is also guarded by a dragon, and is very hard to secure.
Like all the Greek sun-gods and heroes, Sigurd has golden hair and
bright blue eyes. His struggle with Fafnir reminds us of Apollo’s fight
with Python, while the ring Andvaranaut can be likened to Venus’s
cestus, and the curse attached to its possessor is like the doom which
accompanied Helen and caused endless bloodshed wherever she went.

Sigurd could never have conquered Fafnir without the magic sword,
just as the Greeks could never have taken Troy without the arrows of
Philoctetes, which are also emblems of the all-conquering rays of the
sun. The recovery of the stolen treasure is like Menelaus’s recovery of
Helen, and it apparently brings as little happiness to Sigurd as his
recreant wife did to the Spartan king.

Brunhild resembles Minerva in martial tastes, in physical appearance,
and in knowledge; but when Sigurd deserts her in favor of Gudrun, she
becomes angry and resentful like Œnone, when Paris left her to woo
Helen. Brunhild’s anger continues to accompany Sigurd through life, and
she even seeks to compass his death, while Œnone, feeling she can cure
her wounded lover, refuses to do so and permits him to die. Œnone and
Brunhild are both overcome by the same remorseful feelings when their
lovers have breathed their last, and both insist upon sharing their
funeral pyres, and end their lives lying by the side of those whom they
had loved.

Containing, as it does, a whole series of sun myths, the Volsunga
Saga repeats itself in every phase; and just as Ariadne, forsaken
by the sun hero Theseus, finally marries Bacchus, so Gudrun, when
Sigurd has departed, marries Atli, the King of the Huns. He, too, ends
his life amid the flickering flames of his burning palace or ship.
Gunnar, like Orpheus or Amphion, plays such marvelous strains upon his
harp that even the serpents are lulled to sleep. According to some
interpretations, Atli is like Fafnir, and covets the possession of
the gold. Both are therefore probably personifications “of the winter
cloud which broods over and keeps from mortals the gold of the sun’s
light and heat, till in the spring the bright orb overcomes the powers
of darkness and tempests, and scatters his gold over the face of the
earth.”

Swanhild, Sigurd’s daughter, is another personification of the sun,
as is shown by her blue eyes and golden hair; and her death under the
hoofs of black steeds represents the blotting out of the sun by the
clouds of storm or of darkness.

Just as Castor and Pollux hasten off to rescue their sister Helen
when she has been borne away by Theseus, so Swanhild’s brothers, Erp,
Hamdir, and Sörli, hasten off to avenge her death.

Such are the main points of resemblance between the mythologies of
the North and South, and the analogy serves to prove that they were
originally formed from the same materials, and that the difference
consists principally in the local coloring unconsciously given by each
nation.




INDEX TO POETICAL QUOTATIONS.


  Aager and Else, Ballad of, 170.

  Anderson, Rasmus B. (translations from the Elder Edda in Norse
        Mythology, S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago), 13, 24, 27, 43, 53,
        78, 80, 81, 88, 110, 111, 118, 124, 139, 147, 149, 264, 266,
        270.

  Anster (translation from Goethe), 130.

  Arnold, Matthew, 12, 14, 15, 21, 23, 28, 29, 46, 47, 64, 68, 84, 107,
        126, 144, 160, 167, 183, 188, 189, 192, 193, 194, 196, 267, 271.


  Baldwin, James, Story of Siegfried (Charles Scribner’s Sons, New
        York), 172.

  Brace (translation of ballad), 212.

  Brand, 120.

  Browning, Robert, 33, 34.


  Coneybeare (translation from the Anglo-Saxon), 165.


  Du Chaillu, Paul, Viking Age (Charles Scribner’s Sons, New York),
        142, 143.


  Edda (Sæmund’s, or the Elder), 11, 12, 13, 15, 16, 17, 18, 21, 24,
        25, 27, 29, 37, 38, 39, 41, 42, 43, 45, 62, 65, 71, 75, 80, 81,
        85, 88, 91, 96, 97, 98, 102, 104, 105, 107, 108, 110, 111, 112,
        113, 114, 115, 116, 118, 122, 123, 124, 129, 131, 134, 137,
        138, 139, 141, 142, 143, 144, 146, 147, 149, 151, 154, 157,
        162, 163, 164, 168, 174, 175, 177, 183, 184, 185, 195, 198,
        200, 204, 205, 206, 207, 236, 242, 244, 246, 254, 262, 266,
        267, 269, 270, 271, 272.

  Edda, The Younger, 53, 77, 78, 79.


  Forman (translations), 37, 40, 57, 100.


  Goethe, 130.

  Gray, 184, 185, 186.

  Grotta-Savngr, 122, 123.


  Heine, 180, 216.

  Hemans, 30, 161.

  Henderson (translations), 11, 154, 162.

  Herbert (translations), 77, 79, 114, 115, 116, 138.

  Herrick, 121.

  Hewitt (translation), 162.

  Homer, 36.

  Howitt, 36, 65, 195, 222, 272, 273.


  Jones, Julia Clinton, Valhalla (Bosqui & Co., San Francisco), 11, 16,
        53, 62, 86, 89, 90, 91, 101, 102, 103, 152, 156, 166, 167, 168,
        171, 178, 182, 195, 203, 205, 208, 264, 266, 267.


  Keightley (translation), 179.

  Kingsley, Charles, 50, 127.


  L. E. R., 178.

  La Motte-Fouqué, 218.

  Longfellow, Saga of King Olaf, in Tales of a Wayside Inn (Houghton,
        Mifflin & Co., Boston), 45, 63, 82.


  Macdowall, Asgard and the Gods, 51.

  Martin (translation from Heine), 216.

  Mathisson, 179.

  Meredith, Owen, 56, 57, 145.

  Morris, William, 19, 24, 61, 113, 128, 156, 178, 226, 227, 228, 229,
        230, 231, 232, 234, 235, 237, 238, 239, 241, 242, 243, 245,
        246, 247, 248, 249, 250, 252, 255, 256, 258, 259, 260, 261.


  Naogeorgus, 119.


  Oehlenschläger, 36, 66, 67, 68, 138, 176.

  Oxford Carol, 119.


  Percy (translation from the Edda), 62.

  Pfeiffer (translation), 265.

  Pigott (translations from Oehlenschläger), 66, 67, 68, 138, 176.


  Scott, 32, 221.

  Selcher (translation), 180.

  Shakespeare, 85, 158, 223.

  Southey, 35.

  Spenser, 219.

  Stagnelius, 179.

  Stephens (translations from Fridthiof’s Saga in Viking Tales of the
        North, Rasmus B. Anderson, S. C. Griggs & Co., Chicago), 20,
        28, 44, 52, 72, 73, 98, 106, 113, 128, 135, 173, 195, 197, 265,
        270.


  Taylor (translations from the Sagas), 15, 17, 18, 27, 37, 38, 92,
        269, 271.

  Tegnér, Fridthiof’s Saga, 20, 28, 44, 52, 72, 73, 98, 106, 113, 128,
        135, 173, 195, 197, 265, 270.

  Thomson, 27, 168.

  Thorpe (translations from Sæmund’s Edda), 12, 16, 21, 25, 29, 31, 39,
        41, 42, 45, 71, 75, 85, 91, 96, 97, 98, 102, 104, 105, 107,
        108, 112, 113, 116, 129, 131, 134, 137, 138, 139, 141, 144,
        146, 151, 157, 163, 164, 168, 169, 174, 175, 177, 183, 184,
        185, 198, 200, 204, 205, 206, 207, 236, 242, 244, 246, 254,
        269, 270.


  Vail, 29.


  Wagner, 37, 40, 57, 100.

  Wägner, Asgard and the Gods, 51.

  Wordsworth, 30.




GLOSSARY AND INDEX.


  AAGER (ä´ger) and Else. Ballad of, 170.

  ABEL. Cain in Wild Hunt because of the murder of, 32.

  ABUNDANTIA (a-bun-dan´shyȧ). Same as Fulla, 51.

  ABUNDIA. Same as Fulla, 51.

  ACHERON (ak´e-ron). Giöll, the Northern, 288.

  ACHILLES (a-kil´ēz). Balder, the Northern, 289;
    father of Pyrrhus, 290.

  ADONIS (a-dō´nis). Odin, the Northern, 279;
    Idun lost like, 283;
    Odur, the Northern, 285.

  ÆGEAN (ē-jē´an). Argo’s cruise round the, 290.

  ÆGEUS (ē-jē´us). Sigmund’s sword compared to that of, 291.

  ÆGIR (ā´jir). Tempests caused by, 107;
    god of the sea, 171–181;
    banquet in halls of, 204;
    Neptune, the Greek, 288.

  ÆGIS (ē´jis). Fafnir’s Helmet of Dread so called, 240.

  ÆNEAS (ē-nē´as). Vidar, the Northern, 290.

  ÆSIR (ā´sir). Northern gods called, 13;
    twelve in number, 18;
    Asgard, home of, 21;
    dispute between Vanas and, 21;
    to be supplanted, 38;
    inhabitants of Asia Minor, 43, 93, 107;
    Gylfi visits the, 44;
    Hrungnir feasts with the, 73;
    Freya visited by the, 77;
    recovery of hammer pleases the, 79;
    Fenris bound by the, 91;
    Suttung slain by the, 97;
    Idun welcomed by the, 104;
    Niörd among the, 108;
    Ægir not ranked with the, 171;
    Ægir visits the, 174;
    reward promised to the, 189;
    heralds sent out by the, 194;
    Loki slanders the, 198, 205;
    battle between the giants and the, 210;
    beginning and end of the, 263;
    Giallar-horn summons the, 265;
    giants come to fight the, 266;
    courage and death of the, 267;
    golden disks of the, 271;
    Greek gods compared to the, 277;
    Greek equivalent of dispute between the Vanas and the, 278.

  ÆTNA (et´nȧ), MOUNT. Northern equivalent for earthquakes in, 289;
    dwarfs’ forge equivalent to Vulcan’s in, 291.

  AFI (ä´fē). Riger visits, 142.

  AFTERNOON. Division of day, 17.

  AGNAR. Son of Hrauding, fostered by Frigga, 39, 40;
    gives Odin a drink, 41;
    becomes king, 42;
    Greek equivalent, 279.

  AI (ä´ē). Riger visits, 141.

  AKU-THOR (ak´u-thor). The charioteer, 64.

  ALBERICH (al´bĕr-ikh). King of the dwarfs, 218.

  ALBION (al´bi-on). Conjectured origin of name, 221.

  ALF-BLOT. Sacrifices offered to elves, 223.

  ALF-HEIM (alf´hīm). Home of elves in, 18, 221;
    Frey, ruler of, 112;
    Frey’s return to, 114;
    Skirnir’s return to, 116;
    Völund goes to dwell in, 165.

  ALI. Same as Vali, 152.

  ALLFATHER. The uncreated is, 10;
    Yggdrasil created by, 19;
    Odin called, 23;
    questions Vafthrudnir, 38;
    wrath of, 48;
    Longbeards named by, 50;
    disposes of Hel, Midgard snake, and Fenris, 89;
    sends Hermod to Finland, 145;
    goes with Vidar, to consult Norns, 148;
    dooms Brunhild to marry, 248;
    is slain, 269.

  ALPHEUS (al-fē´us). Greek equivalent of Northern river-god, 288.

  ALPINE ROSE. Attendants of Holda crowned with the, 55.

  ALPS. Uller’s home on the, 132;
    supposed meaning of the name, 221.

  ALSVIDER (äl´svid-er). Steed of moon chariot, 14.

  ALSVIN (äl´svin). Steed of sun chariot, 14.

  ALTHEA (al-thē´ȧ). Like mother of Nornagesta, 287.

  ALVA. Cheru’s sword borne by Duke of, 88.

  ALVIS. A dwarf, changed to stone, 64, 65.

  ALVIT. A Valkyr, marries mortal, 163.

  AMALTHEA (am-al-thē´ȧ). Compared to Heidrun, 278.

  AMBROSIA. Northern gods eat boar’s flesh instead of, 277.

  AMERICA. Norsemen real discoverers of, 224.

  AMMA. Riger visits, 142.

  AMPHION (am-fī´on). Pied Piper like, 280; Gunnar like, 292.

  AMPHITRITE (am-fi-trī´tē). Greek equivalent for Ran, 288.

  AMSVARTNIR (am-svärt´nir). Lake where Fenris is bound, 91.

  ANCHISES (an-kī´sēz). Northern equivalent of, 285.

  ANDHRIMNIR (än-dhrim´nir). Cook in Valhalla, 27.

  ANDVARANAUT (änd-vä´ra-nout). Ring of Andvari, 243;
    Sigurd appropriates, 246;
    Brunhild betrothed with, 248;
    Sigurd deprives Brunhild of, 252;
    Gudrun shows, 253; Gudrun sends Gunnar, 257;
    Greek equivalent, 291.

  ANDVARI (änd´vä-rē). King of dwarfs, 218;
    Loki visits, 242;
    ring of, 243, 246, 248, 252, 257, 291.

  ANGANTYR (än-gän´tēr). Ottar and, 128, 129;
    Tyrfing, sword of, 219.

  ANGLO-SAXON. Heptarchy, 44;
    Uller called Vulder in, 132;
    Ægir called Eagor in, 173.

  ANGUR-BODA (än-gur-bō´dȧ). Mother of Hel, Fenris, and Iörmungandr,
        89, 166;
    mother of Gerda, 114;
    wife of Loki, 200;
    feeds wolves in Ironwood, 265.

  ANNAR. Husband of Nott, 15.

  ANTÆUS (an-tē´us). Greek equivalent for Hrungnir, 282.

  APOLLO (a-pol´ō). Greek equivalent for Sol, 276;
    personification of the sun, 277;
    his contest with Marsyas compared to Odin’s with Vafthrudnir, 279;
    marriage with Clio compared to Odin’s with Saga, 279;
    flocks stolen by Mercury, 281;
    chariot compared to Frey’s boar, 282;
    god of music, like Bragi, 283;
    Frey compared to, 284;
    Uller, a hunter like, 286;
    sun-god, like Balder, 289;
    sun myth, like that of Sigurd, 291.

