THEDANES IN ENGLAND.

Nature of the Country.—Earlier Inhabitants: Britons, Romans, andAnglo-Saxons.

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.

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 ofBjörn 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, towardsA.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, calledDanegelt, 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.

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 “LondonsDrot” 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 terminationness, in these names, seems to be neither Saxon, nor Celtic, but plainly the Danish and NorwegianNæs(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 theThingmenand 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-Saxonege, and afterwards the northerney(island), and which is therefore sometimes very incorrectly called ThorneyIsland, 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 ofSouthwark, 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 wordThing, 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 termgemót, 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.

Watlinga-Stræt.—South England.—Legends about the Danes.—Thegraves of Canute the Great and Hardicanute.

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 (fromlag, 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 ineyandholm, 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,theDane-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 ofCastelton 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 calledDanebloodandDanewort, 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 himKnot(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:—

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