HEATHENDOM.
An account of the Saxons which should entirely exclude the peculiarities
of their heathendom, would be deficient in an important degree. Religion
and law are too nearly allied, particularly in early periods, for us to
neglect either, in the consideration of national institutions. The
immediate dependence of one upon the other we may not be able to show in
satisfactory detail; but we may be assured that the judicial forms are
always in near connexion with the cult, and that this is especially the
case at times when the judicial and priestly functions are in the hands
of the same class.
The Saxons were not without a system of religion, long before they heard
of Christianity, nor should we be justified in asserting that religion
to have been without moral influence upon the individual man in his
family and social relations. Who shall dare to say that the
high-thoughted barbarian did not derive comfort in affliction, or
support in difficulty, from the belief that the gods watched over
him,—that he did not bend in gratitude for the blessings they
conferred,—that he was not guided and directed in the daily business of
life by the conviction of his responsibility to higher powers than any
which he recognized in the world around him? There has been, and yet is,
religion without the pale of Christianity, however dim and meagre and
unsatisfactory that religion may appear to us whom the mercy of God has
blessed with the true light of the Gospel. Long before their conversion,
all the Germanic nations had established polities and states upon an
enduring basis,—upon principles which still form the groundwork and
stablest foundation of the greatest empires of the world,—upon
principles which, far from being abrogated by Christianity, harmonize
with its purest precepts. They who think states accidental, and would
eliminate Providence from the world, may attempt to reconcile this truth
with their doctrine of _barbarism_; to us be it permitted to believe
that, in the scheme of an all-wise and all-pervading mercy, one
condition here below may be the fitting preparation for a higher; and
that even Paganism itself may sometimes be only as the twilight, through
which the first rays of the morning sun are dimly descried in their
progress to the horizon. Without religion never was yet state founded,
which could endure for ages; the permanence of our own is the most
convincing proof of the strong foundations on which the massive fabric,
from the first, was reared.
The business of this chapter is with the heathendom of the Saxons; not
that portion of it which yet subsists among us in many of our most
cherished superstitions, some of which long lurked in the ritual of the
unreformed church, and may yet lurk in the habits and belief of many
Protestants; but that which was the acknowledged creed of the Saxon, as
it was of other Germanic populations; which once had priests and altars,
a ritual and ceremonies, temples and sacrifices, and all the pomp and
power of a church-establishment.
The proper subjects of mythological inquiry are the gods and godlike
heroes: it is through the latter—for the most part, forms of the gods
themselves—that a race connects itself with the former. Among the
nations of our race royalty is indeed _iure divino_, for the ruling
families are in direct genealogical descent from divinity, and the
possession of Wóden’s blood was the indispensable condition of kingship.
In our peculiar system, the vague records of Tuisco, the earth-born
god[608], and Man, the origin and founders of the race, have vanished;
the mystical cosmogony of Scandinavia has left no traces among us[609];
but we have nevertheless a mythological scheme which probably yielded
neither in completeness nor imaginative power to those of the German or
the Norwegian.
-----
Footnote 608:
“Celebrant carminibus antiquis.... Tuisconem deum terrâ editum et
filium Mannum, originem gentis conditoresque.” Germ. ii. So sung the
earliest Greeks:
ἀντίθεον δὲ Πέλασγον ἐν ὑψικομοῖσιν ὅρεσσι
γαῖα μέλαιν’ ἀνέηκεν ἵνα θνήτων γένος εἴη.
Footnote 609:
There is no better account of this than Geijer gives in his History of
Sweden, vol. i. _passim_.
-----
In the following pages I propose to take into consideration, first the
Gods and Goddesses, properly so called: secondly, the Monsters or
Titanic powers of our old creed: thirdly, the intermediate and as it
were ministerial beings: and lastly the god-born and heroic personages
of the epopoea.
The prudence or the contempt of the earliest Saxon Christians has left
but sparing record of what Augustine and his brother missionaries
overthrew. Incidental notices indeed are all that remain in any part of
Teutonic Europe; and on the continent, as well as in England, it is only
by the collation of minute and isolated facts,—often preserved to us in
popular superstitions, legends and even nursery tales,—that we can
render probable the prevalence of a religious belief identical in its
most characteristic features with that which we know to have been
entertained in Scandinavia. Yet whatsoever we can thus recover, proves
that, in all main points, the faith of the island Saxons was that of
their continental brethren.
It will readily be supposed that the task of demonstrating this is not
easy. The early period at which Christianity triumphed in England, adds
to the difficulties which naturally beset the subject. Norway, Sweden
and Denmark had entered into public relations with the rest of Europe,
long before the downfall of their ancient creed: here, the fall of
heathendom and the commencement of history were contemporaneous: we too
had no Iceland[610] to offer a refuge to those who fled from the violent
course of a conversion, preached sword in hand, and coupled with the
loss of political independence; still the progress of the new faith
seems to have been on the whole easy and continuous amongst us; and
though apostasy was frequent, history either had no serious struggle to
record, or has wisely and prudently concealed it.
-----
Footnote 610:
Thus was Iceland colonized, by men who would neither relinquish their
old belief, nor submit to the growing power of a king. The Old-saxons
had no such place of refuge, and the arms of Charlemagne prevailed to
destroy their national independence and their religion together.
-----
In dealing with this subject, we can expect but little aid from the
usual sources of information. The early chroniclers who lived in times
when heathendom was even less extinct than it now is, and before it had
learnt to hide itself under borrowed names, would have shrunk with
horror from the mention of what to them, was an execrable impiety: many
of them could have possessed no knowledge of details which to us would
be invaluable, and no desire to become acquainted with them: the whole
business of their life, on the contrary, was to destroy the very
remembrance that such things had been, to avoid everything that could
recall the past, or remind their half-converted neophytes of the creed
which they and their forefathers had held. It is obvious that, under
such circumstances, the greater and more powerful the God, the more
dangerous would he continue to be, the more sedulously would all mention
of him be avoided by those who had relinquished his service or
overthrown his altars. But though this may be the case with the
principal deities, there are others whose power, though unacknowledged,
is likely to be more permanent. Long after the formal renunciation of a
public and national paganism, the family and household gods retain a
certain habitual influence, and continue—often under other names, nay
perhaps engrafted on another creed—to inform the daily life of a people
who are still unconsciously acted upon by ancient national feelings. A
spell or a popular superstition may yet recall some traces of the old
belief, even as the heathen temple, when purified with holy water and
dedicated in another name, retained the holiness which had at first been
attached to the site of its foundation.
What Paulus Diaconus, Jonas of Bobbio, Jornandes, Adam of Bremen,
Alcuin, Widukind, and the monks of St. Gall, assert of other German
races, Beda asserts of the Anglosaxons also, viz. that they worshiped
idols[611], _idola_, _simulacra deorum_; and this he affirms not only
upon the authority of his general informants and of unbroken tradition,
but of Gregory himself. Upon the same authority also he tells us that
the heathen were wont to sacrifice many oxen to their gods[612]. To Beda
himself we owe the information that Hréðe and Eostre, two Saxon
goddesses, gave their names to two of the months; that at a certain
season cattle were vowed, and at another season cakes were offered to
the gods[613]. From him also we learn that upon the death of Sǽbeorht in
Essex, his sons restored the worship of idols in that kingdom[614]; that
Eádwini of Northumberland offered thanks to his deities for the safe
delivery of his queen[615]; that Rǽdwald of Eastanglia sacrificed
victims to his gods[616]; that, on occasion of a severe pestilence, the
people of Essex apostatized and returned to their ancient worship[617],
till reconverted by Gearoman, under whose teachings they destroyed or
deserted the fanes and altars they had made; that incantations and
spells were used against sickness[618]; that certain runic charms were
believed capable of breaking the bonds of the captive[619]; that
Eorcenberht of Kent was the first who completely put down heathendom in
his kingdom, and destroyed the idols[620]; lastly that at the court of
Eádwini of Northumberland there was a chief priest[621], and, as we may
naturally infer from this, an organized heathen hierarchy.
-----
Footnote 611:
What Tacitus says of the Germans (Germ, ix.) not having temples or
images is to be taken with great caution. It is clear from other
passages of his own work that some tribes had such, even in his time;
yet if rare then, they may easily have become universal in the course
of two or three centuries, particularly among those tribes whom
military service or commerce had gradually rendered familiar with the
religious rites of Rome.
Footnote 612:
These facts are stated in a letter from Gregory to Mellitus, in the
following words: “Cum ergo Deus omnipotens vos ad reverentissimum
virum fratrem nostrum Augustinum episcopum perduxerit, dicite ei quid
diu mecum de causa Anglorum cogitans tractavi, videlicet, quia fana
idolorum destrui in eadem gente minime debeant; sed ipsa, quae in eis
sunt, idola destruantur, aqua benedicta fiat, in eisdem fanis
aspergatur, altaria construantur, reliquiae ponantur. Quia, si fana
eadem bene constructa sunt, necesse est ut a cultu daemonum in
obsequium veri Dei debeant commutari; ut dum gens ipsa eadem fana sua
non videt destrui, de corde errorem deponat, et Deum verum cognoscens
ac adorans ad loca, quae consuevit, familiarius concurrat. Et quia
boves solent in sacrificio daemonum multos occidere, debet eis etiam
hac de re aliqua solemnitas immutari; ut die dedicationis, vel
natalitii sanctorum martyrum, quorum illic reliquiae ponuntur,
tabernacula sibi circa easdem aecclesias, quae ex fanis commutatae
sunt, de ramis arborum faciant, et religiosis conviviis solemnitatem
celebrent, nec diabolo iam animalia immolent, sed ad laudem Dei in esu
suo animalia occidant, et donatori omnium de satietate sua gratias
referant; ut dum eis aliqua exterius gaudia reservantur, ad interiora
gaudia consentire facilius valeant.” Bed. H. E. i. 30.
Footnote 613:
De Natura Rerum, cap. 15.
Footnote 614:
H. E. ii. 5.
Footnote 615:
H. E. ii. 9.
Footnote 616:
H. E. ii. 15.
Footnote 617:
“Coeperunt fana, quae derelicta erant, restaurare, et adorare
simulacra; quasi per haec possent a mortalitate defendi.” H. E. iii.
30.
Footnote 618:
H. E. iv. 27.
Footnote 619:
H. E. iv. 22.
Footnote 620:
H. E. iii. 8. Malmesbury says that he destroyed also their chapels,
“sacella deorum.” De Gest. Reg. lib. i. § 11.
Footnote 621:
H. E. ii. 13.
-----
The poenitentials of the church and the acts of the witena-gemóts are
full of prohibitions directed against the open or secret practice of
heathendom[622]; from them we learn that even till the time of Cnut,
well-worship and tree-worship, the sanctification of places, spells,
philtres and witchcraft, were still common enough to call for
legislative interference; and the heavy doom of banishment, proclaimed
against their upholders, proves how deeply rooted such pagan customs
were in the minds of the people. Still in the Ecclesiastical History of
Beda, in the various works which in later times were founded upon it and
continued it, in the poenitentials and confessionals of the church, in
the acts of the secular assemblies, we look in vain for the sacred names
in which the fanes were consecrated, or for even the slightest hint of
the attributes of the gods whose idols or images had been set up.
Excepting the cursory mention of the two female divinities already
noticed, and one or two almost equally rapid allusions in later
chronicles, we are left almost entirely without direct information
respecting the tenants of the Saxon Pantheon. There are however other
authorities, founded on traditions more ancient than Beda himself, from
which we derive more copious, if not more definite accounts. First among
these are the genealogies of the Anglosaxon kings: these contain a
multitude of the ancient gods, reduced indeed into family relations, and
entered in the grades of a pedigree, but still capable of identification
with the deities of the North and of Germany. In this relation we find
Wóden, Bældæg, Geát, Wig, and Frea. The days of the week, also dedicated
to gods, supply us further with the names of Tiw, Ðunor, Fricge and
Sætere; and the names of places in all parts of England attest the wide
dispersion of their worship. These, as well as the names of plants, are
the admitted signs by which we recognize the appellations of the
Teutonic gods.
-----
Footnote 622:
See these collected in the Appendix at the end of this Volume.
-----
1. WÓDEN, in Old-norse OÞINN, in Old-german WUOTAN.—The royal family of
every Anglosaxon kingdom, without exception, traces its descent from
Wóden through some one or other of those heroes or demigods who are
familiar to us in the German and Scandinavian traditions[623]. But the
divinity of Wóden is abundantly clear: he is both in form and in fact
identical with the Norse Oþinn and the German Wuotan, the supreme god of
all the northern races, whose divinity none will attempt to
dispute[624]. Nor was this his character unknown to our early
chroniclers; Malmesbury, speaking of Hengest and Hors, says: “They were
the great-great-grandsons of that most ancient Wóden, from whom the
royal families of almost all the barbarous nations derive their lineage;
whom the nations of the Angles madly believing to be a god, have
consecrated unto him the fourth day of the week, and the sixth unto his
wife Frea, by a sacrilege which lasts even unto this day[625].” Matthew
of Westminster[626] and Geoffry of Monmouth[627] repeat this with
characteristic variations, both adding, apparently in the words of
Tacitus[628], “Colimus maxime Mercurium, quem Wóden lingua nostra
appellamus.” Æðthelweard, an Anglosaxon nobleman of royal blood, and
thus himself a descendant of Wóden, had previously stated the same thing
after the fashion of his own age,—the tenth century; he says of Hengest
and Hors: “Hi nepotes fuere Uuoddan regis barbarorum, quem post, infanda
dignitate, ut deum honorantes, sacrificium obtulerunt pagani, victoriae
causa sive virtutis[629].” Again, he says: “Wothen, qui et rex multarum
gentium, quem pagani nunc ut deum colunt aliqui.” Thus, according to
him, Wóden was worshiped as the giver of victory, and as the god of
warlike valour. And such is the description given by Adam of Bremen of
the same god, at Upsala in Sweden: “In hoc templo, quod totum ex auro
paratum est, statuas trium deorum veneratur populus, ita ut
potentissimus eorum Thór in medio solum habeat triclinium, hinc et inde
locum possident Wódan et Fricco. Quorum significationes eiusmodi sunt:
Thór, inquiunt, praesidet in aere, qui tonitrus et fulmina, ventos
imbresque, serena et fruges gubernat. Alter Wódan, id est _Fortior_,
bella regit, hominumque ministrat virtutem contra inimicos. Tertius est
Fricco, pacem voluptatemque largiens mortalibus. Cuius etiam simulachrum
fingunt ingenti Priapo. Wódanem vero sculpunt armatum, sicuti nostri
Martem sculpere solent. Thór autem cum sceptro Jovem exprimere videtur.”
