THE TERRIBLE ONE’S HORSE:

REVEALING THE SECRETS OF NORSE MYTH

By

August Hunt

First Published in 2012 by Stag Spirit Books

THE TERRIBLE ONE’S HORSE:

REVEALING THE SECRETS OF NORSE MYTH

Copyright © Daniel August Hunt

October 7, 2012

Cover art by Elena Turtle

FOR MY WISHMAIDEN

Hillarie

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

August Hunt published his first short stories in his high school newspaper, “The Wildcat Wire”. These were followed by stories and poems in “The Phoenix” literary magazine of Clark Community College, where he received a writing scholarship. Transferring to The Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington State, he continued to publish pieces in local publications and was awarded the Edith K. Draham literary prize.

A few years after graduating with a degree in Celtic and Germanic Studies, he published “The Road of the Sun: Travels of the Zodiac Twins in Near Eastern and European Myth”. Leading magazine contributions include a cover article on the ancient Sinaguan culture of the American Southwest for Arizona Highways.

August has published six other books to date: “The Mysteries of Avalon: An Introduction to Arthurian Druidism”, “The Arthur of History: A Reinterpretation of the Evidence” , “The Real Moses and His God”, “A New Theory on Atlantis”, “Christ and Revelation” and “Soulrender” (a novel). All six are in print and available through Amazon.com and Barnes & Noble.

A PREFATORY NOTE TO THE READER

This book is a collection of essays on various aspects of Germanic/Norse mythology and religion.  All were written in the past few years and although originally I did not intend for them to form a cohesive whole, it occurred to me recently that perhaps I should revise the earlier ones and polish the newer and then make all of them available in book form.  While the range of material is not entirely comprehensive, the different pieces of the whole do dovetail fairly well and all interrelate to each other on one or more levels.  There is some inevitable overlap, but I’ve tried hard to avoid excessive repetition or redundancy. It is my hope that anyone who has an interest in the subject, and in particular those who consider themselves adherents of the old Eddaic-derived faith, may enjoy and even appreciate some of the interpretations I offer. If any of my findings, no matter how theoretical they may be, actually benefit the reader, then my rationale in preparing this volume will have been amply justified.

My only caution would be that this is NOT an introductory treatment of Norse myth.  Some knowledge of the Eddas and related matter is assumed.

Two essays on aspects of Viking history are appended.

August Hunt

TABLE OF CONTENTS

1) Asatru and the ‘Pure Nordic Race’: A Modern Misappropriation of an All-Inclusive Ancient Religion… Page 13

2) Sleipnir: The “Slippery” Horse of Odin… Page 25

3) A Thought on Huginn and Muninn, Odin’s Ravens… Page 28

4) The Valknut: A Reappraisal of Odin’s Knot of the Slain… Page 30

5) Bear-Shirts and Wolf-Coats: Odin’s Sacred Warriors as Solar and Lunar Fraternities?... Page 37

6) The Runic Word ‘Alu’ and Starkad Aludreng… Page 47

7) Lords of Opposition and Completion: The Giants as the Negative Aspect of the Divine… Page 58

8) Loki, Mischief-Making Companion of Odin and Thor… Page 61

9) Who was Frigg?: The Interpretatio Romano of Venus and the Real Identity of Odin’s Wife… Page 63

10) Volund the Smith, Prince of Elves: The Forging of Life and Death… Page 68

11) ‘And You’ll Be Fairies All’: A Very Brief Treatment of the Nature of Fairies and Their Origins… Page 78

12) Andvari’s Ring and the Brisingamen Necklace… Page 88

13) Who was Hagen/Hogni, the Murderer of Siegfried/Sigurd?... Page 96

14) Speaker of Secrets: Prophecy and the Head of Mimir… Page 103

15) Mithothyn as Odin of the Tree/Gallows… Page 108

16) Nine Nights on the Tree: Odin’s Self-Sacrifice and His Obtaining of the Runes… Page 114

17) The Mead of Poetry: Elixir of the Muse and of Eternal Life… Page 120

18) A Brief Essay on Norse Cosmography… Page 125

19) Why I Believe the Irminsul is Still Standing: A Note on the Christianization of a Pagan Germanic Shrine… Page 139

20) The Externstiene Bas Relief: An Easter Sky Portrait Depicting the Substitution of the Christian Cross for the Pagan Irminsul?... Page 146

21) The “Eoten” Grendel: From Jutish Governor to Planetary Myth… Page 149

22) Beowulf and the Dragon I: The Quest For Two Barrows… Page 161

23) Beowulf and the Dragon II: Ancient Cult and Hero’s Death… Page 179

24) The Forever War of the Aesir and Vanir: Slaying and Being Slain for the Goddess… Page 188

25) On the Mound with Eggther: Towards a Viking ‘Book of the Dead’… Page 205

26) What Odin Whispered in Balder’s Ear: The Death of the Pagan Christ… Page 255

27) Reflections on Vigrid/Oskopnir and Idavoll: The Norse World During and After Ragnarok… Page 268

28) The Norse and the British Morris Dances Page 280

29) I Took Up the Runes: The Spells of Odin from Havamal… Page 288

30)  Robin Hood, Hott/Odin, Haethcyn and Hod: An Ancient Germanic Prototype for the Outlaw Legend?... Page 300

31)  A New Identification of the Battle of Brunanburh… Page 325

32)  My Take on the Vinland Expedition of Thorfinn Karlsefni… Page 334

33) The Grave of Starkad the Old… Page 354

ASATRU AND THE ‘PURE NORDIC RACE’: A MODERN MISAPPROPRIATION OF AN ALL-INCLUSIVE ANCIENT RELIGION

For most of my adult life, I have revelled in the Norse sagas and Eddas.  I first discovered the Volsunga Saga and the Prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson when I learned that Tolkien had used elements from these sources to compose his fantasy books.  More than any other book read during my late teens, the Prose Edda held a deep fascination for me.  To this day, I never tire of its magnificent catalog of ancient Norse myths.

When I was reading such sources, I had no idea that the religion that was embedded (some might say ‘codified’) in the Eddas had been perverted beyond all recognition by Adolf Hitler’s Nationalistic propaganda machine.  I was also ignorant of the fact that the works of the late 19th century German philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche had likewise been commandeered by Hitler (although he himself appears to have been quite ignorant of Nietzsche’s actual philosophy) or that the same had been done to the works of the 19th century composer Richard Wagner.  Granted, Wagner has been found guilty of anti-Semitism (although there is also documentary evidence that he retracted some of his statements) and so his works already bore the stamp of Nazi approval.  I was blissfully unaware of this last when I acquired a love for the music of Wagner's Ring cycle opera.  To me, although his adaptation of the Sigurd/Siegfried story seemed odd and at times illogical, it was still a powerful piece of art that made splendid use of one of my favorite heroic myths.

But ignorance is no excuse.  When it was pointed out to me in college that I was enjoying myths that were adhered to by Neo-Nazis in America (and presumably elsewhere), I was horrified.  And not a little embarrassed.  Yet when I researched the matter, it became clear to me that the whole association of the ancient Norse or Germanic religion with Nazism was founded in falsehood.  This fact has long been known by the legitimate followers of Asatru, who have constantly and passionately spoken out against the ethnic views of Skinheads and affiliated ‘Pure Race’ radicals.

To begin, anyone who reads the sagas and the Eddas will not be able to find contained within them a single instance of racism.  Not one.  And I challenge anyone who thinks they can produce such to do so.  The Vikings were capable of worshipping different gods or groups of gods.  There is no evidence of conflict deriving from groups worshipping different deities (other than the usual conflict involving paganism versus Christianity), although there is some suggestion that social stratification within Norse society was reflected in the worship of Thor and Odin, for example.  Vikings were often ‘eased into’ the Christian fold by being offered as sort of preliminary baptism called prime-signing.  This allowed them to legally trade, etc., with Christians.  There are saga accounts of Vikings worshipping Thor and Christ simultaneously.  In one classic narrative, a Norseman calls on Christ for some things, but when things really got bad, he called on Thor.  If nothing else, the Vikings were very practical about their religion.  They were not beyond tossing an idol of a god into a river if the god did not deliver what was expected of him.  There were also ‘godless’ Vikings who followed Luck or who simply believed in themselves or their own pseudo-magical strength.

Vikings not only raided, but settled.  And where they settled, if the country was inhabited already by a foreign people, they very quickly assimilated the new culture.  In other words, they INTERMARRIED with non-Norse populations.  The Normans or ‘Northmen’, who first established a kingdom in Normandy, are perhaps the best example of a Scandinavian invasion force that within not too many generations had become in many ways indistinguishable from the natives, although they did retain prominent aspects of their own Viking traditions.

We have ample evidence of similar assimilation of Vikings with native peoples in eastern Europe, where the Rus or Swedish Vikings came down the rivers, initially to trade or raid, but then formed settlements.  The Rus, who gave their name to Russia, intermarried extensively with the native population.  Eventually, as is made clear by a reading of the Russian Primary Chronicle, their princes began to first bear names that were Slavic equivalents of Viking names, and then they began to take Slavic names.

In Britain and Ireland, the same thing happened.  Conflict with the Anglo-Saxons and the Irish gave way to settlement, interbreeding and the inevitable admixture of cultures.  Countless examples can be found to demonstrate this.  One of the easiest to look at are Scandinavian names of the early period, some of which are not actually Scandinavian names at all, but Celtic names – like Kormakr (= Irish Cormac). We have records involving Icelandic settlers to prove that Celtic slaves were not only taken with the Norsemen to Iceland, but that they could be taken as wives or concubines, and the children's cultural heritage was acknowledged in their birth names.  These Celtic slaves could be freed and thus became free men within the Icelandic Commonwealth.

It is also important to emphasize that the whole concept of nationalism was unknown to the pagan Vikings.  Nationalism only came along with Christian kings of the Scandinavian countries and it was a rather late development.  And even with such nascent nationalism, we cannot find any trace of the notion of one nation being racially superior to the others.  This whole concept would be totally alien and incomprehensible to the Vikings and their medieval descendents.  It is true that Christianity brought with it the usual intolerance of other religions, in so far as anyone who was not of the Christian religion – and of the approved sort of Christian religion – were by their very nature pagan and thus to be viewed as enemies.  But this is not at all the same thing as proclaiming one race, by virtue of its supposed purity, to be superior to all others.

Genetic research has shown and continues to show that there is no such thing as a pure race.  From the earliest times, people traveled, traded, raided and colonized.  Slaves were brought back from distant lands and their genes filtered into those of the resident population.  The idea of the pure race is a myth, and the absolute worse kind of myth.  Not only is it totally unsubstantiated by science, but there are those who make use of manipulated genealogies in an effort to show pure extraction.  The problem with genealogies is that if we were to trace them back far enough – farther than is, of course, possible – we would find out that at some point in our evolutionary development we are ALL DERIVED FROM THE SAME GENETIC ANCESTORS. Science has recently sought and perhaps found a prototypical 'Adam and Eve' from which the entire human species descends.

Some would argue that there are other components of Asatru or its Viking antecedent which make it objectionable.  Human sacrifice, especially as this is found expressed in Odinism, is one of those less desirable characteristics.  However, I am not myself aware of any legitimate Asatruar who today accepts the notion of human sacrifice as a tenet of their belief system.  Nor am I aware of any who practice it!  Instead, they rightly acknowledge that sacrifice to Odin doubtless did exist in the Viking and pre-Viking periods.  In acknowledging it, they then try to understand why it was done, chiefly so that they may discern the religious symbolism attendant upon it.  They can then SUBLIMATE the practice, by making suitable SUBSTITUTIONS for human beings.  Thus the significance and power of a ritual is maintained, without harming humans or, for that matter, animals.

There is ample evidence of human sacrifice in ancient times among pretty much all peoples.  The Celts indulged in it; we have actual physical evidence in the form of bog bodies.  Where we lack evidence, we can find strong contextual clues in myths.  Greece and Rome, the cornerstones of our Western civilization, were not immune to such a practice, even if only in their infancy.  Other peoples in other continents likewise went through a period in which human sacrifice was practiced.  The New World is replete with the likes of the Maya and Incas and Aztecs, great and very advanced peoples who sometimes practiced human sacrifice on a massive scale. As a pagan friend has recently reminded me, the very foundation of Christianity is the sacrifice of its god.

In conclusion, I find the misappropriation of Asatru by Neo-Nazis and their ilk to be reprehensible and unacceptable.  The Asatruar, unfortunately, will have to continue their battle against the mistaken view that their faith involves the notion of racial purity.  My own ancestry, although I take pride in the tiny trace of Welsh blood that runs in my veins, is primarily German, Polish, Dutch, English and (swears one member of my family, while another vociferously denounces the claim) Huron.  My father’s father’s people came from the Black Forest region.  If I were of the sort that believed that only those of Germanic or Norse extraction had a right to claim themselves Asatruar, I suppose based upon my German blood alone I could do so.  But the Asatruar I know are more than willing to allow others to adopt their faith, if these others do so IN GOOD FAITH.  In this day and age when we are FREE to find a spiritual path that “resonates” with us, any path that restricts its membership based on ethnic extraction should be avoided and criticized.

I would add, finally, that I refuse to discuss the views I have outlined above with anyone who holds to Neo-Nazi derived philosophies.  I try very hard to be a tolerant person, but I’ve long ago learned that I’m intolerant of intolerance.  I will not debate with the Neo-Nazis because they have absolutely nothing with which to debate.  They are peddlers of hate and its corollary, violence - angry white men who cloak themselves in the illusion/delusion of racial purity and superiority, who assign scapegoats to take on their own deficiencies, feelings of shame and self-loathing, sins and evil inclinations and impulses.  As such, they are to be condemned and justly vilified by any society that treasures respect for all peoples, of whatever race or creed.

I have good German friends who abhor Nazism.  While they accept what Hitler did as part of their history, and they are extremely well-versed in the causes and forces that ultimately are responsible for bringing Hitler to power (the United States and the rest of Europe are far from innocent in this regard), they also feel, ironically, a sense of ethnic shame, even though the sins of the fathers do NOT fall upon the shoulders of the sons and daughters. At the same time, many still display pride in a family member who fought bravely and perhaps died heroically during World War II.  What these German friends have expressed to me, almost uniformly, is the same ambivalence towards this period in their country’s history as we Americans display when faced with the unpleasant topics of Black Slavery, the near-extermination, displacement and systematic cultural destruction of the Native Americans, the imprisonment of Japanese US citizens during the war or McCarthyism.  All nations have (and some still do) horrible things to other or to their own peoples.  Revisionist history, used to show that the Holocaust did not occur, could well be extended to the American treatment of Blacks, Native Americans, interred Japanese and McCarthyism.  This would make all us “white folks” feel better about each other, and expunge from our historical records any and all repugnant episodes.  Of course, history forgotten tends to repeat itself.  With a clean slate, what religious/ethnic group would we go after next?  How about pagans? How about Asatruar?  If we have not learned the lessons of the witch hunts and the Inquisition, who will teach us what is right or wrong?

NOTE: THE SWASTIKA AND ITS MODERN USE OR ABUSE

Should modern Asatruar flaunt the swastika, a known ancient Germanic symbol?  Or should they avoid using this magico-religious symbol out of respect for Jewish people, as one form of the symbol was used by Hitler and continues to be used by Neo-Nazis?

I do think that to use the swastika in an unqualified manner is something that cannot be justified.  Pagan or ethnic pride, the “I have a right to wear X because it is part of my cultural heritage”, does not fly. Inconsiderate stubbornness or "thumbing one's nose" does not excuse terrifying or offending Jews, who were massacred and otherwise victimized under Hitler’s Swastika-bedecked regime.  Shall we encourage people to walk around sporting Ku Klux Klan robes and hoods?  Someone could say, ‘Well, I don’t subscribe to the views of the Ku Klux Klan, but it is part of my heritage – my great, great grandfather was a Grand Dragon – so I think I have a right to wear the costume.’  Such an expression of a perceived right due to heritage is absurd and ethically insupportable.

This DOES NOT MEAN the swastika has to be done away with entirely.  It can be restricted to private Asatru ceremonies – in which its quality as a representation of the sun wheel (or lightning?) is emphasized.  If shown PUBLICLY, whether on one’s person or on a sign, etc., a notice should be posted with/on/beside the image briefly explaining its origin and significance and proper affiliation, including a STRONG DISAVOWAL of the use of the symbol by Hitler, the Nazis or any of their ilk.  As the swastika in one form or the other is found anciently AND CURRENTLY in many countries around the world, we must always remember THAT THERE IS NOTHING INHERENTLY WRONG with the symbol itself.  It is only the Nazi MISUSE of the symbol which must be abrogated.    I am, therefore, advocating a disclaimer, of sorts.

In the Middle Ages, some Christians launched large-scale pogroms against the Jews.  I do not intend for this statement to be inflammatory; I do not hold modern Catholics responsible for the crimes committed in the past by a militant minority who were avowedly members of the same institution.  But if Asatruar are not permitted to show their swastika because Hitler adopted it for his vile uses, should Christians be prohibited from using the Cross as their chief icon because it also was born by those persecuting the Jews?

I have found Jewish people, as a whole, to be a very intelligent, well-educated and reasonable lot.  Many Jews are non-practicing and may be agnostic or even atheistic, with a clearly defined scientific bent of mind.   I would like to believe that if they could be assured beyond a shadow of a doubt that a swastika I was using had absolutely NOTHING to do with Nazism and everything to do with Asatru, that they may relent and allow my usage of the symbol for my own magico-religious purposes.  The same may not be true, however, for Orthodox Jews and certainly not for Zealots.  Where and when it is appropriate to use the swastika must then be carefully considered on a case by case basis.

FURTHER OBJECTIONS TO THE MISUSE OF NORSE RELIGIOUS MOTIFS:

1) The Death Metal cult has no understanding of Ragnarok or Odinism and its use of either is, frankly, an abomination.

2) Designations such as “kindred” for Asatruar should be dispensed with.  They have distinct negative connotations, implying exclusivity, i.e. a closed, family-only or racially related group opposed to membership drawn from outside its narrowly perceived world-view.  Such groups often jealously guard what they consider their own private cultural/ethnic traditions and values.

3) Also to be avoided is the dependency on patriarchal or matriarchal authority figures, loosely patterned after the godar or district chieftain-priests of the Icelandic Commonwealth; they too readily become identifiable as cult leaders who exert undue control over the lives of their followers.

SLEIPNIR: THE “SLIPPERY” HORSE OF ODIN

Some fascinating theories have been proposed for the natural or supernatural basis of Odin’s horse, Sleipnir, ‘slipper’ or ‘sliding one’ (see Rudolf Simek’s Dictionary of Northern Mythology; the name is plainly derived from ON sleipr, ‘slippery)’.  Among these are (see also H.R. Ellis Davidson’s Gods and Myths of Northern Europe):

1) a celestial steed with eight legs who has his origin on the Gotland Picture Stones, where the multiplicity of legs on the horse is meant to indicate speed (much as we do in our modern era with cartoons)

2) the eight-legged horse represents the bier of a dead man, born by four men, who themselves have eight legs

3) the horse is akin to the shamanistic Wind Horse or Khiimori of Tengriism, a symbolic representation of the human soul or perhaps, rather, the vehicle which transports the human soul after death

4) the eight legs are a substitute for the eight spokes of some European sun wheels, found on rock carvings, for example

5) that Sleipnir is the same as Yggdrasill, the ‘Terrible One’s Horse’, a designation for the Sky-Tree of Norse mythology

The only idea that truly stands up to comparative scrutiny is No. 5 above.  Sleipnir is gray because that is the color of the bark of the ash tree, i.e. Yggdrasill.  And his eight legs?  Well, in Aado Lintrop’s “The Great Oak and Brother-Sister” (FOLKLORE, Vol. 16, 2001: http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol16/oak2.pdf), we learn of the great World Tree of the Yakuts:

“Realising that this should be the edge of his earth, he wondered where does the thick tree with branches in eight spheres end, and when he rose to see – it grew through the Yakut man’s small world, grew through the three spheres of the white sky, turned into the main black enamelled silver horse-hitching post of the God of the White Master (Ürüng Ai Tojoon), who drank the white milk food and ate on the spread ysyahh. He had the ysyahh pole of the cream-coloured horse, the high pillar of the white horse, the hitching post of a mouse-coloured horse with the constantly ascending full moon, with the never setting sun that rotated on the vault of heaven [---] (Hudiakov 1890: 250)

Another account of the World Tree, recorded from the Yakuts, bears strong resemblance to the great birch of the Mordvinian folk songs:

A thick tree of eight branches grows on the yellow navel of the eight-faceted world. Its bark is of niello silver, gnarls of silver, cambium of gold, cones like beakers with nine protruding handles, leaves like the skin of a four-year-old mare. White sülügüi [the nectar of the gods] of the White Master’s God (Ürüng Ai Tojoon) gathers foam, the yellow sülügüi of the White Master’s God is iridescent, sloshy. Hungry passers-by eat, tired ones rest, the hungry will recuperate, the tired will fatten. (Hudiakov 1890: 112–113)”

Here we have a sky tree, associated with horses, with eight branches – which in the Norse system are represented as the eight legs of Sleipnir/Yggdrasill.  We’ve long known that Odin’s hanging from the World Tree was poetically conceived of as “riding the gallow’s horse”, and the same expression is used for hanged men.  Thus the metaphors of tree and horse are fused and both become interchangeable symbols for the heavens that turn on the North Pole-North Star axis.

The sky-horse “travels” in the sense that the dome of heaven turns and, as it does so, different portions of it set into and rise from the underworld in accordance with seasonal fluctuations.

A THOUGHT ON HUGINN AND MUNINN, ODIN’S RAVENS

It has long been known that Huginn means ‘Thought’, while Muginn means, perhaps, ‘of the Mind’.  According to Rudolf Simek, ‘Attempts have been made to interpret Odin’s ravens as a personification of the god’s intellectual powers…”  Yet as Simek also points out, Odin is shown accompanied by birds as early as the 6th and 7th centuries (Vendel Age).

Not much work has been done to seriously consider K. Hauck’s idea that the ravens “are bird-shaped valkyries”.  Simek concludes that “this claim seems to be somewhat extreme.”  It would not appear to be safe to compare such birds of the battlefield, eaters of the slain, with Irish goddesses who are known to take the form of crows or ravens, e.g. Badb, 'Crow'.

Yet I would refer readers to the wonderful Greek mythology Website Theoi, for the following discussion of the goddess Athena’s birth:

http://www.theoi.com/Olympios/AthenaMyths.html#Birth

To quote but one version of the birth-tale:

Hesiod, Theogony 929a ff :

"Zeus lay with the fair-cheeked daughter of Okeanos and Tethys apart from Hera ((lacuna)) … deceiving Metis (Thought) although she was full wise. But he seized her with his hands and put her in his belly, for fear that she might bring forth something stronger than his thunderbolt: therefore did Zeus, who sits on high and dwells in the aether, swallow her down suddenly. But she straightway conceived Pallas Athene: and the father of men and gods gave her birth by way of his head on the banks of the river Trito. And she remained hidden beneath the inward parts of Zeus, even Metis, Athena's mother, worker of righteousness, who was wiser than gods and mortal men. There the goddess (Athena) received that [her arms] whereby she excelled in strength all the deathless ones who dwell in Olympos, she who made the host-scaring weapon of Athena. And with it [Zeus) gave her birth, arrayed in arms of war."

Knowing as we do the enduring power of certain Indo-European mythological motifs, is it unreasonable to suggest that just as Athena the war goddess, whose sacred bird was the owl, was born from the head of the sky-father Zeus, so, too, were the valkyries as ravens born from the head of Odin?

Odin's head, being the womb of 'Thought', of things 'of the Mind', could thus be viewed as giving birth to the Choosers of the Slain.

THE VALKNUT: A REAPPRAISAL OF ODIN'S KNOT OF THE SLAIN

A great many theories have been advanced in an attempt to explain the nature and significance of the Norse symbol known to modern scholarship as the ‘valknut’ or “knot of the slain”.  Some of these theories are ingenious, even plausible, while others apply modern sensibilities and ideas to an ancient icon in ways that can be described as either fanciful or absurd.  In the argument that follows, I hope to show that those who would relate the valknut to Snorri Sturluson’s Hrungnir’s Heart are, in all likelihood, correct.  In addition, I will explore exactly what it is the Hrungnir’s Heart symbol represents in the context of the Gotland Picture Stones.

We must begin by understanding what is being stated in the myth of Hrungnir and Thor’s duel in Sturluson’s Prose Edda.  The motif is an incredibly ancient one: as far back as Mesopotamian religion, we are told of a battle between thunder gods in the mountains.  As Thorkild Jacobsen and others have noted, there was a tendency early on for one of the dueling thunder gods to be vilified.  This was usually accomplished by converting a combatant into a monster that must be slain.  For the Mesopotamians, this opponent of the chief thunder god was called the Anzu or Imdugud bird and was visualized as a thundercloud-eagle.  It is possible that an enemy’s thunder god was portrayed thusly, and was made the victim of a native deity.

In the case of Hrungnir (‘brawler, rioter’; see Simek), we have a giant who is accompanied by an assistant, Mokkurkalfi (‘fog-leg or fog-shin’, according to Simek, although Old Norse mokkr means ‘dense cloud’).  We are told Mokkurcalfi is made of clay and he has the heart of a mare.  Hrungnir, on the other hand, has a three-cornered heart of stone.  The giant also has a shield which he at one point stands upon in an attempt to ward himself from Thor’s attack from below.  I should note that is was customary in saga accounts of duels for the champions to be ‘seconded’ by chosen companions.  These companions generally offered shield service to the duelers.

The first thing to realize in this account is that Mokkurkalfi  or ‘Cloud-leg’ is a very apt poetic description of a towering thunder cloud (he is said to be nine miles tall, etc.) whose “leg” is the dense rain that issues from the cloud. A thundercloud appears, after all, to “stand” upon its pillar or column or “leg” or rain.  The “clay” he is said to be made of is the same clay used by the Norns to bathe the world-tree Yggdrasill: it is symbolic language for the clouds of heaven.

Hrungnir is both the twin and antithesis of Thor.  We can know this because he possesses a whetstone, a shard of which becomes stuck in Thor’s forehead.  This whetstone can be compared with the reginnaglr or ‘[divine] power-nail’ said to extrude from the forehead of the high-seat Thor pillars found in some Viking halls.  Simek discusses parallels to this emblem of the lightning which emerges from the foreheads of various Indo-European gods or heroes, and it is interesting that the New World Maya have a thunder god who has a flint celt as symbol of the lightning emerging from his forehead.

The question now becomes: what is the heart of Hrungnir?  If he is the thunder god as adversary, and his whetstone is a thunder stone not unlike the Roman Iuppiter Lapis, what is the three-cornered stone heart?

In the first place, there is the distinct possibility that Snorri’s reference to the heart being made of stone is an error for an earlier iconographic observation.  What I mean by this is that a valknut depicted ON A STONE may have later mistakenly been described as BEING MADE OF STONE.  We could also be dealing with a confusion of very similar words.  In Old Norse, stein or steinn is ‘stone’.  In some contractions, we may find this word written steina-.  This is remarkably close to Old Norse steina, ‘to stain, color, paint’, steinn, ‘a stain, a color’.  Runes are known to have been painted, and the valknuts on the Gotland Picture Stones were “stained”.  It is certainly possible that when Snorri says the heart was made of stone, what was originally meant is that the heart was “stained” or “colored” on stones.

Does any of this help with determining what the valknut/Hrungnir’s Heart symbol represented?  I believe so.  Although there may be “variants” on the valknut symbol itself (some associate it with a triangle formed of three linked drinking horns, or even with the kind of knotwork present under Odin’s horse Sleipnir on the Tjängvide stone), the two most important stones for our purpose are Stora Hammars I and Stora Hammars III.

On the first stone, the valknut appears in the sky, pointed down, as if issuing from a sky bird.  This is probably Odin’s eagle, and not one of his ravens Huginn (‘Thought’) and Muginn (‘Memory’), although another bird is being held by a warrior to the right on the same register.  The valknut is precisely located over a barrow mound and what may be its associated altar stone or ‘horg’ or perhaps a bautasteinn or memorial stone.  To the left of the valknut is a tree bearing a hanged man (or Odin himself?).  We note a man being inserted into the barrow, the interior of which is divided into compartments, much as is the one described for us in “Volsunga Saga”.

Stora Hammars III has a horse and rider being greeted by a horn-bearing female figure, ostensibly a valkyrie.  There are three valknuts under the horses body and legs, two pointed upright flanking one that is inverted, i.e. pointing to the ground.  The same motif is found in the stone from Tjängvide already mentioned.  There Odin on Sleipnir rides to the Otherworld barrow and is greeted by the horn-bearing goddess.

At this point, it is enlightening to briefly cover the section ‘The Journey Through the Wall of Fire’ in H.R. Ellis Davidson’s book “The Road to Hel”.  Here the author describes “the barrier between the worlds of the living and the dead” that “is marked by the cold fire that flickers around the barrows.”  The saga heroine Hervor “waded through the fire like smoke” in order to reach the barrow of her father Angantyr.  In “Grettir’s Saga”, the barrow of Karr the Old is ablaze with fire.  The ‘Saga of Egil and Asmund” has a barrier of flame that must be leapt before the underworld can be entered.  The story of Sigurd’s passing through the wall of flame to reach Brynhild is well known; the hero’s horse Grani is of the stock of Sleipnir.  In the “Lay of Svipdag”, the hero rides of horse of supernatural power through the ‘threatening flames” that block the entrance to the underworld.  Skirnir in his Lay must have a divine steed to bear him through ‘the dark and flickering flames’ that separate the world of the living from the world of the dead.  In the “Saga of Eirik Vidforla”, the hero passes through the fires and smoke of a dragon’s mouth (a motif showing probable Christian influence) in order to reach the otherworld.  Other examples are cited by Davidson, but these should be sufficient to show that the barrier of flame was a component of Norse funeral ritual and was manifested in that ritual through the practice of cremation.  Cremation of the body alone is known, but also recorded is the cremation of the king or hero in a ship that itself represents the fiery dragon.

Sometimes the steed of a god or hero is said the leap over the flame, while at other times whoever is brave enough to venture into the barrow or underworld must physically pass through the flames.  The fire surrounds or covers the barrow, which itself symbolized the earth-mountain into which the dead entered both physically and, more importantly, spiritually.  I would propose that this ‘fire’ was the heavenly fire contained within the thundercloud.  As such, it could also represent the lightning – as is the case with the inverted valknut issuing from the eagle on Stora Hammars I.  The lightning started fires on the ground.  Such fire was thus holy by virture of its origin and was used to cremate the dead.

When a warrior or king was burned, he symbolically “became one” with a celestial divinity. The sun and the moon both MUST PASS THROUGH THE FIERY CLOUDS before they can enter the underworld, the original location of Valholl or the ‘Hall of the Slain’.  Hence, humans who leap over or wade through fire in order to gain entrance to the barrow mound are replicating the actions of the sun and moon as they set into the earth after first passing through the fiery cloud.

As the valknut is found UNDER THE HORSE, just as we would expect to find the barrier of fire under Sleipnir the sky-horse or his kin, and the valknut appears IN HEAVEN, issuing from the Jupiter-eagle, I would interpret this important Viking symbol as an emblem for divine fire, either in the form in which it was thought to exist within the stormcloud, or in its extruded form of lightning, i.e. ‘fire from heaven’, and again in its form as the fire which consumed the funeral pyre and the dead.  I would further add that when one looks upon the dancing tongues of fire, one can often see the interlaced triangles of the valknut.

To argue that the valknut could not possibly represent the lightning because the lightning as hammer was Thor’s chief attribute is not very convincing.  Odin’s spear Gungnir, ‘the swinging or swaying one’, is a typical lightning weapon.  As the sky-father whose eyes were sun and moon, some of his functions duplicated that of Thor-Jupiter.  The apparent Roman equation of Wotan/Wodan/Odin with Mercury is due merely to the former’s role as psychopomp and should not be taken seriously as an identification of the Germanic deity.

BEAR-SHIRTS AND WOLF-COATS: ODIN’S SACRED WARRIORS AS SOLAR AND LUNAR FRATERNITIES?

Part I: The Bear and the Sun

For those who are looking for a good recent study of shapeshifting in Norse literature, and its concomitant the berserksgangr, I would kindly refer you to the following two papers:

Stephan Grundy, "Shapeshifting and Berserkergang", in Translation, Transformation, and Transubstantiation, ed. Carol Poster and Richard Utz (Evanston: IL: Northwestern University Press, 1998), pp. 104–22.

Davidson, Hilda R. E. "Shape-Changing in Old Norse Sagas." In Animals in Folklore, Ed. Joshua R. Porter and William M. S. Russell. Cambridge: Brewer; Totowa: Rowman and Littlefield, 1978, pp. 126–42.

My only caveat to these excellent articles would that they place an over-reliance on a somewhat arbitrary division of the shapeshifting process into two general types.  Here, quoting from Grundy:

“…the changing of the body and the changing of the disembodied spirit (or spiritual manifestation of the human in the form of an animal).”

The actual physical transformation into animal form is a folkloric motif and can be discounted.  The confusion over a man who dressed like and acted like an animal, with convincing ferocity and brutality, and the actual animal itself would have been an easy one to make, especially by battle opponents of berserkers or ‘Bear-shirts’ (I adopt this reading of berserkr rather than the one that proposes a meaning of ‘bare-shirt’) and ulfhednar or ‘Wolf-coats’.  While I’m in no sense touting the historical accuracy of the Hollywood movie “The Thirteenth Warrior”, the filmmaker did an admirable job of showing how warriors dressed as bears – especially if they attacked at night – could be mistaken for real bears.

What we must see in the supposed physical transformation is instead two complementing factors: 1) a warrior is ‘armored’ and/or ritually dressed to resemble a bear and 2) his in-dwelling bear-like spirit is brought to the surface of his consciousness – or replaces his consciousness - and is unleashed to operate martially through his own human body.

Various means have been sought to explain how the ‘berserker rage’ was engendered.  The most common explanations so far tendered have to do with the ingestion of hallucinogenic compounds and/or alcohol.  The sagas do not support such theories and, indeed, we have several well-drawn characters who simply have a natural “berserker personality”, if you will. A person exhibiting such a personality could go into a fit of rage and inflict horrific acts of violence against the causal agent or even the redirected or misdirected focus of that rage.

The problem with hallucinogens and excessive alcohol consumption is that individuals “drugged” in such a manner are not effective fighters.  We do know that certain modern drugs (PCP or ‘Angel’s Dust’ and the newer “Bath Salts”) can create psychotic and manic states that include instances of apparent extraordinary strength and imperviousness to injury or wounds.  However, once again the saga evidence does not allow us to view the troupes of berserkers or ulfhednar serving kings as being unable to distinguish friend from foe because they were under the influence of psychotropic substances.  Bear-shirts and Wolf-coats did not flail about uncontrollably.  Their bestial might was DIRECTED at a foe in a calculated way and was part of the battle tactics of a Norse army.  Frequently they were put in the van of the host or at the prow of the ship as “shock troops”.  None of this suggests that the “animal warriors” were so deranged as to be as much a hindrance to those whose side they were on as they were a threat to their enemies.

I tend to think that we are dealing solely with an unqiue kind of religious fanaticism in the berserker/ulfhednar complex and see no reason to provide any additional impulse for their behavior.

In my opinion, there is one critical aspect of the Bear-shirt and Wolf-coat warrior fraternities that has been overlooked, and this component lies at the heart of the RELIGIOUS nature of these elite military units:

“… berserkers appear in the bodyguards of kings, often in groups or small units containing a specified number of troops, USUALLY TWELVE.” [emphasis mine, quoting from Neil S. Price’s THE VIKING WAY: RELIGION AND WAR IN LATE IRON AGE SCANDINAVIA, 2002, p. 367]

Although various scholars have echoed the observation that berserkers are mostly found in groups of twelve in the literature, to my knowledge no one has seem fit to answer a fairly obvious question.  Why twelve?

Twelve as a sacred number has very important connotations.  It is the preeminent solar number, as there are 12 solar months to the year and 12 zodiac signs in the same sacred calendar.  This being so, again why twelve berserkers?

The answer to this question may be embedded in earlier shamanistic beliefs of various circumpolar cultures.  Shamanism has been discussed in detail in so far as it relates to Norse accounts of the sending forth of one’s spirit in the form of animals – including those of bears (as is in the tale of Bodvar Bjarki). What has not been brought into this discussion is the solar symbolism of the bear itself.

Our most valuable resource for the bear’s connection with the sun in circumpolar tradition may well be the late Nikolai Konakov’s “Rationality and Mythological Foundations of Calendar Symbols of the Ancient Komi” (found in SHAMANISM AND NORTHERN ECOLOGY, ed. by Juha Pentikainen, 1996).  I will here quote rather extensively from Konakov’s study:

“The discovery in the Komi region of a unique picture of an ancient trade calendar and its subsequent study, have extended and deepened our understanding of the level of natural science and the worldview of the Uralic population.

Decipherment of the pictures in the calendar shows it to be a solar calendar.  The year began with the vernal equinox and was divided into periods (months) in accordance with the annual biological rhythms of animals hunted for trade.  These periods were denoted by nine symbols of various animals: bear, reindeer, ermine, wolverine, elk, otter, fox, squirrel, and marten…

The calendar depicts two solar phases (the vernal and autumnal equinoxes) by means of solar animals.  The symbols for these periods (bear and elk) covered by the phases were in opposition to one another, representing a binary code…

The use of he bear as the zoomorphic symbol of spring or (in the bipartite structure of the year) the spring-summer period is very archaic and universal.  It exists in the calendric rituals of many peoples: Russia, Austrian, Swiss, Polish, etc.  The emergence of the bear from its den announced the end of winter and the beginning of spring in Byelorussia, Italy, Rumania and France…

The elk is a zoomorphic symbol of the autumn or autumn-winter period in the ancient trade calendar.  The elk and the bear are widely used as the symbols of calendar opposition in the mythology of the Siberian peoples…

The bear is the active element in this zoomorphic code (day, spring, male power, destructive tendency), while a female, hoofed animal is the passive element (night, autumn, the female reproduction element, the concept of sacrifice)…

From the solar symbols of the elk (deer) nd the bear, typical of the North Eurasian peoples, it is but a short distance to the concept of bear = east = spring to the left and elk (deer) = west = autumn to the right…

The image of a bear embodies broad monozoomorphic symbolism in the solar calendar: each of its limbs represents one of the four seasons…

In zoomorphic symbolism, the calendar opposition of two equal yet contrasting seasons is clearly reflected in the species of animal: the beast of pretty in opposition to a herbivorous animal…”

To make this a bit clearer, one can compare the bear, who remains in the earth for the winter, with the winter sun at high latitudes, which for weeks at a time does not rise above the horizon.  In other words, mythologically speaking, the bear = the sun.

If the solar symbolism attending the bear was as pervasive in circumpolar cultures as Konakov claims, we might assume that it was also present in the Sami of northern Sweden, who practiced their own version of the Bear Cult.  The Sami shaman’s drum, itself a cosmogram, had as its central design the symbol for the sun (or sun goddess Beaivi), and one of the most common animals portrayed on the head of the drum with the sun is the bear (see, for example,  http://www.utexas.edu/courses/sami/diehtu/siida/religion/bearjw.htm and http://www.folklore.ee/folklore/vol47/joy.pdf ).

Professor Juha Pentikainen at the University of Helsinki has told me:

"There is a lot of information on the bear as solar symbol both in epic (e.g. Sami epic on the Daughter and Son of Sun) by Anders Fjellner and rock art (Okladnikov, etc.)."

Professor Neil S. Price has shown in his book THE VIKING WAY that Sami traditions seem to be paralleled by many Norse beliefs and burial customs and may, in fact, have exerted a profound influence on the development of Viking religious views. For the most recent study of the Bear Cult, see “The bear cult among the different ethnic groups of Russia (sacred Russian bear)”,  pp. 278-290,  by Robert E. F. Smith in Sacred Species and Sites: Advances in Biocultural Conservation, ed. by Gloria Pungetti, Gonzalo Oviedo and Della Hooke, Cambridge University Press, 2012.

Part II: The Wolf and the Moon

The ulfhednar of Odin are not nearly so difficult to associate with a major heavenly body.  Norse sources make it plain that Odin himself possessed two wolves, Geri (the ‘Greedy One’) and Freki (the ‘Ravenous One’ according to Simek, derived from Proto-Germanic *frekaz, but merely ‘Wolf’ elsewhere).  Freki is used as a descriptor for Garm in Voluspa 43, and for either the same hound or the bound Fenrir in Voluspa 48.  In some of the Finno-Ugric langauges, the wolf is ‘the dog of God’, and in Estonian tradition the animal is under the special protection of Ukko the sky-father.

Fenrir, whose name may contain the word for fen or swamp (cf. the Mansi and Khanty designation for the wolf as ‘the one who lives in the swamp’), meaning ‘Marsh-dweller’ or the like, is indisputably a lunar beast.  We know this because he bites off Tyr the Sky-Father’s solar hand. A lunar nature for the wolf is in keeping with the animal’s noctural habits.  The Garm of the Eddas is also known as Managarm, not so much ‘Mani’s or Moon’s Garm’ as ‘Moon-Garm’. According to Snorri Sturluson, Managarm will swallow the sun at Ragnarok.  Another name for this sun-devouring moon-wolf is Skoll.

The only wolf in the Eddas who would not seem to fit the lunar pattern is Skoll’s companion, Hati.  He is said to be pursuing the moon.  Scholars (see Simek again) have sought to associate the phenomenon known as the parhelion, called a “sun wolf” in Scandinavian languages and merely “sun-dog” here in the United States, with these devouring monsters.  However, the wolf is NOT a daytime animal, nor is its connection with the sun a reasonable conjecture.  Sun and moon bows, no matter how bright, cannot be viewed as “consumers” of the sun or moon.  No, the lunar nature of the wolf remains paramount and in the case of Hati, who will swallow the moon, I would consider him to be a manifestation of a strictly lunar eclipse and thus symbolic of the earth’s black shadow.

It may or may not be a coincidence that sometimes in the Norse literature we find not twelve berserkers, but thirteen.  This may in some contexts be explained as a parallel to Christ and his Twelve Apostles or similar groupings where the chief sun god and his twelve constituent monthly or zodiacal “selves” are separately designated.  But if the warrior group in question are not Bear-shirts and are instead Wolf-coats, then the number thirteen may well represent the thirteen months of the lunar year, as opposed to the twelve months of the solar one.

Icelandic sources give the famous Viking Arngrim 12 berserker sons, but in the history of Saxo Grammaticus the number is reduced to 9.  We find 9 brothers, sons of Volsung, consumed in the course of nine nights by a female werewolf in Volsunga Saga.  Nine is consistently employed as the number deemed sacred to the moon.

Both lunar and solar groups of warriors were naturally sacred to the sky-father Odin, whose very eyes are the sun and moon.

THE RUNIC WORD ‘ALU’ AND STARKAD ALUDRENG

For some time now, I've been working on the "problem" of Starkad and his being "gifted" with a fate both good and bad by the gods Odin and Thor.  My angle had to do with his epithet, Aludreng (the initial A- has an accent mark over it), itself the subject of a great deal of speculation.  A. LeRoy Andrews ("Studies in the Fornaldarsogur Nordrlanda II. The Hervarar Saga 4. The Constituent Parts of the Saga") offers the various interpretations given to Aludreng in the past.  None are wholly satisfactory.

The German linguist Thomas Markey first suggested the the runic word alu, which one might expect to become an ol- formation in Old Norse (the initial o having an umlaut over it), might have as its source the Rhetic alu, itself from Etuscan alu, 'giver/gift', a word used specifically on votives.  According to Markey, alu was both or either the gift (votive) and giver (dedicant) protected by the mysteries, and was thus “a talismanic term”.  Etruscan dictionaries now give al- as meaning 'to give, to donate, to offer', and the like.  Links to Markey's papers on the subject may be found here:

http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=...

http://journals.cambridge.org/action/displayAbstract?fromPage=online&aid=...

For an example of alu occurring in Rhetic inscriptions, see:

http://adolfozavaroni.tripod.com/bolzano.htm

Recently, I corresponded at some length with Dr. Bernard Mees on his work with the runic word alu.  His two papers provide what I personally feel to be a convincing argument for seeing the Germanic alu as ultimately derivative of the Rhetic word (“Alu and Hale II: ‘May Thor bless’*”, Journal of the Australian Early Medieval Association 5 (2009), pp. 107–31 and  Á austrvega. Saga and East Scandinavia. Preprint Papers of The 14th International Saga Conference Uppsala, 9th – 15th August 2009, edited by Agneta Ney, Henrik Williams and Fredrik Charpentier Ljungqvist, Papers from the Department of Humanities and Social Sciences 14. Gävle: Gävle University Press 2009).  Dr. Mees prefers to define alu as "dedication", which has a more specifically ritual connotation than merely "gift".

Dr. Mees also argues forcefully for alu having evolved a secondary and opposite meaning from 'gift', namely 'curse' or similar.  He lists precedents for such opposite word meanings in Latin, and there are examples one can cite in other languages.  The idea is that something holy may be bestowed, but that that thing - whether it is composed of spoken words or of a material object - may take either a positive or a negative form.

For even more on alu, see Dr. Mees's book with Mindy MacLeod, 'Runic Amulets and Magic Objects', made available here in pdf format:

http://bibleoteca.narod.ru/runy/MacLeod_Mees_Runic_Amulets.pdf

It was precisely this use of alu which reminded me of Starkad Aludreng.  It is not impossible that Aludreng (with the accented a, indicating an original dipthong au) could be a relic or fossilized form of earlier alu.  The personal name Ali (also with the accented a) can be written Ole.  But if we are going to draw a connection, no matter how tentatively, between alu and Aludreng, we must ask why Starkad may have been called such.

The answer may lie in a tradition recorded in Gautrek's Saga and the History of the Danes by Saxo Grammaticus.  The most detailed account is from the former and I will quote it here in full:

"Then just about midnight, Grani Horse-hair woke up his foster-sn Starkad and asked him to come along with him. They got a small boat and rowed over to another island. They walked through a wood until they came to a clearing where a large number of people were attending a meeting. There were eleven men sitting on chairs but a twelfth chair was empty. Starkad and his foster-father joined the assembly, and Grani Horse-hair seated himself on the twelfth chair. Everyone present greeted him by the name Odin, and he said that the judges would now have to decide on Starkad's fate.

