which are not at all uncommon in the Orkneys and Shetland Isles. They
are, however, of much lower elevation than those previously mentioned,
and in general rise very little above the surface of the soil. In some
of these, as in Shetland, besides urns, containing burnt bones and
ashes, bodies have at times been found that have been buried without
being burnt; together with swords of the Scandinavian kind before
described, heads of lances, daggers, and knives; as well as bone combs,
bowl-formed brooches of brass, and various other ornaments, evidently of
Norwegian workmanship.
Just as the barrows, or grave hills, in Mainland, indicate by their
peculiar size that in the heathen times the island was the chosen place
of assembly for the mightiest men in the Orkneys and Shetland Isles, so
also do the monuments of the early middle ages show that it continued to
maintain its former pre-eminence after heathenism had ceased. Farthest
towards the north-west, in the parish of Birsay, (Birgisherað), are to
be seen considerable remains of the old castle, inhabited in the most
ancient times by the jarls. Near the coast lies the Island of Brough
(Burgh) of Birsay, on which also are seen traces of fortifications that
have served to protect the jarls’ castle on the side of the sea. In the
neighbourhood of this castle, Jarl Thorfin built a church, called Christ
Church, in which both he and Jarl Magnus were buried. The latter,
however, being afterwards canonized, his body was taken to Kirkwall. In
the twelfth century, Bishop Wilhelm, the first bishop of the Orkneys,
had his throne in this church. In Orphir (“Orfjara”), on the south coast
of the island, was another castle where the jarls usually dwelt, until,
together with the bishops, they fixed their abode at Kirkwall.
This town, which lies close to an excellent harbour, and opposite the
Island of Shapinsay, has for about seven hundred years been the capital
of the Orkneys and the Shetland Isles. It seems, however, to have
existed even earlier, as a village, or small trading place. Its name,
“Kirkjuvágr” (“Kirkevaag,” _Eng._ Church-bay), since corrupted into
Kirkwall, was derived from a church which stood there. The elevation of
the town to be the residence of jarls and bishops took place in the
twelfth century, after Jarl Ragnhild had built a large cathedral there,
to which he caused to be conveyed the body of St. Magnus, the patron
saint of the island, to whom the cathedral was consecrated. Thus the
body of the saint effected for the town what its excellent harbour had
not been able to accomplish. In the parish of St. Ola’, within the town,
there was formerly also a church consecrated to St. Olaf, the patron
saint of Norway, but it has long since been demolished.
The traveller cannot but dwell, when in Kirkwall, on the remembrance of
the departed splendour of the island, as he views the proud ruins of the
jarls’ castle, which, however, in its last form was not built till the
fifteenth century, and of the bishops’ castle, in which King Hakon
Hakonsön of Norway died on the 16th of December, 1263. But what is still
more striking to him who has leisure to examine it thoroughly, is the
magnificent Church of St. Magnus, incontestably the most glorious
monument of the time of the Norwegian dominion to be found in Scotland.
Only one other cathedral church in all Scotland, namely, St. Mungo’s, in
Glasgow, has in its most essential parts escaped perfectly uninjured
from the violent religious commotions produced by the Reformation. The
annexed sketch (partly after a drawing by Billings) will, at least,
better serve to convey an idea of the remarkable appearance of this
cathedral than any detailed description. Its length is 230 feet, its
breadth 55 feet, or, if the transepts be included in the measurement,
101 feet, and its height about 50 feet. The arched vaults of the nave
rest on 28 pillars, of which the four, in particular, that bear the
tower are distinguished by their size and tasteful forms.
According to the Orkneyinga Saga, Jarl Ragnvald, by the advice of his
father Kol, made a vow to St. Magnus that he would build a splendid
church in his honour, if he (Ragnvald) succeeded in gaining the mastery
over the islands. He obtained the dominion of them in the year 1137, and
immediately afterwards began to lay the foundation of St. Magnus’
Church. “At first,” says the Saga, “the work went on so rapidly that
subsequently there was not done near so much in four or five years. Kol
was the person who, in fact, defrayed the expenses of the building, and
determined how everything was to be. But by degrees, as the work
proceeded, the expenses became burthensome to the jarl, whose pecuniary
means were much exhausted. He therefore asked his father what he should
do? Kol advised him to alter the law by which, upon the death of the
owners, the jarls had hitherto succeeded to all the allodial land in the
islands, so that the heirs had to redeem it, which they found very hard.
The jarl, therefore, summoned the inhabitants to a _Thing_, and offered
to sell them their right of Udal, so that they should no longer be
obliged to redeem it. The matter was easily arranged on both sides. The
jarl obtained a mark for every acre throughout the islands, so that
there came in money enough for the building of the church, which is very
handsome.”
[Illustration: [++] St. Magnus’ Church]
History, however, as well as the building itself, teaches us that the
whole church, as it now stands, was by no means the work of Kol and
Ragnvald. For, first, it is known that the pillars farthest towards the
east and west, marked in the annexed ground plan with the faintest
shade, belong to additions made at a far later period (viz., as late as
the sixteenth century); and secondly, it is not even decided whether Kol
and Ragnvald built the whole of the remaining part of the church, the
transepts included, or whether they built only that part of the present
choir which, from the two eastern pillars of the tower, comprises the
six nearest pillars to the east, marked on the ground plan with the
darkest shade. Between this last-named portion of the choir, which is
undoubtedly the oldest part of the church, and the portion lying to the
west, whose pillars on the ground plan have a rather lighter shade,
there is a perceptible difference of style.
That zealous and skilful archæologist, Sir Henry Dryden, Bart., of
Canons Ashby, to whom I am indebted for the original of the following
ground plan, likewise did me the favour to give me, among several large
drawings, a very excellent, but here very reduced, section of that part
of the choir which is certainly known to have been built by Kol and
Ragnvald. The section is taken from the middle of the nave, and
represents a part of the northern side walls nearest to one of the
pillars of the tower. It enables us to form an idea of the very
considerable size of the church, and of the importance of Kol’s and
Ragnvald’s labours, as well as readily to perceive in what style the
church was originally built. This style, which in England is called the
Norman, was indeed already somewhat obsolete in more southern districts
at the time when St. Magnus’ Church was built; but it was quite natural
that, so far northwards, it should be retained somewhat longer,
especially as the architect was a native of the still more northern
country of Norway.
[Illustration: [++] St. Magnus’ Church - Floorplan]
[Illustration: [++] St. Magnus’ Church - Interior]
The next considerable portion of the cathedral which might possibly have
been built by Kol and Ragnvald, or at least about their time, and which
includes the transepts, the two western pillars of the tower, and the
six pillars (three on each side) farther towards the west, has, indeed,
like the very oldest part, round arches. But in these, as well as in the
whole architecture, a much later style is clearly visible. It is, as we
have said, doubtful whether this part of the church is also to be
ascribed to Kol and Ragnvald. “Supposing that it is (says Sir Henry
Dryden, in a letter accompanying the drawings), I explain the difference
of scale and workmanship thus. Ronald began a church on a _much_ smaller
scale than the present St. Magnus. He became short of money, alienated
seignorial rights in Orkney, got plenty of money, and went on with the
church on a larger scale, and with better workmen than before. But (adds
Sir Henry), though I spent eighteen weeks at the building, and have
thought over the thing many times, I cannot make out the history of the
building to my own satisfaction. There is no doubt that there is a great
deal of copying in it; _i. e._, of building at one time in the style of
an earlier one. In Scotland the semicircular arch is used in all styles,
down to the year 1600.” In the additions made to St. Magnus’ Church to
the east and west, in the sixteenth century, round arches are also found
between the chief pillars.
In the winter of 1263-1264 the body of the Norwegian king Hakon Hakonsön
was deposited in the cathedral; and somewhat more than twenty years
afterwards the Norwegian princess Margaret (the maid of Norway),
daughter of King Erik, the priest-hater, and of Margaret, daughter of
the Scotch King, Alexander the Third, was buried in it. Upon the death
of Alexander, her mother’s father, in 1289, Margaret, though only seven
years of age, became queen of Scotland, but died in Orkney on her
passage from Norway, in 1290. The cathedral naturally received the dust
of most of the Norwegian jarls, bishops, and other mighty men, so long
as the Norwegian dynasty lasted; but for their monuments we now seek in
vain. By the alterations and rebuilding in the interior of the church
they have all been long since destroyed.
For a Scandinavian, the church derives its greatest interest not only
from the fact that it was founded, and partly built, by a Norwegian
jarl, but more particularly from the circumstance that a Norwegian
chief, the layman Kol, is expressly stated to have been the person “who
was chiefly answerable for the building, and determined how everything
should be.” For we thus find on the British Islands, and far towards the
North, a manifestation of the same desire to build splendid churches and
convents, which farther southwards, as for instance in Normandy, so
vividly animated the Christian descendants of the emigrant Vikings. The
oldest part of St. Magnus’ Church will, on a close inspection, show not
a few resemblances to several of the nearly contemporary, but somewhat
older, Norman churches in Normandy.
----------
SECTION VIII.
Pentland Firth.—The Highlands.—Caithness.—Sutherland.—Fear
of the Danes.
The Orkneys are separated towards the south from the most northern part
of the Scotch Highlands by a firth about eight miles in breadth, called
Pentland Firth (_Old N._, Petlandfjörðr, the fiord of the land of the
Picts?). The maelstrom, or whirlpool, in this firth, where the currents
from the North Sea and Atlantic Ocean meet, is at least as violent and
dangerous as the “Röst,” so famed in ancient times, between the Orkneys
and Shetland. Even in calm weather the meeting currents raise the waves
to an astonishing height, so that at times the whole firth is one sheet
of white foam. If it happens that the current runs hard against the
wind, or if a severe storm blows, it would not be advisable for any
vessel to venture out into the firth. In the gales of winter,
particularly from the north-west, the sea rises to such a height where
the huge swell of the Atlantic is inclosed between the Orkneys and
Scotland, and beats against the coast with such force, that the foam is
driven far into the country, even over cliffs that stand more than four
hundred feet above the sea! The Island of Stroma (_Old N._,
“Straumsey”), which has obtained its name from the current, lies about
the middle of the firth; and by the eastern entrance of it are the
Islands of Pentlandskerries (_Old N._, “Petlandsker;” or _Danish_,
“Pentlandskjære;” _Eng._, sunken rocks off the Pentland Firth), near
which the waves form whirlpools that are still called by the inhabitants
“Swelchies” (or Svælg: _Old N._, “Svelgr;” _Eng._, gulf).
The old Sagas, indeed, expressly point out the dangers of the Pentland
Firth. Thus, when Olaf Trygvesön came from the West to the Orkneys with
the intention of Christianizing the islands, he was obliged to run into
the harbour of Asmundarvág (now Osmondwall) in the south of Hoy, because
Pentland Firth was not navigable; and on the return of King Hakon
Hakonsön from the Hebrides in 1263, one of his ships was lost in the
Röst, and another escaped only with the greatest difficulty.
Nevertheless the ancient Norwegians and Danes navigated this dangerous
firth regularly, and do not seem to have considered it as forming any
real boundary between the Orkneys and Scotland. At an early period the
Norwegians had settled themselves along the south coast of the Pentland
Firth, and founded colonies there which soon became so preponderatingly
Norwegian that they might almost be regarded as inseparable parts of the
Orkney jarldom. On this account the two most northern counties of
Scotland, both of which united originally bore the Gaelic name of
Catuibh, are still called after the original Norwegian forms,
“Caithness” (_Old N._, “Katanes,” the naze of Catuibh) and “Sutherland”
(_Old N._, Suðrland), or the land in the south; that is, as regards the
Orkneys. It would be perfectly inexplicable, in any other way, why the
north-western part of Scotland should be called the south land, or
Sutherland. It is, moreover, a remarkable proof of the Norwegian origin
of these names, that even the present Gaelic inhabitants do not adopt
them, but always call Sutherland, after the old fashion, “Catuibh.” For
the sake of distinction, however, they call Caithness “Gallaibh,” or the
stranger’s land, because so many Norwegians immigrated to, and settled
in, that county in preference to Sutherland.
