The Bullish Battle Between Thorfinn Karlsefni and North American Natives

In the first decade of the 11th century, several Nordic adventurers were said to have led expeditions to North America. Leif Eiriksson was reportedly the first of these explorers to set foot in the New World, setting up his camp somewhere on the southeastern Canadian coast, presumably in the vicinity of Labrador, Newfoundland, and Nova Scotia. Leif was lucky in picking the location of his camp, for he was apparently far enough away from native settlements to preclude any aggression from the locals. Instead, Leif Eiriksson gathered exotic North American merchandise in peace, and then set sail back to Greenland to sell his wares and tell tales about his adventure. Other adventurers who followed Leif Eiriksson’s stead in the early 11th century had less luck avoiding the natives of North America. Among these later adventurers was Thorfinn Karlsefni, leader of one of the more ambitious expeditions to the land that Leif called Vinland.

From the loose timeline that can be formed from Icelandic sagas and folkloric tradition, the expedition of Thorfinn Karlsefni can be dated to around 1003-1006 or 1007-1009. As the story goes, Thorfinn and his new wife, Gudrid, led a large group of people to the New World, hoping to start a settlement or trading hub. In the Saga of the Greenlanders, sixty-five people were said to have signed up for Thorfinn’s expedition. Eirik the Red’s Saga, however, claimed that Thorfinn Karlsefni’s crew was only the leading piece of a larger effort, with the total number of settlers being 140 people divided between three ships.

Stocked with supplies and some livestock, Thorfinn Karlsefni and the expedition members set sail for North America. Wind and waves did little to hamper the sailors as they made their way to the New World, and the crews soon found themselves sailing along the coast of the vast lands that Leif had enthusiastically described. Thorfinn Karlsefni decided to make his camp at a spot dominated by grassy fields, which eventually gave way to deer-filled forests, crisscrossed by streams full of fish. The site, with its access to resources from the plains, forests and water, was a perfect location for settlement—as such, the region was already settled by the North American natives, and these locals were curious and concerned about the new foreign presence sailing up to their shore.

After observing the Nordic settlers for a time, the natives eventually made contact. Arriving by boat or on foot, bands of natives peacefully approached Thorfinn Karlsefni’s settlement. Although there was a language barrier, the two peoples were able to create a limited level of communication through hand signals and other means. Using diligent pointing and gesturing, the natives and settlers began bartering. According to the sagas, the natives often brought animal pelts, which the Greenlanders took in exchange for dairy products and cloth.

Milk and its derivative products were allegedly a great hit with the locals near Thorfinn’s settlement. Yet, despite enjoying the byproducts of the settlers’ livestock, the natives reportedly found the actual animals brought by the Greenlanders to be incredibly bizarre and frightening. In particular, an ornery bull belonging to Thorfinn Karlsefni was said to have been the thing of nightmares for native traders who saw it. Thorfinn and the settlers made note of that fear, and their perceptiveness would be helpful when the good relations between natives and foreigners inevitably broke down.

Why the settlers and the natives began fighting varies from tale to tale. In the Saga of the Greenlanders, hostilities erupted after one of the native traders was killed in a bartering dispute. Eirik the Red’s Saga, in contrast, curiously placed blame on the ill-tempered bull, saying that the beast so frightened and outraged the natives that they rallied an army and attacked the settlement to rid the world of the horned devil and its owners.

According to the Saga of the Greenlanders, the bull would play a pivotal role in the battle. Knowing that the natives feared the creature, Thorfinn Karlsefni reportedly had the bull dragged into battle. As the story goes, he lured the native forces into a natural bottleneck, with water on one side and dense forest on the other. When the native force advanced through this carefully chosen narrow corridor, Thorfinn prodded the bull forward and sent it charging against the army of locals. As much of the cloth traded to the natives by the settlers had been red, the previous bartering perhaps made the bull’s rampage all the more effective. Seizing the momentum, the Greenlanders readied their weapons and followed the bull’s wake of carnage into battle. Thorfinn Karlsefni, with his Viking Age weaponry and rampaging bull, won the skirmish and forced the natives to retreat. Yet, the Greenlanders now found the atmosphere in Vinland to be too hostile for a long-term settlement and, after filling their ships with North American goods, they decided to set sail back to Greenland.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

• The Vinland Sagas (Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga) translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008. 

The Bad Luck Of York In 1069

Although William “the Conqueror” of Normandy defeated King Harold Godwinson and seized the throne of England in 1066, pockets of resistance continued to fight back against the new Norman regime. Two branches of Anglo-Saxon royals continued to inspire resistance against William. Until around 1068 or 1069, the surviving sons of the late Harold Godwinson launched unsuccessful raids from Ireland against William’s lands and vassals. Alternatively, Northumbrian lords looked with hope to Edgar the Ætheling (grandson of King Edmund Ironside, r. 1016). Edgar, a teen when the conquest occurred, was quickly declared king of England upon Harold Godwinson’s death, but William the Conqueror consolidated power quickly enough to stop Edgar from being officially crowned. Nevertheless, the Northumbrians continued to fight on Edgar’s behalf.

Friction between the Normans and the Northumbrians began to increase in 1067 and 1068, when William the Conqueror imposed taxes on his conquered land and started a great construction spree to build castles that would cement his power in England. Heightened tax, civil unrest, and increasing Norman military presence in Northumbria forced Edgar the Ætheling to flee to Scotland in 1068. A breaking point occurred in early 1069, when Northumbrian rebels ambushed and killed the Norman earl, Robert de Comines, who had been given an administrative role in the north. After slaying the Norman earl, the Northumbrian rebels converged at York and Edgar the Ætheling reportedly returned from Scotland to meet with them. Yet, William the Conqueror quickly mobilized an army and confronted the rebels near York before they could grow into a bigger threat. King William won the battle, but the rebellion leaders, including Edgar the Ætheling, were able to escape. After dispersing the rebels, William the Conqueror reportedly let his troops pillage York and increased the local garrison, additionally building new forts in the city.

Although pushed back by the Normans, the Northumbrian rebels would soon find outside help. The Anglo-Saxon nobles and royalty apparently reached out to their friends in Denmark, and successfully arranged for a Danish fleet to arrive in England by September, 1069. According to the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, the Danes sent to England 240 ships, led by Jarl Asbjörn, the brother of King Sweyn II of Denmark. Edgar the Ætheling and his followers were said to have joined this Danish fleet, and together they moved against the Normans at York. By this time, William the Conqueror and the bulk of his army had withdrawn from the city, leaving behind only a garrison. This barracks of Normans in the city, however, soon learned of the approaching coalition, and, knowing that they did not have the strength to resist an attack, the Normans in York reportedly adopted drastic measures to spite the Danes and rebels. According to the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, “The Normans, who garrisoned the forts, set fire to the adjacent houses, fearing that they might be of service to the Danes in filling up the trenches; and the flames spreading, destroyed the whole city, together with the monastery of St. Peter” (AD 1069).

Despite the Normans setting York alight in hopes of making their forts impregnable, the Danes and rebel Northumbrians still found a way to scale the fortifications and defeat the garrison. The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester went on to report, “the Danish fleet arrived before the city was entirely consumed, and the forts being stormed the same day, and more than three thousand of the Normans killed…the ships drew off laden with plunder” (AD 1069). Unfortunately for Edgar the Ætheling and the Northumbrian rebels, the reliability of Jarl Asbjörn and the Danish fleet was wanting. When William the Conqueror marched once again toward York to restore order, he was reportedly able to strike up a deal with Asbjörn, allowing the Danish troops to forage and pillage Northumbria without hindrance as long as they left after winter was over. With such a deal in place, William the Conqueror was able to force Edgar the Ætheling and the rebels back into hiding, and York was once again occupied by the Normans.

