Chapter XLVIII: Section V: Thor and the Midgard-Serpent

The gods were having a feast at Æger’s, and could not get enough to eat and drink. The reason was that Æger was in want of a kettle for brewing ale. He asked Thor to go and fetch it, but neither the asas nor the vans knew where it could be found, before Tyr said to Thor: East of the rivers Elivagar, near the borders of heaven, dwells the dogwise Hymer, and this my father has a kettle which is strong and one rast (mile) deep. Do you think we can get it? said Thor. Yes, by stratagem it may be gotten, answered Tyr. Tyr, and Thor under the semblance of a young man, now started out and traveled until they came to Egil. With him they left the goats and proceeded further to Hymer’s hall, and we shall presently see how Thor made amends for his journey to Utgard-Loke. At Hymer’s hall Tyr found his grandmother, an ugly giantess with nine hundred heads, but his mother, a beautiful woman, brought him a drink. She advised her guests to conceal themselves under the kettles in the hall, for her husband was sometimes cruel toward strangers. Hymer came home from his fishing late in the evening; the jokuls resounded as he entered the hall, and his beard was full of frost. I greet you welcome home, Hymer, said the woman; our son, whom we have been so long expecting, has now come home to your halls, and in company with him is the enemy of the giants and the friend of man, Veor (_i.e._ Asgardsveor, the protector of Asgard). See how they have concealed themselves at the gable end of the hall, behind the post yonder. Hymer threw a glance in the direction pointed out by his wife, and the post instantly flew into shivers at the look of the giant, the beam broke, and eight kettles fell down; one so hard and strong that it did not break in falling. The gods came forth, and straight the old giant gazed at his enemy. It was no pleasant sight to see Thor before him, but still he ordered three steers to be killed and served on the table. Thor alone ate two. This meal seemed to the friend of Hrungner somewhat extravagant, and he remarked that the next evening they would have to live on fish. The following morning, at break of day, when Thor perceived that Hymer was making a boat ready for fishing, he arose and dressed himself, and begged the giant to let him row out to sea with him. Hymer answered that such a puny stripling as he was could be of no use to him; besides, he said, you will catch your death of cold if I go far out and remain as long as I am accustomed to do. Thor said that for all that he would row as far from the land as Hymer had a mind, and was not sure which of them would be the first who might wish to row back again. At the same time he was so enraged that he was much inclined to let his hammer ring at the giant’s skull without further delay, but intending to try his strength elsewhere he subdued his wrath, and asked Hymer what he meant to bait with. Hymer told him to look out for a bait himself. Thor instantly went up to a herd of oxen that belonged to the giant, and seizing the largest bull, that bore the name Himinbrjoter (heaven-breaker), wrung off his head, and returning with it to the boat, put out to sea with Hymer. Thor rowed aft with two oars, and with such force that Hymer, who rowed at the prow, saw with surprise how swiftly the boat was driven forward. He then observed that they were come to the place where he was wont to angle for flat-fish, but Thor assured him that they had better go on a good way further. They accordingly continued to ply their oars, until Hymen cried out that if they did not stop they would be in danger from the great Midgard-serpent. Notwithstanding this, Thor persisted in rowing further, and in spite of Hymer’s remonstrances it was a long time before he would lay down his oars. When they finally stopped, Hymer soon drew up two whales at once with his bait. Then Thor took out a fishing line, extremely strong, made with wonderful art and furnished with an equally strong hook, on which he fixed the bull’s head and cast his line into the sea. The bait soon reached the bottom, and it may be truly said that Thor then deceived the Midgard-serpent not a whit less than Utgard-Loke had deceived Thor when he obliged him to lift up the serpent in his hand; for the monster greedily caught at the bait and the hook stuck fast in his palate. Stung with the pain, the serpent tugged at the hook so violently that Thor was obliged to hold fast with both hands in the pegs that bear against the oars. But his wrath now waxed high, and assuming all his divine power he pulled so hard at the line that his feet forced their way through the boat and went down to the bottom of the sea, while with his hands he drew up the serpent to the side of the vessel. It is impossible to express by words the scene that now took place. Thor on the one hand darting looks of wrath at the serpent, while the monster