Friday, 13 March 2020

Germanic Folklore (6): Sacrifices




SACRIFICE.

The word opfer, a sacrifice, was introduced into German by Christianity, being derived from the Latin offero.  Everywhere the original heathen terms disappeared. The oldest term, and one universally spread, for the notion to worship (God) by sacrifice, was Blôtan.  It is plain that here the word has more of a heathen look, and wasn’t at that time used of Christian worship; with the thing, the words for it soon die out. But its universal use in Norse heathendom leaves no doubt remaining, that it was equally in vogue among Goths, Alamanni, Saxons, before their conversion to Christianity.

We shall besides have to separate more exactly the ideas vow and sacrifice, closely as they border on one another: the vow is, as it were, a private sacrifice.

Sacrifice rested on the supposition that human food is agreeable to the gods, that intercourse takes place between gods and men. The god is invited to eat his share of the sacrifice, and he really enjoys it. Not till later is a separate divine food placed before him. The motive of sacrifices was everywhere the same: either to render thanks to the gods for their kindnesses, or to appease their anger; the gods were to be kept gracious, or to be made gracious again. Hence the two main kinds of sacrifice: thank-offerings and sin-offerings.

When a meal was eaten, a head of game killed, the enemy conquered , a firstling of the cattle born, or grain harvested, the gift-bestowing god had a first right to a part of the food, drink, produce, the spoils of war or of the chase (the same idea on which tithes to the church were afterwards grounded).

If on the contrary a famine, a failure of crops, a pestilence had set in among a people, they hastened to present propitiatory gifts. These sin-offerings have by their nature an occasional and fitful character, while those performed to the propitious deity readily pass into periodically recurring festivals.

There is a third species of sacrifice, by which one seeks to know the issue of an enterprise, and to secure the aid of the god to whom it is presented . Divination however could also be practiced without sacrifices.

Besides these three, there were special sacrifices for particular occasions, such as coronations, births, weddings and funerals, which were also for the most part coupled with solemn banquets.

As the gods show favor more than anger, and as men are oftener cheerful than oppressed by their sins and errors, thank offerings were the earliest and commonest, sin-offerings the more rare and impressive. Whatever in the world of plants can be laid before the gods is gay, innocent, but also less imposing and effective than an animal sacrifice. The streaming blood, the life spilt out seems to have a stronger binding and atoning power. Animal sacrifices are natural to the warrior, the hunter, the herdsman, while the husbandman will offer up grain and flowers.

The great anniversaries of the heathen coincide with popular assemblies and assizes. In the Ynglinga saga chap. 8 they are specified thus: “On winter day there should be blood-sacrifice for a good year, and in the middle of winter for a good crop; and the third sacrifice should be on summer day, for victory in battle. “

Halfdan the Old held a great midwinter sacrifice for the long duration of his life and kingdom. But the great general blot held at Uppsala every winter included sacrifices.  

Easter-fires, Mayday-fires, Midsummer-fires, with their numerous ceremonies, carry us back to heathen sacrifices; especially such customs as rubbing the sacred flame, running through the glowing embers, throwing flowers into the fire, baking and distributing large loaves or cakes, and the circular dance. Dances passed into plays and dramatic representations. Afzelius describes a sacrificial play still performed in parts of Gotland, acted by young fellows in disguise, who blacken and rouge their faces. One, wrapped in fur, sits in a chair as the victim, holding in his mouth a bunch of straw-stalks cut fine, which reach as far as his ears and have the appearance of sow bristles: by this is meant the boar sacrificed at Yule.

The great sacrificial feast of the ancient Saxons was on Oct. 1, and is traced to a victory gained over the Thuringians in 534; in documents of the Mid. Ages this high festival stills bears the name of the gemeinwoche or common week.  Zisa’ s day was celebrated on Sept. 29, St. Michael s on the 28th; so that the holding of a harvest-offering must be intended all through. In addition to the great festivals, they also sacrificed on special occasions, particularly when famine or disease was rife; sometimes for long life: or for favour with the people.

Human Sacrifices are from their nature and origin purging; some great disaster, some heinous crime can only be purged and blotted out by human blood. With all nations of antiquity they were an old-established custom; the following evidences place it beyond a doubt for Germany: “Of all the Gods, Mercury is he whom they worship most. To him on certain stated days it is lawful to offer even human victims.” (Tacitus Germ. 9)
 “Of all the Suevians, the Semnones recount themselves to be the most ancient and most noble. The belief of their antiquity is confirmed by religious mysteries. At a stated time of the year, all the several people descended from the same stock, assemble by their deputies in a wood; consecrated by the idolatries of their forefathers, and by superstitious awe in times of old. There by publicly sacrificing a man, they begin the horrible solemnity of their barbarous worship.” (Tacitus Germ. 39)
“In the neighbouring groves stood the savage altars at which they had slaughtered the tribunes and chief centurions.” (Tacitus Ann. 1, 61)
The same summer a great battle was fought between the Hermunduri and the Chatti, (…) The war was a success for the Hermunduri, and the more disastrous to the Chatti because they had devoted, in the event of victory, the enemy's army to Mars and Mercury, a vow which consigns horses, men, everything indeed on the vanquished side to destruction. And so the hostile threat recoiled on themselves. (Tacitus Ann. 13, 57)
“the (kings of the Goths), One Eadagaisus. . . Attacking Italy, and during the ferocity of the war, he promised that the blood of the Christians would be used to make offering,  worshiping their gods, if he should conquer the country.” (Isidori chron. Goth., aera 446)
“On the god Mars of the Goths, who has always cruel rites and culture, his victims were prisoners of war. Offers of human blood are more readily accepted.” (Jornandes ch. 5)
“It is their usage (…) to abandon every tenth captive to the slow agony of a watery end, casting lots with perfect equity among the damned crowd in execution of this iniquitous sentence of death.  These men are bound by vows which have to be paid in victims, they conceive it as a religious act to perpetrate this horrible slaughter (…). Masters were allowed to sell slaves, and Christians sold them to heathens for sacrifice.” (Sidonius Apollinaris 8, 6 of the Saxons)



The first fruits of war, the first prisoner taken, was supposed to bring luck. In folk-tales we find traces of the immolation of children ; they are killed as a cure for leprosy, they are walled up in basements; and a feature that particularly points to a primitive sacrificial rite is, that toys and victuals are handed in to the child, while the roofing-in is completed. Among the Greeks and Romans likewise the victims fell amid noise and flute-playing, that their cries might be drowned, and the tears of children are stilled with caresses. (Epist. Bonif. 25)

Extraordinary events might demand the death of kings sons and daughters, nay, of kings themselves. Thoro offers up his son to the gods; King Oen the Old sacrificed nine sons one after the other to Odin for his long life; Ynglinga saga ch. 29: Of King On, Jorund's Son.
On or Ane was the name of Jorund's son, who became king of the Swedes after his father.  He was a wise man, who made great sacrifices to the gods; but being no warrior, he lived quietly at home.  In the time when the kings we have been speaking of were in Upsal, Denmark had been ruled over by Dan Mikellati, who lived to a very great age; then by his son, Frode Mikellati, or the Peace-loving, who was succeeded by his sons Halfdan and Fridleif, who were great warriors.  Halfdan was older than his brother, and above him in all things.  He went with his army against King On to Sweden, and was always victorious.  At last King On fled to Wester Gotland when he had been king in Upsal about twenty-five years, and was in Gotland twenty-five years, while Halfdan remained king in Upsal.  King Halfdan died in his bed at Upsal, and was buried there in a mound; and King On returned to Upsal when he was sixty years of age.  He made a great sacrifice, and in it offered up his son to Odin.  On got an answer from Odin, that he should live sixty years longer; and he was afterwards king in Upsal for twenty-five years.  Now came Ole the Bold, a son of King Fridleif, with his army to Sweden, against King On, and they had several battles with each other; but Ole was always the victor.  Then On fled a second time to Gotland; and for twenty-five years Ole reigned in Upsal, until he was killed by Starkad the Old.  After Ole's fall, On returned to Upsal, and ruled the kingdom for twenty-five years.  Then he made a great sacrifice again for long life, in which he sacrificed his second son, and received the answer from Odin, that he should live as long as he gave him one of his sons every tenth year, and also that he should name one of the districts of his country after the number of sons he should offer to Odin.  When he had sacrificed the seventh of his sons he continued to live; but so that he could not walk, but was carried on a chair.  Then he sacrificed his eighth son, and lived thereafter ten years, lying in his bed. Now he sacrificed his ninth son, and lived ten years more; but so that he drank out of a horn like a weaned infant.  He had now only one son remaining, whom he also wanted to sacrifice, and to give Odin Upsal and the domains thereunto belonging, under the name of the Ten Lands, but the Swedes would not allow it; so there was no sacrifice, and King On died, and was buried in a mound at Upsal.  Since that time it is called On's sickness when a man dies, without pain, of extreme old age. Thjodolf tell of this:

     "In Upsal's town the cruel king
     Slaughtered his sons at Odin's shrine --
     Slaughtered his sons with cruel knife,
     To get from Odin length of life.
     He lived until he had to turn
     His toothless mouth to the deer's horn;
     And he who shed his children's blood
     Sucked through the ox's horn his food.
     At length fell Death has tracked him down,
     Slowly, but sure, in Upsal's town."

And the Swedes in a grievous famine, when other great sacrifices proved unavailing, offered up their own king Domaldi; Ynglinga saga ch. 18:
Of Domald, Visbur's Son.
Domald took the heritage after his father Visbur, and ruled over the land.  As in his time there was great famine and distress, the Swedes made great offerings of sacrifice at Upsal.  The first autumn they sacrificed oxen, but the succeeding season was not improved thereby.  The following autumn they sacrificed men, but the succeeding year was rather worse.  The third autumn, when the offer of sacrifices should begin, a great multitude of Swedes came to Upsal; and now the chiefs held consultations with each other, and all agreed that the times of scarcity were on account of their king Domald, and they resolved to offer him for good seasons, and to assault and kill him, and sprinkle the stalle of the gods with his blood.  And they did so.  Thjodolf tells of this: 

     "It has happened oft ere now,
     That foeman's weapon has laid low
     The crowned head, where battle plain,
     Was miry red with the blood-rain.
     But Domald dies by bloody arms,
     Raised not by foes in war's alarms --
     Raised by his Swedish liegemen's hand,
     To bring good seasons to the land."

