Net als andere monsters zoals de vampier en de draak, is de weerwolf een cultureel product. Als de cultuur eromheen verandert, verandert het mee. De culturele relatie tussen de faoladh, de weerwolven van Ossory, en Sigmundr en Sinfjötli is waarneembaar in de krijgersaspecten van de faoladh en Sigmundr en Sinfjötli, naast het gebruik van wolvenvachten in het verhaal van laatstgenoemde en de weerwolven van Ossory. Het is echter moeilijk om de reikwijdte van de relatie echt concreet te bepalen. Het is duidelijk dat de Scandinavische motieven een effect hadden op de Ierse motieven, net zoals het effect van de middeleeuwse 'welwillende weerwolf' op de Scandinavische weerwolf dat had. De culturele osmose tussen de Ierse en Scandinavische weerwolven is waarschijnlijk een natuurlijk bijproduct van het ingrijpende effect dat de vikingen hadden op Ierland, zowel historisch als cultureel.
In the study of mythological, legendary and folkloric creatures as cultural products, mythologists are blessed with a wide cache of subjects to choose from. One of the longest enduring creatures of fascination and imagination is arguably the werewolf. When the image of the werewolf is brought to mind, it is often of someone afflicted by a curse that is closely tied to the full moon, which turns the poor unfortunate soul into a giant wolf, or a wolf with a more human physique. The image, heavily influenced by Gothic Horror,[1] has been reinforced in recent years by modern writers and the media.
In the history of the cultural evolution of the transformation methods of werewolves, the depiction of a curse associated with the moon overshadows its less well-known medieval predecessor: the ‘courtly werewolf’, which includes Bisclavret (Lai de Bisclavret), Melion (Lai de Melion), Marrok (Le Morte D’Arthur), Alphonse (Guillaume de Palerne), Biclarel (Lai de Biclarel) and Gorlagon (Arthur et Gorlagon). Magic and curses are involved as a transformation motif in each of these stories, as well as the removal of clothes. The behaviour of the characters also differs from the near-mindless savagery we see in the Gothic Horror variant. Each character, whether a knight or a king, is an arguable projection of nobility and is expected to behave with the honour and virtues that were required of someone with that station, even while in wolf form (Van Veen 2012, 88).
Both images also deviate from the werewolves who attained their lupine form by being cursed using a wolf pelt, which was what compelled me to investigate the topic of this article in the first place. The aforementioned motif is seen in the stories of, but not limited to, the Irish werewolves of Ossory, the faoladh (Old Irish fáelad 'wolf-like'), and the Scandinavian story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli. The overt difference between the protagonists of each tale has never failed to relinquish its grip on academic interest and thus warrants further study. Thus, this article will focus on the extent of the cultural relationship between the stories of werewolves of Ossory, the faoladh, and the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli as revealed by the motifs in the stories, specifically their magical pelts.
Bisclavret about to attack his treacherous wife for trapping him in wolf form. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:The_Woman_and_the_Wolf_in_Marie_de_France%E2%80%99s_%E2%80%9CBisclavret%E2%80%9D.jpg
The viking invasions of the British Isles and Ireland
In order to get to the core of the motifs in the three stories of our investigation, one has to consider the cultural context that influenced the composition of each story. The cultural link between Ireland and Scandinavia is incontrovertible and complex due to the viking invasions of Ireland.[2] The viking invasions of the British Isles and Ireland extended from around 800 to the middle of the eleventh century, as documented in historical sources such as the Annals of Ulster and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. The dates and the extent of the earliest settlements differ considerably in the various regions of the British Isles on account of the different ambitions and strategies of the warriors participating in the vikings. For, unsurprisingly, the ambitions of one warrior did not always align with one another.
Regarding Ireland, during this time period it is important to note that the country was not unified. During the ninth century the island was composed of more than one hundred and fifty lesser kingdoms, each ruled by one of seven overkingdoms: the Northern Uí Néill, the Southern Uí Néill, Ulster, Airgialla, Leinster, Connacht and Munster. The raids began in 795, with the first recorded raid taking place at Rathlin Island on Ireland’s northeast coast and the raid on the monastery on the island of Inishmurrary on west coast of County Sligo. The remote Irish monastery of Skellig, fourteen kilometres off the coast of County Kerry, was raided in 821. Around this time period the raids become more frequent and range further inland along the rivers Boyne, Erne, Shannon and Liffey.
