CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE STUDY

OF OTHIN ESPECIALLY IN HIS

RELATION TO AGRICULTURAL
PRACTICES IN MODERN POPULAR
LORE







































If we wish to establish the real significance of a heathen Teutonic deity and the way in
which it has developed in the course of the ages, we can not restrict ourselves to the
study of literary documents, such as the Icelandic poems of the Edda or the sagas, but
we have to look for information from other sources also. Scholars have been
accustomed to draw for this purpose largely on folkloristic sources such as popular
customs and superstitions. This method, indispensable as it may be for the
reconstruction of the early Germanic religion, about which the extant sources have
practically nothing to say, is open to serious objections.
As long as we might consider popular traditions as genuine modern representatives of
original heathen religious practices, we seemed justified in using these folkloristic
materials with as much confidence as the literary traditions of pagan times. They
could even yield something more which the latter only gave by way of exception:
some insight into the rites and practices of the heathen religion. A well known
example of this kind is to be found in the study of modern agricultural customs, which
threw an unexpected light both upon the cult of Nerthus, as Tacitus has ascribed it in
his Germania, and even upon the scanty information about the Scandinavian Freyr-
cult. The value of folkloristic material, however, has been seriously weakened in late
years, by the ever increasing amount of proofs that a great deal of popular tradition is
nothing but products of higher civilisation, debased to the level of the common
people. So it is quite obvious that a popular tradition, which was once considered as a
valuable remnant of [4] old heathen lore, may be of much later origin, even of quite
modern extraction.
Now, of course, we should not be too sceptical. Although a great deal of present-day
popular lore may be of a very problematic origin, it is still possible that ever and anon
very interesting specimens of the highest antiquity may be found among the flotsam
and jetsam of historical evolution. Only a careful study of popular traditions can
enable us to make any definite conclusion.
The vestiges of the cult of Othin, in popular traditions, as we find them now-a-days in
different parts of the Scandinavian territory, are a case in point.
1. Modern harvest customs in Scandinavia and Germany
In his interesting book Wrend och Wirdarne the Swedish scholar Hyltn-Cavallius
has collected a great many instances of the survival of pagan deities in modern
folklore. Among several traditions about Othin he gives the following important
information: Some generations ago (i. e. in the latter half of the 18th century) the
people of Wrend still had the custom of sacrificing something to the horses of Othin.
They usually did it in the following way: people left untouched, when mowing a
meadow, a 'few green blades of grass which were bent down and covered with moss,
so as to prevent them from being damaged by cattle. The peasant said while doing so:
Othin shall have this for his horses or This is for the horses of Othin. If any one
should neglect to make this sacrifice to Othin's horses, he was supposed to be
punished the following year by a bad hay-crop I).
In this custom we find a connection between the religious conceptions of Othin's
horses and the rites of fertility. Before entering upon a discussion of the question as
[5] to whether this piece of popular lore may be considered as a valuable proof for the
theory, that Othin was originally a deity of fertility, we had better ask first: Can we
rely upon the trustworthiness of this Swedish tradition? We find the same belief as
far as Finland, where it has been taken down from the mouth of the Swedish speaking
peasant Gabriel Raf, a man of about eighty years 2). He also said that it had been the
custom in former days to leave a few blades of grass for Othin. - But the way in which
this information was obtained is significant; the collector asked the man: Have you
ever heard anything about Othin? Then he answered: Certainly, old people
sometimes mentioned Othin and when they were mowing the corn, they used to leave
some straws for Othin, but whether it was a human being or an animal I never asked.
When collectors of folkloristic material put their questions in this way, they may be
fairly sure of gleaning as many notes about old heathen deities as they like. The
peasant is often inclined to answer in the affirmative either simply to show his good
will or because he does not like to admit that he does not know about what his
interrogator expects him to have heard 3).
Fortunately we may dismiss all doubts about the reliability of this information.
Hyltn-Cavallius himself gives many instances of Othin's name having been known to
Swedish peasants of the 19th century. Moreover we have the unquestionable
testimony of later folklorists, who collected their material in a thoroughly scientific
way. So we possess a much later communication from the same district, Wrend,
about a peasant who said: This year the rye grows badly, for Othin or his servant has
taken something from every ear 4).
But the same custom has been noted down in other parts of Sweden also, as e.g. in
Blekinge 5) and Skne. It is even known in the Danish islands, where the last [6]
sheaf of corn is sacrificed to the horses of Jon Opsal, according to the tradition of
Meen 6), while in the islands of Lolland and Falster this is done to the horses of Goen
or to Goen himself 7). So it is beyond all doubt that in a well-confined part of
Scandinavia (i.e. in Southern Sweden 8) and in the Danish islands) this custom has
been practiced. As these parts of Sweden belong to the territory, which was once
united with Denmark, we may surmise that this custom is possibly of Danish origin
andthat it has spread to Sweden in the course of the Middle Ages.
Beyond this region we find the custom of making a sacrifice of the last sheaf as well
as the popular belief about Othin and his horse. But now, they are quite distinct from
one another. The corn is not sacrificed to Othin but to other mythical beings, partly in
human, partly in animal shape. Moreover, even in the districts where the last sheaf is
dedicated to Othin's horses, it is also said that the sacrifice is made to other
supernatural beings. So the Swedish peasant leaves to the Gloso or Glosuggan,
probably a vegetation-spirit in the form of a sow, not only three corn-ears or some
straws on the field, but even a few apples on the tree and when he is threshing in the
barn, he leaves some grains in the cornbox. The same custom is found in Norway, but
the intention is here only to procure abundant harvest for the following year 9).
Elsewhere the sacrifice is made to the underground-people or to the old man of the
field, the kergubben 1o).
So the custom to sacrifice the last sheaf to Othin seems to be a peculiar form of a
much more common sacrifice to other mythical beings. It is then possible that from
the beginning this practice has nothing to do with the heathen god Othin. Here,
however, a serious objection to this reasoning may arise from those cases where the
last sheaf is sacrificed to a being, whose name if not identical with Othin at least has a
very close resemblance to it. [7] In Northern Germany the peasants left some balms of
corn on the field for a demon, which was called by different names, such as W d or
W l d and with another vowel W a u l or W a u d l and many forms more II). As
early as 1593 a certain Nicolaus Gryse mentions in his book Spegel des
antichristlichen Pawestdoms vnd Lutherischen Christendorns 12) this same custom
and quotes even a small rhyme which the peasants sang while dancing round the corn-
sheaf:

Wode, hale dynern Rosse nu Voder,
Nu Distel vnde Dorn,
Thom andren Jhar beter Korn.

In a modern variant from Saxony, in stead of Wode we read Fr Gaue; possibly this is
a misinterpretation of Fra Gaue and whereas fr is an old word for lord,' its
meaning may be the Lord Gode(n); it is generally assumed that we find the same
name in the word Vergdndl,' which is the name for the last sheaf in Lower
Germany.
Gryse firmly believes that this Wode is the same as the pagan deity Wodan. The
German folklorist U. Jahn, after discussing a great many similar practices in which
the corn-demon has the same name or is simply called the Old One, comes to the
conclusion that there can be no doubt whatever about the identity of the corn-sacrifice
to this Old One and that to Wuotan 13). In course of time the heathen god has
been degraded to a simple spirit (Elementargeist) and he traces the line of
development downwards through several intermediary stages where the last sheaf is
not sacrificed to the Old One, but to other mythical beings, such as the
Wichtelmann or Feldmann (Thuringia) or even the Erdmnnchen and Erdbiberli
(Aargau 14). [8]
In other parts of Germany we meet with the same practices. In Hessia and
Schaumburg-Lippe a round piece of the rye-field was left unmown and had the name
of Waulroggen; a stick with flowers set in the middle of it was called the Waulstab
and the labourers shouted thrice: Waul, waul, waul!" Again in Bavaria a sheaf of
corn was left on the field for the Waudlgaul; beer, milk and bread were sacrificed to
the Waudlhunde. In the 18th century there had been a harvest ceremony, called the
Waudismhe. Jahn 15) adduces some sources from the Middle-Ages which confirm
this custom: the town of Presburg had to pay every year a sum of money an dem
newen iare, daz man heyst dy Wud and the church of Passau got, according to a
charter of the 13th century, a contribution of oats, which was called Wutfuter. Here
again it might be argued that this South-German Waudi is identical with the Low-
German Wold or Wde and hence may be considered also as representing the heathen
god Wodan or Othin.
The harvest customs have been studied in later years with much care, especially by
Mannhardt 16), Sir Frazer 17), Rantasalo 18) and Nils Lid 19). We are able on the
ground of these investigations to form a fairly good idea of these practices, which are
to be found in all parts of the world. Everywhere do we hear of a sacrifice to mythical
beings, most commonly of a lower order than the gods and often called in
ethnological treatises by the name of corn-spirits. The sacrifice to a demon with a
special name is a higher developed form of a much more primitive custom. When we
wish to know the exact relation between the original notion of the corn-spirit and the
later individualised form of Wode or Wodan, we have to give an answer to the
following questions:
1. What is the original notion of the corn-spirit and along what way does its
development go? [9]
2. What is the original significance of the mythical being Wde, Wold, Wauld
and what is its relation to the harvest customs?
3. Finally, what is the relation between this Wode and the pagan god Wodan-
Othin?




































