Asgard and the Gods
The Tales and Traditions of Our Northern Ancestors
PART TENTH. THE OTHER ASES
WIDAR
The duel was over, Ases and Einheriar were seated in Walhalla emptying horns of foaming mead. Steps were heard approaching, and Widar came in, receiving a joyful greeting from all.
"Hail, Widar," said Bragi, the divine singer, and Hermodur, the bright herald of the gods, "hail, Widar, thou strong protection, thou help in every time of danger! Receive with this greeting the golden drink which beseems thee."
He thanked them and drank. He looked very grave, and spoke but little. Then Odin made him a sign to approach, and as lie walked up the hall, he looked great and noble in their eyes; his broad sword clanked at his side, and the sound made by the iron shoe on his right foot rang musically through the immeasurable hall.
"Widar, my silent son," said the Father of the gods, "in the time to come thou shalt be Avenger, Victor and Restorer. Come, follow me to the well of Mimir, that we may look into its depths and see what is hidden from gods and men."
And now the god of armies rose and went away followed by Widar the Silent. They crossed the Homes to Mimir's Well. There sat the three Fatal Sisters, and there the swans floated noiselessly on their circling course.
Odin demanded a word of wisdom from the Norns.
Then they answered one after the other:
"Early begun!"
"Further spun."
"One day done!"
And Wurd said in conclusion
"With joy once more won!"
After that the sisters rose and spoke together: "The circling ages roll on and change. Past and Future, passing and beginning again, thus the ends of existence meet. If the Father falls on the field of Wigrid, he reappears in Widar, the Avenger, the Victor, new-born in the halls of blessedness."
When the Norns had finished, the leaves of the World-Tree rustled melodiously, the eagle on its topmost bough sang aloud some song of storm or of victory, flapping its wings the while, and the dragon Nidhögg looked up, and forgot to gnaw the roots of the tree.
Meantime another witness had approached: it was Grid, the Giantess, the mother of Widar, who had lent Thor her girdle gloves and staff of strength when he was about to find the river Wimur on his way to Geiröd's-Gard.
"Happy mother!" said Odin solemnly, "who was once wedded to me, thou also shalt rise again in thy son when the battle has been fought out on the field of Wigrid and Surtur's flames have been extinguished."
All three, their hearts filled with gladness, looked up at Yggdrasil, the holy ash-tree, the leaves of which rustled melodiously, while all creatures around were silent, as though they were listening to some wondrous music which told, not of death, but of eternal change.
Widar went home through the long green grass and bushes that never faded. He soon reached Landwidi, the house hidden in the wood. He ascended his throne, twined with green garlands, and sat there, silent as ever, thinking over the riddle of life. When and how did the immeasurable come into being? Why does it go on? How and when will it end? These are questions which the wise of all ages have puzzled over, and which they have tried to solve in divers ways, but without satisfying themselves, because there are limits set here to the inquiring mind. They only find words which they cannot explain, cannot understand: Eternal, Everlasting, Immeasurable. How grand and glorious it sounds, and yet the finite mind can have no conception of that yawning gulf without beginning and without end! The childlike faith alone, that had its rise with the star of Bethlehem, like the beautiful dawn of a new day, gives peace to the soul that thirsts after truth. For "although everything circles in eternal change, yet even in that change is preserved a quiet mind."
The myth does not inform us whether the silent Ase found a solution to the riddle, for, as we have seen, he was silent as the grave; but he went forth boldly to the battle on the field of Wigrid, trusting to what the Norns and his father had told him. In this god we see an emblem of the inexhaustible power of Nature in making ever new shoots and flowers spring from what had grown old and faded.
HERMODUR THE SWIFT
Odin, king of the Ases, was sitting on Hlidskialf weighing all past and future events. He saw blood flowing, noble blood; but all that was to come to pass looked indistinct and misty, like the sea in a fog, and the Norns had been silent when he questioned them.
His son, Hermodur, the bright herald of the gods, was standing before him, ready to be sent to make known his decrees to the people. The king signed to the Walkyries, who at once brought helmet and coat of mail, spear and shield, and armed the brave warrior for the battle.
"Up, my son," said the king, "saddle the good horse Sleipnir, and ride along the wind-cold roads, over frozen lakes and rivers and mountains, till thou comest to the land of the wild Finns. There in a gloomy dwelling amongst the fens shalt thou find the robber Rosstioph (horse thief), who entices travellers to come to him by magic art, binds them with enchanted bonds, murders them, and, after having robbed them, casts them into the sea. He knows what will happen in future times; force him with the Runic staff to tell thee what will come to pass."
