Chapter 33

Several appellations are proper names of men, bestowed on the evil spirit either as euphemisms or in good-natured pity, just as on homesprites (p. 504) and will o'wisps (p. 917). Such are the Engl. old Davy, old Nick (Nares sub v. Nicholas), though here there may also be an allusion to Hnikar (p. 488); the Dan. gammel Erik (p. 989); the Swiss kueni above may mean Kueni (Conrad, as the noisy ghost was called Kurt, p. 913n.); and is Benz (in Keisersb. teufel, Oberl. sub v.) Benno? (Burns's Nickie Ben?); a Bavar. Mucsel might come from Nepomuk, unless we prefer Schmeller's interp. 'sly sneak' 2, 546 (muger, s-muggle?); but hardly Stepchen from Stephen? Velten (Valentin) often stands for devil ('potz Velten!'), I suppose with an allusion to vâlant, p. 991; so does 'meister Peter, Peterchen, Peterle,' Ettn. unwürd. doctor 672, and this recalls nicknames for a thief-taker or constable, who is likewise called meister Peter or Hemmerlin, RA. 883, so that he lends a name to and borrows one from the devil, for the devil is 'hell's constable,' he binds and torments souls, and is called henker, diebhenker (Burns's auld Hangie). Now, as soldiers give their provost-marshal the nickname 'stepchen' too, it is worth considering whether stepfel may not come from the MHG. stempfel, Ms. 2, 2b, which again brings up the question of frau Stempe's spectral nature (p. 278). A record of 1177 (no. 71 in Seibertz) has Stempel as a proper name (see Suppl.).

Such grafting of the Devil on older native beliefs in spirits and semi-divine beings was altogether natural, as christian opinion held these to be diabolic, and the people tried to domesticate the outlandish Devil. Hence Fischart could call him butze (p. 506): 'may I become the very butze's if, etc.' Garg. 224a; and the same in Altd. bl. 1, 55. The skratti (p. 478) of ON. superstition hovers somewhere between woodsprite, devil and giant, and so is tröll (p. 526) a 'daemon' in this more comprehensive sense. (35) In the cursing formulas 'tröll hafi þik!' or 'tröll hafi þîna vini!' Nial. cap. 38, 'tröll hafi þik allan!' Kormakss. 188, 'tröll taki hann!' Orvarrodas. cap. 9, 'fara î trölla hendr!' Laxd. p. 230, it answers exactly to our Devil, yet also to the older and more pagan one: 'eigi þik gramir' or 'iötnar!' (p. 990-1). In Sæm. 39 we read: 'farþû nû þar smyl hafi þic!' It seems that Scandinavian sorceresses call the Devil urdar mânî (luna saxeti, Biörn sub v.), which I know of nothing to compare with. And as Loki is next of kin to Hel (p. 312), we find the Devil in close contact with Death (p. 854): 'den tiuvel and den tôt vürhten,' Frîd. 67, 9.

So far our survey of a great variety of names (from which however all merely Jewish ones, like Beelzebub, Asmodi, Belial etc., had to be excluded) has already shown an admixture of heathen ingredients, or betrayed a still older identity or similarity of christian and pagan beliefs. Apparently words like gram, unhold, and perhaps scado, can only have been applied to the heathens a hostile hateful spirit. Old was already said of giants, and could the more readily be used of the Devil. Wolf, raven, goat called to mind the animals that escorted heathen gods or were sacrificed to them. The designations hammer and bolt, and the northerly residence were, to say the least, in accord with heathen notions.

Let us try whether these results are likewise supported by the substance of the tales and tradition.

