The Festival Year

A Survey of the Annual Festival Cycle and Its Relation to the

Heathen Lunisolar Calendar

Joshua Rood

MA

Old Norse Religion

Háskóli Íslands

21/11/2013

This essay is an attempt to construct an annual calendrical model that would have existed among

the heathen peoples of Scandinavia and Northern Europe prior to the advent of the Christian

“Julian“ calendar. The evidence suggests that this annual cycle would be based around the

movements of the sun and the moon, which determined when seasonal festivals and “holy times”

took place. Such a model should help to reveal widespread and deep rooted traditions around the

annual cycle that existed among heathen people prior to and during the Viking Age.

The Lunisolar Calendar

Evidence that heathen Scandinavians utilized the sun and the moon as a means of calculating

annual cycles is widespread and does not require more than a brief summary. The Eddic poem

Vafþrúðnismál, st. 23 relates that:

Himin hverfa Around heaven

Þau skolo hverian dag They shall go daily

Öldom at ártali For men to count years1

Their primary purpose here is not simply to shine during day and night, but rather “to count the

years” (að ártali)” Regarding the moon specifically, Vafþrúðnismál, st. 25 says:

Ný ok nið Waxing and waning

Skópo nýt regin Created the capable gods

Öldom at ártali For men to count years

In short, the waxing and waning of the moon (ný og nið), itself was first and foremost, a function

that was fashioned by the gods to “count the years.” In Alvísmál, st. 14 it is said that “álfar call

(the moon) year-counter” (kalla álfar ártala). Throughout the Icelandic sagas of the 12th and

13th centuries and in some of the oldest Scandinavian laws there are also numerous references to

the years being reckoned though waxing and waning moons.2 The means of transportation for

1 Eddadigte, 1962.

2 Nordberg, 2006, pp. 68-69.

these heavenly bodies is also readily evident as a very old and widespread concept. Eddic poetry

refers to the sun and the moon as being drawn by horses.3 There are many Bronze Age rock

carvings in Bohuslän and southern Scandinavia which portray crossed discs which could be

identified as sun/moon images being pulled in wagons drawn by horses or in boats.4 Razers

engraved with similar images5 and the Trundholm Chariot, a crafted horse fashioned to a golden

disc6 have all been found in Denmark from this same early period. It can be safely concluded that

a connection between the sun/moon and transportation on vehicles is very old in heathen religion

and that they were responsible for the reckoning of time in years and months.

Remnants of this old method of counting annual cycles have been preserved throughout

Scandinavia. In Sweden the lunisolar method has continued as recently as the early 1900’s,

where the “Yule Moon” (Jultungel) was the moon that shone during Epiphany, and the Dísting

Market7 was held on the following full moon, called Disa, Distungel or Distingstungel.8 The

relationship between the Jultungel and Epiphany is clearly a Christian modification of what had

originally been a relationship between a “Yule Moon” and the winter solstice. This same

relationship can be observed over a large geographic and temporal range. In around 1220, the

Icelandic Bókarbót relates that two related months, Ýlir and Jólmánuðr were currently observed

in which Ýlir fell between mid November to mid December, and Jólmánuðr followed from mid

December to mid January (Julian calendar).9 Naturally the winter solstice fell at the point where

one month ended and the next began.10 The idea of the two Yule months being positioned

around the winter solstice is not unusual and occures elsewhere: In the tenth century, the same

two lunar months are recorded in Old English as se ǣrra Geola and se æftera Geola (the earlier

Yule and the later Yule).11 Yule itself is mentioned as early as about 350 in the Gothic

manuscript, Codex Ambrosianus which mentions “the month before the Yule month” (fruma

3 Grímnismál 37; Vafþrúðnismál 23; in Eddadigte, 1962.

4 Coles, 2005,

5 Goldhann, 2004, p. 13.

6 Roussell. 1957. p. 40.

7 Óláfs saga Helga; in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 292.

8 Nordberg, 2006, p. 116.

9 Rímtöl, 1914, p. 78.

10 Nordberg, 2006, points out that there was a 7 day discrepancy between the astronomical and Julian years when the Julian

calendar was converted to the Gregorian in the 12th

century. As a result, the 21st

of December in the Gregorian Calendar today would be the 14

th of December in the Julian from the 1100´s. p. 148.

11 Nilson, 1920, p. 293.

jiuleis).12 In the eighth century the Anglo Saxon scholar, Venerable Bede recorded a full

calendar for the heathen Angles dwelling in southern Denmark:

The first month, which the Latins call January, is Guili; February is called Solmonath;

March Hrethmonath; April Eosturmonath; May Thrimilchi; June Litha; July, also Litha;

August, Weodmonath; September, Halegmonath; October, Winterfilleth; November,

Blodmonath; December, Guili, the same name by which January is called. They began

the year on the 8th kalends of January [25 December], when we celebrate the birth of the

Lord. That very night, which we hold so sacred, they used to call the heathen word

Modranecht, that is “mother’s night”, because (we suspect) of the ceremonies they

enacted that night.

Whenever it was a common year, they gave three lunar months to each season. When an

embolismic year occurred (that is, one of 13 lunar months) they assigned the extra month

to summer, so that three months together bore the name “Litha”; hence they called [the

embolismic] year “Thrilithi”. 13

In 2006, Andreas Nordberg demonstrated convincingly that using material like this, it is

possible to reconstruct the old lunisolar system. His study can be read in Jul, disti o

r r l er : kalendrar och kalendariska r er e r r s a or e There

Nordberg argues that the heathen calendar was a lunisolar system in which months began on the

new moon so that the full moon shone on the middle of the month, and the next month began

with the next new moon. Because 12 lunar cycles are approximately 11 days short of a full solar

year, they would need to be regulated and intermittantly adjusted. According to Nordberg, years

were maintained as follows:

A) There are always two Yule lunar months. The first should always cover the winter

solstice so that the second Yule lunar month always started with the first new moon

following solstice.

B) If the new moon of the second Yule month emerged 11 days or less following the winter

solstice, then a 13th lunar month would be inserted that year. If this adjustment is not

12

Die Gotische Bibel, 1908, p. 472. 13

Bede: The Reckoning of Time, 1999, p. 53.

made, then the second Yule lunar month on the following year would begin before the

winter solstice, and the calendar would be too far off.

C) This 13th lunar month was to be added at the time of the summer solstice. This “leap

month” would be inserted every three years.14

In addition to the lunisolar calendar, the annual cycle was further divided by seasons, the

calculating of which was based around this calendar, and which determined the nature of annual

festivals and celebrations.

It is well established that medieval Scandinavians reckoned time according to nights and

winters. That is to say that day began at dusk, and the seasonal year began with the start of

winter.15 This natural year did not begin at the same time as the astronomical year, which we

have determined was the first new moon after the winter solstice. Today, the first day of winter

in Iceland begins on the Saturday between the 21st and 27th of October. Prior to the adoption of

the Julian calendar, winter would have almost certainly have begun on the full moon that

occurred after the equinox;16 during the month Bede calls Winterfilleth. The days going into

winter are called veturnætur “winternights” in Scandinavian sources and marked not only the

beginning of winter, but the beginning of the natural year for early Scandinavians. They are still

called this in Iceland.

