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Saxo (Hist. Dan., 429 ff.) relates that the experienced Captain Thorkil made, at the command of King Gorm, a second journey to the uttermost North, in order to complete the knowledge which was gained on the first journey. That part of the lower world where Loke (by Saxo called Ugartilocus) dwells had not then been seen. This now remained to be done. Like the first time, Thorkil sailed into that sea on which sun and stars never shine, and he kept cruising so long in its darkness that his supply of fuel gave out. The expedition was as a consequence on the point of failing, when a fire was suddenly seen in the distance. Thorkil then entered a boat with a few of his men and rowed thither. In order to find his way back to his ship in the darkness, he had placed in the mast-top a self-luminous precious stone, which he had taken with him on the journey. Guided by the light, Thorkil came to a strand-rock, in which there were narrow “gaps” (fauces), out of which the light came. There was also a door, and Thorkil entered, after requesting his men to remain outside. Thorkil found a grotto. At the fire which was kindled stood two uncommonly tall men, who kept mending the fire. The grotto had an inner door or gate, and that |
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which was seen inside that gate is described by Saxo in almost the same words as those of his former description of the hall at the Nastrands (obsoleti postes, ater situ paries, sordidum tectum, frequens anguibus pavimentum). Thorkil in reality sees the same hall again; he had simply come to it from another side, from the north, where the hall has its door opening toward the strand (nordr horfa dyrr — Völuspa), the pillars of which, according to Saxo’s previous description, are covered with the soot of ages. The soot is now explained by the fire which is kindled in the grotto outside the hall, the grotto forming as it were a vestibule. The two gigantic persons who mend the fire are called by Saxo aquili. In Marcianus Capella, who is Saxo’s model in regard to style and vocabulary, persons of semi-divine rank (hemithei) are mentioned who are called aquili, and who inhabit the same regions as the souls of the dead (lares and larvœ — Marc. Cap., i., ii. Compare P. E, Müller, not., Hist. Dan., pp. 68, 69). Aquilus also has the signification, dark, swarthy, Icel. dökkr. In the northern mythology a particular kind of elves are mentioned — black or swarthy elves, dökkálfar. They dwell under the farthest root of the world-tree, near the northern gate of the lower world (iormungrundar i iodyr nyrdra), and have as their neighbours the Thurses and the unhappy dead (náir — Forspjallsljod, 25). Gylfaginning also (ch. 17) knows of the swarthy elves, at least, that they “dwell down in the earth” (búa nidri í jördu). As to mythic rank, colour, and abode, they therefore correspond with the Roman aquili, and Saxo has forcibly |
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and very correctly employed this Latin word in order to characterise them in an intelligible manner. The two swarthy elves keeping watch outside of the hail of Nastrands ought naturally to have been astonished at seeing a living human being entering their grotto. Saxo makes them receive the unexpected guest in a friendly manner. They greet him, and, when they have learned the purpose of his visit, one of them reproaches him for the rash boldness of his undertaking, but gives him information in regard to the way to Loke, and gives him fire and fuel after he had tested Thorkil’s understanding, and found him to be a wise man. The journey, says the swarthy elf, can be performed in four days’ fast sailing. As appears from the context, the journey is to the east. The traveller then comes to a place where not a blade of grass grows, and over which an even denser darkness broods. The place includes several terrible rocky halls, and in one of them Loke dwells. On the fourth day Thorkil, favoured by a good wind, comes to the goal of his journey. Through the darkness a mass of rock rising from the sea (scopulum inusitatœ molis) is with difficulty discerned, and Thorkil lays to by this rocky island. He and his men put on clothes of skin of a kind that protects against venom, and then walk along the beach at the foot of the rock until they find an entrance. Then they kindle a fire with flint stones, this being an excellent protection against demons; they light torches and crawl in through the narrow opening. Unfortunately Saxo gives but a scanty account of what they saw there. First they came to a cave of torture, which |
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resembled the hall on the Nastrands, at least, in this particular, that there were many serpents and many iron seats or iron benches of the kind described above. A brook of sluggish water is crossed by wading. Another grotto which is not described was passed through, whereupon they entered Loke’s awful prison. He lay there bound hands and feet with immense chains. His hair and beard resembled spears of horn, and had a terrible odour. Thorkil jerked out a hair of his beard to take with him as evidence of what he had seen. As he did this, there was diffused in the cave a pestilential stench; and after Thorkil’s arrival home, it appeared that the beard-hair he had taken home was dangerous to life on account of its odour (Hist. Dan., 433). When Thorkil and his men had passed out of the interior jurisdiction of the rock, they were discovered by flying serpents which had their home on the island (cp. Völuspa — thar saug Nidhöggr, &c., No. 77). The skin clothes protected them against the venom vomited forth. But one of the men who bared his eyes became blind. Another, whose hand came outside of the protecting garments, got it cut off; and a third, who ventured to uncover his head, got the latter separated from his neck by the poison as by a sharp steel instrument. The poem or saga which was Saxo’s authority for this story must have described the rocky island where Loke was put in chains as inhabited by many condemned beings. There are at least three caves of torture, and in one of them there are many iron benches. This is confirmed, as we shall see, by Völuspa. |
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Saxo also says that there was a harbour. From Völuspa we learn that when Ygdrasil trembles at the approach of Ragnarok, the ship of the dead, Nagelfar, lies so that the liberated Loke can go aboard it. That it has long lain moored in its harbour is evident from the fact that, according to Völuspa, it then “becomes loose.” Unknown hands are its builders. The material out of which it is constructed is the nail-parings of dead men (Gylfag., 51 — probably according to some popular tradition). The less regard for religion, the less respect for the dead. But from each person who is left unburied, or is put into his grave without being, when possible, washed, combed, cleaned as to hands and feet, and so cared for that his appearance may be a favourable evidence to the judges at the Thing of the dead in regard to his survivors — from each such person comes building material for the death-ship, which is to carry the hosts of world-destroyers to the great conflict. Much building material is accumulated in the last days — in the “dagger-and-axe age,” when “men no longer respect each other” (Völuspa). Nagelfar is the largest of all ships, larger than Skidbladner (Skidbladner er beztr skipanna . . . en Nagelfar er mest skip — Gylfag., 43). This very fact shows that it is to have a large number of persons on board when it departs from Loke’s rocky island. Völuspa says:
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Here it is expressly stated that “the hosts of Muspel” are on board the ship, Nagelfar, guided by Loke, after it has been “freed from its moorings” and had set sail from the island where Loke and other damned ones were imprisoned. How can this be harmonised with the doctrine based on the authority of Gylfaginning, that the sons of Muspel are inhabitants of the southernmost region of light and warmth, Gylfaginning’s so-called Muspelheim? or with the doctrine that Surt is the protector of the borders of this realm? or that Muspel’s sons proceed under his command to the Ragnarok conflict, and that they consequently must come from the South, which Völuspa also seems to corroborate with the words Surtr ferr sunnan med sviga lœfi? The answer is that the one statement cannot be harmonised with the other, and the question then arises as to which of the two authorities is the authentic one, the heathen poem Völuspa or Gylfaginning, produced in the thirteenth century by a man who had a vague conception of the mythology of our ancestors. Even the most uncritical partisan of Gylfaginning would certainly unhesitatingly decide in favour of Völuspa, provided we had this poem handed down in its pure form from the heathen days. But this is clearly not the case. We therefore need a third witness to decide between the two. Such an one is also actually to be found. |
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In the Norse heathen records the word muspell occurs only twice, viz., in the above-mentioned Völuspa strophe and in Lokasenna, 42, where Frey, who has surrendered his sword of victory, is threatened by Loke with the prospect of defeat and death — er Muspellz synir rida Myrcvith yfir, “when Muspel’s sons ride over Darkwood.” The Myrkwood is mentioned in Volundarkvida (1) as a forest, through which the swan-maids coming from the South flew into the wintry Ulfdales, where one chases bears on skees (snow-shoes) to get food. This is evidently not a forest situated near the primeval fountains of heat and fire. The very arbitrary manner in which the names of the mythical geography is used in the heroic poems, where Myrkwood comes to the surface, does not indicate that this forest was conceived as situated south of Midgard, and there is, as shall be shown below, reason for assuming that Darkwood is another name for the Ironwood famous in mythology; the wood which, according to Völuspa, is situated in the East, and in which Angerboda fosters the children of Loke and Fenrer. One of these, and one of the worst, is the monster Hate, the enemy of the moon mentioned in Völuspa as tungls tiugari, that makes excursions from the Ironwood and “stains the citadels of rulers with blood.” In the Ragnarok conflict Hate takes part and contends with Tyr (Gylfag.), and, doubtless, not only he, but also the whole offspring of the Fenris-wolf fostered in the Ironwood, are on the battlefield in that division which is commanded by Loke their clan-chief. This is also, doubtless, the meaning of the following words in the Völuspa strophe |
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quoted above: “Fifel’s descendants all come with Freke (the wolf), and in company with them is Byleipt’s (or Byleist’s) brother.” As Loke, Byleipt, and Helblinde are mentioned as brothers (Gylfag., 33), no one else can be meant with “Byleipt’s brother” than Loke himself or Helblinde, and more probably the latter, since it has already been stated, that Loke is there as the commander of the forces. Thus it is Muspel’s sons and Loke’s kinsmen in the Ironwood who are gathered around him when the great conflict is at hand. Muspel’s sons accompany the liberated Loke from his rocky isle, and are with him on board Nagelfar. Loke’s first destination is the Ironwood, whither he goes to fetch Angerboda’s children, and thence the journey proceeds “over Myrkwood” to the plain of Vigrid. The statements of Völuspa and Lokasenna illustrate and corroborate each other, and it follows that Völuspa’s statement, claiming that Muspel’s sons come from the East, is original and correct. Gylfaginning treats Muspel as a place, a realm, the original home of fire and heat (Gylfag., 5). Still, there is a lack of positiveness, for the land in question is in the same work called Múspellsheimr (ch. 5) and Múspells heimr (ch. 8), whence we may presume that the author regarded Múspell as meaning both the land of the fire and the fire itself. The true etymology of Múspell was probably as little known in the thirteenth century, when Gylfaginning was written, as it is now. I shall not speak of the several attempts made at conjecturing the definition of the word. They may all be regarded as abortive, mainly, doubtless, for the reason that Gylfaginning’s |
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statements have credulously been assumed as the basis of the investigation. As a word inherited from heathen times, it occurs under the forms mutspelli and muspilli in the Old Saxon poem Heliand and in an Old High German poem on the final judgment, and there it has the meaning of the Lord’s day, the doom of condemnation, or the condemnation. Concerning the meaning which the word had among the heathens of the North, before the time of the authors of Völuspa and Lokasenna, all that can be said with certainty is, that the word in the expression “Muspel’s sons” has had a special reference to mythical beings who are to appear in Ragnarok fighting there as Loke’s allies, that is, on the side of the evil against the good; that these beings were Loke’s fellow-prisoners on the rocky isle where he was chained; and that they accompanied him from there on board Nagelfar to war against the gods. As Gylfaginning makes them accompany Surt coming from the South, this must be the result of a confounding of “Muspel’s sons” with “Surt’s (Suttung’s) sons.” A closer examination ought to have shown that Gylfaginning’s conception of “Muspel’s sons” is immensely at variance with the mythical. Under the influence of Christian ideas they are transformed into a sort of angels of light, who appear in Ragnarok to contend under the command of Surt “to conquer all the idols” (sigra öll godin — Gylfag. 4) and carry out the punishment of the world. While Völuspa makes them come with Loke in the ship Nagelfar, that is, from the terrible rocky isle in the sea over which eternal darkness broods, and while |
