Ullr (Ull, Uller, Wuldor, Wulflus, *Wulthur) the Lord of Hunts and Bounty, the Bow Master, and the Forest Friend
Sing we proudly, the Bow Lord!
Uller guide hand and eye.
Sing we proudly, the Bow Lord!
His voice in arrow’s flight.
—Piparskegg Ullarson, “Uller Blót”
Despite a name that means “Glory,” Ullr is a rather shadowy figure in Norse mythology. He is listed in both the Eddic poems and in Snorri’s Edda, and he is mentioned in skaldic poetry. However, he does not act in any of the surviving myths, except for one story preserved by Saxo Grammaticus: when Odin is exiled from the Æsir, a figure named “Ollerus” rules over them. Odin eventually returns and drives out Ollerus, who sails away over the sea on a bone carved with spells (Saxo, History of the Danes III.81-82, transl. Fisher, pp. 78-79).
Ullr in the Prose Edda
On the other hand, Snorri notes that a shield can be called skip Ullar, “ship of Ullr” (Skáldskaparmál 49), and other poems use variants of this kenning such as Ullar kjóll, “keel of Ullr” (Finnur Jónsson, Lexicon Poeticum, pp. 578-579). This could hint at a version of this myth, or a different myth, in which Ullr sailed on a shield.
Beyond this, Snorri tells us (Gylfaginning 31) that he is the son of Sif and the stepson of Thor. He is such a good archer and skier that no one can compete with him; he is handsome and has a warrior’s accomplishments; and it is good to call on him in single combat. Skáldskaparmál 14 list kennings for Ullr: sonr Sifjar (Sif ’s son), stjúp fiórs (Thor’s stepson), ǫndur-Áss (ski-god), boga-Áss (bow-god), vei›i-Áss (hunting-god), and skjaldar-Áss (shield-god). Kennings for battle such as Ullar él, “Ullr’s snowstorm,” confirm Ullr’s warrior nature. So do kennings for a warrior such as Ullr egghríðar, “Ullr of the edge-storm” [i.e. “Ullr of battle”]; Ullr brands, “Ullr of the sword”; and Ullr almsíma, “Ullr of the bowstring” (Finnur Jónsson, Lexicon Poeticum, p. 579).
What place names tell us about Ullr
Place names suggest that Ullr was very important in certain parts of Scandinavia. He seems to have been important in central Sweden in the region around Lake Mälaren, and also in the Viken region (the present- day Oslofjord). In Sweden, there are no fewer than twenty-three place names derived from Ullevi, “Ullr’s sanctuary.” There are also Norwegian place names that go back to a figure named Ullinn, who is presumably the Ollerus crossing the sea on a bone.
Turville-Petre notes that the distribution of Ullr placenames does not overlap with the distribution of Týr place-names, and comments that the gods may have had similar roles in different areas: “It looks as if Ull in the north was what Týr was in the south” (Myth and Religion, p. 184). The Icelandic sources tend to be better informed about gods known in western Scandinavia than eastern Scandinavia, and this may be why Ullr seems so obscure. Yet several mentions of Ullr in poetry hint at an exalted role for him.
In Grímnismál 42, Odin says that one can gain “Ullr’s favor, and all the gods’.” Turville-Petre notes that in Iceland, Ullarfoss (“Ullr’s waterfall”) is located beside Goðafoss (“Gods’ Waterfall”), and Ullarklettur (“Ullr’s Cliff ”) is next to Goðaklettur (“Gods’ cliff ”). This suggests that the formula “Ullr. . . and all the gods” was more than a poet’s alliterative device, and may indicate a special status for Ullr (Myth and Religion, p. 183).
Several of the places in Sweden named Ullevi, “Ullr’s Sanctuary,” have been excavated and found to preserve evidence of ritual activity. The archaeological site of Ullevi near Linköping may provide evidence for the worship of Ullr up until about 400 CE. Here, a road paved with stones once led from a settlement to a roughly rectangular enclosure fenced in with posts. Within the enclosure are traces of forty hearths and cooking pits, with both burned and unburned animal bones (Andrén, “Behind Heathendom,” pp. 110-112).
Another site, Lilla Ullevi (“little sanctuary of Ullr”), in Bro parish just north of Stockholm, was in use until the 700s. Here, a paved stone platform covered 165 m2; this was fenced in by a double row of posts. No fewer than 67 miniature iron rings were found in and around the stone platform, as well as fragments of wands, weapons, and animal bones. Some of the rings had staples or clinchers that would have made it possible to suspend them from wooden posts or beams (Sundqvist, An Arena for Higher Powers, p. 394). In Atlakvi›a 30, an oath is sworn on “Ullr’s ring,” which is reminiscent of the rings found at Lilla Ullevi.