The Exeter book names Wóden in a similar spirit:
Hǽðnum synne
Wóden worhte weohs,
wuldor alwealda
rúme roderas[630],
that is, “For the heathen Wóden wrought the sin of idolatry, but the
glorious almighty God the spacious skies:” and an early missionary is
described to have thus taught his hearers: “Wóden vero quem principalem
deum crediderunt et praecipuum Angli, de quo originem duxerant, cui et
quartam feriam consecraverant, hominem fuisse mortalem asseruit, et
regem Saxonum, a quo plures nationes genus duxerant. Huius, inquit,
corpore in pulverem resoluto, anima in inferno sepulta aeternum sustinet
ignem[631].”
-----
Footnote 623:
Roger of Wendover appears however to have made a distinction, which I
do not remember to have found in any other author, in the case of Ælli
of Sussex. He says: “Wodenus igitur ex antiquorum prosapia Germanorum
originem ducens, post mortem inter deos translatus est; quem veteres
pro deo colentes, dedicaverunt ei quartam feriam, quam de nomine eius
Wodenesday, id est diem Wodeni, nuncuparunt. Hic habuit uxorem, nomine
Fream, cui similiter veteres sextam feriam consecrantes, Freday, id
est diem Freæ, appellarunt. Genuit autem Wodenus ex uxore Frea septem
filios inclytos, ex quorum successione septem reges traxerunt
originem, qui in Britannia potenter, expulsis Britannis, postea
regnaverunt. Ex filio Wodeni primogenito, nomine Wecta, reges
Cantuariorum; ex secundo, Frehegeath, reges Merciorum; ex tertio,
Baldao, reges Westsaxonum; ex quarto, Beldago, reges Northanhumbrorum,
sive Berniciorum; ex quinto, Wegdego, reges Deirorum; ex sexto,
Kasero, reges Orientalium Anglorum; ex septimo, Saxnad, reges
Orientalium Saxonum originem habere dicuntur; octavus vero, id est,
rex Australium Saxonum, ex eadem gente, sed non ex eadem stirpe,
originem sumpsit.” Flor. Histor. i. 346.
Footnote 624:
It is a peculiarity of the Old-norse to omit the initial W; thus ormr
for wyrmr, a dragon or serpent: ulfr, for wulfr, a wolf: hence Oþinn
is literally Wóden. The identity of Wuotan is clearly shown in Grimm’s
Deut. Mythol. p. 120, _seq._
Footnote 625:
Will. Malm. De Gest. 1 § 5.
Footnote 626:
Mat. Westm. Flor. Hist. p. 82 (Ed. 1601).
Footnote 627:
Galf. Monum. lib. vi. p. 43 (Ed. 1587).
Footnote 628:
“Deorum maxime Mercurium colunt.” Germ. ix.
Footnote 629:
Æðelw. Chron. lib. ii. cap. 2.
Footnote 630:
Cod. Exon. p. 341.
Footnote 631:
Legend. Nova, fol. 210, b.
-----
To Wóden was dedicated the fourth or mid-day of the week, and it still
retains his name: this among other circumstances tends to the
identification of him with Mercurius[632]. The Old-norse Rúnatale þáttr
which introduces Oþinn declaring himself to be the inventor of
runes[633], is confirmed by the assertion in the dialogue of Salomon and
Saturn, which to the question “Who invented letters?” answers, “I tell
thee, Mercury the giant”—that is, “Wóden the god:” and this is further
evidence of resemblance. A metrical homily in various collections,
bearing the attractive title _De falsis diis_, supplies us with further
proof of this identification, not only with Wóden, but with the Norse
Oþinn: it says,
Sum man was geháten A man there was, called
Mercurius on life, Mercury during life,
se was swíðe fácenful who was very fraudulent
and swícol on dǽdum, and deceitful in deeds,
and lufode eác stala and eke loved thefts
and leásbrednysse: and deception:
ðone macodon ða hǽðenan him the heathen made
him tó mǽran gode, a powerful god for themselves,
and æt wega gelǽtum and by the road-sides
him lác offrodon, made him offerings,
and tó heágum beorgum and upon high hills
him bróhton onsægdnysse. brought him sacrifice.
Ðæs god wæs árwurða This god was honourable
betwux callum hǽðenum, among all the heathen,
and he is Oþon geháten and he is called Odin
óðrum naman on Denisc. by another name in Danish.
. . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .
Ðone feorðan dæg
hí sealdon him tó frófre
ðám foresædan Mercurie
heora mǽran gode[634].
. . . . . . . . . . . .
. . . . . . . . . . . .
The fourth day
they gave for their advantage
to the aforesaid Mercury
their great god.
-----
Footnote 632:
This probably was the case even before any German settlement was made
in Britain. But no argument can be raised on this ground against the
genuineness of the Wóden worship here; because, if the continental
Germans worshiped him, they probably carried his rites with them to
England. We know that he is one of the gods named in the celebrated
formulary of renunciation, which the missionary Christians prepared
for the use of the Saxon converts. Why the _interpretatio Romana_
(Tac. Germ. xliii.) fixed upon Wóden as the corresponding god to
Mercury we do not clearly see: but we are not acquainted with the
rites and legends which may have made this perfectly clear to the
Romans.
Footnote 633:
Namek úpp rúnar: Grimm seems to have some doubt of the accuracy of
this translation. Deut. Myth. p. 136 (edition of 1844), but I think
unnecessarily. At all events the invention of the Hugrúnar, or Runes,
the possession of which makes men dear to their companions, is
distinctly attributed to him in the Edda:
þær of hugdi Hroptr
af þeim legi
er lekiþ hafdi
or havfi Heiddravpnis
ok or horni Hoddropnis.
(Brynh.-qu. i. 13.)
But this is an additional point of approximation to the deities whom
we consider identical with Hermes, and in some respects with Mercury,
as for instance Thoth.
Footnote 634:
MS. Cotton, Julius E. vii. 237, b. etc. See the author’s edition of
Salomon and Saturn, p. 120, _seq._
-----
Thus we have Mercurius, Wóden and Oþinn sufficiently identified. A
careful investigation of the inner spirit of Greek mythology has led
some very competent judges to see a form of Hermes in Odysseus. This
view derives some corroboration from the Teutonic side of the question,
and the relation in which Wóden stands to Mercurius. Even Tacitus had
learnt that Ulixes had visited Germany, and there founded a town which
he called Asciburgium[635]; and without insisting on the probability
that Asciburgium grew out of a German Anseopurc or a Scandinavian
Asgard, it seems not unreasonable to suppose that some tales of Wóden
had reached the ears of the Roman, which seemed to him to resemble the
history of Odysseus and his wanderings. Such a tale we yet possess in
the adventures of Thorkill on his journey to Utgardaloki, narrated by
Saxo Grammaticus, which bears a remarkable likeness to some parts of the
Odyssey[636]; and when we consider Saxo’s very extraordinary mode of
rationalizing ancient mythological traditions, we shall admit at least
the probability of an earlier version of the tale which would be much
more consonant with the suggestion of Tacitus, although this earlier
form has unfortunately not survived. Wóden is, like Odysseus,
preeminently the _wanderer_; he is Gangradr, Gangleri, the restless,
moving deity. Even the cloak, hood or hat in which Oþinn is always
clad[637] reminds us both of the _petasus_ of Hermes and the broad hat
which Odysseus generally wears on ancient gems and pottery. That Wóden
was worshiped _æt wega gelǽtum_, and that he was the peculiar patron of
boundaries, again recalls to us this function of Hermes, and the Ἔρμαια.
When we hear that offerings were brought to him upon the lofty hills, we
are reminded that there was an ἄκριος, or Mountain Hermes too, though
little known; and the Ἑρμῆς προμάχος, perhaps as little known as his
mountain brother, answers to the warlike, victory-giving deity of our
forefathers in his favourite form.
-----
Footnote 635:
“Ceterum et Ulixen quidam opinantur longo illo et fabuloso errore in
hunc Oceanum delatum adiisse Germaniae terras, Asciburgiumque, quod in
ripa Rheni situm hodieque incolitur, ab illo constitutum nominatumque.
Aram quinetiam Ulixi consecratam adiecto Laertae patris nomine eodem
loco olim repertam, monimentaque et tumulos quosdam Graecis litteris
inscriptos in confinio Germaniae Rhaetiaeque adhuc exstare. Quae neque
confirmare argumentis, neque refellere in animo est; ex ingenio suo
quisque demat vel addat fidem.” Germ. iii.
Footnote 636:
Saxo Gram. Hist. Dan. lib. viii.
Footnote 637:
Oþinn is called heklumaðr, _the man with the cloak_. Forn. Sög. i.
325. “Kom þar maðr gamall, miök orðspakr, einsýnn [Oþinn was
_one-eyed_ only] ok augdapr, ok hafði hatt sídan.” Fornman. Sög. ii.
138. “Sá hann mann mikinn með síðum hetti ... ók þotti konúngi gaman
æt ræðum hans, þviat hann kunni af öllum löndum tiðindi at segja.”
Fornman. Sög. v. 250. He is called Síðhöttr even in the Edda. Through
this cloak or _Hackle_, Wóden becomes _Hacleberend_ or _Hackleberg_,
who rides at the head of the Wilde Jagd or wild hunt.
-----
From the godlike or heroic sons of Wóden descend all the races qualified
to reign, and some of those whose names are found in the Anglosaxon
genealogies may be easily recognised in the mythological legends of the
continent. In some one or other of his forms he is the _eponymus_ of
tribes and races: thus, as Geát or through Geát, he was the founder of
the Geátas; through Gewis, of the Gewissas; through Scyld, of the
Scyldingas, the Norse Skjoldungar; through Brand, of the Brondingas;
perhaps through Bætwa, of the Batavians[638]. It seems indeed not wholly
improbable that every name in the merely mythical portion of the
genealogies represents some particular tribe, under the distinctive
appellation of its tutelar god or hero; and that we may thus be led in
some degree to a knowledge of the several populations which coalesced to
form the various kingdoms.
-----
Footnote 638:
The MS. lists read Tætwa, but as the alliteration which prevails in
those pedigrees fails in this instance, Grimm threw out the suggestion
that the original reading was Bætwa. Selden, in the English Janus, p.
9, cites Heuter de vet. Belgio, lib. ii. cap. 8, for Bato (Bætwa) the
eponymus of the Batavians, but this does not appear to rest upon any
sound authority. On the subject of the names of Wóden, and the
Anglosaxon genealogies, the reader may consult a tract of the
author’s, Die Stammtafel der Westsachsen, Munich 1836, and Beówulf,
vol. ii., the Postscript to the Preface: together with a review of the
first-named book by Jacob Grimm, in the Göttinger Gel. Anz. for 1836.
-----
Legends describing the adventures of Wóden either in a godlike or heroic
form were probably not wanting here, or in Germany; it is only in
Scandinavia that a portion of these have been preserved, unless the
tales of Geát and Sceaf, to be hereafter noticed, are in reality to be
referred to him. Equally probable is it that he had in this country
temples, images and religious rites, traces of which we find upon the
continent[639]; and that trees, animals and places were consecrated to
him[640]. So numerous indeed are the latter, so common in every part of
England are names of places compounded with his name, that we must admit
his worship to have been current throughout the island: it seems
impossible to doubt that in every quarter there were localities (usually
rising ground) either dedicated to him, or supposed to be under his
especial protection; and thus that he was here, as in Germany, the
supreme god whom the Saxons, Franks and Alamans concurred in worshiping.
The following names of places may all be unhesitatingly attributed to
this cause, and they attest the general recognition and wide dispersion
of Wóden’s influence.
-----
Footnote 639:
The ancient Germans sacrificed human victims to him. “Deorum maxime
Mercurium colunt, cui certis diebus humanis quoque hostiis litare fas
habent.” Tac. Germ. xxxix. “Victores diversam aciem Marti ac Mercurio
sacravere, quo voto equi, viri, cuncta victa occidioni dantur.” Tac.
Annal. xiii. 57. King Ane or Avn the old, offered up in succession
nine of his sons to Oþinn, to increase the length of his own life.
Yngling. Sag. cap. xxix.; Geijer, Gesch. Schwed. i. 416. “Sunt etenim
inibi vicinae nationes Suevorum; quo cum moraretur et inter
habitatores illius loci progrederetur, reperit eos sacrificium
profanum litare velle, vasque magnum, quod vulgo cupam vocant, quod
viginti et sex modios amplius minusve capiebat, cerevisia plenum in
medio habebant positum. Ad quod vir dei accessit et sciscitatur, quid
de illo fieri vellent? Illi aiunt: deo suo Wodano, quem Mercurium
vocant alii, se velle litare.” Ion. Bobbiensis Vita Columbani. Compare
also what Saxo Grammaticus says of the immense tub of beer which
Hunding prepared to celebrate the obsequies of Hadding. Hist. Dan. p.
19. On festal occasions it was usual to drink to the health, _love_ or
_minne_ of the gods. Oþinn was generally thus honoured: the custom was
preserved among Christians, who drank _minne_ to St. John, St. Martin,
St. Gertrude and other saints. Grimm, Myth. p. 53 _seq._
Footnote 640:
Wolves and ravens appear to have been Oþinn’s sacred animals: the
Saxon legends do not record anything on this subject; but here and
there we do hear of _sacred_ trees, which may possibly have been
dedicated to this god: thus the Wónác (Cod. Dipl. No. 495), the
Wonstoc (Ibid. Nos. 287, 657), “ad quendam fraxinum quem imperiti
sacrum vocant.” Ibid. No. 1052. Respecting the sacred character of the
ash see Grimm, Myth. p. 617.
-----
_Wanborough_, formerly _Wódnesbeorh_, in Surrey, lat. 51° 14´ N., long.
