Book 1 — CHAPTER I. DENMARK. (continued 5)

|1022 to 1023.|

When Olaf found that the old religion maintained its sway among the inhabitants generally, he had 265always recourse to the same policy: he collected troops, marched to the place, sent forth his staff, which was the signal for the people to meet in the public Thing, just as the arrow was the signal of war; and proposed the alternative of a battle or conversion. But it sometimes happened that the arrow had been sent out before his arrival, and that the people were assembled in numbers too great for him to attack with safety. Thus, in the diet of Valders, when the proceedings were opened, and the king began to talk of conversion, he was immediately enjoined silence; nor would this have been the worst result, had he not been cunning enough to call upon the legal disputants to lay their cases before him for adjudication. In a moment the tumult was hushed; each party who was or fancied himself aggrieved began to complain, and the king was occupied the whole of the day in giving his decisions. The following days he laid waste their territory with fire and sword—fine occupation for their monarch! To protect their property the men assembled in arms; but as Olaf transferred his hostilities from place to place, no large body could be collected together; or, if it were, it soon dissolved itself. Hence he was able to assail them in succession, and force them to submission. The use which he made of his victory was the same as on other occasions; he baptized, hung, maimed, banished, fined, and returned to his capital in the belief that he had done Heaven much service.^[249]

|1026 to 1027.|

But from these conversions—these persecutions—Olaf was at length diverted by the report that Canute the Great, king of England and Denmark, was preparing to assert his rights to Norway. Why so ambitious a monarch as the Dane had so long delayed the vindication of his claim is not easily explained: England had been long tranquil, and from Denmark no commotion was to be dreaded. Whatever the motives of his inactivity, he never forgot that Norway had been 266subdued by his father. In 1025 he asserted his claim through his ambassadors, who saw king Olaf at Tunsberg. Norway, he said, was his by the right of conquest, and that right he should not renounce; but, as he was averse to the shedding of blood, he would acknowledge Olaf as king if the latter would do him homage, and pay him the same tribute as the jarls had paid. The reply of Olaf was, that he would pay no tribute, but defend Norway to the last extremity. Knowing that the cloud of invasion must burst upon him, he selected and obtained the alliance of Sweden. Olaf was no more; but Omund (or Emund) was not inattentive to the connection which bound the royal families of the two kingdoms. To arrange the means of defence the two kings met in Gothland, and lost no time in preparing their vessels for service. As Canute delayed the threatened expedition much longer than was expected, they were unwilling to keep their armaments idle, and they assumed the aggressive,—Olaf choosing the Danish islands, especially Zealand, as the scene of his depredations; Omund preferring the nearer province of Scania. In a short time, however, they joined their fleets, and continued their ravages. The summer being past and no enemy appearing, Omund returned to Sweden,—leaving, however, a portion of his fleet under the orders of Olaf. When Canute heard of these ravages, he hastened his preparations. Another subject, too, made him anxious to revisit Denmark. The Danes were dissatisfied with the absence of their monarch. From the foundation of the state, never had they been without a present chief—often with many—to defend their coasts against the piratical kings of the north. Now that Olaf and Omund were assailing them with impunity, their complaints became the louder. To appease them, Ulf, the brother-in-law of Canute, and the most powerful of the Danish nobles, had recourse to a bold imposture; he produced forged letters, which he alleged came from Canute, commanding the states to recognise his son 267Harda Canute as king of Denmark. The motive which led him to this step is obvious. The prince was only ten years of age, and the regency must necessarily rest with him. How he expected to escape the vengeance of his monarch is surprising: probably he looked for impunity to the unanimous voice of Denmark, and to the interference of Emma, the queen, who had sanctioned the plot, and transmitted her husband’s signet to him. Seeing the royal seal, the people immediately proclaimed the young prince. Both Ulf and Harda Canute soon repented of the step. Two kings were ravaging their coasts: Canute only could defend them; and his arrival might soon be expected. To avert his anger, they supplicated the queen to employ her influence in their behalf; and, after some entreaty, the monarch agreed that if Harda Canute and the jarl would apply to him for pardon, and lay the usurped crown at his feet, he would exact no vengeance for the past. Accordingly, both proceeded to England, knelt before him, and humbly entreated his forgiveness. The royal child was heartily, Ulf reluctantly pardoned,—if that can be called pardon, when a secret determination is made to destroy the object whenever a new occasion shall be presented. To extinguish the last spark of this rebellion, no less than to chastise the presumption of the two northern kings, he sailed for the north.^[250]

|1027.|

When Canute arrived in the Baltic, he found that Scania was ravaged by the combined fleets of Norway and Sweden. In a naval battle off that coast he had a hard struggle, but, in the end, had so far the advantage that he compelled the enemy to retire. After this partial success, he did not forget Ulf the jarl. Inviting that noble to a feast at Roskilda, the latter endeavoured, by mirthful conversation, to dissipate the gloom which hung on the countenance of the monarch. The chessboard was introduced, and, in the game which followed, 268the anger of Canute was still further increased. The jarl took one of the king’s knights; but the king took it back again, and, in a hasty tone, bid Ulf not play in that manner. One of this chief’s worst characteristics was an irritable temper, which he could not always control, even in the presence of his lord. He not only struck the table with much anger, but rose to leave the apartment. “Coward! dost thou flee?” cried the insulted king. “Thou wouldst have fled farther,” replied the jarl, “but for me. Was I a coward in the late action at the mouth of the Helge, when I bore aid to thee, whom the Swedes were beating like a dog?” These rash words sealed his fate. Though he took refuge in the cathedral, the next morning the monarch ordered him to be slain; and the deed was perpetrated in the choir. For this action, the royal assassin had thenceforth no peace; remorse was his daily companion: to allay it he became a benefactor to the church, and undertook a pilgrimage to Rome.^[251]

|1027 to 1028.|

Winter approaching, Omund of Sweden returned home with his armament. For some time longer, Olaf remained to watch the motions of the Danes; but he had some reason to know that a spirit of discontent prevailed among his followers. When summoned to the council their opinions were divided, in cases where unanimity was most required. It was evident that some of them were bought by Canute’s gold, or by the hope of his favour. Many, too, of the Norwegians even—the bravest of that nation—were in the armament of the Dane. As so little dependence was, after Omund’s departure, to be placed in his fleet, Olaf sent it to the Swedish ports, and returned, by way of West Gothland, into Vikia. At Sarfsburg he determined to pass the winter; and he endeavoured, by presents, to secure the attachment of his chief nobles; but he found that his own partisans were fewer, and those of his enemy more numerous, than he had anticipated. In some districts he could not 269venture without a strong armed force. As he dared not venture into the north, and was unsafe in the uplands, he proceeded to Tunsberg; from thence he despatched messengers into all the provinces, to hasten the levy of ships and men. Those in his immediate neighbourhood obeyed his mandate, rather through fear than love; by the more distant provinces it was derided. That the hearts of the people were not with him was manifest; the great preparations of Canute, which resounded throughout the kingdom, were either beheld with indifference, or openly desired. To what causes must this almost universal defection be ascribed? Undoubtedly to many. By the admirers of this king—that is, by the Roman Catholics—it has been contended, that the chief was the attachment of the Norwegians to their ancient idolatry. That this was a great cause cannot be disputed; but we may hesitate before we admit it as the principal. Olaf Trygveson was no less zealous than he; yet that monarch was in no danger from a foreign invader, and, to the very last, was supported by a loyal people. The truth is, Olaf the Saint had turned his friends into enemies, by the capriciousness of his conduct. If his predecessor was a furious bigot, he was, at least, beloved by his immediate attendants, and feared by his people. To his domestics the saint was often austere, not very liberal, and frequently tyrannical. In proof of this, we may adduce the confession of his greatest favourites, that, whatever the urgency of the occasion, they dared not awake him when asleep.^[252] The man who thus inspired fear, even in his own palace, could not be loved. Then he was rigid, imprudently rigid, in the administration of justice. It was, indeed, better to err on this side than on that of laxity; still he should have made some allowance for times and circumstances, and have been satisfied with pecuniary mulcts where he exacted mutilation or death. Add, that he had not the commanding talents of the son of Trygve; that he was frequently 270fickle alike in his attachments and designs; that he was oppressive in his exactions; that he violated the pledges which he had given to respect the privileges of the native chiefs; and we have the key to the universal disaffection of which he was soon to become the victim.^[253]

|1028 to 1029.|

In the spring of 1028, Canute, with a powerful armament, sailed for Norway. Disembarking on the coast of Agder, he commanded the people to assemble in a provincial Thing,—a command which was promptly obeyed. Here he was acknowledged king of Norway, and no voice was raised against his election. On his way to Nidaros,—the modern Drontheim,—wherever he landed the people flocked in multitudes to receive him, and to pay him homage. On reaching that city, where Olaf had so much resided, and where he was so much detested, Canute was joyfully acknowledged the sole monarch of the country. During all this time, Olaf remained at Tunsberg, in the vain expectation of succour from some portion of his subjects. At length he sailed round the southern coast, rather as a spy than a monarch; and he had the satisfaction of vanquishing one of his rebellious jarls: but this was no advantage, for it exasperated the kindred of the fallen chief, who forced him precipitately to retire. Proceeding northward, he found that his own subjects (Canute had returned to Denmark in the full confidence that the new conquest was secure) were on the deep to intercept him. As their force was so much superior to his, he hastily disembarked, in the resolution to pass overland into Sweden. But the project was not without danger; every moment the countrymen might rise and deliver him into the hands of his enemies. To escape this evil he traversed the most solitary paths, with a celerity to which his fear gave additional wings. Continuing his way into the dales and Hedmark, he had some reason to fear for his life. Though he had many kinsmen in 271the uplands, the majority of the people were his enemies, and were ready to seize him. As yet, however, he had a considerable guard,—about 300 men,—and open force, in a rural, secluded district, might be resisted. But when he perceived that his followers were daily diminishing, he had no alternative but to flee into Sweden. Hako the jarl, Canute’s lieutenant for the whole of Norway, would soon pursue him; and expedition was therefore doubly necessary. Accompanied by his queen, Astridda, and a few companions whose fidelity no misfortunes could shake, he passed into Vermeland, and was thus free from the apprehension of pursuit. His expedition saved him; for had he remained any longer in Norway he must have fallen into the hands of the jarl Hako, who was pursuing him with a force which he could not have resisted. There he passed the winter. When summer arrived, leaving his queen and his daughter in Sweden, he proceeded to Holmgard in Gardarik, to solicit the aid of the king, or rather of Ingigerda the queen.^[254]

