THEME: CREATINGTHEME

A VIKING EMPIRE

The psychology of the Berserkers

Going berserk
His terrifying howl chills the blood of his enemies. Each of his
mighty footsteps echoes the rhythm of their heartbeat. The mist of
his breath resonates like dragon smoke, as he bides his time before
taking the life that belongs to him. His cold, dilated eyes scan the
surroundings, before they settle upon his unfortunate victim. His
axe is raised and, with his sonic howl ringing in the ears of his
adversary, the metal bites through flesh like the jaws of the wolf
whose skin he wears. His enemies flee in all directions with but one
thought on their mind: the Berserker has arrived.

By Owen Rees
The origins of the Berserker are a mys-
tery. They are best known from the
Scandinavian sagas that portray them in a
variety of ways, as shall later be explored.
However, some believe that their roots
lie in earlier Germanic and Celtic social
structures, such as those described by the
Roman historian Tacitus. The reality is that
we do not know, a phrase that is an unfor-
tunate staple of the Berserker historian.
Furthermore, there is much confusion
in the sources as to the identity of the
Berserkers. To one poet they were the
men of the great god Odin, while to oth-
ers they were nothing more than thugs
and outlaws. Some have connected them
with bears, wolves or plain ‘wildness’. Very
few people can agree. Dare it be said, we
don’t even understand the meaning of
the name. Some claim that it comes from
the word ‘bear’, giving a translation of
‘bear-skirt’. Others say that it derives from
‘bare’, giving a translation of ‘bare-shirt’
(i.e. without armour, or naked, depending
on interpretation). Neither one is a perfect
translation. Indeed, neither one entirely
fits the picture given by the sources (for a
full survey of the arguments, see Liberman
2004). But as matters currently stand, no
single meaning of the word has yet been
agreed upon.
Rather than dwelling on what we do
not know, what is there that we do know?
The classic description of a Berserker was
penned by the great saga and history writ-
er of the early thirteenth century, Snorri
Sturluson:
“Men rushed forwards without
armour, were as mad as dogs or
wolves, bit their shields, and were
strong as bears or wild bulls, and
killed people at a blow, but neither
fire nor iron told upon themselves.
These were called Berserker.”
Snorri Sturluson, Ynglinga Saga, 6
There is a common thread running through
all of the available sources: the superhu-
man strength, the animal-like behaviour,
the inability of fire or iron to harm them,
and a propensity to kill. These character
traits recur throughout all the sources,
and thus must be considered the core
definition of a Berserker. The final ingre-
dient would be the act of going berserk
(Berserkergang) which Snorri has described
as a form of madness. But, to compli-
cate matters further, a man could have
the traits of superhuman strength and a
tendency to go berserk without being a
Berserker, and by the same token in many
sagas there were Berserkers in duels who
never went berserk. So, even this is not as
straightforward as it seems.
© Ross Cowan
The psychological state achieved by going
berserk was often stated to be madness. If we
are to believe the common characterisation
of Berserkers biting at their shield, this is,
perhaps, not so surprising. This chess piece is
one of the Lewis Chessmen, now in the British
Museum, London.
Perhaps more can be made of the
descriptions of their appearance. The ear-
liest available source is the Haraldskvaeði,
which was most probably written in the
late ninth century:
“Wolf-skinned they are called. In
battle They bear bloody shields.Red
with blood are their spears when
they come to fight. They form a
closed group. The prince in his
wisdom puts trust in such men
Who hack through enemy shields.”
Haraldskvaeði, 21
The wolfskin is a standard feature, but
unfortunately this complicates mat-
ters once again. For the Berserker was