  APPLES. Gna’s, 51, 226;
    Idun’s, 100, 102, 104;
    Skirnir gives Gerda golden, 115;
    emblem of fruitfulness, 117;
    Norns watch over the magic, 154;
    Idun only can pick magic, 155;
    Rerir receives a magic, 226;
    comparison between Atalanta’s and Gerda’s, 285.

  ARACHNE (a-rak´nē). Vafthrudnir, Northern equivalent, 279.

  ARCHANGEL ST. MICHAEL. Wields Cheru’s sword, 88.

  ARCTIC CIRCLE. Scenery in the, 9.

  ARETHUSA (ar-ē-thū´sȧ). Princess Ilse equivalent to, 288.

  ARGO. Like Skidbladnir, 282;
    like Mannigfual, 290.

  ARGUS. Story compared to that of Brock, 281;
    eyes compared to Thiassi’s, 284;
    eyes compared to Heimdall’s, 286.

  ARIADNE (ar-i-ad´nē). Compared to Gudrun, 292.

  ARION (a-rī´on). Compared to Sleipnir, 290.

  ARTHUR. In Wild Hunt, 31, 32.

  ARWAKR (ar´wak-r). Steed of sun chariot, 14.

  ARYANS (är´yanz). Origin of, 9;
    myths of, 275.

  ASA (ā´sȧ). Hoenir an, 22;
    Odin, the almighty, 118;
    Balder an, 182.

  ASA-BRIDGE. Heimdall, guardian of the, 143.

  ASABRU (ā´sȧ-brū). Bridge of gods, 20.

  ASEGEIR (ā´se-gīr). Frisian elders, 135.

  ASGARD (as´gärd). Home of gods, 18;
    one root of Yggdrasil in, 19;
    gods’ palaces in, 21;
    Niörd welcomed in, 22;
    Odin’s seat in, 23;
    heroes brought to, 26;
    Ifing separates Jötun-heim from, 38;
    Odin leaves, 42, 48;
    Odin returns to, 44;
    Gylfi visits, 44;
    Thor admitted into, 61;
    Bilskirnir in, 61;
    Brock visits, 68;
    Hrungnir boasts in, 73;
    unprotected state of, 76;
    Thor’s return to, 79;
    Loki’s return to, 80;
    Tyr, a god of, 84;
    Fenris brought to, 89;
    Odin brings inspiration to, 96;
    Idun and Bragi arrive in, 99;
    Idun to be lured out of, 101;
    Idun mourns for, 102, 103, 283;
    gods return without Idun to, 106;
    Frey, Freya, and Niörd in, 107;
    Niörd summoned to, 108;
    Thiassi slain in, 104, 108;
    Skadi’s honeymoon in, 109;
    Frey welcomed to, 112;
    Freya welcomed to, 124, 131;
    Uller rules in, 131;
    Balder leaves, 133;
    Forseti arrives in, 134;
    Heimdall arrives in, 137;
    Heimdall leaves, 141;
    Hermod returns to, 146;
    Vali comes to, 152;
    sin enters, 154;
    Ægir’s visit to, 174;
    Odin’s return to, 186;
    gods’ sad return to, 192;
    messengers’ return to, 195;
    Loki banished from, 200, 204;
    gods wish to fortify, 202;
    a Hrim-thurs threatens, 203;
    Loki forfeits, 206;
    fire giants storm, 267;
    Olympus, the Greek, 276;
    Valkyrs, cupbearers in, 287.

  ASGARDREIA (as-gard-rī´a). Wild Hunt called, 30.

  ASIA. Plateau of Iran in, 9;
    Æsir come from, 43.

  ASK (äsk). Ash tree from which gods made man, 19;
    compared to creation of Prometheus, 278.

  ASLAUG (a-sloug´). The fostering of, 249.

  ASYNJUR (a-sin´jo͞or). Northern goddesses called, 18.

  ATALANTA (at-ȧ-lan´tȧ). Her apples compared to Gerda’s, 285.

  ATLA (at´lȧ). One of the wave maidens, 137.

  ATLANTIC. Cruise of the Mannigfual in the, 214.

  ATLAS. Greek equivalent for Riesengebirge, 290.

  ATLI (at´lē). Gudrun wooed by, 257;
    treachery of, 258;
    Högni and Gunnar slain by, 259;
    Gudrun slays, 260;
    same as Attila, 262;
    Gudrun’s union with, 292.

  ATTILA (at´i-lȧ). King of the Huns, has Cheru’s sword, 87;
    same as Atli, 262.

  AUD (oud). Son of Nott, 15.

  AUDHUMLA (ou-dho͝om´lȧ). Cow nourishes Ymir, 11.

  AUGEIA (ou-gī´yȧ). Wave maiden, 137.

  AUGSBURG (awgz´berg). Tyr’s city, 84.

  AURGIAFA (our-gyä´fȧ). Wave maiden, 137.

  AUSTRI (ou´strē). Dwarf, supporter of heavenly vault at East, 14.

  AUSTRIA. Curious custom in, 121.


  BACCHUS (bak´kus). Atli compared to, 292.

  BALDER (bäl´der). Allfather questions Vafthrudnir about, 38;
    son of Frigga, 43;
    Skadi wishes to marry, 109;
    Uller akin to, 133;
    Forseti, son of, 134;
    Forseti’s connection with, 136;
    Vali, the avenger of, 152;
    god of sun and summer, 182–198;
    Loki, real murderer of, 204;
    absent at Ægir’s banquet, 205;
    compared to Sigurd, 261;
    Loki deprives Æsir of, 263;
    the return of, 271;
    his death avenged, 286;
    Hodur murders, 287;
    compared to Greek sun-gods, 289.

  BALMUNG (bäl´moong). Völund forges, 165;
    Odin drives into Branstock, 227;
    Sigmund secures, 228;
    Siggeir obtains, 229;
    Sinfiotli makes use of, 233, 234;
    Odin breaks, 237;
    Hiordis treasures shards of, 238;
    forged again, 243;
    Fafnir slain by, 245;
    Sigurd cuts off Brunhild’s armor with, 247;
    laid it between Sigurd and Brunhild, 252;
    Guttorm slain by, 255;
    it is put on funeral pyre, 256;
    emblem of sunbeam, 261;
    compared to sword of Ægeus, 291.

  BALTIC SEA. Cruise of Mannigfual in, 215, 290.

  BARBAROSSA (bär-bȧ-ros´sȧ), FREDERICK. Leader of Wild Hunt, 31.

  BAUCIS (baw´sis). Story of, compared with Geirrod and Agnar, 279.

  BAUGI (bou´gē). Odin serves, 95.

  BEAV. Same as Vali, 152.

  BELDEGG (bel´deg). King of West Saxony, 44.

  BELI (bel´ē). Death of, 117;
    son of Kari, 212.

  BEHMER (bā´mer). Forest in Bohemia, 31.

  BERGELMIR (ber-gel´mir). Escapes deluge, 12, 210;
    same as Farbauti, 199.

  BERSERKER (bēr´serk-er). Rage of, 29;
    wolf held by, 190.

  BERTHA (bēr´thȧ). Same as Frigga, 58;
    mother of Charlemagne, 58;
    patroness of spinning, 59.

  BESTLA (best´lȧ). Giantess, 12;
    Æsir’s mortal element from, 16.

  BETHLEHEM (beth´lë-ėm). Peace of Frodi when Christ was born in, 122.

  BEYGGVIR (bīg´vir). Servant of Frey, 117.

  BEYLA (bī´lȧ). Servant of Frey, 117.

  BIFRÖST (bī´frēst). Rainbow bridge, 20;
    Valkyrs ride over, 26, 160;
    description of, 137;
    Heimdall, warder of, 138;
    Odin rides over, 184;
    insufficiency of, 202;
    Helgi rides over, 236;
    downfall of, 267;
    Giallar-horn proclaims passage of gods over, 285.

  BIL. The waning moon, 16.

  BILLING. King of Ruthenes, 150;
    anxious to save Rinda, 152.

  BILSKIRNIR (bil´skēr-nir). Thor’s palace called, 61;
    thralls entertained in, 62.

  BINGEN (bing´en). Rat Tower near, 35.

  BISHOP HATTO. Story of, 35.

  BLACK DEATH. Pestilence, 170.

  BLACK FOREST. Giants in the, 215.

  BLOCKSBERG (bloks´berg). Norns on the, 159.

  BLODUG-HOFI (blō´dug-hō´fē). Frey’s steed called, 113;
    Gymir’s fire crossed by, 115;
    compared to Pegasus, 284.

  BLOODY EAGLE. Description of, 85;
    Sigurd cuts the, 244.

  BODEN (bō´den). The bowl of offering, 93.

  BODVILD (bod´vēld). Betrayed by Völund, 165.

  BOHEMIAN FOREST. Same as Behmer, 31.

  BOLTHORN (bol´thorn). Giant called, 12.

  BOLWERK (bol´wērk). Odin serves, 95.

  BÖR (bēr). Marries Bestla, 12;
    earth created by sons of, 13;
    divine element of gods in, 16.

  BORGHILD (bôrg´hild). Sigmund marries, 234;
    Sinfiotli poisoned by, 236;
    Sigmund repudiates, 237.

  BORNHOLM (bôrn´holm). The formation of, 215;
    Mannigfual cruise connected with, 290.

  BOUS (bō´us). Same as Vali, 152.

  BRAGA-FUL (brä´gȧ-ful). Toast in honor of Bragi, 99.

  BRAGA-MEN. Northern scalds, 99.

  BRAGA-WOMEN. Northern priestesses, 99.

  BRAGI (brä´gē). Heroes welcomed to Asgard by, 26;
    Gunlod, mother of, 43;
    god of music and eloquence, 93–99;
    birth of, 97;
    the absence of, 102;
    Idun mourns for, 103;
    Idun sought by, 105;
    remains with Idun in Nifl-heim, 106;
    heroes welcomed by Heimdall and, 141;
    Ægir delights in tales of, 174;
    compared to Greek divinities, 283.

  BRANSTOCK (bran´stok). Oak in Volsungs’ hall, 226;
    sword thrust in the, 227;
    Sigmund under the, 234.

  BRECHTA (brek´tȧ). Frigga, 58.

  BREIDABLIK (brī´dȧ-blik). Balder’s palace, 182;
    Balder’s corpse carried to, 189;
    compared to Apollo’s palace, 289.

  BRIMER (bri´mer). Hall of giants, 273.

  BRISINGA-MEN (bri-sing´ȧ-men). Necklace of Freya, 127;
    Loki attempts to steal, 140, 286;
    emblem of fruitfulness, 141;
    made by dwarfs, 218.

  BROCK. Jealousy of, 66;
    Loki’s wager with, 67;
    three treasures of, 68;
    wager won by, 69;
    story compared with that of Io, 282.

  BROCKEN (brŏk´en). Witches’ dance on the, 130;
    Norns on the, 159.

  BROWNIES. Same as dwarfs, 217;
    same as elves, 223.

  BRUNHILD (bro͞on´hild). A Valkyr, 165;
    Sigurd finds, 247;
    Sigurd wooes, 248;
    Sigurd marries, 249;
    Sigurd forgets, 250;
    Gunnar loves, 251;
    Gunnar wooes by proxy, 252;
    wrath and jealousy of, 253;
    Högni swears to avenge, 254;
    rejoices at death of Sigurd, 255;
    death of, 256;
    Atli, brother of, 257;
    compared to Greek divinities, 261, 291, 292.

  BRUNNAKER (bro͞on´na-ker). Idun’s grove in, 102.

  BURGUNDIAN (bēr-gun´di-an). Ildico, a princess, 87;
    Gunnar, a monarch, 262.

  BURI (bū´rē). Creation of, 11;
    giants’ war against, 12.

  BURI. Grove where Frey and Gerda meet, 116.

  BYZANTINE (bi-zan´tin). Teutonic race influenced by that faith, 224.


  CACUS (kā´kus). Hrungnir compared to, 282.

  CADUCEUS (ka-dū´she-us). Gambantein compared to, 286.

  CAIN’S HUNT. The Wild Hunt, 32.

  CALAIS (kal´is). Mannigfual passes, 214.

  CALYPSO (ka-lip´so). Compared to Holda, 281.

  CAMOMILE. Called “Balder’s brow,” 182.

  CAPITOLINE HILL. Vitellius slain on, 87.

  CARTHAGE. Compared to Seeland, 280.

  CASTOR. Compared to Erp, Sörli, and Hamdir, 292.

  CATTEGAT (kat´e-gat). Ægir dwells in, 171, 288.

  CAUCASUS (kaw´ka-sus). Loki’s punishment compared to Prometheus’s on
        the, 289.

  CELTIC (sel´tik). Origin of the language, 274.

  CEPHALUS (sef´a-lus). A personification of the sun, 277.

  CERBERUS (sēr´be-rus). Analogy of Garm and, 288.

  CERES (sē´rēz). Compared to Rinda, 277;
    compared to Frigga, 279;
    compared to Groa, 282;
    personification of earth, 289.

  CERYNEAN STAG (ser-i-nē´an). Story of, 276.

  CHANGELINGS. Recipe for riddance of, 31, 219.

  CHAOS. World rose from, 10;
    analogy between Greek and Northern conception of, 275.

  CHARIOT. Sun and moon, 14;
    night and day, 15;
    Irmin’s, 36;
    Holda’s, 57;
    Nerthus’s, 59;
    Thor’s, 64, 69, 78;
    Frey’s, 113;
    Freya’s, 128;
    comparison between chariots of Greek and Northern gods, 276.

  CHARLEMAGNE (shär´le-mān). Leader of Wild Hunt, 31, 32;
    Bertha, mother of, 58;
    Freya’s temple destroyed by, 128;
    sword of, 165.

  CHARLES V. Alva, general of, 88.

  CHARLES’S WAIN. Same as Great Bear, 36.

  CHARON (kā´ron). Compared to Mödgud, 288.

  CHARYBDIS (ka-rib´dis). Northern parallel to, 283.

  CHERU (kēr´ū). Same as Tyr, 86;
    sword of, 87, 88;
    Heimdall same as, 141.

  CHERUSKI (ke-ro͝os´kē). The worship of the, 86.

  CHIRON (kī´ron). Compared to Gripir, 291.

  CHRIST. Peace of Frodi at birth of, 122.

  CHRISTIANITY. Attempts to introduce, 58, 88, 130, 212.

  CHRISTIANS. Easter feast, 58;
    Norsemen in contact with, 272.