The push inland during the 830s saw raids impacting more prestigious monasteries. Early medieval Ireland did not have truly urban settlements but prominent monasteries such as Armagh, Clonmacnoise and Kildare fulfilled the function of towns. They were wealthy centres of commerce and consumption that attracted merchants and craftsmen. Thus, they attracted the attention of the vikings, as these centres were sources of rich plunder. In addition, the viking war bands got involved in small scale armed conflicts both in service to and against local Irish kings. By the late 830s and early 840s, the raiders had begun to overwinter in Ireland, fortifying coastal islands or by constructing fortified riverine longphuirts.[3] Dublin, Waterford, Wexford, Cork and Limerick were originally founded by the viking raiders as longphuirts that were intended as temporary fortifications for longships, which eventually grew into Ireland’s first towns as they became trading centres, slave markets and strategic staging points for raids on neighbouring Irish kingdoms (Ó Cróinín 1995, 233–241).
Map of Dublin, Waterford, Wexford, Cork and Limerick. Source: https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/1/15/Viking_Ireland.png/640px-Viking_Ireland.png
From soul-shifters to pelt wearers – The faoladh
With the historical background of Ireland’s relationship with Scandinavia established, the investigation can truly begin, starting with the faoladh. Among medieval Insular Celtic werewolves, the faoladh are amongst some of the most interesting and difficult to investigate, as I discovered while studying them for my Master’s thesis. They were unlike the courtly werewolf knights of the Middle Ages regarding the manner in which they were used as a motif. The faoladh were a warrior metaphor and symbolised fierce behaviour, as well as transformations in character aspects in werewolf stories. The faoladh, who originated from County Tipperary in the west of Ossory, arguably fulfil their role rather well, as they were a fían (warrior band) entirely composed of werewolves. The history of the werewolf fían and the effects of the viking invasions on Ireland are paramount to understanding what these characters are like and how their transformations deviate from the previously discussed conceptions of how a werewolf could transform (McCone 1986, 5–12). To begin with, the tradition of bands of young warriors who live both inside society as well as out, crucially acting like wolves, stems from an Indo-European background. These bands identified themselves “with wolves and dogs as mystical symbols of death … lawlessness and warrior fury”, strongly influenced by the role of the wolf in Germanic mythology (Kaliff and Oestigaard 2022, 1 and 42). Anders Kaliff and Terje Oestigaard state that lycanthropy underwent a reconstruction into “an aspect of the initiation into the warrior class” (Kaliff and Oestigaard 2022, 1). In the context of Ireland, Catherine E. Karkov indicates that the wolf in Ireland is associated “with warriors and outlaws”, which the fían were, and who embraced the wolf in their actions, “hunting … in the manner of wolves” (Karkov 2003, 99) and dressing in wolf skins, calling themselves luchthonn (‘wolf-skins’) (McCone 1986, 16). All rather fitting in the case of the faoladh, one may observe.
The werewolf fían are presented in the Book of Glendalough (ca. 1130)[4] as a ‘Wonder of Ériu’ (Ireland) (Todd 1848, 193). It is found in Todd’s edition of the Lebor Bretnach (‘Book of the Britains’), which professes to be an Irish translation of the ninth-century monk Nennius of Bangor’s Historia Brittonum.[5] However, the text does not belong to Lebor Bretnach, and it is not included in the edition of Lebor Bretnach by Anton Gerard van Hamel (1886–1945) from 1937, where the faoladh are not mentioned at all.