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Lokasenna makes them come across the Darkwood, whose name does not suggest any region in the realm of light, Gylfaginning tells us that they are celestial beings. Idols and giants contend with each other on Vigrid’s plains; then the heavens are suddenly rent in twain, and out of it ride in shining squadrons “Muspel’s sons” and Surt, with his flaming sword, at the head of the fylkings. Gylfaginning is careful to keep these noble riders far away from every contact with that mob which Loke leads to the field of battle. It therefore expressly states that they form a fylking by themselves (I thessum gny Klofnar himininn, ok ridu thadan Muspells synir; Surtr ridr fyrstr, &c. . . . enn Muspells synir hafa einir sér fylking, er sá björt mjök — ch. 56). Thus they do not come to assist Loke, but to put an end to both the idols and the mob of giants. The old giant, Surt, who, according to a heathen skald, Eyvind Skaldaspiller, dwells in sökkdalir, in mountain grottos deep under the earth (see about him, No. 89), is in Gylfaginning first made the keeper of the borders of “Muspelheim,” and then the chief of celestial hosts. But this is not the end of his promotion. In the text found in the Upsala Codex, Gylfaginning makes him lord in Gimle, and likewise the king of eternal bliss. After Ragnarok it is said, “there are many good abodes and many bad”; best it is to be in Gimle with Surt (margar ero vistar gothar og margar illar, bezt er at vera a Gimle medr surtr). The name Surt means black. We find that his dark looks did not prevent his promotion, and this has been carried to such a point that a mythologist who honestly believed in Gylfaginning saw in him the Almighty |
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who is to come after the regeneration to equalise and harmonise all discord, and to found holy laws to prevail for ever. Under such circumstances, it may be suggested as a rule of critical caution not to accept unconditionally Gylfaginning’s statement that the world of light and heat which existed before the creation of the world was called Muspel or Muspelheim. In all probability, this is a result of the author’s own reflections. At all events, it is certain that no other record has any knowledge of that name. But that the mythology presumed the existence of such a world follows already from the fact that Urd’s fountain, which gives the warmth of life to the world-tree, must have had its deepest fountain there, just as Hvergelmer has its in the world of primeval cold, and Mimer has his fountain in that wisdom which unites the opposites and makes them work together in a cosmic world. Accordingly, we must distinguish between Múspells megir, Múspells synir, from Surt’s clan-men, who are called Surts œtt, synir Suttunga, Suttungs synir (Skirnismal, 34; Alvissm., 35). We should also remember that Múspell in connection with the words synir and megir hardly can mean a land, a realm, a region. The figure by which the inhabitants of a country are called its sons or descendants never occurs, so far as I know, in the oldest Norse literature. In regard to the names of the points of the compass in the poetic Edda, nordan and austan, it must not be forgotten that the same northern regions in the mythical |
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geography to which various events are referred must have been regarded by the Icelanders as lying to the east from their own northern isle. The Bjarmia ulterior, in whose night-shrouded waters mythical adventurers sought the gates to the lower world, lay in the uttermost North, and might still, from an Icelandic and also from a Norwegian standpoint, be designated as a land in the East. According to the sagas preserved by Saxo, these adventurers sailed into the Arctic Ocean, past the Norwegian coast, and eastward to a mythical Bjarmia, more distant than the real Bjarmaland. They could thus come to the coast where a gate to the lower world was to be found, and to the Nastrands, and if they continued this same course to the East, they could finally get to the rocky isle where Loke lay chained. We have seen that Loke is not alone with Sigyn on that isle where in chains he abides Ragnarok. There were unhappy beings in large numbers with him. As already stated, Saxo speaks of three connected caves of torture there, and the innermost one is Loke’s. Of the one nearest to it, Saxo tells nothing else than that one has to wade across a brook or river in order to get there. Of the bound Fenrer, Loke’s son, it is said that from his mouth runs froth which forms the river Von (Gylfag., 34). In Lokasenna (34) Frey says to the abusive Loke: “A wolf (that is, Fenrer) I see lying at the mouth of the river until the forces of the world come in conflict; if you do not hold your tongue, you, villain, will be chained next to him” (thví nœst — an expression which here should be taken in a local sense, as a definite place is mentioned |
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in the preceding sentence). And as we learn from Völuspa, that Freke (the wolf) is with Loke on board Nagelfar, then these evidences go to show that Loke and his son are chained in the same place. The isle where Fenrer was chained is called in Gylfaginning Lyngvi, and the body of water in which the isle is situated is called Amsvartnir, a suitable name of the sea, over which eternal darkness broods. On the isle, the probably Icelandic author of Völuspa (or its translator or compiler) has imagined a “grove,” whose trees consist of jets of water springing from hot fountains (hvera lundr). The isle is guarded by Garmr, a giant-dog, who is to bark with all its might when the chains of Loke and Fenrer threaten to burst asunder:
According to Grimnersmal, Garm is the foremost of all dogs. The dogs which guard the beautiful Menglod’s citadel are also called Garms (Fjölsvinnsmal). In Gylfaginning, the word is also used in regard to a wolf, Hate Managarm. Gnipahellir means the cave of the precipitous rock. The adventures which Thorkil and his men encountered with the flying serpents, in connection with the watching Hel-dog, show that Lyngvi is the scene of demons of the same kind as those which are found around the Na-gates of Nifelheim. Bound hands and feet with the entrails of a “frost-cold son” (Lokasenna, 49), which, after being placed on |
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his limbs, are transformed into iron chains (Gyfag., 54), Loke lies on a weapon (a hiorvi — Lokasenna, 49), and under him are three flat stones placed on edge, one under his shoulders, one under his loins, and one under his hams (Gylfag., 54). Over him Skade, who is to take revenge for the murder of her father, suspends a serpent in such a manner that the venom drops in the face of the nithing. Sigyn, faithful to her wicked husband, sits sorrowing by his side (Völuspa) and protects him as well as she is able against the venom of the serpent (Postscript to Lokasenna, Gylfag., 54). Fenrer is fettered by the soft, silk-like chain Gleipner, made by the subterranean artist, and brought from the lower world by Hermod. It is the only chain that can hold him, and that cannot be broken before Ragnarok. His jaws are kept wide open with a sword (Gylfag., 35).
We have yet to mention a place in the lower world which is of importance to the naive but, at the same time, perspicuous and imaginative cosmology of Teutonic heathendom. The myth in regard to the place in question is lost, but it has left scattered traces and marks, with the aid of which it is possible to restore its chief outlines. Poems, from the heathen time, speak of two wonderful mills, a larger and a smaller “Grotte”-mill. |
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The larger one is simply immense. The storms and showers which lash the sides of the mountains and cause their disintegration; the breakers of the sea which attack the rocks on the strands, make them hollow, and cast the substance thus scooped out along the coast in the form of sand-banks; the whirlpools and currents of the ocean, and the still more powerful forces that were fancied by antiquity, and which smouldered the more brittle layers of the earth’s solid crust, and scattered them as sand and mould over “the stones of the hall,” in order that the ground might “be overgrown with green herbs” — all this was symbolised by the larger Grotte-mill. And as all symbols, in the same manner as the lightning which becomes Thor’s hammer, in the mythology become epic-pragmatic realities, so this symbol becomes to the imagination a real mill, which operates deep down in the sea and causes the phenomena which it symbolises. This greater mill was also called Grœdir, since its grist is the mould in which vegetation grows. This name was gradually transferred by the poets of the Christian age from the mill, which was grinding beneath the sea, to the sea itself. The lesser Grotte-mill is like the greater one of heathen origin — Egil Skallagrimson mentions it- but it plays a more accidental part, and really belongs to the heroic poems connected with the mythology. Meanwhile, it is akin to the greater. Its stones come from the lower world, and were cast up thence for amusement by young giant-maids to the surface of the earth. A being called Hengikjöptr (the feminine Hengikepta is the name of a |
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giantess — Sn. Edda, i. 551; ii. 471) makes mill-stones out of these subterranean rocks, and presents the mill to King Frode Fridleifson. Fate brings about that the same young giantesses, having gone to Svithiod to help the king warring there, Guthorm (see Nos. 38, 39), are taken prisoners and sold as slaves to King Frode, who makes them turn his Grotte-mill, the stones of which they recognise from their childhood. The giantesses, whose names are Fenja and Menja, grind on the mill gold and safety for King Frode, peace and good-will among men for his kingdom. But when Frode, hardened by greed for gold, refuses them the necessary rest from their toils, they grind fire and death upon him, and give the mill so great speed that the mill-stone breaks into pieces, and the foundation is crushed under its weight. After the introduction of Christianity, the details of the myth concerning the greater, the cosmological mill, were forgotten, and there remained only the memory of the existence of such a mill on the bottom of the sea. The recollection of the lesser Grotte-mill was, on the other hand, at least in part preserved as to its details in a song which continued to flourish, and which was recorded in Skaldskaparmal. Both mills were now regarded as identical, and there sprang up a tradition which explained how they could be so. Contrary to the statements of the song, the tradition narrates that the mill did not break into pieces, but stood whole and perfect, when the curse of the giant-maids on Frode was fulfilled. The night following the day when |
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they had begun to grind misfortune on Frode, there came a sea-king, Mysing, and slew Frode, and took, among other booty, also the Grotte-mill and both the female slaves, and carried them on board his ship. Mysing commanded them to grind salt, and this they continued to do until the following midnight. Then they asked if he had not got enough, but he commanded them to continue grinding, and so they did until the ship shortly afterwards sank. In this manner the tradition explained how the mill came to stand on the bottom of the sea, and there the mill that had belonged to Frode acquired the qualities which originally had belonged to the vast Grotte-mill of the mythology. Skaldskaparmal, which relates this tradition as well as the song, without taking any notice of the discrepancies between them, adds that after Frode’s mill had sunk, “there was produced a whirlpool in the sea, caused by the waters running through the hole in the mill-stone, and from that time the sea is salt.” With distinct consciousness of its symbolic signification, the greater mill is mentioned in a strophe by the skald Snæbjorn (Skaldskap., ch. 25). The strophe appears to have belonged to a poem describing a voyage. “It is said,” we read in this strophe, “that Eyludr’s nine women violently turn the Grotte of the skerry dangerous to man out near the edge of the earth, and that these women long ground Amlode’s lid-grist.” |
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To the epithet Eyludr, and to the meaning of lid- in lid-grist, I shall return below. The strophe says that the mill is in motion out on the edge of the earth, that nine giant-maids turn it (for the lesser Grotte-mill two were more than sufficient), that they had long ground with it, that it belongs to a skerry very dangerous to seafaring men, and that it produces a peculiar grist. The same mill is suggested by an episode in Saxo, where he relates the saga about the Danish prince, Amlethus, who on account of circumstances in his home was compelled to pretend to be insane. Young courtiers, who accompanied him on a walk along the sea-strand, showed him a sand-bank and said that it was meal. The prince said he knew this to be so: he said it was “meal from the mill of the storms” (Hist. Dan., 141). The myth concerning the cosmic Grotte-mill was intimately connected partly with the myth concerning the fate of Ymer and the other primeval giants, and partly with that concerning Hvergelmer’s fountain. Vafthrudnersmal (21) and Grimnersmal (40) tell us that the earth was made out of Ymer’s flesh, the rocks out of his bones, and the sea from his blood. With earth is here meant, as distinguished from rocks, the mould, the sand, which |