38´ W., placed upon the water-shed which throws down streams to north
and south, and running from east to west, divides the county of Surrey
into two nearly equal portions, once perhaps two petty kingdoms; the
range of hills now called the Hog’s-back. It is a little to the north of
the ridge, nearly on the summit; the springs of water are peculiarly
pure and never freeze. In all probability it has been in turn a sacred
site for every religion that has been received in Britain. _Wanborough_,
formerly _Wódnesbeorh_ in Wiltshire, lat. 51° 33´ N., long. 1° 42´ W.,
about 3½ miles S.E. of Swindon, placed upon the watershed which throws
down the Isis to the north, and Kennet to the south. _Woodnesborough_,
formerly _Wódnesbeorh_, in Kent, lat. 51° 16´ N., long. 1° 29´ E.,
throwing down various small streams to north and south, into the Stour
and the sea. _Wonston_ (probably _Wódnesstán_) in Hampshire, lat. 51°
10´ N., long. 1° 20´ W., from which small streams descend to north and
south, into the Test and Itchen. _Wambrook_ (probably _Wódnesbróc_) in
Dorsetshire. _Wampool_ (probably _Wódnespól_) in Cumberland. _Wansford_
(probably _Wódnesford_) in Northamptonshire. _Wansford_ in the East
Riding of Yorkshire. _Wanstead_ (probably _Wódnesstede_) an old Roman
station in Essex. _Wanstrow_, formerly _Wódnestreów_ _Wanborough_ or
_Warnborough_, formerly _Wódnesbeorh_, two parishes in Hampshire.
_Wembury_, formerly _Wódnesbeorh_, in Devonshire. _Wonersh_ (probably
_Wódnesersc_), a parish at the foot of the Hog’s-back, a few miles from
Wanborough. _Wansdike_, formerly _Wódnesdíc_, an ancient dike or
fortification, perhaps the boundary between different kingdoms: it
extended in a direction from east to west through more than one of our
southern counties. Its remains are visible three or four miles W.S.W. of
Malmesbury in Wiltshire, and it crosses the northern part of Somerset
from the neighbourhood of Bath to Portshead on the Bristol Channel,
where it ends in lat. 51° 29´ N., long. 2° 47´ W.
In addition to these references, which might be made far more numerous,
if necessary, we have many instances in the boundaries of charters, of
trees, stones and posts set up in Wóden’s name, and apparently with the
view of giving a religious sanction to the divisions of land. In this,
as in other respects, we find a resemblance to Hermes. It is also to be
borne in mind that many hills or other natural objects may in fact have
been dedicated to this god, though bearing more general names, as
Ósbeorh, Godeshyl and so forth.
One of the names of Odin in the Old-norse mythology is _Osk_, which by
an etymological law is equivalent to the German _Wunsch_, the Anglosaxon
_Wisc_, and the English _Wish_. Grimm has shown in the most convincing
manner that _Wunsch_ may be considered as a name of Wuotan in
Germany[641]; and it is probable that _Wúsc_ or _Wísc_ may have had a
similar power here. Among the names in the mythical genealogies we find
Wúscfreá, _the lord of the wish_, and I am even inclined to the belief
that Oisc, equivalent to Ésk, the founder of the Kentish line of kings,
may be a Jutish name of Wóden in this form,—ésc, or in an earlier form
óski, _i. e._ Wunsch, Wýsc[642]. In Devonshire to this day all magical
or supernatural dealings go under the common name of _Wishtness_: can
this have any reference to Wóden’s name Wýsc? So again a bad or
unfortunate day is a _wisht_ day: perhaps a diabolical, heathen,
accursed day. There are several places which appear to be compounded
with this name; among them: _Wishanger_ (_Wíschangra_ or Wóden’s
meadow), one, about four miles S.W. of Wanborough in Surrey, and another
near Gloucester; _Wisley_ (_Wíscleáh_) also in Surrey; _Wisborough_
(probably _Wíscbeorh_) in Sussex; _Wishford_ (probably _Wíscford_) in
Wiltshire.
-----
Footnote 641:
Deut. Myth. p. 126 _seq._
Footnote 642:
Oisc in the form in which the earliest authorities give this name. Æsc
is certainly later, and may have been adopted only when the original
meaning of Oisc had become forgotten.
-----
2. ÞUNOR, in Old-norse ÞORR, in Old-german DONAR.—The recognition of
Ðunor in England was probably not very general at first: the settlement
of Danes and Norwegians in the ninth and following centuries may have
extended it in the northern districts. But though his name is not found
in the genealogies of the kings, there was an antecedent probability
that some traces of his worship would be found among the Saxons. Thunar
is one of the gods whom the Saxons of the continent were called upon to
renounce, and a total abnegation of his authority was not to be looked
for even among a race who considered Wóden as the supreme god. That the
fifth day of the week was called by his name is well known: Thursday is
Ðunres dæg, _dies Jovis_; and he is the proper representative of
Jupiter, inasmuch as he must be considered in the light of the
thundering god, an elemental deity, powerful over the storms, as well as
the fertilizing rains[643]. His peculiar weapon, the mace or hammer,
seems to denote the violent, crushing thunderbolt, and the Norse myth
represents it as continually used against the giants or elemental gods
of the primal world. In a composition whose antiquity it is impossible
to ascertain, we may still discover an allusion to this point: in the
Christian Ragna Ravk, or _Twilight of the Gods_, it was believed that a
personal conflict would take place between the divinity and a devil, the
emissary and child of Satan: in the course of this conflict, it is said:
“se Ðunor hit þyrsceð mid ðǽre fýrenan æxe,” the thunder will thresh it
with the fiery axe[644]; and I am inclined to see a similar allusion in
the Exeter Book, where the lightning is called _rynegiestes wæpn_, the
weapon of Avkv Ðórr, the _car-borne god_, Thunder[645].
-----
Footnote 643:
See the quotation from Adam of Bremen, p. 337.
Footnote 644:
Salomon and Saturn, pp. 148, 177.
Footnote 645:
Cod. Exon. p. 386. l. 8.
-----
The names of places which retain a record of Ðunor are not very
numerous, but some are found: among them _Thundersfield_, Ðunresfeld, in
Surrey[646]; _Thundersley_, Ðunresleáh, in Essex, near Saffron Walden;
_Thundersley_, Ðunresleáh, also in Essex, near Raylegh, and others in
Hampshire[647]. Near Wanborough in Surrey is _Thursley_, which may have
been a Ðunresleáh also: it is unlikely that it was ever Ðóresleáh, from
Ðórr (the Norse form of Ðunor), but it might have been Ðyrsleáh, the
meadow of the giant or monster. Very near Thursley is a hill called
_Thunder hill_, probably Ðunres hyl. A similar uncertainty hangs over
_Thurleigh_ in Bedfordshire, _Thurlow_ in Essex, _Thursby_ in
Cumberland, _Thursfield_ in Staffordshire, and _Thursford_ in
Norfolk[648]. The name of Ðunor was, to the best of my knowledge, never
borne by any man among the Anglosaxons, which is in some degree an
evidence of its high divinity. The only apparent exception to this
assertion is found in an early tale which bears throughout such strong
marks of a mythical character as to render it probable that some legend
of Ðunor was current in England; especially as its locality is among the
Jutish inhabitants of Kent. According to this account, Ecgbert the son
of Eorcenberht, the fourth Christian king of Kent, had excluded his
cousins from the throne, and fearing their popularity determined on
removing them by violence. The thane Thuner divined and executed the
intentions of his master. Under the king’s own throne were the bodies
concealed; but a light from heaven which played about the spot revealed
the crime: the king paid to their sister the wergyld of the slain
princes: a hind, let loose, defined the boundaries of the grant which
was to make compensation for the murder: forty-eight hides of land thus
became the property of Domneva, and the repentant king erected upon them
a monastery. The assassin Thuner, however, added to his guilt the still
higher atrocity of sneering at the king’s repentance and its fruits: the
earth suddenly opened beneath his feet and swallowed him; while the
church placed the names of his victims, Æðelred and Æðelberht, on the
list of its martyrs. Any comment upon this, as a historical transaction,
would be perfectly superfluous, but it may possibly contain some
allusion of a mythological nature; for it seems that the very fact of
Ðunor’s not being a god generally worshiped in England, would render him
likely to form the foundation of heroic stories. I will not absolutely
say that the dragon-slaughter of Beówulf is a direct reference to the
myth of Ðunor, though this is possible. Another hero of Anglosaxon
tradition bears the name of the “Wandering Wolf;” he slew
five-and-twenty dragons at daybreak, “on dæg-ræd;” and fell dead from
their poison, as Thórr does after slaying Midgard’s orm, and Beówulf
after his victory over the firedrake. The wolf however is a sacred beast
of Wóden, and these names of Wandering wolf, Mearcwulf, etc. may have
some reference to him, especially as we learn from Grimm that in some
parts of Denmark the wild huntsman, who is unquestionably Wóden, bears
the name of the flying Marcolf[649]. The heathen character of the whole
relation is proved by the fact of the “famous sailor on the sea,” the
“wandering wolf” being represented as the friend of Nebrond, probably
Nimrod[650].
-----
Footnote 646:
Cod. Dipl. Nos. 270, 314, 363, 413.
Footnote 647:
Cod. Dipl. Nos. 450, 781, 784, 1022, 1038. Some of these are not in
Essex, but Hampshire.
Footnote 648:
The analogy of Thursday, which was unquestionably Thundersday, must be
allowed its weight in considering these local names. Even Ðyrs itself,
at one period of Anglosaxon development, might represent Ðunor, and
the resemblance of names thus lead to a little straining of the true
one.
Footnote 649:
Deut. Myth. p. 530 (ed. 1835).
Footnote 650:
Sal. Sat. p. 156.
-----
One of the names by which Ðunor is known in Germany is Hamar[651], which
was perhaps originally derived from his weapon. This has become almost
synonymous with _devil_. Perhaps the same allusion lurks in one or two
names of places in England: in the immediate neighbourhood of Thursley
in Surrey, and at a short distance from Thunderhill, are some ponds
known by the name of the _Hammer-ponds_. It is remarkable that within
two or three miles of Thursley and the Hammer-ponds, three singular
natural mounds which form most conspicuous objects upon a very wild and
desert heath, should bear the name of the Devil’s Jumps, while at a
short distance a deep valley is known by that of the Devil’s Punchbowl,
probably at some early period, the Devil’s Cup, Ðunres-cup or the
Hamar-cup. The word Hamarden occurs in the boundaries of charters[652];
and other places recall the same name: thus _Hameringham_ in Lincoln,
_Hamerton_ in Huntingdon, _Homerton_ in Middlesex (hardly _Hammersmith_
in Middlesex), _Hamerton Green_ in Yorkshire, _Hamerton Kirk_ in
Yorkshire, _Hammerwick_ in Staffordshire.
-----
Footnote 651:
Deut. Myth. p. 166.
Footnote 652:
Cod. Dipl. Nos. 999, 1039, 1189.
-----
3. TIW, the Old-norse TYR, and Old-german ZIU.—The third day of the week
bears among us the name of the god Tíw, the Old-norse Týr. In like
manner we find him also giving his name to places. In the neighbourhood
so often referred to in this chapter, and which seems to have been a
very pantheon of paganism[653], not far from Thursley or from
Wanborough, we find _Tewesley_, which I have no scruple to pronounce the
ancient Tíwesleáh. Tísleáh[654] seems to denote the same name, and it is
probable that even a race acknowledged this god as its founder,—the
Tiwingas, who gave their name to _Tewing_ in Herts. Tiwes mére[655]
seems to be the _mere_ or lake of Tiw, and in another charter we have
also Teówes þorn[656], which goes far towards substantiating the German
form Ziu.
-----
Footnote 653:
In a circuit of a few miles (taken from Elstead with a radius perhaps
of not more than four) we have Wanborough, Polstead, Thursley, the
Hammer-ponds, Waverley, Tewesley, Thunderhill, Dragonhill, Wonersh,
the Devil’s Jumps, the Devil’s Punchbowl, Wishanger, Eshing, Loseley
(Loces leáh ?), Godalming (Godhelminghám), and—as I believe, in close
connexion with these—Gyldhill, Guildford, Guilddown, Frensham
(Fremeshám), Tilford, Tilhill, Markwick, Ash, and Unstead.
Footnote 654:
Cod. Dipl. No. 739.
Footnote 655:
Ibid. No. 262.
Footnote 656:
Ibid. No. 174.
-----
The Anglosaxon glossaries are perfectly accurate when they give the
rendering _Mars_ for Tíw[657], and Tíwesdæg is rightly _dies Martis_. It
cannot be doubted that our forefathers worshiped this god, as a supreme
giver of victory, and especially a god of battle, in some parts of
Scandinavia and Germany; whether or not in England appears doubtful. In
the mythology of the North he is the bravest of the gods, the one who
did not scruple to place his hand in the mouth of the wolf Fenris, when
he demanded a pledge that the gods would unbind the chain they had
forged for him, and on their breach of faith Týr paid the penalty[658].
The Roman historian tells of the Hermunduri having vowed to sacrifice
the beaten Catti to Mercury and Mars, by which vow the whole of the
horses and men belonging to the defeated force were devoted to
slaughter. Jornandes says of the Goths, “Martem semper asperrima
placavere cultura; nam victimae ejus mortes fuere captorum, opinantes
bellorum praesulem aptius humani sanguinis effusione placatum[659].”
Procopius tells the same tale of his Θουλίται, that is the
Scandinavians: τῶν δὲ ἱερείων σφίσι τὸ κάλλιστον ἄνθρωπος ἐστιν, ὅνπερ
ἂν δοριάλωτον ποιήσαιντο πρῶτον· τοῦτον γὰρ τῷ Ἄρει θύουσιν, ἐπεὶ θεὸν
αὐτὸν νομίζουσι μέγιστον εἶναι[660]. The Norse traditions, although they
acknowledge Oþinn as the giver of victory, are still very explicit as to
Týr: he is particularly Wígaguð, _deus praeliorum_, and an especial
granter of success in battle, “rǽðr miöc sigri í orostom[661].” Perhaps
the Tencteri may be added to the number of those who paid an especial
honour to Týr (in German Ziu), since Tacitus makes them say, “communibus
deis et praecipuo deorum Marti grates agimus[662],” where it is not at
all necessary to suppose Wóden is meant; and Grimm has good reason to
number the Suevi among the worshipers of Ziu[663].
-----
Footnote 657:
Mone’s Epinal Glosses gives Tiig, _Mars_, No. 520, and Lye does the
same without a reference, but no doubt from some MS. glossary. The
form is in the same relation to Tiw as Higan to Hiwan, or gesegen
(_visus_) to gesewen; but the long vowel is assured by the double _i_.
