Yuletide Monsters: Christmas Hauntings in Medieval Literature and Modern Popular Culture

When one thinks of modern Christmas, warm images from Christโ€™s nativity to Santaโ€™s midnight sleigh ride might come to mind. However, Saint Nicholas is not the only thing that goes bump in the nightโ€”Yule monsters represent another syncretized and modernized phenomenon, which corresponds to a medieval tradition that presents winter solstice as an ideal setting for monsters to emerge from the darkness of the long night. In celebration of the holiday season, my latest blog in our series on monsters will consider the tradition of Yuletide monsters and discuss some instances of Christmas haunting in vernacular Middle English and Old Norse-Icelandic sources, thereby catching a brief glimpse at a broader medieval tradition of monsters associated with the winter solstice.

Rima Staines, ‘Baba Yaga’ (2014).

Christmas hauntings have a deep cultural and literary history. One seasonal spook, the Slavic Baba Yagaโ€”a present-stealing witchโ€”is generally remembered today as a holiday monster, though her character has only become associated with Christmas and New Years in modern times. Another, perhaps the most famous Yule monster, is Krampusโ€”the notorious, child-stealing Christmas demon and son of Hel (the Norse goddess of the underworld), who is still popular in modern Germany and increasingly abroad. These modern Christmas hauntings align with a robust medieval tradition of Yuletide monsters that come with the cold and specifically the long night of the winter solstice. Even Grendel in Beowulf, who notoriously terrorizes the hall of Heorot, does so for XII wintra tid โ€œtwelve wintersโ€™ timeโ€ (147) specifically. While this phrase surely refers to the monsterโ€™s yearlong assault on Denmark, it also seems to stress the dark and snowy season as the prime time for Grendel’s hauntings.

Gruss vom Krampus, 1900s greeting card reading ‘Greetings from Krampus!’

Today, I will mention three popular medieval textsโ€”one poem and two sagasโ€”which feature Christmas hauntings of all types, including by a green man, an undead revenant, a troll woman and a dragon.

Although most of the Christmas monsters discussed in this blog come from popular Old Norse-Icelandic sagas, the Middle English alliterative poem Sir Gawain and the Green Knight begins with a mysterious Green Knight, gome gered in grene โ€œa man geared in greenโ€ (179), described as half etayn in erde โ€œhalf-giant on earthโ€ (140) and aluisch mon โ€œelvish manโ€ (681), who appears at Camelot on Christmas riding a green horse and wielding a green axe. Not only does the Green Knight come at Yule (284), he emerges in court wearing a fur-trimmed robe (152-56) and holding a holyn bobbe โ€œholly bundleโ€ (206) in his hand, as if he were the Ghost of Christmas Present from Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol.

Ghost of Christmas Present from film ‘Scrooge’ (1970) directed by Ronald Neame.

Moreover, he explicitly wishes to play a Crystemas gomen โ€œChristmas gameโ€ (283). The passage describing the Green Knightโ€™s arrival emphasizes his coming for the Christmas festivities, thereby linking him with the tradition of Yuletide monsters. The Green Knight declares that since there is no warrior who can match him in battle:

I craue in รพis court a Crystemas gomen,
For hit is ศœol and Nwe ศœer, and here ar ศep mony:
If any so hardy in รพis hous holdez hymseluen,
Be so bolde in his blod, brayn in hys hede,
รžat dar stifly strike a strok for an oรพer,
I schal gif hym of my gyft รพys giserne ryche,
รžis ax, รพat is heuรฉ innogh, to hondele as hym lykes,
And I schal bide รพe fyrst bur as bare as I sitte (283-290).

โ€œI desire in this court a Christmas game, for it is Yule and New Year, and you here are many. If any in this house holds himself so hardy, be his blood so boldโ€”his brain in his headโ€”that he dare stiffly strike one stroke for another, I shall give him my gift, this rich gisarmeโ€”this axeโ€”that is heavy enough to handle as he likes, and I shall abide the first blow, as bare as I sit.โ€

Manuscript illustration of the headless Green Knight in British Library, Cotton Nero A.x f.94v.

Christmas stays a prominent theme throughout the poem, and it operates as a metric by which to measure time. Gawain spends the following Christmas with Lord and Lady Bertilak in anticipation of the subsequent Christmas game, when the Green Knight will deliver a return blow. Christmas feasting both begins and concludes this Middle English romance, enveloping the narrative with this holiday theme. Indeed, Christmas is mentioned nine times in the poem, demonstrating its role in framing the narrative. Yule is mentioned twice, and the first reference comes from the Green Knight himself as to the reason for his journey to King Arthurโ€™s court.

