The Road to Hel by H.R. Ellis Davidson: Complete Guide to Norse Death Beliefs

Overview

The Road to Hel: A Study of the Conception of the Dead in Old Norse Literature was published in 1943, during the darkest years of World War II, based on the doctoral thesis that Hilda Roderick Ellis submitted at Cambridge under the supervision of H.M. Chadwick. It was one of the first sustained scholarly attempts to reconstruct Norse beliefs about death and the afterlife from the full range of available evidence: archaeological, literary, and comparative.

The book's title comes from the Norse concept that the dead travel along a road (Helvegr, "the road to Hel") that leads downward from the world of the living to the realm of the dead. This road, described in the Eddic poem Baldrs Draumar, passes through dark valleys, crosses the river Gjoll over a bridge guarded by the giantess Modgud, and arrives at the gates of Hel, guarded by the hound Garm. The image of death as a journey along a specific road is one of the most vivid and consistent features of Norse death mythology.

Davidson's contribution was to demonstrate that Norse death beliefs were not a simple, unified system but a complex, multi-layered tradition that incorporated diverse and sometimes contradictory elements. The warrior who expected to feast in Valhalla after death coexisted with the farmer who expected to dwell in his burial mound, and both coexisted with the belief that the dead could be reborn in their descendants. These different conceptions, rather than being mutually exclusive, reflected different aspects of a rich and flexible religious tradition that accommodated multiple perspectives on the mystery of death.

H.R. Ellis Davidson

Hilda Roderick Ellis (1914-2006) was born in Bebington, Cheshire, and educated at Newnham College, Cambridge, where she studied under H.M. Chadwick, the pioneering scholar of early medieval northern European culture. Her doctoral thesis on Norse death beliefs, completed during the war years, was published as The Road to Hel in 1943, establishing her at age 29 as a serious scholar of Norse religion.

After marrying Richard Davidson in 1943, she published under the name H.R. Ellis Davidson. Her subsequent career produced a body of work that defined the field of Norse religious studies for the second half of the 20th century. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe (1964) became the standard accessible introduction to Norse mythology and is still widely read. Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe (1988) compared Norse and Celtic religious traditions. The Lost Beliefs of Northern Europe (1993) offered a mature reassessment of what can and cannot be known about pre-Christian Norse religion.

Davidson's approach was characterised by a combination of rigorous scholarship and genuine respect for the religious worldviews she studied. She treated Norse paganism not as a "primitive" religion to be patronised but as a sophisticated symbolic system that addressed the deepest questions of human existence: the meaning of death, the fate of the soul, the relationship between the living and the dead, and the nature of the heroic life.

Hel: The Realm of the Dead

Hel is the Norse realm where the ordinary dead reside: those who die of illness, old age, accident, or any cause other than battle. It is named after its ruler, the goddess Hel, daughter of Loki, who was cast down to the underworld by the Allfather Odin along with her siblings (the wolf Fenrir and the Midgard Serpent).

The realm of Hel is described in the Eddic sources as a grim but not necessarily punitive place. The Voluspa describes it as the home of the dishonoured dead, but other sources present it more neutrally as the destination of all who do not qualify for Valhalla. The Eddic poem Baldrs Draumar describes the road to Hel in detail: the god Hermod rides Odin's horse Sleipnir for nine nights through dark valleys until he reaches the bridge over the river Gjoll, which is thatched with glowing gold and guarded by the maiden Modgud.

Davidson argues that the Hel concept underwent significant development over time. In earlier traditions, Hel may have been a more neutral or even positive afterlife destination, a continuation of earthly existence in a subterranean setting. The grimmer, more punitive aspects of Hel may reflect the influence of Christianity, which introduced the concept of an underworld of punishment and associated it with the pre-existing Norse name (which gave English the word "hell").

The distinction between Hel (neutral underworld) and Valhalla (warrior's paradise) reflects the social values of Norse society: the warrior class glorified death in battle and expected a corresponding afterlife, while the farming majority anticipated a more modest continuation of existence. Davidson notes that this class-based afterlife geography is not unique to Norse culture: the Greek distinction between Elysium (for heroes) and the ordinary underworld (for everyone else) follows a similar pattern.

Valhalla: The Warrior's Paradise

Valhalla (Valholl, "Hall of the Slain") is the most famous aspect of Norse afterlife belief and one of the most vivid images of paradise in world religion. Described in the Eddic poem Grimnismal and in Snorri's Prose Edda, it is Odin's great hall in Asgard, with 540 doors (through which 800 warriors can march abreast) and a roof thatched with golden shields.

The warriors who dwell there, the einherjar ("those who fight alone" or "the once-armed"), are selected by the Valkyries from among those who die honourably in battle. Their daily routine is an eternal version of the Viking warrior's ideal life: they fight each other all day (their wounds healing each evening), feast each night on the inexhaustible meat of the boar Saehrimnir and the mead that flows from the goat Heidrun, and are served by the Valkyries. Their ultimate purpose is to fight alongside the gods at Ragnarok, the final battle against the forces of chaos.

Davidson analyses the social function of the Valhalla belief: it provided the ultimate incentive for martial courage. A warrior who expected to feast forever in Odin's hall had no reason to fear death in battle; indeed, death in battle was the gateway to the best possible afterlife. This belief system helped produce the ferocious fighting spirit for which the Vikings were famous (and feared). It also created a profound asymmetry between death in battle (honourable, leading to Valhalla) and death from other causes (ordinary, leading to Hel), an asymmetry that shaped Norse attitudes toward courage, honour, and the meaning of a life well lived.

Davidson notes that the Valhalla concept may have originated relatively late in Norse religious development, possibly as a response to the warrior aristocracy's desire for an afterlife that reflected and rewarded their martial values. Earlier Norse death beliefs may have been less differentiated, with all the dead going to the same destination regardless of how they died. The elaboration of Valhalla as a distinct warrior's paradise may represent the aristocratic appropriation of death mythology, creating a two-tier afterlife that mirrored the social hierarchy of the living world.

Ship Burial

Ship burial is one of the most distinctive and spectacular features of Norse funeral practice. The practice of interring the dead in ships or boats, sometimes with elaborate grave goods, reflects the centrality of seafaring to Norse identity and the belief that the dead must travel to reach their afterlife destination.

Davidson examines the major ship burials:

Oseberg (834 CE): Discovered in 1904 in Vestfold, Norway, the Oseberg ship burial contained a clinker-built ship 22 metres long, two female bodies (one possibly a queen or a volva), and an extraordinarily rich grave assemblage including a cart, sleighs, beds, tapestries, kitchen utensils, and animal bones. The ship's prow and stern are decorated with elaborate carvings, including the famous "gripping beast" style that defines Viking Age art. The Oseberg burial is the richest Viking Age female burial ever found and raises fascinating questions about women's status and religious roles in Norse society.

Gokstad (c. 900 CE): Found in 1880 near Sandefjord, Norway, the Gokstad ship burial contained a strong ocean-going vessel and the remains of a tall man in his 40s, accompanied by horses, dogs, a peacock, and various grave goods. The Gokstad ship's seaworthiness was demonstrated in 1893 when a replica sailed across the Atlantic to the Chicago World's Fair.

Sutton Hoo (c. 625 CE): Though Anglo-Saxon rather than Norse, the Sutton Hoo ship burial in Suffolk, England, is the most famous ship burial in Britain and illustrates the shared Germanic burial tradition. The ship contained a spectacular helmet, a gold belt buckle, a purse lid with garnet inlays, Byzantine silverware, and a wealth of other objects, but no body (it may have dissolved in the acidic soil). Sutton Hoo is usually identified with Raedwald, king of East Anglia.

Davidson argues that the ship served multiple symbolic functions: as the vehicle for the dead person's journey to the afterlife, as a statement of the deceased's wealth and status, as a microcosm of the world the dead person was leaving (equipped with everything needed for the journey), and as a sacrifice (a valuable ship was permanently removed from use). The ship burial synthesises Norse maritime identity, afterlife belief, and social display into a single, powerful ritual act.

Cremation Practices

Cremation was the most common Norse funeral practice, particularly in the earlier Viking Age. Davidson examines the archaeological evidence for cremation (cremation pyres, burned grave goods, urn burials) and the literary descriptions of cremation ceremonies in the sagas and Eddas.

The most famous literary cremation is that of the god Balder, described in the Prose Edda: his body is placed on his ship Hringhorni, which is pushed into the sea and set ablaze. His wife Nanna dies of grief and is placed on the pyre beside him, along with his horse and the gold ring Draupnir. The scene is attended by all the gods, giants, and supernatural beings, making it a cosmic event rather than merely a funeral.

Davidson argues that cremation reflected a specific belief about the relationship between body and soul: the fire released the soul from the body, allowing it to travel freely to the afterlife. This interpretation is supported by the saga passage in which the wise woman Gudrun tells Sigurd: "It is not right to keep a dead man above ground longer than three nights." The urgency of disposal suggests that the unburned or unburied dead were considered spiritually dangerous: trapped between worlds, unable to complete their journey.

The shift from cremation to inhumation (burial without burning) that occurred during the later Viking Age may reflect Christian influence (Christianity prohibited cremation) or indigenous cultural change. Davidson documents this transition carefully, showing that it occurred at different rates in different regions and that cremation and inhumation coexisted for extended periods.

The Mound and the Barrow-Dweller

Alongside the beliefs in Valhalla and Hel, Norse culture maintained a strong tradition that the dead continued to "live" in their burial mounds. The mound (haugr) was not merely a grave but a dwelling place for the dead, and the dead person who inhabited it was understood as a physically present being who could influence the fortunes of the living.

Saga literature provides vivid descriptions of mound-dwelling dead. They sit in their burial chambers surrounded by their grave goods, sometimes feasting, sometimes simply present. They can be visited (by breaking into the mound), consulted (through ritual practices performed at the mound), and propitiated (through offerings poured on the mound). They can also emerge from the mound to interact with the living, sometimes benevolently (as protective ancestors) and sometimes malevolently (as draugr).

Davidson argues that the mound-dwelling dead represent the oldest stratum of Norse death belief, predating both the Valhalla concept and the developed mythology of Hel. The idea that the dead continue to exist in their graves, surrounded by their possessions, is found across many cultures and may reflect the most basic human response to death: the reluctance to accept that the deceased is truly gone. The mound is a compromise between absence and presence: the dead person is not here (in the world of the living) but is not entirely elsewhere either (they are in a specific, visitable place).

The Draugr: The Restless Dead

The draugr (draugr, plural draugar) is one of the most vivid figures in Norse supernatural belief: a dead person who physically inhabits their burial mound and can emerge to terrorise the living. Unlike ghosts (which are insubstantial), draugar are corporeal: they have physical bodies, superhuman strength, and the ability to change size. They are described in the sagas as dark, swollen, and foul-smelling, reflecting the natural process of decomposition reinterpreted as supernatural transformation.

Davidson documents numerous saga accounts of draugr activity:

• Glamr in Grettis Saga: a shepherd who dies under mysterious circumstances, returns as a draugr, and terrorises the region until the hero Grettir wrestles him and cuts off his head
• Thorolf Lame-foot in Eyrbyggja Saga: a dead chieftain who emerges from his mound, kills livestock, and drives farmers from their land until his body is dug up and burned
• The draugar of Hrapp in Laxdaela Saga: a dead man who haunts his former household, killing servants and driving away his successors

The draugr can be defeated by three methods: (1) decapitation (severing the head from the body breaks the connection that animates the corpse), (2) burning (fire destroys the physical form that the dead person inhabits), or (3) heroic wrestling (a living champion physically subdues the draugr through superior strength and courage, as Grettir does with Glamr).