To the new converts the heathen gods were one and all transformed, not only into idols, i.e. false lying gods (galiuga-guþ, as Ulphilas advisedly renders idola), but into devils, i.e. fellows and partners in a rival kingdom, whose dominion was broken down, but yet even under retreat, put forth some power. Whoever clung to the ancient gods and sacrificed to them in secret, was a devil's servant, and his idolatry a downright diobol-geld (p. 38-9); formulas of abjuration were imposed, which quote in one category the devil and the once honoured gods. (36) In the AS. Laws deoflum geldan means simply to serve the old gods. This mode of thinking, which gave the ancient deities more than their due, could not always be avoided, so long as a belief in the reality of those gods was undestroyed in the hearts of men: the new doctrine could more easily take root and germinate by representing the old as odious and sinful, not as absolutely null; the christian miracles looked more credible when something supernatural was allowed to time-honoured heathenism too. This view found a precedent in the New Test. itself: the god Beelzebub of the O.T. had dropt into the class of devils. Long in the habit of regarding Jupiter, Mercury, Mars and Venus as diabolic beings, how could the converters, preaching christianity to our forefathers, have set Donar, Wuotan, Zio, Frouwa and the rest in any other point of view?

What is said and sung of the breaking of heathen images of gods entirely confirms the fact that the false gods were credited with some degree of diabolic activity. When thrown down, they compain, as demons, of the violence of the intruders (p. 498-9): Perun's image, which the men of Novgorod dragged through their streets and flung into the Volkhov, broke into wailings on the faithlessness of his former adorers. Olaf talks to the statue of Freyr (p. 657), and with Thôrr he has to stand a regular contest (p. 177). St. George compels Apollo's image to walk and speak, Geo. 33-35. Mars, a 'lügelîche got,' had prophesied at Rome the Saviour's birth, and when it took place, his image suddenly crumbled down: 'als der tievil dô verdolte den slac (tholed, suffered the blow) von himel sô grôzen, er fuor ze sînen genôzen (fared to his comrades) sâ verstôzen in die helle, dâ ist er gebunden sêre, daz er niemer mêre her ûz mac gereichen,' Maria 191-3. Darius writes to Alexander: if thou get the better of me, 'so mugen von himele mîne gote zo der helle wesen bote,' Alex. 2542, i.e. they have belied my confidence, and are devils. Medieval poetry is full of such statements. I have shown in ch. XXXI the way in which Wuotan, distorted into a Wuotunc and wütende (furious) hunter, appearing at the head of the Wild Host, was made a devil of (p. 920). That is why the Devil is called helle-jager, Mart. 62d. 174d: 'er rûschte als der tiuvel in dem rôre,' MsH. 3, 187a; 'als in (him) der tiuvel jagete,' Livl. chr. 96b. Our folktales make him either ride a black steed, or drive in a magnificent car (Mone's Anz. 8, 184) like Wuotan and like Donar.

Wuotan was known as the god and inventor of gaming, and of dice in particular (pp. 150. 160): it was he that gave the all-winning die to Player Jack in the fairytale. But very commonly dice-playing is ascribed to the devil, in folktales he looks on at the game, especially if played during divine service on Sunday, and he plays with men, who have to stake thier own souls; (37) in witch-trials he is called Schenzerlein, (38) dicer, from schanzen to throw dice, Schm. 3, 374; and he lies in wait for gamblers, Renn. 11316 seq.

Judaism has devils, but knows nothing of she-devils; all power for good or evil it places in the hands of male beings (p. 396). To put it still more generally: gods are altogether the older, and a strict Monotheism or Dualism recognises gods alone; it is in the mellower fulness of Polytheism that goddesses first emerge. The Teutonic paganism, like others, is fond of female deities and elves: even the Goth. vaíhts (genius) is feminine (p. 439). Divine mothers, bright benignant dames, norns, valkyrs, wood-wives, water-maidens, formed a main part of the religion: only kobolds and home-sprites are exclusively male; the very giantesses are often lovely in mien and manners, and the world of the dead is ruled by a goddess.

Following this general tendency, as a negative must run on the lines of the positive, it was Teutonic to the core for Ulphilas to translate daimonion by unhulþô, and not to form a neuter, which would have been just as easy. To the converted Goths this feminine unholda fills the place of what their fathers had believed in as Holda.