The next text in our discussion is the Old Norse-Icelandic Grettis saga, which contains multiple Christmas haunting episodes, each featuring a very different type of Yule monster. In Grettis saga, the holiday of Yule is likewise a repeated fixture and marker of time, and Yule is referenced thirty-three times in the saga.

Grettir รsmundarson as depicted in a 17th-century manuscript illustration, Reykjavรญk AM 426.

The major and most frequently discussed Yuletide haunting in the saga concerns the undead revenant Glรกmr, a Swedish herdsman who ignores Christmas traditions:

Nรบ leiรฐ svo รพar til er kemr aรฐfangadagr jรณla. รžรก stรณรฐ Glรกmr snemma upp ok kallaรฐi til matar sรญns. Hรบsfreyja svaraรฐi: “Ekki er รพaรฐ hรกttr kristinna manna at matast รพenna dag รพvรญ at รก morgun er jรณladagr hinn fyrsti,” segir hรบn, “ok er รพvรญ fyrst skylt at fasta รญ dag” (chapter 32).

“Now time past there until when comes the eve of Yule. Then Glรกmr stood up and called for his food. The lady of the house answered: โ€˜It is not proper that Christian men eat meat on this day, because tomorrow is the first day of Yule,” she says, “and thus they shall first fast today.โ€™โ€

Glรกmr’s response marks him as explicitly unchristian, which may serve to foreshadow his untimely demise:

Hann svarar: “Marga hindurvitni hafiรฐ รพรฉr รพรก er ek sรฉ til einskis koma. Veit ek eigi at mรถnnum fari nรบ betr at heldr en รพรก er menn fรณru ekki meรฐ slรญkt. รžรณtti mรฉr รพรก betri siรฐr er menn voru heiรฐnir kallaรฐir ok vil ek mat minn en รถngvar refjar” (32).

โ€œHe answers, โ€˜You have many restrictions, when I see no good come of it. I do not know that men fare better now than when they did not heed such things. It seems to me that the customs of men were better when they were called heathens, and now I want my meat, and no foolishness.”

Michael Davini, “Viking Village” (2011).

After his praise for heathenism, spurring caution, Glรกmr ventures into a known haunted region at Yuletide, and he never returns. We are told that kom hann ekki heim jรณlanรณttina โ€œhe came not home on Yule-nightโ€ and soon we learn that he has died. After days of searching and a number of attempts to bring Glรกmrโ€™s body to the church to be buried, eventually the townsfolk give up and bury Glรกmr where they find him, and รžaรฐ drรณgu menn saman at sรบ meinvรฆttr er รกรฐr hafรฐi รพar veriรฐ mundi hafa deytt Glรกm โ€œmen drew from this, that the evil spirit which had been there before will have killed Glรกmr.โ€ However, shortly thereafter, it is the undead Glรกmr who perpetrates Yuletide hauntings, as the saga reports:

Litlu sรญรฐar urรฐu menn varir viรฐ รพaรฐ at Glรกmr lรก eigi kyrr. Varรฐ mรถnnum at รพvรญ mikiรฐ mein svo at margir fรฉllu รญ รณvit ef sรกu hann en sumir hรฉldu eigi vitinu. รžegar eftir jรณlin รพรณttust menn sjรก hann heima รพar รก bรฆnum. Urรฐu menn รกkaflega hrรฆddir. Stukku รพรก margir menn รญ burt. รžvรญ nรฆst tรณk Glรกmr at rรญรฐa hรบsum รก nรฆtr svo at lรก viรฐ brotum (32).

โ€œA little time after men were aware that Glรกmr did not lay quiet. People become so greatly disturbed by this, that many fell into hysteria when they saw him, and some lost their wits. Even after Yule men thought they saw him at home on the farm. People became extremely scared.  Many men then fled. Next, Glรกmr took to riding houses at night, so that he nearly broke them.โ€

John Vernon Lord, illustration of Glรกmr riding roofs in ‘Icelandic Sagas’ 2, The Folio Society, 2002.

Grettir famously defeats Glรกmr, who is frequently associated with the Old Norse-Icelandic draugr, but not until the revenant has cursed Grettir with unceasing fear of the dark, as terrible light from Glรกmrโ€™s eyes haunts Grettir until the end of his days and he becomes nyctophobic forevermore.