2. Original conceptions of the corn-spirit
The harvest customs in which a sacrifice is made to a corn-spirit are of a singularly
complicated nature. The supernatural being, which we may call for convenience sake
by the name of the corn-spirit, proves to be of a very different kind; in fact all sorts of
mythical beings may occasionally be considered as connected with the prosperity of
the crops. We have mentioned already the old man of the field and the people which
live beneath the earth (underjordiske, undibyggarna; in Germany the Erdmnnchen or
the Wichtelmann); we may add: the spirits of the dead, the e l v e s (in some parts of
Denmark Ellekongen 20) and furthermore in several parts of Scandinavia, the
domestic spirit or tomten 21). The corn-spirit is often represented as a female being,
known in Germany by very different names such as die gute Frau, die Braut, das
Holzfrulein, die Kornjungfer and many more 22). Finally its animal form is not less
frequent; the usual names are those of the horse, the dog, the pig, the cat, the hare, the
fox, the goat, the bull and the cock.
This variety is already bewildering enough. But besides this the singular fact strikes
us, that this vegetation demon may be considered not only as a benevolent but also as
a malignant spirit; supposed to reside in the last sheaf itself, it is brought to the home
of the peasant in order to be made use of for the crop of the following year, [10] but
people try as well to get rid of it by throwing it on to the ground of a neighbour. So in
the island of Langeland 23) the labourers dress up the last sheaf as an old woman and
throw it into the yard of a neighbour who has not yet finished mowing his field; it is
considered to be a great dishonour to become the last owner of this sheaf. The same
customs are connected not only with the cutting of the last corn-stalks but also with
the threshing of the last sheaf. Even during Yule-tide, when the dead ancestors are
commemorated, the last sheaf sometimes forms a prominent part of the ceremonial
practices. Here the corn-spirit seems to be confused with the spirits of the dead.
So we get the strong impression, that a great many different observances have been
mixed up into a series of popular customs, the real meaning of which has been lost in
the course of ages. Thus it seems to be rather dangerous to connect one of the
particular forms of these practices with an ancient heathen sacrifice, before we have
tried to establish if the present popular custom may be considered as the direct
descendant of a pagan rite.
The practices connected with the last sheaf are not only the result of a long
development, but even go back to a very different origin. Without making any attempt
to give them in the order, corresponding with the possible successive stages of
evolution, we may notice the following conceptions.
The sheaf is left on the field, simply because it is the last one of the harvest, It seems
to be a very wide spread custom not to take all the profit one can obtain 24). If the
fruits of a tree are gathered, usually some are left on the branches; the reason for this
custom is often quite unknown and it is done because' people are used to doing it;
sometimes they are a kind of sacrifice, so in Sjlland to nissen 25), in Sweden even
to Fra 26). When sheep are sheared some wool remains untouched between the ears;
[11] it is called, the crown of the sheep and the meaning is that the force by which
the wool will grow again, can stay here 27). In Finland and Esthland the corn-box
may never be emptied wholly; if this were done, the farm would lose its cornluck
and gradually become impoverished 28). Likewise the Cheremiss think it necessary
always to leave three unthreshed sheafs on the floor of the barn or else the guardian
spirit would not stay here 29). The same idea lies at the bottom of a curious custom in
Savolax: when drawing water from a well you must pour back some drops in order
that the well may not be killed 30). It is evident from these examples that the part
which is left untouched is considered to contain the very essence of the things people
want for their every-day life; the sheaf left on the field, the grains in the corn-box,
contain the vivifying power which the peasant wishes to preserve for the crops of the
following year; necessarily this small portion embodies the totality, the fertilizing
force is here present in a condensed form; we may express it also in this way: this last
remnant is loaded with a high potency of growing power. Ears of corn, showing
particular signs of abundant fertility, might be considered as the special residence of
the growing power; hence the numerous practices and superstitions referring to the so
called double fruit, as e.g. corn-stalks with two ears 31).
Of course people still continue these practices without knowing their purpose; the
explanations they themselves try to give of them may be simply guesswork. So in
Denmark it is said that there were left some corn-ears for the poor; elsewhere again
for the mice or for the birds. A communication from Bornholm says that it had
formerly been a sacrifice 'to the underground people, but afterwards to the birds.
Likewise in the island of Fyn people did not rake too closely for there must be
something left for the usynlige. So a custom, emptied of its original meaning, [12]
is maintained in use by 'the conservatism of the peasantry, who do not like to abolish
a practice inherited from their ancestors; the folklorist can not be too cautious when
making use of information of this kind, for such customs are dead survivals liable to
the most arbitrary, combinations.
When people leave a small part of the harvest on the field the reason may be that in
this part the quintessence of the prosperity of the field is supposed to reside. But in
this case it is but natural that man 'wants to take hold of this blessing power. When
the bushel of corn-stalks remains standing on the field, the birds will very soon have
emptied it of its valuable contents; might it not be better to take the corn stalks' home
and lay them up for the following year? So the last sheaf is no longer left on the
stubblefield, but during the winter stored up in the barn.
It is to be noted, that we have no reason to consider this sheaf as the incorporation of a
corn-spirit, still less as a spirit crudely personified (in human or animal form), but
simply as the mystical representative of the impersonal fertilizing power residing in
the corn-field. This is clearly shown by the well-known custom of keeping the sheaf
till the following spring and then threshing the grains out of it and mixing them up
with the seed in order to get an abundant crop in the autumn. The idea of the blessing
residing in this sheaf is naively illustrated by a Danish superstition: Efforts were made
to cure sick cattle by giving them a few bushels of hay containing grains of the "fok"
or last sheaf.
Besides this belief in an impersonal growing power there exist many others of very
different origin. The corn-spirit often appears in animal form and these animals may
belong partly to the domestic animals (cow, horse, pig, goat) and partly to the wild
animals of the wood (wolf, fox, hare). The customs are moreover exceedingly
different and it is a fruitless task to try to reconcile the numerous contradictory [13]
forms and to reduce them to one single original belief. Without entering into details
and repeating the examples well known from the books of Sir Frazer and Mannhardt,
I may state the very important difference between corn-spirits in animal form, which
are considered as propitious, and those which are dangerous and malevolent. The
former are brought home with joy and reverence, the latter thrown away into the
neighbour's field or even killed.
The animal-spirit of the corn may be thought obnoxious without taking the
corresponding form of a savage beast. In Lesbos, according to Frazer 32) when the
reapers are at work in two neighbouring fields each party tries to finish first in order
to drive the hare into their neighbour's field. On the contrary in Galloway, the hare is
brought home and sometimes even kept till the next harvest. Moreover in the same
district the corn-spirit may take several animal forms 33); are we entitled to suppose
that only one animal belongs to the original customs of a definite region and that the
other coexisting forms have been introduced from elsewhere? Has each kind of crop
its own special animal spirit? Does, for instance, the cock belong to rye, the goat to
oats, the hare to flax? This does not seem very probable as in the same region one
single animal may stand for all sorts of plants; in Esthland the peasants speak as well
of the corn-wolf, as of the pea-wolf or the bean-wolf 34).
What is the reason that the corn-spirit in Mecklenburg takes the form of a wolf and of
a cock, while in Sweden it takes even as many forms as those of a goat, a hare, a cat
(logkatten) and a pig (gloso)? In some cases a special animal-form seems to be typical
for a distinct geographical area, e.g. the bull in Prussia and on the other hand in
Bavaria and the adjoining parts of Bohemia, Switzerland and France. But these are
questions to which it is as yet impossible to give any definite answer; they de-
[14]serve a minute investigation, taking into account all available information about
these customs and confining itself to a vast territory with a rather homogeneous
population.
The idea of an obnoxious animal residing in the cornfield could arise from several
observations of every-day life. In former times, when the corn-fields lay in the
immediate vicinity of the uncultivated woods and deserts which is still the case in
more remote districts it naturally often happened that wolves, foxes, hares and
other wild beasts damaged the ripening harvest. When the wind passes over the corn-
field, ploughing long furrows through the stalks, the Dutch peasant still says: The
rye-dog runs through the field or The rye-sow (roggemeuje) has let loose her pigs
35). When after a hail-storm the corn is beaten down to the ground, it often gives the
'impression as if a drove of cattle or other animals had trampled down the stalks.
If the idea had arisen that in the corn-field there was present a spirit which had the
power to damage and to destroy, the form of an obnoxious animal being hidden
between the corn-halms lay very near at hand.
But how came man to imagine that the corn-spirit could be of a hostile nature? The
mowing of the field is the appropriation of a crop which properly speaking belongs to
the power which is supposed to reside in the soil. This spirit necessarily considers the
harvesting peasant as a despoiler of its possessions as it is driven back by the ever
advancing sickles into the remotest corner of its territory. The man, who has to mow
the last sheaf is sure to reach the corn-spirit itself, which will now be compelled to
surrender. But it may then be particularly dangerous and very often the man is clearly
supposed to fight and destroy the spirit. In Lorraine it is said of the man who cuts the
last corn: He is killing the Dog of the Harvest. [15]
A corn-spirit that has in the end to be killed can not be taken home to secure the crops
of the following year. But what then is man's attitude with regard to the benevolent
demon which he wants to get into his possession? It may be supposed that even this
spirit will not surrender so very easily. When the last sheaf of corn is mowed' down
the spirit must be captured and kept by force. Sometimes the labourers make an effigy
of the animal spirit which they catch in a mock-chase and afterwards present to the
farmer. Very interesting is a Dutch custom preserved in the province of Groningen
when threshing the last load of cole-seed. The plants after being cut are collected in a
piece of canvas and then brought together on to a huge canvas-cloth where they are
immediately threshed. Now, when the last load is made ready by the bearers, a boy of
about fifteen hastily gathers some grass and flowers from the edge of the ditch and
plaits these into a figure which may be considered as the effigy of a hare. Then he
suddenly jumps on to the canvas where his appearance causes great excitement among
the labourers, who after having taken a dram to raise their courage, lift, with much
apparent difficulty, this load and bring it to the threshing place where the contents are
shaken out on to the huge cloth. But it betrays by its convulsive movements that a
living being is hidden in it and indeed presently the boy appears out of the pile of
plants completely covered with the pericarps of the cole-seed and creeps to the feet of
the farmer to whom he gives the bundle of grass representing the cole-seed hare. At
once the labourers begin to thresh as they say, to beat the hare blood out of it 36).
This custom is a very clear example of the catching of the vegetation-spirit and it is
found elsewhere also in a slightly different form 37). It takes some trouble to catch,
but in the end the peasant comes into possession of it, thereby securing the prosperity
of the next harvest. But at [16] the same time the spirit is killed and its blood beaten
out of it, this being a conception which it is hard to reconcile with the former one.
This seems to me a very instructive example of the co-existence of two contrary
opinions in the mind of the same people, being engaged in the same agricultural act. It
would be quite wrong to imagine that these different conceptions represent the
successive 'stages of a rectilinear development; they are only the result of the different
attitudes of man with regard to natural phenomena that excite his highest interest 38).
The influence of originally quite foreign conceptions may also account for the dual
character of the corn-spirit. The rye-mother that lives in the cornfield is sometimes a
very dangerous being by which children are frightened from going into the field. The
German Roggenmuhme, the Danish Rugkjlling, the Lithuanian Rugiu-boba, the
Polish Rzanamatka all have the same bad reputation. This is a curious instance of
such a contamination of different conceptions, for the corn-mother, has been turned
into a malignant spirit by the influence of the demon meridianus, which about noon
is supposed to wander through the fields and to cause disease and even death 39). It
will be superfluous to add that a popular belief that considers mythical beings as
bogeys is far from being reliable material for the student of religion.



3. The Corn-Spirit in human shape
In the agricultural practices we have treated hitherto the last sheaf is not to be
considered as a sacrifice. The sheaf is the corn-spirit itself, killed or done away with if
it is to be feared, caught and carefully stored up if it is friendly. But besides these
practices there are in modern tradition the survivals of harvest-customs which suppose
[17] quite a different conception of the corn-spirit. It is regarded as a supernatural
being in human shape and it is identified with a real person at the moment of the
cutting of the last sheaf. This person may be the labourer who wields the last stroke of
the sickle, or the woman who binds the last sheaf, a stranger accidentally passing by,
or even the landlord himself.
Sir Frazer has made a thorough study of these various forms, to which I refer the
reader who wants to enter into the details 40); here he has given examples of the
different ways in which this person may be treated: he may be killed as a
representative of the corn-spirit or as a sacrifice to it; he may be dressed as if he were
the corn-spirit itself and brought home with much fun and frolic. He may even be
supposed to be married to the corn-spirit and these customs, though in modern times
debased to an almost meaningless mockery, may be a late remembrance of religious
rites of a sacred marriage by which a successor to the decrepit vegetation-spirit will be
engendered.
In several parts of Germany where similar practices are still to be found, the corn-
spirit is accordingly called the Old Man or the Old Woman 41). The Danish material
which Mr. Ellekilde has kindly placed at my disposal, furnishes a series of very
interesting examples. A communication from Hjrring district in Jutland tells that the
people make for the last cartload of corn a balm figure in the likeness of a man; the
girl that has bound the last sheaf is obliged to dance with the stodder, who is called
her husband. In the neighbourhood of Viborg this girl is likewise married to the Old
One; she weeps bitter tears on account of this shameful misfortune. The same custom
prevails in other parts of Jutland also (districts of Aarhus and Vejle). Sometimes the
unfortunate girl is called a widow; this name reveals to us the real meaning of this
custom; the girl who was to be married to the corn-spirit, was for-[17]merly killed,
this being the only way to achieve the union with this non-human spirit.
An attenuated form was the prohibition to marry in the future any mortal man; she
was tabooed by virtue of her spiritual relation to the corn-demon and consequently
treated as a widow. In later days people did not understand this name and then arose
the queer notion that the unlucky girl should be condemned to get a widower as her
future husband, or if it was a man who had cut the last corn-sheaf to marry a widow.
This is a very common belief in Jutland; but the original meaning of it is revealed by
the conception, that she will never marry; in the province of Ringkjbing this is
expressed by the following pretty lines:
Pigen som binder den sidste neg
skal lgges som jomfru paa baaren bleg
or:
Den der snrer den sidste neg
naar aldrig at dele med brudgommen steg.