It is no slight confirmation of the diabolic nature of Grendel in Beowulf, that he has a mother at his elbow, one with even more of the giant in her than he; that she tries to avenge his death, and the hero's exploit is not complete until her discomfiture: Grendel's môdor 2517-64. 3076. It is a very ancient feature in our nursery-tales, that in the Devil's dwelling sits likewise his grandmother (mother, or sister), and when the hero turns in for shelter, she takes pity on him and befriends him against the monster, Kinderm. 1, 152. 2, 188 devil's grandmother (ellermutter, great-grandm.). Oðinn taunts the Vala with being 'þriggja þursa môðir,' Sæm. 95b. The human guests usually arrive while the devil is out, they are then concealed by her, and smelt out by the son on his return. So Thôrr and Týr come into giant Hýmir's house, where they find his 900-headed grandmother (amma) and another female, his sweetheart, who hides them under the cauldron, Sæm. 53a. The Indian giant too has a soft-hearted sister living with him (p. 459). Now those stories of the devil were known here in the 13^th cent.; a poem of the Cod. Vindob. 428 no. 154 contains the words: 'der donr slahe uns beide! der tiuvel brâhte mich zuo dir, und dich sîn muoter her ze mir,' his mother brought you to me; 'mit des tiuvels muoter wette loufen,' run a race with; Wahtelmære 108: 'ist diz der tufel daz hie vert (rides), oder sîn muoter, oder sîn sun?' Herb. 7729; 'der tufil adir sîn eldirmuoter.' Altd. bl. 1, 264; 'des teufels muoter,' Cl. Hätzl. 219, 16; and in Margareta v. Limburg she plays an important part (Mone's Anz. 4, 166). We see that she is by turns represented as all that is bad, outdoing even her son, and again as of a gentler disposition: 'a widower a widow wedded, the devil to his dam was added' (things got worse) says Burc. Waldis. 138a; 'kam nicht der Mansfelder, der teufel mit seiner mutter' (omnia mala simul), Berl. kal. 1844 p. 298: 'to swear one of the hangman's grandam's legs off,' Simplic. 2, 254; 'I fear me not, were it the devil and his dam.' (39)---- And this subject again contributes popular explanations of natural phenomena: a sure indication of old myths in the background. When rain and sunshine rapidly suceed each other, it is said as a proverb, 'the devil bleaches his grandmother (de düvel blekt sin möm)': in Switzld. 'the devil beats his mother,' Tobler 294a (also, the heathen hold a hightide); of a brown complexioned man, 'he's run out of the devil's bleaching ground (he is dem düvel ût der bleke lopen)'; if it thunders while the sun shines, the devil beats his mother till the oil comes.' (40) In Nethl., 'de duivel slaat zyn wyf,' and ' 'tis kermis in de hel (nundinae sunt in inferno).' In Fr., 'le diable bat sa femme,' when it rains amid sunshine (Tuet's Proverbes no. 401). In connexion with this ought to be taken the explanation of crackling fire (p. 242) and of earthquake (p. 816-7). The last quotation names the wife instead of the mother, like the iötun's frilla in Hýmis-qviða; and Hagene says of Brunhild, who made him feel uncomfortable, 'jâ sol si in der helle sîn des übelen tiuvels brût (bride)', Nib. 426, 4. A Greek, seeing giant Asprian grind fire out of stones, cries out, 'heir veret des tuvelis brût,' Roth. 1054; just as another giant's (the Wind's) bride fares along (p. 632). Percuna tete (p. 173) washes her son the Thunder-god in a bath: this is the Bavarian 'anel with her ley' (p. 641). In Austria they tell (Ziska pp. 14-16), of the devil's franel (= ver anel), how she felt dull in hell, and came for a change to the Highlands (Up. Austria), where she got her son to build her a castle near the Danube, imagining the people would worship her as much as the virgin Mary; but as no one wanted her and the people laughed at her, she was enraged, and threw a huge piece of rock with a part of her castle into the Danube, at the spot now called wirbel and strudel, and the ruins of her house are still named the devil's tower; conf. p. 592 on whirlpools. I suppose no one can doubt that all these notions date from heathen times (41) (see Suppl.).

