Essentially there occur five categories of sorcery in the sources, besides seiðr itself. Three of them were also named complexes of ritual and technique – though apparently in a looser sense than seiðr – while the others are modern constructions which derive from an analysis of the texts:
•galdr
•gandr
•útiseta
•a group of un-named rituals connected through the abilities of the god Óðinn, here termed ‘Óðinnic sorcery’
•a general ‘background noise’ of popular magic, often unsophisticated or indeed completely unarticulated in a practical way, occurring throughout the literature
The most distinctive of these five is undoubtedly galdr, which seems to have been a specific form of sorcery focusing on a characteristic type of high-pitched singing. The word has a relative today in the modern Swedish verb gala, used for the crowing of a rooster and for the most piercing of birdcalls (see Raudvere 2001: 90–7 and 2002 on the importance of verbalising this kind of sorcery). The saga descriptions of galdr-songs note that they were pleasing to the ear, and there is a suggestion of a special rhythm in view of the incantation metre called galdralag, as described by Snorri in Háttatal (101–2) and used occasionally in Eddic poems such as Hávamál and Sigrdrífomál.
One of the first major studies of the form was made by Ivar Lindquist (1923), but he applied the term very liberally to a broad range of charms from the whole of the Iron Age. Reichborn-Kjennerud (1928: 71, 76, 81) argued that galdr was employed most often for cursing, with an emphasis on the destructive power of the tongue – he cites examples of its use to induce sicknesses of various kinds in both humans and animals, and also to kill. He claims a close connection between galdr and runic lore (ibid: 81). However, galdr in fact occurs in a variety of contexts as we shall see in the coming chapters, and it seems that its status as a distinct form of magic was probably beginning to blur by the end of the Viking period.
It performed many, if not all, of the same functions as seiðr, and in a great many instances the two are used in combination (the term seiðgaldr even occurs in a fourteenth-century source that we shall examine below). Despite this, in every case it is seiðr which sets the pattern for the ritual as a whole. Galdr can be seen rather as a particular element in a larger complex of operative magical practice, one option in the toolkit of ritual. By the Middle Ages proper, the term had become synonymous with magic in general.
Gandr forms yet another distinct category here, with origins that go back much earlier than the Viking Age. The basic sense of the word is often argued to mean simply ‘magic’, and de Vries has suggested that it can be related to the concept of Ginnungagap (1931a; his interpretation is discussed in chapter 3). This is important, as it suggests gandr to be one of the primal forces from which the worlds were formed, and thus implies that this form of sorcerous power was of considerable dignity. That this type of sorcery also had an early history is shown by tantalising references from Classical writers, for example the name Ganna attributed by Dio Cassius in his Roman History (67: 5) to the prophetess of the North German Semnones, and which is also from the same root (de Vries 1957: §229; see also Closs 1936).
By the Viking Age, and as with galdr, we find combinations of ritual forms. In several instances there are references to sorceresses using gandr in conjunction with seiðr in order to prophesy, for example in Voluspá (22, 29). The term also had a special application in the sense of both spirit beings and the staff that may have been used to summon them; these are discussed in chapter 3.
Another aspect of Norse sorcery was the practice of útiseta, ‘sitting out’, which does not seem to have been a specific ritual so much as a technique to put other rituals into effect. Clearly related to Óðinnic communications with the dead, in brief it seems to have involved sitting outside at night, in special places such as burial mounds, by running water or beneath the bodies of the hanged, in order to receive spiritual power. It is considered in greater depth in chapter 3.
The rituals performed by Óðinn form a category in their own right, beyond the specific complexes of seiðr and galdr, both of which the god employs. Several of them are also available to human sorcerers, but the Eddic poems make it clear that others are not, and are among the powers purchased on the god’s many quests for magical knowledge. These skills are recorded in the list of spells in poems such as Hávamál, in the catalogues of runes of power, and in the narratives of sagas. Again, they are reviewed in the following chapters.
Besides the magic used by Óðinn, we also find the fifth category of ‘general’ sorcery. One aspect of this has a vocabulary of terms that appear to mean simply ‘magic’ in the same vague sense as we use the word today. The most common of these was fjolkyngi, which seems to have been especially well-used. In the Old Norse sources we also find fróðleikr, and slightly later, trolldómr (cf. Raudvere 2001: 88ff). The latter concept became increasingly common through the Middle Ages, and together with galdr it continued as one of the generic words for ‘witchcraft’ long into post-medieval times (see Hastrup 1987: 331–6 for Icelandic terminologies of magic during this period).
There were also other terms which were used as collectives. These include gerningar, ljóð and taufr – all apparently kinds of chant or charm – and the complexities of runic lore as set out in Eddic poems such as Sigrdrífomál and Rígsþula. Another group of terms refers to various forms of unspecified magical knowledge, and include affixes implying this on the part of people or supernatural beings. Thus we find vísenda-, kúnatta- and similar words used for ‘those who know’, a relatively common perception of sorcerous power that occurs in many cultures.
Given these ‘other’ magics, to what extent can we discuss Old Norse sorcery in generic terms, and can we use the terminologies of seiðr for this purpose?
The key lies in the definition of sorcery itself, both in the sense usually employed by historians of religions and also with specific reference to the Viking Age. Even without the conventions of ‘worship’ discussed above, the human relationship to the gods was not an equal one, and inevitably involved a degree of subservience that characterised all the different kinds of cult activity that we have examined. This applies to the notion of blót, ‘sacrifice’, in particular. In the world of sorcery this was not the case, a state of affairs that hinges on the idea of control. Magic seems to have been used by human beings as a means of actively steering the actions of supernatural beings for their own ends, first attracting or summoning them, and then binding them to do the sorcerer’s will (cf. Ström 1961b: 221f).