The artifacts we found: amulet rings and chapes
We may never know for certain why the amulet rings were made, but we might speculate that each one was hung up in Ullr’s vé as a public sign of a fulfilled oath, or a reminder of one that had yet to be carried out. Ullr’s name goes back to a Common Germanic *wulflu-, “glory,” which ultimately derived from a Proto-Indo-European root *uel-, “to see; to behold” (Kroonen, Etymological Dictionary, p. 599). Although the word is very old, we do not know when it came to be used as a god’s name; Gothic had a cognate word wulflus “glory, majesty,” but we do not know whether the Goths knew a god by that name. The oldest possible evidence for the god’s name may come from the 3rd-century Thorsberg bog deposit in Schleswig-Holstein, now part of Germany along the Danish border.
A chape (metal fitting at the bottom of a scabbard) from Thorsberg bears the runic inscription “owlfluflewaR niwajemariR”, “Wolþur’s Servant, not ill-famed” (Stoklund, “Von Thorsberg nach Haithabu,” p. 103)53. This was presumably either the name of the sword’s owner, or the name of the sword itself.
The Thorsberg chape comes from the homeland of the Angles before they invaded Britain, and there are hints that Ullr could have been known in England. The Old English word wuldur means “glory; splendor,” and is occasionally used to translate Latin terms like mirabilia “miracle, marvel” and gratia, “divine grace.” In Old English poetry, it appears in contexts that hint that it could have once been as a god’s name. Caedmon’s Hymn applies several titles to the Christian God, and one of them is wuldurfadur, “Glory-Father”—or, just possibly, “Father Wuldor” (ed. Dobbie, Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems, p. 106; see Ström and Biezais, Germanische und Baltische Religion, pp. 102, 110). The compound word wuldorbeag, “ring of glory,” is used to mean a halo, but it also recalls “Ullr’s ring” from Atlakvi›a (North, Heathen Gods, p. 244).
Wuldor: the Anglo-Saxon name for Ullr?
In the Nine Herbs Charm 32 (ed. Dobbie, Anglo-Saxon Minor Poems, pp. 105-106), one of the very few Old English texts that mention Heathen gods by name, the nine healing herbs are called wuldortanas “glory-twigs.” Although Woden, not Wuldor, is the god who sends out the healing herbs, the herbs have power against wuldorgeflogene, “glory-flown things” (line 45). North (p. 244) suggests that this word might reflect an earlier belief in a god Wuldor, known as an archer; the wuldorgeflogene would be diseases, fleeing from Wuldor and shot down by his wuldortanas. Pollington (The Elder Gods, p. 185) takes this one step further and suggests that the wuldorgeflogene themselves could be diseases sent by the bow-god; Wuldor might have been a god who both sent disease and healed it, much like Apollo in Greek mythology.
Was Ullr seen as Freyr’s winter counterpart?
Although Ullr’s father is not known, H. R. Ellis Davidson has suggested that he might be linked with the Vanir in some way. She noted that places named for Ullr are often near places named for known Vanic deities. She also notes that a shield can be called “ship of Ullr,” probably referring to a now-lost story, and compares this to the story of Scyld Scefing (Shield Sheaf-Descended) in Beowulf, or Scef (Sheaf ) in William of Malmsbury’s Gesta Regnum and other sources, who came over the sea in a shield as a baby and became a great king (Gods and Myths, pp. 105- 106). In some regions of Europe in early modern times, ritual combats were held at the turning of the seasons between people dressed to personify Winter and Summer (Grimm, Teutonic Religion, vol. 2, pp. 764-781; Gunnell, The Origins of Drama, pp. 128-130).
While we can’t just assume that practices like this go back to pagan roots, some feel that the turning of the seasons from summer to winter and back might have been reflected in a myth of alternating rulership or cyclical conflict between particular deities.
If Ullr is a Van or has something Vanic about him, then he might be thought of as the personification of Winter, while Freyr might perhaps be Summer. The marriage and separation of Skadi and Njord might be a similar reflection of the summer-winter cycle.
Ullr’s portrayal in the source material could have taken inspiration from the observed lifestyles of the Sámi peoples and the Finns
Ullr as he appears in the Norse sources also has traits that Norse speakers would have associated very strongly with the Sámi: archery, hunting, and especially skiing, which the Sámi were so renowned for that they were often called the Skriðifinnar, “gliding Finns” (Waggoner, “Skíðfærr Goð,” p. 10). Tapio, the Finnish god of hunting, also looks much like Ullr:
Take me, forest for one of your men
for one of your fellows, Tapio
wilds, for your arrow-fetcher
mounds, for one of your comrades;
take a man, teach him
to look up at heaven’s arch
observe the Great Bear
and study the stars! . . . .