By this point, all in 1069, the city of York had been twice seized by rebel forces and twice retaken by William the Conqueror’s Normans. In the second round of hostilities, York had the further misfortune of being burned by the Norman garrison and looted by the opportunist Danes, before being exposed to more punitive actions once William the Conqueror’s forces regained the city. While these direct consequences of war hit the city hard, war’s more indirect effects also caused havoc. As armies of Anglo-Saxons, Normans, and Scandinavians had been frequently trampling through Northumbria since 1066, with each group demanding food and resources from the region’s people and land, the English north was beginning to experience extreme famine. As the Chronicle of Florence of Worcester colorfully stated, “throughout nearly the whole of England, so severe a famine prevailed in most parts of the kingdom, but chiefly in Northumbria and the adjacent provinces, that men were driven to feed on the flesh of horses, dogs, cats, and even human beings” (AD 1069).

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Bayeux tapestry elucidated (1856), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012.
• The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Edgar-the-Aetheling 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Malcolm-III-Canmore 

The First Scandinavian Reported To Have Seen North America

Two sagas from the 13th century—Eirik the Red’s Saga and the Saga of the Greenlanders—unanimously declare that Leif Eiriksson was the first known Scandinavian to set foot on North America. Despite that acknowledgment, the Saga of the Greenlanders also claimed that at least one other person had seen the New World before Leif made his journey. The person in question was an Icelandic merchant named Bjarni Herjolfsson. Around 986, Bjarni was reportedly seeing to his trade route between Iceland and Norway when he received news that his father, Herjolf, was joining Eirik the Red’s expedition to settle Greenland. By the time Bjarni returned home, his father had already set sail for the new land. This realization disturbed the merchant—perhaps he was worried about his father’s ability to set up a farm alone, or maybe he was simply a filial type of guy who really loved his father. Whatever the case, Bjarni Herjolfsson quickly set back out to sea in order to meet up with his father in Greenland before winter, and he did not even take the time to unload or sell any of the cargo that he brought back from Norway before leaving port.

With his ship overweight and his navigation rushed, Bjarni soon found himself at the mercy of the weather. As the story goes, he was blown off course by storms and then found himself blinded by dense fog. Lost at sea, he continued sailing until finally, at long last, he spotted land. Yet, the sight of the coast perturbed Bjarni, for he had been given a description of his destination before he had set sail, and the lands he saw ahead were in no way Eirik the Red’s misleadingly-named Greenland. What was before him was an entirely different land.

Still eager to reach his father, Bjarni Herjolfsson did not stop to explore on foot, but instead sailed northward along the coast. He watched the geography change as his journey progressed. At first, the country he saw was extremely forested. Tree-covered hills began to give way to wooded flatlands, followed by a region of snow-capped mountains and a glacier on what seemed to be an island. Upon arriving in this more frigid and snowy place, Bjarni and his crew made the fortuitous decision to start sailing back east. Navigating this new route, the lost Icelanders finally reached Greenland, and Bjarni was reunited with Herjolf. Despite seeing plentiful land to the west, Bjarni apparently never attempted to go back to the places he witnessed. He did, however, spread the word in Greenland and similarly told his story in Norway whenever he visited for business.

Leif Eiriksson, according to the Saga of the Greenlanders, was one of the people reportedly captivated by Bjarni Herjolfsson’s tales of land to the west. Eirik the Red’s Saga, however, cuts Bjarni out of the story and instead insists it was Leif who, while returning home from Norway, was blown off course by storms and discovered the New World by accident. Whatever the case, either tipped off by Bjarni Herjolfsson or carried off course by his own fateful storm, Leif was said to have reached North America around the year 1000 and went one step further than Bjarni by actually stepping foot on the land, which he called Vinland.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

• The Vinland Sagas (Saga of the Greenlanders and Eirik the Red’s Saga) translated by Keneva Kunz. New York: Penguin Classics, 2008.
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/science/encyclopedias-almanacs-transcripts-and-maps/bjarni-herjolfsson  