Animal sacrifices were mainly thank-offerings, but sometimes also expiatory, and as such they not seldom, by way of mitigation, took the place of a previous human sacrifice. I will now quote the evidences . Hercules and Mars they appease with beasts usually allowed for sacrifice.  “Of the gods, Mercury  is the principal object of their adoration; whom, on certain days,  they think it lawful to propitiate even with human victims. To Hercules and Mars they offer the animals usually allotted for sacrifice. Some of the Suevi also perform sacred rites to Isis. What was the cause and origin of this foreign worship, I have not been able to discover; further than that her being represented with the symbol of a galley, seems to indicate an imported religion. They conceive it unworthy the grandeur of celestial beings to confine their deities within walls, or to represent them under a human similitude: woods and groves are their temples; and they affix names of divinity to that secret power, which they behold with the eye of adoration alone.” (Tacitus Germ. 9)

 I.e., with animals suitable for the purpose and only those animals were suitable, whose flesh could be eaten by men. It would have been unbecoming to offer food to the god, which the sacrificer himself would have disdained. At the same time these sacrifices appear to be also banquets; an appointed portion of the slaughtered beast is placed before the god, the rest is cut up, distributed and consumed in the assembly. The people thus became partakers in the holy offering, and the god is regarded as feasting with them at their meal . At great sacrifices the kings were expected to taste each kind of food, and down to late times the house-spirits and dwarfs had their portion set aside for them by the superstitious people. The heathen Langobards permitted or expected the captive Christians to share their sacrificial feast.

In the earliest period, the horse seems to have been the favorite animal for sacrifice; there is no doubt that before the introduction of Christianity its flesh was universally eaten. There was nothing in the ways of the heathen so offensive to the new converts, as their not giving up the slaughter of horses (hrossa-slâtr) and the eating of horseflesh. The Christian Northmen reviled the Swedes as hross-æturnar (horseflesh-eaters),  King Hakon, whom his subjects suspected of Christianity, was called upon at hann skyldi eta hrossaslâtr; to eat horseflesh. From Tacitus ann. 13, 57 we learn that the Hermunduri sacrificed the horses of the defeated Catti. As late as the time of Boniface the Thuringians are strictly enjoined to abstain from horseflesh. Later, witches also are charged with eating horseflesh .

Here we must not overlook the cutting off of the head, which was not consumed with the rest, but consecrated by way of eminence to the god. When Caecina, on approaching the scene of Varus’s overthrow, saw horses heads fastened to the stems of trees (Tacitus ann. 1, 61), these were no other than the Roman horses, which the Germans had seized in the battle and offered up to their gods.  

But on horse-sacrifices among the heathen Norse we have further information of peculiar value. The St. Olaf s saga, ch. 113 , says:“that cattle and horses had been slain, and the altars sprinkled with their blood, and the sacrifices accompanied with the prayer that was made to obtain good seasons.” A tail-piece at the very end of the Hervararsaga mentions a similar sacrifice offered by the apostate Swedes at the election of king Svein (second half of 11th century):
“then was led forward a horse into the Thing, and hewed in sunder, and divided for eating, and they reddened with the blood the blot-tree, (…)”
Among all animal sacrifices, that of the horse was preeminent and most solemn. Our ancestors have this in common with several Slavic and Finnish nations, with Persians and Indians: with all of them the horse passed for a specially sacred animal.

The passage from Agathias proves the Alamannic custom, and that from the Olafssaga the Norse. A letter to Saint Boniface speaks of ungodly priests: “They sacrifice bulls, goats and civilian victims.”
And one from Gregory the Great affirms of the Angles: “They slaughter many in the sacrifices to demons.”

The Hack ox and Hack cow, which are not to be killed for the household, were they sacred sacrificial beasts? I will add a few examples from the Norse. Ynglinga saga, ch. 18: See above

Egils Saga, ch. 68 - Of Egil's journeyings:
“To the field was led forth a bull, large and old 'sacrificial beast' such was termed, to be slain by him who won the victory. Sometimes there was one such ox, sometimes each combatant had his own led forth.”

Boars, Pigs.
In the Salic Law, tit.2, a higher composition is set on the majalis sacrivus or votivus than on any other. This seems a relic of the ancient sacrifices of the heathen Franks ; else why the term sacrivus? True, there is no vast difference between 700 and 600 den. (17 and 15 sol.); but of animals so set apart for holy use there must have been a great number in heathen times, so that the price per head did not need to be high. Probably they were selected immediately after birth, and marked, and then reared with the rest till the time of sacrificing. In Frankish and Alamannic documents there often occurs the word friscing, usually for porcellus (piglet), but sometimes for agnus (lamb), occasionally in the more limited sense of porcinus and agninus; the word may by its origin express recens natus, new-born, but it now lives only in the sense of porcellus (frischling, piglet). How are we to explain then, that this OHG friscing in several writers translates precisely the Latin hostia (sacrifice, offering),  victima (victim), holocaustum (a burnt offering wholly consumed by fire) except as a reminiscence of heathenism? The Jewish paschal lamb would not suggest it, for in friscing the idea of porcellus was predominant. In the North, the expiatory boar, sonargoltr, offered to Freyr, was a periodical sacrifice; and Sweden has continued down to modern times the practice of baking loaves and cakes on Yule-eve in the shape of a boar.

This golden-bristled boar has left his track in inland Germany too. According to popular belief in Thuringia, whoever on Christmas eve abstains from all food till suppertime, will get sight of a young golden pig, i.e. in olden times it was brought up last at the evening banquet. A Lauterbach ordinance (weisthum) of 1589 decreed that unto a court hold on the day of the Three-kings, therefore in Yule time, the holders of farm-steads should furnish a clean goldferch (gold-hog) gelded while yet under milk; it was led round the benches, and no doubt slaughtered afterwards.

Rams, Goats.
As friscing came to mean victima, so conversely a name for animal sacrifice, Goth. sauðs, seems to have given rise to the ON. name for the animal itself, sauðr= wether. This species of sacrifice was therefore not rare, though it is seldom expressly mentioned, probably as being of small value. Only the saga Hakonar goða ch.16 informs us: About Sacrifices.
Sigurd, earl of Hlader, was one of the greatest men for sacrifices, and so had Hakon his father been; and Sigurd always presided on account of the king at all the festivals of sacrifice in the Throndhjem country.  It was an old custom, that when there was to be sacrifice all the bondes should come to the spot where the temple stood and bring with them all that they required while the festival of the sacrifice lasted.  To this festival all the men brought ale with them; and all kinds of cattle, (it seems to include goats) as well as horses, were slaughtered, and all the blood that came from them was called "hlaut", and the vessels in which it was collected were called hlaut-vessels.  Hlaut-staves were made, like sprinkling brushes, with which the whole of the altars and the temple walls, both outside and inside, were sprinkled over, and also the people were sprinkled with the blood; but the flesh was boiled into savoury meat for those present.  The fire was in the middle of the floor of the temple, and over it hung the kettles, and the full goblets were handed across the fire; and he who made the feast, and was a chief, blessed the full goblets, and all the meat of the sacrifice.  And first Odin's goblet was emptied for victory and power to his king; thereafter, Niord's and Freyja's goblets for peace and a good season.  Then it was the custom of many to empty the brage-goblet (the brage-goblet, over which vows were made.); and then the guests emptied a goblet to the memory of departed friends, called the remembrance goblet. 

In the Swedish superstition, the water-sprite, before it will teach any one to play the harp, requires the sacrifice of a black lamb. Gregory the Great speaks once of she-goats being sacrificed; he says the Langobards offer to the devil, i.e., to one of their gods, the head of a goat, that he ran about a poem dedicated to horror. This head of a she-goat (or he-goat ?) was reared aloft, and the people bowed before it. The hallowing of a he-goat among the ancient Prussians is well known. The Slavonian god Triglav is represented with three goats heads. If that Langobardic poem had been preserved, we could judge more exactly of the rite than from the report of Gregory the Great, who viewed it with hostile eyes.

About other sacrificial beasts we cannot be certain. But even then, what of domestic poultry, fowls, geese, pigeons ? The dove was a Jewish and Christian sacrifice, the Greeks offered cocks to Asclepios, and in Touraine a white cock used to be sacrificed to St. Christopher for the cure of a bad finger.  An AS. name for November is expressly blôtmôneð. The common man at his yearly slaughtering gets up a feast, and sends meat and sausages to his neighbor’s, which may be a survival of the common sacrifice and distribution of flesh.

It is remarkable that in Servia too, at the solemn burning of the badnyak, which is exactly like the yule-log, a whole swine is roasted, and often a sucking pig along with it.

Of game, doubtless only those fit to eat were fit to sacrifice, stags, roes, wild boars, but never bears, wolves or foxes, who themselves possess a ghostly being, and receive a kind of worship. Yet one might suppose that for expiation uneatable beasts, equally with men, might be offered, just as slaves and also hounds and falcons followed the burnt body of their master. Here we must first of all place Adam of Bremen’s description of the great sacrifice at Uppsala: “It is usually celebrated at the solemn order of the end of nine years of nature shared by all Sveoniae of the provinces, to the exemption from taxes which none are given to the person; their kings, and the people, that all and every one of her gifts is likewise transmit to the Uppsala, and, more cruel than any punishment that is to say, those who have already accepted Christianity, and put on them, from the ceremonies would redeem themselves. The sacrifice, therefore, such is: the male, out of every living creature, that is to say, the heads of the nine are offered; their blood will appease the gods with it. But the bodies are suspended from a pole next to the temple. Every one of the trees that were believed to be those of the death of the divine (smeared) or with filth and gore of sacrificial lambs. There also are dogs who can hang with the human sacrifices, I was told by a certain person of the Christians themselves, of whom seventy-two hung up, he saw the bodies of a mixture of tar.”

The number nine is prominent in this Swedish sacrificial feast, exactly as in the Danish; but here also all is conceived in the spirit of legend. First, the heads of victims seem the essential thing again, as among the Franks and Langobards; at the same time remind us of the old judicial custom of hanging up wolves or dogs by the side of criminals . That only the male sex of every living creature is here to be sacrificed, is in striking accord with an episode in the Eeinardus, which was composed less than a century after Adam, and in its groundwork might well be contemporary with him. At the wedding of a king, the males of all quadrupeds and birds were to have been slaughtered, but the cock and gander had made their escape. It looks to me like a legend of the olden time, which still circulated in the 11th-12th centuries.

Anyhow, in heathen times vide animals seem to be in special demand for sacrifice. As for killing one of every species, it would be such a stupendous affair, that its actual execution could never have been conceivable ; it can only have existed in popular tradition. It is something like the old Mirror of Saxony and that of Swabia assuring us that every living creature present at a deed of rapine, whether oxen, horses, cats, dogs, fowls, geese, swine or men, had to be beheaded, as well as the actual delinquent (in real fact, only when they were his property); or like the Edda relating how oaths were exacted of all animals and plants, and all beings were required to weep. The creatures belonging to a man, his domestic animals, have to suffer with him in case of cremation, sacrifice or punishment.

