Neither are those prophetesses to be forgotten, so much honoured among
the German tribes, that, as we are assured by Tacitus, they rose to the
highest rank in their councils, by their supposed supernatural
knowledge, and even obtained a share in the direction of their armies.
This peculiarity in the habits of the North was so general, that it was
no unusual thing to see females, from respect to their supposed views
into futurity, and the degree of divine inspiration which was vouchsafed
to them, arise to the degree of HAXA, or chief priestess, from which
comes the word _Hexe_, now universally used for a witch; a circumstance
which plainly shows that the mythological system of the ancient natives
of the North had given to the modern language an appropriate word for
distinguishing those females who had intercourse with the spiritual
world.[16]
[Footnote 16: It may be worth while to notice that the word Haxa is
still used in Scotland in its sense of a druidess, or chief priestess,
to distinguish the places where such females exercised their ritual.
There is a species of small intrenchment on the western descent of the
Eildon hills, which Mr. Milne, in his account of the parish of Melrose,
drawn up about eighty years ago, says, was denominated _Bourjo_, a word
of unknown derivation, by which the place is still known. Here an
universal and subsisting tradition bore that human sacrifices were of
yore offered, while the people assisting could behold the ceremony from
the elevation of the glacis which slopes inward. With this place of
sacrifice communicated a path, still discernible, called the
_Haxell-gate_, leading to a small glen or narrow valley called the
_Haxellcleuch_--both which words are probably derived from the Haxa or
chief priestess of the pagans.]
It is undeniable that these Pythonesses were held in high respect while
the pagan religion lasted; but for that very reason they became odious
so soon as the tribe was converted to Christianity. They were, of
course, if they pretended to retain their influence, either despised as
impostors or feared as sorceresses; and the more that, in particular
instances, they became dreaded for their power, the more they were
detested, under the conviction that they derived it from the enemy of
man. The deities of the northern heathens underwent a similar
metamorphosis, resembling that proposed by Drawcansir in the
"Rehearsal," who threatens "to make a god subscribe himself a devil."
The warriors of the North received this new impression concerning the
influence of their deities, and the source from which it was derived,
with the more indifference, as their worship, when their mythology was
most generally established, was never of a very reverential or
devotional character. Their idea of their own merely human prowess was
so high, that the champions made it their boast, as we have already
hinted, they would not give way in fight even to the immortal gods
themselves. Such, we learn from Cæsar, was the idea of the Germans
concerning the Suevi, or Swabians, a tribe to whom the others yielded
the palm of valour; and many individual stories are told in the Sagas
concerning bold champions, who had fought, not only with the sorcerers,
but with the demigods of the system, and come off unharmed, if not
victorious, in the contest. Hother, for example, encountered the god
Thor in battle, as Diomede, in the Iliad, engages with Mars, and with
like success. Bartholsine[17] gives us repeated examples of the same
kind. "Know this," said Kiartan to Olaus Trigguasen, "that I believe
neither in idols nor demons. I have travelled through various strange
countries, and have encountered many giants and monsters, and have never
been conquered by them; I therefore put my sole trust in my own strength
of body and courage of soul." Another yet more broad answer was made to
St. Olaus, King of Norway, by Gaukater. "I am neither Pagan nor
Christian. My comrades and I profess no other religion than a perfect
confidence in our own strength and invincibility in battle." Such
chieftains were of the sect of Mezentius--
"Dextra mihi Deus, et telum, quod missile libro,
Nunc adsint!"[18]
And we cannot wonder that champions of such a character, careless of
their gods while yet acknowledged as such, readily regarded them as
demons after their conversion to Christianity.
[Footnote 17: "De causis contemptæ necis," lib. i. cap 6.]
[Footnote 18: "Æneid," lib. x. line 773.]
To incur the highest extremity of danger became accounted a proof of
that insuperable valour for which every Northman desired to be famed,
and their annals afford numerous instances of encounters with ghosts,
witches, furies, and fiends, whom the Kiempé, or champions, compelled to
submit to their mere mortal strength, and yield to their service the
weapons or other treasures which they guarded in their tombs.