Then Thor spoke up and said: 'Starkad's mother, Alfhild, preferred a brainy giant to Thor himself as the father of her son. So I ordain that Starkad himself shall have neither a son nor a daughter, and his family will end with him.'

Odin: 'I ordain that he shall live for three life spans.'

Thor: 'He shall commit a most foul deed in every one of them.'

Odin: 'I ordain that he shall have the best in weapons and clothing.'

Thor: 'I ordain that he shall have neither land nor estates.'

Odin: 'I give him this, that he shall vast sums of money.'

Thor: 'I lay this curse on him, that he shall never be satisfied with what he has.'

Odin: 'I give him victory and fame in every battle.'

Thor: 'I lay this curse on him, that in every battle he shall be sorely wounded.'

Odin: 'I give him the art of poetry, so that he shall compose verses as fast as he can speak.'

Thor: 'He shall never remember afterwards what he composes.'

Odin: 'I ordain that he shall be most highly thought of by all the noblest people and the best.'

Thor: 'The common people shall hate him every one.'

Then the judges decreed that all that had been said should happen to Starkad. The assembly broke up, and Grani Horse-hair and Starkad went back to their boat.

'You should repay me well, my foster-son,' said Grani Horse-hair to Starkad, 'for all the help I've given you.

'That I will,' said Starkad.

'Then you're to send King Vikar to me,' said Grani Horse-hair. 'I'll tell you how to go about it.'

Starkad agreed, and Grani Horse-hair gave him a spear which he said would seem to be only a reed stalk. Then they joined the rest of the army, just a little before daybreak."

In this marvelous episode from the saga, we see Starkad being GIVEN a fate that is both positive and negative in nature.  This is exactly the kind of function indicated by the double-meanin of runic alu.  To quote from Dr. Mees:

“The range of uses to which alu is put in early runic magico-religious practice suggests that the Etruscoid u-verb (or verbal noun) alu came to be employed in the Germanic North as a substitute for *hail- in the technical sense ‘written dedication that brings luck (good or bad, depending on the context)’ on items such as the Old Germanic bracteates.”

Now, we still have to dispose of a number of objections to the notion that Aludreng may preserve an obsolete form of runic alu.  As I mentioned above, alu ought to have been spelled with an umlauted o.  Also, most prefer to see Aludreng as merely an error for Aladreng, or 'Ali's retainer/attedant', especially given as Starkad does serve (among other kings) Ali the Bold of Sweden.  Starkad murders Ali, and this is considered one of the evil deeds Thor gave to him.

Aludeng is linked by the saga writers with an Alufossar, thought to be Ulefoss in Telemark, Norway.  I've discussed this with Norwegian place-name expert Professor Tom Schmidt, who related that Ulefoss was earlier Olu-, from Volu-, itself even earlier Vala, a river-name.  A. LeRoy Andrews also mentions an Old Norse ala (accent over the initial a), which apparently lies behind Norwegina ala (small circle over the a), a "deep narrow channel in a sea or river".  I do not find ala in the Old Norse, but rather (see the Zoega and Cleasby-Vigfusson dictionaries) 'all' as having this meaning.  We know of a Hraundrengr or 'dreng of the lava-field' used for a giant in Old Icelandic literature, so a 'dreng of a deep narrow channel’ is not without precedent.

Still, if we can surmount these problems, it is highly tempting to see in Starkad Aludreng a warrior who was, literally, the 'Gifted/Cursed Warrior', i.e. a giant-descended man who was GIVEN his mixed allotment of fate directly by the gods themselves - not, as one might expect, by the Norns.  And he returned the favor in kind by "giving" King Vikar to Odin.  Vikar was thus an alu, a 'dedication'.  Starkad had himself been 'dedicated' to the gods by his being made to fulfill the special destiny they had appointed for him.

NOTE ON THE THREE “CRIMES” AND SACRED DEATH OF STARKAD ALUDRENG

I’ve briefly discussed above in the context of the magical word alu the three lifespans given to Starkad by Odin and the countering “crimes” with which Thor curses him.  Here I wish to clarify the actual nature of those crimes and relate them to Starkad’s strange suicide by proxy.

The author of Gautrek’s Saga made use of Thor as the oppositional force to Odin.  Students of Norse mythology know that Odin is often represented in the literature as the deity of kings and nobility, while Thor is favored by the common people.  This polarity allowed for a shift in the causal relationship between the three lifespans and the three crimes.

Starkad’s first and third crimes are well known: they involve the murder of two kings, Vikar and Ali, both of whom he served.  The third crime is not overtly stated in any source, but E.O.G. Turville Petre in his invaluable MYTH AND RELIGION OF THE NORTH supports J. de Vries’s theory that it was Starkad’s inciting of Ingjald to the murder of Sverting’s sons.  This event is mentioned in BEOWULF, where the character playing the role of Starkad is referred to as an eald aescwiga or “old warrior”.  Well known is Starkad’s epithet ‘inn gamli’, “the Old”.

While we might not think – especially in an Iron Age Germanic society – that revenge for the killing of one’s father could be considered in any sense a crime, Sverting’s sons were murdered when they were enjoying the hospitality of Ingjald and this alone would have been considered a grievous breach of tradition.

The real reason for these three “crimes” is wholly different that that presented in Gautrek’s Saga.  To understand what really lies behind them, we have to go to Snorri Sturluson’s Ynglinga Saga (Chapter 29):

“… and King On returned to Uppsala when he was sixty years of age.  He made a great sacrifice, and in it offered up his son to Odin. On got an answer from Odin, that he should live sixty years longer; and he was afterwards king in Uppsala for twenty-five years… After Ali’s fall [slain by Starkad the Old, the third of his “crimes”], On returned to Uppsala, and ruled the kingdom for twenty-five years.  Then hemade a great sacrifice again for long life, in which he sarcrificed his second son, and received the answer from Odin, that he should live as long as he gave him one o fhis sons every tenth year… When he had sacrificed the seventh of his sons he continued to live; but so that he could not walk, but was carried on a chair.  Then he sacrificed his eighth son, and lived thereafter ten years, lying in his bed.  Now he sacrificed his ninth son, and lived ten years more; but so that he drank out of a horn like a weaned infant.  He had now only one son remaining, whom he also wanted to sacrifice, and to give Odin Uppsala… but the Swedes would not allow it; so there was no sacrifice, and King On died, and was buried in a mound at Uppsala.”

Thus it would appear that Thor is merely being “blamed” for meting out to Starkad the fate of committing three crimes.  In reality, Starkad must pay for his three lifespans somehow, and the account of King On shows pretty plainly that such payment was tendered in the form of human sacrifices offered to Odin. As is the case with King Vikar, whom Starkad kills by hanging to Odin, the sacrifice victims themselves REPRESENT Odin, the god who sacrificed himself to himself.

It is in this sense that we must understand Starkad’s self-sacrificial death.  According to Saxo Grammaticus, the hero was driven to perform this last deed of his life out of guilt and remorse for his murder of Ali.  But there is not too much about Starkad that leaves room for such sentiments, and this is doubtless a motivation invented by Saxo as a way of redeeming his hero at the end.

The Skjoldunga Saga version has Starkad bribed to kill Ali by his half-brother Frodi.  Saxo, on the other hands, mentions twelve chieftains (note the solar number 12 here) who were responsible.  One of them was named Lenni, a name not found outside of Saxo.  We are told Starkad killed Lenni out of repentance for the murder of Ali.  When he is truly old and ready to die, Starkad just happens to encounter Hather, son of Lenni, and allows this man to kill him and to take from him the gold he was paid for murdering Ali.

Two things are interesting about this story.  First, Hather has been shown by Dumezil and others to be a form of the name Hodr, the blind god of Norse myth who slays Balder with the mistletoe.  Lenni may well be Saxo’s Latin form of Norse Hlin, a goddess who most believe to be none other than Frigg, mother of Balder.  Starkad’s name, of course, has by some been etymologized as ‘the strong Hod’ (meaning ‘the strong Warrior’).

What we have in Starkad’s death, then, is Starkad, a human incarnation of Hod, being killed by Hather, another human incarnation of Hod, here the son of Frigg in her aspect of Lenni/Hlin (“Protector”).  I’ve discussed in another chapter the true identity of Hod the Blind, i.e. Odin, and his role in the slaying of Balder.

We can say in conclusion that Odin is killing Odin once again and that it was in this way that Starkad, even in death, honored his god.

LORDS OF OPPOSITION AND COMPLETION: THE GIANTS AS THE NEGATIVE ASPECT OF THE DIVINE

It has often been remarked by students of Norse mythology that the distinction between gods and giants is often vague, even in some cases nonexistent.  This observation has led to a great deal of confusion when it comes to trying to define the role and significance of giants in Viking belief.

To begin, we know that the first of the gods – including Odin himself - descend from giants. Loki, the nemesis of the gods, is believed to be the son of a giantess.  Frey takes as his bride the giant maiden Gerd.  I’ve shown in other chapters that sometimes a giant can pose as the seasonal counterpart of a god, one being the ruler of the winter half-year and the other of the summer half-year.  There are plenty of other examples of the fluidity one encounters when attempting to compare and contrast gods and giants.

Obviously, the popular view that giants are, by their very nature, merely the enemies of Order and all that is good for Nature and Man is an untenable one.

What, then, exactly ARE giants, and why are they as a race set apart from the Aesir and Vanir?

The best example I can think of to illustrate the function and true identity of a giant is the story of the duel between Thor and Hrungnir in Snorri Sturluson’s Prose Edda (Skaldskaparmal 4).  I’ve treated of this myth in my essay on the valknut.  There it was shown that Hrungnir was a hypostasis of Thor, an “evil twin”, if you will, whose battle with the god was emblematic of the thunderstorm.  So in this sense when we are told Thor is off fighting giants, in a very peculiar way he is off fighting himself.

Another case in point would be Thor’s fishing trip with the giant Hymir (Gylfaginning 48).  In this myth, Thor has caught the Midgard Serpent (= the Sea) and is ready to slay the monster with his lightning hammer when his companion Hymir the Giant cuts the line.  The Serpent promptly sinks back into the sea.  Enraged at being cheated of his victory, Thor knocks the giant overboard.

The story is fairly transparent, in that the thundergod has raised the sea in agitation during a storm.  The sea is calmed only when the storm ceases, and this is brought about by Hymir’s cutting of the line.  In this way the giant is at fault for allowing the Serpent to continue living.  This will have dire consequences, as it is prophesied that the Serpent will come up onto the land at Ragnarok and be the death of the thundergod.   Thor is, pun strictly intended, “let off the hook”.

While pagans regularly accepted the fact that the very same god who dispensed blessings on Man could turn around and, for whatever reason, suddenly become horribly destructive or at the very least unhelpful, there was still early on the tendency to split off the negative aspect and to personify that as another entity entirely.  In this way the blame for an undesirable act on the part of the god could be shifted to his adversarial double.  The god not only remained guiltless, he could be presented in a highly favorable light as a protective or savior deity.

In short, the giants are the “fall guys” of Norse myth.

Was this division of the god into good and bad halves a conscious creation on the part of the priest-poets?  Well, I can only assume they understood their own myths, and if so, they certainly knew that giants could be gods and gods could be giants.

LOKI, MISCHIEF-MAKING COMPANION OF ODIN AND THOR

Loki is not only blood-brother to Odin, but a constant companion of both Odin and Thor/Jupiter in the Norse myths.  Although his nickname Lopt means “the air, atmosphere, the sky, heaven” (Cleasby-Vigfusson Icelandic Dictionary), viewing him as a mere hypostasis of a triune Sky-Father/Storm-God has not received much support.

It is vital, then, that we get a better grip on his primary name.  I would link Loki to Gothic *luks, ‘an opening’.  In the various Germanic languages, this root yields meanings such as ‘enclosure, enclosed place, fastening of a door, prison, lock, secret abode, cave, opening, hole, gap”, etc.

For a comparison of the significance of such an etymology, we need to look at Caelus, the Latin form of Ouranos.  Caelus is derived from caelum or coelum, to which we may compare Greek koilus, ‘hollow, cavity’.  Coelum seems to be related to cavilum, whose root is cavus, ‘hollow, concave’, or as a noun, ‘a hollow, cavity, hole’.

The idea is this: the sky or heaven, which is a vault, is also A CONCAVITY, a HOLLOW dome.

The Greek Ouranus/Latin Caelus has among his offspring Oceanus.  The Midgard Serpent, sired by Loki, like lots of other sea-serpents going way back (cf. Ugaritic Lotan, Biblical Leviathan), is emblematic of the sea that encircles the earth.  Loki can also be compared with the Greek storm-giant Typhaon, who sired the dog Orthus, Cerberus the three-headed dog at the entrance to Hades, the Lernaean Hydra, Chimaera, and the Sphinx: Loki sires Fenrir, the Norse equivalent of the lunar dog Cerberus. Typhaon, sometimes called (or conflated with) Typhoeos, was said to cause earthquakes under Mount Aitna, and fiery lava flows from the same volcano when he turned restlessly: Loki is bound in the underworld and his writhing causes earthquakes.

As for Loki’s fathering of Hel, the underworld goddess, we may compare Zeus the Sky-Father’s begetting of Persephone or Kronos’s begetting of Hades.  Kronos was the Sky-Father after Ouranos, whom he castrasted and deposed, just as Zeus was the Sky-Father after the defeat of Kronos.

While an exhaustive treatment of Loki’s myths would be even more revealing, for now I will content myself with the above outline of his nature as sky and storm god – a nature not unlike that of his companions, Odin and Thor.

WHO WAS FRIGG?: THE INTERPRETATIO ROMANO OF VENUS AND THE REAL IDENTITY OF ODIN’S WIFE

The Norse goddess Frigg, wife of the sky-father Odin, is routinely equated with the Roman Venus.  The reason for this identification has to do with the very meaning of her name, and the fairly early rendering of the Roman dies Veneris, ‘day of Venus’, i.e. Friday, as OHG friatac, OE frigedeag, ‘Friday’.

The etymology of this goddess name is treated of fully in Vladimir Orel’s  A HANDBOOK OF GERMANIC ETYMOLOGY:

Proto-Germanic *frijjo, substantivized feminine of *frijaz; ON theon. Frigg OHG theon. Frija. Identical with Skt. Fem. Priya, ‘own, dear, beloved’.

Frigg is often confused with Freyja, but in reality the latter is derived from a totally different word, one which also contains the root found in the name of Freyja’s male counterpart, Freyr:

ON Freyja, ‘lady’, OS frua, ‘lady, mistress’, derived from *fraw(j)on; Goth frauja, ‘lord, master’, ON Freyr, OE frea, ‘lord, master’.

The important thing to remember with the interpretatio romano is that such an identification of a foreign deity with a Roman one was most often based on a perceived FUNCTION of the two deities under consideration, and is generally not a safe guide for determining the actual nature of the foreign god or goddess.  Hence we find Odin equated with Mercury because the former, like the latter, can operate as a pyschopomp, but also as Mars, because Odin has a pronounced martial side to his character.  These instances of interpretatio romano do not indicate that Odin IS Mercury or Mars.

The same is true of Frigg as Venus.  While her being the ‘Beloved or Dear One’ of Odin may suggest Venus-like attributes, such are not, in fact, found in the few mythic episodes that happen to mention her.  The relationship between Odin and Frigg is instead a contentious one and reads very much like that which existed between Zeus the Sky-Father and his consort Hera.  The only “evidence” for a Venus-like quality occurs when she is said to have slept with Odin’s brothers Vili and Ve.  But these brothers, as has long been known, are merely part of another triadic form of the sky god and so by sleeping with them Frigg is sleeping with a couple of different aspects of her proper husband, Odin.  The notion that she was in any sense wanton, then, is erroneous and either another trick played on us by the pagan priest-poets or an attempt by Christian scribes to besmirch the mother goddess’s reputation.

The mistletoe story includes a wonderful little “wink” for those “in the know”:  as this plant is SYMBOLIC of the lightning-weapon, it is immune to the pledge exacted by Frigg from everything not found in or originating from the sky.  That it IS Frigg who exacts the world-wide pledge certainly points rather strongly to her being the goddess of the earth.  For who else would have this kind of authority and power over everything that exists UNDER the heavens?

We know that in the Greek system the sky god Uranus (Ouranus) was paired with Gaia, ‘Earth’.  When Uranus was overthrown by Cronos, the goddess changed also – into Rhea, herself closely associated with the Phrygian Great Mother Cybele.  Scholars in general tend to view Cybele as an earth goddess.  Hera, who supplanted Rhea when Zeus came to power, has not been universally regarded as an earth goddess, but it is difficult to imagine why she would be anything else, given her predecessors and her marriage to yet another sky father.

In Norse religion, Zeus’s etymological counterpart – Tyr (*Tiwaz, OHG Ziu) – did not attain or retain a position of prominence.  His consort is not mentioned.  He seems to have been replaced at some point by Odin.  The loss of his solar hand to the lunar wolf Fenrir has been shown to have parallels “in many cultures as a punishment for perjury” (see Rudolf Simek’s DICTIONARY OF NORTHERN MYTHOLOGY).  Interestingly enough, in the Irish mythology we know it was the loss of the god Nuadha’s arm which disqualified him from the kingship.  Could it be that in part the story of the loss of Tyr’s hand was used as an explanation for the substitution of Odin as the chief sky father?  I suppose a case could be made for this, but we do have to remember that Odin himself gave up his sun-eye and so, in essence, is as disfigured in his own way as Tyr is maimed.

Thor’s mother Jord is, of course, quite literally ‘Earth’.  As Thor is the Viking equivalent of the Roman Jupiter and Jupiter is derived in part from the same root as both Zeus and Tyr, we have very clear evidence for the existence of the earth goddess in Norse myth.  An alternate name for Thor’s mother – Fjorgyn – has been the subject of serious debate.  Why?  Because a male form of this name also exists in the sources, a certain Fjorgynn, said to be the father of none other than Frigg herself!  Further confusion arises when attempts are made to connect Fjorgynn with the Lithuanian thunder god Perkunas and with the Gothic fairguni, something that has been done since Jacob Grimm’s time (see his TEUTONIC MYTHOLOGY).

Gregory Nagy (see GREEK MYTHOLOGY AND POETICS, 1992) discussed in some detail the possible relationship between Fjorgynn, Perkunas and fairguni.  In brief, the development was both simple and complicated.  The original root of these words meant ‘[to] strike’, and this idea, linked to the lightning bolt, became attached to that which was struck, i.e. the oak tree.  A further development of the concept led to the final formation, meaning ‘[oak-] wooded mountain’.  As Nagy explains, the thunderstorm is frequently present atop mountains – indeed, it forms there – and if these mountains happen to bear oak trees, then they naturally would have come to be recognized as especially sacred to the thunder god.

Is there any way we can untangle this mess? I do not think it’s that difficult.  The thunderstorm is “born” in the mountains.  As such, the Fjorgyn who is Thor’s mother is not so much the Earth proper as she is the oak-mountain or, perhaps by extension, the wooded mountains of the Earth.  We can understand the relationship best this way: the goddess is the mountain, the oak on the mountain = the sky-father and between the two of them is the thunderstorm.

Frigg as the daughter of Fjorgynn the thunder/sky deity points to the Greek parallel again, where Rhea the Earth Mother is the daughter of Uranus and Gaia/Earth, and Zeus’s Hera is the daughter of Cronos and Rhea.

VOLUND THE SMITH, PRINCE OF ELVES: THE FORGING OF LIFE AND DEATH

For those unfamiliar with the Old Norse myth of Volund the Smith (OHG Wielant, AS Weland or Welond, Velent in the Thidrekssaga, modern English Wayland, as in ‘Wayland’s Smithy’, the Neolithic chambered long barrow in Oxfordshire), a brief, point-by-point summary is in order before any kind of interpretation can be offered.  The following is drawn from the poem Volundarkvida of the Elder or Poetic Edda.  The longer Thidrekssaga prose account is not taken into consideration here, as details added by this later source appear to be mere literary invention and do not serve to elucidate the mythic substrate of the poem.

We begin with Volund, called a son of a Finnish king, a line of descent which points to a possible affinity with the Finnish smith-god Ilmarinen.  He takes a swan-maiden (i.e. a valkyrie) named Hervor Alvitr to wife, presumably (if later folklore is any guide) by stealing her swan-cloak.  Hervor and her two sisters are spinning on a lake-shore, which points to their also being the Norns.  One of Hervor’s sisters actually bears the epithet ‘Swan-white’, and this will be important when we consider Hervor's divine nature below.

After seven years, Hervor flies off to war, leaving Volund alone.  Once again, she had probably found her hidden swan-cloak and used that to make her escape.  He spends his time making gold rings and placing them on a rope.  A king called Nidud learns Volund is living by himself and sends his men.  They take one of the gold rings and we learn later that the king gives this ring to his daughter, Bothvild.  Volund was off hunting.  He kills and consumes a bear, but before falling asleep on its hide notices one gold ring is missing.  He believes Hervor has returned to him.

Nidud’s men pounce upon him while he is asleep, and at the suggestion of Nidud’s wife Volund is lamed and left on an island (this last bears a strong resemblance to Zeus’s tossing of Hephaestus, the Greek divine smith, onto the island of Lemnos, where the fall cripples him).  There he is forced to work a forge for the king.

But it is not long before he begins to work his revenge, and to plot his escape.  First, he entices Nidud’s sons to his forge and murders them.  He places their feet under the slack tub (the water tank used for cooling hot iron), makes silver-coated drinking cups out of their skulls as a gift for Nidud, gems out of their eyes for Nidud’s wife and brooches out of their teeth for Bothvild.

Bothvild then comes to him with the ring that had been meant for Hervor.  She has somehow broken it and it requires mending by the smith.  He reclaims the ring, plies her with beer and seduces her.  Then he mentions his webbed feet – a reference to the fact that he has transformed into some kind of bird (Carolyn Larrington, in her translation of the Poetic Edda, theorizes this is a swan-shape, perhaps making use a swan-cloak, although see below for a better explanation) – and he flies off, leaving the king and queen bereft of his services, their sons and with a pregnant daughter.

What are we to make of this story?  Well, it has all the hallmarks of a fairly typical seasonal sun myth, and we can work through its meaning step by step thusly:

The swan-maiden/valkyrie/Norn Hervor Alvitr is a moon goddess.  Some have wanted to make a case for her being a solar deity, or even an aspect of Venus.  Others are opted for an earth goddess or Sovereignty goddess or some combination of the two.  However, the swan-shape, and the white color, and the ability to fly through the air, are characteristics that are only to be found in a lunar goddess.  The sun is not white.  It is gold, and this is the color and metal always associated with the sun in the mythology.  This is so despite the Eddaic tradition which insists the sun, Sol, is female, and the moon, Mani, is male.

As is true of any pagan religious system that was practiced over a wide area for many centuries, the Germanic or Norse pantheon was not a fixed or standardized one.  Many apparently conflicting – or complementary – beliefs were subscribed to by these peoples.  We need only think of any number of other early religions – the Egyptian, for example – where male and female sun and moon gods were worshipped side by side with no apparent difficulty.  Furthermore, the Norse mythology is replete with symbols that are essentially kennings – employing different poetic descriptions for identical or similar objects and concepts. Lastly, gods like Odin are famous for being shape-shifters AND sex-changers.  As a sky god, Odin’s eyes were the sun and moon.  Thus, he could manifest himself at will as either heavenly body.  If we restrict ourselves to the sun being female and the moon being male, we will not be able to understand the subtleties of Norse myth.

The killing and consuming of the bear, as well as Volund’s falling asleep atop its pelt, is symbolic for the death of Volund himself as the god of half of the solar year.  This death corresponds with Nidud’s taking of the gold ring, itself an emblem of the sun.  In other words, Volund dies at the end of his half-year reign as solar deity.  This death corresponds with his losing the moon goddess Hervor as well as the gold sun ring.  Nidud now takes over as the living sun god of the second half-year.

Volund is lame for the duration of his incarceration on the island because he is the dead sun god.  His being forced to work at the forge and produce weapons and treasure for Nidud will be discussed fully below, when the nature of dwarves is examined.

The sons of Nidud are surrogates for the father.  Thus killing the sons represents the slaying of Volund’s solar twin, Nidud himself.  The slack tub is spattered with their blood, almost as if it were an altar receiving an offering.  The feet of the boys are perhaps the most profound statement of Volund’s revenge, for they point directly to his own useless feet, made unusable by Nidud’s having severed the sinews in the hollows of his knees.  But this act also reads like a foundation sacrifice.  The skulls of the boys are coated in silver, the metal sacred to the moon.

At the same time, Volund gets the sun-ring back from the goddess, and embraces her in the sexual act.  All of this means that he has been reborn for his half of the solar year.  His transformation into avian form as the resurrected sun god is echoed in Odin’s transformation into the sun-eagle when flying back to Asgard with the mead of poetry (see the chapter on this subject), or Loki’s flying back to the same place with the sun-apples of immortality dressed in the falcon-cloak loaned to him by Freyja (owner of the famous solar necklace, the Brisingamen, which I’ve also written about in another essay).

So if Volund was indeed a sun god, why is he called (twice) visi alfa, ‘master of elves’ and (once) alfa liodi, ‘prince of elves’?

Part of the answer is easy:  a poetic term for the sun was Alfrodull, “Elf-halo or Elf-glory” (see the Cleasby-Vigfusson Icelandic Dictionary).  But things get more complicated when we compare Volund, the dead sun god bound to an earth-island, slaving away at his forge, and the dwarves, occupying themselves in similar fashion under the ground or inside rocks.

Much has been made by students of Norse religion and myth of the fact that some of the dwarves AND elves bear names relating to death.  One of them – Dain – is listed as both a dward AND an elf, and his name means ‘Dead One’.  It has been claimed that further confusion was introduced by Snorri Sturluson in his Prose Edda, as he indicates dwarves lived in the Home of the Black Elves, the Svartalfar, whom he also calls Dark Elves or Dokkalfar.  He then goes on to mention Light Elves or Ljosalfar as well, and places these last in heavenly halls, as opposed to the Black Elves/Dark Elves/Dwarves, who are always underworld residents.

Most scholars believe that Snorri’s placement of Light Elves in heaven and the dwarves or dark/black elves in the earth betrays Christian influence.  In other words, either the originally pagan designations for such beings were likened to the saved and the damned (or to angels and demons), or the division itself was, in fact, a Christian dualistic development.  However, the problem with these notions is that Snorri does not impart an overt ETHICAL DISTINCTION between the Light Elves and the Dark Elves.  He says

“They [the dark elves] are different from the light elves in appearance, and far more so in nature.  The light elves are more beautiful than the sun, while the dark elves are blacker than pitch.”

The “more so in nature” could imply a moral dimension, with light elves being “good” and dark elves being “evil”, but Snorri’s statement remains ambiguous.  We would, of course, expect the natures of creatures living in the earth to be vastly different from those living in heaven.

I have in other essays explored the nature of the Norse dragon and, briefly, that of the Norse draug or “revenant”.  In both cases, there is a strong suggestion in the sources that these monsters, dwelling in the earth-barrow, were in some way identified with the moon.  They had been men who, upon death, took on a monstrous shape and guarded the treasures that had been buried with them.  In other stories the dead are in some sense “alive” within their barrows (see the stories of Helgi Hundingsbane and Sigrun and Angantyr and Hervor; in this last, the heroine must procure a sword from her dead father).

There is a strange correspondence between stories of heroes breaking into barrows to combat draugs or dragons and stealing their treasure or weapons and heroes struggling with or threatening dwarves with death in order to procure the same items.  And, indeed, in such stories the dwarves and the draugs or dragons are interchangeable.  This tells me in no uncertain terms that the reason dwarves were thought of as producers of treasure and magical (or cursed) weapons is because they were originally dead men within their barrows - dead men who had been buried with their earthly treasures and weapons.

But if this is so, why were they identified with the moon monster?  This seems to hearken back to the point I raised above about the moon, Mani, being male.  And what about the Light Elves who live in heaven?

The Light Elves are easy enough to dispense with: they are spirits of the dead who have been identified with the sun god in his resurrected form.  The same sun god who, like Volund, took on bird form and flew up into the sky, free from his death-prison.

But the lunar nature of the dead man/dwarf/dark-black elf/dragon/draug in the barrow mound is puzzling.  It does not seem to fit into the picture.  This means either that I’m wrong with the interpretation just offered for the Volund myth, or that I’m missing something.

The clue to solving this troublesome riddle may lie in the fact that the sons of Nidud, who represented the king himself, the solar twin of Volund, had their skulls plated in the silver of the moon.  And that when Odin descended into the earth-mountain Hnitbjorg (see again the essay on the mead of poetry), he had to transform into the lunar serpent to do so.

While one solar twin was alive and ruling for his half-year, where did the dead twin reside?  The obvious answer would be within the earth – the earth that was symbolized by the barrow mound.  But there may be more to it than this.

Loki (a hypostasis of Odin; see my chapter on Loki as a sky god) is bound in the underworld upon THREE LUNAR STONES.  These three lunar stones have their counterpart in the three vats of the mead myth.  We are told, of course, that Loki will not escape his bonds until Ragnarok – but this is not exactly true.  It is a poetic exaggeration.  We could be talking about a solar eclipse in the case of Loki were it not for the mead story, wherein the mead is itself a symbol for the sun’s light drunk out of and spat back into the moon.

The mead of poetry divinely inspired poets and scholars, according to Snorri Sturluson.  It was made originally from the blood, i.e. sunlight, of the sun god Kvasir, poured into the three lunar vats.  My reading of this, then, is that the mead was the spirit of the seasonally slain sun god.  Those partaking of the mead were not only infused with this divine spirit, but as with Christians who partook of the wine/blood of the sun god Christ, the drinker became “one” with the deity and would thus, when he died, be resurrected in the same fashion. Hence the Voluspa poem's insistence that the lunar dragon Nidhogg carries dead men on its wings across the night sky.  These 'dead men' are the spirits who were identified with the slain sun god and they are, in essence, the 'light' of the moon.

I would see the lunar monster, then, as a strange fusion of the goddess – whether we call her Hervor Alvitr, Bothvild, Idunn or Freyja, it matters little -  and the spirit of the dead sun god.  One thinks of Bothvild being made pregnant by Volund and cannot help but wonder if the child she carried was not, in fact, the spirit of Volund’s dead solar twin, Nidud.  She had, after all, been made drunk with beer just prior to her rape.

As this myth of the competing solar twins is a seasonal one, it readily took upon itself the motif of the Everlasting Battle.  I have discussed this motif in my essay on the Brisingamen necklace.

‘AND YOU’LL BE FAIRIES ALL’: A VERY BRIEF TREATMENT OF THE NATURE OF FAIRIES AND THEIR ORIGINS

I’ve been noticing lately that a great many of my friends appear to have a strong affinity for things fairy.  They claim to have access of one kind or another to fairy realms, an intimate relationship with fairies or even to be spiritually akin to these residents of the Otherworld.  A few boldly proclaim a genetic link with fairies (or elves or pixies, etc.), while others enjoy assuming the imagined garb and both anatomical and personality traits of these most elusive of creatures.  Still others have concocted a ‘fairy faith’, which presumes to know the underlying culture of the fairy race, up to and including their remarkably liberal sexual practices.  Mass celebrations of the ‘fairy phenomenon’ such as the annual Faerieworlds in Eugene, Oregon, and a series of popular books and novels for adults and young adults are a testament to the ever-increasing popularity of the subject.

While I’m encouraged by this upsurge in interest in the ‘wee folk’, I’m also disturbed by some of the current trends.  Why?  I mean, what could be more harmless and enjoyable than to subscribe to any of the modern notions regarding fairies?  They are a peaceable lot, and engender an appreciation of and respect for Nature.  So what’s to complain about?

As always, my concern as a Reconstructionist (for such I have been accused of being!) is for the evident loss of original meaning and significance.  The fairies we are being presented with today are the end product of several generations of obfuscation and mythologizing.  The elves and other ‘little peoples’ of the pagan world were early on subjected to the usual Christian influences.  If the Church could not extirpate a folk belief or custom, it sought to bring such under its aegis by transmuting the said belief or custom in such a way as to make it at least marginally acceptable to Church doctrine.  Thus we end up with quaint but wildly inaccurate origin stories, e.g. the fairies are Eve’s unwashed children.

To these early Christian alterations – which were not static, but continued to evolve over the centuries – we must add the romantic fancies conjured during the Victorian period.  In many ways, the Victorians provided the fairy mythology with its Golden Age.  Paintings, highly literary fairy tales, collections of folk tales, etc., all contributed to a new vision of the fairy folk and their realm.  In 1917 the now famous Cottingley Fairies photographs were made public.  Jones and Froud’s Lady Cottington’s Pressed Fairy Book can be traced in its conception to the Cottingly Fairies and their Victorian predecessors.  Creations such as J.M. Barrie’s Tinkerbell (1904) became the models for what we now think of, for better or worse, as fairies. These are really more generic nature spirits than fairies proper and so are usually associated with the more beautiful and benevolent aspects of Nature, such as flowers, butterflies, sunlight, moonbeams, stars, snowflakes, rainbows and the like.

Some older books contain material that reflects genuine oral folk traditions concerning fairies.  The scholar and writer Ari Burke has recently reminded me of Lady Gregory’s Visions and Tales of the West of Ireland. Also worth reading are the works of Thomas Keightley, Robert Kirk, Katherine Mary Briggs, Sir John Rhys and Walter Evans-Wentz.  More recent academic studies of folktales offer unexpurgated versions when possible, as opposed to the earlier accounts that were altered for the sake of ‘art’ and the sensibilities of the time, and categorize the motifs according to the index of Stith-Thompson types.  What emerges from a study of these sources is the marked AMBIVALENCE our ancestors evinced towards the fairies and their realm.  I had been thinking of exactly this word when scholar and author Ari Berk independently used it in the course of private correspondence. Such ambivalence is understandable once we come to grips with the fact that the Land of Fairy is not only a Happy Otherworld, but the Place of Death as well.

Death is a frightening thing to most of us, no matter how much we may be philosophically resigned to it.  There is a large measure of latent fear in many, if not most, of the stories involving fairies.  In fact, perhaps the primary purpose of a fairy tale is to take the mystery and dread out of death by applying a soothing symbolism.  What is otherwise our primal fear becomes a magical and wondrous entertainment.  Yet always beneath the fairy glamor is the grave and the worm. We all know that when fairies dance they leave rings of mushrooms in their wake, but few of us care to dwell on the fact that mushrooms are primarily chthonic organisms that feed off dead or decaying matter.

In folktales, often the death of a loved one is masked over by euphemistically presenting it as an "abduction" by fairies, i.e. a loved one is secretly carried away to the fairy hill.  The otherwise inexplicable death of cattle would be blamed on "elf-shot", and numerous other calamities that might befall a rural community were often laid at the feet of the residents of the Sidhe.  Babies born "not right", i.e. deformed or mentally deficient, were believed not to be the issue of human parents, but were instead thought to be changelings substituted by the fairy folk for the originally normal infants.  Such changelings would often perish prematurely, reaffirming the link that existed between them and the world of the dead.

Any careful scrutiny of legitimate fairy lore inevitably shows a certain identification of the barrow mound, the place of communal entombment. Readers may object to this declaration, but it is, nevetheless, true.  In our day and age, we no longer deify our dead, whether they be noble or commoner.  But in ancient times, ancestral spirits were powerful Otherworld entities that could work good or ill.  The Romans regularly set up dedication stones to the Dis Manibus, the “Divine Spirits of the Departed”.  Several such stones have been found in Britain.  Festivals were held at various times of the year to honor and propitiate these divine ancestors.

Once we “read between the lines” of early fairy mythology, we thus have two primary components for a true origin of fairies: the ancestral spirits within the communal barrow mound, and the gods within the same mounds.  Can we more clearly define the precise relationship between these two very different and perhaps confused or conflated groups of beings?

I believe so.  It all comes down to an apparent IDENTIFICATION of the ancestral dead with the deity.  If a man by virtue of his undergoing a sacrificial death literally BECOMES the god, what happens to the dead within the fairy hill?  The answer may lie in an examination of stories that tell of the visit of the living to the Otherworld, and of a comparison of the salient points of such stories with burial practices and rituals enacted during propitiation of the dead.

In the classic account of a visit to the Fairy Hill, a man enters the hill to find himself surrounded by feasting, drinking, dancing and general merriment.  There is almost always an injunction against partaking of fairy hospitality of any kind, as this would condemn the visitor to an eternity within the Otherworld.  We learn that “Fairy Time” runs contrary to mortal time, in that only a short period spent within the Fairy Hill corresponds to the passage of many years in the human world.

Firstly, we know from archaeology that grave goods, especially for the noble dead, included all kinds of food and drink.  These grave offerings were meant to ‘translate’ into similar items in the Otherworld, where the spirits of the dead would feast upon them.  They were thus intended for the dead, NOT for the living.  If a living man were to partake of them, that means, quite simply, that he himself has died and joined the ranks of the ancestral spirits.  Hence the injunction against eating or drinking while in the land of fairy.

We have accounts of Celtic and Norse gods feasting and drinking in their Otherworld halls and such halls are often associated with burial mounds.  But there may be another kind of feast held at Fairy Hills – that of the living, held during important festivals to honor the dead.  We might imagine a midwinter procession of a community arriving at a passage grave whose opening was aligned to one of the solstices.  The community would enter the passage with the sun’s light.  Libations would be poured into stone basins (like those actually found in the Irish Newgrange) and food offerings left for the spirits and/or the gods.  As midwinter was also the time of rebirth of the sun, it is not inconceivable that the ancestral spirits occupying the same Otherworld hill were thought to be reborn as well.  A sharing of rebirth with the sun god may have contributed to a belief that the dead literally became “One” with the god.  This is not as far-fetched a notion as it may seem; today, Christians believe that by partaking of the blood and body of Christ, a meal replicating Jesus’s own consumption of bread and wine at the Last Supper, implies that they will resurrected as he was and hence enjoy eternal life.  I have elsewhere put forward the idea that the body of Christ symbolizes the sun, while his blood represents the sun’s light.  It was this light that filtered down the barrow mound passage at midwinter, striking the interior of the Fairy Hill where the ancestral dead resided.  When the light moved past the midwinter point and no longer entered the heart of the hill, the sun had been reborn.  Might it not have taken with it the spirits of the ancestral dead?

The seasonal corollary would have occurred at midsummer, when the strength of the sun reached its maximum power and then began to wane.  This point in the calendar would mark a sort of death of the sun, and some passage graves or stone circles mark this solstice as well.  We might compare this to the placement of a dead person within the barrow, where the deified spirit would await its rebirth and joining with the sun (?) at midwinter.  This simplified picture would be made more complex if we accept what appears to be a two-fold division of the sacred year between two aspects of the sun god – one whom rules from midwinter to midsummer and another who rules from midsummer to midwinter.  Such a two-fold division is made manifest in many myths.  There may thus have been two major seasonal deaths and rebirths.

In the later Norse system, as in the Celtic, the division of the year was later made at the beginning of Summer and the beginning of Winter, rather than at the solstices.  I’ve discussed this seasonal/calendar change in detail in my appendix on the ogham alphabet in my book “The Mysteries of Avalon: A Primer in Arthurian Druidism.”

Time does not exist for the dead.  The dead don’t age.  They are eternal in the same sense as the gods are eternal.  Hence, time does not exist in the fairy mound.  But it continues to tick by in the mortal world, as anyone returning to it will discover.

[Sleep also can be a metaphor for death; thus we find Arthur and his men asleep in various hills.  Silence, too, is a hallmark of the dead, as the dead don’t speak.  We find silent dead men in the Tower of Glass in Nennius and in the “castle” of the Maimed Fisher King, where Perceval remains otherwise unaccountably tongue-tied during the Grail Procession.]

While the above is speculative, and can be more fully illustrated with a great many examples, I hope this abbreviated discussion will aid those seeking a proper understanding of the nature and origin of fairies.  I always feel that we owe it to our ancestors, whether we choose to deify them or not, to attempt to obtain as clear a vision as possible of how they themselves perceived the world – and the world that comes after.  Otherwise, we are doing them a disservice.  We are intentionally CHOOSING to forget the knowledge and wisdom they developed over millennia and applied to their daily lives.  Instead we should try to the best of our ability to honor and respect their religious practices, even if in our modern scientific age we are not wholly able to adopt them.

In summary, then, I would say that fairies were originally the deified spirits of the dead, who may have been thought to become one with a deity or deities.  The Fairy Hill was at one and the same time the location of the Otherworld or, more precisely, was either a PORTAL to the Otherworld or a physical locality that symbolized the Otherworld.  I tend to favor this last interpretation, i.e. the barrow mound represents the earth into which the sun sets and from which it rises.  As such, the Fairy Hill was not only a house of the dead, but a palace of the gods and of the ancestral spirits.

We must disavow ourselves of the conceit that we can dance around with fairies or BE fairies.  These are things we can engage in only once we have passed over to the spirit realm.  And I, for one, am not yet ready to travel to the land of fairy!  I may go out to the family mound on a bright, sunny day to commune with my ancestors, to honor them in whatever poor fashion I have at my disposal.  Those blessed with shamanic gifts or the Second Sight may be capable of more intimate relations with Otherworld spirits - but they still acknowledge them as such, and are well aware of their potential for ill as well as for good. But it is presumptuous for us to attempt to lay claim to that which does not yet belong to us.  One might almost say that to do so is a sacrilege of a uniquely pagan sort.

Eventually, death comes to everyone, of course.  We join at last in the revelry of our ancestors within the earth, feasting and making merry for time without end.  As the poet Robert Graves said, ‘And you’ll be fairies all’ (Cherry Time, 1918).

ANDVARI’S RING AND THE BRISINGAMEN NECKLACE

Wagner made the story of Andvari’s ring famous in his RING CYCLE opera – where, however, Andvari’s place is taken by Alberich the ‘Elf-king’.  Tolkien also utilized the story of Andvari’s cursed ring to forge his mighty LORD OF THE RINGS trilogy.  Yet behind these works of art and storytelling there is myth, raw and waiting to be tamed.  What I would like to do in this article is to first give a summary of the story of Andvari’s ring – as it is found in the Norse sources – and then to analyze it as a mythic construct.  Following this I will similarly treat of the Brisingamen myth.

The story of Andvari’s ring is all bound up with that of Sigurd the Dragon-slayer, the Volsungs and Gjukings, Atli (= Attila the Hun), etc.  It all begins when the gods kill a man called Otter and must pay a wergild or ‘man-payment’ in recompense.  They capture Andvari and threaten him with death unless he gives them his treasure.  He is forthcoming with his gold, but tries to hold back one gold ring because with this ring he could make more wealth for himself.  He is not allowed to keep even this, however, and the gods take possession of treasure and ring.  Andvari curses the ring, saying it shall bring death to whoever possesses it.

Fafnir, brother of Otter, now kills his father and takes the gold up onto a heath, where he builds a lair for himself.  He transforms into a dragon and lies upon the gold, guarding it as dragons are wont to do.  Sigurd the Volsung, son of Sigmund, ends up slaying Fafnir and taking the gold.  He comes upon a mountain with a hall atop it that is surrounded by a flickering fire.  Being unusually brave, he rides through the fire and awakens the valkyrie within the hall.  Her name is Brynhild.  She had displeased Odin and he had put her to sleep with a thorn, saying that she would never again be a valkyrie, but would marry a mortal man.

Sigurd then unaccountably leaves Brynhild, still trapped in her fiery hall atop the mountain.  He arrives at the court of the Gjukings, where he meets and eventually marries Gudrun.  It turns out that Brynhild is the sister of Atli, and Gunnar, Gudrun’s brother, wishes to marry the valkyrie.  But Gunnar, not being as brave as Sigurd, cannot ride his horse through the flames atop the mountain.  So Sigurd magically assumes Gunnar’s shape, enters the hall, sleeps with Brynhild (the placing of the sword between them is transparently Freudian) and gives her the cursed ring to wear.  He takes one of her rings in exchange.

They all travel back to the land of the Gjukings, and Brynhild believes the man who entered the hall and freed her from the fire is Gunnar, whom she marries.  The two queens get in an argument about the degree of prowess of their respective husbands and in anger Gudrun reveals to Brynhild that it was Sigurd, and not Gunnar, who rescued her from the mountain imprisonment.  As proof she flashes the ring Brynhild had given Sigurd, which the hero in turn had thoughtlessly granted to Gudrun.

Brynhild now incites Gunnar and his brother Hogni to slay Sigurd.  They do so, and Brynhild immolates herself on Sigurd’s funeral pyre. The treasure and the cursed ring pass to the Gjukings.

Gudrun is married to Atli in an attempt to mollify the king for the loss of his sister, Brynhild.  But Gudrun, seeking revenge for her husband, eggs on Atli to destroy the Gjukings and take their treasure.  He invites the Gjukings to his court, where he has them killed.  There is no treasure for him to enjoy, however, for the Gjukings had hidden in it the Rhine.  Gudrun then kills Atli and the two sons she had by him, before throwing herself into the sea.

This, in brief, is the story of the cursed ring.

My analysis:  the gold ring, and indeed gold in general, is symbolic of the sun.  I have discussed before the lunar nature of the dragon, and how this monster’s lying upon the gold and guarding it within the funeral mound has to do with the sun and the moon being in the underworld.  So what is the curse of the sun-ring?  We cannot rest content with seeing the curse as merely a plot device, something many interpreters of the story have done in the past.

Firstly, it is the gods, and chiefly Odin, who introduce the sun-ring to men.  This is important.  Odin’s role was to foment war and bring as many slain warriors to Valholl as he could manage.  The cursed ring is thus his tool to bring this about.  The fire and mountain of Brynhild can be likened to the many saga accounts of funeral barrows surrounded by the same flames.  I have suggested previously that these flames stand for the fiery cloud, through which the sun and moon and other planets must pass before they can set into the earth.  Brynhild herself, being a valkyrie, is the goddess over whom warriors will contend.  But as the story of the Brisingamen necklace will show (see below), there is more to it than this.  Sigurd and Gunnar, Gjukings and Huns – these individual men or entire armies are the avatars of celestial deities.  They are locked forever into an everlasting seasonal battle.  One party is victorious and wins the goddess, but only holds onto her for half a year.  Then his ‘double’ defeats him, takes the goddess and rules for the remaining half-year.  The battle is truly an Everlasting one, for year after year passes by, and the sun, moon, etc., die and are reborn over and over again.