Next to the kind, stress was undoubtedly laid on the color of the animal, white being considered the most favorable. White horses are often spoken of:  “Certain of these animals, milk-white, and untouched by earthly labor, are pastured at the public expense in the sacred woods and groves.” (Tacitus Germ. 10) The friscing of sacrifice was probably of a spotless white; and in later law records snow-white pigs are pronounced inviolable. The Votiaks sacrificed a red stallion, the Tcheremisses a white. When under the old German law dun or pied cattle were often required in payment of fines and tithes, this might have some connection with sacrifices. For witchcraft also, animals of a particular hue were requisite. The water-sprite demanded a black lamb, and the huldres have a black lamb and Hack cat offered up to them. We may suppose that cattle were garlanded and adorned for sacrifice. A passage in the Edda requires gold-horned cows, (Saem. 141) and in the village of Fienstadt in Mansfeld a coal-black ox with a white star and white feet, and a he-goat with gilded horns were imposed as dues. There are indications that the animals, before being slaughtered, were led round within the circle of the assembly that is how I explain the leading round the benches, and about to run (Eyrbyggja saga, p. 10. And none should they kill neither beast nor man, unless of itself it ran a-tilt.), perhaps, as among the Greeks and Komans, to give them the appearance of going voluntarily to death.  Probably care had to be taken also that the victim should not have been used in the service of man, e.g., that the ox had never drawn plough or wagon. For such colts and bullocks are required in our ancient law-records at a formal transfer of land, or the ploughing to death of removers of landmarks.

On the actual procedure in a sacrifice, we have scarcely any information except from Norse authorities. While the animal laid down its life on the sacrificial stone, all the streaming blood (ON. hlauf) was caught either in a hollow dug for the purpose, or in vessels. With this gore they smeared the sacred vessels and utensils, and sprinkled the participants.  (Saga Hakonar goða ch.16.  (see above)
 “On the stall should also stand the blood-bowl, and therein the blood-rod was, like unto a sprinkler, and therewith should be sprinkled from the bowl that blood which is called "Hlaut", which was that kind of blood which flowed when those beasts were smitten who were sacrificed to the Gods. But round about the stall were the Gods arrayed in the Holy Place.” Eyrbyggja saga, ch.4. )

Apparently divination was performed by means of the blood, perhaps a part of it was mixed with ale or mead, and drunk. In the North the bloodbowls (hlautbollar, blôtbollar) do not seem to have been large; some nations had big cauldrons made for the purpose. The Swedes were taunted by Olafr Tryggvason with sitting at home and licking their sacrificial pots. A cauldron of the Cimbri is noticed in Strabo 7, 2. Another cauldron of the Suevi, in the Life of St. Columban: These are the seeds which it is out of the neighboring nations of the Suevi and the Vandals; And when he was a long time there and found them the sacrifice of what was commonly called a strong liqor, which lasted more or less, and then contain the six measures of, beer in the middle. To which he asked them to whom they offered. They say their god, Wotan, whom we call Mercury. (Jonas Bobbiensis, vita Columb.) Here we are expressly told that the cauldron was filled with ale, and not that the blood of a victim was mixed with it; unless the narrative is incomplete, it may have meant only a drink-offering.

Usually the cauldron served to cook, i.e. boil, the victim’s flesh; it never was roasted. From this seething, according to my conjecture, the ram was called sauþs, and those who took part in the sacrifice suđnautar (partakers of the sodden), the boiling, the cauldrons and pots of witches in later times may be connected with this. The distribution of the pieces among the people was probably undertaken by a priest ; on great holidays the feast was held there and then in the assembly, on other occasions each person might doubtless take his share home with him.  They also ate the strong broth and the fat swimming at the top.  The heathen offer their king Hakon, on his refusing the flesh, drecka soðit and eta flotit. (saga Hakonar goða.)  
They say the Cimbri had this custom, that their women marching with them were accompanied by priestess-prophetesses, gray-haired, white-robed, with a linen scarf buckled over the shoulder, wearing a brazen girdle, and bare-footed; these met the prisoners in the camp, sword in hand, and having crowned them, led them to a brass basin as large as 30 amphora? (180 gals); and they had a ladder, which the priestess mounted, and standing over the basin, cut the throat of each as he was handed up. With the blood that gushed into the basin, they made a prophecy. The trolds too, a kind of elves, have a copper kettle, the Christians long believed in a Saturni dolium (Devils bath), and in a large cauldron in hell.

That priests and people really ate the food: The Capitularies 7, 405 adopt the statement in Epist. Bonif. cap. 25 of a Christian priest “Jupiter slaying and eating the flesh victims”, only altering it to: “gods cost, so he was eating meat sacrificed.” We may suppose that private persons were allowed to offer small gifts to the gods on particular occasions, and consume a part of them; this the Christians called “to offer to both of the Gentiles, and for the glory of the demons”  (Capit. de part. Sax. 20.)

It is likely also, that certain nobler parts of the animal were assigned to the gods, the head, liver, heart, tongue. The head and skin of slaughtered game were suspended on trees in honor of them .
Whole burnt offerings, where the animal was converted into ashes on the pile of wood, do not seem to have been in use. Neither were incense-offerings used ; the sweet incense of the Christians was a new thing to the heathen.

While the sacrifice of a slain animal is more sociable, more universal, and is usually offered by the collective nation or community; fruit or flowers, milk or honey is what any household, or even an individual may give. These Fruit-offerings are therefore more solitary and paltry; history scarcely mentions them, but they have lingered the longer and more steadfastly in popular customs.
When the husbandman cuts his corn, he leaves a clump of ears standing for the god who blessed the harvest, and he adorns it with ribbons. To this day, at a fruit-gathering in Holstein, five or six apples are left hanging on each tree, and then the next crop will thrive. More striking examples of this custom will be given later, in treating of individual gods. But, just as tame and eatable animals were especially available for sacrifice, so are fruit-trees (frugiferae arbores, Tacitus Germ. 10), and grains; and at a formal transfer of land, boughs covered with leaves, apples or nuts are used as earnest of the bargain. The MHG. poet (Fundgr. II, 25) describes Cain’s sacrifice in the words: “A sheaf he took, he would offer it with ears and eke with spikes”: a formula expressing at once the upper part or beard (arista), and the whole ear and stalk (spica) as well. Under this head we also put the crowning of the divine image, of a sacred tree or a sacrificed animal with foliage or flowers; not the faintest trace of this appears in the Norse sagas, and as little in our oldest documents. From later times and surviving folk-tales I can bring forward a few things. On Ascension day the girls in more than one part of Germany twine garlands of white and red flowers, and hang them up in the dwelling room or over the cattle in the stable, where they remain till replaced by fresh ones the next year.

At the village of Questenberg in the Harz, on the third day in Whitsuntide, the lads carry an oak up the castle-hill which overlooks the whole district, and, when they have set it upright, fasten to it a large garland of branches of trees plaited together, and as big as a cartwheel. They all shout the quest (i.e. garland) hangs, and then they dance round the tree on the hill top; both tree and garland are renewed every year.

 Not far from the Meisner mountain in Hesse stands a high precipice with a cavern opening under it, which goes by the name of the Hollow Stone. Into this cavern every Easter Monday the youths and maidens of the neighboring villages carry nosegays, and then draw some cooling water. No one will venture down, unless he has flowers with him.  The lands in some Hessian townships have to pay a bunch of mayflowers (lilies of the valley) every year for rent.

In all these examples, which can easily be multiplied, a heathen practice seems to have been transferred to Christian festivals and offerings.  Beside cattle and grain, other valuables were offered to particular gods and in special cases, as even in Christian times voyagers at sea e.g. would vow a silver ship to their church as a votive gift; also articles of clothing, e.g. red shoes.

 Jacob Grimm,Teutonic mythology (Vol.1)

Wednesday, 11 March 2020

Irish and Norse Battle Goddesses




Irish and Old-Norse Battle Spirits: Protective Goddesses or Omens of Death?
              

Battle spirits play an important role in the lives of warriors. It is considered a bad omen when they appear to warriors previous to battle. They seem to reign over life and death, but are they connected to fate? Are they just evil beings who delight in slaughter and blood or is it possible that they also have a more affectionate, protecting side? Morrígan evidently shows this protectiveness when Cú Chulainn is concerned, but how about the Old-Norse valkyrjur?

An investigation of different situations in which battle spirits appear in both the medieval Irish and the Old-Norse literature. The central tale in the Irish part will be Táin Bó Cúailnge (‘The cattle raid of Cooley’, TBC), and in the Old-Norse literature the focus will lie on Völsunga Saga.  

The names of the Irish battle spirits are: Badb, Neman, Macha and Morrígan.
Neman, Macha and Morrigu are mentioned as the so called sisters of the Badb but: “The name Badb seemed to refer to the mythological beings supposed to rule over battle and carnage.”  Badb is said to be “bean sidhe, a female fairy, phantom, or spectre, supposed to be attached to certain families and to appear sometimes in the form of squall crows, or royston crows”. The remark that she was supposedly attached to a certain family resembles the Old-Norse fylgja who was a spirit connected to a person or family, usually this being would only appear to warn for an upcoming death. According to the Dictionary of the Irish Language (DIL) Badb is the name of a war goddess, and gives the meaning “scald crow, in which form the goddess appeared”. Furthermore it states that it is used in the sense of deadly”, “fatal”, “dangerous” and “ill-fated”.

Némain, or Neamhan, is equated to “a badb catha, or a Royston crow”, but this is not an etymological explanation. According to DIL she is the wife of Neit, a war god, and she is sometimes identified with Badb. Her name is said to mean “battle-fury”, “warlike frenzy”, “strife”, “murder” and “malice”.

Macha is said to mean magpie in DIL. DIL also says that Macha is one of the three war goddesses of the Túatha Dé Danann, a daughter of Ernmas and the sister of Badb and Morrígu. It notes that she is sometimes identified with Badb and that her name is indeed also interpreted to mean “royston crow”.

DIL, gives for Morrígan: Morrígan and Morrígu f. name of an ancient Irish war-goddess.  Morrígan is obviously associated with the supernatural, and that she was seen as very frightening. The mara is the manifestation of someone’s jealous thoughts and evil desires in a tangible form. The mara was said to cause anxiety, pain and loss of breath. Often the person (usually female) turning into a mara is not aware that this happened and only feels tired the morning after the attack. A mara can also be the result of magic. By comparing these meanings it becomes clear that these women are associated with the supernatural, battle, bad luck, ill omens and crows. They represent negative, chaotic powers closely connected to slaughter, fate and battle.  

