Studia Neophilologica 71: 143–155, 1999

The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script

BERNARD MEES

The Germanic runes are usually stated to have their origin in an adaptation of a
Mediterranean script: Etruscan, Greek or Latin.1A Latin origin for the runic script (known
as the fuþark, after the first six characters of the runic script as represented on the Kylver
stone), as was most influentially formally propounded by Ludvig Wimmer,2 suggested the
likelihood that the runes were adapted or evolved from the Latin ABC through mercantile
contacts in the region of the Rhenish or Danubian frontier. A similar method of adoption
from an eastern Greek alphabet, as was subsequently suggested by Sophus Bugge, has lost
favour owing to the emphasis of Bugge and Otto von Friesen3 on the Black Sea Goths as
the tribe most likely to have adopted the characters of the Greek world. The Etruscan or
rather the descendent North Italic alphabets, as was suggested by Carl Marstrander and
Magnus Hammarström,4 are often considered to be more similar orthographically to the
runic script, and boustrophedon and sinistroverse runic inscriptions also point towards a
North Italic influence as many of the Italic inscriptions are executed from right to left. A
convincing historical argument as to the date and method of adoption of the fuþark,
however, has yet to appear. The North Italic thesis is hampered by the fact that the first
runic finds in the south of Germania appear later than do those of the north, not dating
before the fifth century A.D.5 Marstrander and before him Holger Pedersen suggested that
Celtic tribes might have acted as intermediaries in the centuries about the birth of Christ,
whether from North Italic or Roman sources. Yet although the North Italic thesis once
received widespread support among runologists, the only widely accepted attempt to
explain the agency of transmission granted a North Italic source was influenced by the
Negau B inscription and the idea of Alpengermanen in the second century B.C., generally
regarded now as a myth.6
Another theory that has endeavoured to explain the transmission of writing from south
to north is the Cimbrian thesis that seeks to link the acquisition of the runic script with the
return north of defeated Cimbri and Teutones after the Roman victory at the Vercellae in
101 B.C.7 Although linked in its original proposition to the North Italic thesis, it could also
be applied to an origin theory founded on any other script used in a region through which
the Cimbri wandered. The southward journeying of these people, probably from northern
Jutland, is often linked to importation from the south as a reflux movement enabled by the
opening of the southern frontier.8 The departure of the Cimbri is an early turning point in
Germanic history, as it first introduced the furor Teutonicus to the Mediterranean region,
but contact with the south had been occurring since the Bronze Age, and despite a
contraction in trade at the time of the fall of the Late Halstatt Fürstensitze, north-south
links had been reopened before the time of the departure of the Cimbri.9 Early Greek
explorers such as Pytheas had visited or heard of Germanic tribes two centuries prior to the
southern irruption of the Cimbri, although it was not until the appearance of the
ethnography of Poseidonios that the term Germani was applied to these people.10
Cimbrian theses are merely historical crutches used to provide a defined event to illustrate
the beginning of many different north-south relations that were already burgeoning before
the Cimbri irrupted so violently into Mediterranean history.
Until the discovery of the Meldorf fibula inscription in 1979, the earliest of the over 200
runic finds in the older fuþark were usually dated to the late second century A.D., a century
before the Goths arrived at the Black Sea shores. Even so, datings for early finds such as
the Øvre Stabu spearhead (unearthed in 1890) were somewhat controversial until a proper
absolute (vis-à-vis relative) archaeological chronology for the Iron Age was developed
144 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

after the war, a lemma that explains why the thesis of a Gothic adoption of Greek letters
was maintained by Gunnar Ekholm, a prominent Scandinavian archaeologist, as late as
1959.11 A modified eastern thesis replacing the Goths with the earlier eastern Germanic
Bastarnae or Quadi remains a possibility, however, and Greek letters were in use in Gaul
from the third to first centuries B.C. Nevertheless, von Friesen’s Greek theory relied on
cursive Greek, not the epigraphical letters typical of pre-Roman Gaul. Yet a Greek origin
is still maintained by runologists who seek runic origins in pre-classical times, and it is
clear that many imports into the Germanic North come from eastern sources, as is
evidenced by finds such as the famous Thraco-Celtic cauldron from Gundestrup and the
standard measure of Borremose which is a Greek foot (33 cm), not Roman (29.5 cm).12
The inscription on the Meldorf fibula has been dated on stylistic grounds to the first half
of the first century A.D. Although the interpretations proffered for this inscription are
mostly problematic, most runologists see Meldorf as at least proto-runic, even while
maintaining different theories as to the origin of the runes. The Meldorf inscription cannot
be semantically Latin, and Germanic inscriptions in Roman letters are unparallelled for
this period, the only roughly contemporary inscriptions being the orthographically North
Italic Negau B helmet inscription, and the doubtful evidence supplied by an ortho-
graphically Latin coin legend from Pannonia. (The earliest Germano-Latin inscriptions
attributed to the Rhenish Ubii date from the second–third centuries A.D.). Although it has
not provided any orthographic clues as to the prototype for the fuþark, the discovery of the
inscription on the Meldorf fibula has probably pushed back the date of the earliest use of
the runes by the Germanic peoples to before the time of Tacitus. Indeed another first
century find has recently come to light in excavations from Osterrönfeld, less than 50 km
northeast from Meldorf, that bears an even briefer inscription that may also be runic.13
Many runologists suppose that the fuþark was borrowed or created as an indigenous
response to the need for a system of writing for use in mercantile contracts such as those
employed by Mediterranean traders. The underlying assumption here is that the Germanic
peoples traded according to the rules of the Mediterranean cultures, a notion not borne out
by modern archaeological constructions. Trade during the Germanic pre-Roman Iron Age
was more inclined to diffusive tendencies or was dominated by ‘big men’ or chiefs in the
modern reconstructions based on anthropological models. The evolutionary models of this
archaeology indicate a type of economic structure quite different from the market
economies of central Europe and the Mediterranean, although since the time of Caesar
these economic systems had increasingly come into contact. The concept of a Germanic
mercantile class is not borne out by historical or archaeological evidence.14 The notion of a
mercantile need for the fuþark is obviously influenced by the written testaments of many
other languages, such as Linear B Greek, that are records of traded commodities. The
mercantile use of the fuþark, however, is not evidenced by any ancient (pre-Völker-
wanderung) inscriptional find.15
Others suggest that Germanic warriors may have brought the Latin letters back with
them after serving in the Roman army. This thesis is predicated on archaeological
groundwork that indicates there is a concentration of Roman artefacts on Jutland and
Sjælland, finds that are not parallelled closer to the borders of the Empire. As the earliest
runic inscriptions also stem from this area, the same dynamic that produced the pattern in
the distribution of imported artefacts is assumed to have affected the distribution of the
early use of runes. Yet this pattern is only apparent from the fourth century A.D. when the
archaeological record indicates centralising forces that are assumed to reflect the
development of a centralised power on Sjælland, i.e. the early Danish state. Thus the
runes are thought to have been adapted from Latin by warriors returning from Roman
service for diplomatic, social or legal purposes in this early Danish state. The earliest runic
finds, however, clearly pre-date the period for this reconstruction by at least two centuries.
Although Roman goods first appear in this region from the late second century, at this
earlier time it is clear from historical sources that Germanic mercenaries mainly came
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 145