The ring is thus cursed in precisely this fashion: whoever possesses it is doomed to be slain by his seasonal twin.  Everything in the Eddaic mythology strongly points to the goddess being the moon, and the god being the sun – despite Snorri Sturluson’s insistence that the moon is male and the sun is female.  We can be relatively certain that the GOLDEN ring does, in fact, represent the sun.  Gold is the color and metal of the sun, and in the story the object is taken from the underworld (Svartalfaheim or ‘Black Elf Home’) up into the world/sky, back into the dragon lair/underworld of Fafnir (the dead man-turned-into-lunar dragon), then into the underworld-mountain/barrow with Brynhild, back out of the underworld-mountain/barrow, and finally back into the underworld via the Rhine river.

The hero-as-god makes his journey to the underworld, of course.  We are to see this as emblematic of death, and his return from the underworld as an act of rebirth. Ultimately, all those who contend for the sun-ring/goddess will die, but the corollary is a promise resurrection.  This is the principle lying behind Valholl, where the champions are constantly slaying each other, only to rise again to continue battling.

A warrior best honored his beloved valkyrie by either slaying his rival, or being slain by his rival.  Either way, he assured himself of immortality.

Let us now take a look at the Brisingamen necklace.  To begin, the name is related to Norwegian brisa, ‘to shine’.  We are told in the “Sorla thattr” that the necklace was forged by four dwarves; hence, like Andvari’s ring it has a subterranean origin.  Freyja must spend a night with each of the dwarves in order to obtain it.  When Loki tells Odin about the goddess’s indiscretions, Odin forces Loki to get the necklace for him.  Loki does so, but Freyja demands its return.  Odin makes such a return conditional on her starting an eternal conflict between two kings.

This myth is fairly easy to interpret.  Freyja obtains the sun-necklace from the underworld.  The sky-father, one of whose eyes is the sun (the same eye he deposits in the Well of Mimir), takes the sun from her.  His giving the sun back to the goddess marks his establishment of the seasonal battle, something that shows the usual patriarchal prerogative being asserted over that which had originally belonged solely to Freyja.  In other words, Freyja’s starting of the Everlasting Battle is made dependent on her being forced to do so by Odin.

We are also told that Loki and Heimdall, two gods, contended for the Brisingamen on an island in the shape of seals.  However, this is Snorri’s “take” on an obscure strophe in the Husdrapa, where the object being contended for is called hafnyra or ‘sea-kidney’.  Various theories have been proposed to account for the true nature of this object (see Simek).  The Cleasby-Vigfusson Icelandic Dictionary has: haf-nýra, n., poët. a 'sea-kidney,' a pearl, Hd.  If this is correct, then the Brisingamen necklace may have been a pearl necklace or, at least, a necklace whose pendant was thought to be an unusually large and fine pearl.  Needless to say, while some pearls are irregularly shaped, it would not be usual to define one in a kenning as being like a kidney in form.

I think a more profitable angle to take would be to recall that Freyja’s tears were said to become red gold (in Snorri’s “Skaldskaparmal”).  As tears regularly fall upon one's neck and breast, the idea of the goddess wearing a necklace of red gold may easily have developed.  Once again, gold is the color and metal of the sun.

The Brisingamen appears as Brosinga mene in “Beowulf”, where we are told Hama carried it off from Eormanric’s hall.  Although I have not seen the connection made before, this looks like an allusion to the German “Koning Ermenrikes Dot’ or “King Ermanaric’s Death”.  In this ballad, Ermanaric is lodged in his castle Friesach.  Dietrich of Bern and his warriors enter disguised as dancers and slay Ermanaric and his men.  Friesach is spelled FREISACK in the text, and while of Slavic origin this place-name may well have been fancifully associated with the goddess name Freyja.  Hama is the champion Heime of the Dietrich epics, a name which could well have been brought into connection with the Norse god Heimdall.

WHO WAS HAGEN/HOGNI, THE MURDERER OF SIEGFRIED/SIGURD?

One of the most important, indeed central, characters of the medieval Germanic Nibelungenlied and its related Scandinavian poems and sagas is Hagen, or Hogni in the Old Norse.  He is the murderer of Siegfried, ON Sigurd.  By his act he plunges the Burgundians and the Huns, as well as their allies, on a collision course that will destroy both kingdoms.  He remains perhaps the most fascinating and complex of the heroes in this epic tragic poem.

Yet, curiously, in the words of A.T. Hatto, famed translator of the Nibelungenlied, “Hagano is not known to history.  His name does not alliterate with the names of the Burgundian kings.”  Some have seen in him an incarnation of Wotan, Norse Odin, for he is said to be one-eyed, a characteristic mentioned in both the Nibelungenlied and in Waltharius.

Hagen is said to be lord of Tronege (a place-name exbibiting a simple metathesis), which is Tournai. We find Tournai spelled in forms such as Latin Toronicis in Gregory of Tours’ History of the Franks.  Gregory’s work gives the historical account of the assassination of Sigibert.

In Book IV.51, we learn that King Sigibert, husband of Queen Brunhild, the immediate historical prototype for Siegfried, who wins Brunhild for Gunther, has sent an army to besiege King Chilperic in Tournai.  Queen Fredegund, Chilperic’s wife, sends two young man (in the Latin, duo pueri) with poisoned scramasaxes to speak with Sigibert, who is gathering the rest of his army at the royal villa of Vitry (Victuriaco in the text; estate of Victorius).  They stab him and he dies a short time after.

Neither of the names of these two young men is recorded.  So what to do with Hagen or Hagano, thought to derive from a root with a meaning ‘hedge’ or ‘enclosure’?

Well, let us look first at the entry for Tournai in the Dictionary of Continential Celtic Place-Names:

Turnacum

LN

LN: Tournai/(Flemish Doornik [OFlem. Dornick]) (B). Turnaco TP 1,3; Turnacum IA 376,7; 377,2; 377, 5;  378,9; (var. turnum) 378,11; Tornacensis ND oc 11, 57, Turnacensium 28,15;  Ciuitas Turnacensium (var. tornatensium, turnacentium, turiacensium) NG 6, 8;  Infra Thornacensis muros Greg. Tur. HF 4, 35 (50), a Thornaco 36 (51), Tornacum  5, 15 (22), In pago Tornacensi 5, (49), Tornacensis 10, 27; Genio Turnace(n)siu[m]  CIL 13, 3565; etc. Celtic, an -?ko- derivative of a PN Turn(i)us. Acording to Delamare (DLG: 304-5), directly to G.  turno- ?height?? < *t?er-?, cfr. Breton tornaot ?clif, slope?.

Note the Old Flemish Dornick especially, but also the forms in Torn- or Thorn-.

Compare these with the second element in the following word for hawthorn:

OE. haga, identical in form with haga hedge, fence, connection with which appears to be shown by the forms of hawthorn, OE. haga-, haguðorn = MDu. hagedorn (Du. haagdoorn), MHG. hagendorn (G. hagedorn), ON. hagþorn; cf. OE. hæġðorn ‘hedge-thorn’.

MHG hagendorn is the most interesting form here.  If we may assume that a fairly typical folk etymology attached itself to Tournai early on, linking the Celtic name wrongly with the Germanic word for ‘thorn’, then Hagano as ‘hedge’ would be the natural complement.  Hagen(e) von Tronege would then be, quite simply, “Hedge of the Thorn-Place” or, perhaps, quite literally ‘Hawthorn’.

Hagen, then, is a fictitious name for one of the unnamed assassins of Sigibert the Frank.  But if so, why does he appear to have been associated with Wotan?

Well, let’s go look at the Old Icelandic Saga of the Volsungs.  There, when Sigurd awakens Brynhild, we learn that Odin had put her in the enchanted sleep by pricking her with a “sleep THORN (Old Icelandic svefn-thorn).  He had done this because she awarded victory to the wrong man, slaying Hjalmgunnar instead of his adversary.  Helm-gunnar is here a nice foreshadowing of King Gunnar of the Burgundians.

One of Odin’s names was Svafnir, according to Simek, “the one who puts to sleep = death?”.

But can we identify this particular thorn with the hawthorn?  Perhaps.  Brynhild tells Sigurd not only that Odin had pricked her with the sleep-thorn, but that

“He also said that I must marry.”

The hawthorn is the tree of May 1st or Beltaine in Celtic lands, and was the tree usually used for the Maypole.  The same is also true of the maibum of Germany, which could be birch or maple, but also hawthorn.  And, of course, May is traditionally the month of marriages.  So it stands to reason that the thorn used by Odin to put Brynhild in her enchanted sleep, a state she would remain in until awakened by the man who would claim her as his wife, would be from a hawthorn tree.  In the case of Brynhild, sleep and awakening is symbolic of the rebirth of the lunar goddess.  I have elsewhere discussed the fire-encircled mountain top and the smoke and flame-encircled barrow of Germanic myth, themselves merely symbols of the cloud-covered earth.  The sun and moon and other heavenly bodies must pass through the fiery cloud before they can set into the earth or rise into the sky.

Hagen of Tronege as the ‘hedge-thorn’ thus became a hypostasis for Odin in his guise as Svafnir, the Bringer of Sleep/Death.

As an Odinic character, Hagen quite rightly enjoys considerable interplay with both of the valkyrie characters Brunhilt and Kriemhilt.  I've already shown that historically speaking, Brunhilt (or Brunhild or Brynhildr) was the wife of the Frankish king Sigebert.  Her name is from OHG brunia, 'byrnie', plus hiltia, 'conflict'.  This last word is found in Old Norse sources for a valkyrie and so Brunhilt taking on valkyrie characteristics during the development of heroic legend is easy enough to account for.  Kriemhilt, originally from an OHG grim, 'terrible', was later replaced with grim (cf. OE grima, mask, helmet, ON grima, cowl, hood), plus the same hiltia.  We know Odin went by the names Grimnir and Grimr, the 'masked one'. Although Kriemhilt becomes Gudrun in the Old Norse sources, she takes the place of Fredegunda in Gregory of Tours, where that queen's conflict with Brunhildis after the murder of the latter's husband Sigebert (Siegfried/Sigurd) is recorded.

Christianity and the new fashion for courtly romance obscured the true nature of the valkyrie, and did much to make ambiguous a story that was once more myth than history or legend.  As I've written about elsewhere, men fought and died for the sake of the valkyrie.  She not only took the souls of dead warriors from the battlefield to Valholl, but she also instigated all warfare.  Kriemhilt's inciting of mayhem is well in keeping with the role of the valkyrie, and many a woman in the Icelandic sagas exhibit this same personality trait.  But there is even another level that has been preserved in this story that is sometimes missed by a reader unfamiliar with the structure and meaning of Germanic myth.

When Sigurd first comes to Brynhild, he is said to chastely lay his sword between them when they sleep.  This is veiled language for intercourse with the goddess, as everyone who lives in the post-Freudian world knows what Sigurd's sword represents in this case.  Later, he again comes to the goddess/valkyrie, but this time IN THE FORM OF GUNTHER/GUNNAR.  He later sexually subdues and supposedly deflowers Brynhild IN HIS CAPACITY AS GUNTHER/GUNNAR.  The meaning of this, read mythically, is simple and straight-forward: Siegfried and Gunther are not only the quintessential opponnents for the goddess, but are the classic "twins' of the year who share the goddess between themselves.  The same twins in the persons of the Einherjar battle daily until Ragnarok for the same goddess.  This seasonal battle is at the root of most never-ending battle stories.  Celtic culture has similar themes imbedded in its myth.  Quite often these themes have to do with the Goddess of Sovereignty, whom one must possess in order to be king and rule over the land.

So we are not to buy into the "betrayal motif" concerning Brynhild.  The actual victim of the never-ending battle cycle, represented symbolically by Siegfried and Gunther's "sharing" of the queen, is not the goddess.  Rather, the willing victims are the warriors who struggle and die for her, over and over and over until the end of the world.

SPEAKER OF SECRETS: PROPHECY AND THE HEAD OF MIMIR

The god Mimir (“the Rememberer”) is very important in Norse myth, although equally as obscure.  What we do know about him can be set forth below in summary form:

According to Snorri Sturluson’s “Ynglinga Saga”, Mimir is one of the peace hostages the Aesir send to the Vanir in exchange for Kvasir.  The Vanir cut off Mimir’s head and send it back to the Aesir.  Odin preserves the head with herbs and incantations.  He thus gives the head the power to speak to him and thereby to reveal to him many secrets.

In the Eddas the portrait of Mimir is somewhat different.  There he (or his head?) presides over the famous Well of Mimir, which is

“…under the root [of the World Tree] that goes to the frost giants… Wisdom and intelligence are hidden there, and Mimir is the name of the well’s owner.  He is full of wisdom because he drinks of the well from the Gjallarhorn.  All-Father [= Odin] went there and asked for one drink from the well, but he did not get this until he gave one of his eyes as pledge:  As it says in the Sibyl’s Prophecy 28:

Odin, I know all,

Where you hid your eye

In that famous

Well of Mimir.

Each morning

Mimir drinks mead

From Val-Father’s pledge.

Do you know now or what?”

(Snorri’s Edda, Gylfaginning 15)

According to Fjolsvinnsmal 20 and 24, the World Tree itself, normally called Yggdrasill, the Terrible One’s Horse, i.e. Odin’s Horse, is also referred to as Mimameidr or “Mimir’s Pole/Tree”.  A Hoddmimir’s Wood in listed in Vafthrudnismal 45 as a name for the tree, again Yggdrasill, where the survivors of the Ragnarok (elsewhere Lif and Lifthrasir) are sheltered.  Mimir’s Sons, not otherwise identified, are mentioned in Voluspa 46 at the beginning of the account of Ragnarok, the Doom of the Powers at the end of the world.  Grimnismal 50 names Mimir ‘Sokkmimir’ or Sunken-Mimir, makes him the son of a Midvidnir, and tells us Odin slew him.  Finally, Mimir’s name is found in the Thular as the name of a giant, and the kenning ‘Mimir’s friend’ for Odin occurs in Sonatorrek 23 and Volu-Stein 1.

The first thing we must get out of the way actually concerns the god Heimdall.  As we have Odin’s eye being drunk from by Mimir, we need to determine what connection, if any, this eye has to do with Heimdall’s Gjallarhorn, the ‘resounding horn’.  In Voluspa 46 this horn is blown by Heimdall to warn the gods at the beginning of Ragnarok.  Snorri has this in Gylfaginning 26 and 50, although as we have seen already in Gylfaginning 15 above he refers to the Gjallarhorn as a drinking horn with which Mimir drinks from his own well.

Scholars have discussed a further confusion over Heimdall’s horn.  In the Sibyl’s Prophecy 27, we are told that Heimdall’s ‘hljod’ is hidden under the World Tree. The complete listing for hljod from the Cleasby-Vigfusson Icelandic dictionary is as follows:

HLJÓÐ, n. [Ulf. hliuþ = GREEK, 1 Tim. ii. 11, in Uppström's edition; cp. A. S. hleoðor = sound; mid. H. G. lût; cp. O. H. G. hliodar; Germ. laut; Dan. lyd; Swed. ljud; akin to it are several Gr. and Lat. words with an initial GREEK, cl; the original meaning is hearing or the thing heard, like Gr. GREEK and hljóð, hljómr, hlust (q. v.) are kindred words; hence comes the double sense of this word in Icel., sound and silence.

The ‘hearing’ of Heimdall was legendary.  According to Snorri (Gylgaginning 27), “He hears the grass growing on the earth and the wool on sheep, as well as everything else that makes more noise.”

The same Eddaic strophe that mentions the hearing of Heimdall also relates the springing forth of a stream with ‘loamy/clayey/muddy flood’ (aurgom forsi) from the wager of the Father of the Slain, i.e. from the solar eye of Odin.

While there may indeed be confusion here over the hearing of Heimdall and his sound-producing horn, it is also quite possible the hljod should not be interpreted in this context as HEARING, but as SOUND.  In other words, what Sibyl’s Prophecy 27 has hidden under the tree is the SOUND THAT ISSUES FROM THE GJALLARHORN.  And as Simek relates under his entry for the Gjallarhorn, there are other instances of a war or hunting horn doubling as a drinking horn.

In my previous article on the valknut, I demonstrated that the white ‘clay’ or ‘mud’ that the Norns draw along with water from the Well of Urd and coat the heavenly tree with was symbolic of the white cloud covering the sky.  It is fortunate for us that Sibyl’s Prophecy 27 refers to the liquid that streams from Odin’s eye as a ‘loamy/clayey/muddy’ flood.  This tells us we are NOT dealing here with the solar light reflected from the moon, which is the case with the fabled mead of poetry.  Instead, what we have is a myth which tells of the rising of the sun in the morning from the sea (= Well of Mimir AND the Well of Urd) and the sun/eye/drinking horn’s passing up through the cloud to give the Sky-Father his “drink”.  It is also possible, of course, that the early Norse knew that it was the sun that generated clouds, as its appearance could cause mist to rise from other bodies of water.  If this were so, the sun-horn might have been seen as drawing up the cloud from the sea.

Mimir is thus yet another version of Odin the Sky-Father.

And Mimir’s decapitated head?  According to the Eddas, the primeval giant Ymir was slain by Odin (as Sokkmimir was slain by the same god).  Of Ymir’s skull the sky was made, while his brains became the clouds.  The Norns use the clouds to help preserve the Sky-Tree from decay.  Similarly, Odin uses herbs and incantations to preserve Mimir’s head.  I would propose, therefore, that Mimir’s head as the sky/dome of heaven that stretches over and covers the sea/Well of Mimir represents an attempt to identify Odin the Sky Father with the sky-skull of the primeval giant.  This is a sort of symbol transference and is a game regularly engaged in by the Norse poets.

MITHOTHYN AS ODIN OF THE TREE/GALLOWS

In Book 1 of Saxo Grammaticus’s HISTORY OF THE DANES (Elton translation), we are told about a certain sorcerer named Mithothyn who takes over rule of the gods upon Odin’s exile:

“At this time there was one Odin, who was credited over all Europe with the honour, which was false, of godhead, but used more continually to sojourn at Upsala; and in this spot, either from the sloth of the inhabitants or from its own pleasantness, he vouchsafed to dwell with somewhat especial constancy. The kings of the North, desiring more zealously to worship his deity, embounded his likeness in a golden image; and this statue, which betokened their homage, they transmitted with much show of worship to Byzantium, fettering even the effigied arms with a serried mass of bracelets. Odin was overjoyed at such notoriety, and greeted warmly the devotion of the senders. But his queen Frigga, desiring to go forth more beautified, called smiths, and had the gold stripped from the statue. Odin hanged them, and mounted the statue upon a pedestal, which by the marvellous skill of his art he made to speak when a mortal touched it. But still Frigga preferred the splendour of her own apparel to the divine honours of her husband, and submitted herself to the embraces of one of her servants; and it was by this man's device she broke down the image, and turned to the service of her private wantonness that gold which had been devoted to public idolatry. Little thought she of practicing unchastity, that she might the easier satisfy her greed, this woman so unworthy to be the consort of a god; but what should I here add, save that such a godhead was worthy of such a wife? So great was the error that of old befooled the minds of men. Thus Odin, wounded by the double trespass of his wife, resented the outrage to his image as keenly as that to his bed; and, ruffled by these two stinging dishonours, took to an exile overflowing with noble shame, imagining so to wipe off the slur of his ignominy.

When he had retired, one Mit-othin, who was famous for his juggling tricks [‘a famous illusionist’ in the Peter Fisher translation], was likewise quickened, as though by inspiration from on high, to seize the opportunity of feigning to be a god; and, wrapping the minds of the barbarians in fresh darkness, he led them by the renown of his jugglings [or ‘reputation for magicianship’] to pay holy observance to his name. He said that the wrath of the gods could never be appeased nor the outrage to their deity expiated by mixed and indiscriminate sacrifices, and therefore forbade that prayers for this end should be put up without distinction, appointing to each of those above his especial drink-offering. But when Odin was returning, he cast away all help of juggling [or ‘conjuring’], went to Finland to hide himself, and was there attacked and slain by the inhabitants. Even in his death his abominations were made manifest, for those who came nigh his barrow were cut off by a kind of sudden death; and after his end, he spread such pestilence that he seemed almost to leave a filthier record in his death than in his life: it was as though he would extort from the guilty a punishment for his slaughter. The inhabitants, being in this trouble, took the body out of the mound, beheaded it, and impaled it through the breast with a sharp stake; and herein that people found relief.

The death of Odin's wife revived the ancient splendour of his name, and seemed to wipe out the disgrace upon his deity; so, returning from exile, he forced all those, who had used his absence to assume the honours of divine rank, to resign them as usurped; and the gangs of sorcerers that had arisen he scattered like a darkness before the advancing glory of his godhead. And he forced them by his power not only to lay down their divinity, but further to quit the country, deeming that they, who tried to foist themselves so iniquitously into the skies, ought to be outcasts from the earth.”

The problem has been an inability to determine exactly whom Mithothyn is – and this is because no good etymology has been proposed for his name.  It has long been suspected that the –othyn component of this name does preserve that of “Odin”.  Other gods in Norse myth take Odin’s place, including Ullerus (probably Ullr) and Odin’s brothers, Vili and Ve.

The three leading etymological theories are:

1) A derivation from Old Norse mjotudr, ‘dispenser of fate, ruler, judge’; ‘bane, death’

2) An otherwise non-extant Norse form of Old Indian mithu, ‘false’, for a ‘False Odin’

3) Old Norse med, ‘with’, plus Odin, thus an error for a phrase reading ‘with Odin’, thought to be a reference to another deity who regularly accompanied Odin, such as Loki, who was known for getting the gods into and out of bad predicaments

None of the proposed derivations are particularly attractive.

Would the following work better, perhaps?  If we bear in mind we are getting this name from Saxo's rather late medieval Latin, could this not me 'Meid(r)-Odin'?  From Norse myth we know well of the Mimameidr or Mimi's (Mimir's) Tree, another name for Odin’s Yggdrasill.  We also find Mimir, Hoddmimir and Sokkmimir.  Odin is brought into close connection with Mimir, especially the latter's head; in fact, I have elsewhere made a case for Mimir being but an aspect of Odin himself.  Certainly, Odin (who even bears the name of Yggr) is linked to Yggdrasill the world tree, and to gallows-trees as vehicles of human sacrifice.  Like Mimir, Mithothyn is decapitated.  One cannot help but wonder (the obvious draugr motif parallel aside) if the stake with which Mithothyn is impaled may not be the pole or tree, ritually speaking, and thus be symbolically representative of Mimameidr/Yggdrasill.

Mimir is also part of the story of the Aesir and the Vanir, and some (see Dumezil) have thought Mithothyn's role may have some bearing on that particular myth.

That the Mithothyn in Saxo Grammaticus who takes Odin's place is actually Meid(r)-Odin or Tree/Gallows Odin receives some additional support from the ancient Old Icelandic Eddic poem, Havamal (strophe 138):

Veit ek, at ek hekk

vindga meiði á

nætr allar níu,

geiri undaðr

ok gefinn Óðni,

sjalfr sjalfum mér,

á þeim meiði,

er manngi veit

hvers af rótum renn.

Here Odin himself tells us he has hung on the windy tree, ‘vindga MEIDI’, for nine nights, a sacrifice to himself.  This sacrifice is performed so that he may win the runes.

It may be that the form of Odin worshipped at Odense or ‘Odin’s Ve’, Odin’s Shrine, on Fyn was none other than Meidr-Odin, i.e. Odin of the Gallows-Tree. I would note in passing that the Ve who is called Odin’s brother is the same word for “shrine” or “temple” as that found in the Odense place-name.

NINE NIGHTS ON THE TREE: ODIN’S SELF-SACRIFICE AND HIS OBTAINING OF THE RUNES

The subject of this article is NOT the paleographical study of the Norse (or Germanic, or Anglo-Saxon) runes.  The origin and development of runic letters, as scholars maintain, may indeed lie in their relationship to other, earlier Mediterranean alphabets (although it must be stressed that the field of runic paleography is still a highly contentious one and no single theory clearly predominates).  Here I will restrict myself to a brief MYTHOLOGICAL interpretation of Odin’s winning of the runes.

The only account we have of Odin’s self-hanging on the World Tree Yggdrasill (‘Terrible One’s Horse’; Yggr being a name for Odin) is found in the Poetic Edda’s “Havamal” or Sayings of the High One.  The relevant stanzas in the Carolyne Larrington translation run as follows:

I know I hung on a windy tree

Nine long nights,

Wounded with a spear, dedicated to Odin,

Myself to myself,

On that tree of which no man knows

From where it roots run.

No bread did they give me nor a drink from a horn,

Downwards I peered;

I took up the runes, screaming I took them,

Then I fell back from there.

Carolyne Larrington’s note on the first strophe is informative:

“Odin performs a sacrifice by hanging for nine nights on the tree Yggdrasill, pierced with a spear in order to gain knowledge of the runes.  The parallels with the Crucifixion are marked, though interpretation is controversial.  The motif of the Hanged God is widespread in Indo-European and ancient Near Eastern religion, however, so direct Christian influence need not be present here.”

I would add that while in the main this statement is correct, it does not address the parallel of the the casting of the lots by the soldiers present at Christ’s Crucifixion.  As Matthew 27:35 puts it:

“And when they had crucified him, they divided his clothes among themselves by casting lots…”

Tacitus in his “Germania” describes the use of runes in a lot-casting ceremony:

“To divination and lot-casting they pay the greatest attention.  They lop a branch from a fruit-bearing tree and cut it into slices, which they mark with distinguishing signs [Latin notae] and scatter at random without order on a white cloth.”

This casting of runes AS IF THEY WERE LOTS is markedly similar to the casting of lots in the Christ story. True, the Roman soldiers were engaging in a form of gambling, not prophecy.

More important than whether Christian influence is present in the account of Odin’s winning of the runes is what the actor and various objects in the Norse myth represent.  And it is to these that I will now turn my attention.

Odin was the Sky-Father and thus the sky or heaven itself.  His two eyes were the sun and the moon.  When I treated of Mimir’s Head and Well in a previous article, we saw that the Sky-Father “gave up” his solar eye, leaving him with only the one lunar eye.  When he is referred to as the one-eyed god, then, we are to assume that the sun is not in the sky, i.e. he is the Sky-Father of night and the moon.  This may be significant, as the moon was male in the Snorri’s system, while the sun is said to be female.

Yggdrasill the World Tree is also emblematic of the sky.  In my short piece on the valknut, I have made a case for the white clay the Norns spread on the tree to keep it white being symbolic of the white clouds.  There is little reason, therefore, to interpret Yggdrasill as anything other than the pillar whose top lies at the Pole Star and whose branches spread out over the earth.

The spear with which Odin is pierced is a typical lightning spear, the weapon of the Sky Father.  It is Gungnir, of course, Odin’s own spear.

But are we to view Odin hanging on the tree as the sky hanging on the sky?  While this kind of duplication in mythic language is not without precedent, I think that the presence of the number nine in the account of his hanging is telling.  Nine betokens the moon, and the moon rules the night.  As Odin the One-Eyed is the god of night and of the lunar eye, I would suggest that he hangs upon the sky tree during a thunderstorm as the moon.

If so, what do we make of the runes?  What do they represent?  The scream of Odin is most assuredly the voice of thunder.  The thunderclap attends the strike of the lightning-spear, the weapon that wounds the god.  Odin peers downward and picks up – what, exactly?  Before he falls off of the sky-tree, apparently setting into the earth as the lunar eye, what does he take up?

Well, Tacitus tells us the runes WERE MARKED ON PIECES OF A TREE.  In my book “The Mysteries of Avalon: A Primer on Arthurian Druidism”, I guessed that the shape of runes may have been likened to the forked tines of heavenly lightning. And the lightning-weapon is found as mistletoe in the myth of Balder's death.  We know Celtic druids cut mistletoe from the oak tree (symbolic of the sky tree) and placed the mistletoe on a white cloth.

Where are the rune-marked slips of wood placed in Tacitus’s account?  ON A WHITE CLOTH.  As the fruit-bearing tree represents the Sky-Tree, the white cloth is the cloud that stretches forth over the sky.  The community priest

“… invokes the gods and, with eyes lifted to the sky, picks up three slices of wood, one at a time, and interprets them according to the signs previously marked upon them.”

Substitute here for the community priest Odin himself, PICKING UP the runes from the cloud-cloth.

The runes are marked on pieces of the sky; this much is certain.  If Odin is hanging from the Sky-Tree in his capacity as the lunar eye of night, and must reach down for the runes, we must imagine these marked sky-pieces are resting upon or are above the upper surface of the cloud.  And here was to be found the heavenly lightning, whose form could assume all sorts of forked shapes.  In these shapes lay the mythological pattern for the runic letters.

P.S.  I have a rather unusual personal affinity with Odin.  When I was four and lived in Pennsylvania, I climbed a tree in our family’s yard.  When coming down from the tree, I hung myself through the left armpit on a sharp broken branch.  Although I do not remember the incident, according to my Mother I was unable to detach myself from this prong and remained there for some time: no one knows for how long.  My Mother eventually heard my cries, came out and with difficulty reached up and hoisted me off the offending branch.  I lived only because my axillary artery was not severed.  To this day I bear a very large scar under my left arm as a reminder of the incident.

THE MEAD OF POETRY: ELIXIR OF THE MUSE AND OF ETERNAL LIFE

The story of the mead of poetry begins with a god named Kvasir.  Outside of Snorri Sturluson’s account of this personage and the occurrence of the kenning ‘Kvasir’s blood” for the mead of poetry in ‘Vellekla’ 1, there is no cultic evidence for him.

I have always suspected Kvasir is merely another of the many epithets applied to Odin.  In Snorri’s ‘Skaldskaparmal’, Kvasir is made from the mixed spittle of the two tribes of the gods, the Aesir and the Vanir.  His name has been associated (see Simek) with Norwegian kvase and Russian kvas, words for berries that were chewed and then spat into a vat for fermentation.  Kvasir is extremely wise and “traveled throughout the world, teaching men knowledge.”  Characteristic and function together sound suspiciously like Odin.

In the ‘Saga of King Half and His Champions’, we are told that Hott, aka Odin, spits into the mash to create the mead that Geirhild needs in order to become wife of Alrek.  Odin’s price for offering his spittle is “what was between the mash tub and her”.  As Geirhild is pregnant, this turns out to be Alrek’s son Vikar, who would be given to Odin by Starkad through the process of human sacrifice by hanging.

The fact that it is Odin’s spittle here which engenders the fermentation of the best mead points to his identification with Kvasir, literally the god who was the personification of mead-producing spittle.  Or perhaps it would be more proper to say that Kvasir IS the spittle of Odin.

After the creation of Kvasir, he is slain and his blood poured into three vats.  The three vats end up in the possession of the giant Suttung, who places them inside a mountain with his daughter Gunnlod as guardian.  Gunnlod, ‘Battle-inviter’, is the goddess as valkyrie and is shown depicted on Gotland picture stones offering mead horns to gods or warriors entering Valholl.  Odin, calling himself Bolverk or ‘Evil-worker’, bores his way into the mountain, passing through the hole in the form of a snake.  He seduces Gunnlod, drinks the mead from the three vats, changes into an eagle and flies back to Asgard.  Suttung pursues in eagle form, but Odin beats him to the home of the gods, spitting out the mead into three more vats.

What are we to make of this myth?  The following would be my interpretation (which will make more sense as additional Odinic wisdom-winning stories are treated of in the near future):

The three vats (cf. the three round underworld stones to which the god Loki is bound) are representative of the three major phases of the moon – waxing, full and waning.  The eagle-form assumed by Odin and Suttung is the solarized Jupiter/Sky bird.  The mead of poetry, which is taken from the three lunar vats by the solar-eagle and then spat back into essentially the same vats is the light of the sun.  It is the sun’s light that causes the moon to shine and creates it three phases.  If the sun’s light is removed from the moon, we have the invisible New Moon.  So the filling and emptying of the three vats is a poetic way of describing how the moon goes from being dark or devoid of the sun’s light to being lit again.

I would remind readers who might object to this interpretation that the Nine Muses of Classical tradition, who were all subject to Apollo the sun god’s governorship, were a multiplication of the lunar goddess.  Nine is the moon’s number and in the context of the Muses designates the presence of the ‘Triple Threefold’ goddess.  It was the Muse who, by making use of the sun god’s light, inspired poets, artists, musicians and anyone who was undertaking a creative endeavor.

Thus there was the belief that the mead consumed by human beings – which could have an inspiring effect – was the earthly counterpart of the sun god’s blood or Odin’s spittle.  The cup or horn dipped into the mead vat, like Odin the eagle, was symbolic of the sun taking light away from the moon.

The sun and moon are not only divine, but eternal.  Men who partake of the sun's light as it is found in the lunar vat become One with the celestial bodies.  Such Oneness confers a species of immortality.  This goes beyond whatever immortality might be obtained through one's poetry or art.  It is the immortality of the identification of self with divinity.

There is a further seasonal dimension to the mead story.  We are told Odin enters the earth-mountain of Hnitbjorg at the beginning of winter.  This usually was marked sometime in October.  The three nights the god sleeps with Gunnlod are the vetr-naet or 'Winter Nights' festival.  Once Odin steals the mead and flies off with it was the sun-eagle, the goddess's father Suttung pursues in the same shape.  While we not told what fate the giant suffers, we can compare this seasonal motif with that found in the Thjazi and Idunn story, found in Snorri Sturluson's Edda immdiately before the mead story.

In brief, Idunn and her solar apples are stolen by the giant Thjatsi.  Without the fruit of immortality, the gods begin to grow old.  So Loki is sent to retrive the goddess.  Once he has her, he flies back in the hawk-form loaned to him by Freyja.  Thjatsi pursues and is lit on fire at the wall of Asgard, i.e. passes through the fiery cloud before setting into the earth, and is then killed within the gates.  While we're not told when this killing happened, we must assume it was probably at the beginning of the summer half year.

What we have in the story of Idunn and her sun-apples, then, is the transferrence of the goddess from the solar giant of winter, i.e. Thjatsi, to the solar god of summer, i.e. Loki.  Each god would be alternately "killed" when his twin took over for his half-year reign, a reign he enjoyed precisely because of his possession of the goddess.

A BRIEF ESSAY ON NORSE COSMOGRAPHY

Anyone studying the Eddaic version of Norse cosmology, and who bothers to read the remarkable body of secondary literature on the subject, will recognize that the vision preserved in the former can best be described as a pagan world view interpreted through Christian eyes and sometimes altered by the prevailing Christian world-view.  This alteration can be subtle or it can be pronounced, depending on the context.

What I would like to do here is to attempt to dispel some of the Christian overlay on what might have been the original Norse cosmogram.  I delayed writing this piece until I had finished a thorough reading of Neil S. Price’s “The Viking Way: Religion and War in Late Iron Age Scandinavia”.  While I do not agree with all of Dr. Price’s conclusions, his consideration of aspects of Norse culture within the context of Sami and other circumpolar magico-religious practices is an invaluable contribution to Viking studies.  As such, it is has helped me beyond measure when setting out to explore concepts relating to Norse cosmography.

YGGDRASILL/MIMAMEIDR/LAERADR

The axis mundi of the Norse universe is, of course, the world tree Yggdrasill, probably also called Mimameidr and Laeradr.  This tree had as its top the north celestial pole, and it was upon this point that the sky turned.  Because any Norseman would have easily recognized that the further north he got the more directly overhead stood the pole star, the base of the tree can be imagined as standing at the north pole.  We will return to the north pole when we discuss the land of the dead as a place lying “to the north and down”.  The sky/heaven as Ygg, the Terrible One, i.e. Odin the Sky-father, “hung” or rather was suspended atop this pole.  The branches of the tree, like those of a great ash, formed the dome of the sky. Or the sky could be envisioned as Ymir's skull.  This kind of multiple imagery is common in Norse myth, where the same object can be referred to by any number of poetic kennings.

THREE HOLY WELLS

The next most important features of the Norse cosmos are the three sacred wells – the well of Urd, that of Mimir and the Roaring Cauldron/Kettle/Boiler ‘Hvergelmir’.  The two Eddaic accounts on the relative locations of the three roots that run to or under the wells are contradictory.  But there are a couple of poetic motifs that enable us to determine that Jan de Vries was correct when he guessed that, in reality, all three springs are one and the same.

I have in the past shown that the white, clay-like substance the Norns take from the Well of Urd and sprinkle on the tree is, in fact, cloud.  Odin uses his solar eye to get a drink out of the Well of Mimir every morning.  In both cases, we are talking about the wells being representations of the sea.  The Roaring Cauldron is no different.  We are to imagine the great kettle having as its rim the Utgard or Outer Enclosure of the giants.  Midgard, the Middle Enclosure, rises out of the middle of the sea-filled cauldron.  The complete image is of a cauldron whose tight-fitting lid is the dome of the sky.

OTHERWORLD

Although various heavens and heavenly halls are mentioned in the Eddas, we have no way of knowing if these are early Germanic in origin or are due to Christian influence.  But certainly we can detect a fairly major reordering of the Norse Otherworld.  Scholars have shown convincingly (see Simek) that the goddess Hel is a late personification of the grave.  The grave, of course, was not only a portal to the otherworld, but was a symbolic representation of that world.  The sources (see “The Road to Hell” by Hilda Roderick Davidson and similar works) make it plain that early on there was only one Land of the Dead.  Granted, there may well have been different residences in this Otherworld, modeled after the royal halls or farmsteads and such in the world of the living.  Still, there was no a separate “hell” intended for the punishment of the “wicked”.  Valholl, the Hall of the Slain, was within the earth, where the Sun and Moon and other planets set every day or night.  Archaeology and literature unite in making it plain that Valholl was an earthly realm, not a heavenly one.

And this leads us, in turn, to consider the actual location of the Otherworld, along with its entrance.

NIFLHEIM

We need to begin with an examination of Niflheim, which in turn will lead to a consideration of Muspelheim.

Niflheim, “mist/fog-home”, is not an imaginary place, nor is it identical with Hel/the grave or the real Otherworld beyond the grave.  The Home of Fog is a perfectly apt description for the Arctic. From AAR Chapter 2 - Arctic Monitoring and Assessment Programme, we learn of the Artic and its prevalence for fog:

"2.3.3.5. Fog

A characteristic feature of Arctic weather is fog. Parts of the Arctic are extremely foggy due to the juxtaposition of cold air overlying warmer ocean waters in some areas and warm air overlying cold ice in others. In some areas, it is typical to have more than 100 days per year with fog (SCOR 1979). In summer, the ice retreats northward, exposing open water, and warm air moves in over the ice and cold water. Sublimating ice and condensing water form thick fog fields that envelop the marginal ice zones, with peaks in relative humidity over water in August. In winter ‘sea smoke’ or steam fog forms over open water leads in the pack ice (SCOR 1979)."

To get to the Otherworld, then, spirits of the dead must travel north, passing through Mist or Fog Home, i.e. the Artic.  The entrance to the Otherworld would be at the very base of the World Tree/Pole, i.e. the North Pole.  It is interesting to reflect upon the fact that the magnetic force of the earth ENTERS the planet via the north magnetic pole.  We do not know what kind of knowledge the Norse may have had concerning the magnetic properties of the north magnetic pole.  Well after the Viking period we have evidence for beliefs of a magnetic island or rock or mountain in the far north, surrounded by a massive whirlpool (which sounds vaguely reminiscent of Hvergelmir):

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/North_Magnetic_Pole

http://listoffigures.wordpress.com/category/geography/

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rupes_Nigra

It is this same magnetic force, entering by way of the north magnetic pole, that creates the Aurora Borealis or the Northern Lights.  Dr. Price discusses the Sami belief that the Northern Lights were caused by the everlasting battle of those slain in warfare – a motif echoed in the afterlife warriors enjoyed in Valholl.  The Arab writer Ibn Fadlan described the same phenomenon of armies or spectral warriors fighting in the sky when he was traveling in the Volga region.

MUSPELHEIM

The counterpart to Niflheim is Muspelheim.  Muspel has not been satisfactorily etymologized, even though we know it is probably derived from the Mudspelles or Mutspelles/Mutspelli found in the Old Saxon "Heliand", Muspilli in the Old High German poem of that name.  There it is used in a Christian poem that recounts the end of the world in fire.  As Surtr “the Black” (found also spelled 'Svartr') rules Muspelheim, an extremely hot place to the south, and is a sort of god or giant of destructive fire, past derivations of mutspilli/mudspilli have sought to make the word a kenning for fire.

In modern Iceland, Surtr is a personification of volcanism. So where did Surtr and mutspilli/mudspilli come from?

In keeping with my earlier model of the Norse cosmos as a closed boiler, it is likely the original home of volcanic fire was thought of as cooking flames under the suspended Hvergelmir.  Any fire demon would come up from below, passing through the earth – as the writers of the Eddas in Iceland could well attest to.  Yet Surtr is possessed of a “sun sword”, and this may not merely be a poetic description of a brightly flashing weapon.

The hottest place on the earth, at least for awhile now, has been the Lut Desert area in what was Zoroastrian Iran. The Vikings, in Spain and Western Europe, were called al-magjus or the Magi by the Arabs, because they were erroneously thought to be fire-worshippers like the Zoroastrians.  While I realize the Zoroastrians were not themselves fire-worshippers, this was apparently the Arabic perception of them.

Why might this be significant?  According to the Norse tradition, the hosts of Muspelheim, Muspel-"home", will come and destroy the world with fire at the end of time. A similar purification by fire awaited the world according to Zoroastrian eschatology.

I would see in mutspilli or mudspilli something akin to Old Norse modr, 'angry’, found as a first element in several mythological personal names, plus spilla, "to destroy".  For cognates of modr:

got. mōÞs (-d-) `courage, rage, fury' (mōdags `angry, irate'), ahd. mhd. muot `power of spirit; ghost, courage, rage, fury, Begehren, Entschluß', nhd. Mut, Gemöt, ags. mōd ds., aisl. mōðr `rage, fury, wrath';

Old English has mod, spirit, soul, mind, heart, etc.

This sounds an awful lot like the Zoroastrian deity of darkness/blackness and evil, Angra Mainyu or Ahriman, whose name means 'destructive spirit'.  Far-fetched, perhaps. But the Vikings did travel to Arabic lands and it is not impossible some of the Zoroastrian stories made it home with them.

An alternative for Surtr the Black would be to identify him with Satan, called 'the Black One' in the third century Epistle of Barnabas.  And Mudspelli/Muspilli itself, even if ultimately to be derived from Angra Mainyu, came to be used for either Elijah or the Christian God, as is made clear from the context of the 'Muspilli' poem itself (here in English translation):

Muspilli

... his day will come when he must die. As soon as the soul starts on its way and leaves

the corpse behind., a legion comes from the stars of heaven and another comes from the

fire of hell: they fight over the soul. The soul must worry until the decision is made to

which host the soul must go. For if Satan's followers obtain it, they will lead it

immediately to where only pain awaits, in fire and darkness: that is truly a terrible

sentence. But if those who come from heaven fetch it and it belong-s to the angels, they

will bring it immediately to the kingdom of heaven. There, there is life without death,

light without darkness, shelter without cares; no one is ill there. For if a man gains a

place in paradise, a dwelling in heaven, he will receive much help. Therefore it is very

necessary for each man that his heart force him to do God's will gladly and heartily to

avoid the fire and pain of hell, where old Satan awaits with hot flames. He who knows

that he is a sinner should consider this with care. Woe to him who must pay for his sins

in darkness and burn in the fires. It is truly a horrible fate if the man cries to God and

no help comes to him. The miserable soul still hopes for salvation, but it no longer rests

in the thoughts of the heavenly God for it did not show itself worthy of this according

to its acts here in the world. Thus when the mighty king sets the time and place of the

judgement, each family must come, for no man dare avoid the order thinking that not

every man need come to the judgement. There before the judge he must account for

everything which he did in the world.

I have heard the men who are learned in the law of the world tell about how the

Antichrist will come to battle with Elias. The enemy is armed; then the battle will begin

between them. The fighters are so powerful, the cause so great. Elias fights for the

eternal life, he wishes to strengthen the supremacy of the righteous: therefore he who

rules heaven will help him. The Antichrist stands with the archfiend, with Satan who

must allow him to be destroyed: therefore he shall fall wounded on the battlefield and

be defeated there.

But many men of God believe that Elias will be injured in the battle and when

Elias' blood drips on the earth, the mountains will burn, no tree will remain standing

on earth, the rivers will dry up, the swampland will consume itself, the heaven will

slowly perish in flame, the moon will fall, the earth will burn, no stone will remain

standing (or: when these signs appear on earth). The day of judgement will be at hand

and it will come with fire to punish men. No person's kin can help him before the

Muspilli. For when the entire earth is consumed and fire and air sweep everything

away, where then is the allotted ground for which a man fought with his relatives? The

ground is burned away, the soul stands there not knowing what to do nor how to make

amends and thus it goes to hell.

Once we get away from the "boxed-in" notion that Mudspellli/Muspilli must be a kenning for fire, and can accept it instead as an epithet for a person, the reading of this poem's final section becomes quite clear: the Mudspilli or "Furious Destroyer", here probably God, but possibly Elijah, will burn the world with fire.

In "Heliand", we are told (v. 2591) that

"M. comes in the dark night (like a thief hiding his deeds).'

and (v. 4358) that

'until M.'s forces [force/might?] comes over men, the end of the world'

The famous Biblical passages which echo the "like a thief in the night" passage refer to the thief as a metaphor for the 'Day of the Lord', i.e. the time when Christ returns to judge the world with fire.  In Old Testament passages, the Lord's Day is often the time of God's Wrath, and is equated with destruction.  So my etymology for Mudspelli as "Angry or Furious or Wrathful Destroyer" would work equally as well for Christ.

Here is the Biblical reference to the Christian end of the world by fire:

“But by the same word the heavens and earth that now exist have been stored up for fire, being kept until the day of judgment and destruction of ungodly men. 8 But do not ignore this one fact, beloved, that with the Lord one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day. 9 The Lord is not slow about his promise as some count slowness, but is forbearing toward you, not wishing that any should perish, but that all should reach repentance. 10 But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, and then the heavens will pass away with a loud noise, and the elements will be dissolved with fire, and the earth and the works that are upon it will be burned up. 11 Since all these things are thus to be dissolved, what sort of persons ought you to be in lives of holiness and godliness, 12 waiting for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be kindled and dissolved, and the elements will melt with fire! 13 But according to his promise we wait for new heavens and a new earth in which righteousness dwells.