The natural split between the “winter season” and the “summer season” is still seen on

the Swedish and Norwegian wooden rune calendar (primstaven) where the front half represents

the winter and the back half represents the summer half of the year. The winter half of the rune

calendar starts on the winternights, and end less than a month after the vernal equinox. Similar

staffs have been found in Estonia and Finland.17 Terry Gunnell has argued that the heathen

seasonal calendar, like the latter Nordic calendar, was split into two seasons instead of four, in

which the winter was cosmologically dominated by women, death and magic; while summer was

ruled by men, trade, and war.18 Andreas Nordberg on the other hand has favored a year broken

into quarters and marked with festivals and religious gatherings.19 It seems logical to me that as

Nordberg suggests, a lunisolar calendar existed among heathen Scandinavians beginning on the

14

Nordberg, 2006, pp. 65-66. 15

See for example Germania, 1970, p. 110; Caesar’s Commentaries on the Gallic Wars, 1901, p. 215; Hálfdanar Saga Svarta in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 44; Ólafs Saga Helga in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 462. 16

Gunnell, 2000, p. 127. 17

Nordberg, 2006, p. 41; Vilkuna & Jahres, 1962, pp. 43, 58. 18

Gunnell, 2000, p. 127. 19

Nordberg, 2006, pp. 40-43, p. 153.

first new moon following winter solstice and regulated by inserting a 13th month every three

years or as necessary at the summer solstice. A simultaneous natural calendar designated the

start of winter as occurred on the full moon of the winternights and the start of summer on a full

moon following the spring equinox. Since the beginning of winter, the beginning of the lunar

year, the beginning of summer, and the potential 13th lunar month all occur roughly every three

lunar months, the year is automatically broken into quarters. This does not automatically mean

that the year wasn’t seen as two opposing halves, as we shall see.

Further evidence for the idea of quarterly festivals can be found throughout Scandinavian

and north European sources which repeatedly place them at intervals which we may call “the

start of winter”, “midwinter” “the start of summer” and “midsummer”.20 Estonian and Finnish

staff calendars regularly mark the years by quarters. For example, summer (suvipäive) occurs

about April 14, midsummer (keskikesä) occurs on 13-14 of July, winter (talvipäive) occurs on or

about October 14th, and midwinter (talvenapa, ‘winter breeding’) falls on the 13-14 of January.21

These dates regularly appear in folktales, sagas, provincial laws and other “every day

contexts”.22 Nordberg argues that these fixed dates stem from a pre-Julian method of counting

28 days (exactly 4 weeks) after each solstice or equinox. After adjusting them to the Gregorian

calendar, and comparing them to their corresponding equinox/solstice, he demonstrates that they

do indeed occur exactly 28 days following the solar event, except for in one case, which showed

only a two day discrepancy.23 Nordberg provides the following dates.

Autumnal equinox 21 Sept. +28 Days= Winter Nights start 20 Oct.

Winter solstice 21 Dec. +28 Days= Midwinter starts 19 Jan.

Vernal equinox 20 March +30 Days= First day of summer starts 20 April

Summer solstice 21 June +28 Days= Midsummer starts 20 July24

There is some difficulty with his argument, however. Nils Lithberg believed that the shift

from one quarter to the next originally took place during the first full moon following the

20

Ágrip of Nóregskonungasögum 19, pp. 32-33. 21

Vilkuna, 1962, p. 43; Nordberg 2006, p. 41 22

Nordberg, 2006, ch. 2 and p. 150. 23

Nordberg, 2006, explains the two day discrepancy in the relationship between the vernal equinox and the first day of summer as follows: さOf the fouヴ astヴoﾐoﾏiIal fi┝ poiﾐts, Hoth solstiIes aヴe the ﾏost stヴaightfoヴ┘aヴd to oHseヴ┗e. The easiest ┘a┞ of determining the equinoxes is to assume that they occur halfway between the solstice; this is true of the autumnal equinox, but the astronomical spring equinox occurs a couple of days earlier than its assumed date. This is not discernable to the naked eye, however, and we can assume that the pre-Christian Nordic quarters started four weeks after the dates that were assumed to be the astronomically correct solstiIes aﾐd eケuiﾐo┝es.ざ p. ヱ5ヱ. 24

Nordberg, 2006, p. 151.

solstice/equinox, and that they became fixed into the Julian calendar when it was introduced to

the Nordic countries. He argued that this would account for the fact that winternights regularly

appear as three consecutive days.25 This can be seen in Vala-ljóts saga, “the third winternight”

(hinar þriðju veturnætur), and we can see evidence of the three day pattern extending to the

other calendric festivals.26 Snorri says that the heathen yule began at midwinter night, and that

yule itself lasted for three nights after.27 The Dalalagen refers to both winter and summer nights

in plural.28 Both Lithberg and Nordberg agree that these three day periods, observed most

readily in winternights, had originally existed at the transitional period from one seasonal quarter

to the next. Over time these dates would have been standardized into one day instead of three.

Árni Björnsson notes that various Icelandic bishops attempted to shorten the three day period

into one,29 and Gunnell observes that these three were a “liminal period belonging to neither

season.”30 Lithberg explains these three days originally coincided with the three days that the

moon was full in the middle of the lunar month.

Nordberg himself agrees that “[heathen religious] festivals were held at the time of a

new or full moon,”31 and attempts to reconcile this information with his argument for fixed days

by proposing that while the actual start of the seasonal quarters began 28 days after the

solstice/equinox, the festivals related to these seasonal changes would have been celebrated on

the actual full moon following solstice/equinox. His explanation for why the official start of

each quarter was fixed to four weeks after a solstice/equinox is that otherwise the start of the

quarters would be tied to the moons, and would therefore shift up to about a month in different

years. It seems to me that if people had no problem celebrating their seasonal festivals on the

full moon (which shifted up to a month), then they would have had no problem with the official

shift in seasons taking place at that time as well. It seems only natural that this three night shift

between seasons would coincide with the three nights on which the moon shone its brightest.

The Yearly Cycle

25

Lithberg, 1921, p. 155, pp. 165-168. 26

Valla-Ljóts saga, in Íslendinga sögur, 1987, p. 1832. 27

Hákonar saga Góða, in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 97. さEﾐ áðr var jólahald hafit hökunótt, þat var miðsvetrarnótt, ok haldin þriggja nátta jól.ざ 28

Cited in Nordberg, 2006, p. 41. 29

Árni Björnnson, 1995, pp. 59-61; Gunnell, 2000, p. 128. 30

Gunnell, 2000, p. 128. 31

Nordberg, 2006, p. 153.

The ritual year began with the coming of winter and the winternights (veturnætur). The period

of darkness that followed encompassed the yule festivities, around midwinter. The gradual

return of the sun in later months brought the thaw, the first days of summer, and the planting and

ploughing. Festivals would have taken place at intervals that were relevant to the turning

seasons and rituals related to the particular time of year would have been enacted. In Ynglinga

saga, Snorri says that “there should be a sacrifice at the start of winter for a good year; one in the

middle of winter for good growth; the third in the summer: that was a victory sacrifice.” 32

The Ágrip af Noregs Konnungasögum recording Ólafr Tryggvason says:

He abolished blót and blót-drinking, in place of which, as a favor to the people, he ordained

holiday drinking at Yule and Easter, St John´s Mass ale and an autumn-ale at Michaels mass.33

Snorri’s account does not mention a Midsummer festival, but the other three events that he notes

correlate with the Ágrip, describing heathen rituals that were tied to the changing seasons of the

year. The practice of replacing heathen festivals with “Christian” themes was common, and

reflects the strategy described by Pope Gregory in a letter sent to the abbot Mellitus who was

trying to convert the Anglo Saxons in the 7th century:

Tell him (Augustine) what I have, upon mature deliberation on the affair of the English,

determined upon, that the temples of the idols in that nation ought not to be destroyed; but let the

idols that are in them be destroyed; let holy water be made and sprinkled in the said temples, let

altars be erected, and relics placed. For if those temples are well built, it is requisite that they be

converted from the worship of devils to the service of the true God; that the nation, seeing that

their temples are not destroyed, may remove error from their hearts, and knowing and adoring the

true God, may the more familiarly resort to the places to which they have been accustomed. 34