Private sacrifices, intended for gods or spirits, could not be eradicated among the people for a long time, because they were bound up with customs and festivals, and might at last become an unmeaning harmless practice. We have seen how a clump of ears was left standing in the field for Wuotan or dame Gaue, and a bushel of oats was presented to Death or the Wild Hunter. This the clergy of an older time would at once have set down as deoflum geldan (Leges Wihtrædi 13). It is certain that the centuries immediately following the conversion still witnessed lighted candles beside holy waters (p. 584). In Norway lambs and kids, mostly black ones, were offered to the watersprite (p. 493); and similar sacrifices were in use among the Lettons and Lithuanians in modern times. Whirlpools and rivers demanded goats and horses (p. 592), Hecate black lambs. In a Hessian folktale the Devil guards a treasure, and will allow no one to lift it unless he offer to him a black he-goat exactly a year and a day old. This is an almost invariable incident in treasure-lifting, and must have been deeply stamped on the people's imagination. To the examples given at p. 977 I will add one from the mouth of the peasantry in L. Saxony. Whoever goes into the forest on Shrove Tuesday and sits down under a harrow, may look on at everything, the beasts rushing through the wood, the king on his car with foxes (sorrel horses?) going before him, and whatever there is to be seen that night. A shepherd who knew this and wished to try it, went and sat under the harrow in the wood, and looked through the holes; then, when the devilry was over, he tried to creep out again from under the harrow, but he sat fast, and the Devil stood beside him, shewing his teeth: 'have you got a black sheep,' said he, 'on that is coalblack all over? Give it me, and you'll get loose.' The shepherd lay there till daylight, then some people passing through the wood tried to set him free, but could not, so he had his black sheep fetched, the Devil took it and flew up in the air with it, and the shepherd got loose. Black cocks were also sacrificed (Dieffenbach's Wetterau 279), but there must not be a white feather on them, Bechst. 4, 207. Little men of the mountain can also be conjured up, if you place a new table for them, and set two dishes of milk, two of honey, two plates and nine knives upon it, and kill a black hen, DS. no. 38. Guibertus (vita 1, 24) speaks of a cock-sacrifice that was still in use in France: 'diabolo gallo litare, ita ut ovum de quo concretus est, die Jovis, mense Martio, in gallina constet expositum;' the cock was roasted, and carried to the pond (i.e. to a watersprite again). In H. Sachs iii. 3, 13c a man says he will cover two old women with bear skins, stick them all over with green lozenges, and give them to the Devil on new-year's day. In Burcard Waldis 150a we read of 'sending the soul stuck over with may (or birch) to the Devil' (42) To light a candle to the Devil (Schweinichen 2, 54) is preserved to this day as a proverbial phrase. Drink-offerings to the highest gods of heathenism must after the conversion have appeared devilish. At p. 56 was mentioned the kufe (cask, bowl?) out of which our ancestors drank Wuotan's minne; perhaps even 'Saturni dolium' (pp. 126, 247) was no bath, but a drinking vessel. It seems worth nothing, that in an AS. sermon the words in 1 Cor. 10, 20 'non potestis calicem Domini bibere et calicem daemoniorum,' which Ulphilas renders verbally (ni maguþ stikl Fránjins drigkan jah stikl skôhslê), are thus expressed: 'ne mage ge samod drincan ures Drihtnes calic and þæs deofles cuppan,' so that 'cuppe' was the technical name of the heathen vessel. People still say, if you leave anything in your glass, that you are sacrificing to the Devil (Garg. 43b). But there is also ground for maintaining that a devil's or hell's bath was believed in, as we saw before: 'ze helle baden,' Welsch. gast 105a; 'to get into the Devil's bathroom' (Sastrow's Life 1, 11) means the height of distress. Popular legend often speaks of devil's baths (see Suppl.).




Notes: