The Sea Wolves: A History of the Vikings

by Lars Brownworth

  Much of this was established by Rollo’s own example. He adopted his baptismal name of Robert, married a local woman that he had captured, and encouraged his men to take native wives as well. Within a generation, most of the Scandinavian language and traditions had faded away, replaced by French.

  Rollo himself may only have been Christian in name, but his descendants emerged as the faith’s most able defenders.90 From a Viking foundation, there emerged a hybrid state with the culture and religion of the Franks and the ferocious energy of the Norsemen. It was perhaps the most successful of the Viking creations.

  Rollo’s triumph, however, was also a sign that the world was changing. The old hunting grounds of western Francia, England, and Ireland were closing off. The century of Viking raids had either exhausted their wealth or provoked a strong native response. If the Viking way of life were to continue, more fertile territory had to be found. The great age of Viking discovery had begun.

  THE EXPLORERS

  Chapter 11

  Vikings on the Riviera

  “They raised the standards, spread the sails before the wind, and like agile wolves set out to rip apart the Lord’s sheep, pouring out human blood to their god Thor.”

  - William of Jumieges

  If Rollo was indeed present at the siege of Paris, he served alongside the first significant Viking explorer, Hastein. By 885, Hastein was near the end of a colorful career, having served in nearly every major Viking campaign of the ninth century. He had been one of the leaders of the Great Heathen Army when it attacked Alfred’s kingdom, and had crossed over to France after the treaty of Wedmore. Although his ancestry is disputed, he was either the son of Ragnar Lothbrok, or had been recruited by him to toughen up Ragnar’s youngest son Bjorn. Either way, he had fulfilled the latter request admirably, by leading the twelve-year old on a wild raid up the Loire river.

  Hastein had already made a nuisance of himself along both banks of the river. The Norman monk, Dudo of Saint-Quentin, described him as ‘accursed, headstrong, extremely cruel, and harsh“, and then, perhaps fearing that his audience wouldn’t get the point without further elaboration, continued ” destructive, troublesome, wild, ferocious, infamous, inconstant, brash, conceited and lawless, death-dealing, rude, a rebellious traitor and kindler of evil, a double-faced hypocrite, and ungodly, arrogant, seductive and foolhardy deceiver, a lewd, unbridled, contentious rascal”. Clearly Ragnar had chosen his son’s mentor well.

  Hastein and Bjorn made themselves such a nuisance in northern France that King Charles the Bald tried to buy him off by handing over control of the city of Chartres. Since the Viking had no use for a city, he sold it to a neighboring count and continued raiding.91

  This time, however, he wasn’t careful and was surprised by an army led by Duke Robert the Strong.92 Hastein only managed to avoid destruction by barricading himself and his men inside a church. Not wanting to destroy a sacred building, Duke Robert decided to starve them out and settled in for a siege. Since it was a hot day, he removed his armor, only to have Hastein – who had been watching discreetly from a window – charge out with his entire force. In the melée, Duke Robert was killed, and the Vikings escaped.

  Preying on the Loire valley proved lucrative, but in 859 Hastein and Bjorn dreamed up an even more audacious plan. There were untold riches to the west, beyond the borders of Christendom. The Moorish kingdom of Spain, once part of a vast caliphate that extended east across north Africa to Iran, was dripping in gold.

  They had obtained the idea of attacking Spain from a failed Viking expedition a dozen or so years before. The raid had gotten off to a good start in 844 when thirty ships had reached the city of Seville, where they managed to pull down a section of the walls. After dispatching what little resistance they found the Vikings settled down to the important work of plundering the wealthy homes of the many aristocrats and silk merchants. The fittest and most attractive citizens were loaded on to ships and sent to the busy Muslim slave markets to the west.

  Instead of leaving Seville, the Vikings decided to make it a base, and for the next six weeks they struck targets as far away as Lisbon and Cadiz. If there were plenty of riches for the taking, however, there were also dangers. Most of the Vikings of the 844 expedition never made it back to their ships. They spent so long stripping the surrounding country of valuables that the Moors were given time to arrange a counterattack and the emir of Cordoba managed to catch the Vikings by surprise. So many of them were captured that the local gallows couldn’t accommodate them all, and the surplus had to be hung from the surrounding palm trees. The heads of the leader and two hundred of his men were then sent as a gift to an emir in Tangier.

  Despite the inglorious end, the expedition had proved that Spain was vulnerable, and if one was willing to risk these dangers, even more fabulous treasure awaited in the lands beyond. The Spanish route would give the Vikings entry into the Mediterranean, and allow them access to the wealth of legendary Rome. This was too tempting to pass up for Hastein, so in the summer of 859 he loaded twenty four hundred men on sixty-two ships, and launched the raid that would cement his reputation.

  It got off to a rocky start. Hastein and Bjorn sailed to Seville, hoping to repeat the success of the previous raid. Unfortunately for them, in the fifteen years since the first attack, the local emir had built a fleet of his own and established a chain of look-out posts along the Atlantic coast. He was well aware of the approaching threat, and had fortified the city as a result. As the Viking longships neared the walls, the Moorish garrison used primitive flame-throwers to spew a burning, oily pitch onto the decks below.93

  A humiliating retreat followed, and Bjorn and Hastein decided to bypass Spain’s northern coast except for the occasional light raid to pick up supplies. After rounding the headlands of what is today Portugal, they came ashore at the Spanish city of Algeciras. Here they burned a local mosque and captured a few slaves and supplies, but were disappointed by the lack of plunder.

  Bad luck continued to plague them. A storm initially prevented them from entering the Straits of Gibraltar, driving them down the western coast of Africa but they eventually managed to salvage most of the fleet and cross through the Straits to the north African city of Nador. Once in the Mediterranean their luck turned. They spent eight days raiding the beaches of Nador, capturing exotic ‘blue’ and black slaves.94 They then crossed over to the Spanish coast, stopping along the way to raid the Balearic islands of Formentera, Majorca, and Minorca.

  With winter approaching, Hastein began looking for a suitable base in southern France where they could sit it out. Sailing up the Ter river, they sacked the monastery at Perpignan and attacked several more cities before coming up against a defensive Frankish force at Arles which required them to find winter quarters on an island in the Côte d’Azur of what is today the French Riviera. The Scandinavians enjoyed the climate, which was warm even in the winter.95 When the spring arrived, they crossed over into Italy and sacked Pisa. It was from the captives of this raid that Hastein probably learned that he was near Rome.

  The chance of sacking the imperial city was the grand prize of all piratical raids, beyond the wildest dreams of most Vikings. If they could pull it off, they would cover themselves in enough glory to be remembered for generations.

  The fleet slipped down the western coast of the peninsula, looking for the great metropolis. When they spotted Luna, a large city, which was the center of the Roman marble trade, they allegedly mistook it for Rome and sailed into its harbor.96

  There was no chance that the Vikings could take it by assault. Perhaps under cover of night they could have evaded detection and slipped through the massive walls unscathed, but it would have been impossible in broad daylight. Sentries had spotted the fleet several miles away and by the time the Vikings reached the city, the alarm bells had warned the garrison and the gates to the city had been closed.

  If brute force wouldn’t suffice, however, there was always the famous Viking cunning. The fleet was put t
o anchor and under a flag of truce some Vikings approached the gate. Their leader, they claimed, was dying and wished to be baptized as a Christian. As proof, they had brought along the ailing Hastein on a litter, groaning and sweating.

  The request presented a moral dilemma for the Italians. As Christians they could hardly turn away a dying penitent, but they didn’t trust the Vikings and expected a trick. The local count, in consultation with the bishop, warily decided to admit Hastein, but made sure that he was heavily guarded. A detachment of soldiers was sent to collect Hastein and a small retinue while the rest of the Vikings waited outside.

