CHAPTER IV

THE LEGEND OF THE NORSEMEN

There are many stories of the coming of white men to the coasts of

America and of their settlements in America long before the voyage of

Christopher Columbus. Even in the time of the Greeks and Romans there

were traditions and legends of sailors who had gone out into the 'Sea

of Darkness' beyond the Pillars of Hercules--the ancient name for the

Strait of Gibraltar--and far to the west had found inhabited lands.

Aristotle thought that there must be land out beyond the Atlantic, and

Plato tells us that once upon a time a vast island lay off the coasts

of Africa; he calls it Atlantis, and it was, he says, sunk below the

sea by an earthquake. The Phoenicians were wonderful sailors; their

ships had gone out of the Mediterranean into the other sea, and had

reached the British Isles, and in all probability they sailed as far

west as the Canaries. We find, indeed, in classical literature many

references to supposed islands and countries out beyond the Atlantic.

The ancients called these places the Islands of the Blessed and the

Fortunate Isles. It is, perhaps, not unnatural that in the earlier

writers the existence of these remote and mysterious regions should be

linked with the ideas of the Elysian Fields and of the abodes of the

dead. But the later writers, such as Pliny, and Strabo, the geographer,

talked of them as actual places, and tried to estimate how many Roman

miles they must be distant from the coast of Spain.

There were similar legends among the Irish, legends preserved in

written form at least five hundred years before Columbus. They recount

wonderful voyages out into the Atlantic and the discovery of new land.

But all these tales are mixed up with obvious fable, with accounts of

places where there was never any illness or infirmity, and people lived

for ever, and drank delicious wine and laughed all day, and we cannot

certify to an atom of historic truth in them.

Still more interesting, if only for curiosity's sake, are weird stories

that have been unearthed among the early records of the Chinese. These

are older than the Irish legends, and date back to about the sixth

century. According to the Chinese story, a certain Hoei-Sin sailed out

into the Pacific until he was four thousand miles east of Japan. There

he found a new continent, which the Chinese records called Fusang,

because of a certain tree--the fusang tree,--out of the fibres of which

the inhabitants made, not only clothes, but paper, and even food. Here

was truly a land of wonders. There were strange animals with branching

horns on their heads, there were men who could not speak Chinese but

barked like dogs, and other men with bodies painted in strange colours.

Some people have endeavoured to prove by these legends that the Chinese

must have landed in British Columbia, or have seen moose or reindeer,

since extinct, in the country far to the north. But the whole account

is so mixed up with the miraculous, and with descriptions of things

which certainly never existed on the Pacific coast of America, that we

can place no reliance whatever upon it.

The only importance that we can attach to such traditions of the

discovery of unknown lands and peoples on a new continent is their

bearing as a whole, their accumulated effect, on the likelihood of such

discovery before the time of Columbus. They at least make us ready to

attach due weight to the circumstantial and credible records of the

voyages of the Norsemen. These stand upon ground altogether different

from that of the dim and confused traditions of the classical writers

and of the Irish and Chinese legends. In fact, many scholars are now

convinced that the eastern coast of Canada was known and visited by the

Norsemen five hundred years before Columbus.

From time immemorial the Norsemen were among the most daring and

skilful mariners ever known. They built great wooden boats with tall,

sweeping bows and sterns. These ships, though open and without decks,

were yet stout and seaworthy. Their remains have been found, at times

lying deeply buried under the sand and preserved almost intact. One

such vessel, discovered on the shore of Denmark, measured 72 feet in

length. Another Viking ship, which was dug up in Norway, and which is

preserved in the museum at Christiania, was 78 feet long and 17 feet

wide. One of the old Norse sagas, or stories, tells how King Olaf

Tryggvesson built a ship, the keel of which, as it lay on the grass,

was 74 ells long; in modern measure, it would be a vessel of about 942

tons burden. Even if we make allowance for the exaggeration or

ignorance of the writer of the saga, there is still a vast contrast

between this vessel and the little ship Centurion in which Anson sailed

round the world.

It is needless, however, to prove that the Norsemen could have reached

America in their ships. The voyages from Iceland to Greenland which we

know they made continually for four hundred years were just as arduous

as a further voyage from Greenland to the coast of Canada.