The district of Caithness, or, as it was often called in ancient times,
“Næsset,” forms a real naze, shooting out into the sea in a
north-eastern direction. Its farthest point towards the north-east is
called Duncansby Head (formerly “Dungalsnýpa”), from the neighbouring
Duncansby (formerly “Dungalsbœr”). The broadest bay on the north coast
trends in between the promontories of Dunnet Head and Holburn Head; the
latter of which, by protecting Thurso Bay from western and north-western
gales, renders it a tolerably good harbour, in a place where good
harbours are scarce on this northern coast. Supposing, now, that we land
in the Bay of Thurso, by the town of that name, we soon discover the
outlet of the rivulet called Thurso Water (_Old N._, “Þorsá,” or
Thorsaa, Thor’s rivulet), which has given the easily-recognised
Scandinavian name both to the town and bay. The town and its immediate
environs afford a great number of Norwegian memorials. The Norwegian
king Eistein imprisoned the Orkney jarl Harald Maddadsön in Thurso
itself. Close to the eastern side of the town stands a more recent
monument, “Harald’s Tower,” erected over the body of Jarl Harald, who
fell there in a battle in 1190. Not far from thence is the mansion
called Murkle (formerly “Myrkhóll”), where, in the tenth century,
Ragnhilde, the daughter of Erik Blodöxe and of Gunhilde, caused her
husband, Jarl Arnfin, to be murdered. Immediately to the west of the
town, near Scrabster (“Skarabólstaðr”), are to be seen the ruins of the
palace formerly inhabited by the bishops of Caithness and Sutherland. In
the twelfth century Bishop Ion was blinded and mutilated there, at the
instigation of Jarl Harald. Five miles west of Scrabster, and close by a
foaming waterfall, stands the mansion of “Forss,” by the river Forss
Water. The rivulet called Thorsaa runs through a valley in ancient times
called Thorsdal (“Þórsdalr”), adjoining another valley “Kálfadalr,” or
Calf-dale (either the present Calder or Cuildal), in which Jarl Ragnvald
was attacked and killed by Thorbjörn Klærk. In the “Dales of Caithness”
(probably near Dale and Westdale, by Thurso Water) a battle was fought
in the tenth century between Jarls Ljot and Skule, in which the latter
fell.
Similar memorials present themselves everywhere on the promontory, with
the exception, however, of the most western and more mountainous part,
adjoining the frontiers of Sutherland. This district is still inhabited
by a Gaelic population, the remnant of the ancient inhabitants, as is
sufficiently testified both by the Gaelic names of places and the Gaelic
language of the people. In Caithness, as well as everywhere else in the
British Isles, it has been the fate of the Gaels or Celts to be driven
to the poor and mountainous districts, whilst more fortunate strangers
have taken possession of the fertile plains. The whole of the northern
and eastern part of Caithness is a rather flat and open country, over
which the sea wind sweeps freely without being intercepted by woods.
Fertile and well-cultivated arable land is mingled with heaths, marshes,
and small lakes. Wherever the soil is capable of cultivation, both on
the coasts and in the interior, a great number of undoubted Norwegian
names of places are still found scattered about, of the selfsame form as
those in Orkney and the Shetland Isles: as, for instance, those ending
in _toft_ (as Aschantoft, Thurdystoft, formerly “Þorðarþupt”) _seter_
(“setr”), _busta_, _buster_, or _best_ (originally “bolstaðr”); but
particularly in ster (staðr). The bays, which are mostly small and
narrow, are generally called _goe_ (from “gjá,” an opening). The larger
ones are called _wick_ (Viig); whence the town of Wick, the most
important hamlet in Caithness, derives its name; but they are never
called, as in the islands lately mentioned, _wall_ (“Vágr,” or “Vaag”).
Here and there a mighty barrow lifts its head, and sometimes—as, for
instance, near Barrowston, parish of Reay—so extremely near the coast of
Pentland Firth, that the spray washes over it. In general we shall not
be mistaken in imagining that we have found in such barrows the last
resting-places of the daring Vikings, who, not even in death, could
endure to be far separated from the foaming maelstrom.
At times the common people dig up in these mounds pieces of swords and
various kinds of ornaments, especially the peculiar bowl-formed
brooches, of a sort of brass, which are very frequently discovered in
the Scandinavian North, and particularly in the Norwegian and Swedish
graves of the times of the Vikings. These are never found in England;
and in Scotland they are discovered only in the Orkneys and Sutherland,
as well as in some of the Western Islands, where the Norwegians also
settled.
[Illustration: [++] Brooch]
Tall bauta stones are to be seen in several places in Caithness, to
which some legend about “the Danes” is generally attached; they now
stand in a leaning position, as if mourning over the departed times of
the heroic age. A monument of a somewhat later period, according to
tradition that of a Danish princess, who suffered shipwreck on the
coast, was also formerly to be found in a churchyard near Ulbster.
Danish fortifications, consisting partly of square towers, once existed
along the coast, principally near the navigable inlets; but these also
have now, for the most part, disappeared.
With several intervals, Caithness was subject to Norwegian jarls until
some time in the fourteenth century, or for about as long a period as
Orkney and the Shetland Isles. After that time, however, it does not
seem to have been oppressed to such a degree as those islands; which
circumstance, in conjunction with the originally great number of
Norwegian settlements in the country, is the cause that even in the
present day we are not referred only to inanimate memorials of the
ancient Norwegian population. The present living inhabitants bear a
decided and unmistakable impress of their Norwegian descent. The
language in the plains of Caithness, and in the open valleys, is the
same dialect of the English as is spoken in Orkney and the Shetland
Isles, because the transitions from Norwegian to English have been the
same. The people have in some parts, as in the parish of Wick, pure
Scandinavian names: Ronald (Ragnvald), Harold, Swanson (Svendsen),
Manson (Magnuson), and others; and their tall and personable figures, as
well as their light hair and broad faces, render them a striking
contrast to the shorter and more swarthy Highlanders. As the descendants
of an old Gaelic and of an old Norwegian population adjoin one another
in Caithness, we have an excellent opportunity of observing, on a small
scale, how the Norwegians and Danes have actually implanted in the
British Isles a more seafaring spirit and greater nautical skill. Even
to the present day the Gael, in Caithness, as well as throughout the
Highlands, has a decided aversion to the sea, nay, a downright fear of
its dangers. It is pretty well known that in general, and except on the
most urgent necessity, one should not venture out into the Pentland
Firth in boats steered and rowed by Gaels or Highlanders; for, in the
event of a storm, all steady command is speedily lost, and gives place
to anxious irresolution. The descendants of the old Norwegians, on the
contrary, who are familiar with the sea from childhood, and amongst whom
lies Wick, the most important fishing station in Scotland, show
themselves precisely in the hour of danger the worthy sons of their
forefathers, the ancient Vikings. It is only the man at the helm who
speaks, and he gives his orders in a few decisive words. He is
punctually obeyed, and the misfortune is said to be rare, if his
coolness, joined to his knowledge of the sea and its currents, do not
gain the victory over the violence of the storm and the turbulence of
the billows. This seafaring population of Caithness do not, like the
Highlanders, disdain to resort to fishing, in order to bring home the
riches of the sea. As their soil, moreover, is by no means barren, and
as they have naturally greater activity and more inclination to work
than the Highlanders, as well as, through their English dialect, greater
facility in their traffic with the more southern districts, it is not to
be wondered at that the prosperity of Caithness manifests a great and
constant progress. We may even justly assert that the descendants of the
Norwegians in Caithness are in a far more fortunate situation than their
kinsmen in the Orkneys and Shetland Isles.
In ancient times, a Norwegian population speaking its native language,
was undoubtedly spread over the whole eastern coast of Caithness, as
well as over several districts of Sutherland. But the English language,
which in our times has superseded the Norwegian, ceases to be the common
language of Caithness immediately to the south of the parish of Wick. A
line drawn from Clyth Ness, in a north-western direction to the
before-mentioned mansion of Forss to the west of Thurso, will indicate,
as near as may be, the boundary between Gaelic and English. If, however,
we travel southwards from the parish of Wick, through the parish of
Latheron, where the common language is already Gaelic, we, nevertheless,
pass a great many villages and farms bearing Norwegian names; as, for
instance, Lybster and Forse (by a waterfall). The mountains here begin
to be higher, and to stand closer and closer together towards the sea.
At length, after passing the deep valley of Berrydale (_Old N._,
“Berudalr”), and the beautiful wood-crowned banks of its river, we
ascend the steep mountain ridge called “the Ord of Caithness,” which
runs boldly out into the sea, and forms a natural boundary between the
narrow projecting promontory of Caithness and the broader Sutherland.
The first large valley in Sutherland to the south of this mountain ridge
is Helmsdale, which is watered by a river of no mean size. That
Helmsdale is a Norwegian name (in the Sagas “Hjalmundsdalr”) is at once
evident from the present Gaelic inhabitants calling the valley in pure
Gaelic, “Strath Ullie,” or with a strange confusion of language, Strath
Helmsdale; for as Strath signifies in Gaelic a valley or dale, the word
_dale_ is added both at the beginning and end. It is a similar
repetition which we so often hear when the “Orkney Isles” are spoken of,
in the original language “Orknö,” but which, translated as now used, is
Orknö Öerne (or the “Orkney-islands-islands”). Along Helmsdale River
several places are met with whose original Norwegian names are still to
be discerned; as, for instance, Eilderabol, Gilaboll, Dviaboll, and
Leiraboll. All these have the ending _bol_, which is peculiar to a
number of Norwegian names of places in Sutherland and in some of the
Hebrides; but which, in Caithness, the Orkneys, and Shetland Isles, as
well as in Lewis and several of the Hebrides, appears in the longer form
of “bolstaðr.” To the north-west of Helmsdale are the vales of Kildonan,
which run up as far as the Vale of Strathmore in Caithness. Here, it is
supposed, on the frontiers of Caithness and Sutherland, lay
“Eisteinsdalr,” so famed in history as the spot where the Scotch king
William encamped in the year 1198. It is, however, very uncertain
whether “Easterdale” in Strathmore be in any way connected with the name
of Eisteinsdal.
On leaving Helmsdale the coast opens, and fertile and beautiful fields
begin to expand themselves. Past Midgarty and Wester Gartie (the middle
and western Gaard, or farm, from _Old N_. “garðr”?) the road runs along
the shore of the Bay of Dornoch (an arm of the “Breidifjördr,” or broad
firth mentioned in the Sagas, in which the Moray Firth is also included)
to the little village of Brora, which is built on a considerable river,
and where for a long period the only large bridge in Sutherland was to
be found. It was possibly from this circumstance that the Norwegians
gave the village its name (“Brúrá,” the bridge rivulet). A river in
Iceland is also still called Brúrá, from a bridge which crosses it. The
ancient seat of the Earls of Sutherland, Dunrobin (Robin’s tower, from
_dun_, a tower), lies on the seashore, in the neighbourhood of Brora,
surrounded by fine corn-fields and considerable tracts of woodland. The
latter, however, were planted at a recent period. In the background rise
considerable mountains, covered with heath. In this place, so highly
favoured by nature both as regards scenery and fertility, the Norwegian
jarls who ruled over Sutherland undoubtedly had one of their chief
residences; as, for instance, Sigurd Jarl, a brother of Ragnvald
Möre-Jarl, Sigurd the Stout (+ 1014), and his son Thorfin (+ about
1064). Norwegian antiquities, like those discovered in Caithness, are
found in graves near Dunrobin, particularly the well-known bowl-formed
brooches or buckles. In the neighbourhood several places with Norwegian
names can be pointed out; for instance, just south of Dunrobin, in the
fertile valley by the river Fleet, Mickle Torboll and Little Torboll
(from _Thor_ and _bol_); and on the coast, Skelbo, Skibo, and Embo (from
_bol_, or perhaps more correctly from _bœr_, _bö_). Sigurd, the first
conqueror of Sutherland, is said to have extended his dominion as far as
Ekkjalsbakke. As _bakki_ in the ancient language signifies the bank of a
river, there cannot be the least doubt that Ekkjal is the river Oykill,
which still forms the southern boundary of Sutherland. Sigurd himself is
said to have been interred at Ekkjalsbakke. He gained the victory in a
foray over the Scotch jarl Melbrigd, and cut off his head, which, in the
overweening pride of his triumph, he hung to his saddle; but a sharp
tooth that projected from the head chafed his leg, and caused a wound
which proved his death. On different parts of the banks of the Oykill
numerous barrows are seen, indicating the many battles that have been
fought in ancient times on the frontiers of Sutherland. But nobody is
able to point out the barrow of Sigurd Jarl; the tradition relating to
it has vanished with the Norwegian population.
For the rest, names of places prove that the Norwegians had also settled
themselves along the coast to the south of the Oykill. On the narrow
naze called Tarbet Ness, between Dornoch and Cromarty Firths, are the
villages of Arboll and Wanby, as well as the town of Tain, whose Gaelic
name, “Bailed Dhuich” (or St. Duthus’ Town), shows at once that “Tain”
must be of foreign origin. Tain is, moreover, a corruption of “Þing,” a
_Thing_; and in like manner the somewhat considerable town of Dingwall,
at the extremity of Cromarty Firth, was originally called “Þingavöllr,”
or _Thingwalla_; whence the remarkable fact is evident, that the
Norwegians were once sufficiently numerous in these districts to have
both an inferior _Thing_ (Tain) and a superior one (Dingwall). Dingwall,
like Tain, besides its original Norwegian name, has also the Gaelic one
of Inverphaeron. As the Norwegians, therefore, must have permanently
possessed considerable tracts in these districts, it is clear that their
settlements on the east coast of Scotland must have extended quite down
to Inverness-shire and Moray. The before-mentioned stronghold of
Burghead in Moray, which the Northmen maintained to the last extremity,
lies pretty close to the east of Cromarty Firth, the inlet to Dingwall.
