The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
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Transcriber’s Note:
- This book contains a very large number of Norse letters, special characters and some Runes that may not be viewable on every ebook reader.
- There are additional [Transcriber’s notes] at the end of the book.
AN ACCOUNT
OF THE
DANES AND NORWEGIANS
IN
ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND.
AN ACCOUNT
OF THE
DANES AND NORWEGIANS
IN
ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND.
BY J. J. A. WORSAAE, For. F.S.A. London:
A Royal Commissioner for the Preservation of the National Monuments
of Denmark; author of “Primæval Antiquities of Denmark,” &c., &c.
WITH NUMEROUS WOODCUTS.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET.
1852.
LONDON:
GEORGE WOODFALL AND SON,
ANGEL COURT, SKINNER STREET.
PREFACE.
Mr. Worsaae informs us in his Introduction that the following pages were not written solely for the learned. They were designed as a popular contribution to a branch of historical and antiquarian knowledge, which, though highly interesting both to Scandinavians and Englishmen, has been hitherto very imperfectly investigated. The English reader will find in Mr. Worsaae’s work not only many facts concerning the early history of this country that are either entirely new to him, or placed at least in a wholly novel light, but he will also meet with many names whose form may appear foreign and unfamiliar. It may, therefore, be desirable that on the English reader’s introduction to a more intimate acquaintance with that Scandinavian race which has more claims than he had, perhaps, imagined, not only to be regarded as the founders of some of his native customs and institutions, but even to be reckoned among his forefathers, he should be enabled to pronounce their principal names correctly. With this view the following brief remarks are subjoined;—
The double a (aa), frequently occurring in proper names, must be sounded like the English diphthong aw, as in Blaatand, Haarfager.
The ö, or oe, is pronounced like the French diphthong eu.
The u, as in German and Italian, is equivalent to oo in the English words cool, troop, &c.; as in Ulf, Huskarl, &c.
C has invariably the sound of k (with which, indeed, it is frequently interchanged). The names of Cetel, Oscytel, &c., are to be pronounced Ketel, Oskytel. Where c or k precedes another consonant, it retains, as in German, its distinct and proper power. In order to represent this power, Latin and English writers have sometimes substituted the syllable ca for the initial c or k; as, for instance, in the name of Canute (Dan., Cnut or Knud). This has led to the very common error of pronouncing the name as if it consisted of two syllables, with an accent upon the first; as Cán-ute, instead of Cănúte.
J has the sound of the English y; as in Jarl (Yarl, earl), Jorvik (Yor-vik, York).
The consonants th (the Icelandic Þ[[1]]) are pronounced like a single t. The word Thing (assizes, &c.), which the reader will so frequently meet, is sounded like Ting. The proper pronunciation is preserved in the word Hus-ting, but by altering the spelling. Thus, Thor, Thorkil, &c., must be pronounced Tor, Torkil.
[1]. The letter ð has the power of dh, or dth.
Lastly, the Vikings (Isl., Vikingr, a sea-rover, pirate), who played so great a part during the Danish conquests, were not Ví-kings, but Vik-ings (Veék-ings); so called either from the Icelandic Vik (Dan., Vig), a bay of the sea, or from Vig, battle, slaughter.
London, Dec. 15th, 1851.
AUTHOR’S PREFACE.
In the spring of 1846, his late Majesty Christian VIII. of Denmark determined that an inquiry should be made respecting the monuments and memorials of the Danes and Norwegians which might be still extant in Scotland and the British Islands. His Majesty was the more confirmed in this design as two distinguished British noblemen, his Grace the Duke of Sutherland, and his brother Lord Francis Egerton (now Earl of Ellesmere), had repeatedly stated in their letters to the Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries that, if a Danish archæologist visited Scotland, he should receive all possible assistance, especially in Sutherland, a district so rich in Scandinavian antiquities.
His Majesty did me the honour to intrust this task to me: and the President of the Royal Society of Northern Antiquaries, and of the Royal Committee for the preservation of the national monuments—our present most gracious sovereign Frederick VII.—having, with a lively zeal for the promotion of the inquiry, furnished me with several letters of introduction, I travelled during a twelvemonth (1846-1847) in Scotland, Ireland, and England; where, partly through the personal kindness of the Duke of Sutherland and of the Earl of Ellesmere, and partly by means of their influential names, I invariably met with the best reception and the most valuable assistance in my researches.
The present work contains part of the results of that journey. My aim in it has been to convey a juster and less prejudiced notion than prevails at present respecting the Danish and Norwegian conquests; which, though of such special importance to England, Scotland, and Ireland, have hitherto been constantly viewed in an utterly false and partial light. Whilst writing the work in Denmark, I have but too frequently felt the want of constant access to the well-stored libraries of England; although those literary gentlemen in Great Britain to whom I have written for information, have received my applications with their usual readiness and friendship[[2]].
[2]. Amongst the many gentlemen to whom I owe my thanks, I must particularly name: Sir H. Dryden, Bart., of Canons Ashby; C. Roach Smith, Esq., F.S.A., London; E. Hawkins, Esq., British Museum; J. M. Kemble, Esq.; Professor Cosmo Innes, Edinburgh; Dr. Traill, ibid.; C. Neaves, Esq., ibid.; R. Chalmers, Esq., of Auldbar Castle; Rev. J. H. Todd, D.D., Trinity College, Dublin; Professor C. Graves; and Dr. G. Petrie, likewise of Dublin.
However, as my work contains the first fully detailed examination of the subject from the Danish side, I hope that, notwithstanding all its deficiencies and faults, it may prove of some interest in England, and serve to excite further investigation, which would doubtless throw a clearer light upon a very remote, but not on that account less remarkable, period in the history of England and the North.
J. J. A. WORSAAE.
Copenhagen, April, 1851.
CONTENTS.
Scandinavia’s greatest Memorials.—Those of Denmark and Norway at Sea.—Of Sweden on Land.—The Influence of Climate
The Great Memorials of Sweden in their Relation to those of Denmark and Norway.—Danish-Norwegian Memorials in the British Isles
Nature of the Country.—Earlier Inhabitants: Britons, Romans, and Anglo-Saxons
The Danish Expeditions.—The Danish Conquest
The Thames.—London
Watlinga-Stræt.—South England.—Legends about the Danes.—The Graves of Canute the Great and Hardicanute
The Wash.—The Five Burghs.—The Humber.—York.—Northumberland.—Stamford Bridge
Danish-Norwegian Memorials in the North of England.—Coins.—The Raven.—The Danish Flag
Danish-Norwegian Names of Places
Resemblance of the People to the Danes and Norwegians.—Proper Names.—Popular Language.—Songs and Legends
The Outrages of the Danes.—The Danes and Normans.—Influence of the Danes in England
Commerce and Navigation
Art and Literature
Ecclesiastical and Secular Aristocracy
The Danelag.—Holmgang, or Duel.—Jury.—The Feeling of Freedom
General View.—Anglo-Saxon and Danish-Norman England.—Sympathies for Denmark.—The Dane in England
Nature of Scotland.—The Highlands and Lowlands.—Population.—Original Inhabitants
The Anglo-Saxons.—The Danes and Norwegians.—Effects of their Expeditions
The Lowlands.—Population.—Language.—Norwegian-Danish Names of Places
Traditions concerning “the Danes.”—The Southern and Northern Lowlands.—Danish Memorials.—Burghead
The Orkneys and Shetland Isles.—Natural Features.—Population.—Oppression
Shetland.—The People.—Songs.—Sword-Dance.—Language.—Names of Places.—Tingwall.—Burg of Mousa.—Tumuli.—Bauta Stones
The Orkneys.—“Þingavöllr.”—Monuments of the Olden Time.—Kirkwall.—St. Magnus Church
Pentland Firth.—The Highlands.—Caithness.—Sutherland.—Dingwall.—Fear of the Danes
The Hebrides.—The Northern Isles.—Lewis and Harris (Næs).—Skye.—Ossian’s Songs.—Iona
The Sudreyjar, or Southern Isles.—Cantire.—Islay.—Man.—Names of Places.—Runic Stones.—Kings.—Battle of Largs.—“Lords of the Isles.”—Tynwald in Man
Nature and Population of Ireland.—The “Danish” Conquests.—Traditions about the “Danes.”—Political Movements
Irish and Scandinavian Records.—Finn Lochlannoch.—Dubh-Lochlannoch.—The Names of the Provinces
Norwegian Kings.—Limerick.—Cork.—Waterford.—Reginald’s Tower.—Dublin.—Thengmotha.—Oxmantown
Norwegian Names of Places.—Near Dublin.—Norwegian Burial—Places.—Norwegian Weapons and Ornaments
Ancient Irish Christianity and Civilization.—Trade.—No Irish, but Norwegian Coins.—Sigtryg Silkeskjæg.—Norwegian Coiners
The Battle of Clontarf.—Power of the Ostmen after the Battle.—Their Churches and Bishops.—Their Land and Sea Forces.—The English Conquest.—Remains of the Ostmen.—Their Importance for Ireland
Conclusion.—Warlike and Peaceful Colonizations Resemblances and Differences.—Before and Now
[Appendix I. Document of Edward I.]
[Appendix II. Coinage of the Norwegians in Dublin]
INTRODUCTION.
Section I.
Scandinavia’s greatest Memorials.—Those of Denmark and Norway at Sea.—Of Sweden on Land.—The Influence of Climate.
The greatest, and for general history the most important, memorials of the Scandinavian people are connected, as is well known, with the expeditions of the Normans, and with the Thirty Years’ War.
In the Norman expeditions the North, mighty in its heathenism, poured forth towards the east, the west, and the south, its numerous warriors and shrewd men, who subverted old kingdoms, and founded new and powerful ones in their place. It was by Danish and Norwegian fleets that Normandy and England were then conquered, and kingdoms won in Scotland, Ireland, and North Holland; whilst Norwegians settled on the Faroe Islands (Dan., Faröerne), and discovered and colonized Iceland. Hence their descendants, having afterwards passed over to Greenland, discovered America, and were in the habit of navigating the Atlantic Ocean centuries before other European nations.
In all these voyages proportionally few Swedes took part. Inscriptions on runic stones in Sweden sometimes speak, indeed, of men who had settled or met their death in the west over in England (Anklant or Inklant). But on the whole the views of the Swedes were at that time, as well as at a later period, mostly directed towards the east. Swedish Vikings, or pirates, harried and established themselves upon the coasts of Finland and of the countries now belonging to Russia; and a tribe of them, the Varæger, even made themselves there the reigning people. Partly in consequence of this, Sweden—and particularly the Island of Gothland, or Gulland—became the centre of the active trade which in ancient times (that is, from the eighth to the twelfth century,) was carried on, through Russia, between Scandinavia and the countries around the Black and Caspian Seas, as well as Arabia.
The Swedes, however, do not appear very prominently either in ancient times or in the early part of the middle ages. They were prevented from playing any considerable part in the distant lands towards the West by the sanguinary intestine disputes which took place between them and the Goths; and it was not till the fifteenth century, and after these disputes were adjusted, that they could appear upon the theatre of the world as a nation. The Swedish Charleses and Gustavuses, by means of the sword, subsequently caused the Swedish name to be feared and honoured; not, however, at sea, but on land, on the plains of Russia, Poland, and Germany. Gustavus Adolphus, in the Thirty Years’ War, after the disaster of the Danish-Norwegian king Christian IV., powerfully contributed to uphold Lutheranism, and by that means to establish liberty of conscience for Germany and the rest of Europe.
It was, then, principally at sea that the Danes and Norwegians formerly won a name in the history of the world, whilst the Swedes obtained theirs on land. Indeed, the peculiar nature and situation of the different Scandinavian countries must have necessarily caused the strength and courage which were the common attributes of the Scandinavian race, to be exerted from the first in different directions. Sweden, which towards the west is separated from Denmark only by the Sound and Cattegat, is in like manner towards the east separated from the vast plains of northern Europe by a confined and narrow sea. When, therefore, the thirst of glory and conquest urged the Swedish warriors from their homes, it was only necessary for them to cross over to the opposite shores, or at most to sail along the coasts of the Baltic. In Sweden, forests, valleys, and rivers, are the most prominent natural features, whilst the sea is but a subordinate one. It is scarcely to be expected that such a country should produce good seamen. But in Denmark and Norway the case is altogether different.
Denmark is surrounded on all sides by the sea, which has indented the land with numberless bays and firths, and cut it up into small portions. Nor is it washed only by a confined sea like the Baltic, but also by the more open German Ocean. From the earliest times, therefore, necessity obliged the Dane to put to sea in order to keep up his connections with his friends on the surrounding coasts and islands. Subsequently—when commerce, and more especially when military honour, required it—he was compelled to learn how to navigate the open sea, to struggle with the foaming waves and rapid currents, and to defy the surf—which is still the constant terror of seamen—on the coasts of north and west Jutland.