from the regions closest to the Empire, not Scandinavia. Indeed figures such as Arminius
would clearly have been literate, and Germanic soldiers had probably served in the
retinues of Celtic leaders in the last century B.C. or even somewhat earlier. This thesis
clearly does not explain the distribution of the earliest runic finds. Moreover, although
many runic inscriptions are found on weapons and shields of Germanic manufacture, there
are none found on Roman imports. Thus imports of Roman manufacture are not directly
linked with runic inscriptions, though both may be linked with a growing emphasis on the
possession of prestige goods. Nevertheless, there is no evidence that indicates that a
Germanic warrior brought the prototype upon which the runes were based back with him
after a sojourn in the South.16
A cultic origin of the runic script is less well received. Many of the earliest runic finds
are often characterised as pertaining to magico-religious discourses, and not surprisingly,
the names of some Germanic deities have been recognised in early Germanic forms.17 The
most aggressive example of this approach is one that seeks to characterise the evolution of
the runic script as not from a Mediterranean prototype but rather as an autochthonous
response utilising symbols that had appeared in Germanic (and indeed European) art since
the Bronze Age. Of course the idea of orthographic transmission must have been borrowed
from the cultures of the Mediterranean or Near East, but the form that this orthography
took is, in this approach, held to be a Germanic innovation.18 The creation of the script at
one time and at one place seems to be indicated by the standard form of the older fuþark,
with independent traditions appearing only after the Völkerwanderungszeit. It is also
extraordinary that the language of the older inscriptions, somewhat ahistorically termed
Primitive Norse,19 is considered by some linguists as a koiné, implying that these
inscriptions do not represent the dialects of Germanic of the time, but rather a standard
runic language.20 The autochthonous theory is undermined by the similarities between
runic and the Mediterranean scripts in the form of many of the characters, the number of
characters in the rune-row, the regular alphabetic rather than syllabic or semisyllabic
values, the representation of vowels and the continued use of pre-runic ideographs (such as
the swastika) that are sometimes found embedded in runic inscriptions. Hence the search
for a Mediterranean prototype of the Germanic script.
There were a number of scripts in use in Italy other than Greek, Etruscan and Latin in
the last centuries B.C. such as the four North Italic Alpine scripts of Lugano, Sondrio,
Bolzano and Magrè and the related Venetic script of Este. The first of these, as was first
clearly shown in 1970, was used by Celtic peoples of the Golasecca culture and later La
Tène Cisalpine Gallic invaders (who also adopted other Italic scripts such as Venetic and
Subpicenian). Further east, in Carinthia, another script was used by the Celtic Norici in a
region proximate to the northernmost Venetic finds. A modified Iberian script of the
Celtiberian peoples was employed in northern Spain and southern Gaul, and Celtic peoples
also used an Ionian Greek script borrowed from the Phocaean colonists at Massalia, only
adopting Latin letters after the creation of the Roman province of Gallia Narbonensis.21
The discovery of the Meldorf fibula, even if we accept that it bears only early or proto-
runes, pushes back the time for the adoption of writing by the ancient Germans to at least
about the time of Christ.22 Yet it is unlikely that this inscription represents the first native
Germanic attempt at orthographic representation. Such finds suggest, then, that the earliest
use of the runes pre-dates the Roman expansion to the Rhine and Danube. If this is the
case, then the most likely model for the runic script would be one of the scripts employed
by Celtic peoples in the last centuries B.C. noting the large amount of Celtic material
imports of this time which have been seen as indicative of the method of transmission of
much technology to the North.23 Indeed certain letters of the Celtiberian script show
remarkable similarities in form to runic, as do those of the Lugano, Noric, Venetic, Latin
and Greek scripts used by these peoples.
Nevertheless, orthographically the runic script is held in the handbooks to be most
similar to the North Italic alphabets. The comparisons, however, rely on not one particular
146 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

North Italic script, but rather an amalgam of the five mentioned above. This orthographic
preference is indicated in at least eleven of the North Italic characters, significantly more
than that of Latin or Greek.24 Yet the number of North Italic correspondences is reduced
significantly if each of the scripts is considered separately, which makes the comparison
charts, most of which are copied from Marstrander’s original contribution, rather
misleading. Solutions to this problem deriving solely from one-to-one comparisons of the
runes with Mediterranean scripts have in the main been unconvincing. A more successful
approach may be to study other criteria for the origin of the runic script.
We know one of the methods of divination employed by the Germanic peoples of the
first century thanks to a description by Tacitus. This divinatory practice that talks of
written symbols is described in the following passage in his Germania of A.D. 98:25
auspicia sortesque ut qui maxime observant. sortium consuetudo simplex. virgam frugiferae arbori decisam in
surculos amputant eosque notis quibusdam discretos super candidam vestam temere ac fortuito spargunt. mox, si
publice consultatur, sacerdos civitatis, sin privatim, ipse pater familae, precatus deos caelumque suspiciens, ter
singulos tollit, sublatos secundum impressam ante notam interpretatur.

Previously, under the influence of the autochthonous theory, these notae had been equated
with Germanic ideographs such as the swastika, triskelion, fulmen and tamgas. Yet from
the Classical Latin use of nota ‘indication, symbol, letter, cipher’, it seems that Tacitus, as
is his usual practice, has probably translated a Germanic expression. As we now know, due
to the discovery of the Meldorf fibula, that the Germanic peoples employed writing before
the time of Tacitus, this term can scarcely be any other than ‘rune’. What is probably our
earliest historical reference to Germanic writing is, therefore, connected with a cultic
discourse, an observation that agrees with interpretations of many of the early inscriptions
which stress their invocatory nature.26
Many of the early inscriptions state that they were written by an erilaz, a word that
evades a convincing etymology.27 One type of runic inscription that appears from an early
date is the setting out of the fuþark, often independent of any other message, a type of
inscription well known in other protoliterate societies such as that of the early Etruscans,
Latins, Greeks and Gauls.28 Considering the connotation of mastery in the Germanic root
*er-, the erilaz is best interpreted as a master of the runes and it is possible that the rune-
row inscriptions were intended to indicate that the writer was proficient in the use of the
fuþark; that he or she had been initiated into its use.29
Sometimes in these inscriptions the order of pairs of runestaves is reversed.30 These
alternations are best explained by a mechanical system underlying the order of the fuþark:
i.e. it was a group of paired characters. Obviously, then, the rune masters learned the
runestaves in pairs, and sometimes the order of some pairs was confused.
We also know the magical implication of many of these early runic inscriptions owing
to the appearance of words such as alu (cf. Hitt. alwanza- ‘bewitched, ensorcelled’, Gk.
alúō ‘be beside oneself’, Lett. aluôt ‘wander aimlessly’; OE ealu, OS alo-, ON o˛l, PG
*aluþ - ‘intoxicating beverage’ > ‘ale’) that can only be described as invocatory.31 A
notable example often promoted as representing a magical use of the runes is the
inscription on the fish-shaped bone piece from Lindholm. Not only does it include the
statement:32
ek erilaR sawilagaR ha(i)teka
‘I, the erilaR am known as SawilagaR’,
but the reverse contains an inscription that seems completely meaningless:
aaaaaaaa RRR nnn  b m u ttt : alu :
Some authors have suggested that both inscriptions were construed as 24 characters
long, as many as there are in the fuþark. A similar connection between the inscription and
number of characters has been seen in other inscriptions. Many such arguments are surely
far-fetched, yet the sequence of repeated runes on the Lindholm piece seems to indicate
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 147

some sort of cryptological, or considering later magical practices, a magico-religious

