Hréðe 🏆

hyhtes giefend

Hréðe is an enigmatic figure whom we know from only one 8th century mention. However, using linguistics and comparative analysis of different textual sources, we can identify this deity as a goddess potentially associated with glory, triumph, and victory, especially victory over the harshness of winter.

📜 Bede’s Hreda
✒️ Variants of ‘March’
🌀 The noisy one
🐝 Victory-women
🐇 Victory goddesses
📝 A quick summary
🍂 Notes

 

— C. Ryan Moniz
winter mmxxiii
updated harvest mmxxiii

 

Vittoria con tripode fresco in Pompeii

Disclaimer: This piece merely reflects my own understanding of this deity based on my research and experiences.

📜 Bede’s Hreda

In his 725 text Dē temporum ratiōnē, the Venerable Bede explains the origin of the Old English names for each month. When explaining the month of March, Bede writes:

🙞 Hrēdmonath ā deā illōrum Hrēdā cui in illō sacrificābant nōminātur·

«Hredmonath is named after their deity Hreda, to whom they sacrificed in that time.»

Dē temporum ratiōnē ·XV· ‘Dē mēnsibus anglōrum’

Given that the Old English ⟨ð⟩ is often represented with a ⟨d⟩ in Latin texts, the name of both the month and the goddess are often normalized to Hréðmonaþ and Hréðe respectively. This choice is meant to reflect the fact that an ⟨ð⟩ is also suggested by a spelling with ⟨dh⟩ in at least two manuscript copies of the text.❦1Royal MS 15 b xix f.64v· (10th-11thc); Royal MS 12 D iv f.54v· (early 12th c)

However, the choice of what is probably meant to be an n-stem feminine noun Hréðe is a bit more uncertain. When writing in Latin, scribes were often faced with a conflict when rendering an Old English word while still keeping the Latin grammatically clear. The context in the above quote necessitates that the name clearly grammatically agree with the feminine ablative noun deā ‘goddess,’ so it is rendered with the same ending. However, the name of the goddess Éastre cited by Bede in the very next sentence, and under the same grammatical constraints, retains is characteristic n-stem ending -e in all the manuscripts to which I have access❦2Cotton MS Vespasian B vi, f.20r· (9th c); Royal MS 15 B xix f.64v· (10th-11th c); Oxford, St. John’s College MS 17,, f.76v· (ca 1110); Royal MS 13 A xi, f.49r· (11-12th c); Royal MS 12 D iv f.54v· (early 12th c); Cotton MS Tiberius E iv, f.60v· (early 12th c); in all of these same manuscripts, the name of ‘Hréðe’ is rendered simply with a final -a — this suggests to me that her name was either simply Hréð, or that it was Hréða.

i find the idea that the name Bede was rendering was Hréða quite unlikely. Though Jakob Grimm does suggest the possibility of a masculine form for this deity, Bede makes it clear that this figure should be a goddess, so a grammatically masculine n-stem Hréða would have to be the result of some historically masculine noun being reanalysed as feminine (perhaps as a former god being recast as a goddess, with the original name retaining its masculine form). The alternative would be a rare feminine loan in -a (cf. Old English Italia), but a loan makes little sense here.

The idea that this name would be an n-stem feminine Hréðe in the first place seems to be a combination of two inferences. The first comes from Grimm, who noted a potentially cognate personal feminine name in Old High German, Hruada, which should correspond to an n-stem in Old English; however, this name being related does not necessarily mean that it is a perfect cognate, and indeed it is very possible that a woman’s given name would be slightly different than that of a goddess for whom she is named.❦3Additionally, the related masculine element hruodi- appears in Old High German names, and it is possible that this recorded feminine name is actually a nickname form for a longer name with such an element The second inference seems to be the more general tendency for agent nouns or nouns derived from adjectives to be n-stems — this would make sense for a feminine name derived from the masculine noun hréþ ‘glory’ (or from the adjective hréðe ‘fierce’); however, it is also possible that this name is a feminine i-stem, making it formally identical to masculine hréð, or else that the generally masculine noun also doubled in function (as we see for example with the masculine noun þéow ‘slave, servant’ used as a feminine name ending in wealhþéow).

Given the very different treatment of the names in Bede’s account, I do not think Bede was rending Hréðe, but rather a theonym Hréð which he understood to be feminine. However, this does not make a name Hréðe impossible for this figure – we see similar alternations between strong nouns and n-stem nouns for the same figure in, e.g. Géat :: Géata. While Bede may have known this goddess as Hréð, Hréðe is the more frequent name for her in Old English polytheism today.

✒️ Variants of ‘March’

While there is good reason to trust Bede’s explanation for the origin of the name Hréðmónaþ for the month of March, there has been some investigation into alternative explanations for this name, such as a reading of the name as employing the aforementioned adjective hréðe ‘fierce’ as a description of the severe weather in this final month of winter.

Outside of Bede’s account in Dē temporum ratiōne, there are only a few other witnesses to a similar name. One is the Old English Prose Martyrology, dating roughly to the late 9th century. This text gives Hredmonað as the name for ‘March.’ The use of ⟨d⟩ here could be an example of manuscript difficulty or a typographical error on the part of the scribe for an intended ⟨ð⟩, but it could also be that the scribe of this text was aware of variant name for March, perhaps one derived from the verb hreddan ‘to liberate, save, take away’ — perhaps a Hred(d)mónaþ could have been understood as a month of final ‘liberation’ from winter.

A manuscript Trinity R 15.32 dating from about 1035 attests to a spelling Hreodmonað for this month. There is nothing in the etymology of the adjective hréðe ‘fierce,’ the noun hréð ‘glory,’ or even the root of the verb hreddan ‘to save,’ that would give cause for this kind of vowel breaking. Therefore, it seems likely this is reflecting yet another possible variant name, perhaps Hréodmónaþ ‘reed month’ — reed harvesting is well-documented in winter months in England, so this could be a potential reference to the practice.

Another mid-11th century document, Douce 296 and a ca. 1060 manuscript, Cotton Vitellius both attest to a form Hrædmonað for ‘March.’ This could represent a vowel variant of Hred-❦4In fact, a variant of hrædding is found for the noun hredding ‘liberation’, but could also represent the adjective hræd ‘fast, rapid,’ perhaps describing the winds of the month. This adjective also had a related adverb hraðe/hræðe, and these forms sometimes led to the confusion of ⟨d⟩ and ⟨ð⟩ in the adjective as well, which might explain the form found in Byrhtferð of Ramsey’s late 10th or early 11th century science textbook Enchiridion, wherein the month is spelled Hræðmonð.

It is possible that Bede’s explanation for this name for ‘March’ is representative of the original meaning of this month’s name, and that as this meaning was eventually forgotten along with the goddess for whom the month was named, alternative similar-sounding forms which still made contemporary sense came about. However, it is equally possible that the variant forms existed alongside the one named for the goddess, all referring to different aspects related to the month of March.

In any case, using one of these many variants was not the only way to indicate the month of March in Old English.

🌀️ The noisy one

The name Lide or Lyde for the month of March is attested into early modern English.❦5Even as late as 1929 in CN French’s A Countryman’s Day Book Anthology: “Eat leeks in Lide and ramsins in May, and all the year after physicians may play” This comes from the Old English Hlýda, which is used to denote March in at least 5 independent sources, including one from Bede himself that likely predates his Dē temporum ratiōne.❦6 De temporibus (Bede, ca. 703); Old English Metrical Calendar (late 10th c); Octabas et circumcisio domini nostri (Ælfríc of Eynsham, late 10th c); Computistica (late 11th c); De observatione lunae (copied from a now lost manuscript in the 17th c) The name appears to be derived from the verb hlýdan ‘to make loud noise’ (← the adjective hlúd ‘loud’), or else the noun hlýd ‘noise’; in either case, it is treated as a masculine n-stem noun with the probable meaning of ‘noisy one’ or ‘noise-maker.’ One conspicuous instance of this word’s use is in the following excerpt:

🙞 þænne hé furðor cymeð
ufor ánre niht   ús tó túne
hríme gehyrsted   hagolscúrum færð
geond middangeard   mártius réðe
hlýda héalíc·

«then he comes further along to us in town one night later, ornamented in hoarfrost, moving in hailstorms over middle-earth — Mārtius the severe, Hlýda the lofty.»