on the other hand, rearing his head, spouted out floods of venom upon him. When the giant Hymer beheld the serpent he turned pale and trembled with fright, and seeing moreover that the water was entering his boat on all sides, he took out his knife, just as Thor raised his hammer aloft, and cut the line, on which the serpent sank again under water. According to another version valiant Thor hauled the venom-potted serpent up to the edge of the boat, his hands struck against the side of the boat and with both his feet he stepped through, so that he stood on the bottom of the sea. With his hammer he struck the serpent in the forehead; the mountains thundered, the caves howled, and the whole old earth shrank together; but the serpent sank to the bottom, for at the sight of it the giant became so terrified that he cut the line. Then, according to both versions, Thor struck Hymer such a blow on the ear with his fist that the giant fell headlong into the water. The giant was not glad when they rowed back. While he carried his two whales, Thor took the boat, with oars and all, and carried it to the house of the giant. Then the giant challenged Thor to show another evidence of his strength and requested him to break his goblet. Thor, sitting, threw it through some large posts, but it was brought whole to the giant. But Thor’s fair friend gave him friendly advice: Throw it against the forehead of Hymer, said she, it is harder than any goblet. Then Thor assumed his asastrength. The giant’s forehead remained whole, but the round wine-goblet was broken. The giant had lost a great treasure; that drink, said he, was too hot; but there yet remained for Thor one trial of his strength, and that was to bring the kettle out of his hall. Twice Tyr tried to lift it, but it was immovable. Then Thor himself took hold of it at the edge with so great force that he stepped through the floor of the hall; the kettle he lifted onto his head, and its rings rung at his heels. They had gone a long distance before Odin’s son looked back and saw a many-headed multitude rushing impetuously from the caves with Hymer. Then he lifted the kettle from his shoulders, swung the murderous Mjolner and slew all the mountain-giants. After that he proceeded to Egil, where he had left his goats; and he had not gone far thence before one of the goats dropped down half dead. It was lame, and we remember from a previous myth that a peasant near the sea had to give Thor his son Thjalfe and daughter Roskva as bond-servants for laming one of his goats. Thor finally came to the feast of the gods and had the kettle with him, and there was nothing now to hinder Æger from furnishing ale enough at the feast, that he prepared for the gods at every harvest time.

This myth forms the subject of the lay of Hymer in the Elder Edda. The whole myth of course represents the thunderstorm in conflict with the raging sea; but a historical counterpart of this struggle of Thor with Hymer and the Midgard-serpent is so forcibly suggested that we cannot omit it. It is Luther’s struggle with the pope Romanism. Luther, the heroic Thor, saw his enemy, but did not strike just in the right time and in the right way, and the golden opportunity was lost after Hymer (the pope) had severed the fishing-line; that is after the old memories were destroyed, when the golden line connecting the Germans with their poetic dawn had been divided, and Romanism, with blood-stained breast, with close embrace first twined around the whole school system of Germany and north Europe, and horribly mangled their grand mission with its fangs, and then seized the Teutonic Laocoon and his sons and bound their unsophisticated Teutonic hearts in its mighty folds. Ay, this _Roman_ Midgard-serpent, with its licentiousness, arrogance, despotism, unbridled ambition, unbounded egotism, dry reasoning and soulless philosophy, has grasped the _Goth_ twice, yes thrice, about the middle, and winding its scaly book thrice around his neck, has overtopped him. In vain he has striven to tear asunder its knotted and gory spires. He can but shriek to heaven for help, and may Thor hear his cry and come to his rescue! May Thor next time embark well armed with his gloves and belt and hammer; but he had better leave the giant slain on shore. Yet Luther did a noble work. Although his first intention was to leave the giant unmolested, and only take his kettle from him, still, when he found a determined opposition threatening, he turned around, set down his kettle, and slew both the giant and the many-headed multitude (pope, cardinals, bishops, etc.) that followed him. But Luther erred in not establishing a thoroughly Teutonic in place of a Romanic school system. Thus he left his great work only half finished. If he had made good use of his hammer at the time, much valuable knowledge about our Teutonic ancestors might have been collected and preserved which now is lost forever.