As the Norwegian language and other Norwegian characteristics have given
way to the Gaelic tongue, manners, and customs, in the former Norwegian
districts on the north coast of Scotland, from Clyth Ness in Caithness
to Dingwall on the Firth of Cromarty, we can scarcely be surprised that
the north coast of Sutherland, whose rocks and heaths offered much fewer
allurements to the Norwegians than the fertile valleys and plains of the
east coast, and which were therefore far less colonized by them, should
have preserved distinct traces of these foreign conquerors only in a few
names of places. A remarkable instance of the Gaelic language having
expelled the Norwegian is to be found immediately on the borders of
Caithness, in the valley of Halladale. In a river there are two
waterfalls, of which the uppermost is called Forsinard, and the lower
one Forsindin. In both these names the Norwegian “Fors” is not to be
mistaken; but Gaelic terminations have in later times been added by the
Gaels, so that Forsinard now signifies the upper Fors, and Forsindin the
under, or lower, Fors. Halladale is likewise frequently called by the
additional Gaelic name of Strath—“Strath Halladale.”
This much, however, is clear, that the whole of the north and west coast
of Sutherland was once colonized by Norwegians. Besides various names of
places west of Halladale, which likewise end in _dale_, such as
Armadale, Swordale, and Torrisdale, it is surprising that we should
still meet with pure Norwegian names on four of the largest firths of
the north-west of Sutherland; viz., on the north coast the “Kyle of
Tongue” (from “túnga,” a tongue of land, a naze), together with the
adjoining village, Kirkiboll (Kirkebolet); further, Loch Eriboll, with
the large farm of Eriboll (the _bol_ on the Eir, or tongue of land, from
the _Old N._ “eyri”); the Kyle of Durness, or Dyrnæs, with the _bol_, or
dwelling, of Crossboll; and lastly, on the west coast, not far from Cape
Wrath, Loch Laxford (Laxfjorden, or the Salmon Firth; _Old N._,
“Laxafjörðr”). “Loch” is the Gaelic name for a lake or firth, and
consequently, in Loch Laxford, expresses tautologically the existence of
a fiord or firth; just as the name “valley” is twice expressed in Strath
Helmsdale and Strath Halladale. The last three of the above-mentioned
firths seem to have been of much importance to the Norwegians. There is
an excellent harbour in Loch Eriboll, which is still frequented by
numerous ships. The neighbourhood round Loch Durnes afforded excellent
opportunities for hunting the deer, particularly on Durnæs itself, which
extends between Loch Durnes and the Atlantic up to Cape Wrath (_Old N._,
“Hvarf”), and which, still later in the middle ages, was celebrated for
its excellent deer. Loch Laxford, which obtained its name from the
salmon (Lax) in the river and at its mouth, is commonly known to the
present day as one of the rivers in Scotland most abounding with that
fish. Several isolated rocks in the sea by the coast of Sutherland are
called, as in the Shetland Isles, “stacks;” and in several names of
islands we meet with the Scandinavian _sker_ or _skjær_; such as
Skerroar (Skjæröerne, the rock islands); and in Loch Eriboll, Dhusker,
Skerron, and others. A little island near the middle of the west coast
is called Calva (_Old N._, “Kálfey,” or the Calf Island), a name
frequently given by the Northmen to small islands that lay in the
neighbourhood of a larger one (for instance, the Calf of Man). For the
rest, Calva is one of the last decidedly recognisable Scandinavian names
of places on the west coast of Sutherland. The real Norwegian population
evidently ceased at Laxfjord. Norwegian names of places are scarcely to
be found on the coasts of the Highlands to the south of Sutherland. The
country there was so wild, rocky, and remote, that foreign conquerors
could only with the greatest difficulty have maintained a position
against the Highlanders, who were always prepared to make sudden and
dangerous attacks from the mountains in the interior. Aware of this, the
Norwegians seem to have limited themselves, on the western shores of the
Highlands, chiefly to the levying of provisions along the coast, and to
the plundering of cattle and other property. Round about the mouths of
the Highland firths are still to be seen the remains of old castles,
which the Scotch kings, and particularly Alexander the Second, are said
to have built, in order to prevent “the Danes” from making these
devastating descents.
The memory of the conquests and predatory incursions of the Norwegians,
or “Danes,” is still preserved in a remarkable degree among the poorer
classes in Sutherland, as well as in the rest of the Scottish Highlands.
Numberless traditions are in circulation respecting the levying of
provisions by “the Danes;” and barrows, or cairns, are not unfrequently
pointed out, in which a Scandinavian prince, or king’s son, killed by
the natives whilst on some Viking expedition, is said to be buried.
Besides the usual cruelties ascribed to the Danes in the traditions of
the Lowlands, and of England, they are here accused, into the bargain,
of having burnt the forests, and thus caused that want of wood which
acts so injuriously on the climate of the Highlands. In proof of this it
is adduced that roots and trunks of trees, sometimes perceptibly
scorched, are discovered in the turf-bogs of the Highlands. It is not
considered that similar discoveries are very common in other countries,
as, for instance, in Denmark itself; where trunks of trees, especially
firs, have been dug up, precisely as in the Scotch Highlands. They are
the produce of vegetative processes in the pre-historical times; and the
apparent scorching has been produced either by accidental fires, or
more, probably, by the simple mode of felling trees in use among the
aboriginal inhabitants of Europe; who, like certain savage tribes at the
present day, for want of metal tools, were obliged to burn the trunks of
trees which they wished to fell.
By way of amends, the Danes have now and then the honour of being
regarded in the Highlands as having been the teachers of the natives.
One of the first jarls of the Orkneys was, according to the legends,
called by the name of Torf Einar, because he was the first who caused
turf to be dug on a point of land (Torfnæs) in Scotland. This
promontory, probably the present Tarbet Ness, was at all events either
in Caithness or Sutherland; and it is certainly a remarkable
coincidence, that the common people of that district still relate that
“the Danes” taught them to burn turf. We likewise hear at times that
“the Danes” taught the use of hand querns, or hand-mills; nay, even that
the favourite national instrument of the Highlanders, the bagpipes, was
originally introduced by the Danes. In short, if anything, whether good
or bad, be of doubtful origin, it is frequently attributed to “the
Danes.”
But it is peculiar to the north-western and most remote districts of the
Highlands, that the common people still harbour no small degree of dread
lest “the Danes” should return, and repeat their cruel devastations.
About thirty years ago (according to J. Loch, “An Account of the
Improvements on the Estate of the Marquis of Stafford,” London, 1820,
8vo.), English engineers were employed in measuring all the heights in
Sutherland. This caused much sensation among the natives, who thought
that these engineers were sent by the Danes to make maps and plans of
the country, previously to the arrival of the Danish army. They imagined
that the king of Denmark had an old feud with the Mackays, and that he
was now coming to take a sanguinary revenge on the whole clan.
During my stay in Sutherland I had repeated occasion to convince myself
not only that the fear of the Danes has not yet died away there, but
also that tradition has connected with them things with which they had
nothing whatever to do.
Close outside the town of Dornoch, on the east coast of Sutherland,
there stands a stone pillar in an open field, which is simply the
remains of one of those crosses so frequently erected, in Roman Catholic
times, in market-places. As a matter of course, the arms of the jarls of
Sutherland are carved on one side of the stone, and on the other are the
arms of the town—a horse-shoe. Tradition, however, will have it that the
pillar was erected in remembrance of a battle fought on this spot, in
which the Jarl of Sutherland commanded against “the Danes.” In the heat
of the battle, while the Jarl was engaged in personal combat with the
Danish chief, his sword broke; but in this desperate situation he was
lucky enough to lay hold of a horse-shoe that accidentally lay near him,
with which he succeeded in killing his adversary. The horse-shoe is said
to have been adopted in the arms of the town in remembrance of this
feat. In the cathedral church of Dornoch is a carved stone monument of
the middle ages, representing one of the ancient bishops who once
resided in Dornoch. He also is said to have fallen in the same battle,
but my authority, the person who showed me over the church, added:—“I am
proud to tell that the Danes were defeated.”
Having employed myself in examining, among other things, the many
so-called “Danish” or Pictish towers on the west and north-west coast of
Sutherland, the common people were led to believe that the Danes wished
to regain possession of the country, and with that view intended to
rebuild the ruined castles on the coasts. The report spread very
rapidly, and was soon magnified into the news that the Danish fleet was
lying outside the sunken rocks near the shore, and that I was merely
sent beforehand to survey the country round about; nay, that I was
actually the Danish King’s son himself, and had secretly landed. This
report, which preceded me very rapidly, had, among other effects, that
of making the poorer classes avoid, with the greatest care, mentioning
any traditions connected with defeats of the Danes, and especially with
the killing of any Dane in the district, lest they should occasion a
sanguinary vengeance when the Danish army landed. Their fears were
carried so far that my guide was often stopped by the natives, who
earnestly requested him in Gaelic not to lend a helping hand to the
enemies of the country by showing them the way; nor would they let him
go till he distinctly assured them that I was in possession of maps
correctly indicating old castles in the district which he himself had
not previously known. This, of course, did not contribute to allay their
fears; and it is literally true, that in several of the Gaelic villages,
particularly near the firths of Loch Inver and Kyle-Sku, we saw on our
departure old folks wring their hands in despair at the thought of the
terrible misfortunes which the Danes would now bring on their hitherto
peaceful country.
----------
SECTION IX.
The Hebrides.—The Northern Isles: Lewis and Harris; (Næs);
Skye.—Ossian’s Songs.—Iona.
The rocky western coast of the Highlands south of Sutherland was not, as
I before mentioned, permanently inhabited by the Norwegians. They had,
indeed, regular settlements on the west coast, but these were on the
islands. They were here secure from the sudden attacks of the Gaels, or
Highlanders, who, generally speaking, would scarcely have ventured out
on a sea which then swarmed with Vikings. The farther, therefore, the
islands were from the mainland, so much the more secure would the
Norwegian settlers be, and so much the greater, in effect, did their
colonies become. By degrees they settled themselves on all the islands
along the west coast, from Lewis to Man, which they called under one
name, “Suðreyjar,” or the southern islands, from their situation with
regard to the Orkneys and Shetland Isles. Sometimes, however, they did
not reckon Man among them, and then divided the rest of the islands into
two groups, in such a manner, that only the islands to the south of Mull
were called “Suðreyar,” whilst Mull itself, and the islands to the
north, obtained the name of “Norðreyar.” The Irish, and the rest of the
Gaels, on the contrary, after the conquest of the islands by the
Norwegians, called them “Inis Gâl” (the foreigners’ isles).
The most northern and largest of the northern isles was the extensive
one which forms the present Lewis and Harris (the “Ljóðhus” of the
Sagas). It is separated from Scotland by the broad, stormy, and troubled
channel called the Minch. The southern part of it only, or Harris, where
the mountains reach the height of between two and three thousand feet,
can be called mountainous, for the rest of the island is rather flat,
devoid of wood, and covered with heaths and moors. Some good arable land
is, however, to be met with here and there along the coasts. Even in
very early times this island was very densely inhabited by the Gaels, of
which, among other things, some immense rows of stones, near Callernish,
bear witness. In like manner, the Norwegians must, at a later date, have
had considerable colonies in it. On this head we must not, of course,
implicitly rely on the numerous traditions related by the common people
about the landing of “the Danes,” their rising power, and subsequent
overthrow. But, what is more certain, the names of not fewer than about
ten large lakes in the island still retain the Norwegian termination
_vat_ (“vatn,” Vand, water); and three of the largest are called Loch
Langavat (the long water). Several coves (Vige) in Harris are called
_vagh_ (“vagr”); as Groesavagh, Flodavagh; and in Lewis _wick_, as
Sandwich (Sandvig; _Eng._, Sand-bay), and Norwich (Nordvig; _Eng._
North-bay). To these may be added a great number of Norwegian names of
places ending in _stra_ or _sta_ (staðr, stead); as Little Scarristra,
Meickle Scarristra (Harris); Erista, Mangersta (Lewis); in _bost_
(bolstaðr), as, in Harris, Nisibost, Hagabost, Chillibost; and in Lewis,
Callbost, Habost, Luirbost, Crossbost, Melbost, Garrabost, and others
(in all about thirteen). Further, we find such names as Laxay (Laxá,
Laxaa; _Eng._, Salmon river), Laxdale, Nether Holm and Upper Holm, Tong
(túnga), &c. These Norwegian names of places are met with as well
towards the south and west as on the east coast, where they are most
numerous about Loch Seaforth (Sæfjörðr), and in the vicinity of the
little town of Stornoway. But they are chiefly concentrated at one
point, the most northern in the island, in a district which still
retains the pure Norwegian name of “Ness.”
On this Naze, or promontory, are the lakes Langavat and Steapavat; the
valleys Dibidale, Eorodale, North Dell, and South Dell; the manors and
towns Skegersta, Swainbost, Habost, Cross, and at the farthest extremity
Oreby or Eoropie (“Eyribœr,” the town on the Eir or Naze?); with the
adjacent headland of Raven, which may possibly have been called after
Odin’s sacred bird. At all events, there is good ground for assuming,
from these names of places, that the promontory had a pre-eminently
Norwegian population, which, indeed, is unmistakably apparent even at
the present day.