Battle spirits have many different functions; in some stories they appear for example as prophetesses, in other as protective and guiding (in an educational way) goddesses or beings strongly connected to fate. They can either play an important role in stories or just be mentioned as frightening, screaming beings present on the battlefield.

In the Old-Norse literature the most important beings associated with battle and death are the fylgjur (sg. fylgja) and the valkyrjur (sg. valkyrja). They show some similarities with the Irish battle spirits mentioned above.

Fylgjur
In the Old-Norse literature we find two types of fylgjur. The term fylgja seems to be derived from the Old-Norse fylgð, “to follow”. The first type appears in the shape of an animal, the second type appears in the guise of a woman. The only thing they have in common is the name.

The animal-fylgja was the alter ego of the person it belonged to. It belonged to a specific person; it came into this world together with him, and died together with him (or a little before him, to be precise). These fylgjur only became visible in times of crisis and this was then often followed by bad luck and death. They also showed themselves when someone was about to die as an omen of death. The animal-fylgja did not have its own identity and when seen acted the way its owner would act later. Its behavior could not be influenced and the animal was not able to do anything to help its alter ego and prevent him from dying. The animal-fylgja was an outer soul that someone had besides the soul of the body. It was always near its owner, though mainly invisible.

The only thing the animal-fylgjur and the Irish battle spirits have in common is that they both appear as a warning sign and often an omen of death. In my opinion both the Irish battle spirits (and then I mean the ones who are only depicted screaming, Morrígan does have more influence) and the animal-fylgjur are guided by some sort of external fate. They are not able to influence fate.

Fylgjur could also appear in the guise of a woman. They could appear both in groups (each person had more than one fylgja in that case) or alone. It was not so common for these fylgjur to appear as an omen of death, but when they did, they would often ride death-horses which made it very difficult to distinguish them from valkyrjur (Odin’s ‘choosers of the slain’ and warrior maidens). The fylgjur usually emerged to protect and help people. They could for example give people advice (which would ultimately lead to the death of the person the advice was given to, whether he followed it or not), they could give information about the future and help giving birth (in those cases they are closely related to the Nornir: (the fates in Old-Norse mythology). When a fylgja left the person she protected, it would inevitably lead to misfortune and death.  The female fylgjur are very different from the animal-fylgjur since the female fylgjur have their own identity and will and are not always near a specific person. The individual fylgja does often protect a specific person, but she can choose to leave him at any time. If she does leave someone, that person will die. She is therefore connected to fate, like the Nornir. Unlike the animal-fylgja the female fylgja does not die together with the person she protects. She will move on to someone else. She is in this aspect more connected to a tribe than to a specific person. These fylgjur share similarities with the Irish battle spirits who also do not die when the people they protect die. Irish battle spirits also have a will and identity of their own.

Valkyrjur
The valkyrjur are described in the Poetic Edda and Snorra Edda as the maidens of Odin who join in battle and choose the warriors who are to fall. The word has the etymology kjósaval which refers to the fact that the valkyrja chooses which warriors are going to fall. The traditional valkyrja has two functions: she is present on the battlefield where she chooses the bravest warriors whom she then brings  to Valhöll, Odin’s hall, where she presents them with drinks. In Valhöll the warriors are trained to fight alongside the gods during Ragnarök, the last big battle before the world ends.

The names of the valkyrjur are mentioned in Völuspá (‘The seeress’s prophecy’); a poem found in the Poetic Edda:  “She saw valkyries, coming from afar, ready for their journey to the people of the gods, Skuld raised her shield, Skogul another, Gunn, Hild, Gondul and Geirskogul; now they are named, the maidens of the Warrior, the valkyries, ready for their journey to the earth.”

The valkyrjur are clearly an omen for battle:
where valkyrjur are present, a battle is not far away. In Völuspá they warn for the end of the world. The fact that Skuld is named as both one of the nornir and as a valkyrja, shows, in my opinion, that the valkyrjur have something to do with fate; they do after all choose who is going to die. I do not think valkyrjur were always regarded as scary beings, the way Badb is seen in the Irish literature, for death did not frighten the warriors. On the contrary, they saw death almost as a reward: only the best warriors were chosen to follow Odin to Vallhöl. It is true, however, that in the mythological Eddic poems the valkyrjur mainly appear in battle riding on horses accompanied by thunder and lightning, while in the more heroic tales the valkyrjur usually play a more protecting role.

Valkyrjur were also connected to ravens, just like the Irish battle spirits are connected to birds of prey. Haraldskvæði presents a valkyrja interrogating a raven. The later version of Völsunga Saga mentions a valkyrja taking the shape of a crow. The ravens also strengthen their connection to Odin, the god of battle. He is called the Raven’s God by Snorre since he has two ravens, Huginn and Muninn (Thought and Memory) who keep him up to date on what happens in the world.

Battle spirits making prophecies
Badb and Morrígan appear as prophetesses in some stories, usually predicting death and sorrow.
The most important instances concerning Badb occur in Togail Bruidne Da Derga (‘The destruction of Da Derga’s hostel’, TBDD) and Bruidne Da Choca (‘Da Choca’s hostel’, BDC). Morrígan makes significant prophecies about the fate of the world in Cath Maige Tuired (‘The second battle of Mag Tuired’, CMT), which can be compared to the Old-Norse prophecy Völuspá’ (‘The seeress’s prophecy’). Throughout Táin Bó Cúailnge (‘The cattle raid of Cooley’, TBC) we also find various instances of battle spirits predicting death.

Badb prophesizing death while closing the left eye
In Togail Bruidne Da Derga Badb appears as a big, old bearded woman with her mouth on one side of her head. She comes to king Conaire, the main character of the tale while he is staying in Da Derga’s hostel. There she casts a baleful eye upon him and foretells his death. King Conaire then asks the woman her name and she chants him a list of names while standing on one foot, holding one hand up and breathing one breath. This list includes Badb and Némain, the names of war goddesses. Here Badb is described as a big woman having an evil eye and this eye makes king Conaire think that she might be a seer. Badb is portrayed in TBDD as a very big woman when she warned for slaughter. Right before the start of a battle a big female being called a trollkona (witchwoman) would sometimes appear in the Old-Norse literature. An example of such a woman can be seen in Harald Hardrådes saga (‘The saga of Harald Hardråde’) in Snorre Sturlusons Heimskringla (generally translated into English as: The chronicle of the kings of Norway, but literally meaning ‘The round world’). In chapter 80 Gyrd, one of the men on Harald’s ship, has a dream in which he stood on the ship and saw a trollkona (witch woman) standing on the island. She had a sword in one hand and a trough in the other. He also saw ravens and ernes on every stern of the ship. She then recites a poem which warns them for battle and death and says that the ravens will find enough on the ships to feed on if the king sails to the west. In the next chapter a man on a ship close to king Harald’s ship also has a dream. He dreams about king Harald’s ship arriving in England, where a big army awaits them. Before the army he sees a big woman riding a wolf. The wolf has a dead man’s body in his mouth and blood is dripping from his jaw. When the wolf finishes eating one body, the woman throws another one into his mouth until he has eaten all of the bodies. She also recites a poem in which she describes how magic will let the red shields shine when a battle approaches and she sees that the king will be travelling towards ill-luck.

It becomes clear that these Old-Norse frightening battle spirits, who are not necessarily fylgjur or valkyrjur, are also connected to ravens and blood, just like the Irish Badb and Morrígan. These Irish women are also often represented as very big, as in TBDD. Wolves also often seem present on battle fields; here in Harald Hardrådes saga the big woman rides the wolf and feeds it with the corpses. The woman is from the Jotun race, the race of giants. These people were connected to the Otherworld, and they often appear together with wolves. Wolves are therefore also associated with otherworldly beings. The wolf and the raven were in addition animals associated with Odin, the god of war. According to Grímnismál (‘The song of the masked one’) Odin has two wolves: Freki and Geri (Eager and Voracious). In Táin Bó Cúailnge Morrígan takes the shape of a wolf when she attacks Cú Chulainn. Here we also see wolves connected to battle and the Otherworld.

John Carey wondered why wolves, and werewolves in particular, were associated with the Otherworld. The Irish term conricht ‘wolf-shape’ is used in connection to the afterlife. Carey mentions a Norse author who wrote about Irish werewolves depicting them as an entire clan who turned into wolves as a result of a curse. These were probably shape-shifters and Carey notes that in the Old-Norse tales the people turning into wolves were merely wearing wolfskins and acting with wolfish ferocity, but they were usually not shape-shifting. Some Irish tales also use the werewolf as a metaphor for fierce behaviour.

In ‘Bruidne Da Choca’ Badb makes two prophecies but here her height is not mentioned. In the first one she appears as a red woman washing Cormac’s bloody harness at the ford. Cormac asks one of his followers to ask the woman what she is doing, and Badb answers with a prophecy while standing on one foot with one eye closed. She tells them that she is washing the harness of the king who will perish and the harnesses of his men of trust. Badb visits them again to foretell the death of the army appearing as a “bigmouthed, swarthy, swift, sooty woman, lame and squinting with her left eye.” She predicts death while leaning her shoulder against the doorpost, which possibly means that she is standing on one foot. A blind left eye or closing the left eye is obviously linked to the supernatural and associated with having access to or possessing otherwise hidden knowledge. In the Irish literature the blinding of an eye was associated with gaining wisdom. The word túatcoech, a variant of túatcháech, meaning one-eyed or blind in the left eye, is mentioned in Bruidne Da Choca in connection to Badb, and is found in this tale in a context of the supernatural and mortal danger for the hero of the tale.

A possible parallel is found in the Old-Norse literature where Odin, the god of wisdom, has sacrificed one of his eyes to gain wisdom from a well. Odin possessed remarkable sight; he could see over all the worlds and even see hidden things, so his sight was one of his most valuable possessions. In the Old-Norse mythology the blinding of one eye also gives more wisdom. The literature never mentions, however, which eye should be blinded. In the Irish texts the left eye is specifically mentioned. Possibly because the term túath- covers ‘northern; (on the) left; perverse, wicked, evil’ and therefore associated the left with negative and the supernatural.

Odin was also said to be able to perform a paralyzing spell which put shackles on enemies thus causing a state of momentary immobility. There is a possible parallel between Odin and the Irish hero Balor, as Balor’s eye was said to be paralyzing.

