Asgard and the Gods
The Tales and Traditions of Our Northern Ancestors
A gentle breeze was blowing over the rich land of Thrudheim, and the doors of Bilskirnir were standing open that the castle might be filled with the aromatic perfume of the summer flowers. Thor slept quietly in the great hall, until morning dawned and chased away the shades of night. The god then rose from his couch, but his first glance fell on his wife Sif, who looked very sad.
All her golden hair had vanished in the night, and she was standing before him with a bald head, like the earth when the golden corn has been harvested. He guessed who the author of the mischief was, and rushed angrily over the hills and through the groves of Asgard until he came to spiteful Loki, whom he seized by the throat and held till his eyes almost started from his head.
He would not let him go until he promised to obtain another head of hair, the same as the old one, from the dwarfs. As soon as the mischief-maker was free he hastened to Elfheim, and after paying a heavy price, brought away with him not only the hair but also Gungnir, the spear that never failed in its blow; and the ship Skidbladnir, which could sail whatever wind was blowing, and which was so cunningly made, that it could be folded up and put in the pocket when it was no longer wanted. He gave Thor the hair for his wife, and it was no sooner put upon her head than it took root and began to grow apace. To Odin he gave the spear, and to Freyer the ship, that he might go to sea with the merchants' galleys and save shipwrecked persons.
Delighted with the praise his gifts received on all sides, Loki asserted that his smiths, the sons of Iwaldur, were the best workers in metal that had ever lived. Now it happened that the Dwarf Brock was present when he said this, and Brock's brother, Sindri, was generally regarded as the best smith. So he scornfully replied that no one could beat his brother, and that he would wager his head for Sindri's fame. Brock informed his brother of the dreadful bet, but was told to be of good courage; he was given the bellows and desired to keep on blowing the fire without stopping, so that there might be no interruption in the magic work, a circumstance which would at once bring all their efforts to naught. Sindri then put a pig-skin in the fire, and went away to draw the magic circle, and command the assistance of the hidden powers in his labours. Brock, meanwhile, worked hard at the bellows, in spite of the attacks of a fly which continually stung him on the hand till the blood flowed. When Sindri returned there was life in the fire, and he drew out of it the enormous wild boar Gullinbursti, with golden bristles, the radiance of which made the dark smithy as light as day.
The second work of art had now to be made. Sindri laid some red gold in the furnace, and Brock blew the bellows in spite of the cruel stings of the fly, until at last the ring Draupnir was formed, from which eight other rings exactly similar dropped every ninth night.
Lastly, the smith threw a bar of iron into the furnace, and desired his brother to blow steadily. Brock did as he was told, and bore the agony caused by the fly, which he knew cunning Loki had sent. But when all at once it stung him on the eyelid, and the blood ran down into his eye, he dashed his hand at it to crush it. Then the flames rose in the air and suddenly sunk again and were extinguished. Sindri rushed into the hall in terror, but his face brightened when he had looked into the furnace.
"All is well," he said; "it is finished - only the handle is somewhat short."
Then he drew a great battle-hammer out of the furnace, and gave it to his brother, as well as the two other works of art, adding:
"Go now; thou hast won the bet, and thine enemy's head also."
Brock entered the assembly of the Ases, who were sitting in council. He gave Odin the ring Draupnir, and to bright Freyer he gave the boar Gullinbursti, which he said would carry him swift as the wind through mists and clouds, and over mountains and valleys. When Thor received the hammer, and swung it in his right hand, then he, the prince of the Ases, grew tall as a giant; dark clouds piled themselves around his waist; lightning flashed from the clouds, and rolling peals of thunder shook the heights of Asgard and Midgard, terrifying both Ases and mortal men. Odin alone, to whom fear was impossible, sat unmoved upon his throne, and said:
"Miölnir is the greatest of treasures, for in the hand of my son it will protect Asgard from every assault of the giants."
So Brock won the wager and Loki's head as well, and he refused to accept anything else in exchange. But the son of Laufey had already taken refuge in flight, so Thor hastened after him, and soon brought him back.
"The head is thine, but not the neck," cried the mischief-maker, as the dwarf raised his sword.
"Then I will sew up thy great mouth," answered Brock, trying to make holes through his opponent's lips; but all in vain, the knife made no impression. So he got his brother's awl, and that did not fail. He sewed up the mouth, and Loki stood in the midst of the laughing Ases unable to speak; yet he soon found means to unfasten the string.
The hair of the earth-goddess, Sif, is the flowers and corn that grow upon the earth. These are cut down in the harvest, and the winter-demon robs the goddess of her hair, and leaves her head quite bald. But the Dwarfs who live under the earth provide her with a fresh supply of hair, and with the help of the Thunder-god punish the, evil-doer.
Alwismal, the Song of Alwis. - Alwis, the King of the Dwarfs, who had travelled throughout the nine worlds and had learnt all the languages and wisdom of the dwellers therein, once went to Asgard. He met with a friendly reception there, for all the Ases knew about his palace which shone with gold and precious stones, and of his widely extended power over the underground people. He saw beautiful Thrud, Asathor's strong daughter, fell in love with her, and asked for her hand in marriage. The Ases approved of the proposal of the King of the underground treasures, and were of opinion that Thor would be pleased with the arrangement. So the marriage day was fixed. But Thor came home before the wedding-day, and was very wroth when he was told the news.
"Who art thou, thou pasty-faced fellow?" he asked of the would-be bridegroom;" Hast thou been with the dead? Hast thou arisen from the grave to snatch the living back with thee to thy dismal kingdom? "
Alwis now asked him who he was that pretended to have power over his bride and to be able to prevent the marriage which was already arranged; but when he found that it was Wingthor, Thrud's father, he told him of his possessions and of his wisdom, and entreated him to consent.
Thor, in order to prove him, asked what certain words were in the different languages of men, Ases, Wanes, Jotuns, Elves, and in Helheim.
The Dwarf answered everything right; but lo! day began at that moment to break, and Alwis was touched by a ray of sunlight, whereupon he stiffened into stone, and remained on the heights of Asgard, a monument of Thor's victory.
THOR'S JOURNEY TO UTGARD
The Hrimthurses sent out cold winds from the interior of Jotunheim over the fields of Midgard, so that the tender green shoots were blighted and the harvest spoilt. Thor, therefore, ordered his chariot to be got ready, and hastened away to force the giants to keep within bounds. Loki joined him with flattering speeches, and the Thunderer thought that it might be as well to take him with him, as he knew his way about the wilderness so well.
Thor's goats went so quickly that the travellers reached the bare rocks of the giants' country by the evening.
They saw a lonely farmhouse, and the owner offered them hospitality, but could only give them a poor supper. Thor, therefore, slew his goats and boiled them in a pot. He then invited his host and all his people to join him at supper, but commanded them to throw all the bones on the skins which he had spread out on the floor, and to beware how they broke any.
Cunning Loki whispered to the farmer's son, Thialfi, that he ought to break one of the thigh bones, as the marrow in it was good to eat. Thialfi followed the evil counsel, and found that the marrow was indeed most excellent.
Next morning Thor waved his hammer over the skins and bones, and immediately the goats jumped up, but one of them was lame in the hind leg. The god was very angry, his eyes flashed, his right hand closed round the handle of his hammer, and a thunderclap shook the house to its foundations. The farmer, who had been flung upon his face, begged for mercy, and his wife and children joined him in his entreaties; he offered his son Thialfi and his daughter Röskwa in atonement for the broken thigh-bone.
Then the angry god grew calm, and accepted the expiation offered him; he left his goats and chariot behind and walked on with his companion and the sturdy children of the farmer towards Jotunheim.