The Revenge Of Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth Of Orkney Against The Viking, Eyvind Úrarhorn

Eyvind Úrarhorn was a Norwegian man-of-action who supported King Olaf II Haraldsson of Norway (aka St. Olaf, r. 1015-1028) by doing such tasks as hunting down unwanted Vikings in Norwegian waters and forcing out foreign tax collectors who were trying to extort King Olaf’s borderland subjects. In 1018, however, Eyvind Úrarhorn decided to take a break from his domestic duties to go raiding abroad. His Viking expedition brought him to the British Isles, and after some pillaging, Eyvind apparently signed his crew up as mercenaries for a certain King Connor in Ireland. Unfortunately for Eyvind Úrarhorn, the contract with the Irish king brought him into hostile contact with another Viking crew that was skulking around Ireland. In the fall of 1018, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth of Orkney (r. 1014-1020) appeared in Ireland and clashed with the Irish King Connor. Eyvind Úrarhorn, heeding his mercenary contract, joined the Irish side in the battle and fought against the army from Orkney.

King Connor and Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth met in battle at Lough Larne, in Northern Ireland. According to the accounts of the Orkneyinga Saga and the Heimskringla, King Connor won a great victory that day and forced the jarl of Orkney to retreat. The Orkneyinga Saga, describing the battle from Jarl Einar’s point of view, claimed it was a “crushing defeat with heavy loss of life” (chapter 15). The rebuffed Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth was sorely aware that a band of Norwegian mercenaries had aided King Connor during the battle, and although the jarl may not have known who commanded the mercenaries at the time, he was determined to discover who led the group and to seek revenge. For the meantime, however, Eyvind Úrarhorn enjoyed the victory and spent the rest of the year without any harassment from Orkney.

By the summer of 1019, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth had learned of Eyvind’s part in the battle at Lough Larne, and he was keeping his agents busy searching for the Norwegian. It was at this inopportune time that Eyvind Úrarhorn decided to return home to Norway. In a curious move, Eyvind made the bold decision to plot his course past Orkney during his return trip. He might have been able to get away with this move if fate had been kinder, but the weather betrayed Eyvind Úrarhorn, forcing his ship to make landfall. Of all the places he could have been driven ashore, Eyvind was unlucky enough to find himself beached at a place called Osmundwall, located in the southern section of the Orkney archipelago.

Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth soon learned about Eyvind Úrarhorn’s presence in Orkney and he quickly mobilized his fleet, eager to exact his revenge. Before Eyvind could set sail, the jarl’s fleet descended on the Norwegian Vikings and caught them by surprise. In the encounter that ensued, there was not much of a battle, and Jarl Einar was allegedly able to take the stranded crew captive without any difficulty. According to both the Orkneyinga Saga and the Heimskringla, Jarl Einar Wry-Mouth used the situation to execute Eyvind Úrarhorn. With the Viking leader’s death, the jarl’s drive for vengeance was sated, and he ultimately let most of Eyvind’s crew return home. When King Olaf II of Norway learned of his friend’s death, he took no official act against Orkney, although he did begin to show public support for Einar’s rivals on the Orkney Islands, especially for Einar’s brother, Jarl Thorfinn the Mighty (r. 1014-1064), who traveled to Norway to meet with King Olaf II in 1020. During that very year, King Olaf II was likely pleased to learn that Einar Wry-Mouth was murdered by one of Jarl Thorfinn’s associates before the end of 1020.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Scenes from the Bayeux Tapestry, [Public Domain] via flickr.com and Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Orkneyinga Saga, written anonymously approximately c. 1200, translated by Hermann Pálsson and Paul Edwards. New York: Penguin Classics, 1981.
• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.  

The Back-And-Forth Heists For Saint Olaf’s Cargo

Around 1015, Saint Olaf (King Olaf II Haraldsson) ended his career as a Viking and mercenary to proclaim himself ruler of Norway. His ascension ended fifteen years of foreign domination in Norway, as prior to Olaf’s appearance, the Norwegian jarls had been paying tribute to Denmark and Sweden. Therefore, Saint Olaf spent his inaugural year forcing the Norwegian jarls into submission or exile, and systematically rooted out foreign tax collectors from his lands. Yet, even after asserting Norway’s independence and gaining the title of king, Saint Olaf ‘s court was missing some final touches. It had been around fifteen years since Norway had last been ruled by its own king, and Olaf found the realm inadequately supplied with regal robes, rare pelts, fine tablecloths, and other such items that any self-respecting monarch might need. In order to obtain these goods, Saint Olaf was said to have partnered with a merchant by the name of Guthleik Gerzki, a prominent trader who knew his way around the Baltic Sea markets.

After forming a contract with Saint Olaf, Guthleik Gerzki set sail around 1016 to procure all the regalia and adornments that the Norwegian monarch desired. His first stop was the island of Gotland, but the merchant soon continued on his way, traveling across the sea and going inland to the trade hub of Holmgard, which is now called Novgorod. There, Guthleik Gerzki was able to find everything on his shopping list, so he began his return trip to Norway on a ship laden with robes, cloth and fur intended for Saint Olaf’s court.

Unfortunately for Guthleik Gerzki, he was living in the Viking Age, and the Baltic Sea was no less dangerous than the English Channel in regards to pirate raids. Furthermore, as Saint Olaf’s ascendance had annoyed the Danish and Swedish monarchs, Vikings were further incentivized to attack Norwegian ships, as they might be rewarded by their kings for damaging Saint Olaf’s interests. With this in mind, a certain Thorgaut Skardi, a Swede of uncertain rank, learned of Saint Olaf’s partnership with the merchant, and when he gathered this information, Thorgaut was determined not to let Guthleik Gerzki return to Norway. Through gossip and spies, Thorgaut was able to track down the merchant and intercepted him in the waters off the mainland of Sweden, presumably near the island of Öland. Guthleik was caught completely off guard by the attack, and he and his crew were quickly overpowered. Without much difficulty, Thorgaut slew Guthleik and stole the expensive cargo that was meant for Saint Olaf. After obtaining this loot, Thorgaut sailed back to Sweden, intending to give the best items of the haul to the Swedish king.

News of Guthleik Gerzki’s death, and the seizure of Saint Olaf’s goods, spread with incredible speed to Norway. The theft particularly infuriated a man named Eyvind Urarhorn, an able supporter of Saint Olaf who had a history of hunting down foreign tax collectors in Norway. As he was skilled at tracking foreign agents, Eyvind took it upon himself to recover his monarch’s stolen cargo. On his own initiative, he was said to have sailed to the island of Öland and there began tracking his prey along the coast of Sweden. As the story goes, Eyvind Urarhorn succeeded in intercepting Thorgaut Skardi before the pirate could reach the Swedish king. Eyvind reportedly killed Thorgaut, reclaimed the stolen cargo for Norway, and brought the merchandise back to Saint Olaf by the fall of 1017, finally uniting the king with his long-delayed royal robes, tablecloths and furs.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Norwegians landing in Iceland, painted by Oscar Wergeland (1844–1910), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.

Bishop Edmund Of Lindisfarne Won His Bishopric With A Joke

The bishopric of Lindisfarne was one of the most beleaguered of the ecclesiastical seats of power in medieval England. It was directly pillaged by Vikings in 793 and 875—even worse, Lindisfarne and the Kingdom of Northumbria were conquered by the so-called Great Heathen Army of Vikings in 867. When, by 876, it became apparent to the clergy of Lindisfarne that the Vikings in Northumbria were not going anywhere anytime soon, they made the ambitious decision to relocate their bishopric to a safer location in the south. Packing up their most holy relic, the body of St. Cuthbert, the priests of Lindisfarne set off to find their new home. For the remainder of the 9th century and most of the 10th century, they favored Chester-le-Street. Yet, in 995, the long-wandering bishopric finally reestablished itself at Durham.

