| Alternate Names: | Tiw, Tir, Tyr, Saxnot, Sēaxneat, Cheru |
| Iconography: | The Eagle, Tir Rune, Sword/Seax, Spear |
| Domains: | War, Sea, Hunting, Rulership |
Table of Contents
Historical Attestation
Coming to a lore-based understanding of this once renowned deity is quite difficult, and sadly requires a great deal of conjecture. The name of Seaxneat, (Old Saxon ‘Saxnot’) is attested in only two places. Firstly, in the royal genealogy of the East-Saxons. Secondly, in the Saxon Baptismal Vow, that was enforced upon the Heathen Saxons at the conclusion of the Saxon Wars. This god is considered by most to be a tutelary god of the Saxon nation. The name (or perhaps title) of Tiw, is applied to the god remembered in Norse poetry as Tyr, the one-handed god who bound the wolf Fenrir.
Scholars are split on whether these figures represent two entirely separate gods, or if indeed one is an impulse of the other. We will here make the latter argument, and attempt to support it with as much evidence as possible.
To learn anything of the character of Seaxneat and his importance to the Ingwine of today, we must look far afield. Let us begin with an analysis of the name, Seaxneat. It would seem to be constructed of two word parts, seax- meaning “dagger or sword” and -neat, which is somewhat more difficult to parse. One widely accepted interpretation, is that this word part stems from the same root word as the Old English (ge)-nēat, which means “companion”, in the sense of a comrade in arms. From this, one might reasonably conclude that Seaxneat is a war-god, or at least a god with a martial aspect. Alas, no more is said in any surviving source about Seaxneat, so we must consider cognates, if we hope to attribute to him anything more than this. The linguist Heinrich Wagner in 1986 associated the word ge-nēat, with the name Nodens, alleging a shared root stemming from a word that means “to get, or make use of”. Nodens is an early continental version of the god who would become known as Nuadu, both stemming from Proto-Celtic noudent-, possibly meaning “to acquire [through hunting].”
Some scholars believe that this word is actually Germanic in origin, rather than Celtic, which is of interest to our study here. This word is traced in turn to Proto-Indo-European *neu-d-, and Wagner asserts this to be the shared origin of both Nuadu/Nodens, and ge-nēat.
Nodens is a fairly well attested god, who was invoked in matters of hunting, fishing, war, and perhaps healing. His cult had a center at Lydney Park in Gloucestershire, and also apparently, in Celtic Gaul, which is not too great a distance from the areas that would during the Migration Age be settled by Germanic peoples, such as the Cherusci, and their Ingvaeonic successor nation, the Saxons. His name is cognate to the Old Irish Nuada, who is said to have been a ruler, the first king among the divine tribe known as the Tuatha dé Danann. According to his Mythopedia page:
Nuada was a keen hunter and fisher, one of the most skilled among his people. A sensible ruler, he saw the potential in all members of his court. Generous and impartial, Nuada made fair laws for his people to obey, and he followed those laws himself, even when they proved disadvantageous. He possessed one of the Four Treasures of the Tuatha dé Danann, a sword that, once drawn, no one could escape from or defend against. This sword is often described as “glowing” or “bright”.
The characterization of his sword as being a weapon impossible to defend against, is of potential importance here, as we attempt to stitch together a picture of this being’s potential Germanic counterpart, the divine god-chieftain of the Saxons, Seaxneat. It is also worthy of mention, that Nodens/Nuada was characterized as fair-minded, skilled in providing through hunting, and a generous ruler. Also a key point for our purposes, is that Nuada was one-handed:
Nuadu’s hand was cut off in that battle—Sreng mac Sengainn struck it from him. So with Credne the brazier helping him, Dian Cecht the physician put on him a silver hand that moved as well as any other hand.
–Cath Maig Tuired, trans. By Elizabeth A. Gray
The enemy who severed his hand is given here as the Fir Bolg, Sreng. Interestingly, this Irish name is derived from Old Norse, Strengr, meaning a fetter, cord, or rope. The leitmotif of the magical sword’s wielder losing a hand (in one manner or another) is a theme we will explore in further depth later in this section.
Returning for now to the magical sword of Nuada, we will attempt to make another connection, that might further illuminate the matter, this time to the powerful, but ill-famed sword, Tyrfing. The etymology of this name is contested, but it is probable it does not stem from the name ‘Tyr’. I mention it here, because the themes of the Tyrfing Cycle brings to mind that of Nuada, thematically speaking. This magical blade was forged by dwarves in Norse mythology, and the narrative theme of this sword appears in the poem Hervararkviða, as well as in Hervarar saga. This cursed weapon was said to kill a man every time it was drawn, and gleamed like fire, bringing to mind the flashing blade of Nuada. However, perhaps unlike the treasure of the Tuatha dé Danann, this sword was destined to cause “three great evils” and was perilous to wield. In the Norse tale, King Svafrlami of Gardariki (a kingdom located in modern day Estonia and Russia) takes two dwarves hostage and demands they make him this treasure, to rival those the dwarves made for the Norse gods. They do so, but then curse the blade, saying it will be the death of Svafrlami.
Sure enough, in a subsequent battle with a berserker named Arngrim, the sword-hand of Svafrlami is severed, and the magic sword is taken by Arngrim. Again, the wielder of the magically potent sword is rendered one-handed.
This theme recurs in a version of the legend told by the German scholar Willhelm Wagner (not to be confused with the linguist Heinrich Wagner) who recounts how he learned of it in his native Germany:
Nearly related to the warlike Tyr, perhaps identical with him, were Heru or Cheru and Saxnot. They were essentially German sword-gods, and were not known to the northern skalds. Their worship was wide-spread; for the Alanes, Quades, Getes and Markomanns paid divine honours to the sword, and even the Scythians, as Herodotus tells us, planted it in a high pyramidal heap of brush-wood, and called upon it as the symbol of the divinity. Many legends are still in existence about it, one of which we give as an example.
Cheru’s sword was made in the mysterious smithy of the Dwarfs, whose artistic workmanship was celebrated among Ases and men. The sons of Iwaldi, who had made Odin’s spear, and Sindri, who had forged Miolnir, had united their efforts in making the mar- vellous weapon on which the fate of kings and nations was to hang.Asgard and the gods; tales and traditions of our northern ancestors (Willhelm Wagner, 1882)
Here we weave together two threads in the mythic tapestry of Seaxneat-Tiw; we establish that Cheru, almost certainly the primordial version of Saxnot and god-king of the Cherusci, was reputed to have a magical sword, somewhat in the mode of Tyrfing. Secondly, we begin to see how this god resembles in many respects and indeed is connected through mythology, with Tiw, or as he is called in Old Norse mythology, Týr. Let us address these connections one by one, in that order.
Regarding the magical sword, Wagner goes on to relate:
The zealous master-smiths worked busily within the earth, when Sokwabek was built under the flowing river, until at length the shining sword was completed, which Cheru the mighty god received. This sword shone every morning on the high-place of the sanctuary, sending forth its light afar when dawn arose, like a flame of fire ; but one day its place was empty and the rosy light of morning only shone upon the altar from which the god had disappeared.
Here we see the parallels between not only Tyrfing and the Sword of Cheru, but also between this sword, and the Sword of Nuada, described as being brilliant and glowing, like the Sun. In the legend as related here by Wagner, the Sword of Cheru, like Tyrfing in the Norse myths, is passed from hand to hand, after the god Cheru himself takes the sword from its shrine and bestows it upon a Roman prefect in the lower Rhine, Vitellius. The prefect comes to a grisly end, and the sword is lost, only to be spotted again later, and in every case, the one who bears it fails to be worthy of it in the end, and the fearsome blade betrays him to his death. In one such episode, the lost sword of Cheru is dug up out of a field by a farmer, just in time for Atilla the Hun to ride by, and demand it. The legend holds that the death of Atilla himself can be attributed to the sword. This is of interest because one etymology for the name ‘Tyrfing’ proposed by philologist Hjalmar Falk, posits that the name is derived from torf ‘turf’, with Tyrfingr meaning jordfunden ‘found in the ground’.
So, here we see here a number of possible tie-ins between the two myths. In one version, a sword-god releases a magical sword into the world where it impacts the destinies of men. In the other, the sword does very much the same, and also results in the loss of one of its master’s hands, even as Nuada lost a hand. Both are forged by dwarven smiths. And while Norse Týr may not not have lent his name directly to Tyrfingr, the sword itself certainly bears a close resemblance to the Sword of Cheru in many respects, which was indeed associated with a sword-god. This leads us to our next important data point, the correlation of these mythical themes with the mythology of Tiw, the famous Germanic war-god, who also was closely associated with the sword:
Under the name of Ziu, Tyr was the principal divinity of the Suabians, who originally called their capital, the modern Augsburg, Ziusburg. This people, venerating the god as they did, were wont to worship him under the emblem of a sword, his distinctive attribute, and in his honour held great sword dances, where various figures were performed. Sometimes the participants forming two long lines, crossed their swords, point upward, and challenged the boldest among their number to take a flying leap over them. At other times the warriors joined their sword points closely together in the shape of a rose or wheel, and when this figure was complete invited their chief to stand on the navel thus formed of flat, shining steel blades, and then they bore him upon it through the camp in triumph. The sword point was further considered so sacred that it became customary to register oaths upon it.—Myths of the Norsemen: From the Eddas and Sagas (H. A. Guerber, 1909)
It is Tiw, who loans his name to the second day of the week, Tues-Day, and whom Roman and Church-educated scholars of antiquity interpreted as Mars, due to his resemblance to that war-like Roman god. The name Tiw, from the Proto-Germanic *Teiwaz, means “a divine being” or perhaps “The God”, when being used as an epithet. He appears in Norse sources as Týr, and in Gothic as Teiws. It is generally assumed to be Tiw who is evoked in the Old English Rune Poem as Tir, where he gives his name to the “T” rune, and probably to a constellation of the same name:
Tir is a certain token, it keeps its troth well
with noble men. It is always on its journey
over the clouds of night, never wandering.
The reader may be familiar with the Scandinavian story of Fenrir, a monstrous wolf that was growing at an alarming rate, and which was the subject of many dark omens among the gods. The gods devised a fetter called Gleipnir, with the help of the dwarves, that was deemed capable of binding the monster, but he was suspicious, and would not suffer the gods to place the fetter on him. They were forced to resort to trickery to get it on him, promising that if he truly could not escape from it, they would remove it. Týr volunteered to place his hand in the wolf’s mouth, as a guarantee that if Fenrir couldn’t break the fetter, they would do as they said, and free him. In fact it was strong enough to bind him, and no matter how he struggled, Fenrir could not break it. The gods declined to remove the fetter form the monstrous wolf, who bit off the hand of Týr in his rage.(Sturluson; Byock translation, 2006)
The fact that Týr is depicted as one-handed, it perhaps very significant, as is the fact that the magical fetter he was applying to the wolf (a form of ribbon or cord) could be described as a strengr… in a metaphorical sense, the same thing that took Nuada’s hand! However, there has been some doubt as to whether the Germanic Tiw was seen as one-handed. While Snorri seems to have invented some aspects of the tale of Týr and the wolf, it is possible that the motif is an echo of a deeper and older myth. This was pure speculation until the unearthing of the Binham Hoard in England during the period between 2003 and 2015. Included in this hoard were many Anglo-Saxon Bracteates, including this one:
The image stamped on this bracteate appears to show a warrior figure, with one hand in the mouth of an animal. It nowhere names Tiw, but the motif is quite familiar. Scholars date the bracteate to the Fifth Century, CE. It seems entirely likely then, that the Anglo-Saxons of the Migration Age were aware of the myth of a heroic or divine warrior, who had lost one hand to a wolf.