Another Yuletide monster discussed in the saga takes place when Grettir arrives at Sandhaug to investing a trวซllagangr โ€œtroll-hauntingโ€ (chapter 64), and he encounters a trวซllkona โ€œtroll womanโ€ (65). This monster enters the halls of Sandhaug on aรฐfangadag jรณla โ€œYule-eveโ€ (64), and she plunders the halls during the long night:

Nรบ er frรก Gretti รพaรฐ at segja at รพรก er drรณ at miรฐri nรณtt heyrรฐi hann รบt dynr miklar. รžvรญ nรฆst kom inn รญ stofuna trวซllkona mikil. Hรบn hafรฐi รญ hendi trog en annarri skรกlm heldr mikla. Hรบn litast um er hรบn kom inn ok sรก hvar Gestur lรก ok hljรณp at honum en hann upp รญ mรณti ok rรฉรฐust รก grimmlega ok sรณttust lengi รญ stofunni (65).

โ€œNow it is said of Grettir that when it drew towards midnight, he heard a great din outside. Then a great troll woman came into the hall. She had a trough in one hand, and a blade, rather great, in the other. She looked around when she came in and saw where ‘Guest’ [i.e. Grettir] lay and ran towards him, but he jumped up to meet her, and they wrestled fiercely and struggled together for a long time in the hall.โ€

John Bauer, ‘Troll Cave with Deer’ (1915).

Eventually, she drags Grettir from the hall, carries him off and tries to escape to her lair ofan til รกrinnar ok allt fram at gljรบfrum โ€œup to the river and all the way to the gorgesโ€ (65). Grettir is ultimately able to cut her shoulder, slicing off the troll woman’s arm, a fatal blow which sends her off a cliff and to her death. After recovering from his encounter with the troll woman, Grettir sneaks into her cave and slays her companion, a jวซtunn โ€œgiantโ€ (66).

The final Yuletide haunting discussed in this blog comes from Hrรณlfs saga kraka, when a massive flying dรฝr โ€œbeastโ€ (probably a dragon of some kind) threatens the hall. The cowardly Hวซttr explains how this night-terror returns during Yule to haunt the hall of king Hrรณlfr:

Ok sem leiรฐ at jรณlum, gerรฐust menn รณkรกtir. Bวซรฐvarr spyrr Hวซtt, hverju รพetta sรฆtti. Hann segir honum, at dรฝr eitt hafi รพar komit tvรก vetr รญ samt, mikit ok รณgurligt, “ok hefir vรฆngi รก bakinu, ok flรฝgr รพat jafnan. Tvau haust hefir รพat nรบ hingat vitjat ok gert mikinn skaรฐa. ร รพat bรญta ekki vรกpn, en kappar konungs koma ekki heim, รพeir sem at eru einna mestir.

Bวซรฐvarr mรฆlti: “Ekki er hวซllin svรก vel skipuรฐ sem ek รฆtlaรฐi, ef eitt dรฝr skal hรฉr eyรฐa rรญki ok fรฉ konungsins.” Hวซttr  sagรฐi: “รžat er ekki dรฝr, heldr er รพat mesta trวซll” (chapter 35).

โ€œAnd as Yule neared, men became gloomy. Bวซรฐvarr asked Hวซttr what caused this. He said to him that a beast had come there for two winters in a row, great and monstrous. โ€˜And it has wings on its back and frequently flies. For two autumns now it has visited and caused great harm. No weapon bites it, and the kingโ€™s champions, those who are the greatest, do not come home.โ€™โ€

Bวซรฐvarr spoke: โ€˜the hall is not so well guarded as I thought, if one beast shall here destroy the kingโ€™s realm and livestock.โ€™ Hวซttr said: โ€˜It is not a beast, rather it is the greatest troll.โ€™” 

A Winged Dragon in a bestiary, 1278โ€“1300, Franco-Flemish. Tempera colors, pen and ink, gold leaf, and gold paint on parchment. The J. Paul Getty Museum, MS Ludwig XV 4, f.94.

This warning is quickly validated, for when jรณlaaptann โ€œYule-eveโ€ arrives, King Hrรณlfr commands his warriors to stay inside and forbids them from fighting the monster, proclaiming that it is better to lose his livestock than his people. However, Bวซรฐvarr Bjarki sneaks into the night, dragging Hวซttr behind him, and the hero quickly slays the Yuletide monster terrorizing the kingdom. Then, at Bวซรฐvarrโ€™s behest, Hวซttr consumes the flesh and blood of the beast, which strengthens and emboldens him, transforming him into a hero (in a way that recalls Sigurรฐrโ€™s actions after Fรกfnir is slain).