|1029.|

By the king and queen of Holmgard the regal fugitive was received with much hospitality. Seeing the distraction of Norway, they endeavoured, by the offer of a considerable province, to prevail on him to remain in the country. This would have been his wisest policy; but his heart yearned to the country of his birth, and he indulged the hope of being recalled by his subjects. His was not a strong mind; but in devotion—or we should rather say in the external offices of his church—he sought for consolation. But ambition was his prevailing quality. Night and day he meditated the means of returning; and, with a mind so impressed, we cannot be surprised that his dreams assumed the colour of his waking thoughts. A royal shade accosted him, exhorted him to return, and promised him success. Had Olaf been an enlightened man, or known much of that religion which he so 272zealously professed, he would have understood that a vision recommending all the horrors of civil war could not be from heaven. In about a year he left Gardarik, and sailed to Sweden. Here he learned that Hako the jarl was dead, and no successor yet nominated by Canute. This he thought a favourable opportunity for the vindication of his rights, and he proceeded to the Swedish court to solicit aid. By Emund he was nobly received; but the information which reached him from Norway did not induce him to hasten his departure. When the local governors heard of his arrival in Sweden, they sent forth the arrow of war, in the determination of resisting his entrance. The spies whom he sent into the country were unanimous in their report that the popular mind was indisposed to him,—that he should abandon the intention of returning. These representations, however, were counterbalanced by his hopes: in a few months after his arrival in Sweden, he procured 400 men from Emund, with permission to raise as many more as chose to join him, and proceeded through the centre of Sweden towards Norway.^[255]

|1030.|

On the confines of that kingdom, being joined by his kindred and their vassals, he found that his whole force amounted to 1200 men. With this force, had there existed any attachment to his cause, he might have triumphed; but as he proceeded through the northern districts of Drontheim, nobody joined him. In some places, indeed, he forced the inhabitants to assemble, and compelled those who were still pagan to receive baptism. Thus the time which he should have turned to his advantage he lost by his injudicious zeal, and thereby afforded his enemies leisure to organise the means of resistance. In another respect he was less imprudent. Seeing the refusal of the countrymen to join him, he was exhorted by his followers, of whom many were Swedish banditti, to burn their houses, to 273lay waste their fields, to cut them down wherever they could be found. He had the humanity to refuse his sanction to this atrocious proposal. He had, he said, one regal prerogative left,—the power of forgiving. On entering the district of Sticklestadt, he perceived a large force drawn up to oppose him. Arranging his own followers in order of battle, he exhorted them to fight manfully for their religion, their king, their families. On the other, Sigurd, the bishop, who was in the army of Canute, no less strongly exhorted his party to drive this invader from the kingdom. The character which the prelate drew of that monarch was not an enviable one. From his youth he had been remarkable for his robberies and executions; he had exiled or put to death the noblest of his chiefs; he had acted with singular treachery towards the upland kings,—whose privileges, contrary to his solemn pledges, he had violated, and whose persons he had afterwards mutilated; to all men, high or low, he had been tyrannical; he had lost all his friends; and he was now followed only by the enemies of Norway, or by professed bandits. This description was not overcharged, and it may be admitted as a fair estimate of his character. The battle now engaged, and Olaf fought with much courage; but in the end he fell, and most of his kinsmen with him.^[256]

That the moral portrait of Olaf may be finished, and his claims to sanctity appreciated, we have yet to add that he had a concubine, and by her a bastard,—Magnus the Good,—four years after his marriage with Astridda. The circumstances connected with the birth of this prince are worthy of relation. Alfhilda, the royal concubine, was observed to be pregnant; and everybody knew that this was the result of her intercourse with Olaf. One night she was seized by the pains of labour, which were unusually severe; both her life and that of her infant were despaired of before it was brought into the world. Even after that event, 274so precarious was its existence, that the priest who was present insisted on its immediate baptism, and desired Sigvat the poet to awake the king for the purpose of knowing what name was to be given it. Nothing can better illustrate the tyranny of Olaf than the fact that Sigvat, favourite as he had long been, durst not fulfil this commission, at a time when mother and child were apparently on the brink of the grave. “Who dares awake him?” replied Sigvat. “But the infant must be baptized,” rejoined the priest. “I would rather incur the responsibility of naming the child,” said the poet, “than of awaking the king.” The name was Magnus. The next morning Olaf was in a great rage with Sigvat, whom he summoned before him, and asked how he could have the presumption to impose a name on his royal son. “Was it not better,” replied the poet, “to give the child to God rather than to the devil? Had he died without baptism, he must have been the devil’s. For my boldness I can but lose my head; and, if I do so, I must trust to God’s mercy!” “But why didst thou call the child Magnus?” demanded Olaf: “I have no kindred of that name.” “Because it was the name of Charlemagne.” “Thou art a fortunate man,” said the king. “Nor is this strange, as fortune is the companion of wisdom. Yet it is strange when the imprudent man turns his very rashness into the source of advantage.” In the sequel this Magnus became king of Norway.^[257]

As nobody can be admitted into the calendar of saints without the operation of miracles, which the church requires as evidence of sanctity, we may be prepared for those of Olaf. That he healed incurable diseases, restored sight to the blind, assisted the warriors who invoked his aid, is asserted by the gravest Icelandic writers. One which we give in the Appendix, and which is by far the most imaginative of the number^[258] may enable the reader to judge of what materials they consist. The 275sanctity of Olaf rests on a foundation of equal solidity with his miracles. Yet all the Roman Catholics in Europe are taught, from their infancy, to believe in both. How far his character, as given in the text, agrees with that which Alban Butler has drawn from that immense heap of rubbish, the Acta Sanctorum, may also be seen in the Appendix.^[259]

276

CHAP. IV. MARITIME EXPEDITIONS OF THE NORTHMEN DURING THE PAGAN TIMES.

SECTION I. IN ENGLAND, FRANCE, AND IRELAND.

EARLY EXPEDITIONS OF THE NORTHMEN TO THE COASTS OF THE ROMAN PROVINCES.—CAUSES WHICH LED TO THEM.—POVERTY OF THE SOIL, FAMINE, COURAGE.—DOMESTIC PIRACY.—TRIBES OF PIRATES.—INVASION OF ENGLAND BY THE SAXONS AND DANES.—AUTHORITY OF SAXO GRAMMATICUS.—DEPREDATIONS IN ENGLAND PRIOR TO THE REIGN OF ATHELSTANE.—VICTORY OF THAT MONARCH.—RAVAGES OF THE NORTHMEN IN FRANCE.—HASTINGS.—ROLLO THE GREATEST OF THE SCANDINAVIAN PIRATES.—HIS CONQUEST OF NORMANDY, OF WHICH HE WAS THE FIRST DUKE.—THE NORTHMEN IN IRELAND.—EARLY COMMUNICATION BETWEEN THE IRISH AND THE NORTH OF EUROPE.—FIRST RAVAGES OF THE NORTHMEN.—THEIR ALARMING PROGRESS IN THAT ISLAND.—VICTORY OBTAINED OVER THEM BY KING BRIAN.—THEIR SUBSEQUENT DEPREDATIONS AND DECLINE.

That the expeditions of the Northmen were not confined to the shores of the Baltic, long before the period which is usually assigned to them, is evident from the whole course of the later Roman history. During the domination of the empire in Gaul and Britain, the local governors, whatever their zeal, were unable to prevent the depredations which the maritime inhabitants of Friesland and Jutland made on the more southern coasts. The Saxons and Franks were among the earliest pirates of the north. In the third century we find them on the coast of Gaul; in the fourth and fifth, they were no less troublesome on that of Britain. Even from the time of Cæsar, the tribes on the maritime coast, from the mouths of the Rhine to the Baltic Sea, 277were beginning to learn the piratical life. Their position was highly favourable to such pursuits. Located in the vicinity of rivers, friths, and bays, where the soil is unproductive, their wants must have led them to regions where Nature was more lavish of her gifts. This was more especially the case of the people on the sandy shores of Friesland and the Baltic; and, in those regions, they become pirates, just as the Arabs become robbers,—from necessity. But other causes were also at work, and probably at a period still earlier. Amidst the endless migrations of the barbarous tribes who occupied central and northern Europe, the impulse must have been extended to more distant shores. When, for instance, Asiatic Scythia sent forth her swarms to conquer and to colonise, the original inhabitants either bent their necks to the new yoke, or escaped from it by retiring farther to the west. Those of Scandinavia were compelled to look for settlements in the south; and this object could only be obtained by means of ships. There is reason to believe that these emigrations, or maritime expeditions, came to our own islands before the birth of Christ; this, indeed, is expressly affirmed by Bede, who mentions the first arrival of the Picts in these islands. They came, he informs us, from Scythia; and, sailing round the southern coast of Britain, landed on that of Ireland, where the Scots were then settled. As there was not room for both people, the new comers, in conformity with the advice of the Scots, proceeded to the opposite shores, viz., those of Galloway and Argyle. This could not have been a solitary immigration into these islands; the Scots themselves were a conquering and a new tribe when the Picts arrived. If this is true of the western, it is still more so of the eastern, coasts of England and Scotland, especially of the latter. Danish expeditions, before our Saviour’s birth, are frequently mentioned by Saxo; and, absurd as his chronology often is, we think that there is some foundation for his statement, corroborated as it is by that of Bede. But we must not lose sight of the fact, that the two 278writers are speaking of events in themselves dissimilar. Bede alludes to the emigration of whole tribes, Saxo to piratical expeditions.^[260]