Bishop Aldhun was credited with moving the bishopric from Chester-le-Street to Durham. Given the recent relocation and the general chaos for the bishopric over the last centuries, it is little wonder that the bishopric in Durham fell into some confusion after the death of Bishop Aldhun around 1018. As the story goes, the clergy of Durham could not decide on Aldhun’s successor and the bishopric remained leaderless as the debates went on unresolved. For nearly three years, no leader for the bishopric was decided upon. That was about to change, however, when a group of priests met in Durham around 1020.

During the meeting, the subject of the long-delayed appointment of a bishop was discussed. As had happened at other such meetings over the last two years, the priests could not come to an agreement, and it seemed as if the bishopric would continue to be neglected. In that gloomy and indecisive atmosphere, a certain well-liked priest named Edmund was suddenly inspired to lighten the mood of the unproductive meeting with a joke. According to the monk and chronicler Florence of Worcester (d. 1118), “Edmund stood up, and said in joke, ‘Why do you not choose me your bishop?’” (Chronicle of Florence of Worcester, AD1020). This joke or jest made lightbulbs flicker on in the heads of the priests present at the meeting. They eyed Edmund as a shared epiphany spread over the room—Edmund was a pious, well-liked, ordained priest—in other words, he was an ideal nominee for bishop. Realizing this, the clergymen thanked Edmund for volunteering and vowed to support him in his bid for the bishopric. Soon after the meeting, Edmund reportedly was awarded with a supernatural show of support. According to Florence of Worcester and his contemporary chronicler Symeon of Durham (d. 1130), disembodied voices in the tomb of Saint Cuthbert were heard proclaiming Edmund as the rightful bishop.

Although this faction of clergymen apparently threw their support in with Edmund in 1020, and this date usually marks the start of his time as bishop, the campaign for the bishopric may have taken longer. According to the aforementioned Florence of Worcester, it was not until 1025 that Edmund became the undisputed bishop of Lindisfarne and Durham. Bishop Edmund would continue to rule the church of Durham until his death, which occurred sometime between 1041 and 1048.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (painting of a church council by Francisco de Zurbarán (d. 1664), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Chronicle of Florence of Worcester translated by Thomas Forester. London: Petter and Galpin, originally published 1854.
• The Anglo-Saxon Chronicle translated by Benjamin Thorpe in 1861 and republished by Cambridge University Press, 2012. 
• https://archive.org/details/historicalworks00simegoog/page/n274 
• http://www.catholic-hierarchy.org/bishop/bedmnd.html 
• https://www.durhamworldheritagesite.com/history/prince-bishops/early-bishops 
• https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803100106681  

The First Great Viking Attack On The Caspian Sea

Around 912 or 913, a huge fleet of Vikings, recruited primarily from the emerging Rus communities, entered the Caspian Sea for the first time, giving the locals on that shore a taste of the danger that Britain, France and Spain had already been dealing with for around a century. Mas’ūdī (d. 957), a traveler and scholar from Baghdad, claimed that the fleet of raiders numbered around 500 ships, a force that no one would want to see on their coastal waters. Interestingly, the fleet struck a deal with the Khazars, who, at that time, dominated the region between the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea. The Khazars reportedly gave the raiders access to their river systems in exchange for a cut of the future plunder that would be looted from the Caspian Sea communities. As the story goes, the leaders of the Viking fleet agreed to the deal and they sailed unobstructed through Khazar land, reaching the Caspian Sea without any difficulty.