The Norsemen were the more prone to these superstitions, because it was
a favourite fancy of theirs that, in many instances, the change from
life to death altered the temper of the human spirit from benignant to
malevolent; or perhaps, that when the soul left the body, its departure
was occasionally supplied by a wicked demon, who took the opportunity to
enter and occupy its late habitation.
Upon such a supposition the wild fiction that follows is probably
grounded; which, extravagant as it is, possesses something striking to
the imagination. Saxo Grammaticus tells us of the fame of two Norse
princes or chiefs, who had formed what was called a brotherhood in arms,
implying not only the firmest friendship and constant support during all
the adventures which they should undertake in life, but binding them by
a solemn compact, that after the death of either, the survivor should
descend alive into the sepulchre of his brother-in-arms, and consent to
be buried alongst with him. The task of fulfilling this dreadful compact
fell upon Asmund, his companion, Assueit, having been slain in battle.
The tomb was formed after the ancient northern custom in what was called
the age of hills, that is, when it was usual to bury persons of
distinguished merit or rank on some conspicuous spot, which was crowned
with a mound. With this purpose a deep narrow vault was constructed, to
be the apartment of the future tomb over which the sepulchral heap was
to be piled. Here they deposited arms, trophies, poured forth, perhaps,
the blood of victims, introduced into the tomb the war-horses of the
champions, and when these rites had been duly paid, the body of Assueit
was placed in the dark and narrow house, while his faithful
brother-in-arms entered and sat down by the corpse, without a word or
look which testified regret or unwillingness to fulfil his fearful
engagement. The soldiers who had witnessed this singular interment of
the dead and living, rolled a huge stone to the mouth of the tomb, and
piled so much earth and stones above the spot as made a mound visible
from a great distance, and then, with loud lamentation for the loss of
such undaunted leaders, they dispersed themselves like a flock which has
lost its shepherd.
Years passed away after years, and a century had elapsed ere a noble
Swedish rover, bound upon some high adventure and supported by a gallant
band of followers, arrived in the valley which took its name from the
tomb of the brethren-in-arms. The story was told to the strangers, whose
leader determined on opening the sepulchre, partly because, as already
hinted, it was reckoned a heroic action to brave the anger of departed
heroes by violating their tombs; partly to attain the arms and swords of
proof with which the deceased had done their great actions. He set his
soldiers to work, and soon removed the earth and stones from one side of
the mound, and laid bare the entrance. But the stoutest of the rovers
started back when, instead of the silence of a tomb, they heard within
horrid cries, the clash of swords, the clang of armour, and all the
noise of a mortal combat between two furious champions. A young warrior
was let down into the profound tomb by a cord, which was drawn up
shortly after, in hopes of news from beneath. But when the adventurer
descended, some one threw him from the cord, and took his place in the
noose. When the rope was pulled up, the soldiers, instead of their
companion, beheld Asmund, the survivor of the brethren-in-arms. He
rushed into the open air, his sword drawn in his hand, his armour half
torn from his body, the left side of his face almost scratched off, as
by the talons of some wild beast. He had no sooner appeared in the light
of day, than, with the improvisatory poetic talent, which these
champions often united with heroic strength and bravery, he poured forth
a string of verses containing the history of his hundred years' conflict
within the tomb. It seems that no sooner was the sepulchre closed than
the corpse of the slain Assueit arose from the ground, inspired by some
ravenous goule, and having first torn to pieces and devoured the horses
which had been entombed with them, threw himself upon the companion who
had just given him such a sign of devoted friendship, in order to treat
him in the same manner. The hero, no way discountenanced by the horrors
of his situation, took to his arms, and defended himself manfully
against Assueit, or rather against the evil demon who tenanted that
champion's body. In this manner the living brother waged a preternatural
combat, which had endured during a whole century, when Asmund, at last
obtaining the victory, prostrated his enemy, and by driving, as he
boasted, a stake through his body, had finally reduced him to the state
of quiet becoming a tenant of the tomb. Having chanted the triumphant
account of his contest and victory, this mangled conqueror fell dead
before them. The body of Assueit was taken out of the tomb, burnt, and
the ashes dispersed to heaven; whilst that of the victor, now lifeless
and without a companion, was deposited there, so that it was hoped his
slumbers might remain undisturbed.[19] The precautions taken against
Assueit's reviving a second time, remind us of those adopted in the
Greek islands and in the Turkish provinces against the vampire. It
affords also a derivation of the ancient English law in case of suicide,
when a stake was driven through the body, originally to keep it secure
in the tomb.