Thus the Dane early became a bold and daring Viking, and the Norwegian distinguished himself in the same manner. Norway turns her broad and rocky bosom towards the ocean. Her wild and broken coasts, split into deep fiords, or gulfs, bear witness to the never-ceasing and violent attacks of the Atlantic. Towards the east, Norway is separated from Sweden by rocks, forests, and large desert plains. The interior of the country is partly filled with mountains and immense forests, which anciently were still more extensive. The valleys alone, along the banks of rivers, are productive, and capable of cultivation. The greater part of the inhabitants settled therefore originally on the fiords, or in the neighbourhood of the sea, where the pasture land was neither so over grown with wood, nor so sequestered as in the interior, and where also the sea air rendered the climate considerably milder. The weather, however, was variable enough, and the products of the earth being, partly on that account, but scanty, fishing and the chase became important sources of maintenance for the continually-increasing population. The forests supplied them with abundance of timber, the soil was rich in iron; nor were the people wanting in a daring and enterprising spirit. Ships were soon built, capable not only of navigating the fiords, but of venturing beyond their mouths. The first voyages were coasting ones, but subsequently they were extended from the southern part of Norway to the Danish and Swedish shores.
The Norwegian, who had now become skilled in navigating his ship through the mountain waves of the Atlantic and the far more dangerous surfs on the rocks of Norway, no longer dreaded the open sea. When the population had increased to such an extent that the Norwegian rocks could barely afford it a sufficient maintenance; when the reports concerning the rich lands beyond the sea, and their defenceless condition, promised at once renown and booty; and when, lastly, Harald Haarfager’s conquests threatened the Norwegians with the loss of their freedom—then thousands of vessels shot out from the fiords of Norway, and steered dauntlessly for the neighbouring western islands. A northern life, and the severe winter’s cold, had not only braced the body of the Viking to endure all kinds of hardships, and given him strength to wield the sword with effect; it had also steeled his courage, and taught him fearlessly to face all manner of danger. The clear starry firmament of the North enabled him to observe the course and relative situation of the stars, which were then the only compass by which he steered his ship towards foreign and unknown shores.
Norway must naturally be better calculated to form hardy persevering sailors than Denmark. With the exception of the west coast of Jutland, where there is not a good harbour to be found, and where, consequently, navigation must, in ancient times, have been very limited, Denmark is washed by an enclosed sea with flat coasts. The ocean, on the contrary, washes almost the whole of Norway’s rocky shores; where the numerous and deeply-indented fiords resemble so many harbours. There are sufficient indications that anciently the Danes were accustomed to visit only the comparatively neighbouring countries of England, Holland, and France; whilst the Norwegians sailed also towards the north on the wide Atlantic, whose storms and dangers did not prevent them from constantly visiting the Faroe Islands, Iceland, Greenland, and even America. The discovery and first colonization of these countries are, with just reason, the pride of the Norwegians and of their descendants the Icelanders.
A comparison with other European nations will more clearly show how great an influence the climate of the North, and especially the Northern Sea, must have had on the development of navigation among the Danes and Norwegians, and on their whole maritime life. With the exception of England, which, in a still higher degree than Scandinavia, swims in the open sea, and of Holland, which lies as it were half under water, no country in Europe has produced a seafaring people which can be at all compared to the Northmen; and this notwithstanding that Germany, France, and the Spanish Peninsula, have all a very considerable extent of coast. The reason undoubtedly is, that the coasts of those countries are washed by enclosed seas, which naturally cannot be compared with the ocean; whilst the countries themselves, especially Germany and France—and the latter even in spite of its extent of coast towards the Atlantic—have an unmistakeable continental character. It is clear, moreover, that the ocean, as well as the smaller and enclosed seas, have, according to the difference of latitude, an entirely different influence on the people who inhabit their shores. The Mediterranean, surrounded by rich and fruitful, but enervating, countries, has not shown itself capable of producing such seamen as the Baltic, where the climate is more severe, and the gifts of Nature incomparably more sparing. Spain and Portugal, it is true, have a great extent of coast towards the Atlantic, which may almost be compared with the west coast of Norway. But both those countries possess a fruitful soil and a glorious southern climate. Their inhabitants were not, like the Northmen of old, forced to visit foreign shores in order to procure subsistence, and to struggle continually with a raw and severe climate. They preferred to stay at home and enjoy the blessings of their own country; and thus the calm energy and the proud self-reliance which are engendered by a ceaseless struggle with an ungrateful soil and climate, and which are indispensable to a hardy seaman, were not developed in them as in the Norwegians and other inhabitants of the North. This may have been one of the causes why the Spaniards and Portuguese were unable to retain, in later times, their mastery over the new world. They were displaced by the English, a northern seafaring people, who were more at home on the sea.
It was the same quiet energy which, even amid the excitement of passion, so strongly distinguished the northern from the southern races. The inhabitant of the South was more governed, as he now is, by his passions. A torrent of words, an animated play of the features, or even perhaps a violent assault, betrayed the fire that raged within him. The northern man, on the contrary, was of few words. His anger was under the dominion of his cooler reason, and he was capable of concealing the emotions of his soul. But he had a good memory. Years would pass before he revenged himself; and he felt a sort of pleasure in making his preparations, and waiting for the proper opportunity. The revenge of blood, therefore, took place in the cold North, as well as in the fiery South: but in the totally different manner in which it manifested itself we can hardly fail to recognise the influence of Nature.
It must, however, be borne in mind that in every nation, except those situated at the Poles or under the Line, where Nature exerts an almost irresistible and overwhelming force, this influence manifests itself very differently, according to their different degrees of development. In the infancy of a people, and so long as their immediate wants render them entirely dependent on Nature, whose unexplained phenomena appear to them as those of some foreign and unknown power, her influence on their life is naturally strongest. The effect is the same as that which education and the companions with whom he associates produce on an individual. But as nations gradually become more enlightened and refined, they obtain a mastery over Nature, whose influence thus grows weaker and weaker, and at last almost vanishes. It is, indeed, one of the most marked steps in the progress of human development, when man becomes Nature’s master, and makes her obedient to his power. Thus when Englishmen, Frenchmen, and others who belong to a people of defined character and perfectly-developed nationality, settle in foreign parts, the influence of Nature, even at the Poles, or under the Line, is scarcely strong enough to produce any great change in their character. And upon the whole, to whatever degree civilization may be carried, most nations will never entirely lose that character which Nature has impressed upon them in the lands which gave them birth.
The influence of Nature upon the Scandinavian people may be traced throughout their history, even down to the present times. In their sanguinary internal wars, the Danes and Norwegians generally gained the victory over the Swedes at sea. Under able leaders they have sometimes been victorious on land also; but here the Swedes have in general been superior. Christian IV. made no progress in the Thirty Years’ War. On that occasion he proved himself inferior to Gustavus Adolphus, who, when fighting on land, was in his true element. At sea, on the other hand, Christian IV. signally defeated the Swedish fleet. The chief heroes of the Swedish nation, and those who live most in the memory of the people, are, Gustavus Adolphus, Charles X., and particularly Charles XII.; although that monarch, by his rash wars in Russia, Poland, and Germany, inflicted deep wounds upon Sweden, which took a long time to heal. But the favourite heroes of the Danes and Norwegians are seamen; as Christian IV., Niels Juel, Hvitfeld, and especially Tordenskjold, who, singularly enough, was contemporary with Charles XII. The difference between the people is clearly expressed in the opening lines of two of the most favourite national songs. The Danish—formerly the Norwegian also—runs thus:
“Kong Christian stod ved höien Mast
I Rög og Damp,”
(“King Christian stood by the high mast, enveloped in mist and smoke”), where there is an allusion to a fight at sea. But the Swedish lines,
“Kung Karl den unge hjelte
Han stod i rök och dam,”
(“King Charles the young hero, stood in smoke and dust”), allude to battle and victory on land. Even to the present day it may with good reason be asserted that the Danes and Norwegians feel more inclination than the Swedes for a seafaring life. But as the battle in Copenhagen Roads (April 2, 1801) maintained the ancient reputation of the Danes at sea, so also recent events have shown, that both the Danes and Norwegians of the present day can fight on land with distinguished bravery.
Section II.
The Great Memorials of Sweden in their Relation to those of Denmark
and Norway.—Danish-Norwegian Memorials in the British Isles.
Russia, Poland, and particularly Germany, were, as we have seen, the theatre of the greatest victories of Sweden. The glory of Denmark and Norway, on the contrary, was founded in the West, over the sea, in America, Iceland, the British Isles, and France. Denmark’s conquests of the southern and eastern coasts of the Baltic in the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, under the Waldemars, terminate, however, the times of the Vikings. The victories of Sweden are of a modern date, and since the last two centuries; but those of Denmark are of the ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth centuries. The remembrance of the Swedish sabre-cut yet remains fresh among the Russians, Poles, and Germans; nay, in some places, the Swedish name is still a terror to the common people.
It is often made a subject of complaint against the great achievements of Denmark and Norway that they are of such remote antiquity; and that, instead of promoting the freedom and spiritual advancement of mankind, like Sweden’s struggles in the Thirty Years’ War, they rather caused an immense retrograde step in civilization, since the heathen Vikings acted with unbridled ferocity, burnt and destroyed churches and convents, and rudely trampled upon everything that bore the mark of a higher intellectual development. Thus foreigners, and particularly the German historians, usually assert, for instance, that the Danish and Norwegian Vikings brought nothing but misfortune upon the British Isles; whilst, on the contrary, everything great and good in England is mainly attributable to the Saxons, or Germans. This, however, is not to be wondered at, since these critics were obliged to judge of situations for whose right estimation they were entirely without the necessary knowledge, namely, that of the more ancient history of the North.
It would certainly not be gratifying to the national feelings of the Danes and Norwegians if the progress and settlements of the Vikings in foreign lands were marked only by acts of violence, murder, and incendiarism. Nor would it be a whit more pleasing or refreshing if it were necessary to dig up as it were out of the earth the memorials of those deeds, after they had lain for centuries in oblivion, or if we were obliged carefully to revive them and procure their acknowledgment in the countries which were once compelled to bow before the power of the northern warriors.
But what if the Danish name, and the remembrance of the exploits of the Danes and Norwegians, in spite of the many centuries that have passed since they were performed, still live as fresh in the memory of the people of the western lands as the Swedish name in Germany, nay, perhaps even fresher? What if we found that, by means of monuments, the popular character, public institutions, and other traits, a constant powerful and beneficial influence could be traced from the expeditions of the Vikings or Northmen, so that the natives of the lands which they subdued accounted it an honour to descend from the bold natives of the North? Would not the Northman in that case have a double right to be proud of his forefathers? Or would he, upon the whole, any longer have reason to complain?
It is the object of the following pages to convey, partly in the form of travelling impressions, a picture of the memorials of the Danes and Norwegians, as they exist in the monuments and among the people of those countries which in former times most frequently witnessed the victories of the Danes and Normans—namely, the British Islands. It is, however, by no means the exclusive, or even special, design of them, to present to scholars and persons of science detailed and critical observations on every individual ancient monument in those islands, which may be said to be of Danish or Norwegian origin. Their aim rather is to describe the more general, and consequently more appreciable, features of actually existing Scandinavian monuments; in doing which a distinction will, as far as possible, be drawn between the Danish and the Norwegian memorials; and in general between the influence of the Danes in England, and of the Norwegians in Scotland and Ireland.
THE
DANES IN ENGLAND.
Section I.
Nature of the Country.—Earlier Inhabitants: Britons, Romans, and
Anglo-Saxons.
The greater part of England consists of flat and fertile lowland, particularly towards the southern and eastern coasts, where large open plains extend themselves. Smiling landscapes, with well-cultivated fields, beautiful ranges of forest, and small clear lakes everywhere meet the eye. One would often be led to fancy oneself in some Danish province, if the splendid country seats, with their extensive parks, the numerous towns, the smoking factories, and the locomotive engines, with their trains darting continually to and fro, did not remind one of being in that land, which, with regard to riches and commerce, stands first in Europe. The plains are watered by noble and smooth-flowing rivers, which receive in their protecting embraces the thousands of ships which from all quarters seek the coasts of England. The winter is considerably milder than in our northern regions; and the sea air, not permitting the snow to lie for any length of time, renders the climate, on the whole, warmer. In summer the fields are clothed with the most luxuriant verdure. The leafy woods, with their numerous oaks, are filled with singing birds. The charm that is extended over English scenery, united with that freshness of life that stirs itself on all sides, cannot fail to make a deep impression on every foreigner. One feels in its full extent that the nature of the country presents all the requisites for greatness to a powerful and undegenerate people; and one no longer requires an explanation why it was not till after a desperate struggle that the ancient Britons relinquished it, or why, in after times, various nations strove with their utmost efforts for the possession of such a land.
The farther one travels towards the north or west of England, the mountains become higher, the valleys narrower, and the streams more rapid. In the north, however, the mountains rather resemble high hills. They do not tower in broken masses like the granite cliffs of Scandinavia. Their forms are softer and more undulating, and they are, too, clothed with a rich vegetation, and frequently overgrown with wood. In Cumberland and Westmorland are inwreathed those charming lakes whose beauties constantly attract a number of tourists. Even the ridge of the Cheviot Hills is not much more than about two thousand feet above the level of the sea: but stretching from east-north-east to west-south-west, with the river Tweed on one side, and the Solway firth on the other, they form a natural boundary between England and Scotland.