Lead a man on skis
by the sleeve, by the coat hem
push the left ski by the toe
and bring the pole by the joint
and bring him to that islet
lead him to that mound
where a catch may be made, a
prey-task carried out
heads may be shared out
portions divided
—Kanteletar 2:329; transl. Bosley, pp. 85-86
Thus, some aspects of Ullr may have been borrowed from the Finns and/or the Sámi, with whom Norse speakers had plenty of contact. Ullr also resembles the goddess Skadi, who has also been linked with the Sámi. They share many traits and overlap in function; although this is never stated in the sources, they may even be brother and sister.
Other interesting Finnish connections
Ullr’s skill at archery, his name’s meaning “Glory,” and his evidently exalted place in parts of Scandinavia might connect him to another Finnish deity: the sky-god Ukko. In fact, several Baltic and Finno-Ugric peoples have a tradition in which lightning is the arrow of a sky-god. Some Sámi people call lightning Pajän-ńuolâ, “Pajan’s [a sky-god’s] arrow;” the phrase Perkūno strēlos, “Perkunas’s arrow” is known in Lithuanian; the phrase Jumolan nuoli, “God’s arrow,” is documented in Finnish from the early 13th century; and similar concepts can be traced all the way to Siberia (Haavio, “The Oldest Source of Finnish Mythology,” pp. 48-54). The stones, stone axes, and fossils that were once thought to be thunderbolts are called “arrows” in some areas (Blinkenberg, The Thunderweapon, p. 38). Ukko is usually compared with Thor, but he has some similarity with Ullr as well, especially in his use of the bow. Sámi hunters on skis.
Symbols of Ullr
In Grímnismál 5, Ullr is said to have raised his hall at †dalir, “Yew-Dales.” Yew was, and is, one of the best woods for bows. The Old English Rune Poem has a verse for the rune yr (ᚣ), whose name seems to mean “yew bow”; it is called fyrdgeatewa, “war-gear.” The yew is fitting in other ways for a god of winter: it is evergreen, and it also burns hot—the Old English Rune Poem calls the yew-rune eoh (ᛇ) hyrde fyres, “guardian of flame,” while the Old Norwegian Rune Poem says that the rune yr (ᛦ) is vetr-grønstr viða; vænt er þar er brennr at sviða—“the greenest tree in winter, it is accustomed to singe when it burns” (Kålund, “Et Gammel-Norsk Rune-Rim,” p. 15). The yew is a tree of life and death: traditionally planted in graveyards, it can live for a thousand years or more, and it stays evergreen, but is also deadly poisonous (Watts, Dictionary of Plant Lore, pp. 443-445).
Ullr is noted for traveling on skis, and his ability to cross the sea on a bone may be a reference to bone skates, as mentioned earlier. But Ullr also rides horses, although, unlike Odin and Freyr, he does not ride one horse exclusively. The poem Kálfsvísa lists the horses of various heroes, and some versions end with the line Ullr ýmissum, en Ó›inn Sleipni, “Ullr [rode] various ones, but Odin [rode] Sleipnir” (ed. Gade, “Anonymous fiulur, Kálfsvísa,” p. 668).
As for how to tie the lore of Ullr together in a meaningful way for today, Ben Waggoner has some suggestions
What of Ullr today?. . . We now may go skiing for fun, at luxury resorts, with expensive gear, but Ullr’s roots go back to a time when skiing and hunting skill were all that might stand between a family and starvation. We might think of him as a god of survival—and, for example, a modern family on a tight budget may have as much reason and right to call on Ullr, for luck in the hunt for a job or a windfall, as any skier on vacation or any hunter hoping to bag an eight-point buck.
Ullr is also a god of ecological balance—his forests, snows, and animals were always traditionally treated with respect and care, and this is all the more critical in this time of ecological crisis. Thus, though Ullr may seem to be an obscure god, the tracks of his skis can still be seen by those who need to find him. (“Skíðfærr Goð,” p. 10)
In modern Heathenry, Ullr’s colors are the deep green of the yew tree’s needles and the bright red of its berries. His symbols are the yew tree, the bow, and skis, and his might is often thought to manifest in the Northern Lights. Another symbol that might be associated with him is the firesteel and flint. Some Migration Age firesteels from Finland are shaped like strung bows, while a much more common design found throughout Scandinavia is shaped like a bow with the tips bent back until they touch.
In Finnish mythology, the sky god and thunder-god Ukko is said to have struck the primal fire when one of his arrows struck a rock (Salo, Ukko, pp. 33-35, fig. 32). It is possible that Ullr was thought to strike fire in the same way, and thus a bow-shaped firesteel—which would certainly help a human hunter survive during winter—would be an appropriate symbol for him.
The ski resort town of Breckenridge, Colorado has held “Ullr Fest” every January since 1962, and some other American ski resorts have followed suit. This was originally a tongue-in-cheek attempt to win Ullr’s favor by sacrificing a pile of broken skis in a great bonfire, so that he might bring good snow for the ski season. The attendees probably don’t intend this as a serious act of worship—they wear plastic horned helmets and don’t take themselves too seriously. But one might well wonder whether Ullr might not receive it as one. .