Section V.

Qui jacet hic regni sceptrum tulit Hardicanutus;Emmæ Cnutonis gnatus et ipse fuit.In hac cista Lo. 1661. ObiitA.D.1042.

Qui jacet hic regni sceptrum tulit Hardicanutus;

Emmæ Cnutonis gnatus et ipse fuit.

In hac cista Lo. 1661. ObiitA.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.

The Wash.—The Five Burghs.—The Humber.—York.—Northumberland.—StamfordBridge.

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, orThing, 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.

Danish-Norwegian Memorials in the North of England.—Coins.—TheRaven.—The Danish Flag.

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 ingate. In London, where the same termination of the names of streets frequently occurs, some have, indeed, endeavoured to derive thisgatefrom 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 thesegatesshould 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. Scandinavianand 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 inkirke(church) andby(town), bear witness no less than that of Cuerdale (fromdal, 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 forKing. 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

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