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cover the solid ground. Vafthrudnersmal calls Ymer Aurgelmir, Clay-gelmir or Moldgelmer; and Fjölsvinnsmal gives him the epithet Leirbrimir, Clay-brimir, which suggests that his “flesh” was changed into the loose earth, while his bones became rocks. Ymer’s descendants, the primeval giants, Thrudgelmir and Bergelmer perished with him, and the “flesh” of their bodies cast into the primeval sea also became mould. Of this we are assured, so far as Bergelmer is concerned, by strophe 35 in Vafthrudnersmal, which also informs us that Bergelmer was laid under the mill-stone. The mill which ground his “flesh” into mould can be none other than the one grinding under the sea, that is, the cosmic Grotte-mill. When Odin asks the wise giant Vafthrudner how far back he can remember, and which is the oldest event of which he has any knowledge from personal experience, the giant answers: “Countless ages ere the earth was shapen Bergelmer was born. The first thing I remember is when he á var lúdr um lagidr.” This expression was misunderstood by the author of Gylfaginning himself, and the misunderstanding has continued to develop into the theory that Bergelmer was changed into a sort of Noah, who with his household saved himself in an ark when Bur’s sons drowned the primeval giants in the blood of their progenitor. Of such a counterpart to the Biblical account of Noah and his ark our Teutonic mythical fragments have no knowledge whatever. The word lúdr (with radical r) has two meanings: (1) a wind-instrument, a loor, a war-trumpet; (2) the |
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tier of beams, the underlying timbers of a mill, and, in a wider sense, the mill itself. The first meaning, that of war-trumpet, is not found in the songs of the Elder Edda, and upon the whole does not occur in the Old Norse poetry. Heimdal’s war-trumpet is not called lúdr, but horn or hljód. Lúdr in this sense makes its first appearance in the sagas of Christian times, but is never used by the skalds. In spite of this fact the signification may date back to heathen times. But however this may be, lúdr in Vafthrudnersmal does not mean a war-trumpet. The poem can never have meant that Bergelmer was laid on a musical instrument. The other meaning remains to be discussed. Lúdr, partly in its more limited sense of the timbers or beams under the mill, partly in the sense of the subterranean mill in its entirety, and the place where it is found, occurs several times in the poems: in the Grotte-song, in Helge Hund. (ii. 2), and in the above-quoted strophe by Snæbjörn, and also in Grogalder and in Fjölsvinnsmal. If this signification is applied to the passage in Vafthrudnersmall: á var lúdr um lagidr, we get the meaning that Bergelmer was “laid on a mill,” and in fact no other meaning of the passage is possible, unless an entirely new signification is to be arbitrarily invented. But however conspicuous this signification is, and however clear it is that it is the only one applicable in this poem, still it has been overlooked or thrust aside by the mythologists, and for this Gylfaginning is to blame. So far as I know, Vigfusson is the only one who (in his Dictionary, p. 399) makes the passage á lúdr lagidr mean |
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what it actually means, and he remarks that the words must “refer to some ancient lost myth.” The confusion begins, as stated, in Gylfaginning. Its author has had no other authority for his statement than the Vafthrudnersmal strophe in question, which he also cites to corroborate his own words; and we have here one of the many examples found in Gylfaginning showing that its author has neglected to pay much attention to what the passages quoted contain. When Gylfaginning has stated that the frost-giants were drowned in Ymer’s blood, then comes its interpretation of the Vafthrudnersmal strophe, which is as follows: “One escaped with his household: him the giants call Bergelmer. He with his wife betook himself upon his lúdr and remained there, and from them the races of giants are descended” (nema einn komst undan med sinu hyski: thann kalla jötnar Bergelmi; hann fór upp á lúdr sinn ok kona hans, ok helzt thar, ok eru af theim komnar), &c. What Gylfaginning’s author has conceived by the lúdr which he mentions it is difficult to say. That he did not have a boat in mind is in the meantime evident from the expression: hann fór upp á lúdr sinn. It is more reasonable to suppose that his idea was, that Bergelmer himself owned an immense mill, upon whose high timbers he and his household climbed to save themselves from the flood. That the original text says that Bergelmer was laid on the timbers of the mill Gylfaginning pays no attention to. To go upon something and to be laid on something are, however, very different notions. An argument in favour of the wrong interpretation |
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was furnished by the Resenian edition of the Younger Edda (Copenhagen, 1665). There we find the expression fór upp á lúdr sinn “amended” to fór á bát sinn. Thus Bergelmer had secured a boat to sail in; and although more reliable editions of the Younger Edda have been published since from which the boat disappeared, still the mythologists have not had the heart to take the boat away from Bergelmer. On the contrary, they have allowed the boat to grow into a ship, an ark. As already pointed out, Vafthrudnersmal tells us expressly that Bergelmer, Aurgelmer’s grandson, was “laid on a mill” or “on the supporting timbers of a mill.” We may be sure that the myth would not have laid Bergelmer on “a mill” if the intention was not that he was to be ground. The kind of meal thus produced has already been explained. It is the mould and sand which the sea since time’s earliest dawn has cast upon the shores of Midgard, and with which the bays and strands have been filled, to become sooner or later green fields. From Ymer’s flesh the gods created the oldest layer of soil, that which covered the earth the first time the sun shone thereon, and in which the first herbs grew. Ever since the same activity which then took place still continues. After the great mill of the gods transformed the oldest frost-giant into the dust of earth, it has continued to grind the bodies of his descendants between the same stones into the same kind of mould. This is the meaning of Vafthrudner’s words when he says that his memory reaches back to the time when Bergelmer was laid on |
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the mill to be ground. Ymer he does not remember, nor Thrudgelmer, nor the days when these were changed to earth. Of them he knows only by hearsay. But he remembers when the turn came for Bergelmer’s limbs to be subjected to the same fate. “The glorious Midgard” could not be created before its foundations raised by the gods out of the sea were changed to bjód (Völuspa). This is the word (originally bjódr) with which the author of Völuspa chose to express the quality of the fields and the fields themselves, which were raised out of the sea by Bor’s sons, when the great mill had changed the “flesh” of Ymer into mould. Bjód does not mean a bare field or ground, but one that can supply food. Thus it is used in Haustlaung (af breidu bjódi, the place for a spread feast — Skaldskaparmal, ch. 22), and its other meanings (perhaps the more original ones) are that of a board and of a table for food to lie on. When the fields were raised out of Ymer’s blood they were covered with mould, so that, when they got light and warmth from the sun, then the grund became gróin grœnum lauki. The very word mould comes from the Teutonic word mala, to grind (cp. Eng. meal, Latin molere). The development of language and the development of mythology have here, as in so many other instances, gone hand in hand. That the “flesh” of the primeval giants could be ground into fertile mould refers us to the primeval cow Audhumbla by whose milk Ymer was nourished and his flesh formed (Gylfaginning). Thus the cow in the Teutonic mythology is the same as she is in the Iranian, the primeval |
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source of fertility. The mould, out of which the harvests grow, has by transformations developed out of her nourishing liquids. Here, then, we have the explanation of the lidmeldr which the great mill grinds, according to Snæbjorn. Lidmeldr means limb-grist. It is the limbs and joints of the primeval giants, which on Amlode’s mill are transformed into meal. In its character as an institution for the promotion of fertility, and for rendering the fields fit for habitation, the mill is under the care and protection of the Vans. After Njord’s son, Frey, had been fostered in Asgard and had acquired the dignity of lord of the harvests, he was the one who became the master of the great Grotte. It is attended on his behalf by one of his servants, who in the mythology is called Bygver, a name related both to byggja, settle, cultivate, and to bygg, barley, a kind of grain, and by his kinswoman and helpmate Beyla. So important is the calling of Bygver and Beyla that they are permitted to attend the feasts of the gods with their master (Frey). Consequently they are present at the banquet to which Ægir, according to Lokasenna, invited the gods. When Loke uninvited made his appearance there to mix harm in the mead of the gods, and to embitter their pleasure, and when he there taunts Frey, Bygver becomes wroth on his master’s behalf and says:
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Beyla, too, gets her share of Loke’s abuse. The least disgraceful thing he says of her is that she is a deigia (a slave, who has to work at the mill and in the kitchen), and that she is covered with traces of her occupation in dust and dirt. As we see, Loke characterises Bygver as a servant taking charge of the mill under Frey, and Bygver characterises himself as one who grinds, and is able to crush an “evil crow” limb by limb with his mill-stones. As |
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the one who with his mill makes vegetation, and so also bread and malt, possible, he boasts of it as his honour that the gods are able to drink ale at a banquet. Loke blames him because he is not able to divide the food among men. The reproach implies that the distribution of food is in his hands. The mould which comes from the great mill gives different degrees of fertility to different fields, and rewards abundantly or niggardly the toil of the farmer. Loke doubtless alludes to this unequal distribution, else it would be impossible to find any sense in his words. In the poetic Edda we still have another reminiscence of the great mill which is located under the sea, and at the same time in the lower world (see below), and which “grinds mould into food.” It is in a poem, whose skald says that he has seen it on his journey in the lower world. In his description of the “home of torture” in Hades, Solarljod’s Christian author has taken all his materials from the heathen mythological conceptions of the worlds of punishment, though the author treats these materials in accordance with the Christian purpose of his song. When the skald dies, he enters the Hades gate, crosses bloody streams, sits for nine days á norna stóli, is thereupon seated on a horse, and is permitted to make a journey through Mimer’s domain, first to the regions of the happy and then to those of the damned. In Mimer’s realm he sees the “stag of the sun” and Nide’s (Mimer’s) sons, who “quaff the pure mead from Baugregin’s well.” When he approached the borders of the world of the damned, he heard a terrible din, which silenced the winds |
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and stopped the flow of the waters. The mighty din came from a mill. Its stones were wet with blood, but the grist produced was mould, which was to be food. Fickle-wise (svipvisar, heathen) women of dark complexion turned the mill. Their bloody and tortured hearts hung outside of their breasts. The mould which they ground was to feed their husbands. This mill, situated at the entrance of hell, is here represented as one of the agents of torture in the lower world. To a certain extent this is correct even from a heathen standpoint. It was the lot of slave-women to turn the hand-mill. In the heroic poem the giant-maids Fenja and Menja, taken prisoners and made slaves, have to turn Frode’s Grotte. In the mythology “Eylud’s nine women,” thurs-maids, were compelled to keep this vast mechanism in motion, and that this was regarded as a heavy and compulsory task may be assumed without the risk of being mistaken. According to Solarljod, the mill-stones are stained with blood. In the mythology they crush the bodies of the first giants and revolve in Ymer’s blood. It is also in perfect harmony with the mythology that the meal becomes mould, and that the mould serves as food. But the cosmic signification is obliterated in Solarljod, and it seems to be the author’s idea that men who have died in their heathen belief are to eat the mould which women who have died in heathendom industriously grind as food for them. The myth about the greater Grotte, as already indicated, has also been connected with the Hvergelmer |
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myth. Solarljod has correctly stated the location of the mill on the border of the realm of torture. The mythology has located Hvergelmer’s fountain there (see No. 59); and as this vast fountain is the mother of the ocean and of all waters, and the ever open connection between the waters of heaven, of the earth, and of the lower world, then this furnishes the explanation of the apparently conflicting statements, that the mill is situated both in the lower world and at the same time on the bottom of the sea. Of the mill it is said that it is dangerous to men, dangerous to fleets and to crews, and that it causes the maelstrom (svelgr) when the water of the ocean rushes down through the eye of the mill-stone. The same was said of Hvergelmer, that causes ebb and flood and maelstrom, when the water of the world alternately flows into and out of this great source. To judge from all this, the mill has been conceived as so made that its foundation timbers stood on solid ground in the lower world, and thence rose up into the sea, in which the stones resting on this substructure were located. The revolving “eye” of the mill-stone was directly above Hvergelmer, and served as the channel through which the water flowed to and from the great fountain of the world’s waters.