The later manuscripts that used the Book of Glendalough as a source reveal that the faoladh were the descendants of a warrior named Laighnech Faeladh, who could change into a wolf by strength of will; he passed down this ability to his descendants (Todd 1848, 204–205). Etymologically speaking, an argument can be made that the warrior band of the faoladh likely did stem from Laighnech Faeladh since they carry his name. These descendants would instruct their relatives not to move their human bodies, then turn into wolves and would go out to hunt cattle. What is interesting, is that these werewolves did not physically change into wolves, but that the souls of the people left their bodies and entered those of wolves and took control of the body and mind of the animal. However, again, this ability weakened through each generation. This links back quite closely to Todd’s translation of the Lebor Bretnach. The name Laighnech Faeladh is also mentioned in the twelfth-century Irish text, the Cóir Anmann ('Fitness of Names'), which explores the origins of names (Stokes and Windisch 1897, 376–377). Again, the man to whom it pertains and his descendants were able to turn into wolves as Faeladh was the first to do so. Once more, the families of these werewolves were ordered not to move the human bodies as the soul would then not be able to return. As in the previous example in the Book of Glendalough, this ability weakened through the generations with no overt reason as to why.
Here we come to the aspect where Scandinavian cultural influences may have played a role. The Book of Glendalough was written long after the relationship between Ireland and Scandinavia was established, and one has to consider the cultural influences that may have found their way into the manner of the faoladh’s transformation. Because these descendants could no longer shift on their own, they had to make use of wolf coats, which arguably is likely due to Scandinavian influence. In Scandinavian tradition, there appear to be three kinds of metamorphosis: metamorphosis of the soul into an animal, where the body stays in human form, the psychic metamorphosis brought on by fury (mainly for berserkers and úlfheðnar[6]) (Van Zanten 2007, 59–61) and lastly the classic metamorphosis of the body commonly associated with werewolves, brought on by curses, magic and objects such wolf pelts. Einar Ólafur Sveinsson briefly discussed the werewolf motif in Icelandic literature, and states that there are two categories (Sveinsson 1932, 118–119). One category is distinguished by the innate ability to shape-shift, linked quite closely to war and war-like activities. The second category was influenced by the French romances in the thirteenth century, which includes the ‘courtly werewolf’; the transformation was as a result of a spell or a magical object. Within the transformations of the faoladh, it can be stated that the first tradition is quite firmly embedded within the motifs of the story. The faoladh show overt influences in their close link to war, and the family began with an innate ability to shapeshift, before ending up losing that ability over the generations, thus needing the assistance of a wolf pelt.
An engraving of an image on bronze plate discovered in Öland, Sweden. Depicted are an úlfheðnar about to decapitate his enemy on the right and Oden on the left. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Bronspl%C3%A5t_pressbleck_%C3%96land_vendeltid.jpg
Cursed by a saint – The werewolves of Ossory
The werewolves of Ossory are the polar opposites of the faoladh both in how their motif appears and their general temperament. In contrast to the faoladh, the werewolves of Ossory conform closer to Sveinsson's second category of werewolf motifs, for their transformation was brought about by a spell or enchantment, which was further enforced by their wolf pelts. The story is told in Gerald of Wales’s treatise on the geography and folklore of Ireland known as the Topographia Hibernica (Topography of Ireland, written c. 1187). Gerald of Wales (1146–1223) was a royal clerk to King Henry II of England (1133–1186) as well as an archdeacon and historian. In the Topographia Hibernica, he relayed to the King’s brother, Prince John, “some wonderful occurrences”. Gerald’s account is an interesting example of medieval Irish werewolves (Forester 2000, 44–47). The werewolves of Ossory were a man and a woman, natives of Ossory, who were afflicted by an old curse placed on Ossory by one Natalis, a saint and abbot. The man and woman of Ossory are compelled to turn into wolves every seven years. At the end of the seven years, if these two people survive, two others are forced to take their places. The formerly cursed people return to their country and regain their human form. It is unknown how many werewolves there were before the present pair but what can be stated, is that they likely were not warriors. Hence, why the werewolves of Ossory do not conform to Sveinsson's first category of werewolf motifs: the shapeshifting ability was not innate and they did not have a war-linked quality.
Illustration of the priest giving the Last Sacrament to the dying female werewolf in Topographia Hibernica. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Werewolves_of_Ossory.png
Interestingly, much like the faoladh, the werewolves of Ossory possess an element that can be argued to be influenced by Scandinavian motifs: their transformation was brought about by the wolf skin, which is the source of their lupine forms. For when the priest in Gerald of Wales’s account dares to lift away the wolf-skin from the dying she-wolf, it is revealed she was fully human underneath. Unlike the faoladh, whose ability to transform was tied to both their bloodline at first and then the wolf-skin pelts, the transformations of the he-wolf and the she-wolf is as a result of a curse and, through that, a magical pelt.
Arguably, the amalgamation of Irish and Scandinavian influences embedded within the motifs of the transformation of the werewolves of Ossory, suggest that by the time Gerald of Wales wrote his Topographia Hibernica, the influences that the Scandinavians had upon the Irish were quite overt.
The father and son werewolves – Sigmundr and Sinfjötli
Now, we turn to the third and final case study: the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli, which features prominently in the Völsunga saga, a late thirteenth-century poetic rendition in Old Norse of the origin and decline of the Völsung clan. This story stands out as there is evidence of the werewolf motif throughout the entire saga (Völsunga saga 8, zie Finch 1965). The saga begins with the death of King Völsungr, who is killed by Siggeir, the husband of his daughter Signy. Siggeir captures all ten sons of the king and leaves them to a rather gnarly fate. They are bound to trees in the forest and left to the mercy of Sigi, to the mother of King Siggeir who transforms herself into a wolf to eat nine sons of King Völsungr. Only Sigmundr, the tenth son, survives due to Signy smearing him with honey so Sigi would only lick him. After killing Sigi by biting off her tongue, Sigmundr helps Signy get revenge for the death of their father and brothers by training her sons in fosterage. Both boys fail the test and Signy allows them to die. Finally, disguised as a völva (a pagan priestess and mouthpiece of the Fates), Signy visits her brother and conceives a third son with him named Sinfjötli, who does pass the tests and completes the training. Together, they eventually slay Siggeir.
Though this transformation by Sigi into a she-wolf hints at the werewolf motif, the most well-known and compelling instance occurs in the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli. The werewolf motif appears during one of the incidents that occurs while attacking and raiding the people of Siggeir’s territories. Sigmundr takes Sinfjötli out into the woods for the purpose of accustoming his son to hardship and to know his “animal nature” as a fully trained warrior. During this rite, they came across a hut. Inside the hut were two sleeping men, who were two sons of Siggeir, “with thick golden rings”. “A spell had been cast upon them: wolfskins (úlfahamir) hung over them … and only every tenth day could they shed the skins”. Sigmundr and Sinfjötli “put the skins on and could not get them off.” Through this they are transformed into wolves. While in wolf form, they agree that each of them may fight up to seven men by himself but if there are more, the other should call for assistance. They go their separate ways, and not too long after taking leave from his father, Sinfjötli comes across and bests eleven men without keeping his promise and calling on his father. Sigmundr finds his son seriously injured but Sinfjötli boasts of his accomplishment, which sends Sigmundr into a blind fury. Sigmundr inflicts a deadly wound on his son for his “arrogance” and “he cursed the wolfskins, bidding the trolls to take them.” A raven, the messenger of Óðinn, brings a magical leaf that heal Sinfjötli. Father and son are both relieved once they are able to take the pelts off and burn them.
From the story, a case can be made that Sigmundr and Sinfjötli’s transformation conformed largely to Sveinsson's second theory of the werewolf motif, much like the werewolves of Ossory. The pelts put them under a spell, which made them behave more viciously and animalistically and kept them under the spell for ten whole days. The transformations that Sigmundr and Sinfjötli underwent were facilitated by two magical pelts that cursed the people who wore them, not an innate ability to shapeshift or a war-like quality, which one might expect from two warriors. Nor was it expressed in the Völsunga saga that the family ever had the ability and lost it, like the faoladh. During those ten days, both characters were compelled to behave as wolves would. The only hint of evidence of Sveinsson's first theory being applicable to the motifs embedded within Sigmundr and Sinfjötli is the link to war and war-like activities. Both of them are warriors and have possible links to Óðinn, god of war. Thus, it can be stated that the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli illustrates how the two theories of Sveinsson are able to meld together through a magical pelt that brings out the “animal nature” even further through the transformations of the two warriors.