Old English Metrical Calendar 33b-37a

Here, the lofty Hlýda acts as a gloss for the ‘severe (réðe)’ Mārtius, where both the Old English and Latin names of ‘March’ are being personified. The description of Martius as réðe is very evocative of the synonymous (and nearly homonymous) adjective hréðe ‘fierce, severe.’ The description of Hlýda as héalíc ‘lofty’ is also interesting beside the potential meaning of the goddess Hréð(e)’s name as ‘glorious, triumphant.’

🐝 Victory-women

In the poems Béowulf and Gúþlác, the noun hréð ‘glory’ and the adjective hréðig ‘triumphant’ appear in compounds with the noun sige ‘victory’ several times. ❦7Béowulf 94a, 490a, 1597a, 2756a; Gúþlác 732b An interesting compound of a similar nature appears in the following metrical charm, called Wiþ ymbe ‘Against a swarm of bees’:

🙞 sitte gé sigewíf   sígað tó eorðan
nǽfre gé wilde   tó wuda fléogan
béo gé swá gemindige   mínes gódes
swá bið manna gehwilc   metes & éðeles

«sit you down, victory-women, fall to the earth never to fly wild to the woods; be you so mindful of my welfare as is each person of their space and home.»

wiþ ymbe 11a-14b

Many bee species hibernate during the winter and emerge in early spring; however, honeybees stay active during the winter, living off the honey they have collected throughout the year, braving the cold in their hives. The designation of the bees in this metrical charm as ‘victory-women’ is interesting in light of the potential connection to between Hréðe and victory over winter.

🐇️ Victory goddesses

As suggested up to this point, the translation of ‘glory, triumph’ for the name of this goddess may imply that she was connected with victory. This makes additional sense when considering the timing of her reported celebrations.

Of course, it is difficult to miss the connection with the Roman god Mārs for whom the month Mārtius is named in Latin. He had an aspect called Mārs Invictus (‘Mārs the unconquered’), though the primary celebration for Mārs Invictus was May 14th. A goddess frequently associated with Mārs, particularly on the border with Germania and in Roman Britain, was Victōria. There are at least 6 inscriptions in Britain that are dedicated to both Mārs and Victōria.❦8 RIB 585· Ribchester; 779· Brougham; 1595 & 1596· Housesteads; 1899· Birdoswald; 2177· Auchendavy

A Celtic goddess associated by the Roman historian Cassius Dio 🙠 with Victōria is the figure Andraste/Andate(/andarta potentially). In his account of the revolt of the Iceni, Boudica (whose own name also translates from early Brythonic to ‘victory woman’) invokes the goddess Andraste to aid in fighting the Romans. There is some difficulty with the etymology of Andraste, but my best attempt is a Proto-Celtic *Andrastā meaning ‘one who has not been broken.’❦9← Proto-Indo-European *n-drH·s·téh₂, from the same root *dér(H)- ‘tear, shatter’ that yields Welsh and Breton darn ‘piece’; similarly, Andarta may come from a Proto-Celtic *andartā ‘unbroken one’, from the same PIE root in the form *n-dr·téh₂ In the very same text, Boudica is also reported to have performed a kind of augury involving the release of a hare, wherein the direction the released hare runs is used to divine an answer. This is interesting as well given the long folkloric association between hares and the month of March❦10e.g. the proverb “mad as a March hare,” with its first attested variant in ca. 1500, when their breeding season is at its peak in Europe. Based on this augury, some modern Celtic polytheists have associated hares with Andraste.

Another vernal goddess potentially connected with Roman Mārs is the Slavic goddess who in Polish is called Marzanna. She is a goddess of seasonal death and rebirth, particularly winter’s death and the victorious return of spring.

📝 A quick summary

Below is a quick summary of some of the key points presented in the earlier sections of this page:


🍂 Notes


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