The story of the Norsemen runs thus. Towards the end of the ninth

century, or nearly two hundred years before the Norman conquest, there

was a great exodus or outswarming of the Norsemen from their original

home in Norway. A certain King Harold had succeeded in making himself

supreme in Norway, and great numbers of the lesser chiefs or jarls

preferred to seek new homes across the seas rather than submit to his

rule. So they embarked with their seafaring followers--Vikings, as we

still call them--often, indeed, with their wives and families, in great

open ships, and sailed away, some to the coast of England, others to

France, and others even to the Mediterranean, where they took service

under the Byzantine emperors. But still others, loving the cold rough

seas of the north, struck westward across the North Sea and beyond the

coasts of Scotland till they reached Iceland. This was in the year 874.

Here they made a settlement that presently grew to a population of

fifty thousand people, having flocks and herds, solid houses of stone,

and a fine trade in fish and oil with the countries of Northern Europe.

These settlers in Iceland attained to a high standard of civilization.

They had many books, and were fond of tales and stories, as are all

these northern peoples who spend long winter evenings round the

fireside. Some of the sagas, or stories, which they told were true

accounts of the voyages and adventures of their forefathers; others

were fanciful stories, like our modern romances, created by the

imagination; others, again, were a mixture of the two. Thus it is

sometimes hard to distinguish fact and fancy in these early tales of

the Norsemen. We have, however, means of testing the stories. Among the

books written in Iceland there was one called the 'National Name-Book,'

in which all the names of the people were written down, with an account

of their forefathers and of any notable things which they had done.

It is from this book and from the old sagas that we learn how the

Norsemen came to the coast of America. It seems that about 900 a

certain man called Gunnbjorn was driven westward in a great storm and

thrown on the rocky shore of an ice-bound country, where he spent the

winter. Gunnbjorn reached home safely, and never tried again to find

this new land; but, long after his death, the story that there was land

farther west still lingered among the settlers in Iceland and the

Orkneys, and in other homes of the Norsemen. Some time after

Gunnbjorn's voyage it happened that a very bold and determined man

called Eric the Red, who lived in the Orkneys, was made an outlaw for

having killed several men in a quarrel. Eric fled westward over the

seas about the year 980, and he came to a new country with great rocky

bays and fjords as in Norway. There were no trees, but the slopes of

the hillsides were bright with grass, so he called the country

Greenland, as it is called to this day. Eric and his men lived in

Greenland for three years, and the ruins of their rough stone houses

are still to be seen, hard by one of the little Danish settlements of

to-day. When Eric and his followers went back to Iceland they told of

what they had seen, and soon he led a new expedition to Greenland. The

adventurers went in twenty-five ships; more than half were lost on the

way, but eleven ships landed safely and founded a colony in Greenland.

Other settlers came, and this Greenland colony had at one time a

population of about two thousand people. Its inhabitants embraced

Christianity when their kinsfolk in other places did so, and the ruins

of their stone churches still exist. The settlers raised cattle and

sheep, and sent ox hides and seal skins and walrus ivory to Europe in

trade for supplies. But as there was no timber in Greenland they could

not build ships, and thus their communication with the outside world

was more or less precarious. In spite of this, the colony lasted for

about four hundred years. It seems to have come to an end at about the

beginning of the fifteenth century. The scanty records of its history

can be traced no later than the year 1409. What happened to terminate

its existence is not known. Some writers, misled by the name

'Greenland,' have thought that there must have been a change of climate

by which the country lost its original warmth and verdure and turned

into an arctic region. There is no ground for this belief. The name

'Greenland' did not imply a country of trees and luxuriant vegetation,

but only referred to the bright carpet of grass still seen in the short

Greenland summer in the warmer hollows of the hillsides. It may have

been that the settlement, never strong in numbers, was overwhelmed by

the Eskimos, who are known to have often attacked the colony: very

likely, too, it suffered from the great plague, the Black Death, that

swept over all Europe in the fourteenth century. Whatever the cause,

the colony came to an end, and centuries elapsed before Greenland was

again known to Europe.