Less cruel is the popular belief in Aarhus amt and elsewhere: she will not marry
before the end of the next year, while information from Tisted amt has turned it into
its opposite: the girl will become a wife before the year is out. Finally there are a
couple of diverging communications which again point to the original belief: the girl
will die in the course of the year (Aarhus amt), or she will get a child in the same
lapse of time (Ringkjobing amt).
These various superstitions show the gradual debasement of a belief which was once
filled with sense and religious feeling. Only by means of a comparative study can we
glimpse the original meaning of it; as we find it now-a-days it has become obscured
by misinterpretation or defective recollection, it has even been transposed into its
contrary. We easily understand that popular traditions, [19] worn out in this way, lose
their hold on the mind of the people; they are liable to every modification which fancy
may suggest and so they become in course of time destitute of all clear meaning 42).
The student of these popular customs can not be too careful in using this material, for
it may be compared with the lifeless body of the popular tale, into which a cunning
magician can introduce whatever soul he likes. Another danger lies moreover in the
well known fact, that the notions of popular belief generally show a very vague and
hazy character. The ideas of primitive man have this in common with those of the
lower classes of modern society, that they are constantly shifting in form and content,
according to the circumstances; so it is often very difficult to say which is the original
character of a supernatural being that manifests itself at one and the same time in very
different forms, e. g. as a protecting spirit of the house (hustomt), but also as a
chthonic being (underbyggarna), as a spirit of mountain, water, wood or field, as a
dead ancestor, a dwarf or an elf 43). So not only a historical development, which
confounded conceptions of quite different origin, may account for the bewildering
complexity of popular belief, but even the vague nature of popular conceptions
themselves.
4. The Corn-spirit and the spirits of the dead
These considerations of a more general order will, as I hope, not be considered out of
place; they will prove useful when we now again continue our survey of the different
forms which the corn-spirit may invest. In the mind of primitive man there is a close
connection between the fertility of the soil and the spirits of the dead ancestors that
reside in the family ground. These are the real possessors of the field and
consequently of all that is grown [20] upon it; they may be called in a rather summary
way the underground people", as we already have had the opportunity to observe in
Scandinavian tradition; they may be represented as well by one single ancestor, who
is regarded as the most distinguished of all, the founder of the family who first took
possession of the soil and who remains the very owner of the family-property. He
may be called the Old One or the Grandfather 44).
Of course this mythical forefather is supposed to be kind and helpful ; if the new crop
is the result of his tender care for the family, he intends to give it up to its living
members. But he may expect a token of gratitude, a sacrifice intended to recall and
reward his beneficial activity. The bundle of corn-balms left on the field might
accordingly be considered as such an offering to the guardian-spirit of the soil. It has
been a custom, known in Germany as well as in Finland 45), to sacrifice a part of the
harvest when bringing it into the barn to the mice with the intention of keeping them
from eating the grain. But a sacrifice to the dead has been practised too and
sometimes it seems that the offering to the mice has a close relation with an original
sacrifice to the dead. Among the Swedes in Finland the following information has
been noted down: at the door of the barn the peasant throws some grains of corn
across the left shoulder a very characteristic act for entering into relation with the
world of the dead 46).
The influence of the cult of the dead ancestors upon the original agricultural rites has
had very interesting consequences. The last sheaf which was not originally a sacrifice
at all 47), was now considered to be such an offering. If at the same, time there
existed the conception of a corn-spirit embodied in the last sheaf and of the last sheaf
as a sacrifice to a supernatural power the result must inevitably have been that there
arose the new idea of its being an offering to the corn-spirit itself. This seems to [21]
be the case when in Sweden the last blades of grass are left on the field not for the
horses of Othin but for the gloson; now-a-days people even do not know to which
power they make the sacrifice, which nevertheless is still strictly observed 48).
At Yule-tide the dead ancestors are commemorated by different sacrifices; Yule is
especially a feast of the dead. But very often the last sheaf plays a prominent part in it;
in Sweden a corn-sheaf, often called the old man of Yule (Julgubben) is brought
into the room and even twisted together so as to form the effigy of a man or a woman,
elsewhere of a goat, a cock or other animal The close connection with the last sheaf
brought to the farm in harvest time and these straw figures of the Yule festival is
sometimes expressly stated: Celander who has given many examples of these
remarkable customs 50), has been led to the conviction that in many respects the Yule
feast had an agrarian significance.
It must be granted that the last sheaf plays a prominent part on several occasions of
the Yule festival: in the Scandinavian countries the floor was strewn with a thick layer
of straw and a communication from Uppland adds that it was customary to use the
first sheaf which had been threshed. Now the first sheaf to be threshed is of course the
last sheaf which has been brought into the barn at the harvest. In this case this
particular sheaf was possibly chosen as the bearer of the fertility power as Celander
suggests 51). In connection with the custom, which forms the subject of this paper, it
is interesting to be reminded of the practice, which is found in a part of Skne, of
setling down a Yule sheaf for Noens horse 52).
There is still another curious instance to be mentioned. The Yule festal dish was a pig
fattened during the autumn with special care. The bones were kept till the following
spring and then together with the seed scattered on the [22] corn-field. The intention
was to get an abundant crop. This was a custom in the Swedish province of Smland.
Now in the Norwegian district of Setesdal the Yule goat was fattened by giving to it
the goat-figure made of the last sheaf. By combining this information Celander
ventures to draw the conclusion that here may have been originally a series of
practices having the purpose of establishing a circulation of fertility-essence; the last
sheaf contains the growing power of the harvest, by giving it to the goat it enters this
animal, by mixing its bones with the seed it is. again restored to the soil.
This is of course a purely hypothetical construction which Von Sydow has rightly
judged unacceptable 53). It seems to me open to serious objection to combine a
Norwegian and a Swedish custom which may be only local developments. Moreover
the particular practice of Setesdal appears to be the result of the rather curious fact
that the same animal that is eaten at the Yule feast is represented by the last sheaf.
Still the fact, that the same custom is found in other parts of Norway as, well, makes it
probable that it belongs to the long series of practices by which the corn-spirit is
killed in full vigour in order to prevent it from becoming weaker and losing its
magical forces during the winter-time 54). But these coincidences, however accidental
and fortuitous, are still a remarkable proof for the constant interrelation between the
practices at Yule-tide and the fertility rites.
It has often been observed that the different customs of the Yule festival show the
double character of a commemoration of the dead and a fertility ceremony 55). On the
other hand when discussing agrarian rites relating to the harvest it must be borne in
mind that the cult of the dead has exerted a strong influence upon them. The present
form of popular rites and practices is always the result of a long development during
which several influences have [23] been continually intermingling. So the same
custom may have very different meanings 56). When people during Yule set aside
food and drink for the supernatural powers, the idea of a sacrifice is obvious; still it
makes a great difference whether it is given to the dead ancestors, to the
underbyggarna or to the house spirit (hustomten), although even these mythical
beings have many points in common. When the floor is thickly covered with fresh
straw, this may be a way of adorning the room; at the same time it serves as a resting
place for the family, the bedsteads being left to the spirits of the dead, who will be
present during the Yule-nights. Finally if for this straw the last sheaf is to be used the
custom conveys still another idea: that of bringing the fertility power into the farm. If
a custom that is practised now-a-days has still any significance, then it may be
connected with very different conceptions in the minds of different people; it may
even have several meanings at the same time in the mind of the same person 57).
In Northern countries the corn-harvest is also the beginning of the winter, which holds
sway during an interminable series of months. The field lies hidden under a thick
covering of snow waiting for the coming of the new spring. The days of the winter-
solstice are a period of utter darkness, but at the same time a turning-point of high
importance. The forces of fertility will from this day onwards slowly awaken to new
life and the thoughts of the peasant are constantly turning towards the crop of the
coming year. Here is a meeting-point between the waning growing-power of the
former year and the waxing one of the following. Now, by any small inadvertency,
this essence of fertility, being in the weakest possible condition, may be lost
altogether. Hence it is necessary to secure its continuation and it is only natural that
the last sheaf, containing this very 'fertilizing power, plays a prominent part in the
ceremonial festivals of this time. [24]
But in these days the dead forefathers are commemorated. The reason of their being
honoured especially at Yule-tide is not sufficiently clear; the influence of the
Christian church may have caused considerable changes in the original state of things.
At any rate, autumn seems to be very appropriate for a sacrifice to the dead. All kinds
of spirits are then freely moving through the upper-world 57); the darkness and the
storms are peopled with a host of mythical beings by the terrified imagination of man.
Feasts of the dead and rites of fertility took place in the same months, occasionally
even during the same weeks. A mutual influence was inevitable. As soon as the power
of fertility had been developed into a personal being and on the other hand the dead
ancestors were considered to be responsible for the fertility of the soil, it would be
quite impossible to make any clear distinction between the two categories of mythical
beings. The gradual change of the impersonal growing essence into a definite animal
or human shape seems to me mainly due to the influence exerted by the conception of
the relation between the dead ancestors and the fertility of the soil.
So in a general way we may be convinced of a constant interrelation between both
series of religious practices and representations. Are there, moreover, any special
motives to account for their being so inextricably commingled?
5. The Wild Hunt and Othin
The animal forms of the vegetation spirit are in many respects the same as those of the
souls of the dead. So the dog, the horse, the hare, the pig are likewise known as
belonging to the realm of death as well as to the mysterious powers of fertility. It is
difficult to decide in which [25] connection each animal has originated. The pig, as
the animal of astonishing fecundity seems exceedingly appropriate for the
theriomorphic representation of the fertility spirit; on the other hand it may easily be
brought into close connection with the inhabitants of the underworld because it likes
to root in the ground with its snout. Why should it not be possible that it has been
applied to two different religious conceptions from the very beginning?
Of course it must be borne in mind that the intimate relations between the religious
representations of the powers of fertility and the spirits of the dead belong to the very
essence of these notions. But they are so very complicated that they have, each
separately, their domain as well. The idea of the last sheaf as the residence of the
growing power of the corn-field has nothing to do with spirits of the dead; so the Wild
Hunt has no connection whatever with agricultural practices. Still during the long
ages of development even in such originally widely separated domains, mutual
influences have been at work and these influences were not only the result of
similitudes in the religious attitude towards the powers of death and of fertility, but
even of fortuitous and superficial points of contact.
The ideas of the Wild Hunt are a case in point. In large parts of the Germanic world
we meet with the belief in a ferocious spirit riding about during the stormy nights of
autumn and winter. In the southern parts of Germany, as well as on the borders of the
Lower Rhine and in Thuringia people believe that a host of raging spirits (das
Wtende Heer) is sweeping along in the gales; these spirits are commonly considered
to be damned souls, who must restlessly wander till the Day of Judgment. But we find
also another conception: a spectral huntsman is careering along on his horse, pursuing
a naked female whom he finally catches and throws in front of him across the back of
his steed. This is the popular belief in the-plains [26] of Northern Germany and in the
Scandinavian countries, but it is deeply rooted also in England and in Northern France
58).
A treatment of this belief in its details lies beyond the scope of this paper; moreover
we have an excellent monograph on the subject by Axel Olrik in Dania. VIII entitled
Odinsjgeren i Jylland. In contiguous and even partly overlapping regions of the
Scandinavian territory where the custom of sacrificing the last sheaf or bundle of
grass 'to the horse of Othin is known, the Wild Huntsman is identified with the same
god. And we are justified in concluding that in both cases the name of Othin has been
introduced into a mythical conception which originally perhaps had nothing to do
with this heathen deity. Still it seems natural that Othin was not brought into
connection with these spheres of religious belief quite independently; it is more likely
that he has first been adopted in one of them and afterwards transferred to the other.
Which of them has to be considered as the first stage of this development, does not
seem difficult to say. The close connection of Othin and his horse makes it clear that
it is as Lord of the Dead he started on this new career. This is too the opinion of Olrik,
who says on p. 162 of the above mentioned paper, that the transition of the Wild
Huntsman to a deity, a supernatural being of a friendly character, is very abrupt and
fanciful, neither is it the logical result of the original animistic belief, nor does it
belong to the same development as the local traditions. The Wild Huntsman shows the
tendency to grow into a god of the cattle, a god of the corn or a god of the homestead
59).
There is then, besides the problem of the relation between Othin and modern
agricultural practices, still another question: the connection between the leader of the
Wild Hunt in popular belief and the heathen divinity. It is again Axel Olrik who has
formulated this problem with his [27] usual acumen. The Wild Huntsman is named
Othin only in a very limited territory, especially in Southern Sweden and the Juttish
peninsula; we may perhaps add Westphalia, where we find the names as Woenjger,
Hodenjger and Bodenjger, furthermore the coast of the North Sea, where he is
called Woiinjger, and Holstein with the name of the Wohljger. But besides these
regions we find him called simply the Wild Huntsman, Der Wilde Jger. Have we
to consider these last regions as having forgotten his original divine name, or must we
suppose on the other hand that we find here the primitive conception of a nameless
spirit which has afterwards developed into a personal god and has been confounded
with Otbin?
Olrik does not venture to come to a conclusion before entering upon a more elaborate
investigation of the various forms of this popular belief; still it seems necessary to me
to make at any rate some observations of a more theoretical character and to come to a
provisional conclusion, although the attempt is not likely to yield an entirely
satisfactory result.
The choice must be made not between two, but between three possibilities: for we
have not only a Wild Huntsman with no name whatever and a god Othin, but we have
also this same mythical being with a name that, although bearing some resemblance