Morrígan’s final prophecy in Cath Maige Tuired and the Old-Norse Völuspá.
Cath Maige Tuired narrates the epic battle between the Túatha Dé Danann and the Fomoire. It is a battle between the pagan gods of Ireland and their enemies who once were supernatural beings as well. It starts describing the root of the conflict and recounts the first battle of Mag Tuired, Cath Maige Tuired Cunga (‘The battle of Mag Tuired of Cong’ CMTC). There are two versions available of this text, one of them based on Old-Irish material and one Early Modern-Irish version. The dates assigned to the earlier version range from the early ninth to twelfth centuries. It seems most likely that it is the product of an eleventh- or twelfth-century redactor working on ninth-century material. Morrígan’s prophecies in CMT are bigger and of a greater importance than the prophecies Badb makes. After the battle was fought, in §166 of CMT, Morrígan proceeds “to announce the battle and the great victory which had occurred there to the royal heights of Ireland and to its síd-hosts, to its chief waters and to its river mouths. And that is the reason Badb still relates great deeds.” Morrígan is then asked for news and at this point she recites a prophecy about good fortune. It promises peace and wealth: “Peace up to heaven. / Heaven down to earth. / Earth beneath heaven, / Strength in each, / A cup very full, / Full of honey; / Mead in abundance. / Summer in winter… / Peace up to heaven…”. Morrígan’s role in battle is obviously an important one, since it is her task to announce the end of the battle. This prophecy also strengthens the belief that Morrígan is associated with the fertility of the land and prosperity; if she was not, why then would she make this prophecy?

Then Morrígan prophesies the end of the world:
 “I shall not see / a world of the living (?): / summer will be without flowers, / cows will be without milk, / women without modesty, / men without courage, (…)Welcome to evil, / a lament for custom, /all faces / withering in guilt (?), / many crimes, / conflict of battle, / trust in horse-goads (?), many trysts, / betrayal of princes’ sons, / a shroud of sorrows, / crooked judgement of elders, / lying maxims of judges,/ every man a betrayer, / every youth a brigand. / The son will go into his father’s bed; / the father will go into his son's bed; / everyone will be his brother’s brother-in-law: / no one will seek a wife away from home. / Good fortune will be born (?): / evil is the time / in which a son will betray his father, / in which a daughter will betray…”

Carey says about CMT and this final prophecy: The story is a parable of Ireland’s state in the second half of the ninth century, concerned primarily with the erosion of traditional values. In the story, the threat is recognized, opposed and thwarted; but we are not allowed to take much comfort in this paradigmatic victory. At the very moment of triumph, the war-goddess looks into the future and sees the same dangers resurgent in the Ireland of the author, the “present” in which CMT was written. What she beheld may indeed have seemed, to many of those then living, to be the end of the world. The prophecies of the Morrígan have often been compared to the Old-Norse Eddic poem Völuspá, ‘The seeress’s prophecy’. This is a prophecy describing the development of the world, from the creation of the world itself and its inhabitants, until its inevitable ending and following immediate resurrection. The degeneration of society’s rules which signifies the beginning of Ragnarök, the end of the world, is described in stanza 45:  “Brothers will be each other’s curse; relatives will break blood ties, the world is hard, prostitution reigns, a time of axes, a time of swords, shields will split, a time of wind, a time of wolves, before the world rotates, no man will spare another.”

This prophecy shows a close resemblance with the way Morrígan describes the end of the world. Both cultures associate the end of the world with a diminishing of the values of society. Morrígan starts by prophesizing the victory of the Túatha Dé Danann in the battle of Mag Tuired. Yet this victory will be pursued by a destruction of the values, beliefs and customs of the era she lived in; this destruction will take place in the time that CMT is written. Völuspá, however, first describes the terrible things that will happen when the world comes to an end, but promises that a better, prosperous world will emerge afterwards. The very last stanza of Völuspá, in which the prophetess sees a dark dragon holding corpses between its wings approaching, might be interpreted as a warning that even this wonderful new world will also eventually come to an end. This might signify that the world somehow is not complete without a chaotic power and that even when the chaotic powers are destroyed, they will always find a way to return.

So where Morrígan’s prophecies predict a victory that will eventually end in destruction in the future, Völuspá prophesizes a destruction that will lead to the emerging of a much better world. We do not know, however, if Morrígan’s prophecy is complete. So no final conclusions can be made.

Old-Norse mythology is all about maintaining order. Ragnarök is in that view an outburst of chaos which will lead to a perfect orderly world. Morrígan represents a chaotic power in the Irish literature. The chaotic quality is not a matter of how she behaves towards the Dagda but the forces which she symbolizes. E.A. Gray says about this: Throughout Irish literature, the Morrígan represents the destructive and chaotic violence of warfare. Because the powers she symbolizes inevitably inflict losses on both sides of the conflict, the Morrígan is an ambiguous figure; and the extent of her support for any given cause can never be simply assumed. By making the Morrígan a kinswoman of the Túatha Dé Danann, the forces of order, rather than of the Fomoire, Irish myth symbolically supports the belief that, on the whole, battle tends to establish justice and to maintain social order.

Prophecies and omens of death in Táin Bó Cúailnge
Early in Táin Bó Cúailnge Morrígan prophesizes the cattle raid to the big black bull. In the form of a bird she perches on the pillar stone on Temair Cúailnge and predicts a great war to the bull the Táin Bó Cúailnge is about. Here Morrígan is equated to Allecto, one of the Greek furies. She can see the future and predicts death and sorrow. We should be aware that influences from other cultures are often present in medieval texts.

Throughout TBC battle spirits appear as an omen of death. They often appear to the armies and scream and frighten them. In ‘The fight of Fer Diad and Cú Chulainn’, for example, Fer Diad recites a poem to encourage his charioteer: “Let us go to this encounter, to contend with this man, until we reach that ford above which the war-goddess (Badb) will shriek. Let us go to meet Cú Chulainn, to wound his slender body, so that a spear-point may pierce him and he may die thereof.” The scream of the war-goddess is here seen as a clear omen of death.

After a description of the vision that the poet Dubthach has, the army is attacked by Némain and is totally confused after her appearance. A closer look at Némain’s name might explain the confusion: her name means panic. According to Hennessy “she confounds armies, so that friendly bands fall in mutual slaughter”. Némain also occurs after another vision of the poet Dubthach; she then attacks the host: “The war-goddess attacked the host. A hundred of them fell dead.” In these instances Némain has an active role: she attacks the army and brings confusion, panic and death.

In ‘The march of the companies’ Morrígan is standing between the encampments of the Érainn and the Ulaid and says: “Ravens gnaw the necks of men. Blood flows. Battle is fought… Hail to the men of Ulster! Woe to the Érainn! Woe to the men of Ulster! Hail to the Érainn!’ These were the words she whispered to the Érainn: ‘Woe to the men of Ulster for they have not won (?) the battle.’” Here she urges both sides on to battle and foretells victory to both. Her promise to the Érainn is a false one since Badb, Bé Néit and Némain shriek above their encampments later that night which causes hundreds of Érainn warriors to die of terror.

There are two other instances where the screams of the war goddesses prophesizes the death of warriors. The screams of Badb, Bé Neit and Némain scare a hundred Érainn-warriors so much that they die from fear. Here we see that the Irish battle spirits sometimes make false promises. The valkyrjur did not do that; they acted out Odin’s will. Odin granted victory to a certain army, and the valkyrjur ensured this. If they acted on their own accord a punishment would follow as happened to Sígrdrífa in Sígrdrífumál (‘The lay of Sígrdrífa’). In this instance I do not think Irish battle spirits show many similarities with the valkyrjur since for the Old-Norse warriors being chosen to die by the valkyrjur was not seen as negative: after all only the best warriors were chosen. I think the screaming battle spirits who are an omen of death can however tentatively be compared to the fylgjur, since both were not always present but only showed themselves before a battle to warn for slaughter and death.

Genealogical relationships between battle spirits.
In Leabhar Gabhála ‘The book of invasions of Ireland’ (LG) and in Cath Muige Tuired Cunga ‘The battle of Mag Tuired of Cong’ (CMTC) Morrígan, Badb and Macha are depicted as sisters. Leabhar Gabhála provides a fictitious history of Ireland until the coming of Christianity. It contains accounts on the Túatha Dé Danann and the Fomoire. The version I use is the first Recension which is found in the Book of Leinster, R. Mark Scowcroft dates this text to the 12th century. In §103 of LG the genealogical relation is mentioned: Badb, Macha and Moir-Rigan, the three daughters of Dealbaeth, son of Ned, son of Ionda. Ernbas, daughter of Eatarlamh, son of Ordan, son of Iondae, son of Alldae was the mother of all those women. Mor-Riogan had another name, Ana; from her are named the Paps of Anann in East Luachair. In the version Koch used are Badb, Macha and Anand the three daughters of Ernmas in the corresponding episode.  In the next paragraph, §72, a significant change is made: the name of Anand is changed to Morrígan. In §91 of this version it becomes clear that Anann from §71 is in fact Morrígan: “Ernmas had three more daughters: Badb and Macha and Morrígu (whose name was Anann).” Here we see that Badb, Macha and Morrígu were the daughters of a female witch.

Cath Muige Tuired Cunga deals with the travellings of the Fir Bolg and the Túatha Dé Danann and their arrival in Ireland. It then continues with their meeting in Ireland and narrates of the negotiations for a peaceful settlement of the claims of the Tuatha Dé Danann and it concludes with the actual first Battle of Mag Tuired. We are told that after the battle was fought, the defeated Fir Bolg settled in Connaught. This text is of a later date than Cath Maige Tuired and it might have used CMT as a model. In §39 at the beginning of the battle, Badb, Macha and Morrígan are said to have accompanied the chiefs who went in front of the Túatha Dé Danann. I think this suggests that these women actively participated in battle, not just as sorceresses watching from the side. The fact that they are continuously mentioned throughout the story also shows that they were of importance.

On the last day of battle the Badba  “furies and monsters and hags of doom”, cried out so loud that their screams were heard everywhere. These fierce cries of the battle spirits do not predict anything good: “It was like the fearful agonising cry on the last dreadful day when the human race will part from all in this world.” The Túatha Dé Danann then advanced together with a tri bantuathacha  “the three sorceresses, Badb, Macha and Mor(r)ígan”. Eventually, after a fierce battle, the Fir Bolg were defeated.

Morrígan, Badb and Macha sometimes appear as a trio, the valkyrjur often appear in groups of nine. I have not found any evidence for genealogical relationships between valkyrjur but the valkyrja Svava is called the reincarnation of the valkyrja Sigrun in Helgakviða Hundingsbana önnor (generally translated as: The second ballad of Helgi, the killer of Dog’s son).

Battle spirits controlling the weather
In §29 of CMTC, in the middle of the battle from the Túatha Dé Danann against the Fir Bolg, Badb, Macha and Morrígan went to the Knoll of the Taking of the Hostages, and to the Hill of Summoning at Tara  “and set forth magic showers of sorcery and compact clouds of mist and a furious rain of fire, with a downpour of red blood from the air on the warriors’ heads.” Here the women work as a trio of  sorceresses to protect and help their own people.