Then Hermodur laid aside his spear and seized Gambantrin, the magic staff, instead. He saddled good Sleipnir, and hastened away to the land of the Finns, where Rosstioph lived in a gloomy dwelling amongst the fens.
The robber saw the storm-compelling rider at a distance. He used his magic arts to induce him to approach, and laid invisible snares for him. Hermodur saw ghost-like airy monsters trying to clutch at him with teeth and claws, but he beat them back with his staff, and Sleipnir leapt over all the magic traps. When the robber attacked him in giant form, Hermodur felled him with his club, and bound him hand and foot with his own cords, tying his throat so tight that he groaned out his readiness to tell what Hermodur wished to know.
So the Ase let him go, and he immediately began his terrible incantations. The sun lost its brightness and hid her face behind dark clouds; the earth shook to her foundations; the storm-wind shrieked, calling to mind now the howling of wolves, and now of the moans and groans of dying men.
"See there," cried the Finn, pointing over at the fen, "the answer to thy question is rising even at this very moment."
The Ase saw a stream of blood flowing that reddened the whole ground. Then a beautiful woman appeared, and afterwards a little boy rose close beside her; he grew in one night, and was armed with a bow and arrows.
"The king of the Ases shall offer his love to Rinda in the land of the Ruthenes, and she shall bear him a son who will avenge his brother's death."
Rosstioph ceased, and Hermodur returned to Allfather and told him all that he had heard and seen.
Hermodur went on many other errands for Odin, and as these errands were often of a warlike nature, he was perhaps regarded as a sword-god; indeed, he was supposed to be connected with the universal god Irmin, or Hermon. Amongst the Anglo-Saxons, on the other hand, he was looked upon as identical with dark Hödur, the Ase who brought the greatest misery upon Asgard.
WALI OR ALI, SKEAF
Wali or Ali was the son of Odin and Rinda, who, as Rosstioph prophesied, should one day avenge the death of Baldur. We shall meet with this god again when we treat of the beautiful poem of Baldur's death, and will therefore merely remark in this place that Rinda means the rind, the hard-frozen crust of the earth, whose favour the god of heaven long woos in vain, in like manner as the cold of winter takes a long time ere it gives way before the warmth of spring, and it is only when summer's magic wand is brought in requisition that the victory is complete. Thus the god tries in vain to teach her that mild weather is the time for warlike deeds. He offers her shining garlands of flowers and golden ears of corn, but all to no purpose. He is at length obliged to use his divine power before he can force her to marry him. Her son is called Wali or Ali in the Edda; according to Saxo, the Danish historian, lie is Bous, or Bui, also Beav, i.e. the peasant, who, after the victory of the god of heaven, comes out of his dark hut and resumes his labour of tilling the earth.
The myth of Wali has, to a considerable extent, passed into the Hero-lays. We will now give one of the tales which owed their origin to this source.
Once upon a time many people were assembled on the seashore in the land of the Angles and not far from Schleswig. They were watching a small vessel sailing over the crested waves towards them. A gentle breeze filled out the white sails, but neither helm nor helmsman, nor yet sailors were to be seen. Bound to the mast-head was a shield, bright as the sun, though not blood-red, which would have betokened the arrival of an enemy.
The little vessel rounded the promontory at the mouth of the harbour as cleverly as though a good pilot had been on board, and made straight for the land. The people now saw a little new-born child lying on a sheaf of corn (Schof, Skeaf) on the deck, with ornaments of gold, silver and precious stones scattered about it. The boy sat up and looked at the surrounding people so lovingly that all with one voice exclaimed:
"He is the child of some god; we will take him and bring him up, and he shall be our king."
They did so, and the boy grew strong and active, soon got the better of his comrades in the lists, learnt to honour the laws and ordinances of the free people who had adopted him, and gained the hearts of all by his wisdom.
When he had grown to be a man, the free people of the land raised him on a war-shield, and said:
"Thou shalt be our king, for we shall be better off under thy rule than were we to remain a republic, and thou shalt be called Skeaf, because thou didst come to us lying upon a sheaf."
The new king governed the land wisely and justly, and the favour of the gods was with him, so that the harvests were plenteous and the country visibly prospered. His judgments filled the people with admiration, whether given in the law-courts or in the assembly; therefore he was loved and honoured as a father. His fame spread over every land, and kings of foreign nations made him umpire in their disputes. No neighbouring people ventured to declare war upon him, nor was any Wiking-raid made upon his coasts. His subjects enjoyed peace and security of life and property.
At length the time came for him to leave the world, and he desired his faithful friends to lay him once more on the sheaf of corn in the little vessel and scatter about him the jewels he had brought with him, that he might return to the place whence he came.