with that of the pagan deity, still shows signs of a more original form and of a higher
antiquity. Just as the last sheaf is sacrificed not only to the horse of Othin, but also to
a demon Wode, Wold, Waul, so the Wild Huntsman is called in one region Un or
Wjen, in another Woejger, or Wohljger. I do not agree with Olrik that these latter
names should be explained as later modifications of an original name Wodan. At any
rate we have to consider the striking fact that the corn-spirit too has the same shorter
names which may be after all a more original form than the divine name Wodan 60).
[28]
It is indeed hard to say of how many different religious conceptions the present
popular superstitions about the Wild Hunt are the result. When we say that during the
storms of winter the damned souls are racing along through the sky, we give by such a
sentence the result of a historical development in which at least three different layers
may be distinguished.
The most primitive is the effect of natural phenomena upon human mind; the roaring
and whistling of a furious storm, dashing through the trees of the forest or sweeping
across the farm-yard, makes man shudder with the impression of frightful
supernatural forces. The weird cries of birds of passage flying through the sky in the
dark of the night can make a deep impression upon the imagination. The Danish
folklorist Feilberg has had the following experience in the neighbourhood of Odense
61): as he once came home in the evening, he heard just at the moment of opening the
house-door, a buzzing noise far away but rapidly approaching. Presently the barking
and howling of dogs was heard and when it was right over him it seemed as if all the
dogs of Odense were engaged in a most desperate fight. Feilberg, however, was a
clear-minded young man; he at once remembered the traditions of the Wild Hunter
who sweeps along with his dogs through the sky and the next day he asked his teacher
what kind of migratory birds he might have heard 62). Primitive man, naturally, was
only struck with awe by such a strange phenomenon.
The idea of spirits moving invisibly through the sky lay near at hand as an explanation
of such terrifying cries and noises; at all events they could not be explained otherwise
than as a manifestation of living beings. These spirits may have been considered
simply as the representations of natural phenomena such as the stormwind, the roaring
forest, in a human form, or else as mortal souls freed from the [29] body by death.
The fact that the furious storms are much more frequent in autumn and winter and that
the long dark winter nights are especially favourable for such conceptions coming into
being, and that the birds of passage are going southwards during this part of the year,
may account for the belief that the spirits of the dead are hovering about at this same
time and are then particularly dangerous.
Modern superstition regards them as damned souls; here we meet the third, the
Christian layer. According to Christian belief these souls obviously have this dreadful
fate as a punishment for actions by which they transgressed the divine laws 63). But
the germ of this conception certainly lies already in heathen times, when the dead
ancestors were supposed to reside in the burial mound of the family, while those,
feared by man for their cruelty, their witchcraft or other uncommon mental qualities,
might leave their graves to worry the living. Especially those who had fallen in battle
and whose corpses were left to the wolf and the raven, could find no rest after death;
they formed an army of spirits continuously fighting on with the fury of their supreme
battle. The Old Norse traditions about the battle of the Hjaningar as well as the
religious conceptions of the einherjar, are offsprings of this same root.
But the South Scandinavian tradition does not know the conception of a raging host of
spirits (das wtende Heer), but of a Wild Huntsman. So here the idea of Othin as the
lord of the warriors fallen in battle probably does not lie at the bottom of this
superstition. The Wild Huntsman is not necessarily a lonely wanderer through the
darkness for he may be followed by a train of other huntsmen, just like any real
hunting-party; and so both notions are imperceptably flowing into each other. The
Aasgaardsrei or in a more phonetic form, the Oskorei, of Norwegian folklore seems to
me more like a spiritual host than a Wild Hunt. But in Danish tradition the idea of a
[30] solitary huntsman prevails, pursuing the female spirits of the forest. And it is as
Odinsjgeren that he constantly appears to the Juttish peasants. The ties that bind
this figure of lower mythology with the heathen god Othin, seem to me rather weak.
6. The meaning of the word Wd
Besides the name of Othin which lingered on in popular tradition we find a shorter
form Wde or Wd. If we reject the opinion that it is only a defective form of Wdan,
worn out during so many ages, we are necessarily driven to the conclusion that Wde
is the more original, Wdan the more developed form. A bit of etymology may
elucidate the real character of the relation between these two words.
In great parts of Germany people speak of Das wtende Heer". The leader of this
host of spirits must be inspired especially by this fury or Wut. He is the furious one
in the most absolute sense. The connection between this Wut and the racial element
of the name Wde and Wdan is of great importance and to determine it we must
study the exact meaning of these words.
The proper meaning of the word Wut is, as far as the extant documents are concerned,
exclusively that of a high mental excitement. The Gothic translation of the Gospel
uses the word wos in the story of the possessed man cured by Jesus (St. Mark. V, 15
and 18); here it renders the Greek words daimonizomenos and daimonistheis. The Old
German translation of Tatian has for the Latin words: demonium habet et insanit the
translation er habet diuual inti vvuotit 64). Mental derangement is the common idea
this word conveys. Isidor renders the sentence Quod ita existimare magnae dementiae
est with dhazs so zi chilaubanne mihhil uuootnissa [31] ist. As a translation of
freneticus, furiosus, lyphaticus 65) it does not mean a violent movement, a rushing
onward in blind fury, but the being possessed by a spiritual force, being in the state of
a daimonios.
The Old Norse language has three different words r: n. a noun meaning intellect
or poetic genius, 2. an adjective raging, furious, terrible, 3. a proper name r as
the name of a god. The adjective is used in many cases, where the meaning is only
furious, in a highly excited movement, as when the storm, the sea or the fire are
called r. The adverb tt often means simply quick, swift. In str. 43 of Atlakvia
we read the words: varr hafe Atle an sik drukkit; r is here the mental state of
drunkenness, which, however, according to the heathen conceptions, in many cases
does not simply mean a kind of bewilderment, but the being possessed by a divine
force. The noun r clearly has the same meaning. Its use as a word for the poetic
genius is very significant; this is always considered as the result of the spiritual force
entering the human mind 66). In the myth of man's creation, as it is told in the
Vlusp, we read: nd gaf enn, gaf Hnir (St. 18); usually rendered as Othin
gave breath, Hnir intellect and this is certainly substantially correct. But r is not
the sedate use of one's mental qualities as distinguishing it from animal 67); it is a god
who inspired the first man and accordingly it is the same divine spirit,, that manifests
itself most perfectly in a state of high excitement 68). For the poet of the Vluspa the
gift of this god is not common sense but the ecstatic state of mind when by the
inspiration of a god, man sees visions, creates poetry and grasps new ideas.
7. r and inn
The third meaning of the Old Norse r is the name a god. Here we are placed before
a double problem: [32] what is the relation between this r and the Wde of popular
lore, what between r and inn? The question is a difficult one, because the
original meaning of r does not become clear from extant literary tradition. In the
Snorra Edda (c. .34) it is told that Freyja was married to r and that their daughter
was Hnoss (= jewel). But r went away on a far journey and Freyja wept golden
tears. Under many different names she travelled from people to people in search of
her husband who had disappeared. This myth is alluded to in a skaldic verse of about
1020, Skuli orsteinsson using the kenning Freyju tr for gold 69). And more than a
century later Einarr Skulason calls gold augna regn s bevinu 70). If Snorri's myth
of the wandering r is more than a mere conclusion from this kenning of Einarr
Skulason which he quotes in his chapter on the kenningar for gold 71), then it has a
very singular resemblance with a myth of Othin who too is said to have been absent
from his home for a long time. But his wife Frigg was not faithful to him, according
to the account in the Ynglingasaga and in the first book of Saxo Grammaticus.
If the only myth which is told of r is found also among the many traditions about
Othin, then we may ask if the relation between r and Freyja is not of the same
nature as that between Othin and Frigg. Now these female deities are difficult to
distinguish from one another; both names, alliterating with each other, are
appellatives, one meaning the mistress, the other the beloved one. Frigg is known
all over the Teutonic world, as is proved already by the name of the Friday; Freyja
however is particularly Scandinavian and the name is obviously formed after the
example of Freyr; most scholars hold her to be the same deity as the Nerthus about
whom Tacitus speaks in his Germania.
The scanty information we possess admits of many explanations, because if Freyja is
a later form of Nerthus, [33] she is also an offshoot of Frigg. The occidental Germanic
tribes in the first centuries of our era knew both Frigg (here called Frija) and Nerthus
(or at least a goddess corresponding with this deity); may we conclude that they are
originally the same goddess? As Friday is a translation of dies Veneris, we may
assume that the divinity whose name has the meaning the beloved one was a
goddess of love.
More than ten centuries later the poet of the Lokasenna says of her: hefir vergirn
verit. But this conception is not incompatible with the character of Nerthus who as a
goddess of the fertilizing powers in the earth might be considered as giving fertility to
mankind also. As a chthonic force she was considered with awe and might be called
Freyja, just as Persephone had the name Despoina. And Frija or Frigg might be a kind
of noa-name used to avert the danger which the invocation of this terrible goddess
might produce. The connection of the goddess Frija of the continental Germans with
the fertility of the soil and the agricultural rites seems moreover to be proved by the
fact that Friday is still considered to he a propitious day for the sowing 72).
8. Some observations on the names of Othin and of other
Scandinavian deities
It seems to me that we are entitled to consider r and inn as two different forms
of the same divine power. As r can only be glimpsed very vaguely in the
background of the heathen pantheon and as Othin on the contrary is seen in his full
vigour and glory, it is obvious that the latter deity is a later and more developed
specimen of the former. Even the name points in this same direction; compared with
the short form r, the name inn is a derivative. [34]
Nouns in -ina, -ana are rather rare in the Germanic languages; they belong to an early
stratum of derivations and are used to denote persons of high rank or condition.
The Gothic word iudans is the same as O. E. eoden, O. N. jann and means
the king, as the chief of the iuda or the people. O. E. dryhten, O. N. drttinn is the
leader of the host, the comitatus". Gothic kindins used to translate hgemon
originally denotes the chief of the *kind or clan (cf. Latin gens). To the same group of
words belong the Burgundian title hendinos for the king and the word thunginus in the
Lex Salica, meaning centenarius. As these words occur in all three groups of the
Teutonic languages we may surmise that they are of the highest antiquity; the
formation with this suffix itself reaches back into the Indo-European period as is
proved by such words as Skr. karana, janana, Gr. koiranos and Lat. dominus, tribunus,
patronus 73).
The name binn, Wuotan, in its Old Germanic form * Woanaz denotes this divine
power as a being in anthropomorphic form, moreover as a manlike being of high rank
and power. The shorter word r, Wod(e) does not convey this same meaning; its
older form *Wouz, which is found in the proper name Wourie on the runic stone
of Tune, shows its derivation by means of the Indo-European suffix -tu, which usually
forms abstract nouns made from verbal roots, in some instances however also nomina
agentis, such as Gothic hliftus thief belonging to hlifan to steal or Old Norse
smir from the verbal root *smi-, *smi- 74). So etymological evidence makes it
possible that the name r means the fury as well as the furious one.
The Old Norse pantheon has more instances of gods with names in -ina, ana 75). So
inn is called jann as the supreme chief of the people (or perhaps as the king of
the gods) or Herjan which is related to the [35] Gothic word harjis and accordingly
has the meaning of the leader of the host. The comparison with the Gr. koiranos
makes the formation of this word particularly clear. Perhaps we may add the name
Leudanus, used as a surname of Mercury on a Latin inscription (CIL XIII 7859) as it
has been suggested by Marstrander 76), who connects this word with O. N. lr, 0. H.
G. liut people''.
The female form of this suffix would be -ano, which we find in the names of some
female deities mentioned by classical authors, such as Tanfana and Hludana (with a
latinized ending -ana for original -ano). These names, however, are despairingly
obscure. Marstrander tries to explain the former as a mistake for *tafnana, which
might be brought into connection with Old Teutonic *tafna-'sacrificial animal,
sacrifice (cf. O. N. tafn). No more satisfactory is the explanation of Hludana which
may be derived from a Germanic *hlua, of unknown origin, as Marstrander avows.
So he does not venture to connect it with the word *hlua, *hlua to be found in
proper names such as Chlotharius, Chiodavichus, as has been done already by
Mllcnhoff 77), nor does he accept an identification with the Old Norse Hlyn as
has been proposed by several scholars 78), although the forms of the two words do
not fully agree.
Of more importance are the following names of Old Norse tradition. The study of
place names, which is carried to a high perfection by Magnus Olsen 79), has led to the
result that people used divine names which do not occur in our literary sources and
formed in the same way with the suffix -inn. Magnus Olsen has discovered the
otherwise unknown divinities Fillinn and Ullinn. Fillinn is the protector of the field
and the word goes back to an older form *Felanaz. Ullinn, according to the evidence
given by the place names, stands in close connection with this god of the cultivated
earth ; it corresponds with the [36] name, well known from Eddic mythology, Ullr,
developed from an original form *Wuluz.
Here we have the same relation between the names Ullr and Ullinn, as between r
and inn, the shorter forms are Ullr and r, both stems in -u; the longer ones are
Ullinn and inn, both derived by means of the suffix -ana 8o). The name Ullr
corresponds with the Gothic wulus, an abstract noun meaning glory, magnificence",
and it is often explained as god of the brilliant heaven 81); so it may have had as its
original meaning a divine person, whose activity consists in cosmical brilliancy.
Finally the same word-formation is found in the name Nerthus which Tacitus in his
Germania mentions as a female deity of fertility. Nerthus, the Old Norse Njrr, is
consequently derived from a root *ner- which may have had the meaning force,
vigour", 82). If the formation with the suffix -u has in this case the same meaning as
in r and Ullr, then Nerthus might be the divinity who gives this fertilizing power.
If we take into account that this root ner- is used as a word for man (Skr. nara, Gr.
anr), then it seems probable that the original meaning was virile power, especially
in the sense of procreative power. We find quite the same idea in the Latin word
Nerio Martis which means the virile force of Mars and as this god originally was a
deity of fertility, this nerio may distinquish him not as the valiant warrior, but as the
god of procreation.
The Scandinavian peoples venerated a male god Njrr, which is according to the
soundlaws the same word as Nerthus and it agrees quite well with the original
significance of the root *ner- that he was a god, not a goddess. Usually scholars
consider him to be a later form of the female divinity mentioned by Tacitus, the
reason of the changing of sex being the fact, that stems in -u most commonly had a
masculine gender 83). I think it altogether [37] improbable that a deity should have
changed its sex only because the form of the word could favour such a change and I
am inclined, on the contrary, to suppose, that this deity Njrr has been from the very
outset a male god; what must be explained is not the male gender of Njrr but the
female sex of Nerthus.