This incident can be compared to the way the valkyrjur control the weather in Helgakviða Hundingsbana önnor. When Helgi is on his way to declare war to the man who has betrothed himself to Sigrun, a valkyrja who is the love of Helgi’s life, Sigrun protects him twice by making a fierce thunderstorm calm down so that his ship can safely reach land. The arrival of the valkyrjur in battle is also often ccompanied by thunder and lightning. It is striking that in both cultures these kind of supernatural beings are able to control the weather.

Birds in the Irish and Old-Norse material
Valkyrjur were able to take an animal form and usually chose the guise of a swan. An example of this is found in Helreið Brynhildar (‘Brynhild’s hell-ride’) where Odin lets eight sisters, including the young Brynhild, wear swan coats. By giving them these coats they are made valkyrjur. In this saga a man named Agnar steals the swan coats of the girls when they are bathing, he forces them into his service by doing so. Another example is present in Völundarkviða (‘The lay of Völund’). There three brothers meet three valkyrjur on the edge of a lake. They knew the women were valkyrjur because their swan coats were lying next to them. The brothers wooed the girls and won them. They lived together for seven winters, after that the girls flew away. They went back to their battles, and never returned. The swan coats allowed the valkyrjur to fly through the air. Swan maidens had another specific function: they granted wishes, they are therefore referred to as óskmeyjar, ‘wish maidens’. This name also strengthens their connection to Odin. Odin has many names; all mentioned in Snorra Edda. One of them is Óski, derived from the Old-Norse word ósk ‘wish’.

An interesting parallel with the motif of girls being able to take the shape of a swan is found in the Irish tale Aided Derbforgaill (‘The death of Derbforgaill’). In this tale Derbforgaill and one of her handmaidens take the form of swans and fly to Loch Cuan to seek Cú Chulainn, whom Derbforgaill has fallen in love with. In Aided Derbforgaill it is stated that Derbforgail was the daughter of the king of Lochlann, or Norway. Another variant of this story is found in Tochmarc Emire (‘The wooing of Emer’). In this tale, however, Derbforgaill is said to be the daughter of the king of the Western Isles.  Carl Marstrander points out that even though the idea of human beings in the form of animals is characteristically Germanic, it should not be assumed that Aided Derbforgaill was composed under Norse influence, since Irish texts of an undoubtedly earlier date (See: Compert Conculainn, ‘The conception of Cú Chulainn’, and Serglige Con Culainn, ‘The wasting sickness of Cú Chulainn’, as examples) contain the same concept.

In Serglige Con Culainn a group of women that has fallen in love with Cú Chulainn sees a flock of beautiful birds. They all want to have a pair and Cú Chulainn shoots a pair for each of the women, except for his own wife. He wants to give her two more beautiful birds connected to each other with a red-gold chain. Cú Chulainn’s wife forbids him to hunt these birds; she has a feeling that these birds possess some kind of power. Cú Chulainn ignores her warning. He only succeeds to pierce the wing of one of the birds with his javelin. He is angry but falls asleep. He then has a vision in which two angry women beat him up severely with a horsewhip. He is barely alive when they finally leave him. Cú Chulainn then realises that the birds were supernatural women.

In Oidhe Chloinne Lir ‘The tragedy of the children of Lir’ the jealous Aoife turns Lir’s children into swans, she had planned to kill them, but her womanly nature prevented that. Another instance which shows that the concept of a girl transforming into a swan was also known in Ireland, is found in the Irish tale Aislinge Óengusso (‘The dream of Óengus’). Óengus falls in love with a girl, Cáer Ibormeith, the daughter of the king of Síd Úamuin, who takes the shape of a swan one year and the shape of a girl every day of the following year. The fact that she is the daughter of the king of a síd might associate her with the Otherworld, which suggests that the ability to take the shape of a swan is connected to the Otherworld.

The washing of armour with blood in Irish and Old-Norse material.
Gísla saga Súrssonar (‘The saga about Gísli Sursson’) is part of the Icelandic sagas that were written down around 1200 AD. The events described in the sagas are said to have happened more than 200 years earlier. In the saga two women appear in Gísli’s dreams: a good dream woman and an evil one. The good dream woman gives Gísli advice and protects him, while the evil woman appears to remind him of the terrible way he will die. The bad dream woman often appears in Gísli’s dream and the nature of these dreams make him realise that he will not have a long life. One time she emerges dripping with blood; she wants to smear it on him and wash him with it. He recognizes that she is an omen of bad luck in battle and his death. In a later dream she tells him that she will reverse everything the good dream woman promised him. She then washes his hair with blood from his wounds and puts a bloody cap on his head; her hands are again dripping with his blood.

The washing of armour with blood is not only present in Old-Norse stories, in Irish stories war-goddesses also sometimes appear washing the armour of a warrior with blood. This is a clear omen of death. An example is found in Bruidne Da Choca where Cormac and his retinue see a red woman on the edge of a ford washing a chariot. When she lowered her hands into the water, the water became red with blood. Cormac is repulsed by this sight and tells one of his men to go ask the woman what she is doing. The woman answers with a prophecy while standing on one foot and with one eye closed, telling them that she is washing the harness of a king that will perish. The messenger tells Cormac about this prophecy made by Badb, and Cormac then approaches her and asks whose harness she is washing. Badb answers that it is his own harness and the harnesses of his company.

In one version of Aided Con Culainn, ‘The death of Cú Chulainn’, called Brislech Mór Maige Murthemni (‘The great defeat on the plain of Muirthemne’) Cú Chulainn meets two beautiful young women washing a piece of clothing covered with blood while lamenting. In that same version Cú Chulainn’s mother tries to give him milk three times, and every time the milk turns into blood which also is a warning that his death is near.

In Reicne Fothaid Canainne (‘The poem of Fothad Canainne’) we get a vivid description of how Morrígan is perceived. It also mentions the washing of spoils:  “There are around us here and there many spoils whose luck is famous; horrible are the huge entrails which the Morrígan washes. She has come to us from the edge of a pillar (?), ‘t is she who has egged us on; many are the spoils she washes, horrible the hateful laugh she laughs. She has flung her mane over her back, a stout heart… (?) that hates her; though it is near us here where she is, let not fear attack thy shapes.” Mórrígan is presented here as a daunting woman encouraging slaughter and delighting in it. She is seen in a negative light, a frightening omen of death.

Irish and Old-Norse battle spirits and fate.
Valkyrjur could influence fate to a certain extent. Proof of this might be found in Völundarkviða. This lay starts with a prose section which describes the encounter with the valkyrjur. In the following poem this encounter is summarized and the poem continues describing what happens after the girls flew away. In the first verse of the poem the girls are said to be: alvítur ungar / ørlög drýgja, ‘young beings who determine people’s fate’. It should be noted that the Old-Norse word ørlög means “destiny”, “fate”, “death” and “battle”. Drýgja means “to be engaged in”, “to occupy oneself with”. Destiny is given as the first translation for ørlög in the dictionary, so it is probably the primary meaning. The other meanings are also remarkable in the valkyrjur-context. The word ørlög combines the primary function of the valkyrjur; battle, with the primary function of the nornir, who mainly occupied themselves with determining people’s fate. This word, then, also connects these beings to each other, and shows that their functions were interwoven. This connection becomes even clearer when Snorre Sturluson mentions Skuld, the youngest of the nornir, as one of the valkyrjur in his Edda.

In a poem from Njáls saga (‘The saga of Njál’) called Darraðarljóð (‘Dorrud’s Lay’) a gruesome picture of the valkyrjur is presented. A man sees women, who call themselves valkyrjur, weaving human guts. They use human heads as the weights, a sword for the beater and an arrow for the shuttle while singing a poem. This poem explains that the weaving is a warning for the slaughter that will follow. The women say that they will follow the king into battle; they are after all valkyrjur and will choose the warriors that will fall. The poem further predicts the defeat of the Irish men:  “Bad times are coming for the Irishmen, never erased from memory. The web is woven and the battlefield is bloodred. Terrible tidings will travel far.” They also say that the sky is reddened from the blood that was spilled. At the end of the poem the women declare that: “Humming we ride on horses without saddles, with unsheathed swords fast away from here.” The fact that the woman are weaving with human guts possibly connects them to the nornir and thus to fate, the nornir are, after all, said to weave a person’s fate.

In the Irish stories we encounter battle spirits who try to warn against slaughter. The battle they warn against occurs despite the warning. In TBC we find that a battle spirit plays a massive role: Morrígan in fact causes the cattle raid. By her acts she ensures that the cattle raid will occur. Morrígan is also able to guarantee victory. In CMT she ensures the victory of the Dagda and his people by sleeping with him. When Cú Chulainn refuses her in TBC she makes clear that bad luck will come his way.

Battle spirits associated with fertility and the earth
In Cath Maige Tuired we read about the union of Morrígan and the Dagda in §84. He meets her while she is washing and they sleep together. Dagda meets Morrígan at the water which again suggests that she was more than just a battle goddess. This associates her with fertility and the land and also with water. In TBC we see that Morrígan threatens to attack Cú Chulainn when he is fighting in the waters of the ford. Cú Chulainn however ends up severely wounding her. Carey says: There are, then, many stories in which sexually active or demanding women, associated or identified with the waters of rivers or the sea pose a threat to men in general and to the heroic warrior in particular. But it would be an oversimplification simply to equate water with ‘the feminine’, and to oppose it to the world of men. In the case of CMT, however, the Dagda benefits from the encounter with Morrígan. By sleeping with Dagda, Morrígan ensures his victory in battle. This becomes clear in the next paragraph where Morrígan tells the Dagda where the Fomoire were going to land: at Mag Céidne. She advises him to summon the áes dána of Ireland to meet her at the ford of the Unshin and she promises him that she will destroy the king of the Fomoire: And she would go into Scétne to destroy Indech mac Dé Domnann, the king of the Fomoire, and would take from him the blood of his heart and the kidneys of his valor. Later she gave two handfuls of that blood to the hosts that were waitingat the Ford of the Unshin. This makes clear that Indech mac Dé Domnann is doomed. Morrígan has chosen his death and has sealed his fate by presenting two handfuls of his blood to the hosts. Blood is often used as an omen for death and battle in both the Celtic and Old-Norse literature.

Carey notes a Norse parallel to this episode, in this tale the woman is set in a purely negative light. The giantess Gjálp is standing upstream with one foot on each of the river Vimur’s banks causing a flood. This flood almost overwhelms Thor when he's trying to cross. He brings the water under control again by throwing a stone at Gjálp and remarks that a river must be stopped at its source.

