Chapter VI

In reference to Ygdrasil, we refer our readers to Norse Mythology, pp. 205-211, and to Thomas Carlyle’s Heroes and Hero-worship.

A connection between the norns Urd, Verdande and Skuld and the weird sisters in Shakspeare’s _Macbeth_ has long since been recognized; but new light has recently been thrown upon the subject by the philosopher Karl Blind, who has contributed valuable articles on the subject in the German periodical “Die Gegenwart” and in the “London Academy.” We take the liberty of reproducing here an abstract of his article in the “Academy”:

* * * * * *

The fact itself of these Witches being simply transfigurations, or
later disguises, of the Teutonic Norns is fully established--as may
be seen from Grimm or Simrock. In delineating these hags, Shakspeare
has practically drawn upon old Germanic sources, perhaps upon
current folk-lore of his time.

It has always struck me as noteworthy that in the greater part of
the scene between the Weird Sisters, Macbeth and Banquo, and
wherever the Witches come in, Shakspeare uses the staff-rime in a
remarkable manner. Not only does this add powerfully to the archaic
impressiveness and awe, but it also seems to bring the form and
figure of the Sisters of Fate more closely within the circle of the
Teutonic idea. I have pointed out this striking use of the
alliterative system in _Macbeth_ in an article on “An old German
Poem and a Vedic Hymn,” which appeared in _Fraser_ in June, 1877,
and in which the derivation of the Weird Sisters from the Germanic
Norns is mentioned.

The very first scene in the first act of _Macbeth_ opens strongly
with the staff-rime:

_1st Witch_. When shall we three meet again--
In thunder, lightning or in rain?

_2d Witch_. When the hurly-burly’s done,
When the battle’s lost and won.

_3d Witch_. That will be ere set of sun.

_1st Witch_. Where the place?

_2d Witch_. Upon the heath.

_3d Witch_. There to meet with Macbeth.

_1st Witch_. I come, Graymalkin!

_All_. Paddock calls. Anon.
Fair is foul, and foul is fair.
Hover through the fog and filthy air.

Not less marked is the adoption of the fullest staff-rime--together
(as above) with the end-rime--in the third scene, when the Weird
Sisters speak. Again, there is the staff-rime when Banquo addresses
them. Again, the strongest alliteration, combined with the end-rime,
runs all through the Witches’ spell-song in Act iv, scene 1. This
feature in Shakspeare appears to me to merit closer investigation;
all the more so because a less regular alliteration, but still a
marked one, is found in not a few passages of a number of his plays.
Only one further instance of the systematic employment of
alliteration may here be noted in passing. It is in Ariel’s songs in
the _Tempest_, Act i, scene 2. Schlegel and Tieck evidently did not
observe this alliterative peculiarity. Their otherwise excellent
translation does not render it, except so far as the obvious
similarity of certain English and German words involuntarily made
them do so. But in the notes to their version of _Macbeth_ the
character of the Weird Sisters is also misunderstood, though
Warburton is referred to, who had already suggested their
derivations from the Valkyrs or Norns.

It is an error to say that the Witches in _Macbeth_ “are never
called witches” (compare Act i, scene 3: “‘Give me!’ quoth I.
‘A-roint thee, _witch_!’ the rump-fed ronyon cries”). However, their
designation as Weird Sisters fully settles the case of their
Germanic origin.

This name “Weird” is derived from the Anglo-Saxon Norn Wyrd (Sax.
_Wurth_; O.H. Ger. _Wurd_; Norse, _Urd_), who represents the Past,
as her very name shows. Wurd is _die Gewordene_--the “Has Been,” or
rather the “Has Become,” if one could say so in English.

* * * * * *

In Shakspeare the Witches are three in number--even as in Norse,
German, as well as in Keltic and other mythologies. Urd, properly
speaking, is the Past. Skuld is the Future, or “That Which shall
Be.” Verdandi, usually translated as the Present, has an even deeper
meaning. Her name is not to be derived from _vera_ (to be), but from
_verda_ (Ger. _werden_). This verb, which has a mixed meaning of “to
be,” “to become,” or to “grow,” has been lost in English. Verdandi
is, therefore, not merely a representative of present Being, but of
the process of Growing, or of Evolution--which gives her figure a
profounder aspect. Indeed, there is generally more significance in
mythological tales than those imagine who look upon them chiefly as
a barren play of fancy.