In order to establish where the possible influences in the Irish and Scandinavian werewolf traditions lie, the motifs present in saga literature needs to be taken into account. In saga-literature, there is evidence of an old tradition of werewolf motifs that predates the Völsunga saga. The poems of the Eddic tradition,[7]Eddic poetry is essentially a body of poetry in the Edda on the topic of Old Nordic mythology and Old Nordic and/or Germanic heroes. They were believed have been preserved intact in oral tradition from pagan times, but are now seen as having originated from different periods in time. which constitute one of two categories of poetic tradition practised by the Norsemen before the Viking Age, reveal that the werewolf motif is present in older material. In relation to Sigmundr and Sinfjötli, Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir states that the connection of the family to wolves in the Völsunga saga is a clear indication of Eddic influence (Guðmundsdóttir 2007, 286–287). The thirty-fourth stanza of the Helgakviða Hundingsbana I is cited by her as the clearest evidence, where Sinfjötli is dubbed Ylfingr (wolfling). His opponent Guðmundr (called Granmarr in chapter nine of the Völsunga saga) reminds Sinfjötli of his association with wolves and his nature as a werewolf with the words “’neath stones didst dwell in woody wasted, with the wolves howling”. Guðmundsdóttir states thus the epic indicates the werewolf motif present in the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli is old and “deeply rooted” in the structure of the saga.
It was also not uncommon to read about battle-frenzied warriors such as berserkers and úlfheðnar changing into “so called were-animals” by the use of wolf-pelts, or bear-pelts, which can be seen in the motifs of all three stories. Indeed, both of these warriors were considered to be animal warriors. These warriors would channel the power and spirit of the creature they wished to become. Norse stories describe how aspects of animal bodies appear to be “hidden and asleep” in the human body and under the correct circumstances, can be awakened and utilised to the advantage of the human, such as in the case of shape-changers, not werewolves alone.
Snorri Sturluson (1179–1241) wrote in his Heimskringla of the significant achievements done by powerful and skilled warriors, including those of the berserker and the úlfheðnar. The famous stanzas that identify these warriors are preserved in the following passage: “Savage berserkers roaring mad, and champions fierce in wolf-skin clad, howling like wolves; and clanking jar, of many a mail-clad man of war” (Monsen and Smith 1932, 67). Before a battle, the berserker knew how to get into a state similar to frenzy or madness, which was known as berserkergangr (battle fury). The ninth-century skald (a poet who composed skaldic poetry
Snorri Sturluson, illustration by Christian Krogh (1899). Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Snorre_Sturluson-Christian_Krohg.jpg
Another saga that makes mention of shape-shifting and wolf-like creatures is Egil saga (The Saga of Egil), commonly attributed to Snorri Sturluson. A key passage in chapter 27 reveals how Kveldúlf ('Eveningwolf') Skallagrim and his men attack the crew of King Harald Fairhair’s ship in a murderous rage. This story narrates a “family history” of being able to become “wolf-like creatures”, which suggests the ability to shapeshift is genetic. Kveldúlf was a hamramr (shapeshifter) who could also transform into a wolf through his rage. In this passage of the saga, the term hamramr is used synonymously with berserkergangr: the battle fury (Tuczay 2015, 66). Kveldúlf’s son Grim possessed supernatural powers after sundown (hamask) but could not shift his form, due to the family powers being diluted through the generations. Grim’s son Egil could not shift, but could be taken with rage, described as reiðr (enraged).
Perhaps unsurprisingly, the berserkergangr tradition together hand in hand with wolf metamorphosis can be found in the story of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli. These motifs suggest that the Völsung clan was a wolf-clan as úlfheðnar or a wolf warrior clan “that performs its deeds in the name of the wolf” in relation to their aforementioned possible connection with Óðinn. In his Ynglingasaga, Snorri portrays the berserkers as the warriors of Óðinn, which may hint further to an implied connection between the family and the god. However, it should be noted that it is unclear how deep the connection runs, despite the fact that Guðmundsdóttir insists that the transformation of Sigmundr and Sinfjötli brought them closer to and identify themselves with Óðinn.
