Tíw ⚔️

geþinges démend

There are few pieces of clear direct evidence of Tíw in Old English sources, but his surviving associations and the evidence in surrounding cultural lore are suggestive of a significant role in the Old English pantheon.

📜 Englisc Tíw
🏛️ Romano-British Mārs
🌳 The shire oak of English folklore
☀️ The day of the þing
🌲 The Gothic Mārs of Jordanēs
The Norse one-handed god
🐉️ Nōdens, Núadu, & Nudd of the silver hand
🐎️ Etymological connections
📝 A quick summary
🍂 Notes & Acknowledgements
📚 Bibliography

 

— C. Ryan Moniz
harvest mmxxii
updated harvest mmxxiii

 

purse-lid of a warrior with wolves from the Sutton Hoo ship burial

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

📜 Englisc TíwOld English

Virtually all directly attested instances of this god’s name in Old English sources come to us in a context where he is likened to the Roman god Mārs. Most often, this is indirectly through the use of his name for the labelling of Tuesday (tíwes dæg❦1e.g. Benedictine rune xiii ‘hú híe on weorcdagum tó healdenne sýn’; Byrhtferþ’s Enchiridion ii 3.227) or Monday night (tíwes niht❦2Bald’s leechbook iii ‘De generatione hominis’). Elsewhere, Tíw (or variants such as Tíg, Tiig, and tuu) occurs as a simple gloss for Roman Mārs❦3e.g. Épinal-Erfurt Glossary 663 or substitutes for Mārs in the context of a narrative.❦4Old English Martyrology ‘Pope Sixtus II’

Apart from these instances of Tíw’s name, we also have the Old English Rune Poem, which includes the following:

🙞 tír biþ tácna* sum   healdeð trýwa wel·
wiþ æþelingas   á biþ on færylde·
ofer nihta genipu·   nǽfre swíceþ∴

«ᛏ glory is one of the celestial signs*; it keeps faith well with noble folk; it is ever on its path over the mists of night, and never wavers.»

Old English Rune Poem, †Cotton NS Otho B.x 165 (10th c., recorded by George Hickes in 1705)

*tácn ‘sign, token’ has several interpretations, but the context of night and the use of the plural here is suggestive of its celestial connotations, which we also find in Bald’s Leechbook I & III where the signs of the zodiac are referred to simply with this word.

The label tir ‘glory, fame’ given for the rune here also appears in two other records of the Old English runic alphabet: Cotton MS Domitian A ix, dated to approximately the 10th century, and Byrhtferth MS, dated to approximately the 12th century, where it is given as tyr. The word tír is also notable for its use in kennings for the Christian god.❦5Judith 93 (tíres brytta ‘giver of glory’) and Liber Psalmorum 79:14 (tíres wealdend ‘glory’s ruler’)

We might contrast these later r-final rune name records with the 9th century records associated with Alcuin❦6Codex Sangallensis 270; Codex Vindobonensis 795 that name the rune ti, which comports more closely with a nominative form of the Tíg variant of the god Tíw’s name. It is possible that the later name tír replaced the earlier due to its pagan nature, or conversely that influence from the Norse god Týr (whose name is given to the corresponding rune in the Old Norwegian and Old Icelandic rune poems, along with references to the loss of Týr’s hand) motivated the change in name to tír/týr in Old English. Regardless, there seems to be some sort of connection between this rune❦7We might also note that the Gothic rune 𐍄 is given by Alcuin the name tyz in the Codex Vindobonensis 795, which likely derives from the name *Teiws, cognate to Tíw; cf. de Vries 1962 Altnordisches Etymologisches Worterbuch; Lehmann 1986 A Gothic Etymological Dictionary and the god in question.