  CHRISTIANSOË. Formation of, 215.

  CHRISTMAS. Wild Hunt at, 31;
    Bertha’s visit at, 59;
    Yule now called, 121;
    trolls celebrate, 213.

  CLIO (klī´ō). Same as Saga, 279.

  COLCHIS (kol´kis). Argo sails to, 282.

  COLOGNE (ko-lōn´). Odin visits, 86.

  COLUMBUS. Norsemen discovered America before, 224.

  CORONIS (ko-rō´nís). Ratatosk compared to crow in story of, 278.

  CRETAN LABYRINTH. Compared to Völund’s house, 287.

  CRETE (krēt). Odin’s tomb at Upsala compared to Jupiter’s in, 280.

  CYCLOPS (sī´klops). Compared to Loki, 284;
    to Northern dwarfs, 291.

  CYNTHIA (sin´thi-ȧ). Mani compared to, 276.


  DÆDALUS (dē´dȧ-lus). Compared to Völund, 287.

  DAG. Son of Nott, 15;
    a treacherous Hunding, 235.

  DAIN (dā´in). Stag on Yggdrasil, 20.

  DANAE (dan´ā-ē). Compared to Rinda, 286.

  DANES. Sacrificing place of, 53;
    Frey, ruler of, 122;
    Mysinger slays, 123;
    Ragnar Lodbrog, king of the, 249.

  DANISH BALLAD. Aager and Else a, 170.

  DANUBE. Cheru´s sword buried on banks of, 87.

  DAPHNE (daf´ne). Northern equivalent, 277.

  DAY. Divisions of, 17;
    Vafthrudnir’s questions about, 37.

  DECEMBER. Uller’s month, 133.

  DEIANEIRA (dē-i-a-nī´rȧ). Loki’s jealousy compared to that of, 289.

  DELLINGER (del´ling-er). Third husband of Nott, 15.

  DELPHI (del´fī). Compared to Gimli, 290.

  DELUGE. Ymir´s blood causes, 12;
    Ragnarok, a version of, 290.

  DENMARK. Odin conquers, 43, 44;
    Frey in, 122;
    Freya in, 124;
    Konur, king of, 143;
    Norns visit, 157;
    horn in collection of, 214;
    Gudrun leaves, 257.

  DESTINY. Compared to Orlog, 278.

  DEUCALION (dū-kā´li-on) and Pyrrha compared to Lif and Lifthrasir,
        290.

  DIANA (di-a´nȧ). Mani corresponds to, 276;
    Skadi compared to, 284.

  DIDO (dī´dō). Compared to Gefjon, 280.

  DISES (dis´ez). Norns same as, 159.

  DODONA (dō-dō´nȧ). Compared to Upsala, 280.

  DOLMENS. Stone altars called, 85.

  DONAR (dō´när). Same as Thor, 61.

  DOVER. Mannigfual passes, 214, 290.

  DRAUPNIR (droup´nir). Odin’s ring called, 24;
    Sindri and Brock make, 67;
    Odin receives, 68;
    Skirnir offers Gerda, 115;
    laid on Balder’s pyre, 190;
    Balder sends Odin, 194;
    emblem of fertility, 196;
    dwarfs fashion, 218;
    Greek equivalent, 282.

  DROMA (drō´mȧ). Chain for Fenris, 90;
    proverb about, 283.

  DRUIDS (dro͞o´idz). Human sacrifices of, 85.

  DRUSUS (dro͞o´sus). Warned by a Vala, 158.

  DRYADS (drī´adz). Northern equivalent for, 277.

  DUKE OF ALVA. Cheru’s sword found by, 88.

  DUNEYR (dū´nīr). Stag on Yggdrasil, 20.

  DUNMOW (dun´mou). Flitch of bacon, 121.

  DURATHOR (dū´ra-thôr). Stag on Yggdrasil, 20.

  “DUSK OF THE GODS.” Wagner´s opera, 225.

  DVALIN (dvä´lin). Stag on Yggdrasil, 20;
    dwarf visited by Loki, 66.

  DWARFS. Black elves called, 18;
    Ægir does not rank with, 171;
    one burned with Balder, 191;
    occupations of, 217–221;
    home of the, 273;
    nightmares are, 291.


  EAGOR. Same as Ægir, 173.

  EAST SAXONY. Conquered by Odin, 44.

  EASTER. Same as Ostara, 57;
    stones, altars to Ostara, 58.

  EÁSTRE. Same as Ostara, 57.

  ECHO. Dwarf’s talk, 218.

  ECKHARDT (ek´hart). Tries to stop Tannhäuser, 56;
    compared to Mentor, 281.

  ECLIPSES. Northern belief concerning cause of, 16.

  EDDA. Collection of Northern myths, 10, 45, 225, 272;
    sword-runes in, 85;
    Frey’s wooing related in, 114;
    Heimdall’s visit to earth described in, 141;
    Sæmund, compiler of Elder, 224;
    heroic lays in, 225;
    Younger, 44.

  EGIA (ē´gyȧ). Wave maiden, 137.

  EGIL (ē´gil). Marries a Valkyr, 163;
    arrow of, 165;
    Thialfi’s father, 174.

  EGLIMI (eg´li-mē). Father of Hiordis, 237.

  EINHERIAR (īn-hā´ri-ar). Odin’s guests, 25;
    meat of, 27;
    daily battles of, 27;
    Valkyrs wait on, 162;
    Helgi, leader of, 236;
    Giallar-horn calls, 266;
    muster of, 268;
    all slain on Vigrid, 269.

  EINMYRIA (īn-mē´ri-ȧ). Daughter of Loki, 199.

  EIRA (ī´rȧ). Goddess of medicine, 53.

  EISA (ī´sȧ). Daughter of Loki, 199.

  EITEL (ī´tel). Son of Atli and Gudrun, 257.

  ELB. Water sprite, 179;
    god of the Elbe, 288.

  ELBE (el´be). Drusus stopped at, 159;
    river named after Elb, 179.

  ELBEGAST (el´be-gast). King of the dwarfs, 218.

  ELDE (el´de). Ægir’s servant, 174.

  ELDHRIMNIR (el-dhrim´nir). Kettle in Valhalla, 27.

  ELF. Water sprite, 179;
    elf lights, 222;
    elf locks, 223.

  ELF. Sigmund buried by, 238;
    Hiordis marries, 239;
    second marriage of, 256.

  ELIVAGAR (el-i-vag´ar). Streams of ice from Hvergelmir, 10, 12;
    Thor crosses, 76;
    rolling ice in, 168;
    Thor’s journey east of, 171.

  ELLI (el´lē). Thor wrestles with, 72, 73.

  ELSE (el´sa). Ballad of Aager and, 170.

  ELVES. Light elves, 18;
    occupation of the, 221–225;
    Ægir does not rank with the, 171.

  ELVIDNER (el-vid´ner). Hel’s hall, 168.

  EMBLA (em´blȧ). The elm or first woman, 19;
    wooden, 278.

  ENCELADUS (en-sel´a-dus). Compared to Loki, 289.

  ENGLAND. Wild Hunt in, 32;
    May-day in, 42;
    Yule in, 119;
    flitch of bacon in, 120, 121;
    miners in, 220;
    Albion same as, 221;
    fairies in, 221, 222;
    Oberon, fairy king in, 223.

  ENGLISH CHANNEL. Mannigfual in, 214.

  EPIMETHEUS (ep-i-mē´thūs). Compared to Northern creators, 278.

  ER. Same as Tyr, 86;
    Heimdall same as, 141.

  ERDA. Same as Jörd, 61.

  ERMENRICH (ēr´men-rēkh). Swanhild marries, 260;
    Gudrun’s sons attack, 261.

  ERNA. Jarl marries, 143.

  ERP. Son of Atli and Gudrun, 257;
    son of Jonakur and Gudrun, 260;
    slain by brothers, 261;
    to avenge Swanhild, 292.

  ESKIMO. Skadi’s dog, 111.

  EUBŒA (ū-bē´ȧ). Ægir’s palace resembles Neptune’s home in, 288.

  EUHEMERUS (ū-hem´er-us). Historical theory of, 280.

  EUROPA (ū-rō´pȧ). Northern equivalent for story of, 290.

  EUROPE. Æsir migrate into, 43;
    discovery of, 274.

  EURYDICE (ū-rid´i-sē). Compared to Idun, 283.

  EUXINE SEA (ūk´sin). Mannigfual’s cruise compared to Argo’s in, 290.

  EVENING. Part of day, 17.

  EXORCISM. Of spectral hound, 31;
    of changelings, 219, 220.


  FADIR (fä´dir). Heimdall visits, 143.

  “FAERIE QUEENE.” Girdle in, 218.

  FAFNIR (faf´nir). Son of Hreidmar, 240;
    gold seized by, 243;
    Sigurd goes to slay, 244, 245, 246;
    Gudrun eats heart of, 251;
    personification of cold and darkness, 262, 292;
    compared to Python, 291.

  FAIRY RINGS. Magic spell of, 221.

  FAIRYLAND. Alf-heim is, 112.

  FARBAUTI (far-bou´tē). Same as Bergelmir, 199.

  FAROE ISLANDS. Thor’s name in, 81.

  FATES. Yggdrasil sprinkled by Northern, 20;
    compared to Norns, 286, 287.

  FEBRUARY. Vali’s month is, 153.

  FENG. Same as Odin, 244.

  FENIA. Giantess slave of Frodi, 122.

  FENRIS (fen´ris). Birth and capture of, 89;
    story of, 89–92;
    shoe to defend Vidar against, 148;
    prediction concerning, 149;
    Hel related to, 166;
    birth of, 200;
    Loki, father of, 212;
    released from bonds, 265;
    Loki leads, 268;
    death of, 269;
    Tyr alone dare face, 283;
    compared to Nemean lion, 286;
    compared to Pyrrhus, 290.

  FENSALIR (fen´säl-ir). Frigga’s palace, 47;
    Frigga spinning in, 187.

  FIALAR (fyäl´ar).
    1. Kvasir slain by, 93.
    2. Red cock of Valhalla, 265.

  FIMBULWINTER (fim´bul-win-ter). Prediction of coming, 192;
    terror of people at approach of, 264;
    Greek equivalent, 290.

  FINITE NATURE. Of gods, 16.

  FINNS. Hermod visits the, 145.

  FIOLNIR (fyol´nir).
    1. Birth of, 117.
    2. Same as Odin, 244.

  FIORGYN (fyôr´gēn). Genealogy of, 43;
    Frigga, daughter of, 46.

  FLAX. Discovery of, 54–56.

  FLINT. Origin of, 75, 76.

  FLITCH. Of bacon, 120, 121.

  FLORA. Nanna compared to, 289.

  FOLKVANG (fōk´vang). Freya´s home, 77, 124;
    warriors and wives in, 125;
    Loki enters, 140.

  FORENOON. Part of day, 17.

  FORNJOTNR (fôrn-yōt´nr). Same as Ymir, 199;
    giants descended from, 212.

  FORSETI (fôr-set´e). God of justice, 134–137;
    Greek equivalent for, 286;
    the land of, 136.

  FRAANANGER (frā-nan´ger). Loki takes refuge in, 206.

  FRANCE. Golden age in, 58;
    Oberon, fairy king in, 223.

  FRANCONIA. Conquered by Odin, 44.

  FRANKISH. Kings’ descent, 212;
    queen marries giant, 290.

  FRANKLAND. Hindarfiall in, 246.

  FRANKS. Worship of Tyr among the, 85;
    martial games of the, 88.

  FRAU GODE (frou gō´dā). Same as Frigga, 59.

  FRAU HOLLE. Same as Frigga, 54.

  FRAU VENUS. Same as Holda, 56.

  FREDERICK BARBAROSSA. Wild Hunt led by, 31.

  FREKI (frek´ē). Odin´s wolf, 24, 278.

  FRENCH REVOLUTION. Wild Hunt announces, 32.

  FREY (frī). Comes to Asgard, 22, 107;
    present for, 66;
    Gullin-bursti and Skidbladnir for, 68;
    toast to, 111;
    god of summer, 112–124;
    Freya, sister of, 124;
    rides with Freya, 128;
    Freya marries, 129;
    sword of, 219;
    elves governed by, 221;
    deprived of power, 223;
    weapon, a stag’s horn, 267;
    fights Surtr, 268;
    death of, 269;
    boar of, 282;
    Greek equivalent, 284.

  FREYA (frī´ȧ). Comes to Asgard, 22, 107;
    Hrungnir wants, 74;
    Loki borrows falcon plumes of, 77, 103;
    anger of, 77;
    Thor borrows garments of, 78;
    Thor personates, 79;
    Freya, goddess of beauty, 124–130;
    Friday sacred to, 128;
    Loki steals necklace of, 140, 199;
    the earth is, 141;
    Valkyrs led by, 162;
    promised to giant, 202;
    gods fear to lose, 203;
    dwarfs make necklace for, 218;
    Greek equivalents, 279, 282, 285.

  FREYGERDA (frī-gēr´ȧ). Wife of Fridleef, 122.

  FRIDAY. Sacred to Freya, 128.

  FRIDLEEF (frid´leef). Same as Frey, 122.

  FRIGGA (frig´ȧ). Sits on Hlidskialf, 23;
    Odin disguises himself by advice of, 37;
    Agnar fostered by, 40;
    Odin outwitted by, 41, 49;
    wife of Vili and Ve, 42;
    Odin’s wife, 43;
    seven sons of, 44;
    goddess of earth, 44–60;
    goddess of atmosphere, 46;
    secrecy of, 46;
    worshiped with Odin, 54;
    Thor, son of, 61;
    Nerthus same as, 108;
    Freya same as, 124;
    Uller marries, 131;
    Balder and Hodur, sons of, 182;
    Balder’s depression noticed by, 183;
    all things swear to, 184;
    Loki wrests secret from, 187, 188;
    Hermod departs at request of, 189;
    the hope of, 192;
    emblem of earth, 196;
    grants Rerir’s wish, 226;
    Greek equivalents, 279, 280, 282, 289.

  FRISIANS (friz´ianz). Want new laws, 135;
    tradition of, 214.

  FRO. Same as Frey, 112, 120, 284.

  FRODI (frō´dē). Mill of, 122;
    death of, 123.