In one form or another this concept is common to all the different magics reviewed above, but only in one of them is it made explicit – in seiðr. This ‘binding’ sorcery is also the only one conceived as a complete type of magic in the original sources, and the only form of it that combines elements of the others into a greater whole. As we have seen, although both galdr and gandr are also categorised in the written sources, the former was more of a technique while the latter seems to have referred mainly to a general kind of sorcerous energy from which all power was drawn. Again, when each (or both) of these are performed in conjunction with seiðr, there is never any doubt that the latter is the primary, formative element in the ritual.
In this specific sense, there are therefore grounds for discussing seiðr as a generic for Old Norse sorcery. However, this is also warranted by the general vagueness of the descriptions of Viking magic, this lack of consistent orthodoxy which as we have seen was an integral part of the Norse attitude to the spiritual. Again and again in the sources, and in the terminologies of sorcerers that we will examine in the next chapter, we seem to find seiðr used simultaneously as a precise term and also as a generalisation for ‘sorcery’ in our modern sense of the word. In using seiðr as a primary category, in a manner that implicitly includes the other magics, we would therefore seem to be following the fashion in which the Norse themselves understood the concept.
We can now review the written sources on which our knowledge of seiðr is based.
By the late thirteenth and fourteenth centuries when many of the heroic sagas and fornaldarsögur were composed, seiðr had become incorporated into the general stock of fantastic magical phenomena with which medieval authors entertained their readers. However, there is no doubt that at least in Iceland, and very probably in Norway and the rest of Scandinavia too, at least some details of its Viking-Age reality were remembered. Not least, these included the breadth of seiðr’s applications and functions, and its capacity to produce positive and negative effects. The prologue to Gongu-Hrólfs saga, one of the most outlandish of the medieval ‘Viking’ romances, gives us a brief glimpse of how seiðr was perceived in the High Middle Ages:
Er þat ok margra heimskra manna náttúra, at þeir trúa því einu, er þeir sjá sínum augum eða heyra sínum eyrum, er þeim þykkir fjarlægt sinni náttúru, svá sem orðit hefir um vitra mannaráðagerðir eða mikit afl eða frábæran léttleika fyrirmanna, svá ok eigi síðr um konstir eða huklaraskap ok mikla fjolkyngi, þá þeir seiddu at sumum monnum ævinliga ógæfu eða aldrtila, en sumum veraldar virðing, fjár ok metnaðar. Þeir æstu stundum hofuðskepnur, en stundum kyrrðu, svá sem var Óðinn eða aðrir þeir, er af honum námu galdrlistir eða lækningar.
Moreover there are plenty of people so foolish that they believe nothing but what they have seen with their own eyes or heard with their own ears – never anything unfamiliar to them, such as the counsels of the wise, or the strength and amazing skills of the great heroes, or the way in which seiðr, skills of the mind [huklaraskap] and powerful sorcery [fjolkyngi] may seið* death or a lifetime of misery for some, or bestow worldly honours, riches and rank on others. These [men] would sometimes stir up the elements, and sometimes calm them down, just like Óðinn and all those who learnt from him the skills of galdr and healing.
* seið is here used as a verb – see chapter 3
Gongu-Hrólfs saga prologue translation after Hermann
Pálsson & Edwards 1980: 27, with my amendments
Viewed as a whole, it is true to say that the corpus of Icelandic sagas, skaldic verse and Eddic poetry is saturated with references to sorcery in general, and seiðr in particular. Its practitioners are of both sexes and are given a variety of titles, but the constant prevalence of magic never subsides.
Even taking into account the wavering reliability of the sagas as sources for the Viking Age that they describe, in view of the sheer cumulative volume of references to ‘everyday’ witchcraft it is surprising that so little work has been done on its integration into our models of the Viking world. Philologists have discussed sorcery, certainly, but almost exclusively in terms of medieval literary motifs and narrative structure. They have not tried to relate it to any kind of Viking-Age reality, and understandably so because this is not part of the research agenda for ancient linguistics. Historians of religions have sought patterns of behaviour, and the ‘roots’ of different aspects of cult – especially that of Óðinn – but here again there have been relatively few attempts to build up an image of sorcery as it was perceived at the time. Although there are numerous synthetic treatments of Viking religion, referenced throughout this book, these do not generally present belief in the broader context of society in general (a good exception is Steinsland & Meulengracht Sørensen 1994, but this is deliberately written at a popular level and does not go into depth). Archaeological syntheses, equally common, tend to suffer from the same problem in reverse, reducing religion to a summary of the gods and Eddic myths in so far as they can be linked to material culture. These works have largely tended to ignore magic and witchcraft due to the difficulties of accessing such phenomena through the archaeological record. There are, of course, exceptions to which we shall return below.
We can begin by briefly summarising the textual sources for seiðr. The first comprehensive collection was made by Strömbäck (1935: 17–107; see also the supplementary note by Almqvist 2000: 250–60), which includes all the primary texts. Since the first edition of the present work appeared, the complete corpus of Old Norse prose sources relating to sorcery has been published and analysed in meticulous philological detail by Dillmann (2006), with an emphasis on the family sagas, Íslendingabók and Landnámabók, but also with digressions through the legendary sagas. The second volume of Tolley’s 2009a work on Norse shamanism also assembles an impressive list of source material that goes beyond the purely Icelandic emphasis of Dillmann’s work, and can be profitably consulted to broaden the textual background. Both Dillmann and Tolley have here done an immense service to scholarship, and the wider aspects of their books are discussed further in chapter 8.
The most important textual excerpts are quoted in full here, while a selection of others are merely referenced; these are taken up in detail in this and subsequent chapters.
The corpus of skaldic poetry contains two direct references to seiðr, and a number of kennings that play upon it. The earliest dated reference occurs in a lausavísa of Vitgeirr seiðmaðr, significantly a sorcerer himself. It was probably composed around 900 and is contained in chapter 35 of Snorri’s Haralds saga ins hárfagra. It is quoted in full in chapter 3, in the section on male practitioners of magic.
Seiðr is also mentioned in strophe 3 of the skaldic praise-poem Sigurðardrápa, composed by Kormákr Ogmundarson around 960. The poet alludes to Óðinn’s rape of Rindr, achieved by means of disguising himself through sorcery, with the words: seið Yggr til Rindar, ‘Yggr [i.e. Óðinn] got Rindr with seiðr’.
Two verses from the thirteenth-century Friðþjófs saga hins frækna, attributed to Fríðþjof himself, mention rituals that are described as seiðr in the accompanying prose, but cannot be taken as direct early evidence for it (in Skjaldedigtning BII: 295).
The term also appears in four kennings, from three sources. The first is from a lausavísa of Egill Skalla-Grímsson, dated c.924 by Finnur Jónsson:
Upp skulum órum sverðum,
ulfs tannlituðr, glitra,
eigum doð at drýgja,
í dalmiskunn fiska;
leiti upp til Lundar
lýða hverr sem bráðast,
gerum þar fyr sjot sólar
seið ófagran vigra.
We shall, painter of the wolf’s tooth [warrior], make our swords glitter in the air. We have to perform our deeds in the mild season of the valley-fish [snakes > summer]. Let everyone go as quickly as possible up to Lund. Let us make the harsh spear-seiðr before sunset.
Egill Skalla-Grímsson lausavísa 6 (Skjaldedigtning BI: 43), translation after Fell 1975: 184
This is a problematic poem, mainly because we know from archaeological data that the town of Lund was definitely not in existence in the early tenth century. There is thus no doubt that the text of Egill’s verse is at least partly corrupt. However, the attribution of the poem to a different battle than that for which it was written, for whatever reason, does not affect the kenning of vigra seiðr, nor its probable location in the original verse.
Two more seiðr-kennings were used by the eleventh-century skald Eiríkr viðsjá, in lausavísur dated to the year 1014. Both occur in battle contexts, and seem to refer to warriors in both instances (logðis seiðr, ‘destruction’s seiðr’ – str. 5; Fjolnis seiðr, ‘Fjolnir’s seiðr’ – str. 6). The fourth kenning, from strophe 12 of Sturla Þórðarson’s Hákonarkviða, dates to the 1260s. Simpler in form, sverða seiðr means ‘sword-seiðr’ and is a clear parallel to Egill’s vigra seiðr of three centuries earlier.
The intended sense in all these examples seems to be of seiðr as a song, depicting the fighting warrior as embodying a sort of hymn to combat or to the patrons of such (a common theme in kennings).
From the corpus of Eddic poetry, we first find references to seiðr in Voluspá (22), with slight variations between the Codex Regius and Hauksbók texts (Strömbäck 1935: 17–21). The original composition of the poem is most often dated to the very late tenth century, though its preservation stems from the early 1200s when the first – now lost – versions of the Codex Regius version seem to have been composed. Our existing texts derive from the late thirteenth century (Dronke 1997: 62f). The text is given here from Dronke’s edition, with a rather free translation by Larrington; its interpretation and alternative, more exact translations are discussed below:
| Heiði hana héto | Bright Heiðr they called her, |
| hvars til húsa kom, | wherever she came to houses, |
| volo vel spá | the seer with pleasing prophecies, |
| – vitti hón ganda. | she charmed them with spells; |
| Seið hón kunni, | she made seiðr whenever she could, |
| seið hón leikin. | with seiðr she played with minds, |
| Æ var hón angan | she was always the favourite |
| illrar brúðar. | of wicked women. |
Voluspá 22; text after Dronke 1997, translation after Larrington 1996: 7
Seiðr appears again in Lokasenna (24), the ritualistic exchange of insults which many scholars believe to be an original composition by a pagan poet of the late Viking Age, or at least a twelfth- or thirteenth-century embellishment of such (Dronke 1997: 355). In one of his series of slanders directed against the gods, an in reply to Óðinn, Lóki makes the following allegation:
| En þik síða kóðo | But you, they said, performed seiðr |
| Sámseyio í, | on Samsø, |
| ok draptu á vétt sem volor. | and tapped on a vétt like the volur. |
| Vitka líki | Like a vitka |
| fórtu verþióð yfir, | you went over the world of men, |
| ok hugða ek þat args aðal. | and that I thought to be argr behaviour. |
Lokasenna 24; text after Dronke 1997, with her translation and my amendments
This introduces several of the key themes in the study of Old Norse sorcery: its context, its practitioners (the volur and the vitkar, amongst others), the ritual itself and its equipment (the vétt), and its social connotations (the idea of argr, or ergi). All these are taken up in detail in chapter 3, where the Lokasenna passage is reviewed.
The third seiðr-reference in the Eddic corpus comes from strophe 33 of Hyndluljóð, as part of what is generally agreed to be an interpolation known as the ‘Shorter Voluspá’ (Voluspá in skamma) which is also quoted in Gylfaginning 5. The passage recounts the genealogical ancestry of sorcerers:
| Ero volor allar | frá Viðólfi, |
| vitkar allir | frá Vilmeiði, |
| en seiðberendr | frá Svarthofða, |
| iotnar allir | frá Ymi komnir. |
All the volur are descended from Viðólfr,
all the vitkar from Vilmeiðr,
and the seiðberendr from Svarthofði,
all the giants come from Ymir.
Text: Neckel & Kuhn 1983; translation after Larrington 1996: 257
The ‘Shorter Voluspá’ is generally agreed to be later than the rest of Hyndluljóð, with datings ranging from the late 1100s (Klingenberg 1974: 9, 36) to a century later (Finnur Jónsson 1920: 206; de Vries 1967: 107ff; the arguments are summarised by Steinsland 1991: 247f, who suggests that the poem is in fact a unified work, including the ‘interpolation’). Here the focus is once again on specific types of practitioner, with the volur and vitkar being joined by the seiðberendi, the ‘seiðr-carrier’ which is discussed in chapter 3.
In the royal sagas of Snorri’s Heimskringla we encounter seiðr on numerous occasions, generally presented in incidental fashion embedded in the narrative. However, in one source it is presented in a more explanatory context, and this is of course the Ynglingasaga. It first appears in chapter 4, when we read of the introduction of sorcery to the Æsir gods by Freyja:
Dóttir Niarðar var Freyja; hon var blótgyðja; hon kendi fyrst með Ásum seið, sem Vonum var títt.
The daughter of Njorðr was Freyja; she was a blótgyðja [‘priestess of sacrifices’]; she was the first to teach seiðr to the Æsir, as it was practiced among the Vanir.
Ynglingasaga 4; my translation
The importance of this gift becomes clear in chapter 7 of the Ynglingasaga, when Snorri declares how it was used by Óðinn, who came to be the supreme master of this form of magic. The reference to seiðr is contained in a longer description of the god’s powers, and this context is important to preserve in its shifts of emphasis and tone, and the distinctions drawn between different categories of sorcery which are here introduced for the first time:
Óðinn skipti Homum, lá þá búkrinn sem sofinn eða dauðr, en hann var þár fugl eða dýr, fiskr eða ormr, ok fór á einni svipstund á fjarlæg lond at sínum erendum eða annarra manna. Þat kunni hann enn at gera með orðum einum at sløkva eld ok kyrra sjá ok snúa vindum, hverja leið er hann vildi, ok hann átti skip þat, er Skíðblaðnir hét, er hann fór á yfir hof stór, en þat mátti vefja saman sem dúk. Óðinn hafði með sér hofuð Mímis, ok sagði þat honum tíðendi ór oðrum heimum, en stundum vakði hann upp dauða menn ór jorðu eða settisk undir hanga; fyrir því var hann kallaðr draugadróttinn eða hangadróttinn. Hann átti hrafna ii, er hann hafði tamit við mál; flugu þeir víða um lond ok sogðu honum morg tíðendi. Af þessum hlutum varð hann stórliga fróðr. Alla þessar íþróttir kendi hann með rúnum ok ljóðum þeim, er galdrar heita; fyrir því eru Æsir kallaðir galdrasmiðir. Óðinn kunni þá íþrótt, svá at mestr máttr fylgði, ok framði sjálfr, er seiðr heitir, en af því mátti hann vita ørlog manna ok óorðna hluti, svá ok at gera monnum bana eða óhamingju eða vanheilendi, svá ok at taka frá monnum vit eða afl ok gefa oðrum. En þessi fjolkyngi, ef framið er, fylgir svá mikil ergi, at eigi þótti karlmonnum skammlaust viðat fara, ok var gyðjunum kend sú íþrótt. Óðinn vissi um alt jarðfé, hvar fólgit var, ok hann kunni þau ljóð, er upp lauksk fyrir honum jorðin ok bjorg ok steinar ok haugarnir, ok batt hann með orðum einum þá, er fyrir bjoggu, ok gekk inn ok tók þar slíkt, er hann vildi. Af þessum kroptum varð hann mjok frægr, óvinir hans óttuðusk hann, en vinir hans treystusk honum ok trúðu á krapt hans ok á sjálfan hann. En hann kendi flestar íþróttir sínar blótgoðunum; váru þeir næst honum um allan fróðleik ok fjolkyngi. Margir aðrir námu þó mikit af, ok hefir þaðan af dreifzk fjolkyngin víða ok haldizk lengi.
Óðinn could change his shape [hamr], when his body would lie there as if asleep or dead, while he himself was a bird or an animal, a fish or a snake, and would travel in an instant to far-off lands on his errands or those of other men. He was also able, using words alone, to extinguish fires and to calm the sea, and to turn the winds wherever he wished. He had a ship called Skíðblaðnir [‘Built From Pieces Of Thin Wood’] with which he sailed over great seas, but which could be folded up like a cloth. Óðinn had with him Mímr’s head, and it told him many tidings from other worlds [heimar]; at times he would wake up dead men out of the ground or sit beneath the hanged; from this he was called Lord of Ghosts or Lord of the Hanged. He had two ravens, which he had endowed with the power of speech; they flew far over the land and told him many tidings. In this way he became very wise. And all these skills he taught with runes and those chants [ljóð] that are called galdrar; because of this the Æsir are called galdrasmíðir [‘galdra-smiths’]. Óðinn knew the skill from which follows the greatest power, and which he performed himself, that which is called seiðr. By means of it he could know the futures of men and that which had not yet happened, and also cause death or misfortune or sickness, as well as take men’s wits or strength from them and give them to others. But this sorcery [fjolkyngi], as is known, brings with it so much ergi that manly men thought it shameful to perform, and so this skill was taught to the priestesses [gyðjur]. Óðinn knew everything about treasures hidden in the earth, where they were concealed, and he knew such chants [ljóð] that would open up for him the earth and mountains and stones and burial mounds, and with words alone he bound those who dwelled there, and went in and took what he wanted. By these powers he became very famous – his enemies feared him, but his friends trusted him, and believed in him and his power. Most of these skills he taught to those in charge of the sacrifices [blótgoði]; they were next to him in all magic knowledge [fróðleikr] and sorcery [fjolkyngi]. But many others learned much of it, and for this reason sorcery [fjolkyngi] was widespread and continued for a long time.
Ynglingasaga 7; my translation
Ynglingasaga 7 is a crucial text for the study of seiðr, as it provides both a wealth of detail and a degree of social orientation for its rituals. We can also speculate that seiðr was originally mentioned in Þjóðólfr ór Hvíni’s Ynglingatal, because the above prose seems to constitute a summary of the stanzas that Snorri does not directly cite (Tolley 1995a: 57). Óðinn’s powers are examined in the next chapter.
Seiðr appears occasionally in the rest of Heimskringla, in a series of incidents that are discussed individually below. Volur and other kinds of sorceresses are mentioned in Ynglingasaga (13f), while seiðmenn and male sorcerers appear in chapter 22 of the same saga, together with Haralds saga ins hárfagra (35) and Óláfs saga Tryggvasonar (62). In Oddr Snorrason’s version of the latter story (27/35), the same idea is repeated, and many of the same traditions are also recounted in the Historia Norvegiae.
By far the greater part of our information on seiðr comes from the corpus of family sagas, and as such must be used with very great caution in any attempt to reconstruct genuine Viking-Age practices from stories written down (if not actually invented) several centuries later. The saga debate has been briefly summarised above, so here we can confine ourselves to an overview of the relevant sources themselves.
Of all the saga accounts that mention seiðr, one takes precedence due to the unparalleled detail of its description and its social context. This is contained in chapter 4 of Eiríks saga rauða, the saga of Eiríkr the Red which is one of our primary sources for the Norse explorations westwards to Greenland and the Atlantic coast of Canada. The text exists in two versions, contained in the Skálholtsbók and the Hauksbók, the former of which was published in a normalised edition by Storm in 1891 (this was the text employed by Strömbäck in 1935: 49–54). Both texts have been published in parallel by S. B. F. Jansson, and been translated a number of times. Given the central nature of the Eiríks saga rauða account, I reproduce it here in full in his edition of the Skálholtsbók text.
The following events take place in the very late tenth century at Herjolfsnes in Greenland, at the farm of Þorkell, the leading man in the district:
99.I þenna tima, uar hallæri mikit a grænlendi [.]
100.haufdu menn feingit litid. þeir sem i vedr ferd haufdu uerit enn sumir eigi aptr komnir.
101.sv kona uar i bygd er. þorbiorg. het. hun. var spa kona. hun. var kaullut litill volve.
102.hun. hafdi aatt ser. niv. systr. ok var hun. ein eptir. aa lifi.
103.þat var hattr. þorbiargar. a vetrvm. at hun for a ueiizlr ok budv menn henni heim. mest þeir er forvitni var a. um forlug sin. eda. at ferdir.
104.ok med þvi at. þorkell var þar mestr bondi þa. þotti til hanns koma. hvenær at vita letta mundi varani. þessv sem yfir stod.
105.þorkell bydr spakonv þangat ok er henni buin god vit taka. sem sidr var til þa er vit þess haattar konu skylldi taka
106.bvit var henni ha sætti ok lagt unndir hægindi. þar skylldi i vera hænsa fidri.
107.enn er. hun. kom vm kuelldit ok se madr er i moti henni uar senndr. þa var. hun suo buin at hun. hafdi yfir sier tygla mauttvl blann. ok var settr steinum. allt i skaut ofan
108.hun. hafdi a. haalsi ser gler taulr. hun hafdi. a haufdi lamb skinz kofra suartann ok vid innan kattar skinn huitt staf hafdi hun. i henndi ok var.a. knappr
109.hann uar buinn messingv. ok settum steinum ofan vm knappinn
110.hun. hafdi vm sik hnioskv linda ok var þar aa skiodu punngr mikill. varduetti hun þar i taufr þau er hun þvrfti til frodleiks at hafva.
111.hun hafdi kalf skinnz sko lodna a. fotum ok i þveingi langa ok sterkliga. latuns knappar. mikler. a enndvnvm.
112.hun hafdi a. haundvm ser katt skinnz glofa. ok uoru hvitir innan ok lodner.
113.Enn er hvn kom inn. þotti avllvm mavnnum skyll at velia henni sæmiligar kvedivr.
114.enn hun tok þui eptir sem henni uoru menn skapfelldir til.
115.Tok. þorkell. bonndi. i haunnd visennda konunni. ok leiddi hann hana til þess sætis. er henni var bvit.
116.þorkell. bad hana renna þar avgum yfir hiord ok hiv. ok hybyli.
117.hun var fa malvg vm allt.
118.bord voru vpp tekin um kvelldit. ok er fra þvi at. segia at spakonvnni var mat bvit.
119.henni var giorr grautr af kidia miolk enn til matar henni uoru buin hiortv ur allz konar kvikenndum. þeim sem þar. var. til.
120.hun hafdi messingar spon. ok hnif tannskeftan tui holkadann af eiri. ok var af brotinn. oddrinn.
121.Enn er bord uoru vpp tekin. gengr. þorkell bonndi firir. þorbiorrgv ok spyrr huersv henni virdizt þar hybyli. eda. hættir manna. eda. hersv fliotliga hann mun þess vis uerda er hann hefvir spurt eptir ok menn uilldv vita.
122.hun kvezt þat ecki mundv vpp bera fyrr enn vm morgvninn þa er hun hefdi sofot þar vm nottina.
123.Enn eptir a alidnvm degi var henni uettir sa vm bvningr. sem hun skylldi sein fremia.
124.bad hun fa sier konr þær. sem kynni frædi. þat er þyrfti til seidinnar fremia ok uardlokr heita. enn þær knor funnduzt eigi
125.þa uar at leitad um bæinn. ef nauckr kynni.
126.þa. svarar. Gvdridr. huerki er ek fiolkvnnig ne visennda kona. enn þo kenndi halldis fostra min. mer a. islanndi. þat frædi er hun kalladi vard lokr.
127.þorbiorg. svaradi. þa. ertu frodari enn ek ætladi.
128.Gvdridr. s. þetta er þesskonar frædi ok at ferli. at ek ætla i avngvm at beina at vera. þviat ek er kona kristin.
129.þorbiorn, suarar. svo mætti uerda at þu yrdir mavnnum at lidi. her vm enn værir kona at verri
130.enn vid. þorkel met ek at fa þa hluti her til er þarf.
131.þorkell herdir nu at gvdridi. enn hun kuezt mundv giora sem hann villdi.
132.slogv knor hring vm hverfis. enn. þorbiorg vppi a seid hiallinvm.
133.qvad. Gvdridr. þa kuædit. suo fagurt ok uel at eingi þottizt fyrr heyrt hafva med fegri ravst kvedit. sa er þar uar.
134.spakona. þackar henni kvædit. hun hafdi margar nattvrur higat att sott ok þotti fagurt at heyra. þat er kuedit var. er adr uilddi far oss snuazt ok oss avngua hlydni veita.
135.Enn mer erv nu margar þeir hluter aud synar. er aadr var bædi ek ok adrir dulder.
136.Enn ek kann þat at segia at hallæri þetta mvn ecki halldazt leingr. ok mvn batna arangr. sem uarar.
137.Sottar far þat sem leignt hefir legit mvn batna vonv bradara.
138.Enn þier. Gvdridr. skal ek launa i havnd lid sinni þat sem oss hafir af stadit. þviat þin forlavg eru mer nu aull glaugg sæ
139.þat muntu giaf ord fa hier. aa grænlanndi. er sæmiligazt er til þo at þier verdi þat eigi til langædar. þviat uegir þinir liggia vt til islanndz. ok mvm þar koma fra þier ætt bogi bædi mikill ok godr ok yfir þinvm ætt kvislvm mvn skina biartr geisli. ennda far nu uel ok heil. dottir min.
140.Sidan gengu menn at uisennda konunni. ok fretti hver eptir þvi sem mest foruitni. var a
141.var hun ok god af fra savgnvm geck þat ok litt i tavma. s. hun.
142.þessv næst var komit eptir henni af audrvm bæ ok for hun þa þanngat.
143.var. sennt eptir. þorbirni þui at hann uilldi eigi heima vera medan slik heidni var framan.
144.Vedradtta battnadi skiott. þegar er uora tok sem þorbiorg hafdi sagt.
At this time there was a great famine in Greenland. Those who had gone out hunting had caught little, and some never came back. In the Settlement there was a woman named Þorbiorg, who was a spákona; she was called Lítilvolva [‘Little-Volva’]. She had nine sisters, who had all been spákonur, and she was the only one still alive. It was Þorbiorg’s custom to spend the winter attending feasts, invited home mostly to those who were curious to know their own future or what the coming year would bring. As Þorkell was the leading farmer there, it was felt that it was up to him to find out when the bad times that had been weighing upon them would let up. Þorkell invited the spákona to visit, and a good welcome was prepared for her, as was the custom when a woman of this kind was received. A high-seat was prepared for her, and a cushion laid upon it; this was to be stuffed with hen’s feathers. When she arrived in the evening, together with the man who had been sent to escort her, she was wearing a blue [or ‘black’] cloak fitted with straps, decorated with stones right down to the hem. She wore a string of glass beads around her neck. On her head she wore a black lambskin hood lined with white catskin. She had a staff in her hand, with a knob on it; it was fitted with brass and set with stones up around the knob. Around her waist she had a belt of tinder-wood, on which was a large leather pouch. In it she kept the charms (taufr) that she used for her sorcery [fróðleikr]. She had hairy calfskin shoes on her feet, with long, sturdy laces; they had great knobs of tin [or ‘pewter’ or ‘brass’] on the end. On her hands she wore catskin gloves, which were white inside and furry. When she came in, everyone was supposed to offer her respectful greetings, which she received according to her opinion of each person. Þorkell the farmer took the vísendakona by the hand, and led her to the seat that had been prepared for her. Þorkell then asked her to cast an eye over his flock, his household and his homestead; she had few words for all of it. Tables were set up in the evening, and it must now be told what food was prepared for the spákona. A porridge of kids’ milk was made for her, and for her meat the hearts of all the animals available there. She had a brass spoon and an ivory-handled knife clasped with copper [or ‘bronze’ or ‘brass’], and with the point broken off. Then when the tables had been cleared away, Þorkell the farmer walked up to Þorbiorg and asked what she thought of what she had seen there and the conduct of the household, and how soon he could expect a reply to what he had asked after and which people wanted to know. She said that she would not reveal this until the morning, after she had spent a night there. Late the next day she was provided with the tools she needed to carry out her seiðr. She asked for women who knew the charms [frœði] necessary for carrying out seiðr and which are called varðlok(k)ur. But there were no such women to be found. Then they searched through the household, to see if there was anyone who knew [the charms]. Then Guðríðr answered, “I am neither skilled in sorcery [fjolkynnig] nor a vísendakona, but Halldís my foster-mother in Iceland taught me such charms [frœði] that she called varðlok(k)ur”. Þorbiorg answered, “Then you know more than I expected”. Guðríðr said, “These are the sort of charms [frœði] and proceedings in which I feel I want no part, for I am a Christian woman”. Þorbiorg answered, “It may be that you could help the people here by so doing, and you would be no worse a woman for that; but it is to Þorkell I must look to provide me with what I need”. Þorkell now pressed Guðríðr hard, until she said she would do as he wanted. Then the women formed a circle around the seiðr-platform [seiðhjallr] on top of which was Þorbiorg. Guðríðr then chanted the chants [kvæði] so beautifully and so well, that no-one there could say that they had heard anyone recite with a more lovely voice. The spákona thanked her for the chant and said that many spirits [náttúrur] had been drawn there who thought it beautiful to hear what had been chanted, “who before wanted to turn from us and refused to obey us; moreover many things are now clear to me which were earlier hidden both from me and from others. And I can tell you that this famine will not last longer than this winter, and that the season will mend when the spring comes. The sickness that has long troubled you will also improve sooner than expected. And you, Guðríðr, I will reward on the spot for the help we have had from you, for your fate is now very clear to me. You will make a match here in Greenland, the most honourable there is, though it will not last long, because your path lies out in Iceland, and there will spring from you a progeny both great and good, and over your line will shine a bright ray. Now fare you well, and health to you, my daughter”. Then people went up to the vísendakona, and each asked after that which they were most concerned to know; she gave them good answers, and little that she had said was not fulfilled. Next she was sent for from another house, and so she went on her way. Then they sent for Þorbiorn, who did not wish to remain at home while such heathen things were going on. With the arrival of spring the weather soon improved, as Þorbiorg had said.
Eiríks saga rauða 4; text from Skálholtsbók after Jansson
1944: 39–44; my translation, generally following Kunz
2000 and Jones 1961; translation includes amendments
from the Hauksbók text
Female seiðr-workers are also mentioned in Laxdæla saga (76), Egills saga Skalla-Grímssonar (59), Kormáks saga (6) and Landnámabók (194). A Sámi volva performs seiðr in Vatnsdæla saga (10; an episode also glossed in Landnámabók), a rather late source that must be used with particular caution (see Strömbäck 1935: 69–75). Seiðmenn appear again in Gísla saga Súrssonar (18) and Laxdæla saga (35); in Njáls saga (30) a man has his spear enchanted by seiðr. Each of these, and other appearances by sorcerers of various kinds, are taken up in detail over the following chapters.
Among the later sagas, principally concerned with heroic or mythical stories of a kind far more removed from any Viking-Age reality than the family sagas, there are also a number of references to seiðr.
Some of these are extensive, and they include one in particular which has in the past been taken together with Eiríks saga rauða as a ‘type example’ for a seiðr performance, from Hrólfs saga kraka (3); this is reproduced in full in the next chapter. A second extended passage (ibid: 32ff) also concerns seiðr, but in the context of its use on the battlefield; this is presented and discussed in chapter 6. Composed in the fourteenth century and only preserved in paper manuscripts from the seventeenth century and later, Hrólfs saga kraka is a problematic source – not least because despite its late date, like Volsunga saga it concerns some of the earliest of the heroic tales. It also contains a number of parallels with Saxo’s Gesta Danorum.
Strömbäck (1935: 86f) believed that the seiðr elements in Hrólfs saga kraka were almost certainly medieval inventions, whereas the descriptions of shape-shifting and ‘totemistic’ relationships with animals were more likely to be of ancient origin. However, this can be reassessed in the light of the broader context of seiðr as battlefield magic, which I believe it possible to establish and which I discuss below. While there is no doubt that the saga is a highly problematic source, it is striking how well its descriptions of combat sorcery fit other evidence that is independent of the text. We shall explore this in subsequent chapters.
Among the later sources, references to seiðr and its practitioners also appear in Norna-Gests þáttr, Friðþjófs saga frøkna, Orvar-Odds saga, Orms þáttr Stórólfssonar, Gongu-Hrólfs saga, Sogubrot af fornkonungum, Þorsteins saga Víkingassonar, Volsunga saga, Sturlaugs saga starfsama, Gríms saga loðinkinna, Hálfdanar saga Bronufóstra, Gunnars saga Keldugnúpsfífls, Sorla saga sterka, Nikulás saga leikara, Ektors saga, and Bárðar saga Snæfellsáss. The term seiðskratti also appears in Hálfdanar saga Barkarsonar (8), but this is a very late source, perhaps even post-medieval.