  Despite the misgivings, the people of Luna flocked to see the curiosity of a dreaded barbarian peacefully inside their city. The Vikings were on their best behavior as they were escorted to the cathedral, remaining silent and respectful. Throughout the service, which probably lasted a few hours, Hastein was a picture of reverence and weakness, a dying man who had finally seen the light. The bishop performed the baptism, and the count stood in as godfather, christening Hastein with a new name. When the rite had concluded, the Vikings respectfully picked up the litter and carried their stricken leader back to the ships.

  That night, a Viking messenger reappeared at the gates, and after thanking the count for allowing the baptism, sadly informed him that Hastein had died. Before he expired, however, he had asked to be given a funeral mass and to be buried in the holy ground of the cathedral cemetery.

  The next day a solemn procession of fifty Vikings, each dressed in long robes of mourning, entered the city carrying Hastein’s corpse on a bier. Virtually all the inhabitants of the city had turned out to witness the event, joining the cavalcade all the way to the cathedral. The bishop, surrounded by a crowd of monks and priests bearing candles, blessed the coffin with holy water, and led the entire procession inside.

  As the bishop launched into the funerary Mass, reminding all good Christians to look forward to the day of resurrection, the coffin lid was abruptly thrown to the ground and a very much alive Hastein leapt out. As he cut down the bishop, his men threw off their cloaks and drew their weapons. A few ran to bar the doors, the rest set about slaughtering the congregation.

  At the same time – perhaps alerted by the tolling bell – Bjorn Ironside led the remaining Vikings into the city and they fanned out, looking for treasure. The plundering lasted for the entire day. Portable goods were loaded onto the ships, the younger citizens were spared to be sold as slaves, and the rest were killed. Finally, when night began to fall, Hastein called off the attack. Since nothing more could fit on their ships, they set fire to the city and sailed away.97 For the next two years, the Norsemen criss-crossed the Mediterranean, raiding both the African and European coasts. There are even rumors that they tried to sack Alexandria in Egypt, but were apparently unable to take it by force or stealth.

  By 861, they were ready to return home with their plunder. As they neared the Straits of Gibraltar, however, they found a Moorish fleet blocking their way. Hastein and Bjorn were probably not too worried. The Moors were novice sailors – this was their first fleet and it had been constructed for the sole purpose of intercepting the Vikings. The Viking ships, by contrast, were faster, more maneuverable, and piloted by seasoned, veteran sailors. Confident of their skills, the Vikings closed to attack.

  Most of them got an unpleasant shock. The Moors had brought with them their portable flamethrowers and had even mounted some on their ships. As soon as the first longships were in range, the Moors sprayed the burning oil over the Viking prows. The wooden decks, caulked with pitch, immediately caught fire, and the entire fleet broke up in disorder. Of the sixty ships that entered the battle, only twenty escaped the Mediterranean.

  Both Hastein and Bjorn survived the disaster, but the experience had dented what had otherwise been a brilliant raid. To recoup their losses, the two leaders decided to plunder the northern coast of Spain. This time they attacked Pamplona, capital of the little Christian kingdom of Navarra. Its king, García, happened to be in the city when the Vikings attacked and was captured. He was ransomed for the tidy sum of seventy thousand gold pieces, and with this last victory behind them, the Vikings returned to the Loire.

  At this point, the two leaders parted ways. Bjorn departed for Scandinavia where he lived out his life as a wealthy and famous sea-king. His colleague, Hastein, returned to his old haunts, looting the Loire valley and collecting various payments from the Frankish king, Charles the Bald. In 885 he took part in the siege of Paris, and when it petered out, he – by now in his late sixties – crossed over the Channel to invade England.

  Wessex, however, was no longer the easy target it had once been, and after five years of fruitless raiding, Hastein disappears from history. His remarkable career, which spanned almost four decades of plundering, made him one of the most feared men of his times. In an age where travel was severely limited, cities from north Africa to the British Isles had learned to dread his name. His most frequent victims, the French, probably had it right when they called him “the lusty and terrifying old warrior of the Loire and Somme”.