Farthest towards the west rise the mountains of Wales, England’s real highland. The valleys here are short and narrow, yet the country has not the wildness of mountain tracts. Although it contains England’s highest mountain, Snowdon, whose summit is nearly three thousand five hundred feet above the sea, still it unites the charms of plain and mountain. The whole of Wales may be regarded as a knot of mountains opposed by nature to the enormous waves of the Atlantic Ocean and Irish Sea. The middle is the highest part, whence rivers flow towards the east and west; the latter of which, after a short and foaming course, discharge themselves into the sea. The extent of the country, both in length and breadth, is, on the whole, inconsiderable.
This little mountain tract, which, in comparison with England, is poor as regards fertility, but all the richer in natural beauties, contains the last remains of the former masters of England, the Celtic Britons. By its remote situation, its rocks and narrow mountain passes, the characteristics of its former inhabitants have been preserved to our times. The people speak the ancient Welsh language, a branch of the Celtic stock; and have also inherited no small share of that burning hatred which their forefathers nourished against the English, who gained possession of their original fatherland by force.
Wales was united to England as early as the close of the thirteenth century; yet for ages later the Britons knew how to keep their country almost closed against the intrusion of strangers; whilst the harpers, by their ancient songs, kept alive the remembrance of past exploits and past disasters, and thus, as it were, still more hedged in and protected the language and nationality of the people. It was not till later times, when high roads, and at present railroads, began to open a more frequent intercourse between Wales and England, that the tones of the harp became almost entirely mute. The Welsh language gave way more and more to the English, and the time can hardly be far distant when the Celtic will become entirely extinct in Wales, as it has long been in Cornwall.
The people, whose scanty remnant thus spend the last days of their old age among the Welsh mountains, formerly belonged, both by possessions and kinship, to the most powerful in Europe. Not only were the Scotch and the Irish of the same origin with them, but on the other side of the channel, throughout Gaul, or France, Spain, and the middle and south of Europe, dwelt tribes of the Celtic race. Until about the time of the birth of Christ there was no people north of the Alps, which, with regard to power, agriculture, commerce, skill in the arts, and civilization in general, could equal, much less surpass, the Celts. Yet they were not strong enough to clip the wings of the Roman eagle, when it began to extend them over the Alps. The superior military skill and higher civilization of the Romans, triumphed over the various Celtic tribes, which were torn by internal dissensions, and could not once, even under the danger which menaced them, faithfully unite together. Shortly after the birth of Christ, therefore, the Roman hosts had already gained a footing in Britain, and, notwithstanding the violent and repeated attacks of the natives, soon made themselves masters of the country. They even fought their way to Scotland; where, however, the wild highlands, and their brave inhabitants, the Caledonians, arrested their victorious march. The Romans were now obliged to erect walls, ramparts, and towers, in order to prevent the highland Scots from uniting with the Britons, and to avert the speedy loss of the land which they had already won. Throughout Britain they laid the foundations of a civilization till then unknown there. They promoted agriculture, commerce, and trade; they made roads, and built towns and castles; and, as they had not immigrated in any great multitudes, they left the inhabitants in tolerably quiet possession of the soil of their forefathers.
But the Roman power fell in turn. It was natural that their dominion in so distant and sequestered a land as Britain should decay sooner and more easily than elsewhere, especially as the British chiefs did not fail immediately to revive the old disputes. Their rude neighbours in Scotland, the Picts and Scots, no longer restrained by fear of the Romans, made serious and devastating inroads upon the northern provinces of England, where no slight degree of riches and splendour already prevailed. The Britons, moreover, under the dominion of the Romans, had, like their kinsmen across the channel, already begun to grow cowardly and effeminate. Long oppression had given the power of the Celts a death-blow: and they were consequently unable to withstand the powerful and undegenerate tribes of Germany, which now, in the great tide of emigration from the east and north of Europe, rushed into the old Celtic countries, and made themselves new abodes, either, for the most part, putting the ancient inhabitants to death, or reducing them to a state of thraldom.
In the fifth century Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, from North Germany and the peninsula of Jutland, invaded Britain. The unfortunate Britons, when they would not submit to their conquerors, were persecuted with fire and sword, and were at last driven to the remote mountain districts in the West of England, particularly Cumberland (the land of the Cymbri or Celts), Wales, and Cornwall. After a sanguinary war, which lasted more than a hundred and fifty years, all their fine fruitful plains fell into the hands of their foreign conquerors, who continually brought more and more of their countrymen over, to build up again and inhabit the burnt or destroyed towns and houses, and to cultivate the neglected fields. The Angles settled principally in the north of England, the Saxons in the south and south-west, and mingled amongst both dwelt the Jutes, who do not appear to have been numerous enough to occupy large districts of their own. Under the common name of “Anglo-Saxons,” the descendants of these nations continued for several centuries to be the reigning people, although the Britons did not cease to make harassing invasions on the frontiers of their hereditary enemies. For the rest, the Saxons successfully continued what the Romans had begun, with regard to the improvement of the land, and the promotion of civilization among the people. They were, it is true, divided into several tribes and smaller kingdoms, which not unfrequently warred against each other. But Christianity soon began to extend itself, and about the time of its introduction the separate kingdoms were united into one. Churches and convents rose with surprising rapidity throughout the country, and the pursuits of peace, science, and art, throve luxuriantly. Every plant, though foreign, flourished vigorously in the English soil.
In the first ages, however, Christianity produced among the people, as was the case in other countries besides England, a sort of degeneracy and weakness. Instead of the din of battle of the heathens there were now heard songs and prayers, which, joined with the constantly-increasing refinement, made the people dull and effeminate, so that they willingly bent under the yoke of their masters, both spiritual and temporal. In the ninth, tenth, and eleventh centuries the Anglo-Saxons had greatly degenerated from their forefathers. Relatives sold one another into thraldom; lewdness and ungodliness were become habitual; and cowardice had increased to such a degree, that, according to the old chroniclers, one Dane would often put ten Anglo-Saxons to flight. Before such a people could be conducted to true freedom and greatness it was necessary that an entirely new vigour should be infused into the decayed stock.
This vigour was derived from the Scandinavian north, where neither Romans nor any other conquerors had domineered over the people, and where heathenism with all its roughness, and all its love of freedom and bravery, still held absolute sway.
Section II.
The Danish Expeditions.—The Danish Conquest.
A fate similar to that which the Anglo-Saxons had formerly brought upon the Britons, now partly became the lot of the Anglo-Saxons themselves. The same sea, the North Sea, or, as the old inhabitants of Scandinavia called it, “England’s Sea,” which in the fifth century had borne the Anglo-Saxons to England, and which had afterwards served to maintain the peaceful connections of trade, and the intercourse between kinsmen in England and in their northern fatherland, now suddenly teemed with the numberless barks of the Vikings, which, from the close of the eighth century, constantly showed themselves in all the harbours and rivers of England. For about three centuries the Danes were the terror of the Anglo-Saxons. They generally anchored their ships at the mouths of rivers, or lay under the islands on the coasts. Thence they would sail up the rivers to the interior of the country, where they frequently mounted on horseback, and conveyed themselves with incredible speed from one place to another. Their frightful sabre-cuts resounded everywhere. Their progress was marked by the burning of churches and convents, castles, and towns; and great multitudes of people were either killed or dragged away into slavery. In a short time they began to take up their abode in the country for the winter, and in the spring they renewed their destructive incursions. The terrified inhabitants imagined they beheld a judgment of God in the devastations of the Vikings, which had been foretold in ancient prophecies.
Not even the remote and poorer districts of Wales were spared. It is true that it was extremely difficult for the Danes to force an entrance on the land side, and, in order to do so by sea, it was necessary to make a troublesome and dangerous voyage round the long-extended peninsula formed by the modern Cornwall and Devonshire. In general its rivers were not large or navigable, and the number of good harbours was but small. Nevertheless, the Northmen seem to have known Wales well, as the old land of the Britons; since it was always called “Bretland,” to distinguish it from England. Palnatoke, the celebrated chief of the Jomsvikings, is said to have married there, during one of his warlike expeditions, Olöf, a daughter of the Bretland jarl, Stefner, whose Jarledömme (earldom) Palnatoke afterwards possessed. The Sagas often make mention of Björn hin Bretske (Bear the Briton) as being among his men; and it is said that when he assisted at the funeral solemnities which his foster son, King Svend Tveskjæg[[3]], held in honour of his father, King Harald Blaatand[[4]], the half of his suite were Britons. Svend himself had ravaged Bretland; and it was there, as is well known, that the Icelander, Thorvald Kodransön, surnamed Vidförle (the far-travelled), delivered him by his noble disinterestedness from a perilous imprisonment.
[3]. Split-beard.
[4]. Blue-tooth.
The expeditions of the Danes to Bretland seem, however, to have been confined to the tracts bordering on the north bank of the Severn, and to the Isle of Anglesey; which latter was not unfrequently visited by the Norwegians in their piratical voyages to the Hebrides and Ireland. At least the Sagas mention it as “the southernmost region, of which former Norwegian kings had made themselves masters;” and it was probably here that Palnatoke had his kingdom. The very name of the island recalls a close connection with the inhabitants of the north. Anciently it was called “Maenige;” but the Danes and Norwegians, with regard, clearly, to its situation by the land of the Angles (England), gave it the name of “Öngulsey,” or Angelsöen, whence the present form Anglesey may, doubtless, be said to have been derived.
The connections of the Danish Vikings with Bretland were, however, far from being always unfriendly. For as the Britons in Wales and Cornwall constantly nourished a lively hatred against the Anglo-Saxons, on whose lands they continued to make war, the Danes often entered into an alliance with them against their common enemies. The Danish and British armies were either combined, or else the Britons attacked from the west and south, whilst the Danes invaded the eastern coasts. These deep and well-laid plans show that the views of the Danes were no longer confined to robbery and plunder, with a view to gain booty, or to overthrow the churches and convents which threatened their ancient gods with destruction, but that they now seriously thought of conquering for themselves new tracts of country; nay, if possible, of subjugating or expelling the Anglo-Saxons throughout England.
Already in the ninth century the Anglo-Saxons had receded considerably before the Danes, who had obtained possessions on the east coast, where they quickly spread themselves, and where fresh arriving Vikings always found reception and assistance. The Anglo-Saxon king, Alfred the Great, was driven from his throne, and wandered about a long time in the forests, whilst the Danes held the sovereignty in his dominions. He succeeded, indeed, at length in regaining the crown; but in the mean time the possessions of the Danes on the east coast had been extended, and their power continually increased by the arrival of fresh emigrants, who settled in different parts of the country, and married the native women. Alfred, it is true, built fleets for the protection of the coasts; but the militia-men instituted in his time, in order to repel the frequent attacks of the Danes, now went over to them, accounting them their kinsmen. In Northumberland especially, the Danes, and a considerable number of Norwegians, had settled themselves securely under their own chiefs. Here they had sought a refuge against the new order of things which was now about to make itself felt in the mother countries, Denmark and Norway.
Partly as a result of the expeditions of the Vikings, and the frequent contact into which they were thus brought with Christian States, Christianity began, towards A.D. 900, to spread itself in the countries of Scandinavia. About the same time occurred there, as in the rest of Europe, a union of many small kingdoms under a single sovereign: and the Scandinavian tribes were subjected to the kings of Denmark, Norway, and Sweden. Some powerful and malcontent ones had indeed migrated beyond the sea; but, nevertheless, there were materials enough left for dissension in the new kingdoms, before Christianity could be generally introduced, and the power of the kings firmly established. A time arrived when the internal struggles in Denmark and Norway scarcely allowed the inhabitants to send any availing support to their friends in Northumberland, or to the other Danes on the coasts of England. Towards the middle of the tenth century, therefore, the hitherto almost independent Danish provinces in England were compelled to submit to the Anglo-Saxon kings, whose sovereignty, however, was but of short duration; for after the year 980 Danish and Norwegian Vikings again swarmed throughout England. Nor was it now, as formerly, merely the petty kings, who, with a comparatively inferior force, conducted these warlike expeditions. By degrees the Danish and Norwegian kings’ sons, and even the kings themselves, endeavoured, with large fleets and well-appointed armies, to wrest the sceptre from the hands of the feeble Anglo-Saxon monarchs. It was in vain that the latter strove against them. They laid a tax on the whole land, called Danegelt, in order to defray the great expenses which the defence of the country against the Danes occasioned. But the money thus raised it was often necessary to expend in buying off the Danes, or in supporting their victorious hosts whilst they wintered in the country. The Anglo-Saxon king, Ethelred, after seeing his kingdom harried and fearfully devastated by the Danish king, Svend Tveskjæg, in conjunction with Olaf Trygvesön, the son of the king of Norway, first succeeded in making peace with Olaf in 995, and with Svend in 1002, after paying immense sums as Danegelt, and agreeing to many humiliating conditions.
As a last resource against the daily-increasing number and power of the Danes, Ethelred determined secretly and cruelly to murder these who were settled in England. The massacre took place on St. Bridget’s eve, the 13th of November, 1002. Old and young, women and children, were murdered with the most frightful tortures. Not even the churches could protect the Christian Danes against the fury of the Anglo-Saxons. The slaughter was, however, confined almost exclusively to the south of England; since towards the north, and particularly in Northumberland, the population was chiefly of Danish and Norwegian extraction.