All these episodes, together with many more that refer to different kinds of sorcery and other activities related to these practices, are discussed in chapter 3.
In addition to these, seiðr is also mentioned in a number of sources as late as the Reformation, and on into the early modern period. These can be seen more in terms of developing folklore and the longevity of words and concepts in the Icelandic language. These sources are mentioned in passing by Strömbäck, and many of them are collected by Almqvist (2000: 261ff).
From the contemporary sagas, that is those of similar date to the family sagas but describing the period of their composition, we also find a brief reference to something that may be a seiðr performance. In Kristni saga and the related text Þorvalds þáttr víðforla appears an episode in which two Christians are disturbed by the wailing of a pagan ‘priestess’, a gyðja of the type that we have seen above. She is sitting on a raised altar, apparently to make a sacrifice (blót). Seiðr is not mentioned by name, but the implied platform is strikingly similar to those mentioned in connection with sorcery, and it may be that this passage is describing such a ritual.
An important category of sources for the contemporary reality of seiðr, as opposed to its literary construction in the sagas, are the early medieval Scandinavian law codes. Strömbäck (1935: 106f) found two references to this practice. The first derives from a collection of royal and episcopal court records from 1281, preserved in a manuscript from c.1480. In one passage it is stated that,
… ef þat verdr kent korllvm eda konum at þau seide eda magne troll vpp at rida monnum eda bvfe … þa skal flytia utt aa sio og sockua til gruna. og aa kongur og biskup hvern penning fiar þeirra
… if it is discovered that a man or woman has performed seiðr, or raised a great troll to ride people or animals … then they shall be driven out beyond the parish bounds, and forfeit all their property to the king and bishop
Dipl. Isl. II: 223; my translation
There is some comparison here with the Norwegian Gulaþing laws cited below (NGL I: 19, 182), which also mention raising trolls by sorcery, but Strömbäck (1935: 106f) considers that the act of seiðr and the act of summoning are separate events.
The second mention of seiðr in the legal codes comes from an elaboration made c.1326 to the twelfth-century Skriptaboð Þorláks biskups helga, in which Bishop Jón Halldórsson sets severe penalties for:
sitr madr vti til fordleiks. eda fremr madr galldra. eda magnar madr seid. eda heidni.
a person who sits outside to make sorcery (fróðleikr), or a person who performs galdr, or a person who makes powerful seiðr, or heathenism.
Dipl. Isl. I: 240ff, my translation
Neither of these notices tells us anything about the practice of sorcery itself, but its concept – and, presumably, reality – was clearly still current in the period of the sagas’ composition.
Seiðr is mentioned explicitly in only two non-Norse sources. The first of these is Þiðriks saga af Bern, which as the name implies is an Icelandic version of a tale that derives from mainland Europe. The term is thus used to translate what was originally something different. The relevant passage is reviewed in chapter 3.
The second reference comes from Upphaf Rómverja, an introduction to Rómverja sogur from the early fourteenth century (or perhaps earlier) that deals with the origins of Rome (Almqvist 2000: 252f). In the story of Romulus and Remus we find the words seiðgaldr and seiðmagnan, both of which are unique. The former represents a new kind of magic term and the second would seem to mean ‘great seiðr’. They are clearly translations of Latin words, though which these might be is uncertain. The late date and context renders them largely uninformative for our purposes, but the concept of seiðgaldr is intriguing.
Although it does not mention the term by name, there is also a crucial reference to something that probably was a seiðr performance in a rather unusual source from Ireland. The Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh, ‘The Wars of the Irish with the Foreigners [i.e. the Norse]’, is a series of retrospective chronicles of the Viking Age written for the great-grandson of Brian Bórama, Muirchertach Ua Briain, who died in 1119 (see Ní Mhaonaigh 2001: 101). It exists in several manuscripts, in three of which we find a single brief reference to the sorcerous activities of a Scandinavian woman called Otta. She is described as the wife of a Viking chieftain named Turges – probably an Irish reading of the Norse name Þurgestr (Ó Corráin 2001: 19) – who temporarily gained control of several key centres in Connacht during a raid sometime in the period 838–845.
The oldest version of the Cogadh is contained in a single folio of the Book of Leinster (see the introduction to Todd’s edition), and this fragment also contains the most complete note on the ritual. After listing the settlements occupied by Turges’ Vikings, the chronicler comments:
Tuc Cluain mic nois da mnai. Is and ra bered a frecartha daltoir in tempoil móir. Otta ainm mnaa Turgeis.
Cluain mic nois [Clonmacnoise] was taken by his wife. It was on the altar of the great church she used to give her answers. Otta was the name of the wife of Turgeis.
Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh, Leinster fragment (Ms. L): XI; translation after Todd 1867: 226
The Dublin version of the manuscript has it slightly differently:
… ocus is and dobered Ota ben Turges a huricli ar altoir Cluana mic Nois.
… and the place where Ota, the wife of Turges, used to give her audience was upon the altar of Cluain Mic Nois [Clonmacnoise].
Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh, Dublin manuscript (Ms. D): XI; translation after Todd 1867: 13
The Brussels manuscript of the Cogadh has a third variant of the woman’s name, where it is given as Otur – perhaps in reality she was named Auðr. Little work has been done on this episode, though in 1960 W. E. D. Allen interpreted ‘Ota’ as being a member of a foreign embassy to the Irish Vikings. Again, the Cogadh will be taken up in the next chapter.