East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages (450–1450_ 60) Stanisław Rosik - The Slavic Religion in the Light of 11th- and 12th-Century German Chronicles (Thietmar of Merseburg, Adam of Bremen
East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages (450–1450_ 60) Stanisław Rosik - The Slavic Religion in the Light of 11th- and 12th-Century German Chronicles (Thietmar of Merseburg, Adam of Bremen
General Editors
volume 60
By
Stanisław Rosik
Translated by
Anna Tyszkiewicz
LEIDEN | BOSTON
Preparation and translation of the publication financed under the
program of the Minister of Science and Higher Education in Poland under
the name “National Program for the Development of Humanities” in
2012–2014.
Cover illustration: The so-called “bear”, ancient sculpture from around Strzegomiany near Mount Slęża
(now at the top of the mountain), Stanisław Rosik.
Typeface for the Latin, Greek, and Cyrillic scripts: “Brill”. See and download: brill.com/brill-typeface.
ISSN 1872-8103
ISBN 978-90-04-27888-2 (hardback)
ISBN 978-90-04-33148-8 (e-book)
Introduction 1
Conclusions 383
1 On the Historical Stage 383
2 The Perspective of Theology and Culture Confrontation 386
3 Argumentum ex interpretatione … 389
Bibliography 391
Index of Ancient Historical, Biblical and Mythical Figures 428
Index of Modern Authors 435
Figures and Map
Figures
1 Reconstruction of the Slavonic temple from Gross Raden (11th c.), Stanisław
Rosik 101
2 The small bronze figure of a horse from Wolin (11th c.), Muzeum Regionalne im.
Andrzeja Kaubego w Wolinie / The Regional Andrzej Kaube Museum in
Wolin. 130
3 Mount Ślęża, Stanisław Rosik 150
4 The so called “bear”, ancient sculpture from around Strzegomiany near Mount
Slęża (now at the top of the mountain), Stanisław Rosik 156
5 The so called “sviatovid” from Wolin (9th c.), The Institute of Archaeology
and Ethnology PAS, Centre for Medieval Archaeology of the Baltic Region in
Szczecin, Stanisław Rosik 340
6 Cape of Arkona, Stanisław Rosik 362
Map
“Slavic tribes between Oder and Elbe in 10th–12th c.”, Krzysztof Wachowiak
(University of Wrocław) x
MAP 1 Slavic tribes between Oder and Elbe in 10th–12th c.
Krzysztof Wachowiak (University of Wrocław)
Introduction
1 Erwin von Wienecke, Untersuchungen zur Religion der Westslawen, (Forschungen zur Vor-
und Frühgeschichte) 1 (Leipzig: Harrassowitz, 1940), pp. 23 ff.
2 Herbert Achterberg, Interpretatio Christiana. Verkleidete Glaubensgestalten der Germanen
auf deutschem Boden, (Form und Geist. Arbeiten zur germanischen Philologie) 19 (Leipzig:
Hermann Eichblatt Verlag, 1930).
(London: Allen Lane/Penguin Press, 1993) [Polish trans. Tworzenie Europy. Podbój, kolonizacja
i przemiany kulturowe 950–1350, trans. Grażyna Waluga (Poznań: PTPN, 2003)].
4 Introduction
that was shaped a millennium ago.6 Elements propagating this point of view
also condition – as a result of cultural imputation – the present-day research-
ers’ reflections on the religion of the old Slavs. In order to reduce this phe-
nomenon, especially with regard to pejorative evaluations, it is advised to
use terminology alternative to the word “pagan.”7 Such examples include the
phrases and words “pre-Christian,” “native,” or “primary.” However, these terms
are not flawless either.8 For these many reasons, especially in research on the
Barbaricum peoples’ religions, maintaining diligence in using the aforemen-
tioned terminology, so as to reduce the scale of unintentional imputations and
associations, is of key importance.9
The image of “pagans” and “paganism” in Christian circles during the
Christianization of Europe has become the subject of separate studies on
culture, especially ones inspired by phenomenology10 and later also by
6 See Lech Leciejewicz, Nowa postać świata. Narodziny średniowiecznej cywilizacji europe-
jskiej (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2000; 2nd ed. 2007) [trans.
La nuova forma del mondo. La nascita della civiltà europea Medievale, trans. Claudio
Madonia (Bologna: Società editrice il Mulino, 2004)].
7 The terms “paganism” and “pagan” have been used in the following work especially in
the context of quoting and analyzing medieval sources as immanent elements of their
content, as well as in quotations from texts of the authors from the last two centuries –
they used this terminology as synonymous to “pre-Christian” or “native”, thus without an
a priori intention of judging negatively the non-Christian religion. In terms of historiogra-
phy in the 20th century, in Poland for example the usage of the aforementioned terminol-
ogy was neutralized in terms of the worldview, and so it was in the primary version of the
following dissertation published in 2000.
8 In reference to the Slavs, none of the terms above embody the fact of infiltration of some
elements of Christianity into the sphere of their religion before Christianization. Moreover,
the first of the terms still uses Christianity as the point of reference. Furthermore, defining
Slavic religion as “native” may suggest that Christianity is a foreign phenomenon for mod-
ern Slavic nations, which favors ideological contestation of European cultural heritage
due to the presence of an element of Christianity in it (this tendency is illustrated among
others by reactivating the phantasmata, that rooted in the XIX-century Romanticism, in
the debates on Polish identity in present-day Europe); see e.g. Maria Janion, Niesamowita
Słowiańszczyzna. Fantazmaty literatury (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Literackie, 2007).
9 However, the clash between Christianity and paganism should be interpreted in this case
not only in terms of theologically conditioned contradiction, but also in the categories of
cultural border (because some elements of primary beliefs or cult presented in medieval
sources could even go unrecognized as religious phenomena by the authors).
10 Especially see Hans-Dietrich Kahl, “Die ersten Jahrhunderte des missionsgeschichtlichen
Mittelalters. Bausteine für eine Phänomenologie bis ca. 1050,” in Kirchengeschichte als
Missionsgeschichte, vol. 2: Die Kirchen des früheren Mittelalters, part 1, ed. Knut Schäferdiek
(München: Kaiser, 1978), pp. 11–76.
Introduction 5
11 E.g. Lutz E. von Padberg, “Christen und Heiden. Zur Sicht des Heidentums in ausgewähl-
ter angelsächsischer und fränkischer Überlieferung des 7. und 8. Jahrhunderts,” in
Iconologia sacra. Mythos, Bildkunst und Dichtung in der Religions- und Sozialgeschichte
Alteuropas. Festschrift für Karl Hauck, ed. Hagen Keller, Nikolaus Staubach (Berlin/
New York: De Gruyter, 1994), pp. 291–312; Christian Lübke, “Zwischen Triglav und
Christus. Die Anfänge der Christianisierung des Havellandes,” Wichmann-Jahrbuch des
Diözesangeschichtsvereins Berlin (NF 3) 34/35 (1994–1995), pp. 15–35; Robert Bartlett,
“From Paganism to Christianity in Medieval Europe,” in Christianization and the Rise of
Christian Monarchy. Scandinavia, Central Europe, and Rus’ c. 900–1200, ed. Nora Berend
(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007), pp. 47–72; Hans-Werner Goetz, Die
Wahrnehmung anderer Religionen und christlich-abendländisches Selbstverständnis im
frühen und hohen Mittelalter (5.–12. Jahrhundert), vol. 1 (Berlin: Akademie Verlag, 2013),
and in the wider context of cultural studies on the mythical origins of Slavic peoples see
also especially Jacek Banaszkiewicz, Polskie dzieje bajeczne Mistrza Wincentego Kadłubka
(Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1998).
12 One must emphasize, however, that the methodological standpoints of Eliade and of
Dumézil have been criticized in the last decades.
6 Introduction
13 See especially Florin Curta, The Making of the Slavs. History and Archaeology of the Lower
Danube Region, c. 500–700, (Cambridge Studies in Medieval Life and Thought: Fourth
Series) (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 2001); idem, “Tworzenie Słowian. Powrót
do słowiańskiej etnogenezy,” in Nie-Słowianie o początkach Słowian, ed. Przemysław
Urbańczyk (Poznań/Warszawa: PTPN, 2006), pp. 27–55.
14 It is worth mentioning that in the views of religious scholars magic is usually juxtaposed
with religion as relating to the cult of God/gods – e.g. Émile Durkheim, Elementarne
formy życia życia religijnego. System totemiczny w Australii, trans. Anna Zadrożyńska, ed.
Elżbieta Tarkowska (Warszawa: PWN, 1990) [orig. Les formes élémentaires de la vie reli-
gieuse. Le systeme totémique en Australie, (Paris: Alcan, 1912)]; Geo Widengren, Religions
phänomenologie, (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1969), p. 8; Anders Hultgård, “Runeninschriften und
Introduction 7
An important role is also played here by a reference to the sphere of laws and
customs of the barbarians, with whom it constituted an integral unity.15
In the corpus of sources available for studying the religion of Slavs, each of
the three chronicles selected for this particular research – those of Thietmar
of Merseburg (d. 1018), Adam of Bremen (d. after 1081) and Helmold of Bosau
(d. after 1177) – is of the same, primary importance as the lives of St. Otto of
Bamberg, the Gesta Danorum by Saxo Grammaticus, the Primary Chronicle by
Nestor the Chronicler, and possibly the Chronicle of Bohemians by Cosmas of
Prague. Each of the works listed above constitutes a comprehensive source
material for the issue of interpreting primary Slavic religion, and each of them
could serve as the basis for a separate monograph. The method of analysis cho-
sen for this study requires an analytical core comprising three monographic
studies of particular chronicles (Chapters 2–4). The juxtaposition of the results
of those analyses enables the formulation of general remarks summarizing
their contribution to the studies on medieval interpretation of pre-Christian
Slavic religion.
The first chapter lays a crucial groundwork by investigating the history of
research on this topic, namely characterizing the scope and aspects of the
selected problem, and formulating postulates that will enable verification of
the previous findings and demarcation of a wider perspective of analysis. In
this case the key role is played by empiricism, i.e. by the analysis of sources
touching upon particular examples of the interpretation of primary religions,
and taking into account the originality of the views of the medieval authors.
On this basis alone has an attempt been made to draw conclusions. The com-
parative framework, important for this research procedure, emerges from the
juxtaposition of works representing the same historiographical genre (gesta)
and – perhaps even more importantly – written by representatives of the
Saxon church milieu at the stage of its engagement with the conversion of
Polabian Slavs.
Those narratives were written over the course of almost two centuries,
which allows for identifying some of the more durable tendencies of their au-
thors and their environment in approaching primary religions with a specific
ethnic character. Interpretations of native Slavic beliefs are thus considered as
socio-cultural facts, rooted in the historic hic et nunc existence of the chroni-
clers, demonstrating certain attitudes and judgements conditioned by ideas
functioning within a culture, including the doctrinal element of Christianity.
Its specific dimension is manifested in distinct textual images, petrified and
unrepeatable owing to their authors’ individual intentions (in addition to
those of later copyists’).
This book is an updated version of a doctoral dissertation published in
2000,16 which in the succeeding few years gained an important context through
the synthesis of Barbarian Europe by Karol Modzelewski,17 and also through
further research on the perception of “others” in German historiography on
the 11th–12th centuries,18 in addition to the contacts between Germany and
Slavdom itself in the Middle Ages.19 “Stepping into the same river” after nearly
fifteen years has allowed me to develop some analyses further and verify cer-
tain partial findings (at the level of subchapters).20
Results of the studies from the first edition of this dissertation have already
been made available for a non-Polish audience in its German summary and
several later publications.21 However, the scope of those publications was
rather limited. I would like to express my gratitude to Professor Florin Curta
(University of Florida) for encouraging me to prepare a full, updated version
of the work in English and for the invitation to publish it as a part of a se-
ries at the Brill Publishing House. I would also like to thank to Brill Publishing
House for the kind and exemplary coordination of editorial works. Similarly,
I am very grateful to Dr Bryan Kozik and Dr Gregory Leighton for the editing of
the manuscript of this book. Translation into English was financed as a part of
the National Programme for the Development of Humanities (project by the
Ministry of Science and Higher Education in Poland).
19 Christian Lübke, Fremde im östlichen Europa. Von Gesellschaften ohne Staat zu versta-
atlichten Gesellschaften (9.–11. Jahrhundert) (Köln/Weimar/Wien: Böhlau 2001); idem,
“Pogańscy Słowianie i chrześcijańscy Niemcy. Tożsamości mieszkańców Połabszczyzny
w VIII–XII w.,” in Bogowie i ich ludy. Religie pogańskie a procesy tworzenia się tożsamości
kulturowej, etnicznej, plemiennej i narodowej w średniowieczu, ed. Leszek P. Słupecki
(Wrocław: Chronicon, 2008), pp. 73–84.
20 Important methodological inspiration and substantial contribution in the form of de-
tailed research results in the modernized edition was the research on social and cultural
memory (memoria) – in practice mainly hagiography – of St. Otto of Bamberg in the 12th
c., within which the postulated continuation of studies on interpretation of the religion of
the Slavs, which was declared in the first version of this study, was largely conducted, see:
Stanisław Rosik, Conversio gentis Pomeranorum. Studium świadectwa o wydarzeniu (XII
wiek) (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2010).
21 See: Rosik, Interpretacja, pp. 354–363; idem, “Rudes in fide gentilium populi … Fortdauer
der Anzeichen des Heidentums zur Zeit der Christianisierung der Slawen im Lichte der
deutschen narrativen Quellen des 11. und 12. Jahrhunderts,” Questiones Medii Aevii novae 7
(2002), pp. 45–76; idem, “Greeks and Romans in pagan Wolin. Integrating the Barbarians
into the collective memory of the Latin West at the time of the conversion of the Slavs,”
in Rome, Constantinople and Newly-Converted Europe, Archaeological and Historical
Evidence, vol. 1, ed. Maciej Salamon et al. (Kraków/Leipzig: GWZO / Rzeszów: Instytut
Archeologii Uniwersytetu Rzeszowskiego / Warszawa: IAE PAN, 2012), pp. 195–201.
Chapter 1
1 A bumper issue of Aleksander Brückner’s works Mitologia słowiańska i polska, [The Slavic
and Polish Mythology] edited with an introduction by Stanisław Urbańczyk (Warszawa:
PWN, 1985), which encompasses: “Wierzenia i stosunki rodzinne,” in Encyklopedia polska AU,
vol. 4 (Kraków, 1912), p. 148–187; idem, Mitologia słowiańska (Kraków, 1918); Mitologia polska.
Studium porównawcze (Kraków, 1924); “Mythologische Thesen,” trans. Stanisław Urbańczyk,
in Archiv für Slavische Philologie 40 (1926), pp. 1–21; “Ludy bałtyckie. Pierwotna wiara i kulty,”
in Polska, jej dzieje i kultura, vol. 1, ed. Stanisław Lam (Warszawa, 1929), pp. 4–50.
The Old Polish pantheon was to be born in the quiet refuge of canon
Joannes’s chamber filled with vellums. How then was he to find information
about Polands’ deities five centuries after the baptism of Poland? “Easily” –
replies Brückner – “since every idolatry was a work of one and the same Satan,
who caught people in his snares; the same happened everywhere; Greek gods
were the same as the Roman ones; Athena – Minerva, Ares – Mars, and so the
Polans also had their Mars, Pluto, Venus and Jupiter, like the Romans, only
they would be given their own Polish names.”2 In such a way he explained the
medieval interpretatio classica; however, he was of another opinion with ref-
erence to Procopius, an erudite of the late Antiquity: “Procopius scorned the
Slavs like dogs, he did not scrutinize the matter confining himself to an Old
Greek cliché.”3
From the perspective of later discussion, the editor of Brückner’s works
stated that discerning Satan’s acts in the Slavic religion, and more generally
explanations based on a Christian point of view, have referred to interpretatio
Christiana occurring next to a classical point of view.4 It seems, however, that
this conflicted with Brückner’s concept in which the “Roman contribution” in
the case of medieval hagiography became an integral part of Christian inter-
pretation. It was used independently in Ancient times, the evidence of which
may be Procopius’s “cliché”. He referred to ancient Classical tradition taught in
schools, in which a typical interpretation was based on the essence of mythol-
ogy presenting gods as personifications of the forces of nature.5
2 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 222, it can be added that according to Brückner,
Joannes Dlugossius took names of Polish gods from folk songs; cf. also to other places: ibi
dem, p. 37: Dlugossius’s testimony is worthless, which “results from his views on paganism
spreading in the Middle Ages and even later. An act of one devil, invented for the perdition
of humankind, it is uniform, the same gods which were worshipped in antiquity were also
worshipped by all pagans, including ours; only their names changed depending on time and
place.” In addition to this, contrary to Cosmas, who used ancient names, Dlugossius adopted
national terminology; ibidem, p. 217, it is stated that Cosmas could not know any Czech god
and used classical names; later it was emphasized that in Pomerania interpretatio Romana all
too frequently replaced native names (Pluto is mentioned instead of – maybe Veles, Mars ap-
peared regularly; cf. ibidem, p. 255). Ibidem, p. 227: the so called interpretatio Romana, i.e. the
“Roman lecture” – as it was pointed out by Brückner – was conducted also in antiquity with
reference to Celtic and German gods, however, Dlugossius connected Roman gods with non-
existing ones, and next Maciej of Miechów floundered much further in the same direction.
3 Ibidem, p. 257; and ibidem, p. 334: “a cultured Greek would never even dream of collecting
information about Slavic religion; he would do with a rhetorical template. His information is
false and carries no meaning”.
4 Both of them had a distorting influence on accounts of medieval chroniclers on Slavic reli-
gion. See: Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 222 (editor’s note).
5 Ibidem, pp. 46 and 173; cf. footnote 3 in this chapter.
12 Chapter 1
6 Ibidem, pp. 35 f., he decisively rejected origination of the cult of Svantevit of Rügen from
St. Vitus, a patron of missionary monks from Corvey; similarly to the cult of Volos in Rus’
which originated from St. Balazs, considering both of these concepts as ideas of medieval
priests. “Bringing down pagan gods to supposed saints (…) resembles only bygone euhemer-
ism taken over by Rus’ chroniclers and scribes from Greek sources, as they were convinced
(…) that paganism was the same everywhere and worshipped Hellenic or Rus’ gods”. However,
in an old apocryphal “The Home Going of Mary” he indicates an example in which Rus’ gods
were translated as former dignitaries: Perun in Greece, Chors in Cyprus, “Troian” – Roman
Emperor. It can also be added that even Powiest’ wriemiennych let [Tale of Bygone Years] in
“The Philosopher’s Speech” under the year 986, it presents the idea of pagan gods originat-
ing from people (see footnote 9 in this chapter). For a discussion on “euhemeric” genesis of
Svantevit see chapter IV below. The role of “euphemerism” in the church interpretation of
Germanic pantheons was discussed by Achterberg, Interpretatio Christiana, pp. 171 ff.
7 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 174. Brückner compares Procopius’s information
with Helmold of Bosau Chronicle of the Slavs (I, 84) (especially the problem of the “god of
gods”), claiming that “if in this Procopius’s testimony, a school-like cult of Jupiter god of
thunder was recaptured, in Helmold’s work the influence of Christianity is apparent.”
8 Ibidem, p. 184, Brückner persistently claimed that the evolution of Rus’ beliefs outlined in
“The Philosopher’s Speech” came only from Christian tradition. However, E. Anichkov pre-
sented another opinion, his contribution to the discussion was putting emphasis on two
schemes: the first of them referred to the Book of Deuteronomy (Deut 7:5), where there is
a description of overthrowing pagan altars, breaking idols or burning groves, the other one
is a theological qualification based on a reflection on the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans
(Rom 1:25) and discusses preference for putting the creation above the Creator. The author
observed both schemes in “The Philosopher’s Speech” and saw stages of the development of
pre-Christian religions in them, see Evgeniĭ Anichkov, Jazyčestvo i drevnaia Rus’ (Petersburg
Tip. M.M. Stasiulevicha, 1914), pp. 105–126, especially 106, 111, 114. Also Boris A. Rybakov,
Jazyčestwo drievnich slavyan (Moskwa: Nauka, 1981), pp. 10 f., in such periodization in “The
Philosopher’s Speech” has perceived a reflection of real processes preserved in folk memory,
however, presented according to a model borrowed from Greek and Egyptian mythology.
9 For the right passage of “The Philosopher’s Speech” see Povest’ wremennich let, part 1, text and
translation, trans. Dmitriĭ S. Likhachev, Boris A. Romanov, ed. Varvara P. Adrjanova-Peretc
(Moskva/Leningrad: Izdateľstvo Akademii Nauk SSSR, 1950) [further: PVL], p. 64, under the
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 13
year 6494 [986] it was noted that: “They were divided into seventy one peoples and they
left for various countries and each of them developed their own traditions. According to
the devil’s teachings, they made offerings to groves, sources and rivers, and so they did not
know God. (…) Later the devil caused even more insanity among people and they started to
make idols – wooden, copper, some other marble, golden or silver ones; they bowed to them,
brought their sons and daughters to them and made offerings of them, and the whole earth
was defiled. The first idolater was Seruch, he made idols to worship the dead: idols of dead
emperors, heroes and magicians as well adulteresses.”
14 Chapter 1
10 Achterberg, Interpretatio, pp. 169–176. The author emphasizes that diabolisation of the
non-Christian sacrum did not result only from a missionary method, but mainly from
the church doctrine. From among other ways to explain the genesis of pagan gods in a
Christian perspective, Achterberg picks two: reducing them to fallen angels and euhemer-
ization. Finally, however, all interpretation measures were to focus on the kingdom of
darkness and its ruler. Cf. e.g. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 207 f.
11 The discussion below was based on Wienecke, Untersuchungen, pp. 23–29.
12 Ibidem, p. 24.
13 This case was considered a model and normative example of writers’ interference in the
real image of primary religions. Contradictions occurring in particular accounts, accord-
ing to Wienecke, result from various degrees of using the Life of St. Martin by Gregory of
Tours, which was considered the only source of information of Otto’s hagiographers.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 15
in earlier searching in Slavic religious studies (i.e. before 1939) was the uncriti-
cal acceptance of clichés and expressions functioning in the church literary
tradition. To prove how detrimental this was to the credibility of medieval au-
thors, he quoted a few examples from Rus’ and also from western Slavic lands.14
Lastly von Wienecke emphasizes that the first commandment for a monk in
his monastic cell was a sentence from the Book of Exodus (20:4): “Thou shalt
not make to thyself a graven thing.” Hence it was necessary to imagine the cults
treated as pagan following Biblical patterns (i.e. with statues), because other-
wise the sense of the commandment in the word of God would be contested.
In this way of thinking the existence of statues was to be automatically con-
nected with temple objects, the treasury and offerings, etc. The use of stereo-
typical collocations by medieval authors was to result in creating images of
Slavic religion separated from its historical reality.15 In a later part of his argu-
ment, von Wienecke notes that in this case, not only was the use of biblical
terminology important, but also the way the essence of non-Christian beliefs
14 E. Wienecke focused on showing that terminology used in particular texts was evidently
of Biblical origin (e.g. Helmold’s ambitum fani, reverentia, etc.) and thus it cannot cer-
tainly refer to the Slavic religion. In a description of the Rus’ idolatry in the Chronicle of
Nestor (about Vladimir placing in 980 a statue of Perun and other deities on a hill, see PVL,
under the year 6488 [980], p. 56) he found the “Devil” which undoubtedly is proof of inter
pretatio Christiana. Wienecke thought it was possible that the whole place came from an
ecclesiastical interpretation for the purpose of creating a foundation legend for St. Basil’s
church. Similarly, the “Philosopher’s Speech” under the year 6494 [986] seemed suspicious
to him (see footnote 9 in this chapter), where a reference to Psalm 106 and Psalm 115 was
noticed. These gold and silver images, according to Wienecke, were to be transferred from
the Bible to a description of the heavily gilded Frey temple in Uppsala (also Redigast’s
temple in Rethra) by Adam of Bremen; Ebo’s comments on Triglav’s image (II, 13 and III, 1)
and even Knytlingasaga (deity’s gold moustache). According to Wienecke, the most de-
termining Biblical place for medieval descriptions was: The Second Book of Chronicles
(2 Chr 15:17; 28:4) and The First Book of Kings (1 Kgs 2:7). The same image was built by
legends about saints: the Monk of Prüfening (III, 10) is a nearly word for word copy of a
fragment of Gregory of Tours’s Book I De virtutibus S. Martini (Otto’s miracle is Martin’s
miracle); a similar influence was exerted on St. Otto’s hagiographers by Sulpicius Severus.
15 E. von Wienecke claimed that sanctities personified in nature were to obtain the name
fanum, and due to the fact that there were usually no shrines (fanum) without deities’ im-
ages, only using this name was to assume their existence, hence it usually occurs in sourc-
es in the form of an expression fanum cum idolis; following this thought von Wienecke
concluded that in minds steeped in Biblical thought, the very existence of paganism pre-
supposed the presence of idolatry: hence the word deus automatically gained its counter-
parts idolum, simulacrum, statua, effigies. Biblical patterns are, among others, The First
Epistle of St. Paul to the Thessalonians and Psalms (Ps 115:4–7 and Ps 135:15–17).
16 Chapter 1
was understood in the spirit of views from the Holy Bible.16 The author also
emphasizes the presence of the element of terror in medieval descriptions of
pagan deities (terribili visu) which, according to him, is also of Biblical origin.17
In this most extensive statement on the interpretation of the Slavic reli-
gion in the medieval historiography or hagiography, von Wienecke followed
Achterberg in the classification of literary terms and motifs along two lines: a
Classical one – the so-called interpretatio classica antiqua (graeca vel Romana);
and the Christian one – the so-called interpretatio Christiana. Von Wienecke
perceived mechanisms of both interpretations as uniform. Just like Greeks or
Romans in ancient times were able to find their own pantheon under different
names in Germanic or Celtic beliefs, medieval monks reduced Slavic deities to
Christian antisacrum.
The occurrence of these trends in the same descriptions – according to von
Wienecke – makes it necessary to consider them as a whole, because the men-
tality of chroniclers was the product of a monastic school, where a synthesis
of the Classical antique and Christianity took place. All interpretation efforts
made in the Middle Ages were defined by von Wieneckeas interpretatio eccle
siastica. This idea introduces chaos because, especially with reference to the
Middle Ages, the differentiation proposed by the researcher between the ad-
jectives ‘church’ and ‘Christian’ is artificial, and without an additional defini-
tion it does not carry much information.18 Thus this postulate was ignored by
scholars, who interchangeably use both names in practice.19
The comments on the church interpretation made by Wienecke at the
start of his work influenced later sections of his book. In this interpretation,
possible confirmation of polytheism in sources was considered as a conse-
quence of Biblical influences. Radical characters of these theses evoked nega-
tive criticism.20 Most of the statements connected with temples and statues,
16 E.g. the Second Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians (2 Cor 6:15): “And what concord hath
Christ with Belial?” inspired the Letter of St. Bruno and Herbord’s description (III, 7),
which according to von Wienecke casts doubt on these reports.
17 E.g. Ps 115 and 135; The Book of Esther (Esth 15:9).
18 In Wienecke’s understanding interpretatio Christiana means Biblical, patristical, hagio-
graphic, liturgical or encompassing monastic rules. However, medieval Christianity, as
perceived by monastic scribes, was a compact culture system based on worldview unifor-
mity, in which there were linguistic and thought structures, including literary ones related
to antique times. This way of thinking was presented by A. Brückner and combined the
so-called Roman lecture with Christian thought.
19 E.g. Gerard Labuda, “Rec. E. Wienecke, Untersuchungen zur Religion der Westslawen,
Leipzig 1939,” Slavia Occidentalis 18 (1947), p. 462.
20 As early as 1941 Thede Palm in Zeitschrift für slavische Philologie; see Špiro Kulišić, Stara
Slovenska religija u svietlu novijih istraživanja posebno balkanoloških (Sarajevo: Akademija
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 17
lands.”23 Being in contact with historical sources today, one may not always
be sufficiently sensitive to reveal the action of these interpretation “glasses”
because one is used to Christian and antique notions. Only reading the works
of Arabic authors allows one to become aware of this type of interpretation.
S. Urbańczyk did not focus on emphasizing the dependence of medieval
texts on the Bible and Christian literature in his examples, yet occasionally
he emphasized episodes which were to show the essence of pagan cults in a
theological perspective.24 However, in an opinion given later, he speaks about
an “interpretation filter” which one should always take into account when
evaluating sources, and this filter is a Christian interpretation which “saw an
embodiment of the Satan in pagan beliefs.”25 He presents a similar position
in the introduction to A. Brückner’s works: “… frequently medieval authors
no longer could or had no skills to reach information about non-Christian be-
liefs, as they could see paganism through Christian theologians’ glasses or the
angle of Greek and Roman mythology (the so called interpretatio Christiana
and interpretatio classica Romana). Both were false. Interpretatio Christiana
requested them to see everywhere the influence of the devil and stupidity. A
perfect example of interpretatio Romana is a description of Polish paganism by
Długosz [Joannes Dlugossius].”26
This idea does not precisely define co-occurrence rules for both interpreta-
tions. Earlier attempts to solve this problem – let us remember – were under-
taken by von Wienecke by introducing the notion of interpretatio ecclesiastica.
In this situation S. Urbańczyk, although adopting A. Brückner’s basic assump-
tion about “one paganism” in the minds of medieval clergy, did not derive the
“Roman interpretation” of the Slavic religion from theological premises, and
he supported Wienecke’s view of double-track tradition – i.e. the tradition
23 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 14. Ibidem, p. 156, there is information about foreign
names of demons penetrating into the Slavic culture from the preaching of sermonisers
who are convinced that there is only one paganism in the whole world, and so they pom-
mel non-existing forms of cults, customs and beliefs there.
24 E.g. ibidem p. 14: “when the Satan in a form of a swarm of flies came out form a pagan idol,
or when a pagan priest died leaving a terrible smell”.
25 Ibidem, p. 125.
26 Ibidem p. 201. Similarly in “Wierzenia dawnych Słowian” [Beliefs of ancient Slavs] first
published in 1991: “In the way of presenting what was seen or heard, chroniclers depended
on their knowledge of the Bible and Greek and Roman mythology, they willingly used
phraseology borrowed from these sources, and Slavic ‘gods’ were given foreign names,
e.g. Jupiter, Diana, Venus, Ceres, Apollo, Hephaestus, etc. They saw Slavic relation as if
through foreign glasses (the so called interpretatio ecclesiastica, classica, romana)” –
ibidem, p. 144.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 19
27 Ibidem, p. 123.
28 Ibidem, p. 144.
29 E.g. ibidem, p. 57: aversion to paganism or its non-understanding were to have influence
on Thietmar to attribute the Slavs a conviction that everything was over at the moment of
death. See below, p. 59.
30 Henryk Łowmiański, Religia Słowian i jej upadek (w. VI–XII) (Warszawa: PWN, 1979), p. 62.
31 See ibidem, pp. 9 ff. (chapter: Prolegomena).
20 Chapter 1
32 On hypothetical prototheism of the Slavs: ibidem, p. 31 ff., especially 37, and to sum up
398 f., cf. Jadwiga Bogdanowicz, Religie w dziejach cywilizacji (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo
Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego, 1995) pp. 43 ff.
33 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 131 f.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 21
“more serious error” – making marble, wooden, copper and gold statues as well
as the offering of one’s own children.34
Contrary to Anichkov, who saw two stages in the development of beliefs
shown in medieval sources with both of these biblical schemes, Łowmiański
attributed both of these trite images to one historical reality. In his research
proposal the alleged interpretation scheme imputed to medieval authors
caused “the deformation of the image of Slavic religion in an amplification
sense, i.e. in the direction of polytheism, however, it did not limit richness of
beliefs transmitted in the old literature: it is exactly the magic for which there
was no place in the scheme, that is represented here in the abundance of facts.
Hence sources, regardless of the scheme, allow all four polydoxy areas to be
learned: cult of nature, cult of the dead, magic and demonology. (…) The image
of polydoxy is blurred only by careless literary methods blurring borders be-
tween actual beliefs and literary borrowings, noted down in literature includ-
ing own speculations or even fables told by the authors.”35
However – to continue Łowmiański’s thought – “in credible sources a small
group of cult objects taken from nature was reflected, and these were some
phenomena of great significance for a farming community (the sun and fire)
and visible settlements of demons, places to make offerings in the form of wa-
ters, groves and stones. In any case a direct cult of the last category cannot
be excluded. Zoolatry cannot be certainly traced in sources. There was a spe-
cial respect for oxen due to their extensive use in farming.”36 Furthermore the
scholar claimed that the cult of nature was so evident in the sources because it
was decisively hostile to the Christian worldview, and disapproval of the clergy
resulted in stigmatising its expressions (although only the most glaring ones,
not all of them). However, a smaller interest of medieval historiographers in
Slavic beliefs related to life after death was to be justified by a certain concur-
rence of notions related to the human soul and Christian beliefs, which did not
lead to as strong a confrontation of viewpoints.37
34 Ibidem, p. 130. See above, pp. 12 f., footnote 9. On Anichkov’s work see p. 12, footnote 8.
35 Ibidem, p. 133. Cf. ibidem, p. 136: “A view typical of Christian literature, that the ‘cult of
creation’ was a characteristic feature of the pagan worldview, requests special caution
in evaluation of the credibility of information on this area of beliefs, whose descriptions
were in danger of being deformed by trite amplifications.” The case of Rus’ could have
been misleading, there occurred polytheism (= cult of gods) and polydoxy (= cult of na-
ture) so the scheme reflected reality, however, due to the fact that demons were called
“gods” there – according to Łowmiański – some lower rank spirits were counted as gods
by the Rus’ writers by mistake (see ibidem p. 132).
36 Ibidem, p. 139.
37 Ibidem.
22 Chapter 1
It is, therefore, not hard to notice that H. Łowmiański did not pay exces-
sive attention to the specificity of sources and the erudition of their authors.
So the strength and edge of the argument derived from Christian interpreta-
tion in his research depended on a priori assumptions, which is confirmed in
a few other particular examples of his analysis of these sources.43 Regardless
of its apparent arbitrariness, H. Łowmiański’s stance on Christian interpreta-
tion of Slavic religion in medieval historiography means significant progress in
research methodology in relation to E. von Wienecke’s findings.44 Łowmiański
drew attention to the fact that not all interpretation schemes have equally de-
forming influence on the image of primary cults and beliefs. Some elements
taken from literature are not treated as Christian or Roman interpretation, but
are considered “purely literary expressions”.45
43 E.g. Ibidem, p. 158, on the basis of a reference in a Rus’ chronicle from the 11th c.: “these are
not gods, only wood” H. Łowmiański claimed that people there did not imagine statues
made of any other material but wood, which allows one to eliminate all figures made
of other materials than wood from Slavic lands. Later, ibidem, p. 180, in a story about a
pagan priest pretending to be a god and threatening pagans that they would lose crops
after christening, Łowmiański claims that the narration about this mystification truly is
an example of missionary propaganda, however, this fabrication shows a general convic-
tion about the protective role of gods. However, he denies that a reference from a sermon
by John Chrysostom about idolators, who make offerings to the moon (see ibidem, p. 99)
was based on historical facts. Similarly according to Łowmiański “euhemerism” in Rus’
writings is only a literary reminiscence (see ibidem, p. 125).
44 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 166: “Wienecke’s criticism was one-sided and did not differentiate
trite content from the description of specific facts, which were quite numerous in these
accounts.”
45 This is a stance on a reference made by Cosmas about worshipping Roman deities by
Czech distant ancestors, ibidem, pp. 204 f.
46 However, even today it is hard to consider this position obsolete, taking into consider-
ation that the skeptical attitude to the reception of comparative models developed in
the 20th c. persisted among the historians of the Slavdom (recently Dariusz A. Sikorski,
Kościół w Polsce za Mieszka I i Bolesława Chrobrego (Poznań: Wydawnictwo Naukowe
UAM, 2011), pp. 62 ff.). However, this trend functions as an alternative for a more common
affirmation for the achievements of anthropology, structural analysis and religious stud-
ies comparatistics, which at the current stage of research does not mean slavish adher-
ence to Dumézil’s schemes criticised by the said skeptics.
24 Chapter 1
47 Leszek Moszyński, Die vorchristliche Religion der Slaven im Lichte der slavischen
Sprachwissenschaft (KölnWeimar/Wien: Böhlau, 1992), p. 127; cf. idem, “Współczesne
metody (etymologiczna i filologiczna) rekonstruowania prasłowiańskich wierzeń,”
Światowit 40 (1995), p. 108.
48 See above, footnote 28 in this chapter.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 25
49 Zdzisław Rajewski, “Święta woda u Słowian – źródła, rzeki, jeziora,” Slavia Antiqua 21
(1974), p. 111: “The value of the documentary basis is varied, e.g. there are accounts of me-
dieval chroniclers, who as followers of the new faith and its arduous propagators, did not
understand much from the essence of pagan beliefs and interpreted them in a Christian
convention, avoiding, as one would assume, detailed descriptions, not to become spokes-
men of ‘devil’s affairs’.”
50 Grażyna Rytter, “O badaniach nad prasłowiańską terminologią religijną,” Slavia
Occidentalis 43 (1986), pp. 129–134: “… accounts of German missionaries and chroniclers
(possibly except for Thietmar) on paganism in Polabia are not free from subjective and
emotive assessment.” It is surprising in this case that Thietmar was considered an excep-
tion (especially in the light of analysis in the further part of this work).
51 Die Slawen in Deutschland. Geschichte und Kultur der slawischen Stämme westlich von Oder
und Neiße vom 6. bis. 12. Jahrhundert, ed. Joachim Herrmann (Berlin: Akademie-Verlag
1985), p. 322: “Für diese Chronisten war die heidnische Religion eine zutiefst feindliche
Ideologie und ihre Vertreter und Anhänger die ärgsten Widersacher, die man zu über-
winden trachtete. Ihre Erzählungen und Berichte stehen daher ganz in diesem Anliegen,
d. h. sie geben ein Bild der heidnischen Religion, das der christlichen Interpretation
unterliegt.”
52 Zdeněk Váňa, The world of the ancient Slavs, trans. Till Gottheiner (London: Orbis, 1983),
pp. 82 f., claims that when the Slavs “did appear on the scene, civilized Europe was already
Christian and was not greatly interested in or showed an understanding of the spiritual
life of barbarians, whom they viewed with condescension and with the sole aim of bring-
ing them at the earliest possible date into the Christian community. Contemporary evi-
dence is not always of equal value; apart from reliable reports by eyewitnesses there is
often second- or third-hand information with various degrees of distortion. Later chroni-
clers, remote in time and thought from the pre-Christian period, added many facts, and
26 Chapter 1
even invented them when they misunderstood popular customs”. Similarly – although
with emphasis on diabolisation and stronger deformation by interpretatio Christiana than
Romana – Zdeněk Váňa, Svět slovanských bohů a démonů (Praha: Panorama, 1990), p. 26.
53 This very general discussion is very accurately summarised in the opinion expressed by
Tadeusz J. Horbacz, Zbigniew Lechowicz, “Archeologia a poznawanie religii,” Z otchłani
wieków 47 (1981) 3, p. 179, who assumed “lack of objectivity” of written sources, which
“even at the stage of their creation were burdened with subjectivity resulting from dif-
ferent culture, worldview and negative emotional attitude of the authors writing about
the religion of the Slavs”. Cf. also e.g. Alfonso M. di Nola, “Slavi,” in Enciclopedia delle
Religioni, ed. Mario Gozzini, vol. 5 (Firenze: Vallecchi, 1973), col. 1138; Andrzej L. Miś,
“Przedchrześcijańska religia Rugian,” Slavia Antiqua 38 (1997), p. 105.
54 Władysław Dziewulski, Postępy chrystianizacji i proces likwidacji pogaństwa w Polsce
wczesnofeudalnej (Wrocław/Warszawa/Kraków: Ossolineum, 1964), p. 9, used the argu-
ment ex interpretatione Christiana, to prove the conviction that the pre-Christian religion
of the Slavs was not inferior in comparison with the spiritual culture of German peoples
in terms of richness of cult forms and beliefs.
55 Witold Hensel, U źródeł Polski średniowiecznej (Wrocław/Warszawa/Kraków: Ossolineum,
1974), pp. 225 f.: “On one hand they did not have much orientation in the environment
in which they happened to be, and on the other hand, they did not look approvingly at
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 27
old pagan practices. They put a lot of energy into showing that forms of old pagan reli-
gious cult were incredibly primeval and primitive.” This view is supported by a conviction
that the Slavs believed in personified deities even earlier than in the 10th c., which was
formed on a general Indo-European culture base (compare earlier references to the work
by Georges Dumézil, Les dieux des Indo-Européens (Paris, 1952) in: Witold Hensel, Polska
przed tysiącem lat (Wrocław/Warszawa: Ossolineum, 1960), p. 193).
56 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 62, footnote 122, based on findings connected with interpretatio
Christiana, polemicises with W. Hensel’s opinion in the following way: 1) medieval au-
thors did not know how to differentiate between pagan primitive and developed cults;
they were generally qualified as abominable superstitions (superstitiones abominabiles);
2) it was thought that a regular element of a pagan cult was worshipping idols, so pa-
ganism maintained the traditional name idolatry, worshipping idols, which is now called
polytheism; it is not possible that polytheism was deliberately concealed; 3) medieval
authors (Thietmar, Adam of Bremen, Helmold, Saxo) are the ones who have presented a
lot of information about pagan gods, their names and temples. Widukind speaks about
Saturn and does not hesitate to compare Slavic polytheism with well-developed Roman
polytheism. Even if Czech authors (Christianus, hagiographers, Cosmas) did not write
about local gods, this was not because they wanted to keep silent on the matter of names
but because of a lack of data. The first and second point actually discredit Hensel’s thesis
on efforts made by clergy scribes to make the Slavic religion look primitive, however, the
third one was dictated by an a priori assumed thesis that there was no polytheism outside
Elbslavs and Rus’, while one should remember that authors writing about figures of gods
referred to cults contemporary to them or quite close in time, whereas in Poland and
Bohemia the official, public pre-Christian cult at Cosmas or in Gallus Anonymous’s times
had not existed for a long time. Moreover, Cosmas attributing Greek and Roman deities to
the Czech, does not do it to devise gods in general (cf. Łowmiański, Politeizm słowiański,
p. 657) but more to dignify the early history of his people with an ancient overtone. Thus
it is hard to draw conclusions on the historical value of the studies on the religion of the
Slavs in his work on this basis.
57 S. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 123.
28 Chapter 1
60 E.g. Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Rec. Festschrift für Walter Schlesinger, Bd. II, herausgegeben von
Helmut Beumann (Mitteldeutsche Forschungen, Bd. 74/II), Böhlau Verlag, Köln-Wien
1974,” Studia Historica Slavo-Germanica UAM 5 (1976), p. 202, in the discussion on the
central temple of the Liutici in Thietmar’s and Adam of Bremen’s descriptions, indicated
that it could not be excluded that allegorical and symbolical motifs (including numbers)
appeared in this case by association with credible data, which was available to the chroni-
clers. The said scholar was rather reserved in his attitude to R. Schmidt’s concept negating
their credibility with reference to details in the descriptions of Radogošč/Rethra exactly
due to the occurrence of literary borrowings and symbolical motifs. See below, p. 221.
61 The existence of elements of this common religious world is perfectly emphasized in the
works of M. Eliade. The key element in this reflection trend is universality of symbols in
shaping forms of religious life, see Leszek Kołakowski, “Mircea Eliade: religia jako paraliż
czasu,” in Mircea Eliade, Traktat o historii religii, trans. Jan Wierusz-Kowalski (Łódź: Opus,
1993), pp. i–vi.
62 Aleksander Gieysztor, Mitologia Słowian, ed. Aneta Pieniądz, introduction Karol
Modzelewski, afterword Leszek P. Słupecki (Warszawa: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu
Warszawskiego, 2006 [1st ed. 1982]), pp. 45, 110 et passim (when taking into account the
way the scholar had treated medieval written sources in his investigations).
30 Chapter 1
Oder (Odra) River, was a cliché and was not true in the reality of the 10th and
11th centuries.63
The panorama presented here, of model exemplifications of the approaches
of researchers working on material from the religion of the Slavs to the cred-
ibility of medieval authors, shows that an element of key significance in the
assessment of the influence of Christian interpretation on the cognitive value
of sources is the nature of methodological assumptions in research proceed-
ings. This is especially evident in the choice the religious studies methodolo-
gies and the different attitudes toward arguments from other disciplines, such
as archaeology, linguistics and ethnography. It is essential that the basis for
conclusions on this issue was the analyses of particular places in texts which
were suspected of “deformations” of the old Slavic reality.
Treatment of some source information about Slavic religion as credible, in
practice, meant assuming that its Christian interpretation (or ancient Classical
one) occurred in only some parts of the works of medieval historiographers,
or – which better depicts the essence of this issue – that there are places in
their texts in which the interpretation of these types is indefinable. However,
even with reference to passages in which there is no doubt about its influence
on the shape of the source, sometimes there are marked discrepancies in the
assessment of its credibility.64 In the context of these observations, special at-
tention should be paid to these efforts, which lead to defining the relations
between the source image of primary religion and its reality, recognized in the
light of historical or archaeological research.
Although these investigations were undertaken in a very one-sided man-
ner, because they referred only to possible “deformation” of past fact in the
medieval literature, they have already allowed some basic findings to be made.
It is especially important that it was established that using literary, biblical
or antique schemes in descriptions of phenomena regarded as paganism did
not always mean deformation of the image of Slavic beliefs and cults. Apart
from this, one should take into account the occurrence of detailed information
63 L eszek P. Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries (Warsaw: IAE PAN, 1994), p. 201. One
should also take note of works in which all names of ancient deities occurring in descrip-
tions of the pre-Christian Slavdom are uncritically accepted and treated as interpreta
tio Romana vel graeca of native supernatural creatures, see e.g. Adam Wirski, “Bóstwo
morskie pogańskich Pomorzan,” in Krzyżowcy, kronikarze, dyplomaci, (Gdańskie studia
z dziejów średniowiecza) 4 (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego, 1997),
pp. 309–327.
64 A clear example for this matter is a discussion about Helmold’s information (I, 84) on
hierarchisation of the Slavic pantheon (an image of “god of gods” and his subordinate dei-
ties); see below pp. 345 ff. Comp. also comments on “The Philosopher’s Speech” discussed
above, see pp. 12 f., 20f.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 31
about those beliefs and cults as purely literary genesis. Observation of these
detailed investigations created premises for reflection on the essence of the
interpretatio Christiana phenomenon and definition of its constituent proce-
dures of the explanation and presentation of Slavic religion.
65 Let us remember that this scholar assumed a different impact of interpretatio Christiana
with reference to various spheres of pre-Christian religion and such a proposal of recon-
struction of a writing procedure allowed him to a priori justify assumption on the devel-
opment of beliefs and cult of the Early Slavdom. The growing number of archaeological
sources and better use of comparatistics in studies on religious research outdated this
position (and particularly E. von Wienecke’s ideas).
32 Chapter 1
Its particular elements do not constitute one harmonious entity, which leads
to a postulate of reaching deeper into the mental and spiritual culture of of
the Middle Ages. The strict subject of research in this case is its textual mani-
festation. The research so far has allowed basic systematization of information
about the Slavic religion to be established.
The qualification of that information enables one to distinguish: 1) literary
borrowings which have nothing in common with historical reality; 2) literary
borrowings related to facts based on association; 3) images of cults and beliefs
presented in biblical convention or referring to antique literature (e.g. para-
phrases, etc.); 4) reality of the religion of the Slavs interpreted only at the level
of Latin or Greek. It is easy to observe that in fact the whole image of pre-
Christian religion in Church sources is interpreted on the basis of worldview,
culture, and language.
Biblical and antique infiltration can be found at several levels of text
structure: 1) language (words, phraseology);66 2) paraphrases, quotations;67
3) templates in the presentation of the arrangement of sacrum recognized as
pagan and the definition of its nature;68 4) general convention of description –
saturation with emotive elements, assessment of paganism, etc.; 5) text motifs
such as commentaries – frequently illustrated with reference to the Bible and
Church literature – or descriptions of events (usually in a miraculous setting).
66 First of all, typical expressions, e.g. Slavic gods – demons, devils (e.g. Svarožic associated
with the devil); religion of the Slavs: polytheism, polydoxy and its objects – ydolatria,
idola, templa, fana etc. One should remember about the contribution of antique notions
(including mythological ones) in medieval Christian thought.
67 E.g. see footnote 16 in this chapter.
68 E.g. “euhemerization” – see above; cf. di Nola, “Slavi,” col. 1147.
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 33
69 Kahl, “Die ersten Jahrhunderte,” p. 37–42, shared Achterberg and Wienecke’s opinion on
the nature of interpretatio Christiana, he also adds a euhemeric motif; however – what is
essential – he located the very phenomenon of interpretation in the context of discus-
sion on mission ideology as an element of a consistent system encompassing theological
justification of particular missionary procedures. This starting point for the discussion
on interpretatio Christiana turns out to be optimum, because exactly in this intellectual
environment of antiquity and the Middle Ages the discussed phenomenon was born (the
very reality of primary religions does not much influence on its theological assessment).
Cf. Brigitte Wavra, Salzburg und Hamburg Erzbistumsgründung und Missiospolitik in karo
linischer Zeit (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1991), pp. 15 ff. The goal of L.E. von Padberg’s
study is to show the mutual image of Christians and pagans in the Early Middle Ages – see
Padberg, “Christen und Heiden,” pp. 291–312. See also above, p. 5, footnote 11.
70 It would be more appropriate to say “historiographic”, however, because of work on me-
dieval historiography, the term “historiographic fact” is not used here, not to cause any
notion-related confusion.
34 Chapter 1
71 It is important here to take into consideration not only individuals and social organiza-
tion forms (within the monarchy, Church etc.) but also the set of rules regulating the
social life and on the other hand some rituals and practices, mainly liturgical, important
for expression of the attitude towards paganism.
72 See Lutz E. von Padberg, “Geschichtsschreibung und kulturelles Gedächtnis. Formen der
Vergangenheitswahrnehmung in der hochmittelalterlichen Historiographie am Beispiel
von Thietmar von Merseburg, Adam von Bremen und Helmold von Bosau,” Zeitschrift für
Kirchengeschichte 105 (1994), pp. 156–177.
73 Maurice Halbwachs, “The Social Frameworks of Memory,” in idem, On collective memory,
trans. Lewis A. Coser (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1992 [orig. ed. 1925]),
pp. 35–191.
74 For inspiring comments on this issue see: Otto Gerhard Oexle, “Obcowanie żywych i
umarłych. Rozważania o pojęciu >>memoria<<”, trans. Marian Arszyński, in Otto Gerhard
Oexle, Społeczeństwo średniowiecza. Mentalność – grupy społeczne – formy życia (Toruń:
Wydawnictwo UMK, 2000), pp. 55–57. At this point the author highlights the insufficiency
of relying only on the sociological aspect in characterization of the collective memory,
criticizing the findings of M. Halbwachs (see above, footnote 73 in this chapter).
Interpretatio Christiana of Old Slavic Religion 35
Due to their individual erudition and writing skills they were able to in-
fluence their own environment, although their mentality did not function
in isolation from the mental background of the social groups to which they
belonged.78 While observing the chronicler’s personal attitude towards pagan-
ism as a whole and to its particular representations on the basis of the sources,
an analysis should consider not only the originality of the literary vision but
firstly the fact of the author’s belonging to a defined intellectual milieu, an
ethnic community within a monarchy and the Church. Placement in such a
context determined the shape of the so-called cultural imputation as a com-
plex factor that influenced the perception of the world of the Slavs, which was,
to varying degrees, strange to the chroniclers.
At the same time, one should take into account the existence of the com-
pletely conscious reflection of chroniclers as erudites and theologians or
politicians, placing Slavic religion in the “world of the text” with respect for
the pragmatic goals (causa scribendi) of his work. Thus relations (mostly con-
frontation) between Christianity and paganism in the sphere of sacrum in the
analyses below will be traced not only with reference to Church issues but also
political issues integrated with them. However, it should also be emphasized
that Christianity and paganism are treated not only in categories of ideologi-
cal and worldview juxtapositions, but also as different cultural systems, par-
ticipating in a community resulting from the fact that both circles are set in a
universal area of human activity and its cultural heritage.
For that reason the working definition of the discussed notion of Christian
interpretation in the light of medieval historiography, proposed here, refers
to the very notion of “interpretation” understood as the entirety of phenom-
ena which contributed to the perception, understanding, and explanation
of the phenomenon of the Slavic religion by its medieval historiographers.
The subject of the research will be notions, views, assessments, symbols, al-
legories, opinions (with particular attention to stereotypes and literary topoi,
which saturate various literary works),79 literary borrowings taken out of con-
80 For a general look at these issues see e.g. Bronisław Geremek, “Umysłowość i psychologia
zbiorowa w historii,” Przegląd Historyczny 53 (1962) 4, pp. 629–643; Paweł Lewicki, “O psy-
chologii historycznej,” Kwartalnik Historyczny 82 (1975) 3, pp. 584–592.
81 A good example of popularization of this trend of research within the humanities near-
ly three decades ago are Todorov’s studies – see: Tzvetan Todorov, Nous et les Autres. La
Réflexion française sur la diversité humaine (Paris: Seuil, 1989).
82 See above, pp. 7–9, footnotes 15, 18, 19, and also e.g. Andrzej Pleszczyński, Niemcy wobec
pierwszej monarchii piastowskiej (963–1034). Narodziny stereotypu. Postrzeganie i cy
wilizacyjna klasyfikacja władców Polski i ich kraju (Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS, 2008); cf.
idem, The Birth of a Stereotype: Polish Rulers and Their Country in German Writings, c. 1000
A.D., (East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages, 450–1450) 15 (Leiden: Brill,
2011).
83 See e.g. Richard van Dülmen, Historische Anthropologie. Entwicklung, Probleme, Aufgaben
(Köln/Weimar/Wien: Böhlau, 2000).
84 See e.g. Peter Burke, What is Cultural History? (Oxford: Polity Press, 2004); cf. idem, Historia
kulturowa. Wprowadzenie, trans. Justyn Hunia (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu
Jagiellońskiego, 2012).
38 Chapter 1
85 In face of petrification of the corpus of medieval written sources, the possibilities of re-
search on the religion of the Slavs is constantly increased by the development of archeo-
logical research. General development of thought in religious studies is also of importance
here. The “canonical” compilation of written sources collected by Fontes historiae religio
nis Slavicae, ed. Karl H. Meyer, Fontes historiae religionis 4 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1931) lacks
the passage from William of Malmesbury’s chronicle which, however, was used in the
1930s by Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 507, as a source on the religion of the Liutici (see
below, p. 129, footnote 403). See also Michał Łuczyński, “Herberti De miraculis as a source
to the history of religion of western Slavs,” Studia Mythologica Slavica 16 (2013), pp. 69–77.
86 See e.g. Paul Ricoeur, Język, tekst, interpretacja, trans. Piotr Graff, Katarzyna Rosner
(Warszawa: PIW, 1989).
Chapter 2
1 For Thietmar’s biographic details and his education, see Helmut Lippelt, Thietmar von
Merseburg. Reichsbischof und Chronist (Mitteldeutsche Forschungen) 72 (Köln/Wien:
Böhlau, 1973), pp. 46–137; Marian Zygmunt Jedlicki, “Wstęp,” in Kronika Thietmara [Thietmari
Chronicon], Latin and Polish text, ed. and trans. Marian Zygmunt Jedlicki (Poznań: Instytut
Zachodni, 1953), pp. i–xxxi; Werner Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Thietmari Merseburgensis
Episcopi Chronicon, Latin and German text, ed. and trans. Robert Holtzmann/Werner
Trillmich, Ausgewählte Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters 9 (Darmstadt:
Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1992), pp. ix–xiii; David A. Warner, “Introduction:
Thietmar, bishop and Chronicler,” in Ottonian Germany. The Chronicon of Thietmar of
Merseburg, trans. and ed. David A. Warner (Manchester/New York: Manchester University
Press, 2001), pp. 1–64; Kerstin Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang vom Ende der Ottonen.
Konstitutionsbedingungen historiographischer Nachrichten in der Chronik Thietmars
von Merseburg (Berlin: De Gruyter, 2009), pp. 6–26; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden,
pp. 135–138.
count Goswin of Valkenburg, but Thietmar was not particularly happy about
it. He emphasized his aristocratic background on numerous occasions,2 and
his admiration for his ancestors corresponds with the contemporary trend to
privatize church institutions in Germany (the so-called proprietary church,
Germ. “Eigenkirchen”).3
Thietmar received a rudimentary education (the ability to read and write)
when he was staying with his aunt Emnilda, the canoness in Quedlinburg.
His next teacher was abbot Rikdag 990–1005 in the Magdeburg Monastery of
St. John of the Mountain, where he was moved as a 12-year old boy. The decisive
influence on his erudition and literary education occurred during the years he
spent at the cathedral school in Magdeburg (the best in eastern Germany),
where he worked under the supervision of masters Ekkehard “the Red” and
later Geddo (d. 1016). His unusual proficiency in quoting memorized fragments
of the Bible (which is confirmed by insignificant deviations from the original
text) could have been an effect of his intellectual formation in a monastery
school. In the matter of his knowledge of patristics, it is hard to judge: he men-
tions Tertullian only once and quotations from St. Gregory the Great prevail
over those of St. Augustine of Hippo, with seven and three quotations of each,
respectively.
Such a prevalence of quotations from Gregory’s paraenetic works over
Augustine’s literary legacy, in which universalist ideas form a critical dimen-
sion of his perspective in viewing world history, corresponds with the way
Thietmar distributed emphasis in his presentation of the role of the empire
and the Church on the scene of history. The chronicler focused particularly
on Germany’s eastern politics, a history of the local church network, and on
current pastoral tasks, while matters related to the expansion of the Empire
and Christendom across the world occupy a less significant place in his work.
A particular kind of canon was created in the characteristics of this chroni-
cler’s mentality, in which he is confronted with his friend from the Magdeburg
school, and also a distant relative, St. Bruno of Querfurt. However, as years
2 Because he was high-born he allegedly did not show particular diligence in some church
services (e.g. he did not like confessing), Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Rec. Helmut Lippelt, Thietmar
von Merseburg. Reichsbischof und Chronist. Mitteldeutsche Forschungen, Bd. 72, Böhlau
Verlag, Köln-Wien 1973 s. 245, 2 ilustr.,” Studia Historica Slavo-Germanica UAM 5 (1976),
p. 204.
3 These private monasteries and churches were places in which memory of dead ancestors
was especially cultivated, frequently they were buried there and it was a place where prayers
were offered for them; this part devoted to the dead is treated as a reminiscence of their still
pre-Christian cult (see Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 5–16, especially 14 f.). It is worth
also taking into consideration the influence of Christian eschatology on the genesis of this
post-mortem care for the deceased.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 41
4 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 118; Jerzy Strzelczyk, Apostołowie Europy (Warszawa:
PAX, 1997), p. 210; ibidem, p. 210–22; see also Friedrich Lotter, “Christliche Völkergemeinschaft
und Heidenmission. Das Weltbild Bruns von Querfurt,” in Early Christianity in Central and
East Europe, ed. Przemysław Urbańczyk, vol. 1 (Warsaw: Semper, 1997), p. 163–174. For bio-
graphic and bibliographic indications on Bruno of Querfurt see: Bruno z Kwerfurtu. Osoba –
dzieło – epoka, ed. Marian Dygo, Wojciech Fałkowski (Pułtusk: Wydawnictwo Akademii
Humanistycznej im. Aleksandra Gieysztora, 2010); and lately Miłosz Sosnowski, “Kilka
uwag o chronologii życia i twórczości Brunona z Kwerfurtu,” Roczniki Historyczne 82 (2016),
p. 63–78.
5 See below, pp. 89 f., 104 f., 107–109, 159.
6 Literature related to the concept of renovatio imperii Romanorum is extensive, especially
the period of celebrations connected with the 1000th anniversary of the council Gniezno
(1000) brought a revival of research on this issue, it was a part of a wider programme of
commemorating the thought and achievement of Otto III and his peers. See e.g. Jerzy
Strzelczyk, Otton III (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 2000); Roman Michałowski, Zjazd gnieźnieński.
Religijne przesłanki powstania arcybiskupstwa gnieźnieńskiego (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo
Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2005). It is worth emphasizing in this debate a skeptical trend
which contradicts the overly idealistic evaluation of Otto’s programme implementation in
42 Chapter 2
work) expressed his regret over this fact as he supported an earlier concept
of the Empire reaching the times of Otto I.
The archdiocese of Magdeburg, established by Otto in the 960s, under
took the Christianization of the Polabian tribes as a mission that was strictly
dependent on the renovated Roman empire. The propagation of Christianity,
i.e. introduction of the Kingdom of God in a theological sense, in practice
meant extending the influences and structures of the Empire and the relat-
ed Church network at the same time. This concept of mission introduced in
Polabia was completely accepted by Thietmar.7 However, it is hard to assess
on this basis whether he thought it was the best way for Christianization to
be used, including in relation to other missionary areas in the countries of the
Barbaricum. He focused on the tasks set before the Magdeburg environment in
which he grew up and lived the life of a clergyman.
Thietmar started his career as prior of the monastery in Walbeck in 1002,
which he obtained after negotiations with his paternal uncle Lothar (this simo-
ny was the reason for his compunction). Yet, before his priestly ordination he
was promoted to the canon of Magdeburg. From 1004 Tagino, the Archbishop
of Magdeburg, was Thietmar’s protector and friend, who ordained him a priest
in the same year. Being a metropolitan’s protégé, at the age of 34, Thietmar
reached the top of his clerical career. On 24 April 1009 he became Bishop of the
Merseburg Diocese of the Magdeburg suffragan bishopric, revived in 1004 after
23 years of non-existence. Thietmar became a member of the top elite (princi-
pes) in Germany, and it should be noted that Merseburg was the place of royal
conventions. The city was also a starting point for the German expansion to
the east. Thietmar probably participated in wars with Boleslav the Brave, and
he must have witnessed Polish and German negotiations more than once. He
developed an independent view on the Empire’s politics in the east,8 however,
his contribution to the Empire’s policy was not significant.9
As a bishop, he focused on regaining the property of the Merseburg
diocese, which after its revival in 1004 had been reduced in relation to its
political practice, see e.g. Gerd Althoff, Die Ottonen: Königsherrschaft ohne Staat, (Urban-
Taschenbücher) 473 (Stuttgart: Kohlhammer, 2005), pp. 181–192.
7 For more information see pp. 77 ff.
8 It is worth remembering that there was a custom of awarding official state positions to
church dignitaries, it was started by Charlemagne and was characteristic for the “Ottonian
system” – Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 34–45; Althoff, Die Ottonen, pp. 234–239.
9 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 116–118, 197; cf. Tyszkiewicz, “Rec. Helmut Lippelt,”
p. 205.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 43
original territory.10 This required a lot of work and energy that included forg-
ing documents.11 However, Thietmar was successful in this field in part thanks
to the favourable attitude of the monarch. It even seems that he considered
the well-being of the diocese more important than his family matters.12 On the
pages of his chronicle he showed care for the morality of Christians and ob-
serving Canon Law, and most certainly he did not try to avoid pastoral duties,
which is confirmed by the passages of his chronicle containing elements of
catechesis and moralization.13 A part of his diocese also encompassed Sorbian
peoples, which brought him face to face with the issue of Christianization.
Although he had some knowledge of the Slavic language, missionary duties
were not of primary importance to him.14
Thietmar died at a relatively young age on 1 December 1018, and until the
last days of his life he continued writing the Chronicle that he had started six
years earlier. The original of the chronicle dictated by Thietmar, with his orig-
inal notes – the so-called Dresden Manuscript – was mostly destroyed dur-
ing the bombing of Dresden in 1945. This loss is compensated by its facsimile
made in 1905.15 Nowadays we also have access to the 14th c. transcript of the so
called Corvey recension of Thietmar’s Chronicon, made in the Abbey of Corvey
10 The history of the Merseburg Diocese covering the period from its establishment in 968,
through its dissolution in 981 and reconstruction which started in 1004, and was con-
tinued with Thietmar’s participation, see Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 90–115,
and also: Gerard Labuda, Fragmenty dziejów Słowiańszczyzny zachodniej, vol. 3 (Poznań:
Wydawnictwo Poznańskie, 1975), pp. 184 f., 194; idem, “Merseburg,” in SSS, vol. 3, pp. 196 f.
11 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 94 f., 104, 114, emphasizes that the motif of document
forging conducted by Thietmar was conviction that the claims were legitimate. Similarly,
this biased attitude to the then statesmen on the pages of the chronicle resulted from
the main goal of Thietmar’s work, which according to him, was compensation for dam-
age done to the bishopric. See also Tyszkiewicz, “Rec. Helmut Lippelt,” p. 205; Strzelczyk
“Thietmar,” in SSS, vol. 6, p. 74.
12 Jedlicki, “Wstęp,” p. xxvi, ensuring achieving the goal, which was maintaining the king’s
favour, he explains Thietmar’s resignation from asserting the chapter’s rights related to
the election of archbishop after Walthard’s death, and the candidate was the chronicler’s
cousin – Theodoric. Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 127–129, moreover he proves
that Thietmar supported the canonical election of bishops and only supernatural signs
(e.g. king’s dreams) helped him to accept such a significant role of the ruler in appointing
church positions.
13 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 120.
14 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 118; J. Strzelczyk, “Thietmar,” pp. 74 f. Thietmar wanted
to show off his knowledge of the Slavic language more than his real knowledge of this lan-
guage allowed, however, there is concrete evidence that he managed to use the language
of the Slavic population in his diocese. See below pp. 74, 151.
15 Available on-line: http://www.mgh-bibliothek.de/digilib/thietmar.html [access: 15.04
.2018].
44 Chapter 2
Monastery in about 1120. The text includes some amendments and interpola-
tions (currently it is kept in the Royal Library of Brussels).16
In the prologue to the work, the chronicler stated that his aim was to de-
scribe the lives and customs of Saxon rulers as well as the fortunes of “our”
(Saxon) Church and its pastors.17 The cornerstone in the narrative structure
are the legendary beginnings, origines, of Merseburg. Then he connected this
episode with the first victories of Saxon duke Henry I, from 919 the king and
founder of the Liudolfing dynasty.18 The presentations of the reigns of the dy-
nasty’s consecutive representatives establishes the main axis of the narrative,19
in which the chronicler also included further key events from the history of
the Merseburg Diocese, its temporary decommissioning (981) and restitution
(1004), and combined this first event with a theological and moral explanation
of its consequences, i.e. the misfortunes striking the Ottonian Empire.20 Hence
it is not accidental that for a long time in the research on Thietmar’s causa
scribendi there have been conjectures that his aspiration was ensuring a lasting
place in history for the diocese, or even an argument in fighting for revindica-
tion of the lands which were not regained after the restitution.21
However, the motifs evident in the written work of Thietmar seem to be
more complex. On the one hand, his work is an extensive commentary on the
politics of the imperial rulers and their neighbours, and it contains a moral
assessment of their attitudes and actions, and even current affairs.22 In the
work written cum ira et studio one can observe the attitude of an experienced
politician and fighter for Church rights,23 who used his writing as a weapon
to influence the environment of the imperial elite. However, on the other
hand the memoria (commemoration) trend seems to be equally important in
Thietmar’s work. It focuses on the German rulers, particular Church dignitaries
politics.42 This “German” point of view has also been attributed to Thietmar in
the case of missionary ideas about which he was taught at school, and there-
fore his views were contrary to St. Bruno’s “universalistic” program.43 In the
context of how modern historiography has regarded Thietmar, it is not sur-
prising that some scholars have tried to prove Thietmar’s aversion to the Slavs
by referring to fragments of his chronicle where, for example, he mentioned
Sclavorum conspirata manus.44
The shortcomings of presenting Thietmar’s attitude toward the Slavs in
these ways were indicated in 1968 by Lech Tyszkiewicz, who emphasized that
the chronicler wrote about them as an ethnic group only where there were
no completely consolidated states (Liutici, Obodrites), while in reference to
Bohemia, Poland, and Rus’, he was mainly interested in their rulers. Hence it is
a mistake to transfer the negative assessment of these individuals to the people
(their subjects), especially given that the chronicler devoted so much attention
to them. The author presents numerous examples denying such one-sided as-
sessment of Slavs on the pages of the chronicle, only to conclude finally that
the chronicler was highly objective and that there was no uniform stance on
the Slavs as a whole.45 For Tyszkiewicz, “it becomes clear that the motif be-
hind the assessment of the Slavs in Thietmar’s Chronicle could not be nation-
alism or even an ordinary sense of ethnic strangeness.” Instead, loyalty to the
Church or to the state and the religious factor first and foremost characterized
Thietmar’s assessment of the Slavs.46
Further discussion in the last two decades has deviated even more from
the anachronisms in which the modern political ideologies influenced or
even determined the reflection (e.g. a reference to the Drang nach Osten
concept coined in the 19th c.), to strongly appreciate the so-called anthropo-
logical factor. More precisely, the chronicler’s approach to the Slavs was de-
fined to a large extent in terms of approach to the “other.” It manifested itself,
for instance, in Thietmar’s aforementioned pejorative judgements and the
usage of stereotypes. In this case not only ethnic, but also religious strange-
ness is taken into account.47 It closely corresponds with the subject of this
work, and in particular instances these phenomena are the subject of analy-
ses as one of the dimensions of Thietmar’s assessment of the religion of the
Slavs.
However, in this case, precisely defining the place attributed by Thietmar
to the cults and beliefs of the Slavs in the narrative, as well as the qualification
of phenomena in the cultural and theological interpretation, is of key impor-
tance. He drew its categories from Christian literature, and mainly from the
Bible. It was treated in accordance with contemporary principles as a record
of senses hidden at a few levels of interpretation, and each of them was a car-
rier of revealed cognition.48 The allegorical method especially allowed views,
phenomena, or events from the biblical world to become universalized, so
as to express an essential knowledge useful in a theological interpretation of
the history of humankind.49 It was particularly relevant for the contemporary
historiography, because the substantive trend in this field of literacy saw the
described history as a continuation of biblical events in which God’s plan of
salvation is implemented.50
In Thietmar’s work one can observe a conviction that God continuously
intervenes in the fate of individuals and societies led by their rulers, a char-
acteristic which is especially clear in the pages of the Old Testament.51 It is
deutschen narrativen Quellen des 11. und 12. Jahrhunderts,” Questiones Medii Aevii novae
7 (2002), pp. 45–76; and next strictly in accordance with the trend to juxtapose the “fa-
miliar” with the “strange” see Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, and Fraesdorff, Der bar-
barische Norden, who separated in his analysis the ethnic and religious otherness.
48 Stanisław Wielgus, Badania nad Biblią w starożytności i w średniowieczu (Lublin:
Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1990), pp. 75–123, especially 114–119; cf. John H. Hayes, “A his-
tory of Interpretation,” in Mercer Commentary on the Bible. ed. Watson E. Mills, Richard F.
Wilson (Macon, Georgia: Mercer University Press), pp. 27 ff.
49 The source of the allegorical explanation of the Bible is the Alexandrian historical-
allegorical school, which was used by St. Augustine. “History from his perspective is a
certain universal process of creation of the humankind by God and Christ, a chain of
human situations and the resultant of the rational beings’ actions which this way or an-
other implement the universal plans of God.” – Czesław Bartnik, “Augustyńska historio-
logia,” Vox Patrum 8 (1988), p. 796. This way of working with the Bible was undertaken
by Medieval historiography. Cf. André Vauchez, Duchowość średniowiecza, trans. Hanna
Zaremska (Gdańsk: Marabut, 1996) [orig. La spiritualité du Moyen Âge occidental VIII–
XIII (Paris, 1975)], pp. 144 f.
50 Padberg, Die Christianisierung Europas im Mittelalter (Stuttgart: Reclam, 1998), p. 188;
Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 100.
51 E.g. Thietmar II, 12. Widukind of Corvey also worked in this way – see Hagen Keller,
“Machabaeorum pugnae. Zum Stellenwert eines biblischen Vorbilds in Widukinds
Deutung der ottonischen Königsherrschaft,” in Iconologia sacra. Mythos, Bildkunst und
Dichtung in der Religions- und Sozialgeschichte Alteuropas. Festschrift für Karl Hauck, ed.
Hagen Keller, Nikolaus Staubach, (Arbeiten zur Frühmittelalterforschung) 23 (Berlin/
New York: de Gruyter, 1994) pp. 417–437.
50 Chapter 2
there were also bishops, which was characteristic for the so-called Ottonian
system in Germany. However, Thietmar clearly indicates a limitation of this
authority: the emperor – even together with the pope, the Roman Synod, and
the metropolitan bishop – did not have the right to raise his hand against the
existence of a bishopric and its property. This view was expressed on a matter
which was of paramount importance for him, i.e. the liquidation of the bish-
opric in Merseburg at the synod in Rome in 981. A chain of misfortunes which,
in his interpretation, affected the people and institutions responsible for that
fact, was an expression of heavenly punishment for this attack on “Christ’s
sheepfold.”58
In Thietmar’s perspective, a bishopric fully represented Christ and his
people (allegorical “bride”), and those who did harm to this institution, even
Christians, in the theological perspective became enemies of God himself.59
Thus it is not accidental that with reference to bishops, as representatives
of Christ, the term “entrust” (committere) of a community of people is used
in the chronicle, just like in the case of the monarch.60 In this case even the
very concept of empowerment of civitates (“cities”) is significant, particularly
indicating capitals, the most important centres, which achieved their prime
historical development owing to the establishment of a bishopric in them. So,
the chronicler emphasized that until 981 Merseburg “was governed liberally”
(“liberaliter dominabatur”), and therefore the liquidation of the local bishop-
ric was an attack on its rightful liberty (libertas).
The achievement of such a high status by a given centre, civitas or urbs, was
a consequence of particular historical circumstances and events, which again
was perfectly presented by the Merseburg example. The choice of the future
bishopric capital was mainly based on its Roman origins, legendary in this
Merseburskiego,” Roczniki Humanistyczne 44 (1996) 2, pp. 5–6, 18, 23. See also Lippelt,
Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 35, 186; Warner, “Introduction,” pp. 16 ff.
58 The one who inspired this trespass, archbishop of Magdeburg Gisiler, was compared to a
“mercenary” who was a denial of Christ the “good shepherd” in the evangelical parable.
See below, pp. 85 ff.
59 The name Christ’s “bride” (sponsa) was used by Thietmar to refer to cathedral churches
(see later, pp. 105 f). The then theology of the particular Church was very advanced. See
e.g. Paul P. Gilbert, Wprowadzenie do teologii średniowiecza, trans. Tytus Górski (Kraków:
WAM, 1997 [orig. Introduzione alla teologia medioevale. Roma, 1992]), p. 63.
60 See e.g. Thietmar II, 28; Stanisław Rosik, “Romanorum prepotens imperator augustus und
valentior sibi in Christo domnus apostolicus in der Chronik Thietmars von Merseburg,”
in Inter laurum et olivam, ed. Jiří Šouša, Ivana Ebelová, (Acta Universitatis Carolinae –
Philosophica et Historica 1–2 (2002), Z pomocných ved historických) 16 (Praha:
Nakladatelství Karolinum, 2007), pp. 373–378.
52 Chapter 2
case.61 The Mars-related etymology of the city name was enriched by a Slavic
element added by Thietmar, for he emphasized that for the local inhabitants,
it was “the middle” (Slavonic mese, today it means: balk) of their oecumene.
Finally, the complete promotion of the city was due to the actions of represen-
tatives of the Liudolfing dynasty, which were highly praised by the chronicler.
Its founder Henry I managed to successfully unite the territories adjacent to
Merseburg that had belonged to various lords.62 The bishopric was founded by
Otto I, and in this way he fulfilled an oath made to God to ensure for himself
the victory in the Lech River battle (955).63
In Widukind of Corvey’s narration, composed after his military success,
Otto I gained the imperator title thanks to his army’s acclamation.64 However,
Thietmar did not take this motif from his predecessor’s work, and instead
connected Otto’s obtainment of the emperor’s dignity to his coronation in
Rome. This was exactly the city which in his narrative bestows the dignity
of the emperor.65 Moreover the pope leading the Roman Church cannot be
judged by anyone else but God.66 In this context the position of the emperor
is ancillary to the Holy See, which is expressed in the title of the defender of
St. Peter’s Church or of St. Peter himself. Thus, it is not accidental that, ac-
cording to Thietmar, Otto I was punished for raising his hand against Pope
Benedict V by a plague that devastated the imperial army.
The universalist idea of Rome is significantly demonstrated on the pages
of the chronicle through the coexistence of two main pillars of the contem-
porary social order: priesthood (sacerdotium) and monarchy (imperium/
regnum).67 In the chronicle, Rome, the Romulus city68 serving as the capital
61 The city was to be named by the Romans (“ex Romulea gente”) who used the word Mars
due to his military virtues and victories.
62 Thietmar I, 2–3.
63 Ibidem, II, 10.
64 W idukindi res gestae Saxonicae – Widukinds Sachsengeschichte, Latin and German text, ed.
and trans. Paul Hirsch, Albert Bauer, Reinhold Rau, Ausgewählte Quellen zur deutschen
Geschichte des Mittelalters 8 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1971) [fur-
ther: Widukind], III, 49. Similarly earlier Henry I became an emperor in this chronicle
(I, 39) after his victory over the Hungarians in the Unstrut battle (931).
65 Thietmar II, [Prologus]: “Imperatorem fecit sibi Roma potentem / Hunc …” (cf. trans. D.A.
Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 88: “Rome made this powerful man her Emperor …”).
66 Thietmar II, 28.
67 The ruler of the Roman Empire has the leading role among Christian rulers who manifest
their support for the Holy See and also their political position with the payment of the so
called St. Peter’s denar (cf. e.g. Thietmar VI, 92).
68 T
hietmar VII, 71: “arca Romulea”.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 53
of St. Peter’s Church, turns out to be the “capital of all cities,”69 and, just as in
case of Merseburg, it was a model by which to define the status of the other
civitates raised to the bishopric rank. Thus, the monarch’s role is protecting the
old liberty of such cities and respecting the inviolability of the Church located
in them.
In summary, in the literary world created by Thietmar, the Kingdom of
God is present on at least a few levels. The lowest one is the diocese, and the
Merseburg bishopric is crucial for the entire narrative. At a higher level there
is the monarchy, fundamental for the construction of the whole chronicle nar-
ration, as it constituted the history of the Liudolfing kingdom and the related
church network. The chronicler’s ties with this milieu are expressed in the
“our” (nostri) category when he was referring to the Saxons. The highest level
in the social dimension is that of Christianitas, the unity which is centred on
Rome, and in which political practice means variously shaped relations be-
tween political organisms and the papacy as well as the empire.
However, with full respect for the institutional hierarchy in his world, the
chronicler was able to reprove the decision of the superior power, which was
justified with a reference to the higher moral order determined by a relation
to Christ both in the social and individual dimension. It is depicted well in his
interpretation of the liquidation of the bishopric of Merseburg. Thietmar de-
fended the well-being of the diocese and treated it as a qualitatively complete
representation of a mystical community whose head was Christ. Hence it is
not accidental that the rights of the diocese or, in other words, its freedom
(libertas), were inviolable in the chronicler’s opinion, even though it was only
an element in the Liudolfing monarchy structure and it was subordinate to the
Magdeburg metropolis. The infringement of these rights resulted in the earlier
mentioned misfortunes that affected the people making such decisions and
the institutions benefitting from them.
In this literary context pagans could become a tool used by the heavens
as an instrument of punishment, which did not change the fact that they re-
mained enemies of Christ and Christian community in general. Their religion
and perceived idolatry ensured this. Because of them, according to the con-
temporary theological arguments, the space of social life became open to the
antisacrum. These powers were hostile to the world and mankind and, accord-
ing to Thietmar, they were also manifested in a social circle already treated as
Christian. They were evoked especially by sin. By nature, they were diabolic
creatures, powers of the eternal chaos revolting against the Creator, and in the
69 Ibidem, VII, 71. It is characteristic that the Roman emperor in the East (Byzantine) is
called the Constantinople or Greek emperor by Thietmar (II, 15).
54 Chapter 2
accompanying cosmological dimension one has to outline here the widest ho-
rizon of the chronicler’s reflection on the religion of Slavic peoples.
References to this sphere of beliefs and cults appear throughout the whole
of Thietmar’s work, from the first to the last page, and usually they do not con-
stitute individual entities, such as a very precious excurse about the Liutici cult
concentrated in and around Radogošč. In this situation an optimal solution
seems to be the presentation of analyses of particular records in the order of
their appearance in the narrative. The research conducted in this way on par-
ticular cases with respect to the interpretation of Slavic religion will be sum-
marized at the end of this chapter.70 This chain of analyses will be preceded
by an excurse devoted to the Deeds of the Saxons by Widukind of Corvey. It is
the source of information used most extensively by Thietmar and, also highly
important, it includes the information about the presence of a “Saturn” idol at
the Elbslavs.
70 The chronicle translated and edited by M.Z. Jedlicki (1953) was used in the research, it was
based on R. Holtzmann’s edition which in turn used the Dresden Manuscript (see above,
p. 39, footnote 1, and p. 43, footnote 15). It is worth mentioning an edition of the chronicle
edited by W. Trillmich (Thietmari Merseburgensis Episcopi Chronicon), and it was also pub-
lished its English translation in 2001 by D.A. Warner, see: Ottonian Germany; see above,
p. 39, footnote 1.
71 Widukind’s work marks the beginning of the German (Saxon) historiography, the Slavs
are treated grudgingly in it and they are attributed stereotypical, pejorative epithets. See
e.g. Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Widukind,” in SSS, vol. 6, pp. 423 f.; Rudolf Buchner, “Einleitung,” in
Widukind, pp. 3–10; Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Sasi i inne ludy w dziejach saskich Widukinda
z Korwei,” in Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia 23 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo
Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1974), pp. 23 ff.
72 Henryk Łowmiański, Początki Polski, vol. 5 (Warszawa: PWN, 1973), p. 285, footnote 926;
Lech Leciejewicz, Słowianie zachodni (Wrocław/Warszawa/Kraków: Ossolineum, 1989),
p. 193.
73 Widukind III, 68: “urbis predam suis militibus donavit, simulacro Saturni ex aere fuso,
quod ibi inter alia urbis spolia repperit, magnum spectaculum populo prebuit” (the vic-
torious leader “gave the loot from the city to his soldiers, [and] offered a great spectacle
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 55
considered this object to be an ancient relic, which indicated that idolatry was
strange to the Slavs.74 H. Łowmiański argued, however, that the idol was an
object of the Wagrian cult, and a surprising element was its cultic function as a
new phenomenon in Polabia.75
The existence of idolatry in Polabia in the second half of the 10th c. should
be considered possible and not necessarily a novum.76 Despite that, it is not
known whether this statue was an object of the Slavic cult or an example of
accumulation of treasures by the stronghold’s inhabitants. One way or another,
the use of the word simulacrum in the case of Widukind acquires a pejorative
theological qualification as the chronicler identified it with daemonium,77 a
deity or idol. For him worshipping such objects was an antithetical to faith
in Christ.78 Similarly the very appearance of the Roman god was related to
the sphere of cult that Widukind considered an error in the doctrinal per-
spective (error), which is indicated in his commentary on the presentation
of pre-Christian rites performed by the Saxons.79 Moreover, their deities were
presented by the chronicler in the interpretatio Romana vel graeca convention,80
which corresponds with a legend claiming that Saxons were of Greek origin.81
In the case of “Saturn” among the Wagrians, it is difficult to dispute the in-
tention of attributing the Roman religious beliefs to the Slavic reality due to
to the people thanks to an image of Saturn cast in bronze which he obtained along with
other spoils from the city”). Cf. Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 67.
74 Wienecke, Untersuchungen, p. 179. The “Saturn” figure was considered as imported from
Rome also by Włodzimierz Szafrański, Prahistoria religii na ziemiach polskich (Wrocław/
Warszawa/Kraków: Ossolineum, 1987), p. 363.
75 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 169 f. stated that in accordance with the concept he supported
assuming the creation of Polabian polytheism not earlier than in the 10th–11th c.
76 The existence of statues and temples in Polabia from at least the 10th c. is properly docu-
mented. See e.g. Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 230–241; Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 115; Słupecki,
Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 86 ff., 108 f.; idem, “Einflüsse des Christentums auf die
heidnische Religion des Ostseeslawen im 8.–12. Jahrhundert: Tempel – Götterbilder –
Kult,” in Rom und Byzanz im Norden. Mission und Glaubenswechsel im Ostseeraum
während des 8.–14. Jahrhunderts, vol. 2, ed. Michael Müller-Wille (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1997),
p. 182–184; Sebastian, Brather, “Mehrköpfige Gottheit,” in Reallexikon der germanisch-
en Altertumskunde, vol. 19, ed. Johannes Hoops (Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 2001),
pp. 503–505; idem, Archäologie der westlichen Slawen. Siedlung, Wirtschaft und Gesellschaft
im früh- und hochmittelalterlichen Ostmitteleuropa (Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 2001),
pp. 322–325. See also below pp. 172–176.
77 Widukind III, 65: “simulacra vero daemonia esse et non deos testatus est”.
78 Ibidem: “… Christum deum solum colendum decrevit, idola respuenda subiectis gentibus
imperat …”
79 Widukind I, 12: error paternum.
80 Ibidem.
81 Widukind I, 2, presents Saxons as descendants of Alexander the Great army dispersed all
over the world.
56 Chapter 2
the silence of other sources on this matter. It does not in the least, however,
decrease the probability of the thesis that here the chronicler applied interpre-
tatio Romana of some Slavic deity,82 e.g. a god of fertility.83 It is worth taking
into consideration that the Saxons could have considered the Slavic idol to be
a Roman one by mistake. If this was the case, it would be a cause of surprise,
either because it was found among the Slavs or because it was worshipped by
them. Each of the solutions discussed here supports a hypothetical interpreta-
tion of the spectacle (spectaculum) arranged by the margrave for his people,
not only to present the figure of “Saturn” in public but also to conduct a ritual
form of annihilation of idolatry.84
82 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 187; Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 62, 170; Tyszkiewicz, Sasi, p. 35.
83 H.V. Ackenheil, Gottheiten und Kultstätten in und um Oldenburg in Wagrien: archäoglot-
tische Studien über germanisches und slawisches Heidentum (Hamburg: Fotodruck an der
Uni, 1983), p. 51; Erich Hoffmann, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der Obodriten zur Zeit der
Nakoniden,” in Zwischen Christianisierung und Europäisierung. Beiträge zur Geschichte
Osteuropas in Mittelalter und früher Neuzeivol. Festschrift für Peter Nitsche zum 65.
Geburtstag, ed. Eckhard Hübner, Ekkehard Klug, Jan Kusber (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner
Verlag, 1998), p. 27. Ackenheil, Gottheiten, p. 33, proposed to interpret “Saturn” and god of
Wagrians named Prove as different forms of the same highest divinity, however, accord-
ing to Helmold, no statues were put up for Prove so the idea raises doubts; cf. Helmoldi
presbyteri bozoviensis Cronica Slavorum, ed. Bernhard Schmeidler, MGH SSrerGerm in
usum scholarum (1937) [further: Helmold], I, 84.
84 In the mid-12th c. Ebo of Michelsberg defined the rituals of the elimination of idols in
Polabia as spectaculum (see: Ebonis Vita S. Ottonis Episcopi Babenbergensis, ed. Kazimierz
Liman, Jan Wikarjak, MPH n.s. 7/2 (1969) [further: Ebo], III, 10) however this is not a
strong premise in the interpretation of this term in the discussed passage of Widukind’s
work.
85 It took place in 912 at the latest. See: Gerard Labuda, “Henryk I,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 201; idem,
Fragmenty dziejów Słowiańszczyzny zachodniej, vol. 1 (Poznań: Wydawnictwo Poznańskie,
1960), p. 249.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 57
Glomač “is a spring located no more than two miles away from the Elbe,
which [i.e. Glomač] itself gives birth to a swamp, [and] often produces marvels
as the inhabitants claim and as it has been confirmed by many eyewitnesses.
When a good peace is going to profit the natives, and that soil bears86 its fruit,
it [Glomač] is covered with wheat, oats, and acorn and makes joyful the souls
of the neighbours who often gather at it. When, however, a ferocious tempest
of war advances, it forecasts the future event with [a sign of] blood and ashes.
Every inhabitant, although with dubious hope, reveres and fears this [spring]
more than the churches.”87
Thus, the spring was a “reliable sensor informing the people in its care about
any change of fate.”88 Due to the presented type of divination signs, in relation
to the source one should take into account the occurrence of a fertility and an
abundance cult, which generally corresponds to findings referring to aquatic
hierophany.89
Worship of springs, which was characteristic for the Slavs at the time of
Christianization, is not surprising.90 A bog surrounding the holy spring of
86 The right analogies to explain the meaning “(non) mentitur” in this case seem to be some
passages in Biblia Sacra juxta Vulgatam Clementinam. Editio Electronica, ed. Michaele
Tvveedale (London, 2005) [further: Vulgate], e.g. Hab 3:17: “mentietur opus olivæ” or
Hos 9:2: “vinum mentietur eis”.
87 Thietmar I, 3: “Glomuzi est fons, non plus ab Albi quam duo miliaria positus, qui unam de
se paludem generans, mira, ut incolae pro vero asserunt oculisque approbatum est a mul-
tis, sepe operatur. Cum bona pax est indigenis profutura, suumque haec terra non men-
titur fructum, idem tritico et avena ac glandine refertus, laetos vicinorum ad se crebro
confluentium efficit animos. Quando autem seva belli tempestas ingruerit, sanguine et
cinere certum futuri exitus indicium premonstrat. Hunc omnis incola plus quam aeccle-
sias, spe quamvis dubia, veneratur et timet”.
88 Jacek Banaszkiewicz, “Źródło Głomacz i jego rajska okolica,” in Viae historicae. Księga ju-
bileuszowa dedykowana Profesorowi Lechowi A. Tyszkiewiczowi w siedemdziesiątą rocznicę
urodzin, ed. Mateusz Goliński, Stanisław Rosik, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis.
Historia) 152 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2001), pp. 407–414.
89 See Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 165 f.; moreover the author conjectures on
the basis of comparative premises that the marshland surrounding Glomač was the place
of offerings. See also Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 321.
90 The cult of waters among the Slavs is also mentioned by Procopius of Caesarea in the
first preserved information about their religion from the mid-6th c. – see: Procopius
Caesariensis, De Bellis 7.14.1, see Procopius Caesariensis, Opera Omnia, vol. 2: De Bellis libri
V–VIII, ed. Jakob Haury (Leipzig: Teubner, 1963), p. 357; cf. Testimonia najdawniejszych
dziejów Słowian. Seria grecka, zeszyt 2. Pisarze z V–X w., ed. Anna Brzóstowska, Wincenty
Swoboda (Wrocław/Warszawad/Kraków: Ossolineum, 1989), pp. 60 f. (strictly speaking,
this information concerns Antes and Sclavenes).
58 Chapter 2
91 Accepted here reconstruction of the name of the venerated spring as Glomač can cause
discussion – see: Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 78, 115; D.A. Warner in: Ottonian
Germany, p. 68, footnote 11.
92 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 216; L. Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago Silensi vocabulo hoc a quodam
monte … sibi indito<<. O funkcji miejsc kultu pogańskiego w systemie politycznym
Słowian Zachodnich doby plemiennej”, Sobótka 42 (1987) 2, p. 132; it is supported in the
further part of narration: “Et haec provincia ab Albi usque in Caminizi fluvium porrecta
vocabulum ab eo trahit dirivatum.” – Thietmar I, 3.
93 Creation of the tribal name of the Glomače originating from the sanctuary of Glomač was
supposed by e.g. Hansjürgen Brachman, “Zur religiösen Vorstellungwelt der sorbischen
Stämme an Elbe und Saale,” Studia Onomastica 5 (1987), p. 51; Leszek P. Słupecki, “Ślęza,
Radunia, Wieżyca. Miejsca kultu pogańskiego Słowian w średniowieczu,” Kwartalnik
Historyczny 99 (1992) 2, pp. 13 f.; idem, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 176. For the discus-
sion on the name of country and tribe with consideration of the role of the river in their
etymology (on the example of Glomače and Ślężanie) see below in this chapter p. 150.
94 Jerzy Nalepa, “Głomacz,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 111; idem, “Głomacze,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 111;
Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago”, p. 128: Altlommatsch, near Meissen; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan
Sanctuaries, p. 165; Andrzej Wędzki, “Gana,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 79. According to scholars near
the spring there was the capital of the tribe – Gana, devastated during the 928/929 fights
(it was hypothetically identified with the Burgberg stronghold).
95 This ascertainment remains in agreement with the Early Christian tradition in which
pagan miracles were associated with peculiarities, performances, and was treated as a
“wonder”, and at the same time, as it was emphasized by St. Augustine, these unusual
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 59
life of the Daleminzi, which suggests that they practiced religious syncretism
(dual faith).
2.2 On Afterlife
Thietmar – having mentioned the death of his great grandfathers in the Battle
of Lenzen in 92996 – continued his story with a very clear message: “That
no one faithful to Christ may doubt the future resurrection of the dead, but
rather proceed to the joy of blessed immortality, zealously, and through holy
desire …”97 After referring to a number of miraculous events confirming the
existence of the afterlife,98 the chronicler finished the digression with a didac-
tic and at the same time apologetic argument on the matter.99 Here, among
his adversaries, were also the Slavs: “to the illiterate, and especially to the Slavs
who think that everything ends with the temporal death, I say these things
announcing the certainty of the resurrection and future remuneration for the
quality of merits to all faithful.”100 A subsequent argument on types of souls,
aimed at persuading readers that the afterlife exists, was taken by the chroni-
cler from St. Gregory’s Dialogues.101
By citing this authority, Thietmar did not hide his conviction of his own eru-
dition and defined his mission as a teacher: he claimed he was a “whetstone”
which does not sharpen himself but sharpens iron. He used this Horatian met-
aphor with an explanation that he did not want to become a “mute dog” when
signs attributed to pagan deities obliged people to worship them, see Marian Rusecki, Cud
w myśli chrześcijańskiej (Lublin: Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1991), pp. 55–58.
96 Thietmar I, 10.
97 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 75; cf. Thietmar I, 11: “Ut nullus Christo fi-
delium de futura mortuorum resurrectione diffidat, sed ad beatae immortalitatis gaudia
anhelanter per sancta proficiscatur desideria …”
98 Thietmar I, 11–13. Cf. Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, pp. 75 f. The concept treating manifes-
tation of the deceased as the proof of soul immortality was borrowed by Thietmar from
Book IV of Gregory the Great’s Dialogues – see Thietmar, p. 23, footnote 67; cf. Berthold
Altaner, Alfred Stuiber, Patrologia. Życie, pisma i nauka Ojców Kościoła, trans. Paweł
Pachciarek (Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy PAX, 1990) [orig. Patrologie: Leben, Schriften
und Lehre der Kirchenväter (Freiburg, 1966)], p. 611.
99 This part of narration follows the same scheme as the New Testament, in which proclaim-
ing creeds of faith was connected with descriptions of miracles confirming them.
100 Thietmar, I, 14, p. 23: “inlitteratis et maxime Sclavis, qui cum morte temporali omnia pu-
tant finiri, haec loquor, certitudinem resurreccionis et pro qualitate meriti futurae remu-
nerationis firmiter indicens cunctis fidelibus”. This place is an interesting example of the
chronicler’s autocreation as a bishop and teacher (however, it is difficult to assume read-
ing the word “loquor” that he addressed his work to the illiterate and the Slavs). See also
Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 104.