It seems to me quite possible that Tacitus has misunderstood the exact meaning of the
rite he heard something about and which he himself never saw practised. He identifies
this goddess with Terra Mater and indeed the cult with the cart drawn by cows and the
bathing of the divine image in a river or a lake is the same for both the Roman and the
German goddess. The conformity may indeed have been strong; still it is possible that
Tacitus has lent some details from the Roman cult to the German one. Then Nerthus
may have been a male deity whose cult was celebrated by solemnities of which a
female divinity had her share too; if this goddess was the Earth, then a name as f. i.
*Er could very easily have been confused with the name *Neru- of her male
counterpart, who in consequence was considered as a female divinity by the
informants of Tacitus 84).
But I will not insist upon this side of the problem. For my purpose it is enough to
point out the existence of a god Nerthus or Njrr whose name is formed in quite the
same way as r and Ullr. If there had existed a longer name of this god, just as
inn corresponds to r and Ullinn to Ulir, then we might expect a word *Neranaz
which would have been in Old Norse * Nirinn. This name, however, is unknown; but
there is the name of a female deity which seems to belong to this same group of
words. The skalds use in the kennings for woman sometimes the name Njrun
which presupposes an older form *Neran, a form related to the root * ner- (or even
neru-) in the same way as the masculine word Ullinn to [38] *wulu-. Then Njorun is
derived from the originally shorter form *neru- and it is quite probable that it is a
name for the earthgoddess; we may even add: here we possibly have the Scandinavian
form of the goddess that Tacitus compared with the Terra Mater 85).
I wish to leave this dangerous province of mythological etymology and return to a
more solid basis. The importance of the names r, Ullr and Njorr with regard to
their form seems to me not fully appreciated by scholars of Teutonic mythology. The
correspondence between them in having the same suffix -tu can not be fortuitous; on
the contrary it is a strong proof in favour of the opinion that these three divine names
belong together and that the divinities, who bear these names, were of the same kind
in their relation to man. It is here not the place to discuss, the startling fact, that these
divinities have names of such an abstract character; it will now be sufficient to
consider the formation with the suffix u and the interrelation between the names
Or, Ullr and Njrr as a proof of the high antiquity of the figure of Or and as the
formation of Oinn belongs to a period which lies before the historical times as well, I
see no reason why this god should have been a later development in the Old Norse
religious system.
9. The myth of the temporal disappearance of Othin
After this rather long but indispensable digression I wish to return to the subject of
this paper: the relation between the Wodan-like deity of popular lore and the heathen
god. We have found the belief in a demoniac leader of the Wild Hunt who in the
Western part of Denmark is usually called by the name of Othin and on the other hand
we have met with a demon of fertility, to whom offerings were made at harvest-time
and who is named [39] after Othin in the Eastern part of Denmark and in the Southern
districts of Sweden. So we have to distinguish between two different conceptions of
the god Othin in popular tradition: between a god of the dead and a god of fertility. Of
course we might solve this question in a very easy way by referring to the well
established fact that a god of the underworld in many religions is at the same time
connected with the fertilizing powers of the soil; we might even consider the horse, to
whom the Swedish peasant sacrifices the last sheaf, as a typical form of the infernal
spirits 86), but it seems to me that this is not the right way to arrive at a clear
understanding of the original belief. We want to know why in one part of Scandinavia
Othin has been especially a god of the restless dead and in another part a god of
fertility. So we are obliged to enter again upon a discussion of the original character
of the old Teutonic god Wodan.
The discussion of the names r and inn has led us to the conclusion that both
words are used for the same divine power although at different stages of its religious
development, r being certainly the older form. The identity of these divinities was
furthermore proved by their relation to a curious myth according to which they had
disappeared for a certain period. Gustav Neckel has said in his interesting book on
Balder that the prototype of the weeping Frigg is the moaning Ishtar; although I can
not accept Neckels view of the character of the resemblance between the
Scandinavian and the Babylonian goddesses, I fully agree with him as to the fact that
we have in both cases before us the same religious phenomenon. According to the
Vlusp, Frigg weeps about the death of her son Balder and this is a myth which may
be compared with those of Ishtar and Tamuz, Isis and Osiris, Aphrodite and Adonis,
Cybele and Attis; it belongs to the wide-spread rites of vegetation-divinities. To these
same notions we may [40] reckon the myth of the weeping Frigg in search of her
beloved r; consequently r is at all events according to the meaning of this myth
a god of fertility who represents the vegetation which during winter disappears from
earth 87).
A similar story is told about Othin. He too disappeared for some time; the reason of
his going away is however not sufficiently clear. The Ynglingasaga c. 3 says that he
was in the habitude of travelling about and once having been from home during a very
long period, his brothers appropriated his goods and at the same time his wife Frigg.
When Othin returned he entered again into the possession of both. This tale is
extremely vague: Snorri himself seems not to have understood the meaning of it.
In the Danish history of Saxo Grammaticus the myth of Othin's disappearance is told
twice; in the first book of the Gesta Danorum, Othinus goes away because his wife
Frigga has been unfaithful and another divinity, called Mithotyn, takes his place. The
other story is much more interesting, because it is connected with the death of Balder
and Othin's wooing of Rinda to beget an avenger for him. Then Saxo continues in his
third book the story of Othinus with his expulsion by the gods, on account of his
infamous conduct. The god Ollerus was put in his place and reigned during a period
of ten years, bearing however also the name of Othinus; but then he was in his turn
driven away by the right Othinus and forced to take refuge in Sweden where be was
soon afterwards killed by the Danes.
Without being aware of it, Saxo has inserted in his history two variants of the same
myth, the meaning of which obviously is the disappearing of the vegetation in winter
and its reappearing in spring.
The figure of Othin is divided into two different divinities: an aestival god who freely
reigns in heaven and a [41] winter-Othin who comes in stead of the former one. Saxo
says in his second story that the substitute god, although being in fact Ollerus, was
also called Othinus. So in reality he was Ollerus, the same as the Old Norse Ullr;
perhaps this is a fortuitous combination of Saxo himself; if this is not the case,
however, it seems hard to account for the conception that a god, whose name means
brilliancy, glory should be the representative of the barrenness of winter. He is
called Mithotyn in the first variant, a name which may be explained as a bungled
rendering of the Old Norse in jtur, a word meaning lord, ruler but also fate,
death; this name also does not carry us any farther.
These curious tales, the mythological value of which is rather doubtful, as Saxo
Grammaticus is inaccurate in his renderings of the traditions he has collected, bring us
to the very core of the difficulties. For if it may be supposed that they reveal the
character of Othin as a god of vegetation, there seems to be a contradiction in his
name, as it means "the furious one" or "the god who gives mental excitement". There
are in this case at least three different spheres of activity to which Othin is bound, one
of agricultural rites, another as god of the dead and a third as the bestower of
intellectual qualities. As the name Wodan was already used in the tracts of the Lower
Rhine during the first centuries of our era, as is proved by the name of Wednesday,
we are forced to the rather startling conclusion, that in those very early times his
character as the furious one was clearly predominating.
10. Othin as a God of the Dead
The only way to know something about the real nature of the god Wodan in the
Roman period is by his identification with Mercury. As a rule scholars are prone to
regard it with some distrust and to explain it by assu-[42]ming that there has been
some resemblance between these gods as to their attributes, Othin with his broad-
brimmed hat resembling the classic god with his petasos. Now it was the Romans who
made the comparison and they had certainly no opportunity to compare Germanic
idols with the sumptuous statues of their gods, as according to Tacitus no images were
to be seen in the Germanic fanes. So it is altogether improbable that the identification
of Othin and Mercury has come about in this way. The Romans were excellent
observers and in this case too they hit the mark, which is proved sufficiently by the
fact that the conception of Mercury 88) in many respects has a very close affinity with
that of Othin.
Both are gods of the dead, leading the crowds of spirits, both wander restlessly
through the world, Mercury as the protector of merchants and travellers, Othin as the
visitor of his elected heroes; both are gods of magic craft, both are the inventors of the
arts of writing and of poetry. There seems then to be reason enough for an
identification of these deities and I think we may venture to conclude that these
similarities, at any rate most of them, existed in the period when the Romans made
acquaintance with the Germanic tribes. And so I quite agree with H. M. Chadwick
who says 89), that the identification of Wodan and Mercury would be inexplicable
unless the higher idea of the god's character was already to some extent developed.
So the earliest attainable form of Wdan is that of a god of the dead having his abode
in the realms of the underworld. By his relations with the secret powers of the earth he
is in possession of the great mysteries of the fructifying and vivifying powers; he
knows the secret of life which is entrusted to the Lord of Death; he is the inventor of
magic arts 90) including those of poetry and of writing, both intimately connected
with these religious [43] conceptions. Here at the very dawn of history we find a god
whose character is already very complicated, who in fact may have shown the three
different religious conceptions, which we have enumerated above 91).
Are we justified in applying these conclusions to the Scandinavian Othin? This god
known to us from sources that are nearly a thousand years later may show a quite
different character. In fact he does, for if the connection with rites of fertility is hardly
visible, he has become the supreme lord of battle, which the German Wdan certainly
was not, as the god of war whose name the Romans rendered by Mars has been
identical with the Scandinavian Tr. This must be the result of a later development
during the long ages of warfare which are commonly called by the name of the
Migration of Peoples 92). The paramount importance of the chieftains and their
warriors raised the god of the dead to the divine protector of the heroes and made him
the glorious king of the heavenly Walhalla, in stead of the gloomy ruler of a
subterranean cave of death 93).
II. The place of Othin in the
Scandinavian religion
There is a strong tendency among modern scholars to consider the Old-Norse Othin as
a divinity of a rather late date and even of a foreign origin. His worship is supposed to
have started among the tribes of the Lower Rhine and in the first centuries of our era
to have been adopted by other Teutonic peoples as well, till at last he had culminated
into the supreme god of the Icelandic mythology 94). This view was first developed
by the Danish scholar Henry Petersen, who adduced a mass of evidence which did not
fail to make a profound impression upon the learned world, scholars being
particularly inclined to [44] any hypothesis which attacked the originality of heathen
deities. New facts were adduced in course of time and so gradually a common opinion
began to prevail of the foreign and even rather late origin of Othin in the
Scandinavian mythology.
It is an incontestable fact that there are abundant proofs of the worship of Wdan
among the continental Teutons 95). But, of course, his being venerated in Germany
does not exclude his worship in Scandinavia. Now the evidence of his being more a
continental than a Scandinavian deity seemed to be corroborated by some singular
facts which could be explained as indications of the rather small importance of Othin
in the original religion of the Northern peoples. The study of the place-names
containing the name of a heathen god, has led to the result that the name of Othin is
very seldom found in topographical names of Western Scandinavia. The Icelandic
tradition is remarkably bare of any indication of an actual worship of him. More
evidence has come forth with regard to Sweden and Denmark; Adam of Bremen tells
us that in the famous temple of Upsala a statue of Othin was erected and the sanctuary
of Odense (= Oinsv) proves by its name the worship of this god in the Danish
islands.
Even as a god of runic art which is so remarkable a characteristic of the Old-Norse
Othin, he seems to have been an usurper of the fame which belonged properly to other
deities. On the bracteates we often find a couple of runes which according to Sophus
Bugge possibly denote the old war-god Tr 96), but we never meet with the name of
Othin. Even in the runic inscriptions on tombstones the name of Othin is never found
whilst that of Thr occurs in a couple of these monuments 97).
We seem to be justified in surmising that the cult of Othin has come from the South,
establishing itself firmly in Denmark and being readily accepted by the Swedes [45]
who, however, worshipped as their chief god Freyr. The German scholar F. R.
Schrder 98) is of opinion that the cult of Othin has spread to the North in connection
with the art of runic writing and he thinks that it was the people of the Herules who
carried this current of civilisation to the North 99). Karl Helm goes even so far as to
say 1oo) that the principal gods of the Scandinavians viz. Tr, Thr, Othin and the
Vanir have all been introduced into the pantheon of the Northern peoples as a result of
cultural influences from different parts of Europe. But religious conceptions and the
cult of gods do not travel so easily as coins, utensils and ornaments 101).
What conclusive force have the arguments produced in favour of this hypothesis that
Othin is a late intruder upon the domain of the Scandinavian religion or at any rate
that a great many of his most interesting qualities are a later accretion as the result of
foreign influence? I am of course quite prepared to admit that the importance of Othin
in the Scandinavian pantheon increased in the course of so many ages and that he may
have been a rather obscure god in the beginning. Some scholars have put forth the
view that it was only the development of Othin to the chief god of the Old-Norse
pantheon, with his extraordinary mental and spiritual qualities, that should be
attributed to this foreign influence. But then this more primitive Scandinavian god
must have borne the same name r or inn, for if he had not, it would be
impossible for us to arrive at any idea about his original significance. A god who
misses the most characteristic qualities of Othin and who has not even his name, is a
conception too vague to lend itself to discussion.
If, however, this more primitive deity has already been called r (or perhaps Othin)
then we may be fairly sure that one of his prominent characteristics was the fury or
mental excitement, which is intimately connected with his [46] intellectual quality as
shown by the Old-Norse traditions 102). So, though his importance in the religious
representations of the Viking Age or in the mythological speculations may have
increased considerably, yet his character was, as far back as we can show, the same,
and his later complicated figure was the result of a natural development from this
original conception.
To account for the remarkable fact that there are so very few place-names and even
personal names containing the name of Othin, I wish to draw the attention to a side of
this divinity which I have not yet mentioned. The oath which had to be taken before
entering a law-suit at the Icelandic allthing was pronounced in the name of Freyr,
Njord and hinn allmtki Ass 103). To the question which god is meant by this
circumlocution, the answer is generally that it is Thor, because he is invoked
whenever a private or public ceremony is celebrated. It is, however, more probable
that it is Othin.
Generally oaths are placed under the awful protection of the Lord of Death 104); for
such a solemn affirmation usually has the form of a self-curse, by which the oath-
taker gives himself into the power of the god of the dead should he be a perjurer.
Moreover at the great sacrifices in Norway three cups were drunk in honour of three
different gods viz. Othin as the first and then Njord and Freyr 105). This in my
opinion tends to prove that the allmighty ss of the oath is no other than Othin. Why
should the genial protector of mankind, Thor, if he were meant in this formula, be
invoked as though it were dangerous to pronounce his real name? This fear on the
other hand is very natural with regard to Othin. Then the oath formula proves the
great importance of Othin in the social institutions of the Scandinavians. A
remarkable feature is the fear to use his name; this can account for the almost total
absence of proper names containing it as [47] one of the elements. But then we may
ask: is the ss, occurring in numerous names, as svaldr, sgeirr, sbjrn, smundr
etc. not really the same as Othin, who in this disguise may enter into proper-names
106)?
Othin is the principal ss. In the curious magical stanza, which Egill pronounces
when laying his curse upon the Norwegian king Eirkr, he invokes besides Freyr and
Njrr the landss, who in the light of what we have said above can be none other
than Othin. If this be the case then we may expect to learn something more about his
original character, when we know what is meant by the word ss. In the mythological
poetry of the Viking Age it is a name for the gods in general sometimes Freyr and
Njord however are treated separately as Vanir.
But this was not the original meaning of the name. An Icelandic saga tells about a