The story of Kveldúlf and the tradition of the úlfheðnar to fight in the name of a patron arguably sounds very similar to story of the faoladh and their custom of swearing an oath to their patron. The faoladh, like the fían, offered their services to the king, who paid them to fight in his name. Their actions are legally on the behest of their patron, which was a defining trait of the fían. Furthermore, their loss of power through the generations runs parallel to what happened to the faoladh. The manner in which the úlfheðnar are described in Scandinavian sources could also indicate a cultural influence on the faoladh. There are similarities present between the motifs seen in Egil saga and the faoladh and their ability to shapeshift, which gets lost through the generations until only the psychic metamorphosis of the berserkergangr is accessible to the descendants. Like the úlfheðnar, the faoladh dressed in wolf skins and were “especially furious and cruel in battle”. An argument can be made that, together with the compliance to Sveinsson's first and then later second tradition of werewolf traditions, there is compelling evidence of a marriage of Irish and Scandinavian traditions.
The motifs seen in the werewolves of Ossory relate to Sigmundr and Sinfjötli and other saga-literature in the manner that all four characters were transformed through the use of a magical pelt. In every other aspect, the werewolves of Ossory differ in that they retained their human mind, were cursed by a saint and were not warriors of any kind.
The ongoing academic discussion
The extent to which it can be stated with absolute certainty that the Scandinavian traditions influenced the motifs see in the faoladh and the werewolves of Ossory is difficult to ascertain with a tone of finality. Aðalheiður Guðmundsdóttir wrote that “Irish sources … contain some variants of the motif that are comparable to the … variants discussed above.” They include “the symbolic association of hounds and wolves with warriors (úlfheðnar), a soul that takes on the form of a wolf while the body sleeps, a saint who punishes people by turning them into wolves, and … aggressive female werewolves.” (Guðmundsdóttir 2007, 292) These motifs have been discussed by academics previously. John Carey argued that the werewolf legend in Ireland is native and claimed that Irish sources likely influenced the Scandinavian sources due to scarce werewolf sources earlier than the Völsunga saga (Carey 2002, 71). Guðmundsdóttir does not concur with Carey as she correctly points out that the werewolf motif is also seen back in “the older Eddic material”. She states it's “possible” that the viking invasions influenced the Irish sources, especially since the richest sources of werewolf tradition in Ireland lies around Ossory, whose rulers had close political and diplomatic ties with Scandinavian warriors. A case can be made that an inadvertent effect on the werewolf motif is more than a mere “possibility” due to the substantial influence the Scandinavians had on the land, language and culture of Ireland. As discussed previously, werewolves are cultural products; it is inconceivable that the vikings left little impact on them. It is indeed “difficult” to say with absolute certainty where each link lies concretely, but it can be argued that it is considerable in the case of the faoladh, the werewolves of Ossory, and Sigmundr and Sinfjötli.
Guðmundsdóttir claims that “we are on firmer ground” when it comes to seeing over influences in medieval sources (Guðmundsdóttir 2007, 292), specifically comparing the tradition of ‘the courtly werewolf’ as seen in in Bisclavret and its ilk, mentioned briefly in the introduction, and four medieval sagas: Úlfhams saga, Ála flekks saga, Tíódels saga and Jóns saga leikara. In Úlfhams saga, a warrior called Vargstakkr and his men are cursed to turn into wolves and wander the forest every winter. It draws “on partly Celtic material and partly Old Norse, along with some original additions” in its motifs. Ála flekks saga sees the protagonist Áli also cursed and only saved because his humanity is recognised through the wolf by his foster-mother. In the Tíódels saga, Tíódel has the ability to transform into different animal forms including a wolf, a white bear and a grey bear. He becomes trapped in his white bear form by his deceitful wife. Guðmundsdóttir (2007, 298) points out that the motifs are close to those of Bisclavret, citing that the saga “doubtlessly” got inspired by Bisclaretz ljód (the Old Norse translation of Bisclavret) despite overt dissimilarities. She then claims it is “unlikely” that the scribe used the Old Norse version and used “another, independent source” without explaining her hypothesis. Finally, Jóns saga leikara includes the motif of an evil stepmother who changes the protagonist, the king’s son Sigurðr, into a wolf by striking him with enchanted wolfskin gloves. Here, both the influence of a wolf pelt and a magical enchantment are present in the motif. Margaret Schlauch believes that there is an Irish origin regarding the motif of the evil stepmother and the motif of the werewolf. However, the motif of an evil stepmother turning her stepson into a werewolf appears in other cultures apart from Ireland. It appears, for example, in almost all Norse sources.