But the colossal mill in the ocean has also served other |
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purposes than that of grinding the nourishing mould from the limbs of the primeval giants. The Teutons, like all people of antiquity, and like most men of the present time, regarded the earth as stationary. And so, too, the lower world (jormungrundr — Forspjallsljod) on which the foundations of the earth rested. Stationary was also that heaven in which the Asas had their citadels, surrounded by a common wall, for the Asgard-bridge, Bifrost, had a solid bridge-head on the southern and another on the northern edge of the lower world, and could not change position in its relation to them. All this part of creation was held together by the immovable roots of the world-tree, or rested on its invisible branches. Sol and Mane had their fixed paths, the points of departure and arrival of which were the “horse-doors” (jódyrr), which were hung on the eastern and western mountain-walls of the lower world. The god Mane and the goddess Sol were thought to traverse these paths in shining chariots, and their daily journeys across the heavens did not to our ancestors imply that any part of the world-structure itself was in motion. Mane’s course lay below Asgard. When Thor in his thunder-chariot descends to Jotunheim the path of Mane thunders under him (en dundi Mána vegr und Meila bródur — Haustl., 1). No definite statement in our mythical records informs us whether the way of the sun was over or under Asgard. But high above Asgard is the starry vault of heaven, and to the Teutons as well as to other people that sky was not only an optical but a real vault, which daily revolved |
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around a stationary point. Sol and Mane might be conceived as traversing their appointed courses independently, and not as coming in contact with vaults, which by their motions from east to west produced the progress of sun and moon. The very circumstance that they continually changed position in their relation to each other and to the stars seemed to prove that they proceeded independently in their own courses. With the countless stars the case was different. They always keep at the same distance and always present the same figures on the canopy of the nocturnal heavens. They looked like glistening heads of nails driven into a movable ceiling. Hence the starlit sky was thought to be in motion. The sailors and shepherds of the Teutons very well knew that this revolving was round a fixed point, the polar star, and it is probable that veraldar nagli, the world-nail, the world-spike, an expression preserved in Eddubrott, ii., designates the north star. Thus the starry sky was the movable part of the universe. And this motion is not of the same kind as that of the winds, whose coming and direction no man can predict or calculate. The motion of the starry firmament is defined, always the same, always in the same direction, and keeps equal step with the march of time itself. It does not, therefore, depend on the accidental pleasure of gods or other powers. On the other hand, it seems to be caused by a mechanism operating evenly and regularly. The mill was for a long time the only kind of mechanism on a large scale known to the Teutons. Its motion was a rotating one. The movable mill-stone was turned |
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by a handle or sweep which was called möndull. The mill-stones and the möndull might be conceived as large as you please. Fancy knew no other limits than those of the universe. There was another natural phenomenon, which also was regular, and which was well known to the seamen of the North and to those Teutons who lived on the shores of the North Sea, namely, the rising and falling of the tide. Did one and the same force produce both these great phenomena? Did the same cause produce the motion of the starry vault and the ebb and flood of the sea? In regard to the latter phenomenon, we already know the naive explanation given in the myth concerning Hvergelmer and the Grotte-mill. And the same explanation sufficed for the former. There was no need of another mechanism to make the heavens revolve, as there was already one at hand, the influence of which could be traced throughout that ocean in which Midgard was simply an isle, and which around this island extends its surface even to the brink of heaven (Gylfaginning). The mythology knew a person by name Mundilföri (Vafthr., 23, Gylfag.). The word mundill is related to möndull, and is presumably only another form of the same word. The name or epithet Mundilfore refers to a being that has had something to do with a great mythical möndull and with the movements of the mechanism which this möndull kept in motion. Now the word möndull is never used in the old Norse literature about any other object than the sweep or handle with which |
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the movable mill-stone is turned. (In this sense the word occurs in the Grotte-song and in Helge Hund. ii, 3, 4). Thus Mundilfore has had some part to play in regard to the great giant-mill of the ocean and of the lower world. Of Mundilfore we learn, on the other hand, that he is the father of the personal Sol and the personal Mane (Vafthr. 23). This, again, shows that the mythology conceived him as intimately associated with the heavens and with the heavenly bodies. Vigfusson (Dict., 437) has, therefore, with good reason remarked that mundill in Mundilfore refers to the veering round or the revolution of the heavens. As the father of Sol and Mane, Mundilfore was a being of divine rank, and as such belonged to the powers of the lower world, where Sol and Mane have their abodes and resting-places. The latter part of the name, föri, refers to the verb fœra, to conduct, to move. Thus he is that power who has to take charge of the revolutions of the starry vault of heaven, and these must be produced by the great möndull, the mill-handle or mill-sweep, since he is called Mundilföri. The regular motion of the starry firmament and of the sea is, accordingly, produced by the same vast mechanism, the Grotte-mill, the meginverk of the heathen fancy (Grotte-song, 11; cp. Egil Skallagrimson’s way of using the word, Arinbj.-Drapa, 26). The handle extends to the edge of the world, and the nine giantesses, who are compelled to turn the mill, pushing the sweep before them, march along the outer edge of the universe. Thus we get an intelligible idea of what Snæbjorn means when |
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he says that Eylud’s nine women turn the Grotte “along the edge of the earth” (hrœra Grotta at fyrir jardar skauti). Mundilfore and Bygver thus each has his task to perform in connection with the same vast machinery. The one attends to the regular motion of the möndull, the other looks after the mill-stones and the grist. In the name Eylud the first part is ey, and the second part is ludr. The name means the “island-mill.” Eylud’s nine women are the “nine women of the island-mill.” The mill is in the same strophe called skerja Grotti, the Grotte of the skerries. These expressions refer to each other and designate with different words the same idea — the mill that grinds islands and skerries. The fate which, according to the Grotte-song, happened to King Frode’s mill has its origin in the myth concerning the greater mill. The stooping position of the starry heavens and the sloping path of the stars in relation to the horizontal line was a problem which in its way the mythology wanted to solve. The phenomenon was put in connection with the mythic traditions in regard to the terrible winter which visited the earth after the gods and the sons of Alvalde (Ivalde) had become enemies. Fenja and Menja were kinswomen of Alvalde’s sons. For they were brothers (half-brothers) of those mountain giants who were Fenja’s and Menja’s fathers (the Grotte-song). Before the feud broke out between their kin and the gods, both the giant-maids had worked in the service of the latter and for the good of the world, grinding the blessings of the golden age on |
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the world-mill. Their activity in connection with the great mechanism, mondul, which they pushed, amid the singing of bliss-bringing songs of sorcery, was a counterpart of the activity of the sons of Alvalde, who made for the gods the treasures of vegetation. When the conflict broke out the giant-maids joined the cause of their kinsmen. They gave the world-mill so rapid a motion that the foundations of the earth trembled, pieces of the mill-stones were broken loose and thrown up into space, and the sub-structure of the mill was damaged. This could not happen without harm to the starry canopy of heaven which rested thereon. The memory of this mythic event comes to the surface in Rimbegla, which states that toward the close of King Frode’s reign there arose a terrible disorder in nature — a storm with mighty thundering passed over the country, the earth quaked and cast up large stones. In the Grotte-song the same event is mentioned as a “game” played by Fenja and Menja, in which they cast up from the deep upon the earth those stones which afterwards became the mill-stones in the Grotte-mill. After that “game” the giant-maids betook themselves to the earth and took part in the first world-war on the side hostile to Odin (see No. 39). It is worthy of notice that the mythology has connected the fimbul-winter and the great emigrations from the North with an earthquake and a damage to the world-mill which makes the starry heavens revolve. |
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Among the tasks to be performed by the world-mill there is yet another of the greatest importance. According to a belief which originated in ancient Aryan times, a fire is to be judged as to purity and holiness by its origin. There are different kinds of fire more or less pure and holy, and a fire which is holy as to its origin may become corrupted by contact with improper elements. The purest fire, that which was originally kindled by the gods and was afterwards given to man as an invaluable blessing, as a bond of union between the higher world and mankind, was a fire which was produced by rubbing two objects together (friction). In hundreds of passages this is corroborated in Rigveda, and the belief still exists among the common people of various Teutonic peoples. The great mill which revolves the starry heavens was also the mighty rubbing machine (friction machine) from which the sacred fire naturally ought to proceed, and really was regarded as having proceeded, as shall be shown below. The word möndull, with which the handle of the mill is designated, is found among our ancient Aryan ancestors. It can be traced back to the ancient Teutonic manthula, a swing-tree (Fick, Wörterb. d. ind.-germ. Spr., iii. 232), |