man who is venerated after his death as Brr Snfellsss; surely here the word
means something more simple and primitive: i. e. the dead ancestor who has become
an object of veneration. This is, moreover, corroborated by the belief of the Goths,
which Jordanes 107) mentions: Gothi proceres suos quorum quasi fortuna vincebant,
non puros homines, sed semideos id est Ansis vocaverunt 1o8). Godlike beings, not
yet gods, that was the' original meaning and the etymology which connects the word
ss or ss, in its older Scandinavian form *ansuR with the same root as Lat. anima,
Gr. anemos, Skr. aniti, Goth usanan, strengthens this conclusion.
12. Conceptions of the spirits of the dead
So as surely means the spirit of a dead man but at the same time as an object of
veneration 109). It is not those miserable ghosts roaming about restlessly in the
wailing storms of the winter, but the protector and benefactor of [48] the family who
is buried in the neighbourhood of the dwelling, which the descendants continue to
inhabit. In the course of many generations he gathers here the deceased members of
his clan and in a wider scope the glorious chieftain of a tribe becomes after his death
the venerated protector of the people, such as the king Olfr Geirstaalfr according
to the Norwegian tradition 110).
This is one side of the relation between the living and the dead; the other is that of
awe and fear. Othin as the lord of Walhall is the god of the dead warriors who have
fallen on the battlefield and are assembled in a subterranean cave where they are often
supposed to continue their fierce struggle. Still Walhall seems to me a specialized
form of a more general conception: the Germanic peoples knew a realm of death,
which they called hell, whither all people were believed to descend after death.
Here again, as we find so often in the religious beliefs of primitive as well as of
civilized peoples, different conceptions, which seem to exclude one another, are
current at the same time. The dead are gathered in a common underworld, the warriors
fallen in battle dwell in a cave or a mountain in the neighbourhood of the battlefield,
the members of the family live on in their grave-mound, drowned men go down to the
bottom of the sea. The conception of the god of death may be coloured by these
various beliefs; he is at the same time the ruler of the underworld, the deified ancestor
of the clan, the ghostly leader of the wandering spirits.
Besides these conceptions, there lingered on into the last days of heathendom other
beliefs of an even more primitive nature. The spirits of the dead manifest themselves
also in the shape of animals; so we hear about the eagle Hrsvelgr, and the infernal
dog Garmr, about ravens and wolves as particularly connected with Othin and of very
great importance: the horse. Modern popular belief [49] still knows a great deal about
the hell-horse; in heathen times the horse of Othin played a prominent part in the
myths of this deity.
If it may be accepted as a general rule that theriomorphic divinities are older than
anthropomorphic gods and that the latter in many instances are developed from the
former than we could infer that the conception of Othin with his horse was a later
form of the much more primitive idea of a death-spirit in the shape of a horse 111).
Still this view 112) is in my opinion not in accordance with the facts and only the
result of the adaptation of general principles of comparative religion to the facts of the
mythological traditions of the Teutonic peoples; I think it much more probable that
the conceptions of the horse of death and of an anthropomorphic death-spirit have
existed at the same time and naturally in the course of many ages have been
combined.
In my opinion the character of Othin is much too complicated to exhaust its meaning
by the simple formula of an original death-spirit; there are some peculiar facts in the
traditions about him which point rather in the direction of a divine creator of the
universe, a conception we meet with in several primitive religions. But as this belongs
to quite a different order of things from that I am discussing in this paper, I will limit
myself to this provisional remark, the more so as I hope to treat of this question
elsewhere at full length.
13. The relation between Wd and Othin
I have now paved the way for a discussion of the relation between the pagan god
Othin and his namesake in modern popular traditions. The god Othin, in his older
form r, is of so high an antiquity, that it is altogether impossible to arrive at a
period within the limits of his-[50]tory, when he did not exist. Especially in Denmark
we have no reason whatever to assume that in the beginning of our era his cult was
either unknown or hardly developed and that it first came to a noteworthy
development through the influence of tribes along the Lower Rhine. I agree with
Chadwick who makes the following statement 113): Moreover we can hardly doubt
that Woden, the god who gives victory and treasure and who rewards his votaries with
a future life spent in fighting and feasting, was the deity par excellence of the
Migration period; especially among the Angli whose princes claimed to he descended
from him.
If, however, in the fourth and fifth centuries the Germanic tribes who invaded Great
Britain already venerated Wodan in such a highly developed form, the continental
stock in Jutland whence they started must have known him as no less a complicated
deity. So we are obliged to conclude that since highest antiquity the Germanic peoples
have known the idea of a corn-spirit, to which the last sheaf was dedicated, as well as
the conception of the god Othin. But we may safely contend that they belong to two
different spheres of religious representations and that in the case of the harvest-
sacrifice the figure of Wodan or Othin is of a relatively late origin. Neither as lord of
the dead spirits in their ghostly form of the Wild Hunt, nor as a god of fertility, does
Othin belong to the agrarian customs of the last sheaf.
The way, however, in which the connection of this divinity with these rites has come
about is not clear and many possibilities may be taken into consideration, the more so,
because we do not know when the connection took place. It may have been already in
heathen times, it may also have been after the coming of Christianity and as the result
of the unfavourable conception of Othin as an infernal demon. [51]
So if some straws of grass are left to the horse of Othin, this may have been connected
with Othin in many different ways. The grass or the corn-sheaf, left on the field
disappeared in the course of winter; it was eaten by the birds, the mice, the rabbits or
other wild animals. So the spiritual beings to whom this sacrifice was made, accepted
it: if the corn-spirit was supposed to be a horse, as it is still now-a-days in different
parts of Germany, England and France 114), then it lay near at hand to think, that
these last blades of grass or stalks of corn not only represented the vegetation-spirit in
its horse-shape, but that they were at the same time an offering to the horse.
As soon as there existed also the belief in a supernatural being which was thought
active during winter and was connected with a horse, this last sheaf could be
considered as a sacrifice to it 115). There is no certainty that the popular custom of
leaving the last blades of grass, as found now-a-days in Denmark and Sweden,
belongs originally to the cult of Othin ; and we have no right whatever to make use of
this piece of modern lore for the reconstruction of the old pagan belief. From time
immemorial Othin was known to the people as the god of the dead; as a leader of the
Wild Hunt in winter he belongs as well to a very high antiquity, if not to the heathen
period proper, at any rate to the first centuries after Christianisation; at any time
harvest rites of this kind might have been brought into connection with him. I should
even venture to say that this was more probable after Othin had been debased to a
demon rather than in the heathen period when Othin was gradually rising to a divinity
of high importance.
But if we reject the opinion that Othin originally belonged to the harvest-customs of
Southern Scandinavia then might it not be possible that this divinity in an older and
more primitive form had been connected with these agri-[52]cultural customs? If not
Wodan, could it not have been Wd(e)? In this case it would be necessary to know
exactly what is the meaning of Wd(e). There are three opinions possible: 1.
according to the evidence of modern folklore, Wd(e) is a demon who is at the same
time the leader of the Wild Hunt and an object of veneration in harvest-cults, 2.
according to the literary traditions about heathen mythology, he is a god who seems to
be closely connected with Othin and possibly has had some importance in rites of
fertility, 3. according to etymology as it is commonly accepted, Wd(e) means the
raging, furious one and is a name for the Wild Hunt itself or for its leader, properly
speaking, as Much puts it, the air in movement, die bewegte Luft.
14. The etymology of the words Othin and Wode
We may begin with a discussion of the last point. Formerly it was deemed possible to
arrive at the original meaning of a religious phenomenon by trying to solve the
problem of the etymology of the word by which it was called; now-a-days we are
more cautious in our conclusions and prefer to consider the etymology as a way of
enforcing a view which is the result of considerations based on a study of the
phenomenon itself. It is especially dangerous to extract from a group of cognate
words a root, the meaning of which is often only a colourless abstraction from them
all 116).
When scholars consider the word Wde, Wdan to belong to a root *ue- to blow
(cf. Lat. ventus, Sky. vata) and consequently consider him to be an original wind-god
117), this etymology has some probability only in the case that his character as wind-
god is incontestible. The only argument, however, which can be adduced in [53]
favour of this hypothesis the popular belief of the raging, ghostly army (das
wtende Heer) - is too weak, as I shall show presently.
The Germanic words belonging to this group, are German Wut, Dutch woede (furor),
Goth. ws, Old Norse r, Old English wd. They lead us to an original stem
*w- with the meaning furious'' especially in a high mental excitement. Of course
it is possible that the mental condition is a later more specialised form of a more
general meaning in violent movement, excited; but this can not be settled only by
an abstract argument. If we seek for related words in the Indo-European languages we
find: Lat. vates prophet, Gall outeis, Old-Irish faith prophet, poet 118). I see no
reason whatever why the Latin word should be a borrowing from the Gallic, nor why
the Gem-manic word should be considered as derived from a Celtic language. The
fact that it is found in these three languages which also in many other respects show a
close affinity, is satisfactorily explained by assuming that it belongs to the original
fund of the Indo-European dialect from which Latin, Germanic and Celtic are the
historical developments. As in these languages the meaning of the word-group is
prophet, poet or in a state of mental excitement, we must content ourselves with
this original sense.
When K. Helm 119) pretends that the sense of a mental state is based on a rather late
development of this god, when he became more spiritualized, he underrates the value
of the cognate words in Latin and Celtic. When he futhermore continues in this way:
any probability of a certain understanding can only be arrived at when we try to go
back to the original concrete meaning of the word, which may he a violent, stormy
movement, he makes in my opinion two mistakes: 1. there is no reason to assert why
this should be the only possible way to arrive at a [54] clear understanding of the
word-group and 2. he strangely undervalues the mind of so-called primitive peoples
as if they were unable to express abstract ideas in their language 120). Moreover the
idea of mental excitement must be very familiar to primitive man, as an ecstatic state
of mind is the typical expression of his religious feelings. The shamanistic sorcerer,
the medicine-man, on a somewhat higher level the prophet and the poet, are examples
of this mental excitement which it is often difficult to distinguish from mental
derangement. So etymology does not bring us further than this conception.
Now, of course, the figure of Wde in popular lore is the reason of the hypothesis
about the connection between Wdan and the wind. But the name Wtendes Heer
as it is found in the Southern parts of Germany 121) only means the raging host.
The verb wten has the significance of to rage which in course of time was
applied not only to mental fury, but to any possible fury. The concrete meaning, die
sinnliche Bedeutung", is not original, but on the contrary secondary. The spirit Waul,
Waudl, the leader of the ghostly army and to whom the last sheaf is sometimes
sacrificed, does not necessarily belong to this same word-group. In the Swabian
dialect we find the words Waude terrifying spirit and Waudel spectre, phantom',
and even Wau-wau or Wauzel, both meaning terrifying ghost'' 22); they seem to be
derivations from a word wau and in my opinion are not connected at all with the root
*wo but are more likely to be anonomatopoetic formation.
This does not mean that at the bottom of these names for the Wild Hunt there may not
lie the word Wde which we find elsewhere medieval sources cited above show the
contrary and the modern forms Waudl, Waude may consequently be later
modifications. But then the difficulty remains that we have no certainty whatever as to
the date [55] when the host of spirits was first called wtendes Heer" and
consequently as to the exact meaning of the word wten in that period. I consider
the name to be certainly of a date later than the introduction of Christianity, but in this
case it seems wellnigh a hopeless task to determine what could have been the meaning
of this Wode in heathen times.
15. The relation of Othin to the harvest customs
So for our knowledge of the original meaning of Othin modern popular traditions are
without any value whatever. If now-a-days a peasant sacrifices a sheaf of corn to the
horse of Othin, this does not imply that his heathen ancestor did the same, for he may
have intended the sacrifice to a corn-spirit in an animal form or he may even have
intended no sacrifice at all. The word Wode, Othin and its corresponding forms 123:)
are more probably one of the many instances of the phenomenon that elements of a
higher civilisation have sunk down to a lower level of the population, the reason being
in this case that the heathen gods had been degraded into demoniac beings. The
problem then is not what kind of god the Wode of modern popular tradition
represents, but if at the time when the debased Othin was assimilated to the harvest-
customs of the peasantry, he was accepted as a leader of the ghostly army or as a
vegetation-god.
And that question can only be answered by a study of the old literary sources treating
of the heathen religion. These, however, make it fairly sure that he was originally a
god of the dead, not exclusively of the restless spirits, but in the general sense of the
Lord of Death. His name characterizes him as intimately connected with the magical
to procure secret wisdom, which very often is supposed [56] to be in the possession of
the dead. The identity of Wodan and Mercury proves this conception to have existed
as early as the beginning of our era. Perhaps a bit of popular lore gives an analogous
evidence; Wednesday is supposed to be highly favourable for magical practices 124);
might this not be explained as a remembrance of the magical virtues which the god of
this day, Wodan, possessed in pagan times?
The god of the dead has developed in times of war, such as in the Migration and the
Viking Period into a protector of the brave warriors, who collects them in his splendid
heavenly abode. I consider it to be quite improbable that this important god has at the
same time been a leader of restless, wandering spirits; but as soon as after the
introduction of Christianity the terror for the spirits in midwinter had become greater,
the old god of the dead, now debased into a dangerous demon, was naturally
combined with the Wild Hunt. If the Norwegian word Oskorei originally means the
ride of the ss-god 125), it is indeed a remarkable proof for the conception of the
sir as spirits of the dead, but the idea that this ss-god was the chief of the Wild
Hunt is not necessarily heathen: it may have arisen in the period after Christianisation.
The famous description of the Wild Hunt in the Njlssaga mentions at the head of it a
man on a grey horse, bearing in his hand a burning torch and being himself as black as
pitch. I fully agree with F. Jnsson that we may not see in this infernal being the god
Othin 126). It is a gandrei, says the saga itself, which belongs to quite a different
order of religious phenomena 127).
In course of time the idea of sin, which had to be expiated in this fearful way, became
predominating and fettered the ghostly army and its demoniac leader still more
closely together. But that this connection is not at all original, is proved by the
Norwegian belief of the Oskorei; [57] for this host of furious spirits is led by Guro
Rysserova, the famous Gudrun of the Nibelungen-story. In Norway it was a woman
and a person belonging to heroic legend, who having fallen to the state of a diabolocal
being led the Wild Hunt. Even elsewhere in the Teutonic world we find a woman as
the leader of the Wild Hunt; Burckhard of Worms already speaks about a female,
whom people call Holda, being at the head of the army of ghosts. In modern times this
same belief has been noted down in different parts of Germany 128).
Of course there has been for the religious mind of the heathen Germans the idea of a
strong connection between the storm of winter and the spirits of the dead. The double
sense of the Latin word anima is an eloquent testimony for this world-wide belief.
The winged Harpies who, according to old Greek belief, hurried along like the storm-
wind were demons of death. The soul leaving the dead body as a wind is a very
common conception. The Permian peoples for example believed that on the death of a
shaman a storm was sure to arise 129) and likewise it is believed that there always
blows a violent wind on All Souls Day 130). Sacrifices to the wind were in Ancient
Greece black animals immolated in the night; the cult of the winds has an
unmistakebly chthonic character on account of their relation to the spirits of the dead
131). Now the wind was often conceived in the form of a horse; I agree with Karl
Helm 1 32) that this is a very old belief reaching back to prehistoiric ages; that it is the
swiftness of the horse which lies at the bottom of the comparison between it and the
wind, is although by no means sure, at all events not improbable.