They crossed high mountains, and went through deep valleys until they came to a broad sound. When they had crossed the sound, their way led them over a stony country and through a dark wood that seemed as if it would never end. The ground was covered with a grey mist, out of which an iceberg, resembling a corpse-like ghost, here and there reared its head. All was dim and uncertain, as though surrounded by enchantment.
The travellers pursued their journey all day long, Thialfi, the quickest runner in the country, always keeping in front with Thor's travelling bag.
In the evening they reached a strange, roomy inn, in which there was neither inhabitant nor food to be found; yet they lay down to rest, as they felt very hungry.
At midnight a violent earthquake shook the house, but they succeeded in finding a place within the building that seemed to be pore secure than the rest; there Thor's companions took refuge, whilst he, hammer in hand, kept watch by the entrance. Loud sounds of roaring and snorting disturbed the sleep of the travellers. The Prince of the Ases awaited the morning.
When it grew light, he perceived a man of mighty stature, whose snoring had been the cause of all the noise they had heard. He felt very much inclined to bless the snorer's sleep with a goodly blow of his hammer, but at that very moment the giant awoke.
In reply to his question, "Who art thou?" the giant answered that his name was Skrymir, and added that he knew perfectly well that his questioner was Asathor. As he said this, he began to look about for his glove. And how great was the astonishment of the Ase, when he discovered that he and his companions had spent the night in the giant's glove, and that when they had been startled out of their first resting-place, they had taken refuge in the thumb.
Skrymir gave himself no further trouble about the surprise of the strangers, but laid out his breakfast and devoured it, whilst the travellers took some provisions for themselves out of Thor's bag. The giant then tied up all his belongings in a bundle, threw it over his broad back, and walked on before the others through the wood at such a pace that they could hardly follow him. In the evening they took up their quarters for the night under an oak tree, the top of which reached the clouds.
The Jotun gave the travellers the remains of the food in his bundle, because, he said, sleep was more necessary for him than food. The strong Thunderer vainly strove to unfasten the cord tied round the bundle. Enraged by this failure, he pulled his girdle of strength tighter round his waist, and seizing Miölnir with both hands, dealt a terrible blow on the head of the snoring giant, who merely rubbed the place with his hand, and asked whether a leaf had fallen on his head.
At midnight the wood again re-echoed with his snores. Thor now hit the monster again as hard as he could on the crown. The hammer made a deep hole, but Skrymir thought that it was only an acorn that had fallen upon him, and soon began to snore again.
Towards morning the angry Ase dealt a third dreadful blow at the giant; the earth trembled, rocks fell with a horrible crash; the hammer penetrated the giant's skull, so that the end was hidden. Nevertheless, Skrymir rose quietly and said:
"So, thou art awake already, Asathor. Look, some birds, when building their nests, have let a little bit of stick fall on my temple; it is bruised. We must part here; my way lies to the north, and yours to Utgard in the east. You will soon see Utgard-Loki's castle before you. There you will find bigger men than I. Beware lest any of you open your mouths too wide in boastful talk; for if you do, you will get into difficulties."
Skrymir went straight on through the wood, while the others turned in the direction he had pointed out to them.
About noon they came in sight of the giant's castle, which was large and shining as an iceberg. They slipped in between the bars of the postern gate, and entered the royal hall.
There sat Utgard-Loki, Prince of the Thurses, on his throne, and ranged around him on benches were his warriors and courtiers. He stared at the travellers in surprise.
"I know ye well, little people," he cried, in a voice that resembled the rumbling of a falling rock. "I know thee, Asathor, and guess that thou canst do more than thy appearance would justify one in supposing. Now tell me what each of you can do, for no one is allowed to sit down here without showing himself to be good for something."
First of all Loki vaunted his powers in eating.
SKRYMIR ATTACKED BY THOR WHEN ASLEEP
"A good thing to be able to do on a journey," said the King; "for then one can eat enough at one meal to last for eight days. Logi, my cook, shall try with thee which is the better trencherman. We shall see which of you can eat the most."
A large trough was filled with meat, and the two heroes stood one at each end of it, and tried which could devour the fastest. They met in the middle; Loki had eaten one half of the meat, and Logi the other; but as the latter had at the same time disposed of the bones and the trough as well, he walked away from the table proud of his victory.
Thialfi announced that he was swift of foot, and challenged the courtiers to race with him in the lists. A young fellow named Hugin accepted the challenge. He turned back at the goal just as the farmer's son reached it.
"Well run for a stranger, by my beard," growled the Prince of the Thurses; "but now make better speed." However, Thialfi was farther behind at the second turn, and at the third he had full half the course to run when Hugin turned at the goal.
It was now time for Thor to show what he could do. He first said that he could drink a long draught. The Thurse commanded that the horn should be brought that some could empty at one draught, many at two, and the weakest at three. The Ase looked at the horn. It was long, but it was narrow, and he thought he could easily dispose of the contents. Nevertheless, the first draught hardly uncovered the rim, the second very little more, and the third a few inches at most. Much ashamed, he gave back the horn; he could drink no more.
He then spoke of his strength. Utgard-Loki told him to pick up the grey cat which was lying purring at his feet. The hammer-thrower imagined that he could fling the cat up to the ceiling; but his first attempt to lift it only made it arch its back, at the second it arched its back a little more, at the third he raised one paw from the ground; farther than that he could not move it. He heard with rage the scornful laughter with which his fruitless efforts were greeted from the benches. Lightning flashed from his eyes; he challenged the courtiers to wrestle with him in the lists.
"That will go ill with thee," said the King, stroking his beard "try first what thou canst do here against Elli, my old nurse; she has conquered stronger men than a shrimp like thee before now."
The old woman was ready by this time, and seized strong Thor, who exerted all his strength to try and overthrow her. But she stood as immovable as a rock, and used her own strength so well, that he sank upon one knee.
"Enough," cried the Jotun. "Sit down, strangers, and enjoy my hospitality."
On the following morning the king accompanied them as far as the wood.
"Here," he said, "are the borders of my domain, which you should never have crossed had I known more about you. Let me now tell you how I have tricked you. Three times, Asathor, didst thou strike at my head; but I always shoved a mountain between me and thee. Look, dost thou see the marks made by thy hammer, three deep abysses, the last of which reaches down to the Home of the Black-Elves? The cook Logi, who measured his strength against Loki, and who devoured even the bones and the trough, was wild-fire. Hugin, was Thought, whom neither Thialfi nor any other runner could expect to overtake. The drinking horn was connected with the ocean. Thou didst drink so much that every shore was left uncovered, and the people said: 'It is ebb tide.' Thine eyes were blinded when thou didst lift the grey cat, for then thou didst swing the Midgard-snake as high as heaven, and she had nearly wriggled herself free and done irreparable injury. Elli, the nurse, who looked so weak, was old age, which none can withstand when his time has come. Go now, for this is my realm, where I have dominion over the Hrimthurses and their rocky fastnesses. Where I rule, there is no space for men to cultivate the land, yet Asathor might split the mountains and the eternal ice with his thunder."
Thor had already raised his hammer to punish the Jotun for his magic spells, but he had vanished. A bare, stone-strewed wilderness surrounded him and his companions. Columns of mist hovered here and there, out of which Jotuns were peering, now with a smile of scorn and again looking down grimly, now sinking and again rising in the air, so that the travellers did not know what was real and what enchanted. They then set out on their return to Thrudheim.
