THE VIKING MARINERS
War has always been a great incentive to shipbuilding. But this
statement requires modification by excluding both civil war and the
merchant ship. Of the former, no better instance could be found than
the disastrous Wars of the Roses. Of the latter, the manner in which
the Romans and others developed the war-galley at the neglect of the
merchant ship is a clear example.
The Vikings, too, were great warriors; hence the wonderful development
of their ships was for hostile purposes. But, unlike the Romans, they
were equally distinguished as maritime explorers. And it is with their
methods on the sea that we are now about to deal. They were so vigorous
in their activities, so dauntless and daring, such genuinely strenuous
shipmen that they were bound to do great things, or fail where none
could have succeeded. “They had neither compass nor astronomical
instruments,” as Dr. Nansen reminds us, “nor any of the appliances of
our time for finding their position at sea; they could only sail by the
sun, moon, and stars, and it seems incomprehensible how for days and
weeks, when these were invisible, they were able to find their course
through fog and bad weather. But they found it, and the open craft of
the Norwegian Vikings, with their square sails, fared north and west
over the whole ocean, from Novaya Zemlya and Spitzbergen to Greenland,
Baffin’s Bay, Newfoundland, and North America, and over these lands and
seas the Norsemen extended their dominion. It was not till five hundred
years later that the ships of other nations were to make their way to
the same regions.”[18]
That being so, how did these men succeed in making such long passages?
The lodestone or compass did not reach Norway until the thirteenth
century. I think that before we attempt a more definite answer we
should make a great allowance for that sea-sense which is partly inborn
and partly obtained by the experience of long years. I remember once
asking a man who had been skipper of a coaster, whose family had lived
their lives on the sea or by it, whose brothers had gone down with
their ships to the port whence there is no returning--how the captains
of such craft managed. Had they any real knowledge of navigation?
“No, sir,” my friend answered, “they’re all mostly self-reliant.” In
other words, they have a rough knowledge of the problems, and the rest
is instinct. Only the other day I was talking to yet another plain,
seafaring man. I asked him how he and his mates managed to find their
way in by night through a certain very tricky and unlighted channel
that was full of dangers and scoured by a strong tide. It was the same
answer. “They managed as best they could,” relied on their instinct,
sometimes made mistakes and got picked up, but on the whole succeeded
in getting through.
I suppose it was much the same with the Vikings. But with this
exception: that, being unfettered by book-learning, they possessed
the instinctive faculty more thoroughly. They knew the Scandinavian
coast-line thoroughly well; and long coasting voyages had taught them
the configuration of other nations’ shores. The rising and setting of
the sun would assist them in clear weather, and the Pole-star at night.
They were wont to carry in their ships a number of ravens, and when
they were expecting soon to make a landfall and it was useless to climb
the mast, they released these birds, which, flying high, spotted the
distant shore and flew towards it. The Viking mariner could thus set
his course to follow their direction of flight.
Of course, with such rough-and-ready methods they made egregious
mistakes and sometimes found themselves sailing in exactly the opposite
direction to that desired, like some amateur yachtsmen who have sailed
through the night by the wind and not known that the wind had veered
several points. Dr. Nansen gives as an instance of a Viking’s mistake
that of Thorstein Ericson, who in starting from Greenland arrived off
Iceland instead of America. And, be it added, there are plenty of
well-found ships to-day, both sail and steam, which, in spite of all
their sextants, their patent logs, and deep-sea sounding leads, have
made landfalls miles off their course.
Their sense of time, too, was another instinct which few of us possess
to-day. “Several accounts show,” says the same Scandinavian authority,
“that on land the Scandinavians knew how to observe the sun accurately,
in what quarter and at what time it set, how long the day or the night
lasted at the summer or winter solstice, etc. From this they formed an
idea of their northern latitude.” It is just possible that they may
even have understood how to take primitive measurements of the sun’s
altitude at noon with a species of quadrant. But it is not likely
that during those long, early voyages they could have been able to
take observations of this kind from their ships. Nor can they have
understood how to reckon the latitude from such measurements except at
the equinoxes and solstices.
From the narrative of a voyage north of Baffin’s Bay, about the year
1267, it appears that they endeavoured at sea to get an idea of the
sun’s altitude by observing where the shadow of the gunwale, on the
side nearest the sun, fell on a man lying athwartships when the sun was
in the south. This shows, at any rate, that the Norsemen did at least
observe the sun’s altitude. Even in thick weather they could get along
satisfactorily provided that the wind did not shift and send them off
their course. But if the breeze veered or backed a few points they
would be heading unconsciously in the wrong direction.
The observations of birds were of no little assistance. If the haze hid
the land off whose coasts they imagined themselves to be, they could
observe the kind of bird which was flying around them. A flight of
wild-fowl, a particular breed of sea-bird, the difference in the fauna,
and so on, when off such coasts as Scotland, Ireland, Iceland, and
Norway, could not fail to assist them greatly. It is true, also, that
in their sailing directions they took notice of the whale. Thus, when
sailing from Norway to Greenland one should keep at such a distance
to the southward of Iceland as to have birds and whales from thence.