This whole story of the Greenland settlement is historical fact which

cannot be doubted. Partly by accident and partly by design, the

Norsemen had been carried from Norway to the Orkneys and the Hebrides

and Iceland, and from there to Greenland. This having happened, it was

natural that their ships should go beyond Greenland itself. During the

four hundred years in which the Norse ships went from Europe to

Greenland, their navigators had neither chart nor compass, and they

sailed huge open boats, carrying only a great square sail. It is

evident that in stress of weather and in fog they must again and again

have been driven past the foot of Greenland, and must have landed

somewhere in what is now Labrador. It would be inconceivable that in

four centuries of voyages this never happened. In most cases, no doubt,

the storm-tossed and battered ships, like the fourteen vessels that

Eric lost, were never heard of again. But in other cases survivors must

have returned to Greenland or Iceland to tell of what they had seen.

This is exactly what happened to a bold sailor called Bjarne, the son

of Herjulf, a few years after the Greenland colony was founded. In 986

he put out from Iceland to join his father, who was in Greenland, the

purpose being that, after the good old Norse custom, they might drink

their Christmas ale together. Neither Bjarne nor his men had ever

sailed the Greenland sea before, but, like bold mariners, they relied

upon their seafaring instinct to guide them to its coast. As Bjarne's

ship was driven westward, great mists fell upon the face of the waters.

There was neither sun nor stars, but day after day only the thick wet

fog that clung to the cold surface of the heaving sea. To-day

travellers even on a palatial steamship, who spend a few hours

shuddering in the chill grey fog of the North Atlantic, chafing at

delay, may form some idea of voyages such as that of Bjarne Herjulf and

his men. These Vikings went on undaunted towards the west. At last,

after many days, they saw land, but when they drew near they saw that

it was not a rugged treeless region, such as they knew Greenland to be,

but a country covered with forests, a country of low coasts rising

inland to small hills, and with no mountains in sight. Accordingly,

Bjarne said that this was not Greenland, and he would not stop, but

turned the vessel to the north. After two days they sighted land again,

still on the left side, and again it was flat and thick with trees. The

sea had fallen calm, and Bjarne's men desired to land and see this new

country, and take wood and water into the ship. But Bjarne would not.

So they held on their course, and presently a wind from the south-west

carried them onward for three days and three nights. Then again they

saw land, but this time it was high and mountainous, with great shining

caps of snow. And again Bjarne said, 'This is not the land I seek.'

They did not go ashore, but sailing close to the coast they presently

found that the land was an island. When they stood out to sea again,

the south wind rose to a gale that swept them towards the north, with

sail reefed down and with their ship leaping through the foaming

surges. Three days and nights they ran before the gale. On the fourth

day land rose before them, and this time it was Greenland. There Bjarne

found his father, and there, when not at sea, he settled for the rest

of his days.

Such is the story of Bjarne Herjulf, as the Norsemen have it. To the

unprejudiced mind there is every reason to believe that his voyage had

carried him to America, to the coast of the Maritime Provinces, or of

Newfoundland or Labrador. More than this one cannot say. True, it is

hard to fit the 'two days' and the 'three days' of Bjarne's narrative

into the sailing distances. But every one who has read any primitive

literature, or even the Homeric poems, will remember how easily times

and distances and numbers that are not exactly known are expressed in

loose phrases not to be taken as literal.

The news of Bjarne's voyage and of his discovery of land seems to have

been carried presently to the Norsemen in Iceland and in Europe. In

fact, Bjarne himself made a voyage to Norway, and, on account of what

he had done, figured there as a person of some importance. But people

blamed Bjarne because he had not landed on the new coasts, and had

taken so little pains to find out more about the region of hills and

forests which lay to the south and west of Greenland. Naturally others

were tempted to follow the matter further. Among these was Leif, son of

Eric the Red. Leif went to Greenland, found Bjarne, bought his ship,

and manned it with a crew of thirty-five. Leif's father, Eric, now

lived in Greenland, and Leif asked him to take command of the

expedition. He thought, the saga says, that, since Eric had found

Greenland, he would bring good luck to the new venture. For the time,

Eric consented, but when all was ready, and he was riding down to the

shore to embark, his horse stumbled and he fell from the saddle and

hurt his foot. Eric took this as an omen of evil, and would not go; but

Leif and his crew of thirty-five set sail towards the south-west. This

was in the year 1000 A.D., or four hundred and ninety-two years before

Columbus landed in the West Indies.