That at a barbarous period, when agriculture was little understood, and in barren countries, where the greatest industry was unavailing, there must have been many seasons of famine, would be admitted, if it were not supported by the positive testimony of history. When they arrived, the younger and more vigorous class of the people naturally betook themselves to more southern regions. He that once visited those regions, would be in no hurry to return. The long duration of winter, the uncertainty of an early spring, the coldness and humidity of the atmosphere, which often prevented the fruits of the earth from arriving at maturity, must have appeared to striking disadvantage when contrasted with the greater regularity of seasons in the south. Nor was this the worst. The north was covered with endless forests, or with extensive fens, or with bleak mountains, where industry might labour in vain; in the south, nature produced, with small labour, what was necessary for the support of man. Since, in the former, wars between one tribe and another were of so frequent occurrence, the condition of the people must have been dreadful; they must have been often thinned by famine. Hence the expatriations, whether voluntary or compulsory, of which we read so much in the ancient history of the north. One of the earliest on record is that which took place under Snio, a prince of Jutland. A sore famine arriving, he published an edict, that, to economise the grain, none should be used in the brewing of beer. But this law was ineffectual; the people were too fond of indulging in the beverage to be thus forced; and a national Thing was convoked to devise the means of public safety. That a law was passed for the destruction of the old, the very young, and those unable to carry arms, or to cultivate the ground, is affirmed by 279several writers; but the statement is incredible. There is greater truth in another,—that banishment was substituted, and lots were cast to determine the individuals. Sweden furnishes us with a second instance, though not so ancient as the preceding. We have already seen that, during the pressure of a famine, Olaf Trætelia was sacrificed to the gods.^[261] The remedy, however, was unavailing; the scourge became still greater, and the people removed into Norway. Two centuries after this period, one third of the Danes, says Peter Olaf, were thus driven into exile; and they selected Prussia, Carelia, Samogitia, and other shores of the Baltic, as their future abodes. This evil was more ancient than we usually suppose. We find laws, permitting the exposure of infants where the parents were unable to support them, before Christianity was known to the Franks, or Bavarians, or Swabians, or any other of the Germanic tribes. Where no temporary law was made for the expatriation of a certain number of the people, the more adventurous would often retire of their own accord. The Scandinavians were no strangers to the sea; from their childhood they were accustomed to fish in their bays, gulfs, mouths of rivers, and other parts of their coasts. This exercise made them familiar with the management of small vessels, and led them to regard the watery element as no less friendly than land. As they became inured to the business, and extended their voyages, they learned where particular species of fish were most abundant. It is probable that at a very early period all the coasts of the Baltic were thus visited.^[262]

These circumstances combined will explain the superior dexterity of the Scandinavians and other Baltic nations in the management of vessels. If want of subsistence led them to the deep, whether through expatriation, or the hope of successful fishing, other 280causes made them pirates. It was easier to take a vessel well laden with that useful commodity than to catch it; and when, in these practices, the crew of one hostile tribe met the crew of another, a battle was sure to follow. By degrees, vessels for piracy alone were equipped; nor were the objects of plunder confined to fish: the houses near the sea-coasts had other articles of food, other commodities, which would enrich the pirate’s home. The dangers attending a profession where the crews were necessarily armed, were not likely to damp the spirit of adventure. Courage was a part of the Northman’s religion; death in battle was a good, since it introduced him at once to the enjoyments of Odin’s hall,—enjoyments far exceeding whatever this world could furnish. Piracy, then, was the necessary result of the Scandinavian’s position; and it must have been practised more anciently than most historians admit. Tacitus tells us that in his time the Suiones were formidable by their fleets. Navigation, indeed, could not be in its infancy, when such colonies as that of the Picts undertook voyages so long and hazardous. It could not be in its infancy during the third century, when Caransius was nominated by the Roman authorities of Gaul to protect, at the head of a powerful fleet, the coasts daily menaced by the barbarians.^[263]

That domestic piracy—viz., piracy confined to their own coast—distinguished the Scandinavians long before their expeditions into the south, is undoubted. First, they had to struggle with the hostile races who had preceded them in the north,—whom on their arrival they had to dislodge, and who for so many ages preserved a vindictive remembrance of the outrage. The Goth and the Finn must have been enemies from the beginning; and both must have been equally hostile to the Vends, a Slavonic tribe of Pomerania, much addicted to piracy. Position, no less than race, made tribes hereditary enemies. The Frisons and the Saxons were rivals, and therefore enemies; 281so were the Swedes and the Danes; so were the Scanians and Norwegians. Their fleets watched the coasts of each other, ready to fight it whenever the opportunity was presented. Thus, while the Norwegians were delighted in making predatory irruptions into Quenaland, which was inhabited by Finns, the Vends were harassing the Danes, and the Jutes the Saxons. In the fifth century—how long before we have not individual instances to select—the Vends were powerful enough to infuse terror into the whole of Denmark. Ismar, their king, ravaged Fionia, defeated king Sivar, and took prince Jarmeric captive. In the sixth century, a Slavonian fleet was defeated by Halfdan, king of Scania. Saxo is full of maritime contests between the two people; and though his chronology is wrong, the facts themselves are indisputable. In general, the Vends exceeded the Scandinavians in ferocity. Both had great advantages for maritime adventures. Lithuania, Esthonia, and Livonia were as well provided with timber as Norway or Sweden; and each country had a multitude of natural bays and creeks, where refuge could be sought when the tempest was severe, or when an enemy appeared too formidable to be resisted.^[264]

But the coasts of the Roman provinces offered the greatest inducements to piracy. They were Saxons and Franks whom Caransius had chiefly to oppose. In the following century, they were more formidable to the local governors. “In the beginning of the fourth century,” says Turner, in his valuable history of the Anglo-Saxons, “the Saxons were not alone on the ocean; other states, both to the south and north of their own locality, were moving in concert with them, whose nominal distinctions were lost in the Saxon name. This addition of strength multiplied the Saxon fleets, gave new terror to their hostility, and recruited their losses with perpetual population. The league extended. Their depredations 282increased their population, affluence, and celebrity; and these results extended their power. What emulation, policy, or rapacity may have first prompted, success and fear made more universal. They who would not have been tempted to unite, dreaded the wrath of those whose proffered alliance they refused: and at length most of the nations north of the Rhine assumed the name, strengthened the association, and fought to augment the predominance of the Saxons. Towards the south, between the Elbe and the Rhine, the Chauci seem to have led the way. The Frisii, urged by kindred passion and a convenient position, willingly followed. The precise date of the accession of others is not so clear; but in some period of their power, the Chamavi, and at last the Batavi, the Toxandri, and Morini, were in their alliance. North of their territorial position the Cimbri, the Jutes, the Angles, and others not so discernible, added their numbers to the formidable league; which lasted until their expedition to Britain, and then began to dissolve. Without detaining the reader by a detail of the modern chorography answering to the position of these tribes, it may be sufficient to state, concisely, that the progress and leagues of the Saxon states enlarged gradually from the Elbe to the Weser; from the Weser they reached to the Ems; and, still augmenting, they diffused themselves to the Rhine with varying latitude, as the Franks, many of whose allies they seduced, quitting that region, and abandoning their exploits on the ocean, marched upon Gaul. The extension of this new confederation was favoured by the change of policy and position adopted by the Franks. As this people stood foremost to the Roman vengeance, they experienced its effects. They had many distressing wars to maintain, which in time compelled them to abandon maritime expeditions, and to consolidate their strength for their continental conflicts. Their ultimate successes made this warfare the most popular among them. Hence, the nearer we approach the period of the invasion of England, we 283find the Franks less and less united with the Saxons on the ocean, and even wars begin to be frequent between the rival friends. As the former moved onward, to the conquests of Belgium and Gaul, the Saxons appear to have been the only nation, under whose name the vessels of piracy were navigated. Saxons were the enemies every where execrated, though under this title several nations fought. Some of the tribes on the maritime coast, who had composed the league of the Franks, abandoned it, to share the easier warfare and ampler booty of the Saxons. At last this successful people diffused themselves into the interior of Germany so victoriously, that the vast tracts of country embraced by the Elbe, the Sala, and the Rhine, became subjected to their power, in addition to their ancient territory from the Elbe to the Eyder. An old Belgic chronicle, in rhyme, makes Neder Sassen, Lower Saxony, to have been confined by the Scheid and the Meuse; but this is a larger extent than others admit.”^[265]

In contemplating the piratical expeditions or maritime conquests of the Northmen, during the pagan age, greater clearness will be attained by classing them under the head of each country visited by those people.