If this figure is indeed Tiw, it would seem reasonable to assume that the Anglo-Saxons did assign to him at least some of the traits or attributes associated in Norse mythology, with Týr. Namely, that he was steadfast, brave, fierce in the prosecution of enemies, but also wise. It should be noted here, Nodens was described in much the same way.
Yet another piece of the tapestry we are attempting to recreate, comes from a votive altar at Hadrian’s Wall, in Great Britain. Frisian mercenaries had been stationed there along with Roman soldiers, and had apparently erected this altar. The Dutch philosopher and historian Chantepie de la Saussaye, tells us in his volume, Religion of the Teutons;
Teutonic soldiers serving under the Romans in other provinces of the Empire may also have worshipped their ancestral gods beyond the borders of their own native land. That such was actually the case is shown by two inscriptions of the third century, found in 1883 at Housesteads in the north of England, near the wall of Hadrian. The altar on which they are found was erected by Frisian soldiers from Twenthe,- which is rather strange inasmuch as Twenthe belonged to the territory of the Salic Franks,- and is dedicated ‘Deo Marti Thingso et duabus Alaesiagis Bede et Fimmilene.’ The relief above the altar shows an armed warrior with helmet, spear, and shield, at whose right a swan or goose is seen. Both of the receding sides (the relief is semicircular in form) shows the same figure of a hovering female, with a sword (or staff) in the one hand and a wreath in the other.
What we do know is that the Frisian cuneus, encamped in Britain under Alexander Severus, worshipped Mars, ie Tiu, doubtless as god of war, as the armed figure in itself indicates. A fragment of nature mythology, according to some scholars, lies concealed in the swan, to be interpreted as the symbol of either light or cloud, and to be brought into connection with the Swan-knights of legendary lore.
It appears likely that the Frisian cavalrymen, who call themselves citizens, saw in Tiu the god not only of the squadron but also of their popular assembly, the thing, and that the two side figures are to be regarded in the same light, their names having been explained from certain forms of Frisian legal procedure. However that may be, the fact that these Frisian soldiers worshipped Tiu does not seem to show conclusively that this god of the sky was originally the chief god of all Teutons.
-Religion of the Teutons (Saussaye, 1902)
This attributes to Tiw, as Mars-Thingsus, an administrative or rulership function, associating him with the ancient Germanic judicial assembly, or Þing (‘Thing’). This is entirely in keeping with the picture of Nuada the wise king, as well as Seaxneat/Cheru, the divine ruler of the Chersuci, and later the Saxons. Catherine Heath observes in her excellent article, Tyr: One hand or Tiw, That the mercenaries in question were Frisians from a place called ‘Tuihantes’, which is now the modern day Dutch town of ‘Twenthe’, which suggests that Mars-Thingsus is indeed, none other than Tiw. This application of Interpretatio Romana, identifiying Tiw with Mars is seen as early as the Germania of Tacitus, wherein the author tells us:
Mercury is the deity whom they chiefly worship, and on certain days they deem it right to sacrifice to him even with human victims. Hercules and Mars they appease with more lawful offerings. 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, indicates an imported worship. The Germans, however, do not consider it consistent with the grandeur of celestial beings to confine the gods within walls, or to liken them to the form of any human countenance. They consecrate woods and groves, and they apply the names of deities to the abstraction which they see only in spiritual worship.-Germania (Tacitus)
Modern scholarship seems very nearly in accord, that this refers to Woden, Þunor, and Tiw, three highly regarded gods among the early Germans, to include the Cherusci and the Angles. And yet, take note of a similar trinity of gods, mentioned in the same Saxon Baptismal vow we discussed in the opening of this section:
And I forsake all the Devil’s works and promises, Thunaer and Woden and Seaxnot and all those devils who are their followers.-Old Saxon Baptismal Vow
Here, it seem that the place of honor due to the warlike Tiw, was ascribed instead to Seaxneat. Given this final piece of evidence, we are now ready to weave these threads together, to attempt recreate the tapestry of Seaxneat, and Tiw. We must conclude, that these gods are in fact, one and the same. The Cherusci, and their descendants, some of whom were Saxons, knew and revered a tribal god called Cheru, or Saxnot, a god of victory, war, rulership and perhaps, hunting and even healing, as these last two competencies were assigned to the Gallic Nodens. The Seax, a long knife or dagger considered emblematic of the Saxons, would have been a useful tool as well as a weapon, in some cases, suitable for dressing animal kills. Given the possible influence of the earliest form of this god upon Nodens/Nuada, it seems not unreasonable to think that they were both gods of hunting and providing for the people, as well as gods of war. As early as the second century, in the time of Tacitus, we see that this being, glossed as “Mars”, was considered to be among the chief gods of the Germanic barbarians. Where Tiw is explicitly mentioned, Saxnot is nowhere to be found. Yet among the Saxons as elsewhere, this so-called Mars remains a powerful figure in Germanic religion, as mentioned by the historian Widukind of Corvey, in his 10th Century Deeds of the Saxons:
When morning was come they set up an eagle at the eastern gate, and erecting an altar of victory they celebrated appropriate rites with all due solemnity, according to their ancestral superstition: to the one whom they venerate as their god of Victory they give the name of Mars…-Deeds of the Saxons (Widukind of Corvey, 970)
Yet, it is not Tiw, but Saxnot they were asked to forswear, when finally defeated by the forces of Charlemagne. If we consider that Tiw is in essence a title, “The God”, then it seems perfectly reasonable to imagine that this title was assigned by the Cherusci to their tutelary god Cheru, by the Saxons, to Saxnot.
Indeed, we see the title týr – assigned to both Oðin and Thor in Norse poetry, but when used alone, simply as Týr, it seems that the reader is expected to know which god is being referred to. Much as the god Yngvi-Freyr, “The Lord Yngvi” came to be known simply as Frey, or “Lord”, it seems that the North Germanic tribes retained a memory of and reverence for this god, but forgot his local tribal associations with the Saxons and perhaps others, preferring to simply call him Týr. It would also seem that as time progressed, this northern counterpart began to dwindle somewhat in perceived importance. Further, it is the opinion of this author, that some biased or outdated scholarship imputes to Norse Týr in particular, a bloodthirsty and single-minded nature, and a love of “unnatural warfare” that does not align well with either the reconstructed mythology of Seaxneat as a god-king and provider, or with the occasional reference to Týr/Tiw in primary sources describing him as being exceedingly wise.
Thus, as we attempt to reconstruct the cult of this once revered god, we present a picture of Seaxneat-Tiw (‘The God, Seaxneat’). Possibly he is the son of Woden, as is alluded to in both Skáldskaparmál, and in later versions of the royal genealogy of the kings of Essex, though the Heathen origin for this late addition of Woden above Seaxneat is debatable.
Ingwine Heathen Guidance
Seaxneat, or if one prefers, Tiw– is a god of victory, hunting, sailing, fishing, retribution, and justice, as well as lawful and thoughtful administration and rulership. He is fierce and wrathful when angered, but also wise, and fair-minded. It seems entirely plausible that the Saxons, or at least the Anglo- Saxons of the British Isles, conceived of him or came to conceive of him, as being one-handed. It also seems agreeable to ascribe to him the ownership (or at least guardianship) of a mythical sword that can shape the destinies of individual humans, and nations.
He is a prosecutor of the wicked, and has influence over legal proceedings, in the spirit of the Germanic Þing. It would seem appropriate to call upon him for aid in matters of justice through litigation or legislation, as well as success in military adventures.