No sooner did the news of Ethelred’s perfidious and sanguinary act reach Denmark, than a strong fleet was fitted out, and in the following year (1003) the Danish flag waved on the coasts of England. After numerous sanguinary battles, the Anglo-Saxons were compelled to submit to Svend Tveskjæg and Canute. What could not be conquered by force of arms was obtained through prudence and cunning. The Danish conquest of England was completed, and for about one generation Danish kings wore the English crown.
Section III.
The Thames.—London.
London, and its wealthy neighbourhood, was naturally the main object of the Danish attacks in the south-east part of England. Under the Romans it had already become considerable as a commercial mart; but afterwards, under the Anglo-Saxons, it increased so much in wealth and importance, that it was, if we may use the expression, the heart of England. It was for this reason that the old northern bards used the term “Londons Drot” in their songs about the kings of England. From the first London is undoubtedly indebted for its greatness chiefly to its situation on the Thames, which opened an easy communication both with the opposite shores of the Continent and with the interior of England. In our days it is certainly a remarkable sight to observe the numberless ships that assemble there from all parts of the world, and to mark the activity that everywhere prevails on the beautiful shores of the river. But it becomes doubly remarkable when we recollect that this spectacle is neither a new one, nor has arisen under a single people; but that it has been repeated, in a somewhat altered form, for about two thousand years, under the most different circumstances: namely, under the dominion of the Britons, the Romans, the Anglo-Saxons, the Danes, and the Normans. In this respect there is no river whatsoever that can be compared with the Thames. Had it not been one of the most, or indeed quite the most, favourably situated stream in Europe for commerce, the greatest commercial city in the world would hardly have risen on its banks.
But just as the Thames brought, in the olden times, numerous merchant vessels, and, along with them, wealth and prosperity to the south of England, so must it also have frequently drawn down ruin on the surrounding districts, since it attracted thither almost all the Vikings who sought for booty and conquest. Nature herself has cut a deep bay into the eastern coast of England, at the mouth of the Thames, and thus pointed out to the Vikings the way they should pursue. The ships of the Danish Vikings constantly swarmed at the mouth of the Thames. “When they were not strong enough to sail up the river and attack London, or when the winter approached, they anchored under the coast, in places where they could lie in wait for and seize the merchantmen, and whence they could easily reach the open sea, if attacked by too superior a force. Some of their most important stations were under the Isle of Thanet, in Kent, and the Isle of Sheppey, (Anglo-Saxon, Sceapige, or the Sheep Island,) which lies at the mouth of the Thames. Thus these islands, whose remote situation rendered them sufficiently dangerous before, suffered doubly from the ravages committed by the Vikings on the coasts. Another place near the Thames, where the northern Vikings and conquerors generally landed when they harried the south of England, and where they often wintered, was the present Sandwich, in Kent. As it was an important landing-place even in the times of the Romans, they had already fortified it. Sandwich (Ang.-Sax., Wic en Stad) became in the mouths of the Northmen “Sandvic,” or the sandy bay; an appellation which perfectly agrees with the nature of the place. We find the same name for places in Orkney and the Shetland Isles, in Iceland, and Norway. From Sandwich it was but a few miles to Canterbury (in the northern tongue “Kantaraborg”), which, being a rich bishopric, was on that account exposed to remorseless plunder. In the year 1011 especially, the Jarl Thorkel the Tall, visited it with fire and sword. Christchurch, the principal church in England, was burnt down; the monks were put to death, and only one in ten of the citizens spared. Many, and among them Archbishop Elfeg, who was afterwards cruelly murdered, were cast into prison.
To the south of Canterbury, on the channel, lies “Dungeness;” and at the mouth of the Thames, “Foulness,” and “Sheerness.” The termination ness, in these names, seems to be neither Saxon, nor Celtic, but plainly the Danish and Norwegian Næs (a promontory, or lofty tongue of land, running out into the sea).
The nearer we approach London by the Thames, the more memorials we find of the Danes. Just before we reach the metropolis, we sail past Greenwich on the left, called by the northmen “Grenvik” (nearer, perhaps, “Granvigen,” the pine-bay), whose celebrated hospital contains in our days a little host of England’s superannuated seamen, who have fought in defence of her honour, and who, supported by the public, enjoy an old age free from care. In the eleventh century Grenvik was also for a long time the resting-place of a host of naval warriors, who were supported at the public expense; but that was a host of bold Danish Vikings, who, after having fearfully devastated England under their chief, Jarl Thorkel the Tall, had now, in 1011, allowed themselves to be bought off for an immense sum of money, and to settle down peaceably in the service of the English king Ethelred. From this time it became the custom for the English monarchs to have continually a standing army, composed mostly of Danes, “Huskarlene,” or “Thingmen,” as they were called (Þingmannalið), whose duty it was to keep the country quiet, and to defend it against foreign invasion; whence they sometimes came to fight against their own countrymen. King Athelstan (925-941) had, however, almost a century earlier, made use of Danish warriors to suppress revolt in his kingdom; for which purpose it was ordered that one of these men should be maintained in every house, in order that they might be always ready for the king’s service. The Thingmen were to the English kings much what the Varangians were to the Greek emperors in Constantinople. They had certain rights and privileges, and later, in particular, two places were assigned to them for their headquarters—London in the south of England; and in the north, Slesvig (Nottinghamshire). Under King Canute, they played, as is well known, a considerable part.
The name of Canute the Great is connected not only with the town of Brentford (Brandfurda), on the Thames, near the western parts of London, and with Ashingdon (Assatun), in Essex, to the north-east of London, and, as the legend says, to the north of “Daneskoven” (the Danish forest), in which places he fought bloody battles with Edmund Ironsides, before he subdued England; but it is also connected in the closest manner with London itself.
When I sailed up the Thames for the first time, and when at length, above a forest of masts, the gray turrets of the Tower appeared on one side, and London Bridge in the distance, I was involuntarily led to recall the time when King Canute long lay in vain with his ships before the fortress and bridge of the metropolis, whilst a great part of the rest of England submitted to his sway. London Bridge was defended by three castles, one of which stood on the bridge itself. The Danes attempted to dig a canal round the foot of the bridge; and though Canute, who was well supported by Thorkel the Tall, and by Erik Jarl, the Norwegian, is said to have resumed the siege several times, yet it was by negociation alone that he seems to have obtained possession of London.
Even amid the varied impressions created by the metropolis of the world, I could not forget—and what Dane could?—that it was chiefly here that for a long period the Northmen found, as it were, another home, from which they returned to their native land enriched by fresh knowledge, and on the whole with a higher degree of civilization, which they afterwards turned to account in the north; that it was here that not a few of the most zealous promoters and defenders of Christianity in Scandinavia, and amongst them particularly the Norwegian king, Olaf Trygvesön, had dwelt before they began the work of conversion; that it was here, lastly, that several Danish chieftains, and especially Canute the Great, had played the sovereign, and held their court, surrounded by the Thingmen and the bards, who in those times usually accompanied the northern kings. On surveying London, its proud river, and beautiful uplands, one cannot help doubly admiring the power of that king, who, at a distance from his native land, was not only able to command all this, as well as the whole of England, but Norway and Denmark in addition. One feels the truth of the words of the Saga about Canute: “Of all kings that have spoken the Danish tongue, he was the mightiest, and the one that reigned over the greatest kingdoms.”
Although London was at that time one of the most considerable towns in Europe, it was of course but very small compared with what it is at present. The walls inclosed only that proportionally small part of modern London called the “City,” and which forms the centre of its busy commerce. Close by lay a castle (whence the Northmen’s name for London, “Lundunaborg”), and undoubtedly on the same spot where, not long after Canute’s time, William the Conqueror built the Tower. Somewhat higher up the Thames, on an island which, from the many thorns growing there, obtained the name of Thorney (Anglo-Saxon, Thornege), or the Thorn Island, stood another castle, said to have been inhabited at different times by Canute. This island, in whose name we find both the Anglo-Saxon ege, and afterwards the northern ey (island), and which is therefore sometimes very incorrectly called Thorney Island, has now lost both its ancient name and appearance. Under the name of Westminster, it forms at present a continuous part of London.
The Dane who wanders through this immense city, will not only be reminded by such names as “Denmark Court,” “Denmark Street,” and “Copenhagen Street,” and by monuments in St. Paul’s and Westminster Abbey, of the sanguinary battles which have taken place in modern times between England and Denmark, as well as of the older ties of friendship, which for a long time found increased support by means of the relationship and reciprocal marriages which occurred in the reigning families of the two countries; but he will also find traces even to this day, of the power and influence which his forefathers, both before and after King Canute’s time, possessed in the most important commercial city of wealthy England.
Approaching the city from the west end, through the great street called “the Strand,” we see, close outside the old gate of Temple Bar, a church called St. Clement’s Danes, from which the surrounding parish derives its name. In the early part of the middle ages this church was called in Latin, “Ecclesia Sancti Clementis Danorum,” or, “the Danes’ Church of St. Clement.” It was here that the Danes in London formerly had their own burial-place; in which reposed the remains of Canute the Great’s son and next successor, Harald Harefoot. When, in 1040, Hardicanute ascended the throne after his brother Harald, he caused Harald’s corpse to be disinterred from its tomb in Westminster Abbey, and thrown into the Thames; where it was found by a fisherman, and afterwards buried, it is said, “in the Danes’ churchyard in London.” From the churchyard it was subsequently removed into a round tower, which ornamented the church before it was rebuilt at the close of the seventeenth century.
It has, indeed, been supposed by some that this church was called after the Danes only because so many Danes have been buried in it; but as it is situated close by the Thames, and must have originally lain outside the city walls, in the western suburbs, and consequently outside of London proper, it is certainly put beyond all doubt, that the Danish merchants and mariners who, for the sake of trade, were at that time established in or near London, had here a place of their own, in which they dwelt together as fellow-countrymen. Here it should also be remarked, that this church, like others in commercial towns, as, for instance, at Aarhuus in Jutland, at Trondhjem in Norway, and even in the city of London (in East Cheap), was consecrated to St. Clement, who was especially the seaman’s patron saint. The Danes naturally preferred to bury their dead in this church, which was their proper parish church.
The Danes and Norwegians also possessed an important place of trade on the southern shore of the Thames, opposite the city—in Southwark, as it is called, which was first incorporated with London, as part of the city, in the middle ages. The very name of Southwark, which is unmistakably of Danish or Norwegian origin, is evidence of this. The Sagas relate that, in the time of King Svend Tveskjæg, the Danes fortified this trading place; which, evidently on account of its situation to the south of the Thames and London, was called “Sydvirke” (Sudrvirki), or the southern fortification. From Sudrvirki, which in Anglo-Saxon was called Suð-geweorc, but which in the middle ages obtained the name of Suthwerk or Suwerk, arose the present form, Southwark, through small and gradual changes in the pronunciation. The Northmen had a church in Sydvirke dedicated to the Norwegian king, Olaf the Saint. Olaf, who fell in the battle of Stiklestad, in 1030, was so celebrated a saint that churches were built in his honour, not only in Norway, where he became the patron saint of the kingdom, and in the rest of Scandinavia, but also in almost every place where the Northmen established themselves; nay, even in distant Constantinople the Varangians had a church called after him. There is still a street in Southwark, close by London Bridge and the Thames, which bears the significant name of Tooley Street, a corruption of St. Olave’s Street. On the northern side stands a church, called St. Olave’s Church, and which is found mentioned by that name as early as the close of the thirteenth century.
Within the city, in what may be strictly called ancient London, where the Sagas already mention a St. Olaf’s Church, there are to be found at this day no fewer than three churches consecrated to St. Olave: namely, in Silver Street; at the north-west corner of Seething Lane, Tower Street; and in the Old Jewry (St. Olave’s Upwell). The two last-named stand in the eastern extremities of the city, yet within its ancient boundaries. In the same neighbourhood, near London Bridge, there is also a church dedicated to St. Magnus the Martyr, which likewise undoubtedly owes its origin to the Northmen, either the Norwegians or Danes. St. Magnus was a Norwegian jarl, who was killed in the twelfth century in Orkney, where the cathedral in Kirkwall is also consecrated to him.
That so many churches in London should be named after these Norwegian saints, Olaf and Magnus, who, moreover, were not canonized till after the death of Canute the Great, and the overthrow of the Danish dominion in England, furnishes no mean evidence of the influence of the Northmen in London. It confirms in a remarkable manner the truth of the old statements, that the Danes who dwelt in London could at times even turn the scales at the election of a king; as, for instance, after the death of Canute the Great. An English chronicler, speaking of the power of the Danes at that period, adds, that the citizens of London had, by reason of their frequent intercourse with “the barbarians” (the Danes), almost adopted their manners and customs. And it was, indeed, natural that the long voyages of the Northmen, and the important commerce carried on between the countries of Scandinavia and England, should have long secured to the northern merchants an influential position in a city like London, which was in the highest degree a commercial city, and particularly when these merchants had once been established there in great numbers.