1. Britain. The Jutes and the Angles were the most prominent allies of the Saxons. The league was joined by other people of the north,—by adventurous Danes no less than Slavonic Pomeranians. At the head of maritime forces so numerous and so powerful, the Saxons became dreadful scourges to Gaul and Britain. “In the latter country, their depredations were rendered more secure by the frequent irruptions of the Picts and Scots into the northern counties, who, like them, were joined in a confederation. Had the Saxons or the Picts been left to their own efforts, the Roman governors would not have been so much pressed by the pirates as they were from the fourth century downwards. In a similar combination of hostilities, Nectaridus, the commander of the Saxon shore, was slain, and the 284general of the island, Fullo-faudes, perished in an ambush. Several officers were sent by the Roman emperors to succeed them; but their exertions being inadequate to the necessity, Theodosius, an experienced and successful leader, was appointed by Valentinian in their room. The Picts and the co-operating tribes attacked from the north, while the Saxons and their allies assaulted the maritime coasts. Theodosius, from Richborough, marched towards London, and dividing his army into battalions, correspondent to the positions of the enemies, he attacked the robbers encumbered with their plunder. The bands that were carrying away the manacled inhabitants and their cattle, he destroyed, and regained the spoil; of this he distributed a small share among his wearied soldiers; the residue he restored to its owners, and entered the city, wondering at its sudden deliverance, with the glories of an ovation. Lessoned by experience, and instructed by the confessions of the captives and deserters, he combated this mixture of enemies, with well-combined artifice and unexpected attacks. To recall those who in the confusion, from fear or from cowardice, had abandoned their ranks or their allegiance, he proclaimed an amnesty; and to complete the benefit he had begun, he prosecuted the war with vigour in the north of Britain. He prevented, by judicious movements, the meditated attack; and hence the Orkneys became the scene of his triumphs. The Saxons, strong in their numbers and intrepidity, sustained several naval encounters before they yielded to his genius. They ceased at last to molest the tranquillity of Britain; and the addition of a deserved surname, Saxonicus, proclaimed the service of Theodosius. He added the province of Valentia to Roman Britain, restored the deserted garrisons, and coerced the unruly borderers by judicious stations, and a vigilant defence. The Saxon confederation might be defeated, but was not subdued. Such was its power, that they were now bold enough to defy the Roman armies by land, and invaded the regions on the Rhine with a 285formidable force. The imperial general was unable to repulse them; a reinforcement encouraged him. The Saxons declined a battle, and sued for an amicable accommodation. It was granted. A number of the youth fit for war were given to the Romans to augment their armies; the rest were to retire unmolested. The Romans were not ashamed to confess their dread of the invaders, by a perfidious violation of the treaty. They attacked the retreating Saxons from an ambush; and, after a brave resistance, the unguarded barbarians were slain or made prisoners. It is to the disgrace of literature that the national historian of the day has presumed, while he records, to apologise for the ignominious fraud. Such an action might dishonourably gain a temporary advantage, but it could only exasperate the Saxon nation. The loss was soon repaired in the natural progress of population, and before many years elapsed, they renewed their depredations, and defeated Maximus. At the close of the fourth century they exercised the activity and resources of Stilicho. The unequal struggle is commemorated by the encomiastical poet, whose genius gilds, with a departing ray, the darkening hemisphere of Rome. After his death the Saxons commenced new irruptions. They supported the Armorici in their rebellion, awed the Gothic Euric, began to war with the Franks, and, extending the theatre of their spoil, made Belgium, Gaul, Italy, and Germany tremble at their presence.” It must be remembered that under the word Saxons many tribes were included,—those of Denmark as well as those of Holstein.^[266]

|408.|

The settlement of the Saxons, the Angles, and the Jutes—all comprehended within the geographical limits of Denmark—in Great Britain, has been recorded in two historical volumes of the Cyclopædia.^[267] Thus, in 446, Hengest laid the foundation of the kingdom 286of Kent, which, under eighteen successive kings, subsisted to the close of the eighth century. In 477, Ella, another Saxon chief, called a smaller one, that of Sussex, into existence. Of this state the names of the two first princes only have descended to posterity. In 519, the more powerful kingdom of Wessex was founded by Cerdic, and its princes were destined to unite the other states into one monarchy within three centuries after its establishment. By Ida, the kingdom of Bernicia was founded in 547; By Ella, that of Deira, in 560. These states, being united in 644, formed the important kingdom of Northumberland, which subsisted, with some interruptions, until it was finally annexed, by Athelstane, to the Saxon monarchy. Mercia, founded, in 586, by Crida; East Anglia, by Uffa; and Essex, by Eswin; were all ultimately absorbed in the rising sphere of Wessex. All these royal chiefs boasted of their descent from Odin; all were of Scandinavian origin; all spoke the same language, and followed the same piratical profession. That hordes of obscure adventurers—mere sea kings—should thus subdue a great country, has been matter of surprise to many writers. But we should remember that, at the period in question, England was not a monarchy,—that, like the north, it was subject to many kings, and that the conquest occupied a century and a half.^[268]

That during this period the Danes, if not the Norwegians, were brought into relation with the kings of Scotland, is asserted by Saxo. Frode III., according to that historian, gave his daughter Ulvilda in marriage to Thubar king of the Scots. Frode reigned in the fourth century, not, as Saxo assures us, early in the first. Whether Hamlet of Jutland, and other Danish princes, were really in Scotland, cannot be proved; but there is nothing improbable in the relation. That country, like England and the north, was divided among many chiefs, who assumed the regal title; and that their domains should escape the depredations which so 287afflicted the southern part of the island, is not to be credited. Beyond all doubt, Scotland was visited by piratical bands as early, at least, as England. Nor must we forget that the Saxon kingdom of Bernicia comprehended, besides the north of England from the Tees to the Tweed, all the east and centre of Scotland from the latter river to the Frith of Forth. At what period the inhabitants north of that Frith were first molested by the Danes and Norwegians would be a vain inquiry; we may only infer that it was much earlier than is generally supposed.^[269]

As the inhabitants of the Danish islands and of Norway had no share in the spoils of England, they were not bound to respect the coasts after their kindred had established the kingdoms of the polyarchy. Their ravages, indeed, were experienced by the English chiefs before Northumbria became a kingdom. Offa of Mercia, whose domains were invaded by them, had the valour to defeat, and the generosity to pardon, his foes. It has, however, been contended that we find no satisfactory account of the Danes being here in such numbers as to command the notice of history, before the eighth century. In this case, the authority of Saxo is rejected as unworthy of credit. “Some documents for his history Saxo may have derived from poems of the ancient Scalds, from inscriptions on stones and rocks, from an inspection (yet how imperfect!) of the Icelandic authors, and from the narrations of his friend. We may even grant to him, that such men as he enumerates, such actions as he so eloquently describes, and such poems as he so diffusely translates, once appeared; but the chronology and succession into which he arranges them are unquestionably false. The boasted fountains of the history of the ancient Scandinavians, their memorial stones and funeral runæ, the inscribed rings of their shields, the woven figures of their tapestry, their storied walls, their lettered seats and beds, their narrative wood, their re-collected 288poetry, and their inherited traditions, may have given to history the names of many warriors, and have transmitted to posterity the fame of many battles: but no dates accompanied the memorials; even the geography of the incidents was very rarely noted. Hence, however numerous may have been the preserved memoranda, their arrangement and appropriation were left to the mercy of literary fancy or of national conceit. Saxo unfortunately emulated the fame of Livy, instead of becoming the Pausanias of Scandinavia; and instead of patiently compiling and recording his materials in the humble style or form in which he found them, which would have been an invaluable present to us, he has shaped them into a most confused, unwarranted, and fabulous chronology. The whole of his first eight books, all his history anteceding Ragnar Lodbrog, can as little claim the attention of the historian, as the British, history of Jeffry, or the Swedish history of Johannes Magnus. It is indeed superfluous, if we recollect the Roman history, to argue against a work which pretends to give to Denmark a throned existence, a regular government, and a tissue of orderly and splendid history for twenty-four royal accessions before the birth of Christ. Saxo, on whose history many others were formerly built, refers to the Icelandic writers; but this only increases our depreciation of his narratives, for they are at irreconcileable variance with all his history before the ninth century.”^[270] Yet we are far from subscribing, in its most rigorous sense, to this unfavourable character. Saxo’s chronology we condemn as much as any writer; but we do not think that his facts, however distorted by tradition, are not, for the most part, founded in truth. That the authority of Snorro is superior to Saxo’s we readily admit,—superior, we mean, as to chronology; for that the latter must have been better acquainted with the actions of the Danes themselves few will be so rash as to deny. Yet even Snorro assures us that Ivar Vidfadme, a prince of the seventh century, conquered a fifth part of England.^[271] 289By this expression Northumbria is usually understood; and there is nothing improbable in the opinion that the kingdom of Bernicia—that portion of Northumbria north of the Tweed—was overrun by this prince.^[272]