expression.33
It has also been observed by many linguists that the staves of the fuþark show
inadequate concern for the Germanic phonological system. The best known indication of
this is the appearance of the yew rune, which is usually represented by ı̈ in the grammars,
the phone that it represented being a matter of some dispute, but it is generally held to be
identical to that of the ice rune, i.e. an /i(:)/. The retention of what seems to be a
phonetically redundant character in an adopted script is very odd, and many different
theories have been proffered to explain this aberration.34
The name of each rune is also interesting for the question of the origin of the runes
because neither the Latin nor Greek scripts had meaningful acrophonic names for each
letter. It is also notable that some inscriptions suggest that the individual rune names were
known well enough to be used as ideographs rather than actually spelling out the lexeme so
represented. This suggests that the names may have been more than mere mnemonic
devices.35
It is noteworthy that a seemingly unconnected, lexically meaningless inscription has
come to light in Pompeii. This inscription is a series of Latin letters in pairs, the first letter
of each pairing starting with A and heading forward in the ABC, the second with X and
heading backward:36
AXBVCTDSER
The Pompeii inscription has been linked by Elmar Seebold to a practice known in Near
Eastern societies, divination by letters, especially in the form known to the Semites as ath-
bash.37 This system relied on pairs of letters grouped from alternate halves of the script, as
occurs in the Pompeii inscription. If the order of the Germanic rune-row is compared to
that of the Mediterranean scripts a similar pattern can be discerned. The sound values of
the fuþark when compared to the Mediterranean scripts indicate an ath-bash or a similar
mechanical pairing system, which, if Seebold is correct, was known to the Mediterranean
cultures in the centuries B.C.38
This is remarkable given the nature of the rune names recorded in medieval sources,
from which scholars have, through the comparative method, produced a series of Common
or Proto-Germanic names, one for each character of the older fuþark. The names seem to
appear mostly in semantic pairs and the ideas represented by these rune names can nearly
all be construed as pairs of complements or oppositions (e.g. the names of f and u are *fehu
and *ūruz, ‘cow, livestock, wealth’ and ‘aurochs’, tamed and untamed; þ and a are
*þurisaz and *ansuz, ‘giant’ and ‘god’, the cosmic opposites of the mythological world).39
Additionally, the rune pairs often seem to be semantically linked to other pairs. This
observation has led some runologists to make the controversial suggestion that the rune
names can be collected into three semantic groups of eight with the conceptual meanings
‘living thing’, ‘nature’, and ‘society’, groups that mirror the separation of the staves into
three eights or families (ON ættir) in medieval sources.40 This proposed system seems no
accident, and given the possible influence of an ath-bash or a similar mechanical
divinatory system as indicated by the paired order of the rune row, and the presence of
phonological inconsistencies such as the yew rune, the evidence points to an early
utilisation of the runic script in an oracular system. Thus it may be possible to rediscover
something of what Tacitus means when he speaks of divination by reading the cast
notae.41
Yet is there a direct connection between Mediterranean and northern uses of divinatory
writing? Seebold has not been able to demonstrate adequately a numerical system upon
which the rune-row is based that corresponds to another oracular system which would
provide a prototype for the underlying system of paired names and order of the fuþark,
although he has indicated mechanical parallels.42. Seebold believes that there is a direct
influence in the mantic use of writing among the semiliterate in the Mediterranean on the
148 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

Germanic script. He has not, however, been any more successful in demonstrating how
this connection was established than those who have previously sought to show an
orthographic connection between north and south. Although runologists have system-
atically sought to purge their field of an equation of inexplicable with magical in recent
years, Seebold’s argument cannot so easily be dismissed when we consider that systems of
alphabet magic are clearly evidenced in the orthographic traditions of the Mediterranean
world.43
We know of three types of Celtic divination that were observed by classical authors. The
first recounted by Diodorus required a human victim. The second mentioned by the same
author was ornithomancy, and a third was oracular incubation, mentioned by Nicander of
Colophon, where the Celts slept beside the ashes of the dead.44 It is interesting that the
Gauls did not practice divination by letters, since we know that they had a religious
implication for the Druids, and that this practice was widespread in the literate cultures.
Caesar remarks upon the Druidic distrust of writing, which he suggests is due to their
wish to maintain their oral culture. Despite this, he indicates the large-scale use of writing
among the Gauls for other purposes, and Druidic lore was committed to writing as is
witnessed by the Gaulish calenders, which makes his claim problematic.45 The prohibition
against writing in Gaulish society probably stems from some magico-religious taboo. We
know that there were other magico-religious figures in Gaulish society outside the body
classed as Druids. In addition, there are figures who can only be called sorcerers, and who
committed their beliefs to writing as is witnessed by the black magic text from the end of
the first century A.D. found at Hospitalet-du-Larzac in 1983. One of the women named
thereon is even designated lidssatim liciatim ‘a user of letters, a caster of lots’46 It is
possible that the proscription on writing noted by Caesar was linked to the divination by
letters by non-Druids in Celtic society.
An argument from silence is particularly hazardous in such an early period but there
have been previous attempts to link runic with Celtic epigraphy. The g rune, for example,
has been seen as a loan from Gallo-Latin orthography where Gaulish [x] was represented
by X, a retention from Gallo-Greek, and this rune has always been seen as good evidence
for the source of the adoption of the runes, as most scripts do not employ a similar
character for /g/. More controversially, Marstrander links the d rune with the formally
identical character that usually represented the Old Celtic dental affricative in the Lugano
and Cisalpine Gallo-Latin inscriptions. We might also note that the Irish orthography,
Ogham, is the only European writing system roughly contemporary to the early use of
runes that also reserved a separate sign for [n].47
The rune name *perþaz has also been connected etymologically with Celtic (OE peorð,
Goth. pertra, OIr. qe(i)rt, Welsh perth, ‘bush’ < Celtic *kwert). The name probably
indicates a cultic discourse related to wood, and has been linked to the Gaulish
goddess Perta, as well as Ogham, the oldest letter names of which include a q-Celtic
qe(i)rt and were mostly taken from the names of trees. Two of the other rune names
are also those of trees: *berkanan `birch (twigs)', and *ı̄waz `yew'. Although not good
evidence for a connection specifically to Ogham, this does indicate a mystical
association of wood and letters.48 More tellingly, however, as Proto-Germanic
inherited no initial */p/ from Indo-European (which has very few clear examples of
initial */b/), we should not expect an acrophonic Germanic rune name for p, but
rather one containing the common medial Germanic /p/. Indeed, the Celtic p/q
allophony appears to be reflected in the Old English and Gothic names for characters
denoting the voiceless labiovelar, cweorð and quertra.49
There is also a semantic connection between wood and omens in Insular Celtic that has
been linked with the process recounted by Tacitus. In Irish the consulting of oracles is
indicated by crann chur, ‘casting wood’. In Cornish there is a similar expression teulel
pren, again ‘casting wood’, and which is linked with Breton prendenn‘destiny’. Similarly,
Welsh coelbren ‘consult wood’, which is connected to blaen brenn ‘good luck’, later
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 149

comes to mean ‘alphabet’ in the expression coelbren y beirdd. Indeed the use of Ogham
signs carved on wooden rods in a divination in the Leabhar na nUidhri recension of
Tochmarc Étaine, added to the arboreal allusions obvious in the terminology used to
describe the Ogham signs (feda ‘wood’ and flesc ‘twig’) which are clearly reminiscent of
terms used in runic discourse (corresponding to staff and branch), completes a semantic
triad of wood, omens and letters in Insular Celtic sources, one reminiscent of the ceremony
recounted by Tacitus.50
Perhaps the most important piece of evidence, however, is the etymology of the word
used to describe the inscriptions themselves. As the linguistic correspondences between
Celtic and Germanic are so few and so late, it has long been recognised that the common
vocabulary, most of which probably represents loanwords, or at least conterminous
development, can tell us much about the early contacts between the Celtic and Germanic
worlds.51 The Germanic word ‘rune’ is clearly one such term. Gothic runa, OE run, ON
rún have the meaning ‘secret, mystery’, cognate in no other IE dialect save the similarly
meaning OIr. rún and Welsh rhin, though the respective phonologies of these terms
prevents the analysis that would clearly indicate to which language the term is native and
to which it is loaned.52 Yet there are also a number of related Celto-Germanic isoglosses of
a similar semantic sphere, which together with ‘rune’ may form a body of divinatory
terminology. Prominent among such terms are common words for ‘poet, seer’ (Gaul.
vates, OIr. fáith, OE woþbora ), ‘confess, speak’ (Welsh iaith, Bret. iez, OHG jiht, OS
gehan), ‘tell, speak’ (OIr. rádim, MWelsh adraud, Goth. rodjan, ON ræDa), and even the
name of the famous Germanic seeress Veleda (MIr. fili, pl. filid).53
If the transmission of writing to the North occurred during the late pre-Roman Iron Age,
it is probable that this happened at a time before Caesar and tribes such as the Marcomanni
brought the Roman and Germanic worlds face-to-face on the Rhine-Danube frontier.
Although the possibility of mercantile contacts via the northern sea routes remains
possible, it is likely that the Germanic peoples first learned the use of writing through the
agency of their Celtic neighbours who separated them from the Mediterranean cultures as
is evidenced in a number of striking correspondences between the Celtic and Germanic
orthographical traditions. The runic inscribers themselves believed that the runes were
taught to them by the gods, a story remembered by the Eddic Hávamál, as did the Irish of
their script named after the deity Oghma.54
Rather than relying on preconceived theories of the origin of writing in preliterate
societies, we have considered the evidence of the oldest runic finds. As continued
archaeological field work pushes the date of the adoption of the runes further back, the
possibility of a borrowing from a Celtic use of Greek, Latin or the more orthographically
similar Etruscan-based Lugano or Noric scripts seems ever more likely. The orthographic
evidence for the origin of the fuþark has never been able to indicate an absolute preference
for any of the three Mediterranean alphabets, probably because of a genetic relationship
between Greek, Etruscan and Latin.55 The similarities between North Italic, Greek and
Latin scripts, therefore, may preclude a definitive answer on orthographic grounds.
Etymological grounds do point to a confluence of thought between Celtic and Germanic
ideas with regard to the mystical association of letters. The isogloss represented by the
Germanic expression ‘rune’ may point to, if not a Celtic provenance of the fuþark, then at
least a strong influence in its creation.56 Of the scripts used by Celtic peoples, the Lugano
script is attested the earliest (6th century B.C.) and the Greek letters were borrowed by the
Transalpine Gauls sometime after the foundation of Massalia in the sixth century. The
Celtiberian orthography was derived from the Punic-based Iberian script in the third
century, and the use of Latin begins late in the second century B.C. in Gaul, gradually
spreading north with Roman conquest.57 More importantly, the Helvetii, a Celtic tribe who
neighboured the Germanic world of the last centuries B.C. were known to employ Greek
letters up to the time of the Gallic War, which may be correlated by a brief inscription on a
vase from Manching and a stamped Gallo-Greek legend on a sword from Port, Canton de
150 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

Berne, both finds of the late La Tène period.58 Any earlier inscriptional finds will
definitely preclude an origin directly from Roman sources, and the balance of probability
given the timeframes for the other scripts speaks against the Latin thesis as most recently
argued by Bengt Odenstedt and Henrik Williams.59 Many of the runic characters may well
have been taken from the Lugano script, which underwent mutation between its earliest
(Lepontic) use and the later Cisalpine Gallic period, and Lugano inscriptions are found
from the banks of the Rhône to as far east as Celtic Noricum where another Etruscan-based
script was also employed.60 Additionally, the Lugano script shows some features of the
Celtiberian script, another orthographically similar script, with many rune-like char-
acters.61 The northern provenance of the earliest finds probably merely indicates an
adoption before the last century invasions of the Marcomanni et al. The scripts used by the
Celtic tribes of central Europe are not well known to us, though the Helvetii are reported to
have used Greek letters, and the Boii of Northern Italy used the Lugano script which may
have been employed by other Boii at Manching or in Bohemia.62 Tacitus also tells us that
there existed in his time memorial inscriptions in Greek letters on the border of Germany
and Raetia that are usually taken for North Italic letters (as the designation Greek was also
used by Roman writers to apply to Etruscan inscriptions) and North Italic inscriptions have
been found at Manching (though they have been explained away by some archaeologists
as imports).63 The early influence of these central European Celtic tribes in Germanic
society is indicated by the use of the name of the Celtic Volcae Tectosages in Germanic as
a designation for all southerners, whether Celtic or Romanic.64 Furthermore, the probable
creation of the runes at one place and one time, the consistent use of the older fuþark in a
more or less standard form for centuries (including the rune names), the suggestion of a
runic koiné and the spread of runic use to all of the Germanic tribes may indicate a learned
class of pan-Germanic rune masters. This class is likely to have adopted the fuþark for
magico-religious purposes. Whether a magico-religious usage was the primary employ-
ment of the runes is not clear, but what is probably the earliest historical description of
runes indicates their use in such a context. Although many of the features associated with
the Germanic script may well be secondary developments, the influence of a foreign
magico-religious tradition as indicated by the mechanical principle that underlies the order
of the rune-row implies an adoption from an orthographic culture with a similar magico-
religious tradition. The connection between Celtic superstition, Celtic orthography and the
well known dependence of the North on the Celtic transmission of technology in the last
centuries B.C. all point to a Celtic transmission of the runes.

Abbreviations

AcS A. Holder, Alt-celtische Sprachschatz, 3 vols, Leipzig 1896–1907.

CIL Corpus inscriptionum Latinarum, 17 vols, Berlin 1861 ff.
IEW J. Pokorny, Indogermanisches etymologisches Wörterbuch, 2 vols, Bern 1959–69.

University of Melbourne
Australia

NOTES
1 This is the position taken by the best known handbooks: R. W. V. Elliot, Runes, An Introduction, Manchester
1959, pp. 3–13; L. Musset (F. Mossé), Introduction à la runologie, Paris 1965, pp. 42–55; W. Krause, Runen,
Berlin 1970, pp. 35–45; K. Düwel, Runenkunde, 2nd ed., Stuttgart 1983, pp. 90–95; R. I. Page, Runes, London
1987, p. 4, or in works with a more general scope of survey such as C.-J. Hutterer, Die germanischen
Sprachen, 3rd ed., Budapest 1990, pp. 105–107 and D. Diringer, The Alphabet, A Key to the History of
Mankind, 2 vols, 3rd ed., London 1968, I, pp. 402 f. Some recent authors such as Erik Moltke, Bengt Odenstedt
and Henrik Williams favour the Latin thesis; others such as Elmer Antonsen remain more cautious: E. H.
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 151