Upon arriving at the Caspian, the Vikings did what they did best. Using their well-honed raiding strategies, the fleet sought out small islands to set up camps from which to assault nearby settlements. Mas’ūdī described the scene: “The Rus spilled rivers of blood, seized women and children and property, raided and everywhere destroyed and burned. The people who lived on these shores were in turmoil, for they had never been attacked by an enemy from the sea” (Meadows of Gold and Mines of Precious Gems, Penguin ed. pg. 145). The raiders continued their operations in the Caspian region for many months, accumulating a great amount of plunder, but also giving the local authorities time to gather forces against the invaders. By the time local armies began commandeering merchant and fishing vessels in order to launch attacks on the island camps of the Vikings, the raiders knew it was about time to start heading home.

With the local forces around the Caspian Sea mobilized, the situation became a race to Khazar territory. The Khazars, it seems, were playing both sides—they wanted their cut of the plundered loot, but they also did not hinder their angry neighbors from setting up ambushes at the mouths of Khazar-controlled rivers that connected to the Caspian. When the Vikings sent the prearranged cut of the loot to the Khazars, they were tipped off about the ambush that had been arranged along the river.

Despite being warned, the fleet of raiders continued on their path and engaged the forces that were lying in wait. The ambushers, according to Mas’ūdī, numbered around 15,000, and, despite losing the element of surprise, they were said to have still won the day. Yet, it was not a complete victory for the local forces—thousands of the raiders were able to break through the hostile lines and continue sailing up the river to friendlier territory. Unfortunately for the Caspian Sea region, the ambush did little to disincentivize further raids, and fleets of Rus warriors would return to pillage the region several more times in the 10th century.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Sadko painted by Nicholas Roerich (1874–1947), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Mas’ūdī’s Meadows of Gold and Mines of Precious Gems in Ibn Fadlan and the Land of Darkness: Arab Travellers in the Far North, translated and edited by Paul Lunde and Catoline Stone. New York, Penguin Classics, 2012.

Saint Olaf Carved His Own Figurehead For His Flagship

Around 1016, King Olaf II (Saint Olaf, r. 1015-1028) of Norway pulled together a fleet in preparation for the upcoming sea battle of Nesjar against his rival, Jarl Sweyn Hákonsson. It was a modest armada, reportedly numbering only seven or eight ships at the beginning, of which only three could be classified as warships. Before the day of the battle, Saint Olaf would recruit more ships and crews, yet his force was said to have still remained far fewer than that of Jarl Sweyn. What Olaf’s force lacked in quantity, it made up for in quality—before barging into Norwegian politics, Olaf had spent years as a Viking, giving him ample battle experience and enough treasure to equip his most trusted men with the day’s latest armors and weaponry. As such, even though Saint Olaf’s fleet in 1016 was not the largest sea force in the north, it was still a formidable fleet that Olaf was proud to call his own.

With the fleet formed, Olaf picked out which vessel was to be his flagship, but no ship, especially a flagship, could be complete without a figurehead adorning the prow. In this regard, Saint Olaf reportedly decided to give the ship a personal touch. Instead of commissioning an artisan, Saint Olaf was said to have procured a set of woodworking tools for himself and promptly set about carving his ideal figurehead with his own hands. The historian Snorri Sturluson (c. 1179-1241), claimed that Olaf “was skilled and had a sure eye for all kinds of handicraft work,” so the final product must have been an admirable piece of art (Heimskringla, Saint Olaf’s Saga, 3). Interestingly, out of all the fearsome creatures he could have chosen to depict, the king decided to adorn his prow with a simple kingly head. When the figurehead was complete, Saint Olaf gave his flagship the unimaginative name of Man’s Head. The regal wooden visage apparently became the next big ship-fashion trend, and, before long, other chieftains put in orders for their own ships to be decorated with various wooden faces.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Construction of longships, painted by Nicholas Roerich  (1874–1947), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Heimskringla, by Snorri Sturluson and translated by Lee Hollander. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1964, 2018.
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/religion 
• https://avaldsnes.info/en/informasjon/olav-den-hellige/ 
• https://weaponsandwarfare.com/2018/12/03/the-battle-of-nesjar/ 
• https://www.oxfordreference.com/view/10.1093/oi/authority.20110803100229885