101 Gregory the Great, Dialogi, IV, 3 – see: Thietmar, p. 23, footnote 67.
60 Chapter 2
views contradicting the church doctrine were spread around the world.102 This
comparison to a dog is far from any reference to paganism in this case,103 and
one has to take into account here the whole phrase “mute dog” (mutus canis),
which in the Bible – it is not mentioned in the editions of the chronicle –
denotes lazy prophets who are not faithful to their vocation. This was the
meaning in which it appeared in patristic literature as well.104 In this context
the phrase “mute dog” used by Thietmar means a bishop who neglects teach-
ing his people.105
Listing the Slavs among inlitterati that opposed one of the fundamental
dogmas of the ecclesiastical credo at yet another instance confirms Thietmar’s
conviction that the Slavs were unruly by nature and difficult to convert.106 Yet,
claiming that they questioned the afterlife has raised discussions among schol-
ars for generations. However, there is one issue on which scholars all agree:
with the available information, it is not possible to prove that the Slavs had
no belief in the afterlife.107 The principal premise in this matter is the very
102 Thietmar I, 14: “Etsi ego fungar vice cotis, ferrum et non se exacuentis, tamen, ne muti
canis obprobrio noter …”; cf. Horace, De arte poetica, v. 304 – see Thietmar, p. 23, footnote
66; Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 82.
103 For canes as a topos in medieval literature with reference to the Slavs, see below pp. 291 f.
104 Unworthy shepherds are mentioned in the Book of Isaiah (Isa 56:10), which is mentioned
also by St. Ambrose see: Dorothea Forstner, Świat symboliki chrześcijańskiej, trans. Paweł
Pachciarek, Ryszard Turzyński, Wanda Zakrzewska (Warszawa: PAX, 1990) [orig. Die Welt
der christlichen Symbole (Innsbruck, 1977)], pp. 293 f.
105 Forstner, Świat, pp. 293 f.
106 E.g. Thietmar, I, 4, when he mentions fire which was to miraculously appear at the place
of the martyrdom of Aaron the bishop of Würzburg and his companions, he emphasizes
that “sanctos Dei martires hos esse nec Sclavi dubitant”, which makes us realize that ex-
actly the Slavs, in the chronicler’s view, are a good example of people who are stubborn
and oppose the Christian religion. Similarly when he discusses Boso’s missionary efforts
(see below, pp. 73–75) he stressed their futility in the face of the ill will of the people to be
converted. One could ask if the chronicler’s aversion to the Slavs, emphasized especially
when describing their opposition to Christianization, is not supported by treating them
as rebels against the Empire or even by the author’s personal grudge. Mentioning Slavic
lack of faith in the resurrection is a part of an argument directly preceded by information
about a fight of the Polabian Slavs against their dependence on the Empire, in which both
of Thietmar’s great-grandfathers died.
107 At the current stage of the discussion it is certain that the Slavs believed in the soul’s life
after man’s death but a clear difference between the soul and body was no longer clear
(Stanisław Bylina, Człowiek i zaświaty. Wizje kar pośmiertnych w Polsce średniowiecznej
(Warszawa: Upowszechnianie Nauki-Oświata “UN-O”, 1992), p. 8). The soul was associ-
ated with something invisible (waft, wind) abiding in connection with the body or as its
apparition (invisible copy of the deceased). It could appear in the world of the living as
a phantom, e.g. as a double of the deceased and also as a ghost, or at last – following the
ethnographic material – animals (insects, birds, etc.), see Kazimierz Moszyński, Kultura
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 61
ludowa Słowian, vol. 2, part 1 (Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna, 1967 [1st ed. 1936]), on soul
by the index.
108 “The cult of the ancestors was so common everywhere that the Slavdom would be a pe-
culiar island requiring explanations” – Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 57 [first edition
1947]. The author referred here to Czech and Polish medieval historiography. See also
Bylina, Człowiek, pp. 7 f.; idem, Kultura ludowa Polski i Słowiańszczyzny średniowiecznej
(Warszawa: Mazowiecka Wyższa Szkoła Humanistyczno-Pedagogiczna, 1999), pp. 12 f.
109 One should take into account that Thietmar working as a priest of the Sorbian people
understood their speech and knew their views from first-hand experience, see above.
110 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 57.
111 Lubomír Niederle, Život starych Slovanů, vol. 2, part 1 (Praha: Bursík & Kohout, 1924),
pp. 38 f.; the same Kazimierz Tymieniecki, Społeczeństwo Słowian Lechickich (Lwów: K.S.
Jakubowski, 1928), p. 39.
112 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 174.
113 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 142.
62 Chapter 2
faith in the “live corpse” (defunctus vivus),114 which was to manifest itself after
death until its body was decomposed. However, this idea seems mistaken –
the “living corpse” has an element of life, so in this case not everything is fin-
ished. Moreover, the appearance of the deceased in this part of the work115 was
used as proof of the soul’s immortality, thus it is hard to defend the position
that Thietmar understood the phenomena in any other way in the case of pos-
sible faith among the “illiterate” (including the Slavs).116
A. Gieysztor has offered a different approach: “the conceptual range of
the spirit and soul among the Slavs is wide: beside soul-self and soul-life, i.e.
breath, so definitions of the state of one’s own psychological awareness and life
force, there is the soul-phantom. It is an image – an apparition, a nightmare or
shadow, a copy of a man when he was still alive, in reference to the deceased
he was called more directly a ‘dead man’ (in Polish: with compassion as the
word “nieboszczyk” originally means “unfortunate”, “not rich”). After death this
image disappears in the wind, but it can return, eat and drink, and eventually
114 On the same matter e.g. Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 588 and 655; Edward Potkowski,
Dziedzictwo Wierzeń pogańskich w średniowiecznych Niemczech. Defuncti vivi (Warszawa:
Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 1973), p. 7 et passim.; see also Urbańczyk,
Dawni Słowianie, pp. 114, 159; Sergey A. Tokarev, Pierwotne formy religii i ich rozwój, trans.
Mirosław Nowaczyk (Warszawa: Książka i Wiedza, 1969) [orig. Rannie formy religii i ikh
razvitie (Moskva, 1964)], p. 169. In the development of beliefs, the motif of a “living corpse”
was to precede a conviction of the existence of a paradigm of the world of the dead in the
form of the Greek Hades or the Biblical Sheol.
115 See Thietmar I, 12.
116 Thus H. Łowmiański’s argument loses its topicality (Religia, p. 142), its goal was explana-
tion of the alleged antinomy in the text of Thietmar’s chronicle, who in another place
mentions that Slavic widows were killed to “follow their husbands” meaning following
them to the world of the dead. H. Łowmiański claimed that “a critique of Thietmar’s text
allows the recognition of two contradicting pieces of information: 1) about the death of
the soul with the body, 2) about survival of the soul after the death of a body. Only the
latter has wide, independent of Thietmar, support in sources, however this does not mean
that the first one did not reflect Slavic beliefs.” To clarify the way both of these concepts
functioned in the culture of old Slavs, Łowmiański proposed a solution based on taking
into consideration the evolution of beliefs. And so the conviction of the “living corpse”
was to be set in the oldest layer while a view of separation of the fate of the decomposing
body and the soul migrating to the beyond was to represent a later stage of beliefs. Rus’
sources prove that souls of the dead stayed in the living world, and one should remember
that there was an alternative place for souls in the underworld kingdom of the dead. This
is why possibilities of parallel functioning of both of these views on the afterlife in the
environment of the newly Christianised Slavs should not be questioned, however, at the
same time it is not possible to verify the idea that both views were taken into account by
Thietmar (at least for the reason that there are no premises that he tried to explain these
kind of subtleties in the presentation of religious images which were strange to him).
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 63
depart to the beyond where it dwells.”117 The world of the dead, which was
most probably ruled by Veles, was to be achieved by souls after crossing a far-
away river, which was confirmed in burial customs.118 Concluding this part of
his considerations, Gieysztor made one more attempt to explain the sense of
the chronicler’s statement: “There was a common uncertainty among the Slavs
connected with the place where souls abide after death; in the old Rus’ this
place was called ‘nevedomaja strana’ [i.e. unknown land – S.R.]. Thietmar of
Merseburg even supposed that the Slavs thought that ‘the worldly death was
the end of everything.’”119
Stanisław Bylina also noticed that there are numerous indications that the
reconstructed reality of the Slavic world of the dead was far from being coher-
ent and consistent,120 which is in opposition to widely held views on religion
in general.121 In this situation one should take into account the possibility of
changes in views concerning the afterlife of souls during the decline of pre-
Christian religion among the Slavs, and the “unknown” or “foreign country”
(nevedomaja or čužaja strana) known from Rus’ may be a trace of the disap-
pearance of the original spatial images of the beyond.122 However, the very
existence of the remains of Slavic beliefs and images of the afterlife in sources
117 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 259; see also Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 584 ff.
118 Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 597 f. emphasizes that the Slavs knew about a universal view
(America, Asia, Europe) that in the limits of the worldly universe there were rivers.
Because of this image there was a custom of building footbridges over a stream in Belarus
or a belief in crossing a ford after death. In Rus’ and the Balkans there was also the Charon’s
obol motif (ibidem, p. 655). Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 69 f. claims, however, that the motif
of the peripheral river across which souls of the deceased had to go paying “an obol”, first
reached the southern Slavs and later the northern Slavs, which solves the riddle of its
origin, after Christianization, because in the 10th c. linen patches were used to pay, and
not ore. One cannot exclude, however, that reception of antique mythology was based on
a native custom which was only modified. This indicates that there was possibly a native
belief in the underworld kingdom from the Lithuanian myth of Sovi, which according to
A. Brückner (Aleksander Brückner, Starożytna Litwa. Ludy i bogi. Szkice historyczne i mito-
logiczne, ed. Jan Jaskanis (Olsztyn: Pojezierze, 1979), pp. 65 f. and 70 f.) received the Slavic
form of the underworld, inhabited by ancestors called vele (sing. vel), a grey, dark world
without green, sun and living people. See also Bylina, Kultura, pp. 16–19.
119 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 252; cf. Bylina, Kultura, p. 15. Łowmiański, Religia, p. 142, concludes
similarly: “… Thietmar’s enigmatic remark about another obligation of the soul in future
life without even an explanation, proves no clear idea of this world, and thus lack of inter-
est in it.” However, referring the remark on “other obligation of the soul” to the Slavs does
not seem right – see below, pp. 69 f.
120 Bylina, Człowiek, p. 31.
121 Being a system, religions usually consistently describe the world and the beyond.
122 Stanisław Bylina, “Problemy słowiańskiego świata zmarłych. Kategorie przestrzeni i
czasu,” Światowit 40 (1995), pp. 9–12.
64 Chapter 2
suggests that some time ago they were a part of consistent systems. However,
their structure must have turned out to be so weak in confrontation with
Christianity that it was nearly completely destroyed,123 leaving only a trace in
the folk culture after Christianization.124
In the scholarly attempts to reconstruct the model of the Slavic world of
the dead, there is a striking dominance of its pessimistic visions.125 Even A.
Brückner, while making a comparative study with religion among the Balts,
saw the Slavic underworld called the nawia as the domain of shadows, “with-
out the sun and warmth, without food or drink …,” which was ruled by Veles.
The deceased ancestors allegedly appeared among living ones in the spring
and autumn, to be fed, washed, and kept warm …126 Such a vision of the af-
terlife makes it a kind of imitation of earthly life and is connected with the
existence of an opinion that there were contacts between both worlds.127
Searching for analogies to the Slavic world of the dead, Brückner’s
contemporary – Mikołaj Rudnicki, indicated the heritage of the Ancient
Hellada: “This compliance must represent the Indo-European belief which is
very old and in contrast to the Germanic one: the Lechitic, or Slavic beyond is
sad and empty, without food and drink, without sun and warmth, similar to
123 The poor development of Slavic eschatology, which was considered a fact on the basis of
written sources, was seen as the reason for easy, as devoid of strong competition, recep-
tion of faith in God’s judgement, salvation or eternal perdition, brought by Christianity
(Łowmiański, Religia, p. 360).
124 Similarly Bylina, Człowiek, p. 31.
125 In the scholarly debate on the Slavic world of the dead in the Arabic source of Ibn-Fadlan
about burial customs of Rus’ people it was taken into account that they had an optimistic
vision of the beyond as heaven. This evidence was thought to be an isolated case not cred-
itworthy due to the fact that the Slavs were attributed elements of eschatology which was
strange to them, see Łowmiański, Religia, p. 143; Bylina, Człowiek, p. 14. It was indicated
that at best there was a possibility that this heaven-related element was more archaic
and referred to the Indo-European myth, in which one of the gods tends souls of the
dead in a meadow (one should remember here the role of cattle in the life of the early
medieval Slavs) – see idem, Problemy, pp. 16 f. At the current stage of discussion the Slavic
identification of the then Rus’ raises significant doubts (see Władysław Duczko, Viking
Rus: Studies on the Presence of Scandinavians in Eastern Europe, (The Northern World, V)
12 (Boston/Leiden: Brill, 2004)), thus usefulness of this source in research on the religion
of the Slavs is decreasing. Even if one assumes that at that stage the Rus’ people were
Slavicised, it is highly probable that their eschatological imagery was not changed and
they even permeated to Slavic circles in which they existed.
126 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, pp. 53, 259; see also under, p. 65, footnote 129.
H. Łowmiański shared this view in Religia, p. 144.
127 S. Bylina strengthened this thesis in reference to various dimensions of life (family, so-
ciety) furthermore extending source documentation by adding folk sources. Bylina,
Człowiek, pp. 21 ff.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 65
the Greek Elysium. The Germanic world of the dead has a different nature and
contains other, non-Indo-European imagery elements.”128 In this interpreta-
tion, making offerings to the dead does not support the thesis of the wellbeing
of the world beyond or the afterlife, and – to the contrary – it proves that the
deceased in the kingdom of Nyja (identified with Pluto), located on the periph-
eries of the cosmos, did not have any reward for their earthly life and needed
offerings made by their descendants.129
Death in this perspective equates to the Slavic word ‘nycie’ – disappearance,
drying out, perishing, dying.130 According to K.T. Witczak, exactly “this type of
image related to the fate after death among the Polabian Slavs is confirmed at
the beginning of the 11th c. by the German chronicler Thietmar, when he writes
that the Slavs believe that life ends after death. There is no need to negate it
(…), or interpret it in any extreme way that the Slavs did not have any imagery
of the world of the dead.”131 Such an assessment seems to be really close to
Thietmar’s text, but there is a question about the completeness of its confor-
mance. The source, regardless of interpretation and whether it is extreme or
not, clearly states that the Slavs thought that the death of earthly life was the
end of everything.
128 Mikołaj Rudnicki, “Bóstwa lechickie,” Slavia Occidentalis 5 (1926), p. 383; cf. Krzysztof
T. Witczak, “Ze studiów nad religią Prasłowian. Część 2: Prapolska Nyja a grecka Enyo,”
Slavia Occidentalis 51 (1994), p. 126 f.
129 Cf. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 158 f. It is possible that instead of the whole property,
only a coin was put into a grave – Józef Kostrzewski, Kultura prapolska (Poznań: Instytut
Zachodni, 1947), pp. 330 f., although this custom should more probably be identified with
ancient Greek or Roman infiltration in folk beliefs at the time of the Christianization of
the Slavs.
130 Witczak, “Ze studiów,” p. 126 (the author referred here to Rudnicki’s research conducted
in 1930s, speculating on connections between the Greek Enyo and the alleged old Polish
Nyja). Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 149, indicated an analogy in Lithuanian
mythology where there was information on vele (ancestors) headed by Veles the ruler of
navia – a shady place where vele abode. Ibidem, p. 259: “In their [i.e. vele – S.R.] under-
world there was no sun or warmth, no food or drink, so ancestors’ spirits would appear in
spring and autumn to be washed, heated, fed and given a drink; the ones who neglected
this were exposed to vindictive wrath. This grey state of shadows, which was maybe ruled
by Veles, was called navia; collective name navie meant specters.” Navia corresponds
with imagery of afterlife – ‘unava’, ‘unynie’, ‘nyć’ means ‘longing, boredom, tiredness’; cf.
Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 116, 159. The motif of the “living corpse” belongs to this
trend, it would visit living people searching for lost people and property. Although in this
case the end of human existence would be connected with the final decomposition of the
body and would rather be a more archaic conviction than the mythology it preceded and
maybe partly gave rise to.
131 Witczak, “Ze studiów,” p. 127.
66 Chapter 2
132 The knowledge on the matters related to death in the religion of the Old Slavs can be
extended by analysis of burial rites and objects left in graves; for reflection on burial rites
and objects found in graves see Leciejewicz, Słowianie, pp. 117 ff. and also below pp. 176 ff.
133 H. Łowmiański (Religia, pp. 141) mentioned that among skeptics questioning the afterlife
there were also Germans, however, the skeptics were mainly the Slavs. This direction in
reflection turns attention away from the chronicler’s intention, who focuses mainly on
the circle of inlitterati and views functioning in it, and not on ethnic relations.
134 See e.g. Cf. Ernst Robert Curtius, Literatura europejska i łacińskie średniowiecze, trans.
Andrzej Borowski (Kraków: Universitas, 1997) [orig. Europäische Literatur und lateinisch-
es Mittelalter (Bern, 1948)], p. 31; Jacques Le Goff, Kultura średniowiecznej Europy, trans.
Hanna Szumańska-Gross (Warszawa: Volumen, 1994) [orig. La civilisation de l’Occident
médiéval (Paris, 1964)], p. 17. See also: Herbert Grundmann, “Litteratus – illiteratus,” Archiv
für Kulturgeschichte 40 (1958), pp. 1–65.
135 For example Cosmas of Prague accused Boleslaw II the Pious’s brother, Strachkvas
(Kristián), that he represented such attitude: he knew the alphabet but neglected theolo
gical studies. Cosmae Pragensis Chronica Boemorum, ed. Bertold Bretholz, MGH SSrerGerm
n.s. 2 (1923) [further: Cosmas], I, 30. “A real literate person was sacris litteris eruditus – he
knew sacral literature, especially the Bible” – Jerzy Dowiat, “Krąg uczony i jego instytucje,”
in Kultura Polski średniowiecznej X–XIII w., ed. Jerzy Dowiat (Warszawa: PIW, 1985), p. 252,
the autor refers in this context to Cosmas’s sentence, I, 22: “sacris litteris erudita” (about
Mlada – Boleslaw II the Czech’s sister). Cf. Herbert Grundmann, “Litteratus – illiteratus,”
pp. 3 f.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 67
and inlitterati (illitterati) is not connected with belonging to the clergy or hav-
ing the ability to read, but rather the basic criterion in this respect was par-
ticipation in the culture of the written word (the Bible and literature read at
schools). It could also be only listening (e.g. sermons in church) and as a result
accepting the rudiments of the church doctrine.136 Thus scripture and oral tra-
dition were identification signs of opposing worldviews, while individual abil-
ity or inability to read was not a sole determining factor of belonging to one
of them.137
In the light of Thietmar’s work, the pastoral activity of teaching the truths
of the Christian faith was considered a panacea for the ignorance of the
“illiterate.”138 The chronicler did not mention there the pre-Christian genesis
of the views he opposed. It must have been obvious for him – he himself had
to face the challenge of converting Sorbs tribes, just as the members of his
own diocese and his predecessors did.139 He also witnessed the renaissance of
native cults among his neighbours in the North-Polabian (Elbslavs) territories.
However, in neither case did the chronicler treat the Slavs as pagans, which
was due to the peculiarity of the contemporary missionary theology, shown
in other places of his work; in that interpretation e.g. the Elbslavs rebelling
against the Empire were considered apostates-pagans.140
136 For “oral literacy” see e.g. Edward Potkowski, Książka i pismo w średniowieczu. Studia z
dziejów kultury piśmiennej i komunikacji społecznej (Pułtusk: Akademia Humanistyczna
im. Aleksandra Gieysztora, 2006), p. 23 f. (there is also literature on the matter).
137 It is worth mentioning that oral tradition elements occur very often in works written by
medieval erudites, which is very important for the reconstruction of pre-Christian and
folk beliefs. Meanwhile radical opposition of the literate circle and the “folk” one occur-
ring in earlier studies, a priori eliminated this direction of research, because one did not
expect such traces in church culture works – see: Padberg, “Geschichtsschreibung,” p. 177;
cf. Staats, “Missionsgeschichte Nordeuropas,” pp. 13, 30.
138 This conviction must have also been reinforced by reading the Bible, e.g. the Book of
Hosea (Hos 4: 6).
139 Mentioning the soul’s fate after death by Thietmar may be a reflection of a pre-
baptismal catechesis, which he gave himself or recommended to be given in the terri-
tory of his diocese. The pre-baptismal catechesis encompassed truths recommended by
St. Augustin in De catechizandis rudibus: soul immortality, judgement, reward and pun-
ishment, Holy Trinity, the Saviour and the Last Judgment. It is clearly seen that these
issues encompass the afterlife of man. See e.g.: Zygmunt Sułowski, “Pierwszy Kościół pol-
ski,” in Chrześcijaństwo w Polsce. Zarys przemian 966–1979, ed. Jerzy Kłoczowski (Lublin:
Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1992), p. 31 f.; cf. Marian Rechowicz, “Początki i rozwój kultu-
ry scholastycznej (do końca XIV wieku),” in Dzieje teologii katolickiej w Polsce, ed. Marian
Rechowicz, vol. 1: Średniowiecze (Lublin: Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1974), p. 24; Jerzy
Wolny, “Z dziejów katechezy,” in Dzieje teologii katolickiej w Polsce, ed. Marian Rechowicz,
vol. 1: Średniowiecze (Lublin: Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1974), p. 169.
140 See below, pp. 80 f., 160 f. (footnote 528).
68 Chapter 2
By including the Slavs in the circle of inlitterati in the passage, Thietmar did
not refer to this kind of categorization, but he appreciated confrontation in the
dimension of mental culture. His attitude toward the inlitterati reflects influ-
ence of a mental trend, still up-to-date in the 9th–11th c. in monastic circles,
which grew from the experience of propagators of Christianity who acted in
earlier times in the Germanic territories. These missionaries promoted a sys-
tem of values in a context where knowledge was transferred orally, and where
paganism, tribal community and the world of nature were in opposition to the
higher valued literacy, Christianity, and culture that was created with strong
participation of the clergy.141
Moreover, in openly confronting the views of the “illiterate,” Thietmar in-
directly indicated that even after the abolition of tribal power structures
and the related institution of cults (which was taking place in his times in
southern Polabia), the other carriers of pre-Christian culture were still alive,
with oral tradition playing the leading role. Hence the eradication of pre-
Christian religious views from social space could take place, just like in the
passage, not under the banner of confrontation with paganism or demonic
powers, but counteracting the ignorance related to fundamental truths of the
Christian credo.
Thus in attempting to explain the genesis of Thietmar’s statement about
the Slavs – omnia (putant) finiri etc. – one should first take into account the
Christian doctrine on life after death, which was considered normative by the
author.142 An important element in this way of reasoning was automatic con-
nection between the afterlife and immortality, whose threshold is the judge-
ment of merits (or sins) and resurrection. This way of thinking was strange to
non-Christianized people or those having only very superficial knowledge of
the dogmas of the new religion.
The discussed passage, when read with consideration for ecclesiastical or
theological categories, clarifies two matters: 1) the Slavs do not believe in repay-
ment after death for what they did in their lifetime and 2) they do not believe
141 Françoise Hiraux, “Les vitae des évangelisateurs, schema de projects et de quotidien-
netés,” in La vie quotidienne des moines et chanoines réguliers au Moyen Age et Temps
modernes, Actes du Premier Colloque International du L.A.R.H.C.O.R. Wrocław – Książ,
30 novembre–4 decembre 1994, vol. 2, ed. Marek Derwich (Wrocław: Institut d’histoire de
l’Université de Wrocław, 1995), pp. 425–438; see also Padberg, “Christen,” pp. 291 f. This
trend becomes visible in the chronicles of Adam of Bremen and Helmold, where the mis-
sion ideology is of major significance – see below, pp. 241, 255, 257, 294.
142 Thietmar I, 14: “… haec loquor, certitudinem resurreccionis et pro qualitate meriti futu-
rae remunerationis firmiter indicens cunctis fidelibus” (“… I say these things announcing
the certainty of the resurrection and future remuneration for the quality of merits to all
faithful”).
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 69
143 E.g. Bruno Meriggi, “Die Anfänge des Christentums bei den Baltischen Slaven,” in
Annales Instituti Slavici 6 (1969–1970): Das heidnische und christlische Slaventum, vol. 2
(Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1970), p. 49; Łowmiański, Religia, p. 235; Urbańczyk, Dawni
Słowianie, p. 158; Bylina, Człowiek, p. 42.
144 The idea of resurrection as an element of a new eschatological reality, characteristic for
Christianity, does not find its counterpart in the circle of Indo-European peoples’ beliefs
(and thus also the Slavic ones before Christianization) referring to cyclical reintegration
of the cosmos.
145 Even A. Brückner tried to use this commentary, however, to no success, which is shown in
further discussion of scholars – see above.
146 Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, pp. 82 f.
147 Thietmar I, 14, p. 23: “Tres namque sunt animae, non equaliter incipientes nec simul
finientes. Prima angelorum incorporeorum, quae cum eis est sine inicio et termino; II
hominum, quae cum eis sumit exordium, sed in fine non habens participium, namque
inmortalis est, et ut quidam gentiles opinantur, in futuro non habens hoc offitium, quod
in hoc seculo; tercia species est animae pecudum et volatilium, quae cum corpore parem
inicii finisque sortitur equalitatem”.
148 As in footnote 113 in this chapter.
70 Chapter 2
149 Thietmar did not define the view of the illiterate as typical of paganism because – as
it was rightly thought by H. Lippelt – he perceived quidam gentiles as educated non-
Christian ancient authors. See Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 83.
150 Basic arguments related to the so-called primitive cults encompass the view that their
followers do not see a clear difference between an animal, human or divine creature, and
the animal creature seems to them to be the basic form – Durkheim, Elementarne formy,
p. 61.
151 Magistri Vincentii dicti Kadłubek Chronica Polonorum, ed. Marian Plezia, MPH n.s. 11
(Kraków: Polska Akademia Umiejętności, 1994), IV, 19. Cf. Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 407.
152 This is possibly supported by zoomorphism of the human soul in Slavic imagery, deduced
from contemporary folk beliefs (the human soul was to have a material form of a bee
or a bird, although it could also be a misty apparition in white). See Urbańczyk, Dawni
Słowianie, p. 158.
153 This view occurs in sources from this epoch, see e.g. Ebo II, 1.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 71
154 A justification for making grave gifts and also suicides or killings of Slavic wives at their
husbands’ funerals, confirmed by Thietmar, most certainly was based on a Slavic belief
in a need for support for the deceased in the beyond, however, not in the least heavenly
ones. See above p. 178.
155 Which is illustrated by the already mentioned motif of nevedomaja strana in Rus’, i.e. an
unknown country, see before, p. 63.
72 Chapter 2
For Thietmar, Boso was an example to follow. It is highly probable that the
above discussed polemic on the afterlife with the views of people referred
to as inlitterati (mainly the Slavs) is an echo of the chronicler’s catechetical
activity – trying to follow in the footsteps of Boso and his preaching. He also
learned the Slavic speech in a way which enabled him to make contacts in this
language and teach in the environment of the Sorbs staying in his diocese.
This inspires the question about the activity of Thietmar’s predecessor and
whether the activity took place among already baptized people or whether its
goal was leading them to baptism. Both of these options are possible. Thietmar
informs that Boso, before becoming a bishop, acted in “the East” – probably
also in benefices which belonged to the church in Merseburg – and this mis-
sion evidently led to the baptism of people living in church demesne or at least
in areas encompassed by the church network.162 Thus, being a bishop, Boso
could continue the (supposed) earlier activity and then his catechesis would
also lead to baptism.
The religious mentality of the Sorbs was visible in their reaction to Boso’s ef-
forts, who wanted them to memorize and repeat Kyrie eleison. In the Christian
religiosity of the time, this formula was attributed miraculous, nearly magic
power.163 Hence it is of no surprise that the Kyrie was introduced as an elemen-
tary prayer, and the measure of its popularity and significance is visible in the
fact that after its development it was transformed into native songs, e.g. the
Czech “Hospodine, pomiluj ny” (God have mercy).164 According to Thietmar,
the Slavs did not appreciate the priest’s efforts and especially the benefits re-
lated to singing Kyrie: “The fools to [their] wickedness jeeringly changed it to
pp. 29–42; Dariusz A. Sikorski, Początki Kościoła w Polsce (Poznań: Wydawnictwo PTPN,
2012), pp. 263 ff.
162 Thietmar II, 36: “Beneficium autem omne, quod ad aecclesias in Merseburg et in
Mimenlevo positas ac ad Thornburg et Kirberge pertinens fuit, antequam ordinaretur,
optinuit. Et quia is in oriente innumeram Christo plebem predicacione assidua et baptis-
mate vendicavit, inperatori placuit eleccionemque de tribus constituendis episcopatibus
ei dedit, Misnensis, Citicensis atque Merseburgiensis.”
163 This was confirmed in the 13th c. by Durandus, see Paweł Sczaniecki, Służba Boża w dawnej
Polsce (Poznań/Warszawa/Lublin: Księgarnia św. Wojciecha, 1962), p. 52. Various situa-
tions in which Kyrie was used were documented by Thietmar himself: IV, 20 – when fatally
ill; IV 22, p. 175 – in joy after withstanding a siege. See also Jerzy Woronczak, Studia o liter-
aturze średniowiecza i renesansu (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego,
1993), p. 77.
164 Bogurodzica, ed. Jerzy Woronczak et al. (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1962), p. 10; Woronczak,
Studia o literaturze, p. 79. Cf. Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 213.
74 Chapter 2
ukrivolsa which means in our language: an alder stands in the bush, while they
were saying: ‘So said Boso’ when he [actually] had said it differently.”165
Although in the replacement of the words Kyrie eleison with “ukrivolsa”,
Thietmar saw maliciousness and the sneering of dull-witted people, the possi-
bilities here for interpretation are much greater. The deformation of the sound
Kyrie in the Slavic environment was not uncommon and not in the least ma-
licious. If one refers to “Krlessu,” mentioned by Cosmas of Prague regarding
the events of the year 968,166 sung by the Czech people, and also the famous
“kierlesch” sung by Poles not only during the battle of Grunwald/Tannenberg
(1410) but also as early as the mid-13th c. during the battle of Iaroslav with the
Rus’ dukes, one may also assume that among Slavs catechised by Boso, Kyrie
received its own special shape, i.e. “ukrivolsa,” without any perverse intention.167
However, adoption of this stance means deviation from the chronicler’s
opinion (or that of his informers) and requires finding certain adaptations to
strange cult activity in the behaviour of the Slavic people. Undoubtedly in this
kind of environment, open to magical practices, the prayer Kyrie could have
been thought to be an incantation and its repetition a mantic practice. This
view is supported by the simultaneous repetition of the apposition that such
a way of prayer was ordered by Boso, which would be the guarantor of its ef-
fectiveness and an intermediary to the sphere of the sacrum. Another way of
reasoning suggests that the Slavs could fear the wrath of their native deities,
and so they added the name of the one who told them to do so.168 This anxi-
ety could be explained by the phenomenon of double faith, where apart from
the new God there was still respect for the efficiency of the activity of earlier
deities.169
The above interpretations are rather disputable, and there is a strong alter-
native for them in the opinion of the chronicler himself, which was commented
165 Thietmar II, 37, p. 101: “Qui vecordes hoc in malum irrisorie mutabant ukrivolsa, quod
nostra lingua dicitur: aeleri stat in frutectum, dicentes: ‘Sic locutus est Boso’, cum ille ali-
ter dixerit”. Cf. Lübke, Fremde, p. 73.
166 Cosmas I, 23; see e.g. Woronczak, Studia o literaturze, pp. 78 f.; Lübke, Fremde, p. 73. It is
worth emphasizing that the Czech chronicler attributed the creation of the Krlessu form
to “simple and benighted”, while the duke’s entourage was to sing “Chrystus kenaido”. This
allows the assumption that garbling of prayers was, as results also from Thietmar’s note, a
typical example of the attitude characteristic of uneducated people and treated as a sign
of stupidity.
167 Sczaniecki, Służba, pp. 51 f.; Woronczak, Studia o literaturze, p. 80.
168 In an essayistic perspective, this way of reasoning was undertaken by Zofia Kossak-
Szczucka, Zygmunt Szatkowski, Troja Północy (Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy PAX,
1986), p. 69.
169 Dziewulski, Postępy, p. 62.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 75
on in a significant way by P. Sczaniecki: “However, the Slavs did not like this
chant and so they garbled it, so it did not make any sense. This does not sur-
prise anyone who developed the right judgement on the tactless behaviour
of the Merseburg apostles. Apart from this, one should take into account that
the Slavs were attached to their own religious songs. Thus, resistance was un-
avoidable, especially given that the new teachings were demanding and hard
to understand, and its songs too simple and monotonous.”170
When summarizing these remarks on the description of Boso’s activity,
one should emphasize that it provides a particular image of the mentality of
the Slavs and inspires further investigation of the motifs of the garble of the
word Kyrie. Moreover, in the precept to repeat the prayer with the missionary’s
name, one finds an effort to include Boso within the sphere of the sacrum,
so that he would become a mediator ensuring contact with the so far strange
Christian God.171 One should also take into account the possibility of “familiar-
izing” the strange (Christian) sacrum and the Slavic practice associated with it
by attempting to identify some sense (in relation to the very words) in a for-
mula so unclear in its original wording.172
This search does not go beyond the sphere of speculations, and so it is still
worth emphasizing the conviction of the chronicler that Christian prayers
were treated by Slavs with a sneer and a lack of understanding. This confirms a
common view that the historiographers of the time showed an aversion to pa-
ganism and did not make any effort to understand its essence (at least to start
polemic, as it was the case at the time of early-Christian apologetics). However,
the case of Boso denies the schematic judgment, so common in 20th c. studies,
that missions in Slavic countries were conducted by priests who did not know
the native language of local people.173
The activity of the above-mentioned predecessor of Thietmar was the sec-
ond fundamental stage of Christianization distinguished in connection with
St. Augustine’s thoughts on missions in the Early Middle Ages – that was
leading the entirety of people to voluntary reception of the new teachings
and baptism after liquidation of institutional paganism (this was the first of
these stages).174 This type of missiological concept became the subject of de-
bate among scholars on the character of the insurgency of the Polabian Slavs
against the rule of the Empire (specifically, the Saxons) in 983.
173 It is essential that this view was based on the theological interpretation of the pagan re-
ligion attributed to the clergy. See e.g. Jerzy Dowiat, Chrzest Polski (Warszawa: Wiedza
Powszechna, 1960), pp. 33 f.
174 See e.g. Hans-Dietrich Kahl, Heidenfrage und Slawenfrage im deutschen Mittelalter.
Ausgwählte Studien 1953–2008, (East Central and Eastern Europe in the Middle Ages, 450–
1450) 4 (Leiden/Boston: Brill, 2011), pp. 466 f.; Storia della chiesa, vol. 4: Il primo Medievo
(VIII–XII secolo), ed. Hubert Jedin (Milano: Jaca Book, 1969), p. 318; Rechowicz, “Początki,”
pp. 20 ff., especially 22 f.
175 See e.g. Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 246 ff. and also below pp. 89 f., footnote 235.
176 Thietmar III, 17–19. For facts see Gerard Labuda, “Powstania Słowian połabskich u
schyłku X wieku,” Slavia Occidentalis 18 (1947), pp. 153–200. Joachim Herrmann, “Der
Lutizenaufstand 983. Zu den geschichtlichen Voraussetzungen und den historischen
Wirkungen,” Zeitschrift für Archäologie 18 (1984) 1, pp. 9–17; Wolfgang H. Fritze, “Der
slawische Aufstand von 983 – eine Schicksalswende in der Geschichte Mitteleuropas,”
in Festschrift der Landesgeschichtlichen Vereinigung für die Mark Brandenburg zu
ihrem hundertjährigen Bestehen 1884–1984, ed. Eckart Henning, Werner Vogel (Berlin:
Landesgeschichtliche Vereinigung für die Mark Brandenburg, 1984), pp. 9–55; Lorenz
Weinrich, “Der Slawenaufstand von 983 in der Darstellung des Bischof Thietmar von
Merseburg,” in Historiographia Mediaevalis. Studien zur Geschichtsschreibung und
Quellenkunde des Mittelalters. Festschrift für Franz-Josef Schmale zum 65. Geburtstag,
ed. Dieter Berg, Hans-Werner Goetz (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft,
1988), p. 77–87; Kazimierz Myśliński, Polska wobec Słowian połabskich do końca wieku XII
(Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS, 1993), pp. 54 ff.; recently: Paweł Babij, Wojskowość Słowian
Połabskich, vol. 1 (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2017), pp. 136–138.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 77
177 Thietmar III, 17: “Gentes, quae suscepta christianitate regibus et inperatoribus tribu-
tarie serviebant, superbia Thiedrici ducis aggravate presumpcione unanimi arma
commoverant.”
178 Jedlicki, “Poglądy,” p. 46. The same in the Polish translation of Thietmar III, 17, p. 130.
179 See Thietmar VI, 10; VI, 99; VIII, 23. See also Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, pp. 285, 291, 302.
These chronicler’s opinions are in harmony with a wider context of medieval morality, in
which superbia is indicated as the main and very typical “class-related” sin of feudal lords.
Georges Duby, Czasy katedr. Sztuka i społeczeństwo 980–1420 (Warszawa: PIW, 1986) [orig.
Le temps des cathédrales, l’Art et la Société, 980–1420 (Paris 1976)], p. 72; Prucnal, “Władca
chrześcijański,” p. 8.
180 The appearance of the name “Liutici” was an expression of the transformation which
took place in the social and political life of the Veleti tribes. Its consequence turned out
to be the formation of a supra-tribal community concentrated around the sanctuary in
Radogošč that expressed its identity with this new name – e.g. Christian Lübke, “The
Polabian Alternative. Paganism between Christian Kingdoms,” in Europe around the year
1000, ed. Przemysław Urbańczyk (Warszawa: DiG, 2001), pp. 379–389; Tomasz Skonieczny,
“Od Wieletów do Luciców. W sprawie zmiany tożsamości plemion wieleckich u schyłku X
wieku,” in Populi terrae marisque. Prace poświęcone pamięci Profesora Lecha Leciejewicza,
ed. Marian Rębkowski, Stanisław Rosik (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2011) pp. 83–91; Jarosław
Sochacki, “Związek Lucicki – między Polską a Cesarstwem do 1002 r.,” Slavia Antiqua
47 (2006), pp. 26 ff.; Felix Biermann, “Zentralisierungsprozesse bei den nördlichen
Elbslawen,” in Zentralisierungsprozesse und Herrschaftsbildung im frühmittelalterlichen
Ostmitteleuropa, ed. Przemysław Sikora, (Studien zur Archäologie Europas) 23 (Bonn:
Habelt Verlag, 2014), p. 175.
181 According to Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 261 f. the expression “suscepta christianitate”
means “mass Christianization”, and this is why he accused Thietmar of a lack of credibil-
ity, see also below.
78 Chapter 2
considered Christian.182 However, in the case of the Veleti, before 983 there
was most probably no conversion even of the tribal elders.183 This view is sup-
ported not only by a lack of sources, but also by the very success of the rebel-
lion raised in the same year, as well as by the prime of the native cult.
Thus, it should be assumed that the information about the previous
Christianization by the insurgent Liutici shows the German clergy’s perspec-
tive on the dissemination of Christianity, and not so much the advancement of
individual conversions of the Slavic people or their positive attitude to the new
religion. From this perspective, it was essential to first extend imperial control
and the related church network units to areas of the Barbaricum. Thus, achiev-
ing of expansionist political goals created good conditions for missionary ac-
tivity. However, it did not mean that such an action would be undertaken.
In an earlier debate among historians, especially Polish ones, the German
clergy of the 10th c. was accused of a lack of ardour in the conversion of Slavs,
contenting themselves with the establishment of new bishoprics and tributes
received by the empire, lay lords, and clergy.184 It was also taken into account
that decisions on undertaking missions were postponed due to the hatred of
the Slavic people toward the new rule and its institutions, leaving nobody to
want to exacerbate these tones by forcing baptism among the invaded people.
This left the matter of mass Christianization to the efforts of clergymen whose
182 On the basis of this Thietmar presents the situation in Poland in the times of the first
Piasts, he treated this country as a Christian one (see below, pp. 176 f). In this context it is
worth mentioning a classical opinion of Aleksander Gieysztor, “Przemiany ideologiczne
w państwie pierwszych Piastów a wprowadzenie chrześcijaństwa,” in Początki Państwa
Polskiego Księga Tysiąclecia, vol. 2, ed. Kazimierz Tymieniecki et al. (Poznań: PWN, 1962),
p. 165: “The Church was interested in the conversion of elites which were treated as pars
pro toto also because personal experience of individuals was not as important for it as
the mass awareness [emphasis – S.R.] of large groups of baptized people who were
controlled by external discipline. The pressure of political power shaped the intended
group attitudes not infrequently using ad terrorem measures, as was shown by Thietmar
in Poland in the times of Boleslav the Brave. According to the Church, it aroused special
responsibility of the ruler for the salvation of his people, without which his own salva-
tion would not be possible”. Imputing in the above statement “large groups of baptized
people” the phenomenon of “mass awareness” as opposed to “personal experience of an
individual” is a certain identification mark of the research methodology which today is
rather obsolete.
183 H . Łowmiański, as in footnote 181 in this chapter; Aleksander Gieysztor, “Bemerkungen
zur Apostasie in Zentral- und Osteuropa im 10. und 11. Jahrhundert,” Zeitschrift für
Archäologie 18 (1984), p. 5.
184 E .g. Kazimierz Tymieniecki, “Państwo polskie w stosunku do Niemiec i cesarstwa
średniowiecznego w X wieku.” Początki Państwa Polskiego. Księga Tysiąclecia, vol. 1, ed.
Kazimierz Tymieniecki et al. (Poznań: PWN, 1962), p. 290.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 79
activity was often considered exceptional – e.g. Boso or Wigbert – or the “natu-
ral flow of events.”185
This type of speculation is marked by (and radicalized by) the trauma
of the Second World War – a social debate on the “eternal” hostile attitude
of Germans toward the Slavs, in the context of which a view expressed by
H. Łowmiański seems to be even stronger, namely that Thietmar’s information
on the Christianization of the Veleti before 983 was a cliché.186 As a matter of
fact, the chronicler was to focus only on the imposition of tributary obligations
on the Slavic tribes, and only this fact was to predetermine whether they were
considered Christian.187
This kind of opinion suggests that the chronicler intended to distort reality.
However, he wrote for an audience that could discover any confabulation –
witnesses of the described events were in fact still alive – so at least for this
reason it is worth questioning the intentions attributed to him, and undertak-
ing a search for an alternative explanation for the particular words used to de-
scribe the acceptance of Christianity by the Liutici before their rebellion in the
10th c. A compelling perspective is created in this case by a reference to re-
search on the role of the empire in the intellectual milieu of the chronicler and
especially in the missiological reflections of the time.
It is worth remembering that Thietmar – analogically to St. Augustine’s
thought, in which sacerdotium and imperium are two pillars of civitas Dei in
an earthly dimension – depicts the monarchy (imperial or royal power) as a
representation of Christ’s kingdom in the temporal world. This is why even the
very inclusion of particular peoples by the imperial authority and the related
church structures, in the opinion of church circles, made them subjects of the
Kingdom of God,188 which in certain situations did not have to be connected
to the advancement of individual conversion, as is indicated in the chronicle.
185 E.g. ibidem, and also: Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 262 f.; Jan Śrutwa, “Diecezje Pomorza
Zachodniego (Diecezja Wolińska a później Kamieńska) między związkami z Gnieznem,
Magdeburgiem i bezpośrednią zależnością od Stolicy Apostolskiej,” Szczecińskie Studia
Kościelne 2 (1991), p. 33. For information on mass Christenings of the Slavic people con-
ducted by Boso also in areas where there had already existed a lasting Church network,
see above pp. 72 f.
186 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 261 f.
187 H. Łowmiański developed this thought referring not only to Thietmar’s data, but also to
Wipo’s work created in the mid-11th c., in which before the rebellion in 983, the Liutici
were considered as semi-Christians (semichristiani) and after the rebellion as pagans: “it
seems that semichristiani are the pagans who pay tribute, and those who stopped doing
so are qualified as pagani” – ibidem, p. 262, footnote 675.
188 It is worth emphasizing that the Christianization of the Slavs, de facto funding the
Magdeburg metropolis on their lands, was one of the merits which, according to Thietmar,
80 Chapter 2
justified the imperial title bestowed upon Otto I in 962, although it is hard to speak about
personal conversion of the people subdued in 955. See Lübke, “Zwischen Triglav,” p. 25.
For missions in the Ottonian times with consideration for military aspects see Padberg,
Die Christianisierung, pp. 150–153.
189 Wavra, Salzburg und Hamburg, p. 15. The summary information provided by Adam of
Bremen, that after the battle of Lenzen in 929 “… baptizatusque est totus gentilium popu-
lus, ecclesiae in Sclavania tunc primum constructae” (“… and the whole pagan people was
baptized and churches were built then in Slavdom for the first time”) should be under-
stood in the same spirit – cf. Magistri Adam Bremensis Gesta Hammmaburgensis Ecclesiae
Pontificum, ed. Bernhard Schmeidler, MGH SSrerGerm in usum scholarum (1917) [further:
Adam], II, 5 (see also below p. 209). The concept of conversion of whole peoples was cre-
ated in reference to the order to preach the holy gospel given in the Vulgate: docete omnes
gentes. Nota bene, this expression loses the sense of the original, Greek text: “make the
disciples of all nations”, however, it perfectly well presents the key postulate of the medi-
eval missionary doctrine to evangelise all groups of people, thus “teaching and christen-
ing all nations”.
190 Gens in this context is not only a political or ethnic category, it also has theological con-
notations, which was prejudged by the influence of the Vulgate on the understanding
of such notions as gens, populus and natio in the Middle Ages, see Benedykt Zientara,
“Populus – gens – natio. Z zagadnień wczesnośredniowiecznej terminologii etnicznej,” in
Cultus et cognitio. Studia z dziejów średniowiecznej kultury, ed. Stefan K. Kuczyński et al.
(Warszawa: PWN, 1976), p. 677; idem, Świt narodów europejskich (Warszawa: PIW, 1985),
pp. 20 ff. See also below, p. 208, footnote 54.
191 Thietmar III, 17: “Vice Christi et piscatoris eiusdem venerabilis Petri varia demoniacae
heresis cultura deinceps veneratur …” On Peter the Apostle as Christ’s Fisher see the
Gospel According to St. Luke (Lk 5:10); cf. Forstner, Świat, p. 297.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 81
192 Wipo, Gesta Chuonradi II, ed. Harry Bresslau, MGH SSrerGerm in usum scholarum (1915),
33, p. 52.
193 The memory of this original Church organisation in the northern Polabia, established in
the 10th c., was preserved until the times of the next Christianization of these lands in the
12th c.; a good example here is the presentation of Havelberg in the hagiography of
St. Otto of Bamberg in the 50’s of the 12th c. (see Ebo III, 3).
194 The expression semipagani, half-pagans, functioned in a similar way and expressed the
idea that wide masses of people included in the Christian circle for a few generations
were Christianised only to a small extent (a good example is what Cosmas I, 4, wrote
about the attitude of Czech rural people in the 12th c., see also below, pp. 149, 152).
195 Kahl, Die ersten Jahrhunderte, p. 52. In this way of reasoning, the notions of heresy seem
the most significant, and it referred to the rejection of the earlier accepted Christian re-
ligion, i.e. apostasy, because according to the Church doctrine no deed could cancel bap-
tism, even repudiation of religion.
196 E.g. Gieysztor, Bemerkungen, pp. 5–7.
82 Chapter 2
197 The rule was coined on the basis of an allegorical interpretation of an evangelical par-
able (cf. Lk 14:23) about a feast in which any people met in the streets were forced to
participate.
198 Stanisław Kowalczyk, “Filozofia pokoju św. Augustyna,” Vox Patrum 8 (1988), p. 855.
199 See Kahl, Compellere intrare, p. 173. The Letter to King Henry II, written in about 1008, is
of basic importance here, in the letter St. Bruno ordered the ruler of Germany to with-
draw from a military alliance with the Liutici and make them join the Church. See below,
pp. 107 f.
200 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 261 ff.
201 Recently e.g. Janion, Niesamowita Słowiańszczyzna, pp. 15 f.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 83
and narrowed the principle of compellere intrare only to apostates.202 This de-
parture from the principle of St. Augustine’s concept was characteristic in the
wider context of this epoch.203
In the context of these findings, and returning to Thietmar’s passage that
was discussed earlier, one should revise the view that defining the Slavic return
to paganism as heresy (“haeresis cultura”) is strictly connected with recogniz-
ing them as apostates, not pagans. It is hard to speak here about such a cor-
relation. Since Thietmar did not mention individual conversion in the case of
the Liutici, it is difficult to consider at all the impossibility of the obliteration
of baptism, as was the case when it came to typical heretics and apostates in
Late Antiquity or the High Middle Ages; the discussed passage of the chronicle
refers only to the level of gentes.
Thietmar based his laconic description of the situation, which occurred
as a consequence of the Slavic uprising in 983, on the rule of juxtaposition
of grace and sin and, more precisely, the antithesis of the worship of Christ
accompanied by St. Peter and demonic heresy. However, in the same sen-
tence he mentioned that this turn of events was favoured not only by pagans,
but also by Christians.204 Thus, parallel to the above-mentioned theological
qualifications, a division between pagans and Christians also appears here.
Perforce apostasy or heresy is outlined in this context as transition to the side
of paganism,205 which is in accordance with the information from Wipo’s work
on the total repaganisation of the Liutici as a result of their “apostatic evilness”
(apostatica nequitia).
That Thietmar claimed that this change praised pagans along with Christians
nowadays sounds very enigmatic and has provoked various speculations. Over
half a century ago Gerard Labuda proposed to treat this place as an indication
that only a part of the rebellious Polabian Slavdom was Christened, while the
root of the rebellion was in a part concentrated around the sanctuary and the
assembly in Radogošč. In this conception, the Christians happily returning
to paganism were Slavs burdened with tributes and duties to the Empire and
202 Roman Michałowski, “Król czy misjonarz? Rozumienie misji w X/XI w.,” in Bruno z
Kwerfurtu. Osoba – dzieło – epoka, ed. Marian Dygo, Wojciech Fałkowski (Pułtusk:
Wydawnictwo Akademii Humanistycznej im. Aleksandra Gieysztora, 2010), pp. 140–142,
pays particular attention to this. The author emphasizes the terminological concurrence
of the expression of a mission war with the pagans in the Letter to King Henry and the
Life of St. Adalbert in the form of compelle intrare (“force [them] to enter”).
203 E.g. Le Goff, Kultura, p. 158; Vauchez, Duchowość, p. 11.
204 Ibidem: “et flebilis haec mutatio non solum a gentilibus, verum etiam a christianis
extollitur.”
205 It is hard not to first of all see the Liutici in the mentioned pagans, see below.
84 Chapter 2
206 Labuda, “Powstania Słowian,” p. 174. Idem, Fragmenty, vol. 1, p. 226, footnote 92 (similarly
Słupecki, “Einflüsse,” p. 178).
207 Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 164.
208 Lübke, “Zwischen Triglav,” p. 26, claims that the pagan attack turned mainly against the
clergy and the secular members of the elite of the Empire, but not against particular
Christian believers.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 85
209 However, it is not very probable that they would turn out to be the only decisive factor
in the Veleti decision on starting the war, as then Thietmar, who had good orientation
in the situation, would not decide to use false – and so also weak – argumentation sup-
porting his views, see: Labuda, “Powstania Słowian,” pp. 169 f.; idem, Fragmenty, vol. 1,
pp. 222 f., 226. However, a view expressed some time ago by Koczy, “Thietmar i Widukind,”
p. 659, that “liquidation of the Merseburg bishopric in 981 was the best proof that the
Empire sacrificed the missions among the Slavs at the cost of the Italian affairs” is widely
exaggerated.
210 For chronology of the rebellion and other events at that time, see Labuda, “Powstania
Słowian,” pp. 167 ff.; idem, Fragmenty, vol. 1, pp. 210 ff., and especially p. 215–217; Babij,
Wojskowość, pp. 136 f. For the Obodrite leader Mstivoy and his possible participation in
the rebellion in 983, see Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 1, pp. 217–222, 300, and also Bernhard
Friedmann, Untersuchungen zur Geschichte des abodritischen Fürstentums bis zum Ende
des 10. Jahrhunderts (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1986), pp. 259–272. See also above p. 76,
footnote 176.
211 Thietmar III, 16: “Sed quae res destruccionem hanc subsequerentur, lector, attende!”
212 Thietmar III, 17. This “rain” sent to the righteous and unrighteous is a reference to the
Gospel (Mt 5:45).
86 Chapter 2
property, which is the reason for a very pejorative assessment of their behav-
iour by the chronicler, who used the expression avari canes in his description.213
The concept of presenting these events as punishment for the decisions
made in Rome in 981 remains in accordance with the information placed just
after the description of the Slavic rebellion. This section referred to a raid by
the Czechs – de facto from 987 – who attacked the diocese in Zeitz. They were
yet another assailant of the Merseburg diocese. Later the chronicler writes
about looting the St. Lawrence Monastery in Kalbe,214 adding a theological ex-
planation of the reasons for the defeat: “Our wrongdoings caused our fear and
made their spirit stronger.”215 It is striking that the chronicler feels solidarity
in the guilt and sense of defeat with the losing Saxons, which probably results
directly from the fact that his relatives were involved in the conflict.216 In this
way the motif of God’s punishment administered for sins exceeds the matters
related to the liquidation of the bishopric of Merseburg, but this city still does
not lose its significance in this context. Suddenly, there was a twist of action
on the literary stage of history, and the wave of pagan success was stopped by
a miraculous intervention from heavens, namely St. Lawrence the patron saint
of the Merseburg diocese.
These plots will be developed in another story dedicated to the raid of the
Obodrite duke Mstivoy who attacked Hamburg, although it most certainly did
not have much to do with the rebellion in 983.217 Thietmar combines a de-
scription of a town fire with a miraculous event: in the middle of the flames a
213 Thietmar III, 17 called Slavic plunderers who defaced the corpse of Bishop Dodilo “greedy
dogs” (avari canes). It does not seem that this expression was restricted only for the Slavs
because the same phrase was used by Thietmar (IV, 25) when he refers to Danes (cf. e.g.
Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 243 f.). For the topical expression canes strictly
referring to the Slavs see below pp. 237, 289 f. In earlier historiography this emphasis on
the greediness of the Slavs expressed in plundering churches, was considered an indica-
tion that the reason for their mutiny was economic oppression and mainly the tithe (see
e.g. Labuda, Powstania Słowian, pp. 161, 173). In the light of this research speculations of
this type do not seem justified: Thietmar’s significant interest in devastations of church
facilities is conditioned mainly by his particular interest in the religious aspect of these
dramatic events.
214 It was the ancestral monastery of Saxon margraves, see e.g. Friedman, Untersuchungen,
pp. 260 f.
215 Thietmar III, 18: “nostra etenim facinora nobis formidinem et his suggerebant validam
mentem”.
216 One should especially emphasize the participation in fights with the rebellious Slavs of
the chronicler’s father, count Siegfried.
217 Most probably Mstivoy’s attack of Hamburg took place a few years later, see Labuda,
“Powstania Słowian,” pp. 169, 192 f.; Babij, Wojskowość, p. 139. See also below, pp. 235 f.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 87
golden right hand appeared from heaven to lift and save the relics of saints.218
The chronicler emphasizes that the miracle happened in a place where a bish-
opric formerly had been located,219 and this in a sense connected Hamburg
with Merseburg, which had also lost the rank of bishopric capital.220 Thus this
moment that stoked the chronicler’s empathy could have influenced his will to
show appreciation for Hamburg in the pages of the chronicle by mentioning
this miracle, but it would not be his only motivation.
The admiration of the army for this supernatural intervention in the narra-
tive was accompanied by fear of the Obodrite duke, Mstivoy, who ultimately
became insane, which seems a trite motif in descriptions of people who stood
out against God.221 However, when shortly before his death he was sprinkled
with holy water – most certainly as a form of exorcism – he reacted by shout-
ing that he was being burnt by St. Lawrence,222 which referred to an earlier
description of the Slavic raid of the monastery in Kalbe, which had this saint
as its patron. Mstivoy’s insanity and his abandonment to the fate of demonic
powers, in the perspective of the chronicle, appears to be punishment for the
destruction of the said monastery223 as a display of vengeance from God him-
self and his saint.224
The chronicler did not mention the fact that the Obodrite duke participated
in the raid that devastated Kalbe. He attracted the revenge of God, and espe-
cially St. Lawrence, only for his role in the community of those who assailed
218 Thietmar III, 18; cf. Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 298. For the symbolic meaning of
the “hand of God” (manus Dei) as a sign of supernatural custody, see e.g. Forstner, Świat,
pp. 352 f.; Le Goff, Kultura, p. 164.
219 Thietmar III, 18: “ubi sedes episcopalis quondam fuit”.
220 For information on moving the capital to Bremen see below, p. 205.
221 Possibly it is a motif inspired by the Bible – e.g. the Book of Isaiah (Is 19:14) in Vulgate:
“miscuit in medio eius spiritum vertiginis”; cf. also Helmold II, 100: God confused the
minds of the Slavs and they were defeated in the battle.
222 The fact that Mstivoy underwent church rites indicates that he did not reject Christianity,
and even if he did, it was for a short time. The very burning down of Hamburg, and – as
one can assume from the information on the fate of the mentioned relics of saints – the
local church, is not identical with apostasy.
223 Thietmar’s information about the revenge taken by St. Lawrence on Mstivoy can be an
argument to support the view that he participated in the raid of the monastery in Kalbe,
however, it is hard to take any definite decisions only on this basis – see M.Z. Jedlicki
in: Thietmar, p. 133, footnote 103; Adam Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne Obodrzyców. Od
IX wieku do utraty niepodległości w latach 1160–1164 (Kraków: Nomos, 2004), p. 105; Jerzy
Strzelczyk, Bohaterowie Słowian Połabskich (Poznań: Wydawnictwo Poznańskie, 2017),
p. 181.
224 There is a similar situation in Thietmar V, 12 – here the chronicler claims that it was
God himself to punish the Alamans with death, because they destroyed the church in
Strasbourg – cf. e.g. Prucnal, “Władca chrześcijański,” p. 12.
88 Chapter 2
the Church, the core of which was the rebellious Slavs from 983. In this context
it is especially worth remembering St. Lawrence’s special role as protector of
Merseburg. The cathedral in this town was dedicated to him, and the bishopric
there was founded by Otto I out of gratitude for victory over a dozen years ear-
lier in the battle on the Lech River (955).225 Hence Thietmar created an image
of the patron saint of his own diocese as an intercessor ensuring the effective
protection for the Saxons in the time of war.
The description of the supernatural intervention from Hamburg and the
reminiscence of Mstivoy’s defeat in Thietmar’s narration are a prelude to the
change of fate for the endangered Christian world.226 It was brought about
by the battle of the Tanger River (983), which was preceded, however, by227 a
schematic picture of the immense devastation of the whole area of the Slavs’
rebellion and further emphasis on the power of rebellious tribes: “By the time
the Slavs had burned and pillaged all the burgs and villages as far as the river
Tanger, there were more than thirty bands of warriors on foot and horseback.
Without sustaining any losses and aided by their gods, they did not hesitate to
ravage the rest of the region, as their blaring trumpets preceded them.”228 It is
worth turning attention to the support offered to the Slavs by their gods: they
were preceded by trumpeters,229 so these gods were idols or most certainly
banners of gods, the so called “stanice” (sing. “stanica”), which are called gods
by the chronicler following biblical examples.230
Thus, Thietmar sketched an image of the earthly confrontation of spiri-
tual powers, which becomes especially expressive when juxtaposed with the
later part of the narration where he described the Saxon counteroffensive.
The Saxon leaders and army gathered to resist the Slavs before the decisive
battle, which was to take place on Saturday, and underwent the necessary spir-
itual preparations: “They all attend to mass; makeing their bodies and souls
stronger with the heavenly sacrament.”231 Their victory was celebrated in the
Saxon camp on Sunday, the day which is specially predisposed for celebration
of triumph, and was also interpreted theologically as an appropriate day for
overcoming evil powers.
The Battle of the Tanger River actually stopped the military progress of
the Slavs, but scholars rightly doubt whether it was such a spectacular Saxon
victory232 as was claimed by Thietmar. In the success of the Christian side he
saw a miraculous sign from God: “Praised is God by the victors in all miracu-
lous deeds and the truthful words of Doctor Paul were confirmed: ‘There is no
prudence, no force, no counsel [that can succeed] against the Lord.’”233 The
chronicler finished the passage with a classic interpretatio Christiana perspec-
tive of the Slavic cult, whose essentialized idolatry was putting creation above
the Creator: “Abandoned were those who at first decided to reject God and
who foolishly placed the hand-made and completely meaningless idols over
their creator.”234
This completed the historical narrative of the direct consequences of the
liquidation of the Merseburg bishopric, with the respect to the theological
perspective. In the light of Thietmar’s narrative the consequences were most
significant for the German church, starting with the suffragan dioceses of the
Magdeburg metropolis, which corresponds with the fact that Archbishop
Gisiler was considered the main culprit of the “freedom” (libertas) of the
Merseburg attack. In this way the chronicler created his own interpretation
of a common perspective, which was not new for the imperial elites, and ex-
plained the eruption of the Slavic rebellion as punishment for the liquidation
of the Merseburg diocese. He did not copy Bruno of Querfurt’s concept, who
only about a dozen years earlier indicated that Emperor Otto II should take
the main burden of guilt in this case, and his sin offended not so much God
himself, but St. Lawrence as the patron of the bishopric in Merseburg.235
231 Thietmar III, 19: “missam omnes audiunt, corpus animamque caelestii sacramento muni-
unt”. See also Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, pp. 293, 298.
232 For the battle of Tanger see e.g.: Labuda, Powstania Słowian, pp. 154, 157; Babij, Wojskowość,
p. 137.
233 Thietmar III, 19: “Laudatur a victoribus in cunctis Deus mirabilis operibus, approbaturque
veredicus Pauli doctoris sermo: ‘Non est prudentia, neque fortitudo nec consilium adver-
sus Domine’”. It is important to mention that this is not St. Paul’s thought but the Book of
Proverbs (Prov 21:30). See also Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 293.
234 Thietmar III, 19: “Derelicti sunt, qui prius Deum spernere presumpserunt idolaque manu-
facta et prorsus inania creatori suo stulto preposuerunt.” Cf. Rom 1:25.
235 See Sancti Adalberti Pragensis, episcopi et martyris Vita altera auctore Brunone Querfurtensi,
ed. Jadwiga Karwasińska, MPH n.s. 4/2 (1969) [further: Vita Adalberti II], 10, 12; see e.g.
90 Chapter 2
Thietmar, in appreciation for the prominent role of Gisiler, places the em-
peror among the secondary culprits in this matter, without offering him any
absolution however. When the narritive of the chronicle returns to the Italian
issues and to the events of the year 982, the motif of punishment for Otto recurs.
After a battle of Cotrone in Calabria where he was defeated by the Saracens,
he was to admit: “Because of my sins I have fallen into this misery.”236 The con-
ventional tone of this confession can support the thesis that the chronicler did
not necessarily refer strictly to the Merseburg affairs, and he more probably
expressed a general, not very favourable assessment of Otto’s rule.
It is difficult, however, to find in the chronicle a sin committed by this em-
peror that would be bigger than the liquidation of the diocese of Merseburg.
Hence, as an alternative possibility, one should take into account that accord-
ing to Thietmar even the defeat at Cotrone started a string of misfortunes that
fell on the empire after the memorable synod in Rome in 981, and the one
that followed was the Slavic rebellion, which is laconically mentioned again by
the chronicler, this time chronologically, stating its date expressis verbis: 983.237
However, the fact that he earlier decided to devote such an extensive digres-
sion regardless of chronology, strongly supports the view that he not only had
a ready image of the theological and moral interpretation of the consequences
of the liquidation of the Merseburg diocese (it was convergent with the one
presented by St. Bruno earlier), but also that this image was considered “ca-
nonical” by himself in the environmental debate in which he participated.
The description of the rebellion of Polabian Slavs in 983 provides rich ma-
terial for research on the Christian interpretation of Slavic religion. In terms
of theological assessment, there are prominent categories – such as apostasy,
demonic heresy, and vain idolatry – connected with the typical focus on valu-
ing idols (idola) more than the Creator. Moreover, in this part of the narra-
tion paganism constitutes an important factor on the stage of history. On one
hand it embodies forces hostile to Christ and his followers, defeated in mili-
tary action thanks to explicit supernatural support (God, St. Lawrence). On the
other hand, pagans are a passive tool of God’s punishment. The chronicler’s
emotiveness also becomes visible – “greedy dogs” etc. Thus, there is striking
agreement in the negative assessment of primary religion from the theological
Michał Tomaszek, “Brunon z Kwerfurtu i Otton II: powstanie słowiańskie 983 roku jako
grzech cesarza,” Kwartalnik Historyczny 109 (2002) 4, pp. 5–23.
236 Thietmar III, 21: “peccatis meis id promerentibus ad hanc veni miseriam.”
237 Ibidem, III, 24. This information is an additional note from Annales Quedlinburgenses
and could have appeared after completing the first version of Thietmar’s work, see
W. Trillmich in: Thietmari Merseburgensis Episcopi Chronicon, ed. Trillmich, p. 113,
footnote 93.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 91
perspective and its destructive role in the history of the Empire and the related
Church network as well as among the Saxons themselves.
2.5 The regnum ablatum War between Mieszko I and Boleslav the Pious
In a description of the military conflict (hypothetically dated to 990) between
Poland and Bohemia,238 supported by the Liutici, Thietmar confirmed that
the latter made human offerings.239 When the already defeated Czech ruler,
Boleslav the Pious, was on his way back home, he came across a stronghold
whose name was not mentioned by the chronicler, “and without any resistance
of its inhabitants, he seized it and its lord, whom he gave to the Liutici for
beheading. Without delay they sacrificed him to their tutelary gods in front
of the gates of the city.”240 This laconic information was not supported with
any theological commentary, and in terms of vocabulary was primarily neutral
(apart from the expression dii, which automatically recalled negative connota-
tions related to paganism).
The testimony about a Slavic human offering is not surprising, and there
is a high probability that the use of the expression decollere to indicate the
type of death can be interpreted not only as killing in general but, literally,
as beheading. Sources confirm that Slavic deities were offered cut heads (e.g.
Adam of Bremen,241 the Letter of Bruno of Querfurt to King Henry II),242 for
238 Czech Boleslav II the Pious wanted to regain some “dominion taken away from him” (“reg-
num sibi ablatum”) by Polish Mieszko I, most often it is hypothetically located in the
territories of Silesia or Lusatia. The date of 990 was proposed on the basis of a record in
Czech historiography from the 12th c. claiming that this was the year when the Czechs
lost Niemcza (Nimptsch), and the strongholds bearing this name were located in Silesia
(see below, p. 149) and in Lusatia. The discussion about it has been continued for genera-
tions and is not over yet. On this matter, see e.g. Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Przyłączenie Śląska
do monarchii piastowskiej pod koniec X wieku,” in Od plemienia do państwa. Śląsk na tle
Słowiańszczyzny Zachodniej, ed. Lech Leciejewicz (Wrocław/Warszawa: Volumen, 1991),
pp. 120–152; cf. Stanisław Rosik, “The formation of Silesia (to 1163). Factors of regional
integration,” in The long formation of the Region Silesia (c. 1000–1526), ed. Przemysław
Wiszewski, (Cuius regio? Ideological and Territorial Cohesion of the Historical Region of
Silesia (c. 1000–2000) 1) (Wrocław: Publishing House Wydawnictwo eBooki.com.pl, 2013),
pp. 54 f.
239 A description of these events Thietmar, IV, 11–13. See Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 1, pp. 298 f.;
Myśliński, Polska wobec Słowian, pp. 40 f.; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 138, 241 f.
240 Thietmar IV, 13, p. 163: “et hanc [scil. urbem – S.R.] cum domino eius, urbanis nil repug-
nantibus, acquisivit eundemque Liuticis ad decollandum dedit. Nec mora, diis fautoribus
haec ostia ante urbem offertur”.
241 See below, p. 244.
242 The Letter of Bruno see below, p. 107, footnote 320; see below pp. 244–246, where there is
also more information about the Slavic custom of offering a cut off head.
92 Chapter 2
243 E.g. according to Adam IV, 27: “… ex omni animante, quod masculinum est, novem capita
offeruntur …” (“… of every living creature, which is male, nine heads are offered …”). Cf.
Anders Hultgård, “Från ögonvittnesskildring till retorik: Adam av Bremens notiser om
Uppsalakulten i religionshistorisk belysning,” in Uppsalakulten och Adam av Bremen, ed.
Anders Hultgård (Nora: Nya Doxa, 1997), p. 32.
244 Leszek P. Słupecki, “Archaeological Sources and Written Sources in Studying Symbolic
Culture (Exemplified by Research on the Pre-Christian Religion of the Slavs),” in Theory
and Practice of Archaeological Research, vol. 3, ed. Stanisław Tabaczyński (Warsaw: IAE
PAN, 1998), p. 339.
245 After making a human offering, mentioned according to this passage, the Liutici decided
to return home, which became a reason for the speculation that a ritual murder was in
this case accompanied by divination which predestined the decision of Liutici leaders
(such opinion was expressed by Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 242 f.).
246 This special care shown by Thietmar, also as a bishop, for “our” (nostri) people is discussed
by Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 121.
247 T
hietmar IV, 13. In the Polish translation of this passage of the chronicle M.Z. Jedlicki
used the word “wiarołomny”, i.e. “unfaithful” in the meaning of “treacherous”, for infideles,
which in the context was to indicate that the Liutici broke their obligation not to attack
the Saxons released by Boleslav. However, in the chronicle there is no testimony for such
obligation of the Liutici, there is only a request made to them by the Czech ruler not to
chase the Saxons. The renewal of the Czech-Veleti alliance in this situation, contrary to
the suggestion of the Polish translator, did not have to mean a ban on chase Saxons.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 93
2.6 Radogošč
The account in Thietmar’s chronicle of the participation of the Liutici in the
war with Boleslav the Brave, in which they supported Henry II, provides an op-
portunity to explore Radogošč.249 It is a good example of a very capable politi-
cal intuition among the Liutici, since they knew how to use conflicts between
their Christian neighbours to their own benefit.250 They joined the German
expedition that started in September 1005 on the day before crossing the Oder
(Odra) River and – as was mentioned by the chronicler – “they followed their
gods that went at the front.”251 He meant here images of gods carried in front
of the army.252 The lack of a more extensive comment on these idols is com-
pensated by the author’s introduction to the description of the sanctuary in
Radogošč:
“Although I shudder to say anything about them, nevertheless, in order that
you, dear reader, may better understand the vain superstition and meaningless
worship of this people, I will briefly explain who they are and from whence they
have come.”253 So Thietmar recoiled from presenting the pagan religion, but
248 See e.g. Thietmar VI, 25. This category was used on the pages of the chronicle more often,
it turns out to be ambiguous but in the case of Liutici adequate for apostasy suggested by
the chronicler. H.-D. Kahl emphasizes that in the Middle Ages the word infideles was used
to refer to non-Christians (Jews and pagans) as well as heretics, “false Christians”. Kahl,
Die ersten Jahrhunderte, pp. 46 f.
249 For the matter of the Empire-Liutici alliance and the expedition in 1005 see Labuda,
Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 187; Myśliński, Polska wobec Słowian, pp. 83 ff.; Grzegorz Domański,
“Problem plemienia (?) Nice,” in Słowiańszczyzna w Europie średniowiecznej. Księga
pamiątkowa dla Lecha Leciejewicza, vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne państwa, ed. Zofia
Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 1996), pp. 61 ff.; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 144–147.
250 Zygmunt Sułowski, “Sporne problemy dziejów Związku Wieletów-Luciców,” in
Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami a Polską. Materiały z konferencji nau-
kowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w dniach 28–29 IV 1980 r., ed. Jerzy
Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), p. 163; cf. Piotr Bogdanowicz, “Co można
wydedukować z Kroniki Thietmara? Ważny fragment z dziejów panowania Bolesława
Chrobrego,” Nasza Przeszłość 10 (1959), pp. 71–111; Babij, Wojskowość, p. 144.
251 Thietmar VI, 22: “deos suimet precedentes subsequuti”.
252 E.g. ibidem VII, 64.
253 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, pp. 252 f.; cf. Thietmar VI, 23: “Quamvis
autem de hiis aliquid dicere perhorrescam, tamen, ut scias, lector amate, vanam eorum
94 Chapter 2
supersticionem inanioremque populi istius executionem, qui sint vel unde huc venerint,
strictim enodabo”.
254 On the role of this excurse in the Thietmar’s chronicle see also Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der
Anfang, p. 135.
255 See above, p. 45, footnote 27.
256 Thietmar VI, 22: “Est urbs quaedam in pago Riedirierun Riedegost nomine, tricornis ac
tres in se continens portas, quam undique silva ab incolis intacta et venerabilis circumdat
magna. Duae eiusdem portae cunctis introeuntibus patent; tercia, quae orientem respicit
et minima est, tramitem ad mare iuxta positum et visu nimis horribile monstrat.”
257 Stanisław Rosik, “O ‘rozpoznawaniu’ civitas w świecie słowiańskich plemion (tzw. Geograf
Bawarski a łacińskie przekazy z XI–XII w.). Uwagi do dyskusji nad kształtowaniem się
pojęcia grodu,” in Funkcje grodów w państwa wczesnośredniowiecznej Europy Środkowej.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 95
trade and crafts). However, in this case he did not use a term that would em-
phasize the centre of military functions (e.g. castrum, munimentum), but he
uses the same terms as in the case of Merseburg or Rome.258 Thus the example
of Radogošč forms the premise that the word urbs or civitas was used by the
chronicler to refer to centres of political and religious life, even in the circle of
the tribal, pre-Christian communities.259
The location of Radogošč is a widely discussed problem and until today
there is no definitive solution on this matter. A very significant premise in this
case is a reference to the description of the central Liutici temple in Adam of
Bremen’s work written half a century later. The author used the name Rethra
to refer to the centre where the temple was located, and he presented topo-
graphic data different from that provided by Thietmar.260 Thus treating Rethra
and Radogošč as one and the same centre is only a hypothesis, although the
most probable solution, and this is why both chroniclers’ accounts were usu-
ally and not accidentally treated jointly as searching for the famous centre of
Liutici cult; altogether they have resulted in nearly twenty different proposals.261
Thietmar’s account shows that the location of the “three-horn town” en-
sured quite well the inviolability of this holy place – it was surrounded by
virgin forest (silva) and lake (mare) waters from all sides.262 The forest is pre-
sented as a place venerated (venerabilis) by local people and also untouched
(intacta). A path leading to the lake, mentioned in the text, can also be a hy-
pothetical premise that allows ascertaining of aquatic cults practiced near
the lake.263 The picture of the forest surrounding Radogošč, outlined by the
chronicler evokes an impression of eeriness, which is only strengthened by
an element of looming terror in a reference to the lake (visu nimis horribile).
Thietmar created a similar atmosphere in his description of the sanctuary of
the Glomače, which allows this emotional element of terror and eeriness to be
recognized as a specific way of presenting the pagan sacrum by this author.264
The three-horn shape of the stronghold and a reference to three gates to
enter this place provokes researchers to speculate on the sacral and symbolic
significance of these topographic details. Nota bene, later Adam of Bremen
described the cult centre of the Redarians differently: he emphasized the ex-
istence of nine gates.265 Roderich Schmidt, discussing the lack of clarity in
Engel, “Der Beitrag der Mediävistik zur Klärung des Rethra – Problems,” Slavia Antiqua
16 (1969), pp. 95–98; Roderich Schmidt, “Rethra. Das Heiligtum der Lutizen als Heiden-
Metropole,” in Festschrift für Walter Schlesinger, vol. 2, ed. Helmut Beumann (Köln/Wien:
Böhlau, 1974), pp. 366 f., 372–380; Lothar Dralle, “Rethra. Zu Bedeutung und Lage des re-
darischen Kultortes,” Jahrbuch für die Geschichte Mittel- und Ostdeutschlands 33 (1984),
pp. 48–61; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 51 ff.; Rainer Szczesiak, “Auf der Suche
nach Rethra! Ein interessantes Kapitel deutscher Forschungsgeschichte,” in Siedlung,
Kommunikation und Wirtschaft im westslawischen Raum: Beiträge der Sektion zur slawisch-
en Frühgeschichte des 5. Deutschen Archäologenkongresses in Frankfurt an der Oder, 4. bis
7. April 2005, ed. Felix Biermann, (Beiträge zur Ur- und Frühgeschichte Mitteleuropas) 46
(Langenweißbach: Beier & Beran, 2007), pp. 313–334.
262 Leszek P. Słupecki, “Wykopaliska słowiańskich świątyń,” Mówią Wieki (1991) 11, p. 34, em-
phasizes that, except for Garz (“Carentia”) in Rügen, all known Slavic temples were under
water (river, sea, lake), which indicates that sanctuaries were formed in such a way that
they would reflect the elements of the universe. The author referred here to M. Eliade’s
studies showing an archetypical, mythical image of the world (imago mundi), in which
gods dwelled on high mountains surrounded by the primordial ocean.
263 Some image of them is given by Thietmar in his earlier account on Glomače, see above p. 57 ff.
264 This spirit of terror is also present in further lines of this description, e.g. Thietmar em-
phasizes such elements as scary looking helmets or wild animals’ horns (beasts). One
should remember that E. Wienecke claimed that the element of terror was a typical sign
of interpretatio Christiana see above, p. 16.
265 In Rethra – Adam II, 21; see below, p. 212 f. Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 713 f., emphasizes
that in the Slavic symbols of numbers, number three and its multiplicity were especially
important, which can be helpful in the interpretation of the sanctuary topography in the
11th c.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 97
this information about Radogošč (identifying it with Rethra), claimed that the
triangular shape of the town did not reflect the real topography of this cult
centre, and it was only a conception by the chronicler who wanted to provide
symbolic sense through spatial arrangement.266 An additional argument sup-
porting such a hypothetical view, in Schmidt’s opinion, is the possibility of
association of the adjective tricornis defining the shape of the city with wild
animals’ horns (Latin cornus, pl. cornua), which – according to Thietmar –
were used as building materials in the construction of the temple there (see
below). For the horn was a symbol of power, ferocity, and anti-sacral forces,267
it in this case would go to the topography in the chronicler’s narrative as a sym-
bolic element: Svarožic’s capital would have “triple” power to oppose a triune
God, just like polytheistic triads (e.g. the trinity form Uppsala known from the
work of Adam of Bremen).268
Due to the ubiquity of the trinity element in shaping sacral and social space
in the lives of Indo-European communities, including Slavic ones, it is hard to
doubt Thietmar’s credibility on the sole basis of symbolic associations related
to the Radogošč urbs.269 This is why R. Schmidt’s argumentation is hardly veri-
fiable. However, somehow incidentally, as a thought experiment,270 it shows
that Thietmar created an image highly prone to symbolic interpretation, which
is a characteristic element of contemporary literary conventions. On one hand
it harmonised the narration by referring to symbolic numbers,271 and on the
other hand this sensitivity to symbols – not only numerical ones – made
the authors emphasize these types of motifs in descriptions, or even build a
266 Schmidt, “Rethra,” pp. 378 ff. The author mentions in his argumentation the rich in sym-
bols description of Rethra presented by Adam of Bremen (see below, pp. 212 ff.), to make
his readers cognizant of the special climate in descriptions of pagan metropolises, how-
ever, one can hardly agree that Thietmar’s account on Radogošč is as “contaminated” with
conventional motifs as Adam of Bremen’s passage about Rethra (see below, pp. 220 f.).
267 Forstner, Świat, pp. 255, 328.
268 Schmidt, “Rethra,” pp. 387 ff. See also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 243 f., and
below, p. 218.
269 Strzelczyk, Rec. Festschrift, p. 202.
270 If such associations come to the mind of a researcher after centuries, one may justifi-
ably assume that similar “more profound” senses were also found in this text by a reader
contemporary to the author, more open to >>symbolic thinking <<, and what is more the
author himself composed the text meaning to evoke such associations as a gate to various
symbolic and allegorical interpretations. This type of reading falls into text interpretation
canons typical for the mentality of that epoch. For more information on the rules of text
interpretation with regard for the classical form of the “four senses” see e.g. Hayes, “A
history of Interpretation,” pp. 27 ff.; Teresa Michałowska, Średniowiecze (Warszawa: PWN,
2006), pp. 18 f.
271 For the symbolic importance of number three see Forstner, Świat, p. 43.
98 Chapter 2
272 Thietmar VI, 23: “In eadem est nil nisi fanum de ligno artificiose compositum, quod pro
basibus diversarum sustentatur cornibus bestiarum”. In reference to the description of
Radogošč it was ascertained that pre-Christian temples erected for the Western Slavs were
built by specialist carpenters, e.g. Witold Hensel, Słowiańszczyzna wczesnośredniowieczna
(Warszawa: PWN, 1987) p. 243.
273 The prevailing opinion is that the wild animals’ horns mentioned by Thietmar are foun-
dation offerings, see Hensel, Słowiańszczyzna wczesnośredniowieczna, p. 520; Szafrański,
Prahistoria, p. 364. Rich material (including illustrations) on foundation offerings in
Silesia has been recently presented by Bogusław Gediga, “Chrystianizacja i utrzymywanie
się przedchrześcijańskich praktyk kultowych na Śląsku,” in Słowiańszczyzna w Europie
średniowiecznej. Księga pamiątkowa dla Lecha Leciejewicza, vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne
państwa, ed. Zofia Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 1996), pp. 159–167. However, there
are also other proposed solutions of this puzzling question: Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
p. 74, who claims that beams were tied with natural hooks made of trimmed branches of
some beams which resembled animal horns. Teresa Kiersnowska, Ryszard Kiersnowski,
Życie codzienne na Pomorzu wczesnośredniowiecznym (Warszawa: PIW, 1970), p. 54, took
into account both branched logs and foundation offerings.
274 Such interpretation is supported by an analogy in folk magic observation, in which ani-
mal heads had apotropaic significance, Jerzy Dowiat, “Pogląd na świat,” in Kultura Polski
średniowiecznej X–XIII w., ed. Jerzy Dowiat (Warszawa: PIW, 1985), p. 180.
275 Thus Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 299), apposed this detail with a tradi-
tional story about a witch living in a “chicken-legged hut”.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 99
276 This supposed amplification could respond, for instance, some bones being in fact re-
mains of animal sacrifices, especially skulls with horns. Same archaeological analogies
that could support this interpretation have been found in Scandinavia, for instance, at
Borg in Östergötland, where a small house interpreted as a cultic building was discov-
ered, and a lot of bones (75 kilos) around it (see: Ann-Lili Nielsen, “Rituals and power.
About small buildings and animal bones from late Iron Age,” in Old Norse Religion in Long-
Term Perspectives: Origins, Changes, and Interactions: an international conference in Lund,
Sweden, June 3–7, 2004, ed. Anders Andrén, Kristina Jennbert, Catharina Raudvere (Lund:
Nordic Academic Press, 2006), pp. 243–247).
277 Słupecki, Archaeological Sources, p. 340.
278 A certain analogy in this case is Prove’s holy grove in the Wagrians land described by
Helmold, where also judgments were made. Holy oaks dedicated to the deity were sur-
rounded by a palisade and the holy grove was located in the forest, see below, pp. 332 f.
279 Thietmar VI, 23: “Huius parietes variae deorum dearumque imagines mirifice insculptae,
ut cernentibus videtur, exterius ornant.”
280 H erbordi Dialogus de Vita S. Ottonis Episcopi Babenbergensis, ed. Kazimierz Liman,
Jan Wikarjak, MPH n.s. 7/3 (1974) [further: Herbord], II, 32; Saxo Grammaticus, Gesta
Danorum / The History of the Danes, ed. Karsten Friis-Jensen, trans. Peter Fisher, vol. 1–2
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 2015) [further: Saxo], XIV, 39, 2.
100 Chapter 2
On the basis of these accounts, a thesis was formed that a special style was
developed in the construction of Slavic temples, their characteristic feature
being wall reliefs.281 However, on the basis of available sources, the incidence
of this style should be restricted to the Polabian and Pomeranian area, and
one should also take into account a more extensive, non-Slavic cultural con-
text influencing its formation, taking especially into account Scandinavian in-
filtration. The way such effigies looked is potentially shown in the older cultic
buildings discovered in Gross Raden, in which the walls were made up of rows
of decorated, anthropomorphic pillars with heads.282
Placing the above mentioned effigies on external walls of temples raised
doubts among some scholars about whether they showed images of gods.283
However, one can speculate that they illustrated mythical content284 by com-
bining earthly and supernatural creatures in one vision.285 In such a case
Thietmar could generally consider this iconography as images of gods and
goddesses,286 but on the other hand it is worth not conceding his credibility
without these types of speculations and additions. Effigies of idols, which were
figure 1 Reconstruction of the Slavonic temple from Gross Raden (11th c.)
Stanisław Rosik
the main hierophany (or one of them) for a given community, could have been
made after all, which will be explained later in more detail.
Thietmar claims that in the temple “stand gods, made by hand, with their
names carved, frighteningly dressed in helmets and armours. Among them the
first one is named Svarožic who is worshipped above others by all the pagans.”287
The context of this statement convincingly demonstrates that he meant the
idol called Svarožic, which was the prominent figure among the all other idols.
Most certainly their military equipment was real, not sculpted.288 Placing
numerous figures inside the temple is not confirmed in other sources on the
Slavic religion, apart from maybe Adam of Bremen who also wrote about the
central temple of the Liutici.289 On the other hand a certain analogy can be
287 Thietmar VI, 23: “dii stant manu facti, singulis nominibus insculptis, galeis atque loricis
terribiliter vestiti, quorum primus Zuarasici dicitur et pre caeteris a cunctis gentilibus
honoratur et colitur”.
288 For comparison there are Scandinavian statues which were dressed in apparels and jewel-
lery, which was emphasized by Słupecki, “Słowiańskie posągi,” p. 64.
289 Adam II, 21. Discussion and possible doubts on the existence of numerous statues in
Rethra described by Adam of Bremen, see below, pp. 217 f.
102 Chapter 2
found in Rus’: in Nestor’s chronicle there is information that in Kiev there were
statutes of the Rus’ pantheon, including Perun.290
Describing the statues inside the temple as “hand-made gods” – dii manu
facti, and locating the outside images of gods and goddesses – deorum
dearumque imagines, begs the question of how the chronicler viewed the
Slavic images of deities. Did he try to emphasize differences in the way they
were treated by pagans by using these two different terms? How in this context
should one refer to the terms deus and dea referring to divine images taken by
the Liutici for the war?291
The expression (dii) manu facti refers also to the biblical texts of both the
Old and the New Testament. A classical example of the use of this phrase is
Psalm 115 (Vulgate: 113).292 However, in the discussion on Thietmar’s informa-
tion on making images of gods and goddesses (deorum dearumque imagines),
it is worth also recalling an episode described in the Acts of the Apostles about
protests against St. Paul in Ephesus, initiated by a certain Demetrius in de-
fence of the local Artemis cult. He manufactures little temples used as amulets
and complained that the Apostle “avertit multam turbam dicens quoniam non
sunt dii, qui manibus fiunt [emphasis – S.R.].” The commotion was deesca-
lated by a state official who said: “Viri Ephesii, quis enim est hominum, qui
nesciat Ephesiorum civitatem cultricem esse magne Dianae et simulacri a Iove
delapsi.”293
These last words lead to the conclusion that the famous statue was the
embodiment of the goddess herself for her worshippers, a specific material-
ized “here and now” miraculous phenomenon. Hence its images were made.
Identification of a deity with its image took place in a particular cult centre
and was related to a particular object, which constituted hierophany. Thus
Thietmar, who had been surrounded by biblical images since his childhood,
had a ready view on the subject of not only theological interpretation of idols,
but also how they were viewed by idolaters themselves (certainly this opinion
is taken from the New Testament and so it is an exemplification of interpretatio
290
P VL, under the year 6488 [980].
291 E.g. Thietmar VI, 22.
292 Ps 115:4 (Vulgate: Ps 113:12): “simulacra gentium (…) opera manuum hominum” (accord-
ing to Septuaginta) or “idola gentium (…) opus manuum hominum” (according to the
Hebrew Bible). See also in Vulgate: Ba 6:50–51: “… quia non sunt dii sed opera manum
hominum” (this chapter in the tradition was called also Epistula Jeremiae).
293 Act 19:26 and 35 (http://www.vatican.va/archive/bible/nova_vulgata/documents/nova
-vulgata_nt_actus-apostolorum_lt.html). Quoting this story in its Latin version on the
basis of the Vulgate, allows a closer look at Thietmar’s mentality. A striking element is the
interpretatio Romana of the Old Greek religion visible in the Vulgate, e.g. Artemis became
Diane.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 103
biblica of the idol cult in ancient times). Although it is impossible to prove that
it was exactly this episode in the New Testament that inspired the description
of the temple in Radogošč, it is important to invoke it as an analogy in the per-
ception of the pagan sacrum.
In Thietmar’s chronicle perspective, pagans worship particular, material
embodiments of divinity294 and not only idols; in a similar way they vener-
ate elements of the landscape, such as mountains (mons in pagus Silensi) or
a grove (lucus Zutibure).295 This opinion of the chronicler could have been to
some extent inspired by his knowledge of his contemporary Slavic cults. One
should also take into account the mentality of these tribal communities mani-
fested in their attitude toward cult objects found in temples and worshipped
elements of the natural world, i.e. treating them as personifications of divine
powers and creatures. An analogy in this case is readily formed by observing
the duration of such structure of thought in the later Slavic folklore.296
Coming back to Thietmar’s narrative, as a synonym for “dii manu facti” one
should recognize the term idola, which was used in the above discussed pas-
sage on the Slavic rebellion (983) in reference to the canon defining the es-
sence of the pagan cult as creaturam anteponere creatori, which is present in
the Bible. In this theological judgement one should see the main inspiration
for reducing pagan gods to hand-made objects. However, this way of thinking
did not exclude the chronicler’s references to religious images of the Liutici
themselves: or to the examples similar to the discussed episode from the Acts
of the Apostles, or to the Liutici myths treated analogically with ancient my-
thology. Both proposed variants correspond well with the expression imag-
ines deorum dearumque, with reference to sculptures on the external walls of
the temple.
Thus it is not surprising that in Thietmar’s work there were also particular
functions of pagan deities, such as dii fautores,297 for which biblical analogies
can also be drawn.298 However, in this respect the reference to ancient mythol-
ogies that confirmed expressis verbis in the chronicle was equally important.299
300 The information about inscriptions is very suspicious for Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
p. 65; Kiersnowska, Kiersnowski, Życie codzienne, p. 54, also doubt their existence. A gen-
eral statement on following church models was made by Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 193. A
possibility of such borrowings was accepted also by Słupecki, “Einflüsse,” pp. 180 f., who
made a reservation, however, that the very idea of the temple among the Slavs was formed
on a native basis.
301 Słupecki, “Einflüsse,” pp. 178 f., made a supposition that the Slavs became familiar with
scripture during the first Christianization and after the pagan reaction used this skill to
name statues. Earlier Dralle, “Rethra,” p. 42 f., claimed that inscriptions were made in the
Old Slavic alphabet due to Czech influences in Polabia – cf. Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Tysiąclecie
powstania Słowian połabskich 983–1983. Naukowe rezultaty jubileuszu,” Studia Historica
Slavo-Germanica 14 (1988), p. 258.
302 See e.g. Ps 96:37 (Vulgate: Ps 95:37); cf. 1 Cor 10:20.
303 E pistola Brunonis ad Henricum regem, see below, pp. 107 f.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 105
demonum).304 However, in this case one should take into account that he ei-
ther shared Bruno’s view treating deities as devils (see below), or he did not go
so far in this identification and only mentioned that actually the pagan cult
was dedicated to demons, since he was convinced that gods were only a cre-
ation of the deceived human mind.305
The last sentence connected with the interior decoration of the temple pro-
vides information about the gods’ war banners (so called stanice) placed there
and carried by infantry during war expeditions: “Their banners are never re-
moved from here, unless they are needed for an expedition – in such case foot-
soldiers carry them.”306 There was also a widely held view that Thietmar, in
other places of his chronicle when presenting the war theatre, calls them gods
and goddesses. However, it is not possible to exclude that not only banners,
but also other cult statues, were taken to war expeditions. In descriptions of
Liutici expeditions the term deus or dea refers to an idol, a worshipped object,307
but due to a very special literary convention another semantic aspect is also
evident.
The chronicler showed predilection to present sacrum objects as mystical
items that occurred on the historical stage. It is perfectly visible in his creativ-
ity in the way he treated cathedral churches as “Christ’s bride” (sponsa Christi),
thus having the building embody or even personify this mystic being which is
the Church community in ecclesiological reflection, presented as a bride dedi-
cated to Christ.308 In this line of reasoning, the earthly, material reality and the
304 In the notions of Christianity there is an organic relation between an idol and demons,
see below (p. 219), however, here one should emphasize that Thietmar knew the etymol-
ogy of the ‘demon’ written by Isidore of Seville (Thietmar I, 24) and the context of his
work shows that he does not restrict the activity of fallen spiritual creatures only to the
pagan cult. Thus the expression simulachra demonum indicates a strictly theological cat-
egory, not referring directly to Slavic beliefs.
305 1 Cor 10:20 can be interpreted in the same way.
306 Thietmar VI, 23: “Vexilla quoque eorum, nisi ad expeditionis necessaria, et tunc per
pedites, hinc nullatenus moventur.”
307 Ps 96:5 (Vulgate according to Septuaginta Ps 95:5): “dii gentium daemonia”.
308 When mentioning the consecration of these buildings, Thietmar speaks directly about
the consecration of “the bride of Christ” by the hands of the bishops gathered there (e.g.
Thietmar VI, 60: “Peracta in civitate Bavenbergensi aecclesia maiore, cum natalicius regis
dies esset [et XXXV. iam inciperet annus], II. Non. Mai omnis primatus ad dedicationem
istius aulae ibidem congregatur; et sponsa haec Christi per manus [Iohannis patriarchae
de Aquileia et aliorum plus quam XXX episcoporum] consecratur”; cf. trans. D.A. Warner
in: Ottonian Germany, p. 278, VI, 60: “When the cathedral in the city of Bamberg had been
completed, all the leading men of the realm gathered there on 6 May, the king’s thirty-
fifth birthday, to participate in its consecration. Patriarch John of Aquileia and more than
thirty other bishops undertook the consecration of this bride of Christ”). The image of the
106 Chapter 2
spiritual reality are immanently connected with a particular place and mate-
rial condition.309
On the historical stage created by Thietmar, the Liutici “gods” function in an
analogous way. Their “unutterable fury” (ineffabilis furor) is calmed by offer-
ings made to them.310 They also lead the Liutici army, thus personifying antisa-
cral powers adverse to Christ’s kingdom. In Svarožic’s image and the other “dii
manu facti” surrounding it in the Radogošč temple, one can find similarities
to a vision well known from the New Testament presenting Satan leading a
community of demons. However, this is not an undisputable basis for the view
that this biblical archetype was imprinted on the chronicler’s description in
the shape of the topical demons’ princeps,311 which is worth considering in a
wider context of research on the religion of the Slavs.
mystic wedding of God and the community of his people (as his bride) finds its model in
the Old Testament and becomes the basic idea for the Song of Songs.
309 For more information on this matter, see S. Rosik, “Sponsae Christi oraz dii manu facti
w Kronice Thietmara. Elementy konwencji dziejopisarskiej w służbie historiologii,” in
Viae historicae. Księga jubileuszowa dedykowana Profesorowi Lechowi A. Tyszkiewiczowi
w siedemdziesiątą rocznicę urodzin, ed. Mateusz Goliński, Stanisław Rosik, (Acta
Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia) 152 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu
Wrocławskiego, 2001), pp. 415–421.