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related to Sanskrit Manthati, to swing, twist, bore, from the root manth, which occurs in numerous passages in Rigveda, and in its direct application always refers to the production of fire by friction (Bergaigne, Rel. ved., iii. 7). In Rigveda, the sacred fire is personified by the “pure,” upright,” “benevolent” god Agni, whose very name, related to the Latin ignis, designates the god of fire. According to Rigveda, there was a time when Agni lived concealed from both gods and men, as the element of light and warmth found in all beings and things. Then there was a time when he dwelt in person among the gods, but not yet among men; and, finally, there was a time when Mâtaricvan, a sacred being and Agni’s father in a literal or symbolic sense, brought it about that Agni came to our fathers (Rigv., i. 60, 1). The generation of men then living was the race of Bhriguians, so-called after an ancient patriarch Bhrigu. This Bhrigu, and with him Manu (Manus), was the first person who, in his sacrifices to the gods, used the fire obtained through Agni (Rigv., i. 31, 17, and other passages). When, at the instigation of Mâtaricvan, Agni arrived among mankind, he came from a far-off region (Rigv., i. 128, 2). The Bhriguians who did not yet possess the fire, but were longing for it and were seeking for it (Rigv., x. 40, 2), found the newly-arrived Agni “at the confluence of the waters.” In a direct sense, “the confluence of the waters” cannot mean anything else than the ocean, into which all waters flow. Thus Agni came from the distance across a sea to the coast of the country |
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where that people dwelt who were named after the patriarch Bhrigu. When they met this messenger of the gods (Rigv., viii. 19, 21), they adopted him and cared for him at “the place of the water” (Rigv., ii. 4, 2). Mâtaricvan, by whose directions Agni, “the one born on the other side of the atmosphere” (x. 187, 5) was brought to mankind, becomes in the classical Sanskrit language a designation for the wind. Thus everything tends to show that Agni has traversed a wide ocean, and has been brought by the wind when he arrives at the coast where the Bhriguians dwell. He is very young, and hence bears the epithet yavishtha. We are now to see why the gods sent him to men, and what be does among them. He remains among those who care for him, and dwells among them “an immortal among mortals” (Rigv., viii. 60, 11; iii. 5, 3), a guest among men, a companion of mortals (iv. 1, 9). He who came with the inestimable gift of fire long remains personally among men, in order that “a wise one among the ignorant” may educate them. He who “knows all wisdom and all sciences” (Rigv., iii. 1, 17; x. 21, 5) “came to be asked questions” (i. 60, 20) by men; he teaches them and “they listen to him as to a father” (i. 68, 9). He becomes their first patriarch (ii. 10, 1) and their first priest (v. 9, 4; x. 80, 4). Before that time they had lived a nomadic life, but he taught them to establish fixed homes around the hearths, on which the fire he had brought now was burning (iii. 1, 17). He visited them in these fixed dwellings (iv. 1, 19), where the Bhriguians now let the fire blaze (x. 122, 5); he |
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became “the husband of wives” (i. 66, 4) and the progenitor of human descendants (i. 96, 2), through whom he is the founder of the classes or “races” of men (vi. 48, 8). He established order in all human affairs (iv. 1, 2), taught religion, instructed men in praying and sacrificing (vi. 1, 1, and many other passages), initiated them in the art of poetry and gave them inspiration (iii. 10, 5; x. 11, 6). This is related of Agni when he came to the earth and dwelt among men. As to his divine nature, he is the pure, white god (iv. 1, 7; iii. 7, 1), young, strong, and shining with golden teeth (v. 2, 2), and searching eyes (iv. 2, 12) which can see far (vii. 1, 1), penetrate the darkness of night (i. 94, 7), and watch the acts of demons (x. 87, 12). He, the guard of order (i. 11, 8), is always attentive (i. 31, 12), and protects the world by day and by night from dangers (i. 98, 1). On a circular path he observes all beings (vii. 13, 3), and sees and knows them all (x. 187, 4). He perceives everything, being able to penetrate the herbs, and diffuse himself into plants and animals (vii. 9, 3; viii. 43, 9; x. 1, 2). He hears all who pray to him, and can make himself heard as if he had the voice of thunder, so that both the halves of the world re-echo his voice (x. 8, 1). His horses are like himself white (vi. 6, 4). His symbol among the animals is the bull (i. 31, 5; i. 146, 2). In regard to Agni’s birth, it is characteristic of him that he is said to have several mothers, although their number varies according to the point from which the process of birth is regarded. When it is only to be a |
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figurative expression for the origin of the friction-fire, the singer of the hymn can say that Agni had ten mothers or two mothers. In the case of the former, it is the ten fingers of the person producing the friction-fire that are meant. Sometimes this is stated outright (Rigveda, iii. 23, 3); then again the fingers are paraphrased by “the twice five sisters dwelling together” (iv. 6, 8), “the work-master’s ten untiring maids” (i. 95, 1). In the case of the latter — that is, when two mothers are mentioned — the two pieces of wood rubbed together are meant (viii. 49, 15). In a more real sense he is said to have three places of nativity: one in the atmospheric sea, one in heaven, and one in the waters (i. 95, 3), and that his “great, wise, divine nature proceeded from the laps of many active mothers” (i. 95, 4), such as the waters, the stones, the trees, the herbs (ii. 1, 1). In Rigveda (x. 45, 2) nine maternal wombs or births are indicated; his “triple powers were sown in triplets in heaven, among us, and in the waters.” In Rigveda (i. 141, 2) three places of nativity and three births are ascribed to him, and in such a way that he had seven mothers in his second birth. In Rigveda (x. 20, 7) he is called the son of the rock. It scarcely needs to be pointed out that all that is here told about Agni corresponds point by point with the Teutonic myth about Heimdal. Here, as in many other instances, we find a similarity between the Teutonic and the Aryan-Asiatic myths, which is surprising, when we consider that the difference between the Rigveda and Zend languages on the one hand, and the oldest Teutonic linguistic |
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monuments on the other, appear in connection with other circumstances to indicate that the old Aryan unity of language and religion lies ages back in antiquity. Agni’s birth “beyond the atmosphere,” his journey across the sea to original man in the savage state, his vocation as the sower of the blessings of culture among men, his appearance as the teacher of wisdom and “the sciences,” his visit to the farms established by him, where he becomes “the husband of wives,” father of human sons, and the founder of “the races” (the classes among the Teutons), — all this we rediscover completely in the Heimdal myth, as if it were a copy of the Aryan-Asiatic saga concerning the divine founder of culture; a copy fresh from the master’s brush without the effects of time, and without any retouchings. The very names of the ancient Aryan patriarchs, Bhrigu and Manu are recognisable in the Teutonic patriarch names Berchter and Mann (Mannus-Halfdan). In the case of Manu and Mann no explanation is necessary. Here the identity of sound agrees with the identity of origin. The descendants of Bhrigu and of his contemporary Bhriguians, are called Bhargavans, which corroborates the conclusion that Bhrigu is derived from bharg “to shine,” whence is derived the ancient Teutonic berhta, “bright,” “clear,” “light,” the Old Saxon berht, the Anglo-Saxon beorht, which reoccurs in the Teutonic patriarch Berchter, which again is actually (not linguistically) identical with the Norse Borgarr. By Bhrigu’s side stands Manu, just as Mann (Halfdan) is co-ordinate with Borgar. |
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Point by point the descriptions of Agni and Heimdal also correspond in regard to their divine natures and attributes. Agni is the great holy white god; Heimdal is mikill and heilagr, and is called hviti áss (Younger Edda) or “the whitest of the Asas” (Thrymskv., 15). While Agni as the fire-god has golden teeth, Heimdal certainly for the same reason bears the epithet gullintanni, “the one with the golden teeth.” Agni has white horses. In Ulf Uggason’s poem about the work of art in Hjardarholt, Heimdal rides his horse Gulltoppr, whose name reflects its splendour. While Agni’s searching eyes can see in the distance and can penetrate the gloom of night, it is said of Heimdal that hann sér jafnt nótt sem dag hundrad rasta frá sér. While Agni perceives everything, even the inaudible motions in the growing of herbs and animals; while he penetrates and diffuses himself in plants and animals, it is said of Heimdal that he heyrir ok that, er gras vex á jordu eda ull á saudum. While Agni — it is not stated by what means — is able to produce a noise like thunder which re-echoes through both the world-halves, Heimdal has the horn, whose sound all the world shall hear, when Ragnarok is at hand. On a “circular path,” Agni observes the beings in the world. Heimdal looks out upon the world from Bifrost. Agni keeps his eye on the deeds of the demons, is perpetually on the look-out, and protects the world by day and by night from dangers; Heimdal is the watchman of the gods, vördr goda (Grimnersmal), needs in his vocation as watchman less sleep than a bird, and faithfully guards the Asa-bridge against the giants. Agni is born of several |
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mothers; Heimdal has mothers nine. Agni is “the fast traveller,” who, in the human abodes he visits, opens a way for prayer and sacrifice (Rigv., vii. 13, 3); in Rigsthula, Heimdal has the same epithet, “the fast traveller,” röskr Stigandi, as he goes from house to house and teaches men the “runes of eternity” and “the runes of time.” The only discrepancy is in the animal symbols by which Agni and Heimdal are designated. The bull is Agni’s symbol, the ram is Heimdal’s. Both symbols are chosen from the domestic animals armed with horns, and the difference is linguistically of such a kind, that it to some extent may be said to corroborate the evidence in regard to Agni’s and Heimdal’s identity. In the old Norse poetry, Vedr (wether, ram), Heimdali and the Heimdal epithet Hallinskidi, are synonymous. The word vedr, according to Fick (Wörterb., iii. 307), can be traced to an ancient Teutonic vethru, the real meaning of which is “yearling,” a young domestic animal in general, and it is related to the Latin vitulus and the Sanskrit vatsala, “calf.” If this is correct, then we also see the lines along which one originally common symbol of a domestic animal developed into two and among the Rigveda Aryans settled on the “yearling” of the cow, and among the Teutons on that of the sheep. It should here be remarked that according to Ammianus Marcellinus (xix. 1) the tiara of the Persian kings was ornamented with a golden ram’s-head. That Agni’s span of horses were transformed into Heimdal’s riding horse was also a result of time and circumstances. In Rigveda, riding and cavalry |