So the horse of the wind and the horse of death may be two religious conceptions of
different origin; they could not help becoming inseparably commingled with each
other in the course of later development, if the German peasant [58] now-a-days
throws some straws of hay or some flowers into the air as food for the wind 133), he
intends to appease the dangerous storm-demon; if the Swedish peasant on the other
hand leaves somc cornstalks for the horse of Othin he only intends to secure a good
harvest for the next year. These practices are absolutely different. The contamination
of unrelated religious spheres may be shown by another example relating to the
mythical conceptions of the horse. Its importance in rites of vegetation is well-known,
it may suffice to mention the asvamedha of the Indians, the ritual of the October-horse
with the Romans and the curious Norwegian cult of Vlsi, I dare not follow F. R.
SchrOder in his conclusion 134) that Othin's horse Sleipnir has been at the same time
a deathhorse and a vegetation-spirit, but that in later times these two conceptions have
melted into one is shown by the curious custom in Norway which Storaker mentions:
in Telemarken on Yule-eve a cake is baked which was called Helhesten (the hell-
horse) and it was eaten on Candlemas Day. So it may be tempting to consider the
custom of the last sheaf for Othin's horse as a typical form of a vegetation rite, none
the less this seems open to serious doubt, when we consider the custom which is
found in Halland: the last sheaf which is left standing on the field is given as fodder
for the hests of the Lusselrs-family. Here the peasant tries to appease the army of
ghosts which, in the same district of Sweden, is called not only by the name of Lusse-
fr 135) but also of Hoajakten (the hunt of Othin or of a chthonic spirit) 136). It is
quite obvious that a modern peasant who has only the wish to avert the evils of
malicious beings, the number of which has been sadly increased after Christianisation,
may very easily confuse different practices into one. [59]
16. Othin as a god of fertility
After such reflections we shall be rather sceptical as to the possibility of answering
the question whether the Swedish harvest-custom has anything to do with an original
conception of Othin as a god of fertility. The student of the religion of the Teutons
will not expect any light from this modern custom which is limited to a small part of
the Germanic peoples; on the other hand the student of modern agricultural rites can
only explain the Othin of Swedish folklore as a god of fertility, if he is able to find
reliable evidence in the historical monuments of the heathen period.
In his interesting paper on Julkrve och Odinskult the Swedish folklorist Hilding
Celander 137) has tried to collect some material which might point in this direction.
The most important fact, in my opinion, the temporary disappearing of r or Othin,
has been left out of the discussion and the facts he himself adduces are far from
convincing. So the belief that Othin during Yule-tide visits the earth does not prove at
all that he does so in his character of a vegetation god. At the heathen Yule-sacrifice,
the first cup was proffered to Othin ; this certainly proves the close connection of
Othin and the feast of the dead, but in no way any relation between him and the
blessings of fertility: this cup, as is stated expressly by Snorri should be drunk 'till
sigrs ok rkis konungi sinum and not til rs ok friar"; for this was the special
domain of Njord and Freyr in whose names the two following cups were drunk.
Celander tries to gather new evidence from modern popular lore when he reminds us
of the Swedish belief that Othin was the giver of wealth. How could a god who gave
wealth to the peasants of Vrend have done it in heathen times but by bestowing
abundant harvest and cattle? The answer upon this question of Celander, however, lies
already in the words he himself quotes from his [6o] source, the well-known book of
Hyltn-Cavallius Vrend och Virdarna: Othin was den landskunnige runokarlen
och afguden. The popular tradition does not mention cattle and harvest, but on the
contrary riches and money 138); if people thought that it was Othin who could
procure them it certainly was as god of the runes and of all magic practices, not as a
divinity of vegetation.
No, conclusive proofs for a belief that Othin was a god who bestowed the blessings of
fertility are to be found neither in modern folklore, nor in the Old-Norse traditions.
Even a place-name Odinsakr of which a few instances are found in Norway and
Sweden does not prove much for the conception of Othin as a god of fertility,
although the word akr of course has a strictly agrarian meaning. Magnus Olsen 139)
makes it very probable that these names belong to the latest layer of akr-names; if,
however, he brings this into connection with the late arrival of the Othincult in
Norway, I do not consider it to be the only way of explaining this singular fact, for the
rather late development of Othin into a vegetationgod might just as well account for
it. So we are only justified in saying that such a belief is possible, because a god of the
dead is very often thought to possess the power of fertility and because there exists a
rather obscure myth of his disappearance during a part of the year, which might be
interpreted in this way.
17. Othin in modern Scandinavian tradition
Finally, does the custom which I have been discussing in this paper prove by its being
limited to some regions of Denmark and Sweden, that Othin had been more venerated
there than elsewhere in the Scandinavian countries? The study of place-names and the
literary traditions agree in giving indications for the spread of the cult of Othin [61]
from the Eastern parts of Scandinavia Westwards. To account for the fact by the
theory about the Herulian people who had introduced the runic art and the cult of
Othin, as Celander proposes to do, is a baseless hypothesis. There are so many
reasons possible for the explanation of this curious fact. If we take into consideration
that this harvest custom is found in such parts of Scandinavia, where from time
immemorial the tilling of the soil was the chief means of subsistence, we may
conclude that a people of peasants very naturally ascribes to its most important god
the blessings of fertility. While in Norway and Iceland, Othin was lifted up to the
chief god of an aristocratic society, who became the protector of warriors and poets,
in other parts of the North, where the bulk of the nation consisted of peasants, he
became a god appropriate for the needs of an agricultural society. The harvest
customs connected with Othin are found in those parts of Sweden which belonged
formerly to Denmark; so they are most probably of Danish origin. Here too we find in
the cult-centre of Odense the proof for his great importance. This makes it probable
that he even won a place in the harvest customs of this people.
The conception of Othin as the Wild Huntsman (or more exactly: the identification of
the Wild Huntsman with Othin) prevails in the Western parts of Denmark; would it be
by mere chance that this characteristic of Othin is bound to the barren heaths of
Jutland, while in the fertile Danish islands his relation to the rites of vegetation has
become predominant 140)?
Still we should not press the argument. In Sweden also the heathen god has been
debased into the leader of the army of ghosts: he is said to have resided on a large
farm in the neighbourhood of Rstanga and it was as a punishment for his sins that
this farm was sunk on the very spot where we now find Odensj, "the Lake of Othin"
141). [62] Here clearly the name of this place has kept alive the remembrance of the
god.
But in several popular traditions his name has been handed down in the course of
ages, especially in such a semi-literary character. In the popular ballad "Stolt Herr
Alf" st. 8 we read the line "hielp nu Oden Asagrim" 142). It is probably of more
importance that Othin is mentioned in a couple of charms. Well known are the
Swedish variants of the so-called charm of Merseburg of which a form current in
Smland begins with the line "Oden rider fver sten och brg", another one from the
same district with the opening line "Oden star p berget" 143). But we find quite the
same in other charms as well; so an incantation against thieves runs as follows 144):
Jag manar dig vder i vrd
Jag manar dig jord i vrd
Jag manar dig Oden of Adersgrd
att du tar mina hfvor tillbaka a.s.o.
If we take then into consideration the rather numerous instances of popular belief
about Othin, which Hyltn-Cavallius has collected, we get the impression that the
people down to modern days have known Othin as the great magician, a mighty
"runokarl", whose demoniac character was quite familiar to them. So, when we find
his name connected with agrarian customs in this part of Scandinavia, it may be of
rather late origin and need not at any rate go back at all to a heathen period, when this
god might have been an important divinity in rural life 145).
18. Conclusion
It has for a long time been a favourite method in the study of the old Teutonic religion
to complement the scanty information of the extant literary monuments by the popular
[63] traditions of modern times. The purpose of this paper is to show the danger of
such a method. Folklore gives us valuable material in as much we may learn from it
how complicated modern conceptions are; in fact they contain at the same time relics
of the highest antiquity and elements of much more recent origin. Here the drags of all
bygone ages are massed together but at the same time these elements are constantly
shifting their form and character. If we find a name which reminds us of the heathen
religion it may still be that it is a name without any content. A custom which now
seems to be exclusively agrarian may have originated in quite another sphere of
religious rites. When we possess an accurate knowledge of the origin of a modern
popular tradition we may trace the line of development downwards, but to seek from
modern folklore the way to a source which is only superficially known to us, seems to
me a fruitless task. The clue of the problems of the heathen Teutonic religion is to be
found almost exclusively in the ancient literary monuments and we may expect only
in a very few cases that the light which modern folklore throws upon the past, is
something better than a will-o'-the-wisp.















