But the most striking and remarkable memorial of the early power of the Danes and other Northmen in London is this—that the highest tribunal in the city has retained to our days its pure old northern name “Husting.” The word Thing, whereby, as is well known, both deliberative and judicial assemblies were designated in the north from the earliest times, does not seem to have been employed by the Anglo-Saxons in that signification, or at all events not before the Danish expeditions and Danish immigrations into England. The Anglo-Saxons used in that sense the term gemót, as in “Witena-gemót,” which was the name of their parliament. Husthings are also especially mentioned in the Sagas as having been held in the north, particularly by kings, jarls, and other powerful individuals. The Husthing in London was originally established in order to protect and guard the laws and liberties of the city and the customs of the courts of judicature; and the principal magistrates were judges. In the Latin of the middle ages it is said of a person who attended there—“Comparuit in Hustingo.” A similar Husting was also formerly found in the Isle of Sheppey, at the mouth of the Thames.
London, beneath whose walls and gates the Danes have fought numerous battles with various success, contains within it memorials both of their greatest power and of the decay of their dominion. On the same side of the Thames as Sydvirke, or Southwark, but somewhat higher up, lies Lambeth (formerly Lambythe, Lambgathre), which is now a part of London, and the residence of the Primate of England, but which in olden times was a village outside the capital. At a country-house there a Danish jarl celebrated his marriage in the year 1042. King Hardicanute, with a number of his followers, was present at the banquet; but just as he was drinking to the bride, he suddenly fell to the ground, in a fit of apoplexy, and shortly afterwards breathed his last at the age of only twenty-six years.
Hardicanute was the last Danish king in England.
Section IV.
Watlinga-Stræt.—South England.—Legends about the Danes.—The
graves of Canute the Great and Hardicanute.
In the heart of the city of London, near St. Paul’s Cathedral, is a street called “Watling Street.” Anciently it was connected with the great high road of the same name (or more properly Watlinga-Stræt), which had been made by the Britons from the Channel and London through the midst of England to the north-east of Wales, Chester, and the Irish Channel. On account of the importance of this road, as communicating with the interior of England as well as with Ireland, the Romans improved it. But, like most of the high roads of ancient times, it was carried over heights, with the constant view of avoiding streams which would require the erection of bridges. It followed, as nearly as possible, the natural division of the watercourse in England, or the ridge of the land watershed whence rivers take their course in all directions.
About the year 1000 this road not only showed the natural boundary between the northern and southern river-valleys, but likewise indicated in the clearest possible manner a political boundary between the inhabitants of different extraction, and different manners and customs. The districts to the north and east of this road belonged for the most part to the so-called “Dena-lagu,” or “Dane-lagh,” that is, the Dane’s community (from lag, whence in the north itself, in Norway, for instance, Thröndelagen, and in Sweden, Roslagen). For here the Danes, and other conquerors or immigrants of Scandinavian origin, had gradually subdued and expelled the Anglo-Saxons, and here the Danish laws, habits, and customs, chiefly prevailed.
In the districts to the south, on the contrary, the repulsed Anglo-Saxons had concentrated the last remnants of their former power. A great number of wealthy and leading Danes were indeed also settled here, either in the country, or, with a view to commerce, in the principal towns on the coast; as in Winchester, which, like London, long had its “Husting;” Exeter, where a church was in later times dedicated to St. Olave; and Bristol. But, out of London, the Danes scarcely formed at that time any really strong and united power in the south of England. The predominating people was the Anglo-Saxon, and in general the old Saxon characteristics had been preserved.
To the south of Watlinga-Stræt, which had already often been agreed upon between the Danish conquerors and the Anglo-Saxon kings as the boundary between the Danish and Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, Edmund Ironsides received his share of England by agreement with Canute. It was in these districts that the Anglo-Saxon kings had always found their truest and most numerous adherents, and they had therefore generally been the theatre of the more important battles between the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes. Near Wareham, in Dorsetshire, Alfred purchased peace with a host of the latter, who swore on their armlets to observe it; but, though this oath was regarded by the Danes as very sacred, they are said to have broken it immediately. During his exile Alfred concealed himself for a long time at Athelney, in Somersetshire; and near Eddington he again beat the Danes. In the neighbourhood of Athelney, Alfred also induced Gudrun (Gorm), the king of the Danish Vikings, to receive baptism. The oppressed inhabitants were in these parts scarcely ever free from the devastating attacks of the Vikings and conquerors. The Danes frequently established themselves in castles near the coast, as at Exeter, in Devonshire; Dorchester and Wareham, in Dorsetshire; Winchester, in Hampshire; and Chichester, in Sussex. At Southampton, in Hampshire, and under the Isle of Wight, they generally wintered with large fleets. Thence they made incursions into the land of the Anglo-Saxons; and if they could not entirely expel them, and colonize the south of England in their stead, they at least endeavoured to weaken and exhaust it as much as possible.
On the whole, it would not have been very easy for the Danes to settle themselves entirely in any parts of the south, or south-west, of England; not even on the coasts near the harbours, though regularly visited by the ships of the Norwegian Vikings. The inhabitants in these parts were mostly of pure Saxon descent, and consequently already prejudiced against the Danes, on account of the old disputes between the Scandinavian and Saxon races; at all events, they somewhat differed from the Danes in character, manners, and customs. These districts were, besides, too remote from Denmark; and in case of an attack from the Anglo-Saxons, which might naturally be expected to take place, assistance might come too late. The Danes were not so safe there as on the east coast of England, which lay opposite to Jutland, and where, if any danger threatened them, a ship could easily be sent with a message to their friends over the sea, so that, with a tolerably favourable wind, a strong fleet could be speedily brought within sight of the Anglo-Saxons. The Angles, whose descendants inhabited these eastern and northern districts, seem too, with regard to language and national manners, to have borne a greater resemblance to the Danes than the inhabitants of any other part of England, so that it was by no means difficult for the Danes speedily to amalgamate with them. In addition to this, the eastern coasts offered much the same allurements to the Danes as the more southern provinces. They were remarkable for their fertility and for the riches of their inhabitants, acquired as well by agriculture as by trade with Saxony, Belgium, and Gaul. Precisely on the east coast, indeed, were situated at that time some of the largest commercial towns in England.
It is not surprising, therefore, that, with the exception of London and its environs, there are not found in the south of England, as is the case farther north, many names of places of well-defined Danish or Norwegian origin, which have preserved the old northern forms down to the present day, and which thus clearly testify that a genuine Scandinavian population must long have lived there. It is only at the extremities of the coasts that an occasional promontory, or “Næs,” and small islands whose names end in ey and holm, remind one of the Northmen; as Flatholmes (Dan., Fladholmene) and Steepholmes in the Severn, where there are said to be remains of Danish fortifications; Grasholm (Dan., Græsholm), to the west of Pembrokeshire; Bardsey, west of Caernarvonshire; Priestholm (Dan., Præsteholm), near the northern inlet of the Menai Straits; and several others.
In the south of England one cannot discover any striking resemblance to the Danes either in the language, features, or frame of body of the people. What they have chiefly left behind them here is a name, which will certainly never be entirely eradicated from the people’s memory. Centuries after the Danish dominion was overthrown in England, the dread of the Danes was handed down from one generation to another, and even to this day they occupy a considerable share in the remembrance of the English nation. Throughout England the common people—nay, even a great number of the more educated classes—know of no other inhabitants of the north of Europe than “the Danes;” and as they include under this name both Swedes and Norwegians, the idea of the unity of Scandinavia has unconsciously taken root amongst them. That they have so implicitly awarded the first place in Scandinavia to the Danes, has not originated solely from the fact that, anciently, the Danes were really regarded as the leading people in the north—whence also the old Norwegian language was often called “dönsk tunga” (Danish tongue); nor because the Danes at that time undoubtedly exercised a more important influence on the British Isles than the other inhabitants of the north; it may, likewise, have arisen from the circumstance that, partly in consequence of its situation, Denmark has continued to stand, even down to our time, in much closer relations both of peace and war with England, than Sweden has; and that the separation of Norway from Denmark is still too recent an event to have completely penetrated to the knowledge of the less informed part of the English people. Even had the remembrance of the Danes in England lain slumbering there, such events as the battle in Copenhagen roads in 1801, and the seizure of the Danish fleet in 1807, must at once have brought all the old tales respecting the doings of the Danes in England to the lips of the English people.
Legends about “the Danes” are very much disseminated among the people, even in the south of England. There is scarce a parish that has not in some way or another preserved the remembrance of them. Sometimes they are recorded to have burnt churches and castles, and to have destroyed towns, whose inhabitants were put to the sword; sometimes they are said to have burnt or cut down forests; here are shown the remains of large earthen mounds and fortifications which they erected; there, again, places are pointed out where bloody battles were fought with them. To this must be added the names of places; as, the Danes-walls, the Danish forts, the Dane-field, the Dane-forest, the Danes-banks, and many others of the like kind. Traces of Danish castles and ramparts are not only found in the southern and south-eastern parts of England, but also quite in the south-west, in Devonshire and Cornwall, where, under the name of Castelton Danis, they are particularly found on the sea coast. In the chalk cliffs, near Uffington, in Berkshire, is carved an enormous figure of a horse, more than 300 feet in length; which, the common people say, was executed in commemoration of a victory that King Alfred gained over the Danes in that neighbourhood. On the heights, near Eddington, were shown not long since the entrenchments, which, it was asserted, the Danes had thrown up in the battle with Alfred. On the plain near Ashdon, in Essex, where it was formerly thought that the battle of Ashingdon had taken place, are to be seen some large Danish barrows, which were long, but erroneously, said to contain the bones of the Danes who had fallen in it. The so-called dwarf-alder (Sambucus ebulus), which has red buds, and bears red berries, is said in England to have germinated from the blood of the fallen Danes. It is therefore also called Daneblood and Danewort, and flourishes principally in the neighbourhood of Warwick; where it is said to have sprung from, and been dyed by, the blood shed there, when Canute the Great took and destroyed the town.
Monuments, the origin of which is in reality unknown, are, in the popular traditions, almost constantly attributed to the Danes. If the spade or the plough brings ancient arms and pieces of armour to light, it is rare that the labourer does not suppose them to have belonged to that people. But particularly if bones or joints of unusual size are found, they are at once concluded to be the remains of the gigantic Danes, whose immense bodily strength and never-failing courage had so often inspired their forefathers with terror. For though the Englishman has stories about the cruelties of the ancient Danes, their barbarousness, their love of drinking, and other vices, he has still preserved no slight degree of respect for Danish bravery and Danish achievements. “As brave as a Dane” is said to have been an old phrase in England; just as “to strike like a Dane” was, not long since, a proverb at Rome. Even in our days Englishmen readily acknowledge that the Danes are “the best sailors on the Continent;” nay even that, themselves of course excepted, they are “the best and bravest sailors in all the world.” It is, therefore, doubly natural that English legends should dwell with singular partiality on the memorials of the Danes’ overthrow. Even the popular ballads revived and glorified the victories of the English. Down to the very latest times was heard in Holmesdale, in Surrey, on the borders of Kent, a song about a battle which the Danes had lost there in the tenth century.
Amidst the many memorials of “the bloody Danes,” the name of Canute the Great lives in glorious remembrance amongst the English people. It is significant that later times have ascribed to Canute the honour of important public undertakings for the common benefit, which, however, at most, he can only have continued and forwarded. In the once marshy districts towards the middle of the east coast of England, there is a ditch several miles long, called the Devil’s dyke (in Cambridgeshire), the formation of which is by some attributed to Canute, although it existed in the time of Edward the Elder. Canute’s name is also given to a very long road over the morasses near Peterborough (Kinges or Cnutsdelfe), although it was made before his reign. Canute’s name is also preserved in Canewdon (Canuti domus), near London, and close by the battle-field of Ashingdon, in Essex, where he is said to have frequently resided. In like manner a bird, said to have been brought into England from Denmark, has been called after him Knot (Lat., Tringa Canutus seu Islandica).
It may be asserted, with truth, that not many English kings have left a better name behind them than Canute. He does not owe this only to the favour he showed the clergy, the authors of most of the chronicles of ancient times. He acquired it by his numerous and excellent laws, by the power he exerted in restoring order and tranquillity in the kingdom, by his wisdom in suppressing the ancient animosities between the Danes and Anglo-Saxons, as well as by the care he took to promote the knowledge and piety of his people. He issued severe laws against heathenism, and endeavoured to wipe out the traces of his forefathers’ devastations by re-building convents and churches. He even caused the corpse of Archbishop Elfeg, so cruelly murdered by the followers of Thorkel the Tall, to be conveyed with great solemnity from London to Canterbury, and deposited in the cathedral. To these traits may be added his many excellent personal qualities, his sincere repentance for the acts of violence which he committed in the heat of passion, and his profound humility before God. The story of his shaming some of his courtiers, who flattered him when walking on the seashore whilst the tide was flowing, is, if possible, still better known in England than in Denmark. It would be difficult to find any one who is not acquainted with all the particulars of it, and who has not heard it stated that Canute, from that very day, placed his golden crown on the altar of Winchester cathedral, and never wore it more. This is one of those traits of true nobility and greatness of soul that are imperishable in all times and ages.