Similarly, the drift-ice, icebergs, driftwood, floating seaweed, the
colour of the sea were all separate units in the whole method which
enabled them to perform what they did. The Gulf Stream water, being of
a purer blue than the greenish-brown water of the coastal current, must
also have assisted them in their long voyages. Like the ancient seamen
of the Mediterranean, they relied largely on the sounding lead, and
there is a record that Ingolf and Hjorleif found Iceland “by probing
the waves with the lead.”
[Illustration: PRIMITIVE NAVIGATION OF THE VIKINGS.
Finding the ship’s latitude by the shadow of the gunwale.]
As to the primitive method, referred to above, for finding the ship’s
latitude by observing the shadow of the gunwale, it has been suggested
that they might have measured the length of the shadow of the gunwale
by marks on the thwart, and determined when the boat lay on an even
keel by means of a bowl of water. They could thus obtain a fairly
trustworthy measurement of the sun’s altitude. It has been thought
possible that the Norwegians might have become acquainted with the
hour-glass either from their voyages to Southern Europe, or else by
plundering the monasteries. This would enable them to measure the
length of day approximately, and so, taken in conjunction with the sun,
be able to tell fairly correctly the direction of the cardinal points
of the compass.
There are some who scoff at the idea that the Vikings discovered North
America. But there are first-rate authorities, among whom may be
reckoned Dr. Nansen himself, who are quite convinced that these men did
sail across the sea and land there. Certain incredulous people would
have us believe that an open craft such as the Viking type would never
last out a voyage like that across the Atlantic. But this supposition
is immediately refuted by the Norse craft which was built on the lines
and to the exact dimensions of the Gogstad Viking ship discovered in
1880. Rigged with a squaresail, with a jib added and without any other
ship as convoy, this replica was sailed from Bergen to Newport, Rhode
Island, in the year 1893. The voyage began on May 1, and the United
States were reached on June 13. She was commanded by Captain Magnus
Andersen, who had already, in 1886, crossed the Atlantic in an open
boat. Although bad weather was encountered, yet Captain Andersen and
his crew of eleven men reached Newport in safety. His ship proved that
the Viking type made a very fine seaboat, and furthermore that she was
fast even in the deep furrows of the ocean; for she did an average of
nine knots easily, but when the seas fitted her exactly she could reel
off her eleven knots.
For these old Vikings, intrepid mariners and pioneers of the sea, had
by their skill and experience been able to develop an improved type
of ship which combined the advantages of speed and seaworthiness.
In such craft they voyaged to places as far apart as Palestine and
Greenland. By their travels they completely changed the existing
ideas of geography. When they ceased to make merely coasting voyages
and took to the blue water, they were doing more than perhaps they
realised. They crossed the North Sea to the Shetlands and Orkneys, to
Britain and Ireland, to the Faroe Isles, to Iceland, to Greenland, and
finally to America. Just exactly when first the Northmen crossed the
North Sea cannot be determined; but some authorities believe that it
was undertaken before the Viking age. As early as the third century
of the Christian era, the Eruli sailed from Scandinavia over the seas
of Western Europe and ravaged Gaul and Spain, and even penetrated
during the fifth century to the Mediterranean as far as Italy. During
the sixth century the Vikings voyaged from Denmark to the land of the
Franks, but the first Viking expedition began in A.D. 793. In the year
999, Leif, the son of Eric the Red, sailed from Greenland via the
Hebrides to Norway. This is the first recorded time that such a lengthy
sea voyage was attempted, for prior to this the journey had been made
via Iceland. But it is also clear, from the sailing directions which
have come down to us for navigating the northern waters, that voyages
were made direct from Norway to Greenland. It was this same Leif who,
in the year A.D. 1000, discovered America.
The question must necessarily occur (as in the case of the
circumnavigation of Africa by the Phœnicians) as to the means of
provisioning these Viking ships for such lengthy cruises. If Captain
Andersen and his men in 1893 were able to last out, there is no reason
why the ancient Norsemen should not, even if we make some allowance for
the modern advantages of preserved foods. We know very little as to
the methods adopted to ensure adequate food-supplies, but we do know
that bronze cooking vessels have been found which belonged to these
craft. They used salt meat and salt fish, and these they could obtain
by hunting and fishing in the neighbourhood of Iceland, Scotland,
Greenland, and so on. Nansen asserts that they certainly took cattle
with them on some voyages; and they could also catch seals to keep the
pot from running empty. In sheltered waters, such as the Norwegian
fjords, when at anchor, the crew erected a triangular awning over the
ship and turned-in in leather sleeping bags.