2 Peter 3:6 2 Peter 3:7-13 2 Peter 3:14”

Given these obvious correspondences, the question becomes whether we choose to see the whole Surtr/Muspelheim complex as coming not from Scandinavian tradition, but instead from either the Christian doctrine of the end of the world by fire and/or the Zoroastrian parallel, or if we opt for designating Surt himself as the "Angry Destroyer" and propose that he is a relic of Germanic heathendom who was later incorporated into Christian imagery.

A possible way out of this quandary is to recall a footnote in Jacob Grimm's Teutonic Mythology, p. 931, Volume 3, in which he suggests, quite reasonably, that the Furious Host associated with Wotan (Odin), which has as its first component the same word I have used above to etymologize the mud-/mut- of Mudspelli, is a substitute for wuot, "fury", the root of Wotan's name.  If this is so, then the 'Furious Destroyer' might once have been Odin himself.  I do not think there is much currency in the idea that Christ as the vanquisher of the pagan god Odin was referred to as the 'Fury (i.e. Odin)-destroyer', but this cannot be wholly discounted.

Lastly, it is possible the Angry Destroyer is a partial though literal rendering of Revelations' Abaddon or Apollyon.  Abaddon meant originally "place of destruction" (see the Dictionary of Deities and Demons in the Bible), but came to be personified as "the destroyer".  Apollyon "the Destroyer" is the Greek equivalent, and was a title of Apollo as god of pestilence and destruction.  In Revelations, Abaddon/Apollyon comes up from the Abyss with smoke as if from a gigantic furnace, while the word abaddon is used in Job 31:12 in the context of consuming fire of destruction.

WHY I BELIEVE THE IRMINSUL IS STILL STANDING: A NOTE ON THE CHRISTIANIZATION OF A PAGAN GERMANIC SHRINE BY CHARLEMAGNE

In A.D. 772, Charles the Great supposedly destroyed the Saxon Irminsul, either the “great/giant pillar” or (less likely) the “pillar of [the god] Irmin”.  The Irminsul may well have represented a world tree like that of Odin’s Yggdrasill.  Although we have several references to the actual nature of this pillar, most authorities have assumed it was made of wood, and was, therefore, quite likely to have been the trunk of a large tree, set upright in the ground as a sort of axis mundi.  A case has also been made for the pillar being similar to the Jupiter-Giant columns which are, however, more specifically found in Celtic territory during the Roman period.

While I agree that the Irminsul was probably NOT a Jupiter-Giant column, the chief characteristic of the latter did give me an idea which I have not run across in any of the literature pertaining to the Saxon world tree.  For the Jupiter-Giant columns WERE MADE OF STONE.

As far as I know, Jacob Grimm was the first to suggest that the actual location of the Irminsul was not at Eresburg/Heresburg, now Obermarsburg, but should instead be sought “some 15 miles deeper into the Osning forest” at Eggesterstein, now Externsteine.  Much has been written on this last location, and indeed there is an unusual rock carving there which some think may relate to the Irminsul.

When I went to look at the photos of this amazing place (see http://www.ruengener.eu/anschauen/externsteine/anschauen_04.html), I was struck immediately by an extraordinary thought: the tallest and most slender of the stones at Externsteine is quite obviously A NATURALLY OCCURRING COLUMN OR PILLAR.

Now, I readily admit this may be a faulty observation – one brought about by a mere over-active imagination.  However, if we dare to think a bit “outside the box”, might we not choose to identify this very tall column of rock with the original Irminsul?

What to make, then, of the claim that Charlemagne chopped down or otherwise toppled the Saxon’s holy pillar?  Well, it is conceivable that what he did there was destroy whatever pagan temple had been built at the precinct of the column.  Eventually, as was true of most if not all pagan sacred sites, it was then thoroughly Christianized.  Metaphorically, the Irminsul was destroyed to make way for the Tree or, rather, the Cross of Christ.  But if I’m right and this huge rock pillar is the true Irminsul – not some log stuck in the ground that Charlemagne would have had no difficulty dismantling – then the axis mundi of the Saxons is still standing.

Although it is possible Hermes/Mercury was brought into connection with the Irminsul in the early sources because of a fanciful link between (H)Irmin and Hermes, it is worth remembering that Wotan/Wodan/Odin was identified with the Roman Mercury.  This is why, of course, we now have Wednesday or Woden’s Day rather than Mercredi, as in the French.  It is entirely possible that the stone pillar-tree at Externsteine belonged to Wotan.

Confirmation of the Externsteine as the Irminsul might be found in a decent treatment of the place-name's etymology.  We have the following early forms recorded:

lapis agisterstein

lapis agistersteyn

Egisterstein

Exsterstein

Egersterstein

Exterenstein

Lapis, of course, is merely an explanative term for –stein.  The important part of this word are the agi-ster/steren components.  There are really only two possibilities for agi-, and only one makes sense given the probable meaning of –ster/steren.  The following are from utexas.edu/cola/centers/lrc/ielex/U/OHG.html:

W-Germanic   Old Frisian: eg/ig n.fem edge ASD Frisian: eher n.str.neut ear GED   ig n edge ASD Middle Flemish: egge n edge W7   selvage/selvegge n ravel-resistant fabric edge W7 Old Saxon: eggia n.str.fem tip, edge GED Old High German: aga n magpie GED   agana n.str.fem chaff, ear of grain GED   ahir n.str.neut ear GED   ecka/ekka n.str.fem tip, edge GED/ASD   ehir n.str.neut ear GED Middle High German: ag(e)ne/ane n awn CDC   eck n.neut edge ASD   ecke n.fem edge ASD German: Ähre n.fem ear LRC   akut adj acute, urgent LRC   Äther n ether W7   Eck n.neut edge ASD   Ecke n.fem edge, corner ASD   Essig n vinegar W7   Essigäther n ethyl acetate W7   Ester n organic acid/alcohol compound W7 N-Germanic   Old Norse: egg n.fem edge LRC   eggja, eggjað vb to urge, whet LRC   ögn n ear of grain W7 Old Icelandic: ax n.str.neut ear GED   egg n.str.fem tip, edge GED  ǫgn n.str.fem chaff GED Icelandic: egg n.fem edge ASD   ögn, agnar n awn, chaff CDC Danish: avne n awn, chaff CDC   eg n.masc/fem edge ASD Swedish: agg n.masc prick, resentment GED   agga vb.wk to prick, incite GED   *agn, agnar n awn, chaff CDC   egg n.masc edge ASD E-Germanic   Gothic: ahaks n tame white dove (sacrificial dove; also symbol of the Holy Spirit) GED   ahana n.fem awn, chaff GED   ahs n.neut ear (of grain) GED

W-Germanic   Old Saxon: egiso n.masc awe, terror GED Middle Low German: achte n.str.fem persecution GED   egelen vb to annoy W7 Old High German: agis/egis n.neut horror ASD   agi(so) n.masc awe, fear, terror ASD/GED   āhta n.str.fem persecution GED   akī n.fem awe, terror GED   egī n.fem awe, terror GED   egisa n.fem awe, terror GED   egis-līh adj awful, terrible GED   egiso/ekiso n.masc awe, terror GED/ASD Middle High German: ege n.fem awe, terror ASD   egese/eise n.fem horror ASD German: ekeln vb to ail, trouble; be disgusted ASD N-Germanic   Old Norse: agi n awe AHD/W7   ōgn n.fem awe, fright, terror GED   Óin prop.n Oin (Lay of Regin dwarf) TPE   ótti n.masc fear, dread LRC Old Icelandic: agi n.masc awe, terror; discipline GED/ASD   ōast vb.wk to be afraid GED   œgishjālmr n fearful helmet (transformed Fafnir into dragon) GED   œgja vb.wk to frighten GED Icelandic: agi n.masc terror; discipline ASD Norwegian: egse n.neut agitation GED Danish: ave n.masc/fem awe, terror; discipline ASD E-Germanic   Gothic: *af-agjan vb.wk.I to move, frighten GED   *-agan vb.ptpr.VI to fear GED   agei n.fem awe, terror ASD   agis n.str.neut awe, fear, terror GED   *agls adj disgraceful GED   aglyan vb to molest ASD   *ogan vb.ptpr to fear GED   un-agein adv fearlessly GED   usagjan vb.wk.I to frighten, terrify GED

So, we have either something akin to “edge”, or a meaning such as “terrible”.

The second component, appearing either as ster or stern or similar, can only be:

W-Germanic   Old Frisian: stēra n star GED Dutch: ster n star TLL Old Saxon: sterro n.masc star GED Middle Low German: sterne n.masc star GED Old High German: stern n.masc star GED   sterno n.masc star GED   sterro n.masc star GED German: Stern n.masc star LRC N-Germanic   Old Icelandic: stjarna n.fem star GED Icelandic: stjarna n.fem star ASD Danish: stjerne n star TLL Swedish: stjärna n star TLL E-Germanic   Gothic: *stairno n.fem star GED Crimean Gothic: *stern/stein n star GED/CGo Italic   Latin: aster n.masc star W7   astronomia, astronomiae n.fem astronomy LRC   astrum n.neut star W7   stēlla n.fem star GED Late Latin: asteriscus n.masc little star W7   astralis adj re: stars W7   constellatio n.fem ensemble of stars W7   constellatus vb.ptc studded with stars W7   stellaris adj re: stars W7 Old French: astronomie n astronomy AHD Middle French: constellation n.fem ensemble of stars W7   desastre n.masc disaster W7   disaster n.masc disaster W7 Old Italian: disastro n.masc disaster W7

The name Externsteine, therefore, most likely means the Stone of the Terrible Star – OR “Ygg’s Star’, this being a reference to Odin as Ygg(r), the Terrible One.  Ygg derives from the same Germanic root as what I’m proposing for the agi- of the Externsteine name.  The Norse world tree was called Yggdrasill, the Terrible One’s Horse, a reference to Odin’s “riding” or hanging upon the world tree.

Now, the question becomes: what is the Terrible or Terrible One’s star?  The observation window at Externsteine would point to the sun as deserving of this name.  And this could well be the Terrible One’s star, as we know Odin plucked out his eye as a “pledge” and used it to drink from Mimir’s Well (the sea) every morning.  My own choice for this star, however, would be the North Star, the “top” of the world pillar upon which the sky turned and which, symbolically, would have been viewed as holding up the sky-father Odin/Ygg.  Given that the Externsteine pillar was itself an earthly representation of the sky tree, we can understand there being other observation alignments to be found there.

THE EXTERNSTEINE BAS RELIEF: AN EASTER SKY PORTRAIT DEPICTING THE SUBSTITUTION OF THE CHRISTIAN CROSS FOR THE PAGAN IRMINSUL?

Although the “Descent from the Cross” relief at Externsteine has been variously dated, I believe there is some truth to the notion that the small, bent-over tree to the left of the Cross does indeed represent the pagan Irminsul.

It occurred to me to view the relief as a portrait of the sky on Easter.  Using my computer astronomy program (Cybersky), I entered the coordinates for Externsteine and then searched randomly for Easters from the 9th to the 12th centuries (for the relevant Easter dates according to the Julian calendar, see http://5ko.free.fr/en/easter.php?y=12).  One thing that immediately became obvious is that my hunch appears to be correct: the carving depicts the victory of Christianity over paganism in a very unique way.

When looking at the relief, notice that the dragon, symbolic of Satan here, is found just under the ground or horizon.  His head is to the right, his tail to the left, and his midst is coiled about Adam and Eve.  Above the dragon, and thus above the horizon in the sky, is the Cross.  To the right of the Cross, but down low, bent over in defeat, is the small tree.  The sun is to the extreme left, on the end of the arm of the Cross, while the moon is to the extreme right, on the other end of the Cross.  On the left arm of the Cross, towards the center, sits a man holding a banner, at the end of which is a star/planet that stands just to the right of the Cross’s upright, and over the middle part of the right arm of the Cross.

When we look at the full sky for, say, Easter dates in the 12th century, with ‘North’ at the bottom, we notice immediately that there are a significant number of such Easters on which Serpens Caput and Serpens Cauda, the head and tail of Serpens/the Serpent, are just below the horizon.  Rising up vertically in the sky and stretching from north to south, but bowed slightly to the west, is the Milky Way.  The ecliptic or path of the planets forms a cross-arm to the Milky Way, running in the usual east-west direction.  Down low and just to the right of the Milky Way, at almost exactly halfway between the horizon and the “right arm” of the Cross formed by the ecliptic, is Polaris, the Pole Star.

Although I have not bothered to run however many hundreds of Easter dates that might be necessary to find the right combination of heavenly elements to match the Externsteine relief, it is obvious that as Christ is being lowered from the Cross – something that happened in the evening, when the sun set - that the Sun on the extreme left hand side of the carving must be viewed as being on the western horizon.  The moon, therefore, is rising above the eastern horizon.  And what of the star or planet being held over the middle section of the Cross at the end of a banner?  This can only represent the INRI the Romans supposedly hung at the top of the Cross over Christ’s head (‘Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews’).  As the king planet has always been Jupiter, I assume that the planet designated on the carving must be Jupiter.  Venus as Evening Star is a less desirable candidate, but cannot be ruled out.

If I’m right about this – and the actual sky of the time fits the relief too well for this all to be mere coincidence – then the Christian Cross is being identified with the Milky Way.  And this Milky Way sky tree is being shown as having supplanted (pun intended) the earlier pagan sky tree, which was a true axis mundi that rose from the center of the earth (North Pole) and terminated in the sky at the north celestial pole or Pole Star.

THE “EOTEN” GRENDEL: FROM JUTISH GOVERNOR TO PLANETARY MYTH

Much ink has been spilt on the nature of Grendel, the chief monster of the Anglo-Saxon heroic epic poem, BEOWULF.  Although described vividly, the problem has always been coming up with a decent etymology for his name.  Scholars have also been frustrated by the fact that despite the infamy associated with this monster, no other sources – Danish or otherwise – see fit to so much as allude to him in passing.

The difficulty of assigning a meaning to the name Grendel was well laid out in the classic study BEOWULF: AN INTRODUCTION TO THE STUDY OF THE POEM, by R. W. Chambers, in 1921:

“The name has generally been derived from grindan, "to grind"; either directly, because Grendel grinds the bones of those he devours, or indirectly, in the sense of "tormentor." Others would connect with O.N. grindill, "storm," and perhaps with M.E. gryndel, "angry."

It has recently been proposed to connect the word with grund, "bottom": for Grendel lives in the mere-grund or grund-wong and his mother is the grund-wyrgin. Erik Rooth, who proposes this etymology, compares the Icelandic grandi, "a sandbank," and the common Low German dialect word grand, "coarse sand." This brings us back to the root "to grind," for grand, "sand" is simply the product of the grinding of the waves. Indeed the same explanation has been given of the word "ground."

However this may be, the new etymology differs from the old in giving Grendel a name derived, not from his grinding or tormenting others, but from his dwelling at the bottom of the lake or marsh. The name would have a parallel in the Modern English grindle, grundel, German grundel, a fish haunting the bottom of the water.

The Old English place-names, associating Grendel as they do with meres and swamps, seem rather to support this.

As to the Devonshire stream Grendel (now the Grindle or Greendale Brook), it has been suggested that this name is also connected with the root grand, "gravel," "sand." But, so far as I have been able to observe, there is no particular suggestion of sand or gravel about this modest little brook. If we follow the River Clyst from the point where the Grindle flows into it, through two miles of marshy land, to the estuary of the Exe, we shall there find plenty. But it is clear from the charter of 963 that the name was then, as now, restricted to the small brook. I cannot tell why the stream should bear the name, or what, if any, is the connection with the monster Grendel. We can only note that the name is again found attached to water, and, near the junction with the Clyst, to marshy ground.”

More recent scholarship on the question of an etymology for the name Grendel is found in Klaeber’s Beowulf, Fourth Edition, ed. R. D. Fulk, Robert E. Bjork, and John D. Niles:

“The following explanations of the name Grendel have been proposed: (1) The name is related to OE grindan ‘grind’, here ‘destroyer’… and to OE *grandor… ON grand, ‘evil’, ‘injury’. (2) The name is related to OE grindel ‘bar, bolt’, OHG grindel, krintil… (3) The name is related to ON grindell, a term in a thula for ‘storm’, grenja ‘to bellow’… (4) Formation by means of –ila (cf. strengel) from Lat. Grandis… (5) Grendel < *grandil-, from *grand ‘sand’, ‘bottom (ground) of a body of water’… (6) As a deformation of dialectical drindle or dringle, ‘trickle’, ‘small trickling stream’ or of *Drengel, ‘drowned’ or ‘drinker’… (7) Grendel and Grettir both derive from the root *grandi-.”

More profitable than the above exploration of the name is the ongoing debate on the relationship between the Anglo-Saxon words for giants and Jutes: eotenas.  Grendel is himself designated an eoten, and the eotenas play a key role in the Finnsburg fragment.  This last describes an early Dark Age battle in England between Danes and Frisians, the latter being accompanied by a Jutish force.  The Finnsburg battle and its aftermath is also told about in Beowulf.

In reality, the debate as to whether there are Jutes or giants present at Finnsburg is a moot one.  Why?  Because the tribal name ‘Jutes’ would have been associated in heroic legend with giants and, eventually, would have become indistinguishable from latter.  You start out as Jutes, you end up as giants.  And it may well be that the tribal name originally denoted a fierce race of unusually tall Northern people.  Simek, discussing the Old Norse cognate jotunn, says simply that

“As yet it has not been totally explained whether the word originally belonged to eta ‘eat’ (thus, ‘the big eater’) or to the tribal name of the Etiones.”

Here is the listing for eoten, extracted from the classical Anglo-Saxon dictionary by Bosworth and Toller:

EÓTEN

, es; m. I. a giant, monster, Grendel; gĭgas, monstrum, Grendel :-- Wæs se grimma gǽst Grendel, Caines cyn, -- ðanon untydras ealle onwócon, eótenas and ylfe and orcnéas, swylce gigantas Grendel was the grim guest, the race of Cain, -- whence unnatural births all sprang forth, monsters, elves, and spectres, also giants, Beo. Th. 204-226; B. 102-113. Eóten, nom. sing. Beo. Th. 1526; B. 761. Eótena, gen. pl. Beo. Th. 846; B. 421. II. Eotenas, gen. a; dat. um; pl. m. the Jutes, Jutlanders, the ancient inhabitants of Jutland in the north of Denmark; Jūtæ :-- Eótena treówe the faith of the Jutes, Beo.Th. 2148; 6. 1072: 2180; B. 1088: 2286; 3. 1141: 2294; B. 1145. [O. Nrs. jötunn, m.] v. ent, eten.

Now, as the Hall of Heorot is believed to have stood at Lejre in Sealand, not far east of the Jutland of the Jutes, might not Grendel himself have been a Jute?  The fact that eoten had the meaning of ‘giant’ may well have imparted much to his character, and a mere Jutish chieftain or warrior would then have been transformed in heroic legend to the status of a horrible devouring monster.

As this seems plausible enough to me, I would put forward as the historical prototype for Grendel an early 5th century governor of Jutland called Gervendil.  This man was father of the more famous Horwendillus of Saxo Grammaticus’s History of the Danes, ON Aurvandil, but Old English Earendel.  The Prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson has Thor toss the toe of Aurvandil up into the sky.  The evidence strongly suggests this toe is the Morning Star (Venus; see below).

As for Aurvandill, a derivation from a Proto-Germanic reconstructed compound *auzi-wandilaz "luminous wanderer" or from a Norse borrowing of Latin aureum, ‘gold’, do not have much credence.  Instead, we must again look to the Norse myth, which has Aurvandill carried across Elivager, the ‘stormy wave or sea’, thought to be (see Simek) the name for the proto-sea that surrounds the world.  As ON aurr, ‘wet clay, mud, wet soil’, has as its cognate in OE ear, ‘sea, ocean’, we might assume that at some point in the development of Norse aur carried the same meaning, which was later lost.  Thus Aurvandill may be simply the ‘Sea-wanderer’, i.e. the one who crosses Elivager.

Finally, I’ve shown elsewhere that aur as ‘clay’ is used poetically for the cloud that the Norns take from the sea and spread over the sky-tree.  As Thor is the thunderstorm god, and he carries Aurvandill, ‘Cloud-wanderer’ might also work, allowing for a possible poetic meaning of aur.

If a form like Aurvandil or [H]orwendillus can become Earendel in Old English, then Gerwendillus (also from Saxo), which in Old Norse would probably have been Gervandil or Gerrvandil, could by a very regular and rather simple process evolve into ‘Grendel’.  We first allow for the dropping of the v/w, and then either propose the dropping of the /e/ in Ger through elision or a metathesis of Ger- to Gre-, followed by the loss of the /e/ in –wendil[l].

However, the vowel in ger-, geir-, OE gar- is long and takes the principle stress. It does not seem to be a good candidate for metathesis,  in which case the Ger- of Gerwendillus is unlikely to be the word for 'spear'.  Instead, I would propose

ON gerr, 'greedy, gluttonous', found in Geri, 'the ravener' or 'greedy one', one of Odin's wolves. The name Geri can be traced back to the Proto-Germanic adjective *geraz, attested in Burgundian girs, Old Norse gerr and Old High German ger or giri, all of which mean "greedy".  Derived from *geraz is OESc giri, 'greed', Norw. dial. gir id., OS fehu-giri 'rapacity', OHG giri 'rapacity, greed'. The word does not appear in Old English.

I have confirmation of this last possibility from Jackson Crawford of the Department of Scandinavian Studies, University of Wisconsin-Madison:

“In Old Norse (the language in question which I can comment on with most authority), you can get *ger- > gr-, though the only cases I'm aware of are those which involve the old perfective prefix *ga-/ge-, like "granni" ("neighbor," cf. Gothic "garazna"). And for the loss of v in such a position, there is the common verb "gera"/"gøra" which in old poems rhymes as "gørva."

There is also the point that from an Old English standpoint, you may not necessarily have to go from *ger > gr to be cognate with Geri. No exact (pre-)OE cognate to the adjective "gerr," of which "Geri" is a formation (and to which OHG ger/giri, Modern German Gier/gierig are cognate), is attested, but that is not to say that it might not have existed, and that it might have metathesized (so have been something like *gre-).”

In either case, we end up quite naturally with Grendel, a Jute or ‘Giant’ who for 12 long years raided Hrothgar’s Hall of Heorot until he was slain in personal combat by Beowulf.

As for Grendel being made into a creature of the fen and mere, it is probable this is a reference to the many pools and extensive peat bogs of ancient Jutland, where hundreds of bodies, well-preserved by tannins, have been discovered in modern times.

Lastly, the placing of Grendel’s hand/arm/shoulder high up under the roof as a trophy suggests that Gerwendil, like his son Orwendil, was featured in a celestial myth. I’m here reading the roof as symbolic of the heavens, and the hand/arm/shoulder as being representative of a planetary body or, perhaps, a constellation.

There is little reason to doubt the identification of the Old English Earendel with the Morning Star.  For more on this, I would refer the reader to David Allen Swanson’s “The Old English Christ Poems and Anglo-Saxon Law”, to be found online here:

http://diginole.lib.fsu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=4940&context=etd

Earendel, in these Christ poems, is clearly substituted for Latin Oriens, ‘Morning Star’.  Of more recent interest is "Eala Earendel: Extraordinary Poetics in Old English" by Tiffany Beechy in Modern Philology 01/2010; 108(1):1-19.  A similar discussion of Earendel as the Morning Star can be found in her book THE POETICS OF OLD ENGLISH, Ashgate Publishing, Ltd., 2013.

Most authorities agree that the –wendil component of the father’s and son’s names comes from a Germanic root meaning ‘to wander’:

http://www.utexas.edu/cola/centers/lrc/ielex/U/P2144.html

Some have related such a meaning to our word planet, from the Greek word meaning ‘wanderer’.  The Greek word was adopted into the Latin language.  I would note that in the Old Norse myth, Thor carries Aurvandil in a basket.  Old English has windel, ‘basket’, from the Germanic root mentioned above.

We do know that Grendel, perhaps the 'ravenous wanderer', as described in “Beowulf”, is strictly a night creature.  He is never described as being abroad in the day, and all his devastating raids on Heorot occur after darkness has covered the land.  He himself is a ‘deorc death-scua’, a “dark death-shadow”.

As the Beowulf account has it, when the monster’s arm was ripped from his body,

‘Grendel was driven under the fen-banks, fatally hurt, to his desolate lair [beneath the mere].” (from Seamus Heaney’s translation)

As we shall see when investigating the nature of the dragon slain by Beowulf at the end of his life, each of the three monsters of the epic poem are lunar in nature.  The hero Beowulf is placed either in the 5th or 6th centuries or straddling the two.  When I checked NASA's Five Millenium solar eclipse catalog, there were no notable events for Lejre, Sealand, Denmark (scene of Heorot) or Ormror, Gotland (again, see the following chapter on the Beowulf dragon) throughout the 500s.  However, during the previous century, there were three total eclipses of major significance for the region.  The first had its central path right over Sealand, with its northern and southern paths nicely matching the northern and southern points of the island.  This occurred on April 16, 413 A.D., with the maximum eclipse happening at 2:53 p.m. The second eclipse covered the southern half of Gotland, including Ormror and Rone (the last being a site associated with Beowulf's funeral cairn).  This fell on December 23, 447, with the maximum eclipse happening at 3:15 p.m., about 5 minutes AFTER sunset (although the eclipse would certainly have been noticeable BEFORE sunset). The third eclipse of May 28, 458 passed over the northern tip of Sealand, but hit Gotland dead-center, with its northern and southern paths lining up with the northern and southern points of the island.  The time of maximum eclipse for this date was 1:18 p.m.

I found it remarkable that between the first eclipse and the third, 45 years elapsed.  In the Beowulf poem, we are told the hero became king some time after his slaying of Grendel and Grendel's mother, and that he reigned for 50 years before dying as a result of the wounds he sustained fighting the dragon.

While the poem's narrative presents the killing of Grendel's mother as something that occurred immediately - perhaps a single night after - the killing of Grendel, I would make a case for the interval between the first and second eclipses being compressed for the sake of dramatic effect.  Furthermore, the fact that the second eclipse only reached maximum AFTER both sun and moon dipped below the horizon mimics the story of Beowulf's diving into the mere and being pulled down to the bottom by Grendel's mother, where the actual combat took place.  Thus, Grendel - the New Moon, the invisible, dark moon, that moves over the land unseen - would have been "killed" by the solar hero (and later solar king) Beowulf in 413.  The monster's mother would then have been slain in 447, while the dragon (again see the next chapter) would perish at Beowulf's hands in 458.  All three eclipses took place within the life span of the hero of the poem.

Grendel's trophy arm/hand/claw may well be symbolic of the waxing lunar crescent, which becomes visible after a New Moon.  In other words, Beowulf "killed" the New Moon monster during the 413 eclipse, and by doing so made possible the reappearance of the waxing crescent.  Grendel's mother - the New Moon of 447 - reclaims the hand/arm/claw of her son when she visits Heorot, this act representing the disappearance of the waning lunar crescent that precedes the eclipse.  But Beowulf brings the head of Grendel back after slaying the monster's mother, and we can assume this means the moon has once again entered its first visible phase.

BEOWULF AND THE DRAGON I: A QUEST FOR TWO BARROWS

As long ago as 1985, archaeologist Gad Rausing published his paper “Beowulf, Ynglingatal and the Ynglinga Saga: Fiction or History?”.  In this study, he made a case for finding both the barrow of Beowulf and that of the hero’s enemy, the dragon, on the island of Gotland:

“Today, one of the southern parishes on Gotland is named Rone. Beowulf's "Hronesnes" has been taken to be derived from anglo-saxon "hron", whale. This word is not known from any other Germanic language. Although whaling is usually associated with the Atlantic, until recent times it played a very important part in the economy of south Scania, of Öland and of Gotland. The dolphins, (Phocaena phocaena, L.) who enter the Baltic in spring and leave in the autumn, were netted by the thousand. Their meat, fat, bone and hides were all utilized. The derivation of the name "Rone" is not known. It appears as "Ronum" and "Rone" in the fourteenth century (Karl Inge Sandred, pers. comm. 10.2.1984). It may be no more than a coincidence, there being no linguistic evidence either way: can possibly "Rone" be derived from "hron" as "the place where dolphins are caught?" It is suggestive that a hill on the next headland to the north, now called cape Nabbu, is called Arnkull, Eagle Hill.”

Rausing was correct when he states the AS hron, whale, is not found in other Germanic languages.  I confirmed this with Dr. Scott Mellor of the Department of Scandinavian Studies at the University of Wisconsin-Madison:

“There is no old Norse reflex of this word.  However, there are two probable Modern Scandinavian cognates etymologically related: Swedish harr and Norwegian harr.  Both are a type of salmonoid fish.  The origins of these words are obscure, which you may well know.  Hellqvist attributes the modern Swedish to a borrowing from Germanic harju(s), proto Germanic *harzu, and Lithuanian kirzlys (with the same meaning as modern Swedish) and Kérzsas with the meaning black and white spotted,  back to sanskrit krsna- meaning black (the computer I currently find myself on has only limited diacritics).  Though not certain, Old English is likely related to these words and has changed through metathesis from har* to hra* (like brid to bird), and hra* to hro* like stan to stone.”

Modern place-name scholars prefer to see in Rone the word (h)raun, “stone heap, stone foundation”(see Swedish place names lexicon. Uppsala : Institute for Language and Folklore, ed. Mats Wahlberg, 2003).  I've been in communication with Gotlandic place-name expert Professor Evert Melefors of the University of Uppsala.  His opinion on Rone is pretty much the same:

"One or two scholars have suggested an interpretation from 'hraun'. I have myself written a paper where a bunch of old gothl. parish names (very old from the time of the birth of Crist) containing the vowel o like in Boge, Sproge and Rone are involved. There is a problem when Rone on a medieval runestone is written ronum instead of the expected Raunum, so I am not fully convinced of the interpretation. It is hard to explain why these sounds differ! Nevertheless, from a matter of fact view it is a very good interpretation; there are a lot of stones and rocks along the coast and there is on old gothl. saying that 'the ice along the coast is 'rauning' when the ice blocks turn upon each other."*

Of course, there is no reason why a name that RESEMBLED hron could not have been, at some point, identified by the Anglo-Saxons in England with their own word.  This is a perfectly reasonable proposition.  Nor is there a problem with situating the Geats of the poem on an island bearing a name that records a form of this very tribal designation.  Nowhere else in Gotland or in the coastal regions of the Gotalands in Sweden – the other homeland of the Geats - do we find a name matching Hronesness that has a major barrow cairn.

And the importance of Rone lies in its great Bronze Age burial cairns.  The largest of them all – Uggarderojr, i.e. Uggarde Cairn – is given first or, perhaps, second place (behind the Baticke cairn in Anga parish) in terms of size for the entire island.  As sea level has changed significantly over the intervening centuries, it is known that at a certain stage in history Uggarderojr, now a fair distance inland, was once on the coast.  Archaeologists now believe it served a double purpose as both a burial cairn and a beacon for ships.  This last may be reflected in Beowulf’s dying wish that his barrow would

“be a reminder among my people –

so that in coming times crews under sail

will call it Beowulf’s Barrow, as they steer

ships across the wide and shrouded waters.”

[Lines 2805-2808, Seamus Heaney translation]

As for which of the various large cairns in Rone parish may be Beowulf’s barrow, I will return to that question in a bit.

And what of Rausing’s Arnkull or Eagle Hill?  It is now usually referred to as Ornkull or Ornkullen, and is a hill at the headland of Nyan next to Nabban in Nar parish.  This is some 20 kilometers NNE of Rone.  I’ve checked with the archaeology service of the Swedish National Heritage Board and there is, indeed, a stone setting and grave on the hill of either Bronze or Iron Age date.  The monument is not very significant, however, and certainly does not resemble the dragon’s barrow described in the Beowulf poem.  The full record of this site, as drawn from Riksantikvarieämbetet – Fornsök, reads as follows (translation from Swedish into English courtesy Johann Andersson of Riksantikvarieämbetet, FMIS/Fornsök):

"Stone circle (?), probably round, about 9 meter in diameter and 0,6 meter high. Covered filling, with in the surface occasional occurring 0,3-0,5 meter large granite stones. Some clearing stones is applied in the south. Probably a burial.

Terrain: Crest of a moraine height. A small islet in farmland. (The first part is about the surroundings, the second part is about where the burial is placed on.

Tradition: A treasure is said to be buried in Örnkullen, E. Oxenstierna, 1939." (Eric Oxienstierna was an Swedish archaeologist who mainly researched about Swedish Iron age and the Germanic tribes. I can´t tell where he have got the source for this tradition).”

To be honest, I have always had difficulty with accepting the AS place-name Earnaness, the "Eagle's Ness", where the dragon lived in its barrow before he slain by Beowulf.  Here's my problem with the name: it is given only once, and only at the end of the dragon battle, when the hero is dead, having slain the monster.  Needless to say, there is no 'eagle' in the story.  As given, Earnaness would appear to be a name bestowed on the headland precisely because it had been the home of the dragon, and the place where the king had slain the beast.

Let us suppose the original name utilized a Norse Orm, ‘serpentine dragon, snake,’ instead.  It would take but one mistake in transmission somewhere along the line for the m to be miscopied n.  The resulting orn is, in fact, Old Norse 'eagle'.  Orm may not even have been recognizable to the Anglo-Saxons in England, whose word for this creature was the cognate wyrm.  So I would guess that the reason no one is satisfied with Arnkull – myself included -  is because Earnaness should instead be Ormanes, the Orm's Headland (cf. ON ormaboeli, ormagardr, ormabedr).

If I’m right here, we must abandon Rausing’s Arnkull and look elsewhere for the Ormanes.

There are three or four dozen 'Orm-' place-names on Gotland. The majority of these contain the common male personal name Orm.  We are looking for an Orm- barrow mound or cairn and a ness, or at least such a cairn where there may have been a ness when the sea level was higher as well as, preferably, a ness name still extant in the vicinity.  Although various cairns on the island are associated in modern folklore with orms, as one might expect, there is only one that actually bears a name like that which we are searching for: Ormror (or Armror or Arm-rair) just north of Drakarve in Nas parish.  Nas is the Swedish form of Old Norse nes, 'nose', a promontory or headland and the cognate of the Anglo-Saxon ness.  Ormror is listed in the archaeological database as being in Havdhem parish, although the place-name database shows some confusion, possibly due to shifting parish boundaries.  Ormror is there shown to be in Nas parish, and is listed as 'missing' from Havdhem.  In reality, Ormror is about 3.75 kilometers north of Nas, and 5.25 kilometers southwest of Havdhem.

And, indeed, I've had this parish change confirmed by Hanna Larsson of Riksantikvarieämbetet, FMIS/Fornsök:

"There used to be a parish Näs on southern Gotland. Today it no longer exists as a parish, it has been taken up into the parish of Havdhem. In Fornsök you can still find it as a geographical unit, because the archaeological data of National Heritage Board is divided into the parish units that existed in the 1970ies, with a few exceptions."

According to Kristina Neumuller of Forskningsarkivarie, Drakarve preserves the Swedish byname Drake or Draki, ‘Dragon’, known from the Middle Ages, plus the ending -arve meaning 'inheritance, hereditary estate'. Ormror, a very interesting ancient site, is literally Orm Cairn (ror, with an umlaut over the o, is a variant form of rojr, found appended to many cairns on the island), and is under 15 kilometers SW of Rone and only some 2 kilometers from the coast.  For the sake of comparison, Uggarde is approximately one and a half to two kilometers from the coast, depending on direction.

Here is the full description of Ormror from Riksantikvarieämbetet – Fornsök, again kindly translated from the Swedish by Johan Andersson:

"1) Grave field, in a area of 70x40 meter (East-West) with 8 ancient burial monuments. These are 1 cairn and 7 round or next to round stone circles. The cairn, in the eastern part of the grave field, is 22 meter in diameter and 1 meter high. The stones is 0,1-0,5 meter big. In the SSW part of the cairn is a residue of a kerb, 0,2-0,4 meter high, of 0,6-0,7 meter large stones. Otherwise is a partly visible smaller kerb, 0,1-0,2 meter high, of 0,3-0,7 meter large stones. Outside of this kerb is a stone-brim, 3-4 meter wide and 0,2-0,3 m high, of 0,15-0,3 meter big stones - largely covered with sod. The cairn is vigorously stirred and the SSW part is dismounted down to the bottom. The eastern part of the cairn is partly covered by the burnt mound (Havdhem 38:2). The round or the next round stone circles is 4-7 meter in diameter (six of them is 4-5 meter in diameter) and 0,1-0,3 meter high. All of the stone circles are covered with sod and have in the surface numerous visible stones, 0,1-0,5 meter big. One stone circle has a kerb, 0,1 meter high, of 0,2-0,5  eter large stones. Three stone circles has a pit in the centre part, 1-2 meter in diameter and 0,1-0,2 meter deep. Mostly of the stone circles are vigorously stirred and are hard to delineate. The grave field is vegetated with pines and junipers. Next to and in the eastern part of the grave field is 2) Burnt mound, next to round, 11 meter in diameter and 1,5 meter high. Covered with sod and have in the surface numerous visible cracked stones. In the centre is a pit, 3x2 meter (east north east-west south west) and 0,3 meter deep. The burnt mound is partly covering the cairn in the grave field. Vegetated with 3 pines and 5 small junipers.

Terrain: Flat gravel and limestone soil. Coniferous forest.

Comment of an antiquarian: The cairn is named Ormrör."

So all of this looks very promising.  But it is?  Alas, no.  The name Ormror is modern.

Professor Evert Melefors of the Department of Scandinavian Languages at the University of Uppsala reminds me that the name Ormror may be fairly recent, and is due to real snakes - perhaps common European adders - hibernating in the Ormror mound:

"Translation into English of P.A. Säve´s Tale nr 616 in R 623:4 UUB (Uppsala Univerity Library):

616. Årm-råir (Orm-rör) [Snake-cairn]

On the border to Havdhem [parish] i the forest belonging to Gann [a farm in Näs] in Näs there is a stone cairn that now (1871) is called Arm-råir [i.e. Årm-råir] and consisting of grey-stone: because, when people on the 2-nd of January 1815 excavated the cairn (treasure-hunting?) unto the depth of one eln (6 decimeter), they found amongst burned clay and bones 19 snakes that moved very little because of the cold. [Informant: the farmer] P. P[erso]n Källder, born 1794."

We are once again at a loss, it would seem, to find the dragon's barrow! Or, at least, we are forced to return to ancient Gotlandic traditions in our quest for the site.

According to Guta Saga:

"Gotland was first discovered by a man called Thielvar. At this time Gotland was bewitched so that it sank by day and [only] surfaced at night. But that man brought fire to the land for the first time, and after that it never sank.

This Thielvar had a son called Hafthi. And Hafthi's wife was called Whitestar. Those two were the first to settle on Gotland. The first night they slept together she dreamt that three snakes [ormar] were coiled in her lap. And it seemed to her that they slid out of her lap. She told this dream to her husband Hafthi. He interpreted it thus:

"All is bound with bangles,

it will be inhabited, this land,

and we shall have three sons."

While still unborn, he gave them all names:

"Gute will own Gotland,

Graip will be the second,

and Gunnfjaun third."

These later divided Gotland into three parts, so that Graip the eldest got the northern third, Guti the middle third, and Gunfjaun the youngest had the south."

The significant passage here concerns the sons of Hafthi (or Havde), who are symbolically represented AS SERPENTS.

From  “Guta Saga: The History of the Gotlanders” (ed. Christine Peel, VIKING SOCIETY FOR NORTHERN RESEARCH, 1999):

“Dreams about snakes

The dream that Huitastierna has on her wedding night, of the three snakes issuing from her womb or breast, has folklore parallels. The

motif of pregnant women dreaming of events connected with the birth of their children is very commonplace. There is, for example, a tale concerning William the Conqueror’s mother who is said tohave dreamed that a great tree grew from her womb. Equally, dreams concerning snakes are not unusual and the combination of the two motifs (with the snakes proceeding from some part of a woman’s anatomy) is also encountered. Henning Feilberg (1886– 1914, IV, 316, s. v. orm) mentions a motif concerning a snake growing out of a young girl’s back and coiling itself around her neck. Snakes also figure largely in Celtic myth in various guises: as protectors, as fertility symbols and in connection with the underworld and death. The snake motif is common on Gotlandic picture-stones and one

in particular, from Smiss in Gotland, is of interest; see Note to 2/8. It is therefore possible that a literary or oral motif concerning a pregnant woman’s dream has been combined with snake iconography to give this version of the tradition. What the true source is for the dream-sequence it is probably not possible to know: it could have been a folk-tale applied in a particular case or it could have been a specific story associated with the island’s settlement, perhaps linked to some native or foreign mythological element. It could even have been an invented story based on the seeds of an idea sown by some artefact similar to the disc found in a woman’s grave at Ihre, Gotland; cf. Note to 2/8.”

According to archaeologist Per Widerstrom with the Gotland Museum,

“Tjelvavrs grave is best known and is a ship setting in Boge parish. There is a parish on the southern island called Havdhem, maybe after Havde. No grave that I know of.

Gute is a farm in Bäl parish, a bit northeast from Visby. No grave that Im aware of.

Theres also Graips house (RAÄ Garde 16:1,2 or 3, I don’t remember which one) in Garda parish, and his grave nearby (RAÄ Garde 1:1).

There’s an old ruined chapel in Ardre parish that’s called Gunnfjauns chapel (RAÄ Ardre 35:1). Its still in use sometimes and there used to be a trading/market site nearby during the medieval period.”

The most important reference here is to Graip’s grave at Garde 1:1.  This is the massive Digerrojr cairn (35 meters in diameter and 4-5 meters high), also called Graipershög or ‘Graip’s Howe’.  This is another cairn that would have been on the coast before the sea-level fell and it has fascinating traditions associated with it, as is made plain in the account from the Riksantikvarieämbetet database.  One of these traditions concerns a precious cup or beaker (Swedish dyrbar bagare) belonging to the trolls of Digerrojr, which sounds suspiciously like the goblet removed from the Beowulf barrow.

In my opinion, the great cairn of Graip the Serpent, with its precious beaker, is the folk remnant of the dragon barrow of Beowulf.

As for the actual barrow of Beowulf himself in Rone parish, I do not think this is the famous Uggarderojr cairn.  Why?  Well, according to the Beowulf poem, after Beowulf's barrow had been raised about his cremated remains,

"Then twelve warriors rode around the tomb,

chieftain's sons, champions in battle,

all of them distraught, chanting in dirges,

mourning his loss as a man and a king..."

Now this story reminded me of a common folklore motif in which men or women or witches who are dancing or piping in a circle, often on the Sabbat, are turned to stone.  As ancient barrows on Gotland are often associated with other megalithic monuments - like stone ships or CIRCLES - could it be that a major burial mound in Rone parish was surrounded by or very close to a stone circle of EXACTLY twelve stones?

Well, this seemed too much to hope for, but I went looking, anyway. And, sure enough, I found what I was searching for: right next to the very large earth-covered cairn a short distance to the SE of the major Lejsturjor cairn there is a stone circle composed of twelve stones.

For a drawing of this circle, see the following link:

http://www.fmis.raa.se/cocoon/fornsok/scanned_ref.pdf?label=Rone+72%3A3&url=09%2F0980%2F959%2Fdokument%2F959-0068-0072-02-D.jpg

But what is better, the circle itself surrounds a barrow.  In the words of Johan Andersson, Information on archaeological sites and monuments (Riksantikvarieämbetet, FMIS/Fornsök):

"According to the sketch that was done at the same time when this site was recorded in 1978, there are seven stones in the western part of the stone circle that were artificially placed. The five larger "naturally" situated stones are to the east.  One of these is a large stone, flanked by two stones to either side, making for a total of five.  The stone circle surrounds a burial mound in the center. "

The proximity of this stone circle-surrounded grave to the ancient farm of Anggarde is significant.  Why?  From http://www.segotland.se/servlet/GetDoc?meta_id=1099&file_id=6:

“153. Lejsturojr

Numerous remains from the Bronze and Iron Ages can be seen in the beautiful, grazed meadowlands and pastures at Änggårde near Ronehamn. The earliest monuments are the two impressive cairns from the Bronze Age, one of which is covered with soil. Traces of at least two farms from about the Birth of Christ, with house foundations, prehistoric fields and remains of stone walling, can be seen beside the cairns.

Approaching the largest cairn, Lejsturojr, halfway in the meadow, feels almost supernatural. The huge cairn seems to be guarding a secret, and it is with great awe that you venture to draw near. Two sturdy standing-stones south of the cairn attract particular attention. We do now know their function, but since they are standing south of the cairn, we presume that they might have been connected with sun worship.

The actual cairn, like so many others, has a deep crater in the centre. The crater may be the result of the collapse of some construction, such as a tower or wall inside the cairn. However, the crater may have been deliberately incorporated in the cairn construction, quite simply to save stones. Several people have often been buried in cairns, over a long period of time. Few cairns have actually been excavated, however. There is another cairn further on in the pastureland, although this one has been covered with soil. Soil or peat-covered mounds are rare on Gotland, although they are common in Scania and Denmark. Since air, which destroys all organic material, cannot gain access to soil-covered mounds, their graves tend to be much better-preserved than graves in stone cairns.

There were two farmsteads here during the Iron Age, up to the 6th century A.D. There are five house foundations at the front end of the field, and beside these you can see remains of stone walling, which once enclosed the fields and meadows. A nature and culture trail will lead you through the grounds, passing all the prehistoric remains. By road from Visby: Drive along road 142 to Hemse. Turn off towards Ronehamn and then along a minor road signposted to Lejsturojr.”

As Beowulf was of the 5th century A.D., this farm may well have been his primary residence.  The Lejsturojr cairn is Bronze Age and 40 meters in diameter and 4 meters high, while the earth-covered cairn by the stone circle burial is 47 meters in diameter and 2 meters high.  The last is dated to both the Bronze Age AND the Iron Age.  The actual stone circle surrounded grave, numbered Rone 72:3 in the Swedish National Heritage Board's database, is also considered to be of Bronze Age and/or Iron Age date.

Anggarde is approximately 20 kilometers SSW of Digerrojr/Graipershög.