Medieval Warfare II-1 23

 THEME: CREATING A VIKING EMPIRE
© Public domain
The power of the Berserker was believed by many to be induced by the donning of an animal’s pelt,
most usually that of a wolf or bear.
not unique in this regard. In fact, there
was another type of warrior called the
Ulfhednar (“Wolfskins”). In short, we do
not know whether a person in a wolf-
skin acting like a Berserker was really a
Berserker, or whether he was a Wolfskin,
unless it is explicitly stated.
There is a third type of warrior that
needs some consideration, and that is the
‘shape-shifter’. In Egil’s Saga, written in
the mid-thirteenth century, we are told
of Kveldulf (“Night Wolf”) who was a sus-
pected shape-shifter. He was friends with
a Berserker named Kari, thus confirming
his own non-Berserker status. And yet
we hear of him going berserk in a pas-
sage that perhaps best describes the typi-
cal behaviour of Berserkers, in the Viking
psyche:
“frenzied like a wild animal (...)
he wielded his axe and struck
Hallvard right through his helmet
and head (...) Then he tugged it
back with such force that he swung
Hallvard up into the air and slung
him over the side”
Egil’s Saga, 27
An answer to this question of why men
in the sagas could go berserk, without
the poets calling them Berserkers, may
24 Medieval Warfare II-1
be found in the historical facts, of which
there are unfortunately too few. For the
Berserker was often characterized as a
troublemaker, a dueller and a vagrant,
like Ljot.
“a berserk and a dueller who is
very much loathed (...) Most peo-
ple did not mourn Ljot’s death,
because he had been such a trouble-
maker (...) After challenging many
worthy men to duels, he had killed
them and claimed their farms and
land, and had great wealth in both
property and money”
Egil’s Saga, 65
This image can also be seen in the Gray
Goose Laws, which were a collection of
laws from medieval Iceland. They should
not be thought of as a constitution or
even a central legal system but rather as
the things that the body in power – the
national assembly, if it could be called
that – wished to be enforced. Within these
laws we find a reference to going berserk:
“If a man goes berserk, the penalty is
lesser outlawry. The same penalty applies
to those men who are present except
if they restrain him” (Gray Goose Laws,
Chapter 7).
The unpredictable nature of the
Berserker, combined with his reputation
for wanton violence, turned him into a
cult villain, especially after conversion to
Christianity in Scandinavia. It is in this con-
text that Snorri alluded to them as being
the men of Odin, and more than once
emphasised their heathen ways:
“One of the heathens in particular
fought so bravely, and ventured so
near, that he came quite up to the
castle gate, and pierced the man
who stood outside the gate with
his sword; and although they used
both arrows and stones against
him, and he had neither shield nor
helmet, nothing could touch him,
for he was so skilled in witchcraft
that weapons could not wound
him.”
Snorri Sturluson, Saga of Magnus
the Blind and of Harald Gille, 11
Although not named as a Berserker, he
is described appropriately: superhuman
strength, not fully protected, and noth-
ing could wound him. On the battlefield
he was revered as a great opponent, but
it takes little imagination to think what
problems may have arisen from such
men, to have required the laws outlawing
them.
Berserkergang
As has been previously stated, being a
Berserker and going berserk were two
different things. The act itself, regardless
of the actor, was called Berserkergang. In
fact, descriptions of Berserkergang occur
in the sagas more often than descriptions
of Berserkers.
When Berserkergang occurs, there is
very little information regarding the pro-
cess. This has allowed a very large num-
ber of unsubstantiated theories to fill the
pages of books, ranging from hypothetical
rituals to drugs that may or may not have
been known at the time, or genetic condi-
tions that can’t be substantiated.
In truth, no view has been universally
accepted. The one that I believe makes the
most sense, and the one that I have chosen
to expound here, is the only one that can
explain Berserker behaviour without rely-
 THEME: CREATING A VIKING EMPIRE

© Johnny Shumate

A Berserker was a man to be feared on the battlefield. His superhuman strength combined with
his disregard for personal safety made him a force to be reckoned with. But this psychological
state came at a cost. Unable to conform to social demands they were ostracised by their communi-
ties and became travelling thugs and criminals.