As for the content of the rune poem itself, two main interpretations have been put forward, both centering on an astronomical reading of the poem’s vocabulary. On the one hand, the description of an unwavering star which functions as a guide in the night sky might suggests a connection with the North Star, Polaris. On the other hand, the association with glory and possibly with Tíw might suggest a connection with the planet Mars, and the fact that it á biþ on færylde may comport better with the predictable movement of a planet❦8cf. Osborn 2010, p 3-13 , rather than the static position of Polaris; while planets are not the most useful for determining one’s position, they can be useful for holding one’s course (healdeð trýwa wel❦9It may be worth noting that the Old Icelandic rune poem includes the title Mars tiggi in the analogous stanza. Each of the poem’s stanzas ends with a Latin gloss for the rune, followed by a poetic word for ‘ruler,’ ‘leader,’ ‘prince,’ or the like. The choice of tiggi here is interesting, however: its normalized form tyggi appears to derive from the Proto-Germanic verb *teuhaną ‘to lead, pull, draw’ (Cleasby & Vigfússon 1874), suggesting that it may have originally meant ‘leader’ – this would also make it cognate with the Old English verb téon ‘to draw, lead,’ which has a wide array of contextual meanings from ‘to hoist a sail’ to ‘to go on a journey,’ and which is sometimes conjugated as in the 1st person singular present, the present singular subjunctive, and the singular imperative.). Additionally, some❦10e.g. Halsall 1981, p 136; Osborn 2010, p 3-13 have pointed to the resemblance between the rune’s shape and that of the planetary symbol for Mars.❦11The use of an arrow-like symbol for the planet may date back as early as the 3rd century, cf. Jones 1999, p 62 Regardless, the Old English Rune Poem connects this rune with a celestial object of some kind.

What we have of the relatively scant Old English attestations of Tíw are:

Given the extent to which the Old English sources connect Tíw with Mārs, it is worth investigating what associations with Mārs may have existed in the early English milieu.

🏛️ Romano-British Mārs

In sub-Roman Britain, there were a great many deities, predominantly Brythonic and Gaulish deities, who were syncretized with the Roman god Mārs. Some of these figures may provide some relevant context for how the figure of Mārs may have been understood by the later inhabitants of Britain.

In Britain, Mārs was associatied with Belatucadrus ❦12RIB 970· Netherby; 948· Carlisle and Cocidius❦13RIB 602· Lancaster; 993· Bewcastle; 1017· Cumbria; 2015· Castlesteads to Stanwix sector; 2024· Castlesteads to Stanwix sector; 1307· Wallsend, two figures who may have been horned gods associated with war and hunting.❦14Ross 1967, p 235 A votive inscription for a Mārs Corotiacus exists with equestrian imagery❦15RIB 213· Martlesham, perhaps recalling the chariot racing festival Equirria dedicated to Mārs at the Campus Mārtius in Rome, or the Equus Octōber sacrifice to Mārs. In his aspect as a healer, Romano-British Mārs was also syncretized with Nōdens.❦16RIB 616 & 617· Cockersand Moss; 305 & 307· Lydney Park

The name of Mārs Rigonemetis❦17RIB 3180· Nettleham and the pairing of Mārs Loucetios with Nemetona❦18RIB 140· Bath both suggest an association between Romano-British Mārs and the Celtic nemeton or ‘sacred grove’; there is evidence of correlaries to these groves in Germanic pagan cultures as well❦19Simek 2008, p 310, particularly in connection with oak trees.❦20de Vries 1970, p 350-353