But it is by making a careful study of the Sagas that we are able to
get a true idea of the life and methods of these magnificent seamen,
and from this source I propose to extract the following interesting
data. In these heroic narratives there is much to interest the lover of
the sea and ships. There is a continual clashing of shield and sword, a
slatting of canvas and a splashing of oars, as the long-ships leap over
the cold, silvery seas. The air is full of the deep-throated shouts of
the sea-kings; the horizon is bright with the coloured sails and the
gilded prows. Every man is a picked fighter and seaman; every craft a
thing of beauty and of strength. There are the dark, cruel rocks, and
the crimson blood of the vanquished, the sound of the waterfalls coming
down from the cliffs, the fluttering of pennants, the hammering of the
shipwrights’ men ashore, the cries of the women-folk as they behold the
distant battles. There is nothing subtle in the picture; the colours
are laid thickly, and the tones are crude as a modern poster. But there
is bravery and seamanship, and above all the sweet sea smell which
pervades these accounts and stirs the enthusiasm of the reader to its
full extent. You feel as you read them that ships and men both seem to
have been of the right stuff, that in those days there was a grandeur
about the sea which not easily can be forgotten.
The Scandinavians to this day remain, perhaps, the hardiest race of
sailors to be found anywhere. They have penetrated to the neighbourhood
of both poles, and they put to sea in such leaky, ill-found merchant
ships year after year, that it makes you nervous to think of them
battling against a breeze of wind in craft which have been condemned
by most other nationalities. Even in the Viking days they were great
seamen, without fear, unfaltering. But, like the South Europeans, they
used to leave the sea alone during the winter, hauling their ships by
rollers up the beach in the autumn, and then make them snug in their
shed till the spring tempted them again to fit out. But Harald Hairfair
is recorded as having set the example of remaining all winter afloat in
his warships, a proceeding which was quite contrary to the prevailing
custom.
But there were other times when it was fortunate that this type of
ship could be moved about so easily. For example, when King Harald had
learnt that King Svein “was come before the mouth of the firth with a
great host of ships,” the former rowed his vessels in the evening to a
narrow slip, and when it became dark he had the vessels unloaded and
dragged them over the low land-neck before daybreak, and had “arrayed”
the ships again, so that he was able to sail away to the nor’ard
past Jutland, and thus escape out of the Danes’ hands. And there are
occasions on record when the Vikings dragged their ships for two miles
over ice. They loved their ships, these men of the biting north, and
even in the time of personal peril dreaded that their craft should
fall into the hands of the enemy. When Sigurd was being pursued by
King Ingi he was careful to scuttle his ship before abandoning her. He
“hewed off stem and stern of his ship, and sheared rifts therein and
sank it in the innermost Ægis-firth.” So, too, they would treat an
enemy’s ship. Thus Erling Askew “fared away from the land,” “arrayed
them for a Jerusalem-faring and fared west over sea to Orkney,”
and so to the Mediterranean, where they lighted upon a dromon and
attacked her by cutting rifts in her side below, as well as above, the
water-mark--“hewed windows” in her, as the old Saga realistically has
it.
They were masters of cunning, too. Harek of Thiotta was coming along
one evening with his fleet “with the wind blowing a breeze. Then he let
strike sail and mast, and take down the vane, and wrap all the ship
above the water in grey hangings, and let men row on a few benches fore
and aft, but let most of the men sit low in the ship.” This somewhat
puzzled King Knut’s men, who wondered what ship it could be, for they
saw only few men and little rowing. Moreover, she seemed to be grey and
untarred, “like a ship bleached by the sun, and withal they saw that
the ship was much low in the water. But when Harek came forth into the
sound past the host, he let raise the mast and hoist sail, and let set
up gilded vanes, and the sail was white as snowdrift, and done with red
and blue bands.”
And here is another instance where the ships kept afloat during the
winter. The passage is interesting as showing that they shortened sail
by taking in a reef: “On Thomas-mass [December 21], before Yule, the
King put out of the haven, there being a right good fair wind somewhat
sharp. So then they sailed north coasting Jadar; the weather was wet,
and some fog driving about.” But Erling Skialgson sailed after him, and
because his long-ships went faster than the others, “he let reef the
sail and waited for his host.” But Olaf’s ships “were very water-logged
and soaked.” “He let call from ship to ship that men should lower the
sails and somewhat slowly, and take one reef out of them.” They slacked
away the halyards, then tucked in a reef, and then doubtless sweated up
the yard again.
In reading these Sagas, it is necessary to understand the different
species of craft which the Norsemen employed. Firstly, there were the
warships or dragons. Secondly, there were the long serpent or snake
class, which also were men-of-war. Thirdly, there were ships of burden,
ocean-going merchantmen, fishing boats, and small fry. The long-ship,
which was a man-of-war, was not suitable for freight-carrying on
those trading voyages to Ireland and elsewhere. But the kaupskip,
broad of beam and with ample freeboard, was built for service on the
island-sheltered waters of Norway and the Baltic. So also the knörr,
which was used for both ocean trading and overseas warfare, was wont
to sail as far away as to the Orkneys. Such a type was so big that
she could carry 150 men. It should be borne in mind that this was
essentially a sailing ship, while the long-ship was more for rowing.