4] Notes and Additional Remarks

1) Cf. new edition I, p. 159.

2) G. Landtman, Folktro och Trolldom I, vernaturliga vsen (Finlands svenska
Folkdiktning VII, i, Helsingfors 1919) P. 8.

3) Cf. Kaarle Krohn, Skandinavisk Mytologi p. 87-88, who however seems to me to
be too sceptical on this subject. The same observation has been made with regard to
"primitive" man who also answers according to the wish of his interlocutor, he very
shrewdly guesses cf. H. Basedow, The Australian Aboriginal p. 228.

4) E. Elgqvist, Folkminnen och Folktankar XVI (1929) p. 91.

5) In Grds herad the sheaf was sacrificed to Noen and his dogs cf. A. Helgesson,
Folkminnen och Folktankar IV (1917) p. 145.

6) See about these traditions the excellent study of Hans Ellekilde, Odinsjgeren paa
Mn, in the Nordiskt Folkeminne p. 85-1 16 ; he mentions all known forms of the
name, which are besides Jden and Jtten (the Jew and the Giant) such as Gjjen,
Joing, which may be the same word as Goden (Ginn). The name Opsal does not
mean the Swedish town Upsala, but is rather a circumlocution for Mns Klint (the
elevated hall).

7) See Axel Olrik, Danske Studier 1904 p. 35-38. - According to a communication
from Bornholm the [65] last sheaf was left on the field for "Landkongens hest", cf.
Skattegraveren III, p. 25

8) With regard to its possibly being known in Eastgtland too cf. M. Pn. Nilsson,
Folkminnen och Folktankar VIII (1921) p. 69. - See also H. Celander, Rig 1920 p.
171.

9) J. Th. Storaker, Elementerne in den Norske Folketro (Norsk Folkeminnelag X) p.
135 ff.

10) Cf. Landtman o. c. II, Vxtlighetsriter (Helsingfors 1925) p. 111

11) Cf. Pfannenschmid, Germanische Erntefeste p. 409.

12) Cf. U. Jahn, Die deutschen Opferbruche p. 163.

13) U. Jahn o. c. p. 173. Cf. also Mannhardt, Die Korndmonen (Berlin 1868) p. VII.

14) For another and sounder interpretation see the excellent monography of Nils Lid,
Joleband og vegetationsguddom (Skrifter utgitt av Det Norske Videnskaps-Akademi i
Oslo II, Hist.-Filos. Klasse 1928 Nr. 4) p. 270 f.

15) Jahn. o. c. p. 165.

16) Wald- and Feldkulte (Berlin 1875-1877).

17) Spirits of the Corn and the Wild (The Golden Bough V).

18) Der Ackerbau im Volksaberglauben der Finnen and Esten mit entsprechenden
Gebruchen der Germanen verglichen (FF Communications Nrs. 30, 31, 32, 55 and
62).

19) See the title of the book in note 14.

20) Cf. H. Ellekilde, Ellekongen i Stevns, Danske Studier 1929 p. 10-39. His
conclusion that this king of the elves really should be the old stormgod Othin, is not
borne out by the facts ; the elves of the heathen period certainly were spirits of the
dead (cf. Olfr Geirstaa-lfr), especially connected with the [66] prosperity of the
soil (lfablt). So a sacrifice to them in harvest time does not necessarily imply and
relation with Othin.

21) Cf. G. Landtman, Hustomtens frvantskap och hrstamning in Folkloristiska och
etnografiska Studier III, p. 12.

22) Cf. Jahn o. c. p. 182 ff and Frazer, The Spirits of the Corn and the Wild I, p. 131
ff.

23) This Danish information, as well as most of the references to Danish customs in
this paper are taken from the abundant material in the Danish Folkeminde Samling,
which Mr. H. Ellekilde has been so kind as to place at my disposal.

24) Johannes Skar, Gamalt or Stesdal I (first edition.), p. 8 says, that people
formerly always left something in the barn, the porridge-bowl, the bread-tray, the
purse etc. "de var a fatigt Hus, sopar an ut alt Bosi". And on p. 7o he tells about a
man, who was always in the habit of cutting the corn very carelessly "so hadde han
langt Hoy til kvart Aar". See moreover for the idea of the first and the last in popular
belief Von Sydow in Folkminnen och Folktankar XIII (1926) P- 53 f and esp. p. 68.

25) See Axel Olrik, Danske Studier 1904, p. 38

26) See Elgqvist, Folkminnen och Folktankar XVI (1929) p. 94.

27) Cf. Nikander, Fruktbarhetsriter hos svenskarna i Finland (Folkloristiska och
etnografiska Studier I) p. 259 and J. Th. Storaker, Naturrigerne i den norske folketro
(Norsk Folkeminnelag XVIII) p. 70-71. For more examples see Frazer, The Golden
Bough (abridged edition) p. 232-233.

28) Cf. Rantasalo o. c. 111, p. 79. Also the superstitions about the lykkebiten of a
cake in Norway or the maktbiten in Sweden (Nils Lid 0. C. P. 215).
[67]

29) Cf. U. Holmberg, Die Religion der Tscheremissen, FFComm Nr. 61 p. 88.

30) Cf. U. Holmberg, Die Wassergottheiten der finnischugrischen Vlker (Mmoires
de la Socit FinnoOugrienne XXXIII Helsingfors 1913, p. 6.

31) Cf. U. Holmberg, Doppelfrucht im Aberglauben (Suomalais-ugrilaisen Seuran
toimituksia LII, p. 48-66. - Perhaps we may compare the curious custom in
Kragelund, Viborg amt, Jutland of binding the last sheaf so as to divide the top into
two parts and to call it "tvillingneget".

32) The Golden Bough (Abridged edition) p. 453.

33) The last sheaf is called fox in the Danish Islands of Sjlland and Fyn; in the latter
it has too the name of sow ; but it is called hare in Lolland, Falster and the Juttish
peninsula.

34) Cf. U. Holmberg, Finno-Ugric Mythology p. 247.

35) Cf. J. Schrijnen, Nederlandsche Volkskunde 1, p. 280.

36) The idea of the "blood of the hare" is also found in Norwegian popular customs,
cf. Nils Lid o. c. p. 22.

37) Cf. f. i. Kr. Bugge in Festskrift Feilberg p. 170 who gives an example from the
Trondhjem district.

38) There are more instances of a spirit who is at first in a hostile mood and refuses to
submit to man, but after being, subdued gives all desired help and information. So is
the Greek Proteus and the merman of popular belief. But it seems to me that in the
case of the spirit of vegetation the explanation of its double attitude towards man is
more complicated.

39) Cf. U. Holmberg, Virolaiset viljaneitsyt (Suomalais-Ugrilaisen Seuran
Toimituksia XXXV, 3) p. 10.

40) Cf. Frazer, o. c. p. 399 ff.

41) Cf. Frazer, o. c. p. 402 ff.

42) Cf. M. Pn. Nilsson, Aarets folkelige Fester (Religions-historiske Smaaskrifter,
Anden Rkke VI) p. 9.
[68]

43) I take this very illustrative example from the interesting paper of G. Landtman
about "Hustomtens frvantskap and hrstamning" in Folkloristiska och Etnografiska
Studier III (Helsingfors 1922).

44) The reader will observe that the name of "the Old One" serves also to denote the
corn-spirit in its human form (vide supra); this is not of course a mere coincidence.

45) Cf. Rantasalo o. c. V, p. 198.

46) Cf. Uno Holmberg, Vnster Hand och motsols in Rig 1925, p. 23 ff.

47) Cf. M. Pn. Nilsson, Folkminnen och Folktankar VIII (1921) p. 59.

48) Cf. E. Elgqvist, Folkminnen och Folktankar XVI (1929) p. 91.

49) Hilding Celander, Nordisk Jul 1, p. 147.

50) o. c. p. 193 ff. 51) o. c. p. 149.52) o. c. p. 86.

51) o. c. p. 149.

52) o. c. p. 86.

53) Cf. Sknska Folkminnen, rsbok 1929, p. 151.

54) Cf. Nils Lid o. c. p. 138.

55) Wegelius and Wikman, Folkloristiska och Etnografiska Studier I (Helsingfors
1916) p. 161.

56) The Karelians kill on St. Olav's day a lamb without a knife; the bones may not be
broken. A part of the flesh is put in a corner of the room for the housespirits, another
part on the field, a third part under the birch-trees which they intend to use as May-
poles (H. Celander, Folkminnen och Folktankar XII, 1925, 4, p. 5).

57) Cf. M. Pn. Nilsson, Aarets folkelige fester p. 50 f.

58) Cf. P. Sbillot, Le Folklore de France 1, p. 166 ff and J. P. Jacobsen, Harlekin og
den vilde Jger in Dania IX (1902) p. I ff.
[69]

59) This is again an instance of the vague character of popular ideas as mentioned
above.

60) The name r, the relation of which to inn will be discussed presently, gives
strong support to this opinion.

61) Cf. Dania 11, p. 121.

62) Cf. Grundtvig, Danmarks gamle Folkeviser III, p. 909 b: in some parts of
Denmark the migratory birds are called dogs of heaven (himmelhunde). In Sweden
people say when they are passing by: they are the dogs og Othin (Hyltn-Cavallius I,
p. 1621. Likewise in some parts of Holland the Wild Hunt, the "Berndekesjacht" is
supposed to pass by when the wild geese are heard in the sky, cf. Driemaandelksche
Bladen II (1903) p. 5 and III (1904) p. 3.

63) Cf. the words of Geiler von Kaisersberg (quoted by L. Weniger, Feralis Exercitus
in the Archiv fr Religionswissenschaft IX, 19o6, p. 22o): Also redt der gemeine Man
von dem Wtischen Heer dass die, die vor den Zeiten sterben, ee denn dass inen Got
hat uffgesetzet, als die, die in die Reis laufen and erstochen werden, oder gehenkt and
ertrenkt werden, die mssen also lang nach irem todt laufen, bis das zil kumpt, das
inen Got gesetzet hat and darn so wrkt Got mit inen, was sein gtlicher Wil ist.

64) Cf. ed. Sievers 133, 16.

65) Cf. Graff, Althochdeutscher Sprachschatz I, p. 767.

66) This agrees also with the most probable etymology of the Germanic word-group,
see p. 53

67) Gislason, Efterladte Skrifter I, p. 187 : de sjleevner der udmrke mennesket
fremfor dyret.

68) Cf. the Old-Norse gyzki "insanity'', derived from Germ. adj. "gudisk- "possessed
by a god".

69) F. Jnsson, Skjaldedigtning I, p. 284.

70) See idem p. 449.
[70]
71) See Jnsson's edition p. 1oo.

72) See Rantasalo o. c. II, p. 47.

73) See F. Kluge, Nominale Stammbildungslehre der, altgermanischen Dialekte 2o
and C. J. S. Marstrander, Norsk Tidsskrift for Sprogvidenskap I (1928) p. 158 ff.

74) See Kluge o. c. 29.

75) For the different forms in -ann, -inn see R. C. Boer, Oudnoorsch Handboek 138
note 2.

76) See o. c. p. 159. Riese, however, in his book Das rheinische Germanien in den
antiken Inschriften, Nr. 3357, supposes the name to have been Leudicianus.

77) Schmidt's Zeitschrift f. Geschichte VIII, p. 264 note.

78) Mogk, Grundriss (2) III, p. 358 ff; Kauffmann, PBB XVIII, p. 140 ff; Helm,
Altgermanische Religionsgeschichte I, p. 381.

79) Hedenske Kultminder i norske Stedsnavne I (Oslo 1915) and ttegard og
Helligdom, Norske Stedsnavn sosialt og religionshistorisk belyst (Oslo 1926).

8o) This and other examples adduced below show that K. Helm o. c. I, p. 264 wrongly
denies the possibility of the derivation of a personal name from another one by the
suffix -no.

81) Cf. M. Olsen, Stedsnavn og Gudenavn i Land (Avh. Norske Vid. Akad. Oslo, II
1929, Nr. 3) p. 77. The same root occurs in the name of the Indian god Vrtra, who,
according to K. F. Johansson, ber die altindische Gttin Dhisana and Verwandtes in
the Skrifter utgifna of Kungl. Hum. Vet. Samf i Uppsala XX, I, p. 137, may be
compared with the Scandinavian Ullr in many respects. - Cf. also Johan Palmr in
Acta Philologica Scandinavica V, p. 290-291.

82) Then we accept the etymology which combines this word with Gr. anr Skr. nara,
Old-Irish nert and [71] we reject the hypothesis of F. R. Schrder, Germanentum and
Hellenismus p. 51, who compares the Skr, root nrt "to dance". Sten Konow, who in
the same year as Schrder proposed this etymology (Festskrift Kjr p. 53-60) insists
upon *Neru- being an -u-stem, not a -tu-stem, but I do not see the reason of this
opinion. The analogy of r and Ullr points at any rate in an other direction.

83) This is the explanation of Axel Kock in ZfdPhil. XXVIII, p. 289 ff.

84) The problem of the different sex may also be solved in another way, as indicated
by Edv. Lehmann in Maal og Minne 1919 p. I ff: Nerthus could have been a
hermaphroditical divinity, of which Tacitus' Nerthus forms the female and the Old-
Norse Njord the male counterpart. Still I should be inclined to think even when
accepting this hypothesis, that the form of the name more particularly denotes the god
of fertility, not the goddess.

85) In this connection the Old Norse divinities Fjrgyn and Fjrgynn deserve to be
mentioned; I may refer the reader to my paper in the Dutch Tijdschrift voor
Nederlandsche Taal- en Letterkunde L (1931) p. 1-25

86) Cf. L. Malten, Das Pferd im Totenglauben, Jahrbuch des Kais. d. Arch. Instituts
XXIX (1914).

87) At any rate I consider this to be a much more satisfactory explanation than that
which is commonly found in the handbooks, that the relation between r and Frigg
is in some way connected with the popular belief of the Wild Huntsman who pursues
a nymph of the forest (Cf. W. Golther, Handbuch der germanischen Mythologie p.
288).

88) For a discussion of the meaning of the classical god Mercurius-Hermes see the
following recent papers: W. B. Kristensen, De goddelijke bedrieger (Mede-[72]
deelingen der Kon. Acad van Wetenschappen, Afd. Letterk. 66 B, Nr. 3) and J. P. B.
de Josselin de Jong, De oorsprong van den goddelijken bedrieger (ibidem 68 B, Nr. I).

89) See The Cult of Othin p. 67.