Throughout Harris and Lewis, for instance, the Gaelic inhabitants are
small, dark-haired, and in general very ugly. But no sooner do we arrive
at Ness, than we meet with people of an entirely different appearance.
Both the men and women have in general lighter hair, taller figures, and
far handsomer features. I visited several of their cabins, and found
myself surrounded by physiognomies so Norwegian, that I could have
fancied myself in Scandinavia itself, if the Gaelic language now spoken
by the people, and their wretched dwellings, had not reminded me that I
was in one of those poor districts in the north-west of Europe where the
Gaels or Celts are still allowed a scanty existence. The houses, as in
Shetland, and partly in Orkney, are built of turf and unhewn stones,
with a wretched straw or heather roof, held together by ropes laid
across the ridge of the house, and fastened with stones at the ends. The
houses are so low, that one may often see the children lie playing on
the side of the roof. The family and the cattle dwell in the same
apartment, and the fire, burning freely on the floor, fills the house
with a thick smoke, which slowly finds its way out of the hole in the
roof. The sleeping-places are, as usual, holes in the side walls.
It is but a little while ago that the inhabitants of the Naze, who are
said to have preserved faint traditions of their origin from Lochlin
(called also in Ireland, Lochlan), or the North, regarded themselves as
being of better descent than their neighbours the Gaels. The descendants
of the Norwegians seldom or never contracted marriage with natives of a
more southern part of the island, but formed among themselves a separate
community, distinguished even by a peculiar costume, entirely different
from the Highland Scotch dress. Although the inhabitants of Ness are
now, for the most part, clothed like the rest of the people of Lewis, I
was fortunate enough to see the dress of an old man of that district,
which had been preserved as a curiosity. It was of thick coarse woollen
stuff, of a brown colour, and consisted of a close-fitting jacket, sewn
in one piece, with a pair of short trousers, reaching only a little
below the knees. It was formerly customary with them not to cover the
head at all. In a carefully compiled Scotch and English guide book
(Anderson’s Guide, 1842) it is stated, that “The islanders of the
northern part of Lewis, with their long, matted, and uncombed hair,
which has never been restrained by hat or bonnet from flowing as freely
in the wind as their ponies’ manes, and their true Norwegian cast of
countenance, form living portraits of the ancient Norsemen. The other
inhabitants are chiefly of Celtic origin.” The difference between the
descendants of the Gaels and of the Norwegians is consequently so
apparent that it is as striking to a Scotchman or an Englishman as to a
Scandinavian.
It is said on the island that the inhabitants of Ness are more skilful
fishermen and better sailors than the rest of the men of Lewis. However
that may be, as a pretty numerous Norwegian population on it has long
kept itself unmixed and distinct from the Gaels, it is not improbable
that those men of Lewis who are related to have formerly harried
Shetland, until they were entirely defeated in a great battle in
Mainland, may have been inhabitants of Ness, who, after the custom of
the ancient Norwegians, went on expeditions beyond sea, either to gain
booty, or, more probably, to decide some old dispute by the sword. That
men of Lewis, of Gaelic descent, who have never liked the sea, but, on
the contrary, always feared it, should have ventured repeatedly, and in
great numbers, so far as Shetland, altogether exceeds belief.
On the coasts of Lewis and Harris are several small islands, with still
recognisable Norwegian names, such as Calvay (“Kálfey”), Pabbay
(“Papey”), Skarpa (Skarpey), Scalpay (Skalpey), together with the places
called Meathallybost, Bernera (Bjarnarey), and others. In the south-west
there are three large islands in a row; North Uist, Benbecula, and South
Uist (in the Sagas “Ivist”), where there are also evident traces of a
Norwegian population. A small island to the west of North Uist is called
Kirkibost (Kirkjubolstaðr); on Benbecula there are the lakes Loch
Ollevate and Langavat, as well as the _Vaage_, or inlets, Uskevagh,
Kenlerevagh, and Riavagh; and on South Uist there are likewise lakes and
inlets called _vat_ and _vagh_; to which may be added such names of
places as Frobast, Kirkidale, Hillisdale, and lastly, a mountain called
Heckla, probably from the well-known volcanic mountain in Iceland. In a
bay in the middle of South Uist are the islands Calvay and Pabbay. There
is still a great number of small isles on the coasts of these islands,
whose names in a greater or less degree all betray their Norwegian
origin; for instance, Grimsa (“Grimsey”), Barra (“Barey”), Lingay
(“Lyngey”), Hellesay (“Hellisey”), Eriskay (“Eiriksey”), and others. The
Norwegians must even have visited the little island of St. Kilda, which
lies about eighty miles west of Lewis; at least, two of the
often-mentioned and peculiarly Scandinavian bowl-formed brooches have
been discovered on the island; one of them I have seen in the
Andersonian Museum, in Glasgow. Similar brooches were also found, with a
skeleton, in the island of Sangay, between Harris and North Uist.
To the east of North and South Uist is the large island of Skye
(“Skið”), separated from the Highland mainland by a narrow sound
(“Skiðsund”). Between its more northern part and the mainland, where the
sea is broader, are the islands of Rona, Raasay (“Hrauneyjar”), Scalpa
(“Skálpey”), Pabba (“Papey”), and Longa (“Langey”). Skye, towards the
south, is remarkable for its numerous and lofty mountains, whose
beautiful forms are visible at a great distance. Towards the north the
island becomes gradually flatter and broader. In the west and north-west
parts it is indented by deep firths, round which are to be found the
most fertile districts in the island. The east coast, on the contrary,
is not so capable of cultivation, as it has large tracts of moorland
heath and sand. The Norwegians, therefore, advisedly chose to settle on
the western and north-western firths, which, besides being more fertile,
were not so exposed to the attacks of the Gaels as the eastern and
south-eastern coast, which very nearly approach the mainland. Not a few
Scandinavian names of places may be still clearly recognised near Loch
Snizort, such as Scuddeburgh, Skabost, Braebost, and, near a waterfall,
Forscachregin (the Norwegian _Fors_ with a Gaelic termination). By
Dungevan Loch are the inlets Kilmaluag and Altivaig, and the villages
Husabost, Collbost, and Nisabost. By Loch Bracadale (the “Vestrifjorðr”
of the Sagas) are Fors, Orbost, Collbost, and Eabost. By Loch Harporth,
Carabost; and by Loch Eynort, Husedalebeg and Husedalemore; which
latter, in a mixture of Norwegian and Gaelic, signify little and great
Huusdal (Housedale); and, with a similar mixture, Ghionaforsenary. A
little more inland is the valley of Tungadelebeg, where the Gaelic beg
(little) is added to the Norwegian Tungadal.
From the frequent Gaelic terminations and corruptions of the Norwegian
names, it is sufficiently evident that the Norwegian language has lost
its former dominion in the island, and that the Gaelic has resumed its
ancient pre-eminence. The western districts of Skye, as well as the
previously-mentioned Norderöer, or northern islands, from Lewis to
Barrahead (which last are often called under one name, “the Long
Island”), are precisely those places in the Highlands where the Gaelic
tongue is most unmixed, and where the greatest quantity of old Gaelic
traditions and songs still survives among the people. It was here also,
that a great number of the world-renowned songs of Ossian were first
composed. It is true we no longer hear the people sing them, but there
can nevertheless be scarcely any doubt, particularly if we regard the
perceptible traces of the ancient metre in the Gaelic texts, that the so
frequently and warmly disputed edition by Macpherson is really founded
on ancient songs, although these may have been somewhat altered by lapse
of time, and by a not very happy translation. They have quite a peculiar
interest for the Scandinavian North, from the striking agreement in tone
and spirit which they present to several of the songs of the Sagas and
Edda. These last, again, afford a strong proof of the genuineness of
those attributed to Ossian, since the songs of the Sagas and Edda, at
the time when Macpherson published his Ossian, were either not at all,
or but very imperfectly known, even in Scandinavia itself, not to speak
of other countries. The real age of Ossian’s songs is very uncertain,
and very difficult to discover; but this much is clear, that they
indicate a lively intercourse between Alba (Scotland) and Lochlin
(Scandinavia), long before the times of the Vikings, and previously to
all historical accounts of connections between those countries. We
cannot, however, venture to conclude from this that the Orkneys, or any
other part of Scotland, were at so early a period inhabited by a
Scandinavian people. That such a colonization should really have taken
place before the time of the Vikings, which began at the close of the
eighth century, there are not only wanting historical and archæological
proofs, but likewise all internal probability.
Mull (“Myl”) is the largest of the most southern Norderöer, or northern
islands, but it is not richest in memorials of the Northmen. In the
narrow strait or sound (“Mylarsund”) which separates the island from the
mainland, there lies straight before Tobermory, the most important place
in the island, the little island of Calve (“Mylarkálfr”); and somewhat
farther south of Tobermory, on a rivulet by the coast, are the ruins of
the palace of Aros (from “árós;” _Dan._, Aarhus, the mouth of the
rivulet or Aa), once frequently inhabited by the rulers of these
islands, called “Lords of the Isles.” Another river in Mull, well
stocked with fish, was formerly called Glenforsay (Monro, “Description
of the Western Isles,” 1594), from the Norwegian “forsá” (Fosaa; _Eng._,
Waterfall-river), to which the Gaelic _glen_ has since been added. With
the exception, perhaps, of Assapoll (from _-bol_), in the south-west,
the island has no Norwegian names of places. Of such names, however,
several are to be met with on the islands west of Mull, particularly on
Coll (“Kóln”), where we find Crossapull, Gisapoll (from _bol_), Arnabost
(-bolstaðr), and Balehough; and on Tiree, Tyrvist, together with
Kirkapoll, Heylipoll, Vassipoll, and Crossipoll. In the bay formed by
Mull, towards the west, are found many small islands with originally
Norwegian names, such as Ulva (“Ulfey”), together with Soriby, Gometra
(“Guðmundarey”), and Staffa (“Stafey”), so famed for its stalactic
caverns.
But of all the Hebrides, none is more renowned than Iona (Ithona, “the
Waves’ Island”), or Icolmkill, “the island with Columba’s cells,” which
lies in the open Atlantic, near the south-west point of Mull. It is not
distinguished either by size and fertility or by numerous and splendid
ruins; it is now but an inconsiderable island, with some few remains of
churches, conventual buildings, and ancient Christian sepulchral
monuments. But about thirteen centuries ago it was the light of the
western world; for, after St. Columba settled there, it became the
central point whence Christianity diffused itself towards the east and
north, over Scotland and the surrounding islands. Iona thus obtained
such repute for sanctity, that it was said that a deluge which was to
overwhelm Ireland, and the islands round about, would have no power to
inundate it. Tradition adds, that, for this reason, the ancient Irish,
Scotch, and Norwegian kings, besides many other chiefs and mighty men,
both at home and abroad, chose Iona as their place of burial; and that
at the commencement of the sixteenth century, no fewer than three
hundred and sixty splendid stone crosses, or tombstones, were still to
be found on the island, which, however, with some few exceptions, have
now entirely disappeared.
According to an old description of the island, by Dean Monro (1594),
there was to the north of the Scotch graves an inscription, which ran
thus:—“Tumulus regum Norwegie,” or, “the tombe of the Kings of Norroway,
in the quhilk tombe, as we find in our ancient Eriske cronickells, there
layes eight Kings of Norroway, and also we find in our Eriske
cronickells, that Coelus, King of Norroway, commandit his nobils to take
his bodey and burey it in Colmkill, if it chancit him to die in the
isles; bot he was so discomfitit, that ther remained not so many of his
army as wold burey him there.” By the kings of Norway here mentioned we
must of course understand only the kings of the Sudreyjar, or southern
islands, and the Irish kings of Norwegian descent. It is in itself very
probable that these kings often desired to be buried in Iona, where the
first bishops of the proper Sudreyjar, “the bishops of the isles,”
dwelt, and whose church of St. Mary was consequently the chief church in
the islands. The tombs of the kings, however, can at present scarcely be
pointed out with certainty; we only know that they must have been in the
large and still visible burial-place consecrated to St. Oran. On this
place there is likewise a little chapel consecrated to the same saint,
which, according to the opinion of some, is of Norwegian workmanship—a
point, however, which must be very doubtful.
In the chapel are to be seen the remains of a carved monument erected in
the year 1489 to Lachlan Mackinnon (Mac Fingon), and on it, underneath
the inscription, is a ship, which is still to be found in the family
arms of the Mackinnons, but which is said to have been originally the
heraldic bearing of the Norwegian kings in the Isle of Man.
[Illustration: [++] Monument - Boat Decoration]
The Island of Iona was of special importance in ancient times, not only
to Scotland, but to the Scandinavian North. From it Christianity was
assuredly disseminated among the Norwegians in the Sudreyjar, or
southern isles, the Orkneys, and the Shetland Isles; whence, again, it
was often carried by Vikings and merchants to Norway and Iceland. In the
latter place, where not a few men from the southern isles were among the
first colonists, there was even a church dedicated to St. Columba.