* Professor Melefors was kind enough to also forward me information on the other place-names I've discussed above:

"The majority of Gotlandic farmstead names are medieval (from the 13th century); very few can be dated back to the Viking age. About 50% contains personal names, but that is not the case with the ones you are asking about. Äng-garde means the farm-stead ('gård' = farm) situated in or built in a meadow ('äng' = meadow), Lejstu is the name of an deserted farm originally called Lei(l)-stuga, meaning 'the little cottage'. Uggarde is the farm situated in the outskirts of the parish Rone, derived from *U(t)-gard, Out-gard, the farm that is situated out 'ut' from the center. Later the form *Ut-garde is pronounced, by assimilation, Ug-garde."

BEOWULF AND THE DRAGON II: ANCIENT CULT AND HERO’S DEATH

In “The Hill of the Dragon: Anglo-Saxon Burial Mounds in Literature and Archaeology”, H.R. Ellis Davidson makes her case for the fiery dragon of the barrow being a symbol for the cremation blaze that consumed the dead.  While she makes a good case, and her argument is compelling, there are some obvious problems in her chain of reasoning.

For one, the sources make it plain that the dragon is not itself the fire that it breathes.  Second, these dragons are aerial beings.  A comparison of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle MSS. seems to suggest they are storm-cloud monsters whose movements generated the wind:

Anglo-Saxon Chronicle Laud (E) and Parker Chronicle (A):

ormete ligræscas, 7 wæron geseowene fyrene dracan on þam lyfte fleogende.

immense flashes of lightning , and fiery dragons were seen flying in the air.

Worcester Chronicle (D) variant:

excessively high winds and flashes of lightning

Modern folklore in Gotland often identified a dragon with an eldklot or fireball, i.e. a meteor or, presumably, a comet.  From Professor Ulf Palmenfelt, Institutionen för humaniora och samhällsvetenskap, Etnologi, Gotland University:

"There are quite a few folk legends collected by Per Arvid Säve about dragons and snakes on Gotland. There are no sharp limits between the different legend categories, but mostly the snake stories emphasize how scary these beings were and how difficult they were to get rid of. The dragon legends are typically associated with buried treasures. According to popular belief, you were supposed to bury a live animal together with your treasure. The animal would then be transformed into a magic guard in the shape of a dragon. These treasure dragons were said to move the hidden treasures from one place to another, and at such times they could be observed as fireballs moving over the night sky."

Finally, we must take into account the Viking dragon-ships that were burned during ship-funerals, and the ancient stone ship-settings found all over Scandinavia. Thus there are a number of characteristics of dragons that point to their being something other than the cremation blaze.

Let us take a closer look at the nocturnal habit of the Beowulf dragon.  We are told quite specifically:

“So the guardian of the mound,

the hoard-watcher, waited for the gloaming

with fierce impatience…

…Then, to his delight,

the day waned and he could wait no longer

behind the wall, but hurtled forth

in a fiery blaze…

…Then back to the hoard

he would dart before daybreak, to hide in his

den.”

[Lines 2302-2320, Seamus Heaney translation]

As with Grendel, we are dealing with a monster that is active and most powerful only at night.  In my mind’s eye, I saw the crescent moon – not only in the form of a boat, i.e. a Viking ship, but in that of a serpent that like the moon could shed its skin, forever becoming new again.

The Norse dragon Nidhoggr from the Eddas carries dead men across the sky.  To quote from Voluspa 62 (Ursula Dronke’s translation):

There comes the shadowy

Dragon flying,

Glittering serpent, up

From Dark of the Moon Hills [Nidafiollom].

He carries in his pinions

- he flies over the field –

Malice Striker [Nidhoggr], corpses.

The name Nidhoggr is usually rendered something like the above, deriving Nid- from ON nid, contumely, derision, libel, insult, cf. nida, to libel, lampoon, nidingr, villain, scoundrel, vile wretch, nidstong, pole of insult.  However, there is also nidr, ‘down’ and, significantly, nid, THE WANING MOON, TIME BEFORE NEW MOON.  In keeping with the symbolism of a glittering dragon flying up into the sky from the waning moon hills, I would opt for ‘Waning Moon Striker’ as the real name of this monster.

The Viking ship of the dead was called Naglfar.  Simek (in his Dictionary of Northern Mythology) explains how the name betrays folk etymology, as "Nail-ship" should be "Dead/Corpse-ship".  However, the tradition records that the ship is made of the unshorn nails of the dead.  I would only mention that the white portion of fingernail, which we commonly keep trimmed off, forms a white crescent.  Such a color and shape may have reminded people of the crescent moon and as the death-ship symbolized this heavenly body, the name "Nail-ship" may be an intentional poetic metaphor.  Or such an observation could have contributed to the folk etymology from an earlier meaning "Corpse-ship".

The ship of the gods is called Skidbladnir, literally ‘Wood-Leaf’, and it belongs to Freyr in most sources, but to Odin in YNGLINGA SAGA.  Among its magical properties it has this: “when not at sea, it is constructed so skillfully and of so many parts that it can be folded up like a cloth and put in a pouch.”  A lunar boat conforms nicely to this description, as it “folds” up when going from waning crescent to New and becomes invisible – presumably being stored then in the said pouch. When unfolded, it appears as the waxing crescent.

Draugs – revenants inhabiting barrow mounds – are often told about in the Norse sagas.  The most famous draug is Glam of Grettir’s Saga, whose name is literally a poetic word for the moon.  At least in the Norse sources, then, the dead man in the barrow, guarding his grave-goods, became identified with the moon. The sagas record instances of men like Fafnir who, after death, transform into dragons in their barrows (see H.R. Ellis Davidson, “Gods and Myths of Northern Europe”, p. 161).  It may be significant that in Norse belief the moon is male, while the sun is female.

Beowulf, then, slays the lunar dragon that guards its golden sun-hoard within the earth-barrow. Likewise Sigurd the Dragon-slayer slays the dragon Fafnir, who was sitting on his solar gold inside the barrow on Gnita Heath. That the dragon breathed fire appears to be a later development.  Initially, the lunar dragon or ship, bearing dead men, would have been visualized as coming down from the sky, passing through the fiery cloud – itself symbolic of the cremation blaze – before it could set into the earth.  The sun, too, made this dangerous passage of the flaming cloud (clouds during sunset or sunrise can appear as if aflame), and the many stories recounted in the Norse sources of heroes, heroines and gods wading through fire, smoke and water before they can enter a barrow or the underworld represents the same passage through watery, fiery cloud.  In all likelihood the Norse underworld river Slidr in Voluspa 36, said to be full of knives and swords, is actually full of lightning-weapons.  We are often told streams "burst" forth from barrows and some of these may also be symbolic of the "cloud-river" one has to wade in order to enter the underworld.

But why kill the moon monster at all?  Unless it were considered inherently malicious and dangerous?

The answer to this question could lie in a unique phenomenon experienced only in the far North: the major lunar standstill.  To quote from Dr. Judy Young, Department of Astronomy, University of Massachusetts, Amherst (personal correspondence):

“The Moon could be said to "die" if one observed from high latitudes in a Major Standstill year.  Then, the full Moon of summer might not be visible (above latitude 61 degrees, i.e. Orkney), but it would be visible a few days before full (and then reappear a few days later).

Even at latitude +57 degrees, the Moon could 'disappear' if there are sufficient hills on the horizon. At Callanish, lat=58, the Moon is only 3 degrees above the horizon when full near summer solstice in a Major Standstill year. So big enough hills could hide that.  But not if one is looking over the ocean...”

Rone, Gotland, the location of both Beowulf's barrow and that of the dragon (see Part 1 of this essay), is a bit above the 57th line of latitude. However, a major lunar standstill does not take into account Beowulf’s presence during the slaying of the dragon.  Furthermore, we could not account for so many other dragon stories set in much lower latitudes!

The solution to the problem is to rely on good old-fashioned solar mythology – specifically, the kinds of stories that arise from the occurrence of a total solar eclipse.

Running dates from NASA’s Five Millenium Catalog of Solar Eclipses, and restricting myself to the generally agreed upon floruit of Beowulf being 5th or 6th century, I found a total solar eclipse whose central path crossed Gotland on May 28, 458 A.D.  The northern and southern path limits of the eclipse covered exactly all of Gotland from its northernmost extremity to its southernmost.

For a map showing the eclipse, go here:

http://eclipse.gsfc.nasa.gov/SEsearch/SEsearchmap.php?Ecl=04580528

See also the following diagram of the eclipse:

http://eclipse.gsfc.nasa.gov/5MCSEmap/0401-0500/458-05-28.gif:

This would have been a major event for the Iron Age inhabitants of the island.  Not only is the eclipse total, with its central path crossing the midpoint of Gotland, but the eclispe was at maximum at 1:18 p.m., so the whole event played out around noon.   Beowulf as a solar hero vanquishes the lunar dragon, but himself succumbs during the struggle.

NOTE ON THE SMISS STONE

"The Snake-witch (Ormhäxan), Snake-charmer (Ormtjuserskan) or Smiss stone (Smisstenen) is a picture stone found at Smiss, När parish, Gotland, Sweden. Discovered in a cemetery, it measures 82 cm (32 in) in height and depicts a figure holding a snake in each hand. Above the figure there are three interlaced creatures (forming a triskelion pattern) that have been identified as a boar, an eagle, and a wolf.] The stone has been dated to 400–600 AD." [Description from Wikipedia]

To confirm the date, I contacted the chief archaeologist of the Gotland Historical Museum, Per Widerstrom.  His response:

"That stone is in the shape of the stones from appx 200- 600 AD. And in that span it is believed to belong to the later part, the 5th or 6th centuries."

This is, of course, the floruit of Beowulf.

As the triskelion or triskele is often a solar symbol, the goddess on the lower register of this stone, holding two snakes, is probably a moon deity.  The reader will observe that the primary bend of the snake on the left conforms to a waxing crescent moon, while the main bend of the serpent on the right bears the shape of the waning crescent.  The goddess herself, or more likely her head, would be symbolic of the full moon.  While some theories have attempted to connect her with Celtic Cernunnos figures sitting in the 'yogi' posture, this figure is plainly either in a birthing position or a receptive sexual one.

In my opinion, this figure is "evidence" of the worship of a pre-Viking era lunar snake goddess on Gotland.

THE FOREVER WAR OF THE AESIR AND VANIR: SLAYING AND BEING SLAIN FOR THE GODDESS

1. The War Over the Goddess

While Snorri Sturluson in both his Prose or Younger Edda and the Ynglinga Saga of Heimskringla tells stories about the aftermath of the war (specifically the peace treaty involving the exchange of hostages) of the two tribes of Norse gods, the war itself is recounted only in some cryptic verses in the Voluspa poem of the Poetic or Elder Edda.

Although not discussed in the context of the War of the Aesir and Vanir, strophe 8 of Voluspa contains our first major clue when looking for a cause of the war:

They played chequers in the meadow,

They were merry –

For them there was no

Want of gold –

Until there came three

Ogres’ daughters,

Of redoubtable strength.

From Giant Realms.

(translation Ursular Dronke)

These three are, of course, the Norns.  With their “arrival” in the world, time begins, the passage of the seasons, the differentiation of life and experience into past, present and future.  Skipping, then, to strophe 20, we learn more about these three daughters of giants:

From there come maidens

Deep in knowledge,

Three, from the lake

That lies under the tree.

Urdr they called one, ‘Had to be’,

The second Verdandi, ‘Coming to be’,

- they incised the slip of wood –

Skuld the third, ‘Has to be’. [Skuld is said in Voluspa 30 to be a valkyrie.]

They laid down laws,

They chose out lives

For mankind’s children,

Men’s destinies.

The poem continues (strophes 21-26):

She remembers the war,

The first in the world,

When Gold Brew [or Gold Strength]

They studded with spears

And burned her

In Harr’s [Odin’s] hall,

Three times burned her

Three times reborn

- often, not stinting –

yet still she lives.

Bright Heidr they called her

At all the houses she came to,

A good seer of fair fortunes

- she conjured spirits who told her.

Sorcery [seid] she had skill in,

Sorcery she practiced, possessed.

She was ever the darling

Of an evil wife.

The the powers all strode

To their thrones of fate,

Sacrosanct gods,

And gave thought to this:

Whether the Aesir should

Pay such a price

And all the gods

Get recognition [were obliged to pay the price in Orchard; or whether all the gods should partake in the sacrifices in Larrington].

Odin flung

And shot into the host –

I was war still, the first in the world.

Torn was the timber wall

Of the Aesir’s stronghold.

Vanir were – by a war charm –

Live and kicking on the plain.

Then the powers strode

To their thrones of fate,

Sacrosanct gods,

And gave thought to this:

Who had laced all

The air with ruin

And to the giant’s kin

Wedded Odr’s girl?

Thor alone smote there

Swollen with wrath

- he seldom sits idle

when he hears such a thing!

Oaths paid for oaths,

The vows and sworn pledges,

All the words of weight

That intervened.

Now, scholars have elucidated some of the points in this obscure narrative.  First, the view was long ago put forward that Gullveig and Heidr are both merely epithets for the goddess Freyja – Odr’s girl in the second to the last stanza.  I completely agree with this idea.  Odr (“Frenzy” or “Ecstasy”) is a hypostasis of Odin.  Freyja was called the Vanadis, ‘Goddess of the Vanir’, and she was allotted half the dead who fell in battle, meaning that she served both war goddess/valkyrie and fertility functions.  She was also the main practitioner of the magic known as seid, which was the art practiced by Heidr.

Snorri has precious little on the war, and what he has is found in Chapter 4 of Ynglinga Saga:

“Odin made war on the Vanir, but they resisted stoutly and defended their land; now the one, now the other was victorious, and both devastated the lands of their opponents, doing each other damage. But when both wearied of that, they agreed on a peace meeting and concluded a peace, giving each other hostages.”

[Lee M. Hollander translation, 1964]

It has been suggested that Snorri’s story of the Master Builder from Giant Land should be associated with the War.  Here is that story, drawn from the translation by Jean I Young:

“In the early days of the settlement of the gods, when they had established Midgard and made Valhalla, a builder came to them and offered to make a stronghold so excellent that it would be safe and secure against cliff giants and frost ogres, even if they got inside Midgard.

He stipulated that as his reward he was to have Freyja as his wife and possession of the sun and moon besides.

The Æsir had a conference, and they struck this bargain with the builder. He should receive what he asked for, if he succeeded in building the stronghold in one winter. But if, on the first day of summer, any part of it was unfinished, he was to forfeit his reward; nor was he to receive anyone's help in the work.

When they told him these terms, however, he asked them to let him have the help of his horse, which was called Svadilfari, and acting on the advice of Loki, the gods granted this to him.

He began building the stronghold the first day of winter, and by night used his horse for hauling the stones for it. The Æsir were astonished at the size of the huge boulders the horse hauled. It performed twice as much of that tremendous task as the builder.

Now there were strong witnesses to their bargain. It had been confirmed with many oaths, because the giant had not considered it safe to be among the Æsir without promise of safe-conduct, if Thor should come home. At that time he had gone into the east to fight trolls.

As winter drew to an end, the building of the stronghold had made good progress. It was so high and strong that it could not be taken. By three days before summer the work was almost finished.

The gods then sat down in their judgment seats and sought for a way out. They recalled that it had been Loki who had given the advice to marry Freyja into Giantland and also to ruin the sky and heaven by giving the sun and moon to the giants. They threatened him with an evil death if he did not devise a plan whereby the builder would forfeit his wages. Loki swore that he would do this, no matter what it might cost him.

That same evening, when the builder was driving out after stones with his stallion Svadilfari, a mare ran out of a wood up to the horse and whinnied to him. The stallion became frantic and ran into the wood after the mare. The two these horses galloped about all night, and the work was delayed.

The next day, when the builder saw that the work would not be finished, he flew into a rage. As soon as the Æsir saw for certain that it was a giant who had come there, they disregarded their oaths and called on Thor.

He came at once and raised the hammer Mjölnir aloft. Thor paid the builder his wages, and it was not the sun and the moon. He struck him such a blow that his skull shivered into fragments, and he sent him down to Niflhel.”

To backtrack a bit, the Norns are indisputably of a lunar nature.  The ancient Germanic calendar was a lunar one, and time further divided into nights, not days.  Although Norse myth lists the moon (Mani) as being male and the sun (Sol) as being female, there is ample evidence for a moon goddess and a sun god.  I have discussed such before in other chapters in this book.

Thus when we think of the triple burning of Gullvieg, we must first bear in mind that as a Norn she could appear in triple aspect.  We must also remind ourselves of the obvious fact that things look black after they are burned.  The burned Gullveig is, therefore, the invisible or black New Moon, which is reborn as the waxing crescent.  In the story of the mead of poetry, I explained how the drinking of the mead from the three lunar vats symbolized the removal of the sun’s light, an act which produces a New Moon.

As is true of the mead story and that of Idunn’s abduction by Thjatsi the giant, the promising of Freyja to the giant builder is a seasonal myth.  The giant begins his task of building the fortress in exchange for Freyja and the sun and the moon at the beginning of winter.  If he can accomplish this feat before the beginning of summer, the gods will be forced to live up to their pledge.  The stallion chasing the mare (the shape-shifted Loki) day and night doubtless represents the very sun and moon the giant had initially bargained for.  When the building does not get done, the enemy of the gods is slain on the first day of summer.

Now the difficulty here is determining just why this story should be related to Voluspa’s War of the Aesir and Vanir. While there is conflict between the Giant Builder and Thor (one of the Aesir), and Freyja is a key player, the Vanir themselves do not seem to be present at all as warriors in a battle.

In the past, it has been fashionable to define the Aesir and the Vanir in terms of two opposing theories.  In the first, proposed in the early 20th century, Bernhard Salin suggested that the War

“…contains in corrupted form the memory of great, historical, authentic events: a long migration of a people according to a precise itinerary from north of the Black Sea to Scandinavia, and a struggle between two peoples, one worshipping the Aesir and the other the Vanir.  This struggle, according to the tradition that transposed men into gods or rather confused gods with their worshippers, ended in a compromise, a fusion. “

[“Gods of the Ancient Northmen”, Georges Dumezil, p. 11]

The alternate theory, championed by Dumezil himself, has to do with the so-called tripartite mythological model.  The Aesir, according to this interpretive system, represent both the magico-juridical and warrior functions, while the Vanir belong to the fertility function.

While both theories may contribute elements that help explain the War of the Aesir and Vanir from a modern academic perspective, there is no evidence whatsoever that the ancient Norse viewed this myth in the same way.  Instead, to them it was plainly about the ‘Everlasting Battle’ of the opposing seasonal aspects of the participating deities.

Still, something is missing.  Just where is the actual conflict with the Vanir?  Why does Odin dedicate the Vanir host by throwing his spear over them?  Why are the latter said to breach the Aesir fortress?

Clearly, the war happened BEFORE the events of the Giant Builder story. The Aesir tried and failed to kill Freyja, who as the three giant women or Norns had ruined the paradisiac Timeless existence the gods had earlier enjoyed.  If they could kill her, then they could bring back that earlier Golden Age and put an end to aging and disease and death.  Having failed in their attempt, they merely incensed the Vanir, of whom Freyja was queen.  The war was fought as the first bout of the Everlasting Battle, with neither side winning permanent victory.  So peace was made and the two tribes of the gods were reconciled.  The world would remain one with Time, and the seasons would continue in their endless round.

At some point after this, the sun god of the winter half-year in the guise of the Giant Builder demands Freyja, sun and moon as payment for his building of a mighty Asgard fortress. This myth is simply a continuation of the same eternal competition between the lords of the summer and winter-half years.

Were it not for the mead story, which presents a sort of mirror image of the seasonal myth, we could pretty much diagram out the motif as follows:

Aesir (summer)        Giants (winter)

Three myths I’ve treated of in this book can further be diagrammed this way:

BEGINNING OF WINTER

Giant Builder starts building

BEGINNING OF SUMMER

Giant Builder killed

BEGINNING OF WINTER

Idunn abducted, sun-apples stolen

BEGINNING OF SUMMER

Thjatsi the Giant killed

BEGINNING OF WINTER

Volund loses Hervor, sun-ring, is                              killed/lamed

BEGINNING OF SUMMER

Volund regains goddess and ring and flies up into the sky

The mead story is a reversal of the standard theme:

BEGINNING OF WINTER

Odin sleeps with goddess and steals the mead

BEGINNING OF SUMMER

Odin spits mead into Asgard lunar vats; Suttung not killed

In the Giant Build story, the protagonist is to collect his wages at the beginning of of summer.  In the mead myth, Odin collects his wages at the beginning of winter.  I’ve elsewhere discussed the fact that Odin descends in the mead earth-mountain of Hnitbjorg not as the sun, but in the form of a lunar serpent.  This does suggest that he is the dead sun god of the summer half-year in this particular myth, while his taking of the goddess and the mead from Suttung at the beginning of winter tells us this is properly the time when the giant himself, here the summer king, “dies”.  Odin’s death would be concurrent with his spitting the mead back into the same three lunar vats from which he had previously drunk it at the beginning of winter.

Thus we cannot say that the contest for the Vanadis was only between the Aesir of summer and the giants of winter.  Odin could act as the winter king.  The gods themselves descend from giants and marry giants, and much has been written about the “blurring of the lines” between what is a deity and what is a giant.

2. Peace and Hostages

Snorri tells two different versions of the peace made between the warring divine factions.  In Ynglinga Saga, hostages are offered up by both sides.  The Vanir hand over Njord and Frey, as well as Kvasir.  For their part, the Aesir contribute Hoenir and Mimir.  Snorri continues thusly:

“Now, when Hoenir came to Vanaheim he was immediately made a chief, and Mimir came to him with good counsel on all occasions.  But when Hoenir stood in the Things or other meetings, if Mimir was not near him, and any difficult matter was laid before him, he always answered in one way -- "Now let others give their advice"; so that the Vanaland people got a suspicion that the Asaland people had deceived them in the exchange of men. They took Mimir, therefore, and beheaded him, and sent his head to the Asaland people.  Odin took the head, smeared it with herbs so that it should not rot, and sang incantations over it.  Thereby he gave it the power that it spoke to him, and discovered to him many secrets.”

[Samuel Laing translation]

In Chapter 2 of “Skaldskaparmal” in his Edda, Snorri preserves or invents a very different version of the making of peace between the Aesir and Vanir:

“The beginning of this was, that the gods had a war with the people that are called the Vanir. They agreed to hold a meeting for the purpose of making peace, and settled their dispute in this wise, that they both went to a jar and spit into it. But at parting the gods, being unwilling to let this mark of peace perish, shaped it into a man whose name was Kvasir, and who was so wise that no one could ask him any question that he could not answer. He traveled much about in the world to teach men wisdom. Once he came to the home of the dwarfs Fjalar and Galar. They called him aside, saying they wished to speak with him alone, slew him and let his blood run into two jars called Son and Bodn, and into a kettle called Odrerir. They mixed honey with the blood, and thus was produced such mead that whoever drinks from it becomes a skald and sage.”

The god Hoenir is a constant companion of Odin in different triads and we can thus be fairly certain he is yet another hypostasis of the latter.  Mimir has been linked to both another word for the world tree, Mimameidr, and to a Hoddmimir or ‘Treasure-Mimir’ of Hoddmimis holt (“H.’s wood”).  One of the famous wells of the world tree was called Mimis brunnr in his honor.  I have in my chapter on Norse cosmology identified this well with the sea. Mimir’s head is none other than the sky. i.e. Odin the Sky-Father himself, referred to elsewhere as the skull of the primeval giant Ymir.  Thus when the seeress in Voluspa tells us that Mimir drinks mead every morning from Odin’s eye, which he pledged by placing in the well, we are being told the sky god drinks from the sun each time it rises out of the sea and into the heavens.  The tree itself, of course, is the sky-tree whose top is the North Star upon which the heavens turn.

The mead here is not sea-water, but sunlight – the same sunlight Odin drinks from the three lunar vats and then spits back into the same containers in the mead-theft myth.

And so the making of peace after the war serves merely to continue the movement of the heavenly bodies and the passage of the seasons, all of which had started the war to begin with!  Time and seasonal conflict – the Everlasting Battle fought in honor of the moon goddess – will not cease until Ragnarok, the Doom of the Powers, according to Norse belief.  The catch here, of course, is that AFTER the end of the world, a new one will arise, and the world tree will still spread it branches benignly over it.  Various gods survive, including Balder and his slayer Hod the Blind (none other than Odin, who is both one-eyed and, according to the epithet Tviblindi, ‘Blind in Both Eyes’), although no goddesses escape the cataclysm.  The same game pieces the gods played with before the arrival of the three giant women at the start of Time magically reappear.  A man and a woman will survive, sheltering from the apocalypse in the world tree, and even the sun will shine forth – although, conspicuously, there is no mention of the rebirth of the moon.

Perhaps, it was thought, at long last Gullveig will have finally been destroyed.

ON THE MOUND WITH EGGTHER: TOWARDS A VIKING ‘BOOK OF THE DEAD’

There sat on the grave-mound

And struck his harp

The ogress’s [gygiar] herdsman,

Happy Eggther.

Above him crew

In Gallows Wood

The gleaming red cock

That is named Fialarr.

Voluspa 41, Ursula Dronke translation

In her ground-breaking study on Norse afterlife beliefs, THE ROAD TO HEL, H. R. Ellis Davidson remarks that “there are many takes of breaking into howes in the sagas, and all are roughly of the same pattern.”  In comparing these tales to the various tories of journeys to the land of the dead, she concludes:

“We are left, at any rate, with what seem to be two separate conceptions, although there is a certain similarity between them, and although it is common for stories to contain elements from both side by side… The journeys to the land of the dead, then, might be based on such entry as was known to be obtainable into the actual grave.  Another possibility however is that these stories, which seem to belong to a definite literary tradition, may be rationalizations of a more complex and perhaps more mystical conception.  And it is perhaps most probable that both processes have been at work together.”

What I would like to do in this essay is to seek to identify the objects, personages and places that are symbolically described in these accounts of barrow-breakings and underworld journeys. To accomplish this I will be taking a detailed look at some of the stories themselves, as well as what Davidson lists as the shared motifs of these stories.

The entry into barrow mounds by saga heroes has as its best example that of Grettir the Strong and his encounter with the dead man Kar the Old.  The account begins with a huge fire bursting forth on the headland, where Kar’s barrow is situated.  Grettir exclaims “that the flame came from a buried treasure.”

We are then told:

“The night passed, and when Grettir came back early next morning the digging tools were ready, and the farmer went with him to the mound.  Grettir began to break open the mound, and worked hard without stopping until he reached the rafters [of the earth-house built within the mound], late in the afternoon.  Then he tore them up.  Audun [the farmer] did his best to discourage him from entering the mound.  Grettir told him to watch the rope, ‘for I am going to find out what inhabits the barrow.

Then Grettir went into the mound…”

The battle with the revenant (or draugr)  ensues, and the hero manages to strike off Kar’s head with his sword.  To permanently “inactivate” the revenant, the head is placed between Kar’s buttocks.  From a purely practical standpoint this makes sense, as the revenant cannot walk now, but given the relationship of the Norse draug with the moon (a parallel I’ve mentioned elsewhere when discussing Grettir’s other draug opponent, Glam), one cannot help wonder if lunar symbolism does not apply here, with the head being emblematic of the full moon and the two cheeks of the buttocks standing for the waxing and waning moon.  Audun has fled by this time, so Grettir has to tie the treasure chests to the rope and haul them up out of the mound.

Davidson emphasizes the motif of fire associated with the barrow mound, something found in several sagas and poems.  She makes a case for the fire being symbolic of the cremation blaze, and I’ve mentioned that the cremation blaze itself would appear to represent the fiery cloud through which heavenly bodies must pass before they can set into the earth.  The fire barrier is encountered in the story of Sigurd’s journey to Hind Fell to awaken the valkyrie in the Volsung story, in Queen Eagle-beak’s journey to undirdjup or ‘Under-deep’ (gulf or abyss in Zoega’s dictionary) in the saga of Egil and Asmund, in the saga of Eirik the Wide-farer, where a dragon’s mouth full of smoke and fire must be leapt through (this perhaps revealing Christian influence, where Satan the Dragon’s mouth is the entrance to Hell), Skirnir passes alone through the ‘fierce fire’ on his way to woo the giantess Gerd for the god Frey, Svipdag must go through the fire surrounding Menglod’s home on the mountain, and most famously, perhaps, in the tale of the heroine Hervor, who must pass through the barrier in order to claim her father’s sword from within the barrow.  From the Saga of King Heidrek the Wise (Christopher Tolkien translation):

“Now Hervor saw where out upon the island burned the fire of the barrows [hauga-eldrinn], and she went towards it without fear, though all the mounds were on her path.  She made her way into these fires as if they were no more than mist, until she came to the barrow of the berserks…

No blaze can you light,

Burning in darkness,

That your funeral fires

Should with fear daunt me;

Unmoved shall remain

The maiden’s spirit,

Though she gaze on a ghost [draug]

In the grave-door standing…

I seemed to myself

To be set between worlds,

When all about me

Burnt the cairn-fires.”

When we turn to the actual journeys to the land of the dead, we encounter some of the same barriers, but also several new ones.  The Lay of Skirnir, already alluded to, can be summarized as follows:

1) Gerd, Gymir’s daughter, is in Jotunheim (‘Giant Home’)

2) Gymir’s courts have ferocious dogs tied up in front of the wooden fence surrounding Gerd’s hall (cf. these dogs to the ones below in the Lay of Svipdag and to the bound lunar wolf Fenrir/Managarm)

3) A herdsman (cf. Eggther in Voluspa) sits on a mound (i.e. the barrow, symbolic of the earth)

4) Gerd asks Skirnir why he has come alone across the fierce flames to seek her company

5) Skirnir has the sun-apples of Idunn with him, as well as Balder’s sun-ring

6) When Gerd refuses the gifts, Skirnir threatens her, the worse threat being to give her to a giant below corpse-gates, under the roots of a tree (= Yggdrasill)

We may hear immediately recognize striking similarities with the barrow-breaking stories.  The wooden fence can be likened to the wood-house inside the barrow of Kar the Old.  In other words, metaphorically speaking, Gerd’s “hall” is the interior of the barrow mound, i.e. the interior of the earth.  The dogs are like the Greek triple-headed lunar dog Cerberus, who guards the entrance to Hades – the ‘grave-door’ of the barrow in the Hervor saga.  The reference to the roots of the tree are ironic in the extreme, as the roots penetrate and reside within the earth – or within the earth mound, should the tree be growing atop the barrow.  And, indeed, in the stanza on Eggther from Voluspa we are specifically told the Gallows Tree (upon which Odin hung) is standing over the herdsman.

Other underworld-journey tales add yet more elements to the picture.  The ride of Hermod to Hel in Snorri Sturluson’s GYLFAGINNING can be outlined thusly:

1) Hermod rides on Odin’s horse, Sleipnir

2) He passes through dark and deep valleys for nine nights (9 being the sacred number of the moon, of course)

3) He must cross over the river Gjoll (‘Echoing’) upon the Gjallar Bridge, which is roofed with shining gold and guarded by Modgud (‘Furious Battle’, a manifestation of the lunar valkyrie goddess)

4) His direction from the bridge is downward and to the north

5) The gate of Hel must be leapt over

6) He enters Hel’s hall

Now, this would, at least superficially, seem to be quite different from the journey taken by Skirnir.  However, in reality we are merely dealing with different  mythopoeic symbols being employed.  Darkness when setting into the earth is to be expected as the nine nights is the same nine nights Odin is supposed to have spent on the world tree: it simply designates the presence of the moon in the myth, or that the myth is especially sacred to the moon.  The river we know from the account preserved in Saxo Grammaticus (see below) is a cloud-river full of lightning-weapons.  It can be compared with streams that burst or flow from various barrow mounds, the best known of which is that of the Beowulf poem’s dragon-barrow:

“… saw a stone arch and a gushing stream

that burst from the barrow, blazing and wafting a deadly heat.”  [Lines 2545-47]

The idea here is simple enough: the cloud is wet, it is a vapor, it sends forth prodigious quantities of water in the form of rain, yet it also contains the heavenly fire.

Modgud takes the place of the lunar dog or wolf.  In Odin’s ride to Hel in the poem “Balder’s Dream”, we once again find a canine acting as guardian, this one with blood on its chest.

The covered bridge does appear to be a new symbol.  We are reminded of the Norse Bifrost or Rainbow Bridge, which Snorri tells us is the bridge from the earth to the sky.  As the path to the world of the dead lies downward and to the north once one passes over the bridge, I would tentatively make a case for it being NOT the rainbow, but the Northern Lights.  For instance, in high Scandinavian latitudes, normally just before midnight and when it is dark enough, a green glow appears in the sky, quite often in the form of an arc across the whole of the heavens and directed from east to west.  I’ve mentioned elsewhere the folk beliefs that connect the Northern Lights with the warriors of the Everlasting Battle, and Modgud comments on the fact that troops of dead men tromp across Gjallar Bridge on the Road to Hel.  The entry point to the land of the dead, as I’ve written about in my chapter on Norse cosmology, was the North Pole. These locations argue for the bridge of the dead being the Northern Lights, not the Rainbow.

The most detailed of the Eddaic underworld-journey poems is the Lay of Svipdag.  So important is this poem to our study that I’m quoting it here in full, with my own interjected commentary throughout:

THE LAY OF SVIPDAG (“Sudden Day”)

[Translated at Jormungrundr, https://notendur.hi.is//~eybjorn/]

I. GRÓA'S [the  ‘Growing One’] CHANT

which she, dead, sang to her son.

The son said:

Wake up, Gróa,

wake up, good woman,

I rouse you at the doors of the dead,

hoping you remember

that you bid your son

come to the burial mound.

[Journey starts, as always, at the ‘grave-door’ of the barrow mound.]

Gróa said:

now troubles

my only son,

what misfortune ails you,

that you would call upon that mother,

who is dead and buried,

passed away from the world of men?

The son said:

A dangerous task

was given me by the crafty woman,

the one who embraced my father;

she bid me go to a place,

known to be unapproachable,

to meet with Menglöð (the ‘Necklace Glad’, i.e. Freyja with her Brisingamen).

Gróa said:

Long is the journey,

long are the roads,

long last the yearnings of men,

if it comes to pass

that your wish be granted,

then Skuld's decree is at fault.

The son said:

Sing for me magic spells,

which are beneficial,

mother, help your son.

I fear that I will

perish on my journey,

young as I am in years.

Gróa said:

I sing you the first spell,

which is most useful,

the one Rind sang to Ran:

that you throw off all

which you deem to be evil;

be your own master.

I sing you the second spell,

in case you must travel

roads against your will,

then may Urd's bonds

hold you on all sides,

while you are on the way.

[He is given the protection of the Fate goddess.]

I sing you the third spell,

in case mighty rivers

threaten you with death,

then may Horn and Rud

meanwhile revert to Hel,

and ever dwindle for you.

[Protection against the lightning-bearing cloud-rivers/cremation fire.]

I sing you the fourth spell,

in case battle-ready foes

meet you on the gallow-way,

then may they change their minds,

become friends with you,

intent on making peace.

[Protection from hanging, the form of sacrifice deemed especially sacred to Odin. Odin’s Yggdrasill is the ‘Terrible One’s Horse’, and “riding the gallows” was one certain way to travel to the Otherworld.]

I sing you the fifth spell,

in case fetters will

restrain your arms and legs:

then shall Leifnir's flames

be sung over your leg,

and your limbs be liberated,

your feet unfettered.

[Fetters may be symbolic of death itself, or of a state of panic in battle.  In the early Irish sources, warriors could actually die of battle-panic.]

I sing you the sixth spell,

in case you must travel an ocean

greater than men have known:

then may the calm and the sea

join together in the quern,

and ever grant you a peaceful journey.

[The quern here may be a reference to the quern Grotti of Fenja and Menja, which ground the salt that made the sea salty and whose sinking left a great whirlpool. In some journeys to the land of the dead, as in that of Hading in Saxo Grammaticus, the sea must be crossed before one sets into the underworld.]

I sing you the seventh spell,

in case you meet with

frost on a high mountain:

then may not the corpse-cold

destroy your flesh,

and may your body keep its limbs.

I sing you the eighth spell,

in case you are caught outside

by night on a gloomy road:

that you may avoid

being harmed by

a Christian dead woman.

[This is a fascinating stanza.  It would appear that for the pagan on his way to the pagan Otherworld, dead Christian women were a significant danger.  In what way, exactly, they were considered a threat is hard to say.  Even more mysterious is why one would find a dead Christian woman outside, at night, on a gloomy road – presumably the Road to Hel.  One might expect her to be instead in Heaven!]

I sing you the ninth spell,

in case you must exchange words

with the spear-noble giant:

may you then be given,

from the heart of Mímir,

sufficient words and wit.

[Mimir is a hypostasis of Odin.  Gnomic or wisdom-winning stories are common in Norse literature.]

May you never go

where calamity awaits you,

may no harm obstruct your desires.

On an earth-fixed stone

I stood within the doors,

while I chanted spells for you.

Your mother's words

may you carry hence, my son,

and let them dwell in your breast;

for abundant good fortune

you will have throughout life,

while you remember my words.

II. THE LAY OF FJOLSVITH (the “Very Wise” is one on Odin’s names)

Outside the walls

he saw approaching from below

a giant towards the citadel.

Fjolsvith said:

Hasten away from here

along the humid paths;

here is no sanctuary for you!

Svipdag said:

What monster is this,

standing in front of the gates,

moving amid the perilous flame?

[Here with have the earth-mountain-barrow again, covered by the fiery cloud, with Odin himself acting the role of the ‘herdsman’ of other poems.]

Fjolsvith said:

Whom are you seeking?

What is your quest?

What, friendless one, would you learn?

Svipdag said:

What monster is this,

standing in front of the gate,

who offers no hospitality to a traveller?

Fjolsvith said:

No word of honour has ever

been spoken about you,

so go back where you came from!

Fjolsvith is my name,

I possess a wise mind,

but I am not generous with my food;

within these walls

you shall never enter,

so be on your way, you wolf!

Svipdag said:

Once the eye has beheld

a delightful spectacle,

it ever yearns to return;

these gleaming walls

surround golden halls, I think;

here would I gladly dwell.

Fjolsvith said:

Tell me, young one,

what is your parentage,

and which is your tribe?

Svipdag said:

Wind-Cold is my name,

Spring-Cold was my father,

Mighty-Cold was his father.

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

who reigns here

and holds power over

these lands and costly halls?

Fjolsvith said:

Menglod is her name,

her mother begat her

with the son of Svafurthorin;

she reigns here

and holds power over

these lands and costly halls.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what is the name of this gate,

the greatest obstacle seen

by mortals in the land of the gods?

Fjolsvith said:

Thrymgjoll it is called,

and was made by the three

sons of Solblindi (the “Sun-blind”, a dwarf);

a fetter will hold fast

any traveller

who attempts to open it.

[Here is the ‘death-fetter’ made obvious; whoever passes the Gate of Death in the World of Death is “fettered” with Death.]

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what is the name of this wall,

the greatest obstacle seen

by mortals in the land of the gods?

Fjolsvith said:

Gastropnir it is called,

and I constructed it

from Leirbrimir's limbs [a name for Ymir; see Brimir in Voluspa];

I have fortified it

so that it will stand firm

while the world lasts.

[We will meet with a similar wall in the story of Hading below.  Its function is ambiguous, as on the one hand it may be the barrier between the worlds of life and death, but also of the reverse – the boundary between death and rebirth.]

Svipdag said:

tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

who are these greedy hounds,

who pace back and forth,

guarding the tree's foliage?

[Here the lunar hounds guard the World Tree, i.e. the Sky.]

Fjolsvith said:

One is named Gifur,

the other Geri [one of Odin’s wolves],

if you want to know;

the guardians' old-age remedy (Idunn’s sun-apples)

they will ever keep safe

until the gods perish.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

whether any man

may slip inside,

while the fierce ones sleep?

Fjolsvith said:

Opposite sleeping schedules

were strictly imposed on them,

when they were appointed guards;

one sleeps by night,

the other by day;

thus no one can get through.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

whether there is any food

that a man may obtain,

and run in, while they eat?

Fjolsvith said:

Two meaty morsels

lie in Vidofnir's wings,

since you want to know;

no other food

can a man give them,

and run in, while they eat.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what is the name of the tree,

whose branches extend

through all the lands?

Fjolsvith said:

Mimameidur is it's name,

and few are they who know

from what roots it grows;

by what it will fall,

no one knows;

neither fire nor iron can fell it.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what becomes of the fruit

of this renowned tree,

felled by neither fire nor iron?

Fjolsvith said:

Its fruit is taken

and laid upon a fire

for women in labour;

out then will come

that which they carry inside;

thus it metes out fate among men.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what is the name of the cock

who sits in the lofty tree,

all aglow with gold?

[If he is golden and sits in the sky-tree, he is probably a solar cock.  This makes a lot of sense, as he rooster crows to greet the rising sun and thus announces morning.]

Fjolsvith said:

His name is Vidofnir,

and he stands upon Vedurglasir,

the boughs of Mími's tree;

with a single sorrow

he, the immense, is afflicted

by Sinmara's Surt (Sinmara is the wife of the fire giant Surt).

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

if there is any weapon

by which Vidofnir may fall

down to Hel's abode?

Fjolsvith said:

Its name is Lævateinn  [‘Wound-twig’, the mistletoe-lightning used to kill Balder],

made by Loftur (a name for Loki), and robbed from him

below the gates of death;

with Sinmara it lies

in a chest of iron,

secured with nine strong locks.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

whether he shall return,

who seeks this weapon

and wants to possess it?

Fjolsvith said:

He who seeks the sword

and desires to possess it,

shall return,

only if he brings

a rare object

to the goddess of Aurglasir.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

if there is any treasure,

that mortals can obtain,

at which the pale giantess will rejoice?

Fjolsvith said:

The bright sickle [lja = le, ‘scythe’; here for the crescent moon]

which lies in Vidofnir's wings

you must carry to the mill-place,

and give it to Sinmara,

before she agrees to give you

a weapon for the slaying.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what this hall is called,

which is surrounded by

the wise waver-flame?

Fjolsvith said:

It is called Hyr,

and it will long tremble

on the point of a sword;

this rich mansion

forever shall be known to men

only by hearsay.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

who has constructed

that which I saw within

the walls of the Asmegir [= “Sons of the Gods”]?

Fjolsvith said:

Uni and Iri,

Barri and Ori,

Var and Vegdrasil,

Dori and Uri;

Delling is the guardian

of the tower's lock.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

what is the name of the mount,

on which I see

the renowned bride sitting?

Fjolsvith said:

Lyfjaberg it is named [“Healing Mountain”],

and it has long been

a solace to the sick and sore;

a woman will be cured,

even of the year-malady,

should she climb it.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

who are the maidens,

who peacefully sit

at Menglad's knees?

Fjolsvith said:

One is named Hlif,

the second Hlifþrasa,

Thiodvarta the third,

Bjort and Blid,

Blidur, Frid,

Eir, Aurboda.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

do they protect

those who worship them,

if need must be?

Fjolsvith said:

Some of them protect

those who worship them

at the holy altar;

they will free the sons of men

from any danger,

however great the need.

Svipdag said:

Now tell me, Fjolsvith,

what I will ask you

and what I wish to know:

is there any man,

who may sleep

in Menglad's soft arms?

Fjolsvith said:

There is no man,

who may sleep

in Menglad's soft arms,

except one Svipdag;

this sun-bright maiden

was destined to be his wife.

Svipdag said:

Thrust open the doors,

let the gate swing wide,

here you behold Svipdag;

still go and see

if Menglad is willing

to accept my love.

Fjolsvith said:

Listen, Menglad:

a man has arrived,

go and behold the visitor.

The dogs rejoice,

the house has opened by itself,

I believe it must be Svipdag.

Menglad said:

Wise ravens

shall tear out your eyes

on the high gallows,

if you are lying,

that from afar has arrived

the youth to my halls.

Where have you come from,

where have you journeyed,

what do your family name you?

I must have proof

of your race and your name,

if you are, indeed, my betrothed.

Svipdag said:

Svipdag is my name,

Sun-Bright was my father;

thence I was driven by winds on cold ways.

No one can oppose

Urd's decree,

even though it incurs blame.

Menglad said:

You are most welcome!

My wish has come true,

and I greet you with a kiss;

such a beautiful sight

is a source of delight

to one in love with another.

Long have I sat

on my loved hill,

waiting for you day and night;

now has come to pass

that which I hoped for:

you have returned,

lover, to my hall.

No longer need I wait

for the fulfillment of my desire for you,

nor you for my love;

now it is certain

that we shall be together

for the rest of our lives.

In Book I of Saxo Grammaticus’s HISTORY OF THE DANES, the hero Hading is twice conveyed to the Otherworld by supernatural agencies.  In this first instance a woman bearing stalks of hemlock muffles him in her cloak and vanishes away with him beneath the earth.  He goes with her willingly because he is curious to know in what part of the world fresh plants had sprung up in the winter season.

They penetrate a smoky veil of darkness and move along a path worn away by long ages of travelers.  Here they glimpse persons in rich robes and nobles dressed in purple.  They come eventually to a sunny region which produced the vegetation the woman had brought away.  They stumble on a river of blue-black water full of weapons.  Crossing it by a bridge they see an Everlasting Battle in progress, fought by men who met their death by the sword.

Then they reach a wall over which the woman cannot leap.  She wrings the head off a cock and tosses it over to the other side of the wall, where it immediately crows, proving it has been resurrected.  Remarkably, a very similar event was recorded by the Arab Ibn Fadlan, who witnessed a Rus (Eastern Viking) ship funeral:

“… they led the slave girl to a thing that they had made which resembled a door frame.  She placed her feet on the palms of the men and they raised her up to overlook this frame.  She spoke some words and they lowered her again.  A second time they raised her up ans she did again what she had done; they they lowered her.  They raised her a third time and she did as she had done the two times before.  Then they brought her a hen; she cut off the head, which she threw away, and then they took the hen and put it in the ship [which according to the account would appear to be on the opposite side of the ‘door frame’ from the slave girl]. I asked the interpreter what she had done.  He answered, ‘The first time they raised her she said, “Behold, I see my father and mother.”  The second time she said, “I see all my dead relatives seated.”  The third time she said, “I see my master [the subject of the funeral] seated in Paradise and Paradise is beautiful and green; with him are men and boy servants.  He calls me.  Take me to him.” ‘

This slave girl is later killed by an old woman called the ‘Angel of Death’, and her body laid aboard the ship with the dead Rus chieftain.