Medieval Warfare II-1 25

 THEME: CREATING A VIKING EMPIRE
ing upon an external factor or interven-
tion, such as the existence of mind-alter-
ing mushrooms or genetic mutations.
The question to ask is: how can a
human enter a state in which the body
appears impervious to wounds, is capable
of greater strength than usual, and has
a complete disregard for its own safety?
A clue lies in the tale of Skallagrim, who
seems to go berserk spontaneously and
accidently during a game with his son and
his son’s friend: “Skallagrim was seized
with such strength that he seized Thord
and dashed him to the ground so fiercely
that he was crushed by the blow and died
on the spot. Then he seized [his son] Egil”
(Egil’s Saga, 40). A servant woman inter-
rupted him, saying he was like a mad
beast attacking his own son, upon which
Skallagrim chased after her and killed her
by throwing a boulder at her. If we are to
believe that Berserkergang like this was
brought on by a pre-battle, pseudo-reli-
gious ritual with an ingestion of halluci-
nogens, then Skallagrim’s episode here
is contradictory. He was playing a game
with two young men for the greater part
of the day, which does not allow for such
an intervention.
The other option is that this is a bio-
logical response to stress, which is wel-
come when it manifests itself in battle, but
can easily become unwelcome in civilian
life. A seasoned veteran, Skallagrim had
learnt to react in a particular way when
encountering heightened levels of stress,
as a biological survival mechanism. During
the ball game, he was tired and excited,
which meant that his stress levels were
high. His brain reacted in the way it had
learned to, throughout years of Viking
campaigns: he went berserk.
This stress reaction is known in battle
as ‘fight or flight’ syndrome. It is a mam-
malian reaction to a perceived imminent
threat without cognitive analysis. Hence,
Skallagrim was unable to rationalise that
it was just a game. During this process,
the body is affected by three major chemi-
cals: adrenaline, cortisol and dopamine.
Dopamine is strongly related to the ‘plea-
sure’ sensation and learning, so the brain
learns to react in a particular way for
future events. Adrenaline allows for more
oxygen to be carried around the body, and
for an increased blood flow into muscles,
helping them to act more efficiently and
effectively – giving people more endur-
ance and strength, and as Berserkers are
26 Medieval Warfare II-1
normally described as being unusually
large, they become even stronger, gaining
superhuman strength. Adrenaline is also
used in surgery to stop bleeding. Cortisol
has many functions, but, most interest-
ingly, it impacts the immune system and
effectively shuts it down. A body without
a working immune system will not heal
itself, which means that joints and wounds
will not inflame and therefore pain will not
be felt in the same way. This goes some
way to explaining the apparently super-
natural reports of women lifting cars off
their children, as an example.
The eventual result of this reaction is
fatigue, because the body has worked at a
much harder and faster rate than normal.
Also, once the stress has been alleviated
and the hormones begin to balance out
once more, the body will begin to heal
itself and the pain will arrive. “It is said that
people who took on the character of ani-
mals, or went berserk, became so strong
in this state that no one was a match for
them, but also that just after it wore off
they were left weaker than usual” (Egil’s
Saga, 27). Kveldulf was left exhausted and
powerless after his frenzy, a state he never
recovered from, and he died shortly after.
This exhaustion has been used by
many to suggest the work of drugs. It was
indeed a popular explanation at the turn
of the twentieth century, as it is similar to
the excessive use of “opium or some excit-
ing drug” (H.S. Williams, The Historians’
History of the World (1904), p. 16). And this
is, of course, a possibility. However, the
body can produce these results and effects
on its own as a perfectly normal response
to stress. There is no doubt that it can have
a greater impact on some people than on
others, and personality traits and genetics
play a strong role. Hence, some people
became Berserkers whilst others were just
able to go berserk. But Berserkergang can
take hold of anyone anywhere, and in a
culture that labelled and idealised it in
many ways, it becomes a more normal
response to survival stress.
Conclusion
The body of work on Berserkers is very
sparse. As this article shows, it is a com-
plicated topic that is either oversimplified
or ignored. This has allowed speculative
theory to become historical fact. Indeed,
the Berserker is most commonly made to
conform to an historian’s larger theories
rather than left on its own to be better
understood. Even now, I have explained it
using my own historical agenda, but until a
greater amount of credible work is done to
help explain the Berserker, Berserkergang,
Ulfhednar, ‘shape-shifting’, and their roles
in Scandinavian society rather than in the
sagas, that is the only way they can be
used.
In the further reading, I have put some
of the major theories I have only briefly
touched on. Fabing (1956) is the main
paper most often referenced with regard
to hallucinogens. Grundy (1998) is an
interesting read covering the ritualistic
possibilities of inducing Berserkergang.
Speidel (2002) gives a comparative analy-
sis of Berserkers using an Indo-European
approach to a cultural phenomenon across
chronology and geography. Liberman
(2004) gives a straightforward and uncom-
promising analysis of the Berserker within
the sagas and the debates surrounding
the etymology of the word. And if, like
me, you are interested in how our ideas of
history have been altered and falsified by
Victorian writers, I strongly advise Wawn
(2000). •
Owen Rees is a researcher of historical
warrior societies. He received his MA
in comparative historical studies,
specialising in both Medieval
European and Japanese socio-military
history. He is a regular contributor to
Medieval Warfare magazine.
Further Reading
- H. Fabing, ‘On Going Berserk: A
Neurochemical Inquiry’, in: The
Scientific Monthly 83:5 (Nov., 1956),
pp. 232-237.
- S. Grundy, ‘Shapeshifting and
Berserkergang’, in: C. Poster & R.
Utz (ed.), Translation, transforma-
tion and transubstantiation in the
late middle ages. Evanston 1998.
- A. Liberman, ‘Berserkir: A Double
Legend’, in: Brathair 4:2 (2004), pp.
97-101.
- M. Speidel, ‘Berserks: A History of
Indo-European ‘Mad Warriors’’, in:
Journal of World History 13:2 (2002),
pp. 253-290.
- A. Wawn, The Vikings and the
Victorians: Inventing the Old North
in 19th Century Britain. Cambridge
2000.