The smallest of the long-ships were of twenty-five benches, i.e. for
a crew of fifty oarsmen; in other words, about the same as a Roman
penteconter. Some, however, were fitted with only twenty benches for
forty oars. The skuta type of warship rowed from fifteen to twenty oars
aside, but the snekkja, or long serpent class, carried from twenty
to thirty aside, and the skeid from thirty to thirty-five aside.
The word “skeid” signifies originally that it was a craft built of
split wood, or strake-built. This expression was used doubtless in
contradistinction to the craft which were merely hollowed out from the
tree. Sigurd, after scuttling his ships, caused Finns to build him two
cutters sinew-bound, which had no nails therein but had withies for
knees. These craft could each row a dozen men a side. They were so
fast that no ship could overtake them. The dragon type was so called
from the dragon’s head at the stem-head, and the animal’s tail which
ended the ship as the lotus-bud was wont on the ancient Egyptian craft.
The earliest mention of the dragon type dates from A.D. 868.
There was a craft named the _Crane_, which was a long-ship of the
snekkja type. She was high in the stem, not beamy, carried thirty
benches for her rowers, and had been constructed for the use of King
Olaf Tryggvison during the autumn of 998. But the ship which became
a prototype and was the envy of all that beheld her, was a vessel
presently to be named the _Long Worm_. Let me tell the story thus: One
winter King Olaf gave the order for her to be constructed, and there,
under the Ladir cliffs in the cold, bracing air, the shipmen set to
work. “Much greater it was than other ships,” records the Saga, “that
were then in the land, and yet are the slips whereon it was built left
there for a token[19]; seventy-and-four ells of grass-lying keel was
it.[20] Thorberg Shavehewer was the master-smith of that ship, but
there were many others at work: some to join, some to chip, some to
smite rivets, some to fit timbers.... Long was that ship, and broad of
beam, high of bulwark, and great in the scantling. But now when they
were gotten to the freeboard Thorberg had some needful errand that took
him home to his house, and he tarried there very long, and when he came
back the bulwark was all done. Now the king went in the eventide, and
Thorberg with him to look on the ship, and see how the ship showed, and
every man said that never yet had they seen a long-ship so great or so
goodly: and so the king went back to the town.”
But early next morning, when the king and Thorberg returned to the
ship, and the smiths were already there, the latter stood doing
nothing. They exclaimed that the ship was spoilt, for some man had
evidently gone round from stem to stern cutting notches with an axe
along the gunwale. The king was exceedingly angry, and promised
punishment if the offender should be found out. Thereupon, to the
surprise of all, Thorberg instantly owned up as being himself the
culprit, and he set about planing all the notches out of the gunwale.
He went round the side which had been notched with his pattern, but
when he had done so, it was generally agreed that the notching, far
from being a disfigurement, was in fact an ornament. The king decided
that Thorberg’s pattern was an improvement, so his anger ceased, and he
bade him to do the same ornamentation along the other side.
This dragon-ship, built after the manner of the _Worm_ which the king
had got from Halogaland, was a far more excellent and larger ship than
the model; so he named one the _Long Worm_ and the other the _Short
Worm_. On this great vessel were thirty-four benches for the oarsmen.
She was most beautifully finished off with all the affectionate care
and pride which only a Viking could bestow on a ship. Done all over
with gold, with bulwarks as high as on a ship built for sailing the
“main sea,” this _Long Worm_ was the marvel of her age. “The best
wrought and the most costly was that ship of any that have been in
Norway.” Wolf the Red was the man who had the honoured post of bearing
King Olaf’s banner in the prow of that ship. Around this valiant
standard-bearer were four men to fight for that flag. And the crew
were as notable as their ship. As she excelled all other craft, so
they excelled all other men. They were picked men, every one of them,
reputed to be famous for “godliness and might and stout heart.” With
their gleaming shields and fine stature they took up their allotted
positions. Looking down the ship from bow to stern, there were the
standard-bearer and his company in the prow. Then abaft of them were
a dozen forecastle men ready to resist any enemy who thought he might
board the Norse ship at that critical part. Next came the thirty
forehold men, astern of whom were another company in the mainhold.
“Eight men there to a half-berth in the _Worm_, all chosen man by man.”
At the poop was the commander, and immediately below him was the ship’s
arsenal, where the arms were kept ready for immediate service.
But the coming of the _Long Worm_ was not to be taken lightly. There
was some other whom she had moved to jealousy. “King Harald sat that
winter in Nidoyce,” says the Saga. “He let build a ship that winter out
at Eres that was a buss-ship. This craft was fashioned after the waxing
of the _Long Worm_, and done most heedfully in all wise. There was a
drake-head forward, and a crooked tail aft, and the bows of her were
all adorned with gold. It was of thirty-five benches, and big thereto,
and the bravest of keels it was. All the outfit of the ship the king
let be made at the heedfullest, both sails and running-tackle, anchors,
and cables.”
