have preceded the boar-crested helmet in Sweden, since one of the warriors on a helmet-plate from Vendel is shown wearing a kind of boar-mask, with a tusk protruding on one side. It is clear that some kind of boar-helmet had significance in Sweden and was treasured by the early kings. King Athils was said to possess a helmet called Hildigoltr, ‘battle pig’, and also to have had a heavy neck-ring called Sviagriss, ‘piglet of the Swedes’. He won another helmet called Hildisvin, ‘battle swine’, from his opponent, King Ali, and here we have the same name as that of the boar owned by Freyja.
When we are told that Freyja’s worshipper, Ottar the Simple, disguised himself as her boar, this might be explained by the donning of a boar-mask by the priest of the Vanir, who thus claimed inspiration and protection from the deity. Although the Vanir were not gods of battle, the protection which they offered would no doubt extend into time of war, and it is noticeable that both Tacitus and Beowulf stress the protective power of the emblem. This has been remembered in Cynewulf’s poem Elene, as Rosemary Cramp pointed out,2 when Constantine is said to sleep eofor cumble bep?ht, ‘over-shadowed’ or ‘covered by the boar-sign’ at the time when he received the vision of the symbol of Christ. He was thus under the protection of the old heathen sign, either on helmet or standard, when he had his revelation of the new power which was to replace the ancient gods.
Besides the horse and the boar, a third symbol which belonged to Freyr was that of the ship. He was said to have owned the ship Ski?bla?nir, a vessel large enough to hold all the gods, but able to be folded up when not in use and kept in a man’s pouch. This ship could travel at will in any direction, since it always got a favourable wind. It is possible that a cult ship was the base of this tradition, the kind of ship used in processions and folded up when not in use. There is abundant evidence for ships carried in processions and kept in churches in Scandinavia from the Middle Ages down to modern times, some of those from Denmark being used for ceremonies of blessing the fields,1 and it may be that here we have the tradition of Freyr’s sacred boat surviving in a Christian setting. The ship is another religious symbol which can be traced back to very early times in the north. Tacitus knew of a goddess of the Suebi whose symbol was a boat, and he identified her with Isis, which suggests that she was a fertility goddess. It is possible that the unknown ‘symbol’ of the goddess Nerthus was a ship, but of this we have no proof.
From the time of the Bronze Age onwards, the ship was used in many different forms in funeral ceremonies. Freyr himself had close associations with death and burial, as is emphasized by Snorri in Ynglinga Saga. Here we are told that Freyr’s own death was kept secret from the Swedes for three years, and during that time he lay in a great burial mound, with a door and three holes in the sides, into which gifts of gold, silver, and copper were placed by the priests. If images of the god were kept in some kind of tomb-like shrine, this may be the explanation of the statement in Heimskringla that two wooden men were taken from Freyr’s howe and one kept in Sweden while the other went to Thrandheim in Norway. In Iceland also some connexion was made between Freyr and burial mounds. In Gisla Saga a priest of Freyr died, and it was said that he was so cherished by Freyr that the god ‘would have no frost between them’, and so no snow nor frost ever lay on his mound.
The wooden man taken to Thrandheim emphasizes the idea of the cult carried westward, from Sweden to Norway. In Norway, farms, rocks, and fields bear Freyr’s name, and his worship was taken west again, by a few settlers who went to Iceland. Place-names suggest that his worship did not gain much ground there, for there are only three places known to be called after him. Memory of some of his worshippers however has survived in the Icelandic sagas. The Hrafnkell who was said to keep horses sacred to Freyr settled in the east in the early tenth century, but whether he was in fact a priest of Freyr, as represented in the saga about him, seems doubtful. A better known worshipper of the god was Thord Freysgo?i, son of Ozurr, mentioned in several sagas, whose family were known as the Freysgy?lingar, but we know no stories about him.