Incidentally it may be remarked that, though Shakspeare’s Weird
Sisters are three in number--corresponding to Urd, Verdandi and
Skuld--German and Northern mythology and folk-lore occasionally
speak of twelve or seven of them. In the German tale of
_Dornröschen_, or the Sleeping Beauty, there are twelve good fays;
and a thirteenth, who works the evil spell. Once, in German
folk-lore, we meet with but two Sisters of Fate--one of them called
_Kann_, the other _Muss_. Perhaps these are representatives of man’s
measure of free will (that which he “can”), and of that which is his
inevitable fate--or, that which he “must” do.

Though the word “Norn” has been lost in England and Germany, it is
possibly preserved in a German folk-lore ditty, which speaks of
three Sisters of Fate as “Nuns.” Altogether, German folk-lore is
still full of rimes about three Weird Sisters. They are sometimes
called Wild Women, or Wise Women, or the Measurers
(_Metten_)--namely, of Fate; or, euphemistically, like the
Eumenides, the Advisers of Welfare (_Heil-Räthinnen_), reminding us
of the counsels given to Macbeth in the apparition scene; or the
Quick Judges (_Gach-Schepfen_). Even as in the Edda, these German
fays weave and twist threads or ropes, and attach them to distant
parts, thus fixing the weft of Fate. One of these fays is sometimes
called Held, and described as black, or as half dark half
white--like Hel, the Mistress of the Nether World. That German fay
is also called Rachel, clearly a contraction of Rach-Hel, i.e. the
Avengeress Hel.

Now, in _Macbeth_ also the Weird Sisters are described as “black.”
The coming up of Hekate with them in the cave-scene might not
unfitly be looked upon as a parallel with the German Held, or
Rach-Hel, and the Norse Hel; these Teutonic deities being originally
Goddesses of Nocturnal Darkness, and of the Nether World, even as
Hekate.

In German folk-lore, three Sisters of Fate bear the names of Wilbet,
Worbet and Ainbet. Etymologically these names seem to refer to the
well-disposed nature of a fay representing the Past; to the warring
or worrying troubles of the Present; and to the terrors (_Ain_ =
_Agin_) of the Future. All over southern Germany, from Austria to
Alsace and Rhenish Hesse, the three fays are known under various
names besides Wilbet, Worbet, and Ainbet--for instance, as Mechtild,
Ottilia, and Gertraud; as Irmina, Adela, and Chlothildis, and so
forth. The fay in the middle of this trio is always a good fay,
a white fay--but blind. Her treasure (the very names of Ottilia and
Adela point to a treasure) is continually being taken from her by
the third fay, a dark and evil one, as well as by the first. This
myth has been interpreted as meaning that the Present, being blinded
as to its own existence, is continually being encroached upon,
robbed as it were, by the dark Future and the Past. Of this
particular trait there is no vestige in Shakspeare’s Weird Sisters.
They, like the Norns, “go hand in hand.” But there is another point
which claims attention Shakspeare’s Witches are bearded. (“You
should be women, and yet your beards forbid me to interpret that you
are so.” Act i, scene 3.)

It need scarcely be brought to recollection that a commingling of
the female and male character occurs in the divine and semi-divine
figures of various mythological systems--including the Bearded
Venus. Of decisive importance is, however, the fact of a bearded
Weird Sister having apparently been believed in by our heathen
German forefathers.

Near Wessobrunn, in Upper Bavaria, where the semi-heathen fragment
of a cosmogonic lay, known as “Wessobrunn Prayer,” was discovered,
there has also been found, of late, a rudely-sculptured three-headed
image. It is looked upon as an ancient effigy of the German Norns.
The Cloister of the three Holy Bournes, or Fountains, which stands
close by the place of discovery, is supposed to have been set up on
ground that had once served for pagan worship. Probably the later
monkish establishment of the Three Holy Bournes had taken the place
of a similarly named heathen sanctuary where the three Sisters of
Fate were once adored. Indeed, the name of all the corresponding
fays in yet current German folk-lore is connected with holy wells.
This quite fits in with the three Eddic Bournes near the great Tree
of Existence, at one of which--apparently at the oldest, which is
the very Source of Being--the Norns live, “the maidens that over the
Sea of Age travel in deep foreknowledge,” and of whom it is said
that:

They laid the lots, they ruled the life
To the sons of men, their fate foretelling.