Footnote 658:
Hence in Norse he is called the _one-handed_ god, as Oþinn is the
_one-eyed_. The Teutonic gods, unlike the Indian, have not a
superfluity, but on the contrary sometimes a lack, of limbs. It is
otherwise with their horses, etc.
Footnote 659:
Hist. Goth. cap. v.
Footnote 660:
Bell. Goth. ii. 15.
Footnote 661:
Grimm, D. Myth. p. 179.
Footnote 662:
Hist. iv. 64.
Footnote 663:
Deut. Myth. pp. 180, 181.
-----
The Anglosaxon runic alphabet, which in several letters recalls the
names or attributes of the ancient gods, uses Tír for T: the German
runes wanting a Z = T, apply Ziu: there is however another rune, similar
in shape to the runic T, but having the power of EA; this bears the name
of Ear, but sometimes also in MSS. that of Tír: there are etymological
grounds on which the word Tír, _gloria_, must be connected with Tíw, and
we are hence led to the supposition that Ear may have been another name
for that god. This gains a great importance when we bear in mind that in
some parts of south Germany, the third day of the week is called, not
Zistag, but Ertag, Eritag, Erichtag, for which we should indeed have
expected Erestag: and when we find in Saxon Westphalia an undeniably
heathen spot called Eresburg, _Mons Martis_, now Mersberg, i. e.
Eresberg, the hill of Er, Ziu or Mars.
Now the Anglosaxon poem on the runic characters has something to tell us
of Ear. It says of him,
Ear bið égle
eorla gehwylcum,
ðonne fæstlíce
flǽsc onginneð
hrá cólian,
hrúsan ceósan
blác to gebeddan.
Blǽda gedréosað,
wynna gewítað,
wera geswícað[664].
that is, “Ear is a terror to every man, when fast the flesh, the corpse
beginneth to become cold and pale to seek the earth for a consort. Joy
faileth, pleasure departeth, engagements cease.” It is clear that Ear,
_spica_, _arista_, will not explain this, and we may believe that our
forefathers contemplated the personal intervention of some deity whose
contact was death. This may have been Tíw or Ear, especially in the
battle-field, and here he would be equivalent to the Ἄρης βροτολοιγός
μιαιφόνος of Homer.
-----
Footnote 664:
On the Runes of the Anglosaxons, by J. M. Kemble. Archaeologia, vol.
xxviii.
-----
More than this we shall hardly succeed in rescuing: but there yet
remains a name to consider, which may possibly have tended to banish the
more heathen one of Tíw. Among all the expressions which the Anglosaxons
used to denote a violent death, none is more frequent than wíg fornam,
or wíg gesceód, in which there is an obvious personality, Wíg (_War_)
ravished away the doomed: here no doubt _war_ was represented as
personally intervening, and slaying, as in other similar cases we find
the feminines Hild, Gúð, which are of the same import, and the
masculines Swylt, Deáð, _mors_. The abstract sense which also lay in the
word _wíg_, and enabled it to be used without offence to Christian ears,
may have been a reason for its general adoption in cases where at an
earlier period Tíw would have been preferred. Old glossaries give us the
rendering Wíg _Mars_, and Hild, _Bellona_: it is therefore not at all
improbable that these words were purposely selected to express what
otherwise must have been referred to a god of perilous influence: Wíg
was a more general, and therefore less dangerous name than Tíw, to
recall to the memory of a people prone to apostasy. That the latter
survived in the name of a weekday serves only to show that it was too
deeply grounded to be got rid of; perhaps its very familiarity in that
particular relation rendered it safe to retain the name of any deity, as
was done by five out of the seven days. But Christianity was tolerant of
heathen names in other than heathen functions, and in the genealogy of
the kings of Wessex, Wíg is the father of Gewis, the eponymus of the
race. I have already expressed my belief that this name represented
either Wóden or Tíw, and think it very likely that it was the latter,
inasmuch as the paganism of the Gewissas seems to have been remarkable,
beyond that of other Anglosaxon tribes: “Sed Britanniam perveniens, ac
primum Gewissorum gentem ingrediens, cum omnes ibidem paganissimos
inveniret,” etc.[665] “Intrante autem episcopo in portum occidentalium
Saxonum, gentem qui antiquitus Gewisse vocabantur, cum omnes ibidem
paganissimos inveniret,” etc.[666] The events described are of the year
634. We find that Tíw enters into the composition of the names of a few
plants[667]; on the other hand it is never found in the composition of
proper names, any more than Tír; although _now_ Tírberht or Tírwulf
would seem quite as legitimate compounds as Eádberht, Sigeberht,
Eádwulf, Sigewulf.
-----
Footnote 665:
Beda, Hist. Ecc. iii. 7.
Footnote 666:
Johann. Tynem. Legend. Nova, fol. 38.
Footnote 667:
Thus Old-norse Týsfiola, Týrhjalm, Týsviðr.
-----
FREÁ, in Old-norse FREYR, in Old-german FRO.—The god whom the Norse
mythology celebrates under the name of Freyer must have borne among us
the name of Freá. It is probable that he enjoyed a more extensive
worship in all parts of Europe than we can positively demonstrate. At
present we are only enabled to assert that the principal seat of his
worship was at Upsala among the Swedes. In general there is not much
trace in the North of phallic gods; but an exception must be made at
once in the case of Freyr. One of the most beautiful poems of the
Edda[668] tells how Freyr languished for desire of the beautiful Gerdr;
it was for her love that he lost the sword, the absence of which brings
destruction upon him in the twilight of the Gods. The strongest evidence
of his peculiar character is found in the passage already cited from
Adam of Bremen[669], and what he says of the shape under which Frea was
represented at Upsala: “Tertius est Fricco, pacem, voluptatemque
largiens mortalibus; cujus etiam simulachrum fingunt ingenti Priapo.”
The fertilizing rains, the life-bringing sunshine, the blessings of
fruitfulness and peace were the peculiar gifts of Freyr[670]; and from
Adam of Bremen again we learn that he was the god of marriage: “Si
nuptiae celebrandae sunt, sacrificia offerunt Fricconi.” In his car he
travelled through the land, accompanied by a choir of young and blooming
priestesses[671], and wherever he came plenty and peace abounded. The
beast sacred to Freyr was the boar, and it is not improbable that
various customs and superstitions connected with this animal may have
had originally to do with his worship. It is not going too far to assert
that the boar’s head which yet forms the ornament of our festive tables,
especially at Christmas, may have been inherited from heathen days, and
that the vows made upon it, in the middle ages, may have had their
sanction in ancient paganism. But it is as an amulet that we most
frequently meet with the boar in Anglosaxon. Tacitus says of the Æstyi,
that, in imitation of the Suevish custom, “Matrem deum venerantur;
insigne superstitionis, formas aprorum gestant. Id pro armis omnium que
tutela; securum deae cultorem etiam inter hostes praestat[672].” The
relation between Freá and the _Mater deorum_ is a near one. Now the
Anglosaxon poems consider a boar’s form or figure so essential a portion
of the helmet, that they use the word eofor, _aper_part of the armour:
hét ðá inberan he commanded them to bring in
eofor heáfordsegn, the boar (i. e. helmet) the
heaðosteápne helm. ornament of the head,
the helmet lofty in battle[673].
And still more closely, with reference to the virtues of this sign:
eoforlíc scionon the forms of boars they seemed
ofer hleor beran above their cheeks to bear
gehroden golde, adorned with gold,
fáh and fýrheard various and hardened in the fire
ferhwearde heóld. it held the guard of life[674].
And again:
ac se hwíta helm but the white helmet
hafelan werede, guarded the head,
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
since geweorðad, adorned with treasure,
befongen freawrásnum, set about with lordly signs,
swá hine fyrndagum as it in days of yore
worhte wæpna smið, the armourer made,
wundrum teóde, wondrously produced,
besette swínlícum, set it about with shapes of
ðæt hine syððan nó boars,
brond né beadomecas that afterwards neither
bítan né meahton. brand nor warknife
might penetrate it[675].
Grimm citing this passage goes so far as even to render “freá wrasnum”
by _Frothonis signis_, and thus connects it at once with Frea[676]; and
we may admit at all events the great plausibility of the suggestion. But
though distinct proof of Freá's worship in England cannot be supplied
during the Saxon period, we have very clear evidence of its still
subsisting in the thirteenth century. The following extraordinary story
is found in the Chronicle of Lanercost[677], an. 1268. “Pro fidei
divinae integritate servanda recolat lector quod, cum hoc anno in
Laodonia pestis grassaretur in pecudes armenti, quam vocant usitate
Lungessouth, quidam bestiales, habitu claustrales non animo, docebant
idiotas patriae ignem confrictione de lignis educere et simulachrum
Priapi statuere, et per haec bestiis succurrere. Quod cum unus laicus
Cisterciencis apud Fentone fecisset ante atrium aulae, ac intinctis
testiculis canis in aquam benedictam super animalia sparsisset, ac pro
invento facinore idolatriae dominus villae a quodam fideli argueretur,
ille pro sua innocentia obtendebat, quod ipso nesciente et absente
fuerant haec omnia perpetrata, et adiecit, et cum ad usque hunc mensem
Junium aliorum animalia languerent et deficerent, mea semper sana erant,
nunc vero quotidie mihi moriuntur duo vel tria, ita quod agricultui
pauca supersunt.”
-----
Footnote 668:
För Skirnis. The legend of Geát and Mæðhild however must have been of
this character: and thus Wóden may have been in some sort a phallic
Hermes.
Footnote 669:
M. Adami Bremensis lib. de situ Daniae. Ed. 1629, p. 23. Ihre, in his
Gloss. Sueogoth. mentions forms dug up in the North which clearly
prove the prevalence of phallic rites.
Footnote 670:
See Grimm, Mythol. p. 193 _seq._
Footnote 671:
Fornman. Sög. ii. 73 _seq._
Footnote 672:
Germ. xlv.
Footnote 673:
Beów. l. 4299 _seq._
Footnote 674:
Beów. l. 604 _seq._
Footnote 675:
Ibid. l. 2895.
Footnote 676:
Mythol. p. 195.
Footnote 677:
Edited in 1839 by the Rev. J. Stevenson for the members of the
Bannatyne and Maitland Clubs.
-----
Fourteen years later a similar fact is stated to have occurred in a
neighbouring district, at Inverkeithing, in the present county of Fife.
“Insuper hoc tempore apud Inverchethin, in hebdomada paschae [Mar.
29-Ap. 5], sacerdos parochialis, nomine Johannes, Priapi prophana
parans, congregatis ex villa puellulis, cogebat eas, choreis factis,
Libero patri circuire; ut ille feminas in exercitu habuit, sic iste,
procacitatis causa, membra humana virtuti seminariae servientia super
asserem artificiata ante talem choream praeferebat, et ipse tripudians
cum cantantibus motu mimico omnes inspectantes et verbo impudico ad
luxuriam incitabat. Hi, qui honesto matrimonio honorem deferebant, tam
insolente officio, licet reverentur personam, scandalizabant propter
gradus eminentiam. Si quis ei seorsum ex amore correptionis sermonen
inferret, fiebat deterior, et conviciis eos impetebat.”
It appears that this priest retained his benefice until his death, which
happened in a brawl about a year later than the events described above;
and it is very remarkable that the scandal seems to have been less at
the rites themselves than at their being administered by a person of so
high a clerical dignity. Grimm had identified Freyr or Frowo with Liber:
it will be observed that his train of reasoning is confirmed by the name
Liber Pater, given in the chronicler’s recital. The union of the
_Needfire_ with these Priapic rites renders it proper to devote a few
words to this particular superstition.
The needfire, nýdfýr, New-german nothfeuer, was called from the mode of
its production, _confrictione de lignis_, and though probably common to
the Kelts[678] as well as Teutons, was long and well known to all the
Germanic races at a certain period. All the fires in the village were to
be relighted from the virgin flame produced by the rubbing together of
wood, and in the highlands of Scotland and Ireland it was usual to drive
the cattle through it, by way of lustration, and as a preservative
against disease[679]. But there was another curious ceremony connected
with the lighting of fires on St. John’s eve,—probably from the context,
on the 23rd of June. A general reference for this may be made to Grimm’s
Mythologie, pp. 570-592, under the general heads of Nothfeuer, Bealtine
and Johannisfeuer; but the following passage, which I have not seen
cited before, throws light on Grimm’s examples, and adds some
peculiarities of explanation. It is found in an ancient MS. written in
England and now in the Harleian collection, No. 2345, fol. 50.
-----
Footnote 678:
See Jamieson’s Scottish Dictionary, voc. _Beltane_, and Boucher’s
Glossary by Stevenson.
Footnote 679:
In the Mirror of June 24th, 1826, there is the account of this having
been done in Perthshire, on occasion of a cattle epidemic. “A wealthy
old farmer, having lost several of his cattle by some disease very
prevalent at present, and being able to account for it in no way so
rationally as by witchcraft, had recourse to the following remedy,
recommended to him by a weird sister in his neighbourhood, as an
effectual protection from the attacks of the foul fiend. A few stones
were piled together in the barnyard, and woodcoals having been laid
thereon, the fuel was ignited by _will-fire_, that is fire obtained by
friction; the neighbours having been called in to witness the
solemnity, the cattle were made to pass through the flames, in the
order of their dignity and age, commencing with the horses and ending
with the swine. The ceremony having been duly and decorously gone
through, a neighbouring farmer observed to the enlightened owner of
the herd, that he, along with his family, ought to have followed the
example of the cattle, and the sacrifice to Baal would have been
complete.” The _will-fire_ has been used in Devonshire for the same
purpose, within the memory of man.
-----
“Eius venerandam nativitatem cum gaudio celebrabitis; dico eius
nativitatem cum gaudio; non illo cum gaudio, quo stulti, vani et
prophani, amatores mundi huius, accensis ignibus, per plateas, turpibus
et illicitis ludibus, commessationibus, et ebrietatibus, cubilibus et
impudicitiis intendentes illam celebrare solent.... Dicamus de tripudiis
quae in vigilia sancti Johannis fieri solent, quorum tria genera. In
vigilia enim beati Johannis colligunt pueri in quibusdam regionibus
ossa, et quaedam alia immunda, et insimul cremant, et exinde producitur
fumus in aere. Faciunt etiam brandas et circuunt arva cum brandis.