Antonsen, ‘Zum Ursprung und Alter des germanischen Fuþarks’, in E. Dick and K. Jankowsky (eds),
Festschrift für Karl Schneider, Amsterdam 1982, pp. 3–15; E. Moltke, Runes and their Origin, Denmark and
Elsewhere, 2nd ed., trans. P. G. Foote, Copenhagen 1985, pp. 38–73; B. Odenstedt, On the Origin and Early
History of the Runic Script, Uppsala 1990, pp. 145–173; H. Williams, ‘The Origin of the Runes’, Amsterdamer
Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik 45, 1996, pp. 211–218.
2 L. F. A. Wimmer, ‘Runeskriftens Oprindelse og Udvikling i Norden’, Aarbøger for nordisk Oldkyndighed og
Historie, 1874, pp. 1–270; idem, Die Runenschrift, trans. F. Holthausen, Berlin 1887. Earlier contributions are
discussed in H. Arntz, Handbuch der Runenkunde, Halle an der Saale 1935, pp. 6–12.
3 S. Bugge, ‘Om Runeskriftens Begyndelser’, Beretning om Forhandlingerne paa det 5te nordiske
Filologmøde, Kjøbenhavn 1899, p. 57; O. von Friesen, ‘Om runeskriftens härkomst’, Språkvetenskapliga
Sällskapet i Uppsala, Förhandlingar, 1904–6.
4 C. J. S. Marstrander, ‘Om runene og runenavnenes oprindelse’, Norsk tidsskrift for sprogvidenskap 1, 1928,
pp. 85–188; M. Hammarström, ‘Om runeskriftens härkomst’, Studier i nordisk filologi 20, 1930, pp. 1–67.
5 S. Opitz, ‘South Germanic Runic Inscriptions in the Older Futhark: Some Notes on Research’, in B. Brogyanyi
and T. Krömmelbein (eds), Germanic Dialects Linguistic and Philological Investigations, Amsterdam 1986,
p. 467.
6 Of course both Pedersen and Marstrander were also Celticists. The Negau B inscription dates to a similar or
slightly earlier period to the Meldorf fibula, but is written in (sinistroverse) Venetic script. Notably,
Marstrander was the first to interpret this inscription as Germanic, which is probably an indication of the
influence of the inscription in the development of his thesis. The Maria Saalerberg fake had a similar influence
as can clearly be seen in Georg Baesecke’s article that first connected Cimbri to the runes, as well as inspiring
Heinrich Hempel’s thesis that was further developed by Helmut Arntz. The Alpengermanen were based on the
Tylangii and Daliterni of Avienus, Ora Maritima 674 f., the ‘semigermane gentes’ of Livy 21, 38, 8, the Acta
Triumphalia inscription de Galleis Insubribus et Germ[an(eis)] commemorating the triumph of M. Claudius
Marcellus (CIL 1, a.u.c. 532), and the Gaesatae of Polybios 2, 34, and have even been suggested to be Celtic
Germani. H. Pedersen, ‘Runernes oprindelse’, Aarbøger for nordisk Oldkyndighed og Historie 13, 1923, pp.
37–82; C. J. S. Marstrander, ‘Les Inscriptions des casques de Negau’, Symbolae Osloenses 3, 1925, pp. 37–64;
G. Baesecke, ‘Die Herkunft der Runen’, Germanisch–Romanishe Monatsschrift 22, 1934, pp. 413–417; H.
Hempel, ‘Der Ursprung der Runenschrift’, Germanisch–Romanische Monatsschrift 23, 1935, pp. 401–426; H.
Arntz, Handbuch der Runenkunde, 2nd ed., Halle an der Saale 1944, pp. 61–64; H. Schmeja, Der Mythos der
Alpengermanen, Wien 1968. For a summary of the debate since Wimmer see A. Kabell, ‘Periculum runicum’,
Norsk tidsskrift for sprogvidenskap 21, 1967, pp. 94–126 and Düwel, pp. 90–95.
7 F. Altheim and E. Trautmann, Vom Ursprung der Runen, Frankfurt am Main 1939, pp. 47 ff. A similar theory
has more recently been proposed by Otto Höfler based on a dubious interpretation of one of the Negau A
helmet inscriptions and the equation, following Bugge and von Friesen, of the tribal Heruli with the unclear
runic term erilaz; O. Höfler, ‘Herkunft und Ausbreitung der Runen’, Die Sprache 17, 1971, pp. 134–156.
8 Modern Himmerland in medieval sources appears as Himbersysæl, and Thy as Tythesysæl, which is clearly
related to ON þjo ð ‘people’; H. Krahe, Sprache und Vorzeit, Heidelberg 1954, p. 133. Ptolemy (Geographica
2, 10), however, seems to place the Cimbri of his time further north, perhaps in Vendsyssel and the Teutones
further south. It is possible that some Cimbri and Teutones returned north to be indicated by Ptolemy, but of
this we have no evidence, as the ancestors of the surviving peoples of the time of Ptolemy may never have
joined the original exodus, which was not significant enough to be seen in the archaeological record. O.
Klindt–Jensen, ‘Foreign Influences in Denmark’s Early Iron Age’, trans. W. E. Calvert, Acta Archaeologica
20, 1949, p. 196, links the Cimbrian exodus to the opening up of trading links with the Celtic South.
9 J. Jensen, The Prehistory of Denmark, London 1982, p. 167.
10 The first record of the name of a Germanic tribe is by Pytheas of Massalia in Pliny, N.H. 37, 35. The German
ethnography of Poseidonios (fl. c. 90 B.C.) was used by Caesar, B.G. 6, 21–28.
11 H. J. Eggers, ‘Zur absoluten Chronologie der römischen Kaiserzeit in freien Germanien’, Jahrbuch des
Römisch–Germanischen Zentralmuseum Mainz 2, 1955, pp. 196–244 (now reprinted in H. Temporini and W.
Haase (eds), Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt, Berlin 1972 ff., II, 5/1, pp. 3–64); G. Ekholm,
‘Kragehulplattan. Ett obeaktat rundokument’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi 57, 1959, pp. 112–114.
12 A. G. Brodeur, ‘The Riddle of the Runes’, University of California Publications in English 3/1, 1932, pp. 14–
15; H. Birkhan, Germanen und Kelten bis zum Ausgang der Römerzeit, Wien 1970, pp. 167 ff.; R. L. Morris,
Runic and Mediterranean Epigraphy, Odense 1988; F. Kaul, ‘The Gundestrup Cauldron Reconsidered’, trans.
D. Robinson, Acta Archaeologica 66, 1995, pp. 1–38; F. Kaul and J. Martens, ‘Southeast European Influences
in the Early Iron Age of Southern Scandinavia: Gundestrup and the Cimbri’, trans. P. Crabb, Acta
Archaeologica 66, 1995, pp. 111–161.
13 CIL 13, 7776–8860 & 11981–12086; H. Birkhan, ‘Die keltischen“ Personnennamen des boiischen
Großsilbers’, Die Sprache 17, 1971, pp. 28–30; K. Düwel and ” M. Gebühr, ‘Die Fibel von Meldorf und die
Anfänge der Runenschrift’, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und deutsche Literatur 110, 1981, p. 170; R.
Nedoma, Die Inschrift auf dem Helm B von Negau, Wien 1995; M. Dietz, E. Marold and H. Jöns, ‘Eine
frühkaiserzeitliche Scherbe mit Schriftzeichen aus Osterrönfeld, Kr. Rendsburg-Eckenförde’, Archäolo-
gisches Korrespondenzblatt 26, 1996, pp. 179–189; B. Mees, ‘A New Interpretation of the Meldorf Fibula
Inscription’, Zeitschrift für deutsches Altertum und deutsche Literatur 126, 1997, pp. 131–139.
152 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

