THE GREAT GODS: THOR AND ODIN
In common with the other Aryan races, the
ancient Scandinavians recognised, as the basis of
their religion, certain supernatural, usually unseen,
powers ruling the world and exercising an
influence on the affairs of mankind. In the ideas
which prevailed as to the nature of these powers
certain correspondences can be clearly traced in
the various Aryan religions, in spite of the fact
that our knowledge of them dates from widely
different periods of history. Even the Romans,
when they came into contact with the Germanic
races, noticed some of the similarities, and applied
the names of several of their own deities to the
corresponding figures among the barbarian gods.
When closer intercourse between Roman and
German had established itself, the result of these
equations was made prominent in the names
adopted by the latter for the days of the week,
several of which, in most of the Germanic
tongues, still bear witness to the old religion of
the race. Thus the counterpart of the Roman
Mars was found in the god Tiw, and consequently
dies Martis was rendered by forms now represented
in English by Tuesday. In the same way
the Roman Mercurius, Jupiter, and Venus were
identified with the Germanic gods called by the
English Wóden, Thunor, and Fríg, whence the
names of Wednesday, Thursday, and Friday.
In making these equations, of course, neither
German nor Roman did more than consider the
most obvious points of resemblance between the
deities; how close the correspondence actually
was in each case it is impossible to say, as we
know so little of the precise form which the
native religion had among the southern Germans.
It is only to a certain extent that the details
suggested by these translations of the Roman
names are supported by the evidence from the
Scandinavian side, but it is extremely probable
that some of the more striking discrepancies are
due to difference in time as well as in place and
people.
The three gods and the goddess whose names
are thus commemorated in the days of the week
hold also a prominent place among the Scandinavian
deities, where they appear under the
names of Ty (Týr), Odin (Óðinn), Thor (þórr),
and Frigg. But while Odin and Thor actually
hold the place which they might be expected to
occupy as objects of worship, the warlike deity
Ty has apparently become of secondary importance.
This is indicated not only by the native
Scandinavian evidence, but also by what can be
gleaned from external sources. In an Old English
sermon[1] by the Abbot Ælfric, about the year
1000, the mention of some of the Roman deities
leads the preacher to introduce the corresponding
Danish names. Jove or Jupiter, he says, 'was
called Thor among some peoples, and him the
Danes love most of all.' Mercury, too, 'was
honoured among all the heathens, and he is
otherwise called Othon in Danish.' Of Ty there
is no mention, although Mars is one of the Roman
deities specified by name. In another homily by
Ælfric there is the same identification of Thor
and Odin, along with 'the foul goddess Venus,
whom men call Frigg,' but here also Ty is ignored.
More than merely negative evidence, however,
is supplied by another outside source, which is
the leading contemporary account of Scandinavian
religion, viz. that given by the German historian,
Adam of Bremen (about the year 1075), in his
description of the great temple of the Swedes at
Upsala, and of the gods worshipped there. Here
he writes, 'the people venerate the statues of three
gods, so placed that the most powerful of them,
Thor, has his seat in the middle of the bench.
On either side of him Wodan and Fricco have
their places. Of these the significations are as
follows. Thor, they say, presides in the air, and
governs thunder and lightning, winds and rains,
fair weather and crops. The next, Wodan, that
is "Fury," carries on wars and gives men valour
against their enemies. The third is Fricco, bestowing
peace and pleasure upon mortals.' The
image of Wodan, he adds, resembled that of the
Roman Mars; that of Thor suggested Jupiter,
while Fricco was represented in a form resembling
the minor deity Priapus.