Whilst, therefore, heathen Norwegians plundered and destroyed the
churches and convents of Iona, the Christian Norwegians seem to have
respected its sanctity. The Sagas, which call it “Eyin helga” (the holy
island), state, that the Norwegian king, Magnus Barfod (Barefoot), when
in his first expedition to the Sudreyjar and Ireland, in the year 1097,
he came to “the holy island,” gave all the inhabitants a guaranty of
peace and security, and allowed them to retain their possessions. It is
also stated that “King Magnus opened the little Kolumkille Church, and
went therein; but that he directly locked the door again, and said that
no one should dare to enter; and since that time the church has never
been opened.”
----------
SECTION X.
The Sudreyjar, or Southern Isles.—Cantire.—Islay.—Man.—Names of
Places.—Runic Stones.—Kings.—Battle of Largs.—“Lords of the
Isles.”—Tynwald in Man.
Iona was not always accounted one of the northern isles. Farther towards
the north, on the north-west coast of Mull, are the islands of
Treshinish, and among them a steep rocky island, called Cairnburg, which
is said to have formed, at all events at times, the boundary between the
northern and southern isles, or Sudreyjar. Cairnburg is accessible only
at one spot, and by its height above the sea it forms an important
stronghold, which in former times was often numerously garrisoned. The
Sagas, which call the island “Bjana,” or “Bjarnarborg,” state that it
was one of those strong fortresses in the southern isles, the surrender
of which was in vain demanded by King Alexander the Second of Scotland,
from the Norwegian tributary king, Ion Dungadson; and tradition still
tells that “the Danes” often fought for the possession of this important
place.
“The Sudreyjar” (in which, among the larger islands, were included
Colonsay, Oransay, Jura, Islay, Arran, Bute, the Cumbr Islands, and
likewise the Peninsula of Cantire) are, strictly speaking, far from
being so numerous as the northern islands; but in general they are
distinguished from these by a richer and more fertile soil, which is the
result of their more southern and more protected situation. This remark
applies particularly to the charming islands of Arran (“Hersey”), Bute
(“Bót”), and the Cumbr Isles (Kumreyar), which lie eastwards of the
Peninsula of Cantire (“Satiri”), at the mouth of the Firth of Clyde; and
which, together with the rocks, heaths, and moors of the Highlands,
possess the woods and corn-fields of the Lowlands. They also enjoy a
fine climate.
But although these last-mentioned islands were often under the dominion
of Norwegian kings and jarls, they do not appear to have been inhabited
by a settled Norwegian population; at all events, Norwegian names of
places have disappeared from them. It is probable that they lay somewhat
too near the hostile coasts of Scotland, and somewhat too far from the
larger Norwegian colonies, for Norwegian settlers steadily to maintain
upon them a position against the Gaels; nay, the Norwegian name,
“Kumreyar,” the Cumbr Islands, seems to indicate that Cimri or Gaels
dwelt upon them.
Names of places on the Peninsula of Cantire, on the contrary, where we
find Smerbys (from _by_), Killipol (from _bol_), Torrisdale, and the
pure Norwegian Skipness, but more particularly on the islands outside
the Peninsula, near the west coast of Argyle, indicate a very
considerable Norwegian colonization. Not only have several of the small
islands Norwegian names, as Scarba (“Skarpey”) and Lunga (“Langey”), but
the largest and most fertile of them, Islay (the “Il” of the Sagas),
which Dean Monro as early as 1594 found to be fruitful, full of good
pastures, abounding with large deer, having many forests, excellent
hunting, and a river called Laxay (the pure _Old N._ “Laxá”) in which
many salmon were caught (“_with ane water callit Laxay, whereupon maney
salmon are slaine_”), still exhibits various traces of decidedly
Norwegian settlements. On its east coast, as is usually the case with
the Hebrides lying nearest to Scotland, few or no Norwegian names of
places are found; but in the middle of the island is Nerby; by Loch
Indal, Lyrabolls, Scarabolls, Conisby, Nerabolls, and Elister; and by a
rivulet, Skeba (“Skipá;” _Dan._, “Skibeaaen,” or the ship rivulet);
whilst on the west side of the island we find Olista, Culaboll, &c. This
agrees very well with the accounts that the kings and jarls of the
Sudreyjar of Norwegian descent had one of their chief residences in
Islay; for it was quite natural that they should surround themselves
with countrymen on whose courage and fidelity they could rely. The
island abounds, moreover, in traditions and pretended memorials of “the
Danes.” Near the bay of Knoch are two large upright stones, called “the
two stones of Islay,” under which it is said that the Danish princess,
Yula, after whom the island is named, lies buried. In various parts of
the island are shown what are called “Danish” castles, encampments, and
fortifications. It is also stated (see Anderson’s Guide), that there is
a circular mound of earth on the island, with terrace-formed steps,
which may possibly have once been used by the Norwegians as a _Thing_
place, like a similar one in the Isle of Man.
The chief seat of the Norwegian power on the islands was, however, still
more southward than Islay, namely, the Isle of Man (the “Mön” of the
Sagas), which lies in the Irish Channel, to the south-west of Solway
Firth, about midway between the coasts of Cumberland and Ireland. A
peculiar dialect of the Gaelic tongue, called Manx, is spoken throughout
this island, and the inhabitants have in general the same appearance as
their Gaelic neighbours in Wales, Scotland, and Ireland. But no other of
the western islands affords so many and such incontestable proofs of its
having once had a very wide-spread Norwegian or Scandinavian population,
who spoke their own language, and who, through a long series of years,
must have been the predominant race.
The highest mountain in the island, which is about 2000 feet high, is
called “Sneafell” (_Norw._, Sneefjeld; _Eng._, Snow-mountain). On the
east side is the rivulet and town of “Laxey” (Laxaa); in the south-east
is the long naze, “Langness.” To these may be added the bay called Derby
Haven, which the Norwegians called “Rognvaldsvágr,” whence the
neighbouring Ronaldsway derived its name. There are also the inlets of
Perwick and Fleswick; the islands Calf of Man, Eye (Oë), and Holm, near
the town of Peel; and, lastly, the villages Colby, Greenaby, Dalby,
Kirby (Kirkeby), Sulby, and Iurby (formerly “Ivorby”—Ivarsby?), &c. The
proportionately large number of names of places ending in “by,” which
suddenly appear in Man, in contrast to the more northern islands, with
their pure Norwegian names of places ending in “bol” and
“bolstaðr,”—which, it must be observed, are not to be found on Man,—is a
sort of proof that it received some colonists from the neighbouring old
Danish Cumberland, by which means a mixed Norwegian-Danish population
arose in the island.
The antiquary is much surprised to find on Man not merely one, but
several of those runic stones, with genuine Scandinavian inscriptions,
which he may have sought for in vain in England and Scotland. The
different districts of the island contain altogether about thirty
ancient sculptured monuments or sepulchral crosses; and of these at
least thirteen have once had runic inscriptions, which in great part are
still preserved. It is remarkable enough that these runic inscriptions
are found exclusively in the more northern half of the island (at Kirk
Andreas, two; at Kirk Michael, four; at Kirk Braddan, one; and at Kirk
Onchan, five); whence we may, with some degree of probability, conclude
that, at the time when these runic stones were erected, the Scandinavian
language was the most prevalent one in the northern part of the island.
The chronicles, indeed, state that the Norwegian, Godred Crovan, who
conquered Man in the year 1077, retained the southern part of the island
for himself and his followers; but the before-mentioned runic stones are
certainly older than Godred’s conquest. The inscriptions on the stones
have hitherto been copied and explained only in a very imperfect manner;
but since casts in plaster have been taken of them, their interpretation
has become incomparably easier and more simple. I have myself closely
examined and compared them in two places (at Edinburgh, in the Museum of
the Society of Scottish Antiquaries, and at Canons Ashby, in England,
the seat of Sir Henry Dryden, Bart.); and I have since had an
opportunity to renew my examination of all of them, in conjunction with
the learned Norwegian professor, P. A. Munch, to whom I am indebted for
several very important hints relative to their correct interpretation
(amongst others that the rune ᚮ, which in most inscriptions signifies
_o_, must in these always be read as _b_).
[Illustration: [++] Stones - Runic Inscriptions]
The annexed cut, after a plaster cast, represents one of the finest and
best preserved runic stones in Man, namely, at Kirk Braddan, about the
middle of the island.
The stone is fifty-seven inches high, eight inches broad at the base,
and when the cross was whole, had a breadth of twelve inches at the top.
Both its broad and one of its narrow sides are ornamented with serpents
ingeniously interwoven, whilst the fourth side has the following runic
inscription:
“Thurlabr Neaki risti krus thana aft Fiaks ... bruthur sun Jabrs.”
(“Thorlaf Neaki erected this cross to Fiak ... brother, a son of
Jabr.”)
Another extremely well-preserved monumental cross, on which are carved
various scrolls, animals, birds, and other things, such as horses, a
stag, cows (?), swine, &c., stands in Andreas churchyard, and has the
following inscription:—
“Sandulf ein suarti raisti krus thana aftir Arin Biaurg kuinn sina.”
(_i. e._, “Sandulf the Swarthy erected this cross to his wife
Arnbjörg.”)
[Illustration: [++] Monument: Andreas Churchyard]
(The drawing of this monument, as well as those of the following
inscribed stones, is borrowed from W. Kinnebrook’s “Etchings of the
Runic Monuments in the Isle of Man,” London, 1841, 8vo. But the faulty
inscriptions in that book are here corrected.)
[Illustration: [++] Monument: Kirk Michael]
In the middle of the village of Kirk Michael, close to the northern
corner of the churchyard, is a stone not less richly sculptured than the
preceding one, with all sorts of figures of stags, dogs, serpents,
horses, horsemen, &c., which are placed round a large cross covered with
interlacings, or scrolls. The inscription on it runs thus:—
“Jualfir sunr Thurulfs eins Rautha risti krus thana aft Frithu
muthur sina.” (Or, “Joalf, son of Thorolf the Red, erected this
cross to his mother Frida.”)
At the end of the inscription is carved the figure of a man (probably
Joalf), with a shield on his arm and a lance in his hand. (See the
annexed cut.)
The language of the inscriptions, as well as the Scandinavian names
which appear in them,—as Thorlaf, Arnbjörg, Frida, and particularly the
names compounded after the genuine Scandinavian fashion, as Sandulf the
Swarthy, and Thorolf the Red,—sufficiently prove that these monuments
were erected by Northmen, or Norwegians, to their relatives who had died
in the Isle of Man. A piece of runic stone in the wall of Michael’s
Church bears the name of Grim the Swarthy (“Grims ins Suarta”); and in
some similar fragments of inscriptions near Kirk Onchan we find the
names of Thurid (“Thurith raist runir,” _i. e._, Thurith engraved runes)
and Leif (“tra es Laifa fustra guthan son Ilan”). The well-known
Scandinavian name, Asketil, is also found on the remains of a runic
inscription in the museum in Douglas (“p. Askitil vilti i
trigu——aithsaara siin;” _i. e._, whom Asketil deceived in security,
contrary to his pledge of peace). At the same time, however, we may
infer from names like Neaki, Fjak, and Jabr, that the Northmen must,
when these inscriptions were written, have already mingled with the
original Gaelic inhabitants of Man. A stone at Kirk Michael, which is
ornamented with a finely sculptured cross, on the sides of which are
seen a stag, a dog, a harper, and two figures apparently in an attitude
of prayer, has a Norwegian inscription with purely Gaelic names, such as
Mal Lumkun and Mal Muru:—
“Mal Lumkun raisti krus thana eftir Malmuru fustra sin...;” (_i.
e._, “Mal Lumkun erected this cross to his foster father Malmor.”)
[Illustration: [++] Monument]
Some hitherto inexplicable fragments of inscriptions at Kirk Onchan may
also possibly contain Gaelic words. The Manx runic stones bear, both in
form and workmanship, a striking resemblance to the previously-mentioned
sculptured monuments in the Lowlands, and on the north-east coasts of
the Highlands. Yet several of the Manx stones exhibit certain
peculiarities; as, for instance, the singular scale-covered serpents
surrounded with interlacings, which do not appear in a similar form on
the Scotch monuments. But as these serpents and interlacings very much
agree with ornaments on different antiquities of the heathen times found
in Scandinavia, and, as the language of the runic stones is pure
Scandinavian, there is every reason to conclude that the splendid
specimens on Man were carved by Norwegians, who, though they imitated
the monuments in vogue in Scotland, frequently allowed their own
characteristically fantastic ideas to display themselves in peculiar
devices. This view is confirmed in a remarkable manner by a few Manx
runic inscriptions, the real interpretation of which was first given by
Professor Munch. On the stone at Kirk Michael, represented below, is the
following inscription:—
“Mail Brigdi sunr Athakans smith raisti krus thana fur salu sini sin
brukuin Gaut girthi thana auk ala i Mann.” _i. e._, “Malbrigd, son
of Athakan (the) Smith, erected this cross for his soul.... Gaut
made this (cross) and all on Man.”
