SECTION V.

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

Bridge.

The Thames certainly brought many Danes in ancient times to the country

south of Watlinga Stræt; but the large bay on the eastern coast of

England, called the “Wash,” and the rivers Humber, Tees, and Tyne,

attracted still more of them to the eastern and northern districts. The

Wash especially seems to have been one of the landing places most in

favour with them. Whether it were its situation, directly opposite to

Jutland on the one side, and on the other, on a line with the fruitful

midland districts of England; or whether it were rather the rapid

current which sets in there that attracted the ships of the Vikings, is

a point that we must leave undecided. This much, however, is certain,

that the first and richest settlements of the Danes were around this

bay; and from it afterwards extended itself quite up to the frontiers of

Scotland, the so-called “Danelagh;” which was a district so considerable

as to comprise fifteen of the thirty-two counties, or shires, then

existing in England, and amongst them the extensive county of

Northumberland.

South of the Wash, and extending towards the Thames, lay East Anglia

(Norfolk and Suffolk); which, a century after the commencement of the

Vikings’ expeditions, was already in the hands of the Danes. Alfred the

Great was compelled to cede it, together with several adjacent tracts of

country, by formal treaty, to the Danish King Gudrun, or Gorm. It is

certain that it had at that time, like Kent, received many Danish

settlers, particularly from the neighbouring Jutland, and their number

continually increased. Yet in East Anglia they seem to have been

scarcely more in a condition to compete with the Anglo-Saxons, in regard

to population and power, than in Kent. It was only on the coast, and

indeed only on that of Norfolk, that they had any settlements, as the

Scandinavian names of places still preserved there show. These districts

lay too near to the main strength of the Anglo-Saxons. The Saxon

inhabitants did not easily suffer themselves to be expelled, and the

Danish dominion there could not, consequently, become of permanent

importance.

But to the north and west of the Wash the Danes obtained a very

different footing. In the province called Mercia (or the Marches), which

formed the centre of England, and in that of Lindisse (or, in old Norsk,

Lindisey), which extended from the Wash to the Humber, they were not

only in possession of a great number of villages and landed estates,

which they had selected to settle on, but had likewise made themselves

masters of several towns, and particularly the five strong fortresses of

Stamford, Leicester, Derby, Nottingham, and Lincoln. These places, which

as early as Alfred’s reign belonged to the Danes, and which were

distinguished by their size, their commerce, and their wealth, obtained

the name of “The Five Burghs” (Femborgene). They formed, as it were, a

little separate state, and possessed in common their own courts of

judicature, and other peculiar municipal institutions. The hostile and

dangerous neighbourhood of the Saxons naturally compelled them to

coalesce together as much as possible; and for a very long period they

formed the chief support of the Danish power in England. Protected by

them from all attacks from the south, the Scandinavian settlers were

enabled securely to continue establishing themselves in the more

northern districts. To arrest the sudden attacks of the Britons in the

west, the Danes also had, on the north-eastern frontier of Wales, the

city of Chester, whose name (_Anglo-Saxon_, Lægeceaster, from the Latin

castra, a camp) shows that it had been a fortified place still earlier,

under the Romans.

Chester formed one of the principal entrances from Wales into the

midland parts of England, as well as into what was then called

Northumberland: under which name was comprised, at least by the Danes

and Norwegians, all the country to the north of the rivers Mersey and

Humber, from sea to sea, and up to the Scottish frontier. Covered by the

“Five Burghs,” it was here that the greater part of Danish England lay.

It was a country filled, particularly in the north-west, with mountains,

and intersected by numerous rivers. Near these, valleys opened

themselves in every direction, of which the largest and most

considerable lay around the tributary streams of the Humber, in what is

now Yorkshire. A separate kingdom had existed here from the oldest

times; and here the Danes, like the Britons, the Romans, and the

Anglo-Saxons before them, possessed the most important city in the north

of England. Built on the river Ouse, which falls into the Humber, it

carried on an extensive trade; and, as the principal seat of the

Northumbrian kings and chiefs, was doubly important. The Britons called

it “Caer Eabhroig,” or “Eabhruc,” the Romans “Eboracum,” the

Anglo-Saxons “Eoforwic,” and the Danes “Jorvik;” whence it is plain that

the form “York,” now in use, is derived.

The Humber and York were for the north of England much what the Thames

and London were for the south. It is not therefore surprising that York

came to possess within its walls the largest and most splendid cathedral

in England, which still towers aloft, a proud and awe-inspiring monument

of the power and religious enthusiasm of the middle ages; nor that the

history of York comprises, so to speak, the whole of that of

Northumberland.

The soil of south England received the dust of the Christian Danish

kings, and of Canute the Great, the hero of Christendom. But the north

of England held the bones of many a mighty Danish chieftain, who had

never renounced his belief in the ancient gods; and, in the

neighbourhood of York, one of the most renowned of heathen heroes, King

Regner Lodbrog, met his death. The names of Regner and his sons were

reverenced and feared in England from their earlier Viking expeditions.