[Illustration: ANCHOR OF OSEBERG VIKING SHIP.
PRIMITIVE BLOCKS AND TACKLE EMPLOYED ON VIKING SHIPS.
ROWLOCK ON A VIKING SHIP.
A leather thong was passed through the hole to keep the oar from
unshipping.
FASTENINGS OF A VIKING SHIP.]
And there were others whose ships were a source of wonder and of
admiration. King Knut “himself had that dragon, which was so mickle
that it told up sixty benches, and on it were heads gold-bedight. Earl
Hakon had another dragon that had a tale of forty benches. Thereon
also were gilt heads; but the sails of both were banded of blues and
red and green. These ships were all stained above the water-line.”
Very keen were these North-men in using the sea as well for pleasure
as for service. “Now on a fair day of spring tide was Harek at home,
and few men with him at the stead, and the time hung heavy on his
hands. So Sigurd spake to him, saying that if he will, they will go
a-rowing somewhither for their disport. That liked Harek well: so they
go down to the strand, and launch a six-oarer, and Sigurd took from
the boathouse sail and gear that went with the craft; for such-wise
oft they fared to take the sail with them when they rowed for their
disport. Then Harek went aboard the boat and shipped the rudder.... Now
before they went aboard the craft they cast into her a butter-keg and
bread basket, and bare between them a beer-cask down to the boat. Then
they rowed away from land; but when they were come a little way from
the isle, then the brethren hoisted sail and Harek steered, and they
speedily made way from the isle.”
Both ships and gear were frequently stored in sheds. There is an
account of a man who “went down to the water and took the ship of
burden which he owned, and King Olaf had given him, and ran out
the craft; but all the gear appertaining to it was there in the
ship-house.” And again, one of the North-men remarks: “The ship of
burden which I have had this while, and here stands in her shed,
methinks it is now become so ancient that she rots under her tar.” They
hauled these great ships ashore to the sheds by means of rollers:
“... heard how the boardlong
Dane-ships o’er the well-worn rollers
In the south were run out seaward ...”
so sings one of the Sagas. “After Easter,” runs another of these
narratives, “the king let run out his ships, and bear thereto rigging
and oars. He let deck the ships, and tilt them and bedight them: he let
ships float thus arrayed by the gangways.” For it was the fitting-out
season, you will realise. The word _tilt_ signifies tent. “He let deck”
does not mean quite what it would convey to modern minds; all that it
indicates is that he replaced the floor-boards, which had been removed
at the end of the previous season so that the air could get down below
to the ship. Nor does gangway convey the exact definition. It means
nothing more than the pier or jetty alongside which the ships were
moored after fitting out.
The naval tactics of these men consisted in laying their craft
alongside the enemy, boarding him, and then slashing away at the latter
and hewing off the figurehead or the tail of his ship as trophies. As
they approached, they threw grappling anchors into the other vessel,
just as they were wont to fight in the Mediterranean. Thus there is a
reference to the incident when “the forecastle men of the _Long Worm_
and the _Short Worm_ and the _Crane_ cast anchors and grapplings on
to the ships of King Svein.” And this method survived in Northern
Europe right through the Middle Ages. When they boarded a ship they
did their best to “clear” the ship by cutting down the defenders, or
driving them overboard or else into other ships. That was their main
objective--to get the ship to themselves. “Now in those days,” says one
of the Sagas, “the wont was when men fought a-shipboard, to bind the
ships together and fight from the forecastle.” “Now the most defence on
the _Worm_, and the most murderous to men was of those of the forehold
and the forecastle, for in either place was the most chosen folk and
the bulwark highest.” And again--“Erling Askew set upon the ship of
King Hakon, and shoved his prow in betwixt it and Sigurd’s ship, and
then befell the battle. But the ship of Gregory was swept aground, and
heeled over much, so at first they gat them not into the onset.”
[Illustration: VIKINGS BOARDING AN ENEMY.]
The flagship of King Olaf at the battle of Nesiar, in the year
1016, had on the stem a carved head of the king which he himself had
fashioned. “That head was long sithence in Norway used on ships which
chieftains steered.” At this battle the king had a crew of a hundred in
his ship, and most of them carried white shields “with the holy cross
laid thereon in gold, while some were drawn with red stone or blue;
a cross withal he had let draw in white on the brow of all helms. He
had a white banner, and that was a worm. Thereafter he let blow the
war-blast, and they set off out of the harbour, rowing in search of the
earl.” ... “The king’s men caught the beaks of the [enemy’s] ships with
grapnels, and thus held them fast. Then the earl cried out that the
forecastlemen should hew off the beaks, and even so they did.”