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are unknown; there the horses of the gods draw the divine chariots. In the Teutonic mythology the draught horses are changed into riding horses, and chariots occur only exceptionally. We have reason to be surprised at finding that the Aryan-Asiatic myths and the Teutonic have so broad surfaces of contact, on which not only the main outlines but even the details completely resemble each other. But the fact is not inexplicable. The hymns, the songs of the divine worship and of the sacrifices of the Rigveda Aryans, have been preserved, but the epic-mythological poems are lost, so that there remains the difficult task of reconstructing out of the former a clear and concise mythology, freed from “dissolving views” in which their mythic characters now blend into each other. The Teutonic mythology has had an opposite fate: here the genuine religious songs, the hymns of divine worship and of sacrifices, are lost, and there remain fragments of the mighty divine epic of the Teutons. But thus we have also been robbed of the opportunity of studying those very songs which in a higher degree than the epic are able to preserve through countless centuries ancient mythical traits; for the hymns belong to the divine worship, popular customs are long-lived, and the sacred customs are more conservative and more enduring than all others, if they are not disturbed by revolutions in the domain of faith. If an epithet of a god, e.g., “the fast traveller,” has once become fixed by hymns and been repeated in the divine service year after year, then, in spite of the gradual transformation of the languages and the types of |
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the race, it may be preserved through hundreds and thousands of years. Details of this kind may in this manner survive the ravages of time just as well as the great outlines of the mythology, and if there be a gradual change as to signification, then this is caused by the change of language, which may make an old expression unintelligible or give it another meaning based on the association of ideas. From all this I am forced to draw the conclusion that Heimdal, like several other Teutonic gods — for example, Odin (Wodan, Rigveda’s Vata) — belongs to the ancient Aryan age, and retained, even to the decay of the Teutonic heathendom his ancient character as the personal representative of the sacred fire, the fire produced by friction, and, in this connection, as the representative of the oldest culture connected with the introduction of fire. This also explains Heimdal’s epithet Vindler, in Cod. Reg. of the Younger Edda (i. 266, 608). The name is a subform of vindill and comes from vinda, to twist or turn, wind, to turn anything around rapidly. As the epithet “the turner” is given to that god who brought friction-fire (bore-fire) to man, and who is himself the personification of this fire, then it must be synonymous with “the borer.” A synonym of Heimdal’s epithet Stigandi, “the traveller,” is Rate, “the traveller,” from rata, “to travel,” “to move about.” Very strangely, this verb (originally vrata, Goth. vrâton, to travel, make a journey) can be traced to an ancient Germanic word which meant to turn or twist, or something of the sort (Fick, Wörterb., iii. 294). |
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And, so far as the noun Rate is concerned, this signification has continued to flourish in the domain of mythology after it long seems to have been extinct in the domain of language. Havamál (106), Grimnersmal (32), and Bragarædur testify each in its own way that the mythical name Rate was connected with a boring activity. In Havamál “Rate’s mouth” gnaws the tunnel through which Odin, in the guise of an eagle, flies away with the mead-treasure concealed in the “deep dales” at Fjalar’s under the roots of the world-tree. In the allegorical Grimnersmal strophe it is “Rate’s tooth” (Ratatoskr) who lets the mead-drinking foe of the gods near the root of the world-tree find out what the eagle in the top of the world-tree (Odin) resolves and carries out in regard to the same treasure. In Bragarædur the name is given to the gimlet itself which produced the connection between Odin’s world and Fjalar’s halls. The gimlet has here received the name of the boring “traveller,” of him who is furnished with “golden teeth.” Hence there are good reasons for assuming that in the epic of the myth it was Heimdal-Gullintanne himself whose fire-gimlet helped Odin to fly away with his precious booty. In Rigveda Agni plays the same part. The “tongue of Agni” has the same task there as “Rate’s mouth” in our Norse records. The sacred mead of the liquids of nourishment was concealed in the womb of the mountain with the Dasyus, hostile to the world; but Agni split the mountain open with his tongue, his ray of light penetrated into the darkness where the liquids of nourishment were preserved, and through him they were brought to the light |
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of day, after Trita (in some passages of Rigveda identical with Vata) had slain a giant monster and found the “cows of the son of the work-master” (cp. Rigveda, v. 14, 4; viii. 61, 4-8; x. 8, 6-9). “The cows of the son of the work-master” is a paraphrase for the saps of nourishiment. In the Teutonic mythology there is also “a son of the work-master,” who is robbed of the mead. Fjalar is a son of Surt, whose character as an ancient artist is evident from what is stated in Nos. 53 and 89. By friction Mâtaricvan brought Agni out of the maternal wombs in which he was concealed as an embryo of light and warmth. Heimdal was born to life in a similar manner. His very place of nativity indicates this. His mothers have their abodes vid jardar thraum (Hyndl., 35) near the edge of the earth, on the outer rim of the earth, and that is where they gave him life (báru thann man vid jardar thraum). His mothers are giaintesses (iotna meyjar), and nine in number. We have already found giantesses, nine in number, mentioned as having their activity on the outer edge of the earth — namely, those who with the möndull, the handle, turn the vast friction-mechanism, the world-mill of Mundilfore. They are the níu brúdir of Eyludr, “the Isle-grinder,” mentioned by Snæbjorn (see above). These nine giant-maids, who along the outer zone of the earth (fyrir jardar skauti) push the mill’s sweep before themselves and grind the coasts of the islands, are the same nine giant-maids who on the outer zone of the earth gave birth to Heimdal, the god of the friction-fire. Hence one of Heimdal’s mothers is called Angeyja, “she who makes the |
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islands closer,” and another one is called Eyrgjafa, “she who gives sandbanks.” Mundilföri, who is the father of Sol and Mane, and has the care of the motions of the starry heavens is accordingly also, though in another sense, the father of Heimdal the pure, holy fire to whom the glittering objects in the skies must naturally be regarded as akin. In Hyndluljod (37) Heimdal’s nine giant-mothers are named: Gjálp, Greip, Eistla, Eyrgjafa, Ulfrun, Angeyja, Imdr, Atla, Járnsaxa. The first two are daughters of the fire-giant Geirrod (Younger Edda, i. 288). To fire refers also Imdr, from ím, embers. Two of the names, Angeyja and Eyrgjafa, as already shown, indicate the occupation of these giantesses in connection with the world-mill. This is presumably also the case with Járnsaxa, “she who crushes the iron.” The iron which our heathen fathers worked was produced from the sea- and swamp-iron mixed with sand and clay, and could therefore properly be regarded as a grist of the world-mill. Heimdal’s antithesis in all respects, and therefore also his constant opponent in the mythological epic, is Loke, he too a fire-being, but representing another side of this element. Natural agents such as fire, water, wind, cold, heat, and thunder have in the Teutonic mythology a double aspect. When they work in harmony, each within the limits which are fixed by the welfare of the world and the happiness of man, then they are sacred forces and are represented by the gods. But when these limits are transgressed, giants are at work, and the turbulent elements are represented by beings of giant-race. This is |
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also true of thunder, although it is the common view among mythologists that it was regarded exclusively as a product of Thor’s activity. The genuine mythical conception was, however, that the thunder which purifies the atmosphere and fertilises the thirsty earth with showers of rain, or strikes down the foes of Midgard, came from Thor; while that which splinters the sacred trees, sets fire to the woods and houses, and kills men that have not offended the gods, came from the foes of the world. The blaze-element (see No. 35) was not only in the possession of the gods, but also in that of the giants (Skirnersmal), and the lightning did not proceed alone from Mjolner, but was also found in Hrungner’s hein and in Geirrod’s glowing javelin. The conflicts between Thor and the giants were not only on terra firma, as when Thor made an expedition on foot to Jotunheim, but also in the air. There were giant-horses that were able to wade with force and speed through the atmosphere, as, for instance, Hrungner’s Gullfaxi (Younger Edda, i. 270), and these giant-horses with their shining manes, doubtless, were expected to carry their riders to the lightning-conflict in space against the lightning-hurler, Thor. The thunderstorm was frequently a víg thrimu, a conflict between thundering beings, in which the lightnings hurled by the ward of Midgard, the son of Hlodyn, crossed the lightnings hurled by the foes of Midgard. Loke and his brothers Helblindi and Byl-eistr are the children of a giant of this kind, of a giant representing the hurricane and thunder. The rain-torrents and waterspouts of the hurricane, which directly or indirectly |
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became wedded to the sea through the swollen streams, gave birth to Helblinde, who, accordingly, received Rán as his “maid” (Yngl., 51). The whirlwind in the hurricane received as his ward Byleistr, whose name is composed of bylr, “whirlwind,” and eistr, “the one dwelling in the east” (the north), a paraphrase for “giant.” A thunderbolt from the hurricane gave birth to Loke. His father is called Fárbauti, “the one inflicting harm,” and his mother is Laufey, “the leaf-isle,” a paraphrase for the tree-crown (Younger Edda, 104, 268). Thus Loke is the son of the burning and destructive lightning, the son of him who particularly inflicts damaging blows on the sacred oaks (see No. 36) and sets fire to the groves. But the violence of the father does not appear externally in the son’s character. He long prepares the conflagration of the world in secret, and not until he is put in chains does he exhibit, by the earthquakes he produces, the wild passion of his giant nature. As a fire-being, he was conceived as handsome and youthful. From an ethical point of view, the impurity of the flame which he represents is manifested by his unrestrained sensuousness. After he had been for ever exiled from the society of the gods and had been fettered in his cave of torture, his exterior, which was in the beginning beautiful, became transformed into an expression of his intrinsic wickedness, and his hair grew out in the form of horny spears (see above). In this too he reveals himself as a counterpart of Heimdal, whose helmet is ornamented with a glittering ram’s horn. |
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The position which we have found Mundilfore to occupy indicates that, although not belonging to the powers dwelling in Asgard, he is one of the chief gods of the Teutonic mythology. All natural phenomena, which appear to depend on a fixed mechanical law and not on the initiative of any mighty will momentarily influencing the events of the world, seem to have been referred to his care. The mythology of the Teutons, like that of the Rigveda-Aryans, has had gods of both kinds — gods who particularly represent that order in the physical and moral world which became fixed in creation, and which, under normal conditions, remain entirely uniform, and gods who particularly represent the powerful temporary interference for the purpose of restoring this order when it has been disturbed, and for the purpose of giving protection and defence to their worshippers in times of trouble and danger. The latter are in their very nature war-gods always ready for battle, such as Vita and Indra in Rigveda, Odin and Thor-Indridi in the Eddas; and they have their proper abode in a group of fortified celestial citadels like Asgard, whence they have their out-look upon the world they have to protect — the atmosphere and Midgard. The former, on the other hand, have their natural abode in Jormungrund’s outer zone and in the lower world, whence the world-tree grew, and where the fountains are found whose liquids penetrate creation, and where that wisdom had its source of which Odin only, |