|793 to 868.|

The alleged depredations of Ragnar Lodbrog in Northumbria, to which we have slightly alluded in the first chapter of this volume^[273] have in them so much of the romantic that we can place little dependence on them. There is but one circumstance that can be made to lend them even the appearance of probability. About the period of Ragnar’s death, a formidable body of Danes descended on the island of Lindisfarne, plundered the church which contained the shrine of St. Cuthbert, massacred the ecclesiastics, defiled the altars, and consumed the building by fire. The lay inhabitants of the island were not more fortunate; the men were massacred, the women were forced, the children tossed on the points of the Danish lances. In the following year (794) the monasteries of Wearmouth and Jarrow were visited with the same fate. During full seventy years,—that is, to the period when the weak brother of Alfred allowed the centre of England to be overrun, and when Alfred himself, by his flight, left the whole kingdom to their mercy,—their depredations on the eastern coast, from the Frith of Forth to the Humber, were, however desultory, however interrupted, most harassing and most destructive. The Saxon kings of Northumbria, we are told, were too much occupied in private feuds to have either time or means for defending the country against the invaders,—if, indeed, there were any Saxon kings at this time,—if the Danes were not the actual sovereigns of the province. It is certain that all the historians of Denmark (who are confirmed by the Icelandic chronicles) speak of such a dynasty, and assure us that the sons of Ragnar Lodbrog 290were its kings. We see no reason to dispute this statement. There is, however, a sad confusion in the chronology. If Ragnar died in 794, and his sons avenged him in little more than a year afterwards, they could not be at the head of the armament which, in 866, appeared off the coast. Probably they and their successors reigned from the close of the eighth to the tenth century, and the confederated armament of 866 was one on a larger scale, and headed by other leaders. What confirms this inference is the fact that at this time Harald Harfager was subduing the petty kings of Norway; and that many of them, preferring freedom to the despotism of a master, left the country with their bravest warriors. During this period, all the churches and monasteries of the province were destroyed. In 828, the Danish power in Northumberland must have been great, or they would not have been powerful, enough to defeat Egbert, the conqueror of so many Saxon kingdoms, and the founder of the English monarchy. After the year 866, when, as we believe, there were many Norwegians in England, new atrocities were committed,—atrocities which threw all former ones into the shade. The monastery of Tynemouth, which had been restored, was soon in flames; that of Lindisfarne shared the same fate; yet the monks were so fortunate as to escape with the relics of St. Cuthbert. From the smoking ruins of Lindisfarne, Halfdan, one of the chiefs, hastened to the monastery of Coldingham. “According to Matthew of Westminster and succeeding writers, the nuns of Coldingham nobly redeemed the reputation of their establishment from the stain which had covered it in the time of St. Cuthbert. The monastery was now, as in the former case, governed by an abbess, named Ebba; who, if the historian be credible, deserves the honours of canonisation somewhat better than her predecessor. Hearing that it was the custom of the barbarians first to violate, and then to destroy, virgins consecrated to God, she assembled the sister-hood in the chapter house, and exhorted them to save 291their chastity at the expense of their beauty. With a knife she dreadfully disfigured her countenance; and her example was followed on the spot by all the nuns. The Danes soon forced their gates; but turned with horror from their embraces, and quickly consumed both them and their nunnery. Though the monk of Westminster lived so long after the time, he might follow some better guide than tradition—some record now lost; nor is the fact itself either improbable or unparalleled. The same noble conduct is related of the nuns of Ecija, during the Mohammedan invasion of Spain. During seven years similar depredations followed throughout most of Northumbria. Wherever the Danes penetrated, ecclesiastics were massacred, churches and monasteries were levelled with the ground; the whole country, in fact, became a Danish province, governed by princes of the royal house of that kingdom. Great as was the evil produced by these merciless pagans; though the monks, as an order, were almost wholly annihilated, and civilisation was destroyed, yet the invasion itself led to the conversion of the invaders. Resolved to remain in the country which they had conquered, to cultivate the lands which they had divided among themselves, they were compelled to enter into relations of amity with the inhabitants, from whose example, or by whose persuasion, they soon embraced the faith of Christ. That the Danish princes were soon no less devout than their Saxon brothers appears from the splendid donation of all the country between the Wear and the Tyne, made by Guthred to the cathedral of St. Cuthbert, now transferred to Chester-le-Street.” Out of evil comes good,—a proof of God’s particular providence.^[274]

|868 to 876.|

But the atrocities of the Northmen at this period are most graphically described by the abbot Ingulf. After the destruction of Bardney, the pirates hastened to the monastery of Croyland. “It was midnight: the abbot 292Theodore and his monks had risen to matins when the enemy drew near: the younger brethren the abbot immediately commanded to seek a place of refuge, with their papers, relics, and jewels; while he himself, accompanied by the more aged monks, and some children, awaited whatever fate might be reserved for them. Perhaps he hoped that the grey locks of some, and the infancy of others, might awaken pity even in pagans. But they forgot, says Ingulf, the old verse,

“Nulla fides pictasque viris qui castra sequuntur.”

But he was prepared for any event,—to live or fall with his establishment. Having taken an affectionate leave of about thirty junior monks, he and his devoted companions returned to the church, finished the matins, and celebrated mass. They had just communicated when the pagans arrived, forced the gates, and rushed into the cloisters. The silence which they found might have induced them to believe the monastery was utterly forsaken, had not the distant chaunting of the monks fallen on their ears. They hastened to the church and burst into the choir; one chieftain instantly seized the abbot by the hair with his left hand, while the right severed the head from the body. The officiating clergy shared the same fate at nearly the same moment: the children and the aged monks were tortured for the purpose of discovering whither the treasures had been conveyed; but as the former were unable, and the latter unwilling, to disclose the secret, their sufferings were soon terminated by death. Of all these helpless inmates, one only was saved,—a boy ten years old, whose innocence made an impression on one of the chieftains. He had fled to the refectory with the sub-prior, whom he saw murdered, and whose fate he begged to share; but the chieftain tore the cowl from his head, threw a Danish cloak over him, and commanded him to follow him. The three succeeding days were passed in plunder,—in minutely examining every corner or crevice where treasure might be buried. The shrine of St. 293Guthlake was overthrown; the marble monuments around it, containing the mortal remains of saints and benefactors to the house, were opened, in search of rings, chalices, and other precious effects which the Saxons entombed with the bodies of the great; the bones were thrown on the ground, and the sculpture defaced. On the fourth day the extensive pile was on fire. Medeshamstede, or Peterborough, also an abbey of royal foundation, was next visited. Its noble library, its numerous treasures, which there had not been time to remove, its magnificent architecture, rendered it one of the proudest monastic establishments in the island. Within its gates many of the neighbouring inhabitants had placed their most valuable effects, and thither many had fled for protection. For a while the edifice made a noble stand; but a stone thrown by an unknown hand having mortally wounded the brother of Ubbo, the Danish king, the barbarian and his followers made a more desperate attack, forced the gates, and commenced the massacre. With his own hand Ubbo sacrificed the hoary abbot and eighty-three monks to the shade of his brother; while the strangers fell under the hands of his followers. The booty was immense; but the value was trifling compared with that of the MS. treasures which were consumed with the monastery. The conflagration continued a fortnight. While it raged, the monks who had fled from Croyland returned to their former abode, sat themselves down amidst the smoking ruins, and wept. So overcome were they by the melancholy sight, that some time elapsed before they proceeded to bury the scorched bodies of their brethren. Having performed this sad office, and elected another abbot, they were solicited to perform the last duties to the monks of Medeshamstede. With sorrowful hearts they deposited the bones of the abbot and the eighty-three monks in the same grave, over which Godric, their superior, raised a monument, engraven with the history of this sad tragedy. From Medeshamstede the pirates, exulting in their success, hastened to the Isle 294of Ely, to inflict the same fate on the flourishing convent which had been founded by the piety of St. Edilthryda. Its cloisters were inhabited by the noblest ladies of England. Some fled; but the greater number preferred the death which they knew awaited them. The place was taken; the nuns were ravished and slaughtered; and the holy pile was reduced to ashes. That such atrocities could be committed would be incredible were they not too well attested to admit of scepticism.^[275]

|870 to 924.|

The struggles of Alfred with the ferocious Northmen have been detailed in more than one volume connected with the present.^[276] During this period, there was a Danish monarchy in Northumbria, which, as we have already observed, had been probably founded by the sons of Ragnar Lodbrog. That monarchy subsisted in the reign of Edmund, the son of Alfred; and, it was in full vigour on the accession of Athelstane. So powerful, indeed, was Sigtrug, king of that province, that Athelstane, to insure his friendship, conferred on him the hand of his sister. The condition of this marriage was that Sigtrug should embrace Christianity, and become the vassal of Athelstane. In five years, however, the restless barbarian put away his wife, and relapsed into idolatry. To punish the insult, Athelstane invaded Northumbria; but Sigtrug died before his arrival; and the two sons of Sigtrug, Anlaf and Godfrey, fled,—the former into Ireland, the latter into Scotland; and Athelstane annexed Northumbria to his English crown.^[277]

|924 to 934.|

That Athelstane should so immediately raise the power of the Saxon kingdom, as not only to defeat the Danes and Northmen, but to subjugate a province which had always been hostile to it, shows what may be effected by the energies of a single mind. Not satisfied with expelling the enemy from Northumbria, he pursued them into Scotland, far north of the boundary 295which had hitherto arrested the progress of English victory: his fleets penetrated into Caithness, ravaging the coast as they proceeded. And he is believed, at this period, to have located a multitude of English colonists in the southern provinces of Scotland, and thus to have laid the foundation of the present lowland population. But Northumbria was too recent a conquest, and too dissimilar from the rest of the monarchy, to remain secure. The chiefs of Denmark and Norway, who had so long regarded England as a kind of inheritance, armed in greater numbers than before, to check the rising power of Athelstane. They were joined by all the noted sea kings of the age; by many of the jarls or kings who had settlements in Ireland and Scotland; by the king of the Scots, and by several Welsh chiefs. Never, we are told, had so formidable an armament menaced England as that which, in 934, entered the Humber. It consisted of 615 ships, headed by Anlaf, whom Constantine of Scotland had induced to make the attempt. Anlaf, who, on his father’s death, had obtained for himself a principality in Ireland, had a reputation for skill and valour equalled by none of his countrymen. Of the two thanes whom Athelstane had placed over Northumbria, one was defeated and slain; the other, after the battle, fled to acquaint the English monarch with the defeat. He prepared for the contest with courage; and, to gain time until his forces were collected, entered into negotiations. When his army was completed, he hastened into the north, and was in presence of the pirates before they knew he had left the Saxon provinces. If any faith is to be placed in either Saxon or Norwegian writers, Anlaf, assuming the disguise of a harper, penetrated to the tent of Athelstane, and entertained that monarch with his art. His object, we are told, was to ascertain the position of the tent previous to a nocturnal attack, which had been determined by the confederate chiefs. But this incident, no less than the recognition of Anlaf by one of the Saxon outposts, is too romantic to be easily credited. 296What appears to be certain is, that Athelstane removed his tent to another part of the field; and that the bishop of Sherburn, who encamped in the place which he had abandoned, was slain before the morning’s dawn. In the night there was a skirmish, which caused much effusion of blood, and was advantageous to neither party. When day arrived, the celebrated battle of Brunanburgh was fought. That town has escaped the researches of antiquaries; and all that can be conjectured is, that it was in some place north of the Humber. That the struggle was a desperate one might be inferred alike from the character of the combatants, and from the magnitude of the interests involved. Victory declared for Athelstane; Constantine of Scotland was nearly taken, and his son killed; the Cumbrians and Britons and Irish were destroyed, or put to flight, and the bravest warriors of the north remained on the field. This splendid advantage raised England in the esteem of all Europe, and impressed the Northmen with a salutary terror.^[278]

|934.|

The intercourse between Athelstane and Eric of the Bloody Axe we have before mentioned.^[279] We have also related in what manner Sweyn of Denmark^[280] defeated Ethelred II., and eventually became king of England. The history of that monarch brings down that of the Scandinavian expeditions to the year 1014.