Ten years later this same Olaf was the owner of a vessel named the
_Bison_, which was “the greatest of all ships,” “which he had let make
the winter before.” On her prow “was a bison-head dight in gold.” Aft
there was a tail, and the head, the tail, and both beaks were all laid
with gold. She was a big craft, for she rowed more than sixty men.
Arrows and swords were the weapons with which the Norsemen fought, and
the chests or lockers were kept well filled for the fray. “King Olaf
Tryggvison stood on the poop of the _Worm_, and shot full oft that
day, whiles with the bow and whiles with javelins, and ever twain at
once.... Then went the king down into the forehold, and unlocked the
chest of the high-seat; and took thence many sharp swords and gave
them to his men.” For the poop consisted of a section of the ship with
a floor above the ordinary deck, and commanded a view over the whole
of the ship. Valiant were the fights often enough, but there were
occasions when the contest was so unequal that there was no alternative
but to flee. They would then throw overboard rafts with clothes and
precious articles heaped on the top in hopes that, by attracting the
cupidity of their pursuers, they themselves would succeed in getting
away scot-free.
The capture of the ship _Worm_--this was the _Little Worm_, and not her
bigger sister--happened on this wise: King Olaf stood to the northward
sailing with the land abroad. Wherever he went ashore he christened
the unbaptised. The time came when he turned his ships to the
southward, but it came to pass that then he was harassed by “a driving
storm with brine spray down the firth.” Finally, he spoke to Bishop
Sigurd, and asked him if he knew of any remedy. The bishop answered
that he would do what he could, provided God would strengthen his hands
to overcome the might of these weather fiends. The picture which the
Saga suggests is one that I believe has never yet been attempted by
any artist, but there is a fine subject for anyone who could depict
the northern blue mists, the high rocks, the sea, the great assembly
of Viking ships and men, the bright colours contrasted with the sombre
hues of atmosphere, the bishop in his vestments surrounded by these
stalwart storm warriors. “So took Bishop Sigurd all his mass-array
and went forth on to the prow of the king’s ship, and let kindle the
candles, and bore incense. Then he set up the rood in the prow of the
ship, and read out the gospel and many prayers, and sprinkled holy
water over all the ship. Then he bade unship the tilt and row in up
the firth.” Thereupon all the other ships followed the lead, and lo,
as soon as the men in the _Crane_ began to row, the crew felt no wind
whatever. The driving storm was gone. In that sudden calm the fleet
rowed quietly the one ship astern of the other, and so they arrived at
God Isles. There they came upon Raud the Unchristened, and he was put
to death with little enough mercy. His dragon-ship was captured, and
Olaf called her the _Worm_--the _Little Worm_--“because when the sail
was aloft then should that be as the wings of the dragon. The fairest
of all Norway was that ship.”
The Viking ships had no use for head winds. “But when they sought
east into the Wick,” runs the narrative elsewhere, “they got foul
winds and big, and lay-to in havens wide about, both in the out-isles
and in up the firths.” Dr. Eirikr Magnusson[21] believes that the
Halogalanders were in the art of navigation far ahead of the more
southerly Norwegians about the year A.D. 1000; and interprets the
following to indicate this much. For myself, I have a vague suspicion
that it may signify not so much navigation as seamanship, and that it
means that Raud understood the art of beating to windward. No doubt
these squaresail craft would not haul any nearer to the wind than seven
points, but these ships were in no great hurry to make quick passages.
They could go about on the other tack and so have--to quote the Saga’s
expression--the wind “at will.” This is the statement under discussion:
“Raud rowed out to sea with his dragon, and so let hoist sail; for ever
had he wind at will whithersoever he would sail, which thing came from
his wizardry.” It seems to me that this is exactly explained by beating
to windward when the breeze headed them.
The squaresail was hoisted by the halyard, and the yard was kept to the
mast by means of parrals (_rakki_). The sail when hoisted was said to
be “topped,” while its straining at the halyard was poetically alluded
to as “wrangling with the tackle.” “Topped sails with tackle wrangled,”
is a sentence found among the Heimskringla. There is more than one
illuminating reference to the sails of the Norsemen which can claim our
attention. “But as they hauled up the sail the halliard broke asunder,
and down came the sail athwart the ship, and a long while Thorir and
his must needs tarry there, or ever they got up their sail a second
time.” It is true that the Vikings relied considerably on their oars,
but for long passages it is unquestionable that their large squaresail
was their main means of propulsion. Thus, for example, a fleet might
sail to the fjord under sail-power to meet their enemies, but the sail
would be lowered before the fight. The oar was kept in position against
the thole-pin, and prevented from slipping along the gunwale by means
of a strap, and the sixty odd rowers, with their fine physical strength
and healthy endurance, could make these easy-lined craft leap across
the waves with a speed fully equal to that which their coloured sails
could give to them. There is more than one reference, too, to the
different hues of these sails then prevailing in Northern Europe, the
“English king Knut” having blue sails on the yard of each of his ships.