310 Thietmar VI, 25.
311 See Mt 12, 24; Mk 3:22; Lk 11:15; Adam of Bremen expressis verbis referred to this New
Testament image in the description of Rethra, see below, p. 253.
312 Thietmar VI, 23: “… quorum primus Zuarasici dicitur et pre caeteris [diis – S.R.] a cunctis
gentilibus honoratur et colitur”.
313 In the other 11th and 12th c. descriptions of Slavic temples in the Polabia and Pomerania
area, usually the presence of only one idol in them was emphasized (Rethra, Szczecin,
Arkona – see below, pp. 217, 338, 357 ff.), however, it is impossible to completely exclude
that there were not more of them, especially if one takes into account smaller, portable
idols, whose existence was confirmed in the hagiography of St. Otto of Bamberg (see: Ebo
II, 13; III, 1. Cf. Rosik, Conversio, pp. 290 ff., 355 f.).
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 107
pantheon, had his throne located in the middle of the temple.314 Similarly, in
“Carentia” (probably Garz) in Rügen, according to Saxo Grammaticus, at the
time of the Danish invasion of the island there was a cult facility dedicated to
the triad of deities led by Rugievit, but their statues were not located under one
roof.315 Another model of sanctuary spatial organization, referring to a larger
group of idols, was proposed on the basis of archaeological exploration of sup-
posed open cult places in the eastern Slavdom: a statue of the major deity was
presumably surrounded by a circle of images of more or less significant figures
in the pantheon.316
On the basis of the discussed information it is hard to define the reach of
Svarožic’s cult precisely. Taking into account the fact that the description refers
to this particular sanctuary, the phrase “all pagans” (cuncti gentiles317) should
apply mainly to the Liutici, although one should also take into account their
neighbours, respecting their political influences and the authority of the or-
acle in Radogošč.318 This assessment remains in agreement with the Letter of
Bruno of Querfurt to King Henry II, which was most probably319 written not
more than a decade earlier and in which Svarožic was presented as a personi-
fication of the devil leading the Liutici. At that time the German ruler had an
alliance against Poland with these tribes, and the famous missionary in his let-
ter criticized this alliance.320 An adequate passage in this epistolography gives
an excellent example of Christian interpretation of paganism, developed with
reference to the antithetical relationship between Christ and Belial, known al-
ready from the Second Epistle of St. Paul to the Corinthians:
“What is the agreement of Christ and Belial? What is the comparison of light
and darkness? How is it possible for the devil Svarožic to meet the prince of the
holy, yours and ours, St. Maurice? How can the holy lance and diabolic banners
that feast on human blood touch their foreheads?”321 Thus in theological and
moral categories, Bruno evaluated political activity of the German king, and
in the cascade of antitheses there is a striking hierarchy of entities in which
Svarožic, as a personification of the devil, turned out to be subject to Belial.
In relation to this ruler of darkness, the Liutici god was somewhat analogous
St. Maurice, the leader of saints and the Christian community in the empire
circle (defined by Bruno as “vester et noster”), in terms of his relation to Christ.
Hence it is not accidental that the last tier of the antithesis is determined by
symbols of power playing a special role in the context of war expeditions: the
Holy Lance (of St. Maurice) and blood-thirsty, devilish signs, Liutici banners.
In this way the spiritual confrontation dimension taking place “here and now,”
in the theatre of a particular war, was emphasized.
Similarly Thietmar, after completing the excurse about Radogošč, stresses
that the forces of the Liutici and the Empire set off against Poland had leaders
who were “unequal” or “differing from each other” (“inparibus ducis”), which
most certainly was a reference to war emblems carried in front of the allied
armies, i.e. idols and the Holy Lance. However, there is doubts about the inter-
pretation of Svarožic’s character and status, and whether the chronicler shared
this view, according to which he belonged to the same rank as devils serving
Belial. He presented Svarožic as the first among gods (deities) whose cult was,
in his opinion, a false alternative to Christ’s religion.
In the world of the Bible known to him from reading, prophets and apostles
struggled with polytheistic cults that had one major god (e.g. Baal, Ephesian
Artemis). In biblical interpretation of these creatures, mythological motifs
related to them are of minor significance, and the main message is the con-
frontation of their cult with monotheism. Particular polytheistic religious sys-
tems, in this perspective, are outlined as subsequent historical manifestations
of evil spiritual powers, which supports a trend to assume that pagan deities
are personifications of demons. A model image of this sphere of antisacrum
326 War attributes were usually assigned to deities of seaside Slavic tribes, e.g. Svantevit,
Rugievit or Iarovit – see e.g. Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,” p. 108; Strzelczyk, Mity,
pp. 84, 174, 209; Rosik, Conversio, pp. 419 ff. Indirect information about the character of
the Liutici god could be included in a comparison made in the letter of Bruno to Henry II:
Christ – Belial and devil Svarožic – St. Maurice. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 170, claimed that
the fact that the Radogošč god was in opposition to the patron saint of chivalry was the
basis to conclude he had war competences. It is worth adding here that on the basis
of this passage in the letter of Bruno a Slavic pseudo-deity called Belial was born (see:
Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 187), which offers some explanation as to how far it was
possible not to take into account the Christian interpretation during the research on
Slavic beliefs.
327 It was reconstructed, let us remember, on the basis of the lection: Zuarasizi (Thietmar VI,
23) and Zuarasiz in the letter of Bruno to Henry II (as in 321 in this chapter).
328 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 44, questioned accuracy of the identification of
Svarog with Hephaestus occurring in PVL (cf. Moszyński, Kultura, p. 504), but it was only
the beginning of the debate, see under footnotes 330, 337 in this chapter.
329 The name Dazbog was explained as ‘god the giver’ by F. Miklosich as early as the 19th c.,
see Leszek Moszyński, “Prasłowiański panteon w słowniku etymologicznym i Lexiconie
Franciszka Miklosicha,” Studia z Filologii Polskiej i Słowiańskiej 31 (1993), p. 165, and also by
Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 180; Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 41 f., 160–162, 173;
Boris A. Rybakov, Jazyčestvo drevnej Rusi (Moskva: Nauka, 1987), p. 440. See also Strzelczyk,
Mity, pp. 198 f.
330 P VL, under the year 6622 [1114]. This information was accepted without reservations
by e.g. Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 220–223, who considered it interpretatio slava
of Egyptian gods: Svarog-Feost, i.e. Hephaestus, who in John Malalas’s Greek origi-
nal was euhemeristically presented as one of the first Egyptian kings. Even Brückner,
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 111
an attempt to show that initially the all-Slavic, in his opinion, cult of Svarog
was not known in Rus’ at the time of Christianization, and the discussed infor-
mation (also referring to Dazbog) in fact was to apply only to the mythology of
southern Slavdom. However, the arguments for this conclusion are based on
excessively unstable ground.
The basis for Łowmiański’s argument331 is a conviction that the glosses in
PVL – about this deity were interpolations in the Slavic translation (from the
10th–11th c.) of John Malalas’s chronicle, taken over to PVL (under the year
1114) in the third redaction (according to Shachmatov from 1118). The argu-
ment is formed in the following points: 1) Rus’ sources do not know Svarog
apart from a borrowing from Malalas’s work, which is surprising given a rather
large number of sources; similarly, Dazbog appears in them only twice: in PVL
and “The Tale of Igor’s Campaign” (however, here probably it is also literary
genesis); 2) Rus’ sermons do remain silent on the matter of these deities (the
name “Svarožic” in Rus’ sermons refers only to fire); 3) Rus’ historiography from
the 12th–13th c. does not know names of deities taken from colloquial lan-
guage; 4) the environment in which the identification of Svarog and Dazbog
with Hephaestus and Helios occurred in glosses to John Malalas’s work must
have known these Slavic deities, their origin and abilities. Meanwhile in Rus’
around 1118 (when the third edition of PVL was completed) the name Svarog
was considered strange since an additional gloss was written by the author of
the Rus’ chronicle to the already existing glosses in the Slavic translation of
John Malalas’s work, which included information that Svarog was a name used
by Egyptians. In another place he even added that penalties established by
Feost (Hephaestus) influenced the decision of giving him the name “Svarog.”
Hence in Rus’, Svarog was considered an Egyptian deity, which is why it could
Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 49, proposed to see the Sun in Svarožic (i.e. little Svarog),
considered – as Svarog’s son – Dazbog, assuming at the same time that somewhere else he
was called Triglav, Svantevit or Iarovit. Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 98 f. expressed, however,
views opposing those of A. Brückner, who connected Svarog with great fire and Svarožic
with small fire, Łowmiański asked rhetorically: what fire does Sun originate from, since
it is the biggest one? Thus Hephaestus, in a gloss would be identified with Svarog not
because he meant fire, and because he was blacksmith, but because he was Dazbog-sun’s
father. Hence, according to H. Łowmiański, the author of the gloss knew that Dazbog
was Svarog’s son, and this is why, without hesitation, he called Hephaestus Svarog as he
was Helios’s father. Malalas, being Syrian, probably knew the Egyptian version of the
myth of Hephaestus (Ptah) as Helios’s father, and even this version – in the hypothesis of
H. Łowmiański – was connected with the Slavic mythology by the author of the glosses to
Malalas’s work; in this concept the glosses were introduced to it in the Bulgarian environ-
ment (for the discussion related to this see below, footnote 332 in this chapter).
331 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 92–96.
112 Chapter 2
be concluded that Slavic mythological glosses must have found their way into
John Malalas’s chronicle, not in Rus’, but at the stage of working on a transla-
tion of this chronicle in Bulgaria (and this environment was the place where
Feost was identified as Svarog – without Egyptian references); 5) moreover the
Bulgarian origin of the glosses is supported by the fact that Dazbog was called
“Svarog’s son” in them and not Svarožic. Dazbog – as Svarog’s son – should be
called “Svarožic” in the whole of the northern Slavdom, but not among the
Bulgarians, because in Bulgaria the suffix -*itjo when creating a patronimicum
was forgotten; Jakobson’s argument that in Rus’ there was a custom to call a
person according to their father’s name should be rejected here because this
custom came later, and in the 10th–12th c. was only the patronimicum created;
6) the last argument against the Rus’ provenance of the gloss is the fact that in
an earlier – by half a century – version of PVL, Nikon did not mention Svarog
when presenting Vladimir’s pantheon encompassing mainly Rus’ deities, thus
as early as the mid-11th c. this deity was not remembered in Kiev, which gives
authorization to delete it from the East Slavic pantheon.
Although the conviction – that a Slavic translation of Joannes Malalas’s
chronicle created in Bulgaria existed – adopted as the starting point for this ar-
gumentation was based on a wider discussion among scholars, it turned out to
be only speculation, and thus further argumentation on its basis understand-
ably leads to controversies.332 Regardless, it is worth undertaking a detailed
polemic with H. Łowmiański’s view not only because of the implausibility of
his claims, but also because the arguments based on it enter the realm of re-
flection on source studies and encompass proposals of definitions of thought
that condition the creation of accounts about Slavic religion. This is critical in
the discussion of its interpretation. The order of the polemic refers to the order
of the H. Łowmiański’s thesis:
1) the literary genesis of the appearance of Dazbog in Rus’ sources is only
an allegation, and to build further conclusions based on it is extremely risky;
2) Rus’ sermons raised the problem of worshipping demons during the time
of Christianization, and the cult of higher deities at the time of the so-called
dual-faith could be losing its strength, this is why: 3) Svarog did not have to be
present at all in colloquial language any more, and the similarity of his name
to fire-‘Svarožic’ is a double-edged argument: calling fire ‘Svarožic’ could be a
relic of an earlier cult addressed to a god; 4) recognising Svarog as an Egyptian
god could indicate that at the time of Christianization the native cult and my-
thology in Rus’ became an element of a new narration in the culture related to
of Dazbog with Helios does not,338 and this solar mythological explication
is used in attempts to define Svarog’s real place in the Slavic pantheon –
as indentified with the mysterious “god of gods,”339 but with doubts340 – and
to justify Svarožic being treated as Dazbog’s counterpart, or even identified
with him. Accepting this solution means questioning the thesis, supported by
erudition of the translator of this passage of Malalas’s work. At the same time A. Gieysztor
thought that in this case it was not very probable that the Baltic myth about a blacksmith
forging the sun had any influence. Similarly Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 98 f., questioned the
sense of taking into account a reference to the Lithuanian myth about a blacksmith who
forged the sun in the analysis of the information discussed here, claiming that this motif
was a Finnish borrowing and was neither known in Slavic nor in Greek mythology.
338 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 33. See also A. Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 175, 179.
See also above footnote 330 in this chapter.
339 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 98 f. put forward his own concept of the development of Slavic
beliefs: Svarožic’s father was Svarog-sky representing an element of the Indo-European
so-called prototheism. In the 11th c. Svarog was forgotten in the eastern Slavdom, and
only Svarožic was worshipped, or more precisely three Svarožics: fire, Dazbog-Sun, moon.
Łowmiański doubted if the south Slavic pantheon had more than three gods, because
fire-Svarožic in Rus’ was not the proper anthropomorphic god, he was a deified element
similar to Hephaestus, before he turned into a divine blacksmith. The same referred to
Dazbog and the moon, they could be deified celestial bodies. If Dazbog turned out to be
an anthropomorphic deity, it would be the only trace of prototheism transformed into
polytheism. According to Łowmiański, Svarog (and in other places Perun) are two differ-
ent transformations of the original Indo-European deity of the sky. Hence Svarog would
be identical with Helmold’s (I, 84) “god of gods” (see below, p. 348).
340 Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 171–175, only partly shared position discussed here. In his po-
lemic with Łowmiański, Gieysztor emphasized that the existence of Svarog and his son
was proof that theogonic thought existed among the Slavs, although it is ignored by schol-
ars representing naturistic primitivisation of their beliefs (e.g. postulating e.g. equating
Svarožic with fire and Dazbog with the sun, taking into account the needs of the agrarian
society as background of this phenomenon). According to Gieysztor, the cult of nature
expresses human experience in searching for connections between the macrocosm and
the microcosm (i.e. a human being), while in beliefs myth is projected on nature. The
scholar found comparative material in the triple concept of fire in the Vedas referring to
three functions: earthly, atmospheric (thunder) and heavenly (sun); he found an analo-
gous division in the Roman religion. Gieysztor emphasized, however, that in the case of
Indo-European mythologies, it does not seem that the Sun replaced a sovereign deity – it
was more of the eye of the sky or the eye of the sovereigns of the world, Mitra and Varuna.
However, if in Rus’ there was a view that Svarog was Dazbog’s father and Svarožic was fire,
then firstly they – i.e. Dazbog and Svarožic – are identical, secondly their father is the fire
of a higher order, i.e. the Sun. Hence Svarog is not the god of the sky at all, he is a deity
so distinguished and close to the sovereigns of sky that sometimes he could even cover
them. Then, however, Svarog would not be the “god of gods” (according to Helmold I, 84).
However, it is not easy to agree with the last statement – see below, pp. 347 f.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 115
341 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, pp. 338 f. Brückner assumed that the author of
the gloss consciously chose for the name “the son of Svarogs” for Dazbog, because ex-
actly Svarožic was Svarog. Cf. Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 240, 503; Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza,
p. 223; Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 107, 180, 191.
342 Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 171, claimed that in the case of the name Svarožic: patronym or a
diminutive, the question should be solved with a comparative analysis which indicates a
filial relation.
343 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 27, 106; Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 171. Ibidem, pp. 175 f., here
referring to Ibn Rosteh and Al Gardezi testimonies on the matter of common worship of
fire among the Slavs; see also Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 199.
344 Wienecke, Untersuchungen, pp. 261 f. claimed that Svarožic came to Radogošč from Rus’.
Earlier Jagić assumed the opposite direction of this borrowing; cf. Brückner, Mitologia
słowiańska i polska, p. 114; Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 221.
345 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 27 f., 192.
346 Fundamental shaping of positions on this matter took place in the 70’s and 80’s of the
20th c., which is well depicted in a comparison of synthetic studies by H. Łowmiański
(Religia) and as an alternative A. Gieysztor (Mitologia), whose theses were referred to by
Andrzej Szyjewski, Religia Słowian (Kraków: WAM, 2003). See earlier, pp. 19–28.
347 For more information on this matter see pp. 174 f.
116 Chapter 2
by the Sclavenes and Antes.348 The existence of the other Slavic deities men-
tioned in the earliest sources, especially in relation to Rus’, in the case of these
research positions is treated with great caution. An essential element for the
skeptical arguments on this matter turns out to be a reference to interpreta-
tions of paganism in the culture (especially literary culture) of the Christian
circle, which is clearly depicted by Leszek Moszyński’s reflections on the Tale of
Bygone Years (PVL) passage in his dissertation on pre-Christian religion of the
Slavs, written more than twenty years ago.349
Moszyński emphasized that this place in the chronicle refers to a mytho-
logical episode (from Homer’s poetry), in which Helios discovered Aphrodite’s
unfaithfulness, and the motif was recalled as an apology of monogamy.
According to a procedure known from translations of the Bible (e.g. that of
St. Hieronymus’s), the translator introduced native names instead of antique
theonims. Hephaestus – as the one “called God by the Egyptians” – was iden-
tified with Svarog, whose existence did not raise any doubts according to
Moszyński. However, the same author treated the origin of Dazbog in quite a
different way, and he considered his name not to be a theonim but a wrongly
read greeting in the Christian environment (dadjь Bogь!). Such a way of think-
ing strictly corresponds with the fundamental thesis of the dissertation, which
refuses to admit the presence of Pre-Slavic and Slavic polytheism and mythol-
ogy on the threshold of the Middle Ages. The only Slavic god was to be called
Svarog or Perun and was to be a transfiguration of the original and the only
sovereign of heavens (*svętь Bogь), and was to associate with Hephaestus not
as a specific theonim but appellatively as a general symbol of the god. On the
other hand, the occurrence of the erroneous identification of Dazbog – in this
concept of a pseudo-deity – with Helios, should be explained in this way of
thinking by the absence of other higher supernatural creatures worshipped by
pre-Christian inhabitants of Rus’.
The most significant aspect of justification for this refutation of the exis-
tence of mythology and a pantheon of the early Slavs is an assumption that in
the assessment of the development of their spiritual culture, antique images
of the sacrum, including anthropomorphization, were the norm.350 However,
in the case of investigations related to “barbarian” communities, such restric-
tions of the research questionnaire raise doubts. Firstly, cults were always
356 An attempt of systematising this material dispersed in various traditions was undertaken
by Szyjewski, Religia, pp. 101 f., for more information see p. 119.
357 Nota bene, W. Szafrański observed that if one assumes that the “religious system was an
obvious reflection of social and economic reality, then this reconstructed myth about
the divine blacksmith, who forged the sun, offers an excellent example of a projection
of relation in the human environment onto the heavenly sphere in a situation when on
the threshold of statehood, the well known is the well exposed role of rich blacksmiths
usurping secular and religious power” (see W. Szafrański, Religie światowe i religie Słowian,
(Religioznawstwo) 3 (Warszawa: Wyższa Szkoła Nauk Społecznych, 1983) p. 28; cf. idem,
Prahistoria, pp. 14 f.). However, does the role of blacksmiths, in the case of the Rus’ gloss,
reflect “real” historical processes, or is it only a cultural (or literary) fact explaining mythi-
cal origins, this is impossible to decide on the basis of analysis of the PVL text. On the
other hand, it is worth taking into account the connection between fiery Svarog and
blacksmithing. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 103, emphasized that in the Iron Age there was a
transformation of a deity rolling stone thunders at the mythical blacksmith, known also
in Slavic folklore; in the etymology of *kovati (forge) one can hear an Old Iranian black-
smithing deity Kave, and also Baltic Perkun’s alternate name Akmenis Kalvis means stone
blacksmith. Also Svarog’s name can be associated with forging together red-hot iron. See
also Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 221 f.
358 It is sufficient to assume that the divine name originating from a greeting (see above) was
the effect of tabooisation of the original theonim.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 119
359 Moszyński, Kultura, p. 504; Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 221; Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
pp. 29, 191. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 172, complete these etymologies with V. Machek’s refer-
ence to an Indian nickname of Indra – svaraj. Cf. Strzelczyk, Mity, podania, p. 199.
360 Exactly Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 177 f., claims after Jakobson that the name of the bird
with glowing eyes among the Balts and Slavs: ‘raróg’, ‘raroh’, ‘raragas’ can be a taboo of the
name of Svarog, which is supported by an analogous structure of the word; another indi-
cation in the matter, according to A. Gieysztor, is a mythical motif, in which Indra turns
into a falcon in a fight with Vritra.
361 V. Pisani’s view was critically presented by Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 171 f., 190.
Moreover, in the description of Radogošč, Thietmar means animal horns in the founda-
tion of the temple. This concept can result from inspiration derived from the “horn” motif
sounding in the name Svarožic. An association between the shape of this architectural
detail and horns could be the chronicler’s licenctia poetica, as he knew the Slavic language
(it is hard to assess how well); another possibility is that it was a Liutici invention in the
building of the temple, taking into account symbolical associations evoked by the name
of their deity. However, all these thoughts are only unverified speculations.
362 It is confirmed in Rus’ by The Word of Christolubec (14th c.) – Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
pp. 27, 150 f.; Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 199. The direction of this fiery interpretation of Svarog
was determined as early as the 19th c. by Pavol Jozef Šafárik followed by Franz Miklosich
(see Moszyński, Prasłowiański panteon, p. 170).
363 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 338.
364 Moszyński, Kultura, p. 505, emphasizes analogies to Zeus maimaktes – irascible, outraged;
cf. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 29.
120 Chapter 2
of iron,” i.e. ‘zwarzyć’ (while ‘-og’ is a suffix meaning a person who does this
activity).365
In the research of the religious practices of the Early Slavs, all these associa-
tions or etymologies are of some value. It is not a matter of artificial attempts
to attribute to one mythical character all activities and attributes associated
with a term used to denote him, but putting emphasis on the significance of
a symbolic, and thus myth-creating character of divine names. By way of as-
sociation they could be a carrier of many, although not necessarily original,
senses. However, from the perspective of theogonic research on the Svarog–
Svarožic line, the most significant question is exactly related to the earliest
connotations of both theonims, in which the motif of heavenly light and fire
is so strong.
This situation brings about an analogy to Greek mythology in which origi-
nation of fiery Hephaestus from heavenly Zeus is also expressed in the filial
relation,366 however the analogy does not refer to the meaning in cult; Svarožic
is outlined as the major deity worshipped by the Liutici, hence in this context
he would replace the heavenly sovereign. Therefore it is not accidental that in
the discussion on this matter there arises a model perspective of the Slavic the-
ology, coined by Helmold (I, 84), who presented an image of a heavenly “god of
gods,” controlling only heavenly matters, while the earthly ones are entrusted
to other gods, his blood relatives. Moreover, their significance was to depend
on how closely they were related to him and thus by what share they represent
his divinity.
In this light Svarožic can be regarded as an emanation of Svarog, and the
closeness in origin as indicated by the relation between their names explains
well his rank in the Radogošč pantheon. In fact, this Liutici god would be only
one of these kinds of emanations of heavenly light and fire (Svarog) in Slavdom,
and being hierophanies, they would usually assume a particular shape like
the sun or fire located in various places (even in a cereal drying chamber367).
These emanations, frequently strictly connected with a particular dimension
of human existences, were closer to people than the heavenly source of their
origin,368 which did not disappear from mythologies but lost its priority in cult.
365 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 191 f. It is worth remembering that Brückner, Mitologia
słowiańska i polska, p. 44, rejected “zwarzanie” (forging) of ore (by a blacksmith) and also
Indian “Svarga” – “heaven” as an indication in the etymology of the name Svarožic.
366 Moszyński, Kultura, p. 505.
367 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 191.
368 This can be proven by such local names Swarożyn, Swaroszyn, Swarzędz, although
they could have derived directly from ‘swarzyć’ (bicker) without any sacral context, see
Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 192. On the other hand Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 172, where
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 121
In the case of the Liutici, the domination of Svarožic in the pantheon, clear
in the light of written sources, bears hallmarks of henotheism. Thus the ques-
tion arises of whether the tendency for such dominance in the sphere of the
sacrum by one deity in the pantheon was the result of changes in the Slavic
religion at the time of stronger confrontation with Christianity, and in conse-
quence an attempt to strengthen the native religion through reconstruction
of mythology following the example of monotheism. Alternatively, perhaps
henotheism had a characteristic feature of Slavic beliefs since the beginning.
In this matter a significant premise turned out to be the account of Procopius
of Caesarea, who confirms the existence of the one god of the Sclavenes and
Antes in the 6th c., who would dominate the pantheon throughout its forma-
tion from its very inception.369
However, such a position does not result directly from the source,370 the
contents of which are more conducive to the conviction that the Byzantine
chronicler perceived the beliefs of peoples in polytheistic categories, and in
addition to which, in a very special way, he only emphasized the character who
resembled best the ancient mythological sovereign of the heavens who com-
manded thunder, such as Zeus or Jovi. Finally, one has to conclude that the
view that assumes that the genesis of henotheism among the Slavs dated back
to at least the 6th c. AD was based on a priori assumptions in the matter of
the evolution of their beliefs, and more precisely a conviction that the Early
Slavs did not know the concept of a deity at all. Due to the fact that in the
current state of discussion, such a concept has a clear alternative, which is
discussed above, the occurrence of a henotheistic tendency among the Slavs
can be most certainly confirmed at the stage of intensified attempts of their
Christianization (from the 10th c.).
However, in this hypothetical case there should be discussion of a trend
leading to henotheism and not the phenomenon of henotheism in the strict
sense of this term, because in relation to the Rus’ and the Liutici in Thietmar’s
times, the medieval sources confirm only the domination of one of the gods
over the representatives of the pantheon,371 who did not lose the attribute of
divinity however. In the changing political and social situation in Polabia in
the 11th c., particular tribes introduced into the public cult the worship of one
of the gods as the patron of a given community, which is especially depicted
in the sources from the 12th c.372 However, it is hard to consider this situation
as henotheism sensu stricto, because it did not mean the negation of the exis-
tence of other gods (e.g. neighbours’ gods), and only meant public worship of
only one god of a particular tribe.
A better term for this phenomenon seems to be monolatry. Its development,
similarly to the earlier henotheistic trend, was related to the accumulation of
various functions by the deity aspiring for leadership of the pantheon. Thus
Svarožic combines military characteristics with the competence of control-
ling atmospheric phenomena indicated in the symbolism of light and fire.373
Taking into consideration his leading role among the other gods in Radogošč,
an association with Perun is formed, but from the perspective of the functional
analysis, Perun is first of all Svarog’s counterpart.374 This is why it seems safer
371 Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 222 ff. stated that Dazbog was not as close to Svarog as
Svarožic, and additionally if one assumes based on silence in the sources, that the west-
ern Slavs did not know Svarog in the 11th c., he concluded that the evolution of the Slavic
religion in the east led to the domination of the meteorological Perun (although traces
of Svarog are also clear here), while in the west the solar Svarog-Svarožic became the
sovereign. This is the way in which Pettazzoni viewed the civilizational distinctiveness
between the East and the West of the Slavdom. Similarly Łowmiański, Religia, p. 97, ex-
pressing a conviction about the existence of three southern Slavdom deities: the demi-
urge of lightning = Perun, Dazbog and Svarog, claimed that in the Balkans – according
to Procopius’s testimony – initially only Perun was worshipped and Svarog appeared
there in connection with the later colonisation of the Western Slavdom by the tribes of
Croatians, Obodrite, and Serbs in the 6th c. The co-occurrence of the cult of Perun and
Svarog in the same areas, according to this concept, was to be an expression of coexis-
tence of two settlement trends, and not any evidence of polytheism. However, this way of
thinking raises doubts related to the proposed way of confirmation in the sources of the
cult of Svarog in the Balkans, and also the concept of the occurrence of the so-called pro-
totheism among the Slavs and late development of polytheism among them (see above).
372 Helmold, hagiography of St. Otto of Bamberg, see below, pp. 306 ff., 338, 365. See also
Rosik, Conversio, p. 264.
373 Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 177 f.: in Polabia the cult of Svarožic as the god of war requires
adoption of the view that one of the fire properties – thunder in the atmosphere or fire
causing destruction in the earthly environment – could evoke associations with ritual
bonfires used to scare away hostile, supernatural forces.
374 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 192, thought it was possible that after accepting the Slavic
etymology of Svarog one could perceive him as a substitute name for e.g. Perun.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 123
to support the view that Svarožic took over roles originally reserved for the said
heavenly sovereigns.375
On the other hand, the analogy derived from Rus’ sources, or more precisely
a comparison with Dazbog, would indicate a possibility that the Liutici Svarožic
is also responsible for the agrarian sphere. The power of this hypothetical as-
sessment is enhanced by another analogy that is closer geographically, namely
Svantevit, the major deity of the Rugians, who patronized war but was also
worshipped as the god of harvest.376 However, this type of agrarian role in the
case of Svarožic was possibly not marked initially, and rather became visible
only at a later stage of the evolution of his cult in the direction of henotheism
or even monolatry, which was likely already referred to by Adam of Bremen.
The major Liutici god in his work is called Redigast, the name which ini-
tially was probably Svarožic’s nickname and related to a particular cult centre
located – important in this case – in the land of Redars. Therefore, Redigast
primarly would be the patron of this tribe and the appearance of this theon-
im would be evidence of the already mentioned formation of cults for god-
patrons of particular tribes377 or centres in Polabia. In the cult and attributes
of a few of these major deities one can see elements characteristic for Svarožic,
such as warriorhood,378 but also fire connotations, or more precisely associa-
tions with the sun. They are evoked for example by the symbolism of gold, of
which Redigast’s statue was made, or by the four faces of Svantevit of Arkona.379
This tendency to increase the significance of the solar element in the cult
of the Polabian Slavs, the influence of which should be taken into account also
375 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 175: Svarožic-Dazbog would be an atmospheric god (which would
overlap with Perun’s competences) as well as the role of an offering fire and home. Three
types of fire overlap with one another in the Indian pantheon, hence it makes sense to
state that Svarožic was a diminutive form of Svarog, and not only a patronymic.
376 Saxo XIV, 39, 4–5; cf. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 110, 154. See also further, p. 313.
377 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 148 f., surmised that multiplicity of names does not nec-
essarily denote multiplicity of gods (there may be local nicknames, taboos). Another view
presented by this scholar holds that a nickname could be the beginning of a new god.
378 A characteristic shared by gods of the Polabian and Pomeranian tribes is belligerence;
according to the sources they resemble a ruler, who participates in a war leading his bat-
talions (according to Saxo XIV, 39, 7, Svantevit had a squad of 300 horsemen). See e.g.
Vladimír Procházka, “Organisace kultu a kmenove zřizeni polabsko-pobaltskych slovanů,”
in Vznik a počatki slovanů 2 (Praha: Nakladatelství Československé akademie věd, 1958), p.
152; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 265 f.
379 See below, pp. 212 ff., 364 f.
124 Chapter 2
380 A comparative argument on this matter is identification of Dazbog (Svarožic) with Helios,
see Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 171 f.; cf. Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 237 f. See above
pp. 110 f.
381 It is worthy to mention that the occurrence of solar cult has been discussed also in nearer
to Western Slavs comparative context, i.e., Scandinavian one, recently, see e.g. Andreas
Nordberg, Fornnordisk religionsforskning mellan teori och empiri. Kulten av anfäder, solen
och vegetationsandar i idéhistorisk belysning, (Acta Academiae regiae Gustavi Adolphi) 126
(Uppsala: Kungl. Gustav Adolfs akademien för svensk folk kultur, 2013); Anders Andrén,
Tracing Old Norse Cosmology. The world tree, middle earth, and the sun in archaeological
perspectives, (Vägar till Midgård) 16 (Lund: Nordic Academic Press, 2014), p. 117 ff., 164 ff.
382 Mircea Eliade, Traktat o historii religii, trans. Jan Wierusz-Kowalski (Łódź: Opus, 1993)
[orig. Traité d’histoire des religions (Paris: Payot, 1949)], p. 127.
383 Moreover Vladimir the Great himself was associated with a later tradition of the tsar-sun.
For more information see Rybakov, Jazyčestvo drevnej Rusi, p. 438–454.
384 P VL under the year 6488 [980].
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 125
2.6.4 Ministri
Thietmar’s reference to the ordination of priests by local inhabitants in
Radogošč attracts the special attention of scholars involved in the discussion
on how such a group of cultic officials came into existence in communities of
the Early Slavs.386 The prevailing view holds that there is only certainty in this
matter with reference to the Polabian and Pomeranian area and not earlier
than the 10th c.387 The exceptional position of priests – or actually the tempo-
rary cultic leaders – in the Liutici society was emphasized by the fact that they
remained sitting during offerings while all other participants of these rites had
385 Recently on the matter of these consolidation processes from the archaeological perspec-
tive see: Biermann, Zentralisierungsprozesse, pp. 157–194.
386 Thietmar VI, 24: “Ad haec curiose tuenda ministri sunt specialiter ab indigenis constituti”.
387 E.g. Łowmiański, Politeizm, passim; Kiersnowska, Kiersnowski, Życie codzienne, p. 34;
Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 120, who emphasized that the priests were characterised
by special outfits and long hair and beards (in Rügen). This author also repeats the view
that formation of priesthood in the Polabian and Pomeranian native religion area was
influenced by Christian models. This speculation can hardly be verified, and the informa-
tion given by Thietmar about Radogošč does not help here either: functions of ministri
there were different from responsibilities of the Christian clergy at that time. Searching
for possible Christian inspiration in the appearance of Radogošč priests, one should refer
to eremitism, however, it seems that it will be significantly more dependable to look for
the genesis of these ministri in internal development mechanisms of the cults systems
of the Elbslavs. See also e.g. Kazimierz Wachowski, Słowiańszczyzna Zachodnia (Poznań:
Wydawnictwo Poznańskiego Towarzystwa Przyjaciół Nauk, 2000 [1st ed. 1903]), pp. 94,
162 f.; Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,” pp. 136 f.
126 Chapter 2
to stand.388 Taking into account the fact that the Liutici made offerings dur-
ing war expeditions,389 it is worth recognizing the possibility that some of the
priests went to war with images of deities taken from the temple to accompany
the military forces.
The fact that the temple was located deep in the forest does not seem to
indicate that priests from Radogošč were in constant contact with the Liutici
community, in contrast to priests from Arkona or Szczecin (Stettin). However,
this does not mean that the temple in Radogošč had weaker political influence:
the ministri interpreted divinations related to politics and also had the temple
treasury of the whole tribal federation at their disposal.390 When considering
the Liutici political system, which according to Thietmar was not ruled by one
leader (“dominus non presidet ullus”), one should take into account the pos-
sibility of a ruling system that evolved towards theocracy, which is indicated
especially in later work of Helmold.391
However, this type of tendency meant strengthening the role of the
assembly,392 at which priests’ votes (oracle) were significantly weighted, and
at the same time in this case of the shaping of the ruling system, they were
important in counteracting the formation of monarchic structures. On the
other hand, there is no sufficient evidence to speculate that among the Liutici
388 Thietmar VI, 24: “Qui cum idolis immolare seu iram eorundem placare conveniunt, sed-
ent hii, dumtaxat caeteris asstantibus …”.
389 See above, pp. 91 f.
390 Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 132. Ibidem, p. 194, the author mentions the strong influence of
priests (thanks to performed rituals) on the whole community as they were considered
members of the wealthy elite; similarly Dralle, “Rethra,” p. 41, assuming the presence of
theocratic forms of power (“quasikönigliche Oberherrschaft”) among the Veleti with ref-
erence to the capital in Radogošč, ibidem, pp. 37–39. See also Piotr Boroń, Słowiańskie
wiece plemienne (Katowice: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Śląskiego, 1999), p. 88.
391 See below pp. 302 f., 359, 374. The reasons for the growing significance of Radogošč, ac-
cording to Dralle, “Rethra,” pp. 43–47, are found in its significance during the Slavic rebel-
lions (983, 1018). Native cults played a unifying role in the political association.
392 A wider context of the discussed reference, Thietmar VI, 25: “… Liutici (…) dominus non
presidet ullus. Unanimi consilio ad placitum suimet necessaria discucientes, in rebus ef-
ficiendis omnes concordant”, indicates that the main institution of the Liutici power was
the assembly (cf. e.g. Jedlicki, “Poglądy,” p. 68). It is not denied by Klaus Zernack, Die burg-
städtischen Volkversammlungen bei den Ost und Westslaven. Studien zur verfassungsge-
schichtlichen Bedeutung des Veče (Wiesbaden: Harrasowitz, 1967), pp. 208–215, although
he emphasizes that in the light of written sources, the problem of the Liutici political
system in the 11th c. seems quite complex: control of the supraregional community shows
characteristics of an assembly (veche), however, it is concentrated around the political
and religious centre in Rethra. For more information on the Slavic tribal assembly includ-
ing Thietmar’s data see Boroń, Słowiańskie wiece, pp. 7–105, especially 70, 82–84, 88. See
also Fraesdorf, Der barbarische Norden, p. 140.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 127
there was a priestly rule in the strict sense of this term. The very theocracy
to which one can refer here, only in the dimension of sacral interpretation
of the social order, is the situation in which Svarožic is presented as a mysti-
cal sovereign of a multi-tribal federation concentrated around his temple in
Radogošč.393
The special significance of this place is also confirmed by locating there the
group of these ministri, while some tribal sanctuaries in Polabia probably had
to settle for only one priest.394 It is characteristic that Thietmar refers to the
priests in Radogošč as ministri, and not sacerdotes, flamines or pontifices, as
they were called in later sources. These specifics of the terminology became
a pretext for speculations related to a different status and responsibilities of
cult servants in Radogošč in comparison with their Polabian or Pomeranian
counterparts known from descriptions written in the 12th c.395
However, the said use of the term ministri seems to be clarified by the specif-
ics of Thietmar’s way of working and his precision in selecting words. He de-
picted Radogošč cultic leaders exactly as idols’ servants and stewards of god’s
secrets and this range of roles is perfectly indicated in the term minister, espe-
cially with reference to the cult in the temple which was isolated from every-
day tribal life. Such terms as sacerdotes or pontifices are used by the chronicler
to refer to Christian clergy, priests, and hierarchs functioning every day in a
393 The role of Svantevit in Rügen is interpreted similarly, see below, p. 322. According to
Kiersnowska, Kiersnowski, Życie codzienne, p. 168: “Among the Veleti Svarožic complete-
ly substituted a duke”, however, this statement seems oversimplified as it does not take
into account the overriding role of the assembly in the practice of governing the Liutici
community.
394 E.g. Prove in Starigard according to Helmold I, 69.
395 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 233, insisted on calling the Liutici ministri “servants”, to distin-
guish them from priests who were to be formed in the next decades. In Łowmiański’s
reasoning this speculation is yet another argument for the later development of the
Polabian polytheism and its strict relation to formation of tribal statehood. In the temples
of particular tribes there would be only one servant (like a priest in Arkona according
to Saxo Grammaticus). The link preceding ministri in the chain of transformations in
the institution of the Slavic cult were to be sorcerers or kin leaders. The concept raises
doubts because its main premise, i.e. the term minister was interpreted without appro-
priate consideration for Thietmar’s writing convention, yet in a way which supported
H. Łowmiański’s a priori judgements on the evolution of the Slavic religion. For infor-
mation on Old Slavs’ priests see e.g. Zdzisław Rajewski, “Pogańscy kapłani-czarodzieje
w walce klasowej we wczesnym średniowieczu,” Wiadomości Archeologiczne 39
(1975), pp. 503–509; Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 207 ff.; Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
p. 120; idem, “Kapłani pogańscy,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 371; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries,
pp. 44, 68, 81 f., 161; Sven Wichert, “Die politische Rolle der heidnischen Priester bei den
Westslaven,” Studia Mythologica Slavica 13 (2010), pp. 33–42.
128 Chapter 2
396 It should be added that numerous analogies between the cult in Szczecin or Arkona
and presented by Thietmar in Radogošč prove that the social rank of priests in all these
centres was not as varied as was presented by scholars supporting their positions by an
analysis of differences in names used to refer to these servants of the cult in Thietmar’s
chronicle and 12th c. sources – e.g. H. Łowmiański, see footnote 395 in this chapter.
397 Thietmar VI, 24: “… invicem clanculum mussantes terram cum tremore infodiunt, quo
sortibus emissis rerum certitudinem dubiarum perquirant”. For comparative mate-
rial about Germanic cleromance see Leszek P. Słupecki, Wyrocznie i wróżby pogańskich
Skandynawów. Studium do dziejów idei przeznaczenia u ludów indoeuropejskich (Warszawa:
IAE PAN, 1998), pp. 103 ff.
398 Słupecki, Wyrocznie, pp. 144 f.
399 Thietmar VI, 24: “Quibus finitis cespite viridi eas operientes, equum, qui maximus inter
alios habetur et ut sacer ab his veneratur, super fixas in terram duarum cuspides hastili-
um inter se transmissarum supplici obsequio ducunt”. The spear divination has a certain
analogy with a Roman rite of burying Mars’s holy spears in his in the Regia building: peace
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 129
earlier, with the divine animal they repeated the augury.400 Only the results
of both divinations allowed them to take a positive decision on the planned
initiative: “If the same omen appears in both cases, it is carried out in fact.
Otherwise, the unhappy folk reject it.”401
The horse as a sacred animal among the Slavic tribes was known also to
other medieval authors – like the hagiographers Otto of Bamberg, Saxo
Grammaticus,402 and likely also William of Malmesbury403 – and similarly a
divination practice connected with leading an animal between spears. In this
context it is worth adding that Annales Augustani under the year 1068 state
directly that the Slavs possessed “a horse, which they worshipped as god in
Rethra.”404 However, attributing treating an animal like a deity to the Liutici
seems like an element aimed at ridiculing their beliefs.405 A comparative
or war prophecies were made based on observation whether the spears were moved – see
Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 129.
400 Thietmar VI, 24: “… premissis sortibus, quibus id exploravere prius, per hunc quasi divi-
num denuo auguriantur.”
401 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 253; cf. Thietmar VI, 24: “Et si in duabus hiis
rebus par omen apparet, factis completur; sin autem, a tristibus populis hoc prorsus
omittitur.”
402 For hippomancy and hippolatry in the hagiography of Otto of Bamberg and Saxo
Grammaticus’s chronicle, see Słupecki, Wyrocznie, pp. 146–150; Rosik, Conversio,
pp. 268–271. In the context of this discussion, one should also remember about archaeo-
logical findings which were to prove the presence of the horse in the Slavic cult. See e.g.:
Szafrański, Prahistoria, pp. 370 f.
403 William of Malmesbury, Gesta regum Anglorum: The History of English Kings, vol. 1,
ed. Roger Aubrey Baskerville Mynors, Rodney M. Thomson, Michael Winterbottom
(Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1998) 2.189) information refers to the oracle of the Liutici
or the Rans (Rujani). It was not included in the collection of source texts edited by
K.H. Meyer, which can be explained by its poor reception in studies on the Slavic reli-
gion; in this context it was taken into account by Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 507, and
recently also R. Zaroff and L.P. Słupecki – see Leszek P. Słupecki, “Posłowie,” in Gieysztor,
Mitologia, pp. 340 f.
404 Annales Augustani, ed. Georg Heinrich Pertz, MGH SS 3 (1839), under the year 1068, p. 128:
“… equum quem pro deo in Rheda [i.e. Rethra – S.R.] colebant”.
405 This presumption corresponds with a wider context of occurrence of the discussed here
evaluation of “pro deo”, namely the information that the conqueror of Rethra, bishop
Burchard, not only took a horse but also rode it – hence symbolically – tamed the alleged
Slavic “deity”.
130 Chapter 2
Figure 2 The small bronze figure of a horse from Wolin (11th c.)
The Regional Andrzej Kaube Museum in Wolin
material showing the role of the horse in rituals practiced in Szczecin and
Arkona indicates that it was an attribute of the major god,406 but it was not
a deity.407
406 Gieysztor (Mitologia, p. 129) mentioned referring to the cult in Arkona on Rügen, that
horse was not a sacrificial animal, it was one of the power symbols of a deity, in which
in a comparative perspective one can observe a reference to a Vedic truth: the horse
belongs to Varuna. Taking into account heavenly and possibly also solar connotations
of Svarožic’s cult, assume that the divination horse in Radogošč was white, similarly
to solar Svantevit, and contrary to Triglav’s black horse in Szczecin (whose coat colour
would correspond with the characteristic chthonic genesis of this deity). In comparative
research on Slavic hippomancy it is emphasized that according to Tacitus the Germans
also practiced white horse divinations (cf. Tacitus, Germania, 10). Similarly also in ancient
mythologies, horses of this coat colour were used by Ahura Mazda, Zeus and Helios. See
Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 218; Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 129. See also a comparative mate-
rial in: Słupecki, Wyrocznie, pp. 129–154, particularly 146; Vladas Žulkus, “Heidentum und
Christentum in Lituanien im 10.–16. Jahrhundert,” in Rom und Byzanz im Norden. Mission
und Glaubenswechsel im Ostseeraum während des 8.–14 Jahrhunderts, vol. 2, ed. Michael
Müller-Wille (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1997), pp. 144 f.
407 See e.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 88.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 131
This does not change the fact that the holy horse was distinguished in all
surroundings as a manifestation of supernatural forces, and thus it was not
treated only as a cult “tool” (like pieces of wood used in divinations).408 Hence
one should take into account that the Latin terminology used in descriptions
does not allow us to show precisely the categories of defining sacrum by pre-
Christian Slavs. The very qualification of divergence between sacer and pro deo
however, opens more opportunities for research. A more precise term used by
Thietmar, which shows both the holiness of an animal and its worship, does
not mean that the animal belonged to the fellowship of gods.
Actually, it is worth adding that the expression “pro deo” does not require
the Liutici thinking that an animal is a deity but indicates rather that in gen-
eral instead of (pro) any god or even Christian God considered to be the only
one, they worship the horse. This interpretation of the premise from Annales
Augustani shows even more clearly that there was a trend to ridicule pagan-
ism in Christian circles using stereotypical judgments about worshipping the
creation rather than the Creator.
Having presented divinations, let us return to Thietmar’s narrative where
there is a premise about another kind of prognostic used by the Liutici to pre-
dict the future. The chronicler quotes a legend from times immemorial about a
particular sign heralding a civil war. It was a boar409 emerging from a lake near
Radogošč, with white tusks brightened by foam at its mouth, which perpe-
trated horror while rolling in mud.410 In the chronicler’s assessment this story
alone forms evidence that old tales were full of various errors.411 Nevertheless,
408 Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 218, claimed that exactly thanks to its numinal and divine
character the horse was able to offer divinations expected from this animal, correcting
and perfecting earlier indications provided by casting lots.
409 To make this premise stronger, it seems worthy to stress that boar also played an important
part in pre-Christian religious and military sphere in neighbouring Scandinavian circle,
see Heinrich Beck, Das Ebersignum im Germanischen: Ein Beitrag zur germanischen Tier-
Symbolik, (Quellen und Forschungen zur Sprach- und Kulturgeschichte der germanisch-
en Völker. Neue Folge) 16 (Berlin: De Gruyter, 1965), pp. 47, 56–69; Olof Sundqvist, Freyr’s
Offspring. Rulers and Religion in Ancient Svea Society, (Acta Universitatis Upsaliensis.
Historia Religionum) 22 (Uppsala 2002).
410 Thietmar VI, 24: “si quando his seva longae rebellionis assperitas immineat, ut e mari
predicto aper magnus et candido dente e spumis lucescente exeat seque in volutabro
delectatum terribili quassatione multis ostendat”. From the perspective of the history of
historiography, it is worth emphasizing that there were attempts to “rationally” explain
the said motif of the boar, such as Rajewski, “Święta woda,” p. 115: “The boar with bright,
white tusks emerging form the lake in Radogošč, could be mountainous waves during a
moonlit night.”
411 The chronicler introduces this motif in his work with the following words: “Testatur idem
antiquitas errore delusa vario …” (cf. Thietmar VI, 24). This multiple error in this expression
can be also interpreted in the context of erroneous religious convictions or pagan myths.
132 Chapter 2
the image of a boar in the story inspired a search in the area of mythology
to discover the symbolism of this animal. A. Gieysztor mentioned that in the
Slavdom the boar was a subject of an apotropaic cult (evidence for which is
provided by a boar’s skull with tusks pushed into a trunk of an old oak from
the Dnieper River). Tusk charms protected from maledictions and originated
myths, one of which was the basis for the legend reported by Thietmar.412
The boar emerging from a lake in the night was an image which in the Slavic
cultural sphere evoked lunar symbolism,413 for which one can find interpreta-
tion in the mythological presentation of Svarožic.414 However, it is difficult to
accept the idea that this boar was an embodiment of the Liutici god,415 al-
though it can likely be described as his attribute. However, the very threatening
apparition of sacrum can be connected with its roles during times of war. This
direction of interpretation would indicate – according to the above-mentioned
A. Gieysztor’s observation – that the old legend discussed here treats the boar
as an embodiment of tutelary powers surrounding the Liutici.
However, it is worth suggesting in this case an alternative way of solving the
riddle of this mythical scene. Namely, by referring to the symbolism of water as
eternal chaos and the settlement of destructive powers of the universe, which
is also indicated in the element of terror emphasized by Thietmar in the de-
scription of the lake in Radogošč.416 This boar would be an embodiment of
destructive powers present in a very sensitive area such as a civil war.417 The
very prophetic image of the beast emerging from water would find its analogy
in an earlier description of the Glomač spring, where the appearance of blood
and ash in its water would herald a coming war.418
non-monarchic structure. Actually the civil war at the end of the 6th decade of the 11th c.
brought the Liutici power to an end.
418 See above, p. 57.
419 Thietmar VI, 25: “Quot regiones sunt in his partibus, tot templa habentur et simulacra
demonum singula ab infidelibus coluntur, inter quae civitas supramemorata principalem
tenet monarchiam.” Assuming that temples were not very common even in Polabia,
the discussed templa is interpreted as various types of cult places – from holy groves
through cult circles to roofed temples, see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 79. Małgorzata
Kowalczyk, Wierzenia pogańskie za pierwszych Piastów (Łódź: Wydawnictwo Łódzkie,
1968), p. 28, assumed that templa mentioned by Thietmar were simply groves and becks.
However, this type of extension of the meaning of the word templum causes the loss of
specifics of the chronicler’s narration.
134 Chapter 2
420 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 171. The author appreciated Thietmar claiming that he “did not re-
strict himself to presenting occasional records of the Liutici polytheism, but outlined also
its synthetic image”. A condition of this way of presenting the issue is a silent assumption
that the expression in his partibus refers exactly to the Liutici territories and not to any
wider area.
421 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 171.
422 The Liutici pantheon in Radogošč was perceived in reference to tribal territories even
earlier, and the presented gods were to be patrons of particular tribes. Hence, e.g. Dowiat,
Chrzest, p. 24, assumed that the unification of tribes required respect for territorial gods
and in this way a hierarchy was built with one of them as the hegemon (the same Jerzy
Gąssowski, “Między pogaństwem a chrześcijaństwem,” in Wierzenia przedchrześcijańskie
na ziemiach polskich, ed. Marian Kwapiński, Henryk Paner (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo
Muzeum Archeologicznego w Gdańsku, 1993), pp. 13 f.). On the other hand, Łowmiański,
Religia, p. 170, connected the formation of polytheism with paganism fighting the pres-
sure of Christianity, however, he perceived bringing deities into being as a reply to prac-
tical people’s needs (following the Christian model), and not only political symbolism.
He acknowledged that the heavenly Svarog and his subordinate tribal patrons were wor-
shipped in Radogošč, and the whole pantheon in his opinion was created following the
pattern of respect towards God and saints in Christianity. This concept was a polemic
with an earlier idea created by Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 35, who on the
basis of inscriptions related to particular idols in Radogošč (see above pp. 101, 104), as-
sumed that the sanctuary was established under the influence of Scandinavian patterns.
This cultural borrowing, in Brückner’s opinion, resulted in only temporary strengthening
of paganism and so it is hard to consider Radogošč as a good indication for the recon-
struction of the Polabian and Pomeranian model of cult.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 135
The key question in this debate is the issue of the genesis of tribal gods. They
are confirmed in 11th and 12th c. sources,423 and thus an assumption that they
existed in the 10th c. should certainly receive attention. The fact, which is obvi-
ous in the light of Thietmar’s work, that Svarožic was a patron of the Redars,
does not necessarily mean that he was not worshipped by representatives of
other tribes as the common heritage of Polabian (or even generally Slavic)
beliefs from the time before the formation of the Liutici community around
Radogošč. Thietmar’s record does not include information on what particular
deities were worshipped in temples in regiones and at best it can be assumed
that these templa were major cult places of particular tribes. Actually the term
regio is used by Thietmar to refer to tribal territories in presentation of the
Polabian area.424 However, it is worth emphasizing that in a wider context of
the work the term regio refers also to whole countries, or on the other hand,
smaller territorial units concentrated around a particular centre.425
This semantic variant of regio corresponds with a view, which is a quite well
settled in the debate on Thietmar’s information discussed here, that these re-
giones with temples were territories connected with particular strongholds as
their centres. The ground for this proposal is a conviction that as early as the
first decades of the 11th c., decentralization of tribal organization took place,
and so the cult was concentrated in the local power centres.426 This image with
423 Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 114, discusses their occurrence at the end stage of Old Slavic
religion.
424 Regiones mentioned by Thietmar (VI, 25) were considered tribal territories e.g. by
Wachowski, Słowiańszczyzna, p. 66; Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Podziały plemienne i problem
jedności Słowian,” in Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami a Polską. Materiały z
konferencji naukowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w dniach 28–29 IV 1980
r., ed. Jerzy Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), p. 127. It is worth remember-
ing that Thietmar interchangeably used the terms ‘pagus’, ‘regio’, ‘provincia’ to refer to
tribal territories (of e.g. the Dalemici or Milceni) – ibidem, p. 116; cf. Lech A. Tyszkiewicz,
“Plemiona słowiańskie we wczesnym średniowieczu,” in Słowiańszczyzna w Europie
średniowiecznej Księga pamiątkowa dla Lecha Leciejewicza, vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne
państwa, ed. Zofia Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 1996), p. 48.
425 E .g. Merseburg, see Thietmar I, 2.
426 Like in Herrmann, “Feldberg, Rethra,” pp. 67–69; idem, Siedlung, Wirtschaft und gesell-
schaftliche Verhältnisse der slawischen Stämme zwischen Oder/Neisse und Elbe (Berlin:
Akademie-Verlag, 1968), pp. 159 ff. Cf. Eike Gringmuth-Dallmer, Adolf Hollnagel,
“Jungslawische Siedlung mit Holzidolen auf der Fischerinsel bei Neubrandenburg,”
Ausgrabungen und Funde 15 (1970), p. 230. The same in Lech Leciejewicz, “Główne prob-
lemy dziejów obodrzyckich,” in Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami a Polską.
Materiały z konferencji naukowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w dniach
28–29 IV 1980 r., ed. Jerzy Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), pp. 174 ff. The au-
thor recognized a temple and a stronghold known from excavation work in Gross Raden
as a typical example of a link in a chain of sanctuaries mentioned by Thietmar.
136 Chapter 2
reference to the Liutici can be confirmed not earlier than in the 12th c. in the
hagiography of Otto of Bamberg, in which early town centres are presented as
places where temples were built for local communities.427
However, in Thietmar’s times, dozens of years before the disintegration of
the Liutici unity, it is hard to assume that sanctuaries intended for the whole
tribes would disappear. It should be taken into account that there was coex-
istence of cult places at various levels of social life. This solution is supported
by a comparative indication from Helmold’s chronicle when he presents the
Wagrian land in the 12th c., where apart from a sanctuary of the patron-deity
of the Wagrians – Prove – he also mentions the existence of the stronghold
temple.428 Moreover, one should also take into account the existence of cult
places even at the level of neighbourly communities.429
It seems that Thietmar’s intention was primarily emphasizing the universal
occurrence of sanctuaries “in these parts,” and not detailed lists that included
the precise numbers of temples. Similarly, treating the expression “simulachra
demonum singula” as confirmation of locating in each temple only one idol
seems an overly restrictive interpretation. In this context it is worth recalling
the phrase “singulis nominibus,” which was used in the description of statues
of deities in Radogošč, to emphasize the meaning of the adjective ‘singulus’
used by Thietmar and indicating not so much the number of names but rather
their uniqueness and privacy. Hence A. Brückner’s decision to translate “quod
regiones (etc.)” as: “they have as many tiny countries as temples and worship
particular [emphasis – S.R.] demonic idols.”430
However, even support for the interpretation, assuming that there was only
one idol in each temple, will not allow the character (and even more so names
or roles) of deities embodied by them to be defined. In the interpretation of
Thietmar’s information, the emphasis of dedication of these sculptures to de-
mons is of key significance. Hence the admission of this theological interpreta-
tion of paganism is in harmony with the expression infideles (“infidels”), used
in this context to refer to its followers. In this perspective it is hard to decide
whether the term “demons” refers to particular deities or more generally to an
antisacral addressee of idolatry understood in this way by Christians.
427 In Wolgast and Gützkow, see Ebo III, 7–11; cf. Rosik, Conversio, pp. 418–434.
428 See below, p. 345.
429 E.g. Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 115.
430 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 46.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 137
Due to the fact that Thietmar used the expression dii to refer to idols, it
seems more probable that he did not identify gods with demons.431 Therefore
he outlined an image in which “these parts” are controlled by demonic idolatry,
and there are no direct references to the nature of the worshipped divine per-
sons in the perspective of Slavic mythology. Building on such a basis a multi-
layer hypothesis that templa in particular regions were dedicated to one tribal
patron is evidence that a priori views in reflection of the development of the
Slavic religion are very strong. Moreover, the idea to summarize these gods to
create a supra-tribal pantheon concentrated around Svarožic in the temple in
Radogošč was based on weak premises.432
Thus, resigning from this concept based on such weak grounds, one should
take into account a premise included in Thietmar’s claim that Svarožic was
worshipped by all pagans (verbatim “cuncti gentiles”). Although the context
shows that he means the idol from Radogošč, universality of this cult can in-
directly indicate that it was not strictly related to only one place. There are
no sufficient grounds for the thesis that the process of shaping tribal patron
deities known from the 11th and 12th c. was advanced enough to claim that
Svarožic was only the deity of the Redars – to the contrary, it is still possible to
find references to Svarog on his behalf to a more general and original tradition
of Slavic beliefs.
If one decides to exercise this option there will be two variants to consid-
er: 1) Svarožic would originally be the sovereign of local pantheons of tribes
that next belonged to the Liutici Federation; 2) Svarožic, being known among
Liutici tribes would dominate local pantheons after their political and religious
431 For a discussion on the matter see above, p. 109. Nota bene, Thietmar showed good ori-
entation in Christian demonology, e.g. on numerous occasions he described a mystical
experience of his characters in which they were attacked by evil spirits; see also Thietmar
I, 23, p. 34.
432 In H. Łowmiański’s proposal the Liutici pantheon encompassed only gods with the same
competences and at the same time the ones with the highest positions. The idea of cre-
ating such a federation of gods as an allegory of relations between Polabian tribes has
its counterpart in attempts to explain the occurrence of polycephalism among seaside
gods (Triglav, Svantevit) as an expression of tribes merging into larger organisms and
melting together of their tribal unicephalic patrons into one figure with a few heads.
This view was expressed by e.g. Włodzimierz Antoniewicz, “Religia dawnych Słowian,”
in Religie świata, ed. Eugeniusz Dąbrowski (Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy PAX, 1957),
pp. 369–371; Dowiat, Chrzest, p. 27. This attempt to explain the polycephalism of Slavic
statues of gods does not withstand criticism (see Rosik, Udział, pp. 57, 67 f. and see below,
pp. 340 ff.), which indirectly influences the assessment of the proposal explaining a large
number of idols in Radogošč as a result of activity of an analogous mechanism connected
with the unification of tribes.
138 Chapter 2
unification around Radogošč. In one way or another in the 11th c., as a result of
progressing disintegration of cults in Polabia, Svarožic’s place in cult would be
taken by patron gods of particular tribes.433
It is worth emphasizing that although the proposal presented here in two
variants is based on a premise in Thietmar’s narration, the method of reason-
ing largely constructs a space about which sources keep silent. This is why it is
still worth taking into account an alternative solution, assuming that the cult
of the Radogošč sovereign was disseminated as an “all-federation” cult of main-
ly Liutici tribes, and maybe also their neighbours, which was a parallel cult in
relation to worship addressed to native pantheons, connected with each of the
above mentioned regiones temples.
To sum up this general outline of hypothetical findings about the reality
of Slavic beliefs and cults related to the summary image of the Polabian net-
work of temples discussed above, one should emphasize that Thietmar, talk-
ing about the ruling of the “principal monarchy” (principalis monarchia) by
Radogošč, formed a theological perspective that showed the primacy of this
idolatry centre over other centres. In this perspective, along with Svarožic,
according to the chronicler, primus deorum, becoming also a counterpart of
princeps demonum, the major Liutici temple becomes the capital of all Christ’s
enemies.
In the way it was treated by Liutici – to continue reading Thietmar’s
chronicle – there is a striking similarity to biblical motifs related to Jerusalem,
such as greeting the Holy City and offering gifts: “They salute this [city] on
their way to war, on their victorious return they worship it with proper gifts;
and what sacrifice they shall make by the hands of servants [of the temple]
that will be pleasant for gods they find out by drawing lots and [prophecies
with a use of] a horse, as I have already mentioned. Their [gods’] unspeakable
fury can be tamed by human and cattle blood.”434 Certainly there is no basis
to exclude the possibility that the premise about greeting Radogošč refers to
433 Leciejewicz, Słowianie, pp. 215 ff., especially 222. It cannot be excluded that some gods
who substituted in cult the universally worshipped Svarožic initially were his various,
local hypostases, like we already know from the description written by Adam of Bremen
Redigast (see above, pp. 212 ff.). A. Brückner even suggested that the names of Polabian
and Pomeranian deities, such as Svantevit, Triglav and Iarovit are only local names of
Svarožic (cf. Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 199 f.). However, this view seems oversimplified and one
should take into account that the mythologies and cult of the above mentioned deities
were formed in a longer process of various overlapping motifs and symbols (e.g. the ch-
thonic one in the case of Triglav, which is discussed below).
434 Thietmar VI, 25: “Hanc ad bellum properantes salutant, illam prospere redeuntes muneri-
bus debitis honorant, et quae placabilis hostia diis offerri a ministris debeat, per sortes
ac per equum, sicut prefatus sum, diligenter inquiritur. Hominum ac sanguine pecudum
ineffabilis horum furor mitigatur.”
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 139
435 See above, footnotes 390 and 434 in this chapter. An analogy can be found in confirma-
tions of keeping precious objects in temples in Szczecin (see Die Prüfeninger Vita Bischof
Ottos I. von Bamberg nach der Fassung des Groβen Österreichischen Legendars, ed. Jürgen
Petersohn, MGH SSrerGerm in usum scholarum (1999) [further: Vita Prieflingensis], II,
11–12) or Arkona in narrative sources, see below, pp. 300 f.
436 For more information of human offerings in the context of Adam’s reports see below
pp. 244 ff.
437 Saxo Grammaticus XIV, 39, 3; 39, 39–40; cf. above footnote 326 in this chapter.
438 For polycephalism of Slavic idols and attempts to interpret it in studies on the Slavic reli-
gion see below, pp. 338 ff.
140 Chapter 2
a group of political power centres with pre-Christian cult places, a good ex-
ample of which was also Kiev in the times of Vladimir the Great.439 However,
Porevit and Porenut, when accompanying the major Rugievit, do not corre-
spond with deities accompanying Thor in his pantheon in Uppsala in terms of
their function and position. However, they “follow a few regularities character-
istic for the Dioskouri.”440
Advantages of interpreting the triad of deities from “Carentia” in this way
are worth emphasizing, especially in the context of the already mentioned ri-
valry between this centre and Arkona. This was due to a weaker position of
this type of twin characters in mythologies in comparison with the gods. Since
Rugievit was their sovereign, he would not share his authority with them and
instead he would keep all the power to himself. He thus became an alternative
to the omnipotent Svantevit.441 The choice of Rugievit with his military attri-
butes to be the duke’s patron shows the significance of military issues in the
legitimization of superior authority.
In this context such strong militarization of the pantheon in Radogošč would
indicate that in this stronghold there was not only a religious but also a po-
litical power centre of the federated Liutici. However, due to the fact that they
did not have one ruler controlling them, and at the same time the assembly
with significant contribution from the priests (the oracle) played the leading
role in governance,442 the collation with Arkona gains more significance in a
comparative analysis. The sovereign worshipped there also possessed military
attributes, related to the already mentioned symbolism of superior authority.
439 Jacek Banaszkiewicz, “Pan Rugii – Rugiewit i jego towarzysze z Gardźca: Porewit i
Porenut (Saxo Gramatyk, Gesta Danorum, XIV, 39, 38–41),” in Słowiańszczyzna w Europie
średniowiecznej. Księga pamiątkowa dla Lecha Leciejewicza, vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne
państwa, ed. Zofia Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 1996), pp. 75–82.
440 The positive character Porevit would find his antithesis in Porenut, which is supported
by the proposed etymology of ‘Porenut’ as one who ‘needs support’ derived from ‘-por’
(power) + ‘nud’ (like Old Polish meaning of “nuda” – boredom, German “Not” – need,
pressure), which puts him in opposition to ‘Porevit’ as the ‘Lord of power’. According to
Saxo Grammaticus (XIV, 39, 41), both deities had five faces each, however, Porenut had
one face on his chest, which suggests his inferiority in comparison with Porevit, who had
all his faces on his head – see ibidem, p. 81.
441 Rugievit – being related to the ducal power alternative to Svantevit – was the god control-
ling the whole universum (he had seven faces, which symbolically shows the completeness
of his control, e.g. over the whole three-sector and four-direction cosmos), however –
as was mentioned by Banaszkiewicz, “Pan Rugii,” p. 81) – similarly to Thor or Perun, he
delegated some of his activities to other supernatural creatures. However, other gods were
not chosen, as this would deprive the sovereign of his omnicompetence, and dioskurs
were selected as they were less significant and yet more universal in their activity (usually
they would excel in the third function according to the Dumézil model).
442 See above, pp. 128 ff.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 141
443 The thesis results precisely from Thietmar’s record, however, one should remember
that in Adam of Bremen’s description of Rhetra, which is hypothetically identified with
Radogošč, one can observe premises indicating an urban and not only cult character of
this centre, see below, p. 223.
444 See below, p. 295.
445 Procházka, “Organisace,” p. 166, assumed that the presence of other Svantevit’s temples
in Rügen, mentioned by Saxo Grammaticus, meant that there was a system of Arkona’s
filial sanctuaries. Procházka used the same expression to refer to the Liutici organisation,
where Svarožic was to have his filial temples in regions (regiones) or possibly local dei-
ties dominated by Svarožic were worshipped in them. However, even if one accepts this
hypothesis with reference to Rügen, treating it as an analogy to Liutici raises doubts due
to differences in the systems of the compared communities. In the case of the multi-tribal
Liutici structure, implementation of the centralist policy through Radogošč would be sig-
nificantly more difficult than in the case of Arkona in reference to one tribe, i.e. the Rans.
Moreover, an important mechanism in the unification of the cult system on the island, as-
sumed in this hypothesis, was to be the realisation of theocratic ambitions of Svantevit’s
priests competing with the ducal power. Meanwhile in the case of the Liutici Federation,
it is hard to speak about such strong centralisation of power over the whole society, hence
there was no social or political power able to conduct such a religious reform. However,
it is worth emphasizing that the very idea of claiming that Svantevit’s temples in Rügen
were subordinate to the major sanctuary in Arkona raises doubts: since the deity was the
major patron of the tribe, it could be worshipped in various parts of the island without
any top-down decision to introduce cult made by priests from the major temple.
142 Chapter 2
in view of the fragile basis of the thesis on formation of temples and idolatry
among the Polabian Slavs at the end of the 10th c. at the earliest.
It is hard to prove that the Liutici federation organization required a cen-
tralist religious system (imitating the church system).446 It seems more prob-
able that Radogošč, just like Arkona later, superseded other cult centres and
took the initiative in organizing anti-Christian resistance.447 Thus although
Radogošč was not the duke’s dwelling place or any other type of centre perma-
nently controlling the Liutici, it was a place where the most important political
decisions related to them and sometimes also to their neighbours were made.
It is not surprising that this supra-tribal authority in Thietmar’s perspective
was called “principalis monarchia”. It should be emphasized, however, that the
chronicler interpreted this situation in a very special way by reducing it only to
a strictly religious sphere, presented from the perspective of theological evalu-
ation of paganism, which resulted in a schematic picture of all temples domi-
nated by Radogošč and the cults followed in them as a reality of idolatry and
demons related to idols without any local nuances.
446 Which clearly results from Adam of Bremen’s chronicle – see below, p. 225.
447 However, from the perspective of a few centuries these were only ephemerides, which
could not face the power of new ideological (Christian) systems becoming increasingly
stronger in the whole of Central Europe. Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 193. Cf. Gerard Labuda,
“Wytworzenie się wspólnoty etnicznej i kulturalnej plemion Słowiańszczyzny Połabskiej
i jej przemiany w rozwoju dziejowym,” in Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami
a Polską. Materiały z konferencji naukowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w
dniach 28–29 IV 1980 r., ed. Jerzy Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), pp. 21 f.
448 According to this passage there was no single ruler above them and no single method
used by them to reach a joint agreement during the assembly, which was their basic organ
of power. For more information see, e.g. Modzelewski, Barbarzyńska Europa, pp. 364 f.;
see also Boroń, Słowiańskie wiece, passim.
449 Thietmar VI, 25: “Pacem abraso crine supremo et cum gramine datisque affirmant dextris.”
450 Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Rechtsalterthümer, 4th ed., Leipzig 1899, pp. 154–157, 191, 201–202,
established that the right hand was a symbol of power (for the Slavs and Germans), and
shaking hands meant strengthening the agreement by joining the power of both sides for
better guarantee. On the other hand, handing over a wisp of hair was to mean readiness
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 143
for slavery because of not performing an agreement, while the ritual handing over of grass
from a battlefield was a sign of readiness to give the victor one’s territory. Cf. M.Z. Jedlicki
in: Thietmar VI, 25, p. 351, footnote 126.
451 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 269.
452 Ibidem, p. 149.
453 The reference to Veles (or turn to non-personified underworld spheres) as a guarantee of
oaths remains in agreement with A. Brückner’s opinion that the Slavs did not take oaths
to the Sun like other peoples – see ibidem, pp. 145, 269.
454 See below, pp. 354 f.
455 Saxo XIV, 25, 2; cf. Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 145.
144 Chapter 2
his view of the exceptional perversity of the Liutici. This is clearly confirmed in
the introductory sentence to the description of the discussed ritual, especially
in the context of the information about the ease with which pagans would go
back on their word to fulfil an agreement because of corruption: “Although
infidels and unstable themselves, of others they demand stable and durable
faithfulness.”456
456 Thietmar VI, 25: “Infideles ipsi et mutabiles ipsi inmutabilitatem ac magnam exigunt ab
aliis fidem”. In accordance with this opinion of the chronicler Kiersnowska, Kiersnowski,
Życie codzienne, p. 152, emphasize that oath guarantees were not treated seriously; be-
guiling enemies was an ordinary military procedure and the one who was deceived was
considered a fool.
457 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 254; cf. Thietmar VI, 25: “Hii milites, quon-
dam servi nostrisque iniquitatibus tunc liberi, tali comitatu ad regem auxiliandum pro-
ficiscuntur. Eorum cum cultu consorcia, lector, fugias, divinarum mandata scripturarum
auscultando adimple: et fidem, quam Athanasius profitebatur episcopus, dicens memo-
riterque retinens, haec, quae supra memoravi, nil esse probabis veraciter.” See also Goetz,
Die Wahrnehmung, p. 229.
458 Similarly to attributing the “illiterate” (inlitterati) the conviction that everything ends
with worldly death, see above p. 59 ff.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 145
An echo of the bishop’s tirade condemning the idolatry of the Liutici still
resounds after this digression in a newly started description of a march of the
German and Liutici army. Thietmar emphasizes that in a camp on the Bóbr
(Pober) River there were even “under uneven leaders the unequal troops.”459
This stress on inequality between leaders and the troops must be the result of
an earlier juxtaposition of paganism and Christianity.460 Thus the chronicler
refers to the fact that the covenant between Henry II and the Liutici resulted
in a worldview conflict in the Saxon environment. Although there are no words
so typical of St. Bruno of Querfurt about the community between Christ and
Belial, the theology in the assessment of these events is the same.461
459 Thietmar VI, 26: “inparibus ducibus inequales turmae”. Jedlicki’s suggestion (ibidem,
footnote 129) that this expression emphasizes that the troops progressed under various
leaderships – i.e. with Christian and pagan emblems, seems disputable in a literal sense.
It is also possible to take into account the antithesis of Christ/St. Maurice and gods, or
“get back on earth” and indicate a lack of equality in the commands of both allied armies
(such assessment would definitely be burdened with religious and cultural issues).
460 Quite a common view – see Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 197.
461 About St. Bruno’s letter, see above, pp. 107 f.; cf. Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 134.
However, the thesis that the alliance between the Empire and the Liutici “meant formal
equality of the religion of the Polabian Slavs” (see: Piotr Bogdanowicz, “Zjazd gnieźnieński
w roku 1000,” Nasza Przeszłość 16 (1962), p. 135) should be considered as exaggerated.
462 Thietmar VI, 37: “predicacione assidua comissos a vana superstitione erroris reduxit,
lucumque Zutibure dictum, ab accolis ut Deum in omnibus honoratum et ab evo antiquo
numquam violatum, radicitus eruens, sancto martiri Romano in eo ecclesiam construxit.”
146 Chapter 2
The name used to refer to the grove Zutibure is jointly translated by scholars
as “Święty Bór” (“Holy Forest”).463 This etymologically proves that one deals
here with a coniferous forest, resinous, or potentially a wetland (peloids).464 In
Polish folklore there is a forest demon called ‘borowiec’, ‘borowy’, or ‘boruta,’465
which allowed Leszk P. Słupecki to emphasize the demonic trace of the very
name ‘bór.’466 The word “święty” (‘holy’) originally had a wider semantic range
identified with force, power, and also sacral power.467
According to M.Z. Jedlicki there was a statue or a temple from which divin-
ity radiated in the surrounding grove.468 This speculation does not seem nec-
essary given the possibility of directly personifying the sacrum in elements of
nature, among which the tree is deeply rooted in the mythology of numerous
peoples.469 For the tree was not to be worshipped, but rather the sacral reality
symbolized by it.470 According to L. Moszyński it was a hypothetical, primor-
dial god of the Old Slavs, the alleged svętъ Bogъ (Holy God), and the name of
the grove turns out to be a typical example of metonymy: svętъ borъ (“holy
grove”) occurs instead of borъ svętajego Boga (“forest or grove of the holy God”).
Even distancing oneself from the idea of the Old Slavic only god, it is worth not
excluding from the field of hypotheses an interpretation of the name of this
place based on substitution of the original sacral name.471
No information about the destruction of the statue or the temple in the holy
grove of the Chutici was used by H. Łowmiański to support the thesis of the
complete absence of such objects in southern Polabia.472 The effectiveness
of his arguments are diminished by the fact that the Zutibure cult was com-
pleted at the time of Christianization, so it is hard to support the opinion that
possible temple institutions or tribal nature could survive until these times.
473 M.Z. Jedlicki, see Thietmar, p. 369, footnote 191; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries,
p. 161; L. Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” p. 128; Die Slawen in Deutschland, p. 310.
474 Thietmar I, 2, p. 5.
475 Banaszkiewicz, Polskie dzieje, pp. 421f.
476 E.g. Tyszkiewicz, “Podziały plemienne,” p. 128.
477 Thietmar VI, 37.
148 Chapter 2
between the worship of the holy grove and the cult of God in Christianity.478
However, on the other hand, one should take into account the strong attrac-
tiveness of hierophany in the form of a grove for the Slavs.479
The attachment of the Slavs to open cult spaces could be based on archaic
Indo-European convictions, such as those mentioned by Tacitus with refer-
ence to the Germans. They were to think that it is not appropriate to close
divine entities in temple walls.480 If the Slavs shared this opinion, then the
appearance of a new social and mythological impulse in the genesis of
their temples should be appreciated.481 Thus, maintaining archaic forms of
open cult spaces did not necessarily have to mean an evolutionarily lower –
pre-polytheistic – phase of religiosity. It does certainly support the thesis that
a variety of cultic modes were in place. This was even observed by Helmold
(I, 52) a century and a half later.
478 There are more examples of similar continuation of using a cult place from pre-Christian
times by erecting a church in the Polabian and Pomeranian Slavdom. In the light of ex-
cavation work in Starigard/Oldenburg on the Wagrian land, such were vicissitudes of the
cult place from the 8th/9th c. to the 10th/11th c.: first halls were placed there, they were
used for representative and sacral functions; after a duke’s baptism, they were replaced
with a church which was probably demolished by rebelled Slavs and later an idol was
placed there under the open sky, it was a place for making offerings, see below, p. 333,
footnote 349, and also Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 108 f.; Strzelczyk, Mity,
p. 211; Padberg, Die Christianisierung, p. 182. The very idea to replace cult objects with each
other partly reminds about the recommendations of pope Gregory the Great (d. 604) to
adapt pagan temples for the needs of the newly introduced Christianity (see Gregorius
Melito Abbati in Franciis, in: Gregorii I papae Registrum epistolarum, vol. 2: Libri VIII–
XIV, ed. Ludwig M. Hartmann, MGH Epp 2 (1899), XI, 56, p. 331; cf. e.g. Bolesław Kumor,
“Praktyka misyjna Kościoła w X w.,” Nasza Przeszłość 69 (1988), p. 23). For discussion on
this matter see e.g. Sikorski, Kościół w Polsce, pp. 78 ff.
479 S. Urbańczyk ascertained that until the late, decadent phase of the pre-Christian epoch,
the Slavs used rather archaic groves as the main places to make offerings and worship
gods; groves had the same role for them as churches for Christians. This is why when
sources mention temples, they can mean cult groves – see: Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
pp. 121, 137, 160. However, at the current stage of research there are no reasons to doubt the
existence of Slavic temples in the times when their written confirmations were created,
hence the idea that holy groves were confused with a temple does not seem sufficiently
justified.
480 Tacitus, Germania, 10 (p. 12); cf. Jerzy Gąssowski, “Kult religijny,” in Mały słownik kultury
dawnych Słowian, ed. Lech Leciejewicz (Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna, 1988), p. 578.
481 The problem deserves further discussion, see p. 175.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 149
2.8 The Third War between Henry II and Boleslav the Brave: Ślęża
Mountain and the Liutici Goddesses
A description of the third stage of the struggle between Henry II and Boleslav
the Brave brings a digression about the cult of Ślęża Mountain (718 msl). It re-
turns to the motif of the German-Liutici alliance, in which the non-Christian
religion becomes a component of complex political reality.482 In the presen-
tation of military actions in 1017, Thietmar mentions that the imperial army
reached the castle town of Niemcza (Germ. Nimptsch), about which he said:
“For it is situated in the Silensi land, whose name was given after some very
high and grand mountain; due to its quality [i.e. attributes, character] and
magnitude, when cursed paganism was venerated here, the mountain was
highly worshipped by the inhabitants.”483
The literature connected with the “Silesian Olympus” – raised about half
a kilometre above the surrounding plane – is very rich,484 and archaeologi-
cal work can still bring unexpected revelations, which can be proven by re-
sults of the last decades.485 There are also other cult places of this type in
the Western Slavdom,486 which makes Ślęża less exceptional than some ear-
lier scholars wanted to admit. This mountain or possibly also its whole mas-
sif 487 was treated as a mythical centre of the country, which is indicated in
482 See e.g. Lübke, Fremde, p. 276, and above pp. 107 f.
483 Thietmar VII, 59: “Posita est autem haec in Pago Silensi, vocabulo hoc a quodam monte
nimis excelso et grandi olim sibi indito; et hic ob qualitatem suam et quantitatem, cum
execranda gentilitas ibi veneraretur, ab incolis omnibus nimis honorabatur.”
484 For extensive scientific discussion on the prehistoric and early Medieval past of Ślęża see
Wacław Korta, Tajemnice góry Ślęży (Katowice: Śląski Instytut Naukowy, 1988). See also
Marta Młynarska-Kaletynowa, “Ślęża (2),” in SSS, vol. 5, pp. 564–566; Lech Leciejewicz,
“>>In Pago,” passim; Słupecki, “Ślęza,” Kwartalnik Historyczny 99 (1992) 2, pp. 3–15; idem,
Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 172–176; Andrzej Mierzwiński, Ślężańska układanka
(Wrocław: Chronicon, 2007); Stanisław Rosik, “Mons Silensis – axis mundi. Góra Ślęża
między historią a fenomenologią,” in Sacrum pogańskie – sacrum chrześcijańskie.
Kontynuacja miejsc kultu we wczesnośredniowiecznej Europie Środkowej, ed. Krzysztof
Bracha, Czesław Hadamik (Warszawa: DiG, 2010), pp. 179–192. See also footnotes 485 and
509 in this chapter.
485 Grzegorz Domański, Ślęża w pradziejach i średniowieczu (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 2002).
486 Cosmas (I, 4) provides general information on the cult of mountains and hills among
Czech peasants. The main analogy to the Ślęża cult, albeit controversial in terms of de-
tailed findings, is Łysiec in the Świętokrzyskie Mountains.
487 Sacral significance of neighbouring peaks: Wieżyca and Radunia supports location of cult
circles there – Bogusław Gediga, Śladami religii Prasłowian (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1976)
p. 145.
150 Chapter 2
the connection between its name and the ethonym of Ślężanie (Silensi).488
Similar to Thietmar’s information about the Glomače (see above) bearing the
name of their holy spring, the land of the Silensi also received its name after
a holy place. However, an alternative idea about the etymology of the Silensi
land has strong premises in historical science, namely that the name comes
from the Ślęza River,489 or possibly the general characteristics of this wet and
marshy land.490
Thietmar’s work is not enough to solve this controversy, because he cre-
ated it at the time when this mountain and river had an eponimic name for
the Ślężanie,491 and their name was written as Sleenzane as early as the mid-
9th c. (or the beginning of the 10th c.) in the so called Bavarian Geographer.492
488 See e.g. Stanisław Rospond, “Ślężanie,” in SSS, vol. 5, pp. 566 f.; Słupecki, “Ślęza,” pp. 13 f.;
cf. idem, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 172 ff.; Dušan Třeštik, Mýty kmene Čechů (7.–10.
století) (Praha: Nakladatelství Lidové nowiny, 2003), p. 76. For a critical discussion of this
matter see: Rosik, Mons Silensis – axis mundi, p. 183–185.
489 Jürgen Udolph, “Der Name Schlesiens,” Jahrbuch der schlesischen Friedrich-Wilhelm-
Universität zu Breslau 38/39 (1997–1998), pp. 15–18.
490 Rosik, “The formation,” pp. 55–61.
491 Thietmar did not explicitly mention the name of the mountain, which is known from
the sources from the 12th c. – see e.g. Codex Diplomaticus nec non epistolaris Silesiae,
vol. 1: 971–1204, ed. Karol Maleczyński (Wrocław: Wrocławskie Towarzystwo Miłośników
Historii, 1951), No. 22, p. 54: Mons Silencij.
492 D escriptio civitatum et regionum ad septentrionalem plagam Danubii, ed. Bohuslav
Horák, Dušan Trávniček, in iidem, Descriptio civitatum et regionum ad septentrion-
alem plagam Danubii (t. zv. Bavorský geograf ), “Rozpravy Československé Akademie
Vĕd” 66 (1956) 2, pp. 2–3; about Bavarian Geographer see: Henryk Łowmiański, “O
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 151
Therefore the very naming of the land surrounding the mountain took place
in times immemorial even for Thietmar and, similarly to contemporary his-
torians, he was doomed to validate his own speculations; one should also re-
member, that his etymologies in their scholarliness did not deviate from other
similar attempts in his epoch. It was essentially guesswork based on associa-
tions of names and observations of the current state of affairs.493
Thietmar gives particular reasons, for which the mountain was to be
worshipped: the original ones were granditas and qualitas, magnitude and
“quality” – certainly the height – which provided inspiration for religious
experience. These qualities made Ślęża a natural hierophany. In the case of
Thietmar’s narration there is striking emphasis on these features.494 The quali-
ties of the peak allowed for an analogy to the biblical formulae of describing
holy mountains.495 Thus the question arises whether in the explanation of the
reasons for the Ślęża cult the chronicler referred to any native Slavic tradition
or whether he based it on universal views functioning until today.496
The question of whether Ślęża was worshipped like gods (i.e. anthropomor-
phised creatures) cannot be solved. The vocabulary used by Thietmar suggests,
however, that there was a difference, since in relation to statues he uses the
verb colere. This does not undermine the rank of the cult of this mountain with
reference to idols, which is supported by the fact that in the above discussed
passage on the Holy Grove (Zutibure) the same verb was used as in the case
of Ślęża only with a comment – which is essential – that this grove was “ut
Deus (…) honoratus.” Similarly to the case of Svarožic in Radogošč, the words
“honoratur et colitur” are used.497 Thus the tenor of his message supports the
view that the mountain was deified, however, it is hard to state definitively
the extent to which it was an expression of the theological interpretation
of the pagan sacrum, or how it referred to the attitude of Ślęża worshippers.
It is worth remembering – as a comparative premise – that Cosmas of Prague
attributed the making of offerings to mountains and hills to Czech peasants
even in the 12th c.498 This is a geographically close confirmation of Thietmar’s
information about worshipping the mountain as such by the Slavic people.
This statement is supported by the findings of phenomenological religious
studies.499 In this case, on the other hand, the hypothesis of an addressed
preexisting cult dedicated to the mountain itself is becoming more and more
probable in the light of anthropological and religious conceptions developed
in the recent years, especially in the context of the research on local societ-
ies. They highlight the fact that, within the scope of interpretation of people’s
attitudes towards the sacred objects, that the justified is a resignation from a
model that implies a sharp dichotomy between the material and the immate-
rial, and an appreciation of materiality as a basic way of defining the presence
of a supernatural or mystical element while simultaneously a resignation from
treating the material sphere as just a sign.500
496 An extreme conjecture that Thietmar devised the very fact of the mountain cult on the
basis of an association of the name of the country and the mountains seems improbable,
taking into account that he wrote in and for the environment in which it was not difficult
to verify this information.
497 See above, p. 106.
498 Cosmas I, 4: “ille montibus sive collibus litat.”
499 E.g. Tomasz Węcławski, Wspólny świat religii (Kraków: Znak, 1995), p. 67.
500 These observations are also worth applying to interpretation of other objects of Slavic
cult, described by Thietmar as for example dii manu facti (“hand-made gods”) in
Radgoszcz or the banners called goddesses (see above, p. 105, and under p. 157). For the
“material turn” in the anthropological and religious studies see among others: Daniel
Miller, “Materiality: An Introduction,” in Materiality, ed. Daniel Miller (Durham/London:
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 153
The hypothetical conclusion that Ślęża was a mythical centre of the ec-
umene favours using the idea of axis mundi in interpretation. The peaks of
mountains are sometimes drowned in clouds, resulting in the perception of a
cosmic mountain that combines the three spheres of the world: heaven, earth
and underworld. Furthermore, the fact that not only Ślęża, but also the second
and third highest mountains in the same massif are surrounded by stone walls,
was considered to be evidence of its prehistoric cult. This fosters an associa-
tion that this phenomenon of the landscape was the mythical mountain of the
Slavs, i.e. Triglav, whose three tops correspond with the aforementioned three
sectors of the cosmos.501
However, in the case of Ślęża there are no traces of a pre-Christian mythol-
ogy in medieval sources that would resemble the motifs similar to those re-
lated to Triglav in Slovenia. Only in some medieval legends it is confirmed that
it was treated as an exceptional place: the beginnings of an important abbey in
Wrocław were associated with it, namely the Regular Canons on Piasek Island
(Germ. Sandinsel),502 or even the Piast dynasty itself. It was a tradition cre-
ated in the Late Middle Ages and related to its Silesian branch. For Ślęża was
perceived as the “Silesian Mountain,” even in the 16th c., although then another
name became common as it was related to the town of Sobótka,503 located at
the foot of the mountain (German: Zobtenberg, Polish: Sobótka). The current
name of the mountain, “Ślęża,” was officially introduced after Lower Silesia
Duke University Press Books, 2005), pp. 1–50; Matthew Engelke, “Material Religion,” in
The Cambridge Companion to Religious Studies, ed. Robert A. Orsi (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 2012), pp. 209–229; Richard M. Carp, “Material Culture,” in The Routledge
Handbook of Research Methods in the Study of Religion, ed. Michael Stausberg, Steven
Engler (London: Routledge, 2014), pp. 474–490.
501 The second highest mountain top, Radunia, on which remnants of a burial ground from the
times of the Lusatian culture were found, was associated with the underworld sphere, the
world of the dead, by Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 175 f. However, it is hard
to speak here about any continuity of this phenomenon until the times of Ślężanie (the
burial ground attributed to them is located at the foot of Ślęża near the village Będkowice),
Domański, Ślęża w pradziejach, p. 102.
502 Ślęża was the place where according to legendary tradition the convent of regular canons
from Wrocław was originally located at the beginning of the 12th c., however, the only
certain thing is the existence of its prepositure at the foot of the mountain. Passing the
ownership of the Ślęża Massif to the monks is interpreted as striving for elimination of
the relics of the native cult (e.g. Korta, Tajemnice, pp. 303 f.); this conjecture does not have
any confirmation in sources.
503 The town was named after Saturday (Polish “sobota”), most likely because it was a fair day
in this place. In the case of Radunia, L.P. Słupecki (Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 175 f.)
referred to the relation between its name and “Radunitsa”, i.e. East Slavic rites performed
to worship the dead.
154 Chapter 2
504 It is worth emphasizing that on the Lusati-Veleti border an analogous name of a mountain
appeared: Zlensgor, confirmed already in the 12th c. The name can be derived from ‘*slęg-’ –
‘damp’, ‘wet’, and specifically from ponds surrounding this mountain (there is no river
nearby); see: Jerzy Nalepa, “Ślęża Góra na pograniczu wielecko – łużyckim,” Onomastica
2 (1956), pp. 318–322.
505 E.g. Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Plemiona słowiańskie we wczesnym średniowieczu,” in
Słowiańszczyzna w Europie średniowiecznej Księga pamiątkowa dla Lecha Leciejewicza,
vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne państwa, ed. Zofia Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE PAN, 1996),
pp. 51 f.
506 E.g. Słupecki, “Ślęza,” p. 14.
507 Rosik, “The formation,” pp. 50 f.
508 They have fascinated scholars for over three centuries, see: Gottfried Heinrich Burghart,
Iter Sabothicum. Ausführliche Beschreibung einiger An. 1773 und die folgenden Jahre
auf den Zobten = Berg gethanen Reißen / Wodurch sowohl Die natürliche als historische
Beschaffenheit Dieses In Schlesien so bekannten und Berühmten Berges Der Welt vor Augen
geleget wird, Mit Kupffern (Breslau/Leipzig: Michael Hubert, 1736) as they are an insepa-
rable element of the discussion on the mythical significance of Ślęża in the 19th–21st c.
509 E.g. Bogusław Gediga, “Monumentalna rzeźba >>mnicha<< ślężańskiego w świetle >>sz-
tuki situl<<,” in Problemy epoki brązu i wczesnej epoki żelaza w Europie Środkowej. Księga
jubileuszowa poświęcona Markowi Gedlowi w sześćdziesiątą rocznicę urodzin i czterdzi-
estolecie pracy w Uniwersytecie Jagiellońskim. ed. Jan Chochorowski (Kraków: Oficyna
Cracovia, 1996), pp. 187–201; Domański, Ślęża, p. 92. Even if this identification is right, it is
worth emphasizing that the crosses carved in them were earlier interpreted as solar cult
signs while at the current stage of research they are considered border marks. They were
carved most probably in the 12th–13th c. in connection with the division of the territorial
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 155
marked by the continuity of the cult. However, it is possible that these ancient
sculptures were found and adapted by Slavs to their cult. The chance that the
same had occurred with their German predecessors should also not be exclud-
ed. Nevertheless, these conjectures cannot be verified.
However, it is worth emphasizing that the very occurrence of cult objects
on the mountain is not necessary to state that the mountain was worshipped.
Certainly, their presence can indicate that it was treated as a holy place, yet in
the case of Ślężanie one should first take into account the cult of the mountain
itself. It is possible that the cultic objects and idols related to it would make
another branch of their religious system.510 In the context of the aforemen-
tioned information provided by Cosmas of Prague in the 12th c. referring to
neighbouring Bohemia, which had been Christianized earlier, it is hard to sup-
pose that the cult of Ślęża mountain, in the times of Boleslav the Brave nearly
a century earlier, disappeared. However, Thietmar’s narration indicates that
this is exactly what happened, which is explained by the fact that he consid-
ered this country as Christianized at the moment it was encompassed by the
diocese network as a part of a Christian monarchy, and at the same time he
concentrated on the fate of the milieu strictly connected to the ruling elite of
the Piast monarchy.511
The etymology of the name of this land, derived from the cult mountain,
amplifies the role of paganism in its past, which will collide in the next verses
with the heroic and manifestly Christian attitude of the defenders of Niemcza
located nearby, who put a cross forward against the attacking pagans.512 It
seems significant that nearby in the text there is information that Niemcza was
ownership of the Ślęża Massif between the Canon Regular Abbey in Wrocław and the
duke of Silesia, see: Korta, Tajemnice, pp. 193–233, 343 f.
510 Over twenty years ago on the Ślęża slope near the village – Będkowice, relics of a building
related to Ślężanie were discovered near a small pond. The object is hypothetically inter-
preted as a sanctuary (like the one in Radogošč), see: Domański, Ślęża, p. 103.
511 A common view on Thietmar holds that he wrote about the cult related to Ślęża as if it
was contemporary to the events of 1017. It was supported by a mistake in this place of the
Polish translation of his chronicle (from 1953), which states that the mountain was wor-
shipped due to its magnitude and predestination, as pagan rites were performed there.
However, the text does not mention the “predestination” of the mountain for practicing
cult there; yet Thietmar states that this cult of the mountain took place “there” (ibi), most
certainly “in pago Silensi”, where in the past (as it is indicated at least by the form of the
verb veneraretur / “was venerated” together with “posita est” / “it is situated”) the “damned
paganism”. Therefore the conviction that Thietmar’s record expressis verbis confirms per-
forming pagan rites on the mountain or, going even further in these speculations, the
existence of a sanctuary there (e.g. Domański, Ślęża, pp. 103 f.), seems not well justified.
512 Thietmar VII, 60: “Ex parte gentili crucem sanctam erigebant eiusdem auxilio hos vinci
sperababant” (cf. trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 350: “Against of the pagans
they erected the holy cross, hoping to conquer them with its help”).
156 Chapter 2
figure 4 The so-called “bear”, ancient sculpture from around Strzegomiany near Mount
Slęża (now at the top of the mountain)
Stanisław Rosik
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 157
assume that the chronicler had some specific information about worshipping
goddesses by the Liutici.519
Thietmar, although he mentioned their existence twice, did not go any
further in his description to express condemnation for paganism explicitly.
However, the very fact that he mentioned an attack on Liutici sacred objects is
a form of rehabilitation of the German reputation, because it shows that the
alliance with the “infidels” was not positively accepted by particular subjects
of the emperor. Similarly, the information about the loss of the military banner
and fifty excellent Liutici soldiers in the currents of the Mulda River introduces
a pessimistic note to the narrative, and the very event could be interpreted as
a twist of fate indicating the adversity of Providence. The chronicler’s modera-
tion in showing antipathy towards pagans somehow corresponds with a com-
mentary to the last of these events; namely that some Liutici, perceiving the
loss of the goddess and soldiers as bad fate, wanted to withdraw from the alli-
ance with Henry II to which they were encouraged by “bad” people (“malorum
instinctu”).520 Using the word “bad” to refer to this type of instigators clarifies
the chronicler’s position in this matter: loyalty to the emperor is his priority,
even if his political line is offensive in the religious sphere.