Now, curiously enough, the central head of the slab found near
Wessobrunn, in the neighborhood of the Cloister of the Three Holy
Bournes, is _bearded_. This has puzzled our archæologists. Some of
them fancied that what appears to be a beard might after all be the
hair of one of the fays or Norns, tied round the chin. By the light
of the description of the Weird Sisters in Shakspeare’s _Macbeth_
we, however, see at once the true connection.

In every respect, therefore, his “Witches” are an echo from the
ancient Germanic creed--an echo, moreover, coming to us in the
oldest Teutonic verse-form; that is, in the staff-rime.

KARL BLIND.

ELVES. The elves of later times seem a sort of middle thing between the light and dark elves. They are fair and lively, but also bad and mischievous. In some parts of Norway the peasants describe them as diminutive naked boys with hats on. Traces of their dance are sometimes to be seen on the wet grass, especially on the banks of rivers. Their exhalation is injurious, and is called _alfgust_ or _elfblæst_, causing a swelling, which is easily contracted by too nearly approaching places where they have spat, etc. They have a predilection for certain spots, but particularly for large trees, which on that account the owners do not venture to meddle with, but look on them as something sacred, on which the weal or woe of the place depends. Certain diseases among their cattle are attributed to the elves, and are, therefore, called elf-fire or elf-shot. The dark elves are often confounded with the dwarfs, with whom they, indeed, seem identical, although they are distinguished in Odin’s Raven’s Song. The Norwegians also make a distinction between dwarfs and elves, believing the former to live solitary and in quiet, while the latter love music and dancing. (Faye, p. 48; quoted by Thorpe.)

The fairies of Scotland are precisely identical with the above. They are described as a diminutive race of beings of a mixed or rather dubious nature, capricious in their dispositions and mischievous in their resentment. They inhabit the interior of green hills, chiefly those of a conical form, in Gaelic termed _Sighan_, on which they lead their dances by moonlight; impressing upon the surface the marks of circles, which sometimes appear yellow and blasted, sometimes of a deep green hue, and within which it is dangerous to sleep, or to be found after sunset. Cattle which are suddenly seized with the cramp, or some similar disorder, are said to be _elf-shot_. (Scott’s Minstrelsy of the Scottish Border; quoted by Thorpe.)

Of the Swedish elves, Arndt gives the following sketch: Of giants, of dwarfs, of the alp, of dragons, that keep watch over treasures, they have the usual stories; nor are the kindly elves forgotten. How often has my postillion, when he observed a circular mark in the dewy grass, exclaimed: See! there the elves have been dancing. These elf-dances play a great part in the spinning-room. To those who at midnight happen to enter one of these circles, the elves become visible, and may then play all kinds of pranks with them; though in general they are little, merry, harmless beings, both male and female. They often sit in small stones, that are hollowed out in circular form, and which are called elf-querns or mill-stones. Their voice is said to be soft like the air. If a loud cry is heard in the forest, it is that of the Skogsrå (spirit of the wood), which should be answered only by a _He!_ when it can do no harm. (Reise durch Sweden; quoted by Thorpe.)

The elf-shot was known in England in very remote times, as appears from the Anglo-Saxon incantation, printed by Grimm in his Deutsche Mythologie, and in the appendix to Kemble’s Saxons in England: Gif hit wœre esa gescot oððe hit wœre ylfa gescot; that is, if it were an asa-shot or an elf-shot. On this subject Grimm says: It is a very old belief that dangerous arrows were shot by the elves from the air. The thunder-bolt is also called elf-shot, and in Scotland a hard, sharp, wedge-shaped stone is known by the name of elf-arrow, elf-flint, elf-bolt, which, it is supposed, has been sent by the spirits. (Quoted by Thorpe.)