When they voyaged there was nothing of the modern hurry of seafaring
life. They were not compelled to perform a certain passage within
a specified number of days, and they could wait as long as their
commanders wished for a fair wind to spring up. “After that King Sigurd
fared to his ships, and made ready to leave Jerusalem-land. They sailed
north to that island which hight Cyprus, and there King Sigurd dwelt
somewhile and fared sithence to Greekland, and laid-to all his host
off Angelness, and lay there for half a month. And every day was a
fair breeze north along the main; but he willed to bide such a wind as
should be a right side-wind, so that sails might be set end-long of the
ship, for all his sails were set with pall, both fore and aft: for this
reason, that both they who were forward, as well as they who were aft,
would not to look on the unfair sails.” The meaning of this expression
is quite obvious to a seaman. Sigurd clearly wanted to make his voyage
with the wind in such a direction that it was abeam rather than dead
aft. The logical inference from this extract is that his ships sailed
best on a broad reach rather than when running free. And if we may
judge from the lines and dimensions of those Viking ships which have
been unearthed in Scandinavia in such wonderful preservation, it is
quite certain that these long, straight-keeled craft would be very fast
on a wind.
And how were they steered? The rudder was placed on the starboard
side, the round top of it being secured to the gunwale by means of
a loop which one may call the rudder-strap. At a proper distance
down, says Dr. Magnusson, a cone-shaped piece of wood was nailed
to the side of the boat, the top of the cone being plumb with the
outside of the gunwale. Through the rudder, where it took the form
of a broad oar-blade, a hole was made corresponding to one through
the cone-shaped piece of wood which went right through the side of
the boat. A cord drawn through the hole in the rudder and the conic
piece of wood, and made fast within board, gave to the rudder a fixed
position. By loosening the cord the rudder could be lifted at will
and taken inboard. Through the neck of the rudder a square hole was
made, into which fitted the end of the tiller, by means of which the
helmsman moving it towards him starboarded the rudder, and ported it by
performing the exact opposite.
There was a plank at the back of the seat of the helmsman against which
he could steady himself in handling the helm, just as many a steersman
on small craft to-day get support for controlling the tiller in a
seaway. This was known as the “staying board.” Thus “Einar shot at Earl
Eric, and the arrow smote the tiller-head above the head of the earl,
and went in up to the shaft binding. The earl looked thereon, and asked
if they wist who shot; and even therewith came another arrow so nigh
that it flew betwixt the earl’s side and his arm, and so on to the
staying-board of the steersman, and the point stood far beyond.”
We must picture in our minds the Norse steersman sitting with his face
to the starboard side, his hand on the tiller. The _stjornbordi_--or
steering side--was the starboard. The _bakbordi_ was the port side.
Why _bakbordi_? Because it was the board at the back of the helmsman
when he sat looking to starboard or steering side. And so to this
day, although no longer a ship has her rudder at the side, yet the
right-hand side of a ship is always the starboard.
Notwithstanding the curious fact that in certain parts of Europe, at
an extraordinarily early date, chain cables were actually in use, yet
it is quite clear that those of the Viking ships were of rope. These
cables were twisted round the beaks of the ships, the beaks consisting
of pieces of timber placed upright in and about the prow of the ship.
They were similar to the bitts such as you see in a modern lifeboat or
yacht. So, whenever the Viking vessel was at anchor, or she was lashed
alongside her enemy in pitched battle, the cable of the anchor or the
grapnel was made fast to these timbers. In the account of the flight
of Earl Svein, it is recorded that “when the earl saw to how hopeless
a pass things were come, he called upon his forecastle men to cut the
cables and let loose the ships, and even so they did. Then the king’s
men caught the beaks of the ships with grapnels, and thus held them
fast. Then the earl cried out that the forecastlemen should hew off
the beaks, and even so they did.” And again: “Einar Thambarskelfir had
laid his ship on the other board of that of the earl, and his men threw
an anchor into the prow of the earl’s ship, and thus they all drifted
together into the firth; and after that the whole host of the earl took
to flight, and rowed out into the firth.”
Ships might not bring-up where they liked. There was decided precedence
among the Norsemen, as will be observed from the following incident:
“On a summer Earl Hakon had out his fleet, and Thorleif the Sage was
master of a ship therein. Of that company also was Eric, the earl’s
son, who was as then ten or eleven winters old. So, whenever they
brought-to in havens at night-tide, nought seemed good to Eric but to
moor his ship next to the earl’s ship. But when they were come south to
Mere, thither came Skopti, the earl’s brother-in-law, with a long-ship
all manned; but as they rowed up to the fleet, Skopti called out to
Thorleif to clear the haven for him, and shift his berth. Eric answered
speedily, bidding Skopti take another berth. That heard Earl Hakon, how
Eric his son now deemed himself so mighty that he would not give place
to Skopti. So the earl called out straightway, and bade them leave
their berth, saying that somewhat worser lay in store for them else, to
wit, to be beaten. So when Thorleif heard that, he cried out to his men
to slip their cables; and even so was it done. And Skopti lay in the
berth whereas he was wont, next to the earl’s ship to wit.”
