Across land and sea: reflections on the Black Plague

Looking back, my very first post on this blog was an article about the black plague and an old hag named Pesta. Seven years later, I feel a need to elaborate. Although I will not draw any comparisons, times like these makes me think. Typhoid fever, cholera, dysentery and plague have, since antiquity, appeared in the most varied forms. With no medical understanding of the illness itself or the spread of infection, how is something similar to a pandemic explained? How did people hundreds of years ago relate and come to terms with such a catastrophe?

According to Norwegian medieval historian Ole Jørgen Benedictow, it was in September 1348 that merchant ships sailing from Oslo to seaports in Southeast England this time would return with something quite different than the usual cargo of wheat, glassware, beer and wine; the crew could tell about such a horrifying pestilence unlike anything before. Originating from parasites living on the rodents that were regular passengers on the ships, the bacterium named Yersinia pestis transmitted effectively to men, whom in turn passed it on to each other. Regardless of age, gender and social status, none were spared – under a period of only two years, nearly 220,000 of a Norwegian population on an estimated 350,000 residents would perish. It was a tribulation beyond measure, and it is natural to imagine that the plague would generate an anguish that would dominate people’s minds and storytelling in the centuries that followed.

The creation of Pesta in the folk traditions describes the need for an embodiment of a previously unknown experience. She is a mythical being, not of this world, yet she is not as regular a feature in nature and the folktales such as trolls, dwarves or the hulderfolk - she is special, unique in her malice. She gave shape to the eeriness and anguish that arose from the Black Death, and we get a rare glimpse of the experiences of the ordinary folk; dark, blind and hideous, death raged from farm to farm.

Theodor Kittelsen (1894-96). 

Illustration for The Black Plague (1900).

Nasjonalmuseet, The Fine Art Collections

In the traditional district Solør in the Southeastern part of Norway, it was told that "Pesta was an old hag, whom in previous times made her way around the farms in Solør. She carried with her a rake, and a broom. Where she made use of her rake outside the farmhouse door, some were spared. But where she used her broom, all became ill, and perished."

On that account, it is quite clear that a consciousness of the mortality of the illness emerged at an early stage; with the speed of lightening, "it ravaged across the lands, bringing Norway to a state of powerlessness that would last for centuries." And it was an old, black-backed and beastly hag who was to blame. Simultaneously, there was a need for an understanding of why there were people whom, against all odds, came out of it unaffected, while other places not a living soul could be seen for miles. Pesta’s use of her the rake and broom in fact helped explain this injustice; where she used her rake some were lucky enough to live, slipping as they did though the rakes gaps. Where she used her broom, all perished.

Norwegian folklorist Reidar Th. Christiansen presented the stories of transportation the plague across land and sea as a separate category within the folklore tradition, which indicates that stories like these were highly widespread. What’s interesting is that traces of historical truth can be detected through these legends. The plot – Pesta receiving assistance to travel across waters - can firstly be associated with the arrival of the plague by the ships from England in 1349. The legend might also be interpreted a defense technique used to prevent the spread of the plague; the technique involved quarantining an entire district, where rivers and streams marked the boundary which no one were to violate. "Where the parish or district borders were marked by a river, any traffic across were prohibited. The plague was not considered to be able to cross over running water", Swedish folklorist Carl-Herman Tillhagen writes. The consequence was complete isolation.

From Norwegian historian and priest Andreas Faye's records we find a legend from Gjerrestad in Aust-Agder in Southern Norway, which tells of the ferryman who were employed to ship Pesta across from one side of the waters to the next. It took a while before he realized who the passanger actually was, and became very frightened when the truth finally dawned on him. The man pleaded her to spare his life as a reward for having carried her across: "Pesta then took out a large book, opened it and replied: 'Your life I cannot save, but an easy death I may grant you.' As soon as the man returned home, he became drowsy. He then lay down, and perished."

Theodor Kittelsen, Across land and sea (1904)

This is not a unique formula; the stories of the folk traditions tell of supernatural beings interfering in all areas of everyday life, and as a consequense, people thought that the subterranians were nearby or followed them wherever they were. The stories about the nisse might be a relevant comparison; nissen had his abode in houses and barns, and served as a guardian, as well as a helper. He was essentially good-natured, and loved conducting 
practical jokes. It was however, important to be on good terms with him, for he could create a lot of turmoil if he was neglected. That being said, Pesta, of course, was not considered a helper, yet the story of the ferryman might be interpreteted as an explanation of why someone had to suffer the black death for days, while others were "lucky" enough to simply fall asleep, never to wake up again. 

For a population who had no knowledge of the medical explanatory model for infection and the spread of disease, it was natural to make use of a worldview already familiar to the ordinary folk. In popular belief, disappearances, sickness, and misery were most often not something people were accidentally exposed to, but rather punishments for violating the social norms existing between humans and the supernatural. 

Plaga, a word of Latin origin meaning stroke or shock, is a term which has been in use for centuries; already Homer's The Illiad, tells of Apollon shooting arrows contaminated with plague on the achaeans, and several sections of the Old Testament tells of an angel of the Lord striking the people with plague by using a sword. In pagan times, it was also believed that sickness and good health, besides happiness and suffering, life and death, were associated with the benevolence and resentment of the gods. In the Nordic lands, long after Christianity was introduced, the folk tradition expresses a mixture of anxiety about what the ancient gods could think of to avenge, as well as thoughts about the plague as a punishment from a chastening, Christian God for mankind's sinful ways of life. 

Combined, these perspectives are important at multiple levels; embodiments such as Pesta help to form an intelligible system in spite of chaotic situations. Hence, they expresse people's need and ability to create create an unambiguous structure of a situation that has gotten out of control. The story of the ferryman verifies this viewpoint; by helping her across (although unknowledgeable), he is given the opportunity to influence his own passing. In this sense, he is rewarded in some way, even if his life comes to an end. At the same time, the thoughts and ideas centered around the reasons of the plague, reveals a basic need to understand, as well as to reflect on the fundamental questions; our relations with the divine, who we are, where we are going. Why is this happening to us? 

These notions are not restricted in any ways, not by space nor time. As a consequense, historical legends might be considered as gateways to a better understanding of how we as a joint mankind, at all times, reflect upon our existence.


Sources:

• Camilla Christensen. Against the might, ominous forces of nature... Nature, myth and national identity in the art of Theodor Kittelsen. In "Becoming the Forest", #2. A project by Una Hamilton Helle, co-edited with Lotte Brown, 2017

• Andreas Faye. Norske Folke-sagn. Norsk Folkeminnelags Forlag. Tredje Oplag. Oslo 1948.

• Ole Jørgen Benedictow. Svartedauen og senere pestepidemier i Norge. Unipub Forlag 2002.

• Reidar Th. Christensen. The Migratory Legends. Helsinki 1958

• Carl Herman Tillhagen. Sägner och folktro kring pesten. I Fataburen. Nordiska museets och Skansens årsbok 1967.