Canute was first buried in the old convent of St. Peter’s at Winchester; but his body was afterwards removed into the grand choir of the cathedral, where both his and his son Hardicanute’s tombs are still to be seen. Over Hardicanute’s, in the wall that surrounds the middle of the choir, was placed (1661) a stone, on which a ship is carved, and the following inscription:—
Qui jacet hic regni sceptrum tulit Hardicanutus;
Emmæ Cnutonis gnatus et ipse fuit.
In hac cista Lo. 1661. Obiit A.D. 1042.
Or, “Hardicanute, who lies here, and who was a son of Emma and Canute, bore the kingdom’s sceptre. He died in the year of our Lord 1042, and was placed in this coffin in 1661.”
[[++]] Hardicanute’s Tombstone, ship
The form of the ship on the tombstone shows it to be of no older date than the seventeenth century; but it was possibly carved there because a ship of war had previously adorned the tomb of Hardicanute. At all events, it indicates his relationship with the powerful Scandinavian sea-kings, and his descent from those Northmen who for centuries were absolute on the ocean.
Above the before-mentioned wall, in the grand choir, there stands to the left of the entrance a rather plain wooden coffin, decorated with a gilt crown, half fallen off, with the inscription:—
“In this and another coffin, directly opposite, repose the remains of Kings Canute and Rufus, of Queen Emma, and of the Archbishops Winde and Alfvin.”
[[++]] Canute’s Tomb
In Cromwell’s time, the coffins of the kings in the grand choir of Winchester cathedral were broken open, and the bones dispersed; but they were afterwards collected together, as far as this could be done, and again placed in the grand choir in coffins like the one just mentioned. Thus Canute the Great, whose ambition could not be bounded even by three kingdoms, has not retained so much as a grave for himself and his beloved Emma. The presentiment of the perishableness of all earthly power that seized him when he deposited his golden crown in the same place has, in truth, been fulfilled!
The other royal coffins that surround the grand choir in Winchester contain the bones of several old Saxon kings. That the Danish kings Canute and Hardicanute should be entombed among them, in the midst of Anglo-Saxon south England, is a sufficient proof of the immense change that had taken place with regard to the Danes in England since their first appearance there as barbarous heathen Vikings. Instead of their kings seeking renown by the destruction of churches and convents, and by murdering or maltreating the clergy; instead of their despising any other kind of burial than that in the open fields, on hills under large cairns, or monumental stones, their successors were now regarded as the benefactors and protectors of the Church, and as such worthy to repose in the most important ecclesiastical edifices, even in the principal district of their former mortal enemies. Nay, the clergy there were indefatigable in handing down their glory to the latest ages; and thus a statue of Canute the Great was long to be seen in the cathedral of Winchester.
But this also affords a striking proof that the Danes and Anglo-Saxons no longer regarded each other so much in the light of strangers, or with such mutual feelings of enmity as before; and that Canute had thus happily broken through the strong barrier which had hitherto separated Saxon south England from Danish north England.
Section V.
The Wash.—The Five Burghs.—The Humber.—York.—Northumberland.—Stamford
Bridge.
The Thames certainly brought many Danes in ancient times to the country south of Watlinga Stræt; but the large bay on the eastern coast of England, called the “Wash,” and the rivers Humber, Tees, and Tyne, attracted still more of them to the eastern and northern districts. The Wash especially seems to have been one of the landing places most in favour with them. Whether it were its situation, directly opposite to Jutland on the one side, and on the other, on a line with the fruitful midland districts of England; or whether it were rather the rapid current which sets in there that attracted the ships of the Vikings, is a point that we must leave undecided. This much, however, is certain, that the first and richest settlements of the Danes were around this bay; and from it afterwards extended itself quite up to the frontiers of Scotland, the so-called “Danelagh;” which was a district so considerable as to comprise fifteen of the thirty-two counties, or shires, then existing in England, and amongst them the extensive county of Northumberland.
South of the Wash, and extending towards the Thames, lay East Anglia (Norfolk and Suffolk); which, a century after the commencement of the Vikings’ expeditions, was already in the hands of the Danes. Alfred the Great was compelled to cede it, together with several adjacent tracts of country, by formal treaty, to the Danish King Gudrun, or Gorm. It is certain that it had at that time, like Kent, received many Danish settlers, particularly from the neighbouring Jutland, and their number continually increased. Yet in East Anglia they seem to have been scarcely more in a condition to compete with the Anglo-Saxons, in regard to population and power, than in Kent. It was only on the coast, and indeed only on that of Norfolk, that they had any settlements, as the Scandinavian names of places still preserved there show. These districts lay too near to the main strength of the Anglo-Saxons. The Saxon inhabitants did not easily suffer themselves to be expelled, and the Danish dominion there could not, consequently, become of permanent importance.
But to the north and west of the Wash the Danes obtained a very different footing. In the province called Mercia (or the Marches), which formed the centre of England, and in that of Lindisse (or, in old Norsk, Lindisey), which extended from the Wash to the Humber, they were not only in possession of a great number of villages and landed estates, which they had selected to settle on, but had likewise made themselves masters of several towns, and particularly the five strong fortresses of Stamford, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, and Lincoln. These places, which as early as Alfred’s reign belonged to the Danes, and which were distinguished by their size, their commerce, and their wealth, obtained the name of “The Five Burghs” (Femborgene). They formed, as it were, a little separate state, and possessed in common their own courts of judicature, and other peculiar municipal institutions. The hostile and dangerous neighbourhood of the Saxons naturally compelled them to coalesce together as much as possible; and for a very long period they formed the chief support of the Danish power in England. Protected by them from all attacks from the south, the Scandinavian settlers were enabled securely to continue establishing themselves in the more northern districts. To arrest the sudden attacks of the Britons in the west, the Danes also had, on the north-eastern frontier of Wales, the city of Chester, whose name (Anglo-Saxon, Lægeceaster, from the Latin castra, a camp) shows that it had been a fortified place still earlier, under the Romans.
Chester formed one of the principal entrances from Wales into the midland parts of England, as well as into what was then called Northumberland: under which name was comprised, at least by the Danes and Norwegians, all the country to the north of the rivers Mersey and Humber, from sea to sea, and up to the Scottish frontier. Covered by the “Five Burghs,” it was here that the greater part of Danish England lay. It was a country filled, particularly in the north-west, with mountains, and intersected by numerous rivers. Near these, valleys opened themselves in every direction, of which the largest and most considerable lay around the tributary streams of the Humber, in what is now Yorkshire. A separate kingdom had existed here from the oldest times; and here the Danes, like the Britons, the Romans, and the Anglo-Saxons before them, possessed the most important city in the north of England. Built on the river Ouse, which falls into the Humber, it carried on an extensive trade; and, as the principal seat of the Northumbrian kings and chiefs, was doubly important. The Britons called it “Caer Eabhroig,” or “Eabhruc,” the Romans “Eboracum,” the Anglo-Saxons “Eoforwic,” and the Danes “Jorvik;” whence it is plain that the form “York,” now in use, is derived.
The Humber and York were for the north of England much what the Thames and London were for the south. It is not therefore surprising that York came to possess within its walls the largest and most splendid cathedral in England, which still towers aloft, a proud and awe-inspiring monument of the power and religious enthusiasm of the middle ages; nor that the history of York comprises, so to speak, the whole of that of Northumberland.
The soil of south England received the dust of the Christian Danish kings, and of Canute the Great, the hero of Christendom. But the north of England held the bones of many a mighty Danish chieftain, who had never renounced his belief in the ancient gods; and, in the neighbourhood of York, one of the most renowned of heathen heroes, King Regner Lodbrog, met his death. The names of Regner and his sons were reverenced and feared in England from their earlier Viking expeditions. When about to invade England, he suffered shipwreck, and together with only a few of his men saved himself on the coast of Northumberland. The Saxon king, Ella, advanced against him from York; a battle ensued, and, after the bravest resistance, Regner was overcome and made a prisoner. With true northern pride he would not make himself known to Ella, who caused him to be thrown into a pen filled with snakes; and it was not till the dying Regner had sung his swan’s-song, “Grynte vilde Grisene, kjendte de Galtens Skjebne” (How the young pigs would grunt if they knew the old boar’s fate), that Ella too late observed to his terror that he had exposed himself to the fearful vengeance of the king’s sons; who, guided by the shrewd Ivar Beenlöse, had long been silently preparing for the conquest of Ella’s kingdom. Ella was vanquished and made prisoner; and, according to the Norwegian legend, Regner’s sons, to avenge their father’s miserable death, caused a blood-eagle to be carved on Ella’s back. The place of Ella’s death is said by some to have been near the town of “Ellescroft,” or Ella’s Grave. The English accounts make Regner’s sons, Ingvar and Ubbe, revenge their father’s death in the year 870, by murdering in a most horrible manner King Edmund (who was afterwards canonized) at the castle of Æglesdon, in East Anglia. They shot at him as at a mark, then cut off his head, and lastly laid the body among thorns, in the same forest where their father had been put to death.
Ivar Beenlöse (the Boneless) succeeded to the kingdom of Northumberland after Ella; where also such names of subsequent kings as Sigtryg, Regnald, Godfred, Anlaf (Olaf), and Heric (Erik), unmistakably show their Scandinavian origin. In Olaf’s time, at the beginning of the tenth century, the Anglo-Saxon king Athelstane (Adelsteen) succeeded in subjecting Northumberland, whilst Denmark and Norway, as before mentioned, were prevented by internal distractions from sending any effectual assistance to the Danes in England. Olaf fled to Ireland, and Godfred to Scotland, to assemble the Scandinavian warriors in those parts, and Athelstane in the mean time destroyed the Danish castle in York. It is related that Olaf returned with more than six hundred ships, and again took possession of York. He had with him a great number of Northmen and Danes from Ireland and Scotland, together with a great many Celtic Cymri and Britons, and the Scottish King Constantine was also in his army. Athelstane and this brother Edmund arrayed a mighty force against them at Brunanborg (Bromford?), where, in the year 937, a battle was fought; which, though unfavourable to the Danes, afforded the old northern bards matter for enthusiastic song, of which the Sagas have still preserved some remains. Subsequently a treaty with King Edmund, in 941, gave Olaf the dominion over the country east and north of Watlinga-Stræt; but the dispute soon broke out afresh. After the death of the Northumbrian King Erik in 951, Northumberland ceased to be a kingdom. From this time it became an earldom (Jarledömme), which was, however, for the most part, almost entirely independent of the Anglo-Saxon kings, and governed by Norwegian chieftains. For a long time it constantly received fresh inhabitants from the mother countries, Denmark and Norway. Many Norwegians came over; nay, even the King Erik just mentioned may possibly have been the renowned Norwegian King Erik Blodöxe, a son of Harald Haarfager, the first absolute sovereign of Norway. After the death of Harald, Erik became chief sovereign in Norway; but he and his queen, the notorious Gunhilde, ruled here with so much cruelty, that the Norwegians gave Erik the surname of Blodöxe (Blood-axe). Driven from his kingdom, he at length repaired to Northumberland, where King Athelstane is said to have made him a tributary king, and where, after many vicissitudes of fortune, he met his death.
Between the Northumbrian Jarledömme—whence the dignity of the Northern “Jarls” began to extend itself to the rest of England, which has still preserved it in the title of “Earl”—as well as between the Danish part of England and the proper kingdom of the Anglo-Saxons in general, disputes must naturally have prevailed of a more or less sanguinary kind. As a necessary consequence of this, the Danish kings, in their later expeditions against the Anglo-Saxons for the purpose of conquest, resorted to, and sought support in, the Danish part of the north of England, in the districts near the Humber. In the year 1013, King Svend Tveskjæg anchored in this river with a powerful fleet, when he came over to conquer England. In conjunction with his son Canute, who afterwards completed the conquest, he had previously lain at anchor at Sandvik (Sandwich), in Kent. From the Humber he anchored in the river Trent, at Gegnesburgh (or Gainsborough), in Lincolnshire; whence he harried the whole of eastern, and part of southern England. The Old Danish land to the north of Watlinga-Stræt was the first to pay him homage; the rest of England soon yielded to him, and King Ethelred was obliged to fly to Normandy. But just as Svend, in the midst of his victorious career, had returned to Gainsborough—just as he was fleecing and levying contributions both on laity and clergy—he suddenly fell from his horse at an assize, or Thing, in a fit of illness, and died the following night, the 3rd of February, 1014. Monkish chronicles relate that it was St. Edmund who killed him. Ethelred, who now returned to England, in vain ordered a strict search to be made for the body of Svend, with the view of wreaking a cowardly vengeance on the impotent corpse of the man who, when alive, had been so terrible an antagonist to him. But the body had been secretly conveyed to York, where it was kept concealed during the winter (but scarcely in the cathedral, although that church had been founded long before, and was, perhaps, even considerably enlarged by the Norwegian princes who resided at York). Towards the spring it was brought over to Denmark by some Englishwomen, who were probably of Scandinavian extraction, and placed in the cathedral of Roeskilde, in one of the pillars in the grand choir.