14 For a recent summary of these ideas see J. Collis, The European Iron Age, London 1984, pp. 15–20. On
mercantile contacts see H. J. Eggers, Der römische Import im freien Germanien, Hamburg 1951, p. 42.
15 Odenstedt, Origin, pp. 171 f.
16 R. Much, Die Germania des Tacitus erläutert, Heidelberg 1934, p. 158; M. Waas, Germanen im römischen
Dienst, 2nd ed., Bonn 1971, pp. 1–3; L. Hedeager, Iron Age Societies, From Tribe to State in Northern Europe
500 BC – AD 700, trans. J. Hines, Oxford 1992, passim; G. Rausing, ‘The Origin of the Runes’, Fornvännen
87, 1992, pp. 200–205; A. Quak, ‘Nochmal Einmal die Latein-These’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren
Germanistik 45, 1996, pp. 171–179; H. Williams, ‘The Romans and the Runes—The Uses of Writing In
Germania’, in S. Nyström (ed.), Runor och ABC, Stockholm 1997, pp. 177–192.
17 The Thorsberg chape inscription probably includes a reference to Ullr, and Donar and Wodan are clearly
mentioned on the Nordendorf fibula.
18 R. M. Meyer, ‘Runenstudien. I. Die urgermanischen runen’, Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache
und Literatur 21, 1896, pp. 162–84. Of course the autochthonous theory was subsequently linked to the
concept of an Indo-European Urschrift. Such a linkage, however, received little support until Gustav Neckel
developed the notion of an Urverwandtschaft of the runes with the Mediterranean scripts in his review of the
North Etruscan thesis in Deutsche Literaturzeitung 50, 1929, pp. 1237–1239.
19 For a critique of this term see E. H. Antonsen, ‘Linguistics and Politics in the 19th Century’, Michigan
Germanic Studies 6, 1980, pp. 1–16.
20 H. F. Nielsen, The Germanic Languages, Origins and Early Dialectal Interrelations, 2nd ed., Tuscaloosa
1989, p. 5; E. A. Makaev, The Language of the Oldest Runic Inscriptions, trans. J. Meredig, Stockholm 1996,
pp. 23–48; See, however, Antonsen, ‘Die ältesten Runeninschriften’, pp. 340–343.
21 There has in the past been a confusion of Greek and Lugano orthography which has seen many apparently
Greek inscriptions reclassified as Lugano in recent years. The early (Lepontic) Lugano script included a form
of theta whose presence in an inscription has been used sometimes incorrectly as indicative of Greek. Lugano
inscriptions have been found as far west as Gallia Narbonensis and to the east in Noricum; M. Lejeune,
‘Documents gaulois et para–gaulois de Cisalpine’, Etudes celtiques 12, 1970–71, pp. 337–500 = Lepontica,
Paris 1971; A. L. Prosdocimi and P. Solinas, ‘The Language and Writing of the Early Celts’, in S. Moscati et
al. (eds), The Celts, London 1991, p. 56.
22 Düwel, p. 144. Antonsen has also consistently maintained that there is evidence for spellings that seem to
indicate retentions from an orthographic tradition that represented earlier forms of Germanic; E. H. Antonsen,
‘Runes and Romans on the Rhine’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik 45, 1996, pp. 10 f.
23 Even the prototype upon which the Meldorf fibula was based is Celtic. The present author holds that the
cultural dependency of the Germanic world on their Celtic neighbours, however, is not as marked as some
archaeologists such as Ole Klindt-Jensen and historical linguists such as Henry d’Arbois de Jubainville and his
successors Sigmund Feist and Myles Dillon have supposed. H. d’Arbois de Jubainville, Celtes et Germains,
Paris 1886; S. Feist, Indogermanen und Germanen, 3rd ed., Halle an der Saale 1924, pp. 74–77; M. Dillon,
‘Germanic and Celtic’, Journal of English and Germanic Philology 17, 1943, pp. 492–98; Klindt-Jensen,
passim.
24 Most published tallies of the number of one-to-one correspondences between each script and runic are
teleological or even self-contradictory. Moltke (p. 55), for example, seems to ignore the evidence of the tables
he has assembled (p. 50). From his total of ten North Etruscan correspondences (only nine of which are
described in his comparative table), at least one is missing (i.e. b). Similarly, it is surely perverse to maintain a
preference in comparison for Latin letters such as L or S when there are North Etruscan characters that are
identical to l and the three early variants of s.
25 Tac., Germ. 10. Cf. Plutarch, Marius 15, 4; Caesar, B.G. 1, 50; Much, p. 131; A. Mentz, ‘Die notae der
Germanen bei Tacitus’, Rheinisches Museum für Philologie 86, 1937, pp. 193–205; and S. F. Bonner,
Education in Ancient Rome, London 1997, p. 168.
26 Arnzt, pp. 223–248. Nota clearly has the implication of identification, and does not mean merely ‘notch,
mark’; P. G. W. Glare (ed.), Oxford Latin Dictionary, Oxford 1982, pp. 1191 f. Here of course lies the inherent
weakness of the argument of R. L. Morris, ‘Northwest Germanic rūna >rune<. A case of homonymy with Go.
rūna >mystery<’, Beiträge zur Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 107, 1985, pp. 344–358. He
asserts that the connection of mysterion to a concept which implies communication is incongruent. If the script
was in the earliest times a magico–religious expression, as Tacitus seems to indicate, then this connection is
completely reconcilable, and obviates the need for a circuitous etymology that relies on a discrete homonymy.
27 It has often been connected either with ON jarl, or the ethnicon Heruli; Makaev, pp. 34–41. A satisfactory
explanation is yet to appear, though it appears to derive from a Germanic stem indicating mastery (cf. OHG
irmin ‘great’, OE eorl, OS erl ‘lord’); IEW 326, 328.
28 There are nine of these inscriptions: from Kylver, Lindkær, Vadstena, Grumpan, Aquincum, Breza, Charnay,
Beuchte and Gudme. Those of Aquincum, Beuchte and Gudme, however, do not progress beyond the first ætt.
The earliest, the Kylver fuþark, can only roughly be dated from c. A.D. 1–400.
29 Despite the masculine grammatical gender of the term, there is no doubt that some of the inscriptions can be
shown to be socially gendered. At least two inscriptions were incontrovertibly written by women and it has
long been recognised that the Germanic priesthood was substantially if not exclusively female in origin. In
addition, in ON sources seiðr is designated as belonging to the sphere of women, an assignation perhaps
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 153