Tercium de rota quam faciunt volvi: quod, cum immunda cremant, hoc
habent ex gentilibus. Antiquitus enim dracones in hoc tempore
excitabantur ad libidinem propter calorem, et volando per aera
frequenter spermatizabantur aquae, et tunc erat letalis, quia quicumque
inde bibebant, aut moriebantur, aut grave morbum paciebantur. Quod
attendentes philosophi, iusserunt ignem fieri frequenter et sparsim
circa puteos et fontes, et immundum ibi cremari, et quaecumque immundum
reddiderunt fumum, nam per talem fumum sciebant fugari dracones.... Rota
involvitur ad significandum quod sol tunc ascendit ad alciora sui
circuli et statim regreditur, inde venit quod volvitur rota.”
An ancient marginal note has _bonfires_, intending to explain that word
by the bones burnt on such occasions. Grimm seems to refer this to the
cult of Baldr or Bældæg, with which he connects the name Beltane; but
taking all the circumstances into consideration, I am inclined to
attribute it rather to Freá, if not even to a female form of the same
godhead, Fricge, the Aphrodite of the North. Freá seems to have been a
god of boundaries; probably as the giver of fertility and increase, he
gradually became looked upon as a patron of the fields. On two occasions
his name occurs in such boundaries, and once in a manner which proves
some tree to have been dedicated to him. In a charter of the year 959 we
find these words: “ðonne andlang herpaðes on Frigedæges treów,”—thence
along the road to Friday’s (that is Frea’s) tree[680]; and in a similar
document of the same century we have a boundary running “oð ðone
Frigedæg.” There is a place yet called Fridaythorpe, in Yorkshire. Here
Frigedæg appears to be a formation precisely similar to Bældæg, Swæfdæg,
and Wægdæg, and to mean only Freá himself.
-----
Footnote 680:
Cod. Dipl. No. 1221.
-----
BALDÆG, in Old-norse BALDR, in Old-german PALTAC.—The appearance of
Bældæg among Wóden’s sons in the Anglosaxon genealogies, would naturally
lead us to the belief that our forefathers worshiped that god whom the
Edda and other legends of the North term Baldr, the father of Brand, and
the Phœbus Apollo of Scandinavia. Yet beyond these genealogies we have
very little evidence of his existence. It is true that the word
_bealdor_ very frequently occurs in Anglosaxon poetry as a peculiar
appellative of kings,—nay even as a name of God himself,—and that it is,
as far as we know, indeclinable, a sign of its high antiquity. This word
may then probably have obtained a general signification which at first
did not belong to it, and been retained to represent a king, when it had
ceased to represent a god. There are a few places in which the name of
Balder can yet be traced: thus Baldersby in Yorkshire, Balderston in
Lancashire, Bealderesleah and Baldheresbeorh in Wiltshire[681]: of these
the two first may very likely have arisen from Danish or Norwegian
influence, while the last is altogether uncertain. Save in the
genealogies the name Bældæg does not occur at all. But there is another
name under which the Anglosaxons may possibly have known this god, and
that is Pol or Pal.
-----
Footnote 681:
Cod. Dipl. No. 1059, 92.
-----
In the year 1842 a very extraordinary and very interesting discovery was
made at Merseberg upon the spare leaf of a MS. there were found two
metrical spells in the Old-german language: these upon examination were
at once recognized not only to be heathen in their character, but even
to contain the names of heathen gods, perfectly free from the ordinary
process of Christianization. The one with which we are at present
concerned is in the following words:
Phol endi Wódan Phol and Wódan
vuorun zi holza, went to the wood,
da wart demo Balderes volon then of Balder’s colt
sin vuoz birenkit; the foot was wrenched;
thu biguolen Sinthgunt, then Sinthgunt charmed him,
Sunná era suister, and her sister Sunna,
thu biguolen Frúá, then Frua charmed him,
Vollá era suister, and her sister Folla,
thu biguolen Wódan, then Wóden charmed him,
só he wola conda: as he well could do:
sosé bénrenki, sóse bluotrenki, both wrench of bone, and wrench of
sosé lidirenki; blood,
bén zi béna, and wrench of limb;
bluot zi bluoda, bone to bone,
lid zi geliden, and blood to blood,
sóse gelímida sín. limb to limb,
as if they were glued together.
The general character of this poem is one well known to us: there are
many Anglosaxon spells of the same description. What makes this valuable
beyond all that have ever been discovered, is the number of genuine
heathen names that survive in it, which in others of the same kind have
been replaced by other sanctions; and which teach us the true meaning of
those which have survived in the altered form. In a paper read before
the Royal Academy of Sciences in Berlin, Grimm identified Phol with
Baldr[682], and this view he has further developed in the new edition of
his Mythology[683]. It is confirmatory of this view that we possess the
same spell in England, without the heathendom, and where the place of
the god Baldr is occupied by that of our Lord himself. The English
version of the spell runs thus:
The lord rade,
and the foal slade;
He lighted
and he righted;
set joint to joint
and bone to bone,
sinew to sinew.
Heal, in the Holy Ghost’s name[684]!
-----
Footnote 682:
“Ueber zwei entdeckte Gedichte aus der Zeit des deutschen Heidenthums.
Von Jacob Grimm.” Vorgelesen in der Königl. Akademie der
Wissenschaften, am 3 Febr. 1842, pp. 10, 11.
Footnote 683:
Deut. Mythol. p. 205.
Footnote 684:
Chalmers’s Nursery Tales.
-----
It will be admitted that this is something more than a merely curious
coincidence, and that it leads to an induction of no little value. Now
it appears to me that we have reasonable ground to believe our version
quite as ancient and quite as heathen as the German one which still
retains the heathen names, and that we have good right to suppose that
it once referred to the same god. How then was this god named in
England? Undoubtedly Pol or Pal[685]. Of such a god we have some obscure
traces in England. We may pass over the Appolyn and Apollo, whom many of
our early romancers number among the Saxon gods, although the confused
remembrance of an ancient and genuine divinity may have lurked under
this foreign garb, and confine ourselves to the names of places hearing
signs of Pol or Pal. Grimm has shown that the dikes called Phalgraben in
Germany are much more likely to have been originally Pfolgraben, and his
conclusion applies equally to Palgrave, two parishes in Norfolk and
Suffolk:—so Wódnes Díc, and the Devil’s Dike between Cambridge and
Newmarket. Polebrooke in Northamptonshire, Polesworth in Warwickshire,
Polhampton in Hants[686], Polstead in Suffolk, Polstead close under
Wanborough (Wódnesbeorh) in Surrey,—which is remarkable for the
exquisite beauty of its springs of water,—Polsden in Hants, Polsdon in
Surrey, seem all of the same class. To these we must add Polsley and
Polthorn, which last name would seem to connect the god with that
particular tree: last, but not least, we have in Poling, in Sussex, the
record of a race of Polingas, who may possibly have carried up their
genealogy to Bældæg in this form.
Footnote 685:
Though little fond of modern Anglosaxon verses, of modern Latin
hexameters or modern Greek iambics, I shall give a translation of
these two spells, for the purpose of comparison:
Pol and Wóden
tó wuda fóron
Bealdres folan wearð
fót bewrenced;
ða hine Síðgúð begól,
Sunne hire sweoster,
ðá hine Frýe begól,
Folle hire sweoster,
ðá hine Wóden begól
swá he wel cúðe:
swá sý bánwrence, swá sý blodwrence,
swá sý liðwrence;
bán tó báne,
blód tó blóde,
lið tó liðe,
swá swá gelímede sýn.
And thus the English one:
Dryhten rád,
fola slád;
se lihtode
and rihtode;
sette lið tó liðe
eác swá bán to báne,
sinewe tó sinewe.
Hál wes ðú, on ðæs Hálgan Gástes naman!
Footnote 686:
Polhǽmatún. Cod. Dipl. Nos. 642, 752, 1136, 1187. Polesleáh in Wilts.
Cod. Dipl. No. 641. Polstede in Suffolk. Cod. Dipl. No. 685. Polþorn
in Worcester. Cod. Dipl. No. 61. Pollehám, No. 907.
-----
The myth of Baldr in the North is one of the most beautiful and striking
in the whole compass of their mythology: it is to be lamented that no
trace of it remains in our own poems. Still Baldr’s lay may not have
been entirely without influence upon the progress of Christianity among
the Saxons, if, as is probable, it resembled in its main features the
legend of the Scandinavians. For them he was the god of light and grace,
of splendour, manly excellence and manly beauty. A prophecy that Baldr
would perish afflicted the gods; Frigga took an oath from all created
nature that no individual thing would harm the pride of the Æsir, the
darling of the Asyniar. A sprig of mistletoe, at that time too young to
enter into so solemn an obligation, was alone, and fatally, excepted.
The invulnerability of the god induced him to offer himself as a mark
for the practice of his relatives and friends. Maces, axes and spears
fell innocuous from his sacred frame; but Loki placed a sprig of
mistletoe in the hand of the blind Haudr[687], and with this, the sole
thing that could not be forsworn, he slew his brother. An effort still
remained to be made. Oþinn himself descended to the abode of Hel, in
hopes of persuading the goddess of the dead to relinquish her prey. He
was successful, and returned with the joyful intelligence that Baldr
would be restored to the gods, if all created nature would weep for him.
All nature did weep for the loss of the god of beauty, save one old
crone. When called upon to do her part in his restoration she answered,
“What have the gods done for me, that I should weep for Baldr? Let Hel
keep her dead!” It is thought that it was Loki who had assumed the old
woman’s form. Thus Baldr’s fate was sealed. The faithful Nanna[688]
would not survive her beautiful lord, and the gods and goddesses
attended round the pile on which their two cherished companions were
reduced to dust together. But the slain god could hope for no
resurrection: his throne was placed in the shadowy realm of Hel, and
weeping virgins spread the eternal pall that was to give dreary honour
to the god of light in the cold kingdom of darkness and the invisible.
The posthumous son, or more likely re-birth, of the god, avenged his
father upon the wretched instrument of Loki’s wiles. Yet those who had
fathomed the deeper mysteries of the creed knew well enough that Baldr
was to rise again in triumph: after the twilight of the gods and the
destruction of the ancient world, he was to return in glory and joy, and
reign in a world where there should be neither sin nor sorrow, nor
destruction.
-----
Footnote 687:
In Anglosaxon, Heaðo, which however has almost always the abstract
sense of _war_.
Footnote 688:
In Anglosaxon, Nóð: this occurs rarely save in composition, where it
seems to denote bravery or courage. But it is to be observed that nóð
is the name of a ship or large boat; and it is worth inquiry whether
the Teutonic goddess Zíza, probably in Anglosaxon Táte, may not have
been identical with this Nanna, instead of Frouwa. The dragging about
a boat or ship was peculiar to Zíza’s worship. Deut. Myth. p. 237,
_seq._
-----
Of these details, the Anglosaxon mythology knows nothing, in the forms
which have survived: and perhaps in this peculiar myth we may recognize
something of an astronomical character, which can certainly not be
attributed to other Northern legends. However this may be, we must
content ourselves with the traces here given of Pol, as one form of
Baldr, and with the genealogical relation which has been noticed. Meagre
as these facts undoubtedly are, they are amply sufficient to prove that
the most beloved of the Northern gods was not altogether a stranger to
their children in this island. Perhaps the adoption of another creed led
to the absorption of this divinity into a person of far higher and other
dignity, which, while it smoothed the way for the reception of
Christianity, put an end for ever to even the record of his sufferings.
GEÁT, in Old-norse GAUTR, in Old-German KÓZ.—A cursory allusion has
already been made to Geát, probably only another form of Wóden, since in
the mythology of the North, Oþinn is Gaútr, but certainly the eponymus
of the Geátas, that tribe of whom Beówulf was the champion and
afterwards the king. Geát appears in the Westsaxon genealogy as a
progenitor of Wóden, but this collocation is unimportant in mythological
inquiries. It is probable that Gapt, whom Jornandes places at the head
of the Gothic genealogy, is only a misreading of Gavt, which is the
equivalent Gothic form of Geát, and that Sigegeát, Angelgeát, Waðelgeát,
which occur in other Anglosaxon genealogies, are identical with
him[689]. His love for Maðhild, a legend unknown to all the nations of
the North, save our own forefathers, is noticed in the Exeter Book: it
is there said,
We ðæt Mæðhilde To Mǽðhild, we the tale have
monge gefrunon heard, that endless was the
wurdon grundleáse love of Geat, so that the pain
Geátes frige of love took all sleep from
ðæt him seó sorglufu him[690].
slǽp ealle binom.
It is much to be regretted that this is all we learn on this subject,
which becomes very interesting when we remember how little trace there
is of phallic gods in the Northern mythology. But that Geát was a god,
and not merely a hero, is not left entirely to inference: it is
distinctly asserted by various and competent authorities: Nennius has
declared him to have been _filius dei_, not indeed the God of Hosts, and
God of Gods, but of some idol[691]. But Asser, who was no doubt well
acquainted with the traditions of Ælfred’s family, says[692], “Quem
Getam dudum pagani pro deo venerabantur,” which is repeated in the same
words by Florence of Worcester[693] and Simeon of Durham[694], and is
contained in a Saxon genealogy preserved in the Textus Roffensis,
“Geáta, ðene ða hǽðenan wurðedon for God.” We can therefore have no
scruple about admitting his divinity; and a comparison of the Gothic and
Scandinavian traditions proves the belief in it to have been widely
held. The name, which is derived from _geotan_, to pour, most probably
denotes only the special form in which Wóden was worshipped by some
particular tribes or families; and the occurrence of it in the
genealogies, only the fact that such tribes or families formed part of
the national aggregates, to whose royal line it belongs. But
nevertheless we must admit the personality attributed to him by those
tribes, and the probability of his having been, at least for them, the
national divinity. The circumstance of his name having left such deep
traces as we perceive in the quotations given above, proves not only the
especial divinity of the person, but perhaps also the political power
and importance of the worshippers[695].
-----
Footnote 689:
And see Geijer, Gesch. Schwed. i. 30. Gaut, Gautrek, Algaut,
Gauthilld. Yngl. Sag. cap. 38.
Footnote 690:
Cod. Exon. p. 378. If Geát really be Wóden, this is another
approximation to Hermes in his phallic character. Altogether the myth
of the ἱερός γάμος, so constant in Greek mythology, is scarcely
traceable in the North. The Wóden worship, at least, may have had
something more of the character of the Apollo worship among the
Dorians.