Leif and his men sailed on, the saga tells us, till they came to the

last land which Bjarne had discovered. Here they cast anchor, lowered a

boat, and rowed ashore. They found no grass, but only a great field of

snow stretching from the sea to the mountains farther inland; and these

mountains, too, glistened with snow. It seemed to the Norsemen a

forbidding place, and Leif christened it Helluland, or the country of

slate or flat stones. They did not linger, but sailed away at once. The

description of the snow-covered hills, the great slabs of stone, and

the desolate aspect of the coast conveys at least a very strong

probability that the land was Labrador.

Leif and his men sailed away, and soon they discovered another land.

The chronicle does not say how many days they were at sea, so that we

cannot judge of the distance of this new country from the Land of

Stones. But evidently it was entirely different in aspect, and was

situated in a warmer climate. The coast was low, there were broad

beaches of white sand, and behind the beaches rose thick forests

spreading over the country. Again the Norsemen landed. Because of the

trees, they gave to this place the name of Markland, or the Country of

Forests. Some writers have thought that Markland must have been

Newfoundland, but the description also suggests Cape Breton or Nova

Scotia. The coast of Newfoundland is, indeed, for the most part, bold,

rugged, and inhospitable.

Leif put to sea once more. For two days the wind was from the

north-east. Then again they reached land. This new region was the

famous country which the Norsemen called Vineland, and of which every

schoolboy has read. There has been so much dispute as to whether

Vineland--this warm country where grapes grew wild--was Nova Scotia or

New England, or some other region, that it is worth while to read the

account of the Norse saga, literally translated:

They came to an island, which lay on the north side

of the land, where they disembarked to wait for good

weather. There was dew upon the grass; and having

accidentally got some of the dew upon their hands and

put it to their mouths, they thought that they had

never tasted anything so sweet. Then they went on

board and sailed into a sound that was between the

island and a point that went out northwards from the

land, and sailed westward past the point. There was

very shallow water and ebb tide, so that their ship

lay dry; and there was a long way between their ship

and the water. They were so desirous to get to the

land that they would not wait till their ship floated,

but ran to the land, to a place where a river comes

out of a lake. As soon as their ship was afloat they

took the boats, rowed to the ship, towed her up the

river, and from thence into the lake, where they cast

anchor, carried their beds out of the ship, and set

up their tents.

They resolved to put things in order for wintering

there, and they erected a large house. They did not

want for salmon, in both the river and the lake; and

they thought the salmon larger than any they had ever

seen before. The country appeared to them to be of so

good a kind that it would not be necessary to gather

fodder for the cattle for winter. There was no frost

in winter, and the grass was not much withered. Day

and night were more equal than in Greenland and

Iceland.

The chronicle goes on to tell how Leif and his men spent the winter in

this place. They explored the country round their encampment. They

found beautiful trees, trees big enough for use in building houses,

something vastly important to men from Greenland, where no trees grow.

Delighted with this, Leif and his men cut down some trees and loaded

their ship with the timber. One day a sailor, whose home had been in a

'south country,' where he had seen wine made from grapes, and who was

nicknamed the 'Turk,' found on the coast vines with grapes, growing

wild. He brought his companions to the spot, and they gathered grapes

sufficient to fill their ship's boat. It was on this account that Leif

called the country 'Vineland.' They found patches of supposed corn

which grew wild like the grapes and reseeded itself from year to year.

It is striking that the Norse chronicle should name these simple

things. Had it been a work of fancy, probably we should have heard, as

in the Chinese legends, of strange demons and other amazing creatures.

But we hear instead of the beautiful forest extending to the shore, the

mountains in the background, the tangled vines, and the bright patches

of wild grain of some kind ripening in the open glades-the very things

which caught the eye of Cartier when, five centuries later, he first

ascended the St Lawrence.

Where Vineland was we cannot tell. If the men really found wild grapes,

and not some kind of cranberry, Vineland must have been in the region

where grapes will grow. The vine grows as far north as Prince Edward

Island and Cape Breton, and, of course, is found in plenty on the

coasts of Nova Scotia and New England. The chronicle says that the

winter days were longer in Vineland than in Greenland, and names the

exact length of the shortest day. Unfortunately, however, the Norsemen

had no accurate system for measuring time; otherwise the length of the

shortest winter day would enable us to know at what exact spot Leif's

settlement was made.