The god here called Fricco was known to the
Scandinavians themselves by the name of Frey
(Freyr), and that the triad thus specified by
Adam were in fact the chief deities worshipped
in the later stages of Scandinavian religion is
abundantly proved by the native evidence. The
identification of Odin with Mars in place of Mercury
is also in full accordance with the later
beliefs: in other words, Odin has taken the place
of Ty as the chief war-god. Whether this was
the main reason for the admission of Frey as
third member of the supreme triad is uncertain,
the earlier position of this god being altogether
unknown. Thor, it will be noticed, still retains
his place as the counterpart of the Roman Jupiter,
and stands between the other two gods, as being
the most powerful. The precise relationship,
however, between Thor and Odin is not by any
means so simple as this statement would suggest,
and forms indeed one of the most difficult questions
connected with the subject. This will be most
clearly brought out by a detailed account of the
relative place assigned to each of them in religious
practice on the one hand, and in mythological
accounts on the other; and the most correct
impression of the facts will probably be obtained
by dealing first with Thor.
The pre-eminence assigned to this god by Ælfric
and Adam of Bremen is quite in accordance with
what can fairly be inferred from the native historical
sources. A considerable number of passages in
the sagas yield combined proof that by the people at
large Thor was regarded as the chief deity, at least
in Norway and Iceland: for Sweden and Denmark
the evidence is less conclusive, but seems to point
in the same direction. It is of great significance,
for example, that in all the Scandinavian countries
the name of Thor is the one which is most frequently
used as a formative element in the names
of persons (such as Thor-kell, Stein-thor), and these
were evidently quite as common in Sweden and
Denmark as in Norway and Iceland. On the other
hand, the name of Odin is scarcely ever employed,
only one or two instances being found among the
Danes and Swedes. Names with Frey- as their
first element are more frequent, but are in small
proportion compared with those in Thor-. In
Danish and Swedish place-names, too, the predominance
of Thor is very marked, although Odin and
Frey are better represented here than in the case
of the personal names. In Norway and Iceland
place-names of this kind are rare, but Thorsness
and Thorsmark occur in the latter country. The
frequency with which Thor's hammer (see below)
is represented on Danish and Swedish runic
monuments, and the occurrence on ancient Danish
stones of the formula 'May Thor hallow this
monument' (or 'these runes'), also indicate that
the position of this deity was much the same
among all branches of the Scandinavian people.
In Denmark, too, there are distinct traces of a
tendency to hold local assemblies on the day
named after the god; in Iceland this was the
day on which the famous Al-thing (the legal and
legislative assembly of the whole people) began
every year, ten weeks after the first day of summer,
and in Norway the great law-assembly of the
western districts also began its meetings on a
Thursday.
For Norway and Iceland there is a considerable
amount of more direct evidence than this. In
several of the Icelandic historical writings it is
expressly stated that some of the leading colonists
had a special regard for Thor and his worship.
Of one who came from the island of Mostr, on
the south-western coast of Norway, it is told that
he had the custody of Thor's temple there, and
was a 'great friend' of the god, on which account
he was called Thorolf (=Thor-wolf). This Thorolf
fell out with King Harald, and went to inquire
of Thor, 'his loving friend,' whether he should
make terms with the king or leave the country.
The oracle directed him to go to Iceland. He
pulled down the temple, and took with him most
of the timber, as well as the earth from under the
pedestal on which Thor had been seated. On
coming near Iceland, he threw overboard the two
chief pillars of the temple, on one of which the
image of Thor was carved, and declared he would
settle wherever Thor made these come ashore.
After landing on the south side of Broadfirth,
they found that Thor had come ashore with the
pillars on a headland, to which they then gave
the name of Thor's-ness, while a river in the
neighbourhood was also named after the god.
When this Thorolf had a son in his old age, he
gave him to his friend Thor, and called him
Thorstein. Thorstein also gave his own son to
Thor, 'and said he should be a temple-priest, and
called him Thorgrim.' Another son of Thorolf's
sacrificed to Thor, that he might send him pillars
for his house, 'and gave his son for this,' which
probably means that he also dedicated his son to
the god, though one account appears to imply
that he actually offered him in sacrifice.