|400 to 840.|

2. France. The devastations of the Saxons and the Jutes on the coasts of Gaul commenced as early as those on the coast of Britain. We read of them in the third and every succeeding century, until France was too strong to be assailed with impunity,—until piracy was extinguished in the north of Europe. In the fifth century, the pirates besieged Orleans, and formed many settlements on the western coast. About the middle of the sixth, Hamlet of Jutland is said to have fought the Franks in person, and to have been defeated. The 297period, however, of Hamlet, is purely conjectural; and his descent on the coast is equally so. But that the Normans were there is affirmed by the contemporary Gregory of Tours, who describes their ravages with much interest. Under the Carlovingians, the piratical armaments were more powerful than at any preceding time. In 795, the Danes ravaged Friesland; from 800, the coasts of Flanders and France were infested; nor could the genius and vast resources of Charlemagne punish their audacity. On witnessing their fugitive depredations, he is said to have predicted the trouble which they would cause his successors. Such a prediction required no supernatural discernment; but it proves that the monarch had formed a correct estimate of northern piracy. For the greater part of a century, however, they did not appear in any overwhelming numbers on the French coast. The forces of the Northmen were too much scattered over the deep, in England, Ireland, the Orkneys, and the Baltic, to admit of any considerable concentration at a given point. Their efforts, however destructive, were desultory, and might have been easily repelled, had there been any wisdom or any vigour in the government. But the sons of the emperor Louis were too eager to destroy each other, to have time for the chastisement of obscure pirates; and every year added to the severity of the scourge. In 840, Rouen was burnt; and many great monasteries of that province, defended as they were by numerous vassals, shared the same fate. The banks of two rivers—the Seine and the Loire—were ravaged from their mouths to the interior of France. Amboise was next burnt, and Tours was besieged; but St. Martin saved his city.^[281]

|840.|

The man whose ravages were to eclipse all former pirates was Hastings, who headed the expedition into Touraine. Of him we have no mention in the annals of the north; our only information respecting him is from the French writers,—Dudo of St. Quentin, William 298of Jumvieges, William of Poictiers, Orderic Vital, Robert Wace, and Benedict of St. Maur. In this absence of Scandinavian authority, the critics of the north have endeavoured to identify him with such of the Swedish, Danish, or Norwegian chiefs, as bore a name kindred with his own. But the account of Wace, however inaccurate in its details, is the only one that can be followed. There was a king of Denmark, says this ecclesiastic, Lotroc, an old man, who had a son called Biorn, surnamed Ironside, from his defensive armour. Finding that his kingdom was too populous, he revived an ancient law, which forced all the sons of a family except one, to seek their fortunes on the deep. A considerable number of vessels being prepared, Biorn was placed over the fleet; but, as his years were yet tender, he was subjected to the councils of Hadding, or Hasting, a veteran chief of the pirates. Who was this king? Modern writers unanimously affirm that he was the celebrated Ragnar Lodbrog. In this case, Biorn could be no other than Biorn Ironside, who, on the death of his father in 794, ascended the throne of the Swedes. Yet how will this chronology agree with the facts? The expedition of Hastings must be referred to the middle of the ninth century; when, if any dependence is to be placed on the critical historians of the north, Biorn had been dead forty years. But wherever the name of this Lodbrog occurs, there is the same chronological confusion; nor can we be surprised that Suhm makes two heroes of that name,—one of the eighth, the other of the ninth century.^[282]

|842 to 844.|

When Hastings arrived off the coast, he divided his fleet into two squadrons. One ascended the Somme, set fire to the towns which lay on its banks, and murdered the inhabitants. The other proceeded to the mouth of the Loire, and committed the same depredations on its banks. Nantes was taken, and all who had sought refuge in the cathedral were put to death. Churches, 299monasteries, towns, hamlets,—everything which lay in the passage of the invaders, was destroyed. Proceeding to the south, they ravaged the coasts of Galicia, but were defeated by the king of Leon. This check forced them from Spain; but they spread their wild hordes over the south of France, from Thoulouse to the Pyrenees. As they had established a kind of wooden fortress on the Loire, they now erected one on the Garonne. But they were not satisfied with the failure of their arms against Spain; they were determined, by future successes, to blot out the memory of this disgrace; and, with a larger fleet, they returned to that peninsula. Lisbon, then an inconsiderable town, was plundered; passing to the south and east, the armament ascended the Guadalquivir, and assailed the important city of Seville, then in the power of the Mohammedans. Strange was the chance which thus brought the robbers of Scandinavia and those of the Arabian deserts into collision with each other. But the followers of Odin had the advantage over those of Mohammed; doubtless because the latter were few in number, and unprepared for the attack. From this city they made some predatory excursions into the neighbouring country; but the Arabs, by surprising a part of their fleet, counter-balanced the advantage they had just gained.^[283]

|845 to 859.|

Whether Hastings was present in the expedition to Spain may be doubted. There were several chiefs of the pirates, from all parts of Scandinavia; and while one was laying waste the maritime coasts of the South, others were equally active on those of France. Hastings, however, was at the head of the party which, proceeding by way of Fescamp and Rouen, extended its ravages over most of Neustria and Bretagne, and even to the gates of Paris. All France was in consternation. The monks especially were surprised that their holy relics had no power 300to arrest the progress of the barbarians. St. Martin had saved Tours; but there was no saint to defend the magnificent religious houses which were now destroyed by the Northmen. When the enemy approached, the monks retired with the relics, heaping curses loud and deep on these “men of hell,” these “spawn of the devil.” But their curses were ineffectual as their relics, and the tide of destruction flowed on. Many were the presents which the Carlovingian kings made to the invaders to remove the scourge. As in England, the money was received, but the depredations were only transferred to some other part of the kingdom. But, so many were the armaments which every year arrived from the North, and so many the chiefs to be bribed, that the resources of the country were insufficient for the purpose. It was probably this circumstance which led Hastings into the Mediterranean. He had heard of Rome; and the glory no less than the advantage of sacking that celebrated city, led him to the shores of Italy. On his way, he plundered the coasts of Spain, of Africa, and those of the islands which he passed. Disembarking in Tuscany, he assailed Luna, which he is absurdly said to have mistaken for Rome; and failing in his attempt to carry it by storm, he recurred to an experiment which we have more than once read in the history of the north. He caused the inhabitants to be informed that he was disgusted with his manner of life; that he would repent; that he was the victim of an incurable disease; that he wished to be baptized before his death. The credulous ecclesiastics obtained a suspension of hostilities, and prepared for the ceremony which was “to wash this Ethiop white.” On the day appointed, he was carried in a litter to the cathedral; and he acted his part to admiration. He received the holy rite with much appearance of devotion; all must see that his days were drawing to their close; and he begged that his bones might be deposited in one of the vaults beneath the church. That was sacred ground; and when surrounded by the ashes of 301saints and martyrs, he might hope to escape the pursuits of the evil one. Who could refuse so humble a request? He was borne to his ship, which he was scarcely expected to see alive. No sooner was he on board, than he cast away his disease, and mentioned to his followers the plan which he had devised for the capture of the city. In a short time, a loud cry of grief was heard on board his vessel; the neophyte was dead, and preparations were made for the funeral. When the day appointed by the clergy arrived, the coffin, attended by all the chiefs, and a great number of warriors, was slowly borne from the ship to the cathedral. It was placed on a bier, near the choir of the church, and the funeral service was commenced. The congregation to witness the ceremony was great; it comprised the bishop, the clergy, the governor, the military, and the principal inhabitants. Mass was sung; the funeral hymns were chaunted; prayers for the requiem of the new-born soul were humbly offered; and the attendants advanced to the bier to lower the corpse into its last resting-place. At this moment, Hastings arose; his warriors drew their swords from beneath their long cloaks, which were at once thrown on the pavement; the doors were fastened; the work of carnage commenced, and every one present was laid dead in the place. The city was easily won; the inhabitants were massacred; the most precious effects borne to the ships, and the city consumed by fire. This may seem to be romance rather than history; but it is attested by so many writers, and is so conformable with the character of the pagan Scandinavians at once violent and treacherous that we dare not wholly reject it. The circumstances may be embellished; but the foundation of the story is probably true.^[284]