The corpse of the king, its head crowned with flowers, was placed on a sheaf in the little vessel, and all the ornaments he had brought with him were placed about him as before. Then a gentle breeze arose and wafted the ship far away to the Home of the Light-Elves, the land of spirits, from which Skeaf had been sent when a child. Meanwhile his faithful friends stood on the shore for a long time weeping for the loss of their good king, as men always weep when a dear friend leaves them.
Before his departure Skeaf had promised his sorrowing people that he would send his son from the happy home to rule over this kingdom, and, as we learn from Danish and Anglo-Saxon traditions, he kept his word. His son, however, did not come to the Angles, but to the warlike Danes.
BALDUR AND HÖDUR
Baldur was bright and beautiful, and a radiance like that of the sun proceeded from him. The camomile flower was called Baldur's eye-brow, because of its bright purity. Kindness, innocence and righteousness were the qualities by which he was known, and he could win every heart by the eloquence of his words. In his palace, Breidablick, nothing impure, nothing evil could ever take place, nor could any injustice be done. It was a holy house.
The wife of Baldur the Beloved was Nanna, daughter of Nep, according to Uhland, Blossom, daughter of the Bud. She also was the joy of gods and men, and loved her husband ever after his death.
In one tale Nanna was the daughter of King Gewar of Norway, and Hödur was her foster-brother. They were brought up together by Gewar. Once, when returning home from the marriage of his friend King Helgi of Heligoland to Princess Thora of Finnland, Hödur lost his way in a fog, and while trying to find it again, came to the dwelling of three wood-spirits, who greeted him by his name, and gave him a suit of armour, adding that he must beware of Baldur, son of Odin, and that he should first have victory, but should afterwards be defeated.
When he got home lie found that Baldur had seen Nanna, had fallen in love with her, and had asked her hand in marriage. The king had then replied that there could be no real bond between Ases and mortals, and Baldur had gone away threatening vengeance.
On hearing this, Hödur said that he was not afraid of the Ase, and entreated Gewar to give him Nanna to wife. The king answered that he loved his foster-son, but that Baldur was invincible; if, however, Hödur could manage to gain possession of the magic sword of Mimring, the wood-demon, he might marry Nanna, as the odds would not be then so great in the Ase's favour.
After infinite trouble and danger, Hödur succeeded in conquering the Hrimthurse and in carrying off his sword and a wonderful bracelet, the thickness of whose gold increased every night.
The fame of this deed, and of the magic sword and bracelet, spread through every land. Geldar, Duke of Saxony, heard of it, and trusting in his men and ships, set out to try and gain possession of the treasures. Hödur sailed out to sea to meet him in battle array. Before any mischief was done, Geldar hoisted the white shield of peace, as a sign that he wished to treat with the Norwegians. After a short parley, Geldar and Hödur concluded terms of peace, and entered into alliance with each other. While they were feasting together, news came that Baldur was sailing up to give them battle and carry away beautiful Nanna. They hastened to her defence, and on the way were joined by Helgi.
There was a terrible battle, and Mimring's sword flashed like lightning in Hödur's hand. Hödur threw himself into the thick of the fight, and his coat of mail, which had been given him by the wood-spirits, kept him safe and sound. Man after man fell dead under his blows. But the Ases, with strong Thor, were amongst his opponents, and Geldar and many more were slain by them. After a desperate struggle, Hödur succeeded in disarming Thor. No sooner was this the case than terror seized the enemy, and Ases and warriors fled pell-mell. Even Baldur forsook the field in cowardly fashion. Hödur then commanded that a great funeral pile should be erected for friend and foe, but chief of all, he placed the corpse of his faithful brother-in-arms, Geldar, the Duke of Saxony, to whom a grave mound was built. Hödur now pursued his victory and conquered Denmark and Sweden.
According to other versions, Hödur was already King of Denmark, and the battle took place near Roesfild in Zealand, where Baldur's well, Baldur's haven, and Baldur's sound (the Baltic Sea), still remind us of the circumstance. The Danish rhymed chronicle indeed informs us that Baldur was killed here and was buried in the Sound.
We see from this how the myths of Baldur and Hödur have been formed by story-tellers and poets, and if these now given are much more modern in their origin, they still give the battle between summer and winter, in which the god of winter has the victory at the end of autumn.
After this battle Hödur married Nanna, and they spent a happy winter together.
When spring returned, Baldur once more raised his head, and was filled with new courage. He again prepared to fight for the lovely Nanna.
The battle raged night and day, and Hödur got the worst of it, in spite of Mimring's magic sword. He had at length to fly to Jutland and wait there till he had collected a new army.