Of another settler, Helgi the Lean, who was
brought up in Ireland, it is stated that when he
came in sight of Iceland, he inquired of Thor
where he should land; the oracle directed him
to Eyafirth, and would allow him to go nowhere
else. Before they came in sight of the firth,
Helgi's son asked him whether he would have
obeyed Thor's directions if he had sent him to
winter in the Arctic Ocean. Yet Helgi was not
absolutely devoted to Thor, as he also believed in
Christ, and even called his Icelandic homestead
by the name of Christness. It was to Thor, however,
that he turned for aid in sea-faring and
difficult enterprises, and in all matters that he
considered to be of most importance.
Thorolf and Helgi were not the only settlers
who allowed Thor to fix the place of their habitation
in Iceland, and one in the south of the
island also consecrated all his land to Thor and
called it Thor's-mark. The tendency to appeal
to Thor for help in time of need is further
illustrated by an incident recorded as having
taken place during the Wineland expedition of
1007-8. The explorers were in great straits for
want of food, and had prayed for help, which
seemed long in coming. One of the party, named
Thorhall, was found by the others on the peak
of a cliff, looking up to the sky, and muttering
something, besides making strange gestures of
which he would give no explanation. Shortly
afterwards a whale came ashore, and Thorhall
said, 'The red-bearded one was stronger now than
your Christ. I have got this for my poetry that
I made about Thor. He has seldom failed me.'
This contrasting of Thor with Christ is a trait
which appears in other narratives, and is significant
of the place which the god held in the old
religion. In the struggle between heathenism
and Christianity in the Scandinavian countries
it is usually Thor, the red-bearded one, who is
the champion of the primitive faith and its most
powerful representative. The cases in which
Odin takes this place have a much more legendary
character, and are more likely to be due
to later invention. It was Thor whom the
believers in the old faith expressly put forward
as a rival to the God of the Christians. In the
early part of the eleventh century, when King
Olaf Haraldsson was doing his utmost to christianise
Norway, the following words are represented
as having been spoken by a powerful chief
named Gudbrand: 'There is come hither a man
named Olaf to offer us another faith than the one
we had, and to break all our gods in pieces, and
he says that he has a greater and mightier god.
It is a marvel that the earth does not open under
him when he dares to say such things, and that
our gods let him go any further. I expect, if we
carry Thor out of our temple where he stands,
and where he has always stood by us, that as
soon as he looks on Olaf and his men, then his
god and himself and his men will melt away and
come to nought.' So also when Thangbrand the
priest went to Iceland on his missionary enterprise
in 997, he met a woman who preached
heathendom to him at great length, and asked
him, 'Have you not heard that Thor challenged
Christ to single combat, and He dared not fight
with Thor?' When Thangbrand's ship was destroyed
by a violent storm, it was to Thor that
the credit of the accident was assigned.
The firm hold which Thor had upon the minds
of his worshippers is also illustrated by the way
in which some of the converts to Christianity felt
uneasy at abandoning him. Thorgils of Flói, in
the south-west of Iceland, was one of the first to
accept the new faith, and more than once he
dreamed that Thor came to him with reproaches
and threats for this desertion. Thorgils was firm,
and defied the angry god, but his later perils at
sea were believed by his companions to be the
work of Thor, and some of them even wished to
sacrifice to him for a fair wind, saying that people
had fared much better when they made offerings
to him.
The prominent place held by the worship of
Thor in the old religion is also indicated by the
frequent mention of images of the god in various
temples (as will appear in a later chapter); this
fact acquires special significance when contrasted
with the lack of similar statements regarding
Odin. It is also extremely probable that it was
Thor, and not Odin, to whom the vague names of
'Land-god' (Land-áss) and 'The Almighty God'
were given; the latter was used, coupled with the
names of Frey and Njörd, in an old oath-formula.
Having thus made the position of Thor among
the Scandinavian gods as clear as the evidence
admits of, it remains to show what manner of god
his worshippers supposed him to be. On this
point there is unfortunately less direct evidence
than could be wished. In origin Thor was the
thunder-god, and it is therefore natural to find
him spoken of as 'the strongest of all the gods.'