[Footnote 19: See Saxo Grammaticus, "Hist. Dan.," lib. v.]
The Northern people also acknowledged a kind of ghosts, who, when they
had obtained possession of a building, or the right of haunting it, did
not defend themselves against mortals on the knightly principle of duel,
like Assueit, nor were amenable to the prayers of the priest or the
spells of the sorcerer, but became tractable when properly convened in a
legal process. The Eyrbiggia Saga acquaints us, that the mansion of a
respectable landholder in Iceland was, soon after the settlement of that
island, exposed to a persecution of this kind. The molestation was
produced by the concurrence of certain mystical and spectral phenomena,
calculated to introduce such persecution. About the commencement of
winter, with that slight exchange of darkness and twilight which
constitutes night and day in these latitudes, a contagious disease arose
in a family of consequence and in the neighbourhood, which, sweeping off
several members of the family at different times, seemed to threaten
them all with death. But the death of these persons was attended with
the singular consequence that their spectres were seen to wander in the
neighbourhood of the mansion-house, terrifying, and even assaulting,
those of the living family who ventured abroad. As the number of the
dead members of the devoted household seemed to increase in proportion
to that of the survivors, the ghosts took it upon them to enter the
house, and produce their aërial forms and wasted physiognomy, even in
the stove where the fire was maintained for the general use of the
inhabitants, and which, in an Iceland winter, is the only comfortable
place of assembling the family. But the remaining inhabitants of the
place, terrified by the intrusion of these spectres, chose rather to
withdraw to the other extremity of the house, and abandon their warm
seats, than to endure the neighbourhood of the phantoms. Complaints were
at length made to a pontiff of the god Thor, named Snorro, who exercised
considerable influence in the island. By his counsel, the young
proprietor of the haunted mansion assembled a jury, or inquest, of his
neighbours, constituted in the usual judicial form, as if to judge an
ordinary civil matter, and proceeded, in their presence, to cite
individually the various phantoms and resemblances of the deceased
members of the family, to show by what warrant they disputed with him
and his servants the quiet possession of his property, and what defence
they could plead for thus interfering with and incommoding the living.
The spectres of the dead, by name, and in order as summoned, appeared on
their being called, and muttering some regrets at being obliged to
abandon their dwelling, departed, or vanished, from the astonished
inquest. Judgment then went against the ghosts by default; and the trial
by jury, of which we here can trace the origin, obtained a triumph
unknown to any of the great writers who have made it the subject of
eulogy.[20]
[Footnote 20: Eyrbiggia Saga. See "Northern Antiquities."]
It was not only with the spirits of the dead that the warlike people of
the North made war without timidity, and successfully entered into suits
of ejectment. These daring champions often braved the indignation even
of the superior deities of their mythology, rather than allow that there
existed any being before whom their boldness could quail. Such is the
singular story how a young man of high courage, in crossing a desolate
ridge of mountains, met with a huge waggon, in which the goddess, Freya
(_i.e._, a gigantic idol formed to represent her), together with her
shrine, and the wealthy offerings attached to it, was travelling from
one district of the country to another. The shrine, or sanctuary of the
idol, was, like a modern caravan travelling with a show, screened by
boards and curtains from the public gaze, and the equipage was under the
immediate guidance of the priestess of Freya, a young, good-looking, and
attractive woman. The traveller naturally associated himself with the
priestess, who, as she walked on foot, apparently was in no degree
displeased with the company of a powerful and handsome young man, as a
guide and companion on the journey. It chanced, however, that the
presence of the champion, and his discourse with the priestess, was less
satisfactory to the goddess than to the parties principally concerned.