The natural myth which gave rise to this poem of the Younger Edda is very suitable for our collection. Not even the mighty Ase could make it possible for man to cultivate the soil amongst the great mountains, where rock is piled upon rock, and all are covered with ice and snow. Thialfi is the diligence which must animate the farmer, and his sister Röskwa is the quickness and activity which must attend him.
Duel with Hrungnir.
Thor passed some happy days in his halls of Bilskirnir. His fair wife Sif, who kept the house in good order, was beautiful as the May moon; her artistically-made golden hair grew daily longer, and fell over her neck and shoulders in ringlets. The god had great pleasure in his son Magni, who, although only three years old, was as tall and strong as a man. The Jotuns in the neighbourhood were all quiet, for they did not care to harm the husbandmen's crops. Still, the farmers who lived far away in valleys amid the inhospitable mountains, often called upon the helpful Ase to defend them against the monsters, who sent storms, floods, avalanches and falling rocks, to disturb them in their peaceful labours. Thor then hastened with Miölnir to punish the peace-breakers in the east.
Allfather Odin was away on his travels, now ruling the battles of mortal men, now searching after wisdom, and now wooing the favour of women with loving words. Upon one of these journeys he arrived at the castle of the Mountain-giant, Hrungnir, where he was hospitably received. Whilst they were talking together, the Jotun remarked that Sleipnir was a good horse, but that his own horse, Gullfaxi (golden mane), was better, and that it could leap farther with its four feet than the former with its eight.
"Well," cried Odin, "I will wager my head upon my horse. Catch me if thou canst."
He jumped upon Sleipnir and galloped away, the giant pursuing him with a giant's rage.
Swift as the storm-wind, the Father of the gods galloped on far ahead. Hrungnir was not aware, in his haste, that his golden-maned horse was thundering over the bridge Bifröst until he stopped at the gates of Walhalla. Then the King of the Ases came out to meet him, and in return for his hospitality led him into the hall. To Hrungnir was given the enormous goblet, full of foaming beer, from which Thor was accustomed to drink. In his ill-humour, he emptied it in a few draughts, and asked in his intoxication for more and more.
"Ha!" he exclaimed, "none of you know me yet. I will take Walhalla upon my back and carry it off to Jotunheim. I will throw Asgard into the abyss of Nifelhel, and strangle you all, except Freya and Sif, whom I will take home with me. I will empty all your beer barrels to the sediment. Bring me what you have. Freya shall be my cup-bearer."
The trembling goddess poured him out a bumper, but the other Ases called aloud for Thor.
The god appeared in the hall with the speed of the lightning that flashes down from the sky.
"Who has permitted the Thurse to sit down in holy Asgard?"
he demanded in a voice of thunder. "Why does Freya give him the drinking-horn? His head shall be broken in punishment for this."
And as he said these words, his eyes sparkled and his hand closed round the shaft of his hammer.
Then Hrungnir immediately at once became sober. He stammered out that Odin had invited him to the feast, and that it would be dishonourable of Thor to attack an unarmed man. Yet he would be ready to fight with him at Griottunagard (rollingstone, or also rock-wall) in the borders of Jotunheim.
The Ase could not withdraw from this challenge, and the Jotun made all the haste he could to reach home with a whole skin.
Everywhere and in all countries the coming duel was talked about. The Jotuns knew that their best fighting man was going to venture on a dangerous undertaking. They consulted together how they might ensure him the victory.
They made a clay man nine miles high and three miles across the chest, Möckerkalfi (Mist-wader) by name, who was to help their hero in the fight, but who had only a trembling mare's heart in his breast. The Jotun himself had a triangular heart of stone, and his skull was also of stone, and his shield and his club too.
Hrungnir and his clay squire awaited Thor at Griottunagard on the appointed day. The Ase did not waste time. He drove up in the midst of rolling thunder and flashing lightning, surrounded by clouds. His quick-footed servant, Thialfi, ran on before him, and called out to the Jotun that he was mistaken in holding his shield before him, for the god would come up out of the ground to attack him.
Then Hrungnir flung his shield under his feet and seized his club in both hand, to be in readiness to throw it, or to hit out with it. He now perceived the Ase swinging Miölnir, so he threw his club at him with fearful strength. The weapons crashed together in the middle of the lists; but the force of the hammer was so great that it splintered the club and broke the stone-head of the giant in pieces, felling him almost dead to the ground. Meanwhile a splinter from the club had penetrated Thor's forehead, so that he also fell, and as it happened, right under the leg of the falling giant. Sturdy Thialfi had in the meantime despatched the clay giant with a spade, and had broken him up into the clay from which he had been made. He now tried to help his master, but could not lift the giant's leg. Other Ases tried also, until at length the strong boy Magni came up. And he pushed aside the heavy weight as though it were a mere trifle, saying:
"What a pity it is, Father, that I did not come sooner; I could have broken that fellow's stone head with my fist."
"Thou wilt be a strong man," said Thor; "and thou shalt have the good horse Gullfaxi as a reward for helping me."
He then strove to pull the stone splinter out of his brow, but could neither move it nor could he even loosen it, so he was forced to drive home to Thrudheim with an aching head.
Loving Sif and anxious Thrud vainly endeavoured to alleviate the pain Thor was enduring. The prophetess Groa (green-making) now came to the house. She could move rocks with her magic spells, and also stop the course of wild floods. She offered to cure Thor. Then she drew her circles and sang her wondrous songs. The stone began already to shake and grow looser, and the wounded Ase hoped for a speedy cure. In order to give Groa pleasure, he told her, while she murmured her spells, that he had waded across the ice-stream Eliwagar, carrying her husband, Örwandil, on his back, and had broken off one of Örwandil's frost-bitten toes, which he had flung up into the sky, where it was now shining like a star.
"And now," he said, "he is on his way home to thee."
Scarcely were the words out of his mouth, when Groa sprang up joyfully, forgetting all about her magic spells. And so the splinter remained in Thor's forehead.
According to the poet Uhland, this is a poetical description of the splitting of the rocks by the crashing hammer of the god. Thialfi, the diligent husbandman, conquered the clay giant, the uncultivated ground, while Thor made agriculture possible among the rocks. He was hurt by the falling stones when doing this. Groa (the green-making), the sprouting power in plants, was married to Örwandil (living seed), whom Thor carried on his shoulders through the wintry ice-streams Eliwagar. Mannhardt looks upon Örwandil as lightning sparks. We refrain from noticing further the different interpretations put upon the story. The skald found the natural myth, touched the strings of his harp and sang his song with all his heart, careless whether he gave the old myth in all its particulars or not.
Journey to Hymir.
In this myth the terrors of the polar regions are described. It was in that northern realm that the Frost-giant Hymir (the dusk-maker) ruled, and in his house lived the golden, white-browed goddess of light, who had been stolen from her home, and also the nine-hundred headed grandmother, the mountains of ice and snow.
Hymir was guardian of the great brewing vat, whose depth might be counted by miles; by this was probably meant the Arctic Ocean, through which the summer god, Thor, opened a passage for seafaring men. Thor conquered the terrors of the Arctic climate before which even the bold Wikings drew back appalled, while in our days, brave North Pole voyagers face them undauntedly.
Thus Uhland explains the myth, and we feel inclined to agree with him; nevertheless, this journey to Hymir is said by other commentators to mean a descent into the Under-world. Perhaps both explanations are admissible, for all nature is dead in winter, buried under a pall of snow, and the ideas of winter and death are frequently interchangeable. Strong Thor, therefore, descended into the Under-world, conquered its terrors, as he did those of the Hrimthurses, and returned home victorious, in like manner as Herakles did in the Greek myth, which ascribes to him a heroic deed of the same kind as this.