His weapon, the thunderbolt, was imagined as a
hammer, mythologically known by the name of
Mjölnir, and was especially used by him to
protect the gods and men against giants and
other evil monsters. To grasp it with he had
iron gloves, and he was also possessed of a girdle
of might which increased his strength twofold.
In his journeys, of which the mythological writers
have a good deal to say, he sometimes rode in a
chariot drawn by two goats. Of these details
there is very little trace in historical sources,
although one passage (of doubtful value) speaks
of an image of Thor seated in his chariot. The
hammer, however, was certainly the distinctive
symbol of the god, and representations of it were
evidently in common use as sacred and protective
marks. Not only is it frequently cut on stone
monuments, but small figures of it were apparently
used as amulets, of which a number have been
found in Denmark and Sweden. When the
Danish prince Magnus returned from an expedition
into the heathen districts of Sweden in 1123,
he brought back with him as trophies some Thor's
hammers of metal. It is not clear how far such
models of the hammer were used in religious
ceremonies; that it was employed at weddings
'to hallow the bride' appears to be highly probable,
but there is no direct historical evidence to
prove it.
The form in which the hammer was commonly
represented easily led to its association with the
Christian mark of the cross. At a festival held
in Norway in 952, Earl Sigurd dedicated the first
toast to Odin, and after drinking from the horn
handed it to King Hákon, who was a Christian.
When the king took it, he made the mark of the
cross over it. The heathens present protested
against this, and Earl Sigurd attempted to satisfy
them by saying, 'The king does like all those
who trust to their own might and strength, and
consecrate their toast to Thor. He made the
mark of the hammer over it before he drank.'
The relationship of Thor to Odin, and the
precise position of the latter among the Scandinavian
gods, must now be more closely considered.
In the sermon by Ælfric already cited
there is an interesting remark bearing on this, in
these words: 'Now the Danes in their delusion
say that Jove, whom they call Thor, was the son
of Mercury, whom they call Odin, but they are
not right in this' (i.e. according to Roman mythology).[2]
Ælfric's statement is in perfect accordance
with the old Scandinavian myths, which
represent Thor as the son of Odin and Earth, a
relationship also attested by various poetical
designations of the god. This is not at all what
the historical evidence would lead us to expect,
but the mythological account of Odin presents
a still more striking contrast to what has been
brought forward above as to the position of Thor.
'Odin,' says Snorri, 'is the highest and eldest of
the gods; he rules over all things, and for as
mighty as the other gods are, they all serve him
as children do their father.... Odin is called All-father,
because he is the father of all the gods.'
It is indeed quite clear that the whole mythological
system expounded by Snorri, and implied
in all the old Scandinavian poetry, centres on the
idea of Odin as the supreme god. As such he
has two important sides to his nature. On the
one hand he is a war-god, who assigns victory or
defeat to men, and who takes the slain warriors
to live with himself in Valhall; 'he is also called
Val-father, because all those who fall in battle are
his chosen sons: to them he gives places in Valhall
and Vingolf,' says Snorri. On the other hand he
is a god of wisdom and cunning, knowing all
things, and a god of poetry whom the skalds
regard as the author of their art. So far as the
historical evidence is strong enough to prove anything
regarding Odin, it indicates that a belief in
both of those aspects was really a part of the old
religion. We have already seen that Adam of
Bremen describes Odin as the war-god among the
Swedes, and Snorri also says that the Swedes
thought he often appeared to them before great
battles; 'to some he gave victory, and some he
invited to himself, and either lot was thought
good.' This association of Odin with war, and the
assignation to him of all those who were slain in
battle, are very prominent in the mythical sagas,
which may be accepted as representing a genuine
tradition in this respect, however much the details
may be due to later invention. In these sagas
one also finds the connection of Odin with death
by hanging, which appears in some of his poetic
names, and must be regarded as a real belief.
The purely historical evidence is, however, very
limited. Perhaps the only mention of an actual
offering to Odin is that found in the account of
Earl Hákon's doings after he had, under compulsion,
accepted Christianity in Denmark in 975.