|858 to 863.|

While Hastings was in Italy, Biorn was pursuing the 302work of destruction in France. In vain did Charles the Bald endeavour to expel him from the kingdom. Arms being ineffectual, negotiation was tried, and for a large sum Biorn consented to leave France. On his return, feeling that he was indisposed, he landed on the coast, and there died. While the French were congratulating themselves on this unexpected deliverance, they were thrown into consternation by the news that Hastings was just returned from Italy, and renewing his ravages. A misfortune which he had sustained on the passage—that of being compelled through the violence of the storm to throw overboard his numerous captives and most precious effects—made him the more eager to repair his fortunes. Entering the Rhone, and forming another entrenchment, he sent or headed detachments, which plundered Arles, Nismes, and most of the towns between the Alps and the Pyrenees. While thus occupied, another formidable body in the Seine, which had not shared in the treaty made by Biorn, ravaged the country to the gates of Paris. A third soon landed from the north, and commenced its career by the destruction of Amiens; while a fourth was equally mischievous in Flanders. Charles had, as before, recourse to negotiation. To the party which had destroyed Amiens he engaged to pay three thousand pounds weight of fine gold—an immense sum, and surely an exaggeration. It is, however, certain that a heavy tax was levied on the whole kingdom, and that in twelve months it was not wholly collected. But while the negotiation was pending, other armaments arrived, and even the king began to perceive that to purchase the retreat of one while so many others were left to pursue their depredations, was great folly. The negotiation, consequently, assumed a new character: and the pirates were now to be paid, not for leaving the kingdom, but for assisting to expel other bodies of their countrymen from it. Accordingly, there followed some desultory hostilities between these kindred robbers: but while they were thus occupied, other bands were carrying 303their depredations into the heart of France. In the end, however, two of the armaments were persuaded to leave the shores—probably to join in the conquest of England, now governed by the feeble brothers of Alfred. But two yet remained that of Hastings, and one stationed in the Loire. As the former was so dreaded, his neutrality, at least, was to be purchased on any terms. The abbot of St. Denis repaired to the head quarters of the chief, and with some difficulty prevailed on him to accept the royal offers. These were, a large sum of money, and the fief of Chartres with the title of count, on the condition of his embracing Christianity, and, as a French vassal, of aiding his liege superior against all enemies. The conditions were accepted, and the fierce pirate of the Baltic became one of the noblest peers of France.^[285]

|863 to 876.|

There now remained one piratical band only,—that on the Loire. As Paris had been more than once menaced, king Charles caused to be constructed on the Seine, below that city, a bridge, which was intended to arrest the progress of the hostile vessels, by its inability to admit the high masts. The writers of that period are minute in describing the excesses of these men, whom they accompany step by step. But the detail is tedious: in general they have more sympathy for churches and abbeys, than for the peasantry; and much louder is their cry when a solitary priest is massacred at the altar, or a sacred relic borne away, than when a town is put to the sword. No church, no monastery, no village or town was spared,—nothing which had not the means of self-defence. In 867 the robbers appeared in the vicinity of Paris: the bridge prevented their arriving under the walls; and they established their head quarters at the abbey of St. Denis. From thence they spread into the neighbouring country, and acquired immense booty. But a contagious disease appearing 304among them, and reducing their numbers, they slowly descended the river to wait for reinforcements, which were constantly arriving on the coast. But these reinforcements were now smaller than they had lately been: three fourths of all the pirates that swept the seas were in England, preparing to drive Alfred from the throne; and though those who remained in France effected great mischief, they would have been unable to resist any considerable body. They were not, however, inured to open campaigns: their hostilities were undertaken on a smaller scale,—were generally directed against some town or religious edifice where there was less danger of resistance; and when assailed (as was sometimes the case) by a much superior force, they retired into their fortified places. Angers, which they captured in 873, was one of these. On this occasion Charles the Bald exhibited an energy to which he was usually a stranger. He raised an army, marched to Angers, compelled the Northmen to evacuate it, and retire to their island entrenchments on the Loire. From this place their predatory excursions were resumed. But they are beneath the notice of history: they were undertaken, not for conquest, but for booty. The period, however, is arrived when we must accompany the exploits of one who did conquer, and who laid the foundation of a state powerful enough to effect the greatest revolutions in Europe.^[286]

Rognevald was one of the jarls of Harald the Fair-haired. After serving his monarch in many difficult and dangerous enterprises, he fell in battle. Of his sons, one, Einar, became jarl of the Orkneys. Einar was an ambitious man. When Halfdan, a son of Harald, expelled him from their island, he obtained reinforcements in Scotland, returned to the charge, and deprived Halfdan of authority and life. Harald sailed to avenge the death of his son; but Einar was left in possession of the government. Not inferior 305to Einar in ambition or valour, was Hrolf, or Rollo,—the Rou of the Norman writers,—another son of Rognevald. According to the Icelandic sagas, he was so tall and so robust that no horse could carry him: hence his appellation of Hrolf Gangr, or the Walker. Like his ancestors, he passed his time on the deep, and enriched himself by his depredations on the shores of the Baltic. The death of his father, and the rebellion of his elder brother, made him probably less attached to the interests of Harald, or less obedient to his commands. It is certain that he ventured to do what had been so rigorously forbidden,—to make a piratical descent on the Norwegian coast. The monarch was in the town which Rollo endeavoured to sack; and his indignation at the attempt led him to banish the pirate for ever. Whether this could be much punishment to one whose life had been passed far from Norway may be doubted. Collecting as great a number of vessels as were willing to join him,—and the dignity of his family no less than his own prowess made him a popular chief,—he sailed for France. In his way he appears to have made some piratical descents on the Scottish and English coasts; and though he could not make much impression on either, he did what, in his present circumstances, was quite as advantageous—he loaded his ships with booty. Dudo of St. Quentin, and Wace, determined that the founder of the Norman dynasty shall be a favourite of heaven, introduce some visions and other miscellaneous appearances, which the historian must leave to the monastic chronicler. These are harmless, and may be despised; but when, to dignify the chief of some great family, history is perverted, a severer censure is necessary. Thus, Dudo (who is followed by many Norman writers) informs us that Rollo was powerful enough to become the ally and friend of Alfred; that by the Saxon monarch he was provided with a fleet to make war on the French king; that in gratitude for this aid he afterwards assisted Alfred—whom his subjects or the 306Danes had dethroned—to reascend the throne. How living writers could fall into the absurdity of receiving such statements, which are contrary to the unanimous voices of contemporary history, is surprising.^[287]

|876 to 888.|

The year in which Rollo arrived in the south is not very clearly established. Schoning has 995; but this will not bear the test of scrutiny, for the French and Norman writers assert that he was occupied above thirty years in his subjugation of Normandy, and we know that he was recognised its duke in 912. Asser of St. David’s—a contemporary—has the year 876, and he is confirmed by the writers nearest to the period; yet there are some chronological difficulties which we cannot remove. Harald of Norway did not undertake the voyage to the Orkneys before the year 895; and the banishment of Rollo is assigned to the year following. The only way to reconcile this anachronism is by the conjecture that Rollo, being exiled for piracy in 876, joined his countrymen and the Danes, who were ravaging England and France; that he established himself at Rouen, but frequently extended his devastations to the north and east of that city; that he was more than once in England, and perhaps in the north, before his recognition as duke of Normandy. But let us follow his footsteps. Landing at Walcheren, he defeated the count of Hainault, whom he captured, and exacted a heavy sum by way of ransom. Repairing to Rouen, he was not so ruthless as to destroy it: he accepted from the archbishop a sum of money, fortified it, and made it the basis of his operations against the French king. His arrival threw France into consternation; and Hastings was sent to learn his object, which he coolly replied was—conquest. But whether at this period he proceeded far in his operations may well be doubted. His name does not appear in the siege of Paris, which took place in 886, nor in many other enterprises which from 876 to 896—that is, twenty years—afflicted France. 307Yet the names of other chiefs are specified. As we have already conjectured, he was probably for some years in England, or in the north. Certainly he could not have entered on that splendid career which led to his elevation, before the year 890, or later still. Yet it is possible that he might be joined with the other chiefs in the devastations which, from 876,—during full thirty years,—afflicted the whole of France. However this be, in ten years after his first disembarkation, siege was laid to Paris. It is described by a contemporary poet,—by an eye-witness, Abbo, monk of Fleury. It was of considerable duration, and many were the desperate assaults which were made upon the city; but they were as bravely repelled; and the siege was raised. Yet the Northmen did not retire further than the abbey of St. Germain’s, where they continued for some time to despatch their destructive hordes. As no great enemy was before them, they split into two bodies; and while one was collecting booty and burning villages, another laid siege to Chartres. In this attempt, however, they failed,—a result which Wace ascribes to the virtue of a certain relic.^[288] A new attack was made on Paris, but with as little effect. At this juncture arrived the emperor Charles the Fat, to succour the capital; and the expulsion of the pirates seemed inevitable. But far different was the result: without striking a blow, he negotiated, and agreed to give the pirates seven hundred pounds of gold, with permission to ravage the two sides of the Seine into Burgundy, provided they would then leave—not France, but the central provinces. They received the money, and ravaged Burgundy; but they had no intention to forsake the fertile plains of the interior for the dreary maritime coast.^[289]