When about to invade England, he suffered shipwreck, and together with

only a few of his men saved himself on the coast of Northumberland. The

Saxon king, Ella, advanced against him from York; a battle ensued, and,

after the bravest resistance, Regner was overcome and made a prisoner.

With true northern pride he would not make himself known to Ella, who

caused him to be thrown into a pen filled with snakes; and it was not

till the dying Regner had sung his swan’s-song, “Grynte vilde Grisene,

kjendte de Galtens Skjebne” (How the young pigs would grunt if they knew

the old boar’s fate), that Ella too late observed to his terror that he

had exposed himself to the fearful vengeance of the king’s sons; who,

guided by the shrewd Ivar Beenlöse, had long been silently preparing for

the conquest of Ella’s kingdom. Ella was vanquished and made prisoner;

and, according to the Norwegian legend, Regner’s sons, to avenge their

father’s miserable death, caused a blood-eagle to be carved on Ella’s

back. The place of Ella’s death is said by some to have been near the

town of “Ellescroft,” or Ella’s Grave. The English accounts make

Regner’s sons, Ingvar and Ubbe, revenge their father’s death in the year

870, by murdering in a most horrible manner King Edmund (who was

afterwards canonized) at the castle of Æglesdon, in East Anglia. They

shot at him as at a mark, then cut off his head, and lastly laid the

body among thorns, in the same forest where their father had been put to

death.

Ivar Beenlöse (the Boneless) succeeded to the kingdom of Northumberland

after Ella; where also such names of subsequent kings as Sigtryg,

Regnald, Godfred, Anlaf (Olaf), and Heric (Erik), unmistakably show

their Scandinavian origin. In Olaf’s time, at the beginning of the tenth

century, the Anglo-Saxon king Athelstane (Adelsteen) succeeded in

subjecting Northumberland, whilst Denmark and Norway, as before

mentioned, were prevented by internal distractions from sending any

effectual assistance to the Danes in England. Olaf fled to Ireland, and

Godfred to Scotland, to assemble the Scandinavian warriors in those

parts, and Athelstane in the mean time destroyed the Danish castle in

York. It is related that Olaf returned with more than six hundred ships,

and again took possession of York. He had with him a great number of

Northmen and Danes from Ireland and Scotland, together with a great many

Celtic Cymri and Britons, and the Scottish King Constantine was also in

his army. Athelstane and this brother Edmund arrayed a mighty force

against them at Brunanborg (Bromford?), where, in the year 937, a battle

was fought; which, though unfavourable to the Danes, afforded the old

northern bards matter for enthusiastic song, of which the Sagas have

still preserved some remains. Subsequently a treaty with King Edmund, in

941, gave Olaf the dominion over the country east and north of

Watlinga-Stræt; but the dispute soon broke out afresh. After the death

of the Northumbrian King Erik in 951, Northumberland ceased to be a

kingdom. From this time it became an earldom (Jarledömme), which was,

however, for the most part, almost entirely independent of the

Anglo-Saxon kings, and governed by Norwegian chieftains. For a long time

it constantly received fresh inhabitants from the mother countries,

Denmark and Norway. Many Norwegians came over; nay, even the King Erik

just mentioned may possibly have been the renowned Norwegian King Erik

Blodöxe, a son of Harald Haarfager, the first absolute sovereign of

Norway. After the death of Harald, Erik became chief sovereign in

Norway; but he and his queen, the notorious Gunhilde, ruled here with so

much cruelty, that the Norwegians gave Erik the surname of Blodöxe

(Blood-axe). Driven from his kingdom, he at length repaired to

Northumberland, where King Athelstane is said to have made him a

tributary king, and where, after many vicissitudes of fortune, he met

his death.

Between the Northumbrian Jarledömme—whence the dignity of the Northern

“Jarls” began to extend itself to the rest of England, which has still

preserved it in the title of “Earl”—as well as between the Danish part

of England and the proper kingdom of the Anglo-Saxons in general,

disputes must naturally have prevailed of a more or less sanguinary

kind. As a necessary consequence of this, the Danish kings, in their

later expeditions against the Anglo-Saxons for the purpose of conquest,

resorted to, and sought support in, the Danish part of the north of

England, in the districts near the Humber. In the year 1013, King Svend

Tveskjæg anchored in this river with a powerful fleet, when he came over

to conquer England. In conjunction with his son Canute, who afterwards

completed the conquest, he had previously lain at anchor at Sandvik

(Sandwich), in Kent. From the Humber he anchored in the river Trent, at

Gegnesburgh (or Gainsborough), in Lincolnshire; whence he harried the

whole of eastern, and part of southern England. The Old Danish land to

the north of Watlinga-Stræt was the first to pay him homage; the rest of

England soon yielded to him, and King Ethelred was obliged to fly to

Normandy. But just as Svend, in the midst of his victorious career, had

returned to Gainsborough—just as he was fleecing and levying

contributions both on laity and clergy—he suddenly fell from his horse

at an assize, or _Thing_, in a fit of illness, and died the following

night, the 3rd of February, 1014. Monkish chronicles relate that it was

St. Edmund who killed him. Ethelred, who now returned to England, in

vain ordered a strict search to be made for the body of Svend, with the

view of wreaking a cowardly vengeance on the impotent corpse of the man

who, when alive, had been so terrible an antagonist to him. But the body

had been secretly conveyed to York, where it was kept concealed during

the winter (but scarcely in the cathedral, although that church had been

founded long before, and was, perhaps, even considerably enlarged by the

Norwegian princes who resided at York). Towards the spring it was

brought over to Denmark by some Englishwomen, who were probably of

Scandinavian extraction, and placed in the cathedral of Roeskilde, in

one of the pillars in the grand choir.

Under the Danish rule, the Danish-Norwegian population in the north of

England increased considerably, both in strength and numbers; although

Christianity, by the wise arrangements of Canute, and particularly by

his severe laws against heathenism, was almost completely disseminated

there. Even after the Danish dominion had come to an end by the death of

Hardicanute in 1042, and the Anglo-Saxon kings had again taken the helm,

the old warlike spirit of the north continued, in spite of Christianity,

to stir in the Northumbrian people. The successors of the Vikings still

preferred, to a natural death, a glorious one on the field of battle;

but Christian tenets no longer permitted them to be marked, when on the

bed of sickness, with the point of a spear, in order to consecrate

themselves to Odin, according to the heathen custom. The mighty Danish

jarl Sivard (Sigeward or Siwerd) reigned over them at that time, who had

fought in many battles both in England and Scotland, whereby his name

became immortalized in Shakspeare’s “Macbeth.” When the news was brought

to him that his son had fallen in battle, he inquired whether he had

received his death wound in front or behind. Being answered,

“Before;”—“In that case,” he exclaimed, “I have reason to rejoice, for

no other death was befitting my son, or me.” When Siward himself

afterwards lay on his death-bed, and felt the approach of dissolution,

an old chronicler (Henry of Huntingdon) represents him as breaking out

into sorrowful complaints, and exclaiming, “How shameful it is for me,

that I have never been able to meet death in my numerous battles, but

have been reserved to die with disgrace like an old cow. Clothe me at

least in my impenetrable armour, gird me with my sword, cover my head

with my helmet, place my shield in my left, and my gilded axe in my

right hand, that I, the bold warrior, may also die like one.” Attired in

full armour, he passed gladly to his fathers in the year 1055, and

doubtless with the secret hope of enjoying in Valhalla a continuation of

that proud martial life for which there would soon have been no longer

room either in Northumberland or in the parent lands of Scandinavia.

Shortly after the death of Siward, the country near York also became the

theatre where one of the last celebrated Vikings of the north fell.

Harald Haardraade was indeed a Christian, and a king in Norway; but with

him, as with many of his cotemporaries, Christianity dwelt only on his

lips. In his heart he was still the bold Viking, who valued Hildur’s

bloody game more than holy psalms, and who preferred conquest on foreign

shores to the peaceful government of an hereditary kingdom. Whilst still

young he had distinguished himself in expeditions in the East, and in

the Greek Empire. It seemed to him disgraceful that those lands,

particularly in the north of England, which had once belonged to his

forefathers, should for ever be wrested from Norway. He therefore agreed

to assist Toste Godvinsön against his brother, the English King Harald

Godvinsön; but on the condition that he himself, if he succeeded in

conquering Harald, should have the dominion of England, whilst Toste was

to have the half of it as jarl, or earl. They landed in the Humber; but

in the battle which shortly afterwards took place (in 1066) at Stamford

Bridge, a little to the east of York, both Toste and Harald fell. Thus

the latter gained no more of England’s soil than the English King Harald

had offered him before the battle, namely, “seven feet of earth, or as

much as he was taller than other men.”

This was one of the last serious attempts on the part of Denmark or

Norway to reconquer England; and in the same year the Normans, after the

battle of Hastings, in which King Harald fell, seized the kingdom which

their Danish kinsmen had formerly possessed. William the Conqueror went

in person against the Northumbrians; but before he disembarked he is

said to have broken up the tumulus on the coast (by the Humber?) in

which, according to the legend, Regner Lodbrog’s son, Ivar Beenlöse, had

ordered himself to be buried, in order to avert the attacks of

foreigners. William had to combat long before he could reduce

Northumberland; but, as we shall afterwards see, he never succeeded in

subduing that spirit of freedom and independence which the Danes and

Norwegians had planted there.

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An Account of the Danes and Norwegians in England, Scotland, and Ireland · 第 5 / 17 章