Davidson interprets the draugr tradition as reflecting a genuine belief that the dead maintain a physical connection to their burial places and that improper burial, unresolved conflicts, or the deceased's malicious personality can prevent the dead from resting peacefully. The draugr is not a "ghost" in the modern sense (an immaterial spirit) but a physically reanimated corpse, closer to the zombie of Haitian folklore or the revenant of medieval European legend. This emphasis on the physicality of the dead is characteristic of Norse death belief and distinguishes it from the more spiritualised afterlife concepts of Christianity and Buddhism.

Ibn Fadlan's Account

One of the most valuable sources for Norse funeral practice is the account of Ahmad ibn Fadlan, an Arab diplomat who witnessed a Rus (Viking) ship cremation on the Volga River in 922 CE. Davidson devotes careful attention to this account because it provides the most detailed eyewitness description of a Norse funeral ceremony.

Ibn Fadlan describes a 10-day funerary process: the dead chieftain's body is temporarily buried while preparations are made. His possessions are divided into thirds (for the funeral, for funeral garments, and for the sacrificial feast). A slave woman volunteers (or is selected) to accompany her master in death. During the 10 days, she is given quantities of intoxicating drink and has sexual intercourse with each of the dead man's companions, who tell her: "Tell your master I did this out of love for him."

On the final day, the ship is drawn onto shore. The dead man's body, dressed in rich garments, is placed on the ship with food, drink, weapons, and sacrificed animals (dogs, horses, chickens, a cow). The slave woman is killed (stabbed and strangled simultaneously) and placed beside her master. An old woman called the "Angel of Death" oversees the sacrifice. The ship is then set ablaze, and a mound is raised over the ashes.

Davidson analyses this account with care, noting both its value (it is the only detailed eyewitness account of a Norse funeral) and its limitations (Ibn Fadlan was an outsider who may have misunderstood some aspects of what he observed, and the Rus of the Volga may not have been representative of all Norse funeral traditions). She uses the account to illuminate literary descriptions of funerals in the sagas and Eddas, showing both correspondences and differences.

Valkyries and the Einherjar

The Valkyries ("choosers of the slain") are among the most distinctive figures in Norse death mythology. Davidson traces their development from terrifying battle-spirits to the more individualised and romanticised figures of later literature.

In the earliest sources, the Valkyries are fearsome supernatural women who ride over battlefields, selecting which warriors will die and which will survive. Their names reflect their warlike nature: Gunnr ("Battle"), Hildr ("War"), Geirskogul ("Spear-Bearer"), Skogul ("Shaker"). They are associated with ravens and wolves, the scavengers of the battlefield, and their appearance is an omen of slaughter.

In later sources, the Valkyries become more individualised and sympathetic. Brynhild in the Volsung cycle is a Valkyrie who defies Odin by giving victory to the wrong warrior, is punished by being put to sleep in a ring of fire, and is awakened by the hero Sigurd. Sigrun in Helgakvida Hundingsbana is a Valkyrie who loves the mortal warrior Helgi and visits his burial mound to be with him after his death. These later Valkyries are tragic figures caught between their supernatural duty and their human emotions.

The einherjar are the warriors who dwell in Valhalla, chosen by the Valkyries from among the battle-dead. Davidson examines the concept in the context of Norse warrior ideology: the einherjar represent the idealised afterlife of the warrior class, an eternal continuation of the activities (fighting and feasting) that defined their earthly identity. Their ultimate purpose, to fight alongside the gods at Ragnarok, gives their eternal warfare a cosmic significance: they are not merely enjoying themselves but preparing for the most important battle in the history of the universe.

Ancestor Rebirth

Davidson documents the Norse belief in the rebirth of ancestors within their own family lines. This belief, less prominent than the Valhalla and Hel concepts but attested in multiple saga sources, held that the dead could be reborn in their descendants, carrying their ancestor's name, personality, and sometimes physical characteristics.