According to this, Gaut, who, to judge from the name, was a Norwegian,
erected all the crosses which, it must be observed, were at that time on
Man. Another inscription perfectly agreeing with this, though taken from
a very much defaced and broken monument near Kirk Andreas, on which has
been carved a cross with many scrolls (delineated in Kinnebrook’s work,
No. 8), runs as follows:—
“... thana af Ufaig fauthur sin in Gautr girthi sunr Biarnar ...”
“(N. N. erected) this (cross) to his father Ufeig, but Gaut Björnsön
made it.”
Gaut’s surname, here given, further proves his Norwegian, or
Scandinavian, descent. From the language and manner of writing in the
Manx inscriptions still extant, we may assume that, with the exception
perhaps of some few pieces at Kirk Michael (Mal Lumkun’s inscription)
and Kirk Onchan (Leif inscription), which, according to Professor
Munch’s opinion, are of a somewhat later period, all these inscriptions
were from the artist-hand of Gaut Björnsön. It is even probable that
several of the other sculptured stones in Man, which are not known to
have had inscriptions (particularly at Kirk Onchan, Kirk Braddan, and
Kirk Lonan; see Kinnebrook, Nos. 16, 17, 20, 22, 23), were carved by
Gaut, or at least by a Northman. At all events, they are somewhat
different from the corresponding stones in Scotland; and some of them
(Onchan, 20, and Braddan, 23) prove themselves to be genuine Norwegian
runic stones, by the same peculiar figures of dragons and serpents as on
those before described.
The circumstance that those sculptured monumental stones in Man, which
are Norwegian, have both runic writings and peculiar representations of
figures, certainly affords a strong corroboration of the opinion before
expressed, that the sculptured monuments, generally so finely executed,
which are found on the east coast of Scotland, are in fact, though
called “Danish,” not Scandinavian, but Scotch. As, on the other hand,
the runic stones in Man have expressly preserved the name of the person
who made them—the Norwegian skilled in runes, Gaut Björnsön, who
imitated and altered the Scotch models with great expertness and
taste—it is clear that the Norwegians in the remote Western Isles must
not be regarded, any more than their kinsmen in the Orkneys and in
England, as merely rude barbarians, living only for plunder, war, and
bloodshed, and having no feeling for anything higher and nobler. The
discovery of Gaut Björnsön’s name may be regarded as an instructive
addition to the proofs before adduced, that the cathedral in Kirkwall
was originally founded, and partly erected, by a Norwegian layman, the
chieftain Kol; as well as that there existed at the same time in England
a considerable number of Danish, or Scandinavian, coiners. Of the
latter, as we shall see, there were likewise several employed by the
Norwegian-Danish kings in Ireland. For the rest, these characteristic
Scandinavian runic writings suffice to show that, with regard to the
civilization then prevailing, the Norwegians or Danes settled in these
districts were by no means deficient in education. The Northmen on the
Isle of Man were, besides, at a very early period, Christians. Almost
all the Manx runic stones are ornamented with the Christian cross; and
on a defaced piece of such a monumental stone at Kirk Onchan we even
find the words Jesus Christ (“Jsu Krist”). From the language of the
inscriptions there is reason to suppose that they were for the most part
engraved in the eleventh century. We cannot, therefore, doubt that
Christianity must at that time have been already disseminated among the
Scandinavian population in the Isle of Man. There was a bishopric in the
island in very ancient times; and we learn from history, as well as from
the names of the bishops, that in the eleventh, twelfth, and thirteenth
centuries several of them were of Norwegian descent; for instance, in
1050-1065, Roolwer (Rolf?); 1077-1100, Aumond M’Olave; 1181-1190,
Reginald, or Ragnvald; 1203-1226, Reginald (son of a sister of King
Olaf, of Man); and his successor, John Ivarsön. Unfortunately there is a
gap in the chronicles of the bishops of Man from about the year 700 to
the year 1025. Had they been perfect, we should possibly have been able
to find Scandinavian bishops in the island even earlier than 1050.
The Norwegian monuments in the Isle of Man already mentioned are in
themselves numerous and considerable enough to convey an idea of the
power which the Norwegians must have possessed there. At all events, the
names of places and the runic stones contribute in a high degree to
strengthen and illustrate the assertion of the Chronicles, that
Norwegian kings and jarls held confirmed dominion in the Sudreyjar, or
southern isles. When, in the ninth century, the Norwegian king Harald
Haarfager succeeded in subjecting the Orkneys and the Sudreyjar, he is
said to have appointed a viceroy or jarl in Man. During the tenth and
eleventh centuries a long series of Norwegian kings ruled there, whose
descent is clearly shown by their names; _viz._, Godred (Gudröd),
Reginald (Ragnvald), Olave, Hacon, Harold, &c. In the eleventh century
the connection between these kings and the Norwegian or Scandinavian
kings of Dublin was so particularly close, that either the same, or at
all events nearly-related kings, reigned over both Man and Dublin.
The kings of Man were tributaries of Norway, and acknowledged the
supremacy of that country, although in reality they ruled
independently. At that time their dominion extended over the rest of
the Sudreyjar. But in the year 1077 the Norwegian, Godred Crovan,
succeeded in conquering Man, after a battle near “Scacafell,” or
Skyhill, in which King Fingal, a grandson of Sygtrig (Sigtryg), “King
of the Danes in Dublin,” fell, as well as Sygtrig Mac Olave, the
actual Danish king of Dublin. Godred Crovan now assumed the government
of the islands, and appears to have declared himself perfectly
independent of Norway. Subsequently he conquered Dublin also, as well
as the province of Leinster in Ireland. In order to maintain Norway’s
right of supremacy, the Norwegian king, Magnus Barfod, shortly
afterwards undertook an expedition to the west. He committed great
havoc along the firths of Scotland (“Skotlandsfirðir,” or the coasts
by the Caledonian Sea), and in the Sudreyjar, Man, Anglesey, and
Ireland, and regained the kingdom which his forefathers had possessed.
According to a treaty with the Scottish king Malcolm, all the islands
lying to the west of Scotland, which Magnus could approach with
sailing vessels, were to belong to Norway. King Magnus accordingly
caused his ship to be hauled over the narrow isthmus (Satíriseið)
which connects the peninsula of Cantire with the mainland, and which
to the present day is called by the Gaels “Tarbet” (a place over which
vessels can be dragged). The King himself sat at the helm, and thus
acquired the peninsula, besides all the Western Islands. Having
appointed his son Sigurd king of the Sudreyjar, he returned home to
Norway, where, with several of his followers, he adopted the dress
generally worn in the Western Isles. “They went about the streets with
bare legs, and wore short coats and cloaks; whence Magnus was called
by his men Barfod, or Barbeen” (Barefoot, or Barelegs), says the
Icelandic historian, Snorre Sturlesön, who, as is well known, lived in
the first half of the thirteenth century. It is remarkable enough that
this is the oldest account extant of the well-known Scotch Highland
dress, whose high antiquity is thus proved.
The Jarl Ottar, who after Magnus Barfod’s expedition was made governor
of Man, was expelled by the inhabitants of that island (“Manverjar”),
who chose in his place another jarl named Macmanus (or Magnusön). But a
civil war now broke out in the island, and as King Magnus Barfod fell in
Ireland in 1103, when on a fresh expedition to the Western Islands,
Godred Crovan’s family regained the Manx throne. It appears, however,
that they acknowledged the supremacy of Norway; at all events, the
previously distinct bishoprics of the Sudreyjar (founded in 838) and of
Man were united after Magnus Barfod’s expedition, and connected more
closely than ever with Norway, by being subjected to the archbishopric
of Trondhjem. From 1181 until 1334 the bishops of the Sudreyjar
(“Episcopi Sodorenses”) were consecrated by the Archbishop of Trondhjem.
In the year 1380 the bishopric of Man was again separated from that of
the other Sudreyjar; but the subsequent bishops of Man have retained to
the present day the old title of bishop of Sodor (and Man), taken
originally from Suðreyar.
About the same time that the proper Suðreyar were, with, regard to
ecclesiastical matters, united with Man, many of them were, as to
secular government, separated from that island; although, since the time
of Harald Haarfager, all had been governed by the same kings. Jarl
Somerled, who was related in various ways to the Norwegian chiefs on the
islands, had assumed the dominion of Cantire, Argyle, and Lorn (the
“Dalir i Skotlandsfirdi” of the Sagas). After a naval battle, in the
year 1156, with the Manx king, Godred Olavesön, Jarl Somerled compelled
Godred to resign to him all the Sudreyjar from Mull to Man, which
possessions afterwards remained in his family (“Dalverja-Ætt”). His
youngest son, Dugal, the founder of the family of the Mac Dougals of
Lorn, obtained Argyle and Lorn, whilst Cantire and the islands were
assigned to his eldest son Ragnvald, or Reginald. Meanwhile Godred
Crovan’s successors reigned over Man, and frequently, as it seems, over
the islands to the north of Mull likewise, and particularly Lewis. They
constantly sought to strengthen their diminished power by forming
alliances with royal families, and other powerful races in Ireland,
Scotland, and Norway. Thus King Harald Olafsön, whose father King Olaf
Godredsön had, in the year 1230, repaired to King Hakon Hakonsen in
Norway, and taken the oath of allegiance to him, married King Hakon’s
daughter Cecilie; but on the voyage home from Norway in 1248, the royal
couple perished in the dangerous Somburg Röst, to the south of Shetland,
together with the Manx bishop, Lawrence, and a numerous retinue of Manx
chiefs. Harald’s brother, King Ragnvald, was shortly afterwards murdered
by the knight Ivar, and was succeeded on the throne by his youngest
brother Magnus, who was the last of Godred Crovan’s descendants, and
above all the last Norwegian who filled the throne of Man.
The Scotch kings had long been aiming at the expulsion of the Norwegians
from the north and west of Scotland. Alexander the Second (1214-1249)
repeatedly sent ambassadors to King Hakon, in Norway, offering to
purchase the right of that kingdom to the Norwegian possessions in
Scotland; but as they did not succeed, Alexander declared that he would
not rest till he had planted his banner on the farthest point of the
Norwegian dominions in Scotland. But whilst he lay with part of his army
at the island of Kerrera (“Kjarbarey”), not far from Mull, he fell sick
and died, after which the army was disbanded. However, his successor,
Alexander the Third (1249-1289), zealously prosecuted the plan for the
expulsion of the Norwegians. The Scots having at length begun to ravage
the Sudreyjar, and particularly the Isle of Skye, with fire and sword,
King Hakon, when the tidings reached Norway, equipped a large fleet, and
issued orders for an expedition to avenge the attack that had been made
on his dominions.
Accordingly, in 1263, he sailed with a large and well-appointed force to
Elwick (“Ellidarvik”) on Shapinsay, in the Orkneys, and thence to
Ragnvaldsvaag (“Rögnvaldsvágr”) under South Ronaldshay, near Pentland
Firth. He had despatched several ships before him to the Sudreyjar,
whose crews devastated the coasts of Sutherland, particularly the
district around the firth of Durness (“Dyrnes”), where they destroyed a
castle and burnt more than twenty mansions. The King then sailed to the
before-mentioned isle of Kerrera, where he assembled his fleet,
consisting of about 200 ships. King Magnus from Man, and King Dugal from
the Sudreyjar, joined him there; but Ion, the other king of the
Sudreyjar, or, as he was called in Scotland, Ewen, was exempted by King
Hakon from fighting against the Scots. King Hakon permitted his men to
devastate the islands and coasts of the Firth of Clyde. Some of his
chiefs sailed up Loch Long (“Skipafjörðr”), and hauled their ships over
the narrow strip of land, called Tarbet, into Loch Lomond (“Lokulofni”),
whence they harried the surrounding district of Lennox (“Lofnach”).
Meanwhile verbal messages passed between the Norwegian and Scottish
kings, but without leading to any reconciliation. The time was thus
whiled away till late in the autumn, when King Hakon anchored with his
fleet under Cumbrey in the Clyde, opposite the hamlet of Largs. Here he
was assailed by such a furious storm, that his Norwegians, unacquainted
with the equinoctial gales on the west coast of Scotland, imagined that
the tempest had been evoked by witchcraft. Some of the King’s ships were
driven ashore near Largs, when the Scots immediately began to attack
them. As the Scotch king had in the meantime arrived on the spot with a
large army, a fierce battle took place on the plain near Largs (3rd of
October, 1263), in which the Norwegians, who were exhausted by their
endeavours to save their ships, and who on account of the storm could
not avail themselves of their whole force, were overpowered. King Hakon
then sailed with the remainder of his fleet round Cape Wrath to
“Goafjörðr” (undoubtedly the excellent harbour in Loch Eribol in
Sutherland), and after suffering much from violent storms and tempests,
at length again reached Ragnvaldsvaag in the Orkneys. He now prepared to
pass the winter in Kirkwall, where, however, he shortly afterwards died
(16th December, 1263).