In short, essentially, the best way to convert heathen populations was to allow them to continue

their festivals under a more acceptable, Christian guise. It is also important to note that the

observances that took place over the course of the year took many forms, and changed over time

and place. At times it may be difficult to draw a line of distinction between “mundane games” or

“religious rituals” whether they are sporting events and competitions, drinking bouts, feasts,

dramatic reenactments, or the sacrifice of objects and animals.35 In part, this may be the result of

Christianization. Terry Gunnell notes that in other contexts, games and play activities seem to

32

Ynglinga saga, in Heimskringla, 1944, pp. 9-10. 33

Ágrip af Nóregskonungasögum, 1995, pp. 30-32. 34

Colgrave & Mynors, 1981, pp. 107-109. 35

Wessén, 1921, p. 120; Gunnell, 2000, p. 32.

have been linked to religious holidays from a very early period in time and notes that even today

we see traditional games such as football and tug-of-war taking place during the yule season in

Orkney and Shetland.36 “Games meetings” (leikmót) are often mentioned in the sagas, and they

are often associated with seasonal festivals. In Egils saga a ball game (knattleikur)37 is held

near the winternights.38 Eyrbyggja saga similarly states that the same type of game, knattleikur,

was played as an autumn tradition among the Breiðvík men during “vetrnætur”.39 Of course this

does not always mean that every game or dance recorded in the sagas was a religious ritual, and

certainly any time there is a festival, that would imply the occurrence of mundane games. But in

many ways, games seemed to have formed a common part of the holiday on which they

occurred. In addition, we will see other games and activities which clearly seem to have formed

a direct part of a religious ritual.

The Winter Nights and the Dísablót

As noted above, the winternights (veturnætur) seemed to have been officially celebrated over a

course of three days, on the first full moon following the autumn equinox, which was the full

moon of the month which Bede calls Winterfilleth (“Winter Full”). They are probably the best

preserved of the heathen holidays, and this may be because of their role as the start of the natural

year. Generally, the winternights fell at a time when the harvest was finished, the days were

darkening, and the cold was beginning to settle in. Bede refers to the month following

Winterfilleth as Blodmonath (“month of immolations”) and says that this was the time when

cattle were to be slaughtered and “consecrated to their gods”.40 This was traditionally the time of

year when the herds were culled so as to ensure enough feed to survive the winter, and the

winternights, the essential beginning of the year, marked the start of this season. Celebrations

seemed to revolve around the local farmstead, and were essentially “invite only”. In Gísla saga

Súrssonar we are told “It was the custom (siðr) of many in that time to celebrate winter and have

feasts (veislur) and Winternights Sacrifice (Veturnáttablót).”41 Flateyjarbók says “the feast

36

Gunnell, 2000, p. 33. 37

Gunnell, 2000, p. 129. 38

Egils saga, 2013, ch. 40, p. 77. 39

Eyrbyggja saga, 1935, p. 115. 40

Bede: The Reckoning of Time, 1999, p. 53. 41

Gísla saga Súrssonar, 1943, p. 17. My translation.

(veisla) was prepared for the winternights. Few of those invited came because the weather was

very stormy and troublesome.”42 Eyrbyggja saga says:

The next autumn at the winternights, Snorri the Goði held an autumn feast and invited all

of his friends. There was heavy ale drinking there.43

As mentioned above, sacrifices at this time would have been normal. Who the blót would have

been directed to may have varied. But two particular recipients are given support in the sources.

Namely, Freyr and the female spirits collectively called Dísir. Freyr’s connection to

winternights is explicitely stated once, and inferred through various other sources. In Gisla saga

Súrssonar it says “that autumn, Þorgrímur planned a feast for winternights to welcome winter

and make a sacrifice to Freyr.”44 In Ólafs saga helga, the Christian poet Sighvatur Þorðarson is

said to have been denied admittance to a farm in the autumn because the locals were

participating in a “sacrifice to álfar” (álfablót).45 We may note that the álfar are a part of,

perhaps synonymous with the Vanir46and in any case, were strongly associated with Freyr.47

Further evidence for Freyr’s connection to the winternights can be found in the traditional

harvest celebrations involving horse races and fighting in Iceland around the public autumn

Þing,48 found throughout sagas, and which the later bishop Oddur Einarsson prohibits priests

from attending in 1592.49 One might remember that the horse was an animal sacred to Freyr.50

It is also interesting to note that the Völsa þáttr from Flateyjarbók describes the autumn rituals of

a remote farmstead in Norway in which a horse phallus is preserved and treated as an object of

worship.51 The phallus and the horse both being connections to Freyr may lend further evidence

for associations between Freyr and the winternights. In addition, Terry Gunnell notes that the

autumn festivals commonly feature weddings in the saga accounts, and suggests this may be

evidence of a connection to Freyr.52 Weddings at this time may have been for the sake of

practicality, or may have have had some significance with the new year. Irregardless, as the

42

Flateyjarbók I, 1860-1868, p. 466. My translation. 43

Eyrbyggja saga, p. 98. 44

Gísla saga Súrssonar, 1943, p. 27. 45

Ólafs saga helga, in Heimskringla, 1944. p. 314-315. 46

Hall 2007, p. 27. 47

Grímnismál, st. 5, in, Eddadigte, 1962. 48

Solheim, 1956, pp 51-78. 49

Gunnell, 1995, p. 35. 50

Hrafnkel´s saga Freysgoða, 1965, pp. 14-15. 51

Flateyjarbók II, 1860-1868, pp 441-446. 52

Gunnell, 2006, p. 65.

deity associated with marriage53 it is not unrealistic to imagine Freyr having a role in these

rituals. It should be noted that both the álfarblót and völsa þáttr take place in autumn but there is

no written reference to winternights, so their connection is conjecture. On the other hand, the

Dísir, who most certainly were worshiped at winternights, have a wealth of preserved references

which we may analyse.

In short, the Dísir appear to have been powerful female spirits that watched and protected

family lines and individuals.54 Arguably they are connected with the Germanic matronae,55 and

were associated with fertility and childbirth, as well as death and sometimes warfare. The Dísir

were obviously more than deceased female spirits, and more akin to minor goddesses. We find

places named after them (Diseberg/Disevi (SV); Disen (Nor),56 and they could have control over

life and death, and protect, families and clans.57 They may have had associations with Freyja,

whom Snorri calls Vanadís (dís of the Vanir),58 and with Skaði, who is once referred to as

Öndurdis (Ski dís).59 Concerning the Dísablót, Víga-Glúms saga says “There was a feast

prepared for winternights and a Dísablót and all should attend.”60 Egils saga also describes a

Dísablot taking place in late autumn.61 Þiðranda þáttr in Flateyjarbók describes a clearly

Christianized description of a winternights celebration taking place in Iceland in which two

groups of women described as Dísir appear, representing the older famililal Dísir of a guest

named Þiðrandi, and the new Dísir of Christianity. Þiðrandi’s old Dísir kill him to compensate

for the lack of tribute they would recieve from the new religion,62 though it is interesting to note

that Þiðrandi’s companions had procured an ox which they named Spámaðr (prophecy-man), to

be sacrificed. A second point of interest, which we shall see become a common feature of the

winter half of the year, is that during the feast, the guests were told not to go outside, “because

great harm will come about.”63 The Dísir in this instance are portrayed as dangerous entities

from outside the farmstead which have moved in and subsequently kill Þiðrandi. While the

53

Brunet-Jailly, 1998, p. 216; さIf marriages are to be celebrated (libations are poured to) Fヴe┞ヴ.ざ M┞ tヴaﾐslatioﾐ. 54

Simek, 1993 p. 61; Davidson, 1998, p. 47; Turville-Petre, 1964, pp. 221-227. 55

Simek, 2007, p. 205. 56

Gunnell, live lecture 17, 2013, and Simek 2007. Hundreds of stone altars engraved to the matronae have also been found throughout continental Europe. 57

Gunnell, 2006, p. 130. 58

Snorra-Edda 2003, p. 125. 59

Snorra-Edda 2003, p. 38. 60

Víga-Glúms saga, 2001, p. 17. 61

Egils saga, 2008, p. 84. 62

Flateyarbok I, 1944, pp. 465-476. 63

Flateyjarbók I, 1944, p. 466.

connection between the Dísir and the wilderness is probably Christian, the motif of dangers from

the “outside” moving into the “inner yard” is common, beginning in winternights and lasting

through the winter period. The role that the Dísir played may have been two-fold, and

demonstrate their role as protective spirits connected with fertility, birth, and as well as spirits

who were associated with death. In addition to Freyr’s connection to weddings, it makes sense

that family goddesses would be gifted, in the hope for fertility, and perhaps childbirth later that

year.64 That they would have played a role with the weddings that took place at the beginning of

the natural year (winternights) is not surprising, but we will see another activity that frequently

took place during the period following winternights with which they may also have been

associated.

Frequently during the culling of the flocks, farmsteads would give sacrifices and hold

rituals in an attempt to foresee what the year had in store for them. With the harvest completed,

surviving the winter was a matter that in many ways was “up to fate” (the norns?). Prophecy

was a deep rooted part of heathen society, and this was a natural time to conduct such rituals. In

Landnámabók it says “that winter Ingolfr held a great sacrifice to discover what the future had in

store for him. The oracle told Ingolfr to go to Iceland.”65 “That winter” in this context almost

certainly refers to the beginning of the winter and the time around winternights. In the account

of Þiðrandi, a man named Þorhallr, who was called a spámaðr (man who gives prophesies) had

been invited to the private winternights feast. A bull they intend to sacrifice is also called

Spámaðr.66 Eiríks saga rauða provides a detailed account of a travelling seiðkona67 (seiðr

woman) who spends the winter period visiting households and foretelling how their year will

fair.68 In the account she spends what we may deduce is the period around winternights at a

farmstead in Greenland, where she is treated with a feast and in return, performs a ritual enabling

her to tell those present how they will fare that winter. In Örvar-Odds saga, a seiðkona and

völva named Heiðr travels to different feasts and tells people about the coming winter and their

fate.69 Seiðr was highly ritualized and generaly contained to the sphere of the woman. It has

been demonstrated convincingly that a central part of the seiðr complex involved communicating

64

Sigdrifumal 9 mentions their role in child birth. 65

Landnámabók Íslands, 1948, p. 8. 66

Saga of Olaf Tryggvason, Flateyjarbók. 67

Price 2002 provides a comprehensive overview of Seiðr. In short for our purposes, it is a form of sorcery, which entails in part, the fortelling of the future by communicating with spirits. 68

Íslendinga saga, 1985, pp. 523-524. 69

Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda, 1959, p. 205.

with spirits, including the dead, fylgur, and Dísir.70 We may conclude that there was a custom of

fortelling the fate of the winter and new year around the time of winternights and that at that

same time there were sacrifices held to the Dísir. We may also postulate that these two customs

were connected. Perhaps prophecies were held and the Dísir sacrificed to in hopes for their

protection; or perhaps sacrifices were held to the Dísir as part of a prophetic ritual, and in turn

they helped provide information about the coming winter, in the same (or accompanying) role as

the seiðkonur described above.

The quarter of the year which began on the full moon of winternights marked a period of

expanding darkness. Vafþruðnismál suggests that night was made for the gods and day was

fashioned for men. 71 Winter was the “night” for the year, and on the basis of the above it was a

liminal period associated with magic and death.72 The festivals and rituals held at this time seem

to have been concerned with both procuring and foreseeing a good year. The old heathen

formula, “til árs ok friðar” (to prosperity and peace for the year), preserved even in a Christian

context in Gulaþings-lov73 is especially relivent to Freyr, who was likely associated with the

harvest, which occures in the month prior to winternights. The horse races and fights held at

official autumn Þing events in Iceland and Norway may be the remnants of his worship, and as

noted he is mentioned as one of the reclipients of winternights sacrifices in the sagas. At the

same time, we see invite-only feasts and sacrifices at which the goddesses of the family were

worshiped, and prophecies delivered relating to the fate of the coming winter and year. We

might speculate that the poem Völuspá (prophecy of the völva) which was originally either a

ritual or drama performance,74 may have its roots in the winternight prophecies for the coming

year, or stem from that tradition. We might also speculate that Freyr’s connections to

winternights may have at some point been connected with the more public Þing festivals at that

time, while the Dísir remained the recipients of family rituals.

Yule and Midwinter

Despite the apparent antiquity of midwinter sacrifices, which Simek says go back to the Stone

Age;75 the exact nature of the Nordic yule season and festivities in a heathen context are difficult

70

Price, 2002 primarily; see also Dubois, 1999, pp. 52 and 122-138. 71

Vafþrúðnismál 11 and 13. 72

Gunnell, 2006. 73

Den Ældre Gulaþings-lov, 1846, p. 7. 74

See Dronke, 1997, Gunnell, 1995. 75

Simek, 1993, p. 379

to pin point. Nordberg has observed that the varying interpretations of the yule rituals range

from “a sun festival, a feast for the dead or a fertility feast”.76 Simek notes proportionally few

descriptions of heathen rituals in contrast with the richness of yuletide folk customs that have

survived in Northern Europe. These indicate that the celebrations in pre-Christian times must

have been quite significant, despite their ambiguity. It is probably a fact that yule and midwinter

never existed in a singular, unified context. It is nonetheless possible to demonstrate some

unifying patterns within the different, often intertwined customs which should shed some light

on the yule season in heathen Scandinavia. Snorri gives our most detailed description of the

heathen yule festivals in Hákonar saga góða, where cattle are sacrificed and blood is said to be

spattered on the pillars of the temple (hof) and on the gathered attendants. The flesh is then

boiled and made into a feast, and toasts drunk:

Óðin’s goblet was emptied for victory and power to the king; thereafter, Njorð’s and

Frey’s goblets for peace and a good season (árs ok friðar). Then it was the custom of

many to empty the bragarfull; and then the guests emptied a goblet to the memory of

departed friends, called the memory goblet77

Elsewhere it is stated that Hákon made it law that beer would be made for yule and the time kept

holy for as long as it lasted. As noted above, in Gulaþingslög, it was a Norwegian law to drink

“til árs ok friðar”.78 Simek postulates that this yule drinking may stem back to an older drink-

sacrifice.79 In a preserved piece of Haraldskvæði, composed around 900 by Þorbjörn Hornklofi,

it says:

Uti vill jól drekka, He wants to drink to yule outside

Ef skal einn ráða if he can decide alone,

Fylkir enn framlyndi, the fame-seeking ruler-

Ok Freys leik heyja; and perform Frey’s leikr;

Ungr leiddisk eldvelli the young man was tired

Ok inni sitja, of the fireside and sitting indoors

Varma dyngu in the warm women’s room

Eðda vöttu dúns fulla or down-filled cushions80

76

Nordberg, 2006, pp. 157-158. 77

Heimskringla, 1944, pp. 97-98. 78

Gulaþingslög 6-7, 2013. 79

Simek, 93, p. 379. 80

Fulk, 2014.