308|888 to 896.|

Though Eudes defeated the pirates, this was merely a temporary check,—so temporary as scarcely to arrest their progress. Meaux was besieged and taken; Champagne, Lorraine, and Burgundy were ravaged; Troyes, Chalons, Toul, Verdun were occupied; Picardy and Artois, to the borders of the sea, were laid waste. Contemporaneously with these rapid successes were the depredations of the pirates who were still entrenched on the Loire. There was no rest for France; no hope of expelling her daring intruders. Though Eudes had triumphed over the pirates, the next time they assailed that capital he was glad to purchase their retreat. Descending the river to its mouth, they next assailed the fortress of St. Loo. It was compelled to capitulate; but no conditions were binding on these wretches, who regarded oaths as vain formalities: instead of security for their lives, the inhabitants found a grave. Bretagne was now ravaged; but duke Alan was braver and more, fortunate than Eudes. Though the invaders were 15,000 in number, he assailed them, at a moment, too, when they were flushed with victory over a rival duke. His success was splendid; thousands were left dead on the field; the rest were put to flight. But even this success was scarcely a check to these wild sons of the deep. Driven from England by the genius of Alfred, they came in fearful numbers to France. They occupied both the coasts and the centre; and they traversed every part of the kingdom with an impunity surprising to posterity.^[290]

|896 to 909.|

In how many of these embassies Rollo was an actor, we shall not venture to decide. Whether he was not much in England, as well as in France; whether he was not alternately engaged in both kingdoms, must be left to the reader’s own inference. This, at least, is certain, that from the year 896 his name and exploits 309fill the page of French history, to the exclusion of many other names which had before occupied it. From that year, too, must be dated those rapid and decisive successes which insured his future greatness. The banishment of so many pirates from the north by Harald Harfager now sent larger swarms to the south. The first care of Rollo was to strengthen the fortifications of Rouen, which had been destroyed in his absence (whether that absence were in England, or the interior of France, we will not decide), and which he now made formidable. Next, both sides of the Seine felt the vigour of his genius. The forces which were sent to oppose him he defeated. But we cannot follow his steps. Let it be sufficient to observe, that he was almost uniformly successful; that in several battles he was the victor; that Bayeux, Evreux, Nantes, and many places of inferior note were taken by him; that he partitioned the lands which he subdued among his warriors, to be held of him as the liege head, under the usual feudal conditions. From this policy and this success, we should infer that he was in one respect the counterpart of his countrymen—that he protected, instead of destroying, the peasantry—that he encouraged, instead of abolishing, Christianity. Probably much of his moderation was owing to the councils of Franco, archbishop of Rouen, his chief vassal. Alarmed at the progress of his arms, Charles the Simple applied through Franco for a truce, which was readily granted. There can, indeed, be little doubt that the success of Hastings was before the eyes of Rollo, and that he aspired to a lordship much more ample than Chartres,—one which he should compel the French king to cede to him, and thereby give him a proud seat amongst the princes of Europe. Hence the readiness with which he listened to Franco, especially when assured that Charles had already contemplated his investiture with some portion of his new conquests. The truce, indeed, was not agreeable to some of the French peers, and hostilities were recommenced, much to the injury of 310France. There was not a province which some of his bands did not traverse; there was scarcely one which he did not plunder; and though frequently repulsed, they always returned to the charge. The French began to murmur, and Charles to apply himself still more seriously to a permanent understanding with Rollo. Hostilities had availed nothing; France had lost many thousands of her bravest defenders, and hundreds of thousands of her peaceful inhabitants; and if the invaders had also lost many considerable detachments, their ranks were speedily replenished by new immigrations from the north.^[291]

|910 to 912.|

About the year 910, or perhaps the year following, Franco, at the command of Charles, opened the important negotiation with this adventurer. The offers were—Neuctria with the ducal title, and the hand of Gisele, a natural daughter of the king, provided he would embrace Christianity, and become the liege vassal of the French crown. This prelate was an eloquent, persuasive man, and had already considerable influence over the mind of Rollo. But that chief objected to one of the conditions as not sufficiently liberal. Neuctria he had already; and there was no great generosity in recognising his title to that which nobody could wrest from him. Besides, it was, he alleged, barren and half-peopled; but he forgot that this result was his own work and that of his countrymen. Franco then offered a portion of Bretagne—perhaps the whole—as an arriere-fief; and Rollo no longer hesitated. He had a wife already, Popa, the daughter of a French count; and her he repudiated,—on what ground is matter of dispute; but surely there need be none. Rollo was not yet a Christian; he had not been married in any Christian church; how then could the church recognise the union? Gisele, therefore, was to become the bride of the chief. A meeting of Rollo and of Charles was 311appointed at St. Clair-sur-Epte, a place on the frontier of Normandy. In 912, both repaired to that town,—Charles with a splendid retinue of nobles and prelates, by whose advice he had entered into a treaty with the new vassal. Here the investiture took place; Rollo did homage to the sovereign, and both acts were witnessed by the French nobles. To kneel before the monarch, hold up his hands between those of the superior, and repeat a certain formula called an oath, were no great acts of degradation; and to these Rollo had no objection. But the homage was not complete until the regal foot was kissed. To this humiliation he would not stoop, and he was allowed to perform it by deputy. A warrior of his suite was accordingly brought forward; but he was no less proud than his master; and on the royal foot being somewhat raised, he raised it still higher, and threw the poor monarch on his back, amidst the suppressed laughter of the assembly.^[292]

|912.|

Thus was a fierce, an obscure pirate invested with one of the most important fiefs in Europe. His successors were, like him, valiant and politic; and by their means the duchy was raised to a height of power that rendered it a rival at once to the French and English kings. By what degrees, however, this progressive greatness was achieved, must be left to the historian of France. It is sufficient for us to observe that the new state became a successful barrier against the pagans of Scandinavia. Not that, both in Bretagne and Gascony, new armaments did not arrive and do some mischief; but it was transient, and no fear was entertained that the most powerful cities of France would ever again be assailed by them. When they did appear in any district, they were soon repulsed. The policy, therefore, of erecting Neustria into a state, and confiding it to the government of a race of heroes, was a wise one. A successor of Charles the Simple endeavoured to dethrone a grandson of Rollo; but, as we have already seen, Harald of Denmark sailed to the aid of the 312young duke, took the French king prisoner, and restored the relation between duke and monarch to the state in which it was on the death of Rollo.^[293]

3. Ireland. At what period the Northmen first commenced their depredations in Ireland is, like many other points of northern history, impossible to be established. The Irish annals themselves contain no record of such transactions prior to the eighth century; yet they must have happened before. If little reliance is to be placed on the statement of Saxo, that Fridleif I. and Frode III. conquered and plundered Dublin, it would be rash to affirm that there was not a very ancient intercourse between that island and Scandinavia. Whether the Lochlans, or Dwellers of the Lakes, were Scandinavians, or the Scottish Highlanders, has been matter of great dispute. We know, however, that, in the ninth century, the Danes were expressly called Lochlans by the Irish, and that the term was used at an earlier period to designate some maritime people with whom the natives had a frequent intercourse. The term, however, might be applied to both the Gael and the Northmen,—to all maritime nations. On this subject let us hear the last and most eloquent of Irish historians:—

In proof of the Danes having been the people with whom this early intercourse was maintained, the authority of a number of modern historians has been adduced, according to whose accounts it would seem that, from a period preceding the birth of Christ, a succession of invasions of this island from Denmark had been commenced; and that, for some centuries after, a course of alternate hostility and friendship marked the relations between the two countries. Imposing, however, as is the array of northern authorities for this statement, the entire value of their united evidence may be reduced to that of the single testimony of that of Saxo Grammaticus, from whose pages they have all copied; and it is well known, for all the earlier portion of this eloquent writer’s history, the foundation is as unsound and unreal as Scaldic fable and fallacious chronology could make it. The only circumstance that lends any semblance of credit to the accounts given by northern histotorians 313of the early fortunes of Ireland, is the known fact that the chief materials of their own history were derived from records preserved in Iceland: to which island inaccessible as it might seem to have been to the rude navigation of those days, it is certain that a number of Irish missionaries of the seventh and eighth centuries contrived to find their way. We learn, from more than one authentic source, that, when the Norwegians first arrived in Iceland, they found there traces of its having been previously inhabited by a Christian people; and the Irish books, bells, and holy staves, left behind by the former dwellers, sufficiently denoted the religious island from whence they had migrated. The title of Papas, which it appears was borne by them, has led to the conclusion that they must have been Irish priests who had adventurously fixed themselves in this desolate region; and, under the same name, they were found in the Orkneys when the Norwegians conquered those islands. Unless we were to suppose, however, that among the books left by those missionaries in Iceland, there were any relating to Irish history of which the chroniclers consulted by Saxo might have availed themselves, the incident, though curious and well attested, affords but slight grounds for placing reliance on these early northern annals, whose sources of information are known to have been spurious, and to whose general character for extravagant fiction, the few brief notices which they contain respecting Irish affairs, can hardly be expected to furnish an exception. Nor is any more serious credit due to them when they represent Dublin to have been in possession of the Danes a short time before the birth of Christ, than when they assert that London was built by these northern people about the very same period. Fabulous, however, as are these accounts, yet that, long before either the Danish or even the Saxon invasions, the coasts of the Baltic had sent forth colonies to the British Isles, is a fact to which foreign as well as domestic tradition bears testimony. The conjecture of Tacitus, that the people called Picts were a Germanic or northern race, is confirmed by the traditional accounts of this people, preserved in the chronicles of Britain; and all the early Scandinavian legends concur with the annals of Ireland in intimating, at some remote period, relations of intercourse between the two countries. We have seen, in a preceding part of this work, what almost certain grounds there are for believing that those Scyths, or Scots, who, at the time when Ireland first became known to modern Europe, formed the dominant part of her people, were a colony from some region bordering on the Baltic Sea which had, a few centuries before, gained possession of this island. From whatever part 314these Scythian adventurers may have arrived, whether from the Cimbric peninsula, the islands of the Baltic, or the Scandinavian shores, it may be concluded that with that region the occasional intercourse was afterwards maintained, and those alliances and royal intermarriages formed of which, in our ancient traditions and records, some scattered remembrances still remain. With respect to those swarms of sea-rovers who, throughout the dark and troubled period we are now approaching, carried on their long career of havoc and blood, though known most popularly in English history by the general name of Danes, they are but rarely, and not till a late period, thus designated in our annals. By Tigernach, the earliest existing annalist, they are invariably called Gâll, or Strangers; while, in the Annals of Inisfallen, of Ulster, and of the Four Masters, they are styled indifferently either Galls, Gentiles, Dwellers on the Lakes, or Pirates; but in not more than two or three instances are they called Normans, and as seldom Danes.^[294]