It is clear from Saxo’s legendary account and its historical counterpart that the wall or ‘door frame’ is the dividing line – a very definite demarcation – between the worlds of the living and the dead.  However, as I’ve already suggested, this is a myopic view of such a barrier.   Why?  Because the chicken, the slave girl and her master were all dead IN THIS WORLD.  They came to life, as did the rooster in the Hading tale, only when they gained entrance to the Otherworld.  So although the dead WERE dead, they were also very much alive – in fact, more alive than we are, as they enjoyed the same relative immortality as the Norse gods and goddesses they worshipped and whom they lived among in ‘Paradise’.

Hading’s second adventure occurred when Odin wrapped him in a mantle.  The horse passed over the sea and upon arriving at Odin’s domain the hero is given a soothing potion and told his body would become reinvigorated and strong.  The god then prophesizes that Hading must defeat a beast and drink its blood and devour its flesh, and that this will also bring “new force” to his frame and “solid strength” through every sinew.

The presence of the cloak and hemlock (a plant with known hallucinogenic properties) in Hading’s first journey, and the mantle and ‘soothing potion’ in the second suggests that these underworld-journeys were not physical in nature, but were instead shamanistic in the sense that it was the hero’s spirit that made the trip.  In the case of shamans, the cloaks would be of animal hides or bird feathers and would represent the particular animal or avian form or forms assumed by the shaman’s spirit when sent forth on its errand. Trance-induction could and often did involve the ingestion of hallucinogens.  The description of the female seidr-worker in the Saga of Eirik the Red provides her with a cloak, and Odin himself (although seidr was more properly the province of women) was a seidr practitioner.

Jenny Blain in her book NINE WORLDS OF SEID MAGIC: ECSTASY AND NEO-SHAMANISM IN NORTH-EUROPEAN PAGANISM (Routledge, 2002), talks about going ‘under the cloak’ in the context of seidr:

“I find convincing Jón Adalsteinsson’s[*] arguments that the account of Porgeirr is comparable with descriptions of others who clearly go ‘under the cloak’, and stay there for extended times, for magical or divinatory purposes. Sometimes they are described as ‘muttering’, ‘mumbling’ or ‘murmuring’ into the cloak. Adalsteinsson points out that:

‘To mutter or murmur or mumble into one’s cloak thus means, as far as one can tell, to rehearse some kind of soothsaying. Those who practised this seemed by their conduct to be able to see what was hidden to others and to gain information in a supernatural way. They appear to have pulled their cloaks over their heads merely to concentrate better on their task. (Adalsteinsson 1978: 113)’

Adalsteinsson sees Porgeir’s behaviour as more intense and longerlasting: paralleling descriptions from Ireland and Scotland of the seer who would lie wrapped in a bull’s hide, for knowledge, other accounts from Iceland of those who lie still while their spirits travel and cause events to occur, and indeed the Heimskringla description of Ódinn who lay as if ‘asleep or dead’ while his spirit journeyed….”

[Jón Hnefill Aðalsteinsson. 1978. Under the cloak: the acceptance of Christianity in Iceland with particular reference to the religious attitudes prevailing at the time. Studia Etnologica Upsaliensia 4. University of Uppsala, Uppsala; 1998. A piece of horse liver: myth, ritual and folklore in Old Icelandic sources. University of Iceland, Reykjaví]

If these journeys by Hading to the land of the dead are shamanistic in nature, then that means it was believed there were three ways such a journey could be made.  First, one could break into a barrow mound, itself merely symbolic of the Otherworld.  Second, one could himself die.  Or third, one could send his spirit forth to the very real and very dangerous world of the dead and, hopefully, return to one’s still living body.  In the latter case a divine or experienced spirit guide was, apparently, necessary to assure a safe and successful journey home.

The following Website –

http://www.germanicmythology.com/FORNALDARSAGAS/GudmundofGlasisvellir.html

- has assembled the materials on Gudmund (‘God of Protection’) of Glaesisvellir (the ‘shining fields’), Geirrod the Giant as well as Odainsakr, the ‘field of the undead/living’ (or Undersakre/Undensakr, ‘the field below’), all also discussed by Davidson in her chapter on ‘Journey to the Land of the Dead’.  While the stories featuring these Otherworlds and their rulers are entertaining, none of them serve to cast any new light on Norse afterlife beliefs.  And, indeed, they represent late Christian medieval adaptations of earlier pagan myth.

I will offer only one such account here from Saxo Grammaticus, so that the reader may compare the portraits drawn of Geirrod and Utgard-Loki with their Eddaic counterparts.

THE JOURNEY OF THORKILL from THE HISTORY OF THE DANES, Book VIII (translated by Oliver Elton):

“Harald's son Gorm won no mean place of honour among the ancient generals of the Danes by his record of doughty deeds. For he ventured into fresh fields, preferring to practise his inherited valour, not in war, but in searching the secrets of nature; and, just as other kings are stirred by warlike ardour, so his heart thirsted to look into marvels; either what he could experience himself, or what were merely matters of report. And being desirous to go and see all things foreign and extraordinary, he thought that he must above all test a report which he had heard from the men of Thule concerning the abode of a certain Geirrod. For they boasted past belief of the mighty piles of treasure in that country, but said that the way was beset with peril, and hardly passable by mortal man. For those who had tried it declared that it was needful to sail over the ocean that goes round the lands, to leave the sun and stars behind, to journey down into chaos, and at last to pass into a land where no light was and where darkness reigned eternally.

But the warrior trampled down in his soul all fear of the dangers that beset him. Not that he desired booty, but glory; for he hoped for a great increase of renown if he ventured on a wholly unattempted quest. Three hundred men announced that they had the same desire as the king; and he resolved that Thorkill, who had brought the news, should be chosen to guide them on the journey, as he knew the ground and was versed in the approaches to that country. Thorkill did not refuse the task, and advised that, to meet the extraordinary fury of the sea they had to cross, strongly-made vessels should be built, fitted with many knotted cords and close-set nails, filled with great store of provision, and covered above with ox-hides to protect the inner spaces of the ships from the spray of the waves breaking in. Then they sailed off in only three galleys, each containing a hundred chosen men.

Now when they had come to Halogaland (Helgeland), they lost their favouring breezes, and were driven and tossed divers ways over the seas in perilous voyage. At last, in extreme want of food, and lacking even bread, they staved off hunger with a little pottage. Some days passed, and they heard the thunder of a storm brawling in the distance, as if it were deluging the rocks. By this perceiving that land was near, they bade a youth of great nimbleness climb to the masthead and look out; and he reported that a precipitous island was in sight. All were overjoyed, and gazed with thirsty eyes at the country at which he pointed, eagerly awaiting the refuge of the promised shore. At last they managed to reach it, and made their way out over the heights that blocked their way, along very steep paths, into the higher ground. Then Thorkill told them to take no more of the herds that were running about in numbers on the coast, than would serve once to appease their hunger. If they disobeyed, the guardian gods of the spot would not let them depart. But the seamen, more anxious to go on filling their bellies than to obey orders, postponed counsels of safety to the temptations of gluttony, and loaded the now emptied holds of their ships with the carcases of slaughtered cattle. These beasts were very easy to capture, because they gathered in amazement at the unwonted sight of men, their fears being made bold. On the following night monsters dashed down upon the shore, filled the forest with clamour, and beleaguered and beset the ships. One of them, huger than the rest, strode over the waters, armed with a mighty club. Coming close up to them, he bellowed out that they should never sail away till they had atoned for the crime they had committed in slaughtering the flock, and had made good the losses of the herd of the gods by giving up one man for each of their ships. Thorkill yielded to these threats; and, in order to preserve the safety of all by imperilling a few, singled out three men by lot and gave them up.

This done, a favouring wind took them, and they sailed to further Permland. It is a region of eternal cold, covered with very deep snows, and not sensible to the force even of the summer heats; full of pathless forests, not fertile in grain and haunted by beasts uncommon elsewhere. Its many rivers pour onwards in a hissing, foaming flood, because of the reefs imbedded in their channels.

Here Thorkill drew up his ships ashore, and bade them pitch their tents on the beach, declaring that they had come to a spot whence the passage to Geirrod would be short. Moreover, he forbade them to exchange any speech with those that came up to them, declaring that nothing enabled the monsters to injure strangers so much as uncivil words on their part: it would be therefore safer for his companions to keep silence; none but he, who had seen all the manners and customs of this nation before, could speak safely. As twilight approached, a man of extraordinary bigness greeted the sailors by their names, and came among them. All were aghast, but Thorkill told them to greet his arrival cheerfully, telling them that this was Gudmund, the brother of Geirrod, and the most faithful guardian in perils of all men who landed in that spot. When the man asked why all the rest thus kept silence, he answered that they were very unskilled in his language, and were ashamed to use a speech they did not know. Then Gudmund invited them to be his guests, and took them up in carriages. As they went forward, they saw a river which could be crossed by a bridge of gold. They wished to go over it, but Gudmund restrained them, telling them that by this channel nature had divided the world of men from the world of monsters, and that no mortal track might go further. Then they reached the dwelling of their guide; and here Thorkill took his companions apart and warned them to behave like men of good counsel amidst the divers temptations chance might throw in their way; to abstain from the food of the stranger, and nourish their bodies only on their own; and to seek a seat apart from the natives, and have no contact with any of them as they lay at meat. For if they partook of that food they would lose recollection of all things, and must live for ever in filthy intercourse amongst ghastly hordes of monsters. Likewise he told them that they must keep their hands off the servants and the cups of the people.

Round the table stood twelve noble sons of Gudmund, and as many daughters of notable beauty. When Gudmund saw that the king barely tasted what his servants brought, he reproached him with repulsing his kindness, and complained that it was a slight on the host. But Thorkill was not at a loss for a fitting excuse. He reminded him that men who took unaccustomed food often suffered from it seriously, and that the king was not ungrateful for the service rendered by another, but was merely taking care of his health, when he refreshed himself as he was wont, and furnished his supper with his own viands. An act, therefore, that was only done in the healthy desire to escape some bane, ought in no wise to be put down to scorn. Now when Gudmund saw that the temperance of his guest had baffled his treacherous preparations, he determined to sap their chastity, if he could not weaken their abstinence, and eagerly strained every nerve of his wit to enfeeble their self-control. For he offered the king his daughter in marriage, and promised the rest that they should have whatever women of his household they desired. Most of them inclined to his offer: but Thorkill by his healthy admonitions prevented them, as he had done before, from falling into temptation.

With wonderful management Thorkill divided his heed between the suspicious host and the delighted guests. Four of the Danes, to whom lust was more than their salvation, accepted the offer; the infection maddened them, distraught their wits, and blotted out their recollection: for they are said never to have been in their right mind after this. If these men had kept themselves within the rightful bounds of temperance, they would have equalled the glories of Hercules, surpassed with their spirit the bravery of giants, and been ennobled for ever by their wondrous services to their country.

Gudmund, stubborn to his purpose, and still spreading his nets, extolled the delights of his garden, and tried to lure the king thither to gather fruits, desiring to break down his constant wariness by the lust of the eye and the baits of the palate. The king, as before, was strengthened against these treacheries by Thorkill, and rejected this feint of kindly service; he excused himself from accepting it on the plea that he must hasten on his journey. Gudmund perceived that Thorkill was shrewder than he at every point; so, despairing to accomplish his treachery, he carried them all across the further side of the river, and let them finish their journey.

They went on; and saw, not far off, a gloomy, neglected town, looking more like a cloud exhaling vapour. Stakes interspersed among the battlements showed the severed heads of warriors and dogs of great ferocity were seen watching before the doors to guard the entrance. Thorkill threw them a horn smeared with fat to lick, and so, at slight cost, appeased their most furious rage. High up the gates lay open to enter, and they climbed to their level with ladders, entering with difficulty. Inside the town was crowded with murky and misshapen phantoms, and it was hard to say whether their shrieking figures were more ghastly to the eye or to the ear; everything was foul, and the reeking mire afflicted the nostrils of the visitors with its unbearable stench. Then they found the rocky dwelling which Geirrod was rumoured to inhabit for his palace. They resolved to visit its narrow and horrible ledge, but stayed their steps and halted in panic at the very entrance. Then Thorkill, seeing that they were of two minds, dispelled their hesitation to enter by manful encouragement, counselling them, to restrain themselves, and not to touch any piece of gear in the house they were about to enter, albeit it seemed delightful to have or pleasant to behold; to keep their hearts as far from all covetousness as from fear; neither to desire what was pleasant to take, nor dread what was awful to look upon, though they should find themselves amidst abundance of both these things. If they did, their greedy hands would suddenly be bound fast, unable to tear themselves away from the thing they touched, and knotted up with it as by inextricable bonds. Moreover, they should enter in order, four by four.

Broder and Buchi (Buk?) were the first to show courage to attempt to enter the vile palace; Thorkill with the king followed them, and the rest advanced behind these in ordered ranks.

Inside, the house was seen to be ruinous throughout, and filled with a violent and abominable reek. And it also teemed with everything that could disgust the eye or the mind: the door-posts were begrimed with the soot of ages, the wall was plastered with filth, the roof was made up of spear-heads, the flooring was covered with snakes and bespattered with all manner of uncleanliness. Such an unwonted sight struck terror into the strangers, and, over all, the acrid and incessant stench assailed their afflicted nostrils. Also bloodless phantasmal monsters huddled on the iron seats, and the places for sitting were railed off by leaden trellises; and hideous doorkeepers stood at watch on the thresholds. Some of these, armed with clubs lashed together, yelled, while others played a gruesome game, tossing a goat's hide from one to the other with mutual motion of goatish backs.

Here Thorkill again warned the men, and forbade them to stretch forth their covetous hands rashly to the forbidden things. Going on through the breach in the crag, they beheld an old man with his body pierced through, sitting not far off, on a lofty seat facing the side of the rock that had been rent away. Moreover, three women, whose bodies were covered with tumours, and who seemed to have lost the strength of their back-bones, filled adjoining seats. Thorkill's companions were very curious; and he, who well knew the reason of the matter, told them that long ago the god Thor had been provoked by the insolence of the giants to drive red-hot irons through the vitals of Geirrod, who strove with him, and that the iron had slid further, torn up the mountain, and battered through its side; while the women had been stricken by the might of his thunderbolts, and had been punished (so he declared) for their attempt on the same deity, by having their bodies broken.

As the men were about to depart thence, there were disclosed to them seven butts hooped round with belts of gold; and from these hung circlets of silver entwined with them in manifold links. Near these was found the tusk of a strange beast, tipped at both ends with gold. Close by was a vast stag-horn, laboriously decked with choice and flashing gems, and this also did not lack chasing. Hard by was to be seen a very heavy bracelet. One man was kindled with an inordinate desire for this bracelet, and laid covetous hands upon the gold, not knowing that the glorious metal covered deadly mischief, and that a fatal bane lay hid under the shining spoil. A second also, unable to restrain his covetousness, reached out his quivering hands to the horn. A third, matching the confidence of the others, and having no control over his fingers, ventured to shoulder the tusk. The spoil seemed alike lovely to look upon and desirable to enjoy, for all that met the eye was fair and tempting to behold. But the bracelet suddenly took the form of a snake, and attacked him who was carrying it with its poisoned tooth; the horn lengthened out into a serpent, and took the life of the man who bore it; the tusk wrought itself into a sword, and plunged into the vitals of its bearer.

The rest dreaded the fate of perishing with their friends, and thought that the guiltless would be destroyed like the guilty; they durst not hope that even innocence would be safe. Then the side-door of another room showed them a narrow alcove: and a privy chamber with a yet richer treasure was revealed, wherein arms were laid out too great for those of human stature. Among these were seen a royal mantle, a handsome hat, and a belt marvellously wrought. Thorkill, struck with amazement at these things, gave rein to his covetousness, and cast off all his purposed self-restraint. He who so oft had trained others could not so much as conquer his own cravings. For he laid his hand upon the mantle, and his rash example tempted the rest to join in his enterprise of plunder. Thereupon the recess shook from its lowest foundations, and began suddenly to reel and totter. Straightway the women raised a shriek that the wicked robbers were being endured too long. Then they, who were before supposed to be half-dead or lifeless phantoms, seemed to obey the cries of the women, and, leaping suddenly up from their seats, attacked the strangers with furious onset. The other creatures bellowed hoarsely.

But Broder and Buchi fell to their old and familiar arts, and attacked the witches, who ran at them, with a shower of spears from every side; and with the missiles from their bows and slings they crushed the array of monsters. There could be no stronger or more successful way to repulse them; but only twenty men out of all the king's company were rescued by the intervention of this archery; the rest were torn in pieces by the monsters. The survivors returned to the river, and were ferried over by Gudmund, who entertained them at his house. Long and often as he besought them, he could not keep them back; so at last he gave them presents and let them go.

Buchi relaxed his watch upon himself; his self-control became unstrung, and he forsook the virtue in which he hitherto rejoiced. For he conceived an incurable love for one of the daughters of Gudmund, and embraced her; but he obtained a bride to his undoing, for soon his brain suddenly began to whirl, and he lost his recollection. Thus the hero who had subdued all the monsters and overcome all the perils was mastered by passion for one girl; his soul strayed far from temperance, and he lay under a wretched sensual yoke. For the sake of respect, he started to accompany the departing king; but as he was about to ford the river in his carriage, his wheels sank deep, he was caught up in the violent eddies and destroyed.

The king bewailed his friend's disaster and departed hastening on his voyage. This was at first prosperous, but afterwards he was tossed by bad weather; his men perished of hunger, and but few survived, so that he began to feel awe in his heart, and fell to making vows to heaven, thinking the gods alone could help him in his extreme need. At last the others besought sundry powers among the gods, and thought they ought to sacrifice to the majesty of divers deities; but the king, offering both vows and peace-offerings to Utgarda-Loki, obtained that fair season of weather for which he prayed.

Coming home, and feeling that he had passed through all these seas and toils, he thought it was time for his spirit, wearied with calamities, to withdraw from his labours. So he took a queen from Sweden, and exchanged his old pursuits for meditative leisure. His life was prolonged in the utmost peace and quietness; but when he had almost come to the end of his days, certain men persuaded him by likely arguments that souls were immortal; so that he was constantly turning over in his mind the questions, to what abode he was to fare when the breath left his limbs, or what reward was earned by zealous adoration of the gods.

While he was thus inclined, certain men who wished ill to Thorkill came and told Gorm that it was needful to consult the gods, and that assurance about so great a matter must be sought of the oracles of heaven, since it was too deep for human wit and hard for mortals to discover.

Therefore, they said, Utgarda-Loki must be appeased, and no man would accomplish this more fitly than Thorkill. Others, again, laid information against him as guilty of treachery and an enemy of the king's life. Thorkill, seeing himself doomed to extreme peril, demanded that his accusers should share his journey. Then they who had aspersed an innocent man saw that the peril they had designed against the life of another had recoiled upon themselves, and tried to take back their plan. But vainly did they pester the ears of the king; he forced them to sail under the command of Thorkill, and even upbraided them with cowardice. Thus, when a mischief is designed against another, it is commonly sure to strike home to its author. And when these men saw that they were constrained, and could not possibly avoid the peril, they covered their ship with ox-hides, and filled it with abundant store of provision.

In this ship they sailed away, and came to a sunless land, which knew not the stars, was void of daylight, and seemed to overshadow them with eternal night. Long they sailed under this strange sky; at last their timber fell short, and they lacked fuel; and, having no place to boil their meat in, they staved off their hunger with raw viands. But most of those who ate contracted extreme disease, being glutted with undigested food. For the unusual diet first made a faintness steal gradually upon their stomachs; then the infection spread further, and the malady reached the vital parts. Thus there was danger in either extreme, which made it hurtful not to eat, and perilous to indulge; for it was found both unsafe to feed and bad for them to abstain. Then, when they were beginning to be in utter despair, a gleam of unexpected help relieved them, even as the string breaks most easily when it is stretched tightest. For suddenly the weary men saw the twinkle of a fire at no great distance, and conceived a hope of prolonging their lives. Thorkill thought this fire a heaven-sent relief, and resolved to go and take some of it.

To be surer of getting back to his friends, Thorkill fastened a jewel upon the mast-head, to mark it by the gleam. When he got to the shore, his eyes fell on a cavern in a close defile, to which a narrow way led. Telling his companions to await him outside, he went in, and saw two men, swart and very huge, with horny noses, feeding their fire with any chance-given fuel. Moreover, the entrance was hideous, the door-posts were decayed, the walls grimy with mould, the roof filthy, and the floor swarming with snakes; all of which disgusted the eye as much as the mind. Then one of the giants greeted him, and said that he had begun a most difficult venture in his burning desire to visit a strange god, and his attempt to explore with curious search an untrodden region beyond the world. Yet he promised to tell Thorkill the paths of the journey he proposed to make, if he would deliver three true judgments in the form of as many sayings. Then said Thorkill: "In good truth, I do not remember ever to have seen a household with more uncomely noses; nor have I ever come to a spot where I had less mind to live." Also he said: "That, I think, is my best foot which can get out of this foremost."

The giant was pleased with the shrewdness of Thorkill, and praised his sayings, telling him that he must first travel to a grassless land which was veiled in deep darkness; but he must first voyage for four days, rowing incessantly, before he could reach his goal. There he could visit Utgarda-Loki, who had chosen hideous and grisly caves for his filthy dwelling. Thorkill was much aghast at being bidden to go on a voyage so long and hazardous; but his doubtful hopes prevailed over his present fears, and he asked for some live fuel. Then said the giant: "If thou needest fire, thou must deliver three more judgments in like sayings." Then said Thorkill: "Good counsel is to be obeyed, though a mean fellow gave it." Likewise: "I have gone so far in rashness, that if I can get back I shall owe my safety to none but my own legs." And again: "Were I free to retreat this moment, I would take good care never to come back."

Thereupon Thorkill took the fire along to his companions; and finding a kindly wind, landed on the fourth day at the appointed harbour. With his crew he entered a land where an aspect of unbroken night checked the vicissitude of light and darkness. He could hardly see before him, but beheld a rock of enormous size. Wishing to explore it, he told his companions, who were standing posted at the door, to strike a fire from flints as a timely safeguard against demons, and kindle it in the entrance. Then he made others bear a light before him, and stooped his body through the narrow jaws of the cavern, where he beheld a number of iron seats among a swarm of gliding serpents. Next there met his eye a sluggish mass of water gently flowing over a sandy bottom. He crossed this, and approached a cavern which sloped somewhat more steeply. Again, after this, a foul and gloomy room was disclosed to the visitors, wherein they saw Utgarda-Loki, laden hand and foot with enormous chains. Each of his reeking hairs was as large and stiff as a spear of cornel. Thorkill (his companions lending a hand), in order that his deeds might gain more credit, plucked one of these from the chin of Utgarda-Loki, who suffered it. Straightway such a noisome smell reached the bystanders, that they could not breathe without stopping their noses with their mantles. They could scarcely make their way out, and were bespattered by the snakes which darted at them on every side.

Only five of Thorkill's company embarked with their captain: the poison killed the rest. The demons hung furiously over them, and cast their poisonous slaver from every side upon the men below them. But the sailors sheltered themselves with their hides, and cast back the venom that fell upon them. One man by chance at this point wished to peep out; the poison touched his head, which was taken off his neck as if it had been severed with a sword. Another put his eyes out of their shelter, and when he brought them back under it they were blinded. Another thrust forth his hand while unfolding his covering, and, when he withdrew his arm, it was withered by the virulence of the same slaver. They besought their deities to be kinder to them; vainly, until Thorkill prayed to the god of the universe, and poured forth unto him libations as well as prayers; and thus, presently finding the sky even as before and the elements clear, he made a fair voyage.

And now they seemed to behold another world, and the way towards the life of man. At last Thorkill landed in Germany, which had then been admitted to Christianity; and among its people he began to learn how to worship God. His band of men were almost destroyed, because of the dreadful air they had breathed, and he returned to his country accompanied by two men only, who had escaped the worst. But the corrupt matter which smeared his face so disguised his person and original features that not even his friends knew him. But when he wiped off the filth, he made himself recognizable by those who saw him, and inspired the king with the greatest eagerness to hear about his quest. But the detraction of his rivals was not yet silenced; and some pretended that the king would die suddenly if he learnt Thorkill's tidings. The king was the more disposed to credit this saying, because he was already credulous by reason of a dream which falsely prophesied the same thing. Men were therefore hired by the king's command to slay Thorkill in the night. But somehow he got wind of it, left his bed unknown to all, and put a heavy log in his place. By this he baffled the treacherous device of the king, for the hirelings smote only the stock.

On the morrow Thorkill went up to the king as he sat at meat, and said: "I forgive thy cruelty and pardon thy error, in that thou hast decreed punishment, and not thanks, to him who brings good tidings of his errand. For thy sake I have devoted my life to all these afflictions, and battered it in all these perils; I hoped that thou wouldst requite my services with much gratitude; and behold! I have found thee, and thee alone, punish my valour sharpliest. But I forbear all vengeance, and am satisfied with the shame within thy heart -- if, after all, any shame visits the thankless -- as expiation for this wrongdoing towards me. I have a right to surmise that thou art worse than all demons in fury, and all beasts in cruelty, if, after escaping the snares of all these monsters, I have failed to be safe from thine."

The king desired to learn everything from Thorkill's own lips; and, thinking it hard to escape destiny, bade him relate what had happened in due order. He listened eagerly to his recital of everything, till at last, when his own god was named, he could not endure him to be unfavourably judged. For he could not bear to hear Utgarda-Loki reproached with filthiness, and so resented his shameful misfortunes, that his very life could not brook such words, and he yielded it up in the midst of Thorkill's narrative. Thus, whilst he was so zealous in the worship of a false god, he came to find where the true prison of sorrows really was. Moreover, the reek of the hair, which Thorkill plucked from the locks of the giant to testify to the greatness of his own deeds, was exhaled upon the bystanders, so that many perished of it.”

WHAT ODIN WHISPERED IN BALDER’S EAR: THE DEATH OF THE PAGAN CHRIST

“Much have I traveled, much have I tried,

much have I tested the powers:

what did Odin himself say into the ear of his

son before he mounted the pyre?”

Vafthrudnismal 54, ELDER OR POETIC EDDA

Is this famous riddle utterly unanswerable?

Let’s find out!  Certainly, there is much about Balder’s death and funeral that does not have to remain mysterious.  Mythopoeic symbolism abounds, of course, but certain clues found here and there help us decode most of the meanings embedded in this tragic story.

To begin, it is necessary to quote the entire episode.  The following is from  Arthur Gilchrist Brodeur’s and Anthony Faulkes’s translation of Gylfaginning 49 in Snorri Sturluson’s PROSE EDDA:

Then spake Gangleri: "Have any more matters of note befallen among the Æsir? A very great deed of valor did Thor achieve on that journey." Hárr [Odin] made answer: "Now shall be told of those tidings which seemed of more consequence to the Æsir. The beginning of the story is this, that Baldr the Good dreamed great and perilous dreams touching his life. When he told these dreams to the Æsir, then they took counsel together: and this was their decision: to ask safety for Baldr from all kinds of dangers. And Frigg took oaths to this purport, that fire and water should spare Baldr, likewise iron and metal of all kinds, stones, earth, trees, sicknesses, beasts, birds, venom, serpents. And when that was done and made known, then it was a diversion of Baldr's and the Æsir, that he should stand up in the Thing [legislative assembly] and all the others should come shoot at him, some hew at him, some beat him with stones; but whatsoever was done hurt him not at all, and that seemed to them all a very worshipful thing.

"But when Loki Laufeyarson saw this, it pleased him ill that Baldr took no hurt. He went to Fensalir to Frigg, and made himself into the likeness of a woman. Then Frigg asked if that woman knew what the Æsir did at the Thing. She said that all were shooting at Baldr, and moreover, that he took no hurt. Then said Frigg: 'Neither weapons nor trees may hurt Baldr: I have taken oaths of them all.' Then the woman asked: 'Have all things taken oaths to spare Baldr?' and Frigg answered: 'There grows a tree-sprout alone westward of Valhall: it is called Mistletoe; I thought it too young to ask the oath of.' Then straightway the woman turned away; but Loki took Mistletoe and pulled it up and went to the Thing.

"Hödr stood outside the ring of men, because he was blind. Then spake Loki to him: 'Why dost thou not shoot at Baldr?' He answered: 'Because I see not where Baldr is; and for this also, that I am weaponless.' Then said Loki: 'Do thou also after the manner of other men, and show Baldr honor as the other men do. I will direct thee where he stands; shoot at him with this wand.' Hödr took Mistletoe and shot at Baldr, being guided by Loki: the shaft flew through Baldr, and he fell dead to the earth; and that was the greatest mischance that has ever befallen among gods and men.

"Then, when Baldr was fallen, words failed all the, Æsir, and their hands likewise to lay hold of him; each looked at the other, and all were of one mind as to him who had wrought the work, but none might take vengeance, so great a sanctuary was in that place. But when the Æsir tried to speak, then it befell first that weeping broke out, so that none might speak to the others with words concerning his grief. But Odin bore that misfortune by so much the worst, as he had most perception of how great harm and loss for the Æsir were in the death of Baldr.

"Now when the gods had come to themselves, Frigg spake, and asked who there might be among the Æsir who would fain have for his own all her love and favor: let him ride the road to Hel, and seek if he may find Baldr, and offer Hel a ransom if she will let Baldr come home to Ásgard. And he is named Hermódr the Bold, Odin's son, who undertook that embassy. Then Sleipnir was taken, Odin's steed, and led forward; and Hermódr mounted on that horse and galloped off.

"The Æsir took the body of Baldr and brought it to the sea. Hringhorni is the name of Baldr's ship: it was greatest of all ships; the gods would have launched it and made Baldr's pyre thereon, but the ship stirred not forward. Then word was sent to Jötunheim after that giantess who is called Hyrrokkin. When she had come, riding a wolf and having a viper for bridle, then she leaped off the steed; and Odin called to four berserks to tend the steed; but they were not able to hold it until they had felled it. Then Hyrrokkin went to the prow of the boat and thrust it out at the first push, so that fire burst from the rollers, and all lands trembled. Thor became angry and clutched his hammer, and would straightway have broken her head, had not the gods prayed for peace for her.

"Then was the body of Baldr borne out on shipboard; and when his wife, Nanna the daughter of Nep, saw that, straightway her heart burst with grief, and she died; she was borne to the pyre, and fire was kindled. Then Thor stood by and hallowed the pyre with Mjöllnir; and before his feet ran a certain dwarf which was named Litr; Thor kicked at him with his foot and thrust him into the fire, and he burned. People of many races visited this burning: First is to be told of Odin, how Frigg and the Valkyrs went with him, and his ravens; but Freyr drove in his chariot with the boar called Gold-Mane, or Fearful-Tusk, and Heimdallr rode the horse called Gold-Top, and Freyja drove her cats. Thither came also much people of the Rime-Giants and the Hill-Giants. Odin laid on the pyre that gold ring which is called Draupnir; this quality attended it, that every ninth night there dropped from it eight gold rings of equal weight. Baldr's horse was led to the bale-fire with all his trappings.

"Now this is to be told concerning Hermódr, that he rode nine nights through dark dales and deep, so that he saw not before he was come to the river Gjöll and rode onto the Gjöll-Bridge; which bridge is thatched with glittering gold. Módgudr is the maiden called who guards the bridge; she asked him his name and race, saying that the day before there had ridden over the bridge five companies of dead men; but the bridge thunders no less under thee alone, and thou hast not the color of dead men. Why ridest thou hither on Hel-way?' He answered: 'I am appointed to ride to Hel to seek out Baldr. Hast thou perchance seen Baldr on Hel-way?' She said that Baldr had ridden there over Gjöll's Bridge,--'but down and north lieth Hel-way.'

“Then Hermódr rode on till he came to Hel-gate; he dismounted from his steed and made his girths fast, mounted and pricked him with his spurs; and the steed leaped so hard over the gate that he came nowise near to it. Then Hermódr rode home to the hall and dismounted from his steed, went into the hall, and saw sitting there in the high-seat Baldr, his brother; and Hermódr tarried there overnight. At morn Hermódr prayed Hel that Baldr might ride home with him, and told her how great weeping was among the Æsir. But Hel said that in this wise it should be put to the test, whether Baldr were so all-beloved as had been said: 'If all things in the world, quick and dead, weep for him, then he shall go back to the Æsir; but he shall remain with Hel if any gainsay it or will not weep.' Then Hermódr arose; but Baldr led him out of the hall, and took the ring Draupnir and sent it to Odin for a remembrance. And Nanna sent Frigg a linen smock, and yet more gifts, and to Fulla a golden finger-ring.

"Then Hermódr rode his way back, and came into Ásgard, and told all those tidings which he had seen and heard. Thereupon the Æsir sent over all the world messengers to pray that Baldr be wept out of Hel; and all men did this, and quick things, and the earth, and stones, and trees, and all metals,--even as thou must have seen that these things weep when they come out of frost and into the heat. Then, when the messengers went home, having well wrought their errand, they found, in a certain cave, where a giantess sat: she called herself Thökk. They prayed her to weep Baldr out of Hel; she answered:

Thökk will weep waterless tears

For Baldr's bale-fare;

Living or dead, I loved not the churl's son;

[better yet, the old man’s son gave me no joy, as in Orchard, or no good got I from the old one’s son, as in Faulkes]

Let Hel hold to that she hath!

And men deem that she who was there was Loki Laufeyarson, who hath wrought most ill among the Æsir."

First, although Balder has been referred to as a sort of pagan Christ by notable scholars (compare, for example, his being pierced by the blind Hod and Christ’s being subjected to the same form of death by the blind Longinus), there is little doubt that he was, in fact, a sun god.  The best proof of this comes from the the motif of the weeping of the earth “when they come out of frost and into the heat.”  This heat is, of course, produced by the sun.

Draupnir, Odin’s self-replicating golden ring, is itself a sun symbol, and it is noteworthy that while we are told Balder does not return from the underworld, Draupnir does.  The imprisonment of Balder, then, is yet another instance of the death of the sun god of the summer half-year who will not be reborn until winter has passed. The sun that returns in the guise of Draupnir is his twin, rising into the winter sky to begin his half-year reign.

Hod is the Blind God, and this is a metaphorical way of saying he is an aspect of Odin, who is variously blind in one eye (because he gave us his sun-eye in pledge to Mimir for a drink at the sea-well) or actually called Tviblindi, “Blind in Both Eyes”.  The mistletoe is a lightning-weapon, a spear (or, in Saxo, a sword) version of Thor’s hammer Mjollnir.

The funeral ship is subjected to a triple lighting ritual.  First to set fire to it is the giantess Hyrokkin, whose wolf steed with snakes as reins proves her to be the lunar valkyrie.  There is then a general lighting, followed by Thor’s “blessing” of the ship with his hammer.  The dwarf Lit has confused students of Norse myth, as his name literally means ‘the hued or colored one’.  However, the word litr has another meaning in Old Norse, as evinced in the entry from the Cleasby-Vigfusson Dictionary:

Litr 2. special usage, of day-break, the first dawn when the light changes; en er þeir kómu upp á heiðina kenndu þeir at lit brá, they saw the day-break, Sturl. iii. 217; vísaði hann þeim leið, tók þá at kenna annars litar (viz. in the morning), 171; ok í annan lit (the second colour, viz. the changing from dark to light in the early morning, the 'blush of morn') fór hann at sjá veiðiskap þeirra, Þorf. Karl. 396; en at öðrum lit dags, Orkn. 196; litu er lýsti (when the light brightened, impers.) létusk þeir fúsir allir upp risa, Am. 28; cp. 63, where the true reading may be, -- dó þá dýrir, dags var heldr snemma | 'litu er lysti' ... (MS. letu þeir alesti).

So if Lit the dwarf (found as a giant name in a skaldic poem) represents the color/light of dawn, what does his burning and dying signify?  Our first assumption would be that Balder’s ship Hringhorni (“Ring-horn” or Ring-prow; compare the beautiful spiral prow of the Gokstad ship) was itself a solar vessel and the ‘fire’ of the funeral had the color or litr of dawn.  If so, this would be in direct contradistinction to the theory I’ve proposed elsewhere in this book, i.e. that the Viking dragon ship of the cremation funeral was a lunar vessel.

Rudolf Simek (in his entry for Hringhorni in DICTIONARY OF NORTHERN MYTHOLOGY) associates Balder’s ship with so-called sun ships found as Bronze Age rock carvings in Scandinavia.  In THE SUN GODS OF ANCIENT EUROPE, Miranda Green says

“One of the most repeated composite motifs on north European rock-art consists of the ship and the sun-disc, and the association between these two images on Bronze Age metalwork springs immediately to mind.  Wheel-like suns appear above or beneath ships, or they are attached to vessels in some manner… The sun-disc may be beneath the ship, as if reversing the image on bronze vessels, where the ship carries the sun.  Often the solar motif ois actually attached to the boat in some manner: the disc may be on a stand or stalk which rises from the hull of the ship, or attached to the gunwale of the vessel.  At Bjornstad in southern Norway are three ship-carvings, the largest boat being over 4 m long; this ship has a sun-disc attached to the prow [emphasis mine], as if being pulled along by the  sun’s power… The ship is the commonest associate of the sun-disc in Scandinavia.”

However, we must be careful here.  I have maintained that it is the dead sun god who is taken to the underworld on the lunar boat.  This makes sense of the activities of dragons haunting barrows (e.g. the Beowulf monster or Nidhogg).  If the sun is killed seasonally and also represents its own solar funeral ship, then it is conceivable that Balder’s Hringhorni could have been launched at dawn (= Lit) and carried him across the sky to set into the earth at dusk, where Hel was localized. But this is at odds with the natural notion that the sun dies as it sets into the earth – NOT when it rises at dawn.  Dawn is the time of rebirth, not funerals.  Thus the death of Lit may represent instead the ‘death of dawn’, quite literally, in that because Balder the sun god was now dead there would be no dawn.  We can point to the presence of the moon goddess at the ship in the person of Hyrokkin.  I do not believe it is a coincidence that she is the one who launches the vessel.

Also, when one looks at the actual carvings of these supposed solar boats (Green's books contains drawings done by Pauk Jenkins, after Gelling and Davidson's The Chariot of the Sun and other Rites and Symbols of the Northern Bronze Age, 1969) many are of a pronounced crescentic form.  This again points to the moon boat, carrying or otherwise close to or connected with the sun wheel, rather than a boat which is itself the sun.  A rock carving from Kalleby, Bohuslan, shows a horse pulling the sun-wheel above the crescent-shaped ship.  While we could have in this case a duplication of the sun, it makes more sense to see the horse-drawn wheel as the solar symbol being accompanied by the lunar vessel.

Loki’s role in this myth, as usual, is complex.  In another chapter I’ve shown him to be a sky god and a hypostasis of Odin.  Here he not only acts as the facilitator of Hod’s (= Odin’s) slaying of Balder, but also prevents the god from being wept out of Hel.  Of course, we cannot be at all certain that in the original myth Thokk (‘pleasure, liking’) the giantess really was Loki.  Snorri’s claim to this effect is ambiguous.  The fact that she is represented as being in a cave – where the sun’s rays would presumably not penetrate, and so could not cause her to “thaw” tears – points instead to Hel herself, Loki’s daughter.

As punishment for his role in the death and underworld imprisonment of Balder, Loki is taken to a cave and bound on three lunar stones.  This alone may have led to the belief that Thokk was the shape-shifter/sex-changer Loki.  But it would be more in keeping with the tone of the story if Hel herself – the one who offered to release the bright god on the condition that everything on earth weep for him – were the only thing/person who refused to do so.  Indeed, it would be most ironic if Thokk were Hel, as the latter’s statement about obtaining no joy from Balder alive OR dead would then make perfect sense.

As a final note, I would remark that the burning of Balder’s wife Nanna with him on the boat points to the practice of suttee.  This practice is known historically from the Rus ship cremation recorded by the Arab writer Ibn Fadlan, where a slave girl was chosen to accompany her master to Valholl.

So in conclusion, what did All-father whisper in his son’s ear?  I imagine it was something like this:

“Sorry for killing you son, but it was necessary.  And don’t worry… you only have to stay dead for half a year.  After that, you’ll be your usual sunny self again.  Of course, we do have to worry about Ragnarok sooner or later.  But I’ll leave that for another time.  I know this is difficult and there’s no sense making it more unpleasant than it has to be.  Fare voyage and see you in six months!”

REFLECTIONS ON VIGRID/OSKOPNIR AND IDAVOLL: THE NORSE WORLD DURING AND AFTER RAGNAROK

In the Old Norse poem “Voluspa”, which tells of the Ragnarok or Doom of the Powers that is, essentially, the end of the world, we learn that the gods reside (strophe 7) at a place called Idavoll.  Later, following the universal destruction of the last battle, gods and men reappear in a new Idavoll (strophe 57), itself situated somewhere on a new earth that rises out of the sea.

At first Idavoll – which has been subject to various etymologies – would appear to be merely a mythological construct.  However, as Rudolf Simek mentions in his Dictionary of Northern Mythology, Idavoll would appear to correspond perfectly to Idisiaviso, the name of a historical battle site located somewhere between Hameln and Minden on the Weser River in Germany.  This was the place were the famous Cheruscan chieftain Arminius suffered a major defeat when fighting the Roman army under Germanicus.  This defeat was part of Germanicus’s avenging of Arminius’s annihilation of the three Roman legions of Varus in the Teutoburg Forest (now believed to be in the vicinity of Kalkriese).

The identification of Idavoll with Idisiaviso reminds us very much of the Christian notion that a New Jerusalem would descend from the heavens onto the mountain of Zion after this faith’s eschatological vision unfolds.  According to the Revelation of St. John, part of the Christian world destruction involves a battle at Armageddon, i.e. Har Meggido, a real city that had been the site of some major battles in the Old Testament.  Because the place was well-known to Biblical audiences as a center of strife, it was symbolically selected as the location of the final conflict between the forces of good and evil.

Is there an Armageddon in the Old Norse eschatology?  Well, as a matter of fact, yes, there is: it is called variously the plain of Vigrid or the island of Oskopnir.  But do either or both of these battlefields represent an actual real-world location, as is the case with Armageddon in the Christian tradition?  Or are they merely mythological constructs, as Idavoll was once thought to be?

Oskopnir is not a real place-name.  Instead, it would appear to be a result of learned invention or even philosophical speculation.  The -nir of this word is a fairly standard Old Icelandic suffix.  Oskop- has been related, properly I think, to Old Icelandic word meaning something like “unmade”.  Various translators of the Eddas have suggested as much, although I think they make a mistake is describing the place itself as that which is unmade, unshapen, uncreated, etc.  Instead, we should see in the word something akin to “[the place of] unmaking”.  In other words, Oskopnir is the antithesis of Creation, the place where the world is, literally, unmade during the paroxysms that attend the final battle.  Oskopnir is referred to as an island most likely because the Norse had a fondness for the holmgangr or “island-going”, a description of the sacred and legal procedure to be followed during a duel. And Surt’s presence on the island may point to an active volcanic island.   It may be that the plain Vigrid is on the island or we may be dealing with two separate strains of eschatological development.  In one, the battle was on an island and in another, it was on a plain.

Are we any better off with Vigrid in the sense of finding a real-world location for the last battle?  First, the name itself is not without its difficulties.  You will find it in Simek and Orchard, respectively, with the sense of “place on which battle surges” or “battle-surge”.  Through a private communication with Professor Doctor Doctor Simek, I’ve learned that the ‘surge’ definition is an extrapolation from ridr, ‘to sway, swing’ (see both the Cleasby-Vigfusson and Zoega Old Icelandic dictionaries).  More literally, Simek would render Vigridr as ‘a plain where the battle sways back and forth’.   Orchard took his “surge” definition from Simek.

Another problem with Vigrid is the plain’s size.  We are told the plain stretches 100 leagues (read ‘120’ for the German long-hundred) in every direction.  This is 360 miles in every direction, making for a total of 129,600 square miles or 335,662 square kilometers.  So Vigrid is a huge plain, and its scale would once again point to this place as a mythological construct.  Of course, such a detail could be a later accretion to the tradition.

So, is Vigrid, like Oskopnir, merely an abstraction or mythological construct?  Or can it be localized in the real world?

On the location of Vigrid, we really only have one vague but important clue.  “Lokasenna” 42 tells us that “Muspell’s sons ride over/above Myrkvid” on their way to the Ragnarok battle.  This is at least confirmation that the battle does NOT take place in the south or even in the more civilized Roman lands.  While the precise location of Myrkwood or the Dark Wood is itself somewhat ambiguous in the Norse sources, in all likelihood its origin should be sought in the German Schwarzwald or Black Forest.  Another option is to identify the Myrkvid with the ancient Hercynia Silva.  These great expanses of primeval forest lay north of the Roman road from the Rhineland to the Danube and as such were seen as separating Germania from the regions to the south. Surt and his sons belonged to the distant south. Thus their riding over/above Myrkvid   tells us that the Norse envisioned Vigrid as lying in the north, somewhere above this vast boundary forest.

I do believe I have found a candidate for Vigrid – and it is not far from the Idavoll/Idisiaviso on the Weser between Minden and Hameln. A systematic search of German place-names has revealed only one which can possibly conform to Vigrid: Wickriede in Nordrhein-Westfalen, the name of a right-hand tributary of the Grose Aue, itself a tributary of the Weser. I've consulted with German place-name expert Professor Doctor Jurgen Udolph and he kindly sent along the following notes on Wickriede, which can best be etymologized as 'Elm Stream':

"Wickriede

Flussname, rechts zur Aue (Warme Aue Weser) - U. Borchers, Das Flußgebiet der Unterweser und der mittleren Weser (= Hydronymia Germaniae A, Lfg. 18), Stuttgart 2005, S. 147

1771 Wickriede

auch Ortsname Wickriede – östlich Espelkamp, nordwestl. Minden

Diskutiert bei:

F. Witt, Beiträge zur Kenntnis der Flußnamen Nordwestdeutschlands, Phil. Diss. Kiel 1912, S. 115, 187: sieht im ersten Teil wīk „Flecken, Siedlung, Ort“.