Footnote 691:
Nennius, § 31. Huntingdon follows Nennius, Hist. Angl. bk. ii.
Footnote 692:
De Reb. Gest. Ælfredi, an. 849.
Footnote 693:
Flor. Wig. Chron. an. 849.
Footnote 694:
De Reb. Gest. Regum, an. 849.
Footnote 695:
See the author’s edition of Beówulf, vol. ii. Postscript to the
Preface. Leo’s Beówulf, etc.; and Ettmuller’s Beówulf, etc., with the
last of whom, upon the maturest consideration, I find it impossible to
agree.
-----
SÆTERE.—Among the Gods invariably mentioned as having been worshipped by
our forefathers is one who answered to the Latin Saturnus, at least in
name. From the seventh week-day we may infer that his Anglosaxon name
was Sætere, perhaps the _Placer_ or _Disposer_[696]; for Sæteresdæg
seems a more accurate form than Sæternesdæg which we sometimes find.
There are both names of places and of plants formed upon the name of
this god: as Satterthwaite in Lancashire, Satterleigh in Devonshire and
Sæteresbyrig[697] in the same county, of which there appears to be no
modern representative; while among plants the _Gallicrus_, or common
crowfoot, is called in Anglosaxon Satorláðe. The appearance of Saturnus
as an interlocutor in such a dialogue as the Salomon and Saturn[698] is
a further evidence of divinity; so that, taking all circumstances into
account, it is probable that when Gregory of Tours, Geoffry of Monmouth
and others, number him among the Teutonic gods, they are not entirely
mistaken. Now there has been a tradition, in Germany at least, of a god
Chródo, or Hruodo, whose Latin name was Saturn, and whose figure is said
to have been that of an old man standing upon a fish, and holding in one
hand a bundle of flowers, while the other grasps a wheel. Grimm imagines
herein some working of Slavonic traditions[699], and following the
Slavonic interpreters connects this Chródo with Kirt or Sitivrat, and
again with some Sanskrit legend of a Satjavrata[700]. But the reasoning
seems inconclusive, and hardly sufficient to justify even the very
cautions mode in which Grimm expresses himself about this Slavo-Germanic
godhead[701]. More than this we cannot say of the Anglosaxon Sætere,
whose name does not appear in the royal genealogies; nevertheless we
cannot doubt the existence of some deity whom our forefathers recognized
under that name.
-----
Footnote 696:
Grimm seems rather to imagine _insidiator_. Myth. p. 226.
Footnote 697:
Cod. Dipl. No. 813.
Footnote 698:
An edition of the Anglosaxon dialogues on this subject has been put
forth by the author for the Ælfric Society. To this reference may be
made for full details respecting Saturnus.
Footnote 699:
It is with no disrespect to the unrivalled powers of Scott that I
enter my protest here against the false _costume_ of Ivanhoe; a far
more serious objection no doubt is the way in which his brilliant
contrast, necessary to the success of a romance, has misled the
historian. Had Ivanhoe not appeared, we should not have had the many
errors which disfigure Thierry’s Conquête de l'Angleterre par les
Normands. But when Scott makes Ulrica (Ulrica a Saxon female name!)
calling upon Zernebock, as a god of her forefathers, he makes her talk
absolute nonsense. Some Mecklenburg or Pomeranian Saxons, in the
immediate neighbourhood of Slavonic populations, or mingled with them,
may possibly have heard of _their_ god Czerny Bog, (_the black god_)
contrasted with Bjala Bog, (_the white god_), but assuredly no
Anglosaxon ever heard the name of any such deity; nor does the chaunt
of the vindictive lady bear one single trace of Saxon character. In
every matter of detail, the romance is only calculated to mislead; and
this is to be regretted, inasmuch as the beauty of the whole work
renders it a certain vehicle of error;—has rendered it already a snare
to one estimable author. M. Thierry has related the effect produced
upon his mind by Ivanhoe. See his Dix Ans d'Études Historiques:
Preface.
Footnote 700:
Deut. Myth. p. 227.
Footnote 701:
See Salomon and Saturn, p. 129.
-----
From the Gods we pass to the Goddesses: of these we have indeed but
scanty record in England. Of the great and venerable goddess Fricge,
Wóden’s wife, we are only told that she gave her name to the sixth day
of the week; and we must admit that this is all we know of her, unless
she be implied under some other name, which is possible.
Beda in acquainting us with the ancient names of the Anglosaxon months
tells us of four which were called from their especial reference to the
gods: these are Solmónað or February; Hréðmónað, March; Eóstermónað,
April; and Blótmónað, November. Solmónað he says received its name from
the cakes which were offered to the gods at that time[702]; Blótmónað
from the victims (cattle) that were vowed for sacrifice; of the others
he says[703], “Hréðmónað is called from a goddess of theirs,—Rheda, to
whom they sacrificed in that month. Eóstermónað, which is now
interpreted by the ‘Paschal month,’ had its name of old from a goddess
of theirs named Eostre, to whom in this month they offered
celebrations.”
-----
Footnote 702:
Can this word _sol_ (perhaps _sól_) be a contracted form of _sufl_? If
not, I cannot offer an explanation of it.
Footnote 703:
De Natura Rerum, cap. xv.
-----
The Scandinavian and German mythology are alike destitute of these
names; although among the many goddesses they recognize some two may
perhaps be identical with ours. The name Hréðe may possibly mean
_severe_, _fierce_, and denote a warlike goddess; but still I am more
inclined to connect it with the adjective Hróð, glorious, famous, and to
see in it the meaning of the _great_ or _glorious_ goddess, that is, in
some form or other, Fricge, Wóden’s wife: it is however not to be
forgotten that the German Chrodo, in Anglosaxon Hróð or even Hréðe, is
now admitted, and that this god was in fact Saturn. It is true that we
have more than one fragmentary legend in which the name of Saturn
survives, but in a heroic rather than a godlike form, and this may have
been the cause of its preservation: the Church found Saturn useful, and
kept him; nor is it at all surprising that a change of sex should have
taken place: the same thing happened with the German goddess Nerthus,
who reappears in the Norse god Niördr, and the classical scholar will at
once remember the god Lunus, as well as the goddess Luna[704]. Whatever
explanation we may attempt to give of Hréðe, it is clear that she was a
Saxon goddess to whom at stated periods sacrifice was offered. The same
thing may be said of Eóstre or Eástre, whose name must be etymologically
connected with Eást, _oriens_, and who therefore was in all probability
a goddess of brightness and splendour, perhaps also a Beorhte or Bright
goddess: she may have been a goddess of light, of the morning beams, of
the newly awakening year, when the sun first begins to recover power
after the gloom and darkness of winter. That she was deeply impressed
upon the mind and feelings of the people follows from her name having
been retained for the great festival of the church: it may also be
fairly argued that she was a mild and gentle divinity, whom the clergy
did not fear thus to commemorate.
-----
Footnote 704:
The name of Nerthus stands in all the best MSS. of Tacitus’ Germania,
and the change of it into Herthus, though very plausible, was
unnecessary. One easily sees the cause of error: it was thought that
Herthus, _terra mater_, was the Gothic Airthus, in Old-german Erdu, in
Anglosaxon Eorðe. But there is no H in these words; if there were we
should have had a Teutonic Vesta. The goddess’s name was Nairthus,
Nerdu, Nerðe, and her corresponding form in Old-norse, Niördr.
-----
Lye’s dictionary cites another goddess, Ricen, with the translation
Diana, which he seems to have taken from some Cotton MS. It stands too
isolated for us to make any successful investigation, but I may be
excused for calling to mind the fact that Diana is mentioned by the
versifying chroniclers as among the Saxon gods, and also that the
superstition known in Germany as the “Wild Hunt,” and which is properly
connected with Wóden, goes very generally among us by the name of Ludus
Dianae. This, which became the foundation of many a cruel persecution,
under the name of witchcraft, is spread over every part of Germany in
one form or another: sometimes it is [the daughter of] Herodias who is
compelled for ever to expiate her fatal dancing; at other times we have
Minerva or Bertha, Holda, Habundia, Dame Abonde, Domina, Hera—the Lady,
and so on. It is true that our fragmentary remains of Saxon heathendom
do not contain any immediate allusions to this superstition, but yet it
can scarcely be doubted that it did exist here as it did in every part
of the continent[705], and one therefore would not willingly decide at
once against there having been some deity who might be translated by
Diana in the _interpretatio Romana_.
-----
Footnote 705:
“In contrariam partem est auctoritas decreti xxvi. 9. y. c. epi. Ita
ibi legitur. Illud non est obmittendum, quod quedam scelerate mulieres
retro post Sathan converse, demonum illusionibus et fantasmatibus
seducte, credunt se et profitentur cum Diana nocturnis horis dea
paganorum, vel cum Herodiade et innumera multitudine mulierum,
equitare super quasdam bestias et multa terrarum spatia intempeste
noctis silentio pertransire, eius iussionibus obedire veluti domine,
et certis noctibus ad eius servitium evocari.” Hieronymi Vicecomitis
opusculum Lamiarum vel Striarum. Mediol. 1490. John of Salisbury
notices this in his Polyczaticus, and Henry More in his Mystery of
Godliness. See Salom. Sat. p. 125, _seq._
-----
FIENDS and MONSTERS.—The community of belief, between the Germans of
this island, of the continent, and their Scandinavian kinsmen, does not
appear to have been confined to the beneficent gods of fertility or
warlike prowess. In the noble poem of Beowulf we are made acquainted
with a monstrous fiend, Grendel, and his mother, supernatural beings of
gigantic birth, stature and disposition, voracious and cruel, feeding
upon men, and from their nature incapable of being wounded with mortal
weapons. The triumph of the hero over these unearthly enemies forms the
subject of one half the poem. But Grendel, who, from the characteristics
given above, may at once be numbered among the rough, violent deities of
nature, the Jotnar[706] of the North and Titans of classical mythology,
is not without other records: in two or three charters we find places
bearing his name, and it is remarkable that they are all connected more
or less with water, while the poem describes his dwelling as a cavern
beneath a lake, peopled with Nicors and other supernatural beings of a
fiendish character. The references are Grindles pyt[707], Grindles
bece[708], and Grendles mere[709]. Grimm, by a comparison of
philological and other data, identifies Grendel with the Norse Loki, the
evil-bringer, and in the end destroyer of the gods[710]. The early
converted Anglosaxons who possessed another devil to oppose to the
Almighty in the Ragnaravkr[711], could easily reconcile themselves to
the destruction of Grendel by an earthly hero; although the ancient
heathendom breaks out in the supernatural powers attributed to the
latter, and which placing him very near the rank of the gods, induce a
belief that Beówulf contains only the shadow of an older myth which may
have been current far beyond the limits of this island[712]. It will be
sufficient to call attention to the many German tales in which the
devil’s mother figures as a principal actor, nay to our own familiar
expression, _the devil’s dam_, to show how essential this characteristic
of the fiend was: the devil of the Church had certainly no mother; but
the old Teutonic evil spirit had, and Loki and Grendel are alike in
this. Even the religious view, which naturally shaped itself to other
influences, could not escape the essential heathendom of this idea: the
devil who is so constant an agent in the Anglosaxon legends, has, if not
a mother, at least a father, no less than Satan himself; but Satan lies
bound in hell, as Loki lies bound, and it is only as his emissary and
servant that the devil his son[713] appears on earth, to tempt and to
destroy. In Cædmon, the legend of St. Andrew, Juliana, Gúðlác, etc., it
is always the devil’s son and satellite who executes his work on earth,
and returns to give an account of his mission to him that sent him.
-----
Footnote 706:
In Beówulf he is continually called Eoten.
Footnote 707:
Cod. Dipl. No. 59.
Footnote 708:
Ibid. No. 570.
Footnote 709:
Ibid. No. 353.
Footnote 710:
Mythologie, p. 222.
Footnote 711:
The Devil and the Pater Noster were to contend together at Doomsday:
each was to assume fifteen different forms. Sal. Sat. p. 145.
Footnote 712:
See Beówulf, ii. Postscript, and the Stammtafel der Westsachsen.
Footnote 713:
In the legend of Juliana, the subordinate devil speaks of Satan as his
father and king. Cod. Exon. pp. 261, 273. And so also in Salomon and
Saturn (p. 141), he is called Satan’s thane. Again, in the same
composition, Satan is called the devil’s father: “The Pater Noster
will shoot the devil with boiling shafts; and the lightning will burn
and mark him, and the rain will be shed over him, and the thick
darkness confuse him, and the thunder thrash him with the fiery axe,
and drive him to the iron chain wherein his father dwelleth, Satan and
Sathiel.” p. 149. In the legend of St. Andrew, Satan himself appears,
which may be owing to its Greek origin. See Vercelli Poems, Andr. l.
2388: still, in another passage Satan sends his children. Ibid. l.
2692.
-----
Thus throughout the strange confusion which besets all Anglosaxon
compositions in which the devil is introduced either as a tempter or a
persecutor of the holy and just, we may perceive a ray of ancient
heathendom, gloomy enough, no doubt, but far less miserable than the
vile materialism of the notions with which it has been mixed up. The
rude _Eoten_ or Titan is not nearly so repugnant to our Christian ideas
as the gross corporeal fiends who have grown out of him, and who play so
conspicuous a part in Anglosaxon hagiology or purgatorial legends: nor
is it easy to conceive any superstition more degrading than that which
Eastern or perhaps even Roman traditions thus engrafted upon the ancient
creed. With these we are not called upon to deal in any further detail,
for though they have no claim whatever to be called Christian, they
certainly have nothing to do with Anglosaxon heathendom. The Grendels
and Nicors of our forefathers were gods of nature, the spirits of the
wood and wave: they sunk into their degraded and disgusting forms only
when the devils of a barbarous superstition came to be confounded and
mixed up with them. There is still something genuine and poetical in the
account which a monk of St. Gall gives of the colloquy between the
ancient gods when the missionaries settled on the shores of the lake of
Constance; when in the dead of night, the holy anchoret watching at his
nets,
Heard how the spirit of the flood
Spake to the spirit of the hill:
“Volvente deinceps cursu temporis, electus Dei Gallus retia lymphae
laxabat in silentio noctis, sed inter ea audivit demonem de culmine
montis pari suo clamantem, qui erat in abditis maris. Quo respondente,
‘Adsum!’ montanus e contra: ‘Surge,’ inquit, ‘in adiutorium mihi! Ecce
peregrini venerunt, qui me de templo eiecerunt;’ nam Deos conterebant,
quos incolae isti colebant; insuper et eos ad se convertebant; ‘Veni,
veni, adiuva nos expellere eos de terris!’ Marinus demon respondit: ‘En
unus illorum est in pelago, cui nunquam nocere potero. Volui enim retia
sua ledere, sed me victum proba lugere. Signo orationis est semper
clausus, nec umquam somno oppressus.’ Electus vero Gallus haec audiens,
munivit se undique signaculo crucis, dixitque ad eos: ‘In nomine Jesu
Christi praecipio vobis, ut de locis istis recedatis, nec aliquem hic
ledere praesumatis!’ Et cum festinatione ad littus rediit, atque abbati
suo, quae audierat, recitavit. Quod vir Dei Columbanus audiens,
convocavit fratres in ecclesiam, solitum signum tangens. O mira dementia
diaboli! voces servorum Dei praeripuit vox fantasmatica, cum heiulatus
atque ululatus dirae vocis audiebatur per culmina [montium[714]].”
-----
Footnote 714:
Vit. Anon. Sci. Galli. Pertz, Monum. ii. 7. Pertz has justly called
attention to the metrical form of this colloquy. It is deeply to be
lamented that we no longer possess it in its earliest shape, and in
the language of its earliest composition.
-----
But words are hardly strong enough to express the feeling with which an
educated mind contemplates the fantastical, filthy and hideous images
which gross fanaticism strove to force into the service of a religion
whose end and means are love; the material terrors which were
substituted for the sanctions of the most spiritual, pure and holy
creed; the vulgar, degrading and ridiculous phantasmagoria devised to
destroy the essential selfishness and impurity of men, and startle them
into justice and righteousness of life! The Teutonic Titans, though
terrible from their rude strength, and dangerous even to the gods
themselves, are neither disgusting nor degrading: they are like Chronos
and Saturn, full of power and wisdom; they are in constant warfare with
the gods, because the latter are the representatives of a more humane
order; because the latter was more civilised: but as the giant race were
mighty at the beginning, so are they to triumph at the end of the world;
and it is only when they shall have succeeded in destroying the gods of
Oþinn’s race, that they will themselves vanish from the scene, and the
glorious reign of Allfather commence. Loki alone has something mean and
tricksey in his character, something allied to falsehood—a slight spice
of the Mephistopheles. But it is not probable that this belongs to his
earliest form, and it appears rather to mark the deterioration of a myth
becoming popular, and assuming traits of the popular, humorous spirit,
which takes delight in seeing power counteracted by cunning, and
revenges itself for the perfection of its heroes by sometimes exposing
them to ludicrous defeat. But even Loki was at first the friend and
associate of the gods: he was united with them by the most sacred bonds
of brotherhood, and his skill and wisdom secured them victory in many a
dangerous encounter. Like Lucifer, he had been a tenant of heaven: why
he and the gods ultimately parted in anger we are not told; but we find
him pursuing them with the utmost malice, till at length he causes the
death of Baldr. He is then bound and cast beneath the worlds, the
poisonous snake hangs over him distilling torturing venom: his faithful
wife sits by and catches the drops as they fall, but when the vessel in
which she receives them is full and she turns for a moment to empty it,
the deadly juice reaches the prostrate god, and in his agony he trembles
in every limb. This convulsion is known to men as the earthquake. It is
only in the twilight of the gods that he will break his chain and lead
the sons of Muspel to avenge him upon the race of Oþinn.
But Loki is no devil in the Anglosaxon sense of Satan and his son; he is
no deceiver or persecutor of men; least of all is he their torturer in
another world. He suffers indeed, but like Prometheus, or Entelechus, or
Ægeon, and his hour of triumph is to come. There is in his genuine
character nothing mean or little,—much indeed that is terrible, gloomy
and vague, but nothing ridiculous or disgusting. The Saxon devil with
horns, tail, cloven feet, sulphur and pitch, torches, red-hot tongs,
pincers and pitchforks is less creditable to the imagination, and more
dangerous to the moral being, of his inventors.
Nor are the occupations of such a fiend less vulgar than his form: he
blasts the corn, wounds the cattle, fetters the hands of the doomed,
enters the mouth of those who have not guarded it by the sign of the
cross, and in a future state becomes the torturer—in the most material
and mechanical way—of those whose life has been spent in the service of
sin. The coarse fancy of Marlowe himself halts after the descriptions of
the Anglosaxon divines and poets, revelling in this fruitful theme.
Unpleasant as such records are, and revolting to our sense of right, it
is necessary that we should know what was taught or permitted by the
clergy, if we are to know anything of the mode of life and mode of
belief of our forefathers.
As early even as the eighth century, we find so great a man as Beda
condescending to admit into his ecclesiastical history, such melancholy
evidence of Manichæan materialism as the vision of Drihthelm. He tells
how such a man in Northumbria, lying at the point of death, had fallen
into a trance, recovering from which and being restored to health, he
had entered the monastery of Melrose, in which he continued till his
death. During his trance he had seen visions which he afterwards
communicated to Hamgisl a priest, Aldfríð king of the Northumbrians, and
others. He related that on being released from the body his soul had
been led by one, bright of aspect, gloriously clothed, towards the east,
into a valley wide and deep and of a length that seemed infinite: one
side glowed terribly with flames, the other was filled with furious hail
and freezing snow. Either side was full of human souls which were tossed
from left to right as by a tempest. For when they could not bear the
violence of the immense heat, they rushed wretchedly into the midst of
the dreadful cold; and when they could find no rest there, they sprung
back again, again to burn in the midst of inextinguishable flames. When
Drihthelm saw them thus eternally tormented by a crowd of deformed
demons, he thought within himself, “This is surely hell, of whose
intolerable tortures I have often heard tell!” But his companion said,
“This is not the hell thou thinkest!” and proceeding further, he beheld
how the darkness began to thicken around and fill the whole space before
him. Suddenly in this deep night he perceived globes of dusky fire cast
up from what seemed to be a vast well, into which they fell again,
without intermission. In the midst of these horrors his conductor left
him. On looking more intently, he now perceived that the tongues of fire
were all full of human souls, tossed aloft like sparks in smoke, and
then dragged back into the abyss. And an incomparable stench, which
bubbled up with the vapours, filled all those abodes of darkness. Around
him sounded the shouts and taunts of fiends, like a vulgar mob exulting
over a captive enemy: suddenly a host of evil spirits dragged through
the darkness five souls, one of a laic, one of a woman, one tonsured
like a cleric, and plunged them into the abyss amidst a confused roar of
lamentation and laughter. Then certain malignant spirits ascending from
the deep, surrounded the trembling spectator, terrifying him with their
flaming eyes and the fire which burst from their mouths and noses, and
threatening to seize him with fiery pincers which they held in their
hands. From this danger he was rescued by the return of his companion,
who conducted him to two corresponding regions of eternal bliss, every
one of whose details is in the strongest contrast to those already
described, but just as material, as gross and sensual. The moral of this
is too important to be given in any but Beda’s own words. “And when, on
our return, we had reached those happy mansions of spirits clothed in
white, he said unto me, ‘Knowest thou what all these things are which
thou hast beheld?’ I answered, ‘No.’ Then said he, 'The valley which
thou sawest, horrible with its boiling flames and its stiff cold, that
is the place where shall be tried and chastised the souls of those men,
who delaying to confess and to amend their sins, yet fly to penitence in
the hour of death, and thus leave the body: yet since they had
confession and penance even in death, shall all, at the day of judgment,
reach the kingdom of heaven. But many, both the prayers of the living,
and their alms and fasts, and most of all the celebration of masses,
assist, so that they shall be freed even before the day of judgment. But
that flame-belching, putrid well which thou hast seen is the mouth of
hell itself, into which whoever shall fall, shall never be set free for
ever and ever. And that flowery place in which thou sawest those most
beauteous youths enjoy themselves in splendour, is that wherein are
received the souls of those who indeed leave the body in good works, but
yet are not of such perfection that they may at once enter the kingdom
of heaven; who yet shall all, in the day of judgment, enter into the
sight of Christ, and the joys of the heavenly kingdom. For they who are
perfect in every word and act and thought, immediately on leaving the
body shall reach the heavenly kingdom; to whose precincts that place
belonged, where thou heardest the sound of pleasant singing, together
with the smell of sweetness and the splendour of light[715].'” Having
thus seen and heard, Drihthelm was allowed to return to the body, where
no doubt he became a powerful champion of Purgatory. But Beda is not
satisfied with this tale: he goes on to tell of a Mercian noble, who
would not go to confession. At the point of death, he sees two angels
enter his room, bearing the record of his good deeds, which fill but a
small roll: having caused him to read this, they make way for a crowd of
fiends, black and foul, who bear the enormous tale of his sins of word,
work and thought, which also he is compelled to read. Then the leader of
the fiends turning to the sons of light exclaims, “Why sit ye here,
knowing assuredly that he is ours?” to which they reply, “Ye say truly:
take him, and lead him with you into the accumulation of your own
damnation!” Upon this the good spirits vanish, and two demons, a sort of
Occidental Munkir and Nekir, smite him with ploughshares on the head and
feet, and creep into him; when they meet within him, he dies and passes
into everlasting torments[716]. This tale, which Beda heard from the
venerable bishop Pecthelm[717], he refines upon, explains, and finishes
by declaring that he relates it simply for the salvation of those who
shall read or hear it. No doubt the distempered ravings of monks, made
half mad by inhuman austerities, unnatural restrictions, and wretched
themes of contemplation, would in themselves be of little worth: we can
comprehend the visions of a Saint Francis de Salis, an Ignatius Loyola,
a Peter the Hermit, a Santa Theresa, and even more readily those of a
Drihthelm or a Madame Guyon: but how shall we understand the record of
them by a Beda or a Fenelon?
-----
Footnote 715:
Beda, H. E. v. 12.
Footnote 716:
Beda, H. E. v. 13.
Footnote 717:
The first Bishop of Whiterne in Galloway, who died in 737. Any one who
desires to learn more of the miserable superstitions which Beda could
recommend, may see the account of Fursæus (H. E. iii. 19), and the MS.
lives of the saint of which Mr. Stevenson has given a notice in his
edition of Beda, pp. 197, 199, notes.
-----
Such authority as this was likely to be followed with zeal; once open,
the career of unbridled fancy was sure to find no limit; the more sure,
since then, as now, the fears and miseries of the mass were sources of
profit to the few. Then, as now, there were rogues found who dared to
step between man and God, to clothe themselves in the coat without seam,
to make themselves the mediators between eternal mercy and the perishing
sinner. Accordingly in later times we find variation upon variation in
the outline already so vigorously sketched; William of Malmesbury
furnishes an ample field for collectors of this kind of literature. I
shall content myself here with citing from the so often quoted Salomon
and Saturn two passages, which to me are redolent of heathendom,
disguised after the fashion which has been described.
Mæg simle se Godes cwide Ever may the God’s word[718]
gumena gehwylcum, for every man,
ealra feónda gehwone every fiend
fleónde gebringan, put to flight,
ðurh mannes múð, through mouth of man,
mánfulra heáp the troop of evil ones,
sweartne geswencan; the black troop, oppress;
næfre híe ðæs syllíce let them never so strangely
bleóum bregdað change their colours
æfter báncofan, in their body,
feðerhoman onfóð. or assume plumage.
Hwílum flótan grípað, Sometimes they seize the sailor,
hwílum híe gewendað sometimes they turn
on wyrmes líc into the body of a snake
scearpes and sticoles, sharp and piercing,
stingað nýten they sting the neat
feldgongende, going about the fields,
feoh gestrúdað; the cattle they destroy;
hwílum híe on wætere sometimes in the water
wicg gehnǽgað, they bow the horse,
hornum geheáwað with horns they hew him
oððæt him heortan blód, until his heart’s blood,
fámig flódes bæð, a foaming bath of flood,
foldan geséceð. falls to the earth.
Hwílum híe gefeterað Sometimes they fetter
fǽges monnes handa, the hands of the doomed,
gehefegað ðonne he they make them heavy when he
æt hilde sceall is called upon in war,
wið láðwerud against a hostile troop
lifes tiligan: to provide for his life:
áwrítað híe on his wæpne they write upon his weapon
wælnóta heáp. a fatal heap of marks[719].
-----
Footnote 718:
That is, the Paternoster.
Footnote 719:
Sal. Sat. pp. 143, 144.
-----
Again we are told, in the same composition: “And when the devil is very
weary he seeketh the cattle of some sinful man, or an unclean tree; or
if he meeteth the mouth and body of a man that hath not been blessed
with the sign of the cross, then goeth he into the bowels of the man who
hath so forgotten, and through his skin and through his flesh departeth
into the earth, and from thence findeth his way into the desert of
hell[720].”
-----
Footnote 720:
Ibid. p. 149.