One day, as he was wandering in a wood, he saw the three woodspirits who had given him the coat of mail. He now recognised them to be Walkyries by their white horses and armour. He reproached them for having prophesied good fortune when he had had evil fortune. But they replied: "First victory, then defeat, was what we promised. But now the time of good fortune is returning to thee. If thou canst only get hold of some of the food which increases thine enemy's Ase strength, thou mayest yet wound his sacred body with. Mimring's sword. Three women wrapped in the garments of night, their heads hidden under dark veils, prepare and bring him this strengthening food."
No sooner had they spoken these words than they and their dwelling vanished from before his eyes.
The hero stood alone in the dark pine-wood; his heart filled with new hope. He went down into the valley and called upon his faithful followers to rally around him, and they came in crowds. He soon found himself at the head of a large army, and when he went to seek out his foe, he found him ready to receive him. Baldur was still dissatisfied in spite of his victory, for he had not gained the lovely Nanna, he had not been able to carry her away, to her natural home the sunny south.
The battle lasted, as before, all day, and only ceased when it was too dark to see to fight. Hödur could not sleep, so he got up in the third night-watch and set out to see what was going on in the enemy's camp. All at once he saw three women dressed in garments of night, and with their faces hidden under dark veils, walking rapidly through the wood. He followed them and entered their house after them. He pretended to be a great skald. A harp was given him and he played marvellous airs. While doing this he watched the women preparing some gruel, and saw how they held snakes over it, making them breathe into it after it was finished.
"That must be the food that increases Baldur's Ase strength," he thought, so he asked for some as payment for his music. The women consulted together; one refused, but the others were of opinion that it could do no harm to give the stranger what he asked, maintaining that it would only make him a better skald than before. They therefore granted his request.
He swallowed the plateful given him as rapidly as possible, and immediately he felt an unusual strength in all his limbs; he felt as if he could have challenged all the Ases to battle, he was so strong.
The women sought vainly to prevent the skald leaving them. He rushed out into the open air and found that a bitterly cold north-wind was blowing. As he was hastening along in the dim grey morning light, he unexpectedly met his deadly enemy. They at once prepared to fight. Each thought only of attack, neither of defence; the one was protected by his coat of mail the other by his divinity; but at length Baldur received a terrible blow on his hip, and Mimring's sword passed through his body. Hödur hastened to the camp, told his people what had happened, and led them on to battle.
Meanwhile, Baldur was only wounded, and not dead as Hödur had supposed. He had himself laid upon a stretcher and carried into the dreadful battle, which raged undecided until night-fall. In the night dark Hel approached his couch. She told him that he should enter her realm on the following day, and that she had a feast ready to greet his arrival. Her prophecy was fulfilled.
Baldur's sorrowing followers buried him with royal honours under a mighty mound, which the gods consecrated and protected by miraculous signs.
Hödur regained possession of his kingdom, but he never returned to his beloved Nanna, for Bous (Bui = peasant), son of Odin and Rinda, took the field against him in the following spring and slew him in the fight, for he had lost the coat of mail given him by the wood-spirits and had vainly sought for the women in the garments of night, to beg them to give him some of their magic food.
We recognise the natural myth of the struggle between light and darkness, summer and winter, in this story. Moreover, Gewar means spring (from war, Latin, ver), and he was the father of Nanna, blossom. In this tale the original signification of the myth had been forgotten. The songs of the Edda regarding Baldur were almost entirely concerned about the death of the god of light and the love his wife bore him, about the changes of the seasons and the coming of Ragnarök.
FORSETI
In the land of the Friesians twelve men, well known for their wisdom and righteousness, were chosen as judges in the olden time. These men, who were called Asegen, i.e. Elders, went about from one district to another throughout the country deciding difficult questions and settling disputes according to the ancient laws and privileges. It was always said that it was from Fosite, Baldur's son, that the Friesians and their first Elders had learnt the laws by which the country was governed. The place where he had taught them these righteous ordinances was an island, which is now known as Heligoland or holy land, whose skippers even yet show their Friesian descent in their muscular and active forms.
According to the northern myth, Forseti was the son of Baldui and Nanna; for righteousness, whose representative Forseti was, proceeds from clearness of judgment and immaculate purity. He used to sit all day long in his hall Glitnir, whose silver roof rests upon golden pillars, and settle all disputes and differences of opinion. As he was only, as it were, an attribute of his father personified, he seems to have vanished with him from the worlds of Ases and men, after which the Wolf's time of power began, and immoral, evil forces gained ever more and more the upper hand, until at length Ragnarök, the judgment of the gods, began and the drama of the northern faith came to a close.