  FULLA (ful´ȧ). Attendant of Frigga, 48, 50, 57;
    Nanna sends ring to, 194.

  FUNFENG (fun´feng). Ægir’s servant, 174;
    Loki jealous of, 205.

  FYLGIE (fēl´gye). Guardian spirit, 159.


  GABRIEL’S HOUNDS. Wild Hunt in England, 30.

  GALAR (gäl´ar). Kvasir slain by, 93.

  GAMBANTEIN (gam´ban-tīn). Wand of Hermod, 145;
    like Caduceus, 286.

  GAMLA UPSALA (gam´lȧ up-sä´lȧ). Odin’s, Frey’s, and Thor’s mounds
        near, 118.

  GANGLER (gang´ler). Deludes Gylfi, 44.

  GANGRAD (gang´räd). Odin as, 37.

  GANYMEDE (gan´i-mēd). Northern equivalent for story of, 283.

  GARM. Dog of Hel, 167;
    Odin passes, 184;
    Hel followed by, 267;
    Loki leads, 268;
    death of, 269;
    compared to Cerberus, 288.

  GEFJON (gef´yon). Gylfi visited by, 52;
    compared to Dido, 280.

  GEFN. Same as Freya, 125.

  GEIR ODDS (gīr odz). Carving of, 44, 169.

  GEIRROD (gīr´rod).
    1. Story of, 39–41.
    2. Loki visits, 79;
       Thor visits, 80, 81, 148;
       Loki accompanies Thor to, 199;
       Greek equivalent, 279.

  GELGIA (gel´gyạ). End of Fenris’s fetter, 92.

  GERDA (gẽr´dȧ). Wooed by Frey, 114, 115, 116;
    Greek counterparts of, 285.

  GERI (gẽr´ē). Odin’s wolf, 24, 278.

  GERMAN. Cheru’s sword belongs to a, 86;
    Langobart, a long beard in, 50;
    Eckhardt the mentor, 56;
    belief in Lorelei, 180;
    topographical belief, 211;
    belief in fairies, 222;
    epic, Nibelungenlied, 225.

  GERMANY. Wild Hunt in, 32;
    Odin conquers, 43;
    Abundantia worshiped in, 51;
    worship of Frigga in, 54;
    Easter-stones in, 58;
    golden age in, 58;
    belief in White Lady in, 59;
    Thor, kettle vender in, 64;
    storms in, 69;
    Nerthus in, 108;
    Frey is Fro in, 112;
    Yule in, 119;
    Freya´s worship in, 124, 125;
    temple in Magdeburg in, 128;
    Freya now a witch in, 130;
    Uller in, 132;
    the Elbe in, 179;
    sandhills in, 214;
    sacrifices to elves in, 223.

  GERSEMI (gēr´se-mē). Freya’s daughter, 125.

  GERTRUDE (gēr´tro͞od). Replaces Freya in Germany, 130.

  GIALLAR (gyäl´lar). Bridge in Nifl-heim, 167;
    Odin rides over, 184;
    trembling of, 192;
    Greek equivalent, 288.

  GIALLAR-HORN. Heimdall’s trumpet, 21, 138;
    last blast of the, 265;
    Greek equivalent, 286.

  GIALP (gyälp). Incantation of, 80;
    Thor breaks the back of, 81;
    wave maiden called, 137.

  GIANTS. Birth of ice, 11;
    gods slay the, 12;
    Ægir does not belong to the, 171;
    Hyrrokin summoned by the, 190;
    general account of the, 210–217;
    Brimer, hall of, 273.

  GILLING (gil´ling). Giant slain by dwarfs, 93;
    death of wife of, 94.

  GIMLI (gim´lē). Not consumed in Ragnarok, 272;
    compared to Delphi, 290.

  GINNUNGA-GAP (ge-no͞on´gȧ-gap). Primeval abyss, 10;
    giants come to life in, 210.

  GIOLL (gyol). Rock to which Fenris is bound, 92.

  GIÖLL (gyēl). River boundary of Nifl-heim, 167;
    Hermod crosses, 192;
    like Acheron, 288.

  GIUKI (gi-´o͞oki). Niblung king, 250;
    Sigurd, blood brother of sons of, 251.

  GIUKINGS. Sons of Giuki, 251;
    Sigurd slain by, 256.

  GLADS-HEIM (glädz-hīm). Twelve seats in, 25;
    Tyr welcomed in, 84;
    Vali dwells in, 153;
    Odin returns to, 187.

  GLASIR (glä´sir). The golden grove of, 25.

  GLAUMVOR (gloum´vor). Second wife of Gunnar, 257.

  GLAUR (glour). Husband of Sol, 14.

  GLEIPNIR (glīp´nir). Manufacture of, 90, 91.

  GLITNIR (glit´nir). Forseti’s hall, 134.

  GLITTERING HEATH. Fafnir on the, 243.

  GLUT (glo͞ot). Loki’s first wife, 199.

  GNA (gnä). Messenger of Frigga, 51;
    carries apple to Rerir, 226;
    compared to Iris, 280.

  GNIPA (gnē´pȧ). Cave in Nifl-heim, 167;
    Garm in, 288.

  GNÎTAHEID (gnē´tȧ-hīd). Fafnir on, 243.

  GNOMES (nōmz). Same as dwarfs, 18.

  GOBLINS. Same as dwarfs, 217.

  GODE (gō´de). Same as Frigga, 59.

  GODEY. Thor’s temple at, 82.

  GODI. Human sacrifices by, 85.

  GOLD. Freya’s tears are, 126;
    the flame of the sea, 172.

  GOLDEN AGE, 19;
    Norns arrive after, 154;
    Greek equivalent for Northern, 278;
    Frey’s reign the, 284.

  GONDEMAR (gon´de-mar). King of the dwarfs, 218.

  GOTHLAND. Thor’s temple in, 82;
    Sigmund leaves, 234;
    Ermenrich, king of, 260.

  GOTHS. Siggeir, king of the, 226;
    Sigmund and Sinfiotli, prisoners of the, 233.

  GRANE (grä´nē). Sigurd chooses, 240.

  GREAT BEAR. Odin’s Wain, 36.

  GREENLAND. First settlement, 224.

  GREIP (grīp). Thor breaks the back of, 81;
    a wave maiden called, 137.

  GRENDEL. Son of Hler, 213.

  GREYFELL (grā´fel). Same as Grane, 240;
    Sigurd loads hoard on, 246;
    Gunnar borrows, 251;
    Sigurd rides through flames on, 252;
    burned with Sigurd, 256.

  GRID. Wife of Odin, 43, 80, 147;
    gives Vidar shoe, 148;
    with Vidar and Odin, 149.

  GRIMHILD (grim´hild). Queen of the Niblungs, 250;
    wishes Gunnar to marry, 251, 252, 253;
    gives magic potion to Guttorm, 254;
    to Gudrun, 257.

  GRIMNIR. Odin as, 41.

  GRIOTTUNAGARD (gryot-tū´na-gärd). The dual in, 74.

  GRIPIR (grē´pir). Stud-keeper of Elf, 240;
    prophecies of, 244;
    compared to Chiron, 291.

  GROA (grō´ȧ). Incantations of, 76;
    compared to Ceres, 282.

  GROTTI. Magic mill, 122, 123.

  GRYPTO. Nun on, 212.

  GUDRUN (go͞o-dro͞on´).
    1. A Valkyr marries Helgi, 235;
       self-sacrifice of, 236.
    2. Gives magic potion to Sigurd, 250;
       marries Sigurd, 251;
       Sigurd gives ring to, 253;
       Sigurd offers to repudiate, 254;
       mourning of, 255;
       goes to Denmark, 256;
       wooed by Atli, 257;
       Niblungs helped by, 258;
       slays her children, 259;
       revenge of, 260;
       sends sons to avenge Swanhild, 261;
       same as Ildico, 262;
       Greek equivalent, 292.

  GULL-TOP (go͞ol-top). Heimdall’s steed, 139.

  GULLFAXI (go͞ol-fax´ē). Hrungnir’s steed, 73;
    Magni receives, 75.

  GULLIN-BURSTI (go͞ol´in-bērs-tē). Making of, 67;
    Frey receives, 68, 113;
    dwarfs manufacture, 218.

  GULLIN-KAMBI (go͞ol´in-käm-bē). Midgard rooster, 265.

  GULLIN-TANI (go͞ol´in-tä-nē). Same as Heimdall, 139.

  GUNDICARIUS (go͞on-di-cär´i-us). Same as Gunnar, 262.

  GUNGNIR (go͞ong´nir). Odin’s spear, 24;
    made of Yggdrasil wood, 37;
    runes on, 39;
    Dvalin makes point of, 66, 218;
    Odin receives, 68;
    Hermod throws, 144;
    Dag borrows, 235;
    Greek equivalent, 277.

  GUNLOD (go͞on´lod). Mother of Bragi, 43;
    guardian of inspiration, 94;
    Odin visits, 95, 96.

  GUNNAR (gun´när). Son of Giuki, 250;
    wooing of Brunhild by, 251;
    Brunhild marries, 253;
    repentance of, 255;
    Brunhild burned by order of, 256;
    Atli asks compensation for death of the sister of, 257;
    courage and oath of, 258;
    death of, 259;
    same as Gundicarius, 262;
    Greek equivalents, 292.

  GUTTORM (go͞ot´torm). Son of Giuki, 250;
    Sigurd slain by, 254;
    death of, 255.

  GYLFI (gēl´fē). Odin welcomed by, 43;
    delusion of, 44;
    Gefjon visits, 52;
    Greek equivalent, 280.

  GYMIR (gē´mir). Gerda, daughter of, 114;
    dwelling of, 115;
    Ægir same as, 173;
    son of Hler, 212.


  HADES (hā´dēz). Compared to Nifl-heim, 281, 289;
    Jötun-heim compared to, 283.

  HAGAL. Fosters Helgi, 235.

  HAGEDISES (hag´e-dis-ez). Norns called, 159.

  HAKON (hä´kon). Thora, daughter of, 256;
    marries a Valkyr, 287.

  HALLINSKIDE (häl´lin-skē-de). Heimdall, same as, 141.

  HAMADRYADS. Northern equivalents, 277.

  HAMDIR (ham´dir). Son of Gudrun, 260;
    death of, 261;
    Greek equivalent, 292.

  HAMELIN (ham´e-lin). Story of Pied Piper of, 33, 34;
    Greek equivalent, 280.

  HAMMER. To dedicate boundaries, homes, marriages, 64;
    effect of, 70;
    the theft of the, 76;
    sign of the, 99.

  HAMOND. Son of Sigmund, 234.

  HANS VON HACKELBERG. Leader of Wild Hunt, 31, 32.

  HAR. One of the triad seen by Gylfi, 44.

  HARALD HARFAGER (här´fag-er). Norseman driven away by, 224.

  HATI (hä´tē). Wolf pursuing orbs, 16;
    fed in Ironwood, 265;
    demon of darkness, 290.

  HATTO. Bishop of Mayence, 35.

  HÁVAMÁL (hav´a-mal). Code of laws and ethics, 45.

  HEBE (hē´bē). Compared to Valkyrs, 287.

  HECTOR. Northern equivalent, 290.

  HEIDRUN (hī´dro͞on). Goat supplying mead, 20;
    compared to Amalthea, 278.

  HEIM-DELLINGER. Same as Heimdall, 139.

  HEIMCHEN. Unborn children, 58.

  HEIMDALL (hīm´däl). Bifröst guarded by, 21;
    nine mothers of, 43;
    Thor advised by, 78;
    Idun sought by, 105;
    Brisinga-men saved by, 127;
    watch-warder of Asgard, 137–143;
    connected with Æsir, 147;
    watchfulness of, 202;
    Loki to be slain by, 208;
    horn blown by, 265;
    Loki fights, 268;
    death of, 269;
    Greek equivalents, 286.

  HEIME. Miming, the sword of, 165.

  “HEIMSKRINGLA” (hīmz´kring-lȧ). Northern chronicle, 117.

  HEL. Goddess of death, 32;
    birth and banishment of, 89, 200;
    realm of, 98;
    Idun’s sojourn with, 105, 106;
    Uller with, 133;
    Skuld as, 159;
    the home of, 166–170;
    Odin visits, 184;
    daughter of Loki, 212;
    Hermod goes to, 184;
    couches spread by, 185;
    Hermod visits, 189;
    challenged, 192;
    urged to release Balder, 193;
    Hermod leaves, 194;
    the bird of, 265;
    arrives on Vigrid, 267;
    army of, 268;
    realm burned, 269;
    Garm guards gate of, 288;
    rake of, 289.

  HEL-CAKE. Provided for Garm, 167.

  HEL-GATE. Hermod passes, 167, 193.

  HEL-SHOES. For feet of dead, 167.

  HEL-WAY. Hermod journeys along the, 192.

  HELA. Same as Hel, 166.

  HELEN. Northern equivalents, 290, 291, 292.

  HELFERICH (hel´fer-ēkh). Same as Elf, 238.

  HELFRAT (hel´frat). Same as Elf, 238.

  HELGI. Glorious career of, 234, 235;
    marriage of, 287.

  HELIADES (he-lī´a-dēz). Northern equivalent, 285.

  HELICON. Compared to Sokvabek, 279;
    to Od-hroerir, 283.

  HELIGOLAND (hel´i-go-länd). Naming of, 131.

  HELIOS (hē´li-os). Northern equivalent, 276.

  HELMET OF DREAD, 242, 243;
    Sigurd uses the, 246, 251, 256.

  HENGI-KIAPTR (heng´gē-kyäp’tr). Frodi’s mill called, 122.

  HENGIST (heng´gist). Descendant of Odin, 44.

  HENRY. Murder of, 32;
    Ilse seen by, 215.

  HERACLIDÆ (her-a-klī´dē). Northern equivalents, 279.

  HERCULES (hēr´cu-lēz). Northern equivalents, 276, 281, 282, 286, 287,
        289.

  HERLA. Mythical king of England, 32.

  HERLATHING. Wild Hunt called, 32.

  HERMÆ (hēr´mē). Comparison between Northern boundaries and, 281.

  HERMOD (hēr´mod). Heroes welcomed by, 26;
    Frigga mother of, 43;
    messenger of gods, 144, 146;
    journeys to Nifl-heim, 167, 189, 190–194;
    Greek equivalent, 286.