observed in Tac., Germ. 8. Opitz, p. 466; P. Scardigli, ‘Das Problem der suebischen Kontinuität und die
Runeninschrift von Neudingen/Baar’, in H. Beck (ed.), Germanenprobleme in heutiger Sicht, Berlin 1986, pp.
350 f.; E. C. Polomé, ‘Germanic Religion: An Overview’, in idem, Essays in Germanic Religion, Washington
D.C. 1989, p. 83.
30 In the Kylver stone inscription the ninth pair p and ı̈ are reversed. The rune–row inscriptions also show an
ambivalence as to the order of the last pair, d and o, one even evident in the manuscript tradition. Even more
significantly, in the Lindkær/Over Hornbæk inscription the positions of two pairs, t, b and R, s, are reversed.
31 E. C. Polomé, ‘Beer, Runes and Magic’, Journal of Indo–European Studies 24, 1996, pp. 99–105; cf. IEW 33 f.
For a summary of discussions of magical discourses, most of which are rejected by present–day runologists,
see K. M. Nielsen, ‘Runen und Magie’, Frühmittelalterliche Studien 19, 1985, pp. 75–97.
32 W. Krause with H. Jankuhn, Die Runeninschriften im älteren Futhark, 2 vols, Göttingen 1966, no. 29, pp. 69–
72. The fifteenth character in the second inscription is illegible. For an explanation of what appears to be the
deliberate omission of a rune here in haiteka and in other inscriptions see W. P. Lehmann, ‘Vant er stafs vı́fi—
am. 12.9: “the woman omitted a stave”’, in E. Dick and K. Jankowsky (eds), Festschrift für Karl Schneider,
Amsterdam 1982, pp. 43–48.
33 The magical connection in this inscription has long been promoted owing to the survival of a runic tradition in
the alliterative Icelandic kvennagaldur love charm Risti eg þe r asa atta, nauðir nıu, þussa þretta n and the
almost identical practice in the Galdrabok spell (no. 46): Skriff desser staffer a kalffskind huit med blod
þinum … og mæl, Rist æg þ (ier) Otte ausse Naudir Nije þossa ðrettan. This and the emphasis on naming
evident in the almost formulaic statements of some of the inscriptions are considered at some length in S. E.
Flowers, Runes and Magic Magical Formulaic Elements in the Older Runic Tradition, New York 1986.
34 The character was once seen as representing an ill–defined front vowel of the region from [e(:)] to [i(:)]. Some
linguists hold that the yew rune, the use of which died out relatively quickly, represented a PG /i:/ < IE */ei/
whereas the ice rune represented PG /i:/ < IE */i:/ and suggest that this differentiation stems from either a very
early time when this difference could still be noted or that the value of the yew rune was influenced by an
eastern Celtic dialect where there was a late monophthongisation of */ei/. Antonsen somewhat controversially
holds that the yew rune stands for his Proto–Germanic vowel /æ:/, though his arguments make no attempt to
reconcile the value of the vowel indicated by the acrophonic names. Krause, who maintains that it was the ice
rune that originally signified /ei/, attests the value /i(:)/ for the yew rune in at least two early inscriptions. It
should also be noted that /ei/ is not monophthongised in the first century Negau B inscription
HARIXASTITEIVA///IP, the Finnish loan teivas, or in the name (in the dative) of the second century
Germanic goddess ALATEIVIAE (CIL 13, 8606). Leo Connolly has been unable to prove a reading /i¯(:)/ from
the evidence of the inscriptions in his laryngealist interpretation. Nor have recent attempts to prove that the
thirteenth rune originally represented [ç] (as it comes to do in some late English inscriptions) been convincing
as this value is merely an allophone of the phoneme represented by h. M. I. Steblin–Kamenskij, ‘Noen
fonologiske betrakninger over de eldre runer’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi 77, 1962, pp. 1–6; Birkhan, pp. 175–
180; E. H. Antonsen, A Concise Grammar of the Oldest Runic Inscriptions, Tübingen 1970, pp. 2–6; idem,
‘Ursprung und Alter’, pp. 10–12; Krause, pp. 27, 35; L. A. Connolly, ‘The Rune and the Germanic Vowel
System’, Amsterdamer Beiträge zur älteren Germanistik 14, 1979, pp. 1–32; O. Grønvik, Runene på
Tunesteinen, Olso 1989, pp. 29–32; Makaev, pp. 57–59. Other characters that have been seen as redundant
phonologically are n (which does not represent a phoneme) and R (although this staff is now usually equated
with PG */z/).
35 E. H. Antonsen, ‘On the Typology of the Older Runic Inscriptions’, Scandinavian Studies 52, 1980, pp. 4 f.
36 CIL 4, 2541. The ordering in this inscription obviously predates the introduction of Greek Y and Z to the Latin
alphabet in the late Republican period.
37 E. Seebold, ‘Was haben die Germanen mit den Runen gemacht? Und wieviel haben sie davon von ihren
antiken Vorbilden gelernt?’, in B. Brogyanyi and T. Krömmelbein (eds), Germanic Dialects Linguistic and
Philological Investigations, Amsterdam 1986, pp. 543–548. The Semitic letters also had acrophonic names.
38 The usual order is: fuþarkgw:hnijı̈pRs:tbemlndo. The staves a, b, d, e, f, g, h, ı̈, k, l are paired with þ, t, o, m,
u, w, n, p, r, n (or in alphabetic order: m, n, o, p, r, t, u, w, þ, n). The pairs that do not fit this scheme are i, j
and R, s which may be due to the influence of the rare and somewhat troublesome staves ı̈ and R. A dependence
on the Mediterranean ordering is clearly described in these pairs, especially in those for which the one-to-one
correspondences with alphabetic characters are fairly clear such as f, u; r, k; h, n; t, b; and e, m. Thus is
answered Moltke’s complaint that ‘the ordering of the runes is … bewildering’, and so, contrary to the opinion
that he expresses later, the order of the fuþark is based upon that used by the Mediterranean cultures; Moltke,
pp. 6, 65.
39 Owing to the disputable forms and meanings of the PG rune names, this pattern cannot be shown for all the
pairs of names. It is shown in the following pairs (following Düwel, pp. 106–10): f, u; þ, a; i *isaz ‘ice’, j
*jeran ‘(fruitful) year’; e *ehwaz ‘horse’, m *mannaz ‘man’; and l *laguz ‘water’ (or *laukaz ‘fertility’), n
*ingwaz, the earth and fertility god Ing. Of those pairs with disputed meanings for either or both rune names
the pattern can reasonably be constructed for r *raidō ‘ride, travel’, k *kaunan (?) ‘sickness (burning)’; g
*gebō ‘gift’, w *wunjō? ‘joy’; ı̈ *ı̄waz ‘yew’, p *perþō ‘?holy or fruit tree’; d *dagaz ‘day’, o *ōþalan
‘hereditary possession’. The rune paired with s *sōwilō ‘sun’, R *algiz, has no clear meaning. Only the names
for h and n, *hagalaz ‘hail’, *naudiz ‘need, necessity’ (perhaps two forms of disaster) and t and b, *tı̄waz, the
154 B. Mees Studia Neophil 71 (1999)