The chronicler did not hesitate to show in an appropriate selection of
the presented events (destruction of the Liutici goddesses) that the Liutici
remained Christ’s enemies, however – given their alliance with the emperor –
he did not say it directly. It is important that in a wider context of the descrip-
tion of this war, the emperor and his allies do not enjoy Christ’s grace. In the
light of Thietmar’s narration, that is given to the Polish side. It seems that
emphasis on the fact that Boleslav, after the imperial forces withdrew from
519 L.P. Słupecki (“Archaeological Sources,” p. 356) in the discussion on the Liutici goddesses
referred to the figure of the so called twins from Fischerinsel, well-known from excava-
tions. This author considered this image as a presentation of the Dioskouri creatures
and emphasized that among Indo-European peoples they were accompanied exactly
by female deities. Such archaic origin of female deities was opposed by L. Moszyński
(“Staropołabski teonim,” p. 39), who claimed that “in the Old Slavic language there was
no original feminine formation ending with -a such as Latin dea, Greek θεα.” The forma-
tion bogyńi is relatively new. The author considered the appearance of these goddesses a
Christian influence (cult of Mother of God) on Slavic beliefs. However, one should take
into account that a cult of particular deities, which gained feminine features, superseded
the appearance of a general term defining them. Hence one should not exclude the shap-
ing of goddesses’ cult in the Slavic environment without the inspiration of Christian be-
liefs. However, taking into account the current state of the discussion on the ethnogenesis
of the Slavs, thus a possibility that this ethnos was formed later than it was assumed in
the model 20th-century concept of the Early Slavs, it is also hard to use the Pre-Slavic
language as a strong argument in this debate.
520 Thietmar VII, 64.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 159
Niemcza, “rejoiced in Lord and shared his earthly happiness with his soldiers,”
is not accidental.521 Joy “in the Lord”, which was assigned to him shows which
side was taken by Christ in this case.522 The emperor himself and his people
do not represent evil powers here (only the Liutici do523), yet they suffered
tremendous losses, in which the chronicler perceives consequences of their
earlier faults.524
One can only speculate whether the said crime (crimen) was exactly this
alliance with the Liutici. Nevertheless, it can be observed that the chronicler
at best painfully accepted the necessity of this alliance. He emphasized the
unwillingness of the Saxons to tolerate Slavic idols, and at the same time highly
assessed the attitude of Boleslav’s people in the religious dimension, at the
time of their fight with the Liutici. Remembering his earlier regrets about the
German-Liutici alliance,525 one can assume that at least to some extent
he shared the view so clearly expressed in the Letter of Bruno of Querfurt
to King Henry II on the iniquity of his cooperation with pagans against the
Christian neighbour. Taking into account earlier information from Thietmar
about Boleslav the Brave, one should emphasize a distinct softening of the
chronicler’s opinion about this character.
It is possible that it happened partly under the influence of current events,
such as the end of the conflict between Boleslav and the empire, sealed with
the peace treaty of Bautzen in January 1018 and his marriage with the Saxon
princess Oda.526 Nevertheless the fundamental significance of attributing the
“joy in the Lord” to the Polish ruler after saving Niemcza is the fact that he
belonged to the Christianitas community. Due to the offense of his opponents,
Boleslav gained the favour of the heavens, and this assessment corresponds
with a particular situation from the war theatre: these were his subjects to turn
out to be the vanquishers of pagans, whose idolatry was an exceptional spiri-
tual threat in the chronicler’s perspective. Such an attitude towards paganism
was an inalienable element of the system of values professed by the chronicler.
Hence, a possible change of the political situation does not necessarily have to
be taken into account in the explanation of his attitude to Boleslav, noticeable
in the light of this passage.
An additional bond between Thietmar’s Saxon environment and the com-
munity under Boleslav’s rule is built by the element of a common past: his
subjects defended the stronghold founded by “our people” according to the
chronicler. Hence his hostility toward paganism manifested in the discussed
passage makes him closer to Boleslav and his entourage in a context wider than
only the described events, namely in the community of religion and culture
(collective memory).527 So it is not surprising that the chronicler, presenting
the Liutici as the enemy of the holy cross during the military action, simulta-
neously distinguishes them clearly as “the pagan part” (pars gentilis). It can be
vividly said that “damned paganism” (“execranda gentilitas”), in the light of the
chronicle belonging to the past of the Silensi land, had returned thanks to the
allied forces of the Liutici and the emperor.528
527 In the context of these observations it seems to lopsided to claim that in Thietmar’s imag-
ination the borderline between the Christian circle (Christianitas) and the pagan North
and Eastern Europe, in the confines of which there would be Slavdom, including Poland
and Rus’, was of fundamental significance. This was the ascertainment of Fraesdorff, Der
barbarische Norden, pp. 141 f., who argued that both countries were located in this zone
by referring to Thietmar’s information about the conflict between Boleslav the Brave
and Vladimir the Great. According to this scholar the chronicler exhorted the “whole
Christianity” to pray for the end of exactly this war. This view seems questionable be-
cause the conflict for whose ending omnis christianitas was to pray, was a civil war in Rus’
fought for the heritage of the deceased Vladimir (it is indicated by additional quotation
of the biblical phrase of the divided kingdom, cf. Lk 11:17). The conflict was related to
Poland only indirectly, and also in the light of the above analyses of the description of
the events “in pago Silensi” in 1017, it is hard to consider Boleslav’s monarchy a part of the
one – alternative to Christianitas – zone encompassing also Rus’ (in the opinion of the
chronicler after all also a Christian one), and even more so the pagan North. In the case of
Thietmar’s work >>the presented world<< is more complex than the said model assumed
it to be.
528 In the light of the said terminology – gentilitas and pars gentilis – the Liutici even being
apostates were still called gentiles, which contradicts the thesis (se e.g. by Fraesdorff, Der
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 161
2.9 Hennil
Thietmar, in a digression about his homeland, complained that its inhabitants
seldomly attended churches and did not care about visiting their priests, yet
they worshiped house deities with offerings, and depended strongly on their
support.529 An example of such a deity was Hennil, whom the chronicler as-
sociated with a cult object, namely a shepherd’s staff (baculum) bearing this
name, at the end of which there was a hand holding an iron ring. A shepherd
would go around houses with it greeting those who opened the door and say-
ing: “Watch out, Hennil, watch out!” to receive a small treat in return.530
The goal of this folk ritual was to ensure divine care. However, somehow de-
fiantly, the story about Hennil in a wider context proves that hostile supernatu-
ral phenomena occur precisely because of these kind of practices. The idolatry
of the local people contributed to manifestations of spectres, bogeys, or any
other evil powers led by the “enemy” (Satan) in this area.531 Thus, this time the
motif of a spiritual threat caused by idolatry was not directly connected with
the activity of evil powers in a cultic place or sanctuary, but in a wider territo-
rial and social dimension.
The chronicler castigated Hennil’s cult, quoting verses from the Psalms to
prove its stupidity: “The idols of the heathens are the works of men, and so
on … Similar to those are all who make and put their trust in them.”532 A refer-
ence to the authority of the written word remains in contrast to an attribution
of the condemned ritual to uneducated peasants. The chronicler emphasizes
that Hennil’s help was summoned using rustica lingua.533 A biblical concept of
pagan divinity, understood as a creation of human hands, was used in this case
barbarische Norden, pp. 229 ff.; Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, pp. 58 f.) that Thietmar used
this expression only to refer to believers of original paganism, none apostates.
529 Thietmar VII, 69: “domesticos colunt deos multumque sibi prodesse eosdem sperantes
hiis inmolant”.
530 Ibidem: “… in cuius sumitate manus erat unum in se ferreum tenens circulum, quod cum
pastore illius villae, in quo is fuerat, per omnes domos has singulariter ductus, in primo
introitu a portitore suo sic salutaretur: ‘Vigila, Hennil, vigila!’ – sic enim rustica vocabatur
lingua –; et epulantes ibi delicate”.
531 Ibidem. An example of these phenomena is a story of a certain woman from Thietmar VII,
68.
532 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 356; cf. Thietnar VII, 69: “Simulacra gentium
opera hominum et caetera. Similes illis fiant facientes ea et confidentes hiis”. Cf. Vulgate,
Ps 113:12,16.
533 Thietmar VII, 69. In the discussed passage, yet another time on the pages of Thietmar’s
chronicle, it is possible to find juxtapositions of the culture of literate and illiterate
people.
162 Chapter 2
to categorize a religious phenomenon not from the native Slavic circle, but
occurring in the environment already encompassed by (a not very efficient)
Christian ministry, but practicing, de facto, dual faith.
A supposition that Thietmar meant Slavs as worshipers of Hennil was the
cutting edge of research on their mythology in the 19th c.534 However, since
the time when Aleksander Brückner criticized this position,535 there remains
skepticism towards this line of inquiry. Regardless of the decision of whether
Hennil’s worshippers were Slavic or Saxon people, the usefulness of this infor-
mation for further research on paganism is undisputable.
A popular view holds that the deity called Hennil did not exist at all, and
in reality Thietmar’s information refers only to an ordinary shepherd stick
used in some kind of ritual, which was wrongly and precipitately taken for
a deity by the chronicler.536 However, this definition of the problem raises a
doubt even in its assumption, because it does not take into account the specif-
ics of Thietmar’s interpretation of idolatry, namely the fact that he regularly
534 Adam Naruszewicz, Historia narodu polskiego, vol. 2 (Leipzig: Breitkopf & Hertel, 1836),
pp. 53 f., assumed that “Hennilus” was “Honiło” or “Gonidło” who was a god of guards. On
the other hand Teodor Narbutt, Dzieje starożytne narodu litewskiego, vol. 1: Mitologia lite-
wska (Vilnius: A. Marcinowski, 1835), pp. 110 f., referred to Lithuanian folklore on the basis
of Maciej Stryjkowski’s account (16th c.), to find in Hennil “Goniglis”, a deity of shepherds,
in whose name one can hear “gonić” (chase). In reference to these ideas Ignaz Johann
Hanusch, Die Wissenschaft des slavischen Mythus (Lemberg/Stanislawow/Tarnow: Johann
Milikowski, 1842), pp. 369 ff. assumed that the god mentioned by Thietmar was a tutelary
deity of shepherds among Czechs and Sorbs and was called Honidlo, Honilo, Gonidło (lit.
Goniglis’s counterpart) and was associated with a shepherd custom of going round hous-
es and giving gifts to one another. Then Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Mythologie, vol. 2 (Berlin:
Ferdinand Dümmlers Verlagsbuchhandlung, 1876), p. 625, derived the name Hennil from
Polish “hejnał” in the meaning of red sky in the morning and a song worshipping the ris-
ing sun. According to Theodor Siebs, “Beiträge zur deutschen Mythologie,” Zeitschrift für
Deustche Philologie 24 (1892), p. 148, Hennil is a dimunitive of Henno – god of death, and
later the waking light and spring (= Wodan). M.Z. Jedlicki in: Thietmar, p. 566 f., footnote
463, supported Hanusch and Grimm’s theses, however, this position was criticised (see foot-
note 535 in this chapter). Hennil’s place in the discussion on Slavic religion was solidified by
K.H. Meyer, who decided to include a reference to him in the basic collection of source
texts for research on Slavic religion (see Fontes historiae religionis Slavicae, pp. 11, 20). See
also Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 79.
535 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 191, rejected the ideas of the Lithuanian
Goniglis, Hungarian “hajnal” or “goniti-honiti” (‘chase’) – see above footnote 534 – assum-
ing that Hennil definitely was a German name. Hennil’s place in the Germanic mythology
was supported by Dziewulski, Postępy, p. 6, and also Łowmiański, Religia, p. 201, without
exceeding A. Brückner’s findings.
536 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 187; cf. idem, “Pseudobóstwa,” in SSS, vol. 4, pp. 405 f.;
Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 79.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 163
connects the notion of gods (dii) with material creations of human hands,
idols.537 A synonym for these “gods” is simulachra gentium called a human
work and evoked in the discussed passage after a verse from a psalm.538
It is worth adding that in the Old Testament descriptions of idolaters are
directly attributed to the worshipping of wood or a stick, hence Thietmar
had at his disposal theological arguments against narrowing the notion of
simulacrum to anthropomorphic representations.539 In the context of these
observations it should be stated that the presentation of Hennil as an object,
a material thing, is related to the specifics of the theological interpretation of
a particular cult object. In this situation the usefulness of the information dis-
cussed here in finding a solution to the problem of whether this name in the
environment of the worshippers of this idol referred to a spiritual creature, a
tutelary deity, or only a fetish, is significantly decreased.540 Thus, the realm of
hypothetical solutions to this riddle broadens.
The area left for speculations based on Thietmar’s record is narrowed when
the goal of assuming supernatural care from the described ritual is defined. Not
only the content of the wandering shepherd, but also the shape of the carried
cult object, indicate a reference to this kind of sacral power. The symbolism of
a stick, a hand and a ring are connected with providing care and protection.541
Therefore one can find an attribute of the tutelary deity called Hennil in this
set,542 or alternatively – taking into account the specifics of treatment of magic
objects – assume that the fetish was given a specific name.
As an analogy to the “house gods” mentioned by Thietmar, it is possible to
indicate penates mentioned by Helmold a century and a half later.543 In this
research perspective it should be assumed that Hennil’s cult did not have a
537 Hence there one should not speak here of a mistake, as Brückner wanted to, but as con-
scious treatment (on the basis of theological interpretation of sacral phenomena) of ma-
terial cult objects as pagan gods. For the matter of the term “dii manu facti”, see above,
p. 102.
538 Ps 138.
539 E.g. Hos 4:12.
540 Tadeusz Seweryn, “Figury kultowe,” in SSS, vol. 2, pp. 55 f., assumed that Hennil was a
tutelary fetish.
541 A shepherd’s staff and hand universally mean power and care, protection, see e.g. Forstner,
Świat, pp. 351ff.; in folk rituals a ring protected from diseases and various misfortunes (see
ibidem, p. 423). Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, p. 158, quoted comparative material from
folk culture to confirm this opinion, additionally he interpreted the stick and the ring as
attributes of underworld and moon divinities.
542 M .Z. Jedlicki in: Thietmar, p. 566, footnote 162.
543 E .g. Leciejewicz, Słowianie, pp. 91 f. Cf. Procházka, “Organisace,” p. 152; Gieysztor, Mitologia,
pp. 270 ff., especially 237 f.
164 Chapter 2
wide reach, but rather it was localized to the local population, and in the case
of the possible origin of this name from the name of some ancestor, a lack of its
clear etymology would not be surprising. Finally coming back to the assump-
tion that this “house god” was a pseudo-deity, it is worth considering – as an
alternative to considering it a fetish – Thietmar’s potential mistake in wrongly
assuming that the name “Hennil” was the theonym.
Leszek Moszyński proposed to find in it a diminutive form of the Old
German ‘hano’ or rooster, which, being a symbol of vigilance, would be called
in a spell used by the shepherd going from one house to another.544 On the
other hand, Gerard Labuda claims that the alleged theonym, theonym, was
in fact the greeting: “hey-no!” deformed in writing, which was used to remind
a host to be alert.545 Both of these quite recent concepts prove that for over
two centuries of debates aimed at solving Hennil’s puzzle, the most important
factor still remains scholars’ ingenuity – however, without much hope for a
trustworthy verification of its effects.
544 Leszek Moszyński, “Hennil Thietmara – apelatyw czy teonim, germański czy słowiański?,”
Onomastica Slavogermanica 22 (2002), p. 46.
545 Labuda, “O wierzeniach,” [2003], p. 51; [2012], p. 210.
546 T hietmar IV, 45.
547 In 1015 at the latest because he died before Vladimir’s death which is dated to this year.
548 Thiemar (VII, 72) about Reinbern: “Vigiliarum et abstinenciae ac silencii assiduitate
corpus suum affligens cor ad speculum divinae contemplacionis infixit”, and about
Bruno (ibidem VI, 94): “Dehinc ob lucrum animae laborem subiit diversae ac grandis
viae, castigans corpus inedia et crucians vigilia”; cf. Stanisław Rosik, “Reinbern – Salsae
Cholbergiensis ecclesiae episcopus,” in Salsa Cholbergiensis. Kołobrzeg w średniowieczu,
ed. Lech Leciejewicz, Marian Rębkowski (Kołobrzeg: Le petit Café, 2000), p. 86.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 165
This mortification of the flesh with fasting and sleeplessness of his char-
acters was explained by Thietmar by their involvement in the propagation of
Christianity. Although Reinbern – contrary to Bruno – acted in the area where
the diocese was legally established, he in fact had to eradicate native cults and
introduce Christianity starting from scratch, which is expressed by the chroni-
cler in a game of metaphors and symbols: “Destroying the shrines of idols he
burnt them and – after throwing four stones anointed with holy chrism into
the sea inhabited by demons and clearing it with holy water – for the glory of
the Almighty God he has planted a new sprout on a tree that had not brought
any fruit yet, that is, among an extremely foolish people he founded cultivation
of holy preaching [the word of God].”549
The succinctness of this reference does not facilitate determination of the
territorial reach of these activities. A detailed location of Reinbern’s abode –
associated with Kołobrzeg (Germ. Kolberg), or more precisely the salinas lo-
cated there – most certainly was not on the Baltic Sea but a few kilometres
away from the coast, most probably in the stronghold on the Parsęta River, in
today’s Budzistowo.550 The people entrusted to him lived in the Baltic part of
Boleslav the Brave’s dominion that stretched between the Vistula and the Oder.
However, Reinbern’s activity was most certainly focused on the local main cen-
tres as agencies of the Piast rule, and additionally it is hard to expect that it
549 Thietmar VII 72: “Fana idolorum destruens incedit et, mare demonibus cultum inmissis
quatuor lapidibus sacro crismate perunctis et aqua purgans benedicta, novam Domino
omnipotenti propaginem in infructuosa arbore, id est in populo nimis insulso sanctae
predicacionis plantationem eduxit”.
550
The occurrence of the quoted by Thietmar: “Salsa Cholbergiensis” in Annales
Magdeburgenses under the year 996 as Salzcolberch (see Annales Magdeburgenses, ed.
Georg Heinrich Pertz, MGH SS 16 (1859), p. 159), indicates that in the Saxon environment
the name of the bishop’s abode was connected with salt (Lat. salsa, German Salz) and
a mountain (German -berg). However, the 12th-century versions of the spelling of the
name Kolberg (e.g. Cholbreg, Colubrega) indicate that the this “-berg”/“-berch” conceal
the Slavic ‘brzeg’ (a coast), therefore in the term used by Thietmar to refer to the bish-
opric headquarters, it is most certainly possible to find “sól/solec koło brzegu” (“salt/
salted [place] near a coast”). Until the 12th c. this two-word toponym would have been
transformed into a one-barrelled name (which can be compared with the example
of Wieliczka in Małopolska, which initially also was made of two words: “Wielka Sól”
(Magnum Sal)) – see Lech Leciejewicz, “Kołobrzeg – siedziba biskupa Reinberna w 1000
roku,” in Memoriae amici et magistri. Studia historyczne poświęcone pamięci Prof. Wacława
Korty (1919–1999), ed. Marek Derwich, Wojciech Mrozowicz, Rościsław Żerelik (Wrocław:
Instytut Historyczny, 2001), pp. 39 f.; idem, Marian Rębkowski, “Uwagi końcowe. Początki
Kołobrzegu w świetle rozpoznania archeologicznego,” in Kołobrzeg. Wczesne miasto nad
Bałtykiem, ed. Lech Leciejewicz, Marian Rębkowski, (Origines Polonorum) 2 (Warszawa:
Trio, 2007), p. 302.
166 Chapter 2
would reach the mouth of the Oder.551 It seems natural that these missionary
activities encompassed mainly the bishopric headquarters and the surround-
ing area. In light of the analyses presented below, this was also the place where
one should locate the ritual of water consecration described by Thietmar.
After the annihilation by fire of idolatrous temples,552 and hence also the
performance of abrenuntiatio diaboli in the dimension of social life,553 the
chronicler mentions Reinbern’s purification of the sea, which was a dwell-
ing place for demons, by throwing into it four stones anointed with chrism
and sprinkling it with holy water. Connecting the said evil spirits with pagan-
ism is not directly confirmed in the source,554 although the ritual itself, if one
assumes the historicity of this event, was unavoidably aimed at the cult ad-
dressed to the sacrum of the sea, which was a natural phenomenon in the case
of the seaside community.555
However, one should extend the field of research in the case of the gen-
esis of the demonization of the sea element in Thietmar’s work. It is worth
paying attention to innertextual references to show the specifics of his way
551 Even if, as sometimes hypothetically some form of the ruleship of the first Piasts reached
this place, it is hard to assume that in populated and politically strong centres, such as
Wolin or Szczecin, such radical missionary procedures, as the ones described by Thietmar
would be used.
552 This way of eliminating idolatry takes its models from the Old Testament, see e.g. Deut
7:25; 1 Macc 5:44 and 68. However, it is hard to analyse the destruction of temples and
statues with fire only as purposeful following biblical examples.
553 See e.g. Marian Rechowicz, “Chrzest Polski a katolicka teologia misyjna we wczesnym
średniowieczu,” Ruch Biblijny i Liturgiczny 19 (1966), pp. 67–74; for a more extensive dis-
cussion on this practice, see later, p. 357.
554 It is only speculation whether the rite performed by Reinbern could possibly be referred
to particular deities either as a result of their diabolisation as an effect of interpretatio
Christiana or due to didactic reasons related to neophytes. One should also consider in
this context general references of Reinbern’s act to the pre-Christian “sea religion” (see
Czesław Deptuła, “Sakralne wartościowanie morza a problem integracji Pomorza z Polską
we wczesnym średniowieczu,” Summarium 4/24 (1975) [1978], pp. 164–173, esp. pp. 165,
168).
555 In the case of seaside people, treating the sea as hierophany is highly probable, which is
also argued by a psychologising trend in religious studies reflection on the birth of a new
cult in reference to the numinosum category. Rudolf Otto reflected in this term a feeling
of weirdness, delight and fear marked with ambivalence, which overwhelms the human
mind in the case of the majesty of the sea, desert or the sky, becoming the beginning of re-
ligious experience and cult, see Rudolf Otto, Świętość. Elementy racjonalne i irracjonalne w
pojęciu bóstwa, trans. by Bogdan Kupis (Wrocław: Thesaurus Press, 1993) [orig. Das Heilige:
Über das Irrationale in der Idee des Göttlichen und sein Verhältnis zum Rationalen (Breslau:
Trewendt & Granier, 1917)], p. 32–34 et passim. The full scale of this kind of experience of
phenomena in the shaping of religious life forms is analysed by the phenomenology of
sacrum, see Gerardus van der Leeuw, Phänomenologie der Religion (Tübingen: J.C.B. Mohr,
1933); Eliade, Traité d’histoire des religions.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 167
verbis claimed that the Bishop of “Kołobrzeg Salt” implanted (“eduxit”) “a new
branch on a tree which did not bear fruit,” i.e. the “cultivation of holy procla-
mation,” by purifying (“purgans”) the sea.
The key role in the explanation of this image is played by the interpreta-
tion of the ritual of throwing stones into the briny sea. Anointing them with
chrism means consecrating the space taken away from evil spirits, encompass-
ing it with the grace order.560 Their number, four, refers to the symbolism of
the universum, the cosmos based on four cardinal points, which in connec-
tion with their anointment561 allows the fact that they were thrown into the
habitat of demons as an aspiration to stop the devastating activity of powers
hostile to the world to be seen.562 At the same time it represented the estab-
lishment of the new order, the order of the rule of Christ.563 It is essential that
the maritime element also embodied the sphere of the life-giving forces of the
Christianized community. Fish and salt were the basis of its existence and even
affluence. Similarly, the sea itself served as a communication artery. Hence,
Reinbern could have intended to ensure the care of the new sacrum for the
seaside community, or even to make them aware of this state.564
560 It is possible to metaphorically define the sense of this ritual as a “baptism” of the sea
(cf. Deptuła, “Sakralne wartościowanie,” pp. 165 f.), which shows its character better than
the purely exorcistic interpretation. In the trend of purification and sanctification of the
matter, Reinbern’s ritual was interpreted numerous times, see e.g. Jan Kracik, “Chrzest
w staropolskiej kulturze duchowej,” Nasza Przeszłość 74 (1990), pp. 189–190; Jürgen
Petersohn, “Der Akt von Gnesen im Jahre 1000 und die Errichtung des Bistums Salz-
Kolberg. Zur historischen Substanz eines Jubiläums,” Baltische Studien NF 87 (2001), p. 33.
561 The stone and chrism generally indicate the symbolism of Christ, and the chrism (oil)
itself the order of grace – see Forstner, Świat, pp. 126–130, 172–174. An especially useful ex-
ample of the interpretation of Reinbern’s gesture is the treatment of a stone as weapons
against evil and connecting it semantically with Christ himself (see ibidem, pp. 129 f.).
562 A clear picture of this kind of destructive power appears in the vision of prophet Daniel,
in which four beasts come out of the sea defeated by the appearance of the “Son of Man”
(Dan 7), a figure considered a prototype of Christ. The number of beasts indicates that
the overcome threat was related to the whole universum. Thanks to the four stones,
Reinbern’s gesture has similar meaning, their anointment is to call the power of Christ to
tame the chaos posing danger to the four cardinal points of the world. One can also read
it this way that these four stones are the fundament of the ecclesial community, given the
symbolism of the stone and anointment related to Christ (see above, footnote 561) as the
fundament of the new Church (see Rosik, “Reinbern,” pp. 95–107).
563 Forstner, Świat, pp. 125–127: in biblical tradition the stone was a symbol of God as the
unconquered stronghold and also a sign of refraining the primordial see – the early begin-
ning of the creation, which is worth emphasizing in the context of these investigations.
564 In search for the sense of the discussed ritual it is worth taking into account the possibil-
ity of occurrence of a certain type of dialogue between Reinbern and the views of the
converted people, which was aimed at making them realise the annihilation of the power
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 169
The interpretation of the Reinbern’s ritual proposed here refers its elements
to the cultural context which conditioned both the very creation of the ac-
count and also the described activities – assuming that they were not stricte
literary construct. The significance of the symbols and ideas circulating in the
author’s intellectual milieu were taken into account as well as the conditions
of the seaside community. However, these kinds of premises do not permit
anything further than the general conviction that behind the action of the
“Kołobrzeg Salt” Bishop there could be some sophisticated theological specu-
lation (e.g. references to particular places in the Bible) prepared for this occa-
sion. It is possible but it was not indispensable.
First of all one should take into account the creative (performative) func-
tion of signs in cult activities: a rite establishes and brings about a particular
reality.565 The specifics of communication at the level of a symbol, which >>by
nature<< refers to numerous senses,566 are elements of fundamental signifi-
cance to consider. However, the development of a particular theological lec-
ture explaining the importance of these kinds of activities (e.g. in preaching)
is somehow secondary and is not indispensable for considering them effective.
Hence, the fundamental theological goal of the ritual presented by Thietmar
is the introduction of the rule of Christ on the scale of the whole ecumene, and
by doing so establishing the basis for implantation of Christianity in this sea-
side community. It is demonstrated to be a passive element on the historical
stage, like a tree tended by a gardener’s hand or a new crop. At the basis for the
use of this rhetoric it is possible to find a way of perceiving the Christianization
of a given country as the establishment of institutional order, which in this
of earlier worshipped supernatural forces, but first of all to manifest that God has taken
control of the sea. In this way the care of the new sacrum would visibly encompass the
neuralgic area for the seaside people’s functioning: the sea element which ensured its
wellbeing but was also a sphere of various threats. Fear of losing the basis of their exis-
tence in the case of people devoid of the possibility of maintaining their native sacrum
could form a serious obstacle in opening to Christianity, which was taken into account in
the then circle of its propagators among pagans. St. Bruno of Querfurt mentions that the
Prussians, after defiling the holiness of their cult grove by St. Adalbert, were to fear there
would be no crops and that their animals would not be fertile (see Vita Adalberti II, 25).
According to biographical sources, similar problems occurred to Otto of Bamberg during
his Pomeranian-Liutician missions in the 12th c. (see Ebo III, 8).
565 See e.g. Bogusław Nadolski, Liturgika, vol. 1 (Poznań: Pallotinum, 1989), p. 20.
566 See e.g. Paul Ricoeur, “>>Symbol daje do myślenia<<”, trans. Stanisław Cichowicz, in
Paul Ricoeur, Egzystencja i hermeneutyka. Rozprawy o metodzie, ed. Stanisław Cichowicz
(Warszawa: De Agostini, 2003), pp. 62–80.
170 Chapter 2
case precedes the change in the mentality of converted people and also shapes
the perception of their community.567
It is not accidental that the people entrusted to Reinbern are not shown
as pagan and attached to its native religion and customs, but are only hard
to teach, blunt, or stupid. The expression “insulsus” used in this case etymo-
logically means also without taste or more particularly without salt. Thus,
the selection of this epithet harmonizes with Reinbern’s expression “presul
Salsae Cholbergiensis” – Bishop of the “Kołobrzeg Salt.” It is worth emphasiz-
ing this confluence not only as a kind of play on words,568 but also – taking
into account the evangelical connotations of salt as a symbol of the presence
of Christianity in the world – as a particular susceptibility of this passage to
the allegorical interpretation typical of this epoch.569 Hence in this lack of salt
one can find a rather sophisticated, poetic expression of interpretation of the
attitude of the people being converted.
When trying to determine its location in the institutional context, it is worth
remembering, for comparison, the situation known to Thietmar from Polabia,
where pre-Christian sanctuaries were still used on lands already controlled
by bishoprics.570 However, in the chronicler’s optics these lands were no lon-
ger pagan due to the fact that they were encompassed by the network of the
Church. Hence, Reinbern, also fighting idolatry and teaching people who were
certainly not baptized, at the same time formally took care of them as his dio
cesans. This status was gained by the inhabitants of the seaside province of
Boleslav the Brave’s monarchy under the decisions of the Council of Gniezno
(1000) upon the establishment of a metropolis there and the subjugation of
three suffraganies to it. The one which was entrusted to Reinbern determined
the eastern part of the northern border of the contemporary Christian influ-
ence that was concentrated around Otto III’s empire.571
Hence the ritual presented by Thietmar is depicted as one of the elements
in establishing a new order on the borderland of the ecumene, not only by
encompassing this land in the diocese but also on the basis of subduing – as
it was understood in the theological perspective – to Christ’s rule the neigh-
bouring sea element (which was also life-giving for native people). Such cult
action must have taken place at the initial stage of Reinbern’s activity as a
bishop and it seems natural that it was located near his abode in the “Kolberg
Salt.” By nature it would have a singular character contrary to dismantling
sanctuaries (fana idolorum) which were more numerous on the scale of the
country.
It is impossible to determine indisputably how long Reinbern’s activity on
the Baltic Sea lasted. On the basis of Thietmar’s record about his chaplain, ac-
companying Boleslav the Brave during his stay in Prague in 1004,572 a hypoth-
esis was formulated that maybe this was the time of the fall of the bishopric
in “Kołobrzeg Salt” as a result of pagan reaction.573 However, Reinbern’s pos-
sible participation in the military expedition of the monarch to whom he was
subject would not have been surprising in those times. Thus, the final possible
date of leaving his dioceses is determined by the said expedition to Rus’. At the
same time, it is impossible to exclude that even then the results of his mission-
571 For the concept of Otto III’s renovatio imperii Romanorum and the significance of the
Council of Gniezno encompassed by this concept, see Johannes Fried, “Die Erneuerung
des Römischen Reiches,” in Europasmitte um 1000. Beiträge zur Geschichte, Kunst und
Archäologie, vol. 2, ed. Alfred Wieczorek, Hans-Martin Hinz (Stuttgart: Theiss, 2000),
pp. 738–744; and above, p. 41.
572 Thietmar VI, 33. Another event taken into account in the hypothetical dating of the fall
of the Kolberg Diocese is the arrival of Wolin (Livilni) envoys before the King of Germany
Henry II in about 1007, to oppose the political plans of Boleslav the Brave. This action of
the Wolin inhabitants against the Polish ruler was treated as a premise that Polish control
over Pomerania was rejected, and Wolin was a part of it. However, there is a weakness in
this research proposal, namely the fact that it is based on a hypothetical conviction that
Poland controlled this town and that this control was so strong – which raises a funda-
mental doubt – that it prevented the inhabitants of this town from independent political
activity. This way or another, one should take into account that it is possible that the
involvement of Boleslav the Brave in wars with Henry II led to the weakening or the fall of
Polish authority over the Baltic lands and perhaps in consequence only after a few years
after 1000 Reinbern’s Christianization action conducted there was stopped.
573 See Władysław Kowalenko, “Kołobrzeg,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 447. See also Lech Leciejewicz,
“Die sozialen und politischen Voraussetzungen des Glaubenswechsels in Pommern,” in
Rom und Byzanz im Norden. Mission und Glaubenswechsel im Ostseeraum während des
8.–14 Jahrhunderts, vol. 2, ed. Michael Müller-Wille (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1997), p. 170.
172 Chapter 2
ary activity did not have to be destroyed. The final terminus ad quem in this
matter is determined by the crisis of the Piast Monarchy in the 30’s of the 11th
c., after which Pomerania became independent.574 Its Christianization in the
12th c. sources is presented as work in cruda radice, which indicates that the
diocese of the “Kołobrzeg Salt” turned out to be an ephemeride.
Contrary to the optimism expressed in the laconic description of Reinbern’s
activity, one has to assume that his activity brought rather moderate results in
fighting pre-Christian cults. The scale of his achievements was even decreased
by attempts of 20th-c. historians, who in general questioned the burning of tem-
ples of idols (fana idolorum) by the “Kołobrzeg Salt” Bishop, or more precisely
the very possibility of his struggle with idolatry.575 These historians, including
H. Łowmiański who rendered considerable services in this respect, supported
reducing its area of occurrence among the Western Slavs to Northern Polabia
and the Baltic islands.576 It is certainly possible to defend Thietmar’s credibil-
ity by referring to the genesis of his information about Reinbern.577 However,
574 It is worth emphasizing that the earliest testimony of the name of the Pomeranians dates
back to 1046, and their formation as a geographical and social space is treated as a relic
of the fact that earlier they were the Piast Monarchy province. Hence, using this eth-
nic name in Reinbern’s times can raise doubts. See e.g. Ulf Stabenow, “Die Entstehung
der Pomoranen,” in Slawen und Deutsche im südlichen Ostseeraum vom 11. bis zum 16.
Jahrhundert. Archäologische, historische und sprachwissenschaftliche Beispiele aus
Schleswig-Holstein, Mecklenburg und Pommern, ed. Michael Müller-Wille, Dietrich Meier,
Henning Unverhau (Neumünster: Wachholtz, 1995), pp. 127–148; Jan M. Piskorski, Pomorze
plemienne. Historia – Archeologia – Językoznawstwo (Poznań/Szczecin: Sorus, 2002),
pp. 30 ff.
575 Thede Palm, Wendische Kultstäten. Quellenkritische Untersuchungen zu den letzten
Jahrhunderten slavischen Heidentums (Lund: Gleerupska Universitetsbokhandeln, 1937),
p. 26, claimed that in this case the expression ‘idolum’ is only a template of Christian
interpretation.
576 The final argument of H. Łowmiański (Religia, pp. 167 f.) on the matter of the absence of
temples and statues among Pomeranians living east of the Oder is the conviction that
St. Otton of Bamberg did not come across them, especially while his activity took place
over one hundred years before Reinbern’s mission. It should be mentioned that it is ex
silentio arguing, and additionally it does not take into account the fact that the specifics
of this stage of narration of Otto’s hagiographers (cf. Vita Prieflingensis II, 19–20; Ebo II,
18; Herbord II, 38–40) connected with his activity in Pomerania is brief, which does not
further go into such details as in e.g. well developed episodes connected with Szczecin or
Wolin (cf. Vita Prieflingensis II, 5–19; Ebo II, 7–13, 15; Herbord II, 24–37).
577 E.g. Słupecki, “Wykopaliska,” p. 28, indicated that Reinbern’s activity was probably very
well known in Germany and Thietmar wrote about events contemporary to him. To
strengthen this conviction, it is worth emphasizing that Reinbern came from Hassegau,
located in the Merseburg diocese ruled by the chronicler, which obliged his interests even
more in the direction of his compatriot. Information on this matter was most certainly
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 173
due to the fact that the attack was based on a priori assumed views on the
matter of the development of the Slavic religion, it is worth focusing exactly
on these assumptions.
In Łowmiański’s argument, the line of the Oder achieves the rank of a bor-
der between polytheism and the lower stages of the development of Slavic
beliefs and cults.578 The development of polytheism was to be possible only
in areas which were temporarily encompassed by the Church network in the
10th c., and the metric for this form of beliefs was the use of figural represen-
tations of deities. Yet, he took into account the possibility that Reinbern de-
stroyed the Perynia type sanctuaries (bearing this name after the town Perynia
located near Novgorod). According to archaeological reconstruction, this kind
of a cultic place consisted of poles forming an oval shape surrounding a post
located in the centre.579
At the same time, H. Łowmiański did not consider these objects as “regu-
lar temples.”580 Does it mean, however, that these types of sanctuaries did not
deserve the name fana idolorum? The word fanum, and whether it could de-
fine an open cult space, are up for dispute. Another cases in which Thietmar
used this word do not confirm such a possibility.581 Nevertheless, the semantic
range of the word fanum is sufficiently extensive to encompass the case of an
open sky sanctuary, especially if one takes into account the general nature of
taken by Thietmar directly or indirectly from the chaplain of the Kolberg bishop, whom
he mentions in his presentation of the events from 1004 (see above, footnote 572).
578 To hypothetically limit the area of occurrence of polytheism in Polabia to its northern
part, Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 168 f., quoted Thietmar’s information on the matter of the
southern part of Polabia, where sacrum was embodied in Glomač spring and its pool or
the Holy Grove (Zutibure), and not temples with idols. This argument is derived from
the silence of the source, and in addition H. Łowmiański disregarded a very important
problem: the cult places of Sorbian and Lusatian tribes described by Thietmar functioned
already at the time when the empire took control of this land and the related diocese
organisation was introduced, therefore there was no place for public idolatry in this social
context. It was more difficult to eradicate the cult of natural hierophanies so no wonder
they survived longer.
579 The hypothetical cult place in Perynia was discovered in 1908. In Western Pomerania some
analogic cult places were discovered, e.g. two such places were discovered in Trzebiatów
in 1931–1933, see e.g. Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 224 ff. Horbacz, Lechowicz, “Archeologia a
poznawanie religii,” p. 182, negated the qualification of the sanctuaries in Trzebiatów and
one in Mielno as the Perynia type of sanctuary, however, they did not question the cult
character of these places. Later excavation work proved the existence of similar objects in
Rus’, Bohemia and Poland.
580 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 168.
581 See Thietmar VI, 23.
174 Chapter 2
582 Filipowiak, “Słowiańskie wierzenia,” p. 19. The author supports the hypothesis about open
(in an analogy to Perynia) cult place in Kolberg.
583 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 61, 121 f., 160 f.; Łowmiański, Religia, p. 230; Hanna
Popowska-Taborska, Wczesne dzieje Słowian w świetle ich języka (Wrocław/Warszawa/
Kraków: Ossolineum, 1991), p. 115; Moszyński, Die vorchristliche Religion, pp. 115–117.
A polemic argument put forward by Leszek Bednarczuk, “W co wierzyli Prasłowianie?
(W świetle badań prof. Leszka Moszyńskiego nad przedchrześcijańską religią Słowian),”
Kieleckie Studia Filologiczne 10 (1996), p. 27, states that the fact that the statues and cult
building preserved in the Slavdom had to have their names is not sufficient because no
such objects evidently belonging to the “Pre-Slavic” culture were found.
584 See e.g. Vita Prieflingensis II, 11; Herbord II, 30–32.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 175
functions in current studies on the Slavic religion as a typical term for a pre-
Christian temple.585
On the other hand, it should be emphasized that at the current stage of the
debate on the ethnogenesis of the Slavs – or more particularly while taking
into account the concept of the formation of this ethnic community not ear-
lier than in the 4th–6th c. AD with essential contribution of migration and
acculturation586 – the very assumption that originally there was to be a general
Slavic community of terms referring to the sphere of cult, seems insufficiently
justified. Because in the case of strengthening the cultural ties which brought
the final formation of this ethnical community, it was exactly the religious
sphere which strongly cultivated more archaic traditions and so it could not be
made uniform, especially at the level of terminology.587 Therefore in particular
parts of the Slavdom, cult objects could have different names, which allows
one to question the (alleged) exceptionality of this ethnos in comparison with
other Indo-European peoples, expressed in pre-polytheistic >>primitivism<<
of religious life forms.
Thus in verification of Thietmar’s information about the existence of fana
idolorum in Reinbern’s diocese, the element of fundamental significance is the
assessment of the development of the forms of social life which would support
the development of a sacral infrastructure exceeding natural hierophanies.588
In this respect, although Kołobrzeg was less populous, it can be compared with
585 Etymologically “kącina” refers to a roofed building; see e.g. Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan
Sanctuaries, pp. 12 f. It is the same with statues, in the case of which general Slavic terms
could be “słup” (post) or “bałwan” (idol); these names inform about the shape of objects
but in some situations they were also cult objects, see Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 230. The au-
thor also hypothetically proposed a general Slavic term for an idol – ‘modła’. Cf. Słupecki,
“Słowiańskie posągi,” p. 36; idem, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 200.
586 See above, p. 6.
587 Stanisław Rosik, “Cień wieży Babel na pomorskich kącinach. O niepokornej służbie meta-
fory w badaniach nad początkami Słowiańszczyzny i jej kultury duchowej,” in Mundus
hominis – cywilizacja, kultura, natura. Wokół interdyscyplinarności badań historycznych,
ed. Stanisław Rosik, Przemysław Wiszewski, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia)
175 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2006) pp. 401–408.
588 One of the most significant factors in this case is adapting cult forms to ways of human
existence, especially in larger settlements, where such “domestication” of sacrum ensured
more efficient access to it in everyday life. The key matter in this reflection on this process
is the postulate of changing the paradigm of the description of the process genesis: de-
parture from a discussion on the Slavs borrowing idols and temples from another culture
to indicate how over centuries particular communities co-created multi-ethnic culture
circles, in which idolatry was practiced. Another issue is the question about the scale
and conditions of its development in particular tribes or centres (here the examples of
the Wagrians is especially interesting as they practiced idolatry in their capital Starigard,
but also had assembly (veche) by the holy grove dedicated to their god Prove, see below,
pp. 333 f).
176 Chapter 2
the centres at the mouth of the Oder.589 Hence the occurrence of idolatry or
even roofed temples, albeit only in this stronghold or its close neighbourhood,
fits the boundaries of probability,590 especially when taking into account the
wider context of cultural contacts of coastal Slavic communities with neigh-
bouring Scandinavia.591
This is why undermining Thietmar’s credibility in the matter of Reinbern’s
activity on the basis of general, abstract theories – besides being conditioned
by controversial methodological assumptions – fails to be convincing. An anti-
dote for the research procedure under question here is a turn to source analy-
sis, which on the basis of the discussed episode allows for an appreciation of
not so much the content for research on the Slavic religion but rather the art-
istry of the chronicler as an interpreter of history and the pagan elements on
its stage.
589 Szczecin or Wolin. However, it is worth taking into account in this comparison with
Kolberg also centres in Liutici lands converted by Otto of Bamberg in the 12th c., they
were less populated than the metropolises at the Oder mouth, which also had their tem-
ples. See above footnote 427.
590 See e.g. H Hermann Bollnow, Studien zur Geschichte der pommerschen Burgen und Städte
im 12. und 13. Jahrhundert (Köln/Graz: Böhlau, 1964), p. 93; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan
Sanctuaries, p. 70.
591 In Scandinavia pre-Christian cultic buildings or “temples” have been found by archae-
ologists in recent years, for instance in Uppåkra, Scania, and Borg, Östergötland (see:
Lars Larsson, Karl-Magnus Lenntorp, “The Enigmatic House,” in Continuity for Centuries:
A Ceremonial Building and its Context at Uppåkra, Southern Sweden, ed. Lars Larsson,
(Uppåkrastudier) 10 (Stockholm: Almqvist & Wiksell International, 2004), pp. 3–48;
Nielsen, “Rituals and power,” pp. 243–247).
592 Thietmar VIII, 3, p. 583: “In tempore patris sui [i.e. Boleslav the Brave’s – S.R.], cum is
[Mieszko I – S.R.] gentilis esset, unaquaeque mulier post viri exequias sui cremati decol-
lata subsequitur.”
593 Therefore in Thietmar’s perspective (IV, 56) Mieszko’s individual conversion as the “head”
(caput) resulted in attracting the community of his subjects considered as “defective
members” (membra debilia): “… innatae infidelitatis toxicum evomuit et in sacro baptis-
mate nevam originalem detersit. Et protinus caput suum et seniorem dilectum membra
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 177
ritual took place prior to his baptism. It should be emphasized, however, that
in the light of archaeological discoveries, the cremation of dead bodies was
still conducted in some parts of Piast lands until the 12th c., which makes the
value of this testimony for research on the progress of the Christianization of
Poland rather controversial.594
However, in analysis of Thietmar’s information it is worth taking into ac-
count the specifics of perception of conversion as encompassing a given
country within the Church network.595 As a result, customs treated as pagan
formally lost their raison d’être in public life, and this is the sphere of life the
chronicler refers to, emphasizing in this context the religious affiliation of the
ruler. Furthermore, for Thietmar the identifier of a pagan reality was not so
much the ritual of cremation, but rather the drastic information about kill-
ing a wife so she would share her husband’s fate after death. The occurrence
of this practice is confirmed in earlier sources, and in the case of Thietmar’s
account doubts are raised in relation to the presumably conventional use of
the participle decollata, because in Byzantine and Arabic descriptions there is
information about strangling (hanging).596
populi hactenus debilia subsequuntur et nupciali veste recepta inter caeteros Christi
adoptivos numerantur.”
594 See, e.g. Andrzej Janowski, Groby komorowe w Europie środkowo-wschodniej. Problemy
wybrane (Szczecin: IAE PAN, 2015), pp. 81 ff. However, on the other hand it should be em-
phasized that inhumation became common on some lands under the rule of the first
Piasts even before Christianity became their official religion, see below.
595 See above, pp. 79 f.
596 A catalogue of written sources was created by Helena Zoll-Adamikowa,
Wczesnośredniowieczne cmentarzyska ciałopalne Słowian na terenie Polski, part 1: Źródła
(Wrocław/Warszawa: Ossolineum, 1975), pp. 282 ff. First of all see Mauricii Strategicum
11, 6–7, in: Testimonia najdawniejszych dziejów Słowian, p. 138. Ibn Rosteh, Kita_b al-
A`la_q an-nafi_sa, the Arabic text and its Polish translation, in Źródła arabskie do dziejów
Słowiańszczyzny, vol. 2, part 2, ed. and trans. Tadeusz Lewicki (Wrocław/Warszawa/
Kraków/Gdańsk: Ossolineum, 1977), p. 37. The author considered the accuracy of this de-
scription convincing that the account is a result of the observation of an eye-witness of a
suicidal death of a Slavic wife (see ibidem, p. 113, footnotes 204, 205), however, given how
late the manuscripts forming the basis of this edition were, it is hard to fully share this op-
timism. Helena Zoll-Adamikowa, Helena Zoll-Adamikowa, Wczesnośredniowieczne cmen-
tarzyska ciałopalne Słowian na terenie Polski, part 2 (Wrocław/Warszawa: Ossolineum,
1979), pp. 191 f., supports the view that the widow hanged herself before cremation, con-
sidering Thietmar’s decollata as a general term used to describe a dead person, not neces-
sarily beheaded. Ibidem, pp. 244 ff., an attempt to reconstruct the whole cremation funeral
and all related celebrations. See also Władysław Łosiński, “Z dziejów obrzędowości pogr-
zebowej u północnego odłamu Słowian zachodnich w świetle nowszych badań,” in Kraje
słowiańskie w wiekach średnich. Profanum i sacrum, ed. Hanna Kóčka-Krenz, Władysław
Łosiński (Poznań: PTPN, 1998), pp. 473–483.
178 Chapter 2
597 Herodotus of Halicarnassus mentioned it referring to the Thracians; ethnology also offers
examples, see e.g. Gediga, Śladami, p. 169.
598 This concept of the Slavic afterlife corresponds with references to ritual joy during fu-
nerals, which indicates faith in the beginning of new life and happiness that god had
mercy for the dead – see Zoll-Adamikowa, Wczesnośredniowieczne cmentarzyska, part 2,
pp. 236 f; for more information on these reactions to cremation – see also ibidem,
p. 195 ff. The information about joy can also be found in Arabic sources, claiming that the
soul leaves the burnt body to go to a better world (see Tadeusz Lewicki, “Obrzędy pogr-
zebowe Słowian w opisach podróżników i pisarzy arabskich,” Archeologia 5 (1952–1953),
pp. 122–154); the same matter, see above, pp. 64, 71.
599 See above pp. 64 f.
600 Gediga, Śladami, p. 170. Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 259 ff., indicated the double role of fu-
neral rituals and the cult of the dead: prevention of unwanted visits of soul-phantoms or
summoning them at the right time, for which he quotes a number of historical testimo-
nies (Arabic, Byzantine, Czech and Polish sources) and finally ethnographic data from
the Slavdom and neighbouring peoples. This ambivalent attitude to the dead corresponds
with the findings of Bronisław Malinowski, Szkice z teorii kultury (Warszawa: Książka i
Wiedza, 1958), p. 422 ff. in which he appreciates the emotional element in the ideology of
funeral rituals. The cult of the dead reveals a certain duality of feelings: love and mourn-
ing related to the loss clash with abhorrence for the corpse and fear of his/her spirit; see
also Zoll-Adamikowa, Wczesnośredniowieczne cmentarzyska, part 2, pp. 235 f.
601 According to Gediga, Śladami, pp. 116 f., cremation of corpses – possibly following the
trail of popularisation of copper and bronze from the Near East – was accepted all over
the territory of Poland at the time of the Lusatian culture based on an archaic convic-
tion that fire was sacred and justification of this mythological custom would be a job
for priests. See also Zoll-Adamikowa, Wczesnośredniowieczne cmentarzyska, part 2,
pp. 240 f. The cult of fire was connected with cremation even earlier by M. Cabalska,
who related its appearance among the Slavs, similarly to the ritual wife’s death and joy
accompanying funerals, to Hinduistic influences (see Maria Cabalska, “Głos w dyskusji,”
in Religia pogańskich Słowian. Sesja naukowa w Kielcach, ed. Karol Strug (Kielce: Muzeum
Świętokrzyskie, 1968), pp. 113–117). However, there was no considerable justification for
this speculation. B. Gediga raised the question of the connection between the cult of the
Sun with ritual cremation (see Gediga, Śladami, p. 115). A connecting motif of solar beliefs
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 179
with the funeral cult could be a mythical view that the sun took the soul to the under-
world, because the sun itself, reaching lower spheres of the world does not perish, it only
sets. Cf. Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 117.
602 Helena Zoll-Adamikowa, “Głos w dyskusji,” Nasza Przeszłość 69 (1988), pp. 182–184; eadem,
“Modele recepcji rytuału szkieletowego u Słowian wschodnich i zachodnich,” Światowit 40
(1995), pp. 174–184. J. Gąssowski emphasizes that for many peoples inhumation evidently
appeared before Christianity was introduced (e.g. in West and Central Pomerania it was
certainly present as early as the 10th c.) and the a priori assumption that inhumation
burials occurred on Polish lands after the baptism of Mieszko I, leads to paradoxical con-
clusions that settlement groups dated to the 8th c. did not have burial grounds at all (see
Jerzy Gąssowski, “Archeologia o schyłkowym pogaństwie,” Archeologia Polski 37 (1992),
pp. 137 f.). Therefore one should take into account the possibility of changes in Slavic
burial rituals before the beginning of the mission on their lands. However, the very burial
ritual even in pre-Christian times could be a Christian infiltration. See also Łowmiański,
Religia, p. 317; Janowski, Groby komorowe, pp. 81 ff.
603 Bylina, Problemy, pp. 10 f.
604 Thietmar VIII, 3, p. 583.
605 Ibidem, VIII, 2.
180 Chapter 2
severe punishment, the prince cannot put them to any useful purpose.”606 The
chronicler’s reference to similarity with animals, which must be tamed, in the
context of severe punishment for sexual offences leads to an association with
a very common view at that time that sexual chaos was befitting for cattle.
Introduction of order in this sphere, in the contemporary mentality, indicated
the existence of cum lege et rege community.607 In the same spirit, Boleslav,
apart from new church customs608 and especially fasting,609 firmly main-
tained the native tradition of counteracting sexual freedom, which was will-
ingly accepted by the Bishop of Merseburg: “In her [i.e. Oda’s] husband’s [i.e.
Boleslav] kingdom, the customs are many and varied. They are also harsh, but
occasionally quite praiseworthy.”610 In this context, the information about kill-
606 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, pp. 361 f. Thietmar VIII, 2: “Populus enim suus
more bovis est pascendus et tardi ritu asini castigandus et sine poena gravi non potest
cum salute principis tractari.” Cf. e.g. B. Kumor, Praktyka misyjna, p. 33 f.; Fraesdorff, Der
barbarische Norden, pp. 247 f.; Andrzej Pleszczyński, Joanna Sobiesiak, Karol Szejgiec,
Michał Tomaszek, Przemysław Tyszka, Historia communitatem facit. Struktura narracji
tworzących tożsamości grupowe w średniowieczu (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2016), pp. 200 f.
607 Banaszkiewicz, Polskie dzieje, pp. 142–149.
608 Thietmar VI, 92, p. 449, confirms that Boleslav the Brave, having committed sins, studied
church canon law himself to see what penance efface sins, which proves that following
legal standards was one of the basic indicators of faith; see Gieysztor, “Przemiany ideolog-
iczne,” p. 166; Prucnal, “Władca chrześcijański,” pp. 23 f.
609 Thietmar VIII, 2, mentions that in Boleslav the Brave’s Poland breaking the meat eating
ban after Tempus Septuagesimæ was punished with the knocking out of teeth, which is
justified by the chronicler with the specifics of the beginnings of implanting “God’s law”:
“Lex namque divina in hiis regionibus noviter exorta potestate tali melius quam ieiunio
ab episcopi instituto corroboratur” (cf. trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 362:
“The law of God, newly introduced in these regions, gains more strength from such acts
of force than from any fast imposed by the bishops”). It is worth mentioning that these
methods were used to introduce Lent which was longer than usual and it lasted nine
weeks, which additionally shows the exceptional rigourism of the Christianization action
promoted by the Polish ruler; see Roman Michałowski, “Post dziewięciotygodniowy w
Polsce Chrobrego. Studium z dziejów polityki religijnej pierwszych Piastów,” Kwartalnik
Historyczny 104 (2002) 1, pp. 5–39. It is worth remembering that according to Thietmar (IV,
56), Dobrava was to prevail upon Mieszko I to accept baptism exactly by breaking the ban
on eating meat during Lent. This was a premise for speculation that Thietmar emphasized
the extraordinarily severe fasting in Poland exactly in connection with Dobrava’s trespass,
however, it is impossible to decide whether there is only a possible association in the chroni-
cler’s mind or some particular remembrance about this event in the environment of the
early Piast monarchy, which resulted in the specifics of fasting. The very motif of Mieszko’s
conversion by Dobrava is realisation of the topos of mulier suadens, which supports consid-
ering the discussed question first of all in the mental and literary culture area.
610 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 361; cf. Thietmar VIII, 2: “In huius sponsi
regno sunt multae consuetudines variae; et quamvis dirae, tamen sunt interdum lauda-
biles.” However, these severe punishments introduced by Boleslav the Brave differed from
what was recommended in penitentials. In newly converted Christian countries the role
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 181
ing wives instead of evoking disgust for being so drastic, expresses a model of
marital faithfulness.
The fact that Slavic relations were selected as a sort of ideal belongs to a
more extensive cultural context. The medieval Latin historiography, especially
from the 10th c., brings a conviction of the “toughness” of the Slavs, with a si-
multaneous positive assessment of their marital morality exactly related to a
wife’s suicide during the funeral customs of her husband.611 The earliest confir-
mation of the topos of self-immolation of a wife on her husband’s pyre in the
Latin circle was recorded by the Anglo-Saxon, Winfrid-Boniface: “With such
passion do they share martial love that after her husband dies, a woman does
not want to live any longer. A woman is considered praiseworthy when she
puts herself to death with her own hand and burns herself on one pyre with
her husband.”612 In this case, similarly to the one described by the Merseburg
chronicler, this motif occurs in the context of information about the unusual
strength of faithfulness and love in marriage.
of the ruler was also to teach his subjects their religious duties. A model in this respect
was Charlemagne, and Thietmar, who certainly being aware of this tradition, praised
Boleslav the Brave’s brutality, see Aleksander Gieysztor, “Ideowe wartości kultury polskiej
w w. X–XI. Przyjęcie chrześcijaństwa,” Kwartalnik Historyczny 67 (1960) 4, p. 933; cf. idem,
“Przemiany ideologiczne,” pp. 163, 165; see also Prucnal, “Władca chrześcijański,” pp. 12
f., 23. This approval for strict standards gave rise to a variety of scholars’ associations.
E.g. Lippelt, Thietmar von Merseburg, p. 195, finds in them confirmation of the chroni-
cler’s conservatism in which he is like Tacitus in accusing his contemporaries of a cor-
ruption of morals. For him the “golden age” was in Otto I’s times which was also the time
of Mieszko’s pagan rule. On the other hand Kahl, Die ersten Jahrhunderte, p. 57, claimed
that in Thietmar’s eyes, Boleslav the Brave’s activity is praiseworthy as it meant imposing
discipline in the Church spirit of compellere intrare. See also: Fraesdorff, Der barbarische
Norden, pp. 247 f.; Pleszczyński, Niemcy, p. 34; cf. idem, The Birth of a Stereotype, p. 31;
Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, p. 198.
611 Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Slavi genus hominum durum,” in Wokół stereotypów Niemców
i Polaków, ed. Wojciech Wrzesiński (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia) 114
(Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1993), pp. 8, 11–13. The topical
character is connected here not only to wives’ suicides, but also duritia of the Slavs dis-
cussed by L.A. Tyszkiewicz in reference to the characteristics of these people written by
Widukind (II, 20) and available in earlier sources.
612 Bonifatius una cum aliis episcopis Aethelbaldum regem Mercionum ad virtutem revocat, in:
S. Bonifatii et Lulli Epistolae, ed. Wilhelm Gundlach, Ernst Dümmler, MGH Epp 3, Epp
Merovingici et Karolini aevi 1 (1892), Ep. 73, p. 342, or: S. Bonifatii et Lulli Epistolae, ed.
Michael Tangl, MGH Epp sel 1 (1916), Ep. 73, p. 150: “tam magno zelo matrimonii amorem
mutuum observant, ut mulier viro proprio mortuo vivere recuset. Et laudabilis mulier
inter illos esse iudicatur, quia propria manu sibi mortem intulerit et in una strue pariter
ardeat cum viro suo”; cf. Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 63; Tyszkiewicz, “Slavi
genus,” p. 8.
182 Chapter 2
Opinions related to the cognitive value of this and other topoi in studies on
the pre-Christian customs of the early Slavs are divided, however, it is hard not
to agree with the opinion of Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, that “even the biggest stereo-
types were formed on some factual substrate, hence common opinions in an-
tique, Byzantine and western European historiography of the Slavs were based
on certain reality connected with their true character.”613 Therefore references
to wives committing suicide at their husbands’ funerals can be considered as
a form of emphasizing one of the characterological features of Slavic peoples,
which once it was observed, became a part of a fixed set of views about them.
This does not mean that it was a common practice, at least due to the fact
that there are few double graves that have been excavated in Slavdom.614 Jerzy
Dowiat concluded that “we read in sources about living Slavic widows often
enough to decisively reject the idea of forcing them to die together with their
husbands.” This author is more supportive of the view that more likely one of
the female slaves, and not the wife, was burnt on a funeral pyre to accompany
the deceased.615 The same view was expressed by Helena Zoll-Adamikowa,
however, she did not exclude that a wife’s suicide occurred as well and was
“certainly the consequence of complex impulses first of all of a social nature
and possibly also for more emotional reasons.”616
The multiplication of the topos discussed here could result from following
in the footsteps of earlier authors and therefore also typical erudite prepara-
tion of contemporary authors. When writing about the Slavs, they used clichés
and common views (although not completely groundless ones) to exemplify
their own opinions.
617 Thietmar VIII, 5. See Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne, pp. 120 ff.; Babij, Wojskowość, p. 148.
618 E.g. Stanisław Zakrzewski, Bolesław Chrobry Wielki (Lwów: Ossolineum, 1925), p. 291; cf.
Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne, p. 121. Quite different opinion was expressed by Sułowski,
Sporne problemy p. 163, he perceived the attack of the Obodrite as a continuation of the
Liutici activity from the times of their alliance with the empire, which weakened Boleslav
the Brave’s influences on their lands and fuelled the war which was also devastating for
the Saxons. The Liutici took advantage of the exhaustion of the Christian antagonists
after a long war and they attacked the stranded Obodrite duke themselves by sparking
off a rebellion of his subjects. In the light of this interpretation the Liutici Federation is
presented as an entity pursuing long term, consistent policy of weakening Christian influ-
ences in Polabia, by using any possible opportunity. Attributing to the Liutici this type of
planned activity seems unverifiable, to say the least, and it is contradicted by their stable
cooperation with the Germans, which by definition did not foster the plans of native
cults’ restitution in Polabia. For a more pertinent choice of the direction in searching for
the genesis of the war in the growing Obodrite–Liutici antagonism based on political and
religious differences see M.Z. Jedlicki in: Thietmar, VIII, 5, p. 587, footnote 26. Another
possibility which should be taken into account is the idea that the attack was agreed on
between the Liutici and the internal opposition of Mstislav (see below).
619 Thietmar VIII, 5: “in malo semper unanimes”.
620 Ibidem: “per indigenas Christo seniorique proprio rebelles”.
184 Chapter 2
praesumptio). It is worth taking into account here that the Liutici attack took
place in agreement with the internal opposition against Mstislav, for which
the non-monarchic rule of the Liutici could also be an attractive option, along
with a return to native beliefs and cults.
The chronicler mentions that the events took place “in the month of
February which the heathen venerate with rites of purification and obligatory
offerings. The month takes its name from the god of hell, Pluto, who is also
called Februus.”621 The expression referring to worship given to the month,
practiced by the pagans in the form of offerings and gifts, would indicate that it
was a holy time, but the context of this information does not define which pa-
gans are meant, only the ancient Roman ones or, more universally, any pagans.
Therefore, it should be taken into account that in this passage the chronicler
was possibly referring to celebrations which in his culture had been interpret-
ed as – since ancient times – related to Pluto, but in fact were known in his own
time,622 e.g. the Slavic cult of the dead, in which the idea of the underworld
was significant. The idea to find a reference in Thietmar’s “Pluto” to a similarly
named Slavic deity however, e.g. Pereplut known from Rus’,623 can hardly be
verified and is very difficult to explain from the perspective of the chronicler’s
erudition.624
621 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 364. Thietmar VIII, 5: “Haec abominabilis
presumptio fit mense Februario qui a gentilibus lustracione et muneris debiti exhibicione
venerandus ab infernali deo Plutone, qui Februus dicitur, hoc nomen accepit.”
622 In the Polish translation of the chronicle by M.Z. Jedlicki (see Thietmar, p. 586) appears
the statement that “pagans worship February” by propitations, purification offerings and
due gifts, which support the considered possibility. However, the version proposed by
the translator deviates from the Latin text, in which the context of using gerundivum
venerandus can also refer to the past.
623 Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, p. 148. For “Pereplut” see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie,
p. 183.
624 Firstly, there are no other confirmations for such a literary procedure in Thietmar’s
chronicle. Secondly, Roman deities functioned in it either in the explicit context of an-
cient Roman or Greek religions, or as a metaphor, for which there are good examples
related to Mars: the first of these trends is depicted in the legend about the beginnings
of Merseburg (I, 2) and the other one a reference to the civil war in the territory of the
Netherlands (1018), Thietmar VIII, 27: “… Mars sevit in viscera, quod in perpetuum plangit
mater aecclesia” (cf. trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 380, VIII, 27: “… Mars
raged among us in a fashion that mother church would forever lament”). On the other
hand one should turn attention to the above discussed way in which Thietmar used a
quotation from Dialogues of Saint Gregory the Great: the way the expression “quidam gen-
tiles” functions in this case does not allow to clearly state whether it refers to a particular
pagan environment in the Late Antiquity or a certain fraction of pagans which could still
exist in the chronicler’s times (see above, pp. 69 f.).
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 185
Provided that it is possible that the chronicler referred here to pagan cus-
toms, including the customs of the Polabian Slavs – although this is hardly
probable – then one should take into account that interpretatio Romana could
have some influence here, and a good comparative example would be the
statue of Saturn, mentioned by Widukind of Corvey, which was looted by the
Saxons after they conquered Starigard (Oldenburg), the major Wagrian centre
in 967.625
In this case the very emphasis on particular pagan practices related to Pluto,
especially in the context of the ancient tradition, strengthens the significance
of the spiritual element hostile to Christianity, especially in the atmosphere of
a description of a war. This could be understood in the context of the informa-
tion that war started in February, during which since ancient times idolatry
had flourished in a gloomy dimension related to death. The same climate ac-
companies further lines of this description presenting the triumph of pagan-
ism: “Then, all of the churches, dedicated to the honour and service of Christ,
were wasted by fire and other forms of destruction. Even worse, the image of
the crucified Christ was mutilated and the worship of idols was preferred to
that of God.”626
The devastation of churches and the symbolical cutting off of the image of
the Holy Cross was to accompany the introduction of the cult of idols which
were put above God, which, for yet another time on the pages of the chronicle,
refers to the idea of creaturam anteponere creatori.627 The mind (mens) of the
Wagrians and Obodrite hardened in their obstinacy against God like “Pharaoh’s
heart.”628 Delivery of these people from slavery, following the Liutici, meant re-
gaining political freedom, but at the same time departure from “the best Father
and the noblest Lord” and the rejection of the “sweet yoke of Christ” to accept
the “burden of devil’s rule,”629 which – according to the chronicler – was to be
deplored by Christians and led them to plead with Christ so that this change
would not be lasting.630
In the next chapter the chronicler developed the motif of the apostasy of
the Slavs being considered as gens apostata.631 These events could appear to
their contemporaries to anticipate the near end of the world and the Last
Judgement, but the chronicler reassuringly does not share this opinion, refer-
ring to the authority of St. Paul:632 “Let no faithful heart despair because of this
misfortune, or believe that the Day of Judgement is fast approaching since,
according to Paul’s truthful admonition, one should not speak of such things
prior to the discord and cursed arrival of the Antichrist. Nor should there be
any sudden unrest among Christians, since their unanimity and stability ought
to be the highest.”633
These passages did not attract the attention of researchers studying the re-
ligion of the Slavs too strongly, and actually their vagueness did not contribute
to the progress of its reconstruction. However, from the perspective of studies
on the interpretation of paganism, the usefulness of these chapters should be
very highly assessed. Similar to the description of the rebellion of the Polabian
Slavs in 983, they are a perfect example of the theological interpretation of
history conducted by the Bishop of Merseburg, which becomes clear after a
summary view of this material.
The basic classification of the pagan religion at the level of the word – cultus
idolorum – is connected to pejorative assessments of the character and atti-
tudes of its followers: “in malo semper unanimes” (“always unanimous in evil”)
regarding the Liutici or rebels (rebelles) against the worldly rule and Christ
himself in the case of Obodrite supporting apostasy. A striking element, indi-
cating the unity of paganism in ancient times and contemporary to Thietmar,
is the reference to Pluto-Februus in the description of the time of these stormy
events. Another noteworthy element was a series of images taken from the
Christian tradition used in the interpretation of these events and attitudes of
Slavs: cutting off the Cross (i.e. image of the crucified Christ), putting idolatry
above the cult of the real God, Pharaoh’s hardened heart like in the Book of
631 Ibidem, VII, 6: “Bernardus (…) apostatae istius gentis (…) episcopus …”
632 It is possible to find here a reference especially to 2 Thess 2:1 ff., which becomes even more
probable due to Thietmar’s clear reference to this text very near to this place, in: Thietmar
VIII, 3, thus a little earlier (cf. 2 Thess 2:8).
633 Trans. D.A. Warner in: Ottonian Germany, p. 365; cf. Thietmar VIII, 6: “Nullius fidelis cor
ob hanc infelicitatem in aliquam desperacionem veniat vel diem iudicii appropinquare
dicat, quia secundum veredici ammonicionem Pauli ante dissensionem et Antichristi ex-
ecrabilem adventum non debet e talibus aliquis oriri sermo nec inter christocolas subita
venire commocio, cum eorundem unanimitas esse debeat in summis stabilitas.” See also
Schulmeyer-Ahl, Der Anfang, p. 174.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 187
Exodus, rejection of the “sweet yoke” of Jesus only to accept devil’s oppres-
sion or departure from “the best Father and the noblest master.” Finally, the
Slavic rebellion earned itself the name of apostasy; however, in the comment
of the Bishop of Merseburg, it was not the final one as is understood in the
Revelation.
The original paganism of the Slavs in Thietmar’s times in the literary perspec-
tive of his work belongs to the past. Evidence for this can be found primarily
for Poland (the cult of Ślęża Mountain and burial ceremonies connected with
killing widows). However, the cults of the Polabian tribes, so dynamic in his
times, were treated by him as paganism resulting from apostasy, and due to
this, even more worthy of condemnation.
Thietmar did not perceive ties to Christianity only in a personal dimen-
sion, but also as a dependence of particular communities, gentes, on Christian
power, and especially the empire. In this way, regardless of the degree of ad-
vancement of personal conversion in these communities, which were being
converted at that time, the very rebellion against the supreme power of
Christian monarchy gained the dimension of apostasy. This is confirmed in the
interpretation of the rebellion of the Liutici (983) who, according to Thietmar,
rejected not only the dependence of the emperor but also the rule of Christ
and St. Peter. Similarly, the Obodrite and Wagrians who rebelled against their
duke (1018) were symptomatically defined by this author as “Christo seniorique
proprio rebelles” (“rebellious against Christ and their own sovereign”), and also
as gens apostata.
However, in places where the rule of the Christian monarchy and the re-
lated diocesan organization were not overthrown, people were not treated as
pagan even when they practiced idolatry or worshiped sanctuaries embodied
in nature. This refers to both communities in which Christianity was newly
implanted (the diocesans of Reinbern or Chutici worshipping the holy grove of
Zutibure) and communities encompassed by evangelization activity, but prac-
ticing “dual faith” (e.g. the Glomaci visiting the holy spring more often than
churches, or worshippers of the “house god” called Hennil).
In this situation people under the care of bishops, even if they were at the
stage prior to accepting Christianity, were treated as uneducated (even sim-
plistic or stupid, like in e.g. the episode related to Reinbern), requiring a lot
188 Chapter 2
of catechetical effort, but at the same time no longer called pagan. Yet they
can commit sins typical of pagans, which is shown in the reproach directed to
Hennil’s worshippers that they do not know The Psalms of David: “Simulacra
gentium opera hominum (etc.).” However, the context of the narration indi-
cates that Thietmar stigmatizes common ignorance in the matters of the
Christian doctrine accompanied by idolatry among the inhabitants of the area
of Walbeck.
The chronicler has a structured approach to Church Teaching: he indicates
that literacy is the foundation for proclaiming the Christian faith from genera-
tion to generation. The Bible, credo of St. Athanasius, the works of the Church
Fathers, etc., are all critically important. “Scriptures” in Thietmar’s perspective
bring the essential knowledge of paganism in the light of theology, which is
however, to a large extent detached from the historical substrate perceived
from the perspective of the current state of research on the religion of the
Slavs. Inlitterati form the dominant category in his assessment of pre-Christian
or being Christianized Slavs, defining wide social circles at that time, which
did not participate in the written culture and the knowledge and values that
it brought.
A clear example of using the measure of the Church doctrine to the native
views of Slavs is the view that “cum morte temporali omnia (…) finiri” (“ev-
erything ends with the temporal death”). The question about afterlife in rela-
tion to the Slavs, asked from the perspective of the Christian credo, remains
in a vacuum: they do not respect judgement for their sins or resurrection,
and possibly – not much however, because the fragments of The Dialogues of
St. Gregory the Great quoted by the chronicler are only a trace in this issue –
they do not see the difference between the fate of people and animals after
death. Similarly conditioned by a religious mentality, the reactions of the
Polabian people to the efforts of Bishop Boso to teach them to sing Kyrie (hy-
pothetically: undertaking mantic practices, fear of the wrath of previous gods,
a will to use Boso’s authority as an agent between them and God, an attempt
to camouflage their native beliefs) was read as a malicious mockery of prayer –
which can also hardly be excluded – and at the same time as signs of stupidity.
The same measure is used by Thietmar (III, 19) to assess the attitudes of
the Slavs who are presented as pagans (apostates); he emphasizes that they
treated idols irrationally (“stulto”), i.e. they put the creation above the Creator
(cf. Rom 1:25). The chronicler declares his abhorrence of the Liutici idolatry
and viewed contact with them and their cult as dangerous (VI, 25: “Eorum
cum cultu consorcia, lector, fugias …” – “Avoid, reader, any connections with
them or their cult …”). These threats can be prevented by learning the Church
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 189
doctrine, however, the Bishop of Merseburg does not start a polemic with
particular views of pre-Christian Slavs, as was the case in the early Christian
apologetics. To ridicule their attitude, it was enough to qualify it as stupidity
and sin, which in essence involved “putting the creation above the Creator.”
In this perspective, the juxtaposition of paganism and Christianity in
Thietmar’s work is subdued to the supreme contradiction between the “faith-
ful” and the “unfaithful” to God: (christi)fideles – infideles. Unfaithfulness
certainly characterizes pagans or apostates in the social dimension, yet in theo-
logical assessment as such it has an universal nature, because it refers to every
man due to his sinful nature; Thietmar expresses this view speaking about “the
poison of innate unfaithfulness” (innatae infidelitatatis toxicum), which a man
can reject through baptism.
For Thietmar the world is essentially – like in the Bible or patristics (espe-
cially St. Augustine’s thought) – a stage on which there is an ongoing struggle
between good and evil. Nonetheless, this confrontation refers also to phenom-
ena in nature, and a good example here is the description of Reinbern’s ac-
tivity when he performed the ritual of expelling demons from the sea, hence
attempting to use Christ’s power to control the powers of eternal chaos posing
a threat to the order of the cosmos. An element of key significance in the as-
sessment of the phenomena of social life, and especially human attitudes and
activities, conducted by the Bishop of Merseburg, is the antinomy of the orders
of grace (faithfulness to God and good deeds) and sin (service to the Satan and
demons, trespasses).
In this perspective, the Slavic religion is basically (and obviously) situated
on the side of evil. However, in his work Thietmar sometimes shaped the at-
titudes and opinions in his own environment while withholding a negative as-
sessment of paganism. This is why the promotion of marital morality inclined
him to show Slavic wives who lost their lives in the burial ritual of their hus-
bands as a model of faithfulness. The chronicler mentions that this happened
when Mieszko I was pagan (“cum is iam gentilis esset”), but the said practice
was not interpreted in categories of sin or stupidity.
Another place in which one can observe a striking lack of negative assess-
ment of pagan cult practice is the description of how the Liutici made an of-
fering of the Polish leader of the stronghold given to them by a Christian ruler,
Czech Boleslav, to tutelary gods. This deed undoubtedly deserved condemna-
tion like the one found in the Letter of St. Bruno,634 yet – as can be conjectured –
Thietmar put the good of the Saxons first. They owed their rescue to the Czech
ruler, and so he did not criticize him (and hence also his pagan allies) for the
deed which ordinarily would be disgraceful from a Christian point of view.
Thietmar also refrained from open condemnation of the Liutici in the de-
scription of the war in 1017, when they were Henry II’s allies in his fight with
Boleslav the Brave. Certainly, being convinced that loyalty to the Emperor was
a fundamental duty of each member of the Christian community subordi-
nate to him,635 the chronicler reproves instigators who tried to persuade the
participants of an expedition against Poland to abandon it. Thietmar found it
hard to accept the said alliance with non-Christians, however, in this case he
moderately expressed his emotions. He presented an incident in which one of
the Saxons, to show his outrage with the company of the Liutici, destroyed the
image, probably the holy banner, of their goddess with a stone, yet first and
foremost he morally appreciated Henry II’s opponents from the Polish side.
The defenders of Niemcza, besieged by his army, are presented as model
Christians. They resisted the Liutici assault by raising a cross against the attack-
ers in confidence that it would bring victory. This scene becomes even more
convincingly impressive due to the fact that it takes place in the country whose
name was derived by the chronicler, without concealing negative emotions,
from a mountain worshipped during the times of the “condemned paganism”
(execranda gentilitas). In this context, it is hard not to talk about the disgrace of
Henry II and the Saxons, because de facto they stood out against Christ’s cross,
and additionally they guaranteed their pagan allies freedom of worship. This
was indicated by the attitude of the defenders of Niemcza, to whose land –
according to Thietmar – paganism was in its past.
From a historiological perspective the statement that the losses incurred by
the emperor and Christian participants of his expedition, as a result of their
sins, was of key significance. The Liutici suffered as well, as they lost another
“goddess” (after the first one, as was already mentioned, was hit with a stone).
In this context it is completely understandable that emphasis was put on the
fact that Boleslav the Brave, happy that Niemcza was defended, was described
as “rejoicing in the Lord.” Hence he was on the side of the good, in a moral
and theological assessment, yet it was an exception from Thietmar’s recorded
treatment of the ruler.
Therefore Thietmar, being a clergyman and a diplomat, respecting the es-
sential dimension of grace or sin in the assessment of his characters’ behav-
iour, respected also the hierarchy of the world he lived in and the wellbeing of
his close ethnic community i.e. the Saxons. Open condemnation of the Liutici
635 This particular role of the emperor as the leader of the Christian community is reflected
in his title vicarius Dei (see above, p. 50).
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 191
and their religion became possible when it did not mean direct criticism of
the emperor or when it did not cast a shadow on the Saxons’ benefactors. It
is not accidental that the strongest criticism of pagans appears in the excurse
on Radogošč, which is a separate entity,636 and also in the description of their
rebellion in 983 and the Obodrite invasion in 1018, in which Thietmar is un-
stinting in hateful words and the most pejorative assessments (e.g. “in malo
semper unanimes”).
In the literary perspective, they are a tool used by Satan and at the same time
their victory over Christians is treated as heaven’s punishment for Saxons’ sins.
However, the soothing information that the Obodrite “apostasy” should not be
perceived as a sign of the immediate arrival of the apocalyptic Antichrist di-
rectly indicates that the chronicler referred the reflection on the historical role
of returns to paganism to the essence of the Christian historiology. The axis
of his presentation of confrontation between good and evil on the historical
stage is determined by the juxtaposition of God/Christ, St. Peter, the Church
and the Christian faith to Satan, demons, idols, deities/gods, paganism (with
its institutions), and heresy.
Thietmar used notions associated with terminology taken from the Bible
to define the nature of paganism. From his perspective one can even say that
he >>recognized<< particular elements of Slavic beliefs and cults as universal
phenomena embodying antisacrum even in the Old Testament. This is why
images of Slavic gods in his perspective are synonymous with idols, demons’
statues, deities, and first and foremost “gods made by hand” (dii manu facti),
who in the convention developed by Thietmar combine in themselves the ma-
terial and the spiritual dimension. By this definition they are made by man, an
object, and yet they envision spiritual power and by doing so they provide real
support to their worshippers.
Even effigies accompanying the Liutici troops, in the narration of Thietmar’s
chronicle, become gods and goddesses. Also, the figure named Hennil gains the
name of domesticus deus. Using this category of interpretation of gods’ repre-
sentations, Thietmar took into consideration the respect paid to these types of
hierophanies by pagans themselves. To some extent >>he went to their side<<
in interpretation of their sacrum, introducing an element of personification of
their idols to the description. It is significant that he attributes irascible per-
sonality; human offerings were to tame their “unutterable” (ineffabilis) anger
and fury (ira, furor).
636 Immediately after the end of the excurse about the Liutici cult, there is only enigmatic
information about a lack of balance in the command of the allied Liutici–German forces,
in which one can conjecture an allusion to idols carried in front of the pagan forces.
192 Chapter 2
637 However, another possible explanation of the occurrence of the term minister and not
sacerdos or pontifex, which does not contradict the ones presented above, can be the
taking into account by the chronicler of the difference between the functions of the
Christian clergy and Liutici priests.
638 In the case of Hennil’s cult, according to Thietmar, the sin of idolatry meant various pecu-
liar manifestations of evil (monsters, spectres led by the Satan) occurring not only in the
place where a folk rite related to this fetish was performed but also in the whole surround-
ing area.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 193
hierophanies, such as Ślęża Mountain, the holy grove (Zutibure), or the Glomač
spring, are presented by him as Slavic cult objects addressed directly to them.
Therefore, similar to the case of idols, Thietmar’s view harmonizes the concept
of “putting creation above the Creator” (cf. Rom 1:25). In this context it is also
worth taking into consideration the respect paid, as a reference, to Radogošč
as a holy city by the Liutici.
In reference to the Glomač spring, the chronicler emphasized that according
to local people, miraculous events and supernatural phenomena (mira) take
place there. This remains in agreement with the wider context of this work, in
which numerous times he showed special interest (curiositas) in various cu-
riosities and unusual events, although not always uncritically.639 Also in the
case of Glomač, he made a reservation that he depended on the testimony of
the local community related to prophetic signs, such as blood and ash, which
were to show in its water. Perforce, however, he showed that he considered the
possibility of the occurrence of miraculous events in the place of a cult with
native origin, while he unequivocally assessed the motivation for worshipping
such sacrum as yielding to “vain hopes” (spes dubia).
A more stringent assessment of following pagan religion or “dual-faith” is
superstitio: superstition occurring in a characteristic expression: vana supersti-
tio erroris. It appears in the introduction that the description of Radogošč and
together with inanior executio (vain, senseless activities) defines the Liutici
religion as a whole. Similarly, in the presentation of Bishop Wigbert’s activity
there is a claim that with his teachings he dissuaded the people from “a vain
superstition of an error” (“a vana superstitione erroris,”) and next cut down the
grove worshipped by them. Both examples of using the said formula refer to
phenomena occurring in different social contexts – the Liutici were officially
pagan, while Chutici were a Christianized community (with potential baptized
members) that was controlled by the power of the bishopric.
Thus, the superstitio erroris qualification with reference to a particular ex-
pression of religious life was not only reserved for the description of paganism.
This assessment refers to a trespass of an erroneous choice of the subject of the
faith and cult, which is one of the measures of a breach of Church doctrine or
discipline, because the term superstitio is used in such an extensive meaning of
639 For example Thietmar shows detachment when he mentions the story about a wild boar
appearing from a lake in Radogošč, to announce a civil war, and it should also be empha-
sized that e.g. the solar eclipse, following Macrobius’s views, was considered by him as a
phenomenon related to the moon (IV, 15), hence he explained it using rational terms, as
much as it was possible given the development of science at that time.
194 Chapter 2
the pages of Thietmar’s chronicle.640 Thus by assumption, the Liutici are seen
to have breached Christian faith due to the conviction (from Thietmar’s time)
that having access to it, they made the wrong choice and gave it up. There are
only two orders that matter: grace and sin – by not accepting faith, pagans
are automatically doomed to remain in sin.641 This is an excellent example of
failing to penetrate pagan thought and refusing to start a dialogue with their
religious ideas.
This element of the evaluation of the Slavic religion is visible in the emo-
tional climate of the chronicle’s description. An alternative to the chroni-
cler’s indifference in this case is a release of negative emotions (e.g. “dicere
perhorescam”).642 It is also worth paying attention to an element of terror
which is present in, for example “a reference to the wrath of gods and their
yearning for human offerings”, and it is also connected with the weirdness fac-
tor, e.g. the lake in Radogošč appears frightful (“horribile monstrat”), and the
local temple was to be built on the horns of a beast, or wild animals. Similarly,
the magnitude of Mt. Ślęża and its attributes decided its veneration, and its
exceptional sacral significance was emphasized by the chronicler, who used
epithets to refer to it as typical of holy mountains in model biblical images
(mons grandis et altus).
Finally, it is worth paying attention to various ways of expressing the char-
acter of the pre-Christian cult and its hierarchy. Worship of divine creatures or
some natural hierophanies treated “as a god” (the holy grove – Zutibure) was
distinguished from respect for the prophetic horse from Radogošč worshipped
as sacred (ut sacer). Thietmar also shows the hierarchy of cult places, when
speaking about principalis monarchia of Radogošč in comparison with other
temples in Polabia.643 Premises for hypothetical conclusions on this matter
can also be found by observing characteristic ways of using verb forms in the
chronicler’s account.
640 It is worth indicating the use of the term superstitio by Thietmar (VI, 41) to refer to negli-
gence of duties by a bishop.
641 It should be emphasized that the classical qualification of idolatry as putting the creation
above the Creator (Rom 1:25), on the pages of the Epistle of St. Paul to the Romans is
combined with emphasis on the fact that the pagans cannot excuse themselves from sins
by committing such an offence, as they can recognize the Creator looking at his works (cf.
Wis 13:1–9).
642 Hatred to pagan Slavs is pejoratively depicted e.g. in the expression avari canes, but it is
not reserved only for Slavs.
643 Meticulosity requires to mention also that the Glomač spring was more respected by local
people than churches, but this is only a vague indication in determination of the intensity
of this cult, because it is not known if they respected churches at all and if yes then to
what extent.
The Religion of the Slavs in Thietmar ’ s Chronicle 195
644 Hence the holy grove Zutibure was worshipped “in omnibus ut Deus” (this expression
can also reflect the information about a church built in its place and dedicated to “ad
honorem Christi”).
645 Thietmar did not use the word honorare to refer to worshipping the Glomač spring, which
most certainly was the major holiness of the Glomače country, which can weaken the pro-
posed here conclusion related to the rank of e.g. Ślęża mountain and Zutibure. However, it
is worth paying attention to the different character of this aquatic hierophany: in this case
miraculous phenomena (mira) are of essential significance here, hence the very spring
with the flood area, although evoking respect and awe, was not directly considered the
highest holiness, and was only the place of its revelation.
196 Chapter 2
646 Some doubts among researchers were raised by the information about inscriptions with
the names of idols in Radogošč temple; it was considered as the chronicler’s fantasy in-
spired by e.g. the equipment of churches. However, here one can also take into account
that this element was a form of copying church interiors by the Liutici who had opportu-
nities to come across them. The very idea of alphabetisation of barbarians, even if on such
a small scale, actually raises doubts.
Chapter 3
1 Adam, [Praefatio]. This manner of humble servant refers to St. Paul’s writing e.g. Eph 3:8;
1 Cor 15:9, and to some extent it seems to be an allusion to Christ’s verdict that his disciples
quarrelled about which one of them would be the greatest (see Lk 9:48).
2 Helmold I, 14: “Testis est magister Adam, qui gesta Hammemburgensis ecclesiae pontificum
disertissimo sermone conscripsit …” (“The witness is master Adam, who with great skill and
fluency described the deeds of the bishops of the Church in Hamburg …”).
3 The biography and personality of Adam of Bremen are discussed by: Max Manitius,
Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur d. Mittelalters, vol. 2 (München: Beck, 1923), pp. 398–
409; Bernhard Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. lii–lvii; Werner Trillmich, “Einleitung,”
in Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae Pontificum, ed. Werner Trillmich, in Quellen des 9. und
11. Jahrhunderts zur Geschichte der hamburgischen Kirche und des Reiches, (Ausgewählte
Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters. Freiherr vom Stein-Gedächtnisausgabe)
11 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1961), pp. 137–158; Francis J. Tschan,
“Introduction,” in Adam of Bremen, History of the Archbishops of Hamburg-Bremen, trans.,
introduction and notes Francis J. Tschan, reed. and new introduction Timothy Reuther (New
York: Columbia University Press, 2002, pp. xxv–xlvi); Timothy Reuther, “Introduction to the
2002 Edition,” in Adam of Bremen, History of the Archbishops, pp. xi–xxi; Walter Berschin,
Biographie und Epochenstil im lateinischen Mittelalter, vol. 4: Ottonische Biographie. Das hohe
Mittelalter. 920–1220 n. Chr., part 2: 1070–1220 n. Chr. (Stuttgart: Anton Hiersemann Verlag,
2001), pp. 212 ff.
4 Schmale, “Mentalität und Berichtshorizont,” p. 13.
5 Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. liii ff.; Trillmich, Einleitung, [in:] Gesta
Hammaburgensis, p. 137; Berschin, Biographie, pp. 211 f.; cf. Philipp Wilhelm Kohlmann,
Adam von Bremen. Ein Beitrag zur mittelalterlichen Textkritik und Kosmographie (Leipzig:
Quelle & Meyer, 1908); Edward Schröder, “Zur Heimat des Adam von Bremen,” Hansische
Geschichtsblätter 23 (1917), pp. 351–366.
6 B. Schmeidler as above; W. Trillmich as above.
7 Manitius, Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur, p. 398.
8 This fact is confirmed in a document from 11th June 1069 (see Hamburgisches
Urkundenbuch, vol. 1, ed. Johann Martin Lappenberg (Hamburg: Pertehs-Besser & Mauke,
1842), No. 101, p. 97), in which there is Adam’s original signature with the title of “ma-
gister scholarum”. See Schmeidler, as in footnote 5 in this page; Manitius, Geschichte der
lateinischen Literatur, p. 398, suspected that the reason for entrusting Adam with supervi-
sion of the cathedral school was Adalbert’s intention to raise its level. See also Trillmich,
“Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, pp. 137 f.
9 Adam, III, 54 (53).
10 Manitius, Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur, p. 398.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 199
not rated very highly by scholars.11 He did not acclimatize well in Bremen: he
found the Saxons there semi-pagan, with harsh customs, and regarded patriar-
chal relations in the environment of the cathedral, where he served as a canon,
rather offensive.12 He died in about 1085.13
He was well known as a famous geographer in the early Middle Ages, how-
ever one should remember that he had wider interests. He received excellent
preparation to start work on the theologically-oriented history of the Hamburg-
Bremen Church. Adam was also well-read and followed not only the Bible
but also the example of antique writers – Virgil and Lucan, Horace, Juvenal
and Ovid. His work was under profound influence of Sallustius, from whom
he borrowed whole sentences, which was certainly a custom in his times. It
is also difficult to imagine that the magister scholarum of Bremen would not
have encountered the thoughts of St. Augustine, but the question remains to
what degree they influenced him and his work. In this case an important input
was provided by the historical and theological thread of dualism present in
Augustinian historiology.14
It is important to mention, however, that the analyses provided below
are introducing a different perspective of research in this field. That is, they
take into account the specificity of civitas terrena as primarily good, and thus
not identifying it with civitas diaboli.15 This corresponds well with the presence
in Adam’s work of the image of barbarians in societies that cultivate praise-
worthy customs. However, if one takes into consideration the universality
of the binary model of confrontation of good and evil, the dominion of God
and dominion of devil, etc. in the Christian thought, as well as the presence of
the theological conviction about the primarily good nature of pagans present
already in the Bible, it is difficult to prove unambiguously that those models
were present in Adam’s work directly because of St. Augustine’s thought.
Adam’s scholarship was also influenced by the medieval historiography and
hagiography that he used as sources for the chronicle. One should mention
here a group of biographies, such as the Vita Anskari, Vita Rimberti, Vita
Willebrordi, Vita Willehadi, Miracula s. Willehadi by Rimbert, and Vita Karoli
Magni by Einhard (Adam I, 13). Adam also used chronicles and annals such as
the Historia Francorum of Gregory of Tours, the Gesta Francorum and Gesta
Anglorum, The Chronicle of Regino of Prüm, The Swabian World Chronicle, and
the Annals of Corvey. Geographical information, especially useful when writ-
ing Descriptio insularum aquilonis, was taken – perhaps not directly – from the
works by Orosius, Solinus, Martianus Capella, Macrobius, and Beda Venerabilis.16
His references within his work to diplomas awarded by emperors and popes,
metropolitan bishops of Hamburg-Bremen preserved “in scriniis ecclesiae nos-
trae”, i.e. in archdiocesan archives, and the Liber donationum Bremensis eccle-
siae are evidence of a thorough preparation as a historiographer.17
Some elements of this written legacy melted in Adam’s work into harmoni-
ous unity with the oral tradition of the environment of the Bremen cathedral.
He sought information from its archbishops and their subordinate suffragan
bishops, as well as the accounts of the king of Denmark Sven Estridsen, “who
kept all the deeds of the barbarians in [his] memory …”18 It was observed, how-
ever, that even in the details related to Sven’s mother, Adam made some errors.19
This demonstrates that he had a casual approach to some of the facts. This key
subject, as has already been mentioned, was the history of the local Church:
the gesta episcoporum of the Hamburg metropolis were to build a memorable
image of its ordinaries’ achievements.
In the historiography of the 20th c., Adam was frequently accused of being
partial and biased in the way he presented affairs of his own archdiocese.20 Yet
it seems that this “subjectivity” is present while pursuing the pragmatic goals
of his writing (causa scribendi). Especially since he declared that he was aware
of his responsibility for factual reference of the information he presented:
“having truth as a witness that nothing from my heart is prophesised, nothing
is thoughtlessly defined, but everything which I am about to putdown I will
16 Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. lxii f.; see also Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta
Hammaburgensis, pp. 147–149, where a few other, less important works are listed as inspi-
rations for Adam’s work.
17 Adam, [Praefatio]. See: Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, p. lxi; Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in
Gesta Hammaburgensis, pp. 143, 148.
18 Adam II, 43: “qui omnes barbarorum gestas res in memoria tenuit …”. Trillmich,
“Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, pp. 139 and 143, decided that Adam did not dis-
cuss current political issues with Sven.
19 It was observed by B. Schmeidler, see Adam II, 54, p. 114, footnote 4.
20 E.g. Manitius, Geschichte der lateinischen Literatur, p. 400; Leon Koczy, “Sklawanja Adama
Bremeńskiego,” Slavia Occidentalis 12 (1933), p. 186.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 201
corroborate with certain testimonies, so if one does not believe me, one would
at least give faith to the authority [of those testimonies].”21
Adam used concise and prudent language, not always grammatically and
stylistically correct, and he did not show any liking for sophisticated rhetori-
cal figures and extensive quotations. Some of his sentences lose clarity due to
an atypical selection of words and the breaking of stylistic rules to emphasize
the sense of his message. Regardless of the above reservations, the chronicler,
admittedly, showed that he was well-read in various types of literature and es-
pecially the Bible. He often used phraseology taken from the Psalms as well as
expressions and motifs from Classical Antique writing.
The literary value of Adam’s work does not really lie in its language quality
but more in the artful composition of his work.22 The author likely began his
work shortly after archbishop Adalbert’s death (1072).23 Book I is a history of
the Carolingian mission to Northern Europe and also the Hamburg Bishopric
until the year 936. Its central figures are the emperors Charlemagne and Louis
the Pious as well as the clergy and the Apostles of Europe: Anskar and Unni.
Among the events described in this part, the establishment of the archbishop-
ric in Hamburg and its later fall and merger into one metropolis with Bremen
are of key significance. The subject of Book II is a history of Hamburg and
Bremen archbishops from 937–1043. In a description of their missionary at-
tempts, Adam does not ignore the affairs of the Ottonian Empire and the for-
mation of monarchies in the North. He is also interested in Saxony, Slavic lands
(especially Elbslavs), and Viking expeditions.