J. Udolph, Namenkundliche Studien zum Germanenproblem, Berlin - New York 1994, S. 387:

Hierher gehören auch eine im 14.Jh. als Ulenride erwähnte Siedlung bei Wallen  und 1682 Volriede, in Buchholz , weiterhin Warbsriethe, FlurN. bei Gr. Gusborn ; Waschelriede , FlurN. bei Neustadt/Rbge. ; Weiche Riehe und Wiewerrie, FlurN. bei Raddingsdorf; Wecken Riehn, FlurN. bei Selmsdorf ; Wickriede, auch Kl. Wickriede, GNN. bei Stolzenau ; Wiekriede bei Hille (Hunte) ; Winkel-Riede, Zufluß z. Lahrer B. bei Vechta .

Riede

forthcoming: J. Udolph, Where did the „English“ come from? The colonisation of England by Germanic tribes on the basis of place-names. In: International Conference on Historical Language and Literacy in the North Sea Area, Stavanger 2009.

Extract:

5.         German Riede “mud, mush, dirt, soil”

The German water-term Riede, which is relatively frequent in the area along the North Sea, has often been examined in terms of its distribution and etymology. Its Low German equivalent is ride, rîde, rien “natural watercourse, small river, rivulet in the mudflat”; the Middle Low German term is rîde, rîe, rîge (ride, rije, rige) “brook, small river, rift”. In Old Saxon it is ritha, rithe “watercourse, small river”; Frisian riede “canal, small river in the mudflat”, ryt, ryd(e) “brede greppel”, North Frisian rîde, riet; Old Frisian reed “small river” and rîth “brook”; Dutch rijt “water-loop”, Middle Dutch rijt, Old Low Franconian rîth “brook”.

Very early the word was encountered in English: it is found in Old English rīð, rīðe, rīðig “small river”, rīðe “brook, drawn-out narrow lowland, old streambed”, English rithe, ride “small river, originated by rain, small stream”, rigatt “a small channel from a stream made by rain” (cf. Udolph 1994: 377–394).

In Germany, numerous examples of place-names with this element can be found. Some of them belong to younger strata and are thus not very significant for the present investigation, which focuses on the older strata: Achelriede, Aschriehe, Bargeriede, Bassriede, Bickenriede, Bleckriede, Bollriede, Borgriede, Botterriede, Brandriehe, Bruchriede, Brunriehe, Diekriede, Eilenriede, Ellerige, Jachelriede, Janrieden, Middel Rie (Middels Rie), Exeriede, Feldriede, Feldriede, Flehmanns Rieh, Flämischen Rüe, Weeckenlands Rüe, Flissenriede, Fluthriede, Fohlenrien, Fuhlenrüe, Fuldenriede, Fuhle Riede, Die Große Riede, Grotrüh, Haferriede, Hauenriede, Holtride and many more.

Examples that belong to an older stratum are: 726 (copy about 1222) Araride (near Cologne), Brüchter near Ebeleben, 876 Borahtride, 1290 Bruchtirde, also Burichtride, Borantride; Corveyer evidence from about 826–876 Hrithem (with inorganic h-).

In the Netherlands, Belgium, Luxembourg and North France, the following examples have been detected: Bruggenrijt, Dieprijt, het Dikke Riet, Munnikenzijlster, Ekkersrijt, Houtrijt, Jutjesriet, Peelrijt, Pieperij, Riet, Rijt, Segerijd and others; some of these are, however, young formations.

England shows numerous examples containing this element. Some represent very early coinages, such as Abberd; Beverley Brook, 693 (copy 11th century) beferiði; Blackrith; 972 (copy 1050) Bordriðig; Chaureth, 1086 Ceauride; Childrey; Coldrey, 973/74 (copy 12th century) (to) colriðe; Coleready; Cropredy; Cottered, 1086 Chodrei; 1228 Ealdimererithi; Eelrithe, 680 ad Aelrithe; Efferiddy; Erith; Fingrith; 693 river- and stream-names Fugelriðie; Fulready; Fulrithe; Gooserye; Hendred, 984 Henna rið; 774 Hweolriðig; Landrith; Shottery, 699–709 (map 11th century) Scottarið and many more.

The distribution on the map shows that these place-names occur especially in Northern Germany, the Netherlands, Belgium and England. Thus, it may also suggest that the settlers immigrated to England via the channel.

Map 6. Riede, ride, rithe, riet, rið in geographic names (Udolph 1994: 393)

s. Attachment

cf. J. J. Udolph, Namenkundliche Studien zum Germanenproblem, Berlin - New York 1994, S. 377-394.

J. Udolph, Die Landnahme Englands durch germanische Stämme im Lichte der Ortsnamen. In: Nordwestgermanisch (Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, Ergänzungsband 13), Berlin-New York 1995, S. 223-270.

Sachsenproblem und Ortsnamenforschung, in: Studien zur Sachsenforschung 13 (1999)427-448.

Wick

Nicht wīk „Dorf, Siedlung“ usw. (s. L. Schütte, Wik. Eine Siedlungsbezeichnung in historischen und sprachlichen Bezügen, Köln-Wien 1976), sondern altenglisch wice, niederdeutsch wiecke ‚Rüster, Ulme’ (H. Jellinghaus: Diewestfälischen Ortsnamen nach ihren Grundwörtern, Osnabrück 1923, S. 170), vgl. Wickede (M. Flöer, C. M. Korsmeier, Die Ortsnamen des Kreises Soest (= Westfälisches Ortsnamenbuch, Bd. 1), Bielefeld 2009, S. 472.

cf. A.H. Smith, English Place-Name Elements, T. 2, Cambridge 1956, S.  263"

According to Norse myth, the elm tree was made by the gods into the first woman. That is, if we go by Embla = 'Elm'.  Scholars now prefer (see Simek) to associate Embla with Latin ampelus, Greek ampelos, 'vine'.  But this does not completely solve the problem, as Ovid in his Fasti reminds us that Ampelus was a young man who died while picking grapes from a vine that had wrapped itself about an elm tree.

The Wickriede stretches from its source at Frotheim in the south to NE of Rahden.  As such, its course passes between the region of Idavoll near Minden-Hameln to the east and southeast and Kalkriese to the west. Frotheim is Frothi's/Frodi's Home, the personal name being that of the famous legendary Danish king Snorri Sturluson identifies with the god Freyr.

While the Wickriede place-name does not match the supposed meaning of the Old Icelandic Vigrid, it does not necessarily follow that the latter could not have originated with the former.  Alternately, an original Saxon 'Battle stream' could later have been rendered by the more familiar wick.  The exciting thing to me about Wickriede is the unlikelihood that its being found in this region is merely a coincidence.  The Teutoberg Battle of Varus and Arminius was a running battle of several days' duration. Although what has been discovered archaeologically at Kalkriese would appear to represent the end of the massacre of Romans by the Germans, there were previous locations that, were they known, would doubtless also yield up more of the slain legionaries.  It is certainly conceivable that one such site of slaughter was the Wickriede, and that this name, though not preserved for us by the Classical historians, may have been remembered by the Germans themselves, who passed the tradition along to their cousins the Scandinavians.

We may even be able to account for the huge size of the Vigrid plain.  Wickriede is on the edge of the extensive North German Plain, and Adam of Bremen, in describing Saxony (in his “History of the Archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen”), said “Except for an occasional hill, the country, looked at closely, is nearly all a sloping plain.”  The stream’s location may have caused its name, during the evolution of heroic legend, to be applied to the entire plain.

A map from http://eclecticmeanderings.blogspot.com/2009/09/two-thousand-years-ago-this-m... does a very nice job of plotting the three probable camps of Varus.  Note that Camp 1 is located right at the Wickriede stream.

Two more maps (courtesy Cristiano64 via Wikipedia) show again the general direction of Varus's line of march.  Once again, the route taken by the Romans would have lead them across the Wickriede stream.

THE NORSE AND THE BRITISH MORRIS DANCES

Morris Dances fell on Whitsun, which is Pentecost. In the West, the earliest possible date for Pentecost is May 10 (as in 1818 and 2285), and the latest possible date June 13 (as in 1943 and 2038). In the East, this range of possible dates presently corresponds to May 23 through June 26 on the Gregorian calendar.

What does Morris mean? Several theories have been proposed, though none help us understand the origin and meaning of the dance.  For those who would like to review the main theories, please see

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morris_dance

It may not a coincidence that the Morris Dance often incorporates a sword dance.  One of the towns claiming precedence (indeed, a “lineage”) for the Morris Dance tradition is Abingdon, England.  Not surprising, then, that we find in The History of the Church of Abingdon the claim that Hugh Capet, King of France (c. 939 – 24 October 996) , sent to Athelstan, King of England (King of the West Saxons from 924 to 927 and King of the English from 927 to 939), the standard of St. Mauricius, patron of swordsmiths, and that this relic was installed in the church at Abingdon.  St. Maurice was called ‘Moris’ in the Golden Legend.  His story may be found here:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Saint_Maurice

More information on him can be found here:

http://www.copticchurch.net/topics/synexarion/maurice.html

http://www.foxtail.nu/bjorn/h_stm_e.htm

http://www.bartleby.com/210/9/221.html

http://www.aug.edu/augusta/iconography/goldenLegend/maurice.htm

http://www.aug.edu/augusta/iconography/maurice.html

http://www.heroicage.org/issues/7/hare.html

The only problem I can see with this theory is that the Feast Day of St. Maurice the patron of swordsmiths is September 22nd.  Why, then, would a dance in his honor be performed on Pentecost/Whitsun?  I’ve not been able to resolve this problem, unfortunately.

The only actual Morris-like name that can be directly linked to Christian ritual during Pentecost has to do with the "Veni, Creator Spiritus" (Come, Holy Spirit), a prayer attributed to Rabanus Maurus (A.D. 776-856). It is prayed during the liturgy today. On Pentecost, as on 1 January, a plenary indulgence can be acquired, under the usual conditions, by reciting it.  On this Maurus (another Latin name meaning Moor, like Mauritius/Mauricius), see

http://www.newadvent.org/cathen/12617a.htm

http://www.preces-latinae.org/thesaurus/Hymni/VeniCreator.html

Can St. Maurice be linked to the Morris Dance, despite his unpromising Feast date?

Well, here’s where the story takes a strange twist.  A friend and Morris Dancer reminded me of the Papa Stour sword dance, held on the island of that name in the Shetlands.  The Shetland Islands, as is well known, were fairly early on settled by the Vikings.  It is, therefore, generally agreed that the dance is of Norse origin.

This made me look to the Scandinavian countries for some of their Pentecost traditions.  I did not have to look long before I found very clear evidence of the involvement of earlier solar worship. For example, I can cite the following practice from Denmark:

“PINSE (Pentecost, or Whitsun) The fiftieth day after Easter

Pentecost or Whitsun is the great spring holiday. For weeks beforehand housewives are scrubbing, scouring and putting everything to rights. Tailors are busy, too, because Whitsun is the traditional time for new summer clothes. Since beech trees are beginning to bud at this season many Copenhagen residents go by bicycle to woods and forests and gather armfuls of tender young branches. These boughs are used to decorate the houses--in symbol of welcome to early spring.

According to an old folk saying, "the sun dances on Pinse morning." Townsfolk, as well as country people rise at dawn to witness this miracle. In Copenhagen it is customary to get up early and go to Frederiksberg hill to watch the sun rise and "see it dance." According to custom, coffee, which is served in the garden, must be on the table by six o'clock, although the sun is up long before that hour.

Anden Pinsedag, or Whit Monday, is a general holiday. People make excursions to the woods for picnics or go to rural restaurants for an outdoor party and a good country meal, followed by dancing and singing. Indeed, singing is an important feature of most celebrations, as this is the day when singing society members, accompanied by wives and children, make all kinds of rural expeditions.”

The key to this set of observances is the curious coincidence of both the sun and the people engaging in dance for the holy days in question.  We are immediately led to surmise that the dancing people are, in typical ritual fashion, replicating the sun’s own dancing.  If this is so, then we may have found the answer to the mystery of the Moorish or Maurice Dance!

The names Maurus, Mauritius/Mauricius and the like all stem from the Latin, which in terms come from Greek mauro.  Mauro means “black, blackened or charred”, a description of the black skin color of the Moors of Mauritania.  This coloration was thought to be due to the power of the sun, and indeed, their country was far to the south where the sun was at its most powerful.

We need now only look to Norse mythology.  There we find the fire demon (or god) Surt, whose name means ‘the Black one’ (cf. ON svartr, ‘black’, English swart, ‘black’).  He lives in the south, like the Moors, in the land of heat and fire.  More importantly, his sword is intimately associated with the sun. From the Old Norse poem “Voluspa” of the Poetic Edda:

50.

Surtr ferr sunnan

með sviga lævi,

scínn af sverði

sól valtíva;

griótbjörg gnata,

enn gífr rata,

troða halir helveg,

enn himinn klofnar.

This first part of the stanza may be translated as follows (from Ursula Dronke):

Surtr moves from the south

With the scathe of branches;

There shines from his sword

The sun of the gods of the slain… etc.

What I would propose happened, therefore, is simply this:  the purely pagan Surt/’Black One’ with his sun-sword has been replaced by Maurice/’Black One’, who also bears the same solar weapon.  That when the Morris Dancers perform, they are, literally, the sun dancing, as in Denmark on Whitsun and Whit Monday.  In other words, Maurice is an acceptable Christian substitute for the earlier Surt, who must’ve been known in all those parts of England that came under Viking domination or control.

In the Spring, the Sun RETURNS TO THE NORTH FROM THE SOUTH.  In other words, the sun or sun-sword is brought north again, presumably by Surt/Maurice, who issues forth from the home of the sun in the south.  This is what the Morris Dance seems to be celebrating.

I think the most important work on the Moorish question was done here: Gallop, Rodney (1934). “The Origins of the Morris Dance”. Journal of the English Folk and Dance Society 1 (3): 122–129.

http://www.jstor.org/discover/10.2307/4521040?uid=3739960&uid=2129&uid=2&uid=70&uid=4&uid=3739256&sid=21102591044501

Gallop would see the Moorish element as an overlay, not as the origin for the dance. I agree with Gallop on this point.  We need to bear in mind that things Moorish were considered “pagan” by Christian standards of the day.  In similar fashion, ‘Sarsen’, a variant of Saracen, is used for a certain type of stone found used in megalithic monuments.  This is because of its connotation as stone erected by pre-Christian pagans.

Thus a Moorish Dance or Morris Dance is a “Pagan Dance”.

A NOTE ON THE ABBOTS BROMLEY HORNED DANCE

I did some thinking on the horn dance element of the Abbot Bromley Horn Dance...

Made no sense to me, given the deer in Britain.  They rut in mid September to late October (rarely into November). and the hinds give birth in late March, peaking in the beginning of June.  Bulls shed their antlers in the Spring (March or April).  So none of the hallmarks of the deer life cycle fits the late December to early January dates of the dance.

However, as is well known, the first Abbot Bromley horns were FROM REINDEER.  The older reindeer bulls, i.e. the ones in their prime, DROP THEIR ANTLERS FIRST, IN LATE DECEMBER OR EARLY JANUARY.

Thus the notion that this custom was imported from Scandinavia is doubtless correct.  Staffordshire (wherein we find Abbot Bromley) may have for a time lain at least in part in the Danelaw and thus been under Viking control.  My guess is that the custom should be traced, then, to no later than the end of the period of Danish rule in this part of England, say the 11th century.  It may, of course, have come in as early as the 9th.

The shedding of the reindeer horns would be a seasonal marker of midwinter, essentially.  The dance is celebrating this particular time of year by replicating the shedding of the reindeer horns.

I TOOK UP THE RUNES: THE SPELLS OF ODIN IN HAVAMAL

In the Norse Eddic poem “Havamal”, the god Odin cryptically refers to eighteen magical songs or spells meant to be used in conjunction with the runes.  These songs have been variously interpreted in the past, and different runes or combinations of runes have been applied to each.  Unfortunately, as is true of Guido von List’s “Armanen” system (see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Armanen_runes), mystical or intuitive approaches have failed to yield any convincing analyses.  Some more rationalistic attempts have shown promise in their methodology, but have also produced dubious conclusions.

What follows is my own brief attempt to grapple with the problem posed by the eighteen Havamal songs.  My method is rather simple: begin by explaining why there appear to be 18 runes referred to when we know the Younger Futhark or runic alphabet of the time was comprised of 16 letters, and then, once that is accomplished, properly assign one rune to each spell.

I will begin with the 18th runic song.  Note that the translations offered here are from the Carolyne Larrington version of the Poetic Edda.

163

I know an eighteenth, which I shall

never teach to any girl or man’s wife—

it’s always better when just one person knows,

that follows at the end of the spells—

except one woman whom my arms embrace,

or who may be my sister.

The rune meant to attend this charm, as the context makes clear, is a so-called “secret rune”.  Secret runes were used to send or record coded messages.  One rune could be arbitrarily chosen to represent the meaning of another or the rune could actually be altered in appearance to take on a wholly new meaning, one known only to the originator of the coded text.  As such, this spell is not meant to be included in the 16 letter futhark, but is instead to be considered an “extra” rune whose nature cannot possibly be revealed.

This leaves us with 17 songs.  Fortunately, we know that the fourth letter of the Younger Futhark, /a/, could have two meanings.  It could represent ass, ‘god’ (perhaps, in particular, Odin himself), or it could stand for oss, ‘estuary, mouth’.  If we allow for both of these definitions for /a/ being found in the eighteen spells, which we have already reduced to seventeen, then we would be permitted to claim that, in reality, only sixteen runes belong to Havamal.

[The /u/ rune in the Younger Futhark means ‘slag, drizzle’, but in the Elder Futhark it appears to have been defined as “aurochs”, the wild ancestor of domestic cattle.  I don’t think this meaning was still significant for the inhabitants of late medieval Iceland, and probably it was no longer even recognized.  Domestic cattle as a measurement of wealth fell under the /f/ rune, and the Icelandic Runic Poem specifically describes /u/ as “lamentation of the clouds and ruin of the hay-harvest and abomination of the shepherd.”]

Assuming this to be true, I will proceed with an examination of the remaining seventeen spells.

146

I know those spells which a ruler’s wife doesn’t know,

nor any man’s son;

‘help’ one is called,

and that will help you

against accusations and sorrows

and every sort of anxiety.

This, of course, is for the /n/ or naudr rune, ‘need, necessity, distress’.

147

I know a second one which the sons of men need,

those who want to live as physicians.

The /k/ or kaun rune, ‘sore, ulcer.’

148

I know a third one which is very useful to me,

which fetters my enemy;

the edges of my foes I can blunt,

neither weapon nor club will bite for them.

The /t/ or Tyr rune, said in the literature to have been applied to blades.  We can assume that such a rune would have an apotropaic function against the enemy in addition to providing power and resilience to one’s own weapons.

149

I know a fourth one if men put

chains upon my limbs;

I can chant so that I can walk away,

fetters spring from my feet,

and bonds form my hands.

The ‘fetters’ referred to here are usually thought of as the battle-fear that freezes a person, immobilizing them even if just for a split second so that they can more easily be dispatched.  For this reason I would say the appropriate rune is /i/, ‘ice’.

150

I know a fifth if I see, shot in malice,

a dart flying amid the army,

it cannot fly so fast that I cannot stop it

if I see it with my eyes.

The word dart here (flein in the Old Norse text) means also shaft, pike and the like, and so we must look for a corresponding potentially damaging natural force that could mimic such a weapon.  Hail is our best bet, and so I would risk attaching the /h/ rune to this spell.   Poetic kennings often refer to missile weapons in terms of weather phenomena, as in ‘hail of battle’.

151

I know a sixth one if a man wounds me

with the roots of the sap-filled wood:

and that man who conjured to harm me,

the evil consumes him, not me.

The /y/ or ‘yew, yew bow’ rune.  The yew in European tradition is the tree of death.

152

I know a seventh one if I see towering flames

in the hall of my companions:

it can’t burn so widely that I can’t counteract it,

I know the spells to chant.

Water is the opposing element to fire, so the rune for this song is /l/, ‘water’.

153

I know an eighth one, which is most useful

for everyone to know;

where hatred flares up between the sons of warriors,

then I can quickly bring settlement.

The most commonly cited cause of such strife is gold or wealth (also cattle), and so the /f/ rune belongs here.  Wergild was money offered for settlement in the case of a slaying and payment could also be offered to compensate for other slights involving personal or family honor.

154

I know a ninth one if I am in need,

if I must protect my ship at sea;

the wind I can lull upon the wave

and [sic] quieten all the sea to sleep.

The wind in the primitive, pre-scientific mind was related to breath, and for this reason I would tentatively place the first /a/ rune here, i.e. ‘estuary or mouth’, as the breath is drawn in and out of the mouth.

155

I know a tenth one if I see witches

playing up in the air;

I can bring it about that they can’t make their way back

to their own shapes

to their own spirits.

The /u/ rune is ‘slag, drizzle’.  By drizzle here is meant cold rain that freezes upon contact with the ground.  Slag, of course, is similar in the sense that it is a by-product of the ore smelting process that runs off in liquid form only to harden when it cools.  If we metaphorically view the spirits of the witches as being transformed into drizzle, then they have effectively been prevented from returning home to their bodies (which would be lying in trance).

156

I know an eleventh one if I have to lead

loyal friends into battle;

under the shields I chant, and they journey inviolate,

safely to the battle

safely from the battle

safely they come everywhere.

The shield in Norse mythopoeic language is referred to as the sun.  So the /s/ rune, ‘sun’, belongs here.

157

I know a twelfth one if I see, up in a tree,

a dangling corpse in a noose:

I can so carve and colour the runes

that the man walks

and talks with me.

Odin’s “riding” on the gallows-tree Yggdrasill, and poetic use of “riding” for men on the “horse” known as the gallows-tree,  strongly suggests the rune for this song should be /r/, ‘ride, a riding’.

158

I know a thirteenth if I shall pour water

over a young warrior:

he will not fall though he goes into battle,

before swords he will not sink.

One might think this is for water, the /l/ rune, but given the emphasis on youth we can point to the letter /b/ for ‘birch’, a tree in European tradition that symbolized birth and beginnings.  Here the young warrior should be seen as being “watered” like a new birth tree.  In the poetic kennings, warriors are often likened to trees.  The first man and woman in the world were created from trees.

159

I know a fourteenth if I have to reckon up [give the number of]

the gods before men:

Æsir and elves, I know the difference between them,

few who are not wise know that.

The other /a/ rune, namely ‘ass’ or “god [= Odin?]”.  It is Odin as the triune god who in Snorri Sturlusson’s “Gylfaginning” enumerates and describes the gods.

160

I know a fifteenth, which the dwarf Thiodrerir

chanted before Delling’s doors:

powerfully he sang for the Æsir and before the elves,

wisdom to Sage.

Delling, whose name may mean ‘the shining one’ (see Rudolf Simek’s Dictionary of Northern Mythology), is here chanting before the doors of the mountain or barrow, both being symbolic of the earth into which heavenly bodies pass, seed is planted and to which men go in death  - and from which all is ultimately reborn.  In fact, Thiodrerir has been etymologized as ‘the famous one in the burial mound’ (see again Simek).  The song is probably for a plentiful harvest, a good year, and thus a fertility charm.  The letter /a/ (for ar, not ass), ‘good harvest, plenty’, can be linked to this song. See H.R. Ellis Davidson’s “Myths and Symbols in Pagan Europe” (p. 104) for the spirit known as the ar-madr in Icelandic saga.  This scholar says: “ar means harvest or season, and the implication is that the being in the stone could bring about a prosperous harvest.”

161

I know a sixteenth if I want to have all

a clever woman’s heart and love-play:

I can turn the thoughts of the white-armed woman

and change her mind entirely.

We know from the Eddic poem “Skirnismal” that the /th/ rune, ‘thurs’ or ‘giant’, causes “lust” and “burning” and “unbearable need” to women (or at least to goddesses!).  For that reason, we can place that letter here.

162

I know a seventeenth, so that scarcely any

young girl will want to shun me…

This is the ‘m’ or ‘man’ rune, the symbol of male virility.  The idea is, obviously, that young women cannot resist handsome, strong, well-endowed men, who are the human incarnation of the god, just as the woman is the avatar of the goddess.

It might, of course, be possible to arrange the runic letters differently in accordance with the “Havamal” songs.  It is also quite possible that instead of one runic letter being designated by each song, there originally were entire runic formulas composed of multiple letters, a phrase or even entire sentences.  If either of these alternatives hold true, then what I have offered above is quite worthless.  My suggestions are just that and sometimes a ‘best guess’ is merely a method for deriving the wrong answer to an unfathomable riddle.

ROBIN HOOD, HOTT/ODIN, HAETHCYN AND HOD: AN ANCIENT GERMANIC PROTOTYPE FOR THE OUTLAW LEGEND?

Several attempts have been made to link the legendary Robin Hood, the most famous folk hero of England, with pagan entities.  The problem with all of them is precisely that we have what looks to be, on the surface at least, quite sufficient evidence for this personage as a historical character (or characters).  Nice, online summaries of the historical candidates for Robin Hood may be found on these pages:

http://www.boldoutlaw.com/realrob/realrob2.html

http://www.robinhood.ltd.uk/robinhood/candidates.html

http://www.robinhood.ltd.uk/robinhood/theorigins.html

While history does make a good case for Robin Hood, scholars concede that as the legend evolved all kinds of folkloristic accretions became manifest.  Here I would like to explore only one aspect of the legend – the name Hood itself.  It may be that an exploration of the etymology of this name, and its possible very early presence in the English landscape, may help us towards finding a truly ancient pagan element preserved in the later tradition.

To begin, it is generally agreed that Hood means exactly that – a hood, or perhaps ‘the Hooded One’ in the context of a personal name.  This would be from Old English hod and the name is spelled this way in early records.  In Old Norse the word is found as hottr.  As has been pointed out before in the context of the Robin Hood legend, Hottr is a name for the god Odin when he is travelling in disguise.  This Viking deity is also called Sidhottr or ‘long/hanging/deep hood’.

The Nottinghamshire of Robin Hood was in the Viking Danelaw.  It is, of course, in this part of England that we tend to find the most relics of Norse paganism embedded in place-names.  A curious example of such may be Hodsock.  The name means (according to Ekwall) ‘Hod’s Oak’, Hod supposedly being an Old English personal name found in other places such as a second Hodsock in Worcestershire (which bordered on the Danelaw), Hodcott, Hoddesdon, Hoddington, Hoddlesden, Hodnell and Hodson.

The interesting thing about the Nottinghamshire Hodsock is that not only is it found pretty much directly between Robin Hood’s two forests of Sherwood and Barnsdale (in contradistinction to the ‘Major Oak’ associated with Robin, which is squarely in Sherwood Forest), but the name is recorded as early as the time of the Domesday Book, i.e. 1086.  Such a date for the name greatly predates our records for the historical Robin Hood.

Now, the real question is what to make of the name Hod as it is found in the place-name Hodsoch.  As the same element is found in places well outside of the Danelaw, we must accept the fact that there is probably an Old English origin for the personal name.  Pagan Anglo-Saxon religion was much akin to the Norse and, therefore, we might be allowed to surmise for the sake of argument that at some point in their history the pre-Christian Anglo-Saxons also knew of Odin as ‘the hooded one’.

However, as Norse mythology makes plain, the oak was NOT Odin’s tree. His sacred tree was the ash.  The oak has always been the tree of the thunder god, who in Anglo-Saxon tradition was Thunor and in the Viking Thor.

The oak is linked in reality and in mythology with the mistletoe, and we are instantly reminded of the myth of the Norse god Hodr, slayer of Balder.  Hodr is a blind god whose aim of the mistletoe spear (in some later versions an arrow!) is directed by Loki.  This weapon kills Balder, who was impervious to injury by anything else.

Hodr is believed to mean ‘war, slaughter’ (cf. Old Icelandic hod, OE headu-/heado-, ‘war, battle’, OHG hadu-, ‘fight’, MHG hader, ‘quarrel, strife’).  The etymology of Balder is uncertain, although it may be related (see Simek) to ON baldr, OHG bald, ‘bold’.  I will explore in a moment why this possible meaning for the name of Hodr’s victim may be significant.

Elsewhere, I’ve shown that Hodr not only has a strong affinity with Thor (for the mistletoe taken from the Jupiter/thunder god’s tree is emblematic of the divine lightning weapon, found both in the form of Thor’s hammer Mjollnir and Odin’s spear Gungnir), but with All-father as well (Odin is not only missing an eye, but is known by the name Tviblindi, ‘blind in both eyes’). It is not inconceivable that at some point in the process of legend-making the god Hottr/Hod, viz. Odin, became confused with Hodr.

It may even be that the famous – though unnamed – Sheriff of Nottingham can be brought into this picture.  The very first “sheriff”, if such he may be called, was one Hugh fitz Baldric.  We can learn a great deal about him from consulting sources such as these:

http://books.google.com/books?id=Nog9_GJqFZQC&pg=PA37&lpg=PA37&dq=Hugh+fitz+Baldric&source=bl&ots=ffzMK0Axfb&sig=lL1HgcKxB7iDLWkJ5tERpjtjaz0&hl=en&sa=X&ei=C2TZUt39Js3xoASL9oGYAg&ved=0CC8Q6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q=Hugh%20fitz%20Baldric&f=false

http://www.apl385.com/gilling/history/chapter8.htm

http://books.google.com/books?id=uiUScMEkEGoC&pg=PA35&lpg=PA35&dq=Hugh+fitz+Baldric+archer&source=bl&ots=r81IdK-kMb&sig=z7vQfehXzyXK_nLgpkf9VYwc9_0&hl=en&sa=X&ei=GWXZUsbWD4nhoASgoYCgCQ&ved=0CEIQ6AEwBA#v=onepage&q=Hugh%20fitz%20Baldric%20archer&f=false

The name Baldric is to be derived from the same Bald, ‘bold’, we discussed briefly above, plus the common name component –ric, meaning roughly ‘ruler’.  Hugh (or another man of the same name?) was thought to be not only German, but an archer.

We thus have a man set over the region known to be the home of the later historical Robin Hood whose patronymic resembled to an uncanny degree the name of the god Balder. A region where the god Hottr/Hod, perhaps conflated with Hodr, may have left an imprint.

For any of this to work, however, we must ask whether the Anglo-Saxons even knew of the god Hodr.  Fortunately for us, there is some evidence that they may well have possessed knowledge of the Hodr-Balder myth.

From John Lindow’s “Murder and Vengeance Among the Gods”:

“Killings within the family turn up with considerable frequency throughout Germanic heroic literature. Perhaps the richest case of homicide between full brothers is the accidental slaying of Herebeald by Haeðcyn in Beowulf 2425-72, an analogue that has long been part of the Baldr dossier because of the similarities of the name components, -beald and Haeð-, to the names of the main players in the Scandinavian versions, and the fact that a projectile was used in both cases. The parallels, however, go beyond the names and flying agent of death. Like Baldr, Herebeald enters the story only to be cut down, but, like Hötherus, Haeðcyn plays a role in legendary history, for he was killed in battle by Ongenðeow at Hrefnuwudu. Herebeald and Haeðcyn are the sons of King Hreðel of the Geats, father of Hygelac and grandfather of Beowulf and thus in the poem the founder of the dynasty, just as Óðinn stands atop his dynastic line. The _griðastaðr_ of Gylfaginning is repeated in the incident in Beowulf — clarified by the focus on the intolerable situation created by this slaying within a family.

That was an inexpiable quarrel, a great wrong,

heart-wearying; nevertheless, the noble had to

depart from life unavenged.

“The poet likens the position of Hreðel to that of a old man who sees his son swinging on the gallows and gives in to his sorrow. A few lines later, Hreðel tums his face to the wall:

Then with that sorrow, which affected him so greatly, he gave up the joys of men, chose the light of God, he left to his sons, as a happy man does, his lands and ancestral towns, when he went from life.

“With the death of Hreðel comes chaos, as the tribe of Ongenðeow of the Swedes attacks the Geats. Bad as this appears to be, it offers an opportunity for vengeance to occur as it should. Haeðcyn, now king of the Geats, dies in this unrest, apparently at the hands of Ongonðeow. The sole surviving brother is Hygelac.

“In the long scholarly record on Baldr and on Beowulf, various scenarios have been proposed to account for the relationship between the Herebeald-Haeðcyn episode and the myth of Baldr’s death. Neckel (1920) thought that the incident at Hreðel’s court, which he assumed to be based on a real accident, was influenced by the Baldr myth to assume the form it took; Nerman (1915) and Malone (1962) argued that the myth may have been influenced by the historical event. The latest word appears to be that of Dronke (1968), who finds in the Herebeald-Haeðcyn episode possible evidence that the Beowulf poet had access to at least some of the Norse myths. Clunies Ross (1994) declines to take a position, but notes that “the core elements of the myth are all present” in Beowulf. These include the problem of a dynastic crisis: Herebeald is Hreðel’s oldest son, and the kingdom is invaded soon after Hreðel’s death. For Clunies Ross this is a center of the myth: Baldr is likely to be Óðinn’s oldest son and presumptive heir; as a result of the incident Óðinn loses both Baldr and another heir, Höðr; he is forced to dispatch a third heir, Hermóðr, on a fruitless journey to the underworld; finally he must sire Váli for the purpose of vengeance.”

Here is the complete passage from Beowulf (lines 2430-2440, Seamus Heaney translation):

King Hrethel kept me and took care of me,

Was open-handed, behaved like a kinsman.

While I was his ward, he treated me no worse

As a wean about the place than one of his own boys,

Herebeald and Haethcyn, or my own Hygelac.

For the eldest, Herebeald, an unexpected

Deathbed was laid out, through a brother’s doing,

When Haethcyn bent his horn-tipped bow

And loosed the arrow that destroyed his life.

He shot wide and buried a shaft

In the flesh and blood of his own brother.

Admittedly, any such connection of this very ancient mythic material to the Robin Hood legend must be considered extremely tangential.  One might say it could represent only part of the substratum of the folkloristic overlay that came to dominate the kernel of historical truth.   In any case, none of what I’ve tentatively proposed above can be convincingly proven.  Nor should it be sanctified by the dictates of neopagan zeal.  Instead, it is my hope that future researchers may find my ideas worth pursuing as a departure point on their own quest for the elusive outlaw.

For those who are interested, I’ve pasted below the Icelandic and Danish versions of the story of Hodr and Balder.  The first translation is by Anthony Faulkes from Edda Snorra Sturlusonar [i.e., the Edda of Snorri Sturluson], London: Dent, 1987. The second is an edited version of Oliver Elton’s 1905 translation of the tale (courtesy http://mythsoftheworld.blogspot.com/2012/01/saxos-death-of-balder.html).

SNORRI’S DEATH OF BALDER

[T]he beginning of this story is that Balder the Good dreamed great dreams boding peril to his life. And when he told the Æsir the dreams they took counsel together and it was decided to request immunity for Balder from all kinds of danger, and Frigg received solemn promises so that Balder should not be banned by fire and water, iron and all kinds of metal, stones, the earth, trees, diseases, the animals, the birds, poison, snakes. And when this was done and confirmed, then it became an entertainment for Balder and the Æsir that he should stand up at assemblies and all the others should either shoot at him or strike at him or throw stones at him. But whatever they did he was unharmed, and they all thought this a great glory. But when Loki Laufeyiarson saw this he was not pleased that Balder was unharmed. He went to Fensalir to Frigg and changed his appearance to that of a woman. Then Frigg asked this woman if she knew what the Æsir were doing at the assembly. She said that everyone was shooting at Balder, and moreover that he was unharmed. Then said Frigg: “Weapons and wood will not hurt Balder. I have received oaths from them all.”

Then the woman asked: “Have all things sworn oaths not to harm Balder?”

Then Frigg replied: “There grows a shoot of a tree to the west of Valhalla. It is called mistletoe. It seemed young to me to demand the oath from.”

Straight away the woman disappeared. And Loki took mistletoe and plucked it and went to the assembly. Hod was standing at the edge of the circle of people, for he was blind. Then Loki said to him: “Why are you not shooting at Balder?”

He replied: “Because I cannot see where Balder is, and secondly because I have no weapon.”

Then said Loki: “Follow other people’s example and do Balder honor like other people. I will direct you to where he is standing. Shoot at him this stick.”

Hod took the mistletoe and shot at Balder at Loki’s direction. The missile flew through him and he fell dead to the ground, and this was the unluckiest deed ever done among gods and men. When Balder had fallen, then all the Æsir’s tongues failed them, as did their hands for lifting him up, and they all looked at each other and were all of one mind towards the one who had done the deed. But no one could take vengeance, it was a place of such sanctuary.

When the Æsir tried to speak then what happened first was that weeping came out, so that none could tell another in words of his grief. But it was Odin who took this injury the hardest in that he had the best idea what great deprivation and loss the death of Balder would cause the Æsir. And when the gods came to themselves then Frigg spoke, and asked who there was among the Æsir who wished to earn all her love and favor and was willing to ride the road to Hel and try if he could find Balder, and offer Hel >> note 1 a ransom if she would let Balder go back to Asgard. Hermod the Bold, Odin’s boy, is the name of the one who undertook this journey. Then Odin’s horse Sleipnir was fetched and led forward and Hermod mounted this horse and galloped away. So the Æsir took Balder’s body and carried it to the sea. Hringhorni was the name of Balder’s ship. It was the biggest of all ships. This the Æsir planned to launch and perform on it Balder’s funeral. . . . Then Balder’s body was carried out on to the ship, and when his wife Nanna Nep’s daughter saw this she collapsed with grief and died. She was carried on to the pyre and it was set on fire. . . .

Balder’s horse was led onto the pyre with all its harness. But there is this to tell of Hermod that he rode for nine nights through valleys dark and deep so that he saw nothing until he came to the river Gioll and rode on to Gioll bridge. It is covered with glowing gold. There is a maiden guarding the bridge called Modgud. She asked him his name and lineage and said that the other day there had ridden over the bridge five battalions of dead men:

“But the bridge resounds no less under just you, and you do not have the color of dead men. Why are you riding here on the road to Hel?”

He replied: “I am to ride to Hel to seek Balder. But have you seen anything of Balder on the road to Hel?”

And she said that Balder had ridden there over Gioll bridge, “but downwards and northwards lies the road to Hel.”

Then Hermod rode on until he came to Hel’s gates. Then he dismounted from the horse and tightened its girth, mounted and spurred it on. The horse jumped so hard and over the gate that it came nowhere near. Then Hermod rode up to the hall and dismounted from his horse, went into the hall, saw sitting there in the seat of honor his brother Balder; and Hermod stayed there the night. In the morning Hermod begged from Hel that Balder might ride home with him and said what great weeping there was among the Æsir. But Hel said that it must be tested whether Balder was as beloved as people said in the following way, “And if all things in the world, alive and dead, weep for him, then he shall go back to the Æsir, but be kept with Hel if any objects or refuses to weep.”

Then Hermod got up and Balder went with him out of the hall. . . . Then Hermod rode back on his way and came to Asgard and told all the tidings he had seen and heard.

After this the Æsir sent over all the world messengers to request that Balder be wept out of Hel. And all did this, the people and animals and the earth and the stones and trees and every metal, just as you will have seen that these things weep when they come out of frost and into heat. When the envoys were traveling back having well fulfilled their errand, they found in a certain cave a giantess sitting. She said her name was Thanks. They bade her weep Balder out of Hel. She said, “Thanks will weep dry tears for Balder’s burial. No good got I from the old one’s son either dead or alive. Let Hel hold what she has.” It is presumed that this was Loki Laufeyiarson, who has done most evil among the Æsir.

SAXO’S DEATH OF BALDER

In Book Three of his Gesta Danorum, the Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus tells an alternate version of the death of the Norse god Baldr. In Saxo’s version, Baldr is a demigod, killed by a mortal rival for a maiden’s hand in marriage.

When Helgi had slain Hodbrodd, his son Hother passed the length of his boyhood under the tutelage of King Gewar. While a stripling, he excelled in strength of body all his foster-brethren and compeers. Moreover, he was gifted with many accomplishments of mind. He was very skilled in swimming and archery, and also with the gloves; and further was as nimble as such a youth could be, his training being equal to his strength. Though his years were unripe, his richly-dowered spirit surpassed them. None was more skilful on lyre or harp; and he was cunning on the timbrel, on the lute, and in every modulation of string instruments. With his changing measures he could sway the feelings of men to what passions he would; he knew how to fill human hearts with joy or sadness, with pity or with hatred, and used to enwrap the soul with the delight or terror of the ear. All these accomplishments of the youth pleased Nanna, the daughter of Gewar, mightily, and she began to seek his embraces. For the valour of a youth will often kindle a maid, and the courage of those whose looks are not so winning is often acceptable. For love hath many avenues; the path of pleasure is opened to some by grace, to others by bravery of soul, and to some by skill in accomplishments. Courtesy brings to some stores of Love, while most are commended by brightness of beauty. Nor do the brave inflict a shallower wound on maidens than the comely.

Now it befell that Balder the son of Odin was troubled at the sight of Nanna bathing, and was seized with boundless love. He was kindled by her fair and lustrous body, and his heart was set on fire by her manifest beauty; for nothing excites passion like comeliness. Therefore he resolved to slay with the sword Hother, who, he feared, was likeliest to baulk his wishes; so that his love, which brooked no postponement, might not be delayed in the enjoyment of its desire by any obstacle.

About this time Hother chanced, while hunting, to be led astray by a mist, and he came on a certain lodge in which were wood-maidens; and when they greeted him by his own name, he asked who they were. They declared that it was their guidance and government that mainly determined the fortunes of war. For they often invisibly took part in battles, and by their secret assistance won for their friends the coveted victories. They averted, indeed, that they could win triumphs and inflict defeats as they would; and further told him how Balder had seen his foster-sister Nanna while she bathed, and been kindled with passion for her; but counselled Hother not to attack him in war, worthy as he was of his deadliest hate, for they declared that Balder was a demigod, sprung secretly from celestial seed. When Hother had heard this, the place melted away and left him shelterless, and he found himself standing in the open and out in the midst of the fields, without a vestige of shade. Most of all he marvelled at the swift flight of the maidens, the shifting of the place, and the delusive semblance of the building. For he knew not that all that had passed around him had been a mere mockery and an unreal trick of the arts of magic.

Returning thence, he related to Gewar the mystification that had followed on his straying, and straightway asked him for his daughter. Gewar answered that he would most gladly favour him, but that he feared if he rejected Balder he would incur his wrath; for Balder, he said, had proffered him a like request. For he said that the sacred strength of Balder’s body was proof even against steel; adding, however, that he knew of a sword which could deal him his death, which was fastened up in the closest bonds; this was in the keeping of Miming, the Satyr of the woods, who also had a bracelet of a secret and marvellous virtue, that used to increase the wealth of the owner. Moreover, the way to these regions was impassable and filled with obstacles, and therefore hard for mortal men to travel. For the greater part of the road was perpetually beset with extraordinary cold. So he advised him to harness a car with reindeer, by means of whose great speed he could cross the hard-frozen ridges. And when he had got to the place, he should set up his tent away from the sun in such wise that it should catch the shadow of the cave where Miming was wont to be; while he should not in return cast a shade upon Miming, so that no unaccustomed darkness might be thrown and prevent the Satyr from going out. Thus both the bracelet and the sword would be ready to his hand, one being attended by fortune in wealth and the other by fortune in war, and each of them thus bringing a great prize to the owner. Thus much said Gewar; and Hother was not slow to carry out his instructions. Planting his tent in the manner aforesaid, he passed the nights in anxieties and the days in hunting. But through either season he remained very wakeful and sleepless, allotting the divisions of night and day so as to devote the one to reflection on events, and to spend the other in providing food for his body. Once as he watched all night, his spirit was drooping and dazed with anxiety, when the Satyr cast a shadow on his tent. Aiming a spear at him, he brought him down with the blow, stopped him, and bound him, while he could not make his escape. Then in the most dreadful words he threatened him with the worst, and demanded the sword and bracelets. The Satyr was not slow to tender him the ransom of his life for which he was asked. So surely do all prize life beyond wealth; for nothing is ever cherished more among mortals than the breath of their own life. Hother, exulting in the treasure he had gained, went home enriched with trophies which, though few, were noble.

Balder entered the country of Gewar armed, in order to sue for Nanna. Gewar bade him learn Nanna’s own mind; so he approached the maiden with the most choice and cajoling words; and when he could win no hearing for his prayers, he persisted in asking the reason of his refusal. She replied that a god could not wed with a mortal, because the vast difference of their natures prevented any bond of intercourse. Also the gods sometimes used to break their pledges; and the bond contracted between unequals was apt to snap suddenly. There was no firm tie between those of differing estate; for beside the great, the fortunes of the lowly were always dimmed. Also lack and plenty dwelt in diverse tents, nor was there any fast bond of intercourse between gorgeous wealth and obscure poverty. In fine, the things of earth would not mate with those of heaven, being sundered by a great original gulf through a difference in nature; inasmuch as mortal man was infinitely far from the glory of the divine majesty. With this shuffling answer she eluded the suit of Balder, and shrewdly wove excuses to refuse his hand.

When Hother heard this from Gewar, he complained long to Helgi of Balder’s insolence. Both were in doubt as to what should be done, and beat their brains over divers plans; for converse with a friend in the day of trouble, though it removes not the peril, yet makes the heart less sick. Amid all the desires of their souls the passion of valour prevailed, and a naval battle was fought with Balder. One would have thought it a contest of men against gods, for Odin and Thor and the holy array of the gods fought for Balder. There one could have beheld a war in which divine and human might were mingled. But Hother was clad in his steel-defying tunic, and charged the closest bands of the gods, assailing them as vehemently as a son of earth could assail the powers above. However, Thor was swinging his club with marvellous might, and shattered all interposing shields, calling as loudly on his foes to attack him as upon his friends to back him up. No kind of armour withstood his onset; no man could receive his stroke and live. Whatsoever his blow fended off it crushed; neither shield nor helm endured the weight of its dint; no greatness of body or of strength could serve. Thus the victory would have passed to the gods, but that Hother, though his line had already fallen back, darted up, hewed off the club at the haft, and made it useless. And the gods, when they had lost this weapon, fled incontinently.