In this account, aside from the reference to ritual drinking associated with yule, we see a

reference to something called “Frey’s leikr”. Essentially leikr can mean “game”, or “dramatic

play.” The poem could thus be referring to war, sex, or something else. Terry Gunnell provides

a theory in The Origins of Drama in Scandinavia which shall be summarized here. Firstly, he

demonstrates that “leikir” were often connected to heathen ritual context, as demonstrated in the

term leikgoði, meaning perhaps “organizer of cult games.”81 Víga-Glums saga and Flateyjarbók

contain a scene in which an outlaw named Gunnarr Helming flees to a temple in Sweden where

an idol of Freyr is kept by a priestess, who is said to be the earthly “wife” for the god. Around

midwinter she takes a full entourage and the idol on a wagon on a procession to different villages

where they are greeted with feasts and offerings, and would provide good crops and prosperity in

return. Part way through the trip, Gunnar “wrestles” with the idol, throws it out of the wagon,

and puts whatever costume it was wearing on himself. The story concludes with Gunnar going

from town to town disguised as Freyr, and accepting offerings from the people alongside the

priestess, his (now pregnant) wife.82 Gunnell postulates that this story may have stemmed from

an older ritual in which either an idol or a procession of masked figures played a part in dramas

connected to seasonal fertility. Rituals in which a god or goddess travel on a sacred wagon

accompanied by an earthly retainer symbolizing their ‘spouse’ were not uncommon, as we will

see in the next section. Processions of masked figures, fertility rituals, and mock marriage are

frequently portrayed on the stone carvings in southern and central Sweden from the Bronze Age.

Sacred wagons depicted as carrying the sun have already been mentioned. Ceremonial wagons

have been unearthed in Dejbjerg and Gundestrup Denmark, in Oseberg Norway.83 Multiple

mask-like images such as on stone DR 66 in Aarhus Denmark have been found in southern and

central Scandinavia, and preserved masks have been found in Hedeby.

Gunnell postulates that in the case of the Gunnar story above, “Gunnar must be

visualized as wearing a large, stylized ‘human’ mask of some kind, like those that seem to be

worn by the dancing figures depicted on the … Gummersmark brooch from Sjælland in

Denmark, and Alleberg collar from Sweden (600-300 BC).”84 In later centuries, throughout

81

Gunnell, 1995, pp. 88-89. 82

Flateyjarbók, 1944, pp 372-377. 83

Gunnell, 1995, pp. 53-60. Both wagons are highly ornate, and the Dejbjerg wagon has been determined to be too delicate for aﾐ┞thiﾐg otheヴ thaﾐ ヴitual use. The OsHeヴg ┘agoﾐ’s ┘heels Iaﾐﾐot tuヴﾐ, aﾐd so it ﾏust ha┗e Heeﾐ used foヴ a ヴitual ┘heヴe it could only be pulled back and forth. 84

Gunnell, 1995, pp. 54-60

Sweden and parts of Finland and Norway, traditional yule customs consisted of a ride between

farmsteads on horses that were led by a figure called the Halm-Staffan or julgubbe. The

julgubbe would be dressed in a costume in made of plated straw, and bore masks and headware

made of straw.85 Nils Lid has pointed out parallels between these traditions and Finnish horse

races where an image of the fertility god Peko was drawn on sledges in late January and early

February.86 Magnus Olsen has also suggested close similarities between Freyr and Peko and

their associations with fertility and horses.87 Gunnell also draws a parallel between bark

costumes in Scandinavian folk customs with the story of Gunnar and Freyr.88 In this light, the

reference to “drinking to yule” and “playing Freyr’s leikr” could refer to participation in a drama

involving costumes and or processions in honor of Freyr. Such dramas could have been related

to Skírnismál, which also seems to take place in the dark time of the year, demonstrates Freyr

merging sexually or potentially wedding the earth, and when acted out, involves a procession.89

Richard North adds “The vocabulary of Skírnismál is so loaded with hints of natural processes

that its primary meaning must inevitably be agrarian: this poem reflects a drama enacted by the

persons of Freyr, Skírnir and Gerðr through which difficult land is prepared for planting and

harvest.”90 Further associations between straw figures and yule can perhaps also be seen in the

“straw figures given a seat of prominence in farmhouses during the Christmas festival, and given

offerings of beer and schnaps in parts of Sweden, Norway and Finland.”91

Elsewhere, Freyr is described as the recipient of yuletide sacrifices:

King Heiðrek worshipped Freyr, and he used to give Freyr the biggest boar he

could find. They regarded it as so sacred that in all important cases they used to take the

oath on its bristles. It was the custom to sacrifice the boar at the “sacrifice of the herd”.

On Yule Eve, the “boar of the herd” was led into the hall before the king. Then men laid

their hands on his bristles and made solemn vows.92

While the worship of Freyr during the yule season almost certainly had to do with the

fertility cult and the return of the sun, we will see other customs that share similarities

85

Gunnell, 1995, pp. 100-107. 86

Lid, 1928, p. 156. 87

Olsen, 1915, pp. 111-115. 88

Gunnell, 1995, p. 101. 89

Gunnell argues that the play was originally a drama, and in reenacting it, has demonstrated it must have involved movement between Freyr, to Gerð, and back to Freyr. 90

North, 1997, p. 253. 91

Gunnell, 1995, p. 104. 92

Heiðreks konungs en vitra, in Fornaldarsögur Norðurlanda, 1829, p. 531. Originally found in the Hauksbók.

(processions, costumes) during this time that have more to do with the more liminal aspects that

are associated with the yule season, such as the character of Óðinn. While the blót in Hákonar

saga góða links Óðinn with the king, and this likely was exactly where the center of his cult

resided, the yule season holds other elements that one can easily see Óðinn presiding over.

As has been stated previously, winter was a time when “this world and the other” seem to

have been blurred, and was a time for observing omens, 93 a continuation of the customs

associated with the start of winter. This would have been a time where the Dísir were still seen

as being close, having recieved sacrifices only a few months prior, and whose protection was

counted on for the remainder of the winter. This was a time which Gunnell argues was strongly

associated with women, who ruled the domestic sphere, and wore the house storage keys as the

symbol of this status.94 From the earliest references to the religion of the Germanic tribes by

Latin historians in the first centuries, women are considered to be the sex connected to magic,

prophecy, and death.95 Óðinn, sharing all of these characteristics and being the patron of kings

and warriors, can very well be seen as developing a role where he presides over yule under the

name of Jólnir, and in some places leading what comes to be known as the Christmas “Wild

Hunt”.96 This connection may have to do with his position at the center of the cult of the

berserkr and ulfheðnar,97 which are often associated with images of warriors dressed in animal

skins, and wielding weapons or dancing. The tradition of dressing in animal skins, wearing

horns, and dancing with weapons can be traced back to the Bronze Age at least, where figures

wearing bull horns are carved into stones, and the bronze, horned helmets found at Viksø.98

Images of figures in bear or wolf costumes, and accompanied by a horned, often dancing figure

are also found at Suttun Hoo (6-7th century)99 and Torslunda Ölund (6-7th century),100 on the

Gallehus horns (Dk 400 AD),101 and on the Oseberg tapestry (Vestfold Norway, 9th century).102

An image reminiscent of these can be found on the ceiling of the Hagia Sophia in Kiev when it

93

Gunnell, 2005, p. 295. 94

Gunnell, 2005, pp. 295-298. 95

The Geography of Strabo III, Bk. 7, ch 2; see also The Histories, p. 247. 96

Simek, 2007, p. 380. 97

For example, Heimskringla, p. 8; Price 2002 also makes a strong case for their connection to shamanism and gives them a solid position within the realm of Óðin´s cult. 98

http://natmus.dk/en/historical-knowledge/denmark/prehistoric-period-until-1050-ad/the-bronze-age/the-viksoe-helmets/ 99

Arent, 1969, plates 19-21. 100

Magnusson, 1976, p. 109. 101

Olrik, Axel, 1918, pp. 1-35. 102

Price, 2002, p. 385.

was built in 1037.103 It depicts a masked warrior standing near a second man with a mustache,

round shield and an axe, The fresco has been identified as depicting the Varangian Guard; an

elite force of Scandinavian warriors who served the Emperor in Constantinople from the 10th to

the 14th centuries.104 An account that might give life to these images is given by Constantine VII

Porphyrogennetos, in 953; where he describes what he calls the “Gothikon”; an elaborate

Christmas time dance performed by warriors of supposed Scandinavian origin. The account

describes “skin-clad warriors who wore various masks” who danced in circles around their

leaders, while others clashed what were either staves or axes against their shields and chanted a

word that Constantine can only describe as sounding like “Toúl!” Most scholars readily agree

that this word should be identified as Old Norse jól (Gothic: jiúleis).105 This account could put a

seasonal ritual context to the long history of images portraying mask and skin clad dancers. An

association with the cult of Óðinn would also provide the appropriate context for yule tide

dances or other rituals involving animal skins, and an association with “the wild”, or “frenzy”. A

tradition which parallels this is that of visitations from “the wild”, not by humans, but by the

dead, or by dangerous supernatural entities.