These two historical books – written before the end of 107424 – are fol-
lowed by the third one, more biographical in style and devoted to the times
and achievements of Archbishop Adalbert (1043–1072). The book, in which the
magister scholarum from Bremen showed all his literary and historical talent
21 Adam, [Praefatio], p. 3: “… testem habens veritatem nihil de meo corde prophetari, nihil
temere definiri, sed omnia, quae positurus sum, certis roborabo testimoniis, ut si mihi
non creditur, saltem auctoritati fides tribuatur”.
22 Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, pp. 149 f.
23 For discussion on the content organisation and the time when the chronicle was written
see Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. lii–lxvi.
24 Schmeidler, as above, observed that during writing book II Adam received information
about Sven Estridsen’s death (the 28th of April 1074); cf. Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta
Hammaburgensis, p. 139.
202 Chapter 3
as well as sometimes – which was rather unusual in the epoch – a critical look
at the main character.25 It was finished before August 1075.26
Finally, the fourth book: Descriptio insularum aquilonis, as it has been men-
tioned above, is so much different in its form from the remaining books that
sometimes it was treated as a separated work and rewritten leaving out the first
three volumes. This description of the “islands of the North” de facto referred
also to lands which were not islands. It was an excellent work in the field of me-
dieval geography and ethnography. It starts with a presentation of Denmark,
and continues with the people living in coastal areas near the Baltic Sea and is-
lands, presents the oceanic lands of Iceland and Greenland after a description
of Sweden (Svetjud) and Norway,27 and finally presents Newfoundland (which
in the chronicle is called Vinlandia).28
The whole work ends with an epilogue apotheosizing the successor of the
above-mentioned archbishop Adalbert on the throne of the Hamburg and
Bremen metropolis – Liemar. The first version of the chronicle was ready in
1076. The continuing work of the author mainly consisted of adding glosses
and corrections to already written passages, and most probably lasted until the
end of his life.
The lack of the original of the work to some extent is compensated by codico-
logical research encompassing 25 manuscripts from the turn of the 11th/12th–
18th c.29 All manuscripts were divided by B. Schmeidler into three groups
25 The chronicler’s criticism was certainly dictated by the falling through of the plans of
the would-be patriarch which were considered too bold in the assessment of schol-
ars (Schmeidler, Trillmich) – Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, p. 140;
Berschin, Biographie, pp. 212 ff.
26 Precisely: before the 8th August, when Gottschalk’s son Budivoj died – see Schmeidler,
“Einleitung,” in Adam, p. lxvi; Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, p. 139.
Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 212, emphasizes that the chronology of events in book III is
not accurate due to the fact that it was strictly oriented at Adalbert.
27 Adam IV, 7, schol. 111, following ancient science, he thought that Scandinavia was an is-
land: “Ab hac insula primum egressi sunt Langobardi vel Gothi, et vocatur a historicis
Romanorum Scantia vel Ganavia sive Scandinavia”.
28 E.g. Helge Ingstad, The Norse Discovery of America, vol. 2: The Historical Background
and the Evidence of the Norse Settlement Discovered in Newfoundland (Oslo/Bergen/
Stavanger: Norvegian University Press, 1985), pp. 299–305; Grzegorz Witkowski, “Opis
wysp Północy jako dzieło etnografii wczesnośredniowiecznej,” in Studia z dziejów Europy
Zachodniej i Śląska, ed. Rościsław Żerelik (Wrocław: Instytut Historyczny Uniwersytetu
Wrocławskiego, 1995), pp. 30, 42 f.; F. Donald Logan, The Vikings in History (New York:
Routledge, 2005), p. 93.
29 For manuscripts of Adam’s works see Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. vii–xxxiv;
Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis, pp. 150–155.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 203
with reference to the same number of specimens that were not preserved.
According to this concept the first was to be a manuscript written by Adam
and under his dictation (A), and the second was its corrected copy given to
archbishop Liemar (α). The third specimen (X) is hypothetically manuscript A
supplemented with annotations, the so-called scholia (not precisely identified
with glosses30). On the basis of comparative analyses, it is hypothetically as-
sumed that 141 out of 186 glosses were written by Adam of Bremen.31 According
to the discussed concept specimen X would include a variety of Adam’s inter-
jections from an earlier text (some passages were removed, there were also
grammatical and stylistic changes), which, according to scholars, decreased
the quality of this work.32
According to Schmeidler, on the basis of the manuscript (α), the shortest
version of the whole work designed in stemma codicum as A1 was made. It
is the so-called Vienna Manuscript from the turn of the 12th and 13th c., pre-
served in the Library of the Imperial Court in Vienna which became the basis
of B. Schmeidler’s edition. The editor assumed that this version – based on the
manuscript corrected and supplied by Adam himself – gave an optimum pre-
sentation of the chronicler’s original intention. Another version, in the opin-
ion of B. Schmeidler still close to the first (hypothetical) manuscript created
with the intention of presenting it to archbishop Liemar, is to be also Codex
Vaticanus from 1451. The oldest of the manuscripts containing Adam’s Gesta
must be Codex Vossianus Latinus from about 1100, kept in the University Library
in Leiden, however it contains only a part of Book II and the whole of Book IV.33
Regardless of this, Anne K.G. Kristensen34 postulated to accept this version
(i.e. A2) as the primary basis in attempts to establish the original content of
the chronicle. She was involved in a more extensive polemic with Schmeidler’s
theses and negated the speculation that the copy of the chronicle made by
Adam for Liemar existed at all (i.e. α). Thereby Kristensen stated that the short-
est of the manuscripts, i.e. A1, was not the closest to the original. Moreover, the
authoress assumed that the chapters III, 72–78, considered by Schmeidler to
be an addition to Book III (and placed in square brackets), should be added to
Book IV. Certainly, this criticism of Schmeidler’s views, only signalled here, is
of hypothetical nature. However, it abates the power of his findings related to
stemma codicum and hence one should take into account a further distanc-
ing of this edition of the text of the chronicle – treated as primary for nearly a
century – from its original, than from what was assumed by this editor.
In the Middle Ages the work of Adam of Bremen did not enjoy much popu-
larity and was distributed mainly in northern Europe. Editions of the history
of the Church in Hamburg are discussed by B. Schmeidler in the introduction
to his own edition, and this list should be supplemented with the next edi-
tions, starting with W. Trillmich’s one from 1961 (with a German translation).35
The first printed edition was published by Andreas Severinus Vedel (Velleus) in
Copenhagen in 1579 on the basis of the manuscript from Sorö.36
“It has been laid out to us” – declares Adam in the Prologue addressed to
Liemar – “not to please everyone, but you, father, and your church.”37 This
statement makes one realize how strongly the genesis of this work was condi-
tioned by current matters of the Hamburg-Bremen metropolis. The reference
to Archbishop Adalbert’s activity was of key importance here. On one hand it
is possible to assume that Adam, even when the archbishop was still alive, had
a ready plan of the structure and content of his chronicle and did not express
his opinion on his pontificate, as he was rather skeptical about some of its as-
pects. On the other hand, it should be taken into account that it was exactly the
change on the metropolitan throne that stimulated him to review Adalbert’s
plans on the place of the Hamburg-Bremen archbishopric in the structure of
the Roman Church and the Empire, which was expressed in the interpretation
of history on the pages of Adam’s chronicle.
The archbishopric in Hamburg, established in 83438 by Louis the Pious,
gained in the 11th c. a slightly-falsified tradition created as an element of the
implementation of the already-mentioned Adalbert’s ambitious plans, in
which he made an attempt to subordinate Slavs living in areas reaching the
35 Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. xlv ff.; W. Trillmich, as in footnote 3 in this chapter.
And next e.g. Czech translation: Adam Brémský, Činy biskupů hamburského kostela. Velká
kronika evropského Severu, trans. Libuše Chrabová (Praha: Argo, 2009).
36 Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Adam, pp. xx, lxv.
37 Adam, [Praefatio]: “Nobis propositum est non omnibus placere, sed tibi, pater, et eccle-
siae tuae”.
38 For the sometimes quoted date of 831 (see e.g. Witkowski, “Opis wysp,” p. 18), possibly it re-
sults from adoption of dating the false papal bulla benefitting Hamburg in the same year;
see e.g. Gerard Labuda, “Hamburg,” in SSS, vol. 2, pp. 185 f.; Wavra, Salzburg und Hamburg,
pp. 252, 283 ff.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 205
Peene River. For this purpose – as was shown in B. Schmeidler’s research – false
papal bulls were attributed to Gregory IV from 831, Agapetus II from 847, and
John XV from 989. The content of false documents was influenced by the estab-
lishment of the Starigard/Oldenburg bishopric in 968, which was controlled by
the Hamburg metropolis and stretched its supervision to Elbslavs reaching the
Peene River.
It is noteworthy that the first authentic papal confirmation of Hamburg’s
rights to the Slavic lands is in the preserved original papal bull of Clement II,
issued in the first years of Adalbert’s pontificate in 1047. Hence, one should
take into account that missionary efforts of the Hamburg Archdiocese were
also directed to Elbslavs earlier, perhaps from the very beginning, but only in
favourable circumstances was it legalized by this papal document.39 However,
the main goal of Adalbert’s efforts was encompassing, with obedience, the
kingdoms of Scandinavia – Denmark, Sweden, and Norway.40 The impetus of
these plans was impressive, especially if one remembers the beginnings of the
Hamburg diocese, which did not prefigure much success. Regardless of its fer-
vency, St. Ansgar’s mission in Scandinavia brought rather limited results. Other
members of the Frankish clergy did even less. The invasion by the Danish king
Horik I in 845 was a blow which destroyed the young church in Hamburg. The
metropolitan seat was moved to the safer Bremen, preserving the continuity
of the institution. In practice this meant a union of bishoprics, which was not
favoured by everyone at that time.41
From the mid-11th c., when Bremen victoriously ended a period of over one
hundred years of rivalry with the English clergy for influence in Scandinavia,
the pontificate of Unwan (d. 1029) and especially Adalbert (d. 1072) created a
need for a tradition of metropolitan splendour.42 A political action started by
Adalbert and its achievements needed propaganda for justification. Bremen,
becoming at that time the cultural capital of northern Germany, had to have
an advantage over other Church centres to pursue Adalbert’s plans. They
39 Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, pp. 181 f; Wavra, Salzburg und Hamburg, pp. 254 f. For more
information in this matter see also Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 41 ff.
40 Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, p. 157; cf. Trillmich, “Einleitung,” in Gesta Hammaburgensis,
p. 140.
41 Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, p. 182. Details of the unification of bishoprics are discussed by
Wavra, Salzburg und Hamburg, pp. 256–258.
42 E.g. David M. Knowles, Dmitri Obolensky, Historia Kościoła, vol. 2: 600–1500 (Warszawa:
Instytut Wydawniczy PAX, 1988) [orig. Nouvelle Histoire de l’Eglise, vol. 2: Le Moyen Age
(600–1500) (Paris: Seuil, 1968)], p. 17.
206 Chapter 3
[and] most fertile mother of the peoples; seat of the metropolis (…) of all the
northern nations and capital of its diocese …”46
All activity of the main characters of the chronicle was conducted on the
motto ad gentes!, which influenced the content of geographical Book IV. In
older historiography, a view was expressed that Adam divided humanity into
the faithful and unfaithful, i.e. Christians and pagans, and he did not distin-
guish nations and peoples according to their language.47 However, such an
extreme concept cannot be defended. Although the influence of biblical no-
tions on the characteristics of the non-Christian peoples is visible (which is
discussed on numerous occasions below), one cannot say that slavish imita-
tion of biblical ideas occurs, especially if one takes into account such basic
terms as gens or populus.
It should also be mentioned that, e.g. in the Book of Genesis these terms are
connected with a speech community,48 which corresponds with a maxim that
became common in early medieval scholarship: gentem lingua facit (Isidore
of Seville). However, one language could be used by a few ethnical groups, de-
fined in medieval sources as gens,49 and this was the case in Adam of Bremen’s
chronicle, where he used this word in general characteristics of both Christian
and pagan peoples,50 observing also that the Slavic peoples do not differ in
speech and customs.51
The biblical influence on the way the word gens functions in Adam’s work
can be found in the context of presentation of non-Christian peoples as mis-
sionary space. The author habitually uses this term or, more precisely, its plural
form – gentes – as a synonym of the word pagans52 (also simply called – pagani,
gentiles). However, in the case of the term populus this type of theological con-
notation is not expressed; in the discussed chronicle the term is used with ref-
erence to non-Christian communities, or in the context clearly indicating such
character, or with appropriate epithet being a signpost in this matter.53
46 Adam III, 25: “fecundissima gentium mater […] veneranda”; III, 26: “metropolis sedes […]
omnium septentri onalium nationum et caput suae parochiae …”
47 Koczy, Sklawanja, pp. 187 f.
48 E.g. Vulgate, Gen 10:31: “isti filii Sem secundum cognationes et linguas et regiones in genti-
bus suis”; Gen 11:6: “ecce unus est populus et unum labium omnibus”.
49 E.g. Zientara, Świt, p. 22.
50 E.g. Adam II, 22: “Sclavi cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris” – see below, pp. 229 f. For
Saxons as gens see e.g. Adam I, 1, p. 4.
51 Adam II, 21.
52 Adam I, 58; II, 26; II, 72; III, 72; IV, 20.
53 E.g. Adam II, 5: gentilium populus. In the context: Adam I, 26: “…. ut ex eius [e.g. Olaf]
imperio et populi consensu …”.
208 Chapter 3
It is worth mentioning that this otherness of the terms populus and gens,
emphasized by the way Adam used them referring to pagans, corresponds with
the juxtaposition populus Israel – gentes, known from the Vulgate. So popu-
lus, when used to refer to a non-Christian community, required a more precise
definition with an adjective indicating their paganism, while the term gens,
burdened with biblical associations, was in principle related to pagan peoples
(gentes).54 Apart from this, the semantic range of both words defining human
communities is so limited that Adam replaced one with the other.55
The principal division of humankind, from the perspective of the chroni-
cler, is determined by the category of barbari. An ancient contradiction of the
imperium Romanum and barbaricum in the Middle Ages found its continua-
tion in the contradiction of the circle of civilization of Christian Europe and
barbaric peoples.56 Hence barbarus frequently functioned as meaning the
same as pagan, which was confirmed by the canon from Bremen numerous
times,57 however, this notion is not precisely a carrier of a conviction that a
given person or community belongs to the pagan circle. First and foremost, it
carries information that barbarians are strange, and also expresses an opinion
that their culture and social organization are inferior.58
This is why even a possible temporary or short-term affiliation with the
Christian circle does not mean that they are automatically relieved from the
odium of barbari attributed to them. This is what happened in the case of
the Polabian Slavs59 in Adam’s work, although he mentioned that at the time
when Adaldag was the archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen a bishopric was es-
tablished in Starigard, and he emphasized that in the times of its first bishops
(968–988) the Slavs became Christians.60
54 Johannes Nowak, Untersuchungen zum Gebrauch der Begriffe populus, gens und natio bei
Adam von Bremen und Helmold von Bosau (Münster: Diss. 1971); see also: Zientara, Świt,
p. 20; Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Uwagi w sprawie wczesnośredniowiecznej terminologii etnic-
znej,” in Pojęcia “Volk” i “Nation” w historiografii Niemiec, ed. Antoni Czubiński (Poznań:
UAM, 1980), pp. 179–182; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 69 ff., 191 f.
55 E.g. Adam II, 15.
56 Zientara, Świt, p. 21.
57 E.g. Adam I, 33; II, 26; III, 72; III 77; IV, 1.
58 E.g. Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, “Z badań nad narodzinami stereotypów Słowian w historio-
grafii zachodniej wczesnego średniowiecza,” in Wokół stereotypów Polaków i Niemców,
ed. Wojciech Wrzesiński, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia) 79 (Wrocław:
Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1991), pp. 35 f.; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische
Norden, pp. 280 ff.
59 Adam, II, 43: “[Suein] … omnes barbarorum gestas res in memoria tenuit …”. Sven
Estridsen is mentioned here as an informer about the Slavic rebellion during the pontifi-
cate of Libentius. See below, p. 237.
60 Adam II, 26: “quorum tempore Sclavi permanserunt christiani”.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 209
61 Jerzy Kłoczowski, Młodsza Europa (Warszawa: PIW, 1998), p. 32, emphasizes that Adam
“nearly identifies conversion with obedience to archbishops neglecting any other initia-
tives or even church decisions”, which is a sign – in a historical source and some time ago
also a tool in ideological struggle – of rivalry between missionary centres.
62 See above, pp. 79 ff.
63 Adam II, 26.
64 Ibidem: “de XX pagos (…) absque tribus ad Christianam fidem omnes fuisse conversos …”
65 Adam II, 5: Henry having defeated the Slavs in Lunkini (Lenzen) in 929 “… constrinxit,
ut tributum et christianitatem pro vita simul et patria libenter offerrent victori, baptiza-
tusque est totus gentilium populus, ecclesiae in Sclavania tunc primum constructae”; cf.
Adam I, 56; the Slavs defeated in 929 “regi tributum et Deo christianitatem promitterent.”
66 Adam II, 15: “subiugatis Christianaeque fidei copulatis Sclavorum gentibus inclytam
urbem Magedburg super ripas Albiae fluminis condidit, quam Sclavis metropolem
statuens …”
67 Ibidem: “multosque Sclavorum populos (…) predicando convertit.”
210 Chapter 3
strived directly to win souls by words and deeds.68 The chronicler also states
that success of evangelical action is easier to achieve for people sharing the
language and customs with the barbarians.69
This essential reflection referring to the missionary practice can be read as
Adam’s way of expressing empathy with the barbarians. Thus it is not acciden-
tal that in older (especially Polish) research he was attributed with impartiality
in his approach to pagan issues, and in consequence also to the issue of the
Slavs; his joy that resulted from conversion of pagans and indignation directed
to those who challenged these efforts was emphasized.70 However, considering
this approach as “impartial” seems poorly justified. In this case the intention of
the author for whom the basic criterion used in assessment of pagans or bar-
barians was their openness to the mission of Christianization is what matters.
It is hard not to notice his negative approach to the Slavs when they turned
against Christianity by trying to lift the Saxon burden by force.71
Adam’s interest in Slavdom is strictly related to the history of the Hamburg-
Bremen mission on Slavic lands.72 Hence the chronicler devoted a lot of at-
tention to the Polabian peoples trying to describe their tribal divisions and
presenting a few of their “towns” (urbs, civitas) as well as their relations with
the Germans (Saxons) and the Danes. There were also records about other
Slavic countries and nations, including a few observations about Poles. In his
presentation of the history and geography of the Slavs, Master Adam depend-
ed mainly on oral tradition received from King Sven Estridsen,73 archbishop
Adalbert,74 and preeminently from merchants and missionaries.75
It is striking that Adam privileges a special, less popular word to describe
the Slavdom – Sclavania,76 however, it should be mentioned that this term
occurred over seventy years earlier in the Gospel Books of Otto III. It is one
version of a name of an allegorical female character who personified the
Kingdom of the Slavs (however, the word Sclauinia occurs in this context more
often).77 The fundamental lecture on the Slavic people (“de natura et gentibus
Sclavaniae”) was included by Adam in chapters 20–23 of the second book of
his chronicle. It is possible, however, that these passages were not a part of the
original version and were added later, because in terms of content they differ
from the whole structure of Book II.78
Although Adam’s approach presents some errors, it should be noted that
these are generally not the same errors as the ones which occurred in the ear-
lier cosmography, which he also knew quite well. So it is not accidental that
in the positivist historiography he gained high marks for originality. His work
was well summarized in Leon Koczy’s opinion: “The image of Sclavania, as is
presented by Adam in the second volume and partly in some other parts of his
work, is a contemporary picture independent of the Classical literature.”79
The quoted sentence about the “independence” from the Classical
literature – as will be shown in the studies below – expresses excessive opti-
mism, however it is not worth deploring. In the perspective of studies on the
interpretation of primary religions in the mental culture of the 11th and 12th c.,
research on literary infiltration from Classical Antique heritage is an important
element in the whole discussion of this problem. A study of stereotypes and
cultural topoi conditioning the way strangers were perceived seems equally
important in this case in which anthropological inspiration was essential.
“Barbarzyńska Europa” [The Barbarian Europe] (2004), by Karol
Modzelewski, is a work that demonstrates that the chronicle written by Adam
of Bremen acts as an excellent foundation for such studies. Its findings close-
ly correspond with the method of approaching cultural fact proposed in the
first version of this work, which allows these synthetic studies of Modzelewski
to be taken into consideration in a harmonious way in the current version of
this dissertation. In the undertaken investigations of the interpretation of Old
Slavic cults and beliefs in the light of the chronicle of magister scholarum from
Bremen, the dissertations of Volker Scior80 and David Fraesdorff81 turn out to
be useful; considering their claims enables a deeper reflection on the chroni-
cler’s attitude to the Polabian tribes, perceived as “foreign,” and their culture,
as well as continuing the discussion on some more detailed issues (see below
in this chapter).
However, one should emphasize that the leading theme of historical anthro-
pology in these dissertations was strongly developed also by other researchers
of the old Slavdom. Apart from Modzelewski, Christian Lübke is especially
notable.82 It is complementary to the study proposed here on the cultural in-
terpretation of the pre-Christian religion, observed first of all from the per-
spective that was conditioned by theological rationale.
2.1 Rethra
In the excursus devoted to the Slavdom, Adam of Bremen emphasized the lead-
ing role of the Redars among the mentioned Polabian tribes and then moved
on to present their most famous centre:
“Their best known city is Rethra, a seat of the idolatry. There a big temple
was built for the demons, of whom Redigast is the prince. His statue is of gold,
[his] bed laid out with purple. That city has got nine gates, surrounded by a
deep lake from all sides; a wooden bridge offers passage, the way across it is
permitted only to those who are to sacrifice or to beseech oracles.”83 This ref-
erence is not a borrowing from Thietmar’s description of Radogošč,84 which
increases the informative value of this passage of Adam’s work. In both sources
one can find some details of the community and of the model of the Slavic
sanctuary. This reinforces Thietmar’s credibility in the matter of Svarožic’s cult:
after over half a century his information gained partial confirmation on the
basis of retrogression.
The discussion about the main capital of the Liutici has become a stable ele-
ment in studies on the West Slavic religion.85 The first of the discussed issues
is the identification of Rethra with Radogošč, which is usually considered a
settled matter. Additionally, Adam gave important information about the lo-
cation of the stronghold: four days away from Hamburg.86 Discrepancies be-
tween details mentioned by Thietmar and Adam can be explained either by
inaccurate information about the cult centre itself or by changes in its arrange-
ment conducted within half a century.
The latter solution leads to the conclusion that the cult stronghold was
moved to an island on a lake which was only accessible over a bridge, and ac-
cording to Adam, only sacrificers and those who came to ask for an oracle had
access. Nine gates, instead of three in Thietmar’s work, support the idea of the
growing splendour of this centre. Although, one should not forget here about
a well-reasoned thesis put forward by Roderich Schmidt. He argued that this
number is a result of a symbolical interpretation of reality. Adam’s account
could confirm the view about the growing wealth of the temple as he mentions
the use of gold as a material to decorate a statue or the colour purple to cover
the bed on which it was placed.
83 Adam, II, 21: “civitas eorum vulgatissima Rethre, sedes ydolatriae. Templum ibi mag-
num constructum est demonibus, quorum princeps est Redigast. Simulacrum eius auro,
lectus ostro paratus. Civitas ipsa IX portas habet, undique lacu profundo inclusa; pons
ligneus transitum prebet, per quem tantum sacrificantibus aut responsa petentibus via
conceditur”.
84 The opposite opinion was expressed by Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 334.
85 For a report of the discussion and literature see J. Strzelczyk, “Radogoszcz,” in SSS,
vol. 4, pp. 450–451; Stanisław Rosik, “Połabskie władztwo ‘księcia demonów’. Teologiczne
uwarunkowania opisów pogańskich wierzeń i kultu w przekazach o religii Słowian,” in
Studia z historii średniowiecza, ed. Mateusz Goliński, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis.
Historia) 163 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2003), pp. 7–21.
86 Dralle, “Rethra,” pp. 52 f., estimates that the distance was two hundred kilometers and on
the basis of Helmold’s data localises Rethra in the border zone between the Redars and
the Tollenser. Certainly the distance expressed as “four days” could be shorter than two
hundred kilometers.
214 Chapter 3
This detail has raised numerous doubts among some scholars.87 For the hy-
percritical E. von Wienecke it became a premise upon which he considered
the whole description as false and composed on the basis of information
about a temple in Uppsala.88 Nevertheless one should remember that the first
source testimony of the existence of statues of deities in Slavdom, provided
by Widukind of Corvey, mentions a copper figure of Saturn seized by Saxons
in Wagrian Starigard.89 This increases the confidence in the information that
the statue in Rethra was really made using gold (e.g. it was covered with metal
sheets), taking into account that the temple there was more significant than
the Starigard sanctuary.90
The use of gold to make a figure of Triglav worshipped in Szczecin is also
mentioned in the hagiography of St. Otto of Bamberg in a description of his
mission in Pomerania in the 1120s.91 This information, however similar to the
description of the Redigast cult, is discussed as a possible influence of stereo-
typical images of idolatry based especially on biblical tradition. Such influenc-
es are hypothetically recognized in Adam’s vision of the Uppsala temple (e.g.
the motif of golden chain),92 but on the other hand there is some archaeologi-
cal data that could be used to support the claim about the reliability of written
sources on the subject.93 Because of the nature of the sources, an unambigu-
ous solution to the problem appears impossible.
The arrangement of the sanctuary in Rethra is another premise supporting
the thesis about the occurrence of henotheistic trends in the beliefs of western
Slavdom.94 Additionally, the character of the deity worshipped there is rather
intriguing. Thietmar mentions that all gods were equipped with war accesso-
ries (meaning also Svarožic), while Adam of Bremen allows a god to be seen
in Rethra which primarily personified the royal, sovereign power. This clear
87 E.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 65. However, Słupecki, “Słowiańskie posągi,” p. 64, did
not see anything surprising in the use of gold and the colour purple.
88 Wienecke, Untersuchungen, pp. 24 f. Adam (IV, 26) stated that gold was used to build this
temple.
89 Widukind III, 68, p. 82. See above, pp. 54 f.
90 Słupecki, “Słowiańskie posągi,” pp. 65; cf. idem, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 227.
91 Ebo II, 13.
92 See e.g. Anders Hultgård, “Från ögonvittnesskildring till retorik: Adam av Bremens notiser
om Uppsalakulten i religionshistorisk belysning,” in Uppsalakulten och Adam av Bremen,
ed. Anders Hultgård (Nora: Nya Doxa, 1997), pp. 9–50.
93 The opinion of Frands Herschend in: Anne-Sofie Gräslund, “Adams Uppsala – och arke-
ologins,” in Uppsalakulten och Adam av Bremen, ed. A. Hultgård, Nora1997, pp. 108 f.
94 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 203, talks here even about complete domination of Radogost or
Svantevit over polidoxy elements.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 215
discrepancy between the sources in the matter of the name of the major deity
of the Redars was explained in a number of ways.
A. Brückner’s skeptical views that “only by Adam of Bremen’s mistake, a
new deity Radzigost, was imagined!”95 were supported in Gerard Labuda’s
etymological argumentation. This author derived the local name “Radogost”
from two words: “redny” (marshy) and “gozd” (forest),96 which allows both
a local name and a characteristic of the natural environment in which the
sanctuary was established to be found in this name of the deity mentioned
by Adam. Linguistic research indicates another possibility referring to the
water name, in which it is possible to hear the sound of flowing, stormy water,
and a lake, which is related to the location of the sanctuary on an island or a
peninsula.97 The “Radogošč” would be a name of a lake, an island, and first and
foremost a town on a lake.
The assumption that the name “Radogost” (“Redigast”) was a pseudo-
theonym did not enjoy extensive support among historians of Slavic religion.
The dominant view is that the name mentioned by Adam was Svarožic’s so-
briquet, which finally occluded the original theonym confirmed by Thietmar.98
The very name Radogost is related to the local name Radogošč, which would
indicate that the theonym was coined as Svarožic’s local sobriquet. It seems
less probable that Svarožic’s worship was eliminated by the cult of a new deity,
95 The assumption of Adam of Bremen’s credibility in the Rethra issue was fiercely rejected
by Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 33; in other places there is a whole range
of negative assessments of Adam’s information – ibidem, p. 74: confusion; p. 190: fairy
tales; p. 193: sin; p. 200: fabrication. Brückner derived the name Rethra from the name of
Redars: “Radegast was not a town like Arkona, it was a poor village with a temple, from
which the Germans kidnapped only the horse of god, but did not conquer any treasure:
this is why instead of the name of the place it was enough to use the name of the tribe:
Redari – Rethra” (ibidem, p. 334); cf. Moszyński, Die vorchristliche Religion, p. 75. It is
worth remembering about this position to realise the significance of the development
of primary source studies over the last century in the assessment of the value of Adam of
Bremen’s work not only in religion history studies, but also the cultural interpretation of
>>the others<< with consideration for the literary value of the source.
96 See Gerard Labuda, “Mitologia i demonologia w słownictwie, w bajkach, baśniach i leg-
endach kaszubskich,” in Materiały ogólnej sesji naukowej pt. Świat bajek, baśni i legend
kaszubskich (Wejherowo: Muzeum Piśmiennictwa i Muzyki Kaszubsko-Pomorskiej w
Wejherowie, 1979), p. 13.
97 Moszyński, Die vorchristliche Religion, pp. 77 f. See also Ackenheil, Gottheiten, p. 7.
98 E.g. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 169. According to Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 170 f., “similarly to
Svarožic sun–Dazbog and Svarožic fire, this Svarožic has got also his personal name –
Radogost”. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 27, 188, claimed that the name of Svarožic
was substituted by another alternative one, which eliminated it from use, which was sup-
ported by a lack of information about Svarožic after Thietmar.
216 Chapter 3
If, since Thietmar’s times, there had also been changes in the location, con-
struction, and décor of the central Liutici temple, and there are numerous ar-
guments supporting this view (also the said dissemination of the new name
of the major deity), one should then take into account the evolution of the
local system of cult and beliefs in the direction of monolatry. This is indicated
by information about only one deity worshipped in the sanctuary in which
its statue was located.104 It is essential to mention that the statue was made
of gold. The symbolism of this metal is solar, which in the case of the major
deity indicates appreciation of the trend to concentrate sovereign power over
the pantheon around it.105 The validity of this interpretation is confirmed by
emphasis on the fact that the couch was covered with the colour purple.106
This high rank of Redigast remains in agreement with the use in the said de-
scription of a calque of the world of demons led by their princeps, known from
the Gospel.107 Then the Slavic god and his statue in Rethra in this perspec-
tive are an embodiment of this biblical figure.108 Hence, there is the question
of whether demons, mentioned collectively in this passage, are theologically
interpreted as particular deities who were worshipped in the sanctuary. It is
doubtful. This is supported by the comparison of a description of Rethra with
a passage about a temple in Uppsala, in which Adam of Bremen speaks about
a miraculous healing of blindness of a priest there after he abandoned idolatry.
According to the chronicler, this priest earlier served demons (“demonibus
astare solebat”), however because of the lack of a support of gods (“diis”) he
lost sight, yet the object of his cult were idols (literally “cultura ydolorum, quam
104 Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, p. 226, wondered whether on the basis of the analogy in de-
scriptions of the seaside Slavic sanctuaries one can assume that Redigast’s statue was
polycephalic, which would strengthen the hypothesis on the identical arrangement of
Rethra and temples with one statue on Rügen or in Szczecin. The existence of polyce-
phalic representations outside the seaside zone in Brandenburg near Brenna is confirmed
by Henry of Antwerp; see below, p. 338, footnote 376.
105 This appreciation of the solar element in the Polabian cult furthers the hypothesis on the
appearance aspirations to consolidate power in Slavic communities, see above, pp. 364 f.
106 Słupecki, “Słowiańskie posągi,” p. 66, finds an analogy to Thor’s throne in Uppsala and
connected the purple of Redigast’s bed with his (hypothetical) elevation as the “god of
gods” known from Helmold’s work (see below, pp. 345 ff.).
107 The Evangelists present episodes in which Jesus was accused of expelling demons with
the power of their ruler, see Mc 3:22: “… dicebant quoniam Beelzebub habet et quia in
principe daemonum eicit daemonia”; Mt 9:34: “Pharisaei autem dicebant in principe dae-
moniorum eicit daemones”; Mt 12:27: “… et si ego in Beelzebub eicio demones”.
108 Similarly in the Letter of St. Bruno of Querfurt to king Henry II Svarožic appears as dia
bolus, see above p. 108.
218 Chapter 3
109 On the issue of Adam’s use of the terms idolum and simulacrum see also: Hultgård, Från
ögonvittnesskildring.
110 Cf. Adam I, 7, where it is said that pagan cult is addressed to existences which were not
gods by nature (“qui natura non erant dii”).
111 Adam IV, 28: “Quidam e sacerdotibus, qui ad Ubsolam demonibus astare solebat, nequic-
quam iuvantibus diis factus est cecus …” (“One of the priests, who used to assist demons
in Uppsala, went blind while the gods were fruitlessly helping him out …”). On a cult
object: “cultura ydolorum, quam superstitiose venerans …” (“cult of the idols which he
superstitiously worshipped …”). And the successful ending: “… visum reciperet abiectis,
quae ante colebat, simulacris.” (“… he got back sight after having rejected the images
which he had previously worshipped.”)
112 Adam IV, 26; for the issue of the temple in Uppsala see e.g. Peter G. Foote, David M.
Wilson, Wikingowie, trans. Wacław Niepokólczycki (Warszawa: PIW, 1975 [orig. The Viking
Achievement. London: Sidgwick & Jackson, 1973]), pp. 55f., 362 f., 372 f.; Henrik Janson,
Templum nobilissimum. Adam av Bremen, Uppsalatemplet och konfliktlinjerna i Europa
kring år 1075, (Avhandlingar från Historiska institutionen i Göteborg) 21 (Göteborg:
Historiska institutionen i Göteborg, 1998).
113 See above, p. 101.
114 See Olof Sundqvist, “Gudme on Funen: A central sanctuary with cosmic symbolism?,”
in The Gudme/Gudhem Phenomenon, ed. Oliver Grimm, Alexandra Pesch (Neumünster:
Wachholtz Verlag GmbH, 2011), pp. 63–76, esp. 71 f.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 219
forms, such as divination, offerings or spells – Adam connected all these activi-
ties with demons, emphasizing the presence of their manifestations in a par-
ticular man.115 The very conviction that there was a relation between demons
and idols results from interpretatio biblica of the pagan sacrum.
In this concept deities neither exist nor do their statues have any supernatu-
ral properties by themselves, but surrounding them with cult was exactly what
introduced an individual man and whole communities into relations with an-
tisacrum. This thought found its continuation in patristics – e.g. in the writing
of St. Cyprian116 or Augustine117 – and was confirmed by liturgical practice in
church, such as the performance of exorcisms over things.118 In this doctrinal
context Rethra as sedes ydolatriae seems to be presented like an apocalyptic
civitas Babylon in the Bible called habitatio demoniorum.119
115 Adam II, 57, p. 117: “Nam et divini et augures et magi et incantatores ceterisque satellites
Antichristi habitant ibi, quorum pretigiis et miraculis infelices animae ludibrio demoni-
bus habentur” (“For all the diviners, augurs, mages, enchanters, and the other attendants
of the Antichrist live there, [and] because of their tricks and miracles the unfortunate
souls become a mockery for the demons.”); in the context of this passage Adam men-
tioned, that Olaf, the King of Norway (1015–1030) requested the persecution of the said
fortune tellers, magicians and other “antichrist’s companions” to strengthen the Christian
religion. In assessing results of the forbidden practices Adam agrees here with St. Cyprian
(see footnote 116 in this chapter) and St. Augustine – see St. Augustine, De doctrina christi-
ana, 20.30–25.38, see: Św. Augustyn, De doctrina Christiana / O nauce chrześcijańskiej, Latin
and Polish text, ed. and trans. Jan Sulowski (Warszawa: Instytut Wydawniczy PAX, 1989),
pp. 82–91. Similarly e.g. Herbord III, 24, p. 187: with reference to pagan priests he says
“pleni demonibus”. L. von Padberg, “Christen,” pp. 292–297, presents a Christian image of
pagans in the then Middle Ages, emphasizing exactly this “demonization” resulting from
participation in cult.
116 Discussing the nature of demons, St. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage (died in 258), claims that
“these demons hide in statues and cult images”, adding that they guide oracles and divi-
nations of soothsayers of all types and gain control over people’s bodies (cf. St. Cyprian,
Quod idola dii non sint, 8 – see Św. Cyprian, Pogańskie bóstwa nie są bogami (Quod idola
dii non sint), introduction and trans. Marek Kondratowicz, Vox Patrum 11/12 (1991/1992)
20–23, pp. 444 f.). For more information on St. Cyprian’s views on idolatry and demono-
latry see e.g.: Jeffrey Burton Russel, Satan, the Early Christian Tradition (Ithaca: Cornell
University Press, 1981), p. 221; Marek Kondratowicz, “Wokół ‘Quod idola dii non sint’ św.
Cypriana Kartagińskiego,” Vox Patrum 8 (1988) 15, pp. 668 f.
117 St. Augustine in his commentary on the Psalms proves that the worshipper of the stat-
ues does not pay attention to the fact that a statue similar to a real body is devoid of an
alive inhabitant. In this theological perspective such attitude of people induces demons
to occupy statues of pagan gods, and their presence multiplies errors and spreads “deadly
deceptions”. Cf. Św. Augustyn [St. Augustine], Objaśnienia Psalmów (Ps. 103–123), trans.
Jan Sulowski, ed. Emil Stanula (Warszawa: Akademia Teologii Katolickiej, 1986), pp. 190 f.
118 See e.g. Nadolski, Liturgika, vol. 3, pp. 250 f.
119 Cf. Rev 18:2. In addition to this, simulacrum aurum of Redigast in Rethra evokes an asso-
ciation with Rev 9, 20: “simulacra aurea et argentea et aerea et lapidea et lignea …”.
220 Chapter 3
120 Adam II, 21: “… credo ea significante causa, quod perditas animas eorum, qui idolis servi-
unt, congrue novies Stix interfusa cohercet”.
121 This view is well located in trends of the theology of that time, in which performance of
“ungodly rituals” led pagans to death and was understood as eternal damnation in hell.
E.g. in the lives of St. Adalbert there is a quotation of a missionary catechesis whose ele-
ment was freeing from the power of the devil and the abyss of the horrendous hell, to
which people were led by the cursed pagan rituals and the cult of idols. See: Vita Adalberti,
ed. Jürgen Hoffmann, in Jürgen Hoffmann, Vita Adalberti. Früheste Textüberlieferungen
der Lebensgeschichte Adalberts von Prag (Essen: Klartext, 2005), 28, and Vita Adalberti II,
25; see Wolny, “Z dziejów katechezy,” pp. 168 f. The state of potential damnation of pagans,
i.e. immersion in death is concisely described by St. Bruno of Querfurt in Vita quinque
fratrum eremitarum (seu) vita uel passio benedicti et Iohannis sociorumque suorum auctore
Brunone Querfurtensi, ed. Jadwiga Karwasińska, MPH n.s. 4/3 (1973), 22: mortui pagani; see
Bylina, Człowiek, pp. 34 f.
122 See editor’s comments in: Adam II, 21, p. 78.
123 Schmidt, “Rethra,” pp. 384 ff. The author shows the occurrence of number three and nine
(as a multiplication of three, augmentation) as a characteristic feature of medieval per-
spective of paganism and consistently analyses these numerical data in Thietmar’s de-
scription of Radogošč and Adam’s description of Rethra as examples of a general trend.
124 E.g. 99 offerings in Leire mentioned by Thietmar (I, 17).
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 221
128 For symbolism of number three see e.g. Forstner, Świat, pp. 43 f.
129 Koczy, “Sklawanja,” p. 229, paid attention to the same issue emphasizing that Rethra
turned out to be even more famous than Iumne (certainly Wolin), according to Adam,
unquestionably the richest centre of Slavdom defined as civitas opulentissima Slavorum
and nobilissma, see Adam II, 22; II, 79, schol. 56 (57). Towns ranked lower than Iumne
encompassed Demmin – civitas maxima, and Starigard – magna.
130 Cf. Adam I, 12, on Willehad of Frisia: “ydola confregisse populos ad culturam veri Dei
euangelizasse dicitur”; schol. 20: “… rex Haraldus abiecta ydolatria (…) ad colendum
verum Deum se convertit”. The word ydola consistently refers to the antithesis of God –
Adam II, 30: “Suein derelictus a Deo, frustra sperans in ydolis suis.” Similarly ydolatria as a
synonym of paganism is juxtaposed with Christianity – see Adam II, 41: “Ipse (i.e. Sven –
S.R.) igitur mox destructo ritu ydolatriae christianitatem in Nortmania per edictum sus-
cipere iussit”; see also schol. 26.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 223
131 Schmidt, “Rethra,” pp. 371 f., indicated an analogy to Adam’s image of Rethra, in similari-
ties in the description of Marklo, created as the centre of the Saxon tribes which in pagan
times were not yet governed by the royal authority.
132 Adam III, 21, schol. 71: “Fama est eo tempore duos monachos a Boemiae saltibus in civi-
tatem Rethre venisse. Ubi dum verbum Dei publice annunciarent, concilio paganorum,
sicut ipsi desideraverunt, diversis primo suppliciis examinati ad ultimum pro Christo de-
collati sunt. Quorum nomina quidem hominibus incognita, ut veraciter credimus, in celo
scripta sunt.”
133 Similarly the motif of Christian martyrdom is repeated in the characteristics of the tem-
ple in Uppsala, Adam IV, schol. 141.
134 For more information see below, p. 244.
135 Adam III, 51. However, “in platea” can mean on a square, courtyard, e.g. in front of a
temple.
136 The same e.g. Dralle, “Rethra,” p. 38, claimed that the mass meeting during which the
Bohemian monks lost their lives, was placitum generale of the Liutici. See also Zernack,
Die burgstädtischen Volkversammlungen, pp. 208 ff.
224 Chapter 3
137 Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” p. 131, emphasized that in towns located at the mouth of the
Oder, in the 12th c. councils took place near fairs, not near temples. It is worth observing,
however, that the said early urban centres except for fairs, also had temples with priests,
whose influence on decisions of the community participating in the meeting is con-
firmed in St. Otto of Bamberg hagiography (e.g. VP III, 8; Ebo III, 15; Herbord III, 17), and
above, pp. 126 f., and below, pp. 335, 359. See also Jacek Banaszkiewicz, “Otto z Bambergu
i pontifex idolorum. O urządzeniu i obyczaju miejsca wiecowego pogańskiego Szczecina,”
in Biedni i bogaci. Studia z dziejów społeczeństwa i kultury ofiarowane Bronisławowi
Geremkowi w sześćdziesiątą rocznicę urodzin, ed. Maurice Aymard et al. (Warszawa: PWN,
1992), pp. 275–284; Rosik, Conversio, pp. 255, 456 ff.
138 However, the very presence of the Bohemian evangelisers in Polabia falls within the
bounds of probability given lively contacts between both countries as early as the 10th
c. See Łowmiański, Religia, p. 194. See also Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 187; Ludat, “Die
Patriarchatsidee,” pp. 326 f.
139 See above, p. 223. In this situation “in platea” in the description of the martyrdom of bish-
op John should be referred to the courtyard or square in Rethra.
140 Similarly to the Wagrian sanctuary of Prowe (see below, p. 335). Such connection of the
assembly and oracle should be taken into account in the case of the Liutici even on the
basis of the description of Radogošč in Thietmar’s chronicle (see above, pp. 128 ff.).
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 225
141 Banaszkiewicz, “Jedność porządku,” p. 447. See also Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde,
pp. 117 f.
142 Even at the time of earlier Christianization attempts, the Slavic people could still worship
the famous sanctuary, in the name of which sounds the word “advice” (Polish “rada”) for
“guest” (Polish “gość”) – see ibidem, p. 448.
143 A convincing argument for it is distinguishing the Redars and Rethra among “numer-
ous Slavic peoples” (“populi Sclavorum multi”) listed in this passage and treated as one
whole entity living between the Elbe and Oder (“qui inter Albiam et Oddaram degunt”),
cf. Adam II, 21.
144 For referring to Hamburg as a metropolis, see e.g. Adam I, 15; II, 15, etc. (according to the
index [in:] Adam, p. 303).
145 Adam IV, 20, schol. 127.
146 Adam III, 50.
147 Pointing at an another bishopric see as an antithesis of Rethra in Adam’s view (e.g.
Mecklemburg because of the martyrdom of bishop John of Mecklemburg in Rethra, see
below p. 244) seems to be less justified. According to the chronicler Rethra was a capital of
idolatry, and this is why Hamburg-Bremen metropolis as the leading centre of missions in
the Barbarian North seem to be the best hypothetical proposal of the discussed antithesis.
226 Chapter 3
Augustani (under the year 1068).148 Even such spectacular success of the suf-
fragan bishop of the Mainz metropolis was not worth mentioning on the pages
of a work devoted to the history of the Hamburg-Bremen metropolis.
2.2 Iumne
After depicting the famous Liutici sanctuary, the chronicler moved the focus
of his attention to the inhabitants of the Oder mouth: “Behind the Liutici,
known also as Veleti, floats the Oder River, the opulentest river in the Slavic
region. In its estuary, where it joins the Scythian Marshes, the famous city of
Iumne constitutes the best-known harbor for the Barbarians and the Greeks
that are around.”149 Then the famous town was located at the “Scythian
Marshes.” This element of mythical geography corresponds with the claim
that Iumne was populated with “Barbarians and Greeks,” where they found the
“most famous” port.
This account – at least what emerges from the chronicler’s declaration – was
to limit the expansion of untrue rumours about the “most excellent” town: “For
a praise of the city I have decided that it is kind to mention a few words worth
passing over, as numerous wonderful things are said about it, although they are
hard to believe.”150 Ironically this narration came on the threshold of the birth
of the Vineta legend, the oldest testimony of which can be found in the chroni-
cle of Helmold of Bosau151 more than a century later. He presented this ancient
148 Annales Augustani, under the year 1068, p. 128. According to this report, the invaders stole
a holy horse (see above, pp. 129 ff.), which was not mentioned by master Adam either.
149 Adam II, 22: “Ultra Leuticios, qui alio nomine Wilzi dicuntur, Oddara flumen occurit, di-
tissimus amnis Sclavaniae regionis. In cuius ostio, qua Scyticas alluit paludes, nobilissima
civitas Iumne celeberrimam praestat stationem Barbaris et Grecis, qui sunt in circuitu”.
150 Ibidem: “De cuius praeconio urbis, quia magna quaedam et vix credibilia recitantur, vo-
lupe arbitror pauca inserere digna relatu”.
151 In Helmold’s chronicle, the title of chapter 2 is De civitate Vinneta (in all existing codices),
however in other places codices differ from one another – Iumneta, iumta, iumenta, ui-
neta, vinneta, ninieta, Immuueta, Vimneta. The deformed beginning of the name Iumne
in Helmold’s work, in all variants can be explained by a paleographic mistake, however,
a more problematic issue is the explanation for the ending ‘ta’, which is the same in all
variants of Helmold’s chronicle and did not occur in any earlier writers’ works (Adam of
Bremen, Annalist Saxo). It will have to be explained by Latinisation of the unclear name
of Iumne, which gained wording referring to the Vinedi. This view has already been for-
mulated by Jacobus Langebek, Scriptores Rerum Danicarum Medii Aevi, vol. 1 (Hafniae:
Godiche, 1772), pp. 51–52, footnote h, and it was solidified in historical studies; cf. Ryszard
Kiersnowski, Legenda Winety. Studium historyczne (Kraków: Wydawnictwo Studium
Słowiańskiego Uniwersytetu Jagiellońskiego, 1950), pp. 41f.; it was not shared by Mikołaj
Rudnicki, “Odra i jej ujścia,” Slavia Occidentalis 15 (1936), pp. 67–73, proving the Slavic
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 227
and rich town of Slavs and newcomers from other nations as belonging to the
distant past. It was to be completely devastated by one of the Danish rulers.
This legend is one of the most mysterious literary and historiographic motifs
recorded by medieval authors, which stirred the minds of wide social circles
and existed in folklore until the 20th c. The story inspired literature, painting,
music, political ideology, and even modern board games. The last two centu-
ries brought attempts at scientific criticism of the legend, which resulted in
rich primary literature and proposals of definitive solutions related to its gen-
esis and historical value.152 It is important, however, that Adam wrote about
Iumne as a centre that is known and contemporary to him. Did he possibly
sense the beginning of the legend in the fame of the centre located on the
Oder? This is an excessively cautious judgment.
The chronicler’s declaration that, facing the reality of growing popularity of
improbable stories, he wanted to say something which would be “worth pass-
ing over” (“digna relatu”), is more of a rhetorical game for the reader. The fact
that Adam contributed to the creation of this legend himself is confirmed not
only in the above mentioned mythization of geography, but also in the further
narration about the famous town:
“Indeed, it is the biggest of all cities in Europe and it is inhabited by Slavs
and other peoples, Greeks and Barbarians. For even the Saxon newcomers
were granted the same rights of inhabitance on the condition that they will
not publicly cultivate Christianity while they remain in the city. Since they all
still live in the sin of following pagan rituals but besides that, in terms of cus-
toms and hospitality, it is impossible to find any other nation that would match
genesis of the name Vineta and its older origin than in the case of Iumne. This view is not
based on sufficient basis in sources, and first of all it did not take into account the cultural
context of the epoch, in which it is not surprising that new names were created to meet
the needs of a legend, if only on association basis, whose mechanism is partly explained
in the above indicated paleographic findings.
152 The scholarly debate on the legend of Vineta until the mid-20th c. was reported by
Kiersnowski, Legenda Winety, p. 3–27. Ibidem, p. 63–111, where he presented the history
of this legend. Lately on this issue see: Monika Rusakiewicz, Wineta. Korzenie legendy
i jej recepcja w historiografii zachodniopomorskiej do XVI wieku (Wrocław: Chronicon,
2016). A concise study can be also found in Lech Leciejewicz, “Wineta,” in SSS, vol. 6,
p. 472. Moreover the issue of Wolin-Vineta and basic literature related to it is present-
ed by Władysław Filipowiak, Heinz Gundlach, Wolin-Vineta. Die tatsächliche Legende
vom Untergang und Aufstieg der Stadt (Rostock: Hinstorff, 1992); Witold Hensel,
“Wineta – miasto słowiańskie nad Bałtykiem, niegdyś ludne i opływające we wszelkie
bogactwa, czy wytwór baśni o średniowiecznej karze bożej?,” Slavia Antiqua 40 (1999),
pp. 273 f.; Stanisław Rosik, “Wineta – utopia szlachetnych pogan (znaczenie legendy w
Helmolda ‘Kronice Słowian’),” Slavia Antiqua 42 (2001), pp. 113–122.
228 Chapter 3
their generosity and kindness.”153 A significant factor in the creation of the leg-
end was certainly the consideration that Iumne was the largest European town,
and a necessary characteristic maintaining its world position was a tolerant
attitude of its inhabitants towards newcomers (the only ban was on public
Christian cult).154
Not for nothing did Adam of Bremen enjoy fame as the “Tacitus” of the
peoples of the North. Similar to his outstanding Roman predecessor, he ap-
preciated some barbarian customs, their hospitality, nobility, kindness, and
generosity. These stereotypical assessments match one of the main trends in
the characteristics of barbarians in the continuation of ancient culture in the
Middle Ages.155 However, there was an alternative to this trend expressed in
the emphasis on their savageness and cruelty, but the chronicler decided to
only stress that the inhabitants of Iumne performed pagan rites.
They are, let us repeat, “Sclavi cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris.” The
Slavs, which is not surprising, are the main element in the city, however it is
interesting why all “the other peoples” are locked in the name “Greeks and
Barbarians.” Even the next sentence about the permission granted to the
Saxons to live there,156 literally clashes with this formula, as they could neither
153 Adam II, 22: “Est sane maxima omnium, quas Europa claudit, civitatum, quam incolunt
Sclavi cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris; nam et advenae Saxones parem cohabi-
tandi legem acceperunt, si tamen christianitatis titulum ibi morantes non publicaverint.
Omnes enim adhuc paganicis ritibus oberrant, ceterum moribus et hospitalitate nulla
gens honestior aut benignior poterit inveniri.”
154 Filipowiak, Słowiańskie wierzenia, p. 19.
155 For extensive information about this type of topical assessment of barbarians see
Modzelewski, Barbarzyńska Europa, pp. 27 ff. The author mentions one-sidedness of
this view of the >>strangers<<, not taking into consideration the conditioning of at-
titudes viewed in this way in the form of customary laws (so called leges barbarorum)
aimed at guaranteeing security for the whole community. In the case of presentations
of the Slavdom, among these stereotypical opinions, hospitality is particularly em-
phasized, which is a premise that this topos had the best founded basis in the reality
of social life (see: Lech Leciejewicz, “Mensa illorum nunquam disarmatur. Kilka uwag
o słowiańskiej gościnności,” in Świat średniowiecza. Studia ofiarowane Profesorowi
Henrykowi Samsonowiczowi, ed. Agnieszka Bartoszewicz et al. (Warszawa: Wydawnictwa
Uniwersytetu Warszawskiego, 2010), pp. 628–633). The occurrence of this kind of stereo-
typical assessment in medieval literature was conditioned also by meeting particular
goals, which were also intentionally supported by the creativity of authors, and this fact is
worth emphasizing especially in the analysis of Adam’s information about Iumne.
156 Lech Leciejewicz, “Sasi w słowiańskich miastach nadbałtyckich w X–XI w.,” in
Kultura średniowieczna i staropolska. Studia ofiarowane Aleksandrowi Gieysztorowi
w pięćdziesięciolecie pracy naukowej, ed. Danuta Gawin et al. (Warszawa: PWN, 1991),
pp. 99–105.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 229
be placed with the first, nor the second category.157 It is certainly possible to
confine oneself to the statement that the source can be regarded as internally
contradictory in this place, and then begin attempts to find representatives
of pagan peoples (e.g. Prussians, partly Scandinavians) in “barbarians” and
Byzantine (Greek) rite followers in “Greeks” who came from Rus’.158 Another
premise to support this interpretation is the fact that Helmold of Bosau, when
commenting on the information about Rus’ taken from Adam of Bremen’s
chronicle, stated that its inhabitants in the Church order seem more likely to
follow the Greeks rather than the Latins.159
In the case of the passage about Iumne the cluster Greci – Latini was not used.
However, the whole expression “cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris” corre-
sponds with a phrase from the Epistle of Saint Paul to the Romans: “in ceteris
gentibus / Graecis ac barbaris,”160 which on the pages of the New Testament
on the basis pars pro toto encompasses all humankind. Therefore, even if some
associations with non-Christian people contemporary to the chronicler (as
barbari) or followers of Eastern Christianity evoked this phrase, it is still a New
157 Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 102, proposed to consider the Saxons a separate cat-
egory, the so called “newcomers” (advenae), in line with the expression “advenae Saxones”
used by the chronicler, and thereby excluded from the entirety of peoples representing
Slavs and many nations referred to as “Greeks and Barbarians”. This inspiring observation
related to the way the chronicler viewed the composition of the Iumne population and
more precisely its migrant element. However, an attempt to claim that the “newcomers”
were not included in “other peoples” (“alia gentes”) separated from the Slavs, i.e. “Greeks
and Barbarians” raises doubts. The chronicler mentioned “advenae Saxones” to develop
the information that the city is inhabited by “Sclavi cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris”.
This is enforced especially by the expression “nam et”, “for/also because”, used in a sen-
tence about the Saxons which is connected with the sentence about the “Greeks and
Barbarians”. Besides even the information that the Saxons had the right to live in Iumne
allows the expression “quam incolunt Sclavi cum aliis gentibus, Grecis et Barbaris” to be
referred to them.
158 This idea can be supported by a testimony available thanks to archaeology offering evi-
dence of contacts between Wolin and Veliky Novgorod or Old Ladoga. The same issue
is discussed in e.g. Kazimierz Ślaski, “Stosunki krajów skandynawskich z południowo-
wschodnim wybrzeżem Bałtyku od VI do XII wieku,” Przegląd Zachodni 8 (1952) 2,
pp. 39, 44; Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 115 ff.; Lech Leciejewicz, “O kontaktach Słowian
nadbałtyckich z północną Rusią we wczesnym średniowieczu,” in Viae historicae. Księga ju-
bileuszowa dedykowana Profesorowi Lechowi A. Tyszkiewiczowi w siedemdziesiątą rocznicę
urodzin, ed. Mateusz Goliński, Stanisław Rosik, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis.
Historia) 152 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2001), pp. 208–214.
159 Helmold I, 1: “Grecos magis quam Latinos imitari videntur”.
160 Cf. Rom 1:14.
230 Chapter 3
161 Nowak, Untersuchungen, p. 69; Stanisław Rosik, “Barbari et Greci w Iumne. >>Europa
barbarzyńska<< jako koncepcja w studiach nad formowaniem się kulturowego oblicza
Kontynentu (wokół przekazu Adama z Bremy),” in Europa barbarica, Europa christiana.
Studia Medievalia Carolo Modzelewski dedicata, ed. Roman Michałowski et al. (Warszawa:
DiG, 2008), pp. 191–197 (development the ideas presented in 2000); cf. Rosik, Greeks and
Romans, pp. 195–201. See also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 284.
162 St. Paul is presented in this place as a debtor, whose duty is proclaiming the Holy Gospel
to “Greeks and barbarians” (cf. Rom 1:14). In this way the horizon of apostolic activity in
the dimension of all peoples was determined.
163 The motif of Scythians was used by St. Paul in the Epistle to Colossians (Col 3:11), to define
their affiliation with the Christian community based on overcoming ethnically, culturally
and socially conditioned antinomies: there is no distinction between Greek and Jew, bar-
barian and Scythian or slave and free. On the matter of Scythians in Adam’s chronicle see
e.g. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 294 ff.
164 Adam II, 22: “Ibi est Olla Vulcani, quod incolae Grecum ignem vocant, de quo etiam
meminit Solinus” (“Vulcan’s Pot is situated there, which the inhabitants call Greek fire
that Solinus mentioned”). Emphasis on the fact that Greek fire is mentioned by Solinus
proves the erudition of magister scholarum from Bremen. According to quite popu-
lar speculation, this substance was used as fuel for a primitive lighthouse. See: Hensel,
Słowiańszczyzna, p. 701; cf. Ryszard Kiersnowski, “Kamień i Wolin,” Przegląd Zachodni 7
(1957) 9/10, pp. 220 f.; Koczy, Sklawanja, p. 229.
165 This was proposed by e.g. Wirski, “Bóstwo,” p. 313, however, he did not take into consid-
eration that it was a kind of fuel (Greek fire) and not a cult object. Similarly, without any
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 231
grounds – since the literary convention was not taken into account – this author tried to
find in the later mentioned Neptune (see below) a Slavic sea god.
166 Adam II, 22: “Ibi cernitur Neptunus triplicis naturae: tribus enim fretis alluitur illa in-
sula, quorum aiunt unum esse viridissimae speciei, alterum subalbidae, tertium motu
furibundo perpetuis saevit tempestatibus.”
167 In the analysis of this place, it seems very instructive to refer a passage of Translatio S.
Alexandrii devoted to the Saxons and their religion, which was used by Adam in his work,
Adam I, 7. It starts with a cluster of information taken over from Tacitus and the New
Testament: “coluerunt enim eos, qui natura non erant dii, inter quos precipue Mercurium
venerabantur” – “As they worship those who by nature are not gods, and above all they
praise Mercury” (cf. Gal 4:8: “iis, qui natura non sunt dii, serviebatis”). Alluding to the
Epistle to the Galatians, in the perception of the erudite from Bremen, certainly evoked
additional information from the next line (cf. Gal 4:9) in which pagan gods when faced
with the divinity of the Creator, similarly to the opinion of stoics, are reduced to power-
less and miserable elements: infirma et egena elementa.
168 In a similar way Adam (I, 1) described Saxony as having a triangular shape.
169 Langebek (see below p. 226, footnote 151) located Vineta (Iumne) on the north-west cape
of Usedom Island.
170 Adam II, 22: “Urbs illa mercibus omnium septentrionalium nationum locupules nihil non
habet iocundi aut rari.”
232 Chapter 3
171 See e.g. Bollnow, Studien zur Geschichte, pp. 22 f.; Ewa Rzetelska-Feleszko, “Wolin (1),” in
SSS, vol. 6, p. 561; Lech Leciejewicz, “Wolin (2),” in SSS, vol. 6, pp. 562 f.; Rosik, Conversio,
pp. 238 f.; Jakub Morawiec, Wolin w średniowiecznej tradycji skandynawskiej (Kraków:
Avalon, 2010), pp. 446 f. It is worth mentioning that the concept assuming Iumne identi-
fied with Vineta is Wolin was already put forward by Johann Friedrich Zöllner, Reise durch
Pommern nach der Insel Rügen und einem Theile des Herzogthums Mecklenburg, im Jahre
1795 (Berlin: Maurer, 1797), p. 507; the later rich discussion until the mid-20th c. was report-
ed by Kiersnowski, Legenda, pp. 10 ff., he also supported the identification of Vineta with
Wolin (ibidem, pp. 28 ff., especially pp. 36 ff.). The same view was expressed by Labuda,
Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 129 f. and 184 ff.; Lech Leciejewicz, “Wineta,” in SSS, vol. 6, p. 472. The
wealth of Wolin in the Early Middle Ages, confirmed in archaeological excavations, cor-
responds with Adam’s information about Iumne. On the basis of these excavations, it is
emphasized that strangers (merchants, warriors and craftsmen) coming to this place en-
joyed significant freedom of action in Wolin. See Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 143; Władysław
Filipowiak, “Wollin – ein frühmittelalterliches Zentrum an der Ostsee,” in Europasmitte
um 1000. Beiträge zur Geschichte, Kunst und Archäologie. Handbuch zur Ausstellung, vol. 1,
ed. Alfred Wieczorek, Hans-Martin Hinz (Stuttgart: Theiss, 2000), pp. 152–155; Władysław
Duczko, “Obecność skandynawska na Pomorzu i słowiańska w Skandynawii we wczesnym
średniowieczu,” in Salsa Cholbergiensis. Kołobrzeg w średniowieczu, ed. Lech Leciejewicz,
Marian Rębkowski (Kołobrzeg: Le petit Café, 2001), pp. 24–39, and recently in an extensive
monographic study Błażej M. Stanisławski, Jómswikingowie z Wolina-Jómsborga – studium
archeologiczne przenikania kultury skandynawskiej na ziemie polskie (Wrocław: IAE PAN,
2013). See also below, p. 267.
172 The earliest testimony of this name comes from 12th c. sources, in Ekkehard of Aura’s
(deceased 1126) chronicle, see Ekkechardi Uraugiensis chronica, ed. Georg Waitz, MGH SS
6 (1844), under the year 1125, pp. 263 f., and the hagiography of St. Otto of Bamberg (see
e.g. Vita Prieflingensis II, 5).
173 Adam II, 18. Earlier most certainly the same people were testified by Widukind of Corvey
(III, 69) in the record of Vuloini.
174 With reference to the said Old Nordic sagas of Jomsvikings based in Jomsborg, Iumne was
considered as sounding similar to Iom and thought to be the name of Wolin used only by
Scandinavians. However, in linguistic research the Nordic origin of the name Iumne and
related names like Iom were excluded. This is why the hypothesis of their Baltic prove-
nience and its dissemination also among the Scandinavians enjoyed some recognition,
see Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 184–190. It is worth mentioning that most certainly
Iumne is a deformed form of the original Iumme – ibidem, pp. 119, 187 f. For information on
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 233
origin of the toponym Iumne,175 and the dissemination of the name “Wolin”
should be related to the social and political changes in the way this centre
functioned in the 11th–12th c., which would also be reflected in its names.176
The information about Iumne provided by Adam of Bremen is certain-
ly significant in research on the religion of the Slavs.177 A ban on practicing
Christianity publicly in the town indicates a monopolization of the religious
sphere of the social life by the pagan cult. It is confined to the formula: pagani-
ci ritus. Although laconic, it bears theological assessment not only because of a
pejorative overtone in the adjective paganicus, but also due to a wider context
of this work. It is especially worth recalling here the presentation of the Saxon
religion at the beginning of the work.
The chronicler defined it as superstition (superstitio), which in his times was
still practiced by the Slavs performing a “pagan rite” (ritus paganicus).178 He
certainly did not evaluate “pagan rites” in Iumne in any other way using the
same words to describe them, whereas the lack of additional pejorative assess-
ment of these rites, which would be quite natural in this context,179 is exactly
what allows the immediate praise of the local customs to be fully expressed in
the earlier discussion on the origin of this toponym, see Ewa Rzetelska-Feleszko, “Wolin,”
in SSS, vol. 6, p. 561.
175 Recently an extensive study on this matter see: Alexandra Petrulevich, “On the etymology
of at Jómi, Jumne and Jómsborg,” Namn och Bydg 97 (2009), pp. 65–97.
176 In this case the devastation of Iumne/Wolin during the invasion of the Danish king
Magnus in 1043 (see Morawiec, Wolin, pp. 407–493) is of key significance and it most cer-
tainly determined the end of the greatest splendour of this town confirmed by Thietmar,
and possibly half a century earlier by Ibrahim ibn Yaqub, who wrote about a powerful port
of the Weltaba people (Veleti or Wolinians), see: Relacja Ibrahima ibn Jakuba z podróży
do krajów słowiańskich w przekazie al-Bekeriego, ed. and trans. Tadeusz Kowalski, MPH
n.s. 1 (1946), p. 50. Thietmar’s information (VI, 33) refers to the legation which arrived to
Henry II about 1007 from a “great city” Livilni: “… regi pascha Ratisbone celebranti de
Liuticis et ab hiis, qui a civitate magna Livilni dicta missi fuerat.” See e.g. Labuda,
Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 130 f., L. Leciejewicz, “Wolin,” in SSS, vol. 6, pp. 561–564, p. 562; idem,
“Wolinianie,” in SSS, vol. 6, p. 564.
177 The native cult of inhabitants of Volin was incomparably more extensively present-
ed in the hagiography of St. Otto of Bamberg. Additionally, some light is cast on this
problem by results of excavations and their interpretations, see Władysław Filipowiak,
Janusz Wojtasik, “Światowit z Wolina,” Z otchłani wieków 41 (1975) 2, pp. 82–89; Witold
Hensel, “Wczesnośredniowieczna figurka czterotwarzowego bóstwa z Wolina,” Slovenska
Archeologia 26 (1978), pp. 13–15; Władysław Filipowiak, “Wolińska kącina,” Z otchłani
wieków 45 (1979), p. 115; Słupecki, “Słowiańskie posągi,” p. 40 f. See also below, pp. 339 ff.
178 Adam I, 7: “quam adhuc Sclavi (…) ritu paganico servare videntur.”
179 The same Adam II, 48, where he writes about Bishop Unvanus who requested eradication
of “omnes ritus paganicus, quorum adhuc superstitio viguit”. For more information see
below, footnote 206 in this chapter.
234 Chapter 3
the subsequent passage of the chronicle. In accordance with this praise, Iumne
returns in Adam’s narrative as a safe haven for the king Harald Bluetooth, driv-
en into exile by his son,180 and its hospitality for him is surprising.181
With reference to this town, one can observe a model for the presentation
of barbarians that is far from a hostile and confrontational ideology on the
pages of Adam’s chronicle.182 The only vice mentioned was an attachment to
the pagan religion, but at the same time a number of admirable, natural vir-
tues were emphasized.183 These positive traits help the reader to overcome the
mental and cultural barriers of his environment that prevent the promotion
and implementation of plans to include them in the Christian sphere.184 Care
“for the salvation of peoples” (de salute gentium) was one of the leading motifs
in the work of Adam of Bremen.185 He created the historiographic tradition of
the archdiocese whose basic activity was the conversion of pagans.
180 About 986. Recently this issue was discussed in the context of the Jomsvikings by
Morawiec, Wolin, pp. 138 f. See also Leciejewicz, “Normanowie nad Odrą i Wisłą,”
Kwartalnik Historyczny 100 (1993), 4, pp. 55 f.; Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 127 f., 191f.
181 Adam (II, 28): “A quibus [i.e. Iumne inhabitants – S.R.] contra spem, quia pagani erant, hu-
mane receptus” (“By whom he was kindly embraced, against hope, as they were pagans”).
This expression indicates that pagans were not expected to treat exiles kindly, humanely –
humane (cf. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 279; Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung,
p. 171), and it was thought to be typical of them not to show any mercy – see e.g. Adam II,
34: “Is quoniam paganus erat, nulla super exulem misericordia motus est.” – “As he [i.e.
Thrucco Tryggve – it is a mistake as he was dead at that time – S.R.] was a pagan and did
not show any mercy towards the exile” [i.e. Sven – S.R.]. This context leads to the con-
clusion that the claim that Iumne received the exiled king “against hope” (contra spem)
in the author’s concept is to indicate that in comparison with pagans in general, who
treated strangers or Christians in an inhumane way, the inhabitants of this city would be
a glorious exception. Adam’s striving at emphasizing this fact left political reality, such
as a possible alliance between Harald and the Wolinians, outside the centre of attention.
To some extent polemizing with the quoted Adam’s opinion, Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2,
pp. 124 and 130, emphasized friendly relations between Harald and Wolinians and used
this fact to explain the kind reception of the exile. Besides, it is worth observing that in
accordance with Adam’s information about the customs of Iumne inhabitants discussed
above, travellers from various parts of the world, and hence also Scandinavians, were
in 10th–11th c. regularly hosted in Wolin (see e.g. Leciejewicz, Normanowie nad Odrą,
pp. 54 f.; idem, “Obcy kupcy na Słowiańszczyźnie Zachodniej w okresie wielkiego
przełomu (IX–XI w.),” in Cultus et cognitio. Studia z dziejów średniowiecznej kultury, ed.
Stefan K. Kuczyński et al. (Warszawa: PWN, 1976), p. 337; Stanisławski, Jómswikingowie,
pp. 292–298 et passim).
182 Also in Descriptio insularum aquilonis there is Iumne without any references to paganism,
see Adam IV, 20.
183 Similarly Adam created the image of Old Prussians, see Adam IV, 18.
184 This comment most certainly does not refer to the most defiant Rans.
185 The care about salus gentium was the basic task of the Archbishopric of Hamburg, which
is confirmed in papal documents, see Adam II, 3.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 235
refers to the Obodrites and Wagrians and in this respect almost certainly dur-
ing the 990s.190
In the information about these events, first Adam and, after nearly a cen-
tury, Helmold, show symptomatic agreement with Thietmar’s earlier account
in the establishment of the reasons for the events which took place in 983:
the Saxons were to blame as they oppressed people subjugated to them.191 The
rebels led by Mstivoy and Mstidrog looted Nordalbingien and then some Slavic
lands. The description is focused mainly on the consequential ravaging of the
Church, and the person who was the most to blame for the consequences of
the rebellion in Polabia was Saxon duke Bernard I. It was him who pushed the
Slavs to start the rebellion,192 and to consequently reject Christianity.193
190 The person who is of key significance in the establishment of indicative dating of the
Obodrite rebellion is duke Mstivoy, and also information from Annales Hildesheimenses
under the year 992 about the destruction of the bishop’s capital in Starigard/Oldenburg,
which additionally corresponds with Adam’s information about the martyrdom of the
clergy in this town during the Slavic rebellion discussed here (see below). See especially
Labuda, Powstania Słowian, pp. 177 ff., in particular 181; idem, Fragmenty, vol. 1, pp. 229
ff., 236 f., 240 ff., 301 f.; vol. 2, pp. 180 ff. The author discredited the view of R. Usinger,
that Adam’s account of the Slavic rebellion was a compilation of two traditions about
Obodrite rebellions in 983 and 1018. In the earlier discussion other combinations of events
were also taken into account (two other dates 1002, 1013 were also considered). See also
Leciejewicz, “Główne problemy,” p. 176; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 139 f.
191 A dam II, 42: “Tunc vero et Sclavi a christianis iudicibus plus iusto compressi excusso tan-
dem iugo servitutis libertatem suam armis defendere coacti sunt” (“Then the Slavs that
were unjustly oppressed by Christian judges shook off the yoke of slavery and were in-
cited to fight for their freedom with arms”); cf. Helmold I, 16. See above, pp. 288 ff.
192 “Bernardus enim dux tam avitae humilitatis quam paternae religionis oblitus primo qui-
dem per avariciam gentem Winulorum crudeliter opprimens ad necessitatem paganismi
coegit” (“Oblivious to his grandfather’s humbleness and his father’s fear of God, moti-
vated mainly by greed, duke Bernard oppressed the Winuli [the Slavs] tribe severely and
thus forced them to turn back to paganism.”), see Adam II, 48; Helmold I, 16. Cf. Scior, Das
Eigene und das Fremde, p. 84. Adam (II, 48) reminds also of Bernard’s other trespasses: in
connection with rebellion against the emperor and the civil war in Saxony, he presents
Bernard as a rebel against Christ and oppressor of churches there; cf. Helmold I, 16.
193 According to an annotation to the original version of Adam’s chronicle (see Adam II, 40,
schol. 28), the pagan reaction was to take place only after Mstivoy was exiled by his own
subjects, which corresponds with Thietmar’s information about the circumstances of the
death of this ruler indicating that he was a Christian then (see above, p. 87). Mstidrog is
known only from Adam of Bremen’s account, possibly he was the son of the Wagrian duke
Żelibor, confirmed by Widukind of Corvey, see Christian Lübke, “Mstidrog,” in Lexikon des
Mittelalters, vol. 6, Lexikon des Mittelalters, vol. 6 (München: Artemis, 1993), col. 882.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 237
Scholion 28 gives the name of one more culprit in this conflict – the mar-
grave Theodoric.194 He showed special contempt towards the Slavic dukes. This
disdain is exemplified by a story of his offensive treatment of the son of one
of them, who remains anonymous in the text, when he was courting a relative
of the Saxon duke, Bernard I. Initially the duke accepted their relationship in
return for military support provided by the Slavs during his expedition to Italy,
but later failed to keep his word. He followed Theodoric’s advice not to give his
relative to a “dog.”195 This epithet has topical nature, and the premise of its use
plainly illustrates the motif of the Saxon guilt for inciting the rebellion; this
time it emphasizes their pride, disloyalty and contempt towards the Slavs.196
Let us return to the mainstream of the narration of the chronicle. Pointing
to the account of Sven Estridsen, Adam outlined a bloody image of pagan reac-
tion: numerous Christians were abducted from Hamburg and later died “be-
cause of hatred towards Christianity” (“propter odium christianitatis”). Sixty
clergymen including a relative of the Danish ruler, Oddar,197 were first saved
in Starigard, only to be killed later. They were murdered by cutting the sign of
the cross on their heads to uncover their brains.198 It is hard to decide wheth-
er the said torture was a kind of religious ritual, or maybe an ad hoc idea to
ridicule the sacred sign of Christianity. Other martyrs were dragged in Slavic
194 Adam II, 43, schol. 31: “Theodericus erat marchio Sclavorum, cuius ignavia eos fieri de-
sertores.” (“The margrave of Slavs, because of whose idleness they became apostates, was
Theoderic.”)
195 Adam, schol. 30: “Sermo est ducem Sclavanicum petisse filio suo neptem ducis Bernardi
eumque promisisse. Tunc princeps Winulorum misit filium suum cum duce in Ytaliam
cum mille equitibus, qui fere omnes ibi sunt interfecti. Cumque filius ducis Sclavanici pol-
licitam mulierem expecteret, Theodericus marchio intercepit consilium, consanguineam
ducis proclamans non dandam esse cani.” (“A rumor has it that a [certain] Slavic duke
asked a niece of duke Bernard to be given as wife for his son and she was promised to him.
Then the duke of the Winuli [i.e. Slavs – S.R.] sent his son with the duke [Bernard] to Italy
with nearly a thousand horsemen of whom almost all were killed. And when the son of
the Slavic duke expected to be given the promised woman, margrave Theoderic broke the
promise claiming that a duke’s relative should not be given to a dog.”).
196 On the topos of “dogs” (canes) in reference to the Slavs see below, pp. 289 ff.
197 Adam II, 43. This Oddar was called prepositus loci. According to Koczy, “Sklawanja,” p. 223,
on this basis he was considered the ruler, head of the stronghold. However, Oddar’s affilia-
tion with the group of sixty martyr-priests is confirmed by the word “quorum” starting the
next sentence. Hence, in accordance with the Polish translation of this passage as a bor-
rowing from Adam’s work to Helmold’s chronicle (I, 16), support should be rendered to
understanding the term prepositus in this place as the ‘parish priest’ (cf. Helmolda Kronika
Słowian, trans. Józef Matuszewski, ed. Jerzy Strzelczyk (Warszawa: PWN, 1974), p. 136) or
the superordinate of the church in Starigard.
198 Adam II, 43: “Ille cum ceteris tali martyrio consummatus est, ut cute capitis in modum
crucis incisa ferro cerebrum singulis aperiretur.”
238 Chapter 3
towns with their hands tied, until they died of torture.199 This image of cruelty
is a realization of a stereotypical way of presenting pagans in sources from
that epoch.
A theological explication of these events comes in the next chapter: “Thus
all the Slavs that inhabited the lands between Elbe and Oder had practiced
Christianity for over 70 years, during all of the time of Ottos, in this way cut
themselves off from Christ’s body and from the Church, with which they were
previously connected.”200 It is clear from this passage that the chronicler treat-
ed the Christianization of the Polabian Slavs as a completed work, hence their
being a part of the Church did not raise any doubts. “Over seventy years” in
Adam’s concept uses the symbolism of numbers to emphasize the long-lasting
nature of the relation with Christianity. This time was the whole epoch in the
history of the empire – the Ottonian times.
As indicated above however, these chronological expressions do not match
the details of the presented events. In the chronicle, they are well composed as
an element of the theological interpretation of history. In showing the end of a
certain fortunate epoch, they clearly determine the turning point in the history
of Christianization of the Polabian tribes: “And truly are God’s judgements hid-
den from people, who shows mercy to those he wishes to, and others he makes
obdurate. While we admire his omnipotence, we can observe that those who
were the first to choose Christianity already turned back to paganism, while in
their place converted to Christ those who seemed to be the last.”201 The return
of the Slavs to paganism is read here as their fall and debasement by the power
of God’s sentence. They were the people included in the Church earlier than
the Swedish or Norwegians, who were exalted in this situation.
However, the final message of this story about the rebellion of the Polabian
tribes refers to “us,” i.e. in the chronicler’s perspective, the Christians or, more
199 Ibidem: “Deinde ligatis post terga manibus confessores Dei per singulas civitates
Sclavorum tracti sunt (aut verbere aut alio modo vexati), usque dum deficerent. Ita illi
‘spectaculum facti et angelis et hominibus’ in stadio medii cursus exhalarunt victorem
spiritum.” (“Next, with their hands tied behind their backs, the confessors of God were
dragged through various Slavic cities (and with whips or in other ways tortured) until they
died. In this way >>they were turned into a pageant for people and for angels<< and in the
middle of their lives they gave away their victorious spirits.”)
200 Adam II, 44: “Omnes igitur Sclavi, qui inter Albiam et Oddaram habitant, per annos LXX
et amplius christianitatem coluerunt, omni tempore Ottonum, talique modo se abscide-
runt ab corpore Christi et ecclesiae, cui antea coniuncti fuerant”.
201 Adam II, 44: “O vere occulta super homines Dei iudicia, qui miseretur, cui vult, et quem
vult indurat. Cuius omnipotentiam mirantes videmus eos ad paganismum esse relapsos,
qui primi crediderunt, illis autem conversis ad Christum, qui videbatur novissimi”; cf.
Rom 9:18. Cf. Cf. Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, pp. 113.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 239
precisely, the Saxons.202 It was for the purpose of punishing their perversity,
as an expression of the almightiness and justice of heavens, that the episode
of the biblical history of Israel was to happen one more time. It was the epi-
sode in which God cleared their way to the Promised Land by destroying seven
Canaanite nations, but leaving one – the Philistines. The last ones are com-
pared by the chronicler to the Slavs, turning them into a tool of punishment for
the perfidy (perfidia) of Christian Saxons.203
The activity of Libentius’s successor Unvanus (1013–1030) brought reforms
and development to the Church network. One of his biggest successes was
consolidating the kingdoms of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden under the obe-
dience the Metropolis of the North. Moreover, Unvanus took special care of the
mission in Polabia.204 He managed to make the rebellious duke Bernard pay
homage to the emperor, and next helped him to impose tributary dependence
on the Slavs. In Hamburg, rebuilt after the devastations of the end of the 10th
c., a congregation of canons, “qui populum converterent ab errore ydolatriae,”
was established by the metropolitan.205 Their area of activity was certainly
not only the superfluously Christianized Saxons, but first of all the Slavs.206
202 For Adam’s identity reflected on the pages of his chronicle see e.g. Scior, Das Eigene und
das Fremde, pp. 38 ff., and above, pp. 198 f.
203 Ibidem: God “>>iudex iustus, fortis et patiens<<, qui olim deletis coram Israel septem
gentibus Chanaan solos reservavit Allophilos, a quibus transgressi puniretur, ille, inquam,
modicam gentilium portionem nunc indurare voluit, per quos nostra confunderetur per-
fidia.” (God “>>a just, mighty and patient judge<<, who once in the face of Israel shattered
seven tribes of Canaan and spared only the Philistines, by whom the abominable were
punished; I say to you, he [God – S.R.] allowed a small group of pagans to remain obdurate
[in paganism] and our perfidy to be deprecated by them.”). Cf. Ps 7:62; Act 13:19; Judg 3:1.
204 E.g. Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Unwan,” in SSS, vol. 6, p. 266.
205 A dam II, 49.
206 A dam II, 48, brings a reference to eradication of “pagan rites” from the lives of people liv-
ing in marshlands near Bremen by Unvanus. “Ille omnes ritus paganicus, quorum adhuc
superstitio viguit in hac regione, precepit funditus amoveri, ita ut ex lucis, quos nostri
paludicolae stulta frequentabant reverentia, faceret ecclesias per diocesim renovari.” (“All
pagan rites which had been worshipped in that country until that time he ordered to
eradicate; and the groves that our inhabitants of swamps keep visiting with a silly ven-
eration he transformed into churches during restoration of bishopric.”). This laconic in-
formation about relics of the pagan religion of the Saxons contains a number of terms
bringing its theological interpretation. Pagan rites (ritus paganici) were described as su-
perstitions (superstitio), and they were cherished as a result of a lack of mission in this
hardly accessible area because after all they were encompassed in diocese borders. In the
chronicler’s writing, the cult of groves gained the name of stulta reverentia. Substitution
of groves by churches falls within canons of the missionary practice in the Early Middle
Ages, where people’s respect for local pre-Christian cult places was used in smooth tran-
sition to a new faith and its practices (attending churches). By analogy this material can
refer to details of the Slavic cult of groves known thanks to Thietmar and Helmold, see
above, pp. 144 ff. and below, pp. 330 ff.
240 Chapter 3
Idolatry – an error that missionaries had to struggle with – in this context was
a synonym (pars pro toto) of a pagan religion.
The Christianization of the Slavs, which was entrusted by Unvanus to the
bishop of Starigard, Benno (about 1013–1023),207 was interrupted by the pagan
rebellion in 1018.208 Adam remains silent about these dramatic events, but it
cannot be excluded that he transferred its consequences to earlier years, pro-
claiming the return of paganism among the Slavs “between the Elbe and Oder”
as early as the end of Libentius’s life.209 Thereby Unvanus’s pontificate is pre-
sented in Adam’s work as a time of peace and restoration of the Hamburg-
Bremen metropolis, which at the same time was involved in completion of the
mission among the pagan people. In this context, he emphasizes Unvanus’s
cooperation with the Saxon duke Bernard II, and also the organization in
Hamburg of a convention (hypothetically dated to 1025),210 which was attend-
ed by the Danish king, Cnut the Great, and the “satraps” of the Slavs, Uto and
Sederic, all invited by the archbishop.211 Uto’s son was Gottschalk, whose rule
in the Obodrite determines the next growth and then finally the next break in
the wave of Christianization in Northern Polabia.212
207 Adam II, 47: Unvanus “ordinavitque in Sclavoniam (…) Bennonem, virum prudentem, qui
de fratribus Hammaburgensis ecclesiae electus in populo Sclavorum multum praedican-
do fructum attulit” (“To the Slavdom Unvanus sent Benno, a man of prudence, who was
chosen from among the cannon brothers of the Church in Hamburg and whose preaching
among Slavs was bearing much fruit”). Hence the chronicler highly estimated Benno’s
intellect and his missionary success.
208 It is discussed by Thietmar, who mentions Benno using another version of his name –
Bernard, see above, p. 186.
209 It should be taken into account that possibly in Adam’s narrative in the information about
the fall of Christianity between the Elbe and Oder, the consequences of Slavic rebellions
from the two last decades of the 10th c. and the events from 1018 were joined (cf. above,
p. 235, footnote 189). The argument that Adam connected events with particular pon-
tificates, hence he would not transfer events from Unvanus’s times to Libentius’s (e.g.
Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 1, pp. 234 f.), is not convincing, especially when one takes into
account that the moment of Christianity’s fall between the Elbe and Oder indicated by
the chronicler is at a distance of a maximum of 8 years from 1018, and in relation to 992
(the fall of the bishopric in Starigard) not less than 18 years.
210 See e.g. footnote in: Adam, p. 119; Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, s. 183.
211 Adam II, 58.
212 Uto also used the name Pribigniev, see e.g. Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne, pp. 127 f., 132 f.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 241
out that his father had been murdered by a Saxon, he was led by wrath and
fury to abandon “the faith and scriptures,” and took up arms and joined the
“enemies of God.” The Slavs helped him to avenge his father’s murder by killing
“thousands of Saxons.”213 Thus Gottschalk’s revenge gained the dimension of a
religious fight, and the reference to abandoning not only faith, but also “scrip-
tures” (cum fide litteris), makes one aware that – similarly to Thietmar – Adam
also saw the living literati culture as a legible sign of Christianity.214
Gottschalk was eventually captured by the Saxon duke Bernard II who,
counting on benefits resulting from acquiring such an ally, concluded an agree-
ment with him and gave him freedom. This was most probably the time of his
second conversion to Christianity.215 After a few years of service for Cnut the
Great, which also involved a stay in England, he received the Obodrite throne
in about 1043,216 which after a few years resulted in the revival of the church
network in Northern Polabia.217
Gottschalk was praised as a supporter of the Hamburg metropolis, which he
“worshipped like a mother” (“ut matrem colebat”), and propagator of the faith.
Having at his disposal unprecedented power among the Slavs, he decided to
force all pagans to accept Christianity, though he managed to convert only a
213 Adam II, 66: “ira et furore commotus reiectis cum fide litteris arma corripuit amneque
transmisso inimicis Dei se coniunxit Winulis. Ouorum auxilio christianos impugnans
milia Saxonum prostrasse dicitur in patris vindictam.” (“Deeply moved by anger and rage,
he rejected the faith and scriptures, took up arm and after crossing the river he joined the
enemies of God – the Winuli [Slavs – S.R.]. With their help he fought against Christians
and killed thousands of Saxons to revenge his father”).
214 See above pp. 66 ff., where there is more information on that matter. This way of thinking
most probably also characterised Helmold – see below p. 294.
215 Helmold dramatized this conversion by an additional episode, see below, p. 294.
216 A disputable date – see Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, p. 156; Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne,
pp. 136 f.
217 “Across Elbe and also in Slavdom” – the canon of Bremen wrote about these times – “our
matters were going smoothly”; cf. Adam III, 19: “Trans Albiam vero et in Sclavania res nos-
trae adhuc magna gerebatur prosperitate.” See also Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 51.
And after mentioning the duke’s marriage and his power among the Slavs (victories and
tributes) he adds: “at that time Hamburg enjoyed peace and the land of Slavs [Sclavania]
was full of churches and priests.” (“Qua temporis occasione nostra Hammaburg pacem
habuit, et Sclavania sacerdotibus ecclesiisque plena fuit”). See Labuda, Fragmenty, p. 157.
Ibidem, pp. 158 f., more information about Gottschalk’s activity until his death at the be-
ginning of the Slavic rebellion in 1066; comp. also ibidem, vol. 3, p. 163, 186, 205, 225 ff. See
also Władysław Kowalenko, “Gotszalk,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 143; Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne,
pp. 139–157.
242 Chapter 3
third of those who, in his grandfather’s time,218 “fell into paganism.”219 From
the perspective of writing the history of the metropolis of the North, it is es-
sential to emphasize that this success was to refer to peoples living in the area
bordered by the Peene River, hence encompassed by the said archbishopric.220
Adam emphasizes the duke’s personal participation in evangelization.
Monasteries were established in Slavic cities,221 and bishoprics were re-
established, as a crowning moment for the restitution of local Christianity.222
However, extension of the missionary action in Adam’s opinion was hampered
by the attitude of Saxons, who were more interested in collecting tributes than
the propagation of Christianity.223 The chronicler accuses them of greediness
and cruelty, which pushed the Slavs to rebellion and the rejection of salvation.224
The pagans’ success is treated by him as a fitting punishment for these iniqui-
ties. At the same time, he emphasizes that success in the conversion of the
Slavs would bring them salvation and also peace for the Saxons.225
226 Adam III, 49, emphasizes that Gottschalk should be remembered for centuries as the
originator of the conversion of a large part of Slavdom.
227 Ibidem. For the Obodrite uprising against Gottschalk, see e.g. Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2,
p. 160; Padberg, Die Christianisierung, pp. 163 f.; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 156 f.
228 See above, p. 239.
229 Adam III, 49: “Sed quia nondum >>impletae sunt iniquitates Amorraeorum<<, neque
adhuc >>venit tempus miserendi<< eorum, necesse erat ut veniret scandala, ut probati
fierent manifesti.” (“Since >>the misdoings of the Amorites had not been fulfilled yet<<,
>>the time of mercy upon them did not come<< either; it became necessary for offences
to be shown, in order to those experienced [in faith] to manifest themselves”).
230 Ibidem: “Passus est autem noster Machabaeus in civitate Leontia, 7. Idus Iunii …” Cf.
Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, p. 114.
231 Hoffmann, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der Obodriten,” pp. 46–48; more information on
king-martyrs – ibidem, pp. 37 ff.
244 Chapter 3
other clergymen and laymen whose death was defined as passio.232 In this con-
text the way of the description of the sacrifice of Yppo seems to be first of all a
Christ-typical interpretation of his death as a priest, and not the confirmation
of a bloody religious ritual.
However, according to the chronicler, there is no doubt that in the case of
the presented martyrdom of John Scotus, the first bishop of Mecklenburg, an
offering was made to a pagan deity. He was captured with other Christians in
this town and saved for a ritual celebration of triumph. He was taken from one
Slavic town to another where he was beaten with sticks, and finally – on the
10th of December, in the “metropolis of Slavs”, i.e. Rethra – after the cutting off
of his arms and legs, he was abandoned “in platea,” which means on the street
or any other generally accessible square or yard, and his head was stuck on a
spear and offered to Redigast.233
This is certainly the chronicler’s version in which stereotypical interpreta-
tions could appear, not only with reference to the location of the place where
the events took place,234 but also in the way pagan cruelty was presented. This
is why it was sometimes considered that the cultic character of this execu-
tion was Adam’s idea.235 However, it should be emphasized that the making
232 Adam III, 50, p. 193: “Passus est autem noster Machabaeus (…) cum presbytero Yppone,
qui super altare immolatus est, et aliis multis tam laicis quam clericis, qui diversa ubique
pro Christo pertulerunt supplicia. Ansverus monacus et cum eo alii apud Razzisburg lapi-
dati sunt. Idus Iulii passio illorum occurrit.” (“Tormented to death was our Machabeus
(…) together with priest Yppo, who was sacrificed on an altar with many others, both
clergymen and laymen, who for Christ suffered various tortures in many different places.
Monk Ansver and others were stoned to death in Ratzeburg. Their torment took place on
the first of July”).
233 Adam III, 51: “Johannes episcopus senex cum ceteris christianis in Magnopoli civitate
captus servabatur ad triumphum. Ille igitur pro confessione Christi fustibus cesus, deinde
per singulas civitates Sclavorum ductus ad ludibrium, cum a Christi nomine flecti non
posset, truncatis manibus ac pedibus in platea corpus eius proiectum est, caput vero eius
desectum, quod pagani conto prefigentes in titulum victoriae deo suo Redigast immola
runt. Haec in metropoli Sclavorum Rethre gesta sunt IIII idus Novembris” (“The elderly
bishop John was captured with other Christians in Mecklenburg and kept for a triumph.
For his faith in Christ he was beaten with bats, dragged through various Slavic cities for
ridicule; as nothing could draw him back from the name of Christ, after his legs and arms
were cut off his body, the corpse was left in the street and his decapitated head was plant-
ed on a spear by the pagans as a sign of their victory and brought as sacrifice to their god
Redigast. This took place in a Slavic metropolis Rethra on the fourth ides of November”).
234 See earlier, pp. 224 f.
235 This is why other explanations of the reasons for killing John were proposed, such as a
public execution of a captive-Christian or even revenge during fights (see Urbańczyk,
Dawni Słowianie, pp. 82 f.). Łowmiański, Religia, p. 185, considered the execution of bishop
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 245
of human offerings to gods by the Slavs also has other testimonies.236 While
the chronicler’s claim in the discussed passage, that the reason for the offer-
ing was the celebration of victory, it indicates that in this way they honoured
Redigast’s military competency.237 Nevertheless, the question arises whether
offering only a head to a deity was a general rule in Polabian peoples, or if it
was only incidental.
Adam confirms that in Uppsala there were offerings made of the heads
of male living creatures (including people), whose bodies were abandoned
in a nearby forest.238 Hence, this type of practice could also be attributed to
Redigast’s worshippers as a typical custom of all pagans. The fact that it was
not strange to the Slavs is supported by information that they make offerings
of heads to demons, which was included in a letter written by the Archbishop
of Magdeburg Adalgot in about 1108.239 Similarly, nearly one hundred years
earlier in a letter written by Bruno of Querfurt to Henry II, there was informa-
tion about offering a head of a Christian to hosts of demons.240 This statement
is a metaphor for a threat against the Polish ruler, Boleslav the Brave, because
John as a trace of mutual war cruelty and not as a sacrifice. These speculations are not
able to discredit Adam.
236 According to Thietmar’s chronicle, Slavic idols needed bloody offerings, which was also
confirmed in a description of the beheading of the Christian leader of the stronghold
during the war between Mieszko I and Boleslav the Pious to worship the Liutici tutelary
deities (see above, pp. 91 f.). Human offerings, according to Nestor’s chronicle, were also
practiced in Rus’ (see PVL, under the year 6491 [983]); this information raises some doubts
because there is a biblical phrase in it, however, it is difficult to question the credibility of
the source only on the basis of a literary convention. For human offerings of the Slavs see,
e.g. Szafrański, Prahistoria, pp. 375 f., 406, 428; Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,” p. 139. It
should be added that the Baltic peoples also performed ritual killing to worship gods, see
Žulkus, Heidentum, pp. 153 f.
237 Undoubtedly a human offering stresses belligerence of Redigast-Svarožic. Offerings of
live creatures were made to deities representing power and victory (e.g. Indra, Mars); in
eastern Slavic tribes they would be most certainly made to Perun, see Gieysztor, Mitologia,
pp. 96 ff.
238 Adam IV, 27 – “Sacrificium itaque tale est: ex omni animante, quod masculinum est,
novem capita offertur, quorum sanguine deos tales placari mos est. Corpora autem sus-
penduntur in lucum, qui proximus est templo. (…) Ibi etiam canes et equi pendent cum
hominibus …” (“And the sacrifice is made as follows: from all living male creatures nine
heads are given as sacrifice and their blood is to appease those gods. The corpses are
hung in a grove nearby the sanctuary. Bodies of dogs and horses are hung together with
humans …”).