  HEROD. Leader of Wild Hunt, 32.

  HERU. Same as Tyr, 86;
    same as Heimdall, 141.

  HERVOR (hēr´vor). Daughter of Angantyr, 219.

  HIALLI (hyäl´lē). The trembling heart of, 259.

  HIGH SONG. Same as Hávamál, 45.

  HIMINBIORG (him´in-byērg). Heimdall’s palace, 138, 143.

  HIMINBRIOTER (him´in-bryō-ter). Thor slays, 175.

  HINDARFIALL (hin´dar-fyäl). Sigurd comes to, 246;
    Brunhild asleep on, 248;
    Brunhild’s story not ended on, 250.

  HINDFELL (hind´fel). Same as Hindarfiall, 248.

  HIORDIS (hyôr´dis). Sigmund marries, 237;
    and leaves sword to, 238;
    Elf marries, 239;
    Sigurd obtains sword from, 244;
    death of, 256.

  HIPPOMENES (hip-pom´e-nēz). Northern equivalent, 285.

  HIUKI (hū´kē). Companion of Mani, 16.

  HLADER (hlä´der). Thor’s temple at, 82.

  HLEIDRA (hlī´drȧ). Capital of Denmark, 53.

  HLER. Same as Ægir, 171, 173;
    brother of Loki, 199;
    son of Fornjotnr, 212.

  HLESEY. Ægir’s palace in, 171, 174.

  HLIDSKIALF (hlidz´kyȧlf). Odin’s seat, 23, 25, 79;
    Odin sees sons of Hrauding from, 40;
    Frigga sits on, 46;
    Odin sees Vandals from, 49;
    Frey mounts, 114.

  HLIN. Frigga’s attendant, 51.

  HLODYN (hlo´dēn). Same as Nerthus, 60.

  HLORA. Thor fostered by, 61.

  HLORRIDI (hlôr-rē´dē). Same as Thor, 61.

  HNIKAR (hnē´kar). Same as Odin, 244.

  HNOSS. Freya’s daughter, 125.

  HODMIMIR (hod-mē´mir). The forest of, 270.

  HODUR (hō´der). Personification of darkness, 133, 197;
    Vali to slay, 152, 186;
    twin brother of Balder, 182;
    Balder to be slain by, 185;
    Balder slain by, 188, 189;
    Vali slays, 195, 287;
    explanation of myth of, 196;
    Loki guides hand of, 204;
    return of, 271.

  HOENIR (hē´nir). Gives motion to man, 19;
    earth visited by, 101, 240;
    Loki joins, 102;
    hostage in Vana-heim, 107;
    peasant asks aid of, 201;
    survival of, 271.

  HOFVARPNIR (hof-värp´nir). Gna’s fleet steed, 51.

  HÖGNI (hēg´nē). Son of Giuki, 250;
    Sigurd’s death planned by, 254;
    warning given by, 257;
    captive, 258;
    the heart of, 259.

  HOLDA. Same as Frigga, 54;
    Uller, husband of, 132.

  HOLLAND. Frigga worshiped in, 59.

  HOLLE, FRAU. Same as Frigga, 54.

  HOLLER. Same as Uller, 132.

  HOLMGANG. Thor’s and Hrungnir’s, 74, 75.

  HOLY INNOCENTS. In Wild Hunt, 32.

  HONEY. Drips from Yggdrasil, 20.

  HORN. Same as Freya, 125.

  HORSA. Descendant of Odin, 44.

  HÖRSELBERG (hēr´sel-berg). Holda’s abode in the, 56, 281.

  HOSTAGES. Exchanged by Æsir and Vanas, 22.

  HRÆ-SVELGR (hrā-svelgr´). Giant eagle, 17;
    winds personified by, 277.

  HRAUDING (hroud´ing). Agnar and Geirrod, sons of, 39.

  HREIDMAR (hrīd´mar). Story of, 240–243.

  HRIM-FAXI. Steed of Night, 15.

  HRIM-THURS (hrēm-to͞ors). Ice giants at creation, 11;
    Skadi, a, 109;
    architect of Valhalla, a, 203.

  HROTHI (hrō´tē). Sword of Fafnir, 243.

  HRUNGNIR (hro͞ong´nir). Odin races with, 73;
    Thor’s duel with, 74, 75;
    Greek equivalents, 282.

  HRYM (hrēm). Vessel steered by, 266.

  HUBERT, SAINT. Uller merged into, 132.

  HUGI (hū´gi). Thialfi races with, 72.

  HUGIN (hū´gin). Odin’s raven, 24, 278;
    Od-hroerir discovered by, 94.

  HULDA (hul´dȧ). Same as Holda, 54.

  HULDRA (hul´drȧ). Same as Holda, 60.

  HULDRA FOLK. Same as dwarfs and elves, 60, 217, 223.

  HUNALAND. Gna flies over, 51, 234;
    Brunhild’s home in, 248.

  HUNDING. Helgi’s feud with, 235;
    descendants of, 237, 257, 260, 262.

  HUNGARY. Attila settles in, 87.

  HUNS. Invasion by the, 87;
    Sigi, king of the, 226;
    Land of the, 257, 258, 260, 262, 292.

  HUNTSMAN OF FONTAINEBLEAU. Leader of Wild Hunt, 32.

  HVERGELMIR (hwer-gel´mir). The seething caldron, 10;
    Yggdrasil root near, 19;
    Nidhug in, 20;
    ice streams from, 168;
    wicked in, 169.

  HYMIR (hē´mir). Story of Thor’s visit and fishing with, 174–177.

  HYNDLA (hēnd´lȧ). Freya and Ottar visit, 129.

  HYPERBOREANS. Northern equivalent, 276.

  HYPERION. Northern equivalent, 276.

  HYRROKIN (hēr´ro-kin). Ringhorn launched by, 190, 191.


  IAFN-HAR (yȧfn´här). Gylfi sees, 44.

  IARN-GREIPER (yärn´grī-per). Thor’s glove, 63.

  IARNSAXA (yärn´sax-ȧ).
    1. Thor’s wife called, 64;
       feeds wolves, 265.
    2. A wave maiden, 137.

  ICELAND. Thvera in, 118;
    Freya in, 124;
    maze in, 164;
    earthquakes and geysers in, 208;
    Norsemen settle in, 272;
    scenery of, 275.

  ICELANDERS. Records of, 9, 139;
    call mountains Jokul, 211.

  ICELANDIC. Shores, 224.

  IDA. Same as Idavold, 187;
    gods return to, 271;
    same as Asgard, 277.

  IDAVOLD. Plain where gods dwell, 18;
    gods play on, 187;
    Balder slain on, 188;
    last meeting on, 271.

  IDISES (ē-dis´ez). Norns, 159.

  IDUN (ē´doon). Daughter of Ivald, 98;
    story of, 100–106;
    returns to Asgard, 108;
    apples of, 155;
    Loki betrays, 199;
    Greek equivalents, 283, 284.

  IFING (ē´fing). River surrounding Idavold, 18;
    Vafthrudnir asks about, 38;
    Loki flies across, 77.

  ILDICO (il´di-co). Wife of Attila, 87, 88;
    same as Gudrun, 262.

  ILSE (il´se). Story of Princess, 215;
    compared to Arethusa, 288.

  ILSENSTEIN (il´sen-stīn). Home of Princess Ilse, 215.

  INDIA. Languages of, 274.

  INGLINGS. Frey’s descendants called, 122, 279.

  INGVI-FREY. Story of, 117–122.

  INSPIRATION. The story of the draft of, 93–97.

  IO. Northern equivalents for story of, 280, 281.

  IÖRMUNGANDR (yēr´mun-gandr). Birth and banishment of, 89;
    Hel related to, 166;
    Thor angles for, 176;
    origin of, 200;
    rises from sea, 266;
    Loki leads, 268;
    tempests caused by, 288.

  IRAN (ē-rän´). The plateau of, 9.

  IRIS (ī´ris). Compared to Gna, 280.

  IRMIN (ēr´min). Same as Odin, Heimdall, or Hermod, 36, 141, 146.

  IRMIN’S WAY. The Milky Way, 36.

  IRMINSUL (ēr´min-so͝ol). Destroyed by Charlemagne, 36.

  IRONWOOD. Iron leaves of, 167;
    wolves fed in, 265.

  ISLANDS. Eglimi, king of the, 237.

  ITALY. Golden Age in, 284.

  IVALD (ē´väld). Dwarf blacksmith, 66, 86;
    Idun, daughter of, 98.


  JACK AND JILL. Origin of story, 17.

  JACK IN THE GREEN, 42.

  JACK-O’-LANTERNS. Elf lights, 222.

  JANUARY. Yule in, 121;
    Vali’s month, 153.

  JARL (yärl). The birth of, 143.

  JASON. Northern equivalents, 282, 291.

  JILL. The origin of Jack and, 143.

  JOHN THE BAPTIST, 32.

  JOKUL (yō´ko͝ol). Same as Jötun, 211.

  JONAKUR. Gudrun, wife of, 260.

  JÖRD (yērd). Daughter of Nott, 15;
    wife of Odin, 43, 46, 61.

  JÖTUN-HEIM (yē´to͞on-hīm). Home of giants, 12;
    Vafthrudnir inquires about, 38;
    frost comes from, 69;
    Loki’s journey to, 78;
    Odin gazes at, 79;
    Thor visits Geirrod in, 80;
    Loki’s progeny in, 88, 89;
    Odin goes to, 94;
    Skirnir visits, 115;
    Thor personates Freya in, 127;
    Hel born in, 166;
    Hyrrokin dwells in, 190;
    Loki goes to, 198, 199;
    Loki’s home in, 200;
    giants dwell in, 210;
    Tartarus compared to, 275;
    Idun in, 283.

  JÖTUNS. Earth in the power of the, 48;
    the origin of, 210, 211;
    Thor feared by the, 211.

  JOVE. Day of, in the North, 282.

  JOYEUSE (zhwä´yēz). Charlemagne’s sword, 165.

  JUDEA (ju-dē´ȧ). Bethlehem in, 122.

  JUNO. Compared to Frigga, 280, 282;
    to Freya, 287.

  JUPITER. Odin compared to, 275, 277, 278, 279, 280;
    Amalthea, nurse of, 278;
    quarrels with Neptune, 278;
    outwitted by Juno, 280;
    Thor compared to, 281;
    secures Ganymede, 283;
    compared to Frey, 284;
    wishes to marry Thetis, 286;
    wooing of Europa, 290.

  JUSTICE. Compared to Forseti, 286.

  JUTERNAJESTA (yo͞o-ter-na-jest´ȧ). Senjemand loves, 212.


  KARI (kär´ē). Brother of Ægir, 171;
    brother of Loki, 199;
    son of Fornjotnr, 212.

  KARL. The birth of, 142.

  KERLAUG (kēr´loug). Thor wades across, 62.

  KNEFRUD (knef´ro͞od). Invites Niblungs to Hungary, 257;
    death of, 258.

  KOBOLD. Same as dwarfs, 18, 217;
    same as elves, 223.

  KONUR. The birth of, 143.

  KOPPELBERG. Children in the, 34.

  KORMT. Thor crosses, 62.

  KVASIR (kvä´sir).
    1. Murder of, 93;
      Odin covets mead of, 94.
    2. Loki surprised by, 206.


  LÆDING (lā´ding). Chain for Fenris, 90;
    proverb concerning, 283.

  LAGA (lä´gȧ). Same as Saga, 43.

  LAMPETIA (lam-pe-tī´ȧ). Northern equivalent for flocks of, 276.

  LANDVIDI (länd-vē´di). Home of Vidar, 147, 149.

  LANGOBARDEN. Story of, 50;
    Greek equivalent for, 280.

  LAUFEIA (lou-fī´ȧ). Mother of Loki, 199.

  LAUGARDAG (lou´gar-dag). Saturday called, 209.

  LAURIN (lou´rin). King of the dwarfs, 218.

  LEIPTER (līp´ter). Sacred stream in Nifl-heim, 168.

  LEMNOS. Northern equivalent for forge of, 291.

  LERAD (lā´räd). Topmost bough of Yggdrasil, 20, 26;
    the animals upon, 20.

  LESSOE. Island home of Ægir, 171.

  LETHRA (leth´rȧ). Sacrifices offered at, 53.

  LIF. One of the survivors of Ragnarok, 270;
    Greek counterpart of, 290.

  LIFTHRASIR (lif´thrä-sir). One of the survivors of Ragnarok, 270;
    Greek counterpart, 290.

  LIGHT ELVES. Alf-heim, dwelling of, 112.

  LIOD (lyōd). Same as Gna, 226.

  LIOS-ALFAR (lyōs´-alf-ar). Same as light elves, 221.

  LIOS-BERI (lyōs´-bā-rē). Month of Vali, 153.

  LIT, dwarf slain by Thor, 191.

  LODUR (lō´do͞or). Gives blood to man, 19;
    same as Loki, 199.

  LOFN (lōfn). Attendant of Frigga, 52.

  LOGI (lō´gē). Cook of Utgard-loki, 71;
    wild fire, 72.

  LOGRUM (lō´grum). Lake of, 53.

  LOKI (lō´kē). God of fire, 19;
    Sif’s hair stolen by, 65;
    Thor attacks, 66;
    different forms of, 66;
    wager with Brock, 67;
    flight of, 68;
    Brock sews lips of, 69;
    eating-wager of, 71;
    hammer recovered by, 76;
    marries giantess, 88;
    adventure with eagle, 101;
    called to account, 103;
    south wind is, 104;
    Skadi laughs at antics of, 109;
    the lightning is, 111;
    Brisinga-men coveted by, 127;
    falcon plumes borrowed by, 127;
    Freya urged by, 129;
    Freya accused by, 130;
    Hel, daughter of, 166;
    Ægir, brother of, 171;
    Frigga questioned by, 187;
    Hodur’s hand guided by, 188;
    Thok, same as, 194;
    the jealousy of, 196;
    tempter personified by, 197;
    god of fire, 198–209;
    son of Fornjotnr, 212;
    visits the earth, 240;
    slays Otter, 241;
    secures hoard, 242;
    Æsir tolerate, 263;
    released from bonds, 265;
    boards Nagilfar, 266;
    foes led by, 267, 268;
    death of, 269;
    Greek equivalent for Loki’s theft, 281;
    comparisons, 283, 286, 289, 290.

  LOMBARDS. Story of the, 50.

  LOMBARDY. The possession of, 50.

  LONGBEARDS. The saga of the, 50.

  LORELEI (lō´re-lī). Story of, 179, 180;
    Greek equivalent, 288.

  LORRIDE (lor´ri-de). Thor’s daughter, 64.

  LUCIFER. Loki the mediæval, 198.

  LYDIAN QUEEN. Northern equivalent, 281.

  LYGNI (lēg´ni). Wars against Sigmund, 237, 238;
    Sigurd slays, 244.

  LYMDALE (lēm´dāl). Brunhild’s home at, 248.

  LYNGVI (lēng´vi). Island where Fenris is bound, 91.


  “MACBETH.” The Norns in, 158.

  MAELSTROM (māl´strom). Millstones form the, 123.

  MAGDEBURG. Freya’s temple at, 128.

  MAGNI. Thor’s son, 64, 75;
    survival of, 271;
    Greek equivalent, 282.

  MAID MARIAN. On May day, 42.

  MÄLAR LAKE (mā´lar). Legend of its formation, 53.

  MANA-HEIM (man´ȧ-hīm). Same as Midgard, 19;
    Greek equivalent, 276.

  MANAGARM. The feeding of, 265;
    Greek equivalent, 290.

  MANI (man´e). The moon, 14;
    his companions, 16;
    death of, 264, 265;
    equivalent, 276.

  MANNIGFUAL (man´ig-fū-al). Ship, 214, 215;
    Greek equivalent, 290.

  MARAS (mär´az). Female trolls, 220.

  MARDEL (mär´del). Freya, 125.

  MARS. Northern equivalents, 282, 285.

  MARSYAS (mär´shy̆-as). Compared to Vafthrudnir, 279.

  MAY FESTIVALS, etc., 42.

  MEAD. Heidrun supplies mead, 20.

  MECKLENBURG. Worship of Frigga in, 59.

  MEGIN-GIÖRD (mā´gin-gyērd).
    Thor’s belt, 63;
    Thor tightens, 72.

  MELEAGER (mel-e-ā´jer). Nornagesta compared to, 287.

  MEMOR. Same as Mimir, 36.

  MENELAUS (men-e-lā´us). Northern equivalent, 291.

  MENIA (men´i-a). Frodi’s giantess slave, 122.

  MENTOR. Eckhardt compared to, 281.

  MERCURY. Northern equivalents, 279, 281, 282, 283.

  MERMAIDS. In Ægir’s palace, 288.

  MEROVEUS (mer-ō´ve-us). Birth of, 212;
    Greek equivalent, 290.

  MEROVINGIAN (mer-ō-vin´ji-an). Mythical descent of kings, 212.

  MESNÉE D’HELLEQUIN (mā-nā del-ē-cang). Wild Hunt in France, 32.

  MIDGARD (mid´gärd). Earth called, 13;
    man dwells in, 19;
    root of Yggdrasil in, 19;
    Bifröst spans, 20;
    fields of, 113;
    Uller rules, 131;
    rooster of, 265.

  MIDGARD SNAKE. Thor attempts to lift, 73;
    Hymir fears, 175;
    Thor hooks, 176, 177;
    birth of, 199;
    rises from sea, 266;
    Thor slays, 268, 269;
    equivalent, 276;
    tempests caused by, 288.

  MIDNIGHT. Part of day, 17.

  MIDSUMMER. Balder disappears at, 133;
    night, fairy revels, 223;
    eve, festival, 197.

  MILKY WAY in Germany and Holland, 36, 59.

  MIMING (mē´ming). A sword, 165.

  MIMIR (mē´mir). Well of, 19, 92, 94, 137, 138;
    god of ocean, 171;
    son of Hler, 212;
    Odin’s last talk with, 268.

  MINERVA. Northern equivalents, 278, 279, 285.

  MINOS (mī´nos). Northern equivalent, 287.

  MIÖLNIR (myēl´nir). Thor’s hammer, 63;
    Thor receives, 68;
    Thor gives life with, 70;
    Thor slays with, 177;
    giant slain by, 204, 211;
    dwarfs make, 68, 218;
    Midgard snake slain with, 269;
    Greek equivalent for, 281.

  MISTLETOE. Oath not sworn by, 184.

  MÖDGUD (mud´go͞od). Warder of Giöll, 167, 192, 193;
    Greek equivalent, 288.

  MODI (mō´dē). Thor’s son, 64;
    survival of, 271.

  MODIR. Heimdall visits, 143.

  MŒRÆ (mē´rē). Compared to Norns, 278.

  MOERI (mē´rē). Thor’s temple at, 82.

  MOKERKIALFI (mō´ker-kyȧlf-ē). A clay image which Thialfi fights, 74.

  MORNING. Part of day, 17.

  MORS. Northern equivalent, 288.

  MOSELLE (mō-zel´). Celebrations along the, 119.

  MOSS MAIDENS. Wild Hunt for, 31;
    Greek equivalents, 223.

  MOTHER NIGHT. Longest night in year, 119.

  MÜHLBERG (mül´berg). Battle of, 88.

  MUNDILFARI (mo͞on´dil-fär-ē). Father of sun and moon drivers, 14.

  MUNIN (mū´nin). Odin’s raven, 24;
    Od-hroerir found by, 94;
    Greek equivalent, 278.

  MUSPELL (mo͝os´pel). Sons of, 266.

  MUSPELLS-HEIM (mo͞os´pels-hīm). Home of fire, 10;
    sparks from, 14;
    host from, 266.

  MYSINGER (mē´sing-er). Viking, slays Frodi, 123.


  NAGILFAR (nag´il-fär). Launching of, 266.

  NAGILFARI (nag´il-fär-i). Nott’s first husband, 15.

  NAIN. Dwarf of death, 98.

  NAL. Mother of Loki, 199.

  NANNA (nän´nȧ). Forseti’s mother, 134;
    Balder’s wife, 182;
    death of, 190;
    accompanies Balder, 193;
    sends carpet to Frigga, 194;
    emblem of vegetation, 196;
    compared to Greek divinities, 289.

  NARVE (när´va). Son of Loki, 200;
    death of, 207.

  NASTROND (nä´strond). The wicked in, 169, 272;
     compared to Tartarus, 288.

  NECKAR (nek´kar). God and river, 178, 179, 288.

  NECKS. Water sprites, 178, 179.

  NECTAR. Compared to Northern drink, 277.

  NEMEAN LION (nē´mē-an lī’on). Northern equivalent, 286.

  NEPTUNE. Northern equivalents, 275, 278, 284, 288, 289.

  NEREIDES (ne-rē´i-dēz). Northern equivalents, 288.

  NEREUS (nē´re-us). Niörd like, 284.

  NERTHUS (nēr´thus). Same as Frigga, 59, 60;
    Niörd’s wife, 108, 112, 124.

  NIBELUNGENLIED (nē´be-lo͝ong-en-lēd). German epic, 225.

  NIBLUNGS (nē´blo͝ongz). Sigurd visits the, 250;
    Brunhild, queen, 251, 252;
    lament of, 256;
    visit Atli, 257, 258.

  NICK, OLD. Origin of the name of, 178.

  NICORS (nik´orz). Sea monsters, 178.

  NIDA (nē´dȧ). Home of dwarfs, 273.

  NIDHUG (nē´dho͞og). Gnaws Yggdrasil, 20, 149, 169, 265;
    flies over Vigrid, 267.

  NIDUD (nē´do͞od). King of Sweden, 163, 164, 165;
    comparison, 287.

  NIFL-HEIM (nīfl´hīm). Land of mist, 10;
    root of Yggdrasil, in, 19;
    Bifröst connects, 20;
    Odin gazes into, 39;
    Hel in, 89, 166;
    Hel’s bird in, 265;
    Idun in, 105;
    Uller, 133;
    horn heard in, 138;
    Odin visits, 184;
    Hermod visits, 189, 190;
    Balder in, 193;
    equivalents, 276, 283, 288, 289.

  NIGHT. Birth of, 15;
    horses of, 37.

  NIÖRD (nyērd). A hostage, 22;
    god of sea, 107–111, 171;
    Skadi marries, 109, 134;
    glove of, 111;
    Frey, son of, 112–114;
    semi-historical, 117;
    oath sworn by, 118;
    Freya, daughter of, 124;
    Greek equivalents, 171, 285.

  NIP. Father of Nanna, 182.

  NIXIES. Dwell with Ægir, water spirits, 178, 179, 288.

  NÔATÛN (no͞o´ȧ-to͞on). Niörd’s home, 107, 108, 109, 110.

  NOON. Part of day, 17.

  NORDRI (nôr´drē). Dwarf, supports heaven, 14.

  NORNAGESTA (nôrn-a-ges´tȧ). Story of, 157, 158;
    compared to Meleager, 287.

  NORNS. Yggdrasil sprinkled by, 20;
    office of, 38, 154–159;
    decree of, 86;
    Odin questions, 145, 148;
    Valkyrs same as, 162;
    mortals visited by, 234;
    torn web of, 267;
    Greek equivalents, 278, 286.

  NORSEMEN. Elves guide, 224;
    various beliefs of the, 272.

  NORTH SEA. Mannigfual in, 214, 290.

  NORVI (nôr´vē). Father of Night, 15, 154;
    ancestor of Norns, 154.

  NORWAY. Landscape in, 9;
    Odin conquers, 43, 44;
    Thor, god in, 62–64;
    kings of, 111, 117;
    Maelstrom near, 123;
    Freya in, 124, 130.

  NOTT. Goddess of night, 15.

  NOVEMBER. Sacred to Uller, 132, 133.

  NYMPHS. Compared to elves, 277.


  OATHS. Sworn on Gungnir, 24, 279;
    on swords, 85;
    by Frey, 118;
    on boar, 120;
    by Uller, 133;
    by Leipter, 168;
    in favor of Balder, 184.

  OBERON (ō´be-ron). Fairy king, 218, 223.

  OBERWESEL (ō-ber-vā´zel). Fisherman of, 180.

  OCEAN. Ymir’s blood, 13.

  OCEANIDES (ō-sē-an´i-dēz). Compared to wave maidens, 288.

  OCEANUS (ō-se´ȧ-nus). Northern equivalent, 276.

  OD-HROERIR (od-hrē´rir). Kettle of inspiration, 93;
    Odin in quest of, 103;
    compared to Helicon, 283.

  ODIN (ō´din). Birth of, 12;
    creates man, 19;
    hall of, 20;
    goat of, 20;
    brother of, 22;
    general account of, 23–45;
    attributes of, 24;
    mantle and spear of, 24;
    footstool of, 25;
    god of victory, 26;
    battle loved by, 28;
    the Wild Huntsman, 32;
    leader of souls, 34;
    constellation of, 36;
    one eye of, 36, 88, 92, 227, 267;
    Geirrod fostered by, 40;
    historical Odin, 40, 117, 280;
    serpents of, 45;
    statues of, 45;
    Frigga, wife of, 46;
    toast to, 46;
    return of, 48;
    Thor, son of, 61;
    present for, 66–68;
    Hrungnir races with, 73;
    downfall of, 268;
    Thrym-heim viewed by, 79;
    Grid, wife of, 80, 147;
    compared to Tyr, 84;
    spear of, 68, 86, 218, 235;
    disposes of Loki’s progeny, 89, 166;
    discovers Od-hroerir, 94;
    Gunlod won by, 96;
    runes of, 99;
    visits earth, 101;
    Loki joins, 102;
    Loki called to account by, 103;
    gives Idum wolfskin, 105;
    sky is, 106;
    Hoenir related to, 107;
    throne of, 114;
    Freya marries, 129;
    Uller replaces, 131;
    drives Uller away, 132, 133;
    wave maidens, wives of, 137;
    Heimdall as, 141;
    Hermod, messenger of, 144;
    runic staff of, 145;
    to lose son, 146;
    prediction concerning, 149;
    Rinda courted by, 150–152, 195;
    visits Norns, 156, 267;
    Valkyrs attend, 160;
    decree concerning Völund’s sword, 165;
    Balder, son of, 182, 183;
    Vala consulted by, 184–186;
    cheered by Frigga, 187;
    lends Sleipnir, 189;
    whispers to Balder, 190;
    Draupnir returned to, 194;
    emblem of sky, 196;
    Loki, brother of, 198;
    trilogy, 199;
    helps peasants, 201;
    Sleipnir, horse of, 204;
    Loki surprised by, 206;
    visits giants, 211;
    Sigi, son of, 225;
    gives sword to Sigmund, 227, 233;
    Helgi approved by, 236;
    receives Sinfiotli, 237;
    Sigurd advised by, 240, 244, 245;
    visits Hreidmar, 241;
    Brunhild punished by, 248;
    comparisons between Greek divinities and, 277, 278, 279, 280, 283,
        284, 286, 291.

  ODENSÖ (ō´den-sē). Founded by Odin, 43.

  ODUR (ō´do͝or). Freya’s husband, 125;
    Freya finds, 126;
    Freya’s search for, 127;
    sunshine is, 129;
    equivalents, 279, 285.

  ŒNONE (ē-nō´ne). Compared to Brunhild, 292.

  ŒTA (ē´tȧ). Northern equivalent for pyre on, 289.

  OKOLNUR (o-kol´no͝or). Giants dwell in, 273.

  OLAF (ō´läf). Destroys statues, 45, 82, 83, 118;
    Yule changed by, 121;
    Nornagesta visits, 158, 287;
    giants in days of, 212.

  OLAF, SIR. Captured by fairies, 222.

  OLD NICK. Origin of name, 178.

  OLDENBURG. Drinking horn, 214.

  OLLER. Same as Uller, 131.

  OLRUN (ol´ro͞on). Marries mortal, 163.

  OLYMPUS (o-lim´pus). Northern equivalents, 276, 277, 278, 287.

  OMENS. Wolves are good, 24.

  OMPHALE (om´fa-lē). Northern equivalent for, 281.

  OREADES (o-rē´a-dez). Compared to Northern divinities, 277.

  ORGELMIR (ôr-gel´mir). Ice and fire giant, 11.

  ORION (o-rī´on). Northern equivalents for, 47, 284, 286.

  ORLOG (ôr´log). Irrevocable decrees of, 155, 186;
    equivalent, 278.