The prophecies Morrígan makes at the end of CMT also show her connection to the prosperity and fertility of the land. The most notable mention of Morrígan in the dindshenchas (‘History of Placenames’) also shows a strong connection to fertility. She appears in the poem about Odras, a tale about the wife of Buchet, the hospitaller. Morrígan is called ba samla día sóach, “the shape-shifting goddess was a phantom (?)” as it is translated in DIL. Edward Gwynn translates the sentence as follows “In this wise came the shape-shifting goddess”. She is further described as Tuc léi tarb in tnúthach, / in rígan garb gnáthach “The envious queen fierce of mood, the cunning raven caller”, and as in Mórrígan mórda, / ba slog-dírmach sámda “the mighty Morrígan, whose pleasure was in murdered hosts”. Morrígan steals a bull, which then covers a cow. She brings the bull to Cruachan, where this bull will later be the cause of TBC. Odras follows her, but is overcome by sleep. Morrígan then comes to her and chants powerful spells over her sleeping body turning her into a river. Here Morrígan is depicted as a mighty, frightening sorceress and battle goddess who has the ability to shape-shift and who delights in slaughter. She is strongly associated with cattle, prosperity of the land and with water: she turns Odras into a river. This link to both cattle and the land might again suggest a link with fertility. In Táin Bó Cúailnge Morrígan is also often associated with cattle. She actually causes the cattle raid and during the cattle raid she often appears next to cattle and once she even transforms herself into a cow. Máire Herbert states that Morrígan’s activities have a tutelary character: “She oversees the land, its stock and its society. Her shape-shifting is an expression of her affinity with the whole living universe of creatures, bird, animal and human.”

In the Old-Norse literature the fertility goddess Freyja is also a goddess of death. She and Odin divide the warriors chosen by the valkyrjur and take them to their halls, as is told in Grímnismál.  Freyja could therefore be seen as a chiefvalkyrja. She also has the ability to see in the future and is able to perform (evil) magic, just like Morrígan. To exemplify this twofold nature of Freyja, Máire Bhreathnach mentions that one of the early kings of Sweden is said to have been crushed by a seidkona (a witchwoman) who took the form of a mare. Perhaps this story is about king Vanlande, one of the first kings of Uppsala. This king was, according to Snorre Sturluson’s Ynglinga saga as told in Heimskringla, killed by a mara. He had promised to return to a Finnish girl, but after he failed to do so for ten years, the girl calls in the help of a seidkona who then conjures the mara to kill him.

The valkyrjur might also have a connection to the land since they were often seen at the side of a lake. They could also shape-shift and mainly took the form of a swan.

Irish and Old-Norse battle spirits as protective goddesses
Morrígan often seems to guide and protect Cú Chulainn during his life. In other stories she mainly appears as a war goddess, in Táin Bó Cúailnge, Táin Bó Regamna, and Aided Conculainn, however, she fulfils a more important role in addition to appearing as ‘just’ a battle spirit. Her role in TBC becomes more important as she is associated with the hero of TBC, Cú Chulainn, and crosses his path on several occasions. In ‘The Fight between Éogan mac Durthacht and Conchobar’, Cú Chulainn is searching for Conchobar. On a battle field he notices a man carrying half of another man on his back. The man asks if Cú Chulainn wants to help him carry his brother. Cú Chulainn refuses whereupon the man throws his burden to Cú Chulainn. They start to fight and Cú Chulainn is thrown down. Then the voice of the war goddess (in mboidb) is heard from among the corpses: “It’s a poor sort of warrior that lies down at the feet of a ghost!”After hearing this, Cú Chulainn immediately rises and decapitates his opponent. In this episode the consequence of the presence of the badb/bodb, again translated as war goddess, is different from the situations discussed earlier; here Cú Chulainn regains strength from her words and he can now defeat his opponent.

The presence of the war goddess is stimulating and revitalising. It seems reasonable to identify Badb with Morrígan since Morrígan appears throughout the Ulster Cycle as Cú Chulainn’s special protective goddess. After Morrígan’s assumed presence in `The fight between Éogan mac Durthacht and Conchobar’, where she helps him, her role becomes more ambiguous when Morrígan and Cú Chulainn have a talk in ‘The conversation of the Morrígan with Cú Chulainn’. She comes in the shape of an extraordinarily beautiful young woman to him, dressed in colourful clothing, bringing along her treasures and cattle. She introduces herself as the daughter of king Búan and tells Cú Chulainn that she fell in love with him after hearing of his fame. Cú Chulainn declines her advances, upon which Morrígan starts to utter threats. Her love and will to protect him rapidly turn into a desire for revenge: during crucial moments in battle she will emerge to hinder him in the form of an eel, a grey she-wolf and a hornless red heifer. Cú Chulainn is not impressed by her threats and is sure that he will win this fight. He does not want her protection. Morrígan’s role in this tale shows a parallel with her role in Cath Maige Tuired, where she offers her love and protection in war to the Dagda. He accepts her offer, while Cú Chulainn refuses. In the Old-Norse texts we often read of valkyrjur offering their love and protection to a specific hero. In Völsunga saga, it is impossible for the valkyrja Brynhild to get the man she wants and here her love turns into hate and will lead to the death of the hero she had chosen to become her husband.

The threats from Morrígan and Cú Chulainn’s reaction are also present in Táin Bó RegamnaTBR is one of the fore-tales, or remscéla, of TBC. It might even be the most important remscéla from the Táin.This story tells us what caused the Táin.  In TBR Cú Chulainn and his charioteer Laeg meet a strange company. They see a one legged red horse in front of a red chariot. The pole of the chariot went straight through the horse. On the chariot they saw a red woman with red eyebrows wearing a red cloak. When asked for her name she gives an absurd long list, which infuriates Cú Chulainn. She is a satiric poet and received the cow in exchange for a poem. Cú Chulainn asks her to recite the poem. When the poem is finished, a furious Cú Chulainn wants to take another leap into the chariot, but the chariot, together with the woman, man and cow have suddenly disappeared. He then notices a black bird on a branch near him. That is when he recognizes her as Morrígan. He tells her that she is an evil woman, and that if he had known that he was dealing with her, he would have acted differently. Morrígan says that it does not matter, since it would lead to bad luck in any case. Cú Chulainn then argues that Morrígan does not have the ability to cause him bad luck. She disagrees and tells him: "Yes, I certainly can," said the woman. "To seal your death, I am with you and I will be with you," she said. As it turns out she cannot actually cause his death since Cú Chulainn’s bravery defies fate. In this story Morrígan shows in many different ways that she is a supernatural being. She can shape-shift: she changes into a black bird. Besides being able to see the future and possibly influence fate, Morrígan also has a prophetic gift: she tells him that because of what she did here, the cattle raid of Cúailnge will take place. Cú Chulainn points out that the cattle raid will make him even more famous. Morrígan then answers with the same threats as in ‘The conversation of the Mórrígan with Cú Chulainn’: she will attack him in the shape of an eel, a she-wolf and a hornless red heifer. These threats are formulated a bit different in TBR: as a grey she-wolf she will take a bite out of him, in TBC she threatens to rush the cattle upon him. In this version she is more explicit about what she will do to him as a red hornless heifer. In TBC she says: “’I shall come to you in the guise of a hornless red heifer in front of the cattle and they will rush upon you at many fords and pools yet you will not see me in front of you.’” In TBR she says that she will be a white cow with red ears and she will go into the water of the ford followed by a hundred of other white red-eared cows. The whole herd will storm in the ford and she says that Cú Chulainn will be decapitated there. The threats Cú Chulainn utters in response are the same in both accounts. Only at the end of the tale the woman’s identity is revealed. Her identity is not revealed in the text of TBC, only the title shows that we are indeed dealing with Morrígan. In TBR we get a detailed description of the appearance of Morrígan. The colour red is dominant here. The creatures and the colour red (might) refer to the Otherworldliness of Morrígan: “The wolf was greyish-red, the colour of the Cwn Annwn, the hounds of the Welsh Otherworld; the heifer was white and red-eared, and again this combination belongs to the supernatural realms, both in Wales and Ireland.” .Wolves are also closely connected to the supernatural.

In ‘The death of Lóch Mac Mo Femis’ in TBC Morrígan and Cú Chulainn perform the threats they expressed in ‘The conversation of the Morrígan with Cú Chulainn’. In this episode we also find a reference to TBR: “Then it was that Cú Chulainn did against the Mórrígan the three things that he had threatened her with in the Táin Bó Regamna.” Another version of this episode is found in the Book of Leinster. Here Morrígan does the same things to Cú Chulainn but it is remarkable that in this variant Morrígan, in the shape of a white red-eared heifer, is accompanied by fifty other heifers, each pair linked together with a chain of white bronze. These chains are also often mentioned in connection to birds. Morrígan shows characteristics of the mara in this fragment. Her evil thoughts towards Cú Chulainn take the physical form of an eel, a she-wolf and a hornless red heifer, just like the mara is the result of evil desires directed to a specific person. When Morrígan comes to Cú Chulainn to heal her wounds, it becomes clear that the wounds Cú Chulainn inflicted upon her affect all her guises. She does not show all the features of a mara however; the mara often caused anxiety and a loss of breath since she was said to strangle her victim. The mara was a metaphor for a person’s own fears and the malevolent desires of others. Therefore the shape in which the mara appeared is varied and personal and often depends on the situation. When a mara appears in human form, she often appears as either a beautiful, inviting young woman or an old ugly hag; these are also guises Morrígan often appears in. She appears as a young woman in ‘The conversation of Morrígan and Cú Chulainn’, and she takes the guise of an old half blind woman milking a cow in ‘The healing of the Mórrígan’. Cú Chulainn fails to recognize her and heals her in exchange for some milk. After she is healed Morrígan reveals her true identity to him.

In Aided Con Culainn Morrígan tries to prevent Cú Chulainn from going to what will be his final battle. The second day he finds his chariot broken: “Now, the Morrígan had smashed the chariot the previous night, She did not want Cú Chulainn to go to the battle because she knew he would not return to Emain Macha.” Here we see that even though Morrígan vowed to take revenge after Cú Chulainn refused her, she still tries to protect him. Cú Chulainn, however, never pays any attention to her warnings. His horse Liath Macha also tries to stop him by turning his left side to him three times, Cú Chulainn tries to calm him by saying: “Badb struck us in Emain Macha never.” Then Liath Macha allows him to jump in the chariot. Leborcham, the daughter of two of Conchobor’s slaves, also tries to stop him but her attempts are in vain. After the above mentioned attempts to protect him have failed miserably, various events take place that show that Cú Culainn is indeed riding towards his death. On the way to the battlefield Cú Chulainn stumbles upon “three hags of sorcery”, they are cooking a dog. Cú Chulainn is faced with a dilemma: it is geis for him to refuse food, but it is also geis to eat the meat of his namesake. The old women insult him by saying that their cooking place must be below his standards and say: “One who cannot accept or endure little things is not capable of great things.” This makes Cú Chulainn decide to take some of the dog meat anyway, making his death inevitable: violating a geis always leads to misfortune, and often death. He then visits his mother who three times offers him milk that turns into blood, when he leaves his mother’s house and follows his way, he sees two lamenting girls washing a piece of cloth covered with his blood. These are all signs indicating that his death is near.