Eyrbyggja saga tells a story about how a farm at Fróða on Breiðafjörður is overtaken at

yule by the ghosts of various people who have died both on land and at sea.106 In another saga,

Grettír Ásmundsson gets into a fight with the draugr of a dead shepherd, and then has a conflict

with the troll-woman of Barðárðalur. Both of these events take place at yule.107 Other stories

tell of visits from berserker warriors (directly connecting them to this tradition of “the outside

coming in”) and even of a polar bear threatening people’s house.108 The Juleskreia, or Oskereia

is a widespread motif throughout Norway and Sweden during the Middle Ages and later in

which groups of malevolent spirits, described as either the dead, or as trolls, ride down out of the

mountains and into the farmsteads around the time of the winter solstice. Often these figures

take the form of women on horses.109 Terry Gunnell has remarked that the theme of unwelcome

yule guests has survived in Iceland into the current time, but that the exact nature of the “guests”

has changed from what were originally ghosts or trolls, to what are often elves or huldurfolk

103

Berthold, 1972, pp. 225-226; and Gunnell, 1995, p. 71. 104

Davidson, 1976, pp. 180, 186, and 191; Gunnell, 1995, p. 72. 105

Gunnell, 1995, pp 73-74. 106

Eyrbyggja saga, 1985, pp. 146-147. 107

The Complete Sagas of the Icelanders, 1997, II, pp. 100-107 and 151-155. 108

The Complete Sagas of the Icelanders, 1977, pp. 77-81 and 83-85. 109

Gunnell, 1995, p. 100.

today.110 Yule traditions regarding the julebukk and its female counter part, lussi have survived

into the modern period in Sweden and Norway, and have many parallels throughout Scandinavia,

continental Europe with the Austrian krampus and Swiss perchten.111 These traditions have

many varieties but all involve people dressing in furs and wearing goat or animal horns, and

processing through town, either demanding food and drink, or generally acting crude or

menacing. The julegeit was a spirit that was said to dwell in the mountains and come down into

the farmstead around the winter solstice. The Icelandic Grýla is first mentioned in Íslendinga

saga in the 13th century, and has survived until modern times, where she dwells in the Icelandic

mountains, and feeds on children during the yule season.112 How old these traditions are in truth

cannot be determined, but they are widespread, and can´t have any Christian origin. When we

look at them through the context of the yule season as a liminal period where the veil between

“the other world” and this world is thin, then they make sense.

There is one final element which we might add to the yule season, and it connects to the

idea of winter being associated in part with the sphere of women. While in some instances, the

Wild Hunt is a sort of furious host led by Óðinn; it is also often portrayed as female, as we have

seen with the oskereia. Likewise these female figures are often portrayed as riding horses and

wielding weapons, and may have become blended with the valkyrja concept at some point. The

Dísir have also been portrayed on horses and wielding weapons above, and at times their

function overlaps with that of the valkyrja.113 As stated above, they are also associated Freyja, or

else with Skaði, who is also known to done male armor and weapons, and is associated with the

masculine sport of hunting. In Gylfaginning, Snorri describes her as dwelling in the mountains,

and hating the dwelling of her husband, Njörðr, who we may say was an important figure in

trade and war (aspects firmly rooted in men’s sphere).114 It would not be so farfetched to see

Skaði as a winter goddess, who represents the mountains and winter, and who must rotate her

dominion with her husband, who rules the affairs of civilization. Lotte Motz argues for an

additional element to the custom of dressing in skins during the yule season by posing that the

110

Gunnell, 2004. 111

Motz, 1984. 112

Gunnell, 2001. 113

See the First Merseburg Charm (Simek, 2007, p. 84.) fヴoﾏ aHout 9ヰヰ, ┘heヴe the さidisiざ aヴe desIヴiHed Hiﾐdiﾐg ┘aヴ hosts iﾐ fetters while setting others free. The Valkyrja are also described in this same role. 114

Snorra Edda, 2003, pp. 37-38.

roots stem from the custom of hunting for prey in the wilds during the winter season.115 She

argues that in a hunting society, a midwinter feast held in honor of a goddess of the wilderness

such as Skaði would make sense. I would postulate that if she is a goddess of winter and

wilderness, then the period where the wilderness has come down out of the mountains and over

the fields and farms is a period when she has “come down out of the wilderness”, essentially to

the world of men. Skaði is never portrayed leading a furious host; but in Germany Frau Holle,

who is also seen as a winter goddess who rules the wilderness, is often put at the head of such a

host.116 Whether or not there ever was belief in a “host” in heathen times is up to debate, but the

notion of the barriers between the “outside” and the “inside” blurring is widespread.

Additionally, it is possible that a goddess like Skaði or Holle who represented the wilderness was

seen as coming down into the settlements during Midwinter and the yule season.

Summer and the Dísting

There is significantly less information regarding the celebrations and festivals that took place

during the summer half of the year, and they shall be covered in one section. When Bede

described the period of the vernal equinox in his calendar for the Angles, he explains:

Hrethmonath (around March) is named for their goddess Hretha to whom they sacrificed

at this time. Eostermonath (around April) has a name which is now translated “Paschal

month” and which was once named after a goddess of theirs named Eostre in whose

honor feasts were celebrated in that month. Now they designate that Paschal season by

her name, calling the joys of the new rite by the time honored name of the old

observance.”117

Neither Eostre nor Hretha have cognates in the Norse language, and it has been suggested that

they may have been the names of matronae whom the Angles worshiped with festivals during

the lunar months of Hrethmonath and Eostermonath respectively.118 Richard North also notes

that Bede implies that Good Friday had replaced a heathen festival, and suggests that this festival

would have coincided approximately with the Greco-Roman Megalensia, which was an ancient

festival celebrating the mother goddess Cybele with feasting and games.119 I suggest in turn that

the festivals in honor of Eostre took place during the full moon of Eostermonath, and that she 115

Motz, 1984, p. 159. 116

Motz, 1984. 117

Bede: The Reckoning of Time, 1999, p. 53. 118

North, 1997, p. 227; Meaney, 1966, pp. 2-8. 119

North, 1997, p. 228.

may have either been a matron associated with fertility, or else a mother goddess related to

processional ceremonies similar to those of Nerthus. The full account of Nerthus cannot be

covered here, but Tacitus describes a procession in which a wagon containing the idol of a

goddess was periodically taken from an island grove where it was kept, and processed by a priest

throughout the territories of the Swabians, around southern Jylland or Schleswig-Holstein.120

This account is interesting for several reasons. The priest and goddess were possibly thought of

as husband and wife, as Turville-Petre points out, or else the idol may be wed to the ‘earth’.121 It

also likely began in the early summer, as the procession would have taken some time to loop

through the territory. The idol is pulled by cattle, and is washed in a “secret lake”. The debate

over “who” Nerthus was has been an ongoing one, and I will make no attempts to contribute to

it, other than to demonstrate the complexity of the question. Lotte Motz has posed that the

worship of Nerthus was a local phenomenon, most closely tied to Frau Holle/Perchte.122 On

account of the masculine form of the name “Nerthus”, many scholars have argued that she may

have in fact been Njorðr, or as Eve Picard has suggested, the once feminine Nerthus became a

masculine Njorðr to make her physically consistent with the grammatical ending of her name.