There are also two inscriptions near Hadrian’s Wall which venerate Mārs along with two female figures called the Alaisiagae, in one named Beda and Fimmilena❦21RIB 1593· Housesteads, and in the other not named.❦22RIB 1593· Housesteads Both of these inscriptions are attributed to the Tuihantī, believed to have inhabited what is now Twente in the eastern Netherlands, suggesting a Germanic connection. Indeed, the Mārs of the former inscription is named Thincsus, which is highly suggestive of the Germanic þing or assembly.❦23The attested Germanic words for the þing all point to a Proto-Germanic form *þingą ‘meeting, appointed time,’ but the related Gothic cognatic 𐌸𐌴𐌹𐌷𐍃 þeihs ‘occasion’ is derived from a Proto-Germanic form *þinhsą, so the inscription Thincsus might represent a Romanization of a corresponding masculine name *þinhsaz or *þingsaz There is a third inscription in the area which venerates just the Alaisagae❦24RIB 1576· Housesteads, here named Baudihillia and Friagabis. It is possible that the names of these figures may have a Celtic origin (e.g. Beda may be connected with a figure Ricagambeda❦25RIB 2107· Birrens), there are also possible Germanic connections, or this may be a case of heavy syncretism between local Celtic beliefs and the Germanic Roman soldiers who made the inscriptions.

The picture of Mārs evident from sub-Roman artifacts, which may reflect local beliefs and folklore that possibly survived into the early English period, is one of war, of healing, of equestrian associations, and of a connection with sacred groves and the þing. When we view the early English connection with Mārs and Tíw in light of these sub-Roman associations, it may provide an avenue for reconstruction, as well as make sense of later folklore.

🌳 The shire oak of English folklore

While it is uncertain to what degree Celtic understandings of Mārs that were present in Britain might have influenced the early English understanding of the Roman deity, it is possible that traditions traceable to these associations persisted into and beyond the Old English period. One place where we can see a potential survival of Romano-British ideas is in the tradition of the shire oak.

The shire oak was an oak tree, especially an oak tree at the border of multiple shires, under which it is believed the early English would hold their meetings or þings.❦26Mosley 1910, p 66; Blair 1956, p 236 The shire oak is the source of many place-names in England, particularly the many “three-shire oaks” located at the border of three shires, and the wapentake of Skyrack (presumably derived from Old English scír ác ‘shire oak’). While there is no known source which explicitly connects the shire oak with the English Tíw, it is possible that this tradition hearkens back to the Mārs-associated sub-Roman deities connected with the sacred grove and the þing, and therefore perhaps also with Tíw during the intervening period of English heathenry in the area.

☀️ The day of the þing

There is also potential external support for an association between Tíw (or at least his other West Germanic correlaries) and the þing. While cognates to the Old English tíwes dæg for ‘Tuesday’ are attested in West Germanic, the surviving modern Dutch and German words for the weekday reflect Middle Dutch dingsdag and Old High German dingestag respectively, both meaning ‘day of the þing.’ These translations for Latin mārtis diēs ‘day of Mārs’ strengthen the connection between the Old English Mārs equivalent Tíw and the concept of the þing; at the very least, they solidify a connection between the Germanic þing and Roman Mārs, or suggest that an early Germanic *þingsaz figure might have existed, which would also explain the Mārs Thincsus found at Hadrian’s Wall.

🌲 The Gothic Mārs of Jordanēs

Expanding beyond British and West Germanic connections, we come to the 6th century account of the eastern Roman historian Jordanēs who, although he was likely of Gothic descent himself, mistakenly conflated the Getae (a dacian-related people) and the Goths (an Eastern Germanic people). His Christian bias is clearly visible in the gruesome way that he describes pagan practices, but it can still shed some light onto the associations that he saw between a potential East Germanic heathen practice that concerned a deity equated with Mārs.

🙞 adeō ergō fuēre laudatī gaetae ut dūdum mārtem quem poētārum fallācia deum bellī prōnūntiat apud eōs fuisse dīcant exortum· unde et vergilius· ‹gradivumque patrem geticīs quī praesidet arvīs›· quem mārtem gothī semper asperrimā plācāvēre cultūrā nam victimae eius mortēs fuēre captōrum· opīnantēs bellōrum praesulem aptē hūmānī sanguinis effūsiōne plācandum·

«To such an extent therefore were the Getae praised that Mārs, whom the poets’ false tales call the god of war, was said to have appeared among them, wherefore Vergil says: ‘thus is father Gradivus, who watches over the Getic fields.’ And so the goths ever most fiercely appeased Mārs with the harshest veneration — with the death of captives as his victims — thinking that the lord of wars would be suitably appeased by the shedding of human blood.»

— Iordanis Dē originē actibusque getārum ·V· 40–41

There are two relevant pieces of information i would draw from this excerpt. The first is the explicitness of the war-associations as the motivation for this interpretation of the corresponding Germanic deity as Mārs. The other is the invocation of the epithet Gradivus; according to the account of Livy❦27Ab urbe condita ·II· 45, this aspect of Mārs was associated with oaths taken before battle. The emphasis of war and the association with oaths are noteworthy when we look at other comparative sources for evidence related to Tíw.

⛵ The Norse one-handed god

As noted in the first sections, the Old Norwegian and Old Icelandic rune poems obliquely reference the loss of Týr’s hand, referring to Týr as the einhendr áss ‘one-handed god.’ This story is also referenced in the poem Lokasenna, where Loki mocks Týr:

🙞 þegi þú týr· þú kunnir aldregi
bera tílt með tveim·
handarinnar hægri mun ek hinnar geta
er þér sleit fenrir frá·

«Silence, Týr! you could never settle a dispute between two parties. i will mention your right hand which fenrir tore from you.»

Lokasenna 38

Here we learn that Týr’s hand was bitten by the wolf Fenrir, but we also find some indirect evidence that Týr is associated with settling disputes, which may recall the connection to the þing noted in other Germanic sources.

Stanza 6 of Sigrdrífumál speaks of sigrúnar ‘victory runes’ which it says to carve on a sword and name Týr twice. This stanza seems to be another connection between the god and war; notably, the prior stanza speaks of a beer blended with megintírr ‘mighty honor,’ where tírr is the Old Norse cognate to Old English tír ‘glory, fame.’

It is only in Snorri Sturluson’s prose Gylfaginning that we get the full narrative of the loss of Týr’s hand. In chapter 25, Snorri describes how the god offered his hand into the mouth of Fenrir at veði❦28‘as a wager, pledge, or surety’ as a way for the Æsir to lure Fenrir into their trap; the pledge here might recall the associations between Mārs Gradivus, the god that Jordanēs’ account likened to the Gothic war deity, and oaths. This same narrative extolls Týr as brave and having power over battle-victory.

Snorri’s Skáldskaparmál reemphasizes the importance of this episode, providing the following kennings for Týr:

🙞 hvernig skal kenna · svá at kalla hann einhenda ás ok úlfs fóstra· víga guð· son óðins·

«How does one name Týr? by calling him the one-handed god and the wolf’s fosterer, god of battles, son of Óðinn

Skáldskaparmál 16

These Old Norse sources emphasize the story of the loss of Týr’s hand and his association with war, but also suggest a connection with settling disputes and making oaths.

🐉️ Nōdens, Núadu, & Nudd of the silver hand

In the Irish compilation Lebor Laignech (the Book of Leinster), one of dozens of 11th century manuscripts recording Lebor Gabála Érenn (the Book of the Taking of Ireland), we learn❦29MS folio 9a—b that the figure Núadu was the first king of the Tuatha Dé Danann in Ireland, a group of supernatural beings among whom are found many figures considered to have originally been deities. In the First Battle of Mag Tuired against the Fomóraig, his hand is hewn from him, and he is succeded by the half-Fomóire King Bress, until Dian Cécht, a figure associated with healing, fits him with a functional silver arm, earning Núadu the byname Airgetlám ‘silver hand.’ Having regained a hand, he once again takes the kingship, but is later slain at the Second Battle of Mag Tuired.