By a certain signal the divinity summoned the priestess to the
sanctuary, who presently returned, with tears in her eyes and terror in
her countenance, to inform her companion that it was the will of Freya
that he should depart, and no longer travel in their company. "You must
have mistaken the meaning of the goddess," said the champion; "Freya
cannot have formed a wish so unreasonable as to desire I should abandon
the straight and good road, which leads me directly on my journey, to
choose precipitous paths and by-roads, where I may break my neck."
"Nevertheless," said the priestess, "the goddess will be highly offended
if you disobey her commands, nor can I conceal from you that she may
personally assault you." "It will be at her own peril if she should be
so audacious," said the champion, "for I will try the power of this axe
against the strength of beams and boards." The priestess chid him for
his impiety; but being unable to compel him to obey the goddess's
mandate, they again relapsed into familiarity, which advanced to such a
point that a clattering noise within the tabernacle, as of machinery put
in motion, intimated to the travellers that Freya, who perhaps had some
qualities in common with the classical Vesta, thought a personal
interruption of this tête-à-tête ought to be deferred no longer. The
curtains flew open, and the massive and awkward idol, who, we may
suppose, resembled in form the giant created by Frankenstein, leapt
lumbering from the carriage, and, rushing on the intrusive traveller,
dealt him, with its wooden hands and arms, such tremendous blows, as
were equally difficult to parry or to endure. But the champion was armed
with a double-edged Danish axe, with which he bestirred himself with so
much strength and activity, that at length he split the head of the
image, and with a severe blow hewed off its left leg. The image of Freya
then fell motionless to the ground, and the demon which had animated it
fled yelling from the battered tenement. The champion was now victor;
and, according to the law of arms, took possession of the female and the
baggage. The priestess, the divinity of whose patroness had been by the
event of the combat sorely lessened in her eyes, was now easily induced
to become the associate and concubine of the conqueror. She accompanied
him to the district whither he was travelling, and there displayed the
shrine of Freya, taking care to hide the injuries which the goddess had
received in the brawl. The champion came in for a share of a gainful
trade driven by the priestess, besides appropriating to himself most of
the treasures which the sanctuary had formerly contained. Neither does
it appear that Freya, having, perhaps, a sensible recollection of the
power of the axe, ever again ventured to appear in person for the
purpose of calling her false stewards to account.
The national estimation of deities, concerning whom such stories could
be told and believed, was, of course, of no deep or respectful
character. The Icelanders abandoned Odin, Freya, Thor, and their whole
pagan mythology, in consideration of a single disputation between the
heathen priests and the Christian missionaries. The priests threatened
the island with a desolating eruption of the volcano called Hecla, as
the necessary consequence of the vengeance of their deities. Snorro, the
same who advised the inquest against the ghosts, had become a convert to
the Christian religion, and was present on the occasion, and as the
conference was held on the surface of what had been a stream of lava,
now covered with vegetable substances, he answered the priests with much
readiness, "To what was the indignation of the gods owing when the
substance on which we stand was fluid and scorching? Believe me, men of
Iceland, the eruption of the volcano depends on natural circumstances
now as it did then, and is not the engine of vengeance intrusted to Thor
and Odin." It is evident that men who reasoned with so much accuracy
concerning the imbecility of Odin and Thor were well prepared, on
abandoning their worship, to consider their former deities, of whom they
believed so much that was impious, in the light of evil demons.
But there were some particulars of the Northern creed in which it
corresponded so exactly with that of the classics as leaves room to
doubt whether the original Asæ, or Asiatics, the founders of the
Scandinavian system, had, before their migration from Asia, derived them
from some common source with those of the Greeks and Romans; or whether,
on the other hand, the same proneness of the human mind to superstition
has caused that similar ideas are adopted in different regions, as the
same plants are found in distant countries without the one, as far as
can be discovered, having obtained the seed from the others.