239 Text and editing, see Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, pp. 233–269; for the text of this document
see ibidem, pp. 234–236. For torture and offering heads to demons see ibidem, p. 257. Cf.
Łowmiański, Religia, p. 185.
240 See above, p. 107.
246 Chapter 3
of an alliance between the German king and the Liutici. The very selection of
the image, however, certainly corresponds with a popular opinion at that time
and connects it with the way of making offerings by pagans.
Taking into account the symbolic significance of the head or face, it is hard
to consider the idea of offering to gods this particular part of the body (as pars
pro toto) as a surprising religious act. The motif of a cut off head had occurred
in the cult of Indo-European peoples since pre-history. It was especially signifi-
cant for the Celts, whose influence on Slavic beliefs – as a remote tradition –
was sometimes taken into account.241 However, Aleksander Gieysztor quoted
in his analysis of the information discussed here examples of human offer-
ings made to Mars on Julius Caesar’s request in 46 BC.242 The heads of people
who were ritually killed on the Campus Martius were taken to the Regia build-
ing in Rome, and this motif bears similarity to the story of John Scotus’s head
being offered to Redigast, i.e. to his temple. Certainly, due to Liutici contacts
with the Scandinavian world, special attention should be paid to making of-
ferings to gods in Uppsala as an analogy to the decapitation of the bishop of
Mecklenburg mentioned before and presented by Adam of Bremen.
The very decapitation and the handing of it to personified evil in the case of
a person named John and involvement in conversion of pagans, hence also in
baptizing them, evokes an association with the story of John the Baptist, who
was killed in order to offer his head to Herod’s unlawful wife through the hands
of her daughter, Salome.243 It will remain the chronicler’s secret to what extent
he was inspired by this image, to emphasize in his description the way of kill-
ing the bishop of Mechlin/Mecklenburg. However, it is worth mentioning that
he outlined a story susceptible to allegorical interpretations referring to the
evangelical episode.
Expressis verbis he provided this kind of interpretation referring to murders
and devastations performed by insurgent Slavs, when he added a prophetic
commentary, or rather a psalmist’s lament: “And a prophecy was fulfilled
which said: >>Lord, the pagans invaded your legacy; they profaned your tem-
ple<< and other [misfortunes] that are prophetically lamented on along the
241 E.g. Jerzy Gąssowski, Mitologia Celtów (Warszawa: Wydawnictwa Artystyczne i Filmowe,
1987), p. 78. See also below, footnotes 98, 336, 378 in the chapter 4.
242 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 96 f. The basis for using the Roman example in the comparative
analysis of a decisively later and culturally different phenomenon was inspiration with
Dumézil’s theory.
243 Mk 6:17–29.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 247
2.5 Rügen
In book IV of Adam of Bremen’ work, i.e. Descriptio insularum aquilonis, there
is a reference to Rügen which attracts attention with respect to the researching
of the pre-Christian religion of the Slavs. Rügen and another island, Fehmarn,
located in the west, were notorious for being the nest of pirates and robbers.
Their exceptional cruelty is shown in the chronicler’s statement that they did
not even trade the captured travellers but simply murdered them.247
Adam presents the inhabitants of Rügen, Rans, as the strongest of Slavic
peoples, who could not even undertake any political actions against their will.248
In this statement – even when it is limited to pagan countries – there is some
exaggeration when one takes into account the possibility that there was some
lasting political dependence of the Liutici or Obodrite tribes on the island in-
habitants. However, Adam’s further words show that he means that they had to
reckon with the opinion of Rans due to the fear they caused in their neighbours –
which is essential – “due to the intimacy with gods, or rather demons, whom
they worship more than others.”249
Thus, the source of fear of the Rans was to be their special intimacy with
gods. In this assessment of the perception of the islanders by their neighbours,
it is possible to observe the specifics of Adam’s work, which strictly connected
244 Adam III, 51: “Impleta est nobiscum prophetia, quae ait: ‘Deus, enerunt gentes in heredi-
tatem tuam; polluerunt templum sanctum tuum’ et reliqua, quae prophetice deploran-
tur in Ierosolimitanae urbis excidio.” Cf. Vulgate, Ps 78, 1. Cf. Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung,
pp. 113 f.
245 Adam III, 51: “omnes Sclavi facta conspiratione generali ad paganismum denuo relapsi
sunt, eis occisis, qui perstiterunt in fide”.
246 See e.g. Adam, II, 36, where the chronicler mentioned that Eric the Victorious turned
back to paganism just after he accepted Christianity: “Hericum [scil. audivi – S.R.] post
susceptam christianitatem denuo relapsum ad paganismum”.
247 Adam IV, 18.
248 Ibidem: “gens fortissima Sclavorum, extra quorum sententiam de publicis rebus nihil agi
lex est …”
249 Ibidem: “propter familiaritatem deorum vel potius demonum, quos maiori cultu veneran-
tur quam ceteri.” It is worth emphasizing that ties with gods were interpreted here theo-
logically as a relationship with demons.
248 Chapter 3
250 This motif was developed by Helmold by attributing a special role in the rule of this com-
munity to Svantevit’s oracle and his priest (see below, pp. 359, 364 ff.). It is essential that
Adam does not confirm this theocratic element in the Rans’ political system, and in a
gloss added to this chapter there is only information that they are ruled by a “king” (“soli
habent regem”), see Adam IV, 18, schol. 121.
251 See above, pp. 222 ff.
252 In the 50’s and 60’s of the 12th c., see below, pp. 295 ff.
253 Taking over this hegemony can be confirmed by e.g. intervention expeditions against
the centres of their kinsmen accepting Christianity, Janisław Osięgłowski, “Początki
słowiańskiej Rugii do roku 1168 (Zagadnienia etniczne i polityczne),” Materiały
Zachodniopomorskie 13 (1967), pp. 254, 264; Babij, Wojskowość, p. 171. See also below, p. 356.
254 Adam IV, 18: “quarum odor letiferum nostro orbi propinavit superbiae venenum”. Cf.
Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 215. See also Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, pp. 193.
255 In this respect medieval authors continued the antique tradition, which was expressed
not only in duplicating stereotypical opinions, but also in a lack of understanding of the
conditioning of these positive attitudes and characteristics of barbarians, their rights, so
as to ensure the well-being of the whole community (e.g. not to cause revenge for not
rendering help). In the case of contempt for luxurious goods, one should take into ac-
count, e.g. the significance of manifesting the social position of the host, ostentatious
affluence expressed in the generous offering of gifts to strangers (see e.g. Modzelewski,
Barbarzyńska Europa, pp. 27 ff.). See also Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, pp. 187 ff.
256 See above, pp. 233 f.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 249
The presentation of pagan Slavs, their history, customs and religion in Adam
of Bremen’s work was considerably influenced by promotion of the idea of
barbarian peoples’ conversion. The terms gentes, naciones, or populi refer to
ethnic and political communities, however – especially when they are used in
plural form – in the chronicler’s perspective they are primarily a missionary
space, in accordance with one of the basic tasks justifying the establishment
of the Hamburg-Bremen metropolis. Adam, like Thietmar before him, presents
the Christianization of barbarians mainly in the dimension of collective life
as encompassing whole peoples in both the empire’s and the Church’s area of
influence.
In this context the religion of the Slavs gained a definite pejorative assess-
ment. The Slavs themselves, however, were not perceived in an equally pejora-
tive way. Certainly, they were attributed with cruelty, which was stereotypical
in the assessment of barbarians, but in this case, it was strictly connected with
their idolatrous practices. On the other hand, in the presentation of these peo-
ples there was a place to include the topos of noble, kind barbarians. It was
used to refer to the inhabitants of Iumne, who found no equal among other
peoples in terms of their customs and hospitality (“moribus et hospitalitate
257 Adam IV, 18: “Multa possent dici ex illis populis laudabilia in moribus, si haberent solam
fidem Christi, cuius predicatores immaniter persecuntur.” Cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das
Fremde, pp. 215 f.
258 Ibidem. In this context there is a reference to the martyrdom of St. Adalbert killed by these
barbarians, and also information about the careful watch of cult groves and springs to
prevent them from being defiled by Christians setting their foot there.
250 Chapter 3
nulla gens honestior aut benignior”). At the same time it is depicted as the
richest and most splendid among Slavic centres, focalizing the whole world
like a lens for its openness to visitors from all over the world, which is clearly
depicted in topical topical phrase Greci et Barbari.
It is worth remembering that its use in the New Testament creates an image
of the whole of humankind as the addressee of the gospel, and the presence of
this universalist element in the image of Iumne is strengthened by Roman as-
sociations in the convention of description (names of Vulcanus and Neptune).
Moreover, Adam amplifies the significance of the city claiming that it is the
“largest city in Europe.” The location of this centre in the zone of influence of
the Hamburg-Bremen metropolis’ missionary plans corresponds with its aspi-
rations to become one of the main capitals of Christianity, worthy of the rank
of the Metropolis – may be even Patriarchy – of the North. The key element in
the realization of these pursuits was the mission on the Slavic lands, and thus
it is not accidental that the chronicler emphasized the location of the city at
the mouth of the Oder. This river acted in his narrative as an axis connecting
the whole of Slavdom, and its “mouth” in Latin was in fact a gate, ostium, to the
whole community of these peoples.
Iumne, however, is neither the centre of Slavdom in the religious
dimension – in this respect it gives way to Rethra, located on the Liutici Redars
land, which was the “capital of idolatry” – nor the geographic one, because it
is located on the outskirts of the ecumene, near the “Scythian marshes.” It is
essential that an analogous scheme was used by Adam and is an assignation
of significance to particular peoples when he presented three, in his opinion
insular, communities living in Fehmarn, Rügen, and Semland.
The last of these “islands” was in fact land inhabited by the Prussians or
Sambians. It is the farthest located point in relation to >>the observation
point<< in Bremen, and it is this place that is the counterpart of Iumne ac-
cording to the scheme. The local Barbarians were homines humanissimi, righ-
teous by nature, and were strict yet not contaminated with vices typical of the
Christian circle in which the chronicler lived. The Redars, the “middle” tribe
which was also the most powerful one, corresponded with Rügen located in
the middle of this group of “islands,” and it was inhabited by the Rans who
were the most familiarized with their gods (“or rather demons”), and simulta-
neously the most cruel pirates and hegemons in relation to their neighbours.
In the case of stereotypical positive assessments of barbarian customs, one
can find an element of fascination with strangeness or indication of models of
conduct in the environment of the addressees of this work, or stigmatization
of their vices by contrasting them with attitudes of good pagans. First however,
it showed that their nature was not completely corrupt by the sin of idolatry,
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 251
and hence the postulate of their conversion is such a burning issue. The chron-
icler unambiguously mentions that the major vice of these noble barbarians is
the cultivation of their religion.259
In this concept of the presentation of pagans, it is possible to indicate the
presence of an analogous thought structure to the one presented in the his-
toriology of St. Augustine by the idea of civitas terrena (an earthly state or
community). It is initially happy, living in harmony with the Creator, yet in
consequence of sin gradually becomes more and more corrupt and subdued
to the power of civitas diaboli. The last one, i.e. the devil’s community or state,
finds its counterpart in the Slavic world, as it is presented by Adam of Bremen
as a place in which the ruleship of the prince of demons with its capital in
Rethra is located. However, this is not a strictly spiritual reality, because it also
encompasses the peoples practising cult of idols. Therefore, for the Slavs this
“capital of idolatry” is the most famous city (civitas vulgatissima).
As enemies and persecutors of Christians, these Slavic communities gain
the name of “God’s enemies” – inimici Dei.260 On the other hand they are the
addressees of evangelization, and – importantly in this case – in the light of
the tradition referring to (forged) papal documents, their land was to be sub-
ordinated to the Hamburg-Bremen archbishopric. Therefore, this metropolis is
becoming an antithesis of Rethra, but it is still hard to consider it a counterpart
of the Augustinian civitas Dei. Its authority exists only in the dimension of the
church, and in the case of “God’s state” the immanent order was that of the
empire (imperium). Adam appreciates the role of the imperial factor in sup-
porting the mission, which allows for the realization of the ideal of civitas Dei
in this cooperation between the institution of the Church and the monarchy.
However, it rather refers to the whole empire instead of the metropolis itself.
It should be emphasized, therefore, that accentuation of certain analogies
to the historiology of St. Augustine is not to emphasize that there are borrow-
ings from patristic thought in Adam’s work, but rather to stress that he referred
to a certain archetypical model of interpretation of the mission space (ad gen-
tes!), which did not assume only a bipolar juxtaposition of the orders of good
and evil, Christianity and paganism, etc. The most important aspect in this case
was the view that the element of the original good survived in the nature of pa-
gans despite their idolatric practices. Premises for this type of interpretation
259 In Iumne, according to Adam, being Christian was tolerated and only public practising of
this religion was banned.
260 This was the name used to refer to the Christians who were joined by the Obodrite duke
Gottschalk during the time of his apostasy.
252 Chapter 3
of history can be found in biblical theology motivating the need to bring salva-
tion to pagans.
The first temporary attempt at Christianizing the Slavs subordinated to
the Hamburg metropolis was located by Adam of Bremen as early as the time
of Charlemagne. The second time they became Christian took place in the
Ottonian epoch, only to return to paganism after the seventy symbolic years.
This next moral fall (relapsio), according to the chronicler, was a kind of humili-
ation of the Slavs by God himself, who – for reasons of mysterious judgement –
allowed the Scandinavian peoples to supersede them in the “race of faith,”
although they were baptized later. This situation is explained by the chroni-
cler with a reference to the biblical image of Israel conquering Canaan, where
there were Philistines faithful to their idolatry, left as a possible tool of God’s
punishment.261
Overcoming the consequences of this impasse in the mission among the
Slavs was later connected by the chronicler with the times of the Obodrite
duke Gottschalk, who venerated the Hamburg-Bremen metropolis “like a
mother.” He taught the people himself and funded churches and monasteries.
In the description of his death during the pagan reaction in 1066, he was called
“our Machabee” (noster Machabeus). Whereas the destruction of the Church
network in Polabia in this rebellion was commented on by the chronicler using
Psalm 78:1: “Deus, enerunt gentes in hereditatem tuam; polluerunt templum
sanctum tuum”, which he completed with a punchline: the Slavs rejected the
faith killing of those who remained dedicated to it. In the chronicler’s perspec-
tive this persecution was not a form of punishment for Christians’ sins but a
time of testing their faith.
Thus, at that moment the rebellious Slavs did not become “like Philistines,”
but instead donned the comparison to the biblical Amorites. The fiasco of this
stage of activities aimed at the conversion of the Polabian tribes is justified by
Adam with an allegorical statement that “the iniquity of the Amorites” was
not yet full and the time to show them mercy had not yet come. This theo-
logical conviction that the final conversion of the Slavs was to be preceded by
reaching a full measure of iniquity, somehow sounds optimistic. Deeper and
deeper immersion of pagan Slavs in evil – due to increasing waves of apostasy –
paradoxically brings the moment of including them in the Church nearer,
261 In this particular historical situation Saxons were punished especially for their pride (a
prime example here is calling the Slavic duke a dog) and prioritising political and eco-
nomic benefits over support for the missionary work. According to Adam, the conversion
of the Slavs was to stop the rebellion and cruelty devastating the Christian community.
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 253
because it did not depend on their virtues, but on the supernatural interven-
tion of Providence in history.262
A model of this type of interpretation can be found in the apocalyptics of
the New Testament.263 It is essential that it corresponds with Adam’s descrip-
tion of Rethra. There is a certain literary similarity between the presentation
of New Babylon in the Book of Revelation to St. John, and additionally the very
“capital of idolatry” (Rethra) as a habitat of demons, whose princeps, Redigast,
was worshipped there. The dedication of the famous sanctuary – in the chroni-
cler’s opinion – to demons remained in agreement with the conviction that
the cult of idols, being an alternative to the worship of God, was actually ad-
dressed to demons.264 This is why entering this town, to serve demons, meant
immersion in eternal death, which is indicated by the commentary connected
with Rethra’s description, in the information about the waters of the Styx that
surrounded the souls of peoples serving idols. This gloomy place was the place
where also Christian clergy were to be murdered.
The information about it – especially the martyrdom of John, the bishop
of Mecklenburg – refers to the third rejection of Christianity by the Slavs. In
the case of the earlier wave of pagan reaction, dated by Adam to the end of
the pontificate of Libentius, the archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen, there is in-
formation about dragging martyrs from one Slavic town to another for “the
show for people and angels.” The fact that Rethra was not distinguished among
them was most certainly not accidental. According to Adam, until that time
Christianity flourished in the whole area “between the Elbe and Oder,” hence
Rethra being located there could become the “capital of idolatry” only later,
in effect of the return of paganism. It maintained its significance in the times
of Gottschalk, who did not manage to complete his work of the reconversion
of Slavdom.
In Adam’s concept, the primacy of Rethra in the circle of (Slavic) pagan-
ism was a situation contemporary to him.265 Outlining the bipolar picture of
262 In scholion 83 it is emphasized that the Slavs rejected the already introduced Christianity
three times in a row, in the times of Charlemagne, Otto the Great and the Obodrite
Gottschalk: “Haec est Sclavorum tertia negatio, qui primo facti sunt a Karolo christiani, se-
cundo ab Ottone, tertio nunc ab Godescalco principe”. The cyclicality of Christianization
waves shown here was used by Helmold following in Adam’s footsteps in his work, and
became the basis to build narration about the conversion of the Slavs which was the
main subject of his Cronica Slavorum (see below). See also e.g. Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung,
pp. 113 ff.
263 Cf. Rev 18:2.
264 1 Cor 10:20.
265 Possibly this opinion of the chronicler raises doubts in the light of other sources, espe-
cially Annales Augustani, under the year 1068, about the destruction of Rethra.
254 Chapter 3
266 The conviction on the existence of Rethra corresponds with Thietmar’s information
about Radogošč or Annales Augustani (see above, p. 129). It is also worth reminding that
an analogy between the image of Rethra and the presentation of Uppsala in Adam of
Bremens’ chronicle, taken into account in the discussion so far, was based not only on
similarity in creating literary visions of such a capital centre in the context of the role
attributed to paganism. On the example of Rethra, it is possible to observe that even a
very sophisticated literary interpretation was based on the historical substrate of pagan-
ism. Taking into account that it was characteristic of the chronicler’s work routines, it is
worth taking into account that the image of the temple in Uppsala in Adam’s account
was also based on the literary interpretation of data about the actual cult centre in this
place. By analogy, the case of Rethra can be useful in the discussion on Adam’s credibility
as an informer about the temple in Uppsala and it can undermine statements assuming
the complete fictitiousness of the description, e.g. on the basis of assumptions related to
pragmatic goals (i.e. satirical polemic against the Gregorians) pursued in the chronicler’s
work (see e.g. Janson, Templum, pp. 257–320).
Adam of Bremen on Slavic Religion 255
clearly visible not only in the occurrence of the above discussed stereotypical
assessments of barbarians, but also in recalling literate culture as a determi-
nant of the barrier between Christianity and Slavic religion – the information
that Gottschalk abandoned “cum fide litteris” is characteristic in this context.267
Finally it is worth emphasizing that Adam’s treatment of the “islands of the
North” as a separate circle in the barbaricum zone was a decisive factor in di-
minishing the importance of the integral connection between the Rans and
the major part of the Slavic pre-Christian communities situated on land on the
pages of his work. This situation was changed by Helmold in how he continued
the history of the conversion of the Slavs a century later.
267 The topos of “dogs” (canes) should be added here, it is discussed below, see pp. 289 ff.
Chapter 4
Helmold, although the author of such an outstanding source for the history
of the Polabian Slavs as The Chronicle of the Slavs, remains rather unknown.
Neither the date nor the place of his birth has been established and there is
no information about his parents and the environment from which he came.
The information about his name was conveyed by Arnold of Lübeck, who un-
dertook to continue Helmold’s work which he wrongly treated as unfinished.
B. Schmeidler proposed to treat the expression used by Helmold with refer-
ence to the battle of Welfesholz (1115) as the most famous one “in our times” as
a premise to consider this date terminus ante quem as the chronicler’s birth.1
However, a more convincing argument results from immortalizing Helmold
as a witness in a document from September 1150. He had the title of a deacon,
which at that time was conferred at the age of at least twenty-five, so conse-
quently the above-mentioned boundary is moved to approximately 1125.2
Contrary to an earlier concept from the first half of the 19th c. that he
came from Holstein, the current prevailing view is that he came from Central
Germany. His ties with the Nordalbings, among whom he happened to work
as a priest, are explained by the hypothesis that Helmold’s family moved with
a wave of emigration to the Harz Mountains after Nordalbingia fell under the
rule of the Obodrite duke Kruto (d. 1093). Helmold is the only scribe to men-
tion this event and he gives the number of six hundred Holstein families par-
ticipating in it. After coming back to the land of his ancestors, already as a
priest, he felt disappointed with the austerity of the lives and customs of this
faction of his own tribe, which explains his aversion to them.
Counterbalancing this way of thinking is his detailed knowledge of Central
Germany, claimed to be a result of contacts with the bishop of Starigard –
Vicelin. Thus, the problem of Helmold’s homeland remains unsolved: it
1 Helmold I, 40.
2 Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” in Helmolda Kronika Słowian, trans. Józef Matuszewski, ed.
Jerzy Strzelczyk (Warszawa: PWN, 1974), p. 15; ibidem account of the discussion; cf. Heinz
Stoob, “Einleitung,” in Helmoldi presbyteri bozoviensis Chronica Slavorum, ed. Heinz Stoob,
Ausgewählte Quellen zur deutschen Geschichte des Mittelalters. Freiherr vom Stein-
Gedächtnisausgabe 19 (Darmstadt: Wissenschaftliche Buchgesellschaft, 1963), p. 3; Scior, Das
Eigene und das Fremde, p. 139.
3 Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 15–18. Cf. Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 3; Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde,
p. 139.
4 Helmold I, 47, p. 93.
5 In Helmold’s eyes Church relations among the inhabitants of Holstein must have left a lot to
be desired – Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 2.
6 Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 18–20; Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 4.
258 Chapter 4
priest. A more convincing thesis claims that until his death (after 1177) he was
a parish priest in Bosau.7
Despite some grammatical mistakes, his Latin is clear and lively. Although
there are frequent repetitions of various phrases which suggest that he did not
use it completely effortlessly. B. Schmeidler claimed that this linguistic clum-
siness in the Chronicle of the Slavs indicates difficulties in translation from
German – the language in which Helmold thought and preached – into Latin.8
H. Stoob paid attention to the fact that due to this stylistic awkwardness, errors
and repetitions were not evenly distributed in the work and thus he concluded
that although the parish priest from Bosau was well educated, he tried to write
in a simple way for the sake of the addressees of his work. Finally, it is hard to
decide just on the basis of the chronicle how well he was educated, but there
are reasons to believe that he did not lack talent for writing.
On the basis of the joint analysis of chapters 103–104 Stoob showed that
Helmold was able to create a clear and well-designed text composition, in ac-
cordance with the traditional rhetoric canons.9 Moreover, on the pages of the
chronicle one can find poetic attempts of rather poor quality.10 His strength is
biblical quotations, which is not surprising in this intellectual circle. He fre-
quently decorated his texts with biblical expressions and verses. However, his
knowledge of patristics was not so good. He knew the Dialogues of Gregory
the Great – although it is hard to say if he read them personally – which were
certainly useful in his preaching. It should be added that the use of the Bible in
the chronicle also has an overtone of pulpit preaching.
In Helmold’s chronicle there are also references to Boethius’s works: De con-
solatione philosophiae and his not very well known translation of Aristotle’s
works, later also Sulpicius Severus’ Vita S. Martini and his letters, as well as
the Life of St. John the Merciful (known most probably thanks to the Golden
Legend), and lastly the anonymous Disticha Catonis. The list of Classical au-
thors whose works could have been read by the chronicler when he was
still at school encompasses Virgil, Ovid, Sallust, Plautus, Horace, Lucan and
Terentius. However, it is hard to decide definitively whether references to
7 Hemold’s life in 1152–1163 is reflected in the following chapters of his chronicle: 73, 83, 84,
95. See ibidem, p. 20–25; Stoob, “Einleitung,” pp. 5 ff.
8 Bernhard Schmeidler, “Einleitung,” in Helmoldi presbyteri Bozoviensis Cronica Slavorum,
ed. Bernhard Schmeidler, MGH SSrerGerm in usum scholarum (1937), p. xv.
9 Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 12. The intention to simplify the message by Helmold is supported
by omissions of sophisticated details when rewriting some passages of Adam of Bremen’s
work (see below, pp. 266 f.).
10 Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 37, 39–40. There one can find a concise discussion on the lan-
guage of the Chronicle.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 259
11 For Helmold’s literary erudition see Brygida Kürbis, “Helmold,” in SSS, vol. 2, p. 199; and
more extensively: Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 34–40; Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 10 ff.
12 Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 33 f.
13 The preface of the chronicle confirms that Gerold was no longer alive when this passage
was written (Helmold did not list him among the people he dedicated his work to), how-
ever, it is hard to exclude that the preface was not written after finishing the book started
when the bishop was still alive.
260 Chapter 4
14 For notions of gens, populus and natio in Adam of Bremen’s work see above p. 208.
15 Helmold, [Praefatio], p. 1.
16 Ibidem, p. 2.
17 Stoob, “Einleitung,” p. 2.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 261
18 A
rnoldi abbati Lubicensis Chronica, ed. Johann Martin Lappenberg, MGH SS 21 (1869),
Prologus, p. 115: “historias de subactione seu vocatione Sclavorum et gesta pontificum,
quorum instantia ecclesie harum regione invaluerunt”.
19 Helmold I, [Praefatio], p. 1: “propter magnum scribendi studium omnibus negotiorum
tumulultibus renuntiarunt, ut in secreto contemplationis otio invenire possent viam sa-
pientiae, preferentes eam auro obryzo et cunctis opibus preciosis; qui etiam extendentes
aciem ingenii ad invisibilia Dei et ipsis arcanis aproximare cupientes plerumque supra
vires laborare nisi sunt. Alii autem, quorum conatus non fuit tanti, consistentes in suae
dispositionis meta, auxerunt et ipsi de simplicitate sua arcana scripturarum, multaque ab
ipsa constitutione mundi de regibus et prophetis et variis bellorum eventibus commen-
tantes, super virtutibus laudem, vitiis vero detestationem suis preconiis addiderunt.”
20 Ibidem: “In huius enim seculi tenebrosa caligine, si desit lucerna scripturarum, ceca sunt
omnia”. Comments on Helmold’s motivation see Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 27 f.
21 Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 199.
262 Chapter 4
those who cowardly hide facts for the sake of their security, but however, he
finds no justification for those who lie to gain profits, revile the righteous, or
attribute merits to the unworthy. This rather pessimistic introduction can hy-
pothetically be a reply to criticism towards his first journey by a topical “ship of
description”22 on the sea of history, which could take place in the environment
of a new bishop. Or, perhaps these words were dictated by the anxiety that by
writing about his contemporaries, he would have to pay for his faithfulness to
the idea of the Slavic mission with accusations of subjectivity and a fight for
human favours.
The motifs described above (i.e. referring to models of earlier writers, the
obligation to describe missionaries’ merits, and the encouragement of his su-
perior) in large part have a topical nature. Hence it is hard to discern to what
extent it shows the real intention of the chronicler in these conventional
confessions.23 The general findings related to the topic correspond with
Helmold’s moralistic complaints about the pride of his contemporaries, who
instead of undertaking a description of the immenseness of phenomena oc-
curring by the power of God’s judgements, devoted their lives to dangerous,
worldly vanities.24
A personal factor is equally important in explaining the creation of the
chronicle. The work raised the prestige of the parish priest from Bosau in the
Lübeck environment. Bishop Conrad – Gerold’s own brother and successor –
especially in the initial period of his office did not enjoy Helmold’s friendly feel-
ings, which must have been a reciprocated attitude. It is possible that Helmold
started to write in appreciation of the opinion-forming role of historiography
and to contribute to the grandeur of Gerold’s times and his achievements in
the Christianization of the Slavs. He himself played a role in the described suc-
cess and, thanks to the dignity of scripture, gained an unquestionable position
among the Lübeck clergymen.
It is possible that the full concept of the work was born and shaped when
it was being written, however, the clear and well thought over arrangement
22 In the preface to book II (Helmold II, 96) the chronicler used such a topos. See Leonid
Arbusow, Colores rhetorici (Göttingen: Vandenhoeck & Ruprecht, 1963), pp. 97–103; cf.
Strzelczyk in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 375 (footnote comment).
23 L. Arbusow, as above; cf. Strzelczyk in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 75 (footnote comment). An
argument supporting the conventional character of the declared reasons for writing
(causa scribendi) is also the fact that Helmold only very generally referred to the model
of earlier writers, while there is no doubt that he borrowed the idea of describing the his-
tory of his own diocese and the ways of developing the tradition of its splendour from the
work of Adam of Bremen.
24 H
elmold I, [Praefatio]; cf. Curtius, Literatura europejska, pp. 94–96.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 263
of the text contradicts it. H. Stoob observed that the initial part of Book I of
the Chronicle of the Slavs, heavily dependent on Adam of Bremen’s work, in its
form somewhat resembles the three cycles of the Christianization of the Slavs.
A similar rising and falling rhythm of two more waves of Christianization in
Slavdom is used in the construction of the later, more independent narration
of Book I until – one would think – a definitive implantation of Christianity
in the country of the Obodrites and Wagrians took place.25 A fortunate com-
pletion of numerous church and state matters could have actually resulted in
some feeling of stabilization. Meanwhile, the original intention of the chroni-
cler was outdated by a large number of new events to which he could not re-
main neutral.
So, the first version of the work, in which on the threshold of the Slavic
mission there was Charlemagne to consider and its completion was being de-
termined by Gerold, needed to be updated. This happened in the Book II of
the chronicle, which reported history as it broke (probably accompanied by
surprise and definitely without an appropriate distance of time necessary to
create a well thought over concept), one may find another sequence of events
following the missionary development and cycles of apostasy from the begin-
ning of the work. The difference is in changing the order of events and the
resulting positive end of this revolution of the historical cycle. It starts with
a description of the uprising of the Obodrite tribe led by Niklot’s sons, and is
followed by the intervention of the Saxons in Pomerania, inner German per-
turbations and problems of the emperor in Italy, and finally announces the
definitive victory of Christianity as a result of the conquest of Rugia and paci-
fication of the Obodrite land.26
The small size of book II, finished at the latest in 1172, should not be treated
as a sign that the work is unfinished, as was thought by Arnold of Lübeck and
some other scholars.27 For in this book there is plainly written, with a dramatic
overtone, the epilogue of the conversion of the last pre-Christian Slavs.28 One
may go even further in speculations and identify premises that Helmold, when
returning to his chronicler’s duties after a certain break, treated this book as a
separate work, although it was related to the previous one.29 In the exegesis of
the text one should take into account the outlining autonomy of both books.
Even the very structure of the Chronicle of the Slavs encourages reflection
on the historical and theological method of Helmold’s writing. Some facts,
especially in the time close to the author and his contemporaries, break the
model cyclicality, and the scheme which is quite clear at the beginning of the
work is gradually blurred (especially in Book II). However, the regularity and
repetition of certain composition structures observed by H. Stoob do not seem
accidental. Although an explanation of its genesis should not be searched for
in the clearly doctrinal aspect, as it would impute Helmold to such a method of
work, this would turn the Chronicle of the Slavs into only a theological concept
illustrated with appropriately collated historical examples. Such a perspective
would be an oversimplification and one should take into account additional
factors shaping the image of the past presented in the chronicle.
The order of narration was influenced first and foremost by the chronology
of events, which does not change the fact that the perspective of presenting his-
torical information is marked with the extensive use of clichés deeply rooted in
the author’s mentality. In the Middle Ages, at the time of a particular connec-
tion between mentality and the doctrinal system of Christianity, the chronicler
entwined dimensions of the theological interpretation of the course of events
with their historical account. As a result, the description of events dictated by
cycles of fortune and misfortune of the Chosen People, known from the Old
Testament, was quite easy for him. Elements in such a cyclical historical drama
are also stereotypically constructed literary creations of historical characters.
Consequently, Helmold in a way fell into the order of a scheme which he pos-
sibly was not really aware of, apart from the material taken from Adam.
Following J. Strzelczyk one should emphasize that “Adam of Bremen en-
compassed the northern part of Polabia synthetically showing it like a bird’s
eye view of this area.” Yet, “Helmold presented a relatively precise image of the
decadent Slavic period in the history of Wagria, which does not have a coun-
terpart on the scale of the whole of Polabia.”30 However, one should not forget
that “Helmold was German, a German clergyman and although in his work
he presented a lot of precious information about the Slavs and sometimes it
would seem he sympathised with them, the Chronicle of the Slavs remained a
monument of German historiography.”31
32 The matter of manuscripts and their filiation, editions and scientific studies on Helmold’s
chronicle until 1974 is exhaustingly presented by Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 45–66; Stoob,
“Einleitung,” pp. 19–22; Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 142 f.
266 Chapter 4
of “in how great bounds of errors they had been entangled before [they could
receive] the grace of conversion, in order that the efficacy of the divine rem-
edy could be more easily acknowledged due to the great size of sickness.”33
Treating paganism as a captivity in the fetters of errors and a disease allows
the Slavs to be seen as people expecting deliverance and healing from Christ.
Simultaneously, this is the first clear signal in his work of the ecclesiastical in-
terpretation of their native religion. Next, the chronicler presented a panora-
ma of Slavic peoples determining their location and neighbourhood.
Most of this material was borrowed from Adam of Bremen’s work and was
also compiled following the example of the fourth book i.e. Descriptio insula-
rum aquilonis.34 Helmold’s original contribution in the first chapter was the
presentation of the condition of Christianity in Slavdom (Slavania / Slavia)
and the neighbouring countries. Some of these people are praised, like the
Bavarians, and some are reprimanded, like the Poles, whose military forces –
although brave – when looting the invaded areas, never saved churches or
monasteries and graveyards.35 Thus, belonging to the Christian circle as
such does not mean a positive attitude of the chronicler toward a particular
people.36 Moreover, his moderate favour could be shown to pagans. In the ma-
terial borrowed from Adam of Bremen, the Prussian thread was mentioned
too. According to Helmold’s words, although they were devoid of the “light of
faith”, they were “multis naturalibus bonis prediti” (“endowed with many natu-
ral virtues”).37
Chapter II: De civitate Vinneta brings a repetition of the information given
by Adam of Bremen on the religion of the Slavs in passages on Iumne, Rethra,
and lastly Rügen. It is characteristic that when rewriting the information on the
Redigast temple, Helmold disregarded a real pearl of interpretatio Christiana:
the correspondence of nine gates with nine streams of water, which like the
Styx were to separate the souls of peoples practising idolatrous cult leading
to death. Maybe such sophisticated phraseology was not understood by the
33 Helmold I, 1: “quantis scilicet ante conversionis gratiam errorum nexibus impliciti fuerint,
ut per quantitatem morbi facilius agnoscatur efficacia divini remedii.” This metaphorical
assessment pictures the specifics of missionary theology, it is also supplemented by such
figurative expressions as “the light of faith” (cf. ibidem, p. 6). This aspect of mission theory
is discussed e.g. by Padberg, “Christen,” pp. 303 ff.
34 Cf. Helmold I, 1 (see editor’s comments on margins, p. 5–7).
35 Ibidem: “homines divino cultui dediti, nec est ulla gens honestior et in cultu Dei et sacer-
dotum veneratione devocior”.
36 Ibidem. Helmold even emphasized that the Poles had eight bishoprics.
37 Ibidem. Positive characteristics of the Old Prussians by Adam of Bremen with regret that
they are pagan is discussed below, see pp. 248 ff. See also Cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das
Fremde, pp. 215 f.; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 339.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 267
parish priest from Bosau. It is also possible that he did not value complex met-
aphors taking into consideration the abilities of the planned recipient of his
work. Both of these solutions remain only speculations. In a similarly puzzling
way the information about the “Vulcan’s pot”, i.e. the Greek fire, disappeared
from the description of Iumne borrowed from his predecessor.38
The most important change in Helmold’s chronicle in relation to the text of
the cannon of Bremen is a change of the name of the famous Iumne to Vineta
and the statement that this town disappeared from the earth. Not having found
the world centre of the Slavs and other peoples in the then-declining and al-
ready Christian Wolin (or possibly another nearby centre at the Oder mouth),39
the chronicler proclaimed a total devastation of this town by a Danish king
(and there is certainly a grain of truth in this information40), thus allowing a
mysterious legend to surround this town.
The story started to take on its own life in the folk culture of the modern
age as an independent story, developed by its interpreters and adjusted to tem-
porary needs and ideas.41 A turning point in critical research on the legend,
or maybe only its forerunner, was C.F. Rumohr’s idea that the beginnings of
the legend should not be sought after in the Slavic oral tradition but in the
scholarly knowledge of the Middle Ages.42 Further analyses proved that this
statement was right.
It is often assumed that the source of this legend was Helmold’s ignorance,
which is certainly possible. However, the matter remains unclear. Contrary
to the conviction of Helmold’s ignorance on the location of Iumne, his own
statement is worth remembering here: “It is said that some king of the Danes,
having oppressed that opulent city with a great fleet, obliterated it from the
foundations. Here up till now are the ancient monuments of that city.”43 The
Danish king mentioned here must be Magnus, who destroyed Iumne (probably
Wolin) in 1043, according to Adam of Bremen and the Arnórr jarlaskáld song.44
Helmold explicitly states that the remains of this town survived until his times,
which means that he had clear information on the matter.
It is easy to assume that in the rebuilt Wolin and its surroundings there
could be remains of a bigger town settlement. However, the chronicler must
have also seen a lack of continuity in the history of this town which, as it is
known, was called Wolin (Vulin, Iulin) in the 12th c.,45 and no Iumne, a name
known to Helmold from in the chronicle of Adam of Bremen, and related in
this narrative to the earlier period in the city’s history.46 Helmold must have
known how the process of Christianization of this area was conducted because
in chapter 40 he mentions the mission of the bishop Otto of Bamberg with an
amiable tone in his account. However, the details of this action and the history
of the nearby bishopric with the capitol in Wolin were not in the area of his
interests.
Helmold generally rewrote with faithfulness whole parts of the text from
the chronicle of Adam of Bremen, but by changing the name of an existing
town, he turned it into a legend reaching – which was his intention – an indefi-
nite past.47 The motif behind such an effort was probably a need to erase such
a positive model as the inhabitants of Iumne in Adam’s work from his image of
contemporary Slavs. Then we would be dealing with Helmold’s licentia poetica,
as he used the motif from his predecessor’s work to illustrate, in his opinion,
an outworn tradition of “good” Slavs, changing the original name of their town.
This name transformation may mean the latinization of the previous name.
Yet, its most important advantage was forming a basis for the development of
43 Helmold I, 2: “Hanc civitatem opulentissimam quidam Danorum rex maxima classe sti-
patus funditus evertisse refertur. Presto sunt adhuc antiquae illius civitatis monimenta.”
44 See above, footnote 40 in this chapter.
45 E.g. Ekkechardi Uraugiensis chronica, under the year 1125, p. 264; Vita Prieflingensis II, 5;
Ebo II, 1. It is interesting that Helmold showed great intuition or he was simply fortunate
to break the association between the names Iumne and Iulin, because they most probably
have different origins (see above, pp. 232 f.).
46 The name Iumne already is attested in Scandinavian sources, though this does not change
the fact that the name also has a Slavic origin. For discussion on the matter see above,
pp. 232 f.
47 He added the ‘-ta’ ending, while the beginning ‘ium-’, ‘win-’, ‘uinn-’ could have changed as
a result of discrepancies in rewriting – see above, p. 226, footnote 151.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 269
the medieval etymology: Vineta is the “town of the Vinedes”48 (Winithi), inden-
tified also as Vandals.49
Helmold’s literary device turned a historical motif into a mythic reality,
which presented a universal message on the nature of the Slavs, which had
already been deprived. In the perspective of Adam of Bremen’s work it was a
historical town which in many respects served as an example for Christians;
Helmold – writing at the time of crusades against the Polabian and Pomeranian
Slavs – presented them as barbarians and, even worse, as apostates and blas-
phemers with regard to the true God.50 In his description written after the dev-
astation of Vineta as the town of good Slavs, the leaders of the Baltic islands are
the Rugians who are the worst of all.51
Thus, Helmold’s case suggests the birth mechanism of a new literary motif
based on ignorance or – which seems more certain – on his own interpretation
of history dictated by the pragmatic elements of his work. An original contribu-
tion of the chronicler from Bosau is a general opinion about the Slavic people,
which was not known from Adam of Bremen’s work: “Such are therefore the
peoples of the Slavs spread out across the regions, provinces and islands in the
sea. All that kind of men is dedicated to the cult of idolatry, always wandering
and mobile, who make profit out of piracy, on the Danes on one side, and on
the Saxons on the other.”52 Damage caused to neighbours urged emperors and
the clergy to undertake an effort to make “gentes istae rebelles et incredulae”
recognize “the name of God and the holy grace.”
This summary of characteristics seems to reflect stereotypical views on
the seaside Slavs. Idolatry, mobility, and piracy seem to be the markers of
Barbarians identification. Expressions such as rebelles and increduli are basic
in the topic range of the characteristics of peoples who did not want to accept
German (Christian) supremacy.53
57 Ibidem: “qui ad imbuendas rudes in fide animas verbo et exemplo sufficerent. Quibus
etiam huius vitae stipendia memoratus cesar multo honore, plena denique munificentia
providit.” All these activities led to the successful final: “Perfectum est igitur in Saxonia
novellae plantationis opus et pleno vigore constabilitum”.
58 Ibidem, p. 12 (Editor’s note); also a comment in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 94.
59 Helmold I, 3. Cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 173.
60 I bidem I, 4: “Hic ubi super Hammemburg patris sui comperit votum, communicato
statim sapientum consilio sanctissimum virum Anscarium, quem etiam aliquando ad
Danos et Suedos predicatorem direxerat, Hammemburgensi ecclesiae ordinari fecit ar-
chiepiscopum, statuens eandem civitatem metropolim universis borealibus populis,
egatio verbi Dei exinde uberius pollularet in omnes barbaras naciones. Quod et factum
est. Nam Hammemburgensis ecclesiae pontificum instantia disseminatum est verbum
Dei in omnes Slavorum, Danorum, sive Northmannorum populos, et dissolutum est geli-
dum illud frigus aquilonis a calore verbi Dei. Multis itaque diebus sive annis maximisque
272 Chapter 4
The said “chilling cold of the North” is not neutral in Christian symbol-
ism, but rather it is strictly connected with the area of activity of the impure
spirit.61 Wars were an additional difficulty in undertaking the mission under
Hamburg’s patronage. This summary reflection on the metropolitan goals and
the difficulties in achieving them also refers to the Slavs, which provided an
opportunity to give a theological assessment of their religion (error, ydolatria).
Turmoil resulting from war (especially the Danish invasions) during the
reign of Louis the German paralyzed the church network in Saxony. It recov-
ered its operation thanks to the activity of St. Anskar, who joined in his hands
the bishopric of Bremen and archbishopric of Hamburg (thus there was “one
sheepfold and one shepherd”).62 Serving as the emperor’s envoy to the King
of Denmark on many occasions, the metropolitan bishop became a respected
authority, and although the king was pagan himself, he did not hamper evan-
gelization of the country. The achieved success gave rise to Anskar’s desire to
convert the Svear, where he arrived and managed to obtain the king’s agree-
ment for missionary activity for priests sent there with a bishop.
Two countries of the North, evangelized thanks to Anskar’s efforts, were to
experience numerous obstacles on their way to Christianity. However – as it
is stressed by Helmold – the undertaking, once begun, was never to be com-
pletely destroyed. With this thought, Helmold returns to Slavic affairs: “So,
among all the peoples of the northern nations the sole province of the Slavs
has remained harder than the others and dilatory at accepting the faith.”63
The connection of the topical toughness (duritia) of the Slavs with their resis-
tance to accept Christianity is not the first such case on the pages of medieval
historiography.64
doctorum laboribus in gentibus his desudatum est; tanta enim fuit opacitas errorum et
difficultas ydolatriae, ut nec subito, nec facile potuisset evinci”.
61 Forstner, Świat, p. 72. See also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 40 ff., 125 f., 325.
62 Helmold I, 5.
63 Helmold I, 6: “Inter omnes autem borealium nacionum populos sola Slavorum provincia
remansit ceteris durior atque ad credendum tardior.” Cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde,
pp. 216 f.; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 334.
64 Toughness and stubbornness of the Slavs is a topos in medieval historiography both
Byzantine and Latin, see e.g. Tyszkiewicz, Slavi genus, passim; cf. Fraesdorff, Der bar-
barische Norden, p. 334. Even Widukind and Thietmar referred this duritia to the tough-
ness of their lifestyle and laws, however, Cosmas I, 15 – who did not feel culturally strange
to the Slavic environment as itself – in the Liutici he can see durissima gens and their
duchess Drahomira is perceived by him as “ipsam saxis duriorem ad credendum”. Thus
this characteristic was identified with stubbornness to Christianity, cf. Tyszkiewicz,
“Slavi genus,” pp. 9 f. One may also remember here the opinion of bishop Paulinus of
Aquileia about Avars and Slavs expressed during the Convention on the Danube (796)
see: Conventus episcoporum ad ripam Danubii 796 aestate, ed. Karl Zeuner, MGH LL 3,
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 273
It is worth remembering that reliable sources do not indicate that the es-
tablishment of the Hamburg diocese was meant for the Christianization of the
Slavs. Helmold succumbs here to the falsified Bremen tradition.65 The inclu-
sion of the Polabian mission in the primary stream of Christianization of the
Northern peoples builds the prestige of these efforts. They encountered ex-
tremely strong opposition from the Slavs, and attention is drawn to the expla-
nation of their attitude especially in the case of the Rugians – most hardened
pagans in Helmold’s days.
Conc. 2/1 (1906), No. 20, pp. 172–176. A similar opinion was expressed earlier by Alcuin.
For Alcuin’s letter see Alcvini sive Albini Epistolae, ed. Ernest Dümmler, MGH Epp 4, Epp
Carolini Aevi 2 (1895), No. 111, p. 160. See also below, footnote 479 (about duritia of Rans).
65 See above, pp. 204 f.
66 For a discussion on the origin of the name Rügen and Rans see: Jürgen Udolph, “Rügen.
Namenkundliches,” in Reallexikon der Germanischen Altertumskunde, vol. 25 (Berlin/New
York: De Gruyter, 2003), pp. 417–421, and also e.g. Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej
Rugii,” pp. 249 ff.; Franciszek Grucza, “Rugia,” in SSS, vol. 4, p. 564 f.
67 Widukind III, 54. Cf. Babij, Wojskowość, p. 131.
68 E.g. Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,” pp. 252–254; Leciejewicz, Słowianie,
pp. 193, 217.
69 Jacek Soszyński, “Święty Wit a Świętowit Rugijski. Z dziejów legendy,” Przegląd
Humanistyczny 28 (1984) 9/10, p. 136, mentions four versions of the legend: 1) Saxo
Grammaticus’s (Saxo XIV, 39): invasion of Rügen by Charlemagne and imposition of
274 Chapter 4
tribute to St. Vitus – apostasy; 2) Helmold’s II, 108, see below, pp. 360 f.; 3) from the so
called Lothar’ donation: invasion of the island by Lothar – granting it to New Corvey;
4) the discussed here Helmold’s version I, 6. Possible knowledge of Helmold’s work by
Saxo Grammaticus may be of certain significance in the discussion on the history of the
legend, this view was supported by Inge Skovgaard-Petersen, “Wendenzüge – Kreuzzüge,”
in Rom und Byzanz im Norden. Mission und Glaubenswechsel im Ostseeraum während des
8.–14. Jahrhunderts, vol. 1, ed. Michael Müller-Wille (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1997), p. 285.
70 Helmold I, 6.
71 Famous for their bravery the inhabitants of this Baltic island became the object of the
chronicler’s attention for the first time in the second chapter of his work, where there is
information taken nearly completely from Adam of Bremen: “Rani, qui et Rugiani, gens
fortissima Slavorum, qui soli habent regem, extra quorum sententiam nichil agi de pub-
licis rebus fas est, adeo metuuntur propter familiaritatem deorum vel pocius demonum,
quos maiori pre ceteris cultura venerantur.” – Helmold I, 2. Cf. above, pp. 247 f.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 275
by the Christian side. The basis for claims by the abbey to extend its ownership
of the land to include the island was a document dated 844, which bore the
name of Emperor Lothar as its author. Scholarly criticism of this document,
whose original is not known, assumed that it was false. However, it is possible
to assume that the forgery was used to legalize claims which arose in some
other circumstances.
A result of the energetic activity of Corvey abbot Wibald, participating in
the crusade against the Slavs in 1147, was a confirmation of the alleged estab-
lishment of the right to the island in 844 by Pope Hadrian IV in 1155. It took
place at the time when the Legend of Corvey found its lasting place in contem-
porary awareness, which was confirmed by Helmold (it was also known to a
Danish chronicler Saxo Grammaticus who lived a few decades later). However,
Adam of Bremen, to whom the chronicler from Bosau owed a lot of knowledge
about the Slavs, does not mention it. Similarly, the legend is not mentioned by
Widukind of Corvey, who was the first one to mention the Rans in the whole of
medieval historiography.76
The Registrum Sarachonis, written by Saracho the Abbot of Corvey, is con-
sidered to be the oldest confirmation of the legend. Apart from the above
mentioned chronicles by Helmold and Saxo Grammaticus, the foundational
sources for the discussion on the legend are also the works created in the
Corvey monastery: Catalogus Abbatum et Fratrum Cobeiensium, Chronographus
Corbeiensis, the letter of Wibald the Abbot of New Corvey written to the bish-
op of Hildesheim Bernhard, Annales Corbeienses, and the above mentioned
false document on establishment of rights to the island by Emperor Lothar for
Corvey.77
The key note in Registrum Sarachonis is as follows: “The Slavs of the Rügen
island count as a [part of] the patrimony of St. Vitus, but because of the greed
and arrogance of our overseers they have abandoned faith.”78 Admittedly
Saracho died in 1071 and the note is third from last in the list with the number
747, which would allow the information to be dated to the time close to his
death. However, J. Osięgłowski states that the list was only started by the abbot
and it was later continued by his successors.79 He suggested that the genesis of
the legend was the series of events that took place in 1110–1114. In his opinion
the Corvey Benedictines participated in the invasion by Lothar of Supplinburg
76 See above footnote 69 in this chapter; cf. Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,”
pp. 252 f.
77 For a concise discussion on these sources see Soszyński, “Święty Wit,” pp. 133–135.
78 “Rugiacensis insulae Sclaui ad patrimonium sancti Viti spectant, sed ob auaritiam et inso-
lentiam uillicorum nostrorum a fide defecerunt.”
79 Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,” p. 260.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 277
against Rügen and “they found out more about the island and realised what
benefits would be brought by its ownership. Knowing the language of the Slavs
and a comparison of the main deity of the Rügen inhabitants – Svantevit with
the name of the saint patron of the Corvey monastery – St. Vitus, made them
think of creating a legend, which (…) was very well accepted.”80
The note from Annales Corbeienses (dated 1114 and recorded before 1117),
which informs about the invasion, mentions the dependence of the Rans on
the St. Vitus monastery. The moment, hypothetically indicated by Osięgłowski,
of the creation of the legend thus seems to be quite probable. However, it is
worth trying to move the beginnings of the legend to an earlier period.81 It is
supported by the fact that after the fall of Rethra, Arkona replaced it as the
main centre of Slavs’ paganism according to their German neighbours, and
as a consequence, Svantevit worshipped in the famous temple could become
famous enough to be known even in New Corvey. Helmold confirms such a
possibility: “Also there the oracles are beseeched, and the annual payments are
presented as offerings from all the provinces of the Slavs. However, the mer-
chants, who would venture by chance to those places, are not allowed to sell
or buy until they first offer something precious from their wares to their [i.e.
Rugians] god, and only then the commodities are presented at the market.”82
According to this passage, the Rügen deity gained the highest popularity
among remaining pagan Slavs. Apart from this, information about it could be
spread by merchants who suffered because of payments related to the temple
cult once they decided to trade in Arkona, or also by prisoners of war return-
ing from the captivity of Slavic pirates. J. Soszyński made a hypothesis that the
authors of the legend were New Corvey monks but that they created the legend
long before Lothar’s invasion in 1114, during which the legend was of practical
use for the first time. Recalling the matter of tribute to Svantevit during the
capitulation negotiations with the Circipanes, according to this hypothesis, it
was to be used by some monk to teach others that the god of Arkona was in fact
St. Vitus. Hence the price of peace was again undertaking financial obligations
in relation to the patron of New Corvey.
The association of Svantevit with St. Vitus created by a monk in the Corvey
scriptorium, in J. Soszyński’s hypothesis, is supported by poor knowledge of the
80 Ibidem, p. 260 f.
81 Soszyński, “Święty Wit,” p. 137, polemised with J. Osięgłowski’s thesis, he claimed that
knowledge of Rügen in Germany even before the beginning of the 12th c. was not scarce.
82 Helmold I, 6: “De omnibus quoque provinciis Slavorum illic responsa petuntur et sacrifi-
ciorum exhibentur annuae soluciones. Sed nec mercatoribus, qui forte ad illas sedes ap-
pulerint, patet ulla facultas vendendi vel emendi, nisi prius de mercibus suis deo ipsorum
preciosa quaeque libaverint, et tunc demum mercimonia foro publicantur.”
278 Chapter 4
Slavic language of the person who, translating the first part of the deity’s name
(‘svant-’ into sanctus), could not translate the other one, i.e. ‘-vit’, which given
the medieval tendency for ethymologization resulted in the legendary identifi-
cation.83 Its genesis would remain in close relation with the supra-tribal fame
of the Arkona deity, and emphasized by Helmold, its exceptional position is
shown in the theocratic character of the Rügen statehood: “they revere their
priest not less than a king.”84
A summary of the first report on idolatry of the Rans was a renewed theo-
logical qualification of their cult: “So since the time when they first renounced
the faith, such superstition has persevered among the Rans up to this day.”85
However, it is worth emphasizing a special character of the interpretation of
the Slavic god (his name) in the legend. Namely, at the time when identifica-
tion of deities with demons from a biblical perspective was rather common,
to such an extent that this thinking procedure was considered the essence of
interpretatio Christiana, in this case a sainted person was identified with a god.
Thus, the Rügen inhabitants, who according to Helmold, and repeating Adam’s
opinion, were known for their intimacy with their gods or one should say de-
mons, in this case surprise us with their cult for a Christian saint.86
In research on Christian interpretation of Slavic religion, it is a clear indica-
tion to perceive this issue as a complex one. This unbecoming cult of St. Vitus
becomes idolatry which in the theological perspective was the sphere of activ-
ity of demonic powers. However, an error in the doctrine was the wrongdo-
ing (superstitio) of the Rans, who remained unaware of its consequences; they
were misled by Satan (for Christians – aware of the consequences of idolatry –
the matter is clear). Thus, it is postulated to establish two levels in the
reflection of chroniclers-theologians in their approach to the Christian inter-
pretation: 1) an error in cult and doctrine (the case of St. Vitus) and 2) spiritual
consequences – openness to antisacrum (demons).
The presence of these two dimensions in the view of Svantevit’s cult casts
light on gift offerings made to him by the Danish king Sven (1146–1157). Did
he perhaps make offerings to demons? It is possible to assume that he was
aware of the fact that he worshipped St. Vitus87 with his offerings, who was un-
becomingly worshipped by the Slavs (according to the legend ex-Christians).88
Superstitio does not only mean superstition in its contemporary definition – it
is a wider notion, which is generally connected with trespassing against faith
and cult.89
However, explanation of the genesis of the Legend of Corvey does not com-
plete the debate over the very name of the Rügen god. Questioning the au-
thenticity of events included in this story leaves unanswered questions about
the coincidental similarity between the names of the patron of Corvey monks
and the Slavic deity. The explanation of the circumstances presented above, in
which the legend was born, follows the idea that the legend was circulated to
justify the monastery’s pretences to ownership of the island. The very rumour
could have existed in this or some other form earlier, and it was popularized
in a version of such a legend at the moment when occupation of the island by
Christians became inevitable.
The origin of Svantevit’s name from St. Vitus still had its supporters among
scholars in the 19th c.90 This line of argument became more probable thanks
to cases which were known from medieval Rus’, where St. Nicolaus and
St. Balazs were deified in a pre-Christian way.91 This fostered acceptance of
the whole Legend of Corvey. However, scholarly criticism finally put an end to
this view. In this situation the last part of the story to be defended is its basic
motif, namely the connection between the Slavic theonym and the name of a
Christian saint. The most detailed statement on this matter was provided by
H. Łowmiański who, while agreeing with the fictitious character of the Legend
87 Saxo XIV, 39, 8; Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,” p. 276. However, Saxo
Grammaticus, who knew the Legend of Corvey, was certain that the king committed a
religious wrongdoing, which supports the view that the Danish court and church envi-
ronment did not know the tradition about the motivation related to the cult of St. Vitus
behind gifts for Arkona, see Saxo XIV, 39, 9: “Suantovitus (id simulacro vocabulum erat)”.
88 Annales Corbeienses, ed. Georg Heinrich Pertz, MGH SS 3 (1839), under the year 1114,
p. 8 – Lothar managed to make the terrified Circipanes confess that they used to pay
rent to St. Vitus of Corvey. Certainly this must have been Svantevit, who functioned in
Christians’ minds as St. Vitus; see Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 191 f.
89 See above, pp. 193 f.
90 Franz Miklosich, Etymologisches Wörterbuch der slavischen Sprachen (Vienna: Braumüller,
1886), p. 393. Cf. Moszyński, Prasłowiański panteon, p. 171.
91 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 41. Cf. Wincenty Swoboda, “Kult świętych (2)”, in SSS,
vol. 8, pp. 383 f.
280 Chapter 4
92 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 190–195. The concept was accepted by Moszyński, Die vorchrist-
liche Religion, pp. 61–63, emphasizing additionally that among the Polabian and
Pomeranian Slavs in the final phase of their native religion, anthroponyms ending with
“-vit” disappear because the ending was reserved for divine names.
93 The second example of reception of sacrum from the Christian world was – as is empha-
sized by Łowmiański – the devil who became the “black god”. See below, pp. 312 ff.
94 Revival of the idea of Christian genesis of Svantevit was criticised by Witold Hensel, “Jak
wyglądał posąg arkońskiego Svantevita,” Z otchłani wieków 39 (1983), p. 124. On the basis of
research on polycephalism of Pomeranian idols, H. Łowmiański’s ideas were considered
insufficiently justified by Rosik, Udział, p. 74. See also Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,”
p. 107.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 281
only the first part of the name of the Rans’ deity seems unnecessary.95 Yet it is
highly probable that the translation, which was the basis for the identification,
was from Latin in which case translating only the first part (sanctus) is fully
justified while the name of the saint remained nearly unchanged. Given the
contemporary tendency of intellectuals to ethymologize96 such concurrence
was sufficient to identify a character from the Slavic beliefs with a Christian
saint by way of “euhemerization.”97
A solution of the riddle of the cult and the name of Svantevit in relation
to his possible non-Slavic roots was sought after by J. Rosen-Przeworska and
W. Szafrański, for whom this god was exactly called “Svantevit” (this version of
his name is emphasized) and initially was an eponym of the name of the Celtic
tribe Svanets, who in the course of their migration were to reach the Oder estu-
ary and Rügen. The name of the Rügen god was to be reminiscent of their stay.
Also, the polycephalic way in which Svantevit was presented was known to
the Celts and later was to be borrowed from them by the Slavs.98 However, the
Slavic origin of the Rügen god’s name gains more substantiation. The discussed
meaning of the root “-vit” became the ending of numerous Slavic names (e.g.
Siemovit).
Slavists’ etymological research was conducted in a few directions. Linguists
decisively rejected the proposal that two Slavic words: “world” – e.g. Polish
“świat” and “see” – e.g. Polish “widzieć” were heard in the name of the Rans’
god.99 According to a popularized opinion, the first part of his name was the
95 Soszyński, “Święty Wit,” p. 137. A good example of such a mistake in translation was an
explanation of White Mountain given by Thietmar as Mons Pulcher (see above, p. 151,
footnote 493).
96 E.g. Tadeusz Manteuffel, Kultura Europy średniowiecznej (Warszawa: Wiedza Powszechna,
1974), pp. 324 ff. See e.g. the etymology of the name of Slavic temple “contina”, derived by
Herbord (II, 31) from Latin “continere”, or earlier attempts made by Thietmar (see above
p. 151).
97 For “euhemerization” in medieval historiography of the religion of the Slavs see above,
pp. 12 f., 31.
98 Szafrański, Prahistoria, pp. 414 f.
99 The four-faced idol would actually, symbolically “see” the whole of the world, namely its
four sides. Hence the name “śviatovit” or “sviatovid” – derived from “sviat-” (world) and
“-vid” (connected semantically to “see”) – was reserved for characteristic archaeological
findings (see e.g. S. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 41), whose best representative was a
quadrangular ideographic column with four faces – the so called “Sviatovid” from the
Zbruch River; see: Gabriel Leńczyk, “Światowid zbruczański,” Materiały Archeologiczne
5 (1964), pp. 5–60; Wojciech Szymański, “Posąg ze Zbrucza i jego otoczenie. Lata badań,
lata wątpliwości,” Przegląd Archeologiczny 44 (1996), pp. 75–116 (see also under, p. 365);
another finding is a miniature figure from the 9th c. found in Wolin – see Filipowiak,
Wojtasik, “Światowit z Wolina,” pp. 82–88.
282 Chapter 4
root svęt-,100 the same as in the adjective “saint” in the Slavic language (e.g.
Polish: “święty”). It initially meant more or less the same as “strong” and its
contemporary meaning appeared later. Following this way of thinking, one
will find A. Gieysztor’s explication of svęt revealing a term used to describe a
god with “beneficial magic power.” Moreover, thanks to the analogy to the Old
Iranian spenta and Lithuanian sventas, one may conclude that svęt was a car-
rier of information about the remorseless fertility power, able to create life and
natural phenomena.101
There was also another idea by which to derive the name of the god of
Arkona from the word ‘saint,’ (e.g. Polish: “święty”) in this case similar to ‘sick’–
‘sickly,’ which would make the theonym sound like ‘świętowity’ (in Old Polish
somebody characterized by sainthood).102 Linguists however, are more in-
clined to treat the ending ‘-vit’ as a root of at least a few possible meanings.
Apart from the Indo-European ‘vid-’ (‘see, know’) there was an idea to drive
‘-vit’ from ‘witać’ (welcome).103
G. Vernardsky, on the other hand, defended the idea questioned by
Brückner,104 in order to identify in “Svantevit” words like ‘święty wiatr’ (holy
wind) – from Ukrainian ‘viter,’ Russian ‘veter,’ and Old Iranian ‘vat’ (wind). He
found in this god a counterpart of Stribog (ruling the atmosphere) and indi-
cated that the four heads are symbols of cardinal winds and seasons of the
year. Thus, Svantevit would be “Holy Wind” – i.e. the “Holy Ghost”, which is
supported by information that a priest entering the Arkona temple had to hold
his breath for the time of the service.105
100 On Rügen the Slavic adjective “saint”, e.g. Polish ‘święty’ was pronounced with a nasal “a”
which led to using the name Svantevit in chronicles – Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 41.
101 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 117. Bednarczuk, “W co wierzyli Prasłowianie?,” p. 28, mentions
that – contrary to the consolidated opinion – the adjective “święty” (saint) does not have
to be an Old Iranian borrowing of the original “shine”, “glitter”, but it may turn out to be a
native Slavic word, because in the Baltic region there is also a group of words whose stem
refers to “svent-”, connected to the activity of celebrating.
102 Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 398.
103 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 193.
104 Almost a century ago Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 44 f., rejected the propos-
al of explaining the word Svantevit as fortis laetusque, validus victor, or blowing strongly –
“theomorphosis” of clear and clean air, just like Germanic Wodan or Old Indic Vata/
Vaju. In Brückner’s view Svantevit belongs to a group of names with the ‘-vit’ ending, like
Siemovit, etc.; it is “as if a personal name” and this is why it cannot denote a god of all
Slavs, it could only be a local one, worshipped mainly on the Wittow Peninsula (hence
its name).
105 Georg Vernardski, The origins of Russia (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1959), pp. 122 f.
The information about priests holding their breath when entering the temple in Arkona
comes from Saxo XIV, 39, 4.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 283
The largest number of supporters are in favour of the root ‘-vit’ derived from
Old Slavic ‘vit’,’ which would mean that the word denotes a ‘master’ or ‘ruler.’
Additionally, this root can still be heard in today’s Polish ‘witać’ (welcome)
meaning ‘invite.’106 The collation of ‘*vitjaz’’ – ‘wiciądz,’ ‘wojownik,’ does not
inspire much respect due to a borrowing from German,107 although it would
correspond with the militant character of deities of the Rans or Pomeranians.
Most certainly one should see in Svantevit a “strong ruler and lord,” which is
in accordance with the position attributed to him in the world of Slavic beliefs.
This name belongs to the younger generation of theonyms and could have be-
come more popular at the time of confrontation with Christianity, concealing
the older ones (e.g. Svarožic). These gods’ names (such as e.g. Iarovit) are clear,
contrary to older names. Their character is functional: Svantevit must play the
role of the ‘strong ruler’ and maybe he was given this name for a reason, not to
disclose the protected taboo of the highest deity’s name.108
Apart from this, the term was an ideological reply of the Rans – their theol-
ogy likely developed in Arkona – to the faith in God preached by missionar-
ies and presented as the only one, the highest and almighty God. It should be
noted that the almightiness of God, which was the key characteristic of God
for his believers in the Middle Ages, would sometimes even remove the idea
of personal relationship to God.109 The idea of power (almightiness) could es-
pecially affect the Rügen inhabitants, as they did not hesitate to include it in
the name of the highest god and lord (‘Vit’) of the island. Today, the adjective
“saint” in Christianity refers especially to moral perfection. However, the ety-
mology of its Slavic counterpart, e.g. Polish “święty” (different also from an-
cient Hebrew kadosh, Greek hagios or Latin sanctus), leads to the conviction
that among the Slavs it was primarily used to refer to God at the time when
God’s almightiness was perceived as his most important characteristic. This
coining Svantevit’s name – as a hypothesis of course – could indicate an at-
tempt of ideological Slavic response to the idea of an almighty, divine creature
brought by Christian monotheism.110
106 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 41, 193; Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,” p. 106.
107 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 117.
108 The information that the Slavs used a taboo is confirmed by an analogy with the Polish
word ‘niedźwiedź’ (bear) as “honey eater”. It concealed the original name of this wor-
shipped animal, whose counterpart is a stem known from Greek ‘*arktos’. This view was
expressed by Antoine Meillet (1924), it was accepted by linguists; see e.g. S. Urbańczyk,
Dawni Słowianie, p. 32; Popowska-Taborska, Wczesne dzieje, p. 114.
109 Wacław Hryniewicz, “Bóg cierpiący? Rozważania nad chrześcijańskim pojęciem Boga,”
Collectanea Theologica 51 (1981) 2, p. 9; cf. Rosik, Udział, p. 102.
110 Rosik, Udział, pp. 100–102.
284 Chapter 4
One should also take into account the possibility that all polycephalic
idols – as it is indicated by the organization of the sacral space related to them –
may be hypostases of the same highest deity for the Rügen inhabitants, whose
concept could have arisen under the influence of contacts with Christianity.111
The root ‘-vit’ (lord) was to be an identifying sign of the highest Slavic deity. The
diversity of names given to his particular personifications would then signify
a particular functional aspect of his cult. The significance of matter – contrary
to Brückner’s opinion112 – would go beyond the Rans’ island: in Havelberg the
worshipped deity was Iarovit,113 whose name in terms of its meaning matches
Svantevit, because the root ‘jar-’ and ‘svet-’ belong to the same community of
meaning for ‘strong,’ which allows both deities to be identified at the level of
their function.114 Particular tribes could have been attached to the specific per-
sonification of the highest deity, which became a tutelary deity for their tribe
or territory.
During the discussion about Svantevit and the belief system in the final
phase of Slavic religion, the truthfulness of the so-called Legend of Corvey
was buried completely.115 The very identification of St. Vitus with Svantevit in
Helmold’s work is euhemerism led in the Christian spirit and evaluated as a
realization of a topical principle on setting creation over the Creator by the
pagans. This leads to the whole array of theological qualifications. The legend
also explains that among Rans there was an exceptional bond with a deity –
they are apostates: they not so much do not know God (like the Prussians), but
they despise this cognition.116
The conversion of the Slavs was hampered by special characteristics attrib-
uted to them, like the already-mentioned aversion to Christians. In the next
two chapters Helmold emphasizes obstacles such as wars, rebellions, and the
invasions of the Danes and Magyars. These phenomena were a nuisance in the
whole of post-Carolingian Europe, and appropriate rulers came to the rescue
in this situation. The parish priest from Bosau sometimes completes the data
taken from Adam of Bremen with his own information, compiled in such a
way that it would be possible to obtain the dynamics of low and high tides
of Christianization. A striking element in this description is a combination of
the barbarism of the destroyers of Europe with hatred for Christianity (assas-
sinations of clergymen, devastations of churches and monasteries, jeering at
Christian symbols, etc.).117
A description of the achievements of King Henry I and next Archbishop
Unni predict some improvement of these circumstances. Characteristic of
Helmold, there is a concept of success of a mission as a result of cooperation
between the political and church authorities. The Magyars, defeated by Henry
(among others in 933) and the Slavs (in the battle of Lenzen 929), promised
a tribute to the king and “baptism to God.”118 Similarly, after Henry’s invasion
of Denmark ruled by the cruel Gorm, the situation changed there and this
prompted Unni to undertake missionary actions in Scandinavia. In the quota-
tion taken from Adam of Bremen’s work119 there is an overtone from the Acts
of the Apostles120 on “opening a door of faith” for pagans, which is an example
of historiological interpretation, similar to notes on managing the war by the
heavens or success achieved thanks to God’s mercy.121
in the presentation of the genesis of the Slavic rebellion in the times of the
Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen Libentius.123
Although in this whole part of the text there are no direct references to the
Slavic religion, it is worth drawing attention to supplements added by Helmold
to information taken from the Gesta hammaburgensis aecclesiae pontificum. In
these supplements one can observe specifics of the interpretation of the his-
tory of the Slavs, which is key in the assessment of their paganism within the
text. The first of these supplements refers to the beginning of Otto the Great’s
rule, or more precisely information about the rebellion of the Danes against
this ruler, which was developed by Helmold who added laconic information
about a simultaneous rebellion of the Slavs (most certainly between 936–950).124
Next, after the information about Otto I’s success in fights with the Slavs
(tribute and accepting Christianity), Helmold added information about the
circumstances of establishing the Hermann Billung March, which cannot be
found in Adam’s work.125 The creation of the march was necessary so as to
ensure durability of the then relations between the Germans, Danes and Slavs
given the emperor’s visit to Italy.126 After the presentation of the Italian mat-
ters, Helmold added confirmation of Otto I’s ardour in conversion of pagans
and especially Slavs, not mentioned by Adam of Bremen.127 To sum up, these
additions presented the emperor as a patron of the Slavic mission, ensuring
the right political background for its success.
Next in the writer’s focus appear the beginnings of the Starigard diocese
and its bishops, including especially the first of them, Marko, who “bathed the
peoples of the Wagrians or Obodrites in the sacred spring of baptism.”128 In
this way, the pages of Helmold’s work presents the culmination of the next
wave of the Christianization of the Slavs in the framework of the organiza-
tional scheme of the entire narrative of the chronicle, underlying the general
message that secular authorities establish new political relations which enable
Christianization.
A metaphorical name given to this process, i.e. baptism of particular
peoples, the Wagrians and Obodrites, expresses a view from an institutional
perspective at the level of the entirety of societies, thus including whole tribes
in the Church, without regard for the progress of individual conversion. This
historiological model of interpretation of the propagation of Christianity
could have been found by Helmold in Adam of Bremen’s work, but one should
remember that it was also known by Thietmar.129 In this case one should take
into consideration that the chronicler from Bosau refers to the views which
had existed in the circles of German clergy for generations.
Assessment of the attitude of the Slavs at this stage of their Christianization
is rather favourable in the pages of Helmold’s chronicle. Bishops maintained
good relations with the tribal elders, receiving from them means used for the
development of the diocese and gaining favour in the eyes of the people.130
However, some evil characteristics of the Slavs were to appear already in the
tenure of Wago, the successor of the first bishop of Starigard. Helmold, when
commenting on the deceit131 attributed to the Obodrite leader called Billug
(who was most likely a fictitious character)132 and planned against the Church
in Starigard, claimed that one should beware of the Slavs because “the souls of
the Slavs are naturally unfaithful and prone to evil.”133 Only fear of the Saxons
was to stop Billug from an open rebellion and rejection of Christianity.
Helmold emphasized that the Slavs started to oppose openly “not only the
laws of God but also the imperial orders,” at the time when Otto II and Otto III
were shaping their Italian policy. Then the remaining power over them was
to be held by the Saxon duke Benno, although with difficulty.134 Regardless of
these gradually deteriorating circumstances of the propagation of Christianity,
Helmold had no doubt that in the times of the first four bishops of Starigard
“the Slavs remained faithful,”135 and the network of churches and monaster-
ies was to encompass a decisive majority of the Sclavania (Slavdom).136 The
chronicler openly referred to the testimony of Adam of Bremen, from whom
he also borrowed the information about the pagan reaction in Denmark, and
supplemented it with a report on simultaneous Slavic rebellion.
Helmold commented on all these events in a moralizing manner: they took
place “by the scourge of God due to human sins.”137 In the description of Danish
events, the chronicler refers to a well-known motif from Adam’s work related
to the famous city of Iumne, however he treated it as Vineta (Iumneta), which
was non-existent in his times. King Harald, defeated by his son, was critically
wounded and found shelter in this famous city where, let us not forget, he was
accepted “against hope – as they were Barbarians – in a humane way.”138 So ac-
cording to the chronicler one did not expect anything good in the “barbarians”.
The deceased exile received a halo of a martyr worth a royal position also in
heaven.139
The rule of the victorious Sven was characterized by Helmold’s rhetorical
zeal with the association to the passage from 1 Maccabees: “Consurrexerunt
omnes iniqui in finibus aquilonis,” and so “the all lawless [people] emerged in
the boundaries of the North,” rejoicing at an opportunity to vent to their anger
through wars and disorder.140 The allusion to this biblical phrase could have
been intended to evoke an association between this situation and the biblical
scenery of the invasion of Israel, which in a symbolic interpretation turned
the North into a demonic land of powers hostile to the Kingdom of God. The
northern wind carrying frost and numbness meant evil forces.141 The appear-
ance of information about wars and riots in this context is in accordance with
Helmold’s view that wars and other misfortunes are the works of demons.142
The rebellion of the northern Polabian Slavs against the empire and the
consequential fall of Christianity among these tribes, described later in this
Christianity. Helmold repeats the same information. For the reach of the “Slavdom” in this
context see pp. 297, 306, 363, 383 f.
137 Helmold I, 15: “permittente Deo propter peccata hominum”.
138 Ibidem: “preter spem, quia barbari erant, humane”. It is worth emphasizing that in this
place one deals with a borrowing from Gesta by Adam of Bremen (see above p. 234), how-
ever, Helmold replaced pagani with barbari. Although in Helmold’s times both words
were synonyms, the tone of the word barbari indicates not only being pagan, but also civi-
lizational inferiority and – as it emerges from the context – the expected rigorous mental-
ity or cruelty. This could be possibly a moralising statement referring to the Saxons: even
barbarians turn out to be humane towards enemies.
139 Ibidem. See above p. 243 (about king-martyrs).
140 Helmold I, 15; cf. 1 Macc 9:23: “post obitum Judae emerserunt iniqui in omnibus finibus
Israel, et exorti sunt omnes qui operabantur iniquitatem”. See a commentary in: Helmolda
Kronika, p. 130, footenote 209.
141 See above, p. 272 and also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 163.
142 Helmold I, 55.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 289
143 Helmold I, 16: “Rudes enim adhuc in fide gentilium populos, quos optimi quondam
principes cum magna lenitate foverant, temperantes rigorem his quorum propensius
insistebant saluti, isti tanta crudelitate insectati sunt, ut excusso tandem servitutis iugo
libertatem suam armis defendere cogerentur”. In this place it is worth emphasizing a par-
ticular way of perceiving converted people, they were treated as “pagan”, yet at the same
time “raw in their faith” – “Rudes enim adhuc in fide gentilium populos …”; for more in-
formation see pp. 76 ff.
144 See Labuda, “Mściwój,” p. 325, and above, pp. 86 f.
145 Helmold I, 16: “Sermo igitur est et veterum narracione vulgatum”; cf. Pleszczyński, Niemcy,
p. 37; cf. idem, The Birth of a Stereotype, pp. 35 f.
146 See Lech A. Tyszkiewicz, Słowianie w historiografii wczesnego średniowiecza od połowy
VI do połowy VII wieku, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis. Historia) 63 (Wrocław:
Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 1991), pp. 142–146, and also below, pp. 291 f.
290 Chapter 4
already deemed as dogs, not as humans. In such case, if the dog is strong, it will
leave many bites.”147
According to Helmold, the Saxon duke managed to change his opinion and
made efforts to reconcile with Mstivoy, but he was not successful in prevent-
ing a war.148 The Obodrite duke set out to the Liutici Rethra, where he con-
vened “all Slavs” living in “the East” and told them about the injustice which
happened to him, emphasizing that for the Saxons, Slavs are like dogs.149 The
reply of his audience was composed with reference to the biblical text,150 and
it proves that the chronicler can even put words of reproach for the Saxons in
the mouth of the Slavs: “Justly you are suffering – they say – for while rejecting
your fellows you honoured the Saxons, a treacherous and greedy people. For
this reason, swear to us that you would forsake them, and [only then] we will
stand by you.”’151 Due to the pragmatic aspect of the discussed message, one
should take into account its literary genesis referring not only to the statement
attributed to rallying Slavs, but also other details.
Even the very indication that Rethra was the place where Mstivoy looked
for help against the Saxons could be only the chronicler’s (or his informer’s)
speculation, based on the conviction that this was the exact place of the “capi-
tal of idolatry” already mentioned by Adam of Bremen. It seems even less cer-
tain that “all Slavs” living in “the East” were convened to the meeting place.152
If one is to trust this information at all, it seems more appropriate to believe
that there was a council of the Liutici elders in Rethra.153 Lastly, even the pres-
sure exercized on Mstivoy to take an oath to reject the Saxons, not only due
to literary convention but also because of a general view, may be of “inkpot”
genesis, shared also by Helmold, according to which for the Slavs oaths were
particularly important.154
147 Helmold I, 16: “Oportet quidem generosam magni principis neptem prestantissimo viro
copulari, non vero cani dari. Magna gratia nobis pro servicio refertur, ut iam canes, non
homines iudicemur. Si igitur canis valens fuerit, magnos morsus dabit.”
148 The motif of personal offence so strongly emphasized by Helmold raises numerous
doubts as explanation for the direct reason for the rebellion, see e.g. Labuda, Powstania
Słowian, pp. 171 f.
149 Helmold I, 16: “Saxonum voce Slavi canes vocentur”.
150 Gen 42:21.
151 Helmold I, 16: “Merito haec” inqiunt “pateris, qui spernens contribules tuos excoluisti
Saxones, gentem perfidam et avaram. Iura igitur nobis, quod deseras eos, et stabimus
tecum”.
152 For information on how the notion of Slavdom functioned as a whole in Helmold’s work
see pp. 266, 363, 368.
153 Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” pp. 125 f.
154 See below, p. 337.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 291
155 Referring to the authority of the “elders” by Helmold indicates that they were treated as a
kind of institution in the social life of Barbarians, they were to be the guardians of remem-
brance and law (cf. Stanisław Rosik, “Dokąd sięgają pamięcią słowiańscy starcy z Kroniki
Helmolda?,” in Starość – wiek spełnienia, ed. Wojciech Dzieduszycki, Jacek Wrzesiński,
(Funeralia Lednickie, Spotkanie) 8 (Poznań: Stowarzyszenie Naukowe Archeologów
Polskich, 2006), pp. 233–236. A wider context of the discussion about the role of the
“elders” (homines antiquissimi) in barbarian communities is discussed by Modzelewski,
Barbarzyńska Europa, pp. 60 f. It is worth mentioning here that there was also an alterna-
tive view on the matter of the elders’ knowledge which appeared in historiography in
11th–12th c, it treated their stories as not worthy of any credit (cf. e.g. Gallus Anonymous
underlined “oblivion of old age” – oblivio vetustatis, when regarding to fabulous plots of
Polish origins, see Galli Anonymi cronicae et gesta ducum sive principum Polonorum, ed.
Karol Maleczyński, MPH n.s. 2 (1952), I, 3; cf. Przemysław Wiszewski, Domus Bolezlai.
W poszukiwaniu tradycji dynastycznej Piastów (do około 1138 roku) (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo
Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2008), pp. 162 f.).
156 C hronicarum quae dicuntur Fredegarii scholastici libri IV cum continationibus, ed. Bruno
Krusch, MGH SSrerMerov 2 (1888), IV, 68, p. 154. In this episode Samo’s reaction to call-
ing Slavs – as pagans – dogs by a Frankish messenger, was to claim that they were “God’s
dogs” (canes Dei), which will bite unfaithful God’s servants (Franks) to punish them. Cf.
Tyszkiewicz, Słowianie w historiografii wczesnego średniowiecza, pp. 138 ff.; Goetz, Die
Wahrnehmung, p. 164 f.
157 Padberg, “Christen,” p. 296; idem, Die Christianisierung, p. 181.
292 Chapter 4
dog as a very faithful animal;158 the genesis of this stereotype attributing very
positive values to this animal can be found already in the culture of prehistoric
societies.159
It is worth mentioning that from the perspective of reflection on Helmold’s
mentality, this ambivalence in the use of canine symbolism can be observed
even in the Bible.160 However, the story about Mstivoy is closer to the previous-
ly mentioned episode from the chronicle of the so-called Fredegar because of a
158 See footnote 156 and 160 in this chapter. By analogy one returns here to the earlier dis-
cussed (see p. 60) motif of a “dumb dog” used by Thietmar with its biblical and patristic
references, which emphasizes treating dogs as a model of faithfulness and “sheepfold’s”
guardian. Moreover in Thietmar’s chronicle a dog is presented as its master’s avenger, it
tears off the killer’s arm (Thietmar I, 27). In this context it is worth referring to a custom-
ary penalty applied in Helmold’s times in Germany to offenders and especially unfaithful
rebels which was public humiliation involving the carrying of a dog on their back as a sign
of revilement (see Jacob Grimm, Deutsche Rechtsaltertümer (Göttingen: Dietrich, 1855),
pp. 715–718; cf. Tyszkiewicz, Słowianie w historiografii wczesnego średniowiecza, p. 143).
However this form of ridiculing a convict seems to indicate that the evaluation of the dog
was generally low.
159 In mythologies and rites of prehistoric and ancient societies the dog had a positive
role, which is shown e.g. in burial ceremonies interpreted, among others, as founda-
tion offerings (see e.g.: Małgorzata Andrałojć, “Rola psa w obrzędowości pradziejowych
ludów Europy Środkowej,” in Wierzenia przedchrześcijańskie na ziemiach polskich, ed.
Marian Kwapiński, Henryk Paner (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Muzeum Archeologicznego w
Gdańsku, 1993), pp. 98–109; Tadeusz Makiewicz, “Odkrycia tzw. grobów psów w Polsce
i ich sakralne znaczenie,” in Wierzenia przedchrześcijańskie na ziemiach polskich, ed.
Marian Kwapiński, Henryk Paner (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Muzeum Archeologicznego w
Gdańsku, 1993) pp. 110–117.
160 This is very well depicted in the biblical scene of Jesus meeting the Canaanite Woman,
a pagan, who pleaded to cure her daughter in whom there was an evil spirit. The initial
rebuff of help was a pretext to compare pagans to “dogs” (see Mc 7:27; Mt 15:26), which
in turn was used to develop another image of pagans as “dogs” (pups) which eat scraps
dropped by children (see Mk 7:28; Mt 15:27). The attitude of the Syrophoenician woman
was praised by Jesus as showing extremely strong faith and it was rewarded by grant-
ing her request. The whole pericope shows the New Testament idea of evangelisation of
not only the circle of Judaism but also pagans. This positive element, associated with the
topic of the dog (see e.g. Mariusz Rosik, “Motyw κυναρια w dialogu Jezusa z Kananejką –
Syrofenicjanką (Mk 7, 24–30; Mt 15, 21–28). W kręgu biblijnej topiki psa,” in Viae historicae.
Księga jubileuszowa dedykowana Profesorowi Lechowi A. Tyszkiewiczowi w siedemdziesiątą
rocznicę urodzin, ed. Mateusz Goliński, Stanisław Rosik, (Acta Universitatis Wratislaviensis.
Historia) 152 (Wrocław: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Wrocławskiego, 2001), pp. 429–434,
was a factor supporting the creation of a positive attitude to the mission among pagans as
a result of weakening this major negative power of the stereotype of canes; for such nega-
tive symbolism of the dog in this tradition of Christianity and the culture of the Middle
Ages see e.g. Forstner, Świat, p. 293 (here there is also a reference to Rev 22:15); Le Goff,
Kultura, pp. 122, 332.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 293
motif shared by both stories, namely the negative consequences for Christians
resulting from showing contempt for the Slavs by making them the equal of
dogs. Moreover, referring to this particular way of expressing contempt in
Helmold’s narrative escalates the Christians’ guilt by means of contrast: the
Saxons’ unfaithfulness, which contradicts the positive connotations of the
canes topos, becomes even more obvious on one hand, and on the other hand
their greed, which is also topically considered characteristic of dogs, becomes
even more glaring.161
Hence, one can conclude that the Saxon characters in the Helmold’s chron-
icle are not better than Slavs, however it should be emphasized that the latter
do not receive a better assessment because of this. According to the chroni-
cler, as it has already been mentioned, they are “faithless and characterized by
propensity to evil by nature” and are especially rebellious. So, their “persisting
in faith” was possible only under external pressure of a supervisory authority.
The stigmatization, therefore, of the custom of referring to the Slavs as dogs
arises from promoting the idea of mission among pagans in the chronicle, and
the message in this particular episode is the reminder to not waste the first
fruit of the mission by the improper attitude of Christian rulers representing
the empire.
The very context of occurrence of the word canes in Adam of Bremen’s
chronicle, and later also in Helmold’s work, makes one aware of the fact that it
indicates not only affiliation with the pagan circle, but also, or even more, af-
filiation with the ethnic and cultural community, because it was used to refer
even to Christened Slavs. This situation shows evolution of the meaning of this
topos, which lost its original religious connotations and was used to show hos-
tility and contempt for a “stranger,” a barbarian. Thus, even the inclusion of the
Polabian tribes in the Christian circle or baptism of their representatives did
not mean that this stereotypical assessment of the Slavs would become obso-
lete among the Saxons.
Topoi of this type conditioned also the attitude of Christian neighbours to
the spiritual pre-Christian culture of Slavdom. This is why efforts to eliminate
them from social circulation, undertaken by Helmold, was an essential element
in attainment of pragmatic goals in his literary work. Fighting against this type
of prejudice about the Slavs supported promotion of the idea of their conver-
sion, which was the main reason for the existence of the diocese of Starigard.162
161 It is not accidental that Thietmar (III, 17; IV, 25) used the name avari canes when referring
to Danish or Slavic aggressors and looters.
162 See before, pp. 260 ff.
294 Chapter 4
163 One should remember that according to H. Stoob (see above, footnote 25 in this chapter),
it encompassed chapters 17–33. However, it should be stressed that chapters 27–33 do
not refer to the history of the Slavs and they are connected with German, church and
European issues.
164 For information on Gottschalk see above pp. 252 ff.
165 Helmold I, 19.
166 Helmold I, 47.
167 Helmold I, 19.
168 Ibidem.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 295
The message of the next story from the Chronicle of the Slavs is a reproach
to the Saxons who neglected the evangelization of pagans because of their
greed. Helmold quotes (after Adam of Bremen) information about a civil
war between members of the Liutici Federation (1056/7–1060).169 The title of
this chapter Pugna Tolenzorum solidifies the error regarding two tribes of the
Liutici Federation, the Redars and Tholensi, as one tribe which was to partic-
ipate in the struggle for hegemony with the alliance of the Circipanias and
Kessinians. Helmold himself is responsible for the propagation of this wrong
identification of both ethnonys. In borrowings from Adam’s work, in general
he consistently uses the phrase: Riaduri atque (or et) Tholenzi,170 however in
his own text he sometimes interprets atque or et as sive.171
The same happened in the presentation of the reasons for conflict, which
were not known from Adam’s work: “Indeed Riaduri or Tholenzi [emphasis –
S.R.] because of their most ancient city and that most famous shrine, in which
the statue of Radigast is displayed, wanted to rule, while they still ascribed to
themselves a unique honour of nobility for such reason that they were visited
by all the peoples of the Slavs for the sake of the oracles and annual payments
of offerings.”172
On the basis of the information rendered by Thietmar and Adam of Bremen,
it is hard to locate the central temple of the Liutici in any place other than the
territory of the Redars, regardless of whether the name Radogošč or Rethra is
used. Helmold’s claim that they had another name, the Tholenzi, means an
actual departure from the division of the Liutici into four tribes, known from
Adam of Bremen’s work. However, this division into four peoples is confirmed
by Helmold when he presents the parties of the conflict discussed in this chap-
ter, but simultaneously there is this equation of the names of the said people
by the word sive (“or”, “that is”): “So, there are four peoples of them who are
called Liutici or Wilzi. It is clear that among them Kycini and Circipani live on
169 For information on these events see e.g. Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 162 ff.; Babij,
Wojskowość, pp. 154 ff.
170 Helmold I, 21. Cf. Helmold I, 2.
171 Helmold identified the Tholensi with the Redars for the first time in his presentation
of the Slavic peoples, see Helmold I, 2: “… occurrit Winulorum provincia, eorum qui
Tholenzi sive Redarii dicuntur …”.
172 H elmold I, 21: “Siquidem Riaduri sive Tholenzi [emphasis – S.R.] propter antiquissimam
urbem et celeberrimum illud fanum, in quo simulachrum Radigast ostenditur, regnare
volebat, asscribentes sibi singularem nobilitatis honorem eo quod ab omnibus populis
Slavorum frequentarentur propter responsa et annuas sacrificiorum impensiones.”
296 Chapter 4
the other side of the [river] Peene, while Riaduri or Tholenzi live on this side
of Peene.”173
Therefore, in the above quotation one may observe a lack of consistency,
which makes one realize that on one hand Helmold showed respect for the
authority of his predecessor and so he followed this division of the Liutici into
four tribes, but on the other hand he regarded the inhabitants of the Liutici
land “before the Peene River” as one people with two names. This way of de-
scribing the situation corresponds with the idea that the name of the Redars
should not be treated as an ethnic one, but should be explained in reference to
the cultural community established around the temple.174 However, this posi-
tion does not seem sufficiently justified regarding the strong premises support-
ing the existence of the Redars tribe in 11th-c. sources.
Helmold did not betray any doubts in this matter either, but the fact that
he assumed that they were called Tholensi indicates that he did not notice the
tribal division of the Liutici community in the area “before the Peene River.”
This situation, on the one hand, can be explained by the chronicler’s poor ori-
entation in the geography of tribal divisions in neighbouring areas, especially
that in his times the erosion of old tribal structures took place. On the other
hand – as it is indicated by this particular treatment of Adam’s information re-
lated to the division of the Liutici tribes – it could be Helmold’s own invention.
173 Helmold I, 21: “Quatuor autem sunt populi eorum, qui Liuticii sive Wilzi dicuntur, quo-
rum Kycinos atque Circipanos citra Panim, Riaduros sive Tholenzos cis Panim habitare
constat.”
174 In this concept the Liutici – Redars would be the “assembled people” (literary “the coun-
cil” – Polish “rada”), who gathered near the temple to rule with the oracle, and their
name Liutici would mean the people of a strict or harsh, i.e. Old Slavic “luty”, god – see
Lothar Dralle, Slaven an Havel und Spree. Studien zur Geschichte des hevellisch-wilzischen
Fürstentums (6. bis 10. Jahrhundert) (Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1981), pp. 136–158; idem,
“Rethra,” p. 55. This view, however, disregards clear source data which leaves no doubt as
to the ethnic character of the Redars tribe, e.g. Adam III, 22, and earlier Thietmar VI, 23–
25, who wrote about Radogošč. See e.g. Józef Spors, Studia nad wczesnośredniowiecznymi
dziejami Pomorza Zachodniego. XII–pierwsza połowa XIII w. (Słupsk: Wyższa Szkoła
Pedagogiczna w Słupsku 1988), p. 10, footnote 2. The above etymologies of tribal names
(or at least the Liutici name) deserve attention, especially if one takes into consideration
the information provided by Adam II, 21, schol. 16, that “quatuor populos a fortitudine
Wilzos apellant vel Leuticios”. Brave, valorous and harsh in the understanding of adjective
“luty” are the etymological connotations of Liutici-Leutici, and their other name Veleti-
Wilzi, if it is to evoke this fortitudo, certainly must be in connection with the Slavic wolves
(Polish “wilki”). Ingenuity of researchers searching for the etymology of the name Redars
is sometimes surprising, for example H. Kunstmann, who considered Rethra a name
taken from Greek, where the term “ρητρα” occurs in legal and judicial context (e.g. law,
agreement) – see Strzelczyk, Tysiąclecie, p. 260. See also above, pp. 215 f.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 297
The main reason for the war, according to him, were the ambitions of the
community concentrated around Rethra to execute its superior rights in the
Liutici sphere and to do so not only in the realm of cult but also of politics.
Representatives of these rights, for Helmold, become one people related to
the famous temple. They are connected by the fact that they lived in the same
region (provincia), the capital of which is Rethra, which is the best explana-
tion for the use of “sive” to refer to relations between the Redari and Tholensi
ethnonyms.175
This interpretation finds its analogy in the chronicler’s presentation of his
contemporary situation in the zone of the late pre-Christian Slavdom, whose
centre was to be Arkona on Rügen. There, Svantevit’s temple, the place famous
for his efficiency in granting oracles, was frequented by the inhabitants of “the
whole Slavdom” and was the place where they sent their tributes. Rans them-
selves, due to the fact that they possessed the famous temple, aspired to ex-
tend their power to neighbouring areas.176 Similarly Rethra, where – as it has
already been mentioned – all Slavic peoples were to go because of the oracle
and where they sent gifts, had one people as its guardian striving to dominate
among its neighbours. It seems, therefore, that in Helmold’s presentation of
Slavdom there was realized a paradigm in which there was one hegemon of
other tribes concentrated around the temple considered its centre.
This is most certainly why he “corrected” the image of the civil war in the
Liutici tribes. One should remember that Adam of Bremen described this
conflict as a fight between the isolated Circipanians and the other tribes in
the Federation.177 By contrast, Helmold showed that in this fight the “Redars-
Tholensi” were isolated and they had to face the other Liutici, so as to present
the supporter of the temple primacy as one people aspiring to take control of
all other pagan Slavs. In the context of these remarks, one has to assume that
the version of events presented by Helmold is most probably an interpretation
deviating from the reality of the times he described.178
However, appreciation for the conflict over the significance of Rethra in
this argument still remains merely a probability. One should pay attention
to a proposal to perceive the clash of inter-federation forces as a conflict be-
tween the theocracy concentrated in Rethra and the leader of military forces
of Circipanian tribe, who wanted to subvert the strong influence of the priests
175 Helmold I, 2: “… Winulorum provincia, eorum qui Tholenzi sive Redarii dicuntur; civitas
eorum vulgatissima Rethre …”
176 See further, pp. 322, 364.
177 Adam III, 22.
178 Strzelczyk in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 149 (footnote 284); see also Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 154 f.