On leaving that country, he sailed round to the
east coast of Sweden, landed there, and made a
great sacrifice. 'Then two ravens came flying
and croaked loudly, and the earl thought it
certain that Odin had accepted the sacrifice, and
that he would have success in fighting.' It is
very probable, however, that sacrifices to this god
were more common among the Danes and Swedes
than among the Norwegians, and that this may
account for the lack of reference to them in the
Icelandic writings.
That the belief in Valhall was a real one is
clearly shown by one or two passages in the sagas.
King Hákon the Good had been a Christian,
though latterly he had not made his religion
prominent, in order to avoid offending his heathen
subjects. When he was killed in battle in 961, he
was laid in the grave-mound with all his weapons
and best array. 'They made such speeches at his
burying as it was the custom of heathen men to
make, and sent him off on the way to Valhall.'
A poem on Hákon's death and his reception by
Odin in Valhall, which was composed at the time
by one of his skalds, gives a very fine expression
to the belief, which is also the leading theme in
an earlier poem on the death of King Eirík in
954. Even some who had not been killed
in battle were apparently thought of as going to
Odin in Valhall, if the passage in the saga of
Gísli may be relied upon, in which Thorgrím is
represented as saying, 'It is the custom to tie
hell-shoes on men when they shall go to Valhall,
and I will do that with Véstein' (who had been
murdered in his bed). There is also a reference
to the belief in Njál's saga, in the words of Högni,
'I intend to take the halbert to my father'
(Gunnarr, who had been killed shortly before
this), 'and let him have it to Valhall and bear it
there at the weapon-thing.' The same saga also
represents Earl Hákon in Norway, when he found
his temple burned down, as saying, 'The man
who has done this will be driven away from
Valhall, and never get entrance there.' It is
doubtful, however, whether much weight can be
given to these passages. The old practice of
beginning a battle by throwing a spear over the
enemy is in some of the mythical sagas explained
as a dedication of them to Odin, and it is possible
that this idea may be correct.
It is remarkable that in the Icelandic sources
there is no clear evidence for a general worship of
Odin in Norway or Iceland. In his account of
the old festivals Snorri states that the first toast
which went round was consecrated to Odin, and
was drunk 'for victory and for power to their
king.' And he also says that at the festival at
Hladir in 952 Earl Sigurd 'consecrated the first
toast to Odin.' The accuracy of Snorri's account
has been questioned, but even if it is correct, it
does not definitely establish Odin's position in
popular belief. Among the Icelanders themselves
there is nothing like the same evidence to show
that Odin was generally held in esteem and
veneration as there is in the case of Thor; and it
is noticeable that in the few cases where a belief
in, and reliance on, Odin are expressed, the
speaker is usually a poet. Thus Egil Skallagrímsson,
when he had suffered at the hands of
King Eirík (about 934), expresses in a verse his
wish that 'the gods and Odin' may be angry with
the king: in the second half of the verse Frey
and Njörd are also mentioned by name. The poet
Hallfred, who accepted Christianity in Norway in
996, makes several references in his verses to his
former worship of Odin, but in words which
clearly indicate that his capacity of skald had
much to do with this. When he was afterwards
accused of being still a heathen, it was the
possession of 'an image of Thor' which formed
one of the charges against him. It is, however,
stated that previous to their becoming Christians
Hallfred and his companions made a vow 'to give
much money to Frey if they reached Sweden, or
to Thor and Odin if they got to Iceland.' Kjartan
Olafsson is also made to speak of Thor and Odin
together, and Odin (along with Freyja) is specified
in the abusive verse by Hjalti Skeggjason (999),
which led to his prosecution for blasphemy against
the gods. On the other hand there is no mention
in any saga of any temple, image, or special priest
of Odin in any part of Iceland.