  Both Bjorn and Hastein – and the other veterans who had experienced it – must have frequently retold the story of their exploits. It made for a wonderful way to pass the time on a cold northern night, and undoubtedly gained many lurid details around the warm hearth of a mead hall. It had been a daring adventure, which rightly cemented the reputations of its leaders. But unlike Ragnar Lothbrok’s sack of Paris, the great raid inspired no duplicates. The western Mediterranean was simply too far away and its coasts were inhabited by too many well-armed and organized enemies. The Vikings needed to establish footholds, bases from which they could extend their reach, and neither the various Islamic Caliphates nor the Frankish empire were going to allow that.

  The Mediterranean was abandoned as a site of possible raiding, and the Danes concentrated on England and France.98 This however, was just the start of the great age of Viking discovery. Even as Hastein and Bjorn set out on their adventure, Norwegian Vikings had started the push west.

  Chapter 12

  The Frontier Republic

  “It is a still and silent sea that drowns a man.”

  - Edda of Sæmund the Wise

  Most Viking discoveries were made by island hopping. Sometime towards the end of the eighth century, the Vikings discovered the Shetlands, an archipelago located roughly sixty miles north of the Scotland. This uninhabited cluster of more than three hundred rocky islands was probably found by Norwegian Vikings since it lies almost directly west of Bergen, Norway’s largest western port. The Vikings used them for stock raising, mostly sheep and cattle, to resupply ships headed south.

  About fifty years after the discovery of the Shetlands, Viking explorers found the Faeroe Islands a hundred and seventy miles to the northwest. These seventeen treeless islands were used for the same purpose as the Shetlands, namely the production of wool and salted meat.

  They had no reason to keep going west. The Faeroes themselves, were well out of the way of the main target of the British Isles, and any further rocky little islands would have been too remote – and given the sudden storms and frequent fogs of the North Sea – too dangerous to be worth visiting.

  The first Vikings to reach Iceland, therefore, did so purely by accident. Viking sailors reckoned through careful observation, and trial and error, not sophisticated navigational tools. Land was found by noting changes in the color of water, differences in the flight patterns of birds, and the presence of driftwood. The Vikings calculated latitude by the midday sun during the day, and by the stars at night. If neither of those two options were available, they relied on instinct. Skippers were notoriously pragmatic. The Laxdæla Saga tells the story of Olaf the Peacock who got hopelessly lost in a fog and drifted for days. When it finally lifted, there was a heated debate about what direction to go. The crew voted for a particular direction and informed Olaf of their choice. The grizzled captain ignored them and told his veteran navigator to pi
ck the direction. ‘I want only the shrewdest one to decide‘, he said, ‘because in my opinion, the council of fools is all the more dangerous the more of them there are.’

  Around the middle of the ninth century, a Norwegian named Naddodd got lost on his way to the Faeroe islands, overshooting his destination by four hundred miles. When he finally spotted land, he had the crew fan out looking for human settlement to try to figure out where they were. When they could find none, he scaled a mountain and looked into the interior, seeing nothing but a vast icy plain of glaciers and frozen fields. There was no smoke from hearth fires – a sign that at least this part of the land was uninhabited – so Naddodd returned to his ships, just as a heavy snow began to fall. It seemed appropriate to give this new country a name, so Naddodd chose ‘Snowland’ after its chief characteristic.

  The landing party were undoubtedly disappointed that there were no monasteries to raid, but when they returned to Norway, Naddodd and his crew told how there was good land for the taking to the northwest. Word eventually spread to Sweden where a merchant named Garthar decided to find it for himself. With a bit of good luck he managed to retrace Naddodd’s route and landed on the east coast of the new country.99 Instead of coming ashore, however, he sailed along the coast to find out large it was. By the time he had concluded that it was an island the weather was worsening, so he and the crew beached the ships and built a house on the northern coast, staying alive through the bitter winter by harvesting seagull eggs and other marine life. Since there were no predators, and it was seemingly uninhabited, Garthar named the island ‘Gartharsholmi‘ after himself and returned to Scandinavia.100 At least one of his men was impressed enough to want to stay behind. A free man named Nattfari (Nightwalker), remained on the homestead with a male and female slave for company, becoming the island’s first settlers.