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by self-sacrifice, secured a part. Down there dwell, accordingly, Urd and Mimer, Nat and Dag, Mundilfore with the dises of the sun and the moon, Delling, the genius of the glow of dawn, and Billing, the genius of the blushing sunset. There dwell the smiths of antiquity who made the chariots of the sun and moon and smithied the treasures of vegetation. There dwell the nidjar who represent the moon’s waxing and waning; there the seven sons of Mimer who represent the changing seasons (see No. 87). Mundilfore is the lord of the regular revolutions of the starry firmament, and of the regular rising and sinking of the sea in its ebb and flood. He is the father of the dises of the sun and moon, who make their celestial journeys according to established laws; and, finally, he is the origin of the holy fire; he is father of Heimdal, who introduced among men a systematic life in homes fixed and governed by laws. As the father of Heimdal, the Vana-god, Mundilfore is himself a Vana-god, belonging to the oldest branch of this race, and in all probability one of those “wise rulers” who, according to Vafthrudnersmal, “created Njord in Vanaheim and sent him as a hostage to the gods (the Asas).” Whence came the clans of the Vans and the Elves? It should not have escaped the notice of the mythologists that the Teutonic theogony, as far as it is known, mentions only two progenitors of the mythological races — Ymer and Bure. From Ymer develop the two very different races of giants, the offspring of his arms and that of his feet (see No. 86) — in other words, the noble race to which the norns, Mimer and Beistla belong, and the |
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ignoble, which begins with Thrudgelmer. Bure gives birth to Burr (Bor), and the latter has three sons — Odinn, Vei (Vé), and Vili (Vilir). Unless Bure had more sons, the Van- and Elf-clans have no other theogonic source than the same as the Asa-clan, namely, Burr. That the hierologists of the Teutonic mythology did not leave the origin of these clans unexplained we are assured by the very existence of a Teutonic theogony, together with the circumstance that the more thoroughly our mythology is studied the more clearly we see that this mythology has desired to answer every question which could reasonably be asked of it, and in the course of ages it developed into a systematic and epic whole with clear outlines sharply drawn in all details. To this must be added the important observation that Vei and Vili, though brothers of Odin, are never counted among the Asas proper, and had no abode in Asgard. It is manifest that Odin himself with his sons founds the Asa-race, that, in other words, he is a clan-founder in which this race has its chieftain, and that his brothers, for this very reason, could not be included in his clan. There is every reason to assume that they, like him, were clan-founders; and as we find besides the Asa-clan two other races of gods, this of itself makes it probable that Odin’s two brothers were their progenitors and clan-chieftains. Odin’s brothers, like himself, had many names. When Völuspa says that Odin, in the creation of man, was assisted by Honer and Loder, and when the Younger Edda (i. 52) says that, on this occasion, he was attended by his brothers, who just before (i. 46) are called Ve |
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and Vile, then these are only different names of the same powers. Honer and Loder are Ve and Vile. It is a mistake to believe that Odin’s brothers were mythical ghosts without characteristic qualities, and without prominent parts in the mythological events after the creation of the world and of man, in which we know they took an active part (Völuspa 4, 16, 17). The assumption that this was the case depends simply upon the fact that they have not been found mentioned among the Asas, and that our records, when not investigated with proper thoroughness, and when the mythological synonymies have not been carefully examined, seem to have so little to say concerning them. Danish genealogies, Saxo’s included, which desire to go further back in the genealogy of the Skjoldungs than to Skjold, the eponym of the race, mention before him a King Lotherus. There is no doubt that Lotherus, like his descendants, Skjold, Halfdan, and Hadding, is taken from the mythology. But in our mythic records there is only one name of which Lotherus can be a Latinised form, and this name is, as Müller (Notœ ulterior ad Saxonis Hist.) has already pointed out, Lodurr. It has above been demonstrated (see Nos. 20, 21, 22) that the anthropomorphous Vana-god Heimdal was by Vana-gods sent as a child to the primeval Teutonic country, to give to the descendants of Ask and Embla the holy fire, tools, and implements, the runes, the laws of society, and the rules for religious worship. It has been demonstrated that, as an anthropomorphous god and first patriarch, he is identical with Scef-Rig, the Scyld of the |
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Beowulf poem, that he becomes the father of the other original patriarch Skjold, and the grandfather of Halfdan. It has likewise been demonstrated (No. 82) that Heimdal, the personified sacred fire, is the son of the fire-producer (by friction) Mundilfore, in the same manner as Agni is the son of Matariçvan. From all this it follows that when the authors of mythic genealogies related as history wish to get further back in the Skjoldung genealogy than to the Beowulf Skjold, that is to say, further back than to the original patriarch Heimdal, then they must go to that mythic person who is Heimdal’s father, that is to say, to Mundilfore, the fire-producer. Mundilfore is the one who appears in the Latinised name Lotherus. In other words, Mundilfore, the fire-producer, is Lodurr. For the name Lodurr there is no other rational explanation than that which Jacob Grimm, without knowing his position in the epic of mythology, has given, comparing the name with the verb lodern, “to blaze.” Lodurr is active in its signification, “he who causes or produces the blaze,” and thus refers to the origin of fire, particularly of the friction-fire and of the bore-fire. Further on (Nos. 90, 91, 92, 121, 123) I shall give an account of the ward of the atmosphere, Gevarr (Nökkvi, Nœfr), and demonstrate that he is identical with Mundilfore, the revolver of the starry firmament. All that Saxo tells about Lotherus is explained by the character of the latter as the chieftain of a Vana-clan, and by his identity with Mundilföri-Gevarr. As a chieftain of the Vans he was their leader when the war broke out between |
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the Asas on the one side, and the Vans and Elves on the other. The banishment of Odin and the Asas by the Vans causes Saxo to say that Lotherus banished from the realm persons who were his equals in noble birth (nobilitate pares), and whom he regarded as competitors in regard to the government. It is also stated that he took the power from an elder brother, but spared his life, although he robbed him of the sceptre. The brother here referred to is not, however, Odin, but Hœnir (Vei). The character of the one deposed is gentle and without any greed for rule like that by which Honer is known. Saxo says of him that he so patiently bore the injustice done him that he seemed to be pleased therewith as with a kindness received (ceterum injuriœ tam patiens fuit, ut honoris damno tanquam beneficio gratulari crederetur). The reason why Honer, at the outbreak of the war with the Asas, is deposed from his dignity as the ruler of Vanaheim and is succeeded by Loder, is explained by the fact that he, like Mimer, remained devoted to the cause of Odin. In spite of the confused manner in which the troubles between the Asas and Vans are presented in Heimskringla, it still appears that, before the war between the Asas amid Vans, Honer was the chief of the latter on account of an old agreement between the two god-clans; that he then always submitted to the counsels of the wise Mimer, Odin’s friend; that Mimer lost his life in the service of Odin, and that the Vans sent his head to Odin; and, finally, that, at the outbreak of the feud with the Asas and after the death of Mimer, they looked upon Honer as unqualified to be their judge and leader. |
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Thus Loder becomes after Honer the ruler of Vanaheim and the chieftain of the Vans, while the Vans Njord, Frey, and the Elf Ull, who had already been adopted in Asgard, administer the affairs of the rest of the world. To the mythical circumstance, that Honer lost his throne and his power points also Völuspa, the poem restoring to the gentle and patient Vana-god, after the regeneration, the rights of which he had been robbed, thá kná Hœnir hlautvid kjosa (str. 64). “Then Honer becomes able to choose the lot-wood,” that is to say, he is permitted to determine and indicate the fortunes of those consulting the oracle; in other words, then he is again able to exercise the rights of a god. In the Eddas, Honer appears as Odin’s companion on excursions from Asgard. Skaldskaparmal, which does not seem to be aware that Honer was Odin’s brother, still is conscious that he was intimately connected with him and calls him his sessi, sinni, and máli (Younger Edda, i. 266). During the war between Asas and Vans, Frigg espoused the cause of the Vans (see No. 36); hence Loke’s insulting words to her (Lokasenna, 26), and the tradition in Heimskringla (Yngl., 3), that Vilir and Vei took Frigg to themselves once when Odin was far away from Asgard. Saxo makes Lotherus fall at the hands of conspirators. The explanation of this statement is to be sought in Mundilföri-Gevarr’s fate, of which, see Nos. 91, 123. Mundilfore’s character seems at least in one respect to be the opposite of Honer’s. Gylfaginning speaks of his ofdrambi, his pride, founded, according to this record, on the beauty of his children. Saxo mentions the insolentia |
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of Lotherus, and one of his surnames was Dulsi, the proud. See No. 89, where a strophe is quoted, in which the founder of the Swedish Skilfing race (the Ynglings) is called Dulsa konr, Dulsi’s descendant. As was shown above in the account of the myth about Scef, the Skjoldungs, too, are Skilfings. Both these branches of the race have a common origin; and as the genealogy of the Skjoldungs can be traced back to Heimdal, and beyond him to Mundilfore, it must be this personality who is mentioned for his ofdrambi, that bears the surname Dulsi. With Odin, Vei-Höner and Vile-Lodurr-Mundilföri have participated in the shaping of the world as well as in the creation of man. Of the part they took in the latter act, and of the importance they thereby acquired in the mythical anthropology, and especially in the conceptions concerning the continued creation of man by generation and birth, see No. 95.
It has already been shown above that Nat, the mother of the gods, has her hall in the northern part of Mimer’s realm, below the southern slopes of the Nida mountains. There has been, and still is, an interpretation of the myths as symbols. Light is regarded as the symbol of moral goodness, and darkness as that of moral evil. That there is something psychologically correct in this cannot be denied; but in regard to the Aryan religions the assumption |
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would lead to a great error, if, as we might be tempted to do, we should make night identical with darkness, and should refer her to the world of evil. In the mythologies of the Rigveda-Aryans and of the Teutons, Nat is an awe-inspiring, adorable, noble, and beneficent being. Night is said in Rigveda “to have a fair face, to increase riches, and to be one of the mothers of order.” None of the phenomena of nature seemed to the Teutons evil per se; only when they transgressed what was thought to be their lawful limits, and thus produced injury and harm, were giant-powers believed to be active therein. Although the Teutonic gods are in a constant; more or less violent conflict with the powers of frost, still winter, when it observes its limits of time, is not an evil but a good divinity, and the cold liquids of Hvergelmer mixed with those of Urd’s and Mimer’s fountains are necessary to the world-tree. Still less could night be referred to the domain of demons. Mother Nat never transgresses the borders of her power; she never defies the sacred laws, which are established for the order of the universe. According to the seasons of the year, she divides in an unvarying manner the twenty-four hours between herself and day. Work and rest must alternate with each other. Rich in blessing, night comes with solace to the weary, and seeks if possible to sooth the sufferer with a potion of slumber. Though sombre in appearance (Gylfy., 10), still she is the friend of light. She decorates herself with lunar effulgence and with starry splendour, with winning twilight in midsummer, and with the light of snow and of northern aurora in the |
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winter. The following lines in Sigrdrifumal (str., 3, 4) sound like a reverberation from the lost liturgic hymns of our heathendom.
Of the Germans in the first century after Christ, Tacitus writes (Germ., 3): “They do not, as we, compute time by days but by nights, night seems to lead the day” (nec dierum numerum, ut nos, sed noctium computant: nox ducere diem videtur). This was applicable to the Scandinavians as far down as a thousand years later. Time was computed by nights not by days, and in the phrases from heathen times, nótt ok dagr, nótt med degi, bœdi um nœtr ok um daga, night is named before day. Linguistic usage and mythology are here intimately associated with each other. According to Vafthrudnersmal (25) and Gylfaginning (10), Nat bore with Delling the son Dag, with whom she divided the administration of the twenty-four hours. Delling is the elf of the morning red (see No. 35). The symbolism of nature is here distinct as in all theogonies. Through other divinities, Nagelfar and Ónarr (Anarr, Aunarr), Nat is the mother with the former of Unnr (Udr), also called Audr, with the latter of the goddess |
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Jord, Odin’s wife. Unnr means water, Audr means rich. It has above been shown that Unnr-Audr is identical with Njord, the lord of wealth and commerce, who in the latter capacity became the protectors of navigators, and to whom sacrifices were offered for a prosperous voyage. Gods of all clans — Asas, Vans, and Elves — are thus akin to Nat, and are descended from her.
Nat herself is the daughter of a being whose name has many forms.
All these variations are derived from the same original appellation, related to the Old Norse verb njörva, the Old English nearwian, meaning “the one that binds,” “the one who puts on tight-fitting bonds.” |
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Simply the circumstance that Narve is Nat’s father proves that he must have occupied one of the most conspicuous positions in the Teutonic cosmogony. In all cosmogonies and theogonies night is one of the oldest beings, older than light, without which it cannot be conceived. Light is kindled in the darkness, thus foreboding an important epoch in the development of the world out of chaos. The being which is Night’s father must therefore be counted among the oldest in the cosmogony. The personified representatives of water and earth, like the day, are the children of his daughter. What Gylfaginning tells of Narve is that he was of giant birth, and the first one who inhabited Jotunheim (Norvi eda Narfi hét jötun, er bygdi fyrst Jotunheima — Gylfag., 10). In regard to this we must remember that, in Gylfaginning and in the traditions of the Icelandic sagas, the lower world is embraced in the term Jtunheim, and this for mythical reasons, since Nifelheim is inhabited by rimthurses and giants (see No. 60), and since the regions of bliss are governed by Mimer and by the norns, who also are of giant descent. As the father of the lower-world dis, Nat, Narve himself belongs to that group of powers, with which the mythology peopled the lower world. The upper Jotunheim did not exist before in a later epoch of the cosmogonic development. It was created simultaneously with Midgard by Odin and his brothers (Gylfaginning). In a strophe by Egil Skallagrimson (ch. 56), poetry, or the source of poetry, is called niderfi Narfa, “the inheritance left by Narve to his descendants.” As is well |
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known, Mimer’s fountain is the source of poetry. The expression indicates that the first inhabitant of the lower world, Narve, also presided over the precious fountain of wisdom and inspiration, and that he died and left it to his descendants as an inheritance. Finally, we learn that Narve was a near kinsman to Urd and her sisters. This appears from the following passages: (a) Helge Hundingsbane (1, 3, ff.). When Helge was born norns came in the night to the abode of his parents, twisted the threads of his fate, stretched them from east to west, and fastened them beneath the hall of the moon. One of the threads nipt Nera cast to the north and bade it hold for ever. It is manifest that by Neri’s (Narve’s) kinswoman is meant one of the norns present. (b) Sonatorr. (str. 24). The skald Egil Skallagrimson, weary of life, closes his poem by saying that he sees the dis of death standing on the ness (Digraness) near the grave-mound which conceals the dust of his father and of his sons, and is soon to receive him:
It goes without saying that the skald means a dis of death, Urd or one of her messengers, with the words, “the kinswoman of Njorve (the binder) of Odin’s foes,” |
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whom he with the eye of presentiment sees standing on the family grave-mound on Digraness. She is not to stop there, but she is to continue her way to his hall, to bring him to the grave-mound. He awaits her coming with gladness, and as the last line shows, she whose arrival he awaits is Hel, the goddess of death or fate. It has already been demonstrated that Hel in the heathen records is always identical with Urd. Njorve is here used both as a proper and a common noun. “The kinswoman of the Njorve of Odin’s foes” means “the kinswoman of the binder of Odin’s foes.” Odin’s foe Fenrer was bound with an excellent chain smithied in the lower world (dwarfs in Svartalfheimr — Gylfag., 37), and as shall be shown later, there are more than one of Odin’s foes who are bound with Narve’s chains (see No. 87). (c) Hofudlausn (str. 10). Egil Skallagrimson celebrates in song a victory won by Erik Blood-axe, and says of the battle-field that there trad nipt Nara náttverd ara (“Nari’s kinswoman trampled upon the supper of the eagles,” that is to say, upon the dead bodies of the fallen). The psychopomps of disease, of age, and of misfortunes have nothing to do on a battle-field. Thither come valkyries to fetch the elect. Nipt Nara must therefore be a valkyrie, whose horse tramples upon the heaps of dead bodies; and as Egil names only one shield-maid of that kind, he doubtless has had the most representative, the most important one in mind. That one is Skuld, Urd’s sister, and thus a nipt Nara like Urd herself. (d) Ynglingatal (Ynglingasaga, ch. 20). Of King |
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Dygve, who died from disease, it is said that jódis Nara chose him. The right to choose those who die from disease belongs to the norns alone (see No. 69). Jódis, a word doubtless produced by a vowel change from the Old Germanic idis, has already in olden times been interpreted partly as horse-dis (from jór, horse), partly as the dis of one’s kin (from jod, child, offspring). In this case the skald has taken advantage of both significations. He calls the death-dis ulfs ok Narva jódis, the wolf’s horse-dis, Narve’s kin-dis. In regard to the former signification, it should be remembered that the wolf is horse for all giantesses, the honoured norns not excepted. Cp. grey norna as a paraphrase for wolf. Thus what our mythic records tell us about Narve is: (a) He is one of the oldest beings of theogony, older than the upper part of the world constructed by Bur’s sons. (b) He is of giant descent. (c) He is father of Nat, father-in-law of Nagelfar, Onar, and of Delling, the elf of the rosy dawn; and he is the father of Dag’s mother, of Unnr, and of the goddess Jord, who becomes Odin’s wife and Thor’s mother. Bonds of kinship thus connect him with the Asas and with gods of other ranks. (d) He is near akin to the dis of fate and death, Urd and her sisters. The word nipt, with which Urd’s relation to him is indicated, may mean sister, daughter, and sister’s daughter, and consequently does not state which particular one of these it is. It seems upon the whole to have been applied well-nigh exclusively in regard |
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to mythic persons, and particularly in regard to Urd and her sisters (cp. above: Njörva nipt, nipt Nara, nipt Nera), so that it almost acquired the meaning of dis or norn. This is evident from Skaldskaparmal, ch. 75: Nornir heita thœr er naud skapa; Nipt ok Dis nú eru taldar, and from the expression Heil Nótt ok Nipt in the above-cited strophe from Sigrdrifumal. There is every reason for assuming that the Nipt, which is here used as a proper noun, in this sense means the dis of fate and as an appellation of kinship, a kinswoman of Nat. The common interpretation of heil Nótt ok Nipt is “hail Nat and her daughter,” and by her daughter is then meant the goddess Jord; but this interpretation is, as Bugge has shown, less probable, for the goddess Jord immediately below gets her special greeting in the words: heil sia in fiolnyta Fold! (“hail the bounteous earth!”) (e) As the father of Nat, living in Mimer’s realm, and kinsman of Urd, who with Mimer divides the dominion over the lower world, Narve is himself a being of the lower world, and the oldest subterranean being: the first one who inhabited Jotunheim. (f) He presided over the subterranean fountain of wisdom and inspiration, that is to say, Mimer’s fountain. (g) He was Odin’s friend and the binder of Odin’s foes. (h) He died and left his fountain as a heritage to his descendants. As our investigation progresses it will be found that all these facts concerning Narve apply to Mimer, that “he who thinks” (Mimer) and “he who binds” (Narve) |
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are the same person. Already the circumstances that Narve was an ancient being of giant descent, that he dwelt in the lower world and was the possessor of the fountain of wisdom there, that he was Odin’s friend, and that he died and left his fountain as an inheritance (cp. Mims synir), point definitely to Narve’s and Mimer’s identity. Thus the Teutonic theogony has made Thought the older kinsman of Fate, who through Nat bears Dag to the world. The people of antiquity made their first steps toward a philosophical view of the world in their theogony. The Old English language has preserved and transferred to the Christian Paradise a name which originally belonged to the subterranean region of bliss of heathendom — Neorxenavang. Vang means a meadow, plain, field. The mysterious Neorxena looks like a gentive plural. Grein, in his Anglo-Saxon Dictionary, and before him Weinhold, refers neorxena to Narve, Nare, and this without a suspicion that Narve was an epithet of Mimer and referred to the king of the heathen regions of bliss. I consider this an evidence that Grein’s assumption is as correct as it is necessary, if upon the whole we are to look for an etymological explanation of the wor |