That the attribution of the art of poetry to
Odin, and his consequent position as the special
god of poets, was no mere conventional figment of
the skalds is best attested by Egil's poem on the
loss of his sons. Towards the end of this the poet
expresses his resentment against 'the lord of the
spear,' in whom he had confidently trusted before
he sent this loss upon him, and so destroyed the
friendship between them. Now he has no pleasure
in worshipping Odin, 'yet,' he adds, 'Mimir's
friend has given me recompense for my woes: he
gave me an art' (that of poetry) 'free from fault
and stain.'
As the above will show, there is a real difficulty
in reconciling the historical statements as to
the worship of Odin and Thor with the relative
positions assigned to them in the old mythology.
The explanation which seems to clear away this
difficulty in the most satisfactory manner is the
suggestion that Thor and Odin really belong to
different stages in the development of Scandinavian
religion. On this view Thor was originally the
chief god, and to a certain extent continued to
hold this position to the end. His supremacy,
however, was in the later period of heathenism
seriously threatened by the growing cult of Odin,
which was at first foreign to the Scandinavian
peoples, and was received by them from the
South Germanic races. This would easily account
for the seemingly greater popularity of Odin
among the Danes and Swedes than among the
Norwegians and Icelanders, to whom the new
cult would be later in spreading. In this connection
it may be noted that some of the poetic
names for Odin, such as 'the friend of the Gauts,'
'Tyr of the Gauts' (as well as the simple Gauti
and Gautr), appear to indicate that his worship
was associated with the people of that name in
southern Sweden. It was in Gautland that the
poet Hallfred was nearly sacrificed to Odin in
997, and here also in 1018 the poet Sigvat was
refused admission to a farm where a sacrifice was
taking place, because they 'were afraid of Odin's
anger.' It may even be significant that Earl
Hákon's sacrifice already mentioned was performed
on the coast of Gautland.
The ninth and tenth centuries were a period of
new development and great changes within the
Scandinavian countries. The Viking expeditions
brought a large part of the population into direct
contact with war and battle, while the former
petty kings disappeared, or lost most of their
importance, before strong rulers like Gorm in
Denmark or Harald in Norway. In the courts
of these new sovereigns there was a life and
splendour previously unknown in the north, and
under the royal favour the art of poetry flourished
to a remarkable extent. It appears fairly certain
that in these surroundings the cult of Odin found
most favour, and that the conceptions of the god
which meet us in the mythology were developed
among men who found a pleasure both in fighting
and in poetry, and who modelled their ideas of
the warlike deity on the monarch to whose court
they attached themselves. Odin was thus the god
of the warrior, the poet, and the friend of kings,
while Thor retained his former place in the hearts
of those who still followed the old way of life
in the secluded valleys of Norway or Iceland.
Something of this distinctly appears in the figures
of the two gods as they are presented in the old
poems and legends. Odin bears all the stamp of
the new life and culture about him; Thor is
rather a sturdy yeoman of the old unpolished
type. Odin is a ruler in whom knowledge and
power are equally combined; Thor has little more
to rely upon than his bodily strength. Even in
small matters the contrast is marked: Odin lives
by wine alone, while Thor eats the flesh of his
goats and drinks the homely ale. Odin's weapon
is the spear; Thor's is the more primitive hammer.
It is to Odin that all the warriors go after death;
Thor gets only the thralls. In some of the poems
there is an obvious tendency to assign to Thor an
undignified and even ludicrous part, which is
strongly at variance with the veneration in which
he was actually held, as we have seen above. It
would, perhaps, be unsafe to attach very much
importance to this, as it, is quite uncertain how
far these poems can be accepted as evidence for
religious beliefs. It is perhaps more significant
that while writers like Snorri tell how Odin and
various other gods (such as Njörd and Frey) came
from the south-east into Denmark and Sweden,
there is no similar account as regards Thor. In
the historical period, too, there were distinguished
families in Sweden and Norway whose genealogy
was traced back to Odin and Frey, while no one
claimed descent from Thor. Both of these facts
may reasonably be regarded as supporting the
view that Odin belongs to a later period in the
history of Scandinavia than Thor, and some such
explanation appears to be requisite to account for
the striking differences in the traditional statements
regarding the two chief gods of the old
religion.