Leif and his men stayed in Vineland all winter, and sailed home to

Greenland in the spring (1001 A.D.). As they brought timber, much

prized in the Greenland settlement, their voyage caused a great deal of

talk. Naturally others wished to rival Leif. In the next few years

several voyages to Vineland are briefly chronicled in the sagas.

First of all, Thorwald, Leif's brother, borrowed his ship, sailed away

to Vineland with thirty men, and spent two winters there. During his

first summer in Vineland, Thorwald sent some men in a boat westward

along the coast. They found a beautiful country with thick woods

reaching to the shore, and great stretches of white sand. They found a

kind of barn made of wood, and were startled by this first indication

of the presence of man. Thorwald had, indeed, startling adventures. In

a great storm his ship was wrecked on the coast, and he and his men had

to rebuild it. He selected for a settlement a point of land thickly

covered with forest. Before the men had built their houses they fell in

with some savages, whom they made prisoners. These savages had bows and

arrows, and used what the Norsemen called 'skin boats.' One of the

savages escaped and roused his tribe, and presently a great flock of

canoes came out of a large bay, surrounded the Viking ship, and

discharged a cloud of arrows. The Norsemen beat off the savages, but in

the fight Thorwald received a mortal wound. As he lay dying he told his

men to bury him there in Vineland, on the point where he had meant to

build his home. This was done. Thorwald's men remained there for the

winter. In the spring they returned to Greenland, with the sad news for

Leif of his brother's death.

Other voyages followed. A certain Thorfinn Karlsevne even tried to

found a permanent colony in Vineland. In the spring of 1007, he took

there a hundred and sixty men, some women, and many cattle. He and his

people remained in Vineland for nearly four years. They traded with the

savages, giving them cloth and trinkets for furs. Karlsevne's wife gave

birth there to a son, who was christened Snorre, and who was perhaps

the first white child born in America. The Vineland colony seems to

have prospered well enough, but unfortunately quarrels broke out

between the Norsemen and the savages, and so many of Karlsevne's people

were killed that the remainder were glad to sail back to Greenland.

The Norse chronicles contain a further story of how one of Karlsevne's

companions, Thorward, and his wife Freydis, who was a daughter of Eric

the Red, made a voyage to Vineland. This expedition ended in tragedy.

One night the Norsemen quarrelled in their winter quarters, there was a

tumult and a massacre. Freydis herself killed five women with an axe,

and the little colony was drenched in blood. The survivors returned to

Greenland, but were shunned by all from that hour.

After this story we have no detailed accounts of voyages to Vineland.

There are, however, references to it in Icelandic literature. There

does not seem any ground to believe that the Norsemen succeeded in

planting a lasting colony in Vineland. Some people have tried to claim

that certain ancient ruins on the New England coast--an old stone mill

at Newport, and so on--are evidences of such a settlement. But the

claim has no sufficient proof behind it.

On the whole, however, there seems every ground to conclude that again

and again the Norsemen landed on the Atlantic coast of America. We do

not know where they made their winter quarters, nor does this matter.

Very likely there were temporary settlements in both 'Markland,' with

its thick woods bordering on the sea, and in other less promising

regions. It should be added that some writers of authority refuse even

to admit that the Norsemen reached America. Others, like Nansen, the

famous Arctic explorer, while admitting the probability of the voyages,

believe that the sagas are merely a sort of folklore, such as may be

found in the primitive literature of all nations. On the other hand,

John Fiske, the American historian, who devoted much patient study to

the question, was convinced that what is now the Canadian coast, with,

probably, part of New England too, was discovered, visited, and

thoroughly well known by the Norse inhabitants of Greenland. For

several centuries they appear to have made summer voyages to and from

this 'Vineland the Good' as they called it, and to have brought back

timber and supplies not found in their own inhospitable country. It is

quite possible that further investigation may throw new light on the

Norse discoveries, and even that undeniable traces of the buildings or

implements of the settlers in Vineland may be found. Meanwhile the

subject, interesting though it is, remains shrouded in mystery.

The Dawn of Canadian History : A Chronicle of Aboriginal Canada · 第 4 / 6 章