The battle of Largs, the last combat in these western regions between
the kings of Scotland and Norway, was of a decisive character. The kings
in Sudreyjar and Man, who could now no longer venture to reckon upon
adequate protection from Norway, submitted to the dominion of the Scotch
king. King Magnus Hakonsön, of Norway, found it most advisable (1266) to
cede Norway’s supremacy over the Sudreyjar and Man to the Scottish crown
for the sum of 4000 marks sterling and a yearly tribute of 100 marks.
But the Scots did not obtain immediate possession of Man. King Magnus
died there in 1265, and was buried in the convent of Russin, near Derby
Haven (“Rögnvaldsvágr”), which one of his forefathers had founded, or at
all events enlarged, in 1134, and which already contained the bones of
several Norwegian kings, chiefs, and ecclesiastics (as, for instance, of
Bishop Reginald, + 1225; King Olave Godredsön, + 1237; and the chief
Gospatrick, + 1240). With Magnus the family of Godred Crovan became
extinct; but the powerful knight Ivar assumed the dominion of Man; and
it was not till the year 1270 that the Scots, who had landed in
Ragnvaldsvaag, succeeded, in a hard-fought battle, in killing Ivar,
together with a great number of the leading men of the island, who had
fought desperately for their independence.
Thus was terminated the actual Norwegian dominion over the Sudreyjar. As
the battle of Largs considerably contributed to this event, it is no
wonder that this battle, and above all King Hakon’s expedition, still
figure in Scottish traditions. On the battle-field near Largs—where
human bones, as well as “Danish axes” and swords, are often found—are
still to be seen two almost unique barrows or tumuli, the most
remarkable in Scotland, being about 25 feet high, and nearly 20 feet
broad at the top, in which the Norwegians and Scots who had been slain
are said to have been buried. One of the mounds, which stands just at
the back of the town, and close to the shore, is probably the grave of
the Norwegians; for the Sagas, whose accounts agree on the whole so
exactly with the localities that they must have been derived from
eye-witnesses, relate that King Hakon, the day after the battle, buried
his dead on the coast, in the neighbourhood of a church. The other mound
stands on the plain, a few thousand paces farther off. According to the
statements of the common people, on the day of the battle, blood flowed
instead of water in a little rivulet or beck that runs past “Killing
Craig.” A number of smaller barrows and scattered stones, formerly to be
seen on the plain, were likewise ascribed by tradition, though certainly
without reason, to the same battle. They undoubtedly belonged to a far
more ancient time; as is also the case with an excellent silver-gilt
brooch found near Hunterston, about three miles from Largs, which was at
once said to have been lost by some Norwegian who fled from the field of
battle. There is a short Scandinavian runic inscription scratched on the
back of it; but, from what has hitherto been deciphered, it would rather
seem to denote the name of a Scotchman than of a Norwegian. Professor
Munch reads, and certainly with good reason, as follows:—
“Malbritha a dalk thana” ... or, “Melbrigd owns this brooch.”
In workmanship, moreover, it resembles the contemporary Irish and Scotch
more than Scandinavian ornaments.
The remembrance of this last expedition of the Norwegians is scarcely
less vivid in several of the harbours which King Hakon visited with his
fleet; as, for instance, Lamlash (“Melasey”), in Arran; Sanda (“Sandey”)
near the south point of Cantire, where are shown the remains of a chapel
and a churchyard, in which are said to repose the bones of many Danish
and Norwegian chiefs; also in Gigha (“Gúdey”); Kerrera (“Kjarbarey”),
with its “Danish” fort “Gylen;” and lastly, in Kyle Rhee (the King’s
Strait), and Kyle Akin (Hakon’s Strait?), in the straits between the
Isle of Skye and Lochalsh, on the coast of Ross-shire. According to a
tradition, which is, however, entirely without foundation, King Hakon,
in his flight from Largs, was attacked in this strait and killed,
together with a great number of his followers. With similar exaggeration
the Scots relate that all the Norwegians round about in the Sudreyjar
were killed after the battle of Largs. On one of the islands near Barra
was shown, not long since, and perhaps is even still, a heap of human
bones, as the remains of the last Danes murdered there. On Lewis there
is the following tradition—that when the Danes were quartered round
about in the island, and were very troublesome on account of their
oppressions, the Gaels laid a plan to murder them. The “fiery cross” was
circulated through the island, with this brief announcement: “marbhadh
ghach then a Bhuana;” that is, “every one shall kill his guest.” The
strangers, who had not time to assemble together, were thus murdered one
by one.
It cannot admit of a doubt that the Norwegians on the Sudreyjar, who for
centuries had taken fast root in the islands, and become mixed with the
families of the Scotch chiefs, could not thus disappear all at once
without leaving a trace behind them. In Lewis, as I have before proved,
vestiges of a Norwegian population still exist. The best refutation of
the tradition is, however, the circumstance that with the exception of
Man, the Sudreyjar continued to be governed by the same chiefs who had
ruled the islands under the Norwegian dominion; and who, being descended
from Somerled himself, were in a great degree of Norwegian extraction.
Somerled’s successors also continued, after the old fashion, to defy the
Scotch kings, who often sought in vain to subdue the bold “Lords of the
Isles,” so famed in song and legend. Sometimes they declared themselves
independent, and sometimes they were compelled to yield to the superior
force of the kings, and acknowledge them as their feudal lords; until at
length, but not before the sixteenth century, the power of these island
chieftains was entirely subdued. Even to the present day many Highland
clans assert that they are descended from the Danes, or Norwegians. This
much is at all events certain, that several clans have Scandinavian
blood in their veins, as appears clearly enough from the names of
Clan-Ranald (from Reginald or Ragnvald) and Clan-Dugal (from Dubhgall,
“the dark strangers,” the usual name for the Danes); both which clans,
it is expressly stated, are descended from Somerled. To these may be
added the clan of Macleod in Skye, whose chiefs still commonly bear the
pure Norwegian names of “Torquil” and “Tormod.”
But the enduring influence of the Norwegian dominion in the Sudreyjar is
best established by the fact that since the battle of Largs, the Isle of
Man, through all the vicissitudes of fate, and after passing by sale
into the possession of the English crown, has uninterruptedly retained
its peculiar position as a kingdom, having its own originally Norwegian
or Scandinavian constitution, and its annual assemblies on the identical
Thing-hill, Tynwald (or, as it was formerly called Tingualla,
“Þingavöllr”), from which, about a thousand years ago, the Norwegians
governed the Sudreyjar. Although the British Parliament makes laws for
England, Ireland, and Scotland, they are of no validity in the Isle of
Man, unless they are in accordance with the ancient laws and liberties
of the island, and, after being confirmed by its own Parliament, are
proclaimed from Tynwald Hill.
The Manx Parliament, whose origin is lost in the mists of remote
antiquity, but whose establishment is usually ascribed to the Danish
king Orry (Erik?), who settled in the island in the beginning of the
tenth century, consists of the three “estates” of the island: 1st, the
king, or superior lord; 2nd, the governor and council; 3rd, the
twenty-four representatives of the island (“Keys, or Taxiaxi”). The
upper house, or council, consists of the bishop, two superior judges
(“deemsters”), and six other of the highest officers in the island. The
representatives in “the house of Keys” fill up vacancies themselves, and
hold their seats for life, without being in any way responsible to the
people for their votes.
This aristocratic mode of election reminds one of the time of the
Norwegian conquest, when the Norwegians made themselves lords over the
natives. The _Thing_, or Tynwald Court, which can be assembled by the
governor at any time whatever, possesses, according to old Scandinavian
custom, both the judicial and the legislative power. The house of Keys
is the first, and the Council the second court of appeal for certain
causes, after they have been tried by the inferior courts in the island.
The Council can reject proposals for laws brought in by the house of
Keys, and the king again can reject the united proposals of both houses.
On the other hand, what all the three estates have agreed on becomes a
law (“a Tynwald act”); but it is not in force until it has been
proclaimed from Tynwald Hill.
This hill, which stands in the midst of a valley on the west coast of
the island, close to the northern side of the town of Peel, is said to
have been originally raised with earth taken from all the seventeen
parishes in the island. It forms four terraces, or steps, the lowest of
which is eight feet broad, the next six feet, the third four feet, and
the topmost six feet. There are three feet between every step, or
terrace, and the circumference of the hill is about 240 feet. It is
covered with green sward. (See Cumming. “The Isle of Man.” London,
1848.)
Once a year, on St. John the Baptist’s Day, the governor of Man,
attended by a military escort, sets out from Castle Town, and, together
with the Tynwald Court, attends divine service in St. John’s Chapel,
situated a few hundred paces from the hill. After the service, the whole
court repairs in solemn procession to the hill, whence all the laws that
have been passed in the course of the year are proclaimed in English and
Manx. The procession then returns to the chapel, where the laws are
signed and sealed.
Amongst all the Scandinavian Thing-hills, or Thing-walls (“Þingavellir”)
that can be traced in the old Danish part of England, in the Norwegian
part of Scotland, as well as in the Orkneys and Shetland Islands, and
which also formerly existed in Iceland, Norway, and throughout the
North, Tynwald in Man is the only one still in use.
It is, indeed, highly remarkable that the last remains of the old
Scandinavian _Thing_, which, for the protection of public liberty, was
held in the open air, in the presence of the assembled people, and
conducted by the people’s chiefs and representatives, are to be met with
not in the North itself, but in a little island far towards the west,
and in the midst of the British kingdom. The history of the Manx _Thing_
court remarkably illustrates that spirit of freedom and that political
ability which animated the men who in ancient times emigrated from
Norway and the rest of the Scandinavian North.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
THE
NORWEGIANS IN IRELAND.
----------
SECTION I.
Nature and Population of Ireland.—The “Danish” Conquests.—Traditions
about the “Danes.”—Political Movements.
Ireland may still be justly called the chief land of the ancient Celtic
tribes. Long after the Britons and Caledonians had been driven out by
the Romans and Anglo-Saxons, and obliged to fly to the remotest mountain
districts of the west, their Irish kinsmen retained firm possession of
the whole large and fertile country of Ireland. Subsequently, it is
true, the Irish also were compelled to give way before the conquests of
the Norwegians and English; yet they continued to inhabit the greater
part of the country in vastly superior numbers; and even in the
districts conquered by foreigners, which were mostly confined to the sea
coasts, they dwelt intermingled with the new immigrants. In spite of the
attempts of the English to subdue and annihilate the nationality of the
Irish, they continued to preserve throughout the middle ages their
ancient language and their characteristic manners and customs. With all
their power the English have not even been able to root out the Roman
Catholic religion, which to the present day forms the predominant church
of the Irish. It is only in later times that they have succeeded in
gaining a firmer footing in Ireland than they previously possessed. The
English language and customs are continually making greater progress
towards the west; and the Irish, who can no longer withstand England’s
power, seek in great numbers, like their kinsmen in Scotland, a new
asylum in America. The struggle is the more severe in proportion as the
Irish are more numerous than the Celtic population in Scotland and
England. The last violent throes of the once powerful and mighty Irish
nationality now fearfully agitate Ireland, which has been so long and so
severely tried by oppression, pestilence, and famine.
One of the most active causes of the misfortunes of Ireland and the
Irish is, however, the same that occasioned the ruin of the Celts in
England and Scotland; namely, that they could never sincerely unite
together. They have always abandoned themselves too much to eastern
indolence and quiet, regardless of the march of civilization, and
neglecting to avail themselves sufficiently of the rich resources
afforded by their native land. For, although it is true that there are
considerable tracts of boggy land in Ireland, and that many districts
are but little capable of cultivation, yet in the main Ireland is
exceedingly well adapted for agriculture. The neighbourhood of the
Atlantic produces mild breezes, which permit neither frost nor snow to
be of long duration, and consequently promote a rare and luxuriant
vegetation. In few countries do we behold so many creeping plants, and
such beautiful and verdant fields and pastures, as in Ireland, which,
from its green meadows, has obtained the appropriate name of “the
Emerald Isle.” The land is intersected by rivers partially navigable,
abounding in fish, and its coasts are washed by a sea—which not only
from its rich fisheries, but from the facilities which it affords to
navigation, particularly towards America—might, if properly used, become
an inexhaustible source of wealth.
From time immemorial Ireland was celebrated in the Scandinavian North
for its charming situation, its mild climate, and its fertility and
beauty. The “Kongespeil” (or “Mirror of Kings”), which was compiled in
Norway about the year 1200, says that “Ireland is almost the best of the
lands we are acquainted with, although no vines grow there.” The
Scandinavian Vikings and emigrants, who often contented themselves with
such poor countries as Greenland and the islands in the North Atlantic
Ocean, must therefore have especially turned their attention to “the
Emerald Isle,” particularly as it bordered very closely upon their
colonies in England and Scotland.