These medieval stories of Yuletide monsters participate in a robust tradition of winter-time (and even Christmas-specific) hauntings, which continued throughout the ages and manifests still today. Dickensโ€™ Christmas Carol is perhaps one of the more memorable, with visitations by four ghosts at the home of the miserly Ebenezer Scrooge on Christmas Eve. Dr. Seussโ€™s Grinch renders its Scrooge-like antihero in the form of a green Christmas-hating monster bent on stealing Christmas, and Tim Burtonโ€™s Nightmare Before Christmas explores the theme of Christmas haunting when the pumpkin king and leader of Halloween Town, Jack Skellington, decides he would rather celebrate Christmas one year instead out of sheer boredom with his own holiday. Jack then proceeds to haunt Christmas transforming cozy festivities into a horror show as if he were a Yule monster of old.

Jack Skellington and Santa Claus from Tim Burton’s ‘Nightmare Before Christmas’ (1993).

More recently, in George R.R. Martinโ€™s Song of Ice and Fire (and HBO’s corresponding TV series Game of Thrones), winter monsters known as the White Walkers (seemingly inspired by Old Norse-Icelandic revenants), led by the fearsome Night King, come with the cold in the long night to terrorize Westeros. Even Netflixโ€™s edgy reboot of Sabrina the Teen-age Witch, appropriately retitled Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (2018), gives a nod to medieval tales of wintertime monsters when during the solstice the Spellmans place a protective candle in the chimney to prevent Yule demons from entering their home; however, this does not stop Grรฝlaโ€”an Icelandic giantessโ€”from visiting during the night when the witches’ protective candle becomes accidentally extinguished.

Night King from season eight of HBO’s ‘Game of Thrones’ TV series (2018).

Yuletide continues to provide a haunting wintry setting for monster visits. Although often balanced by saccharine images of Christmas as a source of light and warmth against the cold dark, what lurks beyond the illumination of society during the long night seems to readily elicit horror in the modernโ€”as well as medievalโ€”imagination.

Richard Fahey
PhD in English
University of Notre Dame

Further Reading

Billock, Jennifer. “The Origin of Krampus, Europeโ€™s Evil Twist on Santa.” Smithsonian Magazine (2015).

Carriรจre, Jean Louise. “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight as a Christmas Poem.” Comitatus: A Journal of Medieval and Renaissance Studies 1.1 (1970): 25-42.

Chadwick, Nora K. โ€œNorse Ghosts (A Study in the Draugr and the Haugรบbi).โ€ Folklore 57 (1946): 50โ€“65

โ€”. โ€œNorse Ghosts II (Continued).โ€ Folklore 57 (1946): 106โ€“127

Cereno, Benito. “The Legend of the Baba Yaga Explained.” Grunge (2020).

Fahey, Richard. “Medieval Trolls: Monsters From Scandinavian Myth and Legend.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2020).

โ€”. “Dragonomics: Smaug and Climate Change.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2019).

โ€”. “Zombies of the Frozen North: White Walkers and Old Norse Revenants.” Medieval Studies Research Blog (2018).

Firth, Matt. “Berserks, Revenants, and Ghost Seals – Surviving a Saga Christmas. The Postgrad Chronicles (2017).

โ€”. “Monsters and the Monstrous in the Sagas – The Saga of Grettir the Strong.” The Postgrad Chronicles (2017).

Jakobsson, รrmann and Miriam Mayburd. Paranormal Encounters in Iceland 1150โ€“1400. Kalamazoo, MI: Medieval Institute Publications, 2020.

โ€”. โ€œVampires and Watchmen: Categorizing the Medieval Undead.โ€ Journal of English and Germanic Philology 110 (2011): 281โ€“300

โ€”. โ€œThe Fearless Vampire Killers: A Note about the Icelandic Draugr and Demonic Contamination in Grettis Saga.โ€ Folklore 120 (2009): 307โ€“316.

Kirk, Elizabeth D. “‘Wel Bycommes Such Craft Upon Cristmasse’: the Festive and the Hermeneutic in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” Arthuriana 4.2 (1994): 93-137.

Palmer, Alex. “Why Icelandโ€™s Christmas Witch Is Much Cooler (and Scarier) Than Krampus.” Smithsonian Magazine (2017).

Phelan, Walter S. The Christmas Hero and Yuletide Tradition in Sir Gawain and the Green Knight. Lewiston, NY: E. Mellen Press, 1992.

Squires, John. “Chilling Adventures of Sabrinaโ€ Brought Christmas Demon Grรฝla to the Screen for the First Time.” Bloody Disgusting (2018).

Su, Minjie. โ€œOld Norse White Walkers? Draugr, the Walking Dead in Medieval Icelandic Sagas.Medievalist.net (2017).

Troop, Sarah Elizabeth. “Monsters of Christmas.” Atlas Obscura (2013).

Villareal, Daniel. “These 20 Terrifying Christmas Monsters Will Haunt Your Holidays.” Hornet (2019).

Zarka, Emily. โ€œDraugr: The Undead Nordic Zombie.โ€ Monstrum, Public Broadcasting Station (2019).

Teaching Consent: More Lessons from the Wife of Bath

On this day three years ago, my first contribution to the Medieval Studies Research Blog, in which I connected the Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale with contemporary rape culture, was published. In December 2017, the #MeToo movement was gaining momentum, and the survivors of sexual violence were thrust into the media spotlight. But while the public eye was focused on the victims who came forward in record numbers, Brock Turner, the former Stanford University student who was caught raping an unconscious 22-year-old woman in 2015, was attempting to have his multiple felony sexual assault convictions overturned. With โ€œThe Silence Breakersโ€ taking center stage, we barely noticed when Turner was trying to sneak out the back door.  

Mugshot of Brock Turner, taken by the Santa Clara County Sheriffโ€™s Office when he was arrested in January 2015. Turner was found guilty of three felony assault charges. Despite prosecutors’ recommendation that he be sentenced to six years in prison, Turner was sentenced to only six months in a county jail and then released after three.

Witnessing how our collective gaze fixated on victims, I felt that the Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale had something valuable to teach us about shifting our attention to the perpetrators of sexual violence and social reformation. I still do. So today, I return to the tale to consider how we can actively create a culture of consent. Rather than concentrating on violence, I want to highlight how the tale emphasizes education as a critical component of cultural reformation. After all, it is through education that the rapist knight is reformed in the tale.

As a refresher for those who have not recently read the Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale or who may not be familiar with the Middle English poem from Geoffrey Chaucerโ€™s Canterbury Tales, the narrative begins with the protagonist knightโ€™s rape of a maiden whom he meets in the woods. Called to the court of Camelot for his crimes, the knight escapes King Arthurโ€™s condemnation to death only because the queen suggests an alternative: the knight will return to the court in a year and one day to provide an answer to the question, โ€œWhat thyng is it that wommen moost desirenโ€?[i]

Table of Contents for the Canterbury Tales included in the Ellesmere Chaucer, a fifteenth-century manuscript housed at the Huntington Library, San Marino, MSS EL 26 C 9, fol. 72 r. The entry for the Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale, listed in the sixth row descending, contains the description โ€œOf what thyng [รพat] women louen bestโ€ โ€“ or in modern English, โ€œAbout the thing that women love most.โ€  

The task that the queen requires of the knight, in turn, requires that he receive an education โ€“ one through which he acquires information but also learns effective communication. In contrast to the knightโ€™s singular concern with what he wants and the brutal assertion of his will over a young womanโ€™s body, the endeavor upon which the knight embarks depends upon asking women what they want and listening to what they have to say. Over the course of the tale, the knightโ€™s quest forces him to see that the answer to such a question is subjective. He discovers that women desire different things and, effectively, that women have wills of their own. His journey leads him to the only acceptable answer: above all things, women desire sovereignty. Returning to Arthurโ€™s court, the knight acknowledges that women want autonomy. But his answer alone โ€“ the act of speaking the words aloud โ€“ does not suffice. Only after the knight puts his new knowledge into practice, specifically in a sexual context that compels communication with and respect for the woman in his bed, does he appear fully exonerated in the tale. In the end, the knight preserves his life and gains a wife with whom he lives happily ever after.

At this point, the fact that Chaucer may have committed rape himself deserves disclosure, since Iโ€™m striving to convey how a narrative penned by his hand that rewards a rapist can teach us about consent. But the Wifeโ€™s tale is fiction and the wife herself a fictional character; neither entity represents Chaucer the person nor reflects on his charges of raptus in 1380. It is paramount to understand that my interpretation of the tale and its teachings derive directly from the Wifeโ€™s wisdom as represented in her prologue and her tale. We should recall that the Wife is a survivor of sexual assault, and as I suggested three years back, if she has something valuable to teach us about combatting sexual violence, we must listen. According to Alisoun of Bath, education is the key to consent.

One of only two surviving medieval illuminations of the Wife of Bath, which appears in the Ellesmere Chaucer. The other appears in a fifteenth-century manuscript housed at the Cambridge University Library, MS Gg.4.27.

Without sexual education, we replicate the conditions in which rape culture thrives. Socially, we continue to idolize hegemonic masculinity, a paradigm that rewards attributes like virility, aggression, and dominance and, by extension, conflates sex with conquest, a combination that inherently undermines consent. At the same time, we generally shy away from conversations about what women want because sexuality, especially when it pertains to womenโ€™s pleasure, remains so stigmatized. The sexual education young people currently receive in the U.S. is inconsistent across the country and largely deficient in its emphases and omissions. On the one hand, public school curriculums traditionally highlight the dangers of sexual activity, attempting to frighten adolescents with pictures of disease and stories of unintended pregnancy. On the other hand, conservative states and institutions tend to employ an abstinence-only strategy, via which they articulate a particular set of values related to sexual behavior but do not necessarily provide information about sex. By instilling young people with fear and denying them information, these approaches to sexual education are antithetical to sexual health. Moreover, the absence of sexual education models silence where sexual activity is concerned. Consent, however, depends upon successful communication.

Comprehensive sexual education provides young people information about human bodies and sexual behavior that is pertinent to their everyday lives.[ii] It is crucial not only for their personal health but also for the health of others, particularly their romantic partners both present and future. Healthy relationships cannot happen without communication, and without engaging in intentional conversations about sex, students are prevented from practicing a skill essential to personal and communal sexual well-being.

Due to the deficits and overall incongruity of sexual education across the country, many young people enter their college campuses and their adult lives without the tools that enable them to make informed decisions and communicate effectively in sexual situations. During their first year of college, students should have access to a course on human sexuality that provides a comprehensive introduction previously unavailable to them and appropriate for them as adults. But not all colleges include sexuality studies in their course offerings. My own institution, for example, does not currently offer a course on human sexuality for its undergraduate population. Yet if students are not equipped with the information and skills necessary for fostering sexual health, it impairs our ability to develop a community in which consent becomes accepted as doctrine.

The Center for Disease Control identifies education as an essential tool for preventing sexual violence

Comprehensive sexual education provides young people the information integral to navigating an omnipresent part of human experience, an aspect that affects us individually, as well as interpersonally. Conducting conversations about sex in an educational environment also establishes a visible and tangible connection between open communication and healthy sexuality. Communication, of course, cannot be separated from consent.

I want to be very clear: comprehensive sexual education need not eschew faith-based values, just as science need not exist apart from religion. Students can be taught the science surrounding sex alongside lessons about spiritual life. As Pope John Paul II said, โ€œScience can purify religion from error and superstition; religion can purify science from idolatry and false absolutes. Each can draw the other into a wider world in which both can flourish.โ€

We all deserve to flourish. By foregrounding education, the Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale begins to show us how.

Emily McLemore
Ph.D. Candidate, Department of English
University of Notre Dame


[i] Chaucer, Geoffrey. The Wife of Bathโ€™s Tale. The Riverside Chaucer, edited by Larry D. Benson, Houghton, 1987, pp. 116-22, line 905.

[ii] Bedbible Research Center. “Sex Education Statistics โ€“ The state of sexual education (+Dataset),” 2015, https://bedbible.com/sex-education-statistics/.

The โ€œSinfulโ€ Soldiers of the Early Ottoman Military Structure: ฮฟฮน แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฯ‰ฮปฯŒฮน

This short research blog focuses on the development of the word แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ โ€œto sinโ€ from the advent of Christianity to the late Byzantine era. The word, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰, is widely used in the Bible as it appears forty-three times. To wordโ€™s primary meaning in the Bible was to โ€œerr and sinโ€; however, from time to time, it was also used to signify the action of offending. แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ occurs in many different forms in the New Testament as we see it in aorist first-person singular active form แผญฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฟฮฝโ€ eight times, second-person singular indicative middle six times, and second-person indicative active plural form three times.[1] I will trace the different nuances in the meaning of this word in the subsequent periods, especially in the late Byzantine period. My argument is that as several Greek and non-Greek sources indicate, the word แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ began having a military connotation in this period as it was applied to the Christian military units who had cooperated with the enemy forces, especially the Turks.