Many scholars❦30e.g. Carey 1984, p 2-3; Matasovíc 2009, p 350 have connected Núadu with the Brythonic god Nōdens mentioned above, as well as a legendary Welsh king Nudd (later called Lludd) who is also given the byname Llaw Eraint ‘silver hand.’❦31We can see through Geoffrey of Monmouth’s 12th century account of King Lud in the Historia Rēgum Britanniae that the folklore surrounding this persisted in the English cultural milieu even after the Norman invasion

In the geographical vicinity of the early English, we have the Irish figure Núadu (and possibly also the Welsh figure Nudd), who was probably cognate with Mārs Nōdens, and who lost his hand (later regaining a silver one); likewise, we have the cognate Norse deity Týr, associated with Mārs❦32e.g. in the Old Icelandic Rune Poem, as mentioned in the above note ❦9, who also lost his hand. Taking these pieces of evidence together, it is possible that some lost story of the Old English Tíw losing a hand may have once existed.

🐎️ Etymological Connections

It has long been agreed upon by linguists that the name of the god Tíw (and his Germanic cognates, all derived from a Proto-Germanic *tīwaz) is derived from Proto-Indo-European *deiuós ‘god, deity’ with non-Germanic cognates in Baltic languages❦33e.g. Lithuanian diẽvas ‘god,’ Latvian dìevs ‘god’, Celtic❦34e.g. irish dia ‘god,’ Welsh duw ‘god’, Indo-Iranian❦35e.g. Sanskrit देव devá ‘god,’ Avestan 𐬛𐬀𐬉𐬎𐬎𐬀 daēuua ‘daeva, demon,’ Old Persian 𐎭𐎡𐎺 daivah ‘false god’, and Italic❦36e.g. Latin deus and dīvus ‘god’; this original sense of ‘god’ can still be seen in the Old Norse use of týr (plural tívar) for ‘god, gods’ and in epithets such as Fimbultýr for the god Óðinn. That Tíw’s name derives from a general noun for ‘god’ might suggest that it functioned in Proto-Germanic originally as a title, much as has been suggested for the Norse name Freyr, which comes from a word meaning ‘lord’; perhaps *þinhsaz, *þingsaz, or some related name may have been an alternative name for this deity, preserved in the Mārs Thincsus inscription and in the continental West Germanic weekday name, or perhaps it was something else. Whatever the case, Tíw is the only name we have for this deity in Old English.

The word *deiuós is a metathesized derivative of the reconstructed word *diḗus ‘sky, heaven; sky god,’ which is reflected in many Indo-European branches such as Anatolian❦37e.g. Hittite 𒅆𒍑 sius ‘god’, Indo-Iranian❦38e.g. Sanskrit द्यु dyú ‘heaven, sky; day’, Ancient Greek ❦39Ζεύς Zéus ‘sky god’, Italic ❦40e.g. Latin Iovis ‘sky god’ and diēs ‘day’, Old Armenian❦41տիւ tiw ‘day’, and Albanian.❦42Zojz ‘god, supreme being’ In the instances where it is used as the name for a sky god, it is often appended with a derivative of *ph₂tḗr ‘father,’ e.g. Sanskrit द्यौष्पितृ Dyáuṣpitṛ́ and Latin Iuppiter.

While the etymological connection between the Proto-Indo-European forms *deiuós and *diḗus is of considerable philological interest, it is important to note that these were both formally and contextually different words with distinct meanings in Proto-Indo-European, though they may have influenced each other’s development in the later Indo-European languages. While Tíw does seem to have some celestial associations in the form of the planet Mars or the star Polaris, it is most likely that these came about by virtue of whatever qualities made him analogous to the British conception of Mārs than it does a very distant etymological connection with “sky-father” figures such as Dyáuṣpitṛ́, especially given that the name Tíw evolves from a different derivation, and the meaning of ‘sky’ is not given to a derivative from the root in Germanic languages.

📝 A quick summary

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


🍂 Notes & Acknowledgements

Many thanks to Drunertos for helping me in gaining access to some of the materials referenced.


📚 Bibliography


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