298 Chapter 4
on governance.179 However, taking into account that the basis of their role in
politics was their cooperation with the council (veche),180 it is hypothetically
worth extending the field of ideological confrontation and the search for the
genesis of the civil war in the aspirations of the Circipanians (and possibly also
the Kessinians) to establish the monarchy.181 The Redars, Tholensi (and maybe
also the Kessinians) would definitely oppose this, supporting the traditional
role of the council and the temple in Rethra (or Radogošč) as a bonding ele-
ment of the tribes.
In the light of these findings, the internal war in 1056/7 resulted from at-
tempts to change the political system of the Liutici Federation, which is a prem-
ise for the view that the religious factor, represented by the famous temple, was
a constitutive element for this supra-tribal community and an indicator of its
identity.182 It is not accidental that the Redars were the main advocates of this
order, due to the fact that they had Rethra on their territory. This meant that
they enjoyed the condition which was very accurately called “medii et poten-
tissimi” by Adam of Bremen.183 Hence they would fight to maintain this privi-
leged position among the Liutici.
Helmold, referring to these events and issues after over a century, confirmed
the very fact of the political significance of Rethra. However, in comparison
with Adam of Bremen’s work, he changed the motifs of the Redars’ actions.
They were by no means defenders of the traditional order, but rather they want
to establish a new one at the expense of the freedom of those who opposed
them.184 This fight for imposing hegemony over their neighbours initially was
not very fortunate for these “Redars-Tholensi,” which allowed Helmold to in-
troduce a key problem from the perspective of his work, i.e. the fortunes of
Slavic Christianization.
185 Ibidem: “de Christianitate nulla fuit mentio, nec honorem dederunt, qui contulit eis in
bello victoriam.” The quoted sentence combines a borrowing from Adam’s work and
phrases from the Acts of the Apostles (Act 12, 23).
186 Helmold I, 21; cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 179.
187 Helmold I, 24.
188 E.g. Helmold I, 25.
300 Chapter 4
by Gottschalk’s son, the Obodrite Prince Henry (deceased in 1127).189 After the
battle of Śmiłów (Schmilau) probably in 1105190 – which according to Helmold
led to the fulfilment of God’s plans191 – “all the peoples of the Eastern Slavs”
(most certainly the Warni, Obodrite, Circipanians and Kessinians192) became
his tributaries. The Rans were already the unquestionable leaders of pagan
Slavdom at that time.
189 Władysław Kowalenko, “Henryk,” in SSS, vol. 2, pp. 200 f., presents basic facts related to
this period in the history of Polabia; see also Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 163; Myśliński,
Polska wobec Słowian, pp. 148 f.
190 A disputable date, see Jerzy Strzelczyk, “Śmiłowe Pole,” in SSS, vol. 5, p. 569. Turasiewicz,
Dzieje polityczne, pp. 168 f., 176 f.; cf. Babij, Wojskowość, p. 159.
191 Helmold I, 34.
192 J. Strzelczyk in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 191, footnote 472. Cf. Łowmiański, Początki Polski,
vol. 5, Warszawa 1973, p. 299 ff.
193 The fights and their reflection in other sources are presented by Osięgłowski, “Początki
słowiańskiej Rugii,” pp. 262 ff., and this study was used in these considerations. See also
Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 171 ff. It is worth mentioning that some scholars moved the date of
the Rans’ invasion of the Lübeck to 1110 – see Helmolda Kronika, p. 197, footnote 493.
194 Helmold I, 36: “Sunt autem Rani, qui ab aliis Runi apellantur, populi crudeles, habitantes
in corde maris, ydolatrie supra modum dediti, primatum preferentes in omni Slavorum
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 301
In this way Helmold outlined the Rügen theocratic system based on the co-
existence of two centres of power: apart from the “king” there was the temple
in which the superior priest, acting on behalf of a deity, enjoyed higher au-
thority than the ruler. Hence it is not surprising that in this information the
divination of fate had decisive influence on starting military expeditions and
that after a victorious return, the seized gold and silver were left in the temple
treasury.195 The ascertainment that the conquered peoples were also to pay an-
nual tribute to the temple, confirms the political dimension of Svantevit’s cult.196
In this perspective the increase of his significance among other Slavic gods was
accompanied by the development of the Rügen statehood, the power of which
was attributed strictly to the power of the tutelary deity.197
The only theological category used in this passage in the presentation of the
Rans’ cult is its classification as idolatry. Yet, it should be mentioned that the is-
land’s inhabitants are devoted to it above all (supra modum). This relationship
with idols somehow explains the source of their cruelty, and in this context
emphasis on the fact that they live in the “heart” of the sea is characteristic, as
it is associated with the danger or even presence of anti-sacral powers, espe-
cially in this description’s climate.198
Driven by a desire to dominate the Wagrians and Nordalbingians who were
already subdued to Henry, the Obodrite prince – returning here to the main
stream of Helmold’s narrative – attacked Lübeck, which was successfully
nacione, habentes regem et fanum celeberrimum. Unde etiam propter specialem fani illi-
us cultum primum veneracionis locum optinent, et cum multis iugum imponant, ipsi nul-
lius iugum paciantur, eo quod inaccessibiles sint propter difficultates locorum. Gentes,
quas armis subegerint, fano suo censuales faciunt; maior flaminis quam regis veneracio
apud ipsos est. Qua sors ostenderit, exercitum dirigunt. Victores aurum et argentum in
erarium Dei sui conferunt, cetera inter se partiuntur.”
195 In the further part of his narration Helmold one more time confirms the existence of the
temple treasury and leaving gold and silver there (as long as it was not kept as jewellery
for their women). The chronicler takes an opportunity here to emphasize that the Rans
did not use coins, but they paid with linen canvas – see Helmold I, 38. For information
on Svantevit’s treasury see, e.g. Łowmiański, Początki Polski, vol. 4, pp. 135–138. For paying
with shawls see also Relacja Ibrahima ibn Jakuba z podróży do krajów słowiańskich, p. 49.
196 Svantevit, or de facto his temple happened to possess some of the prerogatives of ducal
power in Rans society, however, it is hard to assume that their god had the same function
as a duke, as it was rather unduly proposed by Miś, “Przedchrześcijańska religia,” p. 109.
The state character of Svantevit’s cult is confirmed by the fact that the Danish king – a
Christian (sic!) – made offerings to Svantevit. See above, p. 278.
197 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 43.
198 For possible associations with the sea element, see above, p. 167. Helmold emphasizes
also that the sea element contributed to the security of Rans, it made their abodes hardly
accessible. However, this comment is made in another context describing more practical
aspects of their location (cf. footnote 194 in this chapter).
302 Chapter 4
defended by the ruler. In the description of these events the spiritual dimen-
sion of this confrontation is strongly emphasized and the conflict between
both sides was presented as a struggle between the power of Christianity and
evil forces represented by the pagans.199 However, the chronicler devotes more
attention to the expedition of Henry to the land of Rans in 1123/4,200 and its
presentation brings interesting material related to the social and political role
of the priest (most certainly the major priest from Arkona).
“Rugians saw the impetus of that man, >>feared with a great fear<<, and
sent their priest who arranged to talk to him about peace.”201 In this sentence
it is easy to recognise the words from the Bible, for instance from the Book
of Jonah, where sailors were terrified (>>feared with a great fear<<).202 This
is not all.
The request formulated by the pagan priest and directed to Henry was
composed of crumbs of expressions taken from the Bible:203 “Ne irascatur do-
minus noster super servos suos. Ecce terra in conspectu tuo est, utere ea ut
libet, omnes in manu tua sumus; quicquid imposueris feremus” (“Let not our
lord be angry at his servants. Behold, the land is before your eyes, use it as
you please, we are all in your grasp; whatever you lay [upon us], we will bear
it”).204 This compilation of expressions can be analyzed as an instinctive use
of phraseology that the priest from Bosau would have recalled from exercises
at school or even as a result of rewriting biblical phrases. Would it be, however,
proof of insufficient knowledge of Latin? Even if the answer is yes, it is not the
only reason.
If one takes into account the significance of the Bible in medieval works,
one should consider the possibility that biblical references added dignity to
199 E.g. Helmold I, 36: “Magnificatusque est dominus Deus in manu Christianorum in die
illa, statueruntque, ut dies Kalendarum Augusti celebretur omnibus annis in signum et
recordationem, quod percusserit Dominus Ranos in conspectu plebis suae.” (“And the
Lord God was revered on that day among the Christians, and so they set that every year
the first of August will be celebrated as a sign and remembrance that the Lord smote Rans
on his people’s eyes”).
200 Helmold I, 38. See: Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,” pp. 263 ff. Kowalenko,
“Henryk,” pp. 200 f.; Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne, pp. 183–185.
201 Helmold I, 38: “Videntes igitur Rugiani impetum viri >>timuerunt timore magno<< mise-
runtque flaminem suum, qui cum ipso de pace componeret”.
202 Jon 1:10: “timuerunt viri timore magno”; cf. e.g. 1 Macc 10:8; Mk 4:40; Lk 2:9.
203 Gen 31:35: Rachel “ait ne irascatur dominus meus” (i.e. her father Laban); Gen 16:6: “ecce
ait [Abram] ancilla tua [Hagar] in manu tua [Sarah] est …”, and 1 Macc 1:3: “et siluit terra
in conspectu eius (i.e. Alexander the Great)”, the same also in reference to king Demetrius,
see 1 Macc 11:38 and 52.
204 Helmold I, 38.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 303
the text, emphasized a particular passage, and in this case also added splen-
dour to the character which was outstanding in the author’s opinion. Taking
into account the importance of the allegorical interpretation of texts, one
should consider the possibility that by using such high condensation of bibli-
cal phrases, the author wanted to refer to images of the sacred history, in the
reflection of which Henry acquired the characteristics of outstanding leaders
of antiquity,205 and features superior to the pagans206 or rebels.207 One can
speak here about monumentalization and typization of his achievements in
the biblical convention.208
The very utterance of biblical phrases by a priest who served demons was
a particular example of a literary interpretation of paganism on the stage of
history. Characteristically, Helmold turns this representative of Rans into a
negotiator and advocate of the people who were threatened by annihilation.
Because of this, the character does not evoke any association with the sphere of
antisacrum. In this context, the Rans are mainly rebels and apostates. However,
the priest representing them to the outside world, when dealing with the mat-
ter of their existence, is actually more significant among them than a prince,
as was earlier mentioned by the chronicler. This opinion can certainly raise
doubts from the point of view of a positivist historian,209 and there remains
the open question of the extent to which this historiographic image of theocra-
cy, or more precisely hierocracy, of the Rans results from a lack of appreciation
or purposeful depreciation of the role of the assembly (veche) by Helmold.210
205 Like Alexander the Great or Demetrius. See footnote 203 in this chapter.
206 A reference to the allegory of Sarah and Hagar, cf. Gal 4:21–31, shows Henry as Sarah’s
counterpart (allegorically Israel) who has Hagar, a slave (allegorically pagans). See foot-
note 203 in this chapter.
207 See footnote 203 in this chapter.
208 See also Helmold I, 38: (Henry) “non credebat eis, eo quod ipse nosset omnes”, which
refers to the figure of Jesus in the Gospel According to J 2:24: “… Iesus non credebat semet
ipsum eis/ eo quod ipse nosset omnes.” See Helmolda Kronika, p. 203, footnote 512.
209 E.g. Wachowski, Słowiańszczyzna, p. 128, emphasized that secular people were also Rans’
envoys.
210 Possibly it was conditioned by the pragmatics of his work. For further discussion see
pp. 359, 374; see also Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, p. 151 f.
211 Helmold I, 51.
304 Chapter 4
at Lübeck, the place of residence of the Obodrite prince Henry.212 Vicelin was
a charismatic apostle of the Slavs who, regardless of his posthumous cult,
never became as well-known as St. Otto of Bamberg, or the earlier Sts. Bruno
of Querfurt and Adalbert. The selection of the town was not accidental be-
cause, as it is stressed by the chronicler, it was the only centre of Christianity
in the Slavic lands of the Veleti and the Obodrite. The newcomer “was given
for salvation of this tribe, to straighten the ways of God among the vicious and
deceitful nation.”213 Helmold gave an extensive account (I, 42–46) of Vicelin’s
life, emphasizing the moment of his arrival in Slavdom with the intention of
preaching the gospel and eradicating idolatry (ydolatriam extirpandi),214 only
to emphasize finally that these plans were thwarted because of Prince Henry’s
death and the subsequent wars over his legacy.
Waiting for a better time for his action, Vicelin started preaching the gospel
among the neighbouring Nordalbings. This is noteworthy due to the fact that
these Saxon peoples did not differ much in terms of religion and customs from
the neighbouring Obodrites.215 Vicelin had to face the challenge of deepen-
ing superficial Christianization of this country because the Nordalbings, in the
chronicler’s opinion, took nothing from Christianity apart from the name and
they remained “genus agreste et incultum,” (“brood uncultivated and crude”)
which was expressed in their cult of groves, springs and many other “erro-
neous superstitions.”216 Hence, it is possible to see in this message a certain
212 Vicelin’s life and achievement and literature devoted to him are discussed by Strzelczyk,
Apostołowie, pp. 251–272; idem, “Wicelin,” in SSS, vol. 6, pp. 415 f. See also Scior, Das
Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 154 ff.; Enno Bünz, “Vicelin,” in Lexikon des Mittelalters, vol. 8
(München: Artemis, 1997), col. 1622 f.
213 Helmold I, 41: “datus sit in salutem gentis huius, directas facere semitas Dei nostri in na-
tione prava et perversa”. The phrase “nacione prava et perversa” refers to Phil 2:15.
214 Helmold I, 46. Ydolatria in this place must be a synonym to the whole pagan cult. See
below, p. 338.
215 Helmold I, 47: “Tres autem sunt Nordalbingorum populi: Sturmari, Holzati, Thetmarki,
nec habitu nec lingua multum discrepantes, tenentes Saxonum iura et Christianum
nomen, nisi quod barbarorum vicinam furtis et latrociniis operam dare consueverunt …”
(“There are three Nordalbingian peoples: Sturmari, Holzati, Thetmarki – they do not dif-
fer significantly among themselves with behavior, clothing or language, they obey the
Saxon laws and name themselves Christians, besides the fact that due to the proximity of
the barbarians they got used to thievery and pillage …”). See also Scior, Das Eigene und das
Fremde, pp. 196 ff.; Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 349.
216 Ibidem, I, 48: “Cumque [Vicelinus with his companions] pervenissent ad locum destina-
tum [to Falder – today Neumünster], perspexit [Vicelinus] habitudinem loci campumque
vasta et sterili mirica perroridum, preterea accolarum genus agreste et incultum, nichil
de religione nisi nomen Christianitatis habentes. Nam lucorum et fontium ceterarumque
superstitionum multiplex error apud eos habetur.” See also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische
Norden, p. 352; Goetz, Die Wahrnehmung, p. 204.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 305
connection between on one hand the toughness of the people and the pri-
mordiality of customs as well as a lack of education, and on the other hand
idolatry, which certainly is a reflection of the conviction of the clergy, that at-
tachment to practices qualified as paganism was characteristic of uneducated
social groups.
Further lines bring a very enthusiastic description of the effectiveness of
evangelization and atonement of this brute people (gens bruta). Vicelin visited
nearby churches “lecturing the peoples with salutary admonishments, rebuk-
ing the wrong-doers, conciliating the backsliders and destroying the sacred
groves and all the cursed rites.”217 His example attracted other gospel preachers
to him and they created a community of regular canons218 located in Falder (a
region near Wippendorf, now Neumünster).219 They practiced evangelical rec-
ommendations related to their neighbour and they fasted and prayed for the
conversion of the Slavs.220 However, for a long time their prayers were fruitless
because “necdum enim completae sunt iniquitates Amorreorum, neque venit
tempus miserendi eorum.” Thus one can see here an allegory that interprets
the persistent native religion of the Slavs in the same way as in the work of
Adam of Bremen based on biblical history.221
217 Helmold I, 47: “… prebens populis monita salutatis, errantes corrigens, concilians dissi-
dentes, preterea lucos et omnes ritus sacrilegos destruens”.
218 There is information about the regular canons only in some of the chronicle manuscripts –
see Helmolda Kronika, p. 231, footnote 621.
219 In 1330 the monastery was moved to Bordesholm and in 1490 it was reformed and became
part of the Windesheim Congregation; it was secularised in 1566. The source documenta-
tion, literature and the history of the convent is discussed in Monasticon Windeshemense,
part 2: Deutsches Sprachgebiet, ed. Wilhelm Kohl, Ernest Persoons, Anton G. Weiler,
Archives et Bibliothèques de Belgique 16 (Brussels, 1977), pp. 79–94; cf. Thomas Hill,
“Bordesholm,” in Lexikon für Theologie und Kirche, vol. 2, ed. Walter Kasper et al. (Freiburg
im Breisgau: Herder, 1994), p. 593.
220 Helmold I, 47; cf. Gen 15:16 and Ps 101:14. Vicelinus’s efforts related to the Christianization
of the Slavs took him before the emperor whom he prompted the idea of building the
Seegeberg stronghold on Wagrian land. According to the chronicler, the missionary was
guided by his care for the salvation of the Slavs, however, even during the construc-
tion there were voices against “the bald man” (i.e. Vicelinus) who was the reason for “all
this evil”. Helmold observed that the stronghold on the land of the Slavs was – in their
opinion – associated with oppression of them. See: Strzelczyk, Apostołowie, pp. 263–268;
cf. Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 191.
221 Helmold I, 47. See above, p. 243, footnote 229. By no means, however, did the Slavs experi-
ence the fate of Biblical Amorites, i.e. annihilation – they would experience mercy, which
shows a theological idea of the Providence intervening in history, when the measure of
iniquity is filled up.
306 Chapter 4
222 Helmold I, 52: “Invaluitque in diebus illis per universam Slaviam multiplex ydolorum cul-
tura errorque superstitionum. Nam preter lucos et penates, quibus agri et opida redund-
abant, primi et precipui erant Prove deus Aldenburgensis terrae, Siwa dea Polaborum,
Redigast deus terrae Obotritorum.” Such concept of the “whole Slavdom” is inconsistent
in comparison with other places in the chronicle, where the Slavic Rans’ god Svantevit the
first to be listed as pagan deity.
223 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 62.
224 Cf. domestici dii by Thietmar (see above, p. 161). Images of the creatures can be small idols
found by archaeologists in the Baltic area; cf. Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 418.
225 Zernack, Die burgstädtischen Volkversammlungen, p. 220.
226 See e.g. Turasiewicz, Dzieje polityczne, passim.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 307
227 This discussion reaches the earliest testimonies of Slavic beliefs, starting with Procopius
of Caesarea’s information on the Antes and the Sclavenes, in which it is possible to ob-
serve a division into gods (theos) and a group of deities of lower rank (nymphs, rivers,
daimonia). This model presentation in the case of Helmold’s work corresponds with the
deus – penates juxtaposition, for more discussion see below, pp. 308, 376, 380.
228 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 198; Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 195.
229 Karol Potkański, “Wiadomości Długosza o polskiej mitologii,” in Karol Potkański,
Pisma pośmiertne, vol. 2 (Kraków: PAU, 1924) p. 72. Moreover, Potkański assumed that
Dlugossius’s “Żywie” (“Zywye”) was one of the “Polish” most certain gods because of the
existence of “Żywa” among the Polabians and the conviction that Dlugossius did not read
Helmold – ibidem, p. 84.
230 A. Brückner changed his opinion on the sounds of Podaga’s and Pogoda’s names con-
vergence: initially he thought it was accidental, however, next he assumed that Joannis
de Czarnkow chronicon Polonorum was an indirect link between them. See Brückner,
Mitologia słowiańska i polska, pp. 49, 233; idem, Dzieje kultury polskiej (Kraków: L. Anczyc
i Spółka, 1931), p. 139. See also Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 17, 47, 198; Gieysztor,
Mitologia, p. 197.
231 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 183.
232 Possibly the military banners (in sing. so called “stanica”), see Moszyński, Die vorchristli-
che Religion, p. 86; idem, Staropołabski teonim, p. 39. See above, pp. 105 , 157.
233 Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 42, 197 f.
308 Chapter 4
of the Siwa statue, a conviction that she was worshipped just like Prove, in
hierophany embodied in nature, was disseminated.234 However, the silence on
the matter of her idol cannot be used as a decisive argument here.
Prove, the god of the Starigard land, has three testimonies in the Chronicle
of the Slavs. The most extensive one accompanies the description of his sanc-
tuary. Hence his cult will be discussed below on the basis of more detailed
data.235 However, even now it should be emphasized that his position as the
major patron of the tribe, in the light of Helmold’s work, should not raise any
doubts, regardless of the fact that he was not worshipped in a temple and as an
idol.236
The third of the above-mentioned gods, Redigast, should consistently be
identified with Redigast from Rethra with reference to the testimonies of
Adam of Bremen and Helmold himself. The dissemination of Redigast’s cult
among the Obodrite can be confirmed by local names,237 although it is a
double-edged argument because it is possible that a theonim was created from
a toponym and not the other way around.238 Another possibility which should
be taken into account is that Redigast’s cult came to the Obodrite land from
Rethra.239 From the silence of the sources it is hard to conclude whether in
this case he had a temple and a statue, but the Liutici analogy would indicate
a positive answer.240
234 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 184. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 154 and 198, being convinced
that more important deities were worshipped with statues, he treats Siwa as well as Prove
and Podaga as demons, hence sharing an earlier view of Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska
i polska, p. 200. In the case of Siwa it was to be a demon of life and growth. This attempt
to degrade the said deities does not seem justifiable because Helmold differentiated be-
tween gods and goddesses and lower rank supernatural creatures such as “penates”. In the
assumption of the argumentation questioned here there is a false conviction that idolatry
is an inseparable element in polytheism – see also above, pp. 107, 173 ff.
235 See below, pp. 330 ff.
236 See p. 338.
237 According to Łowmiański, Religia, p. 171.
238 This argument was rejected by Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, pp. 73 f., (in his po-
lemic with L. Niederle) who treated this testimony of a deity cult as a mistake considered
similar to “specious” (in Brückner’s opinion) testimony of Adam of Bremen. Moreover,
the argument deriving from names is used by Brückner against the existence of the deity
arguing that his name was created on the basis of topography by mistake (ibidem, p. 74).
239 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 184, thought that this cult translation took place after the fall of
Rethra, which seems hardly justifiable: it is more probable that the prime of the famous
temple can be better explained by possible dissemination of its cult to the neighbours.
Such possibility is not excluded by Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 169.
240 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 184, claimed that there was no Redigast’s statue in the Obodrites,
similarly to Siwa and Prove. This way of thinking is a consequence of adoption of a very
typical of this scholar theory of the development of the Slavic religion. According to this
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 309
theory the Obodrites would represent a more archaic level of beliefs and cult than poly-
theism and idolatry, the evidence for which would be the taking over by the Obodrites of
the major deity with a double-barrelled name from the Liutici (not as an archaic one as
e.g. Siwa). However, this argumentation does not explain the fact that the cult of the idol
from Rethra would reach the Obodrites without moving its shape, i.e. the statue and the
temple, especially that these tribes knew these objects (the example of Podaga).
241 He participated in the devastation of his sanctuary, see below.
242 In this case, however, it is necessary to take into account a wider context of this informa-
tion, especially significance attributed to Svantevit from Rügen.
310 Chapter 4
hence also deities aspiring to a major rank.243 Therefore this catalogue of three
deities presented by Helmold would have likely been chosen from a longer se-
ries of deities.244
The goal of the chronicler’s presentation was emphasizing the distinctive-
ness of particular tribal cults, but it also comprises details useful in the re-
search on the changes taking place in the sphere of Slavic beliefs and cults in
the 11th and 12th c. In the case of these investigations, the key significance is
attributed to the problem of the genesis of patron gods of particular tribes or
assembly places, especially in relation to the appearance of double-barrelled
theonyms.245 Redigast is such a character in Helmold’s presentation. Similar to
the earlier confirmed Liutici god with the same name, he was the patron of the
main tribe in the multi-tribal organization.
It is possible that he obtained his name in connection with the topogra-
phy and natural environment of his sanctuary, as a result of the evolution of
Svarožic’s cult, the same as in the case of the Liutici. The name could even
243 A certain analogy can be found in the specifics of the Liutici country at the time of Otto
of Bamberg’s mission in 1128. Temples were located in centres quite near to one another
where there were also assembly places. See Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 70–
94; Rosik, Conversio, pp. 418 ff., 456 ff.
244 Siwa seems especially “suspicious” in this respect – the appearance of a female deity lead-
ing the whole tribal community is a rather exceptional phenomenon. It is possible that
Helmold, while constructing the pantheon of the “entire Slavdom”, decided that a femi-
nine element should not be missing in it.
245 Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 216 f., on the basis of the community of rituals and attri-
butes, he assumed that the highest god of the Western Slavs was solar and occurred in
quite a number of variations: Svarožic, Triglav, Svantevit, Rugievit. Similarly Gieysztor,
Mitologia, p. 116: in Polabia at the time of the political pressure of Christianity, resistance
meant entire faithfulness to paganism; it ensured cultural identity and politically inte-
grated the society. “This would explain the appearance in the sources of a number of
names of deities each of which were worshipped in a different community. Names, but
not deities, because numerous factors seem to support the substitutory character of these
new names in the common henotheism of the Slavs; one of the major deities – it was not
always Perun – was put forward as the patron of the tribal federation, which attributed
to the deity a special local name.” Borrowings from neighbours in the sphere of cult are
also possible, however, the mythological basis of the cult remained the same as the one
inherited from ancestors. Similarly Leciejewicz, Słowianie, pp. 193 f., considered the emer-
gence of particular tribal deities as the result of changes in the Slavic system of beliefs
aimed at adjusting it to the changing social and political reality. According to Leciejewicz
these tribal deities were the local versions of Svarožic, Perun or Veles, and in the
11th c. – see ibidem, pp. 222 f. – local cults substituting the system of old Slavic mythology
were developed. Agricultural deities were substituted by war ones. Although A. Gieysztor
alternatively connected Svantevit and Iarovit with Perun, and Triglav with Veles, there is
no doubt that cult disintegration as such became a fact and only some functions of gods
and rituals remained similar.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 311
249 Similar information that pagans claim that their gods rejoiced at Christian blood is a
view expressed by Adam of Bremen (IV, 27) regarding to Uppsala. This statement of the
chronicler is sometimes treated as an example of the demonization of the Scandinavian
religion, see e.g. Anders Hultgård, “Menschenopfer,” in Reallexikon der Germanischen
Altertumskunde, vol. 19, ed. Heinrich Beck et al. (Berlin/New York: De Gruyter, 2002),
pp. 533–546.
250 See The Letter of Adelgot published by Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, pp. 234–236. Discussion
on the source – ibidem, pp. 233–269.
251 Helmold I, 52: “Post cesam hostiam sacerdos de cruore libat, ut sit efficacior oraculis
capescendis.”
252 Ibidem: “Nam demonia sanguine facilius invitari multorum opinio est”.
253 In another place in the chronicle the expression “multorum opinio” refers to Christians,
see Helmold I, 95.
254 Helmold I, 52: “Consummatis iuxta morem sacrificiis populus ad epulas et plausus con-
vertitur”. Łowmiański, Religia, p. 186, emphasizes that Helmold did not mention sacral
orgies condemned by priests from Rus’.
255 Helmold I, 52: “Est autem Slavorum mirabilis error; nam in conviviis et compotationibus
suis pateram circumferunt, in quam conferunt, non dicam consecracionis, sed execracio-
nis verba sub nomine deorum, boni scilicet atque mali, omnem prosperam fortunam a
bono deo, adversam a malo dirigi profitentes. Unde etiam malum deum lingua sua Diabol
sive Zcerneboch, id est nigrum deum appellant.”
256 It is mentioned by J. Strzelczyk in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 245, footnote 683.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 313
the chronicler’s aversion to this practice and it is also, due to the antithesis in-
cluded in it, an allusion to celebration of the holy mass – because of the chalice
motif – and also other possible liturgical formulas of consecrations due to the
expression consecrationis verba sub nomine.
The occurrence of these analogies, similar to the figure of the Devil appear-
ing in Helmold’s information, favours a view that he could emphasize these
elements of the ritual which evoked an association with church practices fa-
miliar to him. It should be taken into account that the chronicler could inter-
pret the significance of the described gestures using measures taken exactly
from the Christian liturgy. It is similar with the very attempt to capture the
sense of rituals with reference to the Latin terminology, including the word
fortuna. Thus, in the perspective of studies on pre-Christian Slavic religious
practices, the content of the quoted passage should be treated with caution.
The mythical sense of the ritual, according to Helmold, is determined by a
conviction of happiness coming from a good god and unhappiness from a bad
one. There is no other confirmation of such rituals practiced by the Slavs and
this leads to an inclination to search for at least partial analogies. It is possible
to indicate here a harvest festival in Arkona described by Saxo Grammaticus:
the priest, having taken a chalice from the Svantevit statue’s hand, inspected
the state of the liquid poured into it a year before. After this divination, he paid
respect to the statue by drinking fresh mead and asking Svantevit for multipli-
cation of abundance as well as victories for Rans.257
In the discussion conducted on the “peculiar error” so far, the most signifi-
cant element is Helmold’s confirmation of the bipolar structure of sacrum,
expressed in such pairs as bonus deus – malus deus, prospera fortuna – mala
fortuna. Another important element is the identification of the “bad god” with
the Devil, which according to the source was a work of the Elbslavs. In this
context the question of the genesis of this dualism becomes particularly sig-
nificant, and especially the influence of the reception of Christian ideas in the
Slavic environment. Making a statement on this matter should be preceded
by a reference to the basic findings in the discussion conducted so far on this
compelling question, which has been debated by scholars for generations.
The supernatural creatures summoned in the ritual seem to have a differ-
ent nature than the tribal tutelary gods. However, they are also personified
257 Saxo XIV, 39, 5. In the discussion on the ritual described by Helmold, it is indicated that
there was an analogy with magic related to drinking from the chalice confirmed in Rus’ in
The Word of Christolubec. See Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 240 f.
314 Chapter 4
258 Helmold emphasizes that prayer over the chalice was said in god’s name, which – if it is
true – is an additional argument for personal character of the called spiritual power.
259 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 187; cf. idem, “Pseudobóstwa,” pp. 405 f.
260 Popowska-Taborska, Wczesne dzieje, p. 119. See also Moszyński, Kultura, p. 708 – compare
with the Polish “czarna godzina” (literary: ‘black hour’ meaning a rainy day). There were
also attempts to support this position with the occurrence of two names of mountains in
Lusatia: Czorneboh and Bieleboh (e.g. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 160), however, it is a highly
disputable argument. Paul Nedo, “Czorneboh und Bieleboh – zwei angebliche slawische
Kultstätten in Oberlausitz,” Lětopis 6/7 (1963), pp. 9–18, after research on the earlier names
of both mountains in the light of written testimonies, concluded that the current names
and legends related to them have literary genesis and only at the time of Romanticism
they permeated to the general awareness or even folklore (Czorneboh at the end of the
18th c. and Bieleboh as late as the 19th c.). See also Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 154.
261 Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 708–710; cf. Vernardsky, The origins of Russia, pp. 118 f. The original
meaning of ‘bog’ is derived by scholars from the Old Iranian ‘baga’, and Slavic ‘bog’ de-
noted good and abundances, as well as the supernatural giver of “bog” – see e.g. Gieysztor,
Mitologia, p. 74. The same Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 223 f.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 315
solution will be an assumption that the addressees of the magic spell above the
chalice mentioned by Helmold were personifications of fate and fortune, and
hence, were its originators. It is possible that they were demons related to the
individual existence of the man.
It is also possible that the general human Fate (Slavic “Dola”) is in question,
known from eastern Slavic folklore with an analogy in a Balkan myth, in which
its place is taken by “osud” (fate) or also God. Although Slavic legends related
to this theme, in comparison with the Early medieval ones, are rather new,262
the “great significance of the fate or fortune in the religious life of the Slavs
undoubtedly dates back to times thousands of years ago.”263 A related word to
fate (“dola”), “deliti,” corresponds with the Old Indian “bhajati,” from which the
“bogu-” descends.264
The name “Czarnobóg” most probably refers to (mis)fortune personified
in this figure.265 The use of the term deus in his case remains disputable. It
can conceal a lower rank spiritual creature or only a supernatural force rep-
resenting fortune and responsible for fate. However, in Helmold’s times the
original belief substrate, together with the whole system of myths, could be
transformed in such a way that one may speak here about a complete forma-
tion of individual divine creatures responsible for fate. It can also be assumed
that the divine creatures defined as deus bonus and deus malus – not related to
statues or hierophanies in nature – certainly belonged to the layer of the Slavic
religion, whose functioning was a bit shadowed by idolatry or nature cult.266
262 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 189, attacked the view claiming the existence of personified for-
tune among medieval Slavs, and according to him the evidence for that was no informa-
tion in these respects in the dictionary of Old Polish, cf. Słownik polszczyzny XVI wieku,
vol. 5, ed. Maria R. Mayenowa (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1971). The notion of fortune – fate,
in his opinion, developed only under the influence of Byzantium in the south and east of
the Slavdom. However, in such a case ex silentio nullum argumentum …
263 Moszyński, Kultura, p. 700.
264 Ibidem, p. 710.
265 Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 160, proposed to assume that another figuration of “Czarnobóg”
was ‘Ljutbog’ – ‘ferocious god’ in Polabia. The existence of Ljutbog is not confirmed in
sources and is only a speculation based on the name Liutici, see above p. 296.
266 This is why in the light of available sources the claim that, Chors, Dazbog and Stribog
are aspects of a solar deity, which is called White God (Biełobóg), is too bold, similar to
the opinion that for the Western Slavs this god opposing the god of hell Veles, received
the names Iarovit, Porovit and Svantevit – see: M. Eliade, I.P. Couliano, Słownik religii,
Warszawa 1994, p. 197 (an ascertainment based on Marija Gimbutas’s studies); compara-
tive material: Mircea Eliade, A History of Religious Ideas, vol. 3: From Muhammad to the
Age of Reforms, trans. Alf Hiltebeitel, Diane Apostolos-Cappadona (Chicago/London: The
University of Chicago Press: 1988), pp. 31–37. Similarly, on the basis of Helmold’s chronicle,
it is difficult to positively verify S. Kulišić’s speculation that “Veles’s” Črnobog would be in
316 Chapter 4
The deities of fate mentioned by Helmold remain in some relation with the
dualistic cosmogony – since the microcosm (human being) and macrocosm
correspond with each other in belief motifs.267 This is why in the debate over
dualism in Slavic beliefs, emphasized in the discussed passage, a reference to
cosmogonic and anthropogonic myths, reported by collectors of Slavic folk-
lore relics and finding their analogies on a universal scale, turned out to be
rather important. A characteristic feature of these cosmogonies – apart from
the primordial ocean motif, from which the world emerged – turns out to be
the dualistic motif claiming that the creation of the world and man was a work
of two antagonistic supernatural creatures.268
There is a common view that the dissemination of these archaic stories
in “Christianized” form in the Middle Ages was influenced by Manicheism-
Bogomilism trends.269 However, Mircea Eliade very accurately emphasized
that variants of cosmogonic myths about the creation of the world by the God-
Satan pair, occurring in Slavic folklore, are not confirmed in areas of Slavdom
influenced by Bogomilism.270 Therefore, as the sources of dualism present in
this perspective a lunar deity; his antithesis in the form of the “white god” was placed by
the scholar in the uranic area as a personification of heaven, which he connected with the
heavenly god (deus otiosus) and Dazbog (deus dator), see Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija,
pp. 42, 192–194. The notion of ‘bog’ (parallel to Sanskrit bhaga) is of key significance in the
proposed connections, and meant good, abundance and the supreme god, a counterpart
of e.g. Zeus (a precious indicator is the nickname Zeus Bagaios), ibidem, pp. 153–162.
267 Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 164 f., shows the dependence of microcosmogony and macro-
cosmogony in the Proto-Indo-European myth of the cosmic man, so far confirmed in the
Slavdom only once. General information on this matter: Guriewicz [Gurevich], Kategorie
kultury, pp. 43 ff., esp. 59.
268 The origin of the bipolarity of cosmogony can turn out to be even pre-Indo-European
and it could have become more prominent when the Slavs contacted the Old Iranian
peoples, and later – which raises controversies – under the influence of the Bogomils.
See Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 156–161. See also Eliade, A History, vol. 3, pp. 35 f.; Váňa, Svět
slovanských bohů, pp. 52 ff.
269 An example of a dualistic myth from PVL (under the year 6579 [1071]): God washed him-
self in a bath and as he sweated he dried himself with a wisp and threw it out of heaven
to the earth. So Satan argued with God about who should make the man out of the wisp.
Then Satan made the man and God gave him the soul; cf. Łowmiański, Religia, p. 189; see
Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 157 f. Ibidem, p. 163, an example of a dualistic myth about keeping
order in the world: the devil is in chains from which he releases himself to annihilate the
whole world, next he is chained by Christ rising from the dead every year. It is worth men-
tioning that folklore of Slavs and Balts knows the myth of the fight of the thunder deity
(residing on a mountain, in heaven, on the sun or the moon, or the top of a triple tree)
with an enemy positioned lowly: under a tree or a stone. The defeated enemy hides in
underground waters; while the victorious thunder releases rain (see Gieysztor, Mitologia,
pp. 98 f.).
270 Eliade, A History, vol. 3, p. 35.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 317
the discussed cosmogonic myth, one should indicate the Indo-European sub-
strate inherited by the Slavs, which next in folklore acquired an outfit which
was evidently taken from Christianity.
The illustration of the dualism organizing the cosmos can also be seen
in the sculpture of the so-called Sviatovid found in the 19th c. in the Zbruch
River (Ukraine), which has a character of an ideogram.271 In the lower part of
the obelisk there is a three-headed Atlas-like figure carrying representations
carved on higher parts of the ideogram: they were interpreted as the earthly
sphere and the heavenly one in which there is a four-faced figure. This three-
headed “Atlas” was somehow tamed and was associated with the chthonic
sphere, and thereby with devastating powers and black colour. Hence there
was even an idea to find “Czarnobóg”, mentioned by Helmold, in this figure.272
However, given such weak premises, it seems safer to accept only that there
was a community of certain characteristics of both figures without identifying
them together.
The view of the nature of the “black god” as chtonic and hostile to man is
supported by a Slavic association of this deity with the devil borrowed from
Christianity.273 This identification opens another comparative perspective
based on ethnographic material. K. Moszyński observed that: “In the popular
religion of the Polishchuk there are only two types of creatures of some signifi-
cance, namely these countless chorts and a thunder wielding God, shooting
271 In the opinion of scholars (e.g. A. Gieysztor, B. Rybakov, Z. Krzak; see below, footnote 381)
the obelisk is an ideogram of the highest god and imago mundi. The image of three-sec-
toral nature of cosmos joins in him the dualistic opposition of the heavenly ruler of the
pan-cosmos and the three-headed, certainly enslaved “atlas” from the chthonic sphere.
The literature discussing this issue is extensive and yet the question of the medieval gen-
esis of this relic still arises (see below, footnote 381).
272 Rybakov, Jazyčestwo drevnej Rusi, p. 241, reminds the forgotten Famicyn’s idea that in the
lowest part of the obelisk there is an image exactly of “Czarnobóg” related in this concept
with Triglav’s triple power over heaven, earth and underworld.
273 Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 215 f., associated Helmold’s “Czarnobóg” (deus niger) with
“Tjarnaglofi” explained as “Black-headed” known from Knytlingasaga, assuming he was a
reflection of the Christian devil. Similarly, Łowmiański, Religia, p. 187–189, assumed that
“Tjarnaglofi” was a transformation of “Czarnobóg” taking care of the dead. Filipowiak,
Słowiańskie wierzenia, p. 22, found possible support for this funeral hypothesis in the
area of toponomastics and archaeology (a cremation graveyard in the Pomeranian vil-
lage named Czarnogłowy, i.e. “Black-headed”); see also Bylina, Kultura, p. 21. Kulišić,
Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 42, 193, he connects the identification of “Czarnobóg” and
Tiarnaglofi with Triglav, as a chthonic creature, and like other Indo-European having his
antithesis (comp. Pluton – Zeus, Vodan – Thor). This etymology is in conflict with the
findings of Moszyński, Staropołabski teonim, passim, which, by the way, are worth a sepa-
rate discussion (see later, p. 75).
318 Chapter 4
thunders at this malicious, dangerous and foolish gang; chorts and God – two
contrary worlds of good and evil.” However, this Polishchuk faith is very mod-
est and reduced. The Christian outfit of the figures that comprise its subject
seems to conceal the most fundamental layers of religiousness, the ones which
could not be eradicated by Christianization destroying sanctuaries or the elim-
ination of priest-fortune-tellers.274
Therefore, the earlier juxtaposition would follow the chorts – Perun line,275
but this most certainly was not the initial state. The original antithesis of the
chort was certainly the bies. In terms of type, both of these creatures are clas-
sified as demons (Gr. daimon), and the case of a chort it is special, as it denotes
a lame and mutilated bies.276 A. Gieysztor observed in this pair of hypostasis
of good and evil not personifications but rather primitive notions on which
enriching and specifying beliefs were layered.277 The proposed model of the
transformation of the primitive juxtaposition of good and evil into supernatu-
ral creatures forms a good basis for a hypothesis on the formation of the cult of
bipolar figures: deus bonus – deus malus.278
A. Gieysztor assumed that Helmold’s information discussed here should be
referred to indigenous Slavic beliefs.279 At the same time he emphasized in
this respect the moment of Old Iranian influences perceivable in the theonym
“Czarnobóg” in the stem ‘-bog,’ which could be the linking element with the
archaic myth. It cannot be excluded that it reached the Slavs already in the
form of a ritual connected with the chalice, whose Slavic name ‘chasha’ is also
borrowed from Proto-Iranian.280 It is worth emphasizing this while remember-
ing the universal symbolism of the chalice related to fate ruled by the deities
summoned during the rite described in the discussed passage of the Chronicle
of the Slavs.
This hypothetical path of argumentation is one of the possible illustra-
tions of the fundamental thesis in the conducted research, the thesis which is
documented on the basis of the above quoted comparative material relating
the bipolar structure organizing the system of beliefs of the Early Slavs, which
originates from the archetypical cultural substrate widely disseminated in the
Indo-European circle. It is essential that this dualism of good and evil, espe-
cially with reference to fate, is not adequate for the antithesis of sin and grace,
characteristic of Christianity. It is worth emphasizing this so as to prove that it
is hard to connect its occurrence with the influence of Christianity, which in
turn has an impact on the explanation of the genesis of the ritual described by
Helmold and the related myth.
Meanwhile the same bipolar motif of the juxtaposition of the good and evil
gods was sometimes treated as a reflection of an element of Christian beliefs,
or more precisely the Christ–Satan antithesis.281 However in contemporary
Church doctrine this juxtaposition did not have any ontological dualism in its
nature, so identification of “Czarnobóg” with the Devil has to be considered an
effect of a Christian outfit overlapping with the Slavic myth. L.P. Słupecki even
assumed that it was done by Christian clergy. He connected this activity with
the transformation process of Slavic gods into Christian demons.282 However,
in this situation bonus deus would also consistently deserve to be included in
the fellowship of demonic powers, while according to the source only the god
of evil was considered the Devil.
Thus, it seems more probable that in this case one is dealing with interpreta-
tio Slavica of the Christian antisacrum.283 Favourable conditions for such phe-
nomenon had been developed for over two centuries of continuous contacts
between the Polabian tribes and Christianity, as well as a few attempts to im-
plant this religion among them. Another significant factor in shaping Polabian
beliefs was the cultural contact with Scandinavia that could have influenced
the images concerning gods and fate. Unquestionably, there is no doubt that
281 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 26; Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 188–190. See also Fraesdorff,
Der barbarische Norden, p. 324.
282 Słupecki, Einflüsse, p. 187.
283 However, the thesis that the Christian Devil was considered a deity by the Slavs and only
later called “Czarnobóg” (e.g. Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 188 f.) is doubtful, because he oc-
curred in the context in a pair with a “good god”, hence in a heterodoxic constellation
for the then Church doctrine. The exponent of this dualism at that time could be the
Bogomils, however, there are no proper grounds to assume that their concepts reached
Polabia.
320 Chapter 4
284 See e.g. Egon Wamers, “Hammer und Kreuz. Typologische Aspekte einer nordeuropäisch-
en Amulettsitte aus der Zeit des Glaubenswechsels,” in Rom und Byzanz im Norden.
Mission und Glaubenswechsel im Ostseeraum während des 8.–14 Jahrhunderts, vol. 1, ed.
Michael Müller-Wille (Stuttgart: Steiner, 1997), p. 99.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 321
symbolism of baptism.285 One can thus conclude that the colour white was
associated with Christ without any direct connection to treating them as an
antithesis of Satan/Odin as power of darkness. Similarly, one should take into
account the possibility that the perpetrator of evil presented by Helmold was
associated with black also without relation to the antithesis: white as symbol
of good – black as symbol of evil. So, it seems possible that in the Slavic name
of the originator of good there was no white at all, even if (hypothetically) it
was symbolically associated with him.286
Regardless of the solution to this detailed question, it is first of all worth
emphasizing that the example of the diabolization of “Czarnobóg” makes one
realize the occurrence of the trend of “Slavization” of Christian elements in
the spiritual culture of Northern Polabian communities, even at the stage of
attempts to evangelize them. What is more, it should be stressed that among
them it appeared before the final introduction of Christianity in the public
sphere.287 From this perspective, it would be more accurate to state that it was
not so much “Czarnobóg” that gained the outfit of the devil but more the latter
to be “recognized” in the Polabian environment as a native “god of evil.”
To conclude these considerations on the “mirablilis error” of the Slavs in
Helmold’s perspective, it is worth emphasizing that the dualistic element in
their beliefs was most certainly of archaic Indo-European heritage, but in the
discussed case, one should take into account the formation of, even if not the
285 In this particular context of Old Nordic literature the expression “White” with reference
to Christ is explained by relation with a white baptismal robe worn by neophytes (see
e.g. Wolfgang Lange, Studien zur christlichen Dichtung der Nordgermanen (Göttingen:
Vandhoeck & Ruprecht, 1958), pp. 215 f.; commentary of J. Morawiec in: Saga o Hallfredzie
skaldzie kłopotliwym, introd. and trans. Jakub Morawiec (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2011),
p. 121, footnote 92. For symbolism of white with consideration for baptismal connotations
(theological significance of washing off sins, receiving eternal salvation) see e.g. Forstner,
Świat, pp. 115 f.
286 This bonus deus could have a name related to another characteristic, not the alleged
white, and an analogy for this can be found in the name Dazbog. In this theonym the
essential part was the stem “bog” (maybe even without any additional part). However,
on the other hand, the existence of “Białobóg” cannot in any way be excluded from the
field of hypotheses. See: Stanisław Rosik, “Jarowit Mars i Czarny Bóg Diabeł. O rozmaitej
genezie nowych tożsamości słowiańskich bóstw na północnym Połabiu (w kręgu prze-
kazów z XII wieku),” in Historia narrat. Studia mediewistyczne ofiarowane Profesorowi
Jackowi Banaszkiewiczowi, ed. Andrzej Pleszczyński, Joanna Sobiesiak, Michał Tomaszek,
Przemysław Tyszka (Lublin: Wydawnictwo UMCS, 2012) pp. 263–275.
287 This situation is not taken into account in the model context of the functioning of the
so called double-faith in which the occurrence of its phenomena is treated as a response
of people still attached to paganism to its official abolishment. An analysis of Helmold’s
information supports development of the research questionnaire in the characteristics of
changes in the religious life of the Old Slavs.
322 Chapter 4
ritual itself, then at least the myth related to it, from the 10th–11th c. or the mid-
12th c. at the latest before it was presented in the chronicle. This is supported
by the affiliation of the name “Czarnobóg” (Zcerneboch) with the generation
of theonyms created at that time. Soon it was merged into one figure with the
Christian devil by means of interpretatio Slavica.
Helmold’s intention – continuing the lecture of chapter 52 – was to synthe-
size information on the Slavic cult. After discussing lower-ranking spirits and
tribal gods as well as a pair of deities responsible for fortune, he introduced
to his description a figure which was superior to the aforementioned ones:
“Among multiple Slavic deities Zuantevith, god of Rugians’ land, is the greatest
as he is highly effective in his prophecies and in comparison with whom all
other deities are even considered to be semi-gods.”288 It is not the first presen-
tation of Svantevit, the god of the Rans’ land, on the pages of the Chronicle of
the Slavs as a god which is efficient in granting the oracle. The novelty of this
information lies in the degradation of the other representatives of the pan-
theon to “semi-gods” (semidei).
This exceptional position of the Svantevit was emphasized by Helmold when
he was writing about tributes made to this god: “And from all Slavic provinces
certain amounts of sacrifices were made for him.”289 It should be emphasized
here that these “all Slavic provinces” were an extremely reduced area at that
time, because this remark refers to the followers of the primary religion. “With
an astonishing respect” – the chronicler concludes – “do they treat sanctuaries.
For they do not easily allow to take oaths and do not let the neighbourhood of
sanctuaries to be profaned, even if it belonged to their enemies.”290
Svantevit’s domination over various Slavic deities (“inter multiformia (…)
Slavorum numina”) in the perspective of Helmold’s narration is not related
to any formal ties inside this pantheon. The significance of the Rans’ god re-
sulted from the efficiency of the oracle connected with him (“efficatior in re-
sponsis”), i.e. the value of hierophany. His supra-tribal authority is confirmed
by tributes coming from “all” Slavic countries. Hence the term “semi-gods,”
referring to all the other deities worshipped there, is a metaphor depreciat-
ing their significance in comparison with the said hegemon and his temple
(this statement is also supported by the appearance of quasi before the semidei
288 Helmold I, 52: “Inter multiformia autem Slavorum numina prepollet Zuantevith, deus
terrae Rugianorum, utpote efficacior in responsis, cuius intuitu ceteros quasi semideos
estimabant.”
289 Ibidem: “Quin et de omnibus Slavorum provinciis statutas sacrificiorum impensas illo
transmittebant.”
290 Ibidem: “Mira autem reverentia circa fani diligentiam affecti sunt; nam neque iuramentis
facile indulgent neque ambitum fani vel in hostibus temerari paciuntur.”
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 323
categorization).291 The very elevation of the Rans’ god to the leading position
in the Slavic sacrum corresponds with the concept of indicating one “capital of
idolatry” for the whole Slavdom borrowed from Adam of Bremen: Rethra and
later Rügen–Arkona.
The bloody human offerings made in these main cult centres were, accord-
ing to sources, the measure of hostility towards Christianity. Helmold men-
tions that every year one randomly selected Christian was offered to Svantevit
in worship.292 It should be taken into account, however, that this information
is possibly based on common opinion about the cruelty of pagans and their
hatred for Christianity.
This detailed message corresponds with stereotypical opinion about
Slavic cruelty as an innate characteristic (crudelitas ingenita)293 found at the
end of the chapter and confirmed by a description of torments inflicted on
Christians.294 The most brutal torture, as is emphasized by the chronicler, was
crucifixion. It aimed to jeer and mock the Christian sign of redemption, how-
ever he also mentions that this punishment was administered only to perpe-
trators of the most serious crimes, hence not only to Christians.295 Thus Witold
Hensel claimed that in the case of the Slavs “crucifixion was a customary pun-
ishment. Jeering at Christians dying in this way was something secondary,”296
which seems an optimum solution of the problem discussed here.297
291 One should remember, however, that in further narration Helmold will develop his con-
cepts of the theology of the Slavs and will even find in Svantevit the mysterious “god of
gods”, see below, pp. 363 ff.
292 Helmold I, 52: “Unde etiam in peculium honoris annuatim hominem Christocolam, quem
sors acceptaverit, eidem litare consueverunt”.
293 Ibidem; cf. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 335.
294 In this description it is possible to find similarity to a list of torments in the letter written
by the archbishop Adalgot of Magdeburg from the beginning of the 12th c., calling Saxon
lords to fight pagan Slavs; see: Letter of Adalgot in: Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 235. See
also: Pleszczyński, Sobiesiak, Szejgiec, Tomaszek, Tyszka, Historia communitatem facit,
pp. 189 ff.
295 Helmold I, 52: “Sceleratissimos enim cruci subfigendos autumant.”
296 Hensel, Słowiańszczyzna, p. 240.
297 The skepticism of Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 162, seems excessive, he assumed that
human offerings mentioned by Helmold were only public executions of taken hostage
enemies. Such offerings and especially with particular attention for Christians in cult cen-
tres of Polabians and Rans has more numerous testimonies.
324 Chapter 4
who was prompted by Vicelin “to provide a cure of salvation to the Slavs’ tribe
with divine grace granted him from heaven.”298 In practice the bishop’s idea
came down to building Segeberg – a stronghold which would ensure peace
in the Wagrian country. Also, a church was next built at the foot of the hill
on which the fortress stood.299 In this way Vicelin obtained a missionary out-
post and the emperor proved his care for the conversion of pagans. As the
founder of the “new cultivation” in the Slavic country he deserved Helmold’s
special praise.300
Lothar’s premature death resulted in disorder in the state and unrest in
Saxony, which was used by the duke of Wagrians Pribislav to begin the perse-
cution of Christians. His victim was Segeberg and the local missionaries led by
Vicelin hid in Faldera.301 Helmold, to emphasize their missionary vocation and
preparation for work among Slavs, quotes a message that even in exile their ac-
tivity was accompanied by charismatic power (healing and delivering demon-
possessed persons) prophesied in the New Testament as signs accompanying
the evangelization of the Jews and pagans.302
Further narration refers to Saxon matters (chapters 5–58), then the second
crusade (1147) and its ideologist, St. Bernard of Clairvaux (chapters 59–61),
and finally the Slavic matters. In the centre of Helmold’s attention there is the
Obodrite duke Niklot and the Saxon expedition against the Polabian Slavs in
1147 (chapters 62–65). Although the crusaders gained prevalence and induced
some of the defeated to be baptized, Helmold does not present a positive as-
sessment of the results of this imposed decision. It is emphatically confirmed
by the statement that these Slavs were baptized only seemingly: “falso bapti-
zati sunt.”303
298 Helmold I, 53: “Slavorum genti secundum datam sibi celitus potentiam aliquot salutis
remedium provideret.”
299 Ibidem. Cf. Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3, p. 191; Hoffmann, “Beiträge zur Geschichte der
Obodriten,” p. 37.
300 Helmold I, 54.
301 Ibidem, I, 55.
302 Ibidem. The place in the Gospel, i.e. Mt 10:8 (see Helmolda Kronika, p. 253, footnote 723),
mentioned in the editor’s comments, one can add also e.g. Mc 16:17. A spectacular epi-
sode, which was to confirm Vicelinus’s spiritual preparation for the mission among the
pagans, is a description of an exorcism performed by him – Helmold I, 55. See also Walther
Lammers, “Vicelin als Exorzist,” in idem, Vestigia Mediaevalia. Ausgewählte Aufsätze zur
mittelalterlichen Historiographie, Landes- und Kirchengeschichte (Wiesbaden: Steiner,
1979), pp. 284–302; Strzelczyk, Apostołowie, p. 268.
303 Helmold, I, 65. Cf. Kahl, Heidenfrage und Slawenfrage, pp. 670–673; Padberg, Die
Christianisierung, p. 166.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 325
304 For the ideology of the second crusade with a reference to the expedition against the
Polabian Slavs in 1147, proclaimed by Bernard of Clairvaux, see Hans-Dietrich Kahl,
“Die welweite Bereinigung der Heidenfrage – ein übersehenes Kriegsziel des Zweiten
Kreuzzugs,” in Spannungen und Widersprüche. Gedenkschrift für František Graus, ed.
Susanna Burghartz, Hans-Jörg Gilomen, Guy P. Marchal et al. (Sigmaringen: Thorbecke,
1992), pp. 63–89. The goal of the crusade in Polabia is outlined very clearly: ad delen-
das penitus aut certe convertendas nationes illas, so until complete extermination or,
of course, until the conversion of those nations (ibidem, p. 67). See also Padberg, Die
Christianisierung, pp. 164 ff.; Skovgaard-Petersen, “Wendenzüge – Kreuzzüge,” pp. 279 f.
305 Helmold, I, 65: “Dixerunt autem satellites ducis nostri et marchinis Adelberti adinvicem:
Nonne terra, quam devastamus, terra nostra est, et populus noster est? Quare igitur in-
venimur hostes nostrimet et dissipatores vectigalium nostrorum? Nonne iactura haec re-
dundat in dominos nostros?” (“For the servants of our duke and margrave Adalbert spoke
among themselves: Is the land that we destroy not ours, and are those people not our
people? Then why do we stand as enemies against ourselves and why do we waste our
own tributes? Will this harm not reach our lords?”). A lack of conformity between crusade
ideals and realistic Saxon politics in 1147 is discussed by Hans-Dietrich Kahl, “Wie kam es
1147 zum >>Wendenkreuzung<<?,” in Europa Slavica – Europa Orientalis. Festschrift für
Herbert Ludat zum 70. Geburtstag, ed. Klaus-Detlev Grothusen, Klaus Zernack, (Giessener
Abhandlungen zur Agrar- und Wirtschaftsforschung des Europäischen Ostens) 100
(Berlin: Duncker & Humblot, 1980), pp. 286–296, especially 294 f.; idem, “Die welweite
Bereinigung,” pp. 88 (cf. Skovgaard-Petersen, “Wendenzüge – Kreuzzüge,” pp. 282 f.). Kahl
emphasizes the existence of spiritual opposition of the crusade: Premonstratensians and
Bishop Anselm of Havelberg defied the violence and radicalism of the Cistercians.
326 Chapter 4
306 Helmold I, 68: “In variis autem expeditionibus, quas adhuc adolescens in Slaviam profec-
tus exercuit, nulla de Christianitate fuit mentio, sed tantum de pecunia.”
307 Ibidem: “adhuc inmolabant demoniis et non Deo et agebat piraticas incursaciones in ter-
ram Danorum.”
308 Cf. 1 Cor 10:19–20.
309 See below, pp. 328, 372.
310 For the matter of circumstances accompanying the creation of the second book of
Helmold’s chronicle, see pp. 263, 355 f.
311 See Strzelczyk, “Wstęp,” pp. 32 f.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 327
312 For Hartwig see Bernd Schneidmüller, “Hartwig,” in Lexikon des Mittelalters, vol. 4
(München/Zürich: Artemis, 1989), col. 1947.
313 Helmold I, 69: “quia pax erat in Sclavia, proposuit reedificare episcopales, quas barbaricus
furror olim destruxerat in Sclavia”. Cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 212; Fraesdorff,
Der barbarische Norden, pp. 335 f.
314 Helmold I, 69: “permittente Deo propter peccata hominum”.
315 Ibidem: “in terram egestatis et famis, ubi erat sedes Sathanae et habitatio omnis spiritus
inmundi”.
316 Cf. Rev 2:13; 18:2. See also Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, p. 323.
317 The Saxon duke Henry the Lion decided that allowing a stipend for the newly appointed
bishop would depend on acceptance of investiture from him. Initially under the influence
of his metropolitan bishop, Vicelinus objected this request assuming that Henry usurped
for himself competences of the emperor himself. However, finally he gave in to the pres-
sure of the duke. Even earlier, however, although he was devoid of tithe, he visited the ter-
ritory subordinated to him and gave sermons. See Helmold I, 69. Cf. Labuda, Fragmenty,
vol. 3, p. 192; Strzelczyk, Apostołowie, p. 269; Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 156,
158 ff.
318 Helmold I, 69: “receptus est a barbaris habitatoribus terrae illius, quorum deus erat Prove”.
328 Chapter 4
(superstitio) – was led by a priest called Mike.319 This confirms earlier informa-
tion on the appointment of priests that served particular gods who were pa-
trons of communities or tribal territories.320 However, the main support of the
local idolatry was first of all a ruler called Rochel, Kruto’s descendant, who was
tellingly labeled “ydolatra et pirata maximus.”321 This expression shows a ste-
reotypical connection in the characteristics of the fundamentals of the Baltic
Slavs’ attitudes to idolatry with piracy.322
In the description of the missionary action undertaken by Vicelin there is in-
formation about encouraging barbarians to abandon their idols, in which one
can find a conventional indication of the contradiction of the cult of Christ.323
Pagans themselves are shown in this context as rebels. Hence, Helmold blames
the Saxon dukes for the poor results of evangelization as they were not will-
ing to use force to tame the “hearts of rebels.”324 It is not accidental then that
count Adolf II was described with such recognition in the chronicle.
319 Ibidem: “… nomen flaminis, qui preerat superstitioni eorum, erat Mike”. It is possible that
“Mike” is Nicholas, see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 186.
320 Cf. Helmold I, 52.
321 Leciejewicz, Słowianie, p. 219.
322 For more information see pp. 326, 372.
323 H
elmold I, 69: “Cepit igitur pontifex Dei proponere barbaris viam veritatis, quae Christus
est, adhortans eos, ut relictis ydolis suis festinarent ad lavacrum regenerationis” (“So the
God’s priest began to reveal the barbarians the way of truth, which is Christ, and en-
couraged them to give up their idols, and to rush to the bath of regeneration” [i.e. to the
baptism]).
324 H elmold I, 69: “Pauci autem Slavorum applicaverunt se fidei …” (“Not many among the
Slavs joined the faith …”). A certain success mentioned in this place of the chronicle
was the erection of the wooden church as a missionary centre near a fair frequented by
crowds of people from Starigard every Sunday.
325 Helmold, 71: “fanum […] celeberrimum cum ydolis et omni superstitione”. J. Strzelczyk in:
Helmolda Kronika, p. 297, footnote 902, emphasizes that it is not Rethra, hence maybe it
is Iarovit’s temple in Wolgast. However, a more convincing statement was given by Lech
Leciejewicz, Miasta Słowian północnopołabskich (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1968), p. 63, who
hypothetically located the fanum of the Kessinians and Circipanians in Kessin.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 329
It had happened that on the way we arrived at a grove which was the
only one it this country as the whole area is flat. This is where in be-
tween the old trees we saw the sacred oaks devoted to the god of the
lands, named Prove; these were surrounded by a courtyard [atrium] and
a dense wooden fence into which two gates led. Besides the penates and
idols worshiped widely across particular settlements, this place was sa-
cred for the whole country – it had its priest, its feasts and various sacrifi-
cial rituals. This is also where every Monday the inhabitants of the whole
country gathered together with the ruler [regulus] and the priest to
hold trials.331
331 Helmold I, 84: “Accidit autem, ut in transitu veniremus in nemus, quod unicum est in
terra illa, tota enim in planiciem sternitur. Illic inter vetustissimas arbores vidimus sacras
quercus, quae dicatae fuerant deo terrae illius Proven, quas ambiebat atrium et sepes
accuratior lignis constructa, continens duas portas. Preter penates enim et ydola, quibus
singula oppida redundabant, locus ille sanctimonium fuit universae terrae, cui flamen et
feriaciones et sacrificiorum varii ritus deputati fuerant. Illic omni secunda feria populus
terrae cum regulo et flamine convenire solebant propter iudicia”. The word illic is in bold
here as it will be necessary in further analysis, see below, p. 336.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 331
332 Moszyński, Kultura, pp. 527 f., emphasized the priority of the oak over other trees wor-
shipped by the Slavs, which similarly to the cult of trees as such was of Indo-European
heritage in their religion, which was ascertained already by James George Frazer, The
Golden Bough. A Study of Magic and Religion (Abridged Ed. 1922, Adelaide: University of
Adelaide, https://ebooks.adelaide.edu.au/f/frazer/james/golden/chapter15.html), chap-
ter 15: The Worship of the Oak. For comparison, it is worth mentioning that Herbord (II, 32)
confirmed that in Szczecin (Stettin), at the time of Otto of Bamberg’s mission, there was
an enormous oak with a bubbling spring next to it (“quercus ingens et frondosa, et fons
subter eam amenissimus”). The credibility of this information is disputable (see Rosik,
Conversio, pp. 271–274), however, it is essential that in this case even a very general con-
viction that the so called barbarians practiced a cult of the oak. The information about
the spring in this context evokes a mythical vision of a tree in the centre of the world re-
lated also with the notion of a cosmic mountain, see Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 152. Similarly
in Lithuania at the time of Christianization in the 15th c., according to Aeneas Sylvius
Piccolomini’s account, the oldest oak in a forest was considered an abode of the deity,
ibidem, pp. 89 f.
333 In Rus’ according to Old Russian writing, oak forests were to be hierophanies of the thun-
der deity (Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 91). It is worth mentioning that Perun was worshipped in
Veliky Novgorod in the place called Perynia – ibidem, p. 53 ff.; Rybakov, Jazyčestvo drevnej
Rusi, pp. 210, 252–258; cf. Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” p. 129. Similarly the Balts worshipped
the oak as a tree of the thunder deity called Perkun (from ‘perk-’, ‘herk-’; comp. Lat. ‘quer-
cus’). Starting the cult fire in Lithuania by rubbing oak trees against grey stones was still
mentioned in the 17th c. (see Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 86 f.). This evokes an association
with a conviction well known in old communities that oak wood attracts thunders much
better than other types of wood and exactly this characteristic is taken into account as
an explanation of the genesis of its cult. On the basis of research on folklore, Moszyński,
Kultura, p. 528, doubted, however, that the Slavs knew about these properties of oaks.
334 The version Prone is contained in the so called Szczecin (Stettin) manuscript of Helmold’s
work – see a commentary in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 244, footnote 678.
335 According to this concept, Prove, worshipped in an oak grove, was the major god which
was a mutation or hypostasis of Perun or even identified with him (if one assumes that
the Prone version is original). See Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 91; Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,”
p. 129; Szafrański, Prahistoria, pp. 381, 412. Cf. Kulišić, Stara Slovenska religija, pp. 68, 163 ff.;
Eliade, A History, vol. 3, pp. 30 f.
336 Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 115, 186 f.; Łowmiański, Religia, p. 219; cf. Niederle, Żivot,
p. 98. Moszyński, Die vorchristliche Religion, p. 71, assumed that Prove’s prototype was
332 Chapter 4
attribution of the rule over thunder to the Wagrian deity first of all should be
based on the dedication of sacred oaks to it.
As it seems to result from the quoted passage they grew in an atrium (atri-
um) surrounded by a tight-knit wooden fence, in which there were two gates.337
Their front parts were covered with ornaments, whose counterparts were indi-
cated in analogous sacral decorations (also Christian) discovered in the north-
west of Slavdom.338 These ornaments must have not only had aesthetic value
but also symbolized the presence of magical forces that guarded the sanctuary,339
which in this case was a fenced cultic grove (lucus).340 Worshipping these
kinds of holy places was confirmed by Helmold in summary remarks about the
religion of the Slavs. An important analogy in this case was Thietmar’s infor-
mation about the “Holy Grove” (Zutibure).341 The cult of groves played a special
role in the religion of the Balts, which should be emphasized due to temporal
and geographic closeness of this analogy.342
On the basis of the quoted passage, operationally one should also take into
account the possibility that it was not an atrium (atrium) to be surrounded by
a fence (sepes), but only the oaks. Then this atrium would mean a clearing on
which there was a wooden fence around holy trees. However, the hypothesis
Celtic Borvo (cf. idem, “Staropołabski teonim,” p. 39), however, he did not present any con-
vincing circumstances of this borrowing – see Bednarczuk, “W co wierzyli Prasłowianie?,”
p. 26.
337 See Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, p. 161.
338 According to Werner Neugebauer, “Der Burgwall Alt-Lübeck, Geschichte, Stand und
Aufgaben,” Offa 21/22 (1964/1965), p. 223, il. 51, 52, Helmold used this phrase, on the basis
of his experience, associating it with decorations known to him from cathedral doors,
such as the ones discovered in Old Lübeck; the same Hensel, Słowiańszczyzna, p. 245.
Ornaments could be anthropomorphic – realistic (like in Behren-Lübchin) or more sche-
matic (like in Gross Raden) – and geometrical ones.
339 See e.g. Hensel, Słowiańszczyzna, p. 493.
340 Helmold I, 84: “Venientibus autem nobis ad nemus illud et profanacionis locum adhor-
tatus est nos episcopus, ut valenter accederemus ad destruendum lucum” [emphasis –
S.R.]. Therefore Gerold’s companions came to the forest (nemus) and “the desecration
place” (certainly due to the pagan cult), and after bishop’s encouragement, they started
to destroy the cult grove (lucus). Hence the fence determined strict borders of this sa-
cred place, which, by the way, perfectly corresponds with the etymology of the Slavic
word “gaj” (grove) – where one can hear the verb ‘gajiti’, ‘gaić’, i.e. ‘ogradzać’ (fence), see
Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 221. Rytter, “O badaniach,” p. 133, makes it more precise and claims
that “gaj” was a prat of space in the forest which was ritually extracted as a place where
old ancestors stayed. Cf. Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 321.
341 Thietmar also used the word lucus to refer to the holy grove, see above, pp. 145 ff.
342 There are testimonies from the 13th c., of Petrus Dusburg, see: Piotr z Dusburga, Kronika
ziemi pruskiej, ed. Jarosław Wenta, Sławomir Wyszomirski, MPH n.s. 13 (Kraków: Polska
Akademia Umiejętności, 2007), III, 52.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 333
that there was a fence around the atrium is supported by information found
later in the text about the “fence of the atrium” (septa atrii), which importantly
was destroyed by bishop Gerold and his companions after they broke the gates
and entered the atrium: “He jumped off the horse and smashed adorned fronts
of the gates himself. Then we entered the courtyard, took down the wooden
fence and piled it up in one place around the sacred trees to form a bonfire
stack …”343 Therefore if gates led to the atrium, it seems most accurate to as-
sume that its palisade (septa atrii) should be identified with a fence (sepes), in
which the gates were assembled.344
The grove described by Helmold was probably located four kilometers away
from Starigard on a hill later called Wienberg near Putlos.345 It was most cer-
tainly a religious centre, not only for the region of Starigard but also for the
whole Wagrian territory (“universa terra”).346 This view is supported by an ear-
lier collation of Prove with Siwa and Redigast,347 who appeared as patrons of
the two tribes: Polabians and Obodrites. The sanctuary was also most certainly
one of the poles of political and religious power in the tribal ecumene, much
like Starigard.348 This stronghold dominated the flat area surrounding it, as it
was located on a hill which was about a dozen meters high. From the end of
the 7th c. to the 12th c., apart from the duke’s abode, there also existed a pre-
Christian cult centre.349
343 Helmold I, 84: “Ipse quoque desiliens equo contrivit de conto insignes portarum frontes,
et ingressi atrium omnia septa atrii congessimus circum sacras illas arbores et de strue
lignorum iniecto igne fecimus pyram …”
344 This is also why it seems rather improbable that in the opinion of the chronicler there
were two fences: sepes around the oaks with one gate and septa around the atrium
with the second gate. Although such ideas were also taken into account, see Leszek P.
Słupecki, “Sanktuaria w świecie natury u Słowian i Germanów. Święte gaje i ich bogowie,”
in Człowiek, sacrum, środowisko. Miejsca kultu we wczesnym średniowieczu, ed. Sławomir
Moździoch (Spotkania Bytomskie) 4 (Wrocław: Werk, 2000), p. 42.
345 Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” 128. For the role of Starigard in the Obodrite land, see idem,
“Główne problem,” p. 178; idem, Miasta Słowian, pp. 51–53, and according to the index.
346 Leciejewicz, “>>In Pago,” p. 128.
347 Helmold I, 52 – see below, pp. 306 ff.
348 Banaszkiewicz, “Jedność porządku,” passim; idem, Polskie dzieje, pp. 414 f.
349 In this place there was also a church erected in the 10th c. and destroyed by returning
native religion in the 11th c. See: Ingo Gabriel, Torsten Kempke, Starigard/Oldenburg.
Hauptburg der Slawen in Wagrien VI. Die Grabfunde. Einführung und archäologisches
Material, (Offa-Bücher) 85 (Neumünster: Wachholtz, 2011); cf. Felix Biermann, “Rezension:
I. Gabriel, T. Kempke, Starigard/Oldenburg. Hauptburg der Slawen in Wagrien VI. Die
Grabfunde (Neumünster 2011),” Prähistorische Zeitschrift 87 (2012), pp. 208–210; and also:
Ingo Gabriel, “Strukturwandel in Starigard/Oldenburg während der zweiten Hälfte des
10. Jahrhunderts auf Grund archäologischer Befunde: Slawische Fürstenherrschaft, otton-
ischer Bischofssitz, heidnische Gegenbewegung,” Zeitschrift für Archäologie18, (1984) 1,
334 Chapter 4
Helmold’s claim that the sanctuary with Prove’s oaks was related to the
place where judgements were made at assemblies taking place “every Monday”
has been widely discussed by scholars. According to A. Brückner this informa-
tion constitutes evidence of a misunderstanding as a result of which the name
of the deity was erroneously formed with reference to judgment (law – Slavic
‘prawo’).350 This extremely skeptical position did not gain general acceptance
of researchers of the Slavic religion.351 The conflux of the name Prove and the
word “prawo” (law) was taken into account as a premise for considering this
theonym as a nickname concealing sanctity (taboo), and formed in connec-
tion with making judgments near his cult oaks.352
It should also be emphasized that the Starigard god appeared on the pages of
the chronicle two more times with the same name, which proves that Helmold
knew it well. Moreover, he wrote about Prove’s cult on the basis of his own ex-
perience related to its elimination. The importance of the personal experience
of the chronicler in the assessment of his credibility was appreciated by Karol
Modzelewski, who assumed that researchers’ skepticism related to the infor-
mation about the deity resulted from prejudice about the substantial value of
the discussed passage, which in any case were not groundless.353
The information about judgements made during the mass meeting “every
Monday” (“omni secunda feria”) has often raised doubts. A. Brückner consid-
ered this information as “a misunderstanding typical of Helmold,”354 which
pp. 63–80; idem, “Starigard/Oldenburg im 11. und 12. Jahrhundert: neue Strukturelemente
im Gessellschaft und Kultur,” in Miasto zachodniosłowiańskie w XI–XII wieku.
Społeczeństwo – kultura, ed. Lech Leciejewicz (Wrocław: Ossolineum 1991), pp. 169–188;
see also above p. 148, footnote 478. Certainly this cult place should be related to the figure
of “Saturn”, mentioned by Widukind, and robbed by the conquerors of Starigard in 967
(see above, pp. 54 f.).
350 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 45; cf. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 46, 154,
187.
351 See Strzelczyk, Mity, p. 165.
352 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 183. With literary fervour Ackenheil, Gottheiten, p. 33, imagined
even an invocation “Oh holy law!”, which would provide a substitute name for the god.
It is worth paying attention in these investigations that in the 11th and 12th c. in Polabia
and Pomerania a new generation of divine names appeared (not necessarily new deities).
Except for commonly occurring theonyms ending with “-vit” there was Triglav, whose
name was connected with the shape of his statue. It is hard to exclude the possibility that
such “deification” was applied to the law, but this is only speculation.
353 Karol Modzelewski, “Omni secunda feria. Księżycowe roki i nieporozumienia wokół
Helmolda,” in Słowiańszczyzna w Europie średniowiecznej. Księga pamiątkowa dla Lecha
Leciejewicza, vol. 1: Plemiona i wczesne państwa, ed. Zofia Kurnatowska (Wrocław: IAE
PAN, 1996), pp. 83 f., 87.
354 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 200.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 335
exactly this judicial meeting was held, especially if one takes into consider-
ation a consolidated view in the scholarly debate that it took place in the said
atrium surrounded by a fence. However, it is hard to combine this idea with a
further claim made by Helmold that access to the so determined sacred space
was offered only to priests and people who wanted to make offerings or to use
this place as a life-saving asylum.361 In this situation K. Modzelewski even stat-
ed that the deliberations of the assembly were preceded by a collective offer-
ing that allowed all the gathered people to enter the sanctuary.362
It seems more justifiable to reconsider the validity of a view assuming that
the meeting was held in the said atrium. In this case the most important issue
is the interpretation of the word illic in the expression: “Illic omni secunda
feria populus terrae cum regulo et flamine convenire solebant propter iudicia,”
which precedes the information about the limited access to the sanctuary.363
It is rather probable that the said “there” (illic) does not refer to the very cult
grove (lucus), but to the whole forest (nemus), in which it was located. This
explanation is fostered by the appearance of the word illic earlier in the same
passage, and then it refers to nemus and, which is essential, also the way the
narration was arranged allowed the assumption that this second use of illic in
this passage also referred to this forest.364
The key element in the interpretation of the presented description is the dif-
ferentiation of meanings of nemus and lucus, which – especially because of the
currently popular Polish translation of the text, in which both terms were trans-
lated into one word: “gaj” (grove)365 – at the current stage of discussion on the
topography of Prove’s sanctuary is no longer so obvious. As a result, both
of these words – lucus and nemus – in the discussed passage referred to one
and the same forest complex. The solution proposed here, however, assumes
that judgements were made in the nemus, forest, probably on a clearing, near
the sanctuary with oaks (lucus) surrounded by a palisade. If meetings were
connected with offerings, it is possible to assume that access to the sanctuary
was allowed only for selected representatives of the assembly.
361 Helmold I, 84, p. 159 f. “Ingressus atrii omnibus inhibitus nisi sacerdoti tantum et sacrifi-
care volentibus, vel quos mortis urgebat periculum, his enim minime negabatur asilum.”
(“Entrance to atrium was prohibited to all except for the priest, those who wished to make
a sacrifice and to those who feared for their lives as those were never denied asylum”). Cf.
Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 223.
362 Modzelewski, Barbarzyńska Europa, p. 375.
363 See above, p. 330 and footnote 331.
364 See above footnote 340 in this chapter.
365 Helmolda Kronika, p. 330.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 337
366 Helmold I, 84: “Tantam enim sacris suis Slavi exhibent reverentiam, ut ambitum fani nec
in hostibus sanguine pollui sinant”.
367 Helmold I, 84: “Iuraciones difficillime admittunt, nam iurare apud Slavos quasi periurare
est ob vindicem deorum iram.”
368 Helmold I, 84. The context of the information about these practices is important, namely
emphasis on a ban imposed on the converted people, which indicates that they were not
rare. See below, pp. 322, 354 f.
369 J. Strzelczyk w: Helmolda Kronika, p. 330, footnote 1010.
370 Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 235 f., in the discussion on this information, he ascertained that
according to the Slavs, their gods showed indifference to human sins; in this imagery,
gods were not interested in the fact of breaking oaths, but only in showing faithfulness
to gods themselves. This is why the Slavs swore by trees, stones and sources not to offend
gods. This association is quite distant from the content of the source.
338 Chapter 4
371 Helmold I, 84: “Est autem Slavis multiplex ydolatriae modus, non enim omnes in eandem
superstitionis consuetudinem consentiunt. Hii enim simulachrorum ymaginarias formas
pretendunt de templis, veluti Plunense ydolum, cui nomen Podaga, alii silvas vel lucos
inhabitant, ut est Prove deus Aldenburg, quibus nullae sunt effigies expressae. Multos
etiam duobus vel tribus vel eo amplius capitibus exculpunt.”
372 Cf. Helmold, I, 2; I, 46. See also above pp. 239 f., 304.
373 E. Wienecke assumed that the chronicler’s information about polycephalic Slavic statues
was a rumour resulting from a topographic error related to Szczecin. The three-headed
Triglav was to be created from words referring to three Szczecin hills, i.e. Old Slavic ‘gława’
(head, hill), and so a city on three hills – ‘urbs triglavi’ became a city of the deity called
‘Triglous’, etc. This trend to exaggerate the horribleness of pagan idols was to give rise to
other numbers of Slavic gods’ heads in Christian imagination and exactly this general
information offered by Helmold on this matter, in the opinion of the German scholar was
to confirm that there were such rumours around. See Wienecke, Untersuchungen, pp. 145
ff., especially 148.
374 Meriggi, Il concetto, pp. 166 f.; Pettazzoni, Wszechwiedza, pp. 224 ff.
375 V P II, 11–12; Ebo II, 1; Herbord II, 32–33; cf. e.g. S. Rosik, Conversio, pp. 258–270.
376 According to Henry of Antwerp (the last decades of the 12th c.) in Brandenburg “idolum
detestabile tribus capitibus honoratum a deceptis hominibus quasi pro deo colebatur.” –
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 339
polycephalic idols.377 However, one should not count on finding them – in the
light of sources as they were all annihilated.
In polycephalic archaeological findings one should pay attention to a
double-headed fragment of a cult figure from Fischerinsel near Neubrande
burg, dated to the 11th–12th c. According to some scholars, it can be a part of
a four-headed whole statue.378 Moreover, some light is cast on the problem of
see Henrici de Antwerpe Tractatus de captione urbis Brandenburgensis, ed. Oskar Holder-
Egger, MGH SS 25 (1880), p. 482. Other information on the matter: Excerptum chronicae
principum Saxonie, ed. Oskar Holder-Egger, MGH SS 25 (1880), pp. 480 f.; Chronicae epis-
copatus Brandenburgensis fragmenta, ed. Oskar Holder-Egger, MGH SS 25 (1880), pp. 484
f. The location of the idol is disputable: an open cult space is supported by Th. Palm, a
temple by L. Leciejewicz. L.P. Słupecki proposed a location inside the sanctuary on a hill
away from the city, although it cannot be excluded that it was located in the stronghold.
Elimination of the statue and most certainly many others took place either in 1127 under
the rule of the duke of Stodorane Pribislav-Henry (see K. Myśliński, “Przybysław-Henryk,”
in SSS, vol. 4, pp. 399 f.; Michael Lindner, Widekind, Meinfried, Pribislaw/Heinrich und
andere – das südliche Lutizenland in der ersten Hälfte des 12. Jahrhunderts, [in:] Bischof
Otto von Bamberg in Pommern. Historische und archäologische Forschungen zu Mission
und Kulturverhältnissen des 12. Jahrhunderts, ed. Felix Biermann, Fred Ruchhöft, (Studien
zur Archäologie Europas) 30 (Bonn: Habelt, 2017), pp. 49–67), or later during the actions
undertaken by Albert the Bear (1150). For discussion see Palm, Wendische Kultstäten,
pp. 94–97; Kahl, Heidenfrage und Slawenfrage, pp. 565–576 (chapter: “Das ende des Triglaw
von Brandenburg. Ein Beitrag zur Religionspolitik Albrechts des Bären”); Leciejewicz,
Słowianie, p. 222; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 202 f.; Lübke, “Zwischen
Triglav,” p. 22.
377 See below, pp. 357–359.
378 The discussion on the 65-centimetre long fragment of a cult figure refers to establishing
whether these are two twin idols, e.g. a pair of divine twins known in Indo-European, e.g.
Celtic, religions (see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 66, 68; Rosen-Przeworska, “Celtycka
geneza,” p. 265), or possibly according to the finders of this relic and its alleged second part
Gringmuth-Dallmer/Hollnagel, “Jungslawische Siedlung,” p. 229: “das 1.78 m hohe Idol aus
Eichenholz zeigt auf einen mehrkantigen Säulenschaft den Oberkörper einer doppelköp-
figen Menschenfigur”, which seems more probable; cf. Die Slawen in Deutschland, p. 312.
Witold Hensel, “Jak wyglądał posąg arkońskiego Svantevita,” Slavia Antiqua 39 (1983),
pp. 119–125, assumed that the statue was of key significance in the reconstruction of the
Arkona Svantevit, which was to be a double form of this twin representation. An identical
idea was presented earlier by the artist Szymon Kobyliński (Marek Konopka, “Światowit
z teki Szymona Kobylińskiego,” Z otchłani wieków 23 (1975), pp. 174 f.). Another image
of the Arkona idol was presented by J. Herrman: Die Slawen in Deutschland, p. 308. See
also Fred Ruchhöft, Die Burg am Kap Arkona – Götter, Macht und Mythos, (Archäologie
in Mecklenburg-Vorpommern) 7 (Schwerin: Landesamt für Kultur und Denkmalpflege,
2016), pp. 85 f.
340 Chapter 4
379 For “sviatovid” from Wolin see Filipowiak, Wojtasik, “Światowit z Wolina,” pp. 85 f.; Hensel,
“Wczesnośredniowieczna figurka,” p. 15. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, pp. 214 f., saw traces
of a “lower” religion (faith in demons) in small figure findings.
380 Dozens of historical monuments related to the Viking penetration circle (from the British
Isles to the eastern coast of the Baltic) are accompanied with rich illustration material:
Jan Peder Lamm, “On the cult of multiple-headed gods in England and in the Baltic area,”
Przegląd Archeologiczny 34 (1987), pp. 219–231; Janusz Kotlarczyk, “Słonecznego boga
miejsca kultu,” Z otchłani wieków 54 (1988), 2/3/4, pp. 159 f., 166; Filipowiak, “Słowiańskie
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 341
wierzenia,” pp. 28 ff.; Andris Caune, “Archäologische Zeugnisse von den heidnischen
Volksglauben in Riga während des 12–13 Jahrhunderts,” Światowit 40 (1995), pp. 26–42;
Rosik, Udział, pp. 34–43.
381 Literature devoted to Sviatovid from the Zbruch is enormous (for an extensive list see
Zygmunt Krzak, “Światowid co i kogo przedstawia?,” Problemy (1992) 8, p. 30. Basic studies
are presented by Leńczyk, “Światowid zbruczański,” and Szymański, “Posąg ze Zbrucza.”
See also below footnote 495. The alleged – rather questioned now – initial location of the
obelisk was proposed by Irina P. Rusanova, Boris A. Timoshchuk, “Zbruchskoye svyatil-
ishche.” “Sovetskaya Archeologia” (1986) 4, pp. 90–99; iidem, “Vtoroye zbruchskoye (kruti-
lovskoye) svjatilishche (po materyalam raskopok 1985 g.),” in Drevnosti slavyan i Rusi, ed.
Boris A. Timoshhuk (Moskva: Nauka, 1988), pp. 78–91; Rybakov, Jazyczestvo drewniej Rusi,
pp. 236–251; cf. Janusz Kotlarczyk, “Triumfalny słup słonecznego boga,” Z otchłani wieków
53 (1987) 1, pp. 36–41; idem, “W poszukiwaniu genezy wielotwarzowych wyobrażeń
Światowita, Świętowita, Rujewita i innych,” in Wierzenia przedchrześcijańskie na zie-
miach polskich, ed. Marian Kwapiński, Henryk Paner (Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Muzeum
Archeologicznego w Gdańsku, 1993), pp. 56–64; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries,
pp. 215–223. It is worth emphasizing that the debate is related to establishing whether
Sviatovid in his upper part (i.e. the heavenly one) represents the only highest multiple-
headed god, or a few divine creatures. Cf. Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 231 ff.; Adam Łapiński,
“Światowid czy model świata?,” Z otchłani wieków 50 (1984) 2, pp. 128–139; Rosik, Udział,
p. 44–48. Other relics from eastern Rus’ areas are considered the so-called “stone babas”
and relation to the Slavdom is still discussed. See e.g. Włodzimierz Antoniewicz, “Posągi,”
in SSS, vol. 4, pp. 241 f.; Leńczyk, “Światowid zbruczański,” p. 41; Słupecki, Slavonic Pagan
Sanctuaries, pp. 213–215, 221–225.
382 Ebo III, 1; discussion on the matter see Rosik, Conversio, pp. 259 f.
342 Chapter 4
19th c.383 On the other hand, a lunar origin has also been considered.384 The
most popular, however, seems to be in this case a reference to a tripartite divi-
sion of the cosmos.385 Similarly, four-headedness was related to the symbolism
of the four directions of the world, the cardinal winds, and the seasons of the
year.386 Generally, the symbolism of three – and four-headedness was related
to the universality of world models of the cosmos and man (psychological
aspect).387
Moreover, a larger number of faces and heads was justified in regard to
mythical motifs388 or to the development of the numerical symbolism.389
Referring the shape of images and especially their multi-headedness to various
divine roles is a widely accepted possibility. A polymorphic figure in this case
would be a counterpart for a few single-headed gods.390 There was also an idea
that the larger number of heads indicated the augmentation of power in the
presented gods.391 Finally, the symbolism of polycephalism was considered as
392 Vernardski, The origins of Russia, pp. 32, 119, explained multiple faces of statues with the
influence of shamanism; see also Włodzimierz Demetrykiewicz, Altertümliche stein-
erne Statuen, sog. “Baby” (Steinmütterchen, Becherstatuen) in Asien und Europa und ihr
Verhältnis zur slawischen Mythologie, Extrait du Bulletin de l’Académie des Sciences de
Cracovie (1910) (Kraków, 1911), p. 115.
393 For the influence of Christian ideas see below, footnotes 399, 400. For a more extensive
discussion on polycephalism symbolism see Rosik, Udział, pp. 58–63. Ibidem, pp. 74 ff. on
attempts to find further solutions.
394 Supporters of native genesis of polycephalism in the Pomeranian area are: A. Brückner,
Mitologia słowiańska i polska, pp. 47, 196; Labuda, “Rec. E. Wienecke,” p. 464; Mikołaj
Rudnicki, “Bóstwa lechickie,” Slavia Occidentalis 5 (1926), pp. 414–416; Antoniewicz,
“Religia dawnych Słowian,” pp. 369–373; Meriggi, “Il concetto,” pp. 169 f. In this group of
scholars there are also supporters of Christian genesis of polycephalism of statues, claim-
ing that it was the Slavic response to the Church doctrine on the Holy Trinity; see below,
footnote 399. For an account of the discussion on the genesis of polycephalic divine im-
ages among the western Slavs see e.g. Rosik, Udział, pp. 52–58; Kotlarczyk, “W poszukiwa-
niu,” pp. 58 f.
395 See e.g. Demetrykiewicz, Altertümliche steinerne Statuen, pp. 104–115; Władysław
Łęga, Kultura Pomorza we wczesnym średniowieczu na podstawie wykopalisk (Toruń:
Towarzystwo Naukowe w Toruniu, 1930), p. 275; Gąssowski, Kult, p. 579.
396 Through Southern European cultures (see e.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 65) and di-
rectly (see Janina Rosen-Przeworska/Włodziemierz Szafrański, “W sprawie policefalizmu
bóstw nadbałtyckich,” in Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami a Polską. Materiały
z konferencji naukowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w dniach 28–29 IV
1980 r., ed. J. Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), pp. 255 f.; Janina Rosen-
Przeworska“Celtycka geneza niektórych wątków wierzeniowych i ikonograficznych u
Słowian zachodnich,” in Słowiańszczyzna Połabska między Niemcami a Polską. Materiały
z konferencji naukowej zorganizowanej przez Instytut Historii UAM w dniach 28–29 IV
1980 r., ed. J. Strzelczyk (Poznań: Wydawnictwo UAM, 1981), pp. 259–262; cf. Szafrański,
Prahistoria, p. 232).
397 I.e. Dacians, Thracians – according to this concept they had impact through Podolia and
from there to Pomerania (see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 71; cf. Szafrański, Prahistoria,
pp. 255 f.; Krzak, “Światowid,” p. 30).
398 See Lamm, “On the cult,” p. 230 f.; cf. Rosik, Udział, p. 56.
344 Chapter 4
of late phase of Slavic religion,399 however, this view can hardly be defended at
the current state of research. Still, the very influence of Christian beliefs is still
worth being taken into account as a factor which could support the spreading
of the cult of polycephalic figures among the Slavs.400
Going back to the Helmold’s chronicle, the attention is drawn to the iden-
tification of a Slavic deity named Podaga with an idol, which was a way of in-
terpreting the pagan sacrum in biblical categories.401 In historical scholarship,
there were attempts to connect the name of the supernatural character treated
in this way, Podaga, with the “Pogoda” (“The Weather”) mentioned by Joannes
Dlugossius. The answer to the question of whether “Pogoda” in the 15th c. is a
misspelt version of Podaga, remains in the sphere of doubtful speculation.402 It
is thus even more difficult to prove that such a mistake took place in Helmold’s
account.
Another direction of hypothetical explications related to the name of a
deity worshipped in Plön was related to the etymology of the root “-dag” ex-
plained as “burn.”403 In this context W. Budziszewska indicated a possibility
of interpreting Podaga’s function as a domestic fire goddess.404 Possibly the
same root can be heard in the name Dadźbog (Dażbog)405 – acceptance of this
solution would locate Podaga in the circle of deities originating from Svarog.
L. Moszyński presented an opposing view. He saw in the name of the idol from
399 In the 19th c. e.g. A. Kirpichnikow (view quoted after: Niederle, Żivot, p. 150); Brückner,
Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 206; Rudnicki, “Bóstwa lechickie,” p. 414; recently the
most information in Łowmiański, Religia, pp. 195 ff.; idem, “Zagadnienie politeizmu,”
pp. 683–685.
400 Detailed criticism of findings related to the Christian genesis of Triglav and Svantevit,
see Rosik, Udział, pp. 66–74. See also Kahl, Heidenfrage und Slawenfrage, pp. 80–144; and
below, pp. 366 f.
401 On this matter see also above, pp. 99 ff.
402 Brückner, Dzieje kultury, p. 139, suspected that Dlugossius found Podaga through the
chronicle of Jan Czarnków, which during his stay in Schwerin where he was a canon, had
an opportunity to read Helmold’s work; cf. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 47. See also
above, p. 307.
403 Mikołaj Rudnicki, “Polskie Dagome iudex i Wagryjska >>Podaga<<,” Slavia Occidentalis
7 (1928), pp. 158 f., he also tried to find a connection between the theonym Podaga with
the name Dago (allegedly another name of Polish ruler Mieszko I), which did not earn
recognition in further discussion – see e.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 47.
404 Wanda Budziszewska, “Wagryjska Podaga i ślady kultu ognia u Słowian,” Rocznik
Slawistyczny 44 (1983) 1, pp. 13–15. The authoress indicates that except for the root “dag-”,
there is also a contiguity: “gag-”, so in this concept there can occur “Pogaga” as a lection of
the idol’s name known from the Vienna manuscript, which raised doubts in an igneous
interpretation of deities based on the root “dag”, see Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 185.
405 Antoniewicz, Religia, p. 554. Jakobson sees in Podaga a transformation of the alleged
“Dabog” – by some identified with Dazbog, for discussion see Gieysztor, Mitologia,
pp. 178 f.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 345
Plön the word “potęga” (power), to associate it ultimately with the “mighty god
of gods,” known from chapter 84 of Helmold’s work (praepotens deus deorum).406
This proposal raises doubts because the said chronicler rather suggested that
this sovereign of heavens never received worship from people.407
A lack of clarity related to the name of Podaga led even to a hypothetical
opinion that he (or it) was a pseudo-deity.408 It is hard to accept this solution,
given that Helmold wrote about the times and matters that were important
and relevant to him. Most certainly the very name of the deity given in the
chronicle is a reflection of some real name, and its possible deformation in the
source should not eliminate the conviction of his existence. Taking into ac-
count the fact that Podaga was not a patron of a whole tribe – this was Prove’s
rank – one should assume that the cult of this deity was local, concentrated
around a particular stronghold,409 or a neighbourly territorial community
(maybe the so called opole).410 This corresponds with Helmold’s information
that the Slavs located their idols in particular settlements.411
The most valuable passage in the discussed chapter from the perspective
of the synthesis of the Slavic religion seems to be the summary information:
“Among the polymorphic shapes of gods that are believed to take care of the
fields, forests, sorrows and joys, they do not deny that there exists one god in
heaven that commands others. [They believe] this prepotent god is looking
after the divine matters only, while the others are his servants, born from his
blood and among them all other matters are divided. And the more important
one is, the closer one to the mighty god of gods.”412
the very influence of conventions related to the culture of the epoch on the
way of presenting this information.418 An analogy between their content is vis-
ible mainly in the domination of the one god over all the other supernatural
creatures.419 Nonetheless, the details of both pieces of information do not fa-
vour identification of the “demiurge of lightning (thunder)” with the “god of
gods,” because the latter one was not supposed to take care of earthly things
and no offerings were made to him.