-----
NICOR.—To the class of elemental gods must originally have been reckoned
the Nicor, or water-spirit, whose name has not only been retained in the
_Water Nixes_ of our own country, and in the _Neck_ of Germany, but in
our own common name for the devil, _Old Nick_. According to the account
given in Beówulf, these were supernatural, elvish creatures haunting the
lakes, rivers and seas, ever on the watch to injure the wayfarer, and
apparently endowed with the power of creating tempests. In this
semi-Christian view they were fiendish and savage enemies of the sailor,
whom they pursued with horns and tusks, dragged to the bottom of the
waves and then no doubt devoured[721]. Probably, like other supernatural
beings dreaded by our forefathers, they were included in the family of
ogres and monsters descended from the first homicide. Yet it may be
doubted whether this, was the original and heathen sense of the word
Nicor. As late as the thirteenth century I find in an old German
glossary Neckar translated by _Neptunus_, the god of the sea; and it is
notorious that one of the names borne by Oþinn, whenever he appears as a
sea-god is Hnikuþr and Nikuz. Hence it is not unlikely that in their
ancient creed, the pagan Saxons recognized Nicor as Wóden. The name
Hwala which occurs in the genealogies, and like Geát may be assumed to
be only another name of Wóden, confirms this view. Hwala is formed from
Hwæl, _cetus_, just as Scyldwa is from Scyld, _clypeus_, and was
probably only a name of Wóden as a sea-god. The danger attending the
whale or walrus fishery[722] made the first at least of these animals an
object of superstitious dread to the Anglosaxon sailor; perhaps, as in
the case of the bear, natural peculiarities which are striking enough
even to our more scientific eyes, helped to give an exceptional
character to the monarch of the Northern seas. Be this as it may, it is
not without importance that Hwala should appear in the genealogies among
names many of which are indisputably Wóden’s, that in Scandinavia and
Germany Nikuz or Necker should be names of the sea-god, and that till a
very late period,—when the heathen gods had everywhere assumed the garb
of fiends and devils,—the Nicor should appear as the monster of the deep
_par excellence_. The miraculous power attributed to the Nicor,—in
Beówulf he is called “wundorlíc wǽgbora,” a supernatural bringer of the
waves,—is in itself evidence of earlier godhead; and in this sense I am
disposed to identify him with the _demon marinus_ whom St. Gall defeated
by his constant watchfulness. In his altered and degraded form we may
also recognize the demon of the lines lately cited, who stabs the horse
with his horns while crossing the water. The beautiful Nix or Nixie who
allures the young fisher or hunter to seek her embraces in the wave
which brings his death, the Neck who seizes upon and drowns the maidens
who sport upon his banks, the river-spirit who still yearly in some
parts of Germany demands tribute of human life, are all forms of the
ancient Nicor; but more genuine perhaps,—certainly more pleasing,—is the
Swedish Stromkarl, who from the jewelled bed of his river, watches with
delight the children gambol in the adjoining meadows, and singing
sweetly to them in the evening, detaches from his hoary hair the sweet
blossoms of the water-lily, which he wafts over the surface to their
hands.
-----
Footnote 721:
Beówulf, _passim_.
Footnote 722:
The fisherman in Ælfric’s dialogue disclaims any intention of
whale-fishing, on account of its dangers. Thorpe, Anal. p. 24.
-----
HEL.—Among the fearful beings whose power was dreaded even by the gods,
was Hel, mistress of the cold and joyless under-world. Called, through
the fate of battle, to the glories of Wælheal, the Teutonic or Norse
hero trembled at a peaceful death which would consign him to a dwelling
more desolate and wretched than even that which awaited the fallen
warriors of heroic Greece[723], and many a legend tells of those whose
own hand saved them from a futurity so abhorred[724]. But Hel was not
herself the agent of _death_; she only received those who had not earned
their seat in Oþinn’s hall by a heroic fall, and the Wælcyrian or
Shieldmays were the choosers of the slain. The realm of Hel was all that
Wælheal was not,—cold, cheerless, shadowy; no simulated war was _there_,
from which the combatants desisted with renovated strength and glory; no
capacious quaighs of mead, or cups of the life-giving wine; no feast
continually enjoyed and miraculously reproduced; no songs nor narratives
of noble deeds; no expectation of the last great battle where the
_einherjar_ were to accompany Allfather to meet his gigantic
antagonists; no flashing Shieldmays animating the brave with their
discourse, and lightening the hall with their splendour: but chill and
ice, frost and darkness; shadowy realms without a sun, without song or
wine or feast, or the soul-inspiring company of heroes, glorying in the
great deeds of their worldly life.
-----
Footnote 723:
Odyssey, book xi.
Footnote 724:
This is so completely familiar to the student of antiquity, that I
shall not multiply examples: they may be found in Bartholinus. But one
instance I may be excused for citing, inasmuch as it proves how long
the heathen spirit survived despite the peaceful hope and promise of
Christianity. Henry of Huntingdon, in the sixth book of his history,
relates of Sigeweard the great duke of Northumberland, that hearing of
the loss of his son in battle, he exclaimed, “Recepitne vulnus lethale
in anteriori vel posteriori corporis parte? Dixerunt nuntii: In
anteriori. At ille: Gaudeo plane, non enim alio me, vel filium meum
digner funere.” In 1055 however, oppressed with sickness, he found
that his desire was not to be fulfilled. “Siwardus, consul
rigidissimus, profluvio ventris ductus, mortem sensit imminere,
dixitque: Quantus pudor me tot in bellis mori non potuisse, ut
vaccarum morti cum dedecore reservarer! Induite me saltem lorica mea
impenetrabili, praecingite gladio, sublimate galea: scutum in laeva,
securim auratam mihi ponite in dextra, ut militum fortissimus modo
militis moriar. Dixerat, et, ut dixerat, armatus honorifice spiritum
exhalavit.” Through every word of this passage breathes the old
heathen spirit of Haralldr Hilditavn, and one feels that to
Christianity alone it was owing, that Sigeweard did not prevent an
inglorious by a voluntary violent death.
-----
For the perjurer and the secret murderer Nástrond existed, a place of
torment and punishment—the strand of the dead—filled with foulness,
peopled with poisonous serpents, dark, cold, and gloomy: the kingdom of
Hel was _Hades_, the invisible, the world of shadows[725]: Nástrond was
what we call _Hell_. Christianity however admitted no goddess of death,
and when it was thought necessary to express the idea of a place of
punishment after death, the Anglosaxon united the realm of Hel with
Nástrond to complete a hideous prison for the guilty: the prevailing
idea in the infernal regions of the Teuton is cold and gloom[726]; the
poisonous snakes, which waking or sleeping seem ever to have haunted the
Anglosaxon, formed a convenient point of junction between his own
traditional hell and that which he heard of from the pulpit, in
quotations from the works of the Fathers; and to these and their
influence alone can it be attributed when we find flames and sulphur,
and all the hideous apparatus of Judaic tradition, adopted by him. In
this fact seems to me to lie a very important mark of ancient
heathendom, and one which the clergy themselves admitted, a belief in
which they shared, and which they did not scruple to impress upon their
flocks, even in spite of the contrary tendency of their authorities: it
will be sufficient to refer to the description given of hell in the
poetic Salomon and Saturn, a composition redolent of heathendom: on the
defeat of the rebel angels, it is said, God
him helle gescóp, for them he made hell,
wælcealde wíc, a dwelling deadly cold,
wintre beðeahte: with winter covered:
wæter insende water he sent in
and wyrmgeardas, and snake-dwellings,
atol deór monig many a foul beast
írenum hornum; with horns of iron;
blódige earnas bloody eagles
and bláce nædran; and pale adders;
þirst and hungor thirst and hunger
and þearle gewin, and fierce conflict,
eácne egesan, mighty terror,
unrótnisse. joylessness[727].
-----
Footnote 725:
So the Greeks:
Πῶς ἔτλης Ἄϊδόσδε κατελθέμεν, ἔνθα τε νεκροὶ
Ἀφραδέες ναίουσι, βροτῶν εἴδωλα καμόντων;
Odyss. xi. 473.
Footnote 726:
Fire was too cheerful in the North to be sufficiently an object of
terror: it appeared otherwise in the East, where coolness is the
greatest of luxuries.
Footnote 727:
Sal. Sat. p. 173.
-----
Even in their more orthodox descriptions, ecclesiastical poets, though
naturally adopting the Judaic notions, cannot always shake off the old,
habitual tradition of their forefathers, but recur to the frost, gloom
and serpents of Nástrond, and the realm of Hel; of which a passage
already quoted from Beda is ample evidence.
As far as we can judge from the descriptions which survive, the
Anglosaxons represented Hell to themselves as a close and covered
dwelling, a prison duly secured as earthly prisons are by locks, bolts
and bars[728]. But the popular fancy had probably even then adopted the
notion of a monstrous beast whose _mouth_ was the entrance to the place
of torment: this appears not only from the illustrations to Cædmon[729],
but from the common expression, so long current, of Hell-mouth. From
this peculiar feature however we may believe that a remembrance still
lurked among our forefathers of the gigantic or Titanic character of the
ancient goddess, who, in Norse mythology, was Loki’s daughter. In nearly
every case, the word Hel in Anglosaxon, and especially Anglosaxon prose,
has merely the abstract sense we now give it; but here and there a
passage may be found in which we discover traces of the personal
meaning: thus perhaps in Beówulf where we find these lines,
siððan dreámaleás when reft of joy
in fenfreoðo in his fen-refuge
feorh álegde, he his life laid down,
hǽðene sáwle, his heathen soul,
ðǽr him Hel onfeng. there Hel received him[730].
-----
Footnote 728:
Beda himself speaks of “inferni claustra” (H. E. v. 13), and for this
there was supposed to be sufficient authority in the figurative
expression, Matt. xvi. 18.
Footnote 729:
Published by the Society of Antiquaries.
Footnote 730:
Beów. l. 1698: and perhaps similarly l. 357, “Helle gemundon.” they
worshipped Hel.
-----
However as a death in battle did not consign the warrior to Hel, it is
usually Hild or Wig who is represented as ravishing away the doomed
hero. Hel was no desired object, to be introduced into the epic as the
portion of chieftains and kings.
FATES.—The Northern creed, and, as it now seems established, the German
also, admitted the intervention between man and the gods, of subordinate
deities or Fates. I call them subordinate from their peculiar position
in the fragmentary portions of mythology that survive; in their nature
we must believe them to be of a higher order than the gods, who
themselves are doomed one day to perish, and who can probably as little
avoid their doom as men, the frailer creatures of their power. It may be
that in this, different views prevailed among different classes of men;
the warlike princes and their followers, who exulted in tales of battle
and feasting, may have been willing to see in Oþinn the supreme disposer
of events, while a deeper wisdom lurked in the sacerdotal songs that
told how Urðr, Werðandi and Skuld (the Norns of the Past, the Present
and the Future) bore inevitable sway over the inhabitants of heaven and
earth, and slowly waited for the period which was to confound gods, man
and nature in one vast destruction[731]. The Norse view admits however
of more than three Norns, though it names those only who have been
mentioned; and from the extraordinary relation of those three, it can
hardly be doubted that the others are of a different order; moreover it
attributes human passions to them which are hardly consistent with the
functions of the venerable Fates; in this case it is possible that the
Valkyriur, a race of beings whose functions might in some respects be
confounded with those of the Nornir, have been so mixed up with them.
Man, dealing with the daily affairs of troubled life, thinks more of the
past than of the future: to him the present is the child of the past,
the past the excuse for or cause of all he does and suffers; his
intellect comprehends the events that are completed or in course of
completion, but not the indefinite, illimitable probabilities of the
undiscovered _to be_; hence perhaps Urðr is considered the oldest and
most powerful of the Fates; her work is done, the others are doing or
yet to do. Through this progress of opinion it became possible for the
conception of the older Fate to include and finally supersede those of
the others, as soon as the living belief in their personal agency became
weakened. I do not know that any certain trace of these Fates can be
found in the High-german countries[732], but in the Low-german the
eldest Norn still survives long after the introduction of Christianity,
in a sense little removed at times from that of Necessity itself. That
this should still have been coupled with a lively feeling of personality
only proves how deeply rooted the old Heathen creed had been. In the
following instances from the Oldsaxon Héljand[733], Wurth might almost
in every case be replaced by dód, _mors_: “Thiu Wurth is at handun, dód
is at hendi;”—the _wierd_[734], or death, is at hand, i. e. so near that
she might lay hold of the doomed. “Thiu _Wurth_ nahida thuo,”—the
_weird_ drew nigh. “_Wurth_ ina benam,” _Wierd_, i. e. the goddess of
death, ravished him away; as in Anglosaxon we have Swylt benam, Deáð
benam, and similar expressions.
-----
Footnote 731:
The Greek Fates are also three, and stand in a very similar position
towards the Gods. Zeus himself is not exempt from their power.
Prometheus, it is true, will not distinctly assert Zeus to be _weaker_
than the Fates, but he answers very decisively that even Zeus cannot
escape his Fate.
Χο. Τίς οὖν ἀνάγκης ἐστὶν οἰακοστρόφος;
Πρ. Μοῖραι τρίμορφαι, μνήμονές τ' Ἐριννύες.
Χο. Τούτων ἄρα Ζεύς ἐστιν ἀσθενέστερος;
Πρ. Οὔκουν ἂν ἐκφύγοι γε τὴν πεπρωμένην.
ÆSCH. Prom. Vin. 517-520.
The Μοῖραι here are only ministers of a deeper necessity, yet they
seem to wield it themselves, and that it is inseparable from justice
seems to follow from the venerable goddesses being joined in the task.
Plato however distinctly names three Μοῖραι, the daughters of Αναγκη,
who _spin_ the life of man: what is more to our purpose is that to
each of the three, the past, the present and the future are severally
distributed, as to Urðr, Werðandi and Skuld. He says, ἄλλας δὲ
καθημένας πέριξ δι’ ἴσου τρεῖς, ἐν θρόνῳ ἑκάστην, θυγατέρας τῆς
Ἀνάγκης, Μοίρας, λευχειμονούσας, στέμματα ἐπὶ τῶν κεφαλῶν ἐχούσας,
Λάχεσίν τε καὶ Κλωθὼ καὶ Ἄτροπον, ὑμνεῖν πρὸς τὴν τῶν Σειρήνων
ἁρμονίαν, Λάχεσιν μὲν τὰ γεγονότα, Κλωθὼ δὲ τὰ ὄντα, Ἄτροπον δὲ τὰ
μέλλοντα. The spindle however lies and revolves upon the knees of
Ἀνάγκη. De Repub. lib. x. ad fin. The white garments, garlands and
throne, as well as the singing, are wanting to our Norns, but the
resemblance in other respects is very striking. It deserves notice
also that the _Weird sisters_ in Macbeth are three; and even the
Odyssey may intend that number,
ἔνθα δ’ ἔπειτα
πείσεται, ἅσσα οἱ αἶσα, κατακλῶθές τε βαρεῖαι.
γεινομένῳ νήσαντο λίνῳ, ὅτε μιν τέκε μήτηρ.
Odyss. vii. 196-198.
It is well known what controversy has arisen as to the real number of
Εριννυες intended by Æschylus in his Eumenides.
Footnote 732:
Grimm, Mythol. p. 377, does not seem to lay much stress upon the _two_
instances which he gives, one of which is extremely doubtful, and the
other of no certain authority.
Footnote 733:
Héljand. Poema Saxonicum Saeculi Noni. Ed. A. Schmeller. Munich. pp.
146, 2; 92, 2; 163, 16; 66, 18; 111, 4.
Footnote 734:
We are fortunate in being able to use not a translation of Wurth, but
the word itself; I am not aware of its continuing to exist in any
other German dialect.
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