Under the Danish rule, the Danish-Norwegian population in the north of England increased considerably, both in strength and numbers; although Christianity, by the wise arrangements of Canute, and particularly by his severe laws against heathenism, was almost completely disseminated there. Even after the Danish dominion had come to an end by the death of Hardicanute in 1042, and the Anglo-Saxon kings had again taken the helm, the old warlike spirit of the north continued, in spite of Christianity, to stir in the Northumbrian people. The successors of the Vikings still preferred, to a natural death, a glorious one on the field of battle; but Christian tenets no longer permitted them to be marked, when on the bed of sickness, with the point of a spear, in order to consecrate themselves to Odin, according to the heathen custom. The mighty Danish jarl Sivard (Sigeward or Siwerd) reigned over them at that time, who had fought in many battles both in England and Scotland, whereby his name became immortalized in Shakspeare’s “Macbeth.” When the news was brought to him that his son had fallen in battle, he inquired whether he had received his death wound in front or behind. Being answered, “Before;”—“In that case,” he exclaimed, “I have reason to rejoice, for no other death was befitting my son, or me.” When Siward himself afterwards lay on his death-bed, and felt the approach of dissolution, an old chronicler (Henry of Huntingdon) represents him as breaking out into sorrowful complaints, and exclaiming, “How shameful it is for me, that I have never been able to meet death in my numerous battles, but have been reserved to die with disgrace like an old cow. Clothe me at least in my impenetrable armour, gird me with my sword, cover my head with my helmet, place my shield in my left, and my gilded axe in my right hand, that I, the bold warrior, may also die like one.” Attired in full armour, he passed gladly to his fathers in the year 1055, and doubtless with the secret hope of enjoying in Valhalla a continuation of that proud martial life for which there would soon have been no longer room either in Northumberland or in the parent lands of Scandinavia.
Shortly after the death of Siward, the country near York also became the theatre where one of the last celebrated Vikings of the north fell. Harald Haardraade was indeed a Christian, and a king in Norway; but with him, as with many of his cotemporaries, Christianity dwelt only on his lips. In his heart he was still the bold Viking, who valued Hildur’s bloody game more than holy psalms, and who preferred conquest on foreign shores to the peaceful government of an hereditary kingdom. Whilst still young he had distinguished himself in expeditions in the East, and in the Greek Empire. It seemed to him disgraceful that those lands, particularly in the north of England, which had once belonged to his forefathers, should for ever be wrested from Norway. He therefore agreed to assist Toste Godvinsön against his brother, the English King Harald Godvinsön; but on the condition that he himself, if he succeeded in conquering Harald, should have the dominion of England, whilst Toste was to have the half of it as jarl, or earl. They landed in the Humber; but in the battle which shortly afterwards took place (in 1066) at Stamford Bridge, a little to the east of York, both Toste and Harald fell. Thus the latter gained no more of England’s soil than the English King Harald had offered him before the battle, namely, “seven feet of earth, or as much as he was taller than other men.”
This was one of the last serious attempts on the part of Denmark or Norway to reconquer England; and in the same year the Normans, after the battle of Hastings, in which King Harald fell, seized the kingdom which their Danish kinsmen had formerly possessed. William the Conqueror went in person against the Northumbrians; but before he disembarked he is said to have broken up the tumulus on the coast (by the Humber?) in which, according to the legend, Regner Lodbrog’s son, Ivar Beenlöse, had ordered himself to be buried, in order to avert the attacks of foreigners. William had to combat long before he could reduce Northumberland; but, as we shall afterwards see, he never succeeded in subduing that spirit of freedom and independence which the Danes and Norwegians had planted there.
Section VI.
Danish-Norwegian Memorials in the North of England.—Coins.—The
Raven.—The Danish Flag.
If even the old Saxon south England is distinguished by its richness in legends and still-existing memorials of the Danes, it is natural that they should be met with in still greater numbers in the old Danish districts to the north and east of Watlinga-Stræt.
Here also the Norwegian saint, “St. Olave,” has been zealously worshipped, both in the country and in the towns. In Norfolk (East Anglia) there is a bridge called “St. Olave’s Bridge.” In itself it is a remarkable monument of a time when bridges over rivers were regarded as such considerable and important structures that, like churches, they were named after, or dedicated to saints; in ancient Scandinavia they even built bridges, as several runic stones testify, “for their souls’ salvation.” In the city of Chester, on the northern frontier of Wales, there is to be found in the southern outskirts, opposite the old castle and close to the river Dee, a church and parish which still bear the name of St. Olave. By the church runs a street called “St. Olave’s Lane.” In the north-west part of York there is likewise a St. Olave’s church, said to be the remains of a monastery founded by the powerful Danish Jarl Siward, who was himself buried there in the year 1055. There can be no doubt that similar churches dedicated to St. Olave were scattered about in other towns of north England, where further researches might possibly yet discover at least some of them.
These traces of the importance formerly conferred on St. Olave in the towns of north England lead one to conjecture that, even after the Danish ascendancy in England was annihilated, a great number of Northmen must have continued to reside there, as was the case in London. This is so much the more natural, as, long before the Norman Conquest, the Northmen preponderated in many, perhaps in most, mercantile towns of the north of England, and particularly in the fortified towns occupied by the Danes. At the time of the Conquest, the population in some of the largest and most important cities towards the east coast, such as Lincoln and York, is said to have been almost exclusively of Scandinavian extraction; hence it was that Lincoln and York, at least, preserved their original Scandinavian “husting” throughout the middle ages, and even later.
In and about the last-named city, which was the chief place in Danish north England, are numerous Scandinavian memorials. The names of several streets in York end in gate. In London, where the same termination of the names of streets frequently occurs, some have, indeed, endeavoured to derive this gate from the gates which these streets adjoined; and, as far as regards London, this explanation may probably in most cases be correct. But in York, where formerly there were at least a score of such streets, it is certainly by no means a probable conjecture that twenty gates existed from which their names were derived; and it therefore becomes a question whether these gates should not be derived from the old Scandinavian “gata” (a street), particularly when they appear in compound names, such as Petersgate (Petersgade), Marygate (Mariegade), Fishergate (Fiskergade), Stonegate (Steengade), Micklegate (from the old Scandinavian “mykill,” signifying great); which have a striking resemblance with Scandinavian names of streets; nay, there is even a legend respecting Godram, or Guthramgate, that it was named after a Danish chieftain, Guthrum or Gorm, who is said to have dwelt there. The historical accounts of the number and influence of the Northmen in York cannot but strengthen these suppositions in a high degree.
North-east of York, on the coast towards the German ocean, is a promontory called “Flamborough-head.” It is separated from the main land by an immense rampart said to have been raised by the Danes, and called on that account “the Danes’ Dyke,” behind which they intrenched themselves on landing. At no great distance, near Great Driffield, is “the Danes’ Dale,” and “the Danes’ Graves,” where remains of the Danes who fell in a battle are said to have been dug up. South of York, on the Humber, between Richal and Skipwith, human bones and pieces of iron have likewise been found in several barrows, or tumuli, ascribed to the Danes. It is supposed that the Danes and Norwegians landed in this neighbourhood at different times, when proceeding up the Humber on their warlike expeditions.
The popular legend of the bloody battle by Stamford Bridge, or, as it was afterwards called, “Battle Bridge,” is not yet obsolete. A piece of ground near the bridge over the river Derwent is called “Battle-flats,” and in the surrounding fields, where, for about a century after the battle, large heaps of human bones were to be seen, joint-bones, together with iron swords and other weapons, have been ploughed up, as well as horse-shoes that would be suitable for the small Norwegian horses. The English chronicles which describe this battle are lavish in their praises of a Norwegian, who, in the midst of the fight, stood quite alone on the bridge over the Derwent, and for several hours kept Harald Godvinsön’s whole army at bay, until at length a man glided under the bridge and ran him through from below with a spear. The inhabitants of the village of Stamford Bridge have to the present day kept up the custom of celebrating this deed at an annual festival, by making puddings in the form of a vessel or trough; for, as the legend states, it was in a trough that the slayer of the Norwegian passed under the bridge. It is certain, however, that the river Derwent hereabouts has only lately been made navigable.
It would lead us too far to relate, even in an abbreviated form, all the legends, or to reckon up all the numerous memorials, which, to the north of Watlinga-Stræt, are connected with the Danes. It is not only the common people in England who in general ascribe every ancient monument of any importance to the Danes; there was a time, and no very distant one, when many learned men were but too much inclined to do the same. In proof of this it suffices to remark that the celebrated circle of stones at Stonehenge, on Salisbury Plain, in Wiltshire—the most superb monument of its kind in the British Islands, or even in the whole of northern Europe—was also at one time described by the learned as a Danish place of sacrifice, although it is clearly distinguished, both by its structure and whole appearance, from the ancient monuments of Scandinavia; and although, on the contrary, the highest degree of probability proclaims its having originated from the older inhabitants of England, the ancient Britons. It is undoubtedly true, that want of adequate experience and knowledge was generally the real cause why the learned were never able to distinguish, with certainty, between what ancient monuments were really Danish and what were not. Nevertheless they would assuredly never have given the Danes credit for so many monuments, at the expense of their own countrymen and ancestors, had they not acknowledged that the immigration and settlement of the Danes in England was of the most widely-extended importance.
Even in our days English antiquarians are not disinclined to ascribe British, Roman, or Anglo-Saxon antiquities to the Danes; as well as to suppose, on the whole, that there are more monuments of the Danes extant in England, than, strictly speaking, that people can validly claim.
At first sight it might indeed appear that the Danes, who so early, and for so long a period, had extensive possessions in the north of England, must have left there a great number of tumuli, stone circles, and cairns; as well as, in consequence of their numberless fights and battles, a considerable quantity of entrenchments. It is sufficiently known how careful the old Northmen were to hand down to posterity the memory of a hero, and of his deeds. The doctrines of Odin even commanded it, as a sacred duty, to erect bauta stones in memory of the brave; which is one of the principal reasons why Scandinavia is distinguished, even down to modern times, by such a striking abundance of ancient monuments.
But with regard to England, we must not forget that the inhabitants of the central and northern parts had for centuries been Christians when the heathen Danes began to make conquests there. Among the Danes, as among the Northmen in general, the belief in their ancient gods had been weakened, and faith in their own power and strength had frequently usurped its place. Living among Christians in a foreign land, and doubtless, also, often marrying native females, they easily adopted, at least in form, the novel doctrines of Christianity, and with them the customs which they brought in their train. They soon renounced the usage of placing the dead in mounds, after the heathen manner, and of providing them with the weapons and ornaments which were dearest to them when alive. The bodies were buried in churchyards, or in the churches themselves; and the precious things which were formerly thought to secure for the hero an honourable seat in Valhalla, now for the most part remained above ground, where they generally found their way into the pocket of the monk, in order that he might deliver the deceased from purgatory by masses for his soul, and procure him an easy entrance into the kingdom of heaven. By degrees, as the Danes abandoned themselves to the influence of the higher civilization of England, they must also have adopted the most essential parts of the English dress, or at all events English ornaments; and consequently, even if only some few of these were deposited in the barrows, it became almost impossible to decide, when these graves were opened after a long lapse of time, whether it were Danes or Anglo-Saxons who had been originally interred in them.
Thus it is easily explained why but, proportionally, very few really Danish or Scandinavian barrows and monumental stones are to be found in England. We must not ascribe it to the progress of agriculture alone that, even in the north of England, we may search the fields in vain for stones, which, by runic inscriptions in the ancient language of Scandinavia, have preserved the remembrance of some distinguished warrior from the eastern lands beyond the sea. It is but rarely that one can even fancy that he has met with a Scandinavian runic stone; but a closer inspection will soon show that both the runes, and particularly the language in which the inscriptions are couched, betray a foreign, and especially an Anglo-Saxon, origin. The most important runic stone in these northern districts is found near the English border, in the Scotch town of Ruthwell, on the other side of Solway Firth. It is of considerable height, and is ornamented with a number of carvings of biblical scenes, mingled with figures of leaves, birds, and animals. Besides Latin inscriptions indicating and explaining these Christian carvings, there is a runic inscription on the stone which was long considered, both by British and Scandinavian archæologists, to be Danish, or at least to contain remnants of the old Scandinavian language. But it is now shown to be derived neither from the Danes nor Norwegians, but from the Anglo-Saxons, as the supposed Scandinavian inscription includes some verses of an old devotional Anglo-Saxon poem. The whole appearance of the stone, also, is rather Saxon than Danish. The runic characters are, in part at least, different from those of Scandinavia, and the words are not, as in them, separated by points. Ornaments with similar so-called Anglo-Saxon runic inscriptions are not altogether uncommon in England, particularly in the north. But as not a few ornaments, as well as runic stones with inscriptions in the selfsame character, are also found in the countries of Scandinavia, both in Denmark and Norway, and particularly the latter, and the west and south of Sweden (and there mostly in Bleking), it may be a question whether this runic writing was not originally brought over to England by Scandinavian emigrants. It would otherwise be inexplicable that they should have used entirely foreign runic characters in Scandinavia, whilst they possessed a peculiar and genuine Scandinavian runic writing of their own. The true state of the matter will not, however, be brought to light till antiquarians succeed in explaining, in a satisfactory manner, the inscriptions with Anglo-Saxon runes that are found in England as well as in Scandinavia, and which, for the most part, have not hitherto been deciphered.