The practice of naming children after recently deceased relatives (uppnefning, "naming after") is widespread in Icelandic sagas and may reflect this belief. When a child is named after a grandparent or other ancestor who has recently died, the expectation is that some portion of the ancestor's spirit passes to the child along with the name. This explains the Icelandic reluctance to name a child after a living relative (which would create a conflict of spiritual identity) and the importance attached to the naming ceremony.

Davidson connects this rebirth belief to the broader Norse concept of the hamingja, a personal protective spirit or luck that was associated with specific families and could be transmitted from one generation to the next. The hamingja was not the entire soul of the deceased but a specific aspect of their being, their fortune, their protective power, that could be inherited by their descendants. This concept of partial spiritual inheritance, in which the dead live on through their descendants rather than in a separate afterlife realm, represents yet another strand in the complex web of Norse death beliefs.

The Living and the Dead

One of Davidson's most important contributions is her demonstration that Norse death beliefs are inseparable from Norse beliefs about the relationship between the living and the dead. In Norse culture, this relationship was ongoing, reciprocal, and vitally important to both parties.

The living honoured the dead through:

• Funeral rites: Proper burial or cremation, with appropriate grave goods, ensured that the dead person could complete their journey to the afterlife and be comfortable in their new dwelling.
• Offerings: Ale poured on burial mounds, food left at the grave, and sacrifices performed at specific times (particularly at Yule and at the anniversary of the death) maintained the dead person's goodwill.
• Remembrance: Keeping the dead person's name alive through storytelling, naming descendants after them, and invoking their memory in legal and social contexts preserved their ongoing presence in the community.

The dead, in return, provided:

• Protection: Honoured ancestors guarded their descendants and their land from harm.
• Wisdom: The dead possessed knowledge unavailable to the living (Odin himself consults the dead volva in Baldrs Draumar), and could be called upon for advice through necromantic practices.
• Fertility: The dead, dwelling in the earth, were associated with the fertility of the land. Alfablot (sacrifice to the elves/ancestors) was performed to ensure good harvests.
• Continuity: The dead provided the link between past and future, ensuring that the family's identity, reputation, and fortune persisted across generations.

This ongoing relationship between the living and the dead is the thread that connects all the diverse strands of Norse death belief. Whether the dead dwell in Valhalla, in Hel, in their burial mounds, or are reborn in their descendants, they remain part of the community. Death is not a separation but a transformation of the relationship: the dead become invisible but not absent, changing their mode of participation in the community from active to passive, from visible to invisible, from present to remembered.

Comparative Context

Davidson places Norse death beliefs within a broader comparative context, drawing parallels with other Indo-European and non-Indo-European traditions:

Greek parallels: The distinction between Valhalla (for warriors) and Hel (for ordinary dead) parallels the Greek distinction between Elysium (for heroes) and Hades (for everyone). Both reflect a class-based afterlife geography in which the manner and context of death determine the posthumous destination.

Hindu parallels: The concept of Svarga (Indra's heaven for warriors) parallels Valhalla, and the belief that the manner of death determines the afterlife destination is found in both traditions. The Hindu custom of sati (widow self-immolation) has structural parallels with the Norse practice of sacrificing a slave woman to accompany her master in death, as described by Ibn Fadlan.

Celtic parallels: The Celtic Otherworld (Tir na nOg, Annwn) shares features with both Valhalla (feasting, timelessness) and the Norse conception of the mound-dwelling dead (ancestors accessible through specific landscape features). Davidson explores these parallels more fully in her later Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe.

Finnish parallels: The Finnish concept of Tuonela (the realm of the dead) shares the Norse concept of a subterranean afterlife realm accessed by a road and a river crossing. The Finnish shamanistic practice of spirit journeys to the land of the dead to consult the ancestors parallels the Norse practice of consulting the dead through seidr.

Key Archaeological Sites

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