The title Freysgo?i was also borne by Thorgrim, whose death is described in Gisla Saga. He must have been named in honour of Thor, and was in fact the grandson of Thorolf of Most, the famous worshipper of the god. Thorgrim however made friends with Gisli’s family, married one of the daughters, became a blood-brother of the sons, and must have forsaken Thor for Freyr. His temple was in the north-west of Iceland. A man described as a priest of Freyr, though he does not seem to have borne the title, was Ingimund, the adventures of whose family are told in Vatnsd?la Saga. He is said to have been given a token with Freyr’s image on it by King Harald Fairhair, and to have come out to Iceland under the god’s guidance. He built a temple in Vatnsdale in the north-west. None were permitted to take weapons into it, and Ingimund was able to obtain a coveted sword from a Norwegian visitor who had unwittingly worn it when entering. Ingimund convinced him that he had angered the god, and must forfeit his weapon, and the sword became a valued heirloom in the family.
Another family of Freyr-worshippers is described in Viga-Glums Saga. They lived in the north, and their founder was Helgi the Lean, who claimed to be descended from King Frodi. When he came out to Iceland he is said to have thrown a boar and a sow overboard to guide him to land, which suggests that he worshipped Freyr, although we know he also invoked Thor, and that he was baptized as a Christian. His son Ingjald built Freyr a temple, the guardianship of which was inherited by Ingjald’s grandson, Glum, the hero of the saga. Glum and his mother also had the right to share in the crops grown in a certain field called Vitazgjafi, which stood near the temple and was apparently associated with the god. The name of this field has been interpreted as ‘certain giver’,1 and it must have been an especially fertile one. Things went badly for Glum, and when he was still a young man he forsook Freyr, and went over to the god of his mother’s family. It seems likely that this god was Odin, since his Norwegian grandfather gave him a spear and a sword which were said to be ‘lucky’ gifts and family treasures. Glum used the spear to slay an overbearing relative in the holy field after he had been denied his share of the grain from it, and so the field was defiled with blood, and the saga implies that Glum aroused Freyr’s anger by this deed of violence. He offended the god still further by turning one of Freyr’s faithful worshippers off his land, by harbouring his own son after he had been declared an outlaw, and finally by taking a misleading oath in the name of the gods, and thus breaking faith with them. In the end he was forced to leave his land, and this was thought to be on account of Freyr’s enmity. Indeed Glum was said to have had a dream that the god was sitting on a chair on the sea-shore, surrounded by a vast crowd, and that he refused to listen to the plea which Glum’s dead kinsmen were making on his behalf.
Thus it will be seen that the sagas have preserved memories of a fertility cult associated with Freyr which is strongly at variance with the battle cult of Odin. Its main lines agree with those of the cult of Nerthus as described by Tacitus centuries before. The ban against weapons in Freyr’s temples, his anger when blood is shed on his sacred land, the taboo against outlaws in his holy place, are all in accordance with his character as a bringer of peace, and we are reminded of the coming of Nerthus, when weapons were put away and peace reigned supreme. Freyr is linked also with the sun and the fruitful earth; a fertile field stands near his temple, and no frost is allowed to come between him and his faithful worshipper, while we are told also that he was connected with marriage and the birth of children. Like Nerthus, who was known as Mother Earth, and intervened in human affairs, Freyr was the deity who brought fertility to men. Freyr, again like Nerthus, inspired joy and devotion. Men rejoiced to share their possessions with him. Finally the dream of Freyr sitting on a chair by the sea reminds us of the god who sat in a wagon, and of Nerthus who journeyed round the land to answer men’s prayers. This side of Freyr’s cult is apparent in the story of Gunnar Helming, and it may be noted that the god’s worshippers in Thrandheim were eager to tell Olaf Tryggvason how their god
… talked to us also, and told us future happenings beforehand, and he gave us peace and plenty.
Flateyarbok, 1, 322
The impression made by the prose sources is that the worshippers of Freyr were in the minority in western Scandinavia, but that nevertheless they were remembered long after the cult had died out for the devotion which they gave their god.