Gunnell has suggested that she may have been a female counterpart to Njorðr, and at least

demonstrates close similarities to other fertility gods in later Scandinavian sources.123 Richard

North argues that Tacitus, who says “Nerthus, that is Terra Mater”, had originally been told

about a procession in which a god named Nerthus went on a procession over “Terra Mater.” Not

that she was Terra Mater. He concludes that “Nerthus was male, Terra Mater was female and

Tacitus misunderstood his source.“124 Regardless of exactly who Nerthus was, it is generally

agreed that we see a procession between a God and a Goddess (either with an idol and a human

representative, or by an idol and the earth itself) and that perhaps this is a sort of symbolic

marriage between the heaven and earth to bring fertility to the soil. Stone petroglyphs depicting

processions and unearthed wagons demonstrate that such ceremonies may have taken place as far

back as the Bronze Age.125 We also see parallels with the procession of Freyr in later Sweden,

which took place sometime between midwinter and the beginning of spring. Both are

120

Ström, Nordisk hedendom, p 40. 121

Turville-Petre, 1964, p. 172; See further, Ström, 1985, p. 41; Gunnell, 1995 p. 54. 122

Motz, さThe Goddess Neヴthus: A Ne┘ AppヴoaIh.ざ ヱ99ヲ. 123

Picard, 1991, p. 164. 124

North, 1997, p. 20. 125

Djebjerg wagon, National Museet.

processions in which a deity in a wagon, and a priest possibly dressed in costume and

symbolising their spouse, process over the land in order to ensure rebirth and good growth.

Tacitus describes another goddess that might be related:

Some of the Suevi also sacrifice to Isis. Of the occasion and origin of this foreign rite I

have discovered nothing, but that the image, which is fashioned like a light galley,

suggests an imported worship.126

About the year 1133, at a forest near Inden (Germany), a ship was built on land and drawn

throughout the countryside, where it was greeted with celebrations, and dancing. A detailed

report of the procession can be found in Rodulf‘s Chronicon Abbatiae S. Trudonis.127 In the

account, it is declared by the clergy that “malevolent spirits lived in the ship” and that the ship

must be dedicated to Venus, Mars, Neptune or Bacchus. Obviously we can assume the names

refer to Germanic gods, and the same can also be said for Tacitus’ reference to Isis above. That

ship processions at the beginning of spring were common throughout Germany can be seen in

the Minutes of the town-council of Ulm, dated 1530 which prohibit dressing in costume and

processing with plows or ships.128 Regarding Tacitus reference to “Isis”: it may have reminded

him of the annual Navigium Isidis which took place annually in early March during his time, in

which the Romans held a procession involving a ship dedicated to Isis to mark the reopening of

the rivers.129 This does not mean that the deity worshiped by the Suebians held anything further

in common with Isis than an annual ship procession in early spring. The deity could have been

connected with Freyja, who has considerable similarities to Isis, or another similar goddess, such

as Nehalennia, whose name has been inscribed on numerous votive altars around the 3rd century,

and who is often portrayed bearing baskets of fruit and leaning against the prow or an oar of a

ship.130 Scholars have tried interchangeably connecting Freyja, Nerthus, Nehalennia, and Isis to

the various customs above. It is likely that as customs changed with place and time, so too did

the deities associated with them. In the sources provided we have been able to discern a very

clear pattern of wagon and ship processions, often associated with goddesses and fertility, taking

place in the spring; especially in mainland Europe. I argue that these would have been

126

Germania, 1970, pp. 108-109. 127

Grimm, 2012, p. 259. 128

Cited by Grimm , 2012, pp. 263-265. 129

Grimm, 2012, p. 258; Stalleybrass, citing Apuleius and Lactantuis, two writers later than Tacitus, reporting on a custom that reached back to a much older date. 130

Simek, p. 228.

associated with festivals that took place on either the full or new moon following the vernal

equinox, marking the beginning of summer.

Another specific festival which we may study is called the Dísting, and occured during

the Swedish month of Göja, and has continued in Christian form into recent centuries, although

it has preserved it´s heathen name. Snorri mentions it in In Óláfs saga helga:

It was an ancient tradition in Sweden, during heathen times, to hold a main sacrifice in

Uppsala in the month of Gói (18th feb-24 march). At that time, a sacrifice was made for

peace and victory for the king, and people from all over Sweden were supposed to come

there. There was also a market, which lasted for a week. But when Sweden became

Christian…the market was moved and held at Candlemass.131

Two centuries prior, in the 1000’s, Adam of Bremen describes the temple at Uppsala as

housing the statues of Thor, Wotan, and Frikko (Freyr), he also describes an event that occurred

every 9 years at this location,132 which appears to have been a specialized version of the Disting,

which took place every year. Many of the details he describes would thus also match the annual

event. Saxo Grammaticus claims that the event centered on the worship of Freyr,133 and both

Adam of Bremen and Saxo refer to “unseemly” dances and songs.134 Saga of King Heidrek the

Wise describes King Ingi refusing to sacrifice at a Þing assembly in Sweden at this time. The

king’s kinsman takes up the role, and a horse is slaughtered and hanged from a tree.135 Gautreks

saga and Saxo both also describe King Vikar being hanged at a Swedish þing. The Swedish

Upplandslög mentions the ‘Disaþinx fr þær’ (truce of the Disaþing) in force during time of

Disaþing, a legal meeting that began on Disaþings dagur (The Day of the Disaþing). The law

clause also mentions the market of the Dísting.136 The worship of the Dísir at this event is never

specifically mentioned. There are however, references to a Dísarsalur, in two separate

sources.137 Both references use the singular Dísar, instead of the plural Dísir. The hall was thus

dedicated to a single Dís, perhaps Freyja or another known goddess. With this being the extent

of our insite into the connection between the Dísir and the Dísaþing, we are left with conjecture.

131

Óláfs Saga Helga, in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 292. 132

The history of the Archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen, 1959. 133

Gesta Danorum (History of the Kings of Denmark), 1931, Bk 5. 134

Saxo さHe had HeIoﾏe disgusted ┘ith the ┘oﾏaﾐish Hod┞ ﾏo┗eﾏeﾐts, the Ilatteヴ of aItoヴs…aﾐd the soft tiﾐkliﾐg of Hellsざ, p. 172; Adam-さThe iﾐIaﾐtatioﾐs Iustoﾏaヴil┞ Ihaﾐted iﾐ the ヴitual…aヴe ﾏaﾐifuold aﾐd uﾐseeﾏl┞ざ. Ch ヲ7. 135

The Saga of King Heidrek the Wise, 1960. 136

Upplandslagan, 1916, p. 169. 137

Ynglinga saga, in Heimskringla, 1944, p. 29; The Saga of King Heidrek the Wise, 1960, p. 63.

Gunnell and Ström138 both suggest that this event was originally centered around the cult of the

Dísir, and that the name was retained when it became supplanted by the masculine gods Freyr,

Þórr, and Óðinn. That this is possible is evident in the fact that it retained it‘s name even after it

was Christianized, even into modern times. Gunnell questions whether this original festival may

be explained as follows:

One wonders whether the concept…might be explained by every person having an

individual dís, a family thus having many, and the festival thus being dedicated to all of

these protecting spirits, the single head of which might have been Freyja, who bore

responsibility for the welfare of the whole nation.139

The suggestion is entirely theoretical, but it explains why, unlike the western Nordic

winternights, Dísablót, the Dísþing was a public, national event. I postulate that originally the

event had been a local festival and market dedicated to the Dísir of the gathered people, and that

at some point the aristocracy took control and placed the more national gods at the center.