Cú Chulainn arrives at the plain of Muirthemne and the battle begins. He dies after a long fight. After his death a raven lands on his shoulder just before he is decapitated. This raven (might be) is Morrígan. If the raven is indeed Morrígan, it can be linked to the remark Morrígan made to Cú Chulainn in Táin Bó Regamna; she told him that she was the sealer or guardian of his death, depending on the translation. Her assumed appearance here again emphasizes the special relationship between Morrígan and Cú Chulainn. In this tale Morrígan tries in vain to reverse her own prediction. She warns him by breaking his chariot, but cannot prevent that Cú Chulainn is riding towards his death. Here we also see that Morrígan is inconsistent. After Cú Chulainn refused her in ‘The conversation of the Morrígan with Cú Chulainn’, she does anything within her power to take revenge but now, when his end is near, she tries to prevent him from dying.

Despite showing similarities with the mara in these tales, Morrígan also shows, in my opinion, many characteristics of the female fylgja. She watches over Cú Chulainn just the way the fylgja does, and the advice she gives also leads to Cú Chulainn’s downfall. There is a striking difference, however. When Morrígan turns against Cú Chulainn after he refused her love, this does not lead to Cú Chulainn’s death, the way it would if Morrígan was a fylgja. On the contrary; Cú Chulainn outsmarts her and ends up severely wounding her. Morrígan also tries to prevent his death; this is not something a fylgja could do.

Morrígan’s role also shows similarities with the valkyrja Brynhild’s role. Just like Morrígan guides Cú Chulainn throughout his life, albeit sometimes in an ambiguous way, valkyrjur also often choose a specific hero to protect. As an example see the role Brynhild plays in Sígrdrífumál and Völsunga Saga.

Sígrdrífumál
In the Eddic poem Sígrdrífumál, a valkyrja plays a similar role to the role Morrígan has in relation to Cú Chulainn. Sigurd meets the valkyrja Sígrdrífa who is lying asleep in full armour. He wakes her up and she wants to tell him her story. To strengthen his memory she gives him a drinking horn filled with mead. After invoking the gods and goddesses to regain her magical powers she tells him that she fought in a battle between two kings: Gunnar with the helmet and Agnar. Odin had granted Gunnar victory in this battle and Sígrdrífa was supposed to protect him, but she took matters into her own hands and killed Gunnar. Odin punished her by stinging her with a sleeping thorn and before dooming her to marriage he told her that she would never grant anyone victory anymore. Sígrdrífa then swore to never marry a man who knows fear. After telling her story she shares the wisdom of the runes with Sigurd and gives him advice. Sigurd then promises to marry her and they make an oath to be forever faithful to each other.  The story of Sígrdrífa and Sigurd continues in Völsunga saga, where Sígrdrífa is called Brynhild. Sígrdrífa closely resembles Morrígan: both women are associated with magic, battle and the supernatural and both women declare their love to a specific hero and try to protect and advise him. It is remarkable that in both cultures important female beings closely connected to battle and death declare their love to a specific hero and offer him protection from dying.

Völsunga saga
There are two versions of Völsunga saga, one of which is found in the poetic Edda. The oldest manuscript (Codex Regius) of this version dates from ca. 1270, the date of the original compilation is uncertain, probably between the second half of the twelfth century and not after ca. 1250. The second version is much more elaborate and the oldest manuscript dates from 1400. This version was compiled not later than in 1260-1270. In the fragments of Völsunga saga that are found in the poetic Edda, Sigurd and Brynhild (the same person as Sígrdrífa) meet again. As a valkyrja in Sígrdrífumál Brynhild gives advice and tries to protect Sigurd, the hero she chose to become her husband. When it becomes clear in Völsunga Saga that she will have to marry Gunnar, and that Sigurd has been tricked into marrying Gudrun, her protective love for Sigurd soon turns into a destructive kind of love: if she cannot have him, she will rather see him dead. Brynhild can see the future and has precognitive dreams. She is connected to the supernatural just like Morrígan is. She shows that she is not afraid to participate in battle. All the predictions she makes come true which shows that she cannot alter fate after she has seen it. On the battlefield, as a valkyrja, she does have the power to choose who will live and who is going to Valhöll with her, but now she seems to accept destiny as something that is already decided (probably because of earlier decisions and events) and beyond her influence. Instead of desperately trying to change her fate and the fate of others, she chooses to sink into a depression. Not much is left of the strong, proud woman of the beginning of the saga. She eventually commits suicide. Her role goes beyond the role of the valkyrjur that only appear in battle, she is also given a human side. This happens more in the heroic tales: the valkyrjur in these tales are women with feelings, those present in the poems have less depth.

Brynhild’s role resembles the role Morrígan plays in TBC. In Sígrdrífumál she offers her protection to Sigurd if he is going to marry her, just like Morrígan does with Cú Chulainn. Her love turns just as quickly into hate when it becomes clear that Sigurd cannot marry her. She does not actively try to hurt him, but her will to protect him has completely vanished. She is, however, still responsible for his death. Brynhild’s actions, just like Morrígan’s, also have devastating consequences: the deceit that keeps Brynhild and Sigurd separated, ultimately leads to the downfall of the Niflungar, the race of heroes. In both the Irish and Old-Norse culture the rejection of a woman by a hero or king has fatal consequences. The mysterious woman often associated with a hero’s death, is the woman who married the hero and helps to seal his fate. “There the king’sdeath is often associated with an ill-advised marriage, sometimes to a witch.”

Conclusion
As seen in the chapters above, the Irish and Old-Norse cultures show many similarities. The Old-Norse literature seems to have a more diverse range of beings with different functions connected to battle, while the individuals present in the Irish literature unite many of these functions into a single being. Morrígan for example has the aspect of protection and appearing as an omen of death that the fylgja has in the Old-Norse literature, she also shows the rage and has the frightening quality of the mara, and the way she delights in slaughter and battle and chooses one specific hero to love and protect, shows similarities with the valkyrja.

I also found that specific motifs are presented in a similar way in both the Irish and the Old-Norse culture. In both cultures the blinding of an eye (in the Irish culture the left eye in particular) is seen as a way of gaining otherwise hidden knowledge, mostly connected to the supernatural.

Prophecies of the end of the world, found in both cultures, also show striking similarities; both mention a deterioration of the values of society as the start of the end of the world. The washing of armour or body parts with blood is in both cultures present as a clear omen of death and beings connected to war were in addition associated with birds of prey.

In both cultures we find an occurrence of (supernatural) girls transforming into swans. In my opinion we cannot show with any certainty which culture influenced the other, the stories in which these motifs occur are from different periods, and even in stories written down before the Old-Norse invasions girls transforming into swans already occur.

Battle spirits are in both cultures not only connected to slaughter and battle, they also had a strong affinity with the earth and fertility. Morrígan for example is strongly associated with cattle and she sleeps with the Dagda to ensure his victory in battle, which will benefit society. It is also striking that in both cultures these battle spirits are strongly associated with fate. Their actions have devastating consequences and both the Old-Norse and the Irish battle spirits have the power to choose who is going to die. They cannot always alter fate; in some situations their powers are limited. Morrígan, for example, is unable to change Cú Chulainn’s fate, and Brynhild’s influence on Sigurd and his actions is also limited.

The valkyrjur in the Old-Norse poems are presented as frightening beings, riding on horses and taking part in battle. In the later heroic texts these beings obtain a bigger role. There they often choose one particular warrior to become their husband and they then see it as their task to protect him. When the marriage does not turn out the way they planned or when they do not agree with their husband’s decisions, they become responsible for the hero’s downfall. In this aspect the valkyrja can be compared to the relationship Morrígan has towards Cú Chulainn. She is protective of him and gives him advice, but when he rejects her, she does everything within her power to hurt him. Her treacherous nature is also revealed when she tricks Cú Chulainn into healing her. When Cú Chulainn is riding towards his final battle, her protective side takes over again, and Morrígan tries in vain to prevent him from riding towards his death. The valkyrjur, however, are usually not as ambiguous as Morrígan is. Morrígan still tries to influence fate when Cú Chulainn is doomed to die and presumably even lands on his death body in the shape of a crow. The valkyrjur tend to accept that their former lover is doomed and do not try to change fate, usually they become passive and sometimes even depressed.

The similarities between both cultures, as summarized above, are striking. The question
remains how to explain these similarities? No final conclusion can be given. It would be easiest
to connect them to the Viking invasions in Ireland around the eighth century AC, but older texts already show motifs present in both the Old-Norse and the Celtic culture. Perhaps then the answer can be found in a common Indo-European heritage?

Abbreviations
ACC Aided Con Culainn, in: Hull, E. (London, 1898): The Cuchullin saga in Irish literature.
BDC Bruide Da Choca, Stokes, W. (1900): “Da Choca’s hostel” in: Revue Celtique 21, 149-165, 312-327, 388-402.
CMT Cath Maige Tuired, the second battle of Mag Tuired, Gray, E. (Kildare, 1982).
CMTC Cath Maige Tuired Cunga, “The first battle of Moytura”, Fraser, J. (1916) in: Ériu 8, 1-63,.
DIL Dictionary of the Irish Language, Quin, E. (Dublin, 1983) compact edition.
LG Leabhar Gabhála, The book of Conquests of Ireland, MacAlister, R. (Dublin, 1916).
s.v. sub voce (= under the head-word).
TBC 1 Táin Bó Cúailnge Recension 1, O’Rahilly, C. (Dublin, 1976).
TBC LL Táin Bó Cúailnge from the Book of Leinster, O’Rahilly, C. (Dublin, 1970).
TBDD Togail Bruidne Da Derga in Koch, J. T. (Aberystwyth, 1994): The Celtic heroic age. 4th edition 2003, 166-184.
TBR Táin Bó Regamna, Corthals, J. (Wien, 1987): Táin Bó Regamna. Eine Vorerzählung zur Táin Bó Cúailnge.

The full article with footnotes and bibliography by C. Franken was published at: