The temporal government established by Odin was perpetuated through his sons. Thus Heimdall was placed over Scania, the original seat of the Danes. Semming had Norway. From another son sprung the Ynglings, who reigned for many centuries in Sweden and Norway. Skiold, a fourth son, led a colony into Zealand, which became the seat of a different kingdom; hence the Skioldungs, or the regal family of Denmark. And as to Balder, he was the king of the Angles, if any faith is to be placed in the “Saxon Chronicle.” Thus, according to tradition, as embodied in the Icelandic and Norwegian sagas, and in other monuments of antiquity, Odin was the progenitor of all the great dynasties of the north. But in regard to some parts of Norway, we must not forget the family of Nor—the mythologic, or rather mythic, Nor, whose fame was so widely spread, and from whom the whole country derived its name. Doubtless the native chiefs, those who descended from ancestors long antecedent to Odin’s arrival, were proud enough of their descent, and too much attached to their ancient religion—more ancient than Odin’s—to care for either the Asiatic conqueror or his attendant drottnar. But the kings of the Asser, or divine race, whose chief deity was this very Odin, boasted of a spiritual pre-eminence, superior, by far, to their temporal.[41]
But, reverting to the narrative of Saxo, and the alleged succession of the Danish kings, Hoder, whom (as we have before observed) Gewar, a king in Norway, had educated, won the heart of Nanna, the daughter of his benefactor. She had, however, the misfortune to influence a divine lover, Balder, the son of Odin, who, like David, had seen her in the bath. As he knew of her attachment to Hoder, he resolved to remove that person by violence; but the latter had friends powerful as those of his enemy. One day, while hunting in the mountains, Hoder entered a cloud, and suddenly beheld a number of virgins, who, though bearing some resemblance to the maids of Norway, were in reality the fatal sisters. They accosted him by name, told him that his beloved Nanna had smitten the heart of Balder, but warned him not to attempt the life of the demi-god. They informed him that they were present, unseen, in all battles—that they were the arbiters of good and evil—and that they often assisted their mortal friends when assistance was most required. Saying this, they disappeared so quickly, that his eye could not follow them. On his return, he related to Gewar what he had seen, and besought the hand of Nanna. The old king had no objection to the match; but he dreaded the wrath of Balder, on whose charmed body mortal weapon could have no effect. He added, however—for he was a great magician—that there was a sword kept by Mimring, a satyr of the woods, with virtue enough to slay the demi-god. The same being had bracelets, of efficacy so wonderful, as greatly to increase the bodily strength of the possessor. But how obtain these miraculous gifts? The abode of the satyr was amidst rocks and snows, and almost inaccessible to man. Hoder was, however, to take his sledge and rein-deer; to reach the alpine solitudes; to pitch his tent, so that the shadow of the satyr’s grove might fall upon it; and to watch day and night, with untiring patience, for the appearance of the mysterious occupant. The prince did as he was commanded; he fasted and watched, until one night, feigning to be asleep, he perceived the satyr attentively observing his tent. In a moment, he struck the monster, bound it with fetters, and threatened to kill it if it did not surrender the sword and bracelets. His life was dearer than those treasures. Hoder gained his object, and returned in triumph to the court of Gewar. The value of the treasure, indeed, was too great not to raise up rivals for its possession; and one king (Gelder, who has left his name to a well-known Dutch province), sailed with a powerful armament against him; but if it excited envy, it also aided its owner, and Hoder was victorious.[42]
In the mean time, Balder, terrible in arms, entered the dominions to obtain the fair Nanna by force, should entreaties be ineffectual. But she was deaf to the most honied flattery. Without betraying her attachment for Hoder, which would only place him in greater jeopardy, she represented in strong colours the inequality of the proposed marriage. “The chain which bound a god to a mortal,” she observed, “could not be a lasting chain. When the fervour of passion had subsided, the superior being, despising his ill-assorted choice, would at once dissolve it.” Balder had recourse to arms; and he was joined by the army of the gods, at the head of which were Odin and Thor. Here were fearful odds; but Hoder was not discouraged. His magic bracelets rendered him impenetrable to steel; and though the hammer of Thor crushed everything on which it fell, he had the courage to meet the Scandinavian thunderer. With his wonderful sword he cut off the handle of the all-destructive weapon, so as to render it useless; and the gods, deprived of their great support, took refuge in flight. The victory was complete; the allies of the gods were destroyed; their bodies cast by the waves on the shores; and the victor performed the last rites to their manes. “Strange,” concludes Saxo, “that gods could be thus routed by mortals!” But he accounts for the circumstance by gravely observing that they were deities in human estimation only, and not in reality. He evidently regards them merely as magicians and priests; wise, indeed, far beyond human wisdom, but still mortal. His religion, his profession, compelled him thus to regard them; and often, when he employs the term god, he adds the saving clause which we have just noticed.—To proceed: as the reward of this victory, Hoder obtained the hand of Nanna, with the throne of one part of Sweden; but he was shortly afterwards vanquished by Balder, and he lost the crown of Denmark. He and Balder were dreadful rivals. Through his love for Nanna, the latter wasted gradually away. To procure a greater share of the divine favour, he offered human sacrifices to Fro, and the fatal precedent was but too well imitated by succeeding ages. In the next battle, he was again the victor, and his rival compelled to seek an asylum in an obscure village of Jutland. Here, unattended and discouraged, Hoder felt the more deeply the contrast of situations. From Jutland, he passed into Sweden, privately assembled his staunch adherents, and represented to them the hopelessness of his prospects—that he was alike weary of empire and life. Compelled, indeed, to consult his safety by wandering from forest to forest, from one cavern to another, he exhibited a remarkable example of the instability of fortune, in a region where such vicissitudes were more frequent than in any other part of the world. In this emergency, while sojourning amidst woods never trod by man, he one day entered a cave, in which he found the weird sisters. Being asked what had brought him to their solitudes, he replied, “Misfortune in war.” He bewailed his hard fate, and asserted that their predictions had not been verified, but had been contradicted by the event. They contended, however, that if he had been twice put to flight, he had inflicted as great an injury on the enemy as the enemy had inflicted on him. But Balder was on the throne of Denmark; what consolation, therefore, could he receive? He was, indeed, told, that if he could only discover and appropriate to himself a certain species of food, which was every day served to his rival, and which increased that rival’s strength in a prodigious manner, he should become the victor. How discover it? But, whatever his fate, it could not be more disastrous than the present; and he again sought Balder in arms. The first day’s fight was indecisive. At night, he lay in his tent; but sleep refusing to visit him, he arose and went towards the enemy’s camp. There he saw three virgins (the purveyors of Balder’s table) leave that prince’s tent. He accosted them; and being asked who he was, replied, “A harper,”—a character always sacred in the north. As he was really expert in the use of the instrument, he was readily believed, and he was allowed to see what the mysterious substance was which had such miraculous effect on the body of his rival: it was the venom of three snakes which the virgins daily or nightly extracted from the mouths of the reptiles, and which they mixed with the more solid food of Balder. One of the maidens wished to give some of the food to Hoder, but the eldest forbade her. All, however, were so pleased with his minstrelsy, that they presented him with a belt, which would ensure him the victory over all his enemies. The prophecy was soon fulfilled. Possessed of this belt, in addition to his other magical treasures, he met his