As for Balder, he took to flight and was saved. The conquerors either hacked his ships with their swords or sunk them in the sea; not content to have defeated gods, they pursued the wrecks of the fleet with such rage, as if they would destroy them to satiate their deadly passion for war. Thus doth prosperity commonly whet the edge of licence. The haven, recalling by its name Balder’s flight, bears witness to the war. Gelder, the King of Saxony, who met his end in the same war, was set by Hother upon the corpses of his oarsmen, and then laid on a pyre built of vessels, and magnificently honoured in his funeral by Hother, who not only put his ashes in a noble barrow, treating them as the remains of a king, but also graced them with most reverent obsequies. Then, to prevent any more troublesome business delaying his hopes of marriage, he went back to Gewar and enjoyed the coveted embraces of Nanna. Next, having treated Helgi and Thora very generously, he brought his new queen back to Sweden, being as much honoured by all for his victory as Balder was laughed at for his flight.

At this time the nobles of the Swedes repaired to Denmark to pay their tribute; but Hother, who had been honoured as a king by his countrymen for the splendid deeds of his father, experienced what a lying pander Fortune is. For he was conquered in the field by Balder, whom a little before he had crushed, and was forced to flee to Gewar, thus losing while a king that victory which he had won as a common man. The conquering Balder, in order to slake his soldiers, who were parched with thirst, with the blessing of a timely draught, pierced the earth deep and disclosed a fresh spring. The thirsty ranks made with gaping lips for the water that gushed forth everywhere. The traces of these springs, eternised by the name, are thought not quite to have dried up yet, though they have ceased to well so freely as of old. Balder was continually harassed by night phantoms feigning the likeness of Nanna, and fell into such ill health that he could not so much as walk, and began the habit of going his journeys in a two horse car or a four-wheeled carriage. So great was the love that had steeped his heart and now had brought him down almost to the extremity of decline. For he thought that his victory had brought him nothing if Nanna was not his prize. Also Frey, the regent of the gods, took his abode not far from Uppsala, where he exchanged for a ghastly and infamous sin-offering the old custom of prayer by sacrifice, which had been used by so many ages and generations. For he paid to the gods abominable offerings, by beginning to slaughter human victims.

Meantime Hother learned that Denmark lacked leaders, and that Hiartuar had swiftly expiated the death of Rolf; and he used to say that chance had thrown into his hands that to which he could scarce have aspired. Thereupon he took possession, with a very great fleet, of Isefjord, a haven of Zealand, so as to make use of his impending fortune. There the people of the Danes met him and appointed him king; and a little after, on hearing of the death of his brother Athisl, whom he had bidden rule the Swedes, he joined the Swedish empire to that of Denmark.

While Hother was in Sweden, Balder also came to Zealand with a fleet; and since he was thought to be rich in arms and of singular majesty, the Danes accorded him with the readiest of voices whatever he asked concerning the supreme power. With such wavering judgment was the opinion of our forefathers divided. Hother returned from Sweden and attacked him. They both coveted sway, and the keenest contest for the sovereignty began between them; but it was cut short by the flight of Hother. He retired to Jutland, and caused to be named after him the village in which he was wont to stay. Here he passed the winter season, and then went back to Sweden alone and unattended. There he summoned the grandees, and told them that he was weary of the light of life because of the misfortunes wherewith Balder had twice victoriously stricken him. Then he took farewell of all, and went by a circuitous path to a place that was hard of access, traversing forests uncivilised. For it oft happens that those upon whom has come some inconsolable trouble of spirit seek, as though it were a medicine to drive away their sadness, far and sequestered retreats, and cannot bear the greatness of their grief amid the fellowship of men; so dear, for the most part, is solitude to sickness. For filthiness and grime are chiefly pleasing to those who have been stricken with ailments of the soul. Now he had been wont to give out from the top of a hill decrees to the people when they came to consult him; and hence when they came they upbraided the sloth of the king for hiding himself, and his absence was railed at by all with the bitterest complaints.

But Hother, when he had wandered through remotest byways and crossed an uninhabited forest, chanced to come upon a cave where some maidens whom he knew not dwelt; but they proved to be the same who had once given him the invulnerable coat. Asked by them wherefore he had come thither, he related the disastrous issue of the war. So he began to bewail the ill luck of his failures and his dismal misfortunes, condemning their breach of faith, and lamenting that it had not turned out for him as they had promised him. But the maidens said that though he had seldom come off victorious, he had nevertheless inflicted as much defeat on the enemy as they on him, and had dealt as much carnage as he had shared in. Moreover, the favour of victory would be speedily his, if he could first lay hands upon a food of extraordinary delightsomeness which had been devised to increase the strength of Balder. For nothing would be difficult if he could only get hold of the dainty which was meant to enhance the rigour of his foe.

Hard as it sounded for earthborn endeavours to make armed assault upon the gods, the words of the maidens inspired Hother’s mind with instant confidence to fight with Balder. Also some of his own people said that he could not safely contend with those above; but all regard for their majesty was expelled by the boundless fire of his spirit. For in brave souls vehemence is not always sapped by reason, nor doth counsel defeat rashness. Or perchance it was that Hother remembered how the might of the lordliest oft proves unstable, and how a little clod can batter down great chariots.

On the other side, Balder mustered the Danes to arms and met Hother in the field. Both sides made a great slaughter; the carnage of the opposing parties was nearly equal, and night stayed the battle. About the third watch, Hother, unknown to any man, went out to spy upon the enemy, anxiety about the impending peril having banished sleep. This strong excitement favours not bodily rest, and inward disquiet suffers not outward repose. So, when he came to the camp of the enemy he heard that three maidens had gone out carrying the secret feast of Balder. He ran after them (for their footsteps in the dew betrayed their flight), and at last entered their accustomed dwelling. When they asked him who he was, he answered, a lutanist, nor did the trial belie his profession. For when the lyre was offered him, he tuned its strings, ordered and governed the chords with his quill, and with ready modulation poured forth a melody pleasant to the ear. Now they had three snakes, of whose venom they were wont to mix a strengthening compound for the food of Balder, and even now a flood of slaver was dripping on the food from the open mouths of the serpents. And some of the maidens would, for kindness sake, have given Hother a share of the dish, had not eldest of the three forbidden them, declaring that Balder would be cheated if they increased the bodily powers of his enemy. He had said, not that he was Hother, but that he was one of his company. Now the same nymphs, in their gracious kindliness, bestowed on him a belt of perfect sheen and a girdle which assured victory.

Retracing the path by which he had come, he went back on the same road, and meeting Balder plunged his sword into his side, and laid him low half dead. When the news was told to the soldiers, a cheery shout of triumph rose from all the camp of Hother, while the Danes held a public mourning for the fate of Balder. He, feeling no doubt of his impending death, and stung by the anguish of his wound, renewed the battle on the morrow; and, when it raged hotly, bade that he should be borne on a litter into the fray, that he might not seem to die ignobly within his tent. On the night following, Proserpine was seen to stand by him in a vision, and to promise that on the morrow he should have her embrace. The boding of the dream was not idle; for when three days had passed, Balder perished from the excessive torture of his wound; and his body given a royal funeral, the army causing it to be buried in a barrow which they had made.

A NEW IDENTIFICATION OF THE BATTLE OF BRUNANBURH

Several places have been identified over the years with the famous Brunanburh battle first found mentioned in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (with accompanying heroic poem) in the year AD 937. To quote from Wikipedia on this battle:

‘The Battle of Brunanburh was an English victory in 937 by the army of Æthelstan, King of England, and his brother Edmund over the combined armies of Olaf III Guthfrithson, the Norse–Gael King of Dublin; Constantine II, King of Scots; and Owen I, King of Strathclyde. Though relatively little known today, it was called “the greatest single battle in Anglo-Saxon history before the Battle of Hastings.”’

For additional details on the battle, and a splendid listing of all the relevant sources, please see http://www.brunanburh.org.uk/.

To the various candidates for Brunanburh we may add the most recent by Dr. Andrew Breeze, who opts for the Lanchester Roman fort on the River Browney in Durham (http://www.thenorthernecho.co.uk/news/10717666.Lanchester_____birthplace_of_a_unified_kingdom_/).

Currently, the most favored site is Bromborough on the Wirral Peninsula (http://www.nottingham.ac.uk/ncmh/dna/Brunanburh.htm). The case for Bromborough is dependent on two identifications, one of which may well be right, and the other of which is certainly wrong.  It is true that Bromborough would to be the only perfect match etymologically, as its 12th century form Brunburg aptly demonstrates.  The error in the selection of Bromborough has to do with the imaginative creation of ‘Sea of the Thing’ out of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle’s Dingesmere, presumably because of the presence on the Wirral Peninsula of the Norse place-name Thingwall.  The latter is an important part of the puzzle, for the surviving Norsemen fled by or on this “mere” from Brunanburh on their way back to Dublin in Ireland.

What is or, rather, where is Dingesmere? The line immediately following reference to this “sea” describes a passage over “deop waeter” (http://www8.georgetown.edu/departments/medieval/labyrinth/library/oe/texts/a10.1.html; see lines 54-55). The Otho MS of the ASC has Dinnesmere, with din meaning noise.  The related word dynge is defined as ‘a noise, dashing, storm’.

From the authoritative Bosworth and Toller Old English Dictionary:

dynge, dinge, dynige, es; m? A noise, dashing, storm; sonus, strepĭtus, procella :– On dynges mere on the sea of noise, Gst. Rthm. ii. 66, 20; Chr. 937; Th. 206, 12, col. 2. v. dyne

Dingesmere therefore means the noisy or stormy sea, undoubtedly in this case the Irish Sea.  It is NOT an actual place-name, but a poetic descriptor no different than the following ‘deep water’.  Similar poetic descriptions of the sea are found throughout OE poetry.  In works like Beowulf, kennings for the sea abound.

Andrew Breeze (private communication) prefers to see in Dingesmere the ‘Dingle-mere’, despite dingle not being found in the language until Middle English.  He cites J. A. W. Bennett, _Middle English Literature_ (Oxford, 1986), 280, which states of God that ‘his domes the derne [that more secret] beoth ant deopre then eni sea-dingle’; which shows ‘dingle’ used of the abyss of the sea, after the psalm.  However, here the term is again poetic, meaning something like ‘sea-valley’ (as dingle is ‘a deep dell or hollow’, used in place-names of certain valleys).

We then have Florence of Worcester’s Humber reference to wrestle with. Florence is dateable to the late 12th century and he claimed that Anlaf (Olaf) entered the mouth of the Humber.  When I went to the maps and scoured the Humber region, I noticed Anlaby near Kingston-Upon-Hull.  Eilert Ekwall (The Concise Oxford Dictionary of English Place-Names), drawing upon early forms (spellings) long ago showed this place to be Anlaf’s By.  We have no idea who this Anlaf was, but he COULD have been the Anlaf of the Brunanburh battle.  More likely he was a Danelaw settler.  But the mere presence of his name here on the Humber could have led Florence or his source to situate the Brunanburh battle on the Humber.  There is nothing noteworthy about the vicinity around Anlaby, and no reason to think that Brunanburh was once located there.

The Chronicle of Aethelweard was written within living memory of the battle, possible around 975.  It is thus a far more valuable source than that of his successors.  Aethelweard calls the site Brunandun:

“In the year in which the very mighty king Æthelstan enjoyed the crown of empire, 926 years were passed from the glorious incarnation of our Saviour. [939 = 937]  After thirteen years a huge battle was fought against the barbarians at Brunandun, wherefore it is still called the ` great battle’ by the common people. Then the barbarian forces were overcome on all sides, and held the superiority no more. Afterwards he [i.e. the king] drove them off from the shores of the ocean, and the Scots and Picts both submitted.  The fields of Britain were consolidated into one, there was peace everywhere, and abundance of all things, and [since then] no fleet has remained here, having advanced against these shores, except under treaty with the English. [941 = 939] After a period of two years Æthelstan, a king worthy of honour, left the world.”

The Vikings, especially early on, liked to restrict their attacks to coastal districts.  Aethelweard here says they were driven off “from the shores of the ocean”, which implies a coastal or near-coastal location of Brunandun (or Brunanburh).  Dun in OE is a hill, and by extension sometimes (and certainly for the Welsh with their similar word) a fortified hill.  Dr. Andrew Breeze’s Lanchester IS on a ridge, so dun might work in this context.

But why wasn’t Lanchester used?  It was Langecestr in 1196, and while this may show an English ‘long’ plus the usual name used for a old Roman fort, there is little doubt that he English word would have substituted for the first element of Longovicium, the name of the Roman fort at this location.  Hence the name Lanchester is by definition very old and, indeed, must have existed from the sub-Roman period.  So why Brunanburh or Brunandun?

I note from the ASC that in 933/4, just before the Brunanburh battle, Aethelstan is invading Scotland itself by land AND sea, and is said to have be harrying much of the country.  This allows for the possibility, therefore, that Brunanburh may be fairly far north.  It also almost certainly means that trying to place Brunanburh on theWirral Peninsula makes little or no sense.  Aethelstan had seized Northumberland, remember, not the northwestern part of Mercia! Nor does it make any sense for the Scots or the Strathclyde Britons to have participated in a battle on the Wirral.

If we allow for Aethelweard’s early Brunandun, a good candidate emerges BY NAME:

Brandon, Northumberland. This has early forms Bremdona, Bremdon, Bromdun, and such names from ‘broom’ (although note this is on the Breamish, a Celtic river-name containing the same root as Roman Bremenium).  In looking at Ekwall, many of these broom names can occur as Brune, Brun and the like.

http://streetmap.co.uk/map.srf?x=405500&y=617500&z=120&sv=brandon&st=3&tl=Map+of+Brandon+Hillhead,+Northumberland+&searchp=ids.srf&mapp=map.srf

At Brandon (Hillhead) there is an Iron Age hillfort.  This fortified hill is situated less than a mile west of the Devil’s Causeway Roman road.  The area around the Brandon hillfort is full of other forts, some of a major nature.  Several kilometers to the WSW is the impressive Brough Law complex with its satellite forts and settlements, while a few kilometers to the NNE is the Old Bewick hillfort (http://www.northumberlandnationalpark.org.uk/__data/assets/pdf_file/0008/188522/Breamish-Valley-leaflet.pdf).

For the Brandon hillfort itself, here is the entry at English Heritage’s Pastscape:

http://www.pastscape.org.uk/hob.aspx?hob_id=4993&sort=2&type=&typeselect=c&rational=a&class1=None&period=None&county=1306807&district=None&parish=None&place=Brandon&recordsperpage=10&source=text&rtype=&rnumber=

[NU 04371783] Camp [OE] (1)

On Brandon Hill in a plantation about 350 yards south-west of the top of the hll are the remains of a camp. Though situated below the summit it is on a promontory.

(2) Type B2 (49): “Forts on high ground less dependent upon natural slopes for protection”.

(3) The ramparts are destroyed to the east, but elsewhere preserved to the extent of half an acre from which it is conjectured that the original figure was oval of about 65 yards by 45 yards interior.

The earthwork is situated in a cleared plantation on a nearly level shelf on the south west slope of a hill at about 550 feet above sea level. Immediately to the south west are the steep natural slopes of the Brandon Dean (gradient c 1:4), but the work is overlooked at close quarters from the north-east.

Only fragments of the west side of the earthwork now remain, the rest having been completely ploughed out. There are three concentric ramparts partly formed by scarping the natural slope, with the spoil placed on top of the scarp to form a slight bank. In the more level places however there are two medial ditches between the ramparts. A gap to the Northwest, although badly mutilated seems to be the original entrance. There are no traces of internal habitation.

A stream to the west is the nearest source of water.

Although the position is not ideal for defensive purposes it is well concealed – and the number and construction of the banks indicate the work to have been defensive.

The proximity of a cairn (NU 01 NW 11) and finds of bronze weapons (NU 01 NW 13) as well as the construction of the earthwork itself suggests pre-Roman date.

(4) Listed as pre-Roman IA multivallate (forts settlements and enclosures).

(5) Re-surveyed at 1:2500.

(6) NU 044 178. Brandon Hill. Listed in gazetteer as a multivallate hillfort covering (?)0.20ha.

(7) NU 043 179. Brandon Dean camp. Scheduled No ND/258.

(8) An Iron Age multivallate hillfort, centred at NU 0437 1784, is visible as an earthwork on air photographs. Of this feature only the western third survives. The entire east side of the hillfort has been ploughed out. From the remaining portion we can see that the structure consisted of three ramparts and at least two ditches (only two short lengths – to the north – are visible on the air photographs available). The rampart banks are all approximately 2.5m wide. The ditches are almost 3m wide and visible only on the external side of the two outermost ramparts. There appears to be a berm of 4m between a ditch and the next rampart. Towards the north-west there is a gap in the inner two ramparts of 2.5m which may be that recorded as an entrance by authority 4. No internal features are visible on the air photographs available.

(9) For an aerial photograph of the fort, see here:

http://www.pastscape.org.uk/maps.aspx?a=0&hob_id=1381932&criteria=Brandon%20%20Hill%20Head&search=all&rational=q&recordsperpage=10&sort=4&mv=s

Brandon Hillhead fort, then, would be my best guess for the location of Brunandun/Brunanburh.  This location is not far from the coast, and it is in the southern part of Scotland, which was probably that region Aethelstan had invaded a couple years before.  The site is very close to a Roman road as well.

MY TAKE ON THE VINLAND EXPEDITION OF THORFINN KARLSEFNI

By August Hunt

Much ink has been spilled on the possible locations of the various places named in the Norse Vinland sagas.  I’ve decided to spill a bit more.  While no proposed site can be confirmed without archaeological evidence, and multiple candidates are available for selection, I do believe that some probability of likelihood has been established already for the following:

1) We know with absolute certainty that the starting point for Karlsefni’s expedition was the western settlement in Greenland.

2) His first destination was the Bear Islands (or Bear Isle).  A case has been made for Disco Island off the coast of Greenland, but this makes little sense, as that island is significantly to the north of the western settlement.  An alternate case has been made for any grouping of islands on the southern tip of Baffin Island, which would be the logical destination of someone heading directly west to the North American continent.  There are several island groups here on the east side of the Hall Peninsula, any of which could have been the Bear Islands.  The Bear Island now found at the tip of the Hall Peninsula was not named such until 1946.  Before then it was known in the Inuktitut language as Siqinirmiut for the Inuit group of that name (“People of the Sun”). Based on the data presented in this authoritative Website –

http://www.aadnc-aandc.gc.ca/eng/1315677967159/1315678088470

- I would cite the Leybourne Islands, used traditionally as a winter hunting ground for polar bears by the native peoples.  As viewable on maps

(http://www.geographic.org/geographic_names/name.php?uni=-802306&fid=906&c=canada), the Leybournes are EXACTLY opposite the Greenland settlement to the west.  While weather conditions have changed since the time of the Vinland voyages, and hunting practices may also have been altered, this is the best we can do for suggesting Bear Islands as the first stop on Karlsefni’s journey.

Bjarni leaves Iceland, sees one land, then a second, then a third, one with a glacier that he determines is an island.  Then he reaches Greenland. This account reads as a pretty obvious “reversal” of the other voyages, with the first land being Vinland, i.e. Newfoundland, the second Markland or Labrador and the third Helluland or Baffin Island.  Greenland naturally comes next. The question then becomes: could the bear island or bear islands merely be another name for Helluland itself?

Finally, I would mention that the Native Americans called Anticosti Island in the Gulf of St. Lawrence ‘Notiskuan’, meaning “the place where bear are hunted”.

We are told that from Bjarn Islands to Helluland before a northerly wind to takes 2 days, and from Helluland to Markland it takes the same amount of time, also before a northerly wind. So rather than a island or island on the tip of the Hall Peninsula, we perhaps should look to such a place on the end of the Cumberland Peninsula farther to the northeast. According to Christy Ann Davis’s 1999 thesis “A Case Study of Polar Bear Co-Management in the Eastern Canadian Arctic”, the ‘highest density of polar bears [on the end of the Cumberland Peninsula] occurs between Angijak Island and Cape Dyer.’  Angijak Island is itself the largest island in the region.  The fact is that anyone crossing the Davis Strait from Greenland to Baffin Island would first sight the great snow-clad mountains of the southern Cumberland Peninsula (as the explorer Charles Frances Hall did in 1860, when crossing from Holsteinborg in Greenland).  Angijak and surrounding islands happen to lie directly between these mountains and the Greenland western settlement. It stand to reason, therefore, that if the mountains were used as navigational landmarks, the islands would have been reached eventually. But, again, we would be basing the identification of Bear Island with the presence of bears, rather than with a man named “Bear”.

Just south of Cape Dyer on the Cumberland Peninsula, in Exeter Bay, is a large island called Bear Island.  I’m working with the toponymist Pauline Arnatsiaq to determine the original native name of this place.

3) Helluland or “Stone-Slab-Land” is, in general agreement, a designation for Baffin Island (http://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/10.1002/gea.21497/pdf). We have an even firmer fix on the place where the Vikings landed: at the mouth of Frobisher Bay.  To quote from Pall Bergthorsson’s “The Wineland Millenium: Saga and Evidence” (Malog Menning, Reykjavik, 2000) on the ‘black ore’ the explorer found in this place:

“They are often found in the form of blocks or slabs, with vertical strriations.  The largest of the slabs weighs at least nine tons, and measures 1-3 meters each way, so it is not unreasonable to say [as the saga does] that two men might ‘lie foot-to-foot across them.’ [The slabs] undeniably… fit the description of the large slabs from which Helluland drew its name.”

From here on things get more difficult, and with the exception of Markland for Labrador, there is much continued debate. I consider all that follows mere guesswork and would not venture to defend it against rival theorists.

4) Bjarn or ‘Bear’ Island. It is worth pointing out that this place is said to lie off Markland or Labrador (according to one MS., to the south and then to the southeast of Helluland). It cannot, therefore, be the Bear Islands already discussed, which clearly lie somewhere between Helluland/Baffin Island and Greenland.  Yet it still has to be pretty far north, as Keelsness or Cape Porcupine (see below) is somewhat south of it. There are a great many islands here off the coast of Labrador and so it is quite impossible to know which is the right one. The saga assures us only that 2 more days south of this Bear Island lay Cape Porcupine/Keelsness.  If the island is approximately equidistant from the northernmost tip of Labrador and Cape Porcupine, it may be one of those very large islands found offshore from Nain or the North River.

And, indeed, this the area where polar bears concentrated, and even denned.  According to Joe Brazil and Jim Goudie (A 5 Year Management Plan 2006-2011 for the Polar Bear/Nanuk in Newfoundland and Labrador, 2006), “Inuit have reported polar bear denning sites on the Nanuktut Islands, Soapstone Island [just NW of Nanuktut/White Bear Islands]… and North Aulatsivik Island [just NW of Nain].”  Bryan C. Hood (in Archaeological Surveys Between Nain and Hebron Regions, Northern Labrador, 1997), we are told “A polar bear denning area is found on the north tip of Soapstone Island and polar bears are frequently encountered between Cape Mugford [on Cod Island] and Nanuktut Island.”  Older sources mention Nanuktut or White Bear Island as being a major landmark off the coast of Labrador.  For example, in The Newfoundland and Labrador Pilot (Great Britain Hydrographic Department, 2nd Edition, 1887), the author states that “Nanuktut, improperly called Mugford by some of the Newfoundland fisherman, IS THE MOST REMARKABLE AND UNMISTAKABLE LAND ON THE LABRADOR COAST [emphasis mine]; its eastern side bears from the eastern side of Saddle Island… and is surrounded by a number of inaccessible peaks, the three highest of which are situated at the northeast, northwest, and southeast extremes respecgtively, and are probably not less than 1,500 feet high…”

If it’s bears we want, and the most notable landmark on this part of the Labrador coast, then a reasonable guess for Bjarn Island would be Nanuktut.

5) Kjalarness or “Keel’s Ness” is provided with a typical aetiological story in the saga.  In reality, we are looking for a remarkable feature in a headland that resembles a ship’s keel.  A good case has already been made for Cape Porcupine, and I think there is good reason for accepting this.  The probable location of Thorvald’s Krossanes (discussed below) will add support to the identification.

6) Straumfjord or ‘Current Fjord’ has been linked properly to Belle Isle.  A meeting of currents here can make navigation in Belle Strait Strait extremely hazardous due to strong tidal forces.  Belle Isle is, of course, Current Island.  The description of the Straumfjord settlement matches the location given elsewhere (again, see below) for Leifsbudir.  We are either dealing with two names for the same place or conflicting traditions about the founding of the site that became entwined in the saga narrative.

7) Karlsefni’s settlement at Hope, reached only after sailing south along the coast from Straumfjord for “a long time”, is the southernmost settlement established by the Norseman.  By “coast” the account can only mean the coast of Newfoundland, as this is where the Straumfhord/Leifsbudir settlement was located.  We are at a loss to know whether he sailed down the east or west side of the Great Northern Peninsula.

Hope means ‘Tidal Lake’.  It is described thusly in the saga:

“…eventually they came to a river that flowed down into a lake and from the lake into the sea.  There were extensive sandbars outside of the river mouth, and ships could only enter it at high tide.”

We are not told Thorvald goes south and then well east; this takes out a prime candidate for Hope, namely the Gander Bay, with its river and lake. Donald Wiedman (see his Website at http://lavalhallalujah.wordpress.com/) makes a good case instead for Saltwater Pond, which lies inside a huge sandbar, separating this tidal lake from Saltwater Cove.  I’m in agreement with him that this makes for an excellent Hope, if we opt for the east side of the Great Northern Peninsula as the location for this Viking settlement.

Superficially at least, a good candidate on the west coast of the peninsula would appear to be Humber Bay, its river and Deer Lake.  These could be reached by going straight south down the coast along the peninsula.

The Humber River area is now, and has been in the past, the richest fishing system in all of Newfoundland.  The saga account emphasizes the richness of the fishing at Hope.

But was the river navigable by Viking ships to Deer Lake?  And were there, as the saga account insists, extensive sandbars at the mouth of the river which made entry possible only during high tide?

The answer to the first question is “yes”:

http://books.google.com/books?id=mCpJAAAAIAAJ&pg=PA86&lpg=PA86&dq=lower+and+upper+humber+newfoundland&source=bl&ots=mrk4QAybqP&sig=eWW7DjUNJ83biELu_ZW7IvvDzk8&hl=en&sa=X&ei=ef2xUsL6As7eoATbqoLoBg&ved=0CGYQ6AEwBg#v=onepage&q=lower%20and%20upper%20humber%20newfoundland&f=false

The second question may also be answered in the affirmative.  “The Bar” is a well-known feature at the mouth of the Humber:

“The bar, a shallow flat, extends three-quarters of a mile from the head of the Humber river and falls suddenly to deep water.  Two rocks awash at low water are situated close to the west extreme of this flat… Great caution should be used in approaching the head, as the lead gives but little indication of the immediate approach to the bar.”

[From http://books.google.com/books?id=bmkDAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA44&lpg=PA44&dq=newfoundland+river+can+only+be+entered+at+high+tide&source=bl&ots=idn5JvQ0aA&sig=jL5Zq8C6GvHAltmVtt_QddZspLM&hl=en&sa=X&ei=WBayUtTlMJLroASCtYKICA&ved=0CCwQ6AEwAA#v=snippet&q=humber&f=false]

Could Thorfinn Karlsefni’s Hope settlement have lain on Deer Lake?

Unfortunately, no. Dr. Martin Batterson, Director of the Geological Survey of Newfoundland and Labrador (to whom I was kindly referred by Dr. Amir Ali Khan, Manager of the Hydrologic Modelling Section of the Water Resources Management Division for Newfoundland and Labrador), has informed me that “Deer Lake wouldn’t have been tidal when the Vikings were here.”

Dr. Batterson’s idea for Hope, based on his own extensive historical knowledge of the waterways on the west side of Newfoundland, is the St. George’s River estuary.  He noted in particular the major sandbars at this location, and that the estuary would have been a “tidal lake” in the Viking period.

In fact, Dr. Batterson realized that the saga description for the Hope base or settlement exactly matched the definition of a so-called barachois.  Here are a couple of good definitions of this water feature:

barachois n also barrachois, barrisois. DC ~ (N B: 1760-); HARRAP ~ ‘sand-bar.’ For occurrence in place-names, see SEARY 48, 173-4; even in places officially named Barachois, the local pronunciation may be BARASWAY. A shallow river estuary, lagoon or harbour, of fresh or salt water, sheltered from the sea by a sand-bar or low strip of land; POND 2; cp COSH.

from http://www.heritage.nf.ca/dictionary/azindex/pages/178.html

And here:

http://books.google.com/books?id=UAvyE0pN5akC&pg=PA291&lpg=PA291&dq=barachois+Place+Names+of+Atlantic+Canada++By+William+Baillie+Hamilton&source=bl&ots=T_SmTMHj3Y&sig=HDu_BmJdRlEHSyoC_kMaazYfK90&hl=en&sa=X&ei=0w_bUpabJIH0oASj6YCABQ&ved=0CCsQ6AEwAA#v=onepage&q=barachois%20Place%20Names%20of%20Atlantic%20Canada%20%20By%20William%20Baillie%20Hamilton&f=false

A good description of the “barachois” of the St. George River comes from http://deja-vu.ca/sville_xing.htm:

“Stephenville Crossing is situated on a barachois at the bottom of Bay St. George on the west coast of the island of Newfoundland. Over time, a barachois composed of river sediments was formed by the interaction of the discharge of three major rivers and the currents in the bay. The combined discharge of these three major rivers finds it’s way into Bay St. George through an opening in the barachois. This opening, located near the south side of the bay, is known as the “Gut.”

During the rising tide, salt water from Bay St. George flows through the Gut and inside the barachois. The small body of water inside the barachois is approximately seven miles long by one mile wide and is referred to as “the bottom of the bay”. The “Gut” is about 500 feet wide and when the tide goes out, the flow through the opening includes the discharge of Harry’s River, Bottom Brook, Southwest Brook, as well as several other smaller streams that flow into the “bottom of the bay”. On the rising tide, the salt waters of the bay flow into the bottom of the bay. The level of salinity of the water inside the “Gut” is lower than that of the bay.”

Like the Viking’s Hope, St. George’s River was a major salmon fishing area:

“The Atlantic Salmon have been coming to the rivers on the west coast of Newfoundland for eons. The attraction was likely the fast moving clean water over sand and gravel bottoms. A perfect environment for salmon eggs to grow and hatch into a new generation of salmon. In the springtime, large numbers of salmon navigate the coastline of the bay to find the river where they were born. Other fish, like cod, herring, halibut and eels were also plentiful.

There is little doubt that the abundance fish was the main reason to visit the “Gut”. All of the salmon that migrated into the rivers at the bottom of the bay had to past through the 500 foot wide waterway called the “Gut”. In other words, the “Gut” was an excellent place to catch salmon. The area in the immediate vicinity of the “Gut” was very sandy with minimal vegetation. Basic forms of vegetation had started and in some cases stunted trees were surviving. The tidal flats inside the “Gut” provided a summer home for large numbers of migratory birds. For the first settlers arriving in Bay St. George, the “Gut” may very well have been the most attractive location to set up residence.”

Thus we have two excellent candidates for Hope: Saltwater Pond on the east side of the peninsula, and St. George’s River on the west side.  We do not possess sufficient data at this point in time to decide in favor of one over the other.

However, there is no reason to believe that Vinland was anything other than Newfoundland.  This is not to say that the Vikings were unaware of the huge landmass to the west of Newfoundland – only that their only recorded settlements were restricted to the latter.  Newfoundland IS Vinland.

ADDENDUM I: LEIFSBUDIR OR LEIF’S BOOTHS

I accept the usual placement of Leif’s Booths at L’anse Aux Meadows in Newfoundland.  The island mentioned in the account of this settlement, which lies to the north of a headland, is simply a duplication of Straum Island, with Straumfjord or the Belle Isle Strait lying between itself and the great Northern Peninsula of Newfoundland.  A close comparison of the two accounts show this is be so, and I see no reason for trying to make the Straumfjord settlement and Leifsbudir out to be two different settlements.

ADDENDUM II: THORVALD’S KROSSANESS

According to the Saga of the Greenlanders, Thorvald Eiriksson had sailed along the coast from Keelsness and had “soon” arrived at the mouth of two fjords.  He then sailed to the promontory jutting out between the two fjords.  This promontory was named Krossaness or the Ness of the Cross because Thorvald had himself buried there and crosses erected at his head and feet as memorials.

Where is this Krossaness?  I’m guessing we are dealing with a story meant to explain the fact that either the headland in question was itself cross-shaped or there were some natural or man-made rock formations on the headland that resembled crosses.  If so, it might be possible to find this particular headland.

I have wondered whether the two crosses set up for Thorvald actually represent a folk memory of Inuit inuksuit, stone markers that are sometimes found in the shape of a cross (although whether these cross-shaped markers predate Christianity in the region is still being debated).  Some good information on inuksuit can be found here:

http://books.google.com/books?id=BCNUJIGj0F8C&pg=PA83&lpg=PA83&dq=two+cross-shaped+inuksuit+on+the+cape&source=bl&ots=jOhKTnEtoT&sig=ePwYqjwRA8-edgnGkNvYkiVxJ2I&hl=en&sa=X&ei=6IGwUqzNNMjxoATmhYKQBg&ved=0CDMQ6AEwAQ#v=onepage&q=two%20cross-shaped%20inuksuit%20on%20the%20cape&f=false

The problem with inuksuit as Thorvald’s crosses concerns their distribution.  They are an Arctic phenomenon, in the main, although they are found along the eastern seaboard of Labrador:

http://www.nunatsiavut.com/images/stories/inukshuk%20project%20final%20report.pdf

The most southerly instance of such markers on the Labrador coast I’ve been able to find is known from an early place-name.  Innuckchuckluck (inuksuk-aluk, aluk meaning ‘large’) or Big Inuksuk is located just south of Hamilton Inlet.  This is potentially significant, as Cape Porcupine just a little further south is probably Keelsness (see below).  Hamilton Inlet answers perfectly to the mouth of two fjords associated with Krossanes in the saga.  The headland jutting out between the two fjords is that which separates Double Mer from Lake Melville.

In my opinion, Thorvald’s crosses are a folk memory of Big Inuksuk, this being a recognizable landmark the Norsemen could have used to assist them in navigation along the coast.

For a map of Innuckchuckluck in relation to the location of Hamilton Inlet, and a discussion of the Inuit name for Hamilton Inlet, see:

http://www.mun.ca/labmetis/pdf/toponymy%20final%20report.pdf

http://www.heritage.nf.ca/law/lab5/labvol5_2489b.html

On Keelsness (and, incidentally, the Wonder Strands), William Baillie Hamilton’s “Place Names of Atlantic Canada” has this entry:

Cape Porcupine (Labrador)

Northwest of Huntington Island. Historian explorer Helge Ingstad has written of this area: ‘We continued our voyage northward along the coast; to the west there was a wide, white beach, bordered on the other side by the forest. After some hours we approached a promontory [which] seemed to just out like a spear into the ocean.  It has a curious shape; in the middle it could have been as much as three hundred feet in height… the terrain sloped down evenly on both sides.’ This was Cape Porcupine, earlier named for its resemblance to the animal. But, more important, Ingstad became convinced that this 60-kilometre-long beach, not duplicated elsewhere on the North Atlantic seaboard, was the Furdustrandir, or ‘Wonder Strands’, of the Norse sagas, and that Cape Porcupine was their Kjaldnes or Keelness. To the Norse, its shape undoubtedly resembled an upturned boat.  Samuel Eliot Morrison reached the same conclusion following an exhaustive sea, land, and air reconnaissance of the North Atlantic coast.

NOTE ON DR. SARAH H. PARCAK’S POSSIBLE DISCOVERY OF A VIKING SETTLEMENT ON POINT ROSEE, NEWFOUNDLAND (update to article on March 2016)

The recent identification of possible Viking structural outlines at Point Rosee, Newfoundland, discovered by Dr. Sarah H. Parcak of the University of Alabama, Birmingham, utilizing sophisticated satellite imagery, has cast some doubt on my proposed placement of Hope at St. George’s River.

http://www.nytimes.com/2016/04/01/science/vikings-archaeology-north-america-newfoundland.html

However, the situation of the Point Rosee settlement is such that it in no way conforms to the saga description of Hope.  If there is any veracity to the saga’s account of Hope, then it is possible we have not two Norse settlements (or camps?) in Vinland, but at least three.

Excavations have not been undertaken at Point Rosee, so confirmation of actual Viking presence there has not been obtained.  However, I find Dr. Parcak’s analysis of the data she has collected thus far to be compelling, if not convincing.  Field investigation of the evidence will settle the mystery.  Still, I would hope (pun strictly intended) that a genuine Point Rosee settlement would not necessarily eliminate the possibility of another such settlement at nearby St. George.

THE PROBLEM OF THE BUTTERNUTS

One of the interesting finds at L’Anse aux Meadows are butternuts and butternut wood. As noted by historical botanists (see http://naturalhistory.si.edu/vikings/voyage/subset/vinland/archeo.html):

“Butternuts and worked pieces of butternut wood-a tree that was not native to Newfoundland but was present one thousand years ago in northern Nova Scotia and New Brunswick - were also found. This discovery indicates that the people who lived at L'Anse aux Meadows had traveled further south into the Gulf of St. Lawrence, and had brought back nuts and wood native to those southern areas and were sampling the region's resources as described in the sagas. These finds suggest that the L'Anse aux Meadows site was a base-camp or gateway to the rich lands around the Gulf of St. Lawrence, which is likely the Vinland of the sagas.”

There is thus no denying that the butternuts and wood do appear to have come from the mainland. However, this does not mean there were Norse camps or settlements there. My problem with the idea of more permanent establishments on the mainland is two-fold: 1) the saga accounts do not appear to mention these - if I'm reading them correctly - and 2) with the problems the Norse had on Newfoundland with the indigenous peoples, it is rather inconceivable that they would have been able to survive long where the concentration of those peoples was much higher. None of this means, of course, that the Norse didn't go to the mainland. They most certainly knew it was there and accessed it at least for a limited amount of resources.

Another possibility is that the butternuts and wood were trade goods obtained through the natives.  A curious sort of one-sided trade is mentioned in the sagas.  But it is not impossible that a more significant form of trade may have existed for a time, and that one of the items the Norse traded for were the aforementioned wood and nuts.

THE NAME VINLAND AND ITS SIGNIFICANCE FOR NEWFOUNDLAND VERSUS THE CONTINENTAL MAINLAND

Attempts have been made to interpret Vinland as a geographical designation embracing not only Newfoundland – where the only known Viking settlements/camps are found – but the Continental mainland as well.  I think this is flawed reasoning.

Two etymologies have been proposed for the place-name Vinland:

vín-land, “wine-land”

or

vin-land, “meadow-land”

By utilizing the name Wine-land, many have sought wild grapes or a certain kind of berry at a latitude that does not match that of L’Anse aux Meadows and much if not all of Newfoundland.  Thus the name is said to represent the mainland and not Newfoundland.  This does not address the problem of what, then, Newfoundland was called by the Norse.  Recourse has been made to seeing Current Island not as Belle Island, but as Newfoundland itself.  But given the size of Newfoundland (surface area 156,453 mi²) and the size of Iceland (39,769 mi²), this is quite impossible.  Newfoundland would have been a land in Norse naming practice, not an island.

Nor do we have any evidence that the Norse tended to include a “land” as large as Newfoundland, being separate from the mainland, as merely a part of a larger region known collectively as Vinland. Had the mainland been called Vinland, and not Newfoundland, Newfoundland itself would have had its own distinct name.

Thus we can be fairly certain that Newfoundland is Vinland.  What the mainland may have been called by the Norse must remain unknown.  Possibly it was viewed as an extension of Markland.

THE GRAVE OF STARKAD THE OLD

A fair degree of mystery surrounds the location of the final resting place of the most famous Viking (or “Odinic”) hero of all, Starkad hinn gamli or Starkad ‘the Old’.  This is mainly due to the fact that the early 13th century writer Saxo Grammaticus provides us with a place-name that appears to be no longer extant:  the Plain of Roliung or Rolung.  There is a mountain on this plain next to which Starkad sat in an episode preceding his death, and a beck.

Roliung/Rolung is mentioned in the latter part of the 13th century in the Annales Ryenses (59), where it is identified as a heath (liung = Swedish ljung, ‘heath’) not far from a bridge over the river Ronne at or near Angelholm, Skane, Sweden or, perhaps (see Axel Olrik’s Danmarks Heltedigtning: En oldtidsstudie, 1903, p. 161), one over the Raan River somewhere just south of Helsingborg in Skane.  There is a Raa Ljung near Helsingborg, in fact, and some very large barrow mounds are found at Ronneberga just a little south of the Raan.  The –berga (berg = mountain or hill) element of Ronneberga makes us think of the mountain Starkad is supposed to have sat under on Roliung.  Alternate spellings for the place-name found in the sources include regriæliung, regnælyngh, ræynælyung.

More specific locations have been sought for his grave in Swedish tradition. A favorite region seems to have been that either between Angelholm and Vegeholm or even just west of the Vegea River and Valinge.  There is a story preserved from the 16th century (see again Olrik, pp. 162-163) of a certain Sterkkarl (or Starkkarl), i.e. the ‘Strong Karl’, moving big stones about or even having a grave in the vicinity.  It is tempting to view the name Sterkkarl as a folk corruption of Starkad.

When I set out to investigate this matter, I found one bit of potential information that had not yet been properly utilized: another place-name said to be near Roliung, found preserved in a marginal note in the mid-15th century MS. Skokloster E 8945.  The place-name in this note puzzled the early 20th century editor, M.C. Gertz.

As it included Medieval Latin abbreviations, I sought the aid of Professor Staffan Fridell of Uppsala University (katalog.uu.se/empinfo/?id=N94-866), a noted expert in the field of both Swedish place-names and MS. Paleography.  He had the following to say concerning the problem posed by the marginal note:

"The name should undoubtedly be read:

Lunterthwn. Luntertun was a medieval town in Skåne close to the present-day town of Ängelholm."

The marginal note then read “ryneliwngh circa lunterthwn’” or “Ronneljiung near Luntertun”.  I would add that Luntertun existed prior to and was largely replaced by Angelholm.  There was a very early bridge over the Ronne at Luntertun, and this may well be the Rynaebro mentioned in the Annales Ryenses.  Records reveal that Luntertun was also called Rynestad.

This both helps and hurts our search for Starkad’s grave.  Why?  Because, as it happens, there are many large barrows around Luntertun.

The mounds are of Bronze Age origin, but they were often re-used for burials in the Iron Age, including the time of Starkad.  Heathland is found throughout the area covered by these mounds.  It may be that Saxo’s Roliung (or Ronneljung) was not a specific place-name, but instead merely indicated a heath on the Ronne near Luntertun.  This kind of generalized description for the place could later have been taken for a true place-name.  It is also possible the name went out of fashion or was replaced by another name.

Barrows have, of course, been destroyed over the centuries, both through building and agriculture.  The possibility that Starkad’s barrow may have suffered such a fate must be considered.

In my mind, the principle question when it comes to searching for Starkad’s grave is whether we decide to trust Saxo’s spelling of the place, i.e. Roliung or Rolung, or accept the identification by later authors of Saxo’s rendering with a heath on the Ronne River near Luntertun (or Vegeholm).  If we accept Saxo as the authority, then we must dispense with a heath on the Ronne.

According to Professor Staffan Fridell, “the river Råån in Skåne would be a linguistically possible candidate.”  At the same time, “The Rönne-names, like that of Rönneberga, are unrelated to Råån.”  The professor was kind enough to send me a section of John Kousgård Sörensen’s Danske sö- og ånavne which discusses the Råån name.  In this source we learn that the river’s original name was simply Rå, later becoming Rå-å and then, finally, Råån.

What this means is that Roliung could well be from Ra-ljung.  The attempt by later tradition to substitute Ronne-like names leaves us without an extant Ronne-ljung, while the Ra(a) Ljung near the mouth of the Raan still exists today.

I would hasten to add that Helsingborg is the closest point on the Swedish mainland to the island of Sjaelland, from which Angantyr and his brothers were said to hail in Saxo’s tale.

Local tradition identifies an ancient funeral monument (RAÄ-nummer Helsingborg 164:1) in Helsingborg as belonging to the purely fictional salvation hero Holger Danske, who was NOT known of by Saxo Grammaticus and only became important in Danish lore AFTER he was made famous in French Chansons de Gest.  The monument was composed of five high stones.  These stones gave their name to the community of Hogasten or ‘High Stone’ and were likely removed from the plateau-like elevation near the mouth of the Raan to be used in the construction of ramparts.  Some have proposed before that this monument was originally associated not with Holger Danske, but instead with Starkad.  I quite agree with this idea.

Widar Narvelo, an ecologist for Helsingborg, has confirmed for me that Hogasten lay within what had once been the fuller extent of Raa Ljung.  To quote Mr. Narvelo:

“Råå ljung was a rather big grazing area covered with heather, a moorland created by man (using fire to create farmland) and grazing animals (originally a primeval forest) perhaps over 1000-years ago until the 1800´s. Nowadays there are only small areas left. You can see Råå ljung on the old map showing the landscape during the 1700´s. It is the big beige area also called Pålstorps bys utmark along the coast from Råå to Helsingborg, a length of about 5 km and a width of maximum 1 km.”

In Saxo’s story, Angantyr falls slain by Starkad in a stream on Roliung. As a result, the waters become red with the fallen berserker’s blood.  There is precedence for this sort of thing in folk tradition.  The Rödabäck (Red Brook) further south in Skane appears to have gotten its name because of the blood of soldiers that flowed into it during the Battle of Lund in 1676 between the Danish and Swedish armies.  The battle actually took place north of Lund around the Kävlingeån river, of which the Rodaback is a tributary. The Swedes eventually won, securing Swedish rule over the former Danish province of Skåne.

For Starkad’s red stream, I would propose the Ramlosa-brunn, a spring just a little to the NNE of Hogasten.  The spring is iron-rich, and the stream from it has turned all the sandstone through and over which it flows a distinctive reddish color.  The spring became a renowned spa in modern times.

Widar Narvelo has the following to say about the Ramlosa-brunn:

“It is just rainwater running through the different layers of sedimentary bedrock, mainly sandstone, with iron compounds in it. And then in the ravine the water is just leaking out. We have this phenomenon throughout the whole of landborgen and in the Råån valley as well as in Ramlösa. There is another well in the north of Helsingborg called well of St Georg (Jörgen) and this well might have been used since prehistoric age. Some of the out-leaking ground water empties in the Lussebäcken stream.”