Inscription, in The Collection of Ancient Greek Inscriptions in the British Museum

        In Homeric times, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ had no religious connotation. The Theological Dictionary of the New Testament suggests that, initially, the word was used to convey the action of โ€œmissingโ€ i.e failure to follow rules and signify a moral deficit or immoral physical undertaking. [2] However, in the later periods (c. 400 BCE), we begin seeing a shift from legal to religious use since แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ made its way to the Book of Kings in the old testament, meaning โ€œto rebelโ€ against the god and his order in the earth.[3] From a theological standpoint, rebelling against the will of God means to err from the true path and therefore to sin. In this way, those who had intentionally deviated from moral or religious standards came to be defined as ฮฑฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฯ‰ฮปฯŒฯ‚ โ€œthe sinful oneโ€ in the later Christian religious texts.[4]

Early Christian symbols on an Egyptian textile, the Cleveland Museum of Art, Cleveland, Ohio.

        แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ is mostly used to signify the action of โ€œsinโ€ and neglecting the commands of God with an exception of โ€œoffendingโ€ in the New Testament.[5] In the Book of Romans, for instance, we see the following structure: โ€œฮณแฝฐฯ แผ€ฮฝฯŒฮผฯ‰ฯ‚ แผฅฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฟฮฝ แผ€ฮฝฯŒฮผฯ‰ฯ‚ ฮบฮฑแฝถโ€ which means โ€œIndeed without law I sinned without law also[โ€ฆ]โ€.[6] Here, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ was used in the aorist, active, and indicative form. In another example, this time from the Book of Corinthians, the word is used in such a construction: โ€œฮฟแฝ•ฯ„ฯ‰ฯ‚ ฮดแฝฒ แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฮฟฮฝฯ„ฮตฯ‚ ฮตแผฐฯ‚ ฯ„ฮฟแฝบฯ‚โ€ meaning โ€œthus moreover sinning against those [โ€ฆ]โ€ in the participle, present, active form.[7] Besides the action of sinning, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ seems to be used in a different meaning, โ€œto offendโ€, in the Book of Apostles although a minor disagreement exists between various interpreters. Regarding the following phase: โ€œฮšฮฑฮฏฯƒฮฑฯฮฌ ฯ„ฮน แผฅฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฟฮฝ[โ€ฆ]โ€ while New American Standard Bible renders the word as โ€œcommittingโ€, the King James version translate the term as โ€œoffendingโ€. However, the new international version disagrees with these suggestions, interpreting the whole phrase as โ€œCaesar [in] anything sinned [โ€ฆ]โ€.[8]

Nicolle, David. Armies of the Ottoman Turks 1300-1774. London: Osprey, 1983.

        Besides its use in legal and religious spheres, towards the late Byzantine period, we begin seeing the word, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰, or its variants in Greek and Turkish texts in the military context. With the Turkish advance towards western Asia Minor and the Balkans in the later 13th and early 14th centuries, the local Greek-speaking people began adjusting to the newly established political reality in their respective territories by means of cooperating with their new rulers. A significant portion of the Greek population in these regions had converted to Islam, while others participated in the Ottoman military system as auxiliary units. As the later Byzantine writer Pachymeres states in his ฮ™ฯƒฯ„ฮฟฯฮฏฮฑ, the Greeks from Anatolia, โ€œแผฯ€ฮนฮผฮนฮพฮฌฮฝฯ„ฯ‰ฮฝ ฮบฮฑแฝถ แฟฌฯ‰ฮผฮฑรญฯ‰ฮฝ แผฮพ แผ€ฮฝฮฑฯ„ฮฟฮปแฟ†ฯ‚โ€, had occasionally joined the Turkish forces to raid the Byzantine territories in the hopes of acquiring material gain.[9] Besides Pachymeres, Doukas also refers to these Greek collaborators in his historical work, calling them โ€œฮผฮนฮพฮฟฮฒฮฑฯฮฒฮฑฯฮฟฮนโ€ meaning half-Greek and half-Turks.[10] Although these authors shunned using the word, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฯ‰ฮปฯŒฯ‚, several Turkish authors borrow this term from their Greek correspondents. An early Ottoman called AลŸฤฑkpaลŸazade reports that the founder of the Ottoman principality, Osman Gazi, had a โ€œmartolosโ€ ( ู…ุงุฑุชู„ูˆุณ) by the name of Artun who acted as a spy in the Byzantine territories for the Ottomans.[11] After the Ottoman conquests in the Balkans, as the land surveys indicate, the Ottomans had given landed estates to several Christian military units who were also called โ€œmartolosโ€.[12]

Greek Armatolos by Carl Haag (1820โ€“1915).