It is thus unlikely the Irish sources influenced the Norse sagas, for Irish motifs would have embedded themselves in the sagas. It is clear that the werewolves in these sagas conformed closer to the ‘courtly werewolf’ than the warrior image that influenced the faoladh and Sigmundr and Sinfjötli. Guðmundsdóttir surmises that the ‘courtly werewolf’ depiction “romanticised” the image of the werewolf, resulting in its shift from a shape-shifter people believed in with connection to animal warriors and outlaws to a fairy-tale figure. However, as Peter Bystrický writes, during the medieval era people began to explain the origin of werewolves by curses or other supernatural interventions (Bystrický 2015, 798). It is likely that the saga authors started to conform to this line of thought.
Werewolves as cultural products existed in Irish and Scandinavian sources and as native and imported traditions came in contact, they influenced each other and led to a combination of motifs. This influence continued into the medieval era. The cultural relationship between Celtic, Irish included, and Scandinavian werewolf motifs is a marriage of equals as “stories rooted in the Celtic tradition were coloured by the Old Norse narrative while older Norse stories came under the influence of the Celtic tales” through the chivalric literature (Guðmundsdóttir 2007, 303). The statement has more than enough merit to compliment it, for influence goes both ways when two cultures come into contact with one another.
Werewolves standing at the forest edge at night. Illustration by Maurice Sand, from Légendes rustiques by George Sand, Paris, Bibliothèque des Arts décoratifs, 1858. Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Loup_garou_02.jpg
To conclude, there is a cultural relationship between the werewolf motifs as seen in the stories of the faoladh, the werewolves of Ossory, and Sigmundr and Sinfjötli, with the Scandinavian side of the relationship appearing to be the most dominant. All the transformations of the characters conform to one of Sveinsson's categories of werewolf, conform to one of three traditional forms of metamorphosis and the transformations involve a magical pelt. The faoladh with each generation lost the ability to shift out of their human bodies and into wolf ones, thus they had to make use of wolf coats. This relates closely to the battle-frenzied warriors such as berserkers and úlfheðnar and the loss of the ability to shapeshift links closely to a story in Egils saga. In the Völsunga saga, the transformations that Sigmundr and Sinfjötli underwent were facilitated by two magical pelts that cursed the people who wore them. The pelts were responsible for both physical and psychic metamorphosis as both characters were compelled to behave as wolves would for the ten days they were trapped. Regarding the werewolves of Ossory, their transformation was facilitated by the curse of a saint and a magical pelt that only transformed them physically; it did not make them think like wolves.
As with other cultural products, the extent to which the Norse influenced the Irish and vice versa is difficult to gauge concretely, but should not be discounted. The viking invasions of Ireland had a profound effect on not just the land, but also the cultural links between Irish and Scandinavian werewolves and the motifs that surround them. The close ties of Ossory to viking warriors cannot be ignored, for the longer two cultures interact with one another, the likelihood of influence also increases. What is clear is that the Scandinavian werewolf motifs have coloured the Irish ones and left lasting impressions on the werewolf motifs that carried on into the medieval era and saw the evolution of the werewolf as a warrior motif into the ‘courtly werewolf’ due to further cultural osmosis.
Notes
Bibliography
Bystrický, Peter, ‘The image of the werewolf in medieval literature’, Historický Časopis 63 (2015) 787–812.
Carey, John, ‘Werewolves in medieval Ireland’, Cambrian medieval Celtic studies 44 (2002) 37–72.
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