  ORMT. Thor wades across, 62.

  ORPHEUS (ôr´fūs). Northern equivalents, 280, 283, 289, 292.

  ORVANDIL (ôr-van´dil). Thor brings home, 76;
    equivalent, 282.

  OSTARA (os´tä-rȧ). Eástre, 57.

  OTTAR. Freya helps, 128, 129.

  OTTER. Slain by Loki, 241.

  OXFORD. Yule at, 119.


  PADERBORN (pä´der-born). Irminsul near, 36.

  PARIS. Northern equivalent, 290, 292.

  PEACE FRODI. Story of, 122.

  PEACE STEADS. Of the gods, 18, 189.

  PEGASUS (peg´ȧ-sus). Blodug-hofi compared to, 284.

  PELIAS (pē´li-as). Northern equivalent, 282.

  PENEUS (pe-nē´us). Northern equivalent, 288.

  PENTECOST. Princess Ilse appeared at, 215.

  PENTLAND FIRTH. Whirlpool in, 123.

  PERSEUS (per´sūs). Northern equivalent, 287, 291.

  PHAETHUSA (fā-e-thū´sa). Northern equivalent, 276.

  PHAETON (fā´e-ton). Northern equivalent, 285.

  PHILEMON (fi-lē´mon). Northern equivalent, 279.

  PHILOCTETES (fil-ok-tē´tez). Northern equivalent for arrows of, 291.

  PHŒBE (fē´be). Equivalent, 276.

  PHŒBUS (fē´bus). Equivalent, 276.

  PHŒNICIAN (fē-nish´an). Dwarfs compared to miners, 220.

  PIED PIPER. Story of, 33, 34;
    Greek equivalent, 280.

  PLUTO. Northern equivalents, 275, 277, 281.

  POLLUX (pol´uks). Northern equivalent, 292.

  PRIAM (prī´am). Compared to Odin, 290.

  PROCRIS (prō´kris). Northern equivalent, 277.

  PROMETHEUS (prō-mē´thūs). Northern equivalent, 278, 289.

  PROSERPINE (pros´er-pin). Northern equivalents for, 279, 281, 282,
        283, 289.

  PROTEUS (prō´tūs). Northern equivalent, 286.

  PSYCHOPOMPUS (sī-ko-pŏm´pus). Compared to Odin, 280.

  PUCKS. Same as dwarfs, 217.

  PYRRHA (pir´ȧ). Northern equivalent, 290.

  PYRRHUS (pir´us). Northern equivalent, 290.

  PYTHON (pī´thon). Compared to Fafnir, 291.


  QUICKBORN. Magic fountain of, 57.


  RAGING HOST. Same as Wild Hunt, 30, 32.

  RAGNAR LODBROG (rȧg´nar lŏd’brog). Aslaug marries, 249.

  RAGNAROK (rȧg´nȧ-rŭk). Heimdall to announce, 21;
    murder, precursor of, 204;
    recruits for battle at, 236;
    the tragedy of, 270;
    comparisons, 273, 290;
    Fenris dies at, 286.

  RAN. Wife of Ægir, 172, 178;
    sister of Loki, 199;
    Loki makes a net like, 206;
    Loki borrows net of, 242;
    compared to Amphitrite, 288.

  RANDWER. The death of, 260.

  RAT TOWER. In the Rhine, 35.

  RATATOSK (rä´tȧ-tusk). Squirrel, telltale, 20;
    equivalent, 278.

  RATI (rä´tē). Odin’s auger, 95.

  REGIN (rā´gin). Sigurd educated by, 239;
    the story of, 240–243;
    Sigurd to slay Fafnir for, 243;
    sword forged by, 244;
    demands satisfaction, 245;
    death of, 246.

  REINE PÉDAUQUE (rān pe-dōk´). Frigga same as, 59.

  RENOWN. Compared to Heimdall, 286.

  RERIR (rā´rir). Son of Odin, receives apple, 51, 52, 226;
    Greek equivalent for story of, 261.

  RESURRECTION. Word whispered by Odin, 38, 190.

  RHINE. Tower in the, 35;
    gold of the, 164, 225;
    divinity of the, 179, 288;
    Lorelei in the, 179–81;
    Brunhild and Gudrun bathe in the, 253;
    hoard sunk in the, 257.

  RIESENGEBIRGE (rē´zen-ge-bēr-ge). Giant mountains, 211, 290.

  RIGER (rē´ger). Heimdall visits earth as, 141.

  RINDA (rin´dȧ). Wife of Odin, 43, 195;
    prophecy concerning, 146, 185;
    Odin courts, 150, 195;
    Greek equivalents, 277, 286.

  RINGHORN. Balder’s pyre on, 190, 191;
    Greek equivalent, 289.

  RODENSTEIN (rō´den-stīn). Wild Hunt led by, 31, 32.

  ROMANS. Æsir driven from Asia Minor by, 43;
    Vitellius, prefect, 86;
    Christianity, 224.

  ROME. Tannhäuser visits, 56;
    Vitellius, emperor of, 86.

  ROSKVA (ros´kvȧ). Thor’s servant, 70.

  ROSSTHIOF (ros´thēf). The prophecy of, 145, 150, 152, 185;
    compared, 286.

  ROSTERUS (ros´ter-us). Odin as smith, 151.

  RÜGEN (rē´gen). Nerthus’s worship on island of, 59.

  RUNES (ro͞onz). Odin masters and uses, 39, 94, 182, 185.

  RUSSIA. Æsir migrate to, 43;
    name for, 146.

  RUTHENES. Odin visits the land of the, 146, 150.


  SÆHRIMNIR (sā´hrim-nir). Boar in Valhalla, 27.

  SÆMING (sā´ming). King of Norway, 44, 111.

  SÆMUND (sā´mo͞ond). Compiler of Elder Edda, 224.

  SAGA (sä´gä).
    1. Wife of Odin, 43, 279.
    2. Records called, 10, 87, 262, 272.

  SAGITTARIUS. Northern equivalent, 132.

  ST. GERTRUDE. Belief in, 130.

  ST. GOAR. Lorelei at, 179.

  ST. HUBERT. Uller is, 132.

  ST. JOHN’S DAY. Celebrations, 197.

  ST. MICHAEL. Bears Cheru’s sword, 88.

  ST. VALENTINE. Replaces Vali, 153.

  SARPEDON (sär-pē´don). Northern equivalent, 290.

  SATAERE (sāt´ā-re). God of agriculture, 209.

  SATAN. Same as Loki, 209.

  SATURDAY. Sacred to Loki, 209.

  SATURN. Equivalent, 209, 284.

  SAXNOT. God of Saxons, 86;
    Frey like, 112.

  SAXON. Irmin, a god, 36;
    Hengist and Horsa, 44;
    Eástre, goddess, 57.

  SAXONY. Conquered by Odin, 44.

  SCALDS. Edda the work of, 10.

  SCANDINAVIA. Worship in, 60, 108, 121, 223, 224;
    fairies in, 222.

  SCANDINAVIANS. Belief of the, 132, 147, 211, 212;
    epic of the, 225;
    topographical belief of the, 211.

  SCHWARTZE SEE (shvärt´se sā). Nerthus’s car bathed in the, 60.

  SCOURGE OF GOD. Attila the, 87, 262.

  SCYLLA (sil´ä). Northern equivalent, 283.

  SEASONS. The division of the, 17.

  SEELAND. Gefjon plows, 53, 280.

  SENJEMAND (sen´je-mänd). Story of giant, 212, 213.

  SENJEN. Island of, 212, 213.

  SESSRYMNIR (ses´rim-nir). Freya’s home is, 124.

  SHAKESPEARE. Norns used by, 158.

  SIBICH (sē´bikh). The traitor, 260.

  “SIEGFRIED” (sēg´frēd). Wagner’s opera of, 225.

  SIF. Wife of Thor, 64;
    hair stolen, 65–68, 199;
    Uller, son of, 131;
    Loki slanders, 205, 206;
    dwarfs make hair, 218;
    comparisons, 281, 282.

  SIGGEIR (sig´īr). Marriage feast of, 226–228;
    treachery and death of, 228, 230, 233.

  SIGI (sig´ē). Son of Odin, 44, 225;
    comparison, 261.

  SIGMUND (sig´mo͝ond). Völund’s sword for, 165;
    brother of Signy, 227;
    sword won by, 228;
    a prisoner, 229;
    the vow of, 230;
    tests Signy’s sons, 231;
    a werewolf, 232;
    prisoner of Siggeir, 233;
    escape and vengeance of, 234;
    the son of, 236;
    Hiordis, wife of, 237;
    death of, 238;
    Sigurd, son of, 239;
    the sword of, 244;
    comparisons, 261, 291.

  SIGNY (sig´ni). Volsung’s daughter, 226–229;
    vengeance of, 230–234.

  SIGTUNA (sig-tū´nȧ). Odin founds, 43.

  SIGURD (sē´go͞ord). Brunhild to marry, 165;
    story of, 225;
    birth of, 239;
    Grani selected by, 240;
    Regin speaks to, 243;
    sword of, 244;
    slays Fafnir, 245;
    rides through flames, 247;
    betrothal of, 248;
    marriage of, 249;
    Gudrun gives potion to, 250;
    Gudrun, wife of, 251;
    wooes Brunhild for Gunnar, 252;
    awakening of, 253;
    death of, 254–256;
    funeral pyre of, 255;
    Gudrun mourns, 257;
    Atli slain with sword of, 260;
    a sun myth, 261;
    Greek equivalents, 287, 291, 292.

  SIGYN (sē´gēn). Loki’s faithful wife, 200, 207.

  SINDRI (sin´drē). Dwarf, smith, 67, 68;
    king of dwarfs, 273.

  SINDUR (sin´do͝or). A wave maiden, 137.

  SINFIOTLI (sin-fe-ot´li). Birth and education of, 231;
    Signy aids, 233;
    vengeance of, 234;
    career and death of, 235, 236.

  SIR OLAF. Fairies beguile, 222.

  SIRENS. Compared to Lorelei, 288.

  SIRIUS (sir´i-us). Northern equivalent, 284.

  SKADI (skä´dē). Wife of Odin, 43;
    in Asgard, 108, 109;
    wife of Niörd, 112, 124;
    wife of Uller, 132;
    punishes Loki, 207;
    comparison, 284.

  SKIALF (skyȧlf). Same as Freya, 125.

  SKIDBLADNIR (skid-bläd´nir). Dvalin makes, 66, 218;
    properties of, 66;
    Frey owns, 68, 113;
    comparison, 282.

  SKIN-FAXI. Steed of Day, 15.

  SKIOLD (shōld). King of Denmark, 44, 53.

  SKIOLDINGS (shōld´ings). Descendants of, 53, 279.

  SKIRNIR (skēr´nir). Servant of Frey, 90, 114, 117;
    journey of, 114, 115, 285.

  SKÖLL (skul). Wolf pursuing sun and moon, 16, 265, 290.

  SKRYMIR (skrim´ir). Thor’s encounter with, 71, 72.

  SKRYMSLI (skrims´lē). The story of giant, 201.

  SKULD (sko͞old). One of the Norns called, 154, 155, 157, 159, 162.

  SLAGFINN. Marries a Valkyr, 163.

  SLEEPING BEAUTY. Origin of myth, 158.

  SLEIPNIR (slīp´nir). Odin’s steed, 29, 39, 73, 75, 184, 268;
    Hermod rides, 145, 189, 193;
    Loki, parent of, 204, 290;
    Grani, son of, 240.

  SLID (slēd). Stream in Nifl-heim, 168.

  SNOR. Wife of Karl, 142.

  SNORRO-STURLESON (snor´rō-sto͞or´-lā-sun). Author of “Heimskringla,”
        117.

  SNOTRA (snō´trȧ). Goddess of virtue, 53.

  SOKVABEK (so-kvä´bek). Home of Saga, 43;
    comparison, 279.

  SOL. The sun maid, 14, 264;
    death of, 265, 270;
    compared, 276.

  SOMNUS. Northern equivalent for servants of, 291.

  SON (sŏn). Bowl of expiation, 93.

  SÖRLI (sēr´li). Son of Gudrun, 260, 261;
    compared, 292.

  SPARTAN KING. Equivalent, 291.

  STEROPES. Northern equivalent, 284.

  STRAW DEATH. Northern contempt for, 168.

  STROMKARLS. Water divinities, 178, 179.

  SUABIANS (swā´bi-ȧnz). Tyr, a god of the, 84.

  SUDRI (sū´drē). Supports heavenly vault, 14.

  SURTR (so͞ortr). Flame giant, 10;
    progeny, 15;
    world destroyed by, 21;
    arrival of, 267, 268;
    Frey slain by, 269;
    world consumed by, 270.

  SUTTUNG (so͝ot´to͞ong). The story of giant, 94, 95, 97.

  SVADILFARE (svä´dil-fär-e). Horse of architect, 202, 203.

  SVALIN (svä´lin). Shield tempered sun rays, 14.

  SVANHVIT (svon´whit). Marries mortal, 163.

  SVART-ALFA-HEIM (svärt-alf´a-hīm). Home of dwarfs, 18, 66, 90, 113,
        127, 220.

  SVART-ALFAR (svärt-alf´ar), 217.

  SVASUD (svä´zood). Father of Summer, 17.

  SWANHILD (swon´hild). Daughter of Gudrun, 256, 257, 260;
    compared, 292.

  SWEDEN. Landscapes of, 9;
    May-day in, 42;
    Odin conquers, 43, 44;
    Gylfi, king of, 44, 52;
    Thor in, 64;
    Frey, king of, 122;
    Frodi visits, 122;
    Freya in, 124, 130;
    Nidud, king of, 163;
    miners in, 220.

  SWITZERLAND. Giants in, 211.

  SWORD DANCES, 84, 85.

  SYN (sēn). Goddess of truth, 52.

  SYR (sir). Same as Freya, 125.


  TANNGNIOSTR (täng´nyos-ter). Thor’s goat, 64.

  TANNGRISNR (tän´gris-ner). Thor’s goat, 64.

  TANNHÄUSER (tän´hoi-zer). Story of, 56, 57;
    equivalent for, 281.

  TARNKAPPE (tärn´kap-pe). Invisible cap, 218.

  TARTARUS (tär´tar-us). Northern equivalents, 275, 283, 288.

