wynna gewítað,
wera geswícað[[664]].
that is, “Ear is a terror to every man, when fast the flesh, the corpse beginneth to become cold and pale to seek the earth for a consort. Joy faileth, pleasure departeth, engagements cease.” It is clear that Ear, spica, arista, will not explain this, and we may believe that our forefathers contemplated the personal intervention of some deity whose contact was death. This may have been Tíw or Ear, especially in the battle-field, and here he would be equivalent to the Ἄρης βροτολοιγός μιαιφόνος of Homer.
More than this we shall hardly succeed in rescuing: but there yet remains a name to consider, which may possibly have tended to banish the more heathen one of Tíw. Among all the expressions which the Anglosaxons used to denote a violent death, none is more frequent than wíg fornam, or wíg gesceód, in which there is an obvious personality, Wíg (War) ravished away the doomed: here no doubt war was represented as personally intervening, and slaying, as in other similar cases we find the feminines Hild, Gúð, which are of the same import, and the masculines Swylt, Deáð, mors. The abstract sense which also lay in the word wíg, and enabled it to be used without offence to Christian ears, may have been a reason for its general adoption in cases where at an earlier period Tíw would have been preferred. Old glossaries give us the rendering Wíg Mars, and Hild, Bellona: it is therefore not at all improbable that these words were purposely selected to express what otherwise must have been referred to a god of perilous influence: Wíg was a more general, and therefore less dangerous name than Tíw, to recall[recall] to the memory of a people prone to apostasy. That the latter survived in the name of a weekday serves only to show that it was too deeply grounded to be got rid of; perhaps its very familiarity in that particular relation rendered it safe to retain the name of any deity, as was done by five out of the seven days. But Christianity was tolerant of heathen names in other than heathen functions, and in the genealogy of the kings of Wessex, Wíg is the father of Gewis, the eponymus of the race. I have already expressed my belief that this name represented either Wóden or Tíw, and think it very likely that it was the latter, inasmuch as the paganism of the Gewissas seems to have been remarkable, beyond that of other Anglosaxon tribes: “Sed Britanniam perveniens, ac primum Gewissorum gentem ingrediens, cum omnes ibidem paganissimos inveniret,” etc.[[665]] “Intrante autem episcopo in portum occidentalium Saxonum, gentem qui antiquitus Gewisse vocabantur, cum omnes ibidem paganissimos inveniret,” etc.[[666]] The events described are of the year 634. We find that Tíw enters into the composition of the names of a few plants[[667]]; on the other hand it is never found in the composition of proper names, any more than Tír; although now Tírberht or Tírwulf would seem quite as legitimate compounds as Eádberht, Sigeberht, Eádwulf, Sigewulf.
FREÁ, in Old-norse FREYR, in Old-german FRO.—The god whom the Norse mythology celebrates under the name of Freyer must have borne among us the name of Freá. It is probable that he enjoyed a more extensive worship in all parts of Europe than we can positively demonstrate. At present we are only enabled to assert that the principal seat of his worship was at Upsala among the Swedes. In general there is not much trace in the North of phallic gods; but an exception must be made at once in the case of Freyr. One of the most beautiful poems of the Edda[[668]] tells how Freyr languished for desire of the beautiful Gerdr; it was for her love that he lost the sword, the absence of which brings destruction upon him in the twilight of the Gods. The strongest evidence of his peculiar character is found in the passage already cited from Adam of Bremen[[669]], and what he says of the shape under which Frea was represented at Upsala: “Tertius est Fricco, pacem, voluptatemque largiens mortalibus; cujus etiam simulachrum fingunt ingenti Priapo.” The fertilizing rains, the life-bringing sunshine, the blessings of fruitfulness and peace were the peculiar gifts of Freyr[[670]]; and from Adam of Bremen again we learn that he was the god of marriage: “Si nuptiae celebrandae sunt, sacrificia offerunt Fricconi.” In his car he travelled through the land, accompanied by a choir of young and blooming priestesses[[671]], and wherever he came plenty and peace abounded. The beast sacred to Freyr was the boar, and it is not improbable that various customs and superstitions connected with this animal may have had originally to do with his worship. It is not going too far to assert that the boar’s head which yet forms the ornament of our festive tables, especially at Christmas, may have been inherited from heathen days, and that the vows made upon it, in the middle ages, may have had their sanction in ancient paganism. But it is as an amulet that we most frequently meet with the boar in Anglosaxon. Tacitus says of the Æstyi, that, in imitation of the Suevish custom, “Matrem deum venerantur; insigne superstitionis, formas aprorum gestant. Id pro armis omnium que tutela; securum deae cultorem etiam inter hostes praestat[[672]].” The relation between Freá and the Mater deorum is a near one. Now the Anglosaxon poems consider a boar’s form or figure so essential a portion of the helmet, that they use the word eofor, aperpart of the armour:
| hét ðá inberan eofor heáfordsegn, heaðosteápne helm. | he commanded them to bring in the boar (i. e. helmet) the ornament of the head, the helmet lofty in battle[[673]]. |
And still more closely, with reference to the virtues of this sign:
| eoforlíc scionon ofer hleor beran gehroden golde, fáh and fýrheard ferhwearde heóld. | the forms of boars they seemed above their cheeks to bear adorned with gold, various and hardened in the fire it held the guard of life[[674]]. |
And again:
| ac se hwíta helm hafelan werede, . . . . . . . . . since geweorðad, befongen freawrásnum, swá hine fyrndagum worhte wæpna smið, wundrum teóde, besette swínlícum, ðæt hine syððan nó brond né beadomecas bítan né meahton. | but the white helmet guarded the head, . . . . . . . . . adorned with treasure, set about with lordly signs, as it in days of yore the armourer made, wondrously produced, set it about with shapes of boars, that afterwards neither brand nor warknife might penetrate it[[675]]. |