         Lastly, after the mid-fourteenth century, the Ottomans also formed provincial forces in mainland Greece named โ€œarmatolosโ€ which had a clear phonetic resemblance with the word โ€œamartolosโ€. Although several scholars argued that this term had derived from a medieval loan word from Latin arma โ€œweaponโ€ via Greek ฮฑฯฮผฮฑฯ„ฮฟฮปฯŒฯ‚ it is also within the boundaries of possibility that the development of that word might have originated from ฮฑฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฯ‰ฮปฯŒฯ‚ since the use of the latter preceded the former. During the Greek War of Independence (1821-1828), these ฮฑฯฮผฮฑฯ„ฮฟฮปฯŒฯ‚ units had actively participated in military encounters against the Ottoman forces as we are able to trace their role in Greek folk songs: โ€œฯƒฯ…ฮปฮปฮฟฮณฮนฯƒฯ„ฮตฮฏฯ„ฮต ฯ„ฮฟ ฮบฮฑฮปฮฌ, /ฯŒฯ„ฮน (: ฮณฮนฮฑฯ„ฮฏ) ฯƒฮฑฯ‚ ฮบฮฑฮฏฮผฮต ฯ„ฮฑ ฯ‡ฯ‰ฯฮนฮฌยท / ฮณฯฮฎฮณฮฟฯฮฑ ฯ„โ€™ ฮฑฯฮผฮฑฯ„ฮฟฮปฮฏฮบฮน,/ ฮฟฯ„โ€™ ฮตฯฯ‡ฯŒฮผฮฑฯƒฯ„ฮต ฯƒฮฑฮฝ ฮปฯฮบฮฟฮนโ€ โ€œThink well, / that [why] we burn your villages; / quickly the armatoliki, / that we come like wolvesโ€.[13]

        In sum, แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰ had no religious implications during Homeric times as it was used to convey the idea of โ€œmissingโ€ (i.e. โ€œmissing the markโ€). However, in the later periods, it started appearing in the Bible as the word began to signify the act of transgression against the word of God. In the late Byzantine period, however, a derivation of this word,  แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฯ‰ฮปฯŒฯ‚, was used for Christians who cooperated with the enemy forces since it was thought that they rebelled against God by aligning themselves with the non-Christian adversaries. 


[1] Thesaurus Linguae Graecae. Search for word: แผฮผฮฑฯฯ„ฮฌฮฝฯ‰.

[2]Danker, Frederick W. et al., A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and Other Early Christian Literature (Exeter: Eerdmans, 1974) 44.

[3] Ibid. 43.

[4] Oxford Classical Greek Dictionary, ed. James Morwood and John Taylor, (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002)

[5] Geoffrey W. Bromiley. Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. Exeter: William Eerdmen Publishing, 1985. 49.

[6] www.biblegateway.com, Romans 2:12-16.

[7] www.biblegateway.com, Corinthians 8-12.

[8] www.biblegateway.com, Acts 25:8.

[9] George Pachymeres, Relations Historiques, ed. Albert Failler, 5 vols (Paris, 1984โ€“2000) 4:643.18.

[10] Doukas, Decline and Fall of Byzantium to the Ottoman Turks by Doukas, ed. Harry Magouilas. Detroit, 1975. 33.

[11] AลŸฤฑkpaลŸazade, OsmanoฤŸullarฤฑโ€™nฤฑn Tarihi ed. Kemal Yavuz and Yekta Saraรง. ฤฐstanbul: MAS Matbaacฤฑlฤฑk, 2003. 324.

[12] Suret-i Defter-i Sancak-ฤฑ Tirhala, ed. Melek Delilbasi and Muzaffer Arikan, (Ankara: TTK, 2001) 296-334.

[13] Demetrius Petropoulos, ฮตฮปฮปฮทฮฝฮนฮบฮฑ ฮดฮทฮผฮฟฯ„ฮนฮบฮฑ ฯ„ฯฮฑฮณฮฟฯ…ฮดฮนฮฑ Vol1 (Greek Popular Songs), (Athens: ฮ’ฮฑฯƒฮนฮบฮท ฮฒฮนฮฒฮปฮนฮฟฮธฮทฮบฮท, 1958): 3-65.