  TELEMACHUS (te-lem´a-kus). Northern equivalent, 281.

  TEUTON (tū´ton). Ostara, a goddess, 58.

  TEUTONIC GODS, 209, 211.

  THANATOS (than´a-tos). Same as Hel, 288.

  THESEUS (thē´sūs). Northern equivalent, 291, 292.

  THETIS (thē´tis). Northern equivalent for, 286.

  THIALFI (te-älf´e). Servant of, 69, 70, 72, 80;
    duel of, 74, 75;
    Egil’s son, 174.

  THIASSI (te-äs´se). Loki’s adventure with, 101;
    Idun kidnapped, 102, 103, 104, 107–109, 199, 283;
    Loki pursued by, 104, 108;
    Gerda, relative of, 114;
    the eyes of, 283, 284.

  THING (ting). Northern popular assembly, 30, 128, 129.

  THOK (tok). Loki as, 194, 196, 204;
    comparison, 289.

  THOR (thôr or tôr). Never crosses Bifröst, 21;
    Jörd, mother of, 43;
    toast to, 46;
    god of thunder, 61–83;
    infancy of, 61;
    anger of, 61, 65;
    description of, 62;
    hat of, 64;
    Alvis petrified by, 65;
    Miölnir given to, 68;
    drinking wager of, 72;
    duel with Hrungnir, 74;
    adventure with Geirrod, 80;
    temples and statues of, 82;
    Tyr like, 84;
    giants hated by, 113, 211;
    Yule sacred to, 118;
    Brisinga-men worn by, 127;
    Uller, stepson of, 131;
    Grid’s gauntlet helps, 148;
    kettle secured by, 174;
    goes fishing, 175, 176, 177;
    consecrates Balder’s pyre, 191;
    visits Utgard-loki, 198;
    slays architect, 204;
    threatens Loki, 206;
    slays Midgard snake, 269;
    sons of, 271;
    Greek equivalents, 281, 282, 290.

  THORA (tō´rȧ). Wife of Elf, daughter of Hakon, 256.

  THORBURN. Origin of name, 81.

  THORN OF SLEEP. Brunhild stung by, 248.

  THORWALDSEN (tôr´wald-sn). Origin of name, 81.

  THRALL. Birth of, 141, 142.

  THRIDI (trē´dē). One of the trilogy, 44.

  THRONDHJEIM (trōnd´yem). Temple of Frey at, 118.

  THRUD (tro͞od). Thor’s daughter, 64, 65.

  THRUDGELMIR (tro͞od-gel´mir). Birth of giant, 12.

  THRUD-HEIM (tro͞od´hīm). Thor’s realm, 61.

  THRUNG (tro͞ong). Freya, 125.

  THRYM (trim). Thor visits, 77, 78, 281, 282;
    Freya refuses, 129;
    son of Kari, 212.

  THRYM-HEIM (trim´hīm). Home of Thiassi, 102;
    Loki visits, 103, 104.

  THUNDERER. Same as Odin, 277.

  THUNDERHILL. Named after Thor, 81.

  THURINGIA (thū-rin´ji-ȧ). Hörselberg in, 56;
    giants in, 215.

  THURSDAY. Sacred to Thor, 82, 282.

  THURSES (to͞ors´ez). Giants called, 210.

  THVERA (tvā´rȧ). Temple of Frey at, 118.

  THVITI (tvē´ti). Bowlder where Fenris is bound, 92.

  THYR (tir or tēr). Wife of Thrall, 141.

  TITANIA. Queen of fairies, 223.

  TITANS. Northern equivalents for, 275, 283, 290.

  TITYUS (tit´i-us). Northern equivalent, 289.

  TIU (tū). Same as Tyr, 84, 282.

  TOASTS. To Odin, 45;
    to Frigga, 46;
    to Bragi, 99;
    to Niörd and Frey, 111;
    to Freya, 130.

  TORGE (tôr´ge). Story of giant, 213.

  TORGHATTEN (torg-hat´ten). Mountain, 213.

  TREE MAIDENS. Elves same as, 223.

  TRENT. Superstition along the, 173.

  TROLLS. Dwarfs known as, 18, 213, 217, 220, 291.

  TROY. Northern equivalent for siege of, 280.

  TÜBINGEN (tē´bing-en). Worship of Tyr in, 92.

  TUESDAY. Tyr’s day, 84.

  TWELFTH-NIGHT. Wild Hunt at, 31;
    festival, 59.

  TWILIGHT OF THE GODS, 263, 273.

  TYR (tēr). Son of Frigga, 43;
    god of war, 84–92;
    one arm, 88, 267;
    feeds Fenris, 89;
    like Frey, 112;
    like Irmin, 144;
    chains Fenris, 166;
    accompanies Thor, 174–177;
    fights Garm, 268;
    death of, 269.

  TYRFING (tēr´fing). Magic sword, 219.

  TYROL (tĭr´ul). Story of flax in, 54.

  TYR’S HELM. Aconite called, 92.


  ULFRUN (o͝ol´froon). A wave maiden, 137.

  ULLER (o͝ol´er). Skadi marries, 111;
    winter-god, 131–133;
    equivalents, 286.

  ULYSSES (ū-lis´sez). Compared to Tannhäuser, 281.

  UNDINES (un´dēnz). Female water divinities, 178, 179, 288.

  UPSALA (up-sä´lȧ). Temple at, 44, 82, 280;
    Ingvi-Frey at, 117;
    mound at, 284.

  URD (o͝ord). One of the Norns, 154, 155.

  URDAR (o͝ord´ar). Fountain, 19, 20, 21, 62, 148, 154, 155, 186, 268.

  UTGARD (o͝ot´gard). Realm of, 71, 72.

  UTGARD-LOKI. Castle of, 71, 72, 73;
    evil, 198;
    Thor visits, 198.


  VAFTHRUDNIR (väf-tro͞od´nir). Odin’s visit to, 37, 211, 279;
    fulfillment of prediction, 266.

  VAK (väk). Odin as, 151.

  VALA (vä´lȧ). Druidess, 86;
    grave of, 185.

  VALAS. Norns called, 158;
    Odin consults, 184.

  VALASKIALF (vä´la-skyȧlf). Hall in Asgard, 25;
    Vali in, 153.

  VALENTINE. Vali as St., 153.

  VALFATHER. Same as Odin, 26, 160.

  VALFREYA. Same as Freya, 124.

  VALHALLA (väl-häl´lȧ). Description of, 25–28, 38;
    masters of, 62;
    Hrungnir enters, 73;
    Tyr welcomed to, 84;
    Tyr’s warriors in, 88;
    Bragi, bard of, 99;
    heroes in, 141, 145, 235;
    Vidar visits, 148;
    Valkyrs choose guests for, 160, 162;
    Ran’s hall rivals, 172;
    mistletoe near, 184, 188;
    Helgi promised, 234, 235;
    Gudrun returns to, 236;
    Fialar above, 265;
    host of, 268.

  VALI (vä´lē). Emblem of spring, 43.
    1. The avenger, 150–153, 186;
       slays Hodur, 195;
       survival of, 271.
    2. Son of Loki, 200, 207.

  VALKYRS (val´kirz). Attendants of Odin, 26;
    of the heroes, 26, 28;
    of Tyr, 88;
    led by Freya, 124;
    accompany Hermod, 145;
    Skuld a, 159;
    general account of, 160–165;
    Helgi marries a, 235;
    Gudrun a, 236;
    Brunhild a, 248;
    Freya a, 285;
    Hebe compared to the, 287.

  VALPURGISNACHT (väl-po͞or´gēs-nähkt). Witches’ dance on, 130, 159.

  VALTAM (väl´tam). Vegtam, son of, 185.

  VAN. Niörd a, 22, 284.

  VANA-HEIM. Home of the Vanas, 21, 22, 107, 112, 124.

  VANABRIDE. Freya, 124.

  VANADIS (văn´ȧ-dis). Freya, 124.

  VANAS. Sea and wind gods, 21, 112, 124, 139, 171;
    quarrel between the Æsir and the, 93, 107;
    comparisons, 271, 278.

  VANDALS. Story of Winilers and, 49, 280.

  VARA (vä´rȧ). Oath keeper, 53.

  VASUD (vä´so͞od). Father of Vindsual, 17.

  VE (vā). Creation of, 12, 19, 278;
    replaces Odin, 42, 132;
    equivalent, 275.

  VECHA (vech´ȧ). Odin as, 151.

  VEDFOLNIR (ved-fol´nir). Falcon, reporter, 20.

  VEGTAM (veg´tam). Odin, 185.

  VEIMER (vī´mer). Thor fords, 80, 282.

  VELEDA. Warns Drusus, 159.

  VENEUR DE FONTAINEBLEAU (vēn-ur duh fōn-tān-blō´). Wild Huntsman, 32.

  VENUS. Northern equivalents for, 279, 282, 285, 291.

  VERDANDI (vēr-dän´dē). Norn of present, 154;
    beneficent ways of, 155.

  VESPASIAN (ves-pā´shan). Election of, 87.

  VIDAR (vē´där). Parents of, 43;
    story of, 147–149;
    slays Fenris, 269;
    the survival of, 153, 271;
    comparisons, 286, 290.

  VIENNA. Customs in, 120, 121.

  VIGRID (vig´rid). Last battle on plain of, 38, 208, 266, 268, 271.

  VIKINGS (vī´kingz). Valkyrs take, 161.

  VILI (vē´lē). Creation, 12, 19, 278;
    replaces Odin, 42, 132;
    comparison, 275.

  VINDSUAL (vind´su-al). Father of Winter, 17.

  VINGNIR (ving´nir). Foster father of Thor, 61.

  VINGOLF (ving´golf). Tyr welcome in, 84.

  VINGTHOR (ving´tôr). Same as Thor, 61.

  VINLAND. Norse settlement in, 224.

  VIRGIN. Sponge called hand of, 111;
    health of, 130.

  VITELLIUS. Has Cheru’s sword, 86, 87.

  VJOFN (vyofn). Goddess of concord, 52.

  VOLLA. Same as Fulla, 50, 51.

  VOLSUNG (vol´so͝ong). Saga of, 225, 292;
    birth of, 52, 226;
    career and death of, 225–230;
    descendants of, 231, 235, 238, 261.

  VÖLUND (vēl-oond). Story of the smith, 163–165, 287.

  VÖLUNDARHAUS (vēl´oond-ar-hous’). Maze, 164;
    compared to Cretan labyrinth, 287.

  VON. River from Fenris’s mouth, 92.

  VÖR (vēr). Same as Faith, 53.

  VROU-ELDE (vrou-eld´e). Same as Frigga, 59.

  VROU-ELDEN-STRAAT. Milky Way in Holland, 59.

  VULCAN. Northern equivalents for, 277, 285, 287, 291.

  VULDER (vo͝ol´der). Same as Uller, 132.


  WAGNER. Four operas from Volsunga Saga, 225.

  WAIN. Same as Great Bear, 36.

  WANDERER. Same as Odin, 37.

  WAVES. Ægir’s daughters, 173, 288.

  WEDNESDAY. Sacred to Odin, 45.

  WELDEGG. King of East Saxony, 44.

  WEREWOLF. Sigmund a, 232.

  WESER (vā´zer). Rats drowned in, 33.

  WEST SAXONY. Conquered by Odin, 44.

  WESTERBURG. Ilse loves knight of the, 215.

  WESTRI (wes´trē). Dwarf supporting heavenly vault, 14.

  WHITE LADY. Last appearance of, 58, 59.

  WILD HUNT. Leaders of, 30, 32, 59, 132.

  WILD HUNTSMAN, 30, 32.

  WILL-O’-THE-WISP. Mediæval superstition concerning, 222.

  WIND. Waves play with, 173.

  WINGI (wing´ē). Same as Knefrud, 257.

  WINILERS (win´i-lerz). Story of Vandals and, 49, 280.

  WINTER. Odin supplanted by, 42.

  WODE (wō´da). Same as Frigga, 59.

  WODEN. Same as Odin, 23, 30, 45.

  WODEN’S DAY. Same as Wednesday, 45.

  WOOD MAIDENS. Elves known as, 223.

  WUOTAN (wō´tan). Same as Odin, 23, 59.

  WURD (wo͝ord). Same as Urd, 155.

  WYRD (wērd). Mother of Norns, 148, 149.


  YDALIR (ē-däl´ir). Abode of Uller, 131.

  YGGDRASIL (ig´drȧ-sil). Creation of, 19;
    stags pasture on, 20;
    assembly under, 21;
    spear from, 37;
    Odin hangs from, 39;
    Thor goes to, 62;
    Idun falls from, 105;
    Bifröst reaches to, 137;
    Giallar-horn hung on, 138;
    Norns dwell under, 154;
    Nidhug eats, 169, 265;
    consumed, 269;
    comparison, 283.

  YMIR (ē´mir). Giant of fire and ice, 11;
    sleep of, 12;
    death of, 12, 210;
    earth created from, 13;
    dwarfs from, 17, 217, 277;
    Fornjotnr same as, 199, 212;
    comparisons, 275, 277.

  YOUNGER EDDA. Gylfi’s delusion described in the, 44.

  YULE. Month and festival of, 118, 119.

  YULE LOG, 121.

  YULE-TIDE, 82, 99.


  ZEPHYRUS (zef´i-rus). Frey like, 284.

  ZEUS (zūs). Northern equivalents for, 280.

  ZIU (zū). Same as Tyr, 84.

  ZIUSBURG (zūz´berg). Same as Augsburg, 84.




Transcriber’s Notes


Punctuation, hyphenation, and spelling were made consistent when a
predominant preference was found in the original book; otherwise they
were not changed.

Simple typographical errors were corrected; unbalanced quotation
marks were remedied when the change was obvious, and otherwise left
unbalanced.

Illustrations in this eBook have been positioned between paragraphs
and outside quotations. In versions of this eBook that support
hyperlinks, the page references in the List of Illustrations lead to
the corresponding illustrations.

Printer’s placement designations omitted from illustrations.

The index was not checked for proper alphabetization or correct page
references.

In the Plain Text version of this ebook, o͞o indicates a macron above
oo, o͝o indicates a breve above oo, and y̆ indicates a breve above
y. These diacritics displayed directly above the oo’s and the y in
Browsers, as they did in the original book.