[[++]] Swords -
Fig. 1. Scandinavian
and Fig. 2. Saxon
It is a matter of course that arms and ornaments should be at times dug up in England that belonged to Scandinavian Vikings, who found either death or a new habitation on the English shore. In the rivers on the eastern coast, where the Vikings’ ships showed themselves so regularly, and where remains of these ships are supposed to be now and then discovered, iron swords have been found, as for instance in the Thames, of undoubted Scandinavian origin. (Fig. 1.) They are in general longer and heavier than the Saxon sword (Fig. 2.), and are superior to them from having a guard, and a large, and commonly triangular, knob at the hilt. On the other hand, they are exactly of the same kind as our Scandinavian swords of what is called “the iron age;” that is, they belong to the latest period of heathenism. The Vikings, who often had to combat from their ships, and who, being few in number, were so much the more obliged to depend on their arms and the strength of their weapons, were necessarily compelled to have them both long and good. “Danish battle-axes” are usually mentioned in the old English and Frankish chronicles as excellent and dangerous weapons of attack. Nay, even from the distant Myklegaard, or Constantinople, where the Northmen, under the name of Varangians, served for a long series of years as the Greek Emperor’s bodyguard, stories have reached us of the particular kind of battle-axes which they wielded with such strength. These axes, like the swords, were frequently inlaid with silver or gold, and were of excellent workmanship. It is also related by Giraldus Cambrensis that the Irish procured their battle-axes from the Northmen. The Danes in England, at least towards the latter part of their sway, are likewise said to have used shirts of mail, or chain armour, in which, however, the rings were not interlaced, but sewed on by the side of each other; helmets, with iron bands that covered the nose; and lastly, large pointed triangular shields. Some are even of opinion that these coats of mail were commonly black, and that this gave rise to the Danes being sometimes called “the black Danes.” Others derive this surname from the colour of their hair and skin, which must at that time have been in general considered darker than the Norwegian complexion; whilst others, again, infer that the Danes generally used black sails for their ships, and the Norwegians white. The Scotch and Irish distinguish clearly between “Dubgall” or the black stranger (whence the present name Dugal), and “Finngall,” or the fair stranger. Old Irish authors also call the inhabitants of Denmark “Dublochlannoch” (dark Lochlans), and the inhabitants of Norway “Finn-Lochlannoch” (fair Lochlans). Lochlan is with them the usual appellation of Scandinavia.
Besides their arms, the ornaments and decorations of the Danes and Norwegians were also of a peculiar kind; at least they are in general clearly different from the Anglo-Saxon ornaments now discovered in graves in England. As the Danish and British antiquities of the earlier, or what is called the bronze period, betray a considerable and well-defined difference, so also a comparison between the corresponding antiquities of the iron period will clearly show, that even if Roman taste formed the basis of art both among the Anglo-Saxons and the Danes and Norwegians during the last-named period, yet that each people followed its own independent course. That the Northmen, consequently, were not exclusively indebted to England for all that fresh development of taste which predominated at the close of heathenism and commencement of Christianity, but that they had themselves, before the Conquest of England, already made a great step in advance, was however no more than what one might expect from a people capable of building ships that crossed the Atlantic, and who were acquainted with, and frequently used, a peculiar sort of writing, the Northern runes.
But though, at present at least, it is scarcely possible to point out in England proper a single runic memorial of undoubted Danish or Norwegian origin, still there are found at times, particularly in north England, certain antiquities, with inscriptions that perfectly supply the want of those illustrations which the runic stones would otherwise afford, respecting the influence and settlements of the Northmen in England. These are small silver coins struck by Danish-Norwegian kings and jarls during their dominion there. I do not allude, of course, to coins of such kings as Canute the Great, Harald Harefoot, and Hardicanute; for as these princes held a confirmed dominion in England—and that at a time when coining was general in Europe, and when on the whole the light of history begins to shine clearer—there would be nothing strange, nor particularly instructive in an historical point of view, that they also had coined money. I refer to coins of Danish-Norwegian chiefs, whose deeds in England the chronicles have related either sparingly or not at all, and who lived more than a century before the Conquest by Canute the Great.
A short stay would easily have sufficed to erect a runic or bauta-stone; and great and imminent indeed must have been the danger which threatened the Northman of the olden time if he omitted, even on a foreign soil, to perform the last honours for a fallen friend or relative. But a coin was not so quickly minted. The countries of Scandinavia had not a mintage of their own before the year 1000, or thereabout; when the Danish king, Svend Tveskjæg, having brought home with him from his expedition into England, a quantity of Anglo-Saxon coins, began to have them imitated. The Scandinavian Viking, to whom coining was a strange and unknown art, had enough to do, during a short and dangerous expedition for conquest, to procure a footing and support for his army; and if he failed in conquering a kingdom, he was glad to bring home as booty some pounds of foreign money. It was only when he had made himself king or jarl over a considerable district, and when he had begun to exchange his wild warrior’s life for the milder occupations of peace, that he could have leisure to reflect that he also, like other princes in England, should promote his people’s welfare and his own advantage by ordering those coins to be minted which are so important for trade and commerce. The older the dates of such Danish-Norwegian coins struck in England—the rarer the minting of coins in general, even in the more enlightened countries—so much the more clearly is the existence proved of well-established Scandinavian kingdoms, where works of peace were already capable of thriving.
Some few years ago (1840), a highly remarkable and very ancient treasure of silver was discovered near Cuerdale in Lancashire, within the boundaries of the ancient Northumberland. It consisted of bars, armlets, a great number of pieces of broken rings and other ornaments, as well as about seven thousand coins, all of which were inclosed in a leaden chest. To judge from the coins, which, with a few exceptions, were minted between the years 815 and 930, the treasure must have been buried in the first half of the tenth century, or almost a hundred years before the time of Canute the Great. Amongst the coins, besides a single Byzantine piece, were found several Arabic or Kufic, some of north Italy, about a thousand French, and two thousand eight hundred Anglo-Saxon pieces, of which only eight hundred were of Alfred the Great. But the chief mass, namely, three thousand pieces, consisted of peculiar coins, with the inscriptions, “Siefredus Rex,” “Sievert Rex,” “Cnut Rex,” “Alfden Rex,” and “Sitric Comes” (jarl); and which, therefore, merely from their preponderating number, may be supposed to have been the most common coins at that time, and in that part of north England where the treasure had been concealed. Cnut’s coins were the most numerous, as they amounted to about two thousand pieces of different dies; which proves a considerable and long-continued coining.
Not only are the names Sitric (Sigtryg), Alfden (Halvdan), Cnut (Knud), Sievert (Sivard), and Siefred (Sigfred), visibly of Scandinavian origin, but they also appear in ancient chronicles as the names of mighty Scandinavian chiefs, who in the ninth and tenth centuries ravaged the western lands.
[[++]] Coin: Sitric Comes
Sitric Comes is certainly that Sitric Jarl who fell in a battle in England about the year 900. Alfden is undoubtedly the same king “Halfden,” who at the close of the ninth century so often harried south England,—where he even besieged London—till he fell in the battle at Wednesfield in 910. Cnut, whose name is found inscribed on the coins in such a manner that one letter stands on each of the four arms of a cross, whilst the inscription R, E, X. (Rex) is inclosed between them, is probably he whom the Danes called “Knud Daneast” (or the Danes’ Joy), a son of the first Danish monarch Gorm the Old; as it is truly related of him that he perished in Vesterviking (or the western lands). Sigfred must either have been the celebrated Viking king for whose adventurous expedition France, and its capital Paris in particular, had to pay dearly; or that Sigefert, or Sigfred, who in the year 897 ravaged the English coasts with an army of Danes from Northumberland.
[[++]] Coin: Cnut
[[++]] Coin: Cnut reverse
The steady connection which the Vikings in England maintained with France affords a natural explanation why their coins were imitations both of contemporary English, or Anglo-Saxon, and of French coins. Thus on the reverse of Cnut’s coins just mentioned, we sometimes find, as on that engraved above, the inscription “Elfred Rex,” which is purely Anglo-Saxon; and sometimes the particular mark for Carolus, or Charles (Karl), which otherwise is only found on the French Carlovingian coins.
[[++]] Coin: Ebraice
A very frequent inscription on the Scandinavian coins here alluded to, as for instance in the last engraving, is “Ebraice Civita,” or “The city of York;” whose ancient name “Eabhroig,” and in the barbarous Latin of the time “Eboracum,” was converted into “Ebraice.” On other contemporary coins struck at York, namely on some of what is called St. Peter’s money, York is also called “Ebracec” and “Ebraicit.” For the Cuerdale coins, in order to express the name “Ebraice,” coins of French kings of the city of “Ebroicas,” or Evreux, in Normandy, seem to have been particularly chosen as patterns; for by a slight change of a few letters this Ebroicas could be converted into Ebraice; which was the easier process at a time when the art of stamping coins was not much practised. An additional proof that these coins were really minted by Scandinavian kings in Northumberland, and in the city of York, is, that none such have been found in any other part of England; whilst, on the contrary, one of Canute’s coins, which have been so frequently mentioned, was dug up, together with English and French coins of the same kind as those found at Cuerdale, at Harkirke near Crosby, also in Lancashire; and consequently at places whose names ending in kirke (church) and by (town), bear witness no less than that of Cuerdale (from dal, a valley) to the dominion of the Northmen in those parts.
Should any doubt still exist that, so early as the ninth century, Danish-Norwegian kings and jarls minted a considerable number of coins in York, in imitation of contemporary Anglo-Saxon and French coins, it is at all events certain that the Northumbrian kings Regnald, Anlaf or Olaf, and Erik, who resided in York during the first half of the tenth century, caused coins of their own to be minted there, and which agree exactly with the historical accounts. Regnald, who reigned from about 912 to 944, was a son of King Sigtryg, and brother to the Olaf before mentioned, who fought the battle of Brunanborg; Erik (+ 951) is either King Erik Blodöxe of Norway, or a son of King Harald Blaatand of Denmark, who is said to have ruled in Northumberland about the same time.
In the main points these coins are also imitations of the Anglo-Saxon, but are distinguished from them by various and very striking peculiarities, which show them to have been coined both by Danes, or Norwegians, and by conquerors. Erik designates himself on them by the Latin title “Rex,” as was usual at that time even among the Anglo-Saxons; but Regnald and Anlaf use the pure Northern title “Cununc;” or, in the Icelandic mode of writing, Konungr, the ancient Scandinavian word for King. Some of these coins have martial emblems which do not appear on the Anglo-Saxon coins of the same period, and which, therefore, were clearly intended to be in honour of the warlike qualities and victories of the Northmen. Erik’s coins have a sword of the peculiar Scandinavian form, with a triangular pummel at the end of the hilt.
[[++]] Coin: Erik Rex
Similar swords are also seen on the St. Peter’s money before mentioned, coined at York during the rule of the Scandinavian kings. One of these coins represents a bent bow with the arrow on it, and on the reverse a sledgehammer, or battle-axe.
[[++]] Coin: Olaf
[[++]] Coin:
[[++]] Coin: Cnutr. Recx
Regnald’s and Anlaf’s (or Olaf’s) coins, with the Scandinavian legend “Cununc” instead of “Rex,” are ornamented with shields placed together (an emblem which may have been transferred from them to the later coins of Harald Haardraade and other Norwegian kings); as well as with flags of a triangular form, with hanging fringes. It is remarkable enough, that though such flags are not to be found on contemporary English coins, a piece of the Danish-English king’s, Canute the Great, has lately been found on which the king’s bust is represented, and before it a striped triangular flag with hanging fringes, of the same form as the flags on the coins of the Danish-Norwegian kings in north England. The legend on one side is, “Cnutr. Recx;” and on the other, “Brihtred on Lun;” which shows that the coin was minted in London.
Coin: [[++]] Anlaf Cunune
Thus the coins, in conjunction with the chronicles, contribute to prove that flags were important emblems with the northern conquerors, which was indeed quite natural with a people like the ancient Scandinavians. The old Sagas in particular contain frequent accounts of the great value that the Northmen set on these flags, or, as they were then called, “mærker” (marks). Thus the Norwegian chief Harald Haardraade, before he became king of Norway, and after his return from his many expeditions into the Greek Empire, sitting and conversing one evening (according to the nineteenth chapter of his Saga) with King Svend Estridsen of Denmark at the drinking table, Svend asked him what precious things he had that he set most value on? He answered, his banner, called Landöde (or, the land-ravager). Svend then asked what qualities this banner had, since he esteemed it so precious a thing? Harald replied, “They say that he before whom this banner is borne always gains the victory; and such has constantly been the case since I possessed it.”
The class of coins before alluded to as minted by Danish-Norwegian sovereigns in England not only presents a remarkable view of the importance, as well as appearance, of the old Scandinavian flags, or marks, but also serves in a high degree to confirm the repeated accounts of the English chroniclers, that “the Danes,” during their conquests in the western lands, often bore a common standard, or national flag; a point about which the Danish chronicles or Sagas are silent. A coin of Anlaf, or Olaf, king of Northumberland, is particularly illustrative of this. It has the legend, “Anlaf Cununc,” and represents a bird with extended wings, in which English antiquarians have very justly recognised the raven, the chief ensign, or emblem, of the ancient Danes.