sky god Týr or merely ‘god’, *berkanan ‘birch (twig)’ (perhaps ‘god’ as opposed to the virga frugiferae arbori
of Tacitus) speak against this interpretation. The usual criticism of making too much of the rune names (e.g.
Page, pp. 11 f.) is thus answered by the demonstration of a system whereby these names have a demonstrable
magico–religious use: the reading of omens. For earlier contributions that considered the rune names as paired
see E. Brate, ‘Runradens ordningsföljd’, Arkiv för nordisk filologi 36, 1920, pp. 193–207; and F. von der
Leyen, ‘Die germanische Runenreihe und ihre Namen’, Zeitschrift für Völkerkunde, Neue Folge 2, 1930, pp.
170–182.
40 The ættir had ON names: Frøys ætt, Hagals ætt and Tys ætt and are so separated in the Vadstena rune–row.
Like the Ogham aicme, they are named from the first character of each ætt: *fehu (later corrupted to Freyr),
*hagalaz and *ıt̄waz; Elliot, p. 14, n. 2. Seebold has obviously borrowed this interpretation from the earlier,
controversial work of Sigurd Agrell who sought to relate the ættir to the three spheres of Greek divinatory
practice. S. Agrell, ‘Die spätantike Alphabetmystik und die Runenreihe’, Kungliga Humanistika Vetenskaps–
Samfundet i Lund Årsberättelse 1931–32, pp. 155–210.
41 Seebold, pp. 536–538.
42 The numerical system implied by his interpretation is not properly binary as is typical of near eastern
3
geomatria, but rather a combination of a binary and a triadic system of order 2 .3
43 The clearest Mediterranean connection between writing and magico-religious efficacy is found in the
devotional alphabetic inscriptions of Este that have previously been linked with the characters on the
Kitzbühel sticks, and which in turn have been linked with the notae of Tacitus; R. Pittioni, ‘Zur Frage nach der
Herkunft der Runen und ihrer Verdankerung in der Kultur der europäischer Bronzezeit’, Beiträge zur
Geschichte der deutschen Sprache und Literatur 65, 1942, pp. 373–384; M. Lejeune, ‘Les Plaques de bronze
votives du sanctuaire vénète d’Este’, Revue des etudes anciennes 55, 1953, pp. 58–112; O. Haas, ‘Die
Herkunft der Runenschrift’, Orbis 14, 1965, pp. 216–236.
44 Diod. Sic. 5, 31; Nicander fragment 117 in A. S. F. Gow and A. F. Schofield, Nicander, The Poems and
Poetical Fragments, Cambridge 1953, p. 218; J.-L. Brunaux, The Celtic Gauls, Gods Rites and Sanctuaries,
trans. D. Nash, London 1988, p. 133.
45 Caesar, B.G. 6, 14; cf. Diod. Sic. 5, 28 which probably preserves another Gaulish orthographic suspicion.
46 M. Lejeune et al., ‘Textes gaulois et gallo-romains en cursive latine: 3. Le plomb du Larzac’, Etudes celtiques
22, 1985, pp. 95–177 = idem, Le Plomb magique du Larzac et les sorcières gaulois, Paris 1985. See also P.-Y.
Lambert, La Langue gauloise, Paris 1995, pp. 149–178.
47 Pedersen, pp. 43 f.; Marstrander, pp. 108–113; Krause, p. 40. The Negau B inscription uses the Venetic X for
( ). Note that the value [n] attributed to the Ogham sign may be a product of the Irish manuscript tradition; D.
McManus, A Guide to Ogam, Maynooth 1991, pp. 37 f.
48 AcS 2, 970 f.; Musset, pp. 135, 177 f. Note that the rune name paired with this rune is also a tree name: the yew
rune. Of course Marstrander, pp. 124 ff.; and Seebold, p. 540, probably go too far in seeking to link other
Ogham and runic letter names. Pedersen, pp. 78 f., also links the name of the b rune with the equivalent
Ogham letter (beithe ‘birch’), and points out the common use of families (aicme). The aicme and the order of
Ogham are probably based, however, on theories of late Latin grammarians.
49 Of course this rune name is not the only with a link to Celtic as the name of the r rune *raidō is also isoglossic
only to Celtic terms. The two IE stems of Pokorny (IEW 861) would seem to preclude any attempt to prove an
early loan in either direction for this term, though the complementary term *marhaz ‘(riding) horse’ seems to
be a Celtic loan (and ultimately stems from a non-IE source); cf. Gaul. Marco-, Galatian markan (acc. sg.
Pausanias 10, 19, 11), OIr. marc, Welsh march, Bret marc’h; OE mearh, ON marr, OHG marah.
50 Tochmarc Etaine 18 (ed. E. Windisch, Irische Texte I) J. Loth, ‘Le Sort chez les Germains et les Celtes, Revue
celtique 16, 1895, pp. 313 f.
51 See, most recently, K. H. Schmidt, ‘The Celts and the Ethnogenesis of the Germanic Peoples’, Historische
Sprachforschung 104, 1991, pp. 139–152.
52 There have been many discussions since W. Grimm, Ueber deutsche Runen, Göttingen 1821, p. 68, including
G. Dumézil, Les Dieux des Germains, Paris 1938, p. 24, n. 3; T. H. Wilbur, ‘The Word Rune’, Scandinavian
Studies 29, 1957, pp. 12–18; and most recently Morris, ‘Northwest Germanic rūna >rune<’. A similar problem
occurs with the isogloss of terms for ‘iron’ (Gaul. Isarno-, Goth. eisarn), yet as the Celts were clearly
responsible for the transmission of ironworking technology to the North, Germanic ‘iron’ is almost certainly a
loan from Celtic.
53 Tac., Germ. 8; Hist. 4, 61; Krahe, p. 139. Latin vates ‘soothsayer’ is probably a loan from Celtic.
54 Havamal 140; In Lebor Ogaim 5481 ff.
55 Morris’ assertion that the Etruscan-based scripts are unlikely to have been the prototype for the runes because
there was no differentiation between voiced and voiceless stops in Etruscan is unsatisfactory. Not only was
there confusion of this kind in early Latin (between G and C) and in runic (especially between b and p), the
North Italic scripts could differentiate between voiced and voiceless stops (as they clearly did in Venetic), just
as they preserved O which represented a phoneme unknown in Etruscan. Morris, Runic and Mediterranean
Epigraphy, pp. 6–7; Odenstedt, Origin, pp. 79–82; M. Lejeune, ‘Documents gaulois et para-gaulois de
Cisalpine’, pp. 456 f.
56 D’Arbois de Jubainville, p. 12, n. 1, and Dumézil, p. 24, n. 3, suggest the reverse, with ‘rune’ designating the
magical symbols, influencing the Celtic words.
Studia Neophil 71 (1999) The Celts and the Origin of the Runic Script 155

57 V. Kruta, ‘Celtic Writing’, in S. Moscati et al. (eds), The Celts, London 1991, pp. 491–493.
58 Caesar, B.G. 1, 29: ‘tabulae … litteris graecis confectae’; W. Krämer, ‘Graffiti auf Spätlatènekeramik aus
Manching’, Germania 60, 1982, pp. 490–492; P.–M. Duval (ed.), Recueil des inscriptions gauloises, 3 vols,
Paris 1985 ff., I, pp. 418–420, no. G–280; Kruta, p. 493.
59 Seebold has recently proposed a Latino-Faliscan prototype script; one with a hybrid of archaic Greek and
Latin features. His novel but precarious orthographic synthesis relies, however, on a Celtic transmission
occurring as early as the fourth century B.C.; E. Seebold, ‘Die Herkunft der Runenschrift’, in J. O. Askedal, H.
Bjorvand and E. F. Halvorsen (eds), Festskrift til Ottar Grønvik, Oslo 1991, pp. 16–32.
60 Prosdocimi and Solinas, p. 56.
61 The Celtiberian letters have two exact correspondences to runic and ten orthographically similar characters,
which, though they have different phonetic values, parallel forms that are otherwise peculiar to runic such as
those of ı̈ and n. There are even Celtiberian inscriptions from the south of Gaul that include interspersed Greek
letters. Odenstedt’s claim that the runes can only be based on one alphabet clearly does not hold if the
prototype alphabet was one employed by Celtic speakers as even the various forms of Gallo-Latin retained
s
characters from older orthographies to represent characteristically Celtic phones such as [t ]; C. Ebel,
Transalpine Gaul, Leiden 1976, pp. 30, 53–55; Odenstedt, Origin, pp. 155–158; J. F. Eska and D. E. Evans,
‘Continental Celtic’, in M. J. Ball (ed.), The Celtic Languages, London 1993, pp. 28 f.
62 One of the Manching inscriptions reads BOIOS though it is not clear whether it is orthographically Greek,
Latin or North Italic. On the other hand, the adoption of the Lugano script by the invading Gauls has been seen
as evidence of an ethno-cultural recognition by one noted epigraphist (Prosdocimi and Solinas, pp. 53–56).
The other three North Italic Alpine scripts were used by Raetic speaking peoples.
63 Tac., Germ. 3; Krämer, p. 498.
64 Caesar, B.G. 6, 4, 2; PG *walhaz, giving OE wealh ‘Welsh’, OHG walh.