The classical fiction, for example, of the satyrs and other subordinate
deities of wood and wild, whose power is rather delusive than
formidable, and whose supernatural pranks intimate rather a wish to
inflict terror than to do hurt, was received among the Northern people,
and perhaps transferred by them to the Celtic tribes. It is an idea
which seems common to many nations. The existence of a satyr, in the
silvan form, is even pretended to be proved by the evidence of Saint
Anthony, to whom one is said to have appeared in the desert. The
Scottish Gael have an idea of the same kind, respecting a goblin called
_Ourisk_, whose form is like that of Pan, and his attendants something
between a man and a goat, the nether extremities being in the latter
form. A species of cavern, or rather hole, in the rock, affords to the
wildest retreat in the romantic neighbourhood of Loch Katrine a name
taken from classical superstition. It is not the least curious
circumstance that from this silvan deity the modern nations of Europe
have borrowed the degrading and unsuitable emblems of the goat's visage
and form, the horns, hoofs, and tail, with which they have depicted the
author of evil when it pleased him to show himself on earth. So that the
alteration of a single word would render Pope's well-known line more
truly adapted to the fact, should we venture to read--
"And Pan to _Satan_ lends his heathen horn."
We cannot attribute the transferrence of the attributes of the Northern
satyr, or Celtic ourisk, to the arch-fiend, to any particular
resemblance between the character of these deities and that of Satan. On
the contrary, the ourisk of the Celts was a creature by no means
peculiarly malevolent or formidably powerful, but rather a melancholy
spirit, which dwelt in wildernesses far removed from men. If we are to
identify him with the Brown Dwarf of the Border moors, the ourisk has a
mortal term of life and a hope of salvation, as indeed the same high
claim was made by the satyr who appeared to St. Anthony. Moreover, the
Highland ourisk was a species of lubber fiend, and capable of being
over-reached by those who understood philology. It is related of one of
these goblins which frequented a mill near the foot of Loch Lomond, that
the miller, desiring to get rid of this meddling spirit, who injured the
machinery by setting the water on the wheel when there was no grain to
be grinded, contrived to have a meeting with the goblin by watching in
his mill till night. The ourisk then entered, and demanded the miller's
name, and was informed that he was called _Myself_; on which is founded
a story almost exactly like that of OUTIS in the "Odyssey," a tale
which, though classic, is by no means an elegant or ingenious fiction,
but which we are astonished to find in an obscure district, and in the
Celtic tongue, seeming to argue some connexion or communication between
these remote Highlands of Scotland and the readers of Homer in former
days, which we cannot account for. After all, perhaps, some Churchman
more learned than his brethren may have transferred the legend from
Sicily to Duncrune, from the shores of the Mediterranean to those of
Loch Lomond. I have heard it also told that the celebrated freebooter,
Rob Roy, once gained a victory by disguising a part of his men with
goat-skins, so as to resemble the _ourisk_ or Highland satyr.
There was an individual satyr called, I think, Meming, belonging to the
Scandinavian mythology, of a character different from the ourisk, though
similar in shape, whom it was the boast of the highest champions to seek
out in the solitudes which he inhabited. He was an armourer of extreme
dexterity, and the weapons which he forged were of the highest value.
But as club-law pervaded the ancient system of Scandinavia, Meming had
the humour of refusing to work for any customer save such as compelled
him to it with force of arms. He may be, perhaps, identified with the
recusant smith who fled before Fingal from Ireland to the Orkneys, and
being there overtaken, was compelled to forge the sword which Fingal
afterwards wore in all his battles, and which was called the Son of the
dark brown Luno, from the name of the armourer who forged it.[21]
[Footnote 21: The weapon is often mentioned in Mr. MacPherson's
paraphrases; but the Irish ballad, which gives a spirited account of the
debate between the champion and the armourer, is nowhere introduced.]