There were a number of small row-boats employed by the Vikings, the
size of which did not allow of more than six oarsmen. No doubt these
were employed for going ashore when the big ships lay some distance
from the shore. But often the Viking craft lay alongside piers.
“Gunnstein said that now was the turn of the tide, and it was time to
sail. Therewith they drew in their cables.... In this they fared on
until they came to Geirsver, the first place where, coming from the
north, one may lie at a pier. Thither they came both one day at eve,
and lay in haven there off the pier.” The mention is also made of
gangways for getting on board from the shore.
But sometimes they lay moored stem and stern in much the same fashion
as the ancient Greeks were wont. They let go their bow anchors in deep
water, veered out cable, took a line ashore from the stern, and then,
each ship having done this, the whole fleet were lashed up together
side by side just as to-day you often see a whole fleet of fishermen
tethered in a small harbour. There are several passages in the Sagas
which call attention to the manner in which their ships were moored.
“Forthwith when Karli, and his, got aboard their ship, they swept off
the tilts, and cast off the moorings; then they drew up sail, and the
ship soon sped off into the main.” Or again ... “said they had seen
King Hakon’s host, and all the arrayal thereof; said that they were
lying up by the stakes and had moored their sterns to the stakes; they
have two east-faring keels, and have laid them outermost of all the
ships; on these keels are masthead castles, and castles withal in the
prow of them both.”
This last quotation, belonging to the twelfth century, has reference
to the mode of fighting which was in vogue during the Middle Ages,
when the fighting tops, the castellated structures at both bow and
stern, were such significant features on these long, narrow ships. The
word “keel” is used not, of course, in reference to any particular
portion of the ship’s structure, but to the ship as a whole. The word
is still in active use to-day on the Humber as applied to a species of
craft which, with its large squaresail as its only canvas, bears some
similarity to the old Norse _ceols_ or keels.
[Illustration: VIKING SHIP WITH AWNING UP READY FOR THE NIGHT.]
The crews of these ships slept under those “tilts” or awnings which
were spread across the ship in an inverted V-shape. In harbour the
tilts were spread over the entire vessel. But in less sheltered
anchorages, and when at sea, tilts were rigged over only portions of
the ship to afford sufficient protection to the men. But in all cases
these _tilts_ or _tjalds_ were struck before the ship went into action,
for the obvious reason that it was desirable to have the entire ship
clear for fighting. The food-supplies, both solid and fluid, were
carried in casks, and the mess system is well described in one of the
Sagas entitled “The Story of the Ere-Dwellers.” “In those days,” runs
the narrative, “was it the wont of chapmen to have no cooks, but the
messmates chose by lot amongst themselves who should have the ward of
the mess day by day. Then, too, was it the wont of all the midshipmen
to have their drink in common, and a cask should stand by the mast with
the drink therein, and a locked lid was over it. But some of the drink
was in tuns, and was added to the cask thence as soon as it was drunk
out.”
We know nothing as to whether these Norse ships possessed bilge pumps.
The probability is that they did not, but a bailing butt was certainly
part of their inventory. Evidently there was a well some distance aft,
into which any water shipped was allowed to drain and thence bailed
out, as the reader shall presently see from the following quotation.
The description refers to the time when King Harald manned his new
dragon-galley. “The said dragon he manned with his court-guard and
bareserks,” runs the Saga. “The stem men were the men most tried,
because they had with them the king’s banner; aft from the stem to the
bailing place was the forecastle, and that was manned by the bareserks.
Those only could get court-service with King Harald who were men
peerless both of strength and good heart and all prowess; with such
only was his ship manned.”
Each oarsman had about three and a half feet to work in. There is more
than one reference in these Sagas to the beds and berths on the Viking
ships. “When the ship of Magnus was much ridded, and he was lying in
his berth,” etc. In the ships of war the rowing benches did not stretch
right across the vessel, as this would interfere with the mobility of
the fighting men, who must needs be left free to rush forward or aft as
the case might be during the battle. The oarsmen therefore had each a
bench just roomy enough to sit down and do their work whilst pulling at
the oar. Little enough is told us of the commander, but we know that
in the ship’s inventory was included his mess-table or “meat-board.”
They were strong of body, these Norsemen, like their ships, brave and
valiant fighters, and they were not altogether bereft of wit, as for
instance when, wishing to convey an insult, someone fashioned an anchor
from a piece of cheese, and said that “such would hold the ships of
Norway’s king.” They were adaptable, too, as in such cases when they
readily took their anchors ashore, bound them to long staves, and
employed them for razing an enemy’s wall to the ground. But, most of
all, they were seamen of the very finest type which the world has ever
seen.