Regarding when the Dísting took place, Adam of Bremen places the event at the the

vernal equinox, near the first days of summer in the lunisolar calendar. Snorri places it during

the Icelandic Gói, and then explains that it was moved to Candlemass. Nordberg explains that

Snorri misunderstood his source,140 noting that the Swedish Göja occured later than the Icelandic

Gói. To his mind, Adam’s placement is more accurate, falling right in the middle of the Göja,

around the time of the full moon. That the Dísting continued to take place during the full moon

of the later Swedish Dístingstungel even after it was moved and Christianized indicates it took

place during the full moon.141 We can confidently move it back to the older, Swedish Göja. The

Dísting market and festival originally would have occurred during the full moon nearest the

vernal equinox, in the middle of Swedish Göja, Bede’s Hrethmonath. It is interesting to note

that this moon occurs a month prior to Eostermonath, and may give credence to Bede’s

suggestion that goddesses were also worshiped during the two months encompassing the vernal

equinox.

We have scant sources that may reliably give us any picture for what sorts of festivals

took place during the heathen midsummer. We know that this time would be important for

138

Ström, 1954, p. 54; Gunnell, 2000 p. 134. 139

Gunnell, 2000, p. 135. 140

Nordberg, 2006, pp. 107-110. 141

See part 1.

regulating the lunisolar cycle, and we know that Ólafr Tryggvason moved what had been

drinking festivals during this time to Saint John’s Mass. Bonfires have long been associated with

midsummer in Scandinavia, and in western Norway they tend to take place around Saint John’s

Day, featuring mock marriages called Jonsokbryllup (Jonsok Weddings).142 Maypoles have been

associated with midsummer and can be traced back to the middle ages, and in Sweden particular

they are still popular. While it is difficult to trace the origins of folk customs, we might see the

origins of the maypole in heathen tree/pole worship, as exemplified in the accounts of the Oak of

Jupiter (Thor),143 or the Irminsul,144which were both recorded in the 8th century, and have a

wider connection to the worship of trees among the heathen. Swedish petroglyphs from the

Bronze Age depict figures carrying or dancing around raised poles. At Frösö, the remains of a

tree surrounded by the remains of ritually deposited animals145 correlates with the description of

the Uppsala grove, and with the recent finds of posts at Upsalla surrounded by animal skeletons.

Throughout Sweden are tricorn stone monuments where ritual deposits and cooking took place,

and which Stefan Brink argues represented Yggdrasil or some more local cosmic tree. It is

therefore reasonable that, like the Halm-Staffan, and the procession of Freyr, the maypole and

pole or tree worship were a part of a common religious tradition. It’s also reasonable to assume

some or all of the above elements have played a part in whatever festivities may have taken place

on the full moon after the summer solstice. According to Íslendinabók, in the middle of the 10th

century the official Alþingi of Iceland took place “When ten weeks of the summer had passed,

and this had been made the law of the land the previous summer, but before this, men had come

one week earlier.”146 This makes the summer Alþingi dependent on the full moon of the month

beginning after the vernal equinox, if we go by the lunisolar calendar. However, it is probable

that by the time the Alþingi had been established, the shift in calendar from moons to weeks had

already begun to take place. While it is possible that Þing events in the middle of summer

similar to that of Iceland took place throughout Scandinavia, we must acknowledge that there is a

serious lack of evidence. While we may assert that there is a pattern of celebration and ritual, in

the form of bonfires, drinking, and pole or tree customs during the period of midsummer, it is

142

Gunnell, 1995, p. 136. 143

Robinson, 1916, pp. 62-64. 144

Scholz, 1972, p. 49. 145

Magnell & Iregren, 2010. 146

Íslendinga Sögur og Þættir, 1987, p. 52.

less certain as to whether there were ever large scale festivals as we have seen for the other

periods of the year.

In conclusion, the heathen Scandinavians reckoned time with a lunisolar calendar which

was tethered to the winter solstice, occurring between two months which were probably called

some variation of yule. This calendar was maintained by periodically inserting an extra lunar

month near the summer solstice. The natural year began on the winternights, which occurred or

were celebrated during the first full moon following the autumn equinox; and was split into four

quarters, which either began on, or were celebrated on the first full moon following an equinox

or solstice. It is likely that these were the times when annual festivals and religious observations

took place, and in the words of Nordberg, they likely “included rituals that alluded to, and in

ritual terms repeated, the cosmological creation.” We repeatedly find rituals that mention “ár ok

friðr”; something that Simek calls a “formula used in Germanic cult language.”147 Rituals such

as blót would have taken place at these times to mark, ensure, and maintain a successful year.

These festivals would have also incorporated any variety of political and local factors. If we

were to follow the seasonal events of a typical village in southern Sweden in 1000, we might see

something similar to what follows.

The veturnætur celebrations occur on the full moon after the autumn equinox. On those

nights, people pull into their homes, or go to the bigger estates of those who invite them. There

would be ritual drinking, and in the evenings, the ritual slaughter and feast of an animal

dedicated up to the Dísir, or to Freyr (or both). During the days there would be games,

especially at the larger gatherings, where ball games, tournaments, and horse fights might have

taken place. If there are public events, bigger rituals involving horses may be dedicated to Freyr,

and weddings would take place on farmsteads and at halls. The local Þing assemblies would

have been political, but religiously sanctified. In the month following veturnætur, farmsteads

would be slaughtering cattle, preparing their stores, brewing, and perhaps participating in

prophetic rituals or inviting established spámenn/konur to determing how they might better get

by the winter and the year to come. As the yule season proceeds and midwinter draws near,

which is to be celebrated on the full moon a couple weeks after the darkess night of the year,

one might not cross the fields of the homestead unless they must, for fear of tröll or draugr or

other supernatural perils; or they might leave offerings out to keep these spirits at bay; a practice

147

Simek, 2007, p. 18.

perhaps replaced by the painting of crosses on church doors in later years in Norway to keep the

Oskoriea at bay.148 The midwinter festivals might involve any number of processions or

ceremonies involving animal costumes, mock fighting, initiation rituals,149 and sacrifices to

Óðinn, Freyr, Skaði, Þór, Njorðr or whatever god’s cult is strongest in that region, as well as to

the dead. Shortly following midwinter, there might be processions for fertility spirits, most

notably Freyr, and there might be dramatic rituals performed to try and encourage the return of

the sun, and the softening of the earth. Processions of these sorts might continue through the

spring, and might involve female deities instead of Freyr. On the full moon closest to the spring

equinox, in the month of Göja, the whole area would come together to celebrate the Dísþing with

a market, dramas, games, and sacrifices the Dísir, or even one powerful, national Dís. The

public cults would also hold sacrifices and rituals dedicated Freyr or Óðinn or Þór. The summer

would bring hard work, travel, and trade. There might be rituals to Njórð, or Þór, or, as is always

the case, a region continued to hold particular rituals that centered around the gods that the local

shrines or hills or groves were dedicated to. Midsummer might be a time to celebrate the long

days, and there might be dancing, decorating and worshiping cult trees or pillars, and there might

be big bonfires. With the coming of autumn there would be the harvest, and the festivities

centered around that, before the full moon brought winternights and the next year. This is of

course, a fictional model, and a basic, vague one at that; but beyond the timeframes and general

themes associated with different times of the year, the nature of calendrical festivities would

have varied with time and place. That being said, this article as a whole is hopefully

comprehensive enough and establishes enough of a foundation that it will be of value in

reconstructing the heathen annual calendar within it’s own context, and will also serve as a map

or guide for any researcher trying to place recorded events in written sources into the proper

seasonal time frame.

148

Gunnell, 2000. 149

Jens Peter Schjødt, 2008.

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