THOR'S JOURNEY TO THRYMHEIM TO GET BACK HIS HAMMER
Night with her starry diadem had spread her mantle over Asgard. Every creature was asleep; the Ases in their golden chambers, and the Einheriar stretched out on the benches of Walhalla after a goodly feast on the flesh of Sahrimnir, and many a draught of delicious mead. They dreamt happy dreams of brave deed's and of the joys of victory.
Wingthor alone tossed restlessly about on his cushions of down. He heard in his dreams the murmur of wicked runes, and saw a gigantic hand seize hold of Miölnir. At length he was awakened by hollow peals of thunder. He snatched at the hammer which always lay by his bedside, but could not find it. Angrily he sprang to his feet and felt about for it; but it was gone; the faint light of morning showed that the place where he had laid it was empty. He shook his head wrathfully and his eyes flashed fire. His beard grew redder than ever, and the, house trembled at his shout:
"Miölnir is gone; it has been stolen by enchantment."
Loki heard his cry, and said to him:
"I will get thee back thy hammer, whoever has stolen it, if Freya will lend me her Falcon-dress."
So they went to Folkwang and entered the presence of Freya. They addressed her in courteous words, and asked her to lend them her feather-garment, that they might spy out who had stolen Miölnir.
And the gentle goddess answered: "You may have it. I would lend it to you willingly, even if it were made of silver or gold."
She then took the dress out of a chest and gave it to the Ases. And now Loki flew with rhythmic strokes of his wings, high above the precincts of Asgard and the swift river Ifing, until he reached the barren mountains of Jotunheim.
Thrym, a prince of the Thurses, was sitting there on a hill. He was decorating his dogs, that ran quickly as the wind, with golden ribbons, and making the manes of his fiery horses shine.
"What news dost thou bring from Asgard, that thou comest alone to Thrymheini?" he called out to the new-comer: "how goes it with the Ases and how with the Elves?"
"Badly with both Ases and Elves," answered Loki, "for Miölnir is lost. Speak, hast thou hidden it anywhere?"
Then the Thurse laughed, and said: "I have hidden it eight miles deep in a cleft of the earth; and no one shall have it unless he brings me Freya as a bride to my halls."
Enraged at his message, Loki flew back over the Ifing river to Asgard, where Thor awaited him. He gave the message of the wicked Thurse.
Again Thor and Loki went to visit the goddess in her shining hall at Folkwang.
"Up and dress thyself, Freya," said Thor; "put on thy snowy bridal garments, and I will take thee to Thrym, prince of the Thurses."
Then the goddess' anger was kindled at this address, and she started from her throne, making the palace shake to its foundations.
"You may call me mad," she cried, "if ever I follow thee in bridal array to Thrymheim, to the Prince of the Thurses, monster that he is."
Having thus spoken, she dismissed the Ases from her presence without a word of farewell.
The Ases now all assembled on their seats of justice near the fountain of Urd, that they might consult together as to the best means of rescuing the hammer from the power of the Giants.
The first to speak was Heimdal, the god who resembled a Want in wisdom; he said:
"Let Thor himself put on the bridal garments, let a bunch of keys jingle at his waist, let precious stones sparkle upon his neck, let his knees be covered by the petticoats of a woman, and a veil be put before his face.
The Prince of the Ases did not approve of the advice of wise Heimdal. He would, he said, be always called a woman in future, if he ever put on female apparel. But when Loki replied that if he did not get back the hammer the giants would soon come to live in Asgard, he consented to do as the Ases entreated.
Soon afterwards he sat in his chariot dressed as a bride, and Loki, son of Laufey, in the guise of a serving maid, seated himself by his side.
The goats set off; they rushed in wild leaps through Asgard and Midgard; the earth smoked, and rocks and mountains split with loud reports wherever they went.
Thrym was sitting comfortably at the threshold of his hall. He watched his golden-horned cows coming home, he saw his large herds of black bullocks, his stores of gold and precious stones in their iron caskets.
"I have a great store of riches," he said; "the only thing wanting now is that Freya should be my wife. And to-morrow she will enter my halls; so strew the benches my men, and have plenty of food and mead in readiness, for it beseems a spacious hall like mine that the wedding should be a merry one."
Early next morning the visitors arrived, and soon afterwards his bride was sitting beside Thrym, well-veiled, as modesty and custom demanded.
The tables were laden with costly food and wine, which were a pleasure to look at as well as to eat and drink. No one could rival the bride, however. She ate a fat ox in no time, then eight huge salmon, and all the sweet cakes that were made for the women, and in addition she drank two barrels of mead. The Thurse was astonished at her hunger.
"Well," he exclaimed, "I never before saw a bride with such an appetite, nor did I ever see a girl drink mead in such a degree!"
But the serving maid assured him that her mistress had tasted neither bite nor sup for a week, so excited had she been at the thought of her wedding.
The Jotun wished to kiss his bride on hearing this, and raised her veil for the purpose; but at the sight of Freya's flaming eyes, which seemed as though they flashed fire at him, he shrank back to the end of the room.
But the wise maid calmed down his apprehensions. "My lady," she said, "has not slept for a week, and that is the reason her eyes are so fiery."
The gaunt sister of the Thurse now approached the bride to ask for a wedding present.
"Give me," she entreated, "golden rings and a pair of buckles, and thou shalt enjoy my love."
Unmoved by this appeal, the bride sat silent in her wedding array. Then the Prince, intoxicated with love and mead, commanded that the hammer should be brought from its hiding-place, that the marriage might be solemnized in the usual way.
"And then," he added, "place it in the lap of the bride."
It seemed at that moment as though the bride were stifling a laugh beneath her veil, and indeed a ferocious laugh was heard when the Prince's command had been obeyed.
Now the bride rose, and threw off her veil; it was Asathor, terrible to look upon; he raised his bare arm and held Miölnir aloft in his mighty right hand. The walls of the room tottered and cracked, a peal of thunder shook the house and a flash of lightning darted through the hall. Thrym lay stretched on the floor with a broken head; his guests and his servants fell under the blows of the hammer; not even his gaunt sister escaped. The flames made their way out through the roof; and house and hall fell with a loud crash. A smoking heap of ruins alone remained to show the place where the powerful Thrym had ruled.
The spring sun rose; it shone down upon the devastated dwelling, the broken rocks, fallen stones, torn and uprooted soil, and upon the victorious god who had conquered the power of the enemy.
The storm-clouds of anger were gone from Thor's brow. He stood upon the height and gazed at his work of destruction with a gentle and kindly look upon his face. Then he called his children of men to come and instil new life into the destruction, so that farms and dwelling houses, agriculture and commerce, civic order, law and morality should arise and flourish there. And so into this conquered land came farmers and builders, with hatchet, spade, and plough; herdsmen with their cattle and sheep, and mighty hunters to keep down the numbers of bears and wolves. And Thor was in the midst of them, setting up stones to mark the boundaries, consecrating the tilled land with his hammer; then the grateful people erected an altar to him, made a great feast in his honour, and promised him the first-fruits of their labour. After that Thor got into his chariot, followed by Loki, and together they returned to Asgard rejoicing in what they had done.
We have pointed here to the natural myth which lies at the foundation of this poem. The myth is one of the most beautiful in the Elder Edda. The poet has made free use of the materials that were at his disposal, so that the most minute details of the primitive myth can never be discovered; yet the following can be made out with certainty.
The beneficent Thunder god, who ruled over summer, was deprived of his hammer in the winter; Thrym (Thunder) hid it eight miles deep in the ground, i.e., for eight months. He desired to have possession of Freya, the fair goddess of spring, in order that he might deprive man of the bright weather she brought with her. But Thor regained his hammer, and slew the Frost-giant and his followers, and his gaunt sister too, who according to Uhland was the famine that haunts rude mountain districts. Thus the god opened a new field to human industry.
JOURNEY TO GEIRÖD'S-GARD
Loki once took Frigg's falcon-dress; he wrapped himself in it and hovered over many an abyss and broad stream until lie had flown right above the barren rocks and ice of Jotunheim. He saw a chimney in the distance, out of which fire and smoke were issuing. Quickly he flew there, and perceived that the chimney belonged to a rambling grange.
This was Geiröd's-Gard, where Prince Geiröd, the Hrimthurse, dwelt with his people. The Ase was curious to know what was going on in the large hall, and fluttered down close to the window. But the Thurse caught sight of the falcon, and sent a servant out to catch it. Loki amused himself by making the man climb the high railing above which he fluttered, taking care to keep, as he thought, just out of reach; but suddenly he was caught by the leg and given to the giant.
"This is a strange-looking bird," said Geiröd, staring into the falcon's eyes as though he thought he could thus discover its character. "Tell me," he asked, addressing it, "whence thou comest, and what thou really art?"
But the bird remained silent and motionless.
So the Prince determined to tame him through hunger, and locking him up in a chest left him there for three months without food.
When he was taken out at the end of that time, Loki told who he was and begged to be set free.
At this the Thurse laughed so loud that he shook the hall and the whole grange.
"At length," he exclaimed, "I have got what I have long desired, a hostage of the Ases. I will not let thee go until thou hast sworn a holy oath to bring me Thor, the Giant-killer, without his hammer and girdle of strength, that I may fight him hand to hand. I expect that I shall conquer him as easily as I would a boy, and then I shall send him down to Hel's dark realm."
Loki promised with a holy oath to do as the giant bade, and flew quickly away.
When the cunning Ase had recovered from his fatigue, he remembered his oath. He told strong Thor that Geiröd had received him most hospitably, and that he had expressed a great wish to see the unconquerable protector of Asgard face to face, but without the terrible signs of his power, of which he was much afraid. Loki went on to say that there were strange things to be seen at the giant's house which were not to be seen elsewhere. Thor listened to the tempter, and at once set out on his journey, accompanied by Loki.
On his way to Geiröd's-Gard he met the giantess Grid, by whom Odin had once had a son named Widar, the silent. She told him what the true character of Geiröd was, and lent him her girdle of strength, and her staff and iron glove as a defence against the giant.
The day after this, he and Loki reached the broad river Wimur, which stretched out before them like a sea, and was so wide that the other shore was invisible. When Thor began to wade across, steadying himself by means of his staff, the water rose, and the waves beat wildly against his shoulders.
"Do not rise, Wimur," he cried, "for I must wade over to the giant's house."
Then he saw Geiröd's daughter, Gialp, standing in the cleft of a rock and making the water rise. He forced her to flee by throwing a great stone at her, and afterwards got safely over to the other bank, which he managed to climb, swinging himself up by means of a service tree. Loki also got safely over, for he clung to Thor's girdle the whole way.
When the travellers saw the chimney with the fire issuing from it, and the castle high as a mountain just in front of them, they knew that they had got to the end of their journey.
They went into the entrance hall. Thor seated himself wearily upon the only chair that was to be seen. But he soon discovered that it was rising higher and higher, so that he was in danger of being crushed against the ceiling. He pressed the end of his staff against the beams that ran across the top of the hall, and with all his Ase-strength tried to force the chair down again. A terrible crack and a cry of pain told him that he had hurt some living creature in his struggles. Gialp and Greip, Geiröd's daughters, had raised the chair on which he was sitting, and they now lay under it with broken backs, victims of their own cunning.
A monster serving-man now challenged Thor to a fencing bout in the great hall. On entering it the Ase saw with amazement that fires were burning all round the walls, the flames and smoke of which rose through the chimney he had seen before.
Instead of giving him courteous greeting, the Jotun king flung an iron wedge at him, which he had taken red hot out of the furnace with a pair of tongs. But Thor caught it in his iron glove and threw it back with such impetus that it broke through the brazen breastplate and body of the Jotun, and then crashed through the wall, burying itself deep in the earth on the other side of it. Thor looked down on the cowering giant who had at once turned into stone. He set him up as a monument of his victory, and there the petrified monster remained for centuries, reminding succeeding generations of men of the great deeds done by Asathor.
This is said to be another of the natural myths which tell how the beneficent god of summer conquered the destructive tempest with his own weapons; the two daughters are supposed to be personifications of the mountain torrents which caused rivers to overflow.
According to some, however, this legend, like the last one, describes a descent of the god into the Underworld, and there is also a similar one related by Saxo Grammaticus, of which Thorkill is the hero.
But we are of opinion that it is far more likely to have been in the volcanic island of Iceland that Thor was victorious over the demon. The island was known to the skalds, from the descriptions of bold sailors, long before its colonization by the Northmen. Tales of volcanic eruptions and hot springs must have excited the imagination of the poets extremely. Thus perhaps arose the myth of Thor's journey to Geiröd's-gard, in which the god conquers the demon of subterranean fire. This view is supported by the shape of a rock near Haukadal, where, within a circle of 900 feet, are geysers and strocks. The rock is said to resemble a gigantic man cowering down, his body broken in the middle.
THE HARBARD LAY
In this poem Odin acts the part of a ferryman, under the name of Harbard, refuses to row Thor, the god of agriculture, over the river, and sends him on his way with opprobrious words.
The reason was, that Odin was the god of the spirit and the warlike courage which animated the nobles and their retainers. The proud warriors and skalds despised the peaceful peasantry who remained quietly at home, lived upon herrings and oatmeal porridge, and hated the devastation caused by war ; while they, on the contrary, were continually fighting for wealth and glory, and hoped to rise to Odin's halls after death upon the field of battle.
This contempt for the tiller of the soil is clearly shown in the Lay, which makes the protector of agriculture play a very pitiful part. The myth had its rise in later times, when the old faith in the gods and deep reverence for them had already begun to decay.
The bold Wikings did not hesitate to say that they trusted more in their own good swords than in the help of Odin and Asathor. The Lay was perhaps composed at that time, but still, it rested on an older one, in which the myth of agriculture, of the apparent death of Fiörgyn or Jörd, mother of Thor, through the devastation caused by war, and of the renewed life of the Earth-goddess, were more clearly described.
IRMIN
As we have before remarked, the Prince of the Ases was worshipped as one of the holy ones by the Teutonic race; it is probable that he was also adored under the name of Irmin, and that the different Irmin-columns were dedicated to him. But Irmin means universal, and it was to the universal, omnipotent god that the Irmin-columns were erected. It was he who helped the Teutons to victory in their battles against the Romans; for this reason the celebrated Irmin-column, which was destroyed nearly 800 years later by Charlemagne, was set up in his honour at Osning (in the Teutoburg Forest). It also reminds us of the hero Armin, who was held in great reverence, and whose name and character were in process of time confounded with those of the god.
Irmin was also supposed to be identical with the mythical hero Iring, who, when the Franks and the Saxons were fighting against the Thuringians, traitorously slew his lord, Irminfried, and then killed the false-hearted ruler of the Franks. After this he cut his way through the ranks of the enemy, sword in hand, and did many other heroic deeds. If this hero was the same as Irmin, he was very different from Thor, whose nature in all the myths regarding him was always true-hearted, and never cunning. But the legend also makes out the traitor to have been different from the god, for, after their victory, the Saxons erected a pillar to Irmin, and not to the Thuringian Iring.
Irmin was the common god of many tribes, and some philologists derive the name "German" from him. He was the guardian deity of the Thuringians, Katti, and Cherusci, and showered down his blessings upon them as he drove over the firmament of heaven in the Irmin-wain (Great Bear or Charles' Wain). The Milky-way, Iring or Irmin-road, the way of souls, was also sacred to him, and thus he was the ruler of souls, and identical with Aryama, the national god of all the Aryan races in the oldest times. The Kelts worshipped the same god under the names of Erimon and Erin, whence Ireland and the Irish are called after him.
CHAINING OF THE FENRIS WOLF
The chariot in which he drove through the heavens showed his relationship to Thor according to the oldest ideas; but still Odin, the Leader of souls, had much in common with him. Tyr, the ancient god of heaven, the sword-god, was, however, yet more nearly kin to him, because he was depicted in warlike array, and because the monuments of victory, the Irmin-columns, were called after him. Several places have also derived their names from him.
TYR OR ZIO
Who is there, who, after a hard day's work, has not rejoiced to see the approach of quiet Mother Night, when, wrapped in her starry mantle, she brings back peace to the world which has been robbed of it by restless Day?
This feeling of peace has often been destroyed by a sound that has something mysterious and strange about it. It is only the long-drawn howl of a dog, a sound that is heard most frequently when the moon is shining brightly; but it has something gruesome in it, and this accounts for the popular belief that it betokens the death of the person who hears it.
A circumstance of this kind happened once upon a time within the holy precincts of Asgard.
Mani (the moon) was following Mother Night merrily in his chariot, when suddenly he started and his happy face became clouded, for out of a great abyss there arose a howling noise which quickly swelled to a dreadful roar, so that the whole earth trembled as after a peal of thunder.
The Ases were awakened by it, and the Einheriar snatched at their weapons, for they thought that Ragnarok had come. Amongst them stood Tyr, tall and slender as a pine, and unmoved by the terrors that they had expected.
"Fenris," he said, "has been wakened by the moon, and wants something to eat; I will go and feed him."
Then he set out in the night, laden with living and dead animals with which to appease the monster's rapacity. Once more the terrible roar was heard, then it seemed that the monster was quieted; only the cracking and crunching of the bones of the animals he devoured could now be heard.
In the morning the Ases held council as to what was to be done; for the Wolf was slinking about, casting greedy looks at Asgard, as though he were devising how to break into the castles of the gods and carry off the spoil. They saw how gigantic he had grown, and knew that he daily increased in size and strength.
Heimdal pointed at Thor's hammer, and at Gungnir, the death-spear, in Odin's hand; but Allfather said gravely:
"The black blood of the monster may not soil the sacred courts of the gods. A chain must be made, so strong that it cannot be broken; then let him be bound with it, that his rage may be held in check."
The word was spoken, the work must be done. The Ases forged the chain Leuthing as quickly as they could, and took it to the Lyngwi island, where the Wolf, enticed by Tyr, followed them willingly.
The Wolf peacefully allowed himself to be bound, for he knew his own strength. When he was fully chained, he twisted and stretched himself, and the iron-ropes broke in pieces like weak thread.
A second chain, called Droma, much stronger than the first, was made, and he bore it for a moment; then he shook himself violently, and it fell clattering to the ground, broken to pieces.
The Ases stood round him silent and not knowing what to do, while Fenris increased his strength by devouring the food that had been thrown to him.
Wishfather now sent Skirnir, a young but wise and able servant of Freyer, to the Home of the Black-Elves, to get the Elves, who were versed in magic lore, and who lived in the bowels of the earth, to make fetters that should bind the Destroyer.
The underground people made a chain, small and slight as a silken thread, which they called Gleipnir. They said that it would grow stronger and stronger the more the prisoner strove to free himself from it.
Skirnir took the chain to the Ases. The All-Devourer resisted, and opened his mighty jaws threatening to swallow up all who tried to bind him; for he guessed that there was magic power concealed in the slight fetters.
Then brave Tyr came forward, petted and stroked the monster, and put his right hand into his jaws. Fenris thought this a sign that no evil was meant, so he allowed the slender chain to be bound around his neck and feet.
When this was done, he stretched himself violently, endeavouring to break his bonds, but they only became the stronger and cut into his skin and flesh. He had already bitten off Tyr's hand, and now he opened his blood-red jaws to seize the god himself and the other Ases too. But they feared the wild beast no longer; they thrust a sharp sword into his gaping mouth till the point penetrated the palate above and prevented him biting.
Then they fastened Gleipnir to two great rocks, that the Wolf might not get away. In vain the monster howled day and night while the blood ran down between his jaws and collected in the river Wan; he could not break his bonds.
Thus is crime, which threatens to corrupt the human race, bound by the apparently slight fetters of law, and as the power of the Wolf was broken by the sword, that of crime is kept under by the awards of justice. When a people no longer heeds the law, and throws aside all civic order, crime frees itself from its fetters, and the nation rushes to its ruin as surely as Gleipnir would be broken in the Twilight of the Gods, as surely as the All-Devourer would become freed from his chains and from the sword.
Tyr was called Tius by the Goths, Tio or Zio by the Anglo-Saxons, and the same by the Suevi, a tribe of whom, the Juthungen, lived beside the Lake of Constance. They were called Ziowari (servants of Zio), because they regarded this god as their guardian deity; the name of their chief town was Ziesburg (now Augsburg). The rune that stands for it, and is called after the god, is the sign of the sword. It bears the names of Tius, Tio, in Old High-German Zio, and besides these, is known as Eor, Erch, Erich, and in old Saxon Er, Eru, Heru or Cheru. These different appellations were all borne by the god, whose worship was so wide-spread.
Moreover the religion of the Suevi acknowledged a goddess Zisu, as is proved from the fragment of a Latin chronicle. She had a temple in Augsburg, and was of a warlike nature; she must therefore have been the female representative of the god Zio or Tyr. This god was the expression in ancient times of the impression that nature as a whole made upon the minds of those who were influenced by her. He was without form, and originally without a name. When the Romans first knew the Germanic race he had already become a personality and was endowed with attributes, for they compared him with their own Mars, and therefore recognised him to be the god of war. Thus he had lost his original signification.
TYR, THE SWORD-GOD
Tyr or Tius, meant brightness, glory, then the shining firmament, and was derived from the same root as the Hindu Djaus, the Greek Zeus, and the Roman Jupiter (Diu-piter, Dies-pater). Rays of sunlight and forked lightning both come from the sky, and were typified in arrows and deadly missiles. In the middle ages arrows were still called rays in German. Hence an arrow became the attribute and also the symbol of the omnipotent god of heaven; in later times a sword took the place of the arrow as it was a stronger weapon in battle. This symbol remained to him in the rune and also in the groves which were dedicated to him. When his place was afterwards given to Wodan and Thor as the ruling gods of heaven, Tyr was looked upon as the god of battles, whose help must be entreated during the fight and whose rune of victory was scratched on the handles and blades of swords while ejaculating the name of the god.
Tyr was held in much less honour in the time of the skalds; he was then regarded as the son of Odin and the god of unnatural warfare that could never be appeased. Odin, the god of the mind, of martial courage and of poetic enthusiasm, had taken his place as the ideal of Kings and brave Jarls. Thor also, the god of the peasant, the benefactor of mankind, helped to force him into the background and gained some of the devotion Tyr had lost.
HERU OR CHERU, SAXNOT
Nearly related to the warlike Tyr, perhaps identical with him, were Heru or Cheru and Saxnot. They were essentially German sword-gods, and were not known to the northern skalds. Their worship was wide-spread; for the Alanes, Quades, Getes and Markomanns paid divine honours to the sword, and even the Scythians, as Herodotus tells us, planted it in a high pyramidal heap of brush-wood, and called upon it as the symbol of the divinity. Many legends are still in existence about it, one of which we give as an example.
Cheru's sword was made in the mysterious smithy of the Dwarfs, whose artistic workmanship was celebrated among Ases and men. The sons of Iwaldi, who had made Odin's spear, and Sindri, who had forged Miölnir, had united their efforts in making the marvellous weapon on which the fate of kings and nations was to hang.
The zealous master-smiths worked busily within the earth, when Sokwabek was built under the flowing river, until at length the shining sword was completed, which Cheru the mighty god received.
This sword shone every morning on the high-place of the sanctuary, sending forth its light afar when dawn arose, like a flame of fire; but one day its place was empty and the rosy light of morning only shone upon the altar from which the god had disappeared.
The priests and nobles sought the advice of the wise woman. This was the inscrutable answer they received.
"The Norns wandered on the ways of night; the moon had hidden his face; they laced the threads, strong and powerful, of gods and men, that none might break. One towards the east, the other towards the west, and one towards the south; the black thread towards the north. They spake to Cheru: 'Go, choose out the ruler, the lord of the earth; give him the two-edged sword to his own hurt.' He has it, he holds it in his hands; but yet Cheru the lord will bring it back after a time."
Startled at this dark oracle, the men begged for an explanation; but the maiden of the tower gave no reply. Meanwhile the story relates the course of events, and throws the only light that is given upon the riddle.
Vitellius, the Roman prefect of the Lower Rhine, was supping past midnight in his house at Cologne, for he liked the pleasures of the table better than all the glory and all the diadems in the world.
When he was told that a stranger, bearing important news from Germany, wanted to speak to him, he rose impatiently. He desired to get rid of him as soon as possible; but when he entered the anteroom, he found himself in the presence of a man of such distinguished appearance, that he could not treat him discourteously.
He would have at once taken him for one of the Immortals, if his self-indulgent life had not long ago destroyed his faith in the religion of his ancestors.
The stranger gave him a sword of beautiful workmanship, and said
"Take this weapon; keep it carefully and use it well, and it will bring thee glory and empire. All hail, Cæsar Augustus!"
The prefect examined the sword; when he looked up, the stranger was gone, and the guard had neither seen him come nor go. He returned to the supper-room and told what had happened. He drew the sword out of its sheath, and it was as though a flash of lightning passed through the room.
Immediately a voice exclaimed, but whether in the room or not, no one could say: "That is the sword of the divine Cæsar! All hail, Vitellius! All hail, Emperor!"
The guests at the supper-table joined in the cry and spread abroad the news; next morning the legions greeted Vitellius as Emperor. Messengers were despatched on horseback to the other provinces, and Fortune seemed to have chosen him as her favourite. His general conquered the army of his opponent, Rome opened her doors to him and the whole East acknowledged his sway.
"It was the sword of the divine Cæsar that made me master of the world," said the Emperor, as he seated himself at table to enjoy the delicacies which had been imported by land and water from distant countries. He ceased to care for the sword; he left it standing in a corner of the peristylium, where a Teutonic soldier of the body-guard found it and took it in exchange for his own clumsy old weapon.
The new possessor of the sword watched the conduct of the Emperor with displeasure, for Vitellius cared for nothing but the pleasures of eating and drinking; he paid no attention to the affairs of the Empire, or to the wants of the soldiers; he took no notice when far away in Asia brave Vespasian had been proclaimed Cæsar by his legions.
The German soldier left the Emperor's service and mixed himself with the idle populace. Meanwhile one misfortune after another befel the gluttonous Emperor. Provinces, generals, armies forsook him; the enemy's troops approached the capital; then Vitellius had recourse to the sword which had before brought him victory; but instead of it he found only an old and useless weapon.
Now all his courage forsook him; he wished to escape, and crept away to bury himself in a corner of the palace. The populace tore him from his hiding-place, dragged him through the streets, and when he reached the foot of the Capitol, the German soldier stabbed him to death with the sword of Cheru or of the divine Cæsar. In this manner was the prophecy of the wise woman fulfilled: "to his own hurt."
Afterwards the German soldier left Rome and went to Pannonia, where be re-entered the Roman service. He fought in many battles and was victorious in all, and soon became so famous that he was made centurion, and then tribune. When he grew old and was incapable of further service, he made a hole on the bank of the Danube, hid the good sword in it, and covered it up again with earth. Then he built himself a hut and lived there until his end. On his death-bed, he told the neighbours who had assembled round him, of his battles, and how he had got possession of the sword of Cheru; but he did not betray the place where he had hidden it, yet the saying that whoever should find the sword would become ruler of the world, remained current among the people from generation to generation.
Centuries came and went. The storm of the migration of races swept over the Roman empire; the Germanic races shared the spoil amongst them; the nomads of Asia, the wild Huns, made their way over from the East, like the waves of a sea, in order to have a share in the booty. Attila, or Etzel, raised his blood-besprinkled banner in the desire for land and military fame, but his efforts were fruitless for a long time.
As Attila was once riding with his troopers along the banks of the Danube, he busied himself with framing in his own mind gigantic plans of gaining for himself the empire of the world. He happened to look up and saw a peasant driving a lame cow and carrying a beautifully made sword under his arm. On being questioned, the man replied that his cow had hurt her foot against something sharp that was hidden in the grass, and that when he sought for the cause of the injury he found and dug up the sword.
The king desired that the sword should be brought to him, and drew it out of its sheath with joyful emotion; its bright blade shone fiery red in the evening light and all present stared at it in amazement.
But Attila, holding up the shining weapon in his strong hand, exclaimed:
"It is the sword of the war-god with which I shall conquer the world."
Having said this, he galloped away to the camp, and soon afterwards marched on to battles and victory. Whenever he drew the sword of the war-god the' earth trembled from the east to, the very west.
After his last campaign in Italy he married the beautiful Ildiko, daughter of the King of Burgundy whom he had slain. The youthful bride adorned herself unwillingly for the wedding she hated.
An old woman came to her secretly, and gave her the sword with which to revenge her father's death.
At length the king entered the bridal chamber in a state of intoxication and threw himself upon his couch. Ildiko now drew the weapon from under her dress and stabbed him to the heart with its sharp blade.
The rule of the Huns came to an end with the death of Attila, and the Germanic races chased these hordes back to the steppes whence they came; but tradition does not inform us whether these later deeds of war were done with the help of the miraculous sword. Yet it tells us of many strange things performed by means of it in the middle ages, and of how Duke Alba buried it in the earth after the battle of Mühlberg.
HEIMDAL (RIGER)
Once upon a time, when there was peace in the worlds, Riger arose and set out to visit his children of men, to see how they lived and what they did.
He walked along the green road, and arrived at last at a badly built house with a low roof. On the wooden bench beside the hearth were seated a man and his wife.
Ai and Edda (great-grandfather and great-grandmother) were their names, and they were very poorly clad. Riger addressed them kindly, seated himself between them, and ate with them of their coarse bran cakes, and their porridge in earthenware dishes.
The Ase remained in the cottage for three days and three nights, giving good counsel to them, and then went on from the sea-sand to the better ground for cultivation.
Nine moons after his departure a little boy was born to Ai and Edda, whose skin was of a dark colour and whose forehead was low. His parents called the lad Thrali. He grew and flourished, and soon learnt to use his strength, He tied up bundles with his muscular arms, and carried heavy weights upon his back all day long.
When he had grown to man's estate, he married a girl with black feet and sunburnt hands, called Thyr, who worked with the greatest diligence. From them are descended the race of Thralls.
Meanwhile Riger pursued his journey. He came to a roomy, well-built house in the middle of a cultivated field. There lie found Afi and Amma (grandfather and grandmother) neatly dressed and working busily. The husband was making a loom, and the wife was spinning snowy linen thread on her wheel. A pot of good food was bubbling on the fire. Amma soon filled the plates, and at the same time gave her guest a cup of foaming beer as was the custom of the free-born farmer. Riger gave them much good advice regarding the management of house and land; and after remaining with them for three days and three nights, he set out again along the road which ran through shady groves and across green meadows.
Nine moons passed, and then came a happy time, for a little boy was born to the great delight of his parents. He was called Karl (lad), and grew and flourished; rosy were his cheeks, and bright and clear his eyes.
The boy soon learnt to drive the plough, to yoke the oxen and make carts in the same way as his father. In course of time he married Snor (cord), who was rich in keys and wore finely-woven dresses; and he brought her home to his new house. Sons and daughters were born of this marriage; all grew up active, merry, and free, and dwelt upon their own land.
Meanwhile Riger walked on through beautiful fields and blooming gardens up to the manor house on the top of a sloping hill. The door with its shining handle was not locked, so lie entered the richly furnished hall. The floors were carpeted, and the father and mother were sitting on cushions, dressed in silken garments and playing with delicate toys.
Then the master of the house tried his bow, made arrows and whetted his sword, while his wife came out to watch him in a blue dress with a long train, and with a kerchief crossed over her white neck and shoulders.
Riger seated himself between them. He knew how to advise them for the glory and weal of their house.
Afterwards the lady spread the table with a beflowered linen cloth; she brought in well-cooked dishes of game and poultry, and filled the golden beakers and jugs with sparkling wine. They drank and talked till night-fall, and then Riger was shown his comfortable bed.
He remained with his hosts for three days and three nights, and then went away to continue his journey.
Nine moons passed, and a son was born in the manor house, fair-haired, with beautiful rosy cheeks and eyes like shining stars.
He was called Jarl; he grew and flourished, learnt to draw the sword, to throw the spear, to bend the bow, to carry the shield, to ride the horse, and to swim across the Sound. The boy learnt even more than this as he grew older, for Riger came to him out of the dark grove, and taught him to understand the runes, inspiring him at the same time to do deeds which should bring him and his house honour and glory.
Then Jarl went out to battle, conquered the enemy, and won for himself renown and booty, castles and land, rewarding his companions in arms generously with golden clasps and rings.
He became a great ruler, but still he felt sad and lonely in his luxurious hall. So he sent messengers to ask for the hand of Lady Erna, the slender-waisted. His offer was accepted, and the noble maiden entered his shining halls where the Earl received her with joy. They grew to love each other and lived together to a good old age.
Sons and daughters came of this marriage, and increased the number of the Jarls. The youngest son, Konur, understood the runes, both of the present and the future, and also the language of birds. Besides this, he was a mighty warrior, and afterwards became the first King of Denmark. This is what the "Rigsmal," a poem of the Edda, teaches us of the beginning of class distinctions.
When Riger (or Heimdal) had finished his labours he mounted his horse, Gulltop (golden-mane), and rode home to Himinbiörg to fulfil his duty as watchman.
He drank sweet mead late each night, for all things in Asgard and without it were sunk in sleep. At midnight he once heard a noise of footsteps, but so faint was the sound that no ear but his could have heard it. It came from Folkwang, where Freya, the goddess of love and beauty, dwelt.
Heimdal cast a penetrating glance in the direction whence the sound came, and saw the sleeping goddess resting upon her couch. She was lying on her side, one arm resting upon her shining necklace, Brisingamen. Loki was standing beside her bed gazing covetously at the ornament. He seemed in doubt as to how he could get possession of it. He murmured magic spells, and lo! he grew visibly smaller and smaller. At last he became a tiny little creature, with bristles and a sharp set of teeth, a creature that thirsts for blood and attacks both gods and men; in the form of a flea he jumped upon the bed, and slipped beneath the sheets; he stung the sleeping goddess in the side so that she turned. The necklace was now free, and the cunning Ase, regaining his natural form, untied the ribbon that fastened it round her neck, and made off with it.
The faithful watchman on the heavenly tower was very wroth with the night-thief. He drew his sharp sword, and, as he had his seven-league boots on, came up with him in a few strides. He struck out at the robber, but his sword only went through a pillar of fire that towered up into the sky in which Loki's form had disappeared.
In a moment Heimdal rose in the shape of a cloud, from which such a torrent of rain descended that it threatened to extinguish the fire.
Loki immediately changed himself into a polar bear, that opened its mouth and drank up the rain. Before he could escape he was attacked by Heimdal as a still larger bear.
Loki fled from the deadly embrace in the form of a seal, but his flight was useless, for he was caught by another larger seal.
The two creatures fought furiously; they bit and scratched each other till the waters were stained with their blood. After a long and fierce struggle, Heimdal was victorious, and Loki slipped out of his torn and mangled seal's skin; but when Heimdal whirled his sword round his head, he begged for mercy and gave up the necklace to his opponent.
Heimdal stood leaning on his sword and holding Brisingamen in his left hand, rejoicing in his victory in spite of the pain his wounds caused him. But Iduna, Bragi's lovely wife, came to him and gave him an apple of eternal youth. As soon as he had tasted it, his wounds were healed and he ceased to suffer pain. He bade the goddess take the necklace back to Freya.
Then he returned to Himinbiörg, mounted his good horse Gulltop and rode down Iring's road, which men now call the Milky Way; immediately the black storm-clouds vanished and the shining stars lighted up the expanse of heaven in the same way that Brisingamen did Asgard's halls, until day came and called up gods and men to their work. For Heimdal is the same as Heimdellinger for Heimdäglinger, he who brought day to the home of the world. His name Riger shows that he was also related to the German Erich, Erk, Heru or Cheru, the sword-god, and consequently to Tyr or Zio. The Edda calls him the Sword-Ase, and makes him wander on the green ways of earth, as Iring did on the Milky Way, which was called after him. Certain roads bore the same name, such as those which ran through England from south to north, and the Irmin-streets in Germany that led to and from the Irmin-columns; thus Riger resembled the universal god, the giver of victory.
Riger's wanderings reminds us of Örwandil, whom Thor carried through the ice-streams Eliwagar. He was identical with the mythical hero Orendel, a son of King Eigel of Treves, whose travels and adventures on every sea have much resemblance to those of Odysseus. It is very doubtful whether these stories were known to the Teutons at the time of Tacitus, as this author mentions that the Hellenic hero had been in Germany, and had founded the town of Asciburgum (Ase-burg). It was rather to the poets of the middle ages that dark rumours of the Odyssee came.
Heimdal was born of nine mothers (the wave-maidens), whose names are taken from waves and cliffs; he was nursed and strengthened by Mother Earth, the cold sea and the rays of the sun; hence lie appears as a god of heaven, raised aloft by the waves of the sea, which afterwards fall to the earth as fruitful rain or dew. This was his position in the natural myth. The skalds made him out to be the watchman of Asgard, to whom was entrusted the care of Bifröst, the rainbow-bridge, that all attacks of the giants might be prevented.