But to make conquests in Ireland, and to acquire by the sword alone
permanent settlements there, were no easy tasks. The remote situation of
Ireland, so far towards the west in the Atlantic Ocean, was of itself no
slight defence. With the exception of certain tracts, principally on the
east coast, the land is full of mountains, which everywhere afford
secure retreats from an invading enemy. In our days Ireland, the second
of the British Isles in point of magnitude, has a population of between
six and seven millions, chiefly of ancient Irish, or Celtic origin; and
in ancient times, when the Celts were entirely independent, and absolute
masters of the country, the population does not appear to have been much
less numerous. Ireland, moreover, distinguished itself by adopting
Christianity, together with its accompanying civilization, at a very
early period, which, however, was not able to put an end to the cruel
and sanguinary disputes that raged between the different tribes
composing its population. Thus the proportionately few and scattered
Norwegians, who could reach Ireland only by sea, and who could derive
assistance only from their countrymen settled upon the coasts of England
and Scotland, had to contend with a numerous, and by no means unwarlike
people, inhabiting an extensive and mountainous country. To obtain
assistance in the hour of need from their own Scandinavian home was, on
account of the great distance, a physical impossibility. When,
therefore, we consider that neither the Romans nor the Anglo-Saxons ever
obtained a footing in Ireland, although they had conquered the adjacent
country, England; and when we further reflect upon the immense power
exerted by the English in later times in order to subdue the Celtic
population of Ireland, and the many centuries which elapsed before they
even partially succeeded, we cannot help being surprised at the very
considerable Scandinavian settlements which, as early as the ninth
century, were formed in Ireland, and at the great influence which the
Norwegians, according to the concurring evidence of the Irish and
Scandinavian chronicles, must for more than three centuries have
exercised in all the most important places in the country.
On his first entrance into Ireland, a Scandinavian traveller will be
immediately reminded of the ancient dominion of his countrymen. It
cannot possibly escape his observation what a striking part the
Norwegians—or, as they are there exclusively called, the “Danes”—play in
the popular legends and traditions of Ireland. That, like the
north-western districts of Scotland, it should have best preserved the
popular life of ancient times with its songs and legends, must, it is
true, be ascribed to its remote situation. Everywhere, even far in the
interior of the country, we are shown Danish raths (mounds and
entrenchments), and among others the so-called “Danes-cast,” a long
ditch and rampart in Ulster. “Danish cooking-places” are also pointed
out, consisting of small circular spaces set round with stones, and
bearing traces of embers and burnings, some of which are met with
scattered about on heaths and moors. In the ancient copper mines in the
south of Ireland roundish stones with a dent round the middle are now
and then dug up, which it is evident were used in former times in
working the mines. These stones are called by the common people “Danes’
hammers.” In like manner they generally call most of the antiquities
that are dug up, whether weapons or ornaments, “Danish.” Tales
calculated to awaken horror of outrages of the Danes are connected with
all these pretended Danish memorials; and the farther we travel into the
remote western districts, the more terrible are the tales we hear of the
distress and cruel oppressions which the inhabitants endured under their
Danish conquerors. Nevertheless the Irishman has preserved, like the
Englishman, the remembrance of the Danes’ contempt of death, and
irresistible bravery. “That might even frighten a Dane,” says the
Irishman at times, when speaking of some desperate undertaking. A kind
of superstitious fear of the redoubted Danes seems in some places to
have seized the common people; at least it is an acknowledged fact, that
in several parts of the country they continue to frighten children with
“the Danes.”
Similar ideas about the Danes are to be met with even among the more
enlightened portion of the people. Not long ago, it was a firm belief
among many educated men in Ireland, that there were still families in
Denmark, who could not forget the dominion they had formerly exercised
in Ireland, and who bore a title derived from the large estates which
their forefathers had once conquered and possessed there. It was
likewise commonly supposed that the Danes had carried with them from
Ireland a great number of manuscripts, which were said to be preserved
in one of the large collections of books in Copenhagen; as if, forsooth,
it had been one of the chief aims of the bold and dangerous expeditions
of the ancient Norwegians at that remote period, to carry off scientific
treasures, and above all, manuscripts written in Irish, and,
consequently, in a language that was for the most part entirely
incomprehensible to them. In the last century in particular, and at the
beginning of the present one, the Irish literati attributed to the
Danes, or rather to the Norwegians, much to which, strictly speaking,
they could have no valid claim.
The remarkable round towers, whose stone walls are built in so
workmanlike a manner, and which are so evidently of Christian
origin—being erected both as belfries, and as places of security for the
clergy, and certainly _against_ the Scandinavian Vikings and
conquerors—were nevertheless proclaimed to be “Danish towers.” The large
stone rooms, or sepulchral chambers in cairns, that are found in several
places in Ireland, as at New Grange, and which have so striking an
agreement with the sepulchral chambers in the Scandinavian North and
other countries, dating from the pre-historical, and so-called stone
age, were also called “Danish;” although we know from the Sagas, as well
as from the Irish chronicles, that the “Danes,” or rather the Norwegian
Vikings, sometimes opened these sepulchres, in order to take out any
treasure that might have been buried in them by the natives. In several
other instances, the Irish were not disinclined at times to regard the
Norwegian conquests in a somewhat too favourable light.
Recently, however, they have gone to the opposite extreme. Everything
possible that is bad, but nothing whatever that is good, is ascribed to
the Scandinavian conquerors. In Ireland, as in Scotland and England, it
is at present the commonly received opinion that the Norwegian
conquerors did nothing but plunder and burn, and thus annihilated a very
considerable civilization, which had prevailed in Ireland for centuries
before the Norwegian expeditions. The “Danes” are, besides, accused of
subverting the independence of Ireland, and of being the sole cause of
her subsequently coming under the dominion of England. It is remarkable
enough, however, that the Irish appear entirely to forget that the fault
must be ascribed to themselves. They were so divided, and at such
variance with one another, that, in spite of their vast numbers and
boasted civilization, they could not unite to resist a mere handful of
Scandinavians, who came from a great distance across the sea, and still
less could they resist their powerful English conquerors.
This change in the opinions commonly received in Ireland concerning the
Danish conquests has been effected more particularly by the late
political movements. It is but little known in the Scandinavian North
that, since the Repeal agitation in Ireland, the Danish conquests and
the Danish name have been used as a constant and effective means of
agitating against England; yet such is actually the case.
When O’Connell stepped forward as the mouth-piece of Irish nationality,
to revive the ancient independence of Ireland, and if possible to
restore its Parliament, by means of a repeal of the Union, it was of
course important for him to awaken in his countrymen a feeling of
freedom. With this design, he looked to Ireland’s earlier history, and
particularly to the period when she formed an independent kingdom. But
that time was extremely remote. As early as the close of the twelfth
century the English had firmly established themselves in Ireland; and
the Danes before them had, for several centuries, held dominion over the
most important places in that country. Had O’Connell, therefore, wished
to dwell on the time of Ireland’s real independence, he must have
reverted to a period more than a thousand years ago. But he shrewdly
foresaw that the vast and uneducated mass of the people, whom he chiefly
wished to agitate, would not be able to follow him. He therefore chose
historical events that lay nearer, and of which the remembrance still
lived among the people; and, as his chief aim was to irritate the Irish
against the “Saxons” (or English) he laid great stress upon the glory
which the Irish had acquired in former combats against that people, as
well as against the “Danes,” who had preceded them in conquering
Ireland.
Nothing could have been better adapted to O’Connell’s object than the
traditions and exaggerated notions about the Danes, still so widely
diffused among the poorer classes in Ireland. O’Connell knew how to
flatter with dexterity the vanity and self-love of the Irish, by
representing how great a triumph they had achieved in former times, by
driving out the Danes, and annihilating a dominion founded with so much
bravery and wisdom. If he drew no direct conclusion from this, he let
it, however, be sufficiently seen, that as the Irish were formerly able
to expel their Danish conquerors, there was nothing to prevent them from
chasing the hated “Saxons” from their coasts. At one of his great
meetings, held on Tara Hill, where the ancient Irish kings were crowned
in the time of Ireland’s independence, he reminded his countrymen that
their forefathers had, in the year 978, gained on that spot a
considerable victory over the “Danes.”
On the coast about three miles to the north-east of Dublin, is the plain
of Clontarf, where, in the year 1014, a great battle was fought between
the “Danes” and the Irish. This battle, one of the most sanguinary in
all the wars of the Norwegians and Irish, was gained by the latter,
whose king Brian Boroimha (or Brian Boru) fell just as victory declared
for his army. A victory over the Danes like this must naturally always
occupy a prominent place in the historical reminiscences of the Irish;
and their historians throughout the middle ages, and down to our own
times, have accordingly dwelt with extreme complacency on the
description of the bravery of the Irish and of their king. But it did
not suffice O’Connell and his followers to adhere to historical
realities. They followed the chroniclers of a later period, by whom the
victory of Clontarf has been delineated in far too brilliant colours. In
songs, pamphlets, and speeches, the battle of Clontarf was now
represented as having completely annihilated the Danish power in
Ireland, and saved her independence and freedom. According to these
accounts, not a single Dane or Norwegian would seem to have remained in
Ireland after the battle. Brian Boroimha (Boru) was extolled to the
skies, as a martyr for the deliverance of his country from the yoke of
the oppressors. And in the intoxication of enthusiasm thus produced, his
portrait, together with a picture of the battle of Clontarf, was
distributed among the people in immense quantities, and at the very
lowest price. On the tickets of members of the Repeal Association, which
were ornamented with the names of the most important national triumphs
of the Irish, as well as with portraits of the victors, the battle of
Clontarf, and Brian Boru’s portrait, stood at the top.
When at length this representation of the battle of Clontarf, as one of
the most important fought by Ireland for liberty, had been so impressed
upon the common people that it seemed an event which had only recently
taken place—and which, at least in the lively imaginations of the Irish,
might possibly enough be repeated—O’Connell gave out that he would hold
a great repeal meeting on the plain of Clontarf. Everybody knew
beforehand that the real meaning of O’Connell’s speech was, that just as
the Irish, with Brian Boroimha at their head, had formerly defeated the
Danes on that very place, and thus saved Ireland’s freedom, so should
they now in like manner follow O’Connell (who, besides, gave himself out
for a descendant of Brian Boru[?]), and make every sacrifice to wrest
back their lost independence from English, or “Saxon,” ascendancy. The
English government, however, forbade the meeting, and indicted
O’Connell. But the same extravagant notions respecting the national
importance of the battle of Clontarf naturally continued to be generally
received; and that not only amongst the adherents of O’Connell, or “Old
Irelanders,” as they are called, but also among the members of a
political party, the “Young Irelanders,” which has arisen since, and
whose aim it is to sever the connection with England by open force. In
the seditious songs of both these parties the Danes and the English
generally share the same fate, as the war-cry, “The Saxon and the Dane,”
constantly forms the burthen of the songs. It is but very rarely that an
Irish repealer (for instance, Mr. Holmes) dares venture to express an
opinion that it would probably have been no detriment to Ireland if the
“Danes” had remained settled there. This, when explained, means that the
Danes would never have been so dangerous to the independence of Ireland
as the English have since become; and that the Irish, united with and
assisted by the Danes, would certainly have had a fleet capable of
resisting any attacks of their powerful English neighbours(?).
----------
SECTION II.
Irish and Scandinavian Records.—Finn Lochlannoch.—Dubh-Lochlannoch.—The
Names of the Provinces.
One of the many complaints made by the Irish against the Danes, and
particularly of late, is, that by destroying Irish civilization they
likewise choked the vigorous germs of a national literature, which, in
consequence of the early introduction of Christianity, had begun at a
very early period to take root among the Irish people. The existence of
a literature, particularly like the ancient Irish, in the vernacular
language of the country, must of course always afford a strong proof of
a certain degree of education among the people. During the late
political agitation in Ireland, the old Irish literature, of which
various remains are still preserved, was therefore extravagantly
extolled, with the view of proving how glorious and enlightened was the
age of Ireland’s long-vanished independence.
Whatever opinion may be formed of the remaining relics of this ancient
literature, which are mostly limited to chronicles in the form of
annals, and a few old songs, it is at all events agreed that they are of
very peculiar importance as regards a knowledge of the Norwegian and
Danish expeditions. It is true that the Scandinavian Sagas and
chronicles contain many accounts of the achievements of the Norwegians
in Ireland, both in war and peace; but the Irish records of them are
still more copious. The oldest Irish chronicles relate almost as much to
the battles of the Norwegians and Danes with the Irish, as to the
internal state of Ireland. A singular chronicle in Irish, of the close
of the eleventh century, about “the Wars of the Irish and the Northmen,”
was discovered a few years ago. It contains not only a complete account
of every battle between the Irish and Northmen, down to that of
Clontarf, but also various information respecting the settlements of the
Norwegians in Ireland, their mode of warfare, weapons, &c. That this
chronicle must have been composed not long after the battle of Clontarf,
is proved by the fact that it is referred to as an old record in another
Irish work, called “The Book of Leinster,” written in the first half of
the twelfth century. The above-named ancient chronicle—the publication
of which, by that distinguished Irish scholar, Dr. Todd, cannot be far
distant—will, in conjunction with the rest of the Irish accounts
relative to the Norwegian expeditions into Ireland, afford an excellent
opportunity for comparison with the narratives of our Scandinavian
Sagas. Meanwhile we have already sufficient information at hand to
compare the accounts of the conquerors and the conquered—a method by
which the historical truth will evidently come forth more clearly than
if we were obliged to adopt exclusively the one-sided statements of
either party.