This is a reminder of a synthetic assessment made by Eliade, that the cre-
ators of the heavens and the whole cosmos in world mythologies tend to dis-
appear from cult (but not from mythology) to leave space for more dynamic
religious forces, among which the sun is frequently mentioned. On the other
hand the scholar made a reservation that in some circumstances – for reasons
related to agriculture and agrarian religions – the god of heavens gains a new
role as the sovereign of the pantheon and simultaneously the god of the atmo-
sphere and thunders.420 Both of these directions in reflection on the fate of
the heavenly father correspond well with the basic trends in the search for the
genesis of the “god of gods” mentioned by Helmold.
A. Gieysztor – very cautiously – indicated the possibility that the “demiurge
of lightning” was actually Perun, who managed to swallow the competences
and functions of the “god of gods.” In this case Perun – in accordance with
Eliade’s conclusions – would either be an updated version of the heavenly
sovereign, or the one who ousted him from earthly activity (just like e.g. Zeus
who superseded Uranus). However, this direction assumes that the routes of
Eastern and Polabian Slavdom parted in terms of changes in the pantheon,
because the mysterious heavenly father captured in Helmold’s work is not a
type of deus otiosus, who lost his sovereign position in the pantheon, but nor
is he Perun’s counterpart, because he does not have any earthly roles and does
not receive any cult.421
418 E.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 22; Kiersnowska, Kiersnowski, Życie codzienne, p. 168.
419 Defining the primacy of the heavenly deity captured in both chronicle accounts as he-
noteism (e.g. Urbańczyk, Dawni Słowianie, p. 22; Krzak, “Światowid,” p. 31) does not have
sufficient premises. In the case of Helmold’s work the existence of other gods is unques-
tionable, and calling them semidei is a metaphor and not a reference to nature. In the
case of Procopius’s information, the allegation that there is only one god of the Antes and
Sclavenes is based on a conjecture based on the silence of the source.
420 Eliade, Traktat, pp. 54–57, 106. Cf. Gieysztor, Mitologia, p. 113.
421 Regardless of this, such interpretation of the “god of gods” was considered by Urbańczyk,
Dawni Słowianie, p. 155; Gieysztor, Mitologia, pp. 110–114. Its acceptance means question-
ing the accuracy of Helmold’s information, thus the question arises of why it should not
be considered fairy-tale-like in general. For the matter of deus otiosus see esp. Eliade,
Traktat, pp. 50–54; Widengren, Religionsphänomenologie, p. 46.
348 Chapter 4
In this situation it is worth paying attention to the other track of Slavic be-
liefs’ evolution – marked by Svarog identified with the heavenly radiance.422
He is the only Slavic god about whom there is information that he was the fa-
ther of other deities. They were interpreted, in this case, in a solar way: Dazbog,
for whom there is testimony in Rus’, or Svarožic known in Polabia.423 In these
optics the myth of the “god of gods” presented by Helmold refers to Svarog,
and his major position in the cult was next taken by Perun or Svarožic (based
in both of these cases on different rules).424 The progressing disintegration of
cults in Polabia was connected with the creation of new forms of major deities
after Svarožic, yet memory about the father of gods survived.
Although it was neglected in the editions of the chronicle, it is essential
to mention that the reference of the title “deus deorum” to the highest Slavic
divinity most certainly is the chronicler’s invention. He simply borrowed this
title from the Latin (Vulgata) version of Psalm 50.425 The use of this term in the
context which is not related to the Bible – in chapter 84 of the chronicle deus
deorum turns out to be the main character in theogony – allows, however, one
to find the real Slavic deity in interpretatio biblica disguise.
However, the chronicler’s emphasis on the significance of this heavenly fa-
ther is an example of using the measure of Christian doctrine in description
of the native Slavic beliefs, which is indicated in the way in which this mythi-
cal character is presented. The statement that the Slavs “non diffitentur unum
deum in celis,” hence “they do not deny that there is one god in heaven,” indi-
cates that there were attempts to look for traces of monotheism in Polabian
beliefs. It is possible even to make a supposition that behind the said formula-
tion there is a view that pagans originally gained recognition of the Creator,
but they abandoned worshipping him as a result of their sins and turned to
idols and his creatures.426
This theological conviction permeated to the first studies of the religion of
the Slavs, and a good example here is the reflections of Joachim Lelewel in the
mid-19th c., as the motto of his sketch entitled “Bałwochwalstwo Sławiańskie”
[Slavic Idolatry] was simply Helmold’s statement: “non diffitentur unum
deum,” used to prove with eloquence the worth of medieval historiography
that the “sprained” human mind lost the knowledge of the initial revelation
and started to invent quirky miracles. It departed from the original cognition
of the creator.427 Lelewel’s views correspond with the theory of the so-called
primeval monotheism in 20th c. religious studies.428 However, they were based
on stricte theological premises, which bring them much closer to Helmold’s
worldview.
In the case of this chronicler, emphasis on the possible survival of traces
of faith in the only God, the heavenly Father, among the Slavs would not only
be an expression of following a particular theological idea supporting the pri-
meval cognition of the Creator by pagans, but it would also be important in
promotion of the idea of missions among them. This would indicate the con-
tact point between their beliefs and Christian ones, which was a very useful
motif in missionary catechesis. One should thus take into account especially
the selective presentation of Polabian beliefs in the discussed passage of the
chronicle, not only due to possible poor recognition of the foreign culture by
the author, but also due to a variety of issues conditioning the view of the alien
sacrum in such a way that it emphasized the content that was especially im-
portant from the pragmatic perspective of this work.
After the lecture on Slavic theology, Helmold places a description of the
elimination of the said grove which he knew from experience, and the way
missionaries acted in this case was striking: the holy oaks survived and only
the disassembled fence was burnt down.429 Hence the very elimination of the
border of the sanctuary space meant its annihilation. The object of missionar-
ies’ aggression was not the trees, but the cult itself.430 The key moment in its
establishment was manifest in the choice of hierophany, by fencing and desa-
cralization that was conducted analogically – through the destruction of the
fence. It is characteristic that the destroyers of the sanctuary were not afraid of
demons acting in the profanated place (locus profanationis), but of the wrath
and stones of its worshippers. Helmold attributed their being saved from mis-
fortune to God’s care.431
Next the chronicler mentions that he was hosted by the Slavs and still re-
membered the “bitterness” of their wine, while he saw shackles and various
torture devices, as well as Christians suffering in slavery.432 When, on Sunday,
the inhabitants of this country gathered at a fair in Lübeck, bishop Gerold
called them “to give up their idols and worship the one God that is in heaven,
and by the grace of baptism to break up with their abominable deeds, such
as plundering and murdering Christians.”433 One should turn attention to the
connection between abandoning idolatry and stopping the persecution of
Christians. In reply the Wagrian duke, Pribislav, justified the behaviour of the
Slavs who had been forced into piracy and looting Christians (sea merchants
and Danes) for the purpose of paying their dues to German dukes. Hence, bap-
tism and the related stoppage of looting created the impossibility of satisfying
obligations imposed by the Saxons, and would therefore mean repressions.
429 Helmold I, 84: “et ingressi atrium omnia septa atrii congessimus circum sacras illas arbo-
res et de strue lignorum iniecto igne fecimus pyram …”
430 Gerold acted in a different way than the Bishop of Merseburg Wigbert (1004–1009), who
according to Thietmar’s chronicle cut down the cult grove (Zutibure). In this difference
of approach to dendrolatry, it is possible to find a change in approach to nature in the
mentality of the 12th c. – see e.g. Rosik, Conversio, p. 541.
431 Helmold I, 84. Destruction work was conducted not without fear of the missionaries
being attacked by exasperated inhabitants, but they survived “thanks to divine protec-
tion” (“… non tamen sine metu, ne forte tumultu incolarum [lapidibus] obrueremur. Sed
divinitus protecti sumus”). Modzelewski, Omni secunda feria, p. 83, emphasized that the
“chronicler personally set his hand to this destruction, he was afraid of losing his life and
so his story vibrates with the experience of fear”.
432 It is not excluded that it was mead called wine.
433 Helmold I, 84: “… ut relictis ydolis colerent unum Deum, qui est in celis, et percepta
baptismatis gratia renuntiarent operibus malignis, predis scilicet et interfectionibus
Christianorum.” This expression “unus Deus, qui est in celis” corresponds with the earlier
information that the Slavs “do not deny it that there is one God in heaven”. Gerold’s mis-
sionary catechesis would refer here to images pagans were familiar with and related to
the heavenly father defined by Helmold in reference with the Vulgate “deus deorum” (see
above, pp. 348 f.).
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 351
In response to this, the bishop quoted another argument, namely that there
was nothing strange in the fact that the German dukes “do not believe they
commit an offence by attacking those who practice idolatry and live with-
out God.”434 He presented the adoption of Christianity as a way to avoid as-
saults, showing as examples the Saxons enjoying peace.435 According to the
chronicler, such an explanation persuaded Pribislav, who agreed to accept
Christianity and pay tithes as long as he received the right to the land he ruled.
It is easy to observe that the statement of the Slavic ruler corresponds with the
concept of Christianization of pagans promoted on the pages of the chronicle,
which supports an assumption that, being a literary character, he expresses
Helmold’s opinions rather than his historical counterpart.
Similarly, the opinion related to the Christian notions expressed by Pribislav,
as well as to biblical allusions, fosters an assumption that strange elements
were imputed to his mentality. This refers especially to the acknowledgement
of Gerold’s words by the duke as “God’s words (…) and appropriate for our
salvation.”436 Certainly, it is hard to count on Helmold’s quotation of the entire
dialogue (if it was not fictitious at all). However, an issue which deserves con-
sideration here is the very attribution of understanding the doctrinal content
of Christianity to the Obodrite ruler. Stanisław Bylina claimed that introduc-
tion of this motif to the chronicle was an anachronism, assuming that the no-
tion of salvation was strange to pre-Christian Slavs.437 However, it is still worth
taking into consideration the possibility that Pribislav, being a representative
of the elite who had frequent contact with Christianity, deviated from the ma-
jority of his subjects in terms of his knowledge of its doctrine.
A description of a debate at a convention in Artlenburg, called by Henry the
Lion and attended also by Slavic dukes (February/March 1156), is a truly useful
resource material for understanding the way in which the sacrum was under-
stood by the Slavs. Henry the Lion gave a speech on the matter of the adoption
of Christianity, and in reply Niklot, an Obodrite duke, said: “May God, who is in
heaven, be your god, and you become our god and for us this will be enough.
Worship him and later we will worship you.”438
The duke obviously interrupted this “blasphemous speech” (verbum blas-
phemiae). A prototype of such deification influencing Helmold’s interpretation
434 Ibidem: “non enim multum se delinquere arbitrantur in ydolatris et in his qui sunt sine
Deo”.
435 Ibidem.
436 Helmold I, 84: “verba Dei […] et saluti nostrae congrua”.
437 Bylina, Człowiek, p. 34.
438 Helmold I, 84: “Sit Deus, qui in celis est, deus tuus, esto tu deus noster, ‘et sufficit nobis’.
Excole tu illum, porro nos te excolemus”. The expression “et sufficit nobis”, cf. Jon 14, 8.
352 Chapter 4
of the cult attributed to Slavs could be the legend of Corvey,439 but such an
apotheosis of the victorious ruler surrounded by a nimbus of a legend finds
also its analogy in the deificatiom of King Eric known from the hagiography
of St. Anskar.440 This example was known to Adam of Bremen,441 and it does
not seem to be only an element of the euhemeristic ideas that influenced the
composition of a literary vision of paganism.442
Helmold’s information also provides an image of the relations in the pan-
theon of Slavs, as long as it encompasses a reflection of the historical reality
of their culture: if God who “art in heaven” recognized by them as “deus deo-
rum” neglected earthly matters, he would not be an object of their interest in
the perspective of cult, while his representative Henry could seem a perfect
candidate for the personification of a divine patron in temporal problems.443
Justification for such a decision was seen in respect for any surplus of power
which was typical of paganism (A. Brückner),444 or – as an analogy – the simi-
lar cult of Roman emperors (L.P. Słupecki),445 or even the specifics of political
relations in Polabia and Pomerania. According to T. and R. Kiersnowski, the
439 See above, pp. 273 ff. The possibility of extensive dissemination of the motif of deification
of people involved in Christianization by pagans in the epoch mentality (e.g. as a test
of missionaries’ humility), which is indicated with reference to St. Adalbert in the 12th-
century hagiography, the so called Tempore illo – see: De sancto Adalberto episcopo, ed.
Wojciech Kętrzyński, in MPH 4 (1884), 12, p. 187 f.
440 V ita Anskarii auctore Rimberto, ed. Georg Waitz, MGH SSrerGerm in usum scholarum
(1884), 26, p. 56: gods themselves were to announce to the Svear: “Ericum quondam regem
vestrum nos unanimes in collegium nostrum asciscimus, ut sit unus de numero deorum”.
In reply to which the Svear declared that “templum in honore supra dicti regis dudum
defuncti statuerunt et ipsi tanquam deo vota et sacrificia offerre ceoperunt.” It is worth
observing that there is a certain conflux of the names of Henry the Lion and the king of
the Svear, because in the Latin text his name was “Hericus”.
441 Adam IV, 26: “Colunt et deos ex hominibus factos, quos pro ingentibus factis immortali-
tate donant, sicut in Vita sancti Ansgarii legitur Hericum regem fecisse.”
442 In the earlier literature e.g. Stanisław Piekarczyk, Barbarzyńcy i chrześcijaństwo.
Konfrontacje społecznych postaw i wzorców u Germanów (Warszawa: PWN, 1968), pp. 344
f., expresses a doubt related to the genuineness of Erik’s deification, but Łowmiański,
Religia, p. 245, is not equally skeptical, although he noticed an element of fiction in in
the mechanism of its creation. Moreover it is worth to stress, that there are also some
premises in the Old Norse poetry and prose indicating that such cases of apotheosis of
a famous person really existed (see lately Olof Sundqvist, An Arena for Higher Powers.
Ceremonial buildings and religious strategies for rulership in Late Iron Age Scandinavia
(Leiden/Boston: Brill 2015), pp. 110–140).
443 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 244, emphasizes that Niklot was a competent person to make an
apotheosis offer, because (at the assembly) being responsible for enforcement of the law
and observation the principles of the religion, he was a cult creating institution.
444 Brückner, Mitologia słowiańska i polska, p. 342.
445 Słupecki, Einflüsse, p. 187.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 353
functions of local gods were the same as earthly monarchs, hence substituting
them with the Saxon duke was not strange at all.446
The arguments presented here to support the truthfulness of the proposed
deification of Henry the Lion by the Slavs refer to the information included
implicite in the text, without taking into consideration the literary convention
of the answer ascribed to Niklot by Helmold. Meanwhile, it is hard to define
precisely what possible form of worship was offered by Niklot to the Saxon
duke, which could be considered divine by the chronicler, having as a model
the legendary example of St. Vitus deified by the Rans.
Certainly, the occurrence of forms of religious worship for the outstanding
leader when he was still alive lies within the limits of probability and given the
close relation between religion and social as well as political life among the
Slavs it should not raise considerable doubts. However, casting a living mortal
in the role of a god, understood as the highest rank of supernatural creatures,
does raise some doubts. The very apotheosis – as is indicated in analogies from
antiquity – seems more certain only after the death of a famous person. On
the other hand, some attributes of divinity could be worshipped during their
lifetime, like in the case of ancient emperors. This possibility can be admitted
without much risk in the discussed situation.
The most probable genesis, therefore, of the strict deification of Henry the
Lion that should be accepted is the literary one. The Saxon duke, involved in
a mission and inspiring respect with his military power, could become one of
the figures related to the sacral sphere and could be given the title of “god” as
an incorporation – in Slavic eyes – of supernatural power, which in Helmold’s
understanding was expressed in the term “deus”.447 Even the rejection of this
hypothesis will not change the fact that from a theological perspective any
worship of man disregarding the Creator was idolatry, which formed a basis
for an attribution to the Obodrites an error of: creaturam anteponere creatori.
Further pages of the chronicle are devoted to efforts made by Bishop Gerold
to save the diocese in Starigard from crisis, and they resulted in another mis-
sionary episode related to this centre. Its hero is the devoted Saxon priest
Bruno, called from Faldera: “Soon after he arrived in Aldenburg, he committed
himself to fulfilling the work of God by summoning the tribe of Slavs to the
divine grace of rebirth [in baptism], by cutting out [divine] groves and destroy-
ing the sacrilegious rites.”448 In the characteristics of Slavic religion there is,
once again, a scheme typical of Helmold: first there is an image of an object
or practice related to cult (lucus, ydolatria, ydolum), and then a wider category
appears, a collective one carrying a theological and moral qualification (super-
stitio, ritus sacrilegi).
The information about the erection, or more precisely, reconstruction of the
church in Starigard was saturated with biblical phraseology with references to
the fiasco of the earlier Christianization – “And the cult of the house of God
was restored among the perverse and abominable nation”.449 This assessment
is yet another example of the corrupt nature of the pagans. Count Adolf, who
was the protector of this missionary activity, required the Slavs to bury their
dead in burial grounds near churches.450 The Slavic burial rite was maintained
among the Christianized people for a long time and the contribution of the
secular authority to its eradication was of essential significance.451
The consequence of Bruno’s pastoral activity, conducted in the language of
the Slavs,452 was that “then the Slavs were prohibited to swear on trees, water
springs and stones, and those accused of crimes were brought in front of the
priest to face a trial by iron or plowshares.”453 This information about a ban
448 Helmold I, 84: “Statim enim, ut venit Aldenburg, aggressus est opus Dei cum magno fer-
vore et vocavit gentem Slavorum ad regenerationis gratiam, succidens lucos et destruens
ritus sacrilegos”.
449 Ibidem: “Et restauratus est cultus domus Dei in medio nacionis pravae et perversae”; cf.
2 Chr 29:35: “cultus domus Domini”; Phil 2:15: “in medio nacionis pravae et perversae”.
450 Helmold I, 84: “ut transferrent mortuos suos tumulandos in atrio ecclesiae”.
451 It is hard to draw any wider conclusions on the character of Slavic burials on the basis of
this information, however, data from other sources can offer some information on this
matter. One should especially mention here Otto of Bamberg’s account on the first his
Pomeranian mission created right after it was completed in 1125 which was recorded by
Ekkehard of Aura the next year at the latest, and next in the hagiography of the Apostle
of Pomeranians (Ekkechardi Uraugiensis chronica, under the year 1125, p. 263; cf. Rosik,
Conversio, pp. 85 ff., 614, 626 f.). It mentions an order to bury the dead in burial grounds
similar to the one mentioned in Helmold’s work, adding not to do it in forests and fields.
452 Helmold I, 84. See Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 211 f. Łowmiański, Religia, p. 268,
claimed that Bruno’s activity was the first certain case of writing a text in a Slavic language
in Polabia using the Latin alphabet (sermons written using Slavic words were delivered
when needed) and he considered this fact as exceptional (cf. Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 3,
p. 205). The view of common lack of knowledge of the Slavic language among missionar-
ies working there, although became very common in scientific literature, does not seem
as justified as it could be suggested by its supporters. For the discussion on this matter
see, pp. 72 f., 76.
453 Helmold I, 84: “inhibiti sunt Slavi de cetero iurare in arboribus, fontibus et lapidibus, sed
offerebant criminibus pulsatos sacerdoti ferro vel vomeribus examinandos”.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 355
454 For the discussion on this matter see above, pp. 337 f.
455 Łowmiański, Religia, p. 207, related swearing by stones with worshipping them; the Slavic
cult of stones is mentioned by Cosmas I, 4; cf. Szafrański, Prahistoria, p. 383; Słupecki,
Slavonic Pagan Sanctuaries, pp. 166 ff. On the stone cult in Pomerania and possibilities of
its confirmation with a rich set of archaeological testimonies see Filipowiak, “Wierzenia
słowiańskie,” pp. 38–41.
456 For comparison it is worth mentioning Thietmar’s description of entering into a peace
treaty by the Liutici with ritual activities without references to cult places, Thietmar VI,
25; see above, pp. 142 ff.
457 Such possibility was emphasized by L. Leciejewicz, “>>In pago,” p. 131, taking into account
that an oath was a part of judiciary proceedings.
458 See Helmold I, 84.
459 A biblical reference, e.g. 2 Kgs13:6.
460 Helmold I, 84.
356 Chapter 4
of Gerold’s successor – his brother Conrad (d. 1172). Although a large part of
this book was devoted to characters important on a European scale, like the
emperor or popes, and next to the bishop of Mecklenburg, Berno, the Obodrite
dukes, Pribislav and Vertislav, and finally Helmold’s beloved character count of
Holstein Adolf II, Henry the Lion is in the foreground of the story. He was the
first to tame the tribes in the Obodrite Federation, hence he opened the way
for the restitution of Christianity on their lands and he also made expeditions
against the “Troy of the North,” i.e. Rügen.461
The island was the object of Saxon, Danish, and Polish military expansion as
early as the 12th c. Valdemar I of the Danes finally achieved the laurel wreath of
victory. From 1159 he invaded Rügen every year and finally succeeded in forc-
ing Arkona to capitulate in 1168. He was supported by the Pomeranians and
Saxons.462 At the time of the final struggle with the pressure of the Christian
neighbours, the cult of Svantevit became a guarantee of sovereignty for this last
enclave of Old Slavic religion.463 It is also represented in the title of the chapter
devoted to the conquest of Rügen, “De Zuantevit Ruianorum symulachro.”
The following events remained in the centre of Helmold’s attention: the de-
feated Rans pledged to meet all conditions imposed by the victor in return
461 With such an epithet, struggling with its Christian neighbours Rügen entered the pages of
the 20th c. literature, see Kossak-Szczucka/Szatkowski, Troja Północy, esp. pp. 342 ff. – i.e.
the chapter 26: “Troja Północy” [“Troy of the North”].
462 The Rans themselves were not limited in their actions only with defence. The said series
of wars with neighbours was started by their invasion of Lübeck in about 1101, which re-
sulted in a retaliatory invasion. Similarly when they burnt down Roskilde, they also insti-
gated a Danish invasion (1136). Its consequence was temporary subjugation of the Rans
to the invaders’ control and a Christianization attempt. However, internal conflicts in the
Kingdom of Denmark made it possible for the island to become independent of exter-
nal political influences and in consequence they brought the missionary work to an end.
Svantevit’s worshippers, famous for piracy, ravaged Denmark again and imposed tribute
on particular islands. They also became involved in intervention policy towards the Slavs
accepting Christianity: in about 1128 they attacked Szczecin, which at that time finally be-
came Christian (cf. Ebo III, 23; Herbord III, 30–31; see Rosik, Conversio, pp. 487 ff). In 1147
they came with successful relief to the Obodrite Dubin besieged by the crusaders. See:
Osięgłowski, “Początki słowiańskiej Rugii,” pp. 262 ff., decisive Danish invasions – ibidem,
pp. 276 ff. The most significant medieval source in the reconstruction of this stage of strug-
gle (the 2nd half of the 12th c.) is Saxo Grammaticus’s chronicle which is richer in details
than Helmold’s one. See also: Labuda, Fragmenty, vol. 2, pp. 173 ff.; idem, “Waldemar I,”
in SSS, vol. 6, pp. 298–300; Leciejewicz, Słowianie, pp. 217 ff. For basic information about
Arkona and the events preceding its fall see Władysław Kowalenko, “Arkona,” in SSS,
vol. 1, pp. 47–49; Babij, Wojskowość, pp. 171 ff.
463 Cf. Lech Leciejewicz, “Ostatni obrońcy dawnych wartości,” Z otchłani wieków 52 (1986) 2,
pp. 62–69.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 357
for their lives.464 Valdemar started his rule over them by toppling the cult of
Svantevit: “And he ordered that very old statue [called] Zuantevith which was
worshipped by all Slavic nations to be taken down, dragged through the middle
of the army in front of the Slavs by a rope tied around its neck, then cut into
pieces and tossed into flames.”465 This spectacular scene in which the statue
was in view of both the conquerors and the defeated to be finally burnt466 was
not only confirmation of the military triumph, but also a part of a wider con-
text of activities aimed at introducing a new social and political order, hence
also a revolutionary change in the religious sphere.467
In the perspective of missionary theology, the ritual toppling of a native cult
is presented as abrenuntiatio diaboli, the model for which was Old Testament
images.468 Similarly, they were intended to show idols’ worshippers the pow-
erlessness or the non-existence of gods personified in sculptures. This trend in
interpretation expressis verbis corresponds with King Valdemar’s order, men-
tioned by Helmold, given to the Rans to abandon their native cult and accept
464 After presentation of forces participating in Valdemar I’s expedition the chronicler di-
rects the description of events using the expression borrowed from 1 Macc 2:47: “pros-
peratum est (…) opus in manibus regis”.
465 Helmold II, 108: “Et fecit produci simulachrum illud antiquissimum Zuantevith, quod
colebatur ab omni natione Slavorum, et iussit mitti funem in colo eius et trahi per me-
dium exercitum in oculis Slavorum et frustatim concisum in ignem mitti.”
466 Chopping and burning down the idol from Arkona is also mentioned by the Danish
chronicler Saxo Grammaticus (Saxo XIV, 39, 31–34).
467 Modzelewski, Barbarzyńska Europa, pp. 429 ff., esp. 458 ff., says directly that this kind
of ritual of toppling a native cult was “the end of the world” of barbarians, who were
shown the powerlessness of their deities in this spectacular way. An antidote for bar-
barians’ trauma caused by destruction of the foundations of their social order was the
introduction of the cult of Christian God among them as a guarantee of lasting, super-
natural care of their land and community. Similarly Banaszkiewicz, Zabić boga, passim,
shows the toppling of cult statues and dragging them outside the settlement to pursue
the idea of taking away the power over the ecumene from earlier gods. The basis for such
conclusions was Saxo Grammaticus’s rapport about the conquest of Rügen, analysed in
a wide comparative context with a reference to PVL information about Perun’s cult in
Kiev (988). Hence one should take into account the presence of some Slavs’ ideas related
to their gods in the procedure of this kind of public annihilation of their cult. However,
taking into account that the authors of this spectacle were Christians, including clergy-
men, it is hard to consider as justified speculations assuming that in some special way
the procedure of the ritual destruction of idols was adjusted to the features of particular
divine creatures to whom these statues were dedicated (it was proposed by e.g. Leszek
Wojciechowski, “Trojaka śmierć słowiańskich bogów,” in Christianitas et cultura Europae,
Księga Jubileuszowa Profesora Jerzego Kłoczowskiego, vol. 1, ed. Henryk Gapski (Lublin:
Instytut Europy Środkowo-Wschodniej, 1998), p. 598, with reference to Dumézil’s concept,
or more precisely the three-functional interpretation of pantheons).
468 E.g. Is 46:1; 1 Kgs 15:13.
358 Chapter 4
Christianity: “And destroyed [Valdemar] the shrine with all the rituals held in
it and plundered the overflowing treasury. He ordered them to give up their
errors in which they were born and to accept the cult of the true God.”469 Thus
the temple was vanquished as well as the cult related to it (religio), and they
were replaced on the island by a network of churches.470
In this matter cooperation between the Danish king and bishops was
necessary – at least in the consecration of churches. The chronicler em-
phasized the involvement of Absalon of Roskilde and Berno of Mechlin
(Mecklenburg). The number of established churches, twelve, symbolically in-
dicates that the island was completely Christianized.471 Apostolic zeal com-
parable with that of St. Paul was demonstrated by the Rans’ duke, Iaromir.472
Agreeable cooperation between secular authorities and the clergy in effective
conversion of pagans is a fixed motif in Helmold’s work. However, this time
469 Helmold II, 108: “Et destruxit [Valdemar – S.R.] fanum cum omni religione sua et erarium
locuples diripuit. Et precepit, ut discederent ab erroribus suis, in quibus nati fuerant, et
assumerent cultum veri Dei.”
470 Contrary to the revelations announced by C. Schuchardt in 1921 about finding remains of
the famous Svantevit’s temple in Arkona, today there is a view that the place where the
temple was located was swallowed by the sea. This statement was justified by Ejnar Dyggve,
“Der slawische Viermastenbau auf Rügen. Beobachtungen zu dem Swantewittempel
des Saxo Grammaticus,” Germania 37 (1959), pp. 193–205. A critical study of the results
of excavation work in Arkona (with regard for the findings of Hansdieter Berlekamp,
“Die Ausgrabungen auf Kap Arkona 1969–1970,” in Berichte über den II. Internationalen
Kongress für Slawische Archäologie, vol. 3, ed. Joachim Hermann; Karl-Heinz Otto (Berlin:
Akademie Verlag, 1973), pp. 285–289) was presented by Linda Ellis, “Reinterpretations of
the West Slavic Cult Site of Arkona,” Journal of Indo-European Studies 6 (1978), pp. 1–18.
Currently research conducted in Rügen confirms pessimism related to the possibil-
ity of finding relics of the Arkona temple (see Fred Ruchhöft, Die Burg am Kap Arkona,
pp. 23–29).
471 The introduction of the Christian cult on the island was – one more time in the Helmold’s
narrative – illustrated here in a topical image of establishing the cult of “the house of God
in the evil and perverse nation” (“ut fundaretur cultus domus Dei nostri in natione prava
et perversa”). The vocabulary refers to the Bible: cultus domus – cf. 1 Chr 23:29 (cf. Helmold
I, 19, p. 39); in medio nationis pravae et perversae – cf. Phil 2:15. See Helmolda Kronika
Słowian, p. 408, footnote 148, 149. See also above, p. 354, footnote 449.
472 Helmold II, 108. It is worth paying attention to the fact that Helmold is not only silent
about Iaromir’s baptism, but also presents him as such a mature Christian that he could
even start to preach the gospel (predicatio). The information that this duke did not keep
away from using rigorous methods of missionary persuasion, and it is essential that due
to “innate wildness” (innata feritas), indicates that the chronicler still treated him as a
barbarian (see ibidem: Iaromir “qui fungens vice apostoli gentem rudem et beluina rabie
sevientem partim predicatione assidua, partim minis ab innata sibi feritate ad novae con-
versacionis religionem convertebat.”; cf. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische Norden, pp. 350 f.).
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 359
the previous ruler was involved in the introduction of the new order in the
conquered community.
For the duke of Rans, their conversion opened new perspectives in politics.
On one hand he could join the elites of the contemporary Christian monar-
chies, and on the other hand he had an opportunity to strengthen his posi-
tion in his country. Thanks to the imposed decision on Christianization, which
was the consequence of the conquest, Iaromir’s personal decision to support
the missionary action did not result in a threat of losing the legitimacy of his
rule – earlier guaranteed by the assembly (veche) and the temple.473 Moreover
the duke carefully oversaw the new cult organization and this way strength-
ened his position in society in comparison with the earlier system, which in
Helmold’s description gained theocratic characteristics.
The chronicler’s claim that the king’s authority was not as high as that of a
priest was a special interpretation of the meaning of divinations and the oracle
in the decision process of the ruler and his people.474 However, it is hard to talk
about hierocracy, as at most it was the strengthening of the role of the temple
in the political life in comparison with the times of Adam of Bremen, who – let
us remember – mentioned only that the Rans were ruled by a “king” (rex).475
Hence, in the political system presented by Helmold, both cooperation
and certain competition between the ruler and the temple in Arkona were
natural.476 The very expression “rex et populus” emphasizes political subjec-
tivity of the entirety of the community. Thus, one has to take into account the
profound significance of the assembly in the rule over the community of Rans.477
The leading role in this assembly was assigned to the tribal elite, for whom be-
coming Christian could seem attractive, which is indicated in similarities in
473 The ducal power in Pomerania was in an analogous situation earlier, its representative,
Vartislav I, could join the action of Christianity propagation in the subdued country only
after military subjugation of the said country to Polish Boleslav the Wrymouth, who be-
came a promoter of Bishop Otto of Bamberg’s mission in the 20’s of the 12th c. See e.g.
Stanisław Rosik, Bolesław Krzywousty (Wrocław: Chronicon, 2013), pp. 196 ff.
474 Helmold II, 108: “Rex apud eos modicae estimacionis est comparacione flaminis. Ille enim
responsa perquirit et eventus sortium explorat. Ille ad nutum sortium, porro rex et popu-
lus ad illius nutum pendent.”
475 See above, p. 248.
476 An expression of the aspiration of the ducal power to maintain certain autonomy from
the centre of cult and political power in Arkona unquestionably was “Carentia” (probably
Garz or Karenz) and the way it functioned, it was the duke’s abode with idols’ sanctuaries
dedicated to Rugievit, Porevit and Porenut (cf. Saxo XIV, 39, 39–42), and they were pre-
sented by the Danish chronicler as “private” (Saxo XIV, 39, 38).
477 Zernack, Die burgstädtischen Volkversammlungen, pp. 221–225.
360 Chapter 4
478 In this case for the elites of Western Pomeranian Duchy especially openness to contacts
with the European civilization circle and taking over its social life models were essen-
tial (see e.g. Bartlett, The Making of Europe, pp. 269 ff; cf. idem, Tworzenie Europy, p. 436;
Rosik, Conversio, pp. 131, 568 ff.). It is worth emphasizing that even the fact that the Baltic
Slavs had to give up piracy after baptism, initially was only theoretical, which is indi-
cated in the last chapters of Helmold’s chronicle. Even in the late 12th c. the Pomeranians
were accused of piracy (see e.g. Epistola de leproso per ignem mundato in: E codicibus
Poznaniensibus, ed. Wojciech Kętrzyński, MPH 5 (1888), p. 964; cf. Rosik, Conversio, p. 436.
479 Helmold II, 108; cf. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, p. 216; Cf. Fraesdorff, Der barbarische
Norden, p. 334. Similarly Helmold I, 6. See also above footnote 72 in this chapter.
480 H elmold II, 108: “Tenuis autem fama commemorat Lodewicum Karoli filium olim terram
Rugianorum obtulisse beato Vito in Corbeia, eo quod ipse fundator extiterit cenobii il-
lius. Inde egressi predicatores gentem Rugianorum sive Ranorum ad fidem convertisse
feruntur illicque oratorium fundasse in honore Viti martiris, cuius veneracioni provincia
consignata est. Postmodum vero, ubi Rani, qui et Rugiani, mutatis rebus a luce veritatis
aberrarunt, factus est error peior priore; nam sanctum Vitum, quem nos servum Dei con-
fitemur, Rani pro deo colere ceperunt, fingentes ei simulachrum maximum, et servierunt
creature pocius quam creatori”.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 361
Calling this story tenuis fama, an expression known from Virgil or Boecius,481
could indicate that it was disregarded and considered an insignificant, not very
credible rumour. However, in this context it was significant for the theological
assessment of the Rans’ religion. In comparison with the version of the legend
presented in the first book, the dimension of theological reflections was ex-
tended in the quoted passage. Namely the idea of service “to the creature more
than to the Creator” (creature pocius quam creatori), taken from the Epistle of
St. Paul to the Romans (1:25), was preceded by a statement, that when Rans
“withdrew from the light of the truth”, their error was worse than before.482
Therefore, the Rans’ religion at the stage of their conversion was a more
significant trespass than their original paganism. This corresponds well with
Svantevit’s exceptionally strong position – the first god in the whole Slavic
pantheon, the most famous giver of victories and the most efficient god in
providing oracle responses.483 There is more information about these aspects
of Svantevit’s cult in a later source written by Saxo Grammaticus,484 who also
mentioned other deities in Rügen. However, also in this wider context – just
like in Helmold’s work – Svantevit was the major patron of the whole tribe and
the main cult centre was located in Arkona.485
Helmold emphasized the capital role of this centre “on the land of the
Rans.”486 However he did not mention that this was the place where the tem-
ple was located, which would be quite natural given that Svantevit was “deus
terrae Rugianorum.” Hence, the chronicler only repeated the scheme consist-
ing indicating one deity as the main patron of a tribe, which offers a sufficient
explanation for why the existence of other sanctuaries and deities worshipped
on the island was not mentioned.487 He did not, however, offer a detailed de-
scription of this cult as was the case for Prove in the Wagrian land.
At the same time, it is hard to assume that Helmold did not know about
the location of the major sanctuary of the Rans in Arkona, so disregarding
this fact in his narration indicates that accentuating the very significance of
Svantevit’s cult for Slavdom was most important. The Wagrians are noteworthy
486 Helmold mentions this at the end of the discussed chapter – see Helmold II, 108: “Urbs
terrae illius principalis dicitur Archona.”
487 The fact that Helmold did not exclude a larger number of deities in the Rans’ panthe-
on is confirmed in information about their “gods” in the history of the Christian priest
Gottschalk, whose blood was to bring down their wrath – ibidem; see also below.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 363
here (as the capital of the Starigard bishopric, where Helmold was the priest,
was located on their land), as well as their neighbours under the obedience
of the Hamburg-Bremen archbishopric. In the historiological perspective of
Helmold’s work it was not Arkona or even Rans, but their god who enjoyed
the power over their neighbours: “Therefore until our times not only the land
of the Wagrians but also all other Slavic provinces sent their tributes there,
acknowledging him as the god of gods.”488
In the quoted account there is a characteristic way of viewing “the whole
Slavdom” that is typical of Helmold, who treated it as a missionary space under
the church control of Bremen or Starigard.489 Therefore, the ethnic or cultural
community of Polabian peoples and Rans is of lesser importance here, while
the religious unity among them is prioritized. In this perspective Svantevit’s
cult is the superior factor tying together “the whole” but de facto only pre-
Christian Slavdom.
Such ruthless domination of the Rans’ god over their neighbours’ pantheon
seems to originate largely from an “inkpot.” Its creation, on one hand, was sup-
ported by observation of political relations in Northern Polabia, and on the
other hand by a will to create in the world of the text a model confrontation
between the power of God and evil powers. Helmold had a ready model in this
respect, namely the image of Rethra and Redigast in Adam of Bremen’s work,
which was inspired by the image of the ruler of demons (princeps demonum)
well known from the gospel. However, a prototype of the image of Svantevit
in the Cronica Slavorum was certainly also the biblical motif of deus deorum –
“god of gods.”490
Earlier, Helmold (I, 84) had referred this epithet to an anonymous father
of Slavic gods, responsible only for the heavenly sphere. Hence it is not pos-
sible to identify Svantevit with this mysterious figure due to his roles in earthly
matters. There seems to be little probability that Helmold reached some new
mythological motifs, which would assume that Svantevit took over functions
of the heavenly father. In this situation, an optimum explanation for why the
chronicler used the expression deus deorum to refer to various deities seems
to be not the statement that both existences were identified, but rather that
488 Ibidem: “Unde etiam nostra adhuc etate non solum Wagirensis terra, sed et omnes
Slavorum provinciae illuc tributa annuatim transmittebant, illum deum deorum esse
profitentes.”
489 Apart from Rans, whose abodes were located not only on the island, the said tributes
could be given only by the Obodrite and northern Veleti (Liutici) lands, see J. Strzelczyk
in: Helmolda Kronika, p. 409 (footnote, commentary).
490 Cf. Ps 50:1 (in Vulgate).
364 Chapter 4
they were joined by a common feature: they are decisively distant from other
figures in the pantheon.
In both cases it would happen in a different way: in the first case the basis
for the association would be theogony presented by Helmold, and in the other
it would be the conviction that Svantevit’s cult crossed the borders of the tribe,
and as the result of the exceptional authority of his oracle Svantevit is present-
ed in the literary perspective – also in the first book of Cronica Slavorum – as
a hegemon in the sphere of the whole Slavic sacrum.491 However, it cannot be
excluded that the significance of Svantevit was also understood analogically
among his worshippers in Rügen. In the 11th and 12th c. the process of cult
transformation in the last enclaves of the Old Slavic religion progressed, and
one should take into account that priests of native deities created various the-
ologies related to particular cult centres.492
In the case of Svantevit, it should be considered that these mythological
concepts could have supra-tribal reach, taking into account the exceptional
fame of the temple and oracle, and also the range of its worshippers’ political
influences.493 Thus a question arises of whether he was initially one of a few
local deities on the island, and his brilliant career resulted only from the centre
in Arkona and the growth of the Rans’ political power, or whether perhaps his
cult reached the major deity which was the counterpart of the Liutici Svarožic,
and hence was connected with heavenly brightness and fire.494
The latter of these possibilities is indicated by Saxo Gramaticus, in whose
work Svantevit was depicted as a four-faced idol, which hypothetically could
undergo solar interpretation. The presence of this element in the case of the
491 Helmold I, 52. See above, pp. 322 f. If one assumes that it was possible that the basis for
this statement was a similar assessment of the significance of this cult in the opinion
of the Slavs themselves, or at least Rans, one should take into account that this alleged
recognition of Svantevit’s domination over other tribal deities could take place without
the original reference to a theogonic motif. However, this motif could appear even after
possible recognition of Svantevit as the hegemon of the whole Slavic pantheon. Such rea-
soning is essentially only conjecture based on a conjecture – thus it is hard to trust it.
492 Yet another time it is worth recalling the argument supporting the hypothesis on shap-
ing local cults and the related theologies with the occurrence of two-part theonyms –
observable in 11th–12th c. sources – such as Svantevit and Rugievit.
493 An expressive example in this matter was the Rans’ intervention policy against neigh-
bours accepting Christianity, see above, footnote 462 in this chapter.
494 E.g. Gąssowski, Kult religijny, p. 583, although he took into account the influence of
Christianity on the evolution of the West Slavs’ religion, in the case of Rügen he assumed
that for internal reasons, Svantevit, “a local deity, most certainly originally without any
significance, in the 12th c. started an incredible career, ousting Rans’ cults of Rujevit and
Porevit, and soon became the most powerful deity on the southern Baltic coast between
the Elbe and the Oder.”
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 365
495 As early as the 19th c. identification of the idol from the Zbruch River with the Arkona
Svantevit had numerous supporters (J. Lelewel, T. Żebrawski, Weigel, Bołsunowski,
T. Reyman – see Krzak, “Światowid,” p. 30). B.A. Rybakov assumed that this four-faced
figure was a representation of the major deity in the pantheon of the Eastern Slavs whose
name was Rod and he proposed to identify it with Svantevit, see Rybakov, Jazyčestvo
drevnej Rusi, pp. 236–251, 422 f.; cf. idem, “Svjatovid – Rod,” in Liber Iosepho Kostrzewski
octogenario a veneratoribus dicatus, ed. Konrad Jażdżewski (Wrocław: Ossolineum, 1968),
pp. 390–394. Despite certain convergence between Svantevit’s statue described by Saxo
and the ideogram found in the Zbruch, i.e. the so called sviatovid, it is hard to share the
conviction about such far-reaching community between this finding and the Rans’ cult.
It would be more accurate to talk about analogies occurring between them: especially
four heads and attributes. The key problem in this discussion still remains a doubt, re-
turning like a boomerang, related not only to the Slavic provenience of the “Sviatovid”
from Zbruch (he could have been created by nomads invading these lands), but also to its
medieval origin – an alternative was a view that it was made during Romanticism as a re-
sult of the 19th c. fascination with ancient Slavic motifs. For recent debate on this matter
see: Olexiy Komar, Natalia Khamaiko, “Zbručskiy idol: pamiatnik epokhi romantizma?,”
Ruthenica 10 (2011), pp. 166–217.
496 Ebo III, 1.
366 Chapter 4
A premise for the existence of many gods in the Rans’ mythology, according
to Helmold, is the information about making offerings to them in which shed-
ding Christian blood was particularly significant.501 An offering of a Christian,
according to Helmold, was not something regular, but was made only some-
times (nonnunquam) to bring gods special joy.502 This general statement is
illustrated by a story “from a few years earlier” about a certain priest from
Bardevik, named Gottschalk.
He came to Rügen to a herring fair which took place in November; mer-
chants could attend the fair after payment of a fare due to the “god of this
land.” In such a large crowd the clergyman was asked to do what was his “duty
to God,” hence most certainly – as it is indicated in further narration – to cel-
ebrate a mass or some other service.503 Having heard that, the pagan priest
informed the “king and the people” that the wrath of the gods can be brought
only by blood of a priest who decided to make an offering to “a stranger [god]
among them.”504 Terrified barbarians required an offering of the priest made
to their god and they even proposed a rather high payment of “100 marks” for
establishment of strong and centralised tribal states he saw an incentive for a tribal deity
to start to acquire the significance of the exclusive deity, which brings its concept closer to
the notions of Christian monotheism. However, it is hard to assume that Rans questioned
the existence of other gods, including the Christian God. In this situation it seems more
accurate to assume that in their cult there was a trend to establish monolatry, hence the
choice of one deity as an exclusive cult object, without denial of the existence of others.
The monolatry stage is hypothetically distinguished in the characteristics of the evolu-
tion of the deity concept in Old Testament Judaism (Yahwism), i.e. evolution from the
Canaanite polytheism through (hypothetical) monolatry to monotheism. In the Middle
Ages Christian monotheism in a particular way was based on the idea of mediation of
hosts of saints interceding with God, which could be used as an analogy in creation of
the strong position of the sovereign of heavens in relation to other deities. For maturing
Old Testament monotheism going through the phase of monolatry see Lech Stachowiak,
“Bóg. II. W Starym Testamencie,” in Encyklopedia Katolicka, vol. 1, ed. Feliks Gryglewicz,
Romuald Łukaszyk, Zygmunt Sułowski (Lublin: Towarzystwo Naukowe KUL, 1973), col.
902–903).
501 Helmold II, 108: “Inter varia autem libamenta sacerdos nonnumquam hominem
Christianum litare solebat, huiuscemodi cruore deos omnino delectari iactitans”.
502 The custom of specifically choosing Christians as an offering for gods of Rans has its anal-
ogy in source data related to the Prussians, see Žulkus, Heidentum, pp. 153–155.
503 Helmold II, 108: “Accidit ante paucos annos maximam institorum multitudinem eo con-
venisse piscacionis gratia. In Novembri enim flante vehementibus vento multum illic
allec capitur, et patet mercatoribus liber accessus si tamen ante deo terrae legitima sua
persolverint. Affuit tunc forte Godescalcus quidam sacerdos Domini de Bardewich invita-
tus, ut in tanta populorum frequentia ageret ea quae Dei sunt”.
504 Ibidem: “Nec hoc latuit diu sacerdotem illum barbarum et accersit rege et populo nuntiat
irata vehementius numina nec aliter posse placari, nisi cruore sacerdotis, qui peregrinum
inter eos sacrificium offerre presumpsisset”.
368 Chapter 4
betraying him.505 If refused, they were ready to use force, but merchants man-
aged to save him, facilitating his escape by boat in the night.506
The Rans’ hatred of Christianity (odium Christiani nominis), exemplified in
this story, and also the fact that their “focus of superstition” (supersticionum
fomes) preponderated over cults of the other Slavs, did not refrain Helmold
from praising their virtues: hospitality, respect for parents, or care for the el-
derly and sick.507 It is hard not to notice in this information the topos in the
characteristics of barbarians modelled on the works of Adam of Bremen.508 Its
occurrence – with the recent introduction of Christianity on the island in the
background – fostered a trend in its neighbours’ awareness to assimilate recent
enemies and treat them as new members of the supra-ethnical, religiously
Latin community of Christianitas.
505 Ibidem: “Tunc barbara gens attonita convocat institorum cohortem rogatque sibi dari sac-
erdotem, ut offerat deo suo placabilem hostiam. Renitentibus Christianis centum marcas
offerunt in munere.”; cf. Num 5 8: “ut sit placabilis hostia”; see: Helmolda Kronika, p. 410,
footnote 158.
506 Helmold II, 108: “Sed cum nil proficerent, ceperunt intentare vim et crastina bellum indi-
cere. Tunc institores onustis iam de captura navibus nocte illa iter aggressi sunt et secun-
dis ventis vela credentes tam se quam sacerdotem atrocibus ademere periculis”.
507 Ibidem: “Quamvis autem odium Christiani nominis et superstiticionum fomes plus om-
nibus Slavis apud Ranos invaluerit, pollebant tamen multis naturalibus bonis. Erat enim
apud eos hospitalitatis plenitudo, et parentibus debitum exhibent honorem. Nec enim
aliquis egens aut mendicus apud eos aliquando repertus est. Statim enim, ut aliquem
inter eos aut debilem fecerit infirmitas aut decrepitum etas, heredis curae delegatur plena
humanitate fovendus. Hospitalitatis enim gratia et parentum cura primum apud Slavos
virtutis locum optinent.”
508 See above, pp. 248 f.
509 Helmold I, 6: “sola Slavorum provincia remansit ceteris durior atque ad credendum
tardior.”
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 369
510 Ibidem, I, 69: “in terram egestatis et famis, ubi erat sedes Sathanae et habitatatio omnis
spiritus inmundi”.
511 See above, p. 305.
370 Chapter 4
granted by Providence gains Old Testament sense. The Slavs are the “scourge of
God” for Saxons and to some extent they have to exceed the measure of their
iniquity themselves, to attribute their accession to Christianity only to God
and the Church, and not to their own achievements. However, the chronicler
cannot see servants of God in the pagan Slavs. Quite contrarily, wars and any
other misfortunes, for him, are demons’ acts.
The historical books of the Old Testament and Revelation could have in-
spired the concept of a cyclical arrangement of the narration of the chronicle
following the rhythms of high and low tides of Christianization. Its success or
failure depended on a variety of factors: wars caused by the Barbarians, “tough-
ness” of the Slavs, and at last the will of Providence. However, Helmold attri-
butes decisive significance to Saxons’ being faithful to God. A lot depends on
the religious condition of rulers, which is a clear reference to Old Testament
historiology.
In Helmold’s chronicle pagan reaction is understood as apostasy after which
there is no place for – as it was conventionally called above – “good pagans.”
Similar to Adam of Bremen’s work, this role is taken by the Prussians, and
Iumne does not play it any longer. In this context the Legend of Vineta does
not appear to be a consequence of the author’s ignorance, but a purposeful-
ly used literary figure aimed at emphasizing a change in the situation of the
Slavs (Vinedi) in a theological perspective, used by the author as he noticed
an alleged lack of continuity in the history of Iumne (probably Wolin). The
chronicler’s attention is attracted mainly to matters related to confrontation
between good and evil, whose most clear embodiment is in this perspective
the pagan religion. The Slavs, although they did not lose their natural virtues
completely, became first of all a tool in the hands of spiritual forces opposing
Christ and the Church. This confrontation, similar to the historical books of
the Old Testament, is not acted out only in the sphere of human souls or in the
spiritual world, but also in the history of whole communities.
The apostatic dimension of paganism in Northern Polabia, and mainly
in Rugia, offers additional interpretation possibilities of this phenomenon.
Certainly, this situation should be associated with a note about rebuilding
worship for the House of God “in natione prava et perversa.” The same epi-
thets were attributed to the Christian Nordalbings who worshipped nature.
Moreover, in Helmold’s typifying perspective the Obotrite duke Henry, son of
Gottschalk, being the subduer of the Rugians (1123–1124), bears the character-
istics of a “Man of God” (victorious king, Christ), who had to force a mutinous
people to return to God. An intercessor of the dissenters is a pagan priest who –
sic! – at this moment does not turn out to be the servant of demons, but a zeal-
ous, in performing penance, servant of the representative of God (i.e. Henry).
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 371
the Nordalbings, among whom Vicelin worked, turn out to be Christians only
by name. Their austere customs are reflected in such expressions as gens bruta
or genus agreste et incultum, accompanied by information that Vicelin had a
lot of work among them, “errantes corrigens, concilians dissidentes, lucos et
omnes ritus sacrilegos destruens.” Moreover, Helmold creatively developed
the canes topic in relation to the Slavs. It combines references to cultural in-
feriority with earlier references to paganism, although it should be noted that
Helmold does not seem to share this stereotypical opinion of the barbarians.
The notion of barbarianism contained civilizational and cultural refer-
ences and, in Helmold’s narration, it automatically carried information about
the double dimension of the confrontation between Slavs and their Christian
neighbours, which shows well the thread of the original reflexion of this scribe
combining compilations of Adam’s passages: “All that kind of men [i.e. Slavs] is
dedicated to the cult of idolatry, always desultory and mobile, who make profit
out of piracy, on the Danes on one side, and on the Saxons on the other.”512 It
is clear that idolatry and piracy in the eyes of the chronicler from Bosau came
hand in hand. Also, Rochel, a Wagrian duke, was characterized with the phrase
ydolatra et pirata. Likewise, in chapter 84 there is an encouragement for pa-
gans to give up their idols and wrong deeds, especially plundering.
The barbarians – as emphasized by Helmold a number of times – were full
of hatred for Christianity and the clergy in particular; they showed special
penchant for destroying churches; e.g. barbaricus furror destroyed the Church
organization at the times of Libentius (see I, 69). Nothing good was expected
of them and even humane (humane) acceptance of the exiled king Harald by
the inhabitants of Wolin was to be “preter spem, quia barbari erant” (actually
it was not – let us remember – anything extraordinary, given good relations
between Wolin and Scandinavia).
The above-mentioned threats put pressure on emperors and the clergy to
undertake the effort of Christianization “gentes istae rebelles et incredulae.”
Vicelin, likewise, worried about the erection of the House of God “in gente in-
credula et ydolatra” (I, 79). These places in the chronicle clearly show Helmold’s
historiographic programme: the relation of the barbarians to the Empire and
their hostility towards the Church remain inseparable (in the beginning this
was referred to the pagan Saxons, see I, 3). Thus, the success of the Slavic mis-
sion is not only in the interest of both authorities, it is also their joint task.
Stretching political power to the Slavs, in Helmold’s opinion, was to accom-
pany Christianization.
The account about the victory of the Obotrite duke Henry, son of Gottschalk,
in the battle of Schmilau, where the chronicler clearly sees God’s intervention,
is a good example of the strong emphasis on the fact that defeated Slavs were
obliged to pay tribute and be baptized. Even Henry the Fowler and later Otto the
Great in his footsteps – distinctly marked by Helmold – by defeating the Slavs
ensured tribute for themselves and baptism for God. According to Helmold’s
perspective, the first rebels of the Slavs (at the times of Otto II and III)
were automatically directed against “non solum divinis legibus sed et imper-
atoriis iussis” (“not only God’s laws but also imperial orders”). Benefits from
submission to imperial authority and God’s laws were to be experienced by the
Slavs themselves, since as idolaters or people “without God” (sine Deo) they
could be attacked at any time as they were outlaws (I, 84).
The paradigm of cooperation between imperium and sacerdotium is estab-
lished at the beginning of the work where Charlemagne and the archbishop
of Hamburg, St. Anskar, acts as a prototype. According to Helmold, the em-
peror is the head of Christianity (although he is not the head of the Church),
who fulfils the mission of Constantine the Great. The Franks themselves thus
took over the mission of leading Christianity after the Romans and Greeks in
a kind of relay of nations; their successors were the Germans. So, the role of
Charlemagne in this perspective was taken over by Henry I and more substan-
tially by Otto I the Great, who himself was the emperor and – what was essen-
tial for Helmold – also the founder of the bishopric in Starigard. His successors
were not equally effective in missionary work. Finally, the role of faith protec-
tors was taken over by laymen who did not have such de iure rights as emperors
in missionary work, but in practice became its participants.
Gottschalk, his son Henry, count Adolf II, Henry the Lion (according to
Helmold, however, interested more in tribute than evangelization), and
Iaromir, directly involved in the affairs of Wagria and Rügen, became protec-
tors of missionary actions and propagators of the Christian faith. A conflict
between Vicelin and Henry the Lion about investiture proves, however, that
Helmold marked the difference in the relations of both of them to the empe
ror. The heart of the mission at that time turned out to be the clergy. Initially
the followers of St. Anskar were missionaries and bishops (Unni, Poppo) and
later priests from the bishopric of Starigard led by Vicelin and Gerold. The
necessity for cooperation between lay lords and the people of the Church was
essential for the success of the mission, which was disturbed by a storm of wars
and also by the resistance of the Slavs, escalated by German exploitation.
The pragmatic message of Helmold’s work strongly affected the schemati-
zation of the literary image of paganism. This does not necessarily indicate a
falseness of data, but rather a particular kind of selectiveness and arrangement
374 Chapter 4
related to the chronicler’s questionnaire about the Slavic sacrum. In the com-
position of this questionnaire the views on paganism in the circulation of con-
temporary Christian thought was vital.
In Helmold’s work, one can observe two tracks of a doctrinal interpretation
of paganism. The first trend is clearly determined by the identification of dii –
demones that requires it to be seen in the spirit of direct confrontation be-
tween God and Satan. However, the Slavic religion was simultaneously treated
as an error, i.e. consequences of the weakness of human nature (error, “errores
in quibus nati fuerant”). The latter trend also indirectly refers to Satan, but it is
up to the people themselves and especially their stupidity to take responsibil-
ity for existence of this error.513
Additionally, paganism is perceived as a spiritual force with a political face.
A characteristic feature of the social and political organization of the Slavs in
the light of Helmold’s chronicle seems to be a type of theocracy. Court judge-
ments near Prove’s grove were given by a duke, the people, and a priest. In
Rügen, fate read by priests was to have more influence on politics than the will
of the “king” and people. This theocratic hallmark on the system of authority
seems to be undisputable. Still, doubts are raised by its prominent exposure in
the chronicle. Helmold tended to emphasize the divine and priestly element
in the narrative structure.
Writing about the Wagrians (I, 69) the chronicler begins by mentioning
their sanctuary and deity, next their priest called Mike, and only at the end
duke Rochel. As in Rügen, he was mainly interested in Arkona when it was
dominated by priests but remains quiet when it comes to the centre of ducal
power and cult probably situated in Garz. Helmold developed and enriched
Adam of Bremen’s data related to Rethra and Rügen. Adam mentions that Rans
are ruled by a king, and according to Helmold the primacy of power is in the
hands of a priest. In a description of an internal war in the Liutici land, the
Redars and Tollenser (by reading Adam’s “Riaduri atque Tholenzi” as “Riaduri
sive Tholenzi”) in a way become one people defending theocracy.
Fighting paganism is not only the struggle for the souls of particular peo-
ple, but the destruction of earthly bastions of antisacrum. Helmold mentions
devastations of Slavic sanctuaries and statues of various kinds, sometimes
as a prelude to preaching the Gospel and accepting pagans to the Church.
Such dealings are clearly described by the chronicler, who mentions the end
of Rugians’ religion – after the public annihilation of the famous statue of
513 One should recall here Stanisław Urbańczyk’s opinion in which he defined interpretatio
Christiana in a rather laconic way as perceiving paganism as works of the devil and stu-
pidity (see above, p. 18).
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 375
Svantevit in fire, King Valdemar “destroyed the sanctuary with all the rituals
held in it and plundered the overflowing treasury. He ordered them to give
up their errors in which they were born and to accept the religion of the one
true God.”514
From a theological perspective, the sense of such actions was a spiritual
struggle against demonic rule. The motif of spiritual confrontation seen with
Christian eyes reappears many times in Helmold’s descriptions. The Slavs
were to make offerings not to God but to demons or idols (statement from the
First Epistle to the Corinthians: immolare demoniis non Deo). Similarly, pagan
Saxons gave up the cult of demons (cultus demonum) to accept sacraments of
faith. In addition to this, the measure of holiness and preparation for evangeli-
zation of nations according to Helmold is the power over evil spirits promised
by Christ to his disciples in the Gospel. Vicelin’s activity in Faldera, where he
acted as an exorcist, was sufficiently convincing that he was prepared for a mis-
sion, and obstacles were related to other factors.
Sacrifices of the Christian faithful are a particular sign of hostility towards
Christianity. A Christian’s death was to make Svantevit especially contented.
It is hard to say how much truth there is in this statement about Rans’ cult.
Scholars discuss the cruelty of wars or customary offerings of people with-
out specifying whether they were Christians, which seems more probable, al-
though not certain. Finding an explicit solution to this problem on the basis
of Helmold’s chronicle does not seem possible given the diabolizing context
of his accounts about Slavic rituals. The estimation of pagan deities’ love for
human offerings should be discussed in the context of the opinion that de-
mons are attracted to blood (I, 52). Persecution of Christians was presented on
the pages of this work in terms of martyrdom, and even the crucifixion prac-
ticed by the Slavs was read as a mockery of faith in Christ.
The hallmark of capital bastions of evil on the presented historical stage is
the title sedes ydolatriae. Rethra, which in a slightly modified literary image
still performs the role of this “capital of idolatry” defined for it by Adam of
Bremen, as the chronicle action develops is replaced by Rügen.515 Hence, it
514 Helmold II, 108: king Valdemar “destruxit fanum cum omni religione sua et erarium lo-
cupules diripuit. Et precepit, ut discederent ab erroribus suis, in quibus nati fuerant, et
assumerent cultum veri Dei.”
515 The account on Rethra borrowed by Helmold from Adam of Bremen’s work indicates a
model situation in which the capital and temple have primacy over the Liutici and – after
the mutiny at the times of Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen Libentius – Obodrite tribes.
It shows also the prevalence of the capital god, Redigast, over other deities. In the theo-
logical perspective Redigast represents the highest spiritual power in the world of Slavic
paganism as he is treated as the personification of biblical princeps of demons.
376 Chapter 4
was Rethra/Radogošč that was the first centre of spiritual and political powers
acting against the spread of Christianity in the Slavdom. When it was defeated
an even more dangerous enemy entered the stage of history, which in a way
had waited from the very beginning for its time to come.516 Thus, the mission-
ary phase of the history of the Slavs still lasts when the narrative of the first
book ends. New events brought an account written a few years later annexed
to the chronicle as the second book. The final episode of the confrontation
between Slavic paganism and Christianity in this view was the defeating of
Svantevit’s cult.
The most detailed information about the world of Slavic gods given by
Helmold is connected with the situation after the fall of Rethra and among
a variety of embodiments of divinity: (holy) groves, springs, trees and pena-
tes, gods (Prove, Podaga, Radogost/Redigast), malus deus and bonus deus, the
main figure turns out to be Svantevit from Rügen, and – in a parallel theo-
gonic motif – the anonymous deus deorum. It is striking that, in the first book,
Helmold claims that Svantevit is the hegemon of sacrum. However, there is no
identification of him with the “god of gods.” However, it is included in the sec-
ond book, assumedly under the influence of new information (specifics of the
theology of the Arkona cult), or – which seems even more certain – by ignoring
the cosmogonic motif and without any reference to the earlier information
(I, 84).
Helmold collected embodiments of Slavic deities that he knew into one sys-
tem and put them in order according to the biblical paradigm: demones and
their princeps as well as God ruling over all supernatural creatures, in a scheme
borrowed from the Old Testament of the Vulgate where God is called Deus
deorum, (comp. Psalm 50). The coherence of the motifs of Slavic mythology
is of secondary importance here and the chronicler, perceiving Svantevit as a
sovereign of the heavenly sphere comparable to Yahweh-God, used a biblical
expression when referring to him. It is justified by the fact that Wagria and
other Slavic countries sent annual tributes to Arkona, however at this moment
a strictly theological cult aspect was equated with its political role, which rais-
es justified doubts when treated as an element of the contemporary historical
reality, and seems to be a literary concept of the chronicler.
516 A theological explication of this situation is presented in the Legend of Corvey. The Rans’
idolatry is not only an error, it is error peior priore – contempt for the Creator shown
through veneration for the creation (St. Vitus). The location “in the heart of the sea” also
seems to be a metaphor of being lost in the powers of eternal chaos, and at least terror
and demonism which was associated with this unstable element.
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 377
518 According to the chapter 3 of the chronicle in the Northern people – the Normans and the
Slavs – “opacitas errorum et difficultas silvescentis ydolatriae occurred” (Helmold I, 3).
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 379
idols, and the highest position which is taken by the Prove’s holy grove as sanc-
timonium universae terrae.
“Euhemerization” used by Helmold to justify the cult of Svantevit deserved
a separate categorization, and this trend certainly encompasses an attempt to
deify Henry the Lion by Obodrites. In the first case there is the cult of the cre-
ation, particularly St. Vitus being considered as superior to God the Creator
(like in the Epistle to the Romans 1:25), which was clearly attributed only to the
Rugians by Helmold. Moreover, he mentioned that the Slavs “do not contradict
that there is one god in heaven,” but this does not mean that they worship
him. The subject of their cult is the group of gods derived from his blood, or –
as a result of a bigger error – deified people. In Helmold’s view, the mysteri-
ous Slavic “god of gods” and the Christian God whose follower was Henry the
Lion seem to have a lot in common, although the matter cannot be settled
definitely.519
Helmold’s gods and lower rank deities live in woods, fields, groves, temples,
and maybe also in statues and holy oaks and other trees. Some of the deities
exist also as idola, statues. However, it is only one of equal and parallel catego-
ries of description. The same deities are sometimes treated as spiritual and at
other times as material. Svantevit is presented on the pages of the Chronicle
of the Slavs in three versions as: 1) simulachrum (“simulachrum illud antiqu-
issimum Zuantevith, quod colebatur ab omni natione Slavorum”), which is
most probably not an ordinary representation but idolum, which is indicated
by giving the statue a name, as in the case of “ydolum, cui nomen Podaga”; 2)
deified St. Vitus – a man; 3) a deity of purely spiritual nature, deus, which is
emphatically confirmed by the identification with the “god of gods.”520 This
inconsistency results from using various interpretation templates in the con-
struction of the textual vision of paganism composed of the same element of
the historical substrate.
It is tempting to unite all Helmold’s views on the essence of paganism into
one with the idea: creaturam anteponere creatori (cf. Rom 1:25). However, this
would be quite an “overinterpretation” because it is easy to observe that vari-
ous places in the Bible were his inspiration. On the other hand, in the composi-
tion of the literary image of paganism, associations with the chronicler’s own
world and will to have influence on the reader play a significant role. It has
519 Even without solving the dispute on Helmold’s credibility on the matter of the Wagrian
religion, it is easy to notice that he composed a vision of the Slavic theology waving some
element of the Christian doctrine in it.
520 Lack of cohesion in the literary motif ascribing the title of deus deorum to Svantevit is
obvious and indicates that the chronicler rather freely used the Slavic theogonic myth of
“god of gods” he knew.
380 Chapter 4
already been mentioned above that in the statement “non diffitentur unum
deum in caelis” there is a reference to monotheism. Mirabilis error, i.e. a ritual
with a chalice to worship the “gods” of good and evil, does not involve conse-
cration (a reference to the holy mass) in the name of gods, but it is cursing,
which is flexibly expressed by a word-game consecratio – execratio. All this in-
formation seems to be marked by elements of Christian culture, although the
identification of the “Black God” (Zcerneboch) with the Devil is most certainly
not Helmold’s invention but rather Christian infiltration modifying the Slavic
dualism of archaic origin.
A moralistic and didactic trend plays a very important role in the chronicle.
The fact that Helmold mentions Slavs’ aversion to making oaths seems to ad-
monish the circle of projected readers of the work, the Saxons, who, as one
may assume, used to abuse solemn verbal obligations. Similarly, emphasis on
the profound respect of the Slavs for holy places (right of asylum, etc.) and a
customary division of spoils among the Rugians (gold and silver went to the
temple treasury and wives) has a moralizing tone, especially in the context
of stressed avarice (avaritia), which the Saxons were reproached for quite fre-
quently. There are more similar examples. The most interesting ones are cer-
tain ways of reproaching the Saxons expressed by Slavic literary characters
who sometimes used expressions taken from the Bible.
In situations when pagans speak the language of the Bible it is the easiest to
attribute to them notions and views unknown in their religion. Possibly a good
example here is a statement made by the Wagrian duke Pribislav that Henry the
Lion’s speech was “verba Dei (...) et saluti nostrae congrua” (“God’s words (…)
and appropriate for our salvation”), although it is hard to exclude that in numer-
ous, direct contacts with Christianity, Pribislav had an opportunity to learn the
notions of Church teaching. As it has already been mentioned above there were
for instance some references to monotheism in the late Slavic beliefs.
On the other hand, there should be emphasised the functioning of some
Latin categories, such as malus deus and bonus deus, as providers of various
fortunes (fortuna), concealing Slavic notions that could not be precisely trans-
lated by the chronicler. Similarly, the notion of semidei (semi-gods) does not
allow the real significance of these gods in comparison with “the god of gods”
to be established, especially considering that in other places Helmold does not
hesitate to use the term dei when referring to them.
Thus, semidei must be an attempt to indicate the special position of the
heavenly sovereign and not information about the nature of Polabian deities.
The chronicler does not use the notion of demon in any other than a bibli-
cal meaning, and so only penates may mean spirits of lower rank than gods.
In this case it is only a possibility however, as one should take into account
Helmoldi Cronica Slavorum on Slavic Religion 381
an alternative solution, namely that Helmold did not directly refer to the an-
cient Roman mythology in this case, but only to the very name derived from
its circle, which was adopted in the Christian culture and used as a term of
household gods. Consequently, the term deus in Helmold’s narration could en-
compass not only higher divine creatures but also some categories of lower
creatures, as was suggested by some scholars. However, there is no convincing
evidence that this happened. It is rather better to assume that the image of the
Slavic religion in his chronicle is incomplete.
E. von Wienecke brought attention to the fact that Helmold’s vocabulary
in his description of a temple cult of Rans resembles the biblical vision of the
Temple of Solomon. Actually, the schematic presentation of the Slavic sacrum
and the vocabulary used in constructing it was quite strongly based on the con-
temporary literary culture and expressions inherited from the ancient tradi-
tion, and especially the biblical one. The interpretation of Slavic religion starts
at the level of a word. An example here is a special use of terms which in prin-
ciple are universal, however, sometimes in a given context of Helmold’s writing
they may become carriers of ecclesiastical interpretation, e.g. fides, religio in
phrases such as “religionem verterunt in superstitionem” (“they turned reli-
gion into superstition”) or “ostium fidei” (“the door of faith”) open to pagans.
This confirms H.-D. Kahl’s opinion that in the Middle Ages the notion of fides
was restricted to fideles, while non-Christian religions were referred to with
words such as consuetudines, ritus or also error or superstitio.521
A number of concepts of classification have already been mentioned in
this summary. In Helmold’s use of the language it is hard to observe such con-
sistency as in Thietmar’s writings. For example, sacerdos and flamen are syn-
onyms used to denote pagan priests while the former refers also to Christian
priests. Some words have a very wide spectrum of situational meanings – e.g.
error refers to the whole pagan religion, but it can also mean a particular rite
(e.g. mirabilis error – a rite with a chalice, see Helmold I, 52); it is similar with
superstitio.
An interesting case from the point of view of research on interpretatio
Christiana is the Corvey Legend. This peripatetic literary motif is like a lens fo-
cusing two tiers of thought. In an explanation of Svantevit’s genesis, the habit
of etymologizing that is so characteristic of medieval scholars (based on rather
superfluous associations related to consonance of names) converged with a
doctrinal explication, based on “euhemerization.” Although Helmold is not the
creator of the Corvey Legend, he must have mastered the standard etymology
of his times, which is confirmed first of all by the Legend of Vineta, which was
most probably coined by himself.
A certain paucity of means of expression used by Helmold, the simplicity of
his language, and foremost its strong saturation with biblical locutions, makes
the text of the Chronicle of the Slavs – especially in comparison with Thietmar’s
work – too schematic. This should be taken into account in historical research.
Strong dependence of the textual “world” of Helmold’s chronicle on the Bible
seems to be a blatantly reflected intention of the author, who thanks to this
way of literary expression managed to include the described events to the
order of the holy history started in Old Testament.
To conclude, it is worth mentioning a psychological element in these de-
scriptions. The Slavs sometimes evoke the chronicler’s sympathy and his em-
pathy, although he often conceals the criticisms of the Saxons in such a case.
However, the prevailing atmosphere is that of hostility, and these proportions
of fluctuating favour can be found in descriptions of the Slavic religion. This
religion as such is perceived with hostility, and Helmold’s appreciation is lim-
ited to only some elements of Slavic religiousness (e.g. respect for holy places,
aversion to making oaths). Apart from the atmosphere of condemnation and
hostility resulting from demonization of sacrum, one can observe moments
of terror and fear of the cruelty of the Slavic gods, or rather of their followers.
However, the polycephalism of idols should not be connected with the mon-
strualization of gods, but only with a surprise element clearly present in some
of the above analyzed descriptions (e.g. mirabilis error).
Conclusions
1 In this way he modified the image presented in the work of his predecessor, who presented
the Rans in the circle of the “islands of the North”, not emphasizing the influence of their
religion on their continental neighbours.
2 Certainly this chronicler uses also the word Slavdom (Slavia / Slavania) in the ethnic-
geographical meaning, and then also to refer to Christian countries and peoples. See e.g.
Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde, pp. 204 ff.
3
Cf. Stanisław Rosik, “Slavia universa? O współczesnym oglądzie kultury duchowej
dawnych Słowian i jego mitologizacji (w nawiązaniu do eseistyki Marii Janion),” Przegląd
Humanistyczny 53 (2009) 4, pp. 1–17. Similar view see e.g. Scior, Das Eigene und das Fremde,
p. 210.
Conclusions 385
4 The topical relation between faith and written culture was not strange to Helmold’s mental-
ity, which is supported by the information in Gottschalk’s story that he abandoned “writing
with faith”.
5 A similar basis was applied to the topos of dogs (canes) with reference to the Slavs and con-
firmed by Adam and later Helmold; in the light of these narrations it lost its original connota-
tions related to paganism, and expressed contempt for ethnical distinctness and as a result
cultural superstitions.
386 Conclusions
Essentially, references to the paganism of the Slavs in the “world” of the chron-
icles are determined by their attitude toward God, not merely in a personal di-
mension, but first and foremost in a collective one. This relationship is usually
presented in categories of hatred addressed at God/Christ, saints with Peter
the Apostle or St. Lawrence, and also the whole Christianitas as a people or as
the Kingdom of God. Thus, the essential element of the theological interpreta-
tion of the Slavic sacrum is connecting it in various ways with the sphere of
spiritual powers hostile to God. Pagan sanctuaries and statues are objects used
to manifest demonic powers, and sometimes the diabolization of gods takes
place (e.g. Redigast as princeps demonum). The very contact with pagan cult
in this context means real danger in the spiritual dimension and it is not ac-
cidental that in Thietmar’s perspective, alliances with pagans earn a negative
assessment, although moderately expressed, and being a transgression they
bring misfortune to Christians.
An element of the theological assessment of paganism is included in the
very descriptions of events, emotional atmosphere of the narration, and also
6 In this context it is worth mentioning the appearance of good barbarians in the works of
Adam and Helmold, they were a topical element which allows to create more favourable
climate for the promoted idea of the mission.
Conclusions 387
the presentations of Christian attitudes towards the strange sacrum and par-
ticular rituals of pagan cult elimination (abrenuntiatio diaboli) with liturgical
symbols. First and foremost, however, this assessment is expressed in termi-
nology and theological commentaries, usually laconic and full of clichés. An
especially useful topos in the explanation of the sense of paganism in chron-
icle reflection is the formula of creaturam anteponere creatori, putting the
creation above the Creator, which is open to various interpretations. This judg-
ment refers not only to the assumed biblical theology of a universal situation
in which the original cognition of God is lost, but also to the cases of the return
of Christianized – in the optics of medieval sources – Elbslavs to paganism.
The selection of gods, idols, nature elements, and also people as cult objects is
of key significance here.7
The implementation of pragmatic goals faced by historiography in particular
situations could influence a reduction8 of this negative assessment of pagans
and their religion.9 Parenesis was often an important element in such a cases:
praising their customs to promote models of conduct to Christian addressees
of these works (e.g. the topos of Slavic wives’ faithfulness in Thietmar’s work
or praise of noble barbarian customs which can be found in Adam of Bremen’
s and Helmold’s works).
Similar to the occurrence of references to ancient mythologies in chronicle
narrations, if it has an allegorical nature (e.g. in reference to elements), it is
not automatically connected with a pejorative overtone. However, in descrip-
tions of Slavic religion, even these allegorical elements could strengthen the
power of its negative assessment (e.g. the Styx’s motif in the description of
Rethra). The same pejorative evaluation concerns also the elements of an-
cient religion in Thietmar’s or Adam’s narratives. It is also worth mentioning
that in their works, references to Roman or Greek mythology in the presenta-
tion of the Slavic world do not function as typical interpretatio classica anti-
qua Romana vel graeca of other people’s deities.10 However, in Helmold’s case
Slavic “penates” (penates) occur, which can but do not have to be an example
7 E .g. St. Vitus’s deification in the legend of Corvey or the proposed apotheosis of Henry the
Lion.
8 Its complete exclusion from description cannot be discussed due to pejorative connota-
tion of the very terminology referring to Slavs as pagans, starting with basic terms such as
gentiles or pagani.
9 E.g. in Thietmar’s narrative when putting emphasis on it would act to the detriment of
what was – the superior for the chronicler – good for the emperor or the Saxons.
10 A clear example of interpretatio Romana of Slavic deity it seems to be information of
Widukind of Corvey about “Saturn” from Starigad.
388 Conclusions
3 Argumentum ex interpretatione …
as one compact system turns out to be groundless. One can note, however, the
existence of a number of religious systems among the Slavs until the 12th c.,
between which, in the light of scarce source data, it is possible to see a commu-
nity of certain elements in mythology and cult. As for some of them, it is im-
possible to decide whether they belonged to the Early Slavic religious system,
or if they are only the heritage of a wider cultural circle, Indo-European beliefs,
or even an expression of a universal religious language (archetypes, symbols)
functioning on a global scale.
In the case of the analysis of the historiography of the 11th and 12th c. –
when the Slavs in Pomerania, Polabia and Rügen still persisted in their na-
tive religion, and at the same time remained in permanent contact with their
Christians neighbours, as well as the ones who were being Christianized at
that time, or had yet to be non-Christian in the Baltic zone – it is important to
consider foreign influences on the native Slavic beliefs and cult. Especially in
areas where missionary action was conducted for many years, although with
breaks, one should take into account the existence of the phenomena of Slavic
interpretation (interpretatio Slavica) of Christian doctrinal elements, and in
the case of lasting church organization in certain communities, the formation
of the so-called dual faith that is referred to in some part of the researched
source material. Taking into consideration the significance of these external
cultural influences (including religious ideas) on the sphere of Slavic cults and
beliefs in the 10th–12th c., it is quite difficult to regard as justifiable treating in
the strict sense their systems in the categories of primary religion.
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416 Bibliography
Billug, alleged Obodrite prince (mentioned Cosmas of Prague, chronicler (d. 1125) 7, 11,
by Helmold of Bosau) 287 23, 27, 66, 74, 81, 149, 152, 155, 272, 355
Boethius, philosopher (d. 524) 258 Črnobog see Czarnobóg
Boleslav the Brave (Chrobry), king of Poland Cyprian St. (d. 258) 219
(d. 1025) 41 f., 44, 78, 93, 149, 155, 158–160, Czarnobóg (Zcerneboch), deity 312, 314 f.,
164 f., 170 f., 176, 179–181, 183, 190, 245 317–322, 353, 380
Boleslav II the Pious, prince of Bohemia
(d. 999) 91 f., 189 Dabog, pseudo-deity 344
Boleslav the Wrymouth, prince of Poland Dadźbog see Dazbog
(d. 1138) 359 Dażbog see Dazbog
Boniface St. see Winfrid-Boniface Dago, alleged name o Mieszko I (see below)
Borvo, deity 332 Daniel, biblical prophet 168
Boso, bishop of Merseburg (968–970) 60, Dazbog, deity 110–116, 118, 122–124, 215,
72–75, 79, 188 315 f., 321, 344, 348
Bruno, priest from Faldera (12th c.) 353–355 Demetrius of Ephesus, biblical figure 102
Bruno of Querfurt St. (d. 1019) 16, 40 f., 48, Demetrius I Soter, king of Syria (d. 150 BC)
82, 84, 89–91, 104 f., 107–110, 145, 157, 302 f.
159, 164 f., 169, 189, 192, 217, 220, 245, “Demiurge of lightning”, deity (mentioned by
304 Procopius of Caesarea) 115, 121, 347
Bruno of Walbeck, bishop of Verden Devil, biblical and mythological figure
(1034–1049) 39 11–13, 15, 18, 25, 32, 80, 104 f., 107 f., 185,
Burchard II, bishop of Halberstadt (1059– 187, 199, 220, 251, 280, 312 f., 316–322,
1088) 129, 225 374, 380
Diabol (another name of Czarnobóg, see
Ceres, deity 18 above), deity 312
Charlemagne, king of Franks and Lombards, Diana, deity 18
Roman Emperor (d. 814) 52, 191, 201, Dion Cato, so called, Latin author (3rd–4th c.)
252 f., 263, 270 f., 273, 311, 330, 360, 373 46
Charles the Great see Charlemagne Dioskouri (pl.), deities 140
Charon, mythical figure 63 Dobrava, Bohemian princess, wife of
Chors, deity 12, 113, 124, 315 Mieszko I (d. 977) 180
Chorts (pl.), Slavic mythical figures 317 f. Dodilo, bishop of Brandenburg (968–980)
Christ, Jesus Christ 45, 49–51, 53, 55, 59, 75, 86
79 f., 83–85, 90, 105 f., 108–110, 128, 138, Dola, deity 315
145, 158 f., 168–171, 183–187, 189–192, Drahomira of Stodor, duchess of Bohemia
197, 219 f., 223, 236, 238, 242–244, 249, (d. after 934) 272
266, 274 f., 316, 319–321, 328, 366, 370, Dziady (pl.), mythical figures 143
375, 384, 386; Jesus 187, 217, 274, 292,
303 Einhard, biographer of Charlemagne (d. 840)
Clement II, Pope (1046–1047) 205 200
Cnut the Great, king of England, Denmark Ekkehard of Aura, chronicler (d. 1126) 232,
and Norway (d. 1035) 240 f., 294 259, 354
Conrad, bishop of Starigard (Oldenburg) Ekkehard “The Red”, schoolmaster of
(1164–1172) 262, 330, 356 Magdeburg (10th c.) 40
Conrad II, king of Germany, Roman Emperor Emnilda, canoness of Quedlinburg (d. 991)
(d. 1039) 80 40
Constantine the Great, Roman Emperor Eric, king in Sweden (deified according to
(d. 337) 82, 373 hagiography of St. Anskar) 352
430 Index of Ancient Historical, Biblical and Mythical Figures
Eric the Victorious, king of Sweden (d. ca. 995) Helios, deity 110 f., 113 f., 116, 118, 124, 130
247 Helmold of Bosau, chronicler (d. ca. 1177)
7 f., 12, 15, 27, 30, 34 f., 38, 56, 68, 72,
Februus, deity 184, 186 75, 87, 99, 103, 114, 122, 126, 136, 141, 143,
Feost see Hephaestus 147 f., 163, 197, 213, 217, 226 f., 229, 236 f.,
Fredegar, the conventional name for the 239–241, 248, 253, 255–279, 281–301,
anonymous chronicler (8th c.) 292 303–339, 341, 343–388
Frederick, count of Walbeck (d. 1018) 39 Hennil, deity 161–164, 187 f., 191 f., 329, 385
Henno, deity 162
Gallus Anonymous, the conventional name Henry, count of Walbeck (d. 1004) 39
for the anonymous chronicler (12th c.) Henry Gottschalk’s son, prince of Obodrites
27, 291, 348 (d. 1127) 300–304, 370 f., 373
Gaudbert, missionary bishop in Sweden, Henry I, the Fowler, duke of Saxony, king of
bishop of Osnabürck (845–860) 210 Germany (d. 936) 44, 52, 56. 209, 285,
Geddo, schoolmaster of Magdeburg (d. 1016) 373
40 Henry II, king of Germany, Roman Emperor
Gedymin, Grand Duke of Lithuania (d. 1341) (d. 1024) 41, 44, 47, 82 f., 91, 93 f., 107 f.,
366 110, 145, 149, 157–159, 171, 183, 190, 192,
Gerold, bishop of Starigard (Oldenburg) 217, 233, 245
(1155–1163) 257, 259 f., 263, 326, 330, 333, Henry IV, king of Germany, Roman Emperor
350, 353, 373 (d. 1106) 206
Gerovitus see Iarovit Henry of Antwerp, chronicler (d. after 1227)
Gisiler, archbishop of Magdeburg (981–1004) 217, 338
51, 89 f. Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony (d. 1195)
“God of gods”, (Slavic) deity 12, 30, 114, 120, 75, 325–327, 351, 352 f., 356, 373,
217, 323, 345–348, 363, 366, 376, 379 f. 378–380, 387
Gonidło, pseudo-deity 162 Hephaestus, deity 18, 110 f., 113 f., 116, 118, 120
Goniglis, deity 162 Herbord of Michelsberg, hagiographer
Gorm, ruler of Denmark (d. ca. 958) 285 (d. 1168) 16, 100, 331
Goswin, count of Valkenburg (d. ca. 1030) Heriger, prefect of Birca (9th c.) 210
Gottschalk, prince of Obodrites (d. 1066) Hermann Billung, margrave of Billung March
206, 240 f., 243, 251–253, 255, 294, 299, (d. 973) 54, 286
370 f., 373 Herod Antipater, tetrarch of Galilee and
Gottschalk, priest from Bardevik (12th c.) Perea (d. after 39) 246
362, 367, 369 Herodotus of Halicarnassus, historiographer
Gregory of Tours, historiographer (d. 594) (d. ca. 425 BC) 178
14 f. Hieronymus St. (d. 420) 24, 116
Gregory I the Great, St., Pope (590–604) Homer, poet (8th c. BC) 116
40, 46, 59, 61, 69–71, 148, 188, 200, 258 Honidlo (Honilo, Honiło) see Gonidlo
Gregory IV, Pope (827–844) 205 Horace, Quintus Horatius Flaccus, poet
(d. 8 BC) 46, 199, 258
Hagar, biblical figure 302 f. Horik I, king of Danes (d. 854) 205
Harald Bluetooth, king of Denmark and
Norway (d. ca. 986) 222 (as Haraldus), Iarovit, deity 110 f., 138, 283 f., 310, 315, 320,
234, 243, 288, 372 328
Hartwig, archbishop of Hamburg (1148–1168) Ibn Rosteh, traveller and writer (10th c.) 115
257, 326 f. Ibn-Fadlan, traveller and writer (10th c.) 64
Heliogabal, deity 124 Ibrahim ibn Yaqub, traveller and writer
(10th c.) 233
Index of Ancient Historical, Biblical and Mythical Figures 431
Odinkar the Elder, Bishop in Sweden (10th c.) Porenut, deity 139 f., 359
210 Porevit, deity 139 f., 315, 359, 364
Olaf, king of Sweden (9th c.) 207, 210 Porovit see Porevit
Olaf Skötkonung, king of Sweden (d. 1022) Pribigniev see Uto-Pribigniev
210 Pribislav, prince of Wagrians (d. ca. 1157)
Olaf II Haraldsson, king of Norway (d. 1030) 306, 324, 330, 350 f., 380
219 Pribislav, prince of Obodrites (d. 1179) 356
Ordericus Vitalis, chronicler (d. ca. 1142) 113 Pribislav-Henry, prince of Stodorane (d. 1150)
Orosius, Paulus Orosius, theologian and 339
historiographer (d. after 418) 200 “Princeps demonum” 106, 109, 138, 192, 217,
Otto I the Great, king of Germany, Roman 254, 363, 375 f., 384, 386
Emperor (d. 973) 42, 50, 52, 80, 88, 181, Procopius of Caesarea, historiographer
209, 253, 273, 286, 373 (d. after 565) 10 f., 57, 115, 121, 307, 346
Otto II, king of Germany, Roman Emperor Prone see Prove
(d. 983) 76, 85, 89 f., 287, 373 Prove, deity 56, 127, 136, 146, 175, 306, 308,
Otto III, king of Germany, Roman Emperor 309, 327, 330 f., 333 f., 338, 346, 349, 362
(d. 1002) 41, 47, 171, 211, 235, 287 Prudentius, Aurelius Prudentius Clemens,
Otto of Bamberg, St. (d. 1139) 7, 9, 14 f., 81, poet (d. after 405) 46
106, 122, 129, 136, 169, 176, 214, 224, 232 f., Ptah, deity 111
268, 304, 310, 331, 335, 338 f., 341, 354,
359 Rarog, mythical figure 119
Ovid, Publius Ovidius Naso, poet (d. 17/18) Redegast see Redigast
46, 199, 258 Redigast, deity 109, 123, 138, 192, 212–219,
244–246, 253 f., 266, 306, 308, 310 f.,
Paul Apostle, St. 12, 15 f., 20, 102, 108, 185 f., 333, 349, 363, 375 f., 384, 386
194, 229 f., 358, 361, 371 Radogost see Redigast
Paulinus II, Patriarch of Aquileia (776–802) Regino of Prüm, chronicler (d. 915) 47, 200
272 Reinbern, Bishop of Salsa Cholbergiensis
Penates (pl.), deities 163, 306–308, 330, 346, (Kolberg) (1000-ca. 1013) 164–168, 170,
376, 378, 380, 387 172 f., 187, 196
Perkun, deity 331 Rikdag, Abbot of Berge (ca. 987–1005) 40
Persius, Aulus Persius Flaccus, poet (d. 62) Rimbert, Archbishop of Hamburg-Bremen
46 (865–888) 8, 200
Perun, deity 12, 15, 24, 102, 113 f., 116, 122, 124, Rochel, prince of Wagrians (12th c.) 328,
140, 245, 284, 310, 318, 331, 347 f. 372, 374
Peter Apostle, St. 52, 80, 83, 85, 187, 191, 386 Rod, deity 365
Petrus Dusburg, chronicler (d. after 1326) Romulus, legendary figure 52
332 Rugievit, deity 107, 110, 139 f., 216, 310, 359,
Piccolomini, Aeneas Sylvius see Aeneas 364 f.
Sylvius Piccolomini Rujevit see Rugievit
Plautus, Titus Maccius Plautus, playwright
(d. 184 BC) 258 Sallust, Gaius Sallustius Crispus,
Pluto, deity 11, 65, 186 historiographer (d. ca. 35 BC) 199
Podaga, deity, idol 307–309, 338, 344 f., 376, Salome, daughter of Herod II and Herodias,
379, 103, 184–186 biblical figure (1st c.) 246
Pogoda, alleged deity 307, 344 Samo, ruler of Slavs (7th c.) 291
Poppo, missionary and Bishop of Schleswig Saracho of Rossdorf, Abbot of Corvey
(ca. 1010–ca. 1016) 209 f., 373 (d. 1071) 276
Index of Ancient Historical, Biblical and Mythical Figures 433
Vele (pl.), mythical figures 63, 65, 143 Wigbert, Bishop of Merseburg (1004–1009)
Veles, deity 11 f., 63–65, 71, 143, 310, 315 72, 79, 145, 147, 350
Venus, deity 11, 18 Willehad of Frisia, Bishop of Bremen
Vertislav, prince of Obodrites (d. 1164) 356 (787–789) 222
Vicelin, Bishop of Starigard (Oldenburg) William of Malmesbury, chronicler
(1149–1154) 256 f., 303–305, 324, 326–328, (d. ca. 1143) 38, 129
371–373, 378 Willigis, son of Siegfried I of Walbeck, prior
Vincent Kadłubek, chronicler (d. 1223) 70 of monastery of Walbeck (since 1009) 39
Virgil, Publius Vergilius Maro, poet (19 BC) Winfrid-Boniface St. (d. 754) 181
46, 199, 220, 258, 361 Wipo, chronicler (d. after 1046) 81
Vitus St. (d. ca. 303) 12, 274–280, 284, 353, Wodan see Odin
360, 376, 379, 388
Vladimir the Great, prince of Kievan Rus Yahweh-God 192, 376
(d. 1015) 15, 107, 124, 140, 160, 164 Yppo, priest from Lübeck (d. 1066) 243 f.
Vodan see Odin
Vulcanus, deity 230, 235, 250, 388 Zcerneboch see Czarnobóg
Zeus, deity 119–121, 130, 316 f., 347
Wago, Bishop of Starigard (Oldenburg) Zuantevith (Zuantevit) see Svantevit
(974–983) 287 Zuarasici see Svarožic
Walthard, Archbishop of Magdeburg (1012) Zuarasiz see Svarožic
35, 45, 47 Zuttibor see Svitibor
“White God” see Belbog Żywa, deity 307
Wibald, Abbot of Corvey (d. 1158) 276 Żywie see Żywa
Widukind of Corvey, chronicler (d. after 973) Zywye see Żywa
27, 46, 49, 52, 54 f., 85, 181, 185, 214, 232,
236, 272, 276, 334, 387
Index of Modern Authors
Durkheim, Émile 6, 37, 70 Goliński, Mateusz 57, 106, 132, 182, 213, 229,
Düwel, Klaus 7 292
Dyggve, Ejnar 358 Górski, Tytus 51
Dygo, Marian 41, 83, 108 Gozzini, Mario 26
Dzieduszycki, Wojciech 291 Grabski, Andrzej Felix 36
Dziewulski, Władysław 26, 74, 162 Graff, Piotr 38
Gräslund, Anne-Sofie 214
Ebelová, Ivana 51 Grimm, Jacob 142, 162, 292
Eliade, Mircea 5, 7, 29, 124, 166, 315 f., 331, Grimm, Oliver 218
347, 349 Gringmuth-Dallmer, Eike 135, 339
Ellis, Linda 358 Grothusen, Klaus-Detlev 325
Elmevik, Lennart 221 Grucza, Franciszek 273
Engel, Evamaria 96 Grundmann, Herbert 66
Engelke, Matthew 153 Gryglewicz, Feliks 367
Engler, Steven 153 Gundlach, Heinz 227
Gundlach, Wilhelm 181
Fałkowski, Wojciech 41, 83, 107 f. Guriewicz [Gurevich], Aron 2, 316
Fehrle, Eugen 117
Filipowiak, Władysław 174, 227 f., 232 f., 281, Hadamik, Czesław 149
317, 340, 355 Halbwachs, Maurice 34
Fisher, Peter 99 Hallencreutz, Carl Fredrik 199
Foote, Peter G. 218 Hanusch, Ignaz Johann 162, 342
Forstner, Dorothea 60, 80, 87, 97, 163, 167 f., Hartmann, Ludwig M. 148
170, 222, 272, 292, 321 Haury, Jakob 57
Fraesdorff, David 8, 14, 39, 49, 86, 97, 160, Hayes, John H. 49, 97
180 f., 208, 212, 230, 234, 266, 272, 288, Heck, Roman 47
304, 319, 323, 327, 358, 360 Hengst, Karlheinz 72
Frazer, James George 331 Henning, Eckart 76, 172
Fried, Johannes 171 Hensel, Witold 26 f., 98, 227, 230, 233, 280,
Friedmann, Bernhard 85 323, 332, 339 f.
Fritze, Wolfgang H. 76 Herrmann, Joachim 25, 76, 95, 135
Hill, Thomas 305
Gabriel, Ingo 333 Hiltebeitel, Alf 315
Gapski, Henryk 357 Hinz, Hans-Martin 171, 232
Gąssowski, Jerzy 134, 148, 179, 246, 343, 364 Hiraux, Françoise 68
Gawin, Danuta 228 Hirsch, Paul 52
Gediga, Bogusław 98, 149, 154, 178, 182 Hoffmann, Erich 56, 243, 324
Gelting, Michael H. 206 Hoffmann, Jürgen 220
Geremek, Bronisław 37 Holder-Egger, Oskar 339
Gieysztor, Aleksander 29, 55, 58, 62 f., 78, 81, Hollnagel, Adolf 135, 339
95, 110, 113–115, 117–120, 122–124, 129 f., Holtzmann, Robert 39
132, 146, 163, 173, 175, 178, 180 f., 215 f., Hoops, Johannes 55
245 f., 282, 284, 307 f., 310, 313–318, Horák, Bohuslav 150
331 f., 336, 341 f., 344, 347 f. Horbacz, Tadeusz J. 26, 173
Gilbert, Paul P. 51 Hryniewicz, Wacław 283
Gilomen, Hans-Jörg 325 Hübner, Eckhard 56
Goetz, Hans-Werner 5, 76, 144, 161, 181, 234, Hultgård, Anders 6, 92, 199, 214, 218, 312
238, 243, 247 f., 253, 287, 291, 303 f. Hunia, Justyn 37
Index of Modern Authors 437