The Empire Writes Back: The Heathen Army

Continuing his summer challenge, the next essay from Ben Patterson

The previous essay described, among many other points, the exploratory voyages of the Norsemen, taking them from Iceland to eastern Canada and establishing settlements in all of these regions. There was one other major place upon which the Vikings established themselves, but it was far less exploration and far more conquest – the British Isles.

Let us set the scene; prior to 865 AD, what we know today as England, Scotland and Wales were quite different – while Scotland remained largely intact as its own sovereign kingdom, England and Wales were split between many different petty kings. England is the focal point of the Norse connection, so we shall go into more detail there. By this point, there was no unified idea of ‘England’ as a kingdom; rather, the Anglo-Saxons who dwelled there ruled over a number of different territories, each one presided over by its own king. The primary three of these were Northumbria in the north, Mercia in the Midlands and Wessex in the south, though there were a number of other, smaller states beside these. Around 800 AD or so (though there is some debate as to whether this should be pushed further back), the “Viking Age” began, heralding a period of Northman terror across Europe and even as far as the Middle East. It would not be until the aforementioned 865 that these raids into Britain became an actual invasion, though.

Now, according to the mythology (from which the Norse were, obviously, inspired by the 2013 TV show Vikings), the fiercest of the early Viking raiders was a warrior named Ragnar Lodbrok – or, Ragnar ‘Hairy-Breeches’. After decades of plundering and pillaging, old Ragnar was captured by the King of Northumbria, Ælla, and thrown into a pit of snakes. Understandably a little bit miffed at this, Ragnar’s sons launched a joint invasion of Northumbria and the surrounding petty kingdoms, thus beginning the era of Danish occupation. Ragnar had five or six sons (with two sometimes being considered the same individual), but the most important of these to our focus is Ivar the Boneless (we are not quite sure why he was called this – in Old Norse, ‘bone’ could be translated to ‘leg’ so it was possible he was called ‘Legless’ due to some deformity, or it has also been proposed that he just couldn’t get it up), Halfdan Ragnarson (because he doesn’t get a cool nickname, I suppose – sometimes Halfdan is equated to an often-mentioned additional Viking named Hvitserk, while other times they are considered separate individuals), Sigurd Snake-in-the-Eye (which is possibly the primary contender for the best epithet here, stemming from a peculiar deformity in his eye that made it appear as looking similar to the ouroboros) and Björn Ironside (so-called because he was supposedly a fierce warrior that could not be injured in battle).

The many apocryphal stories surrounding the legendary Ragnar Lodbrok could constitute an entire essay on its own, but the general gist is that it is likely he existed, but over time the tales and feats of other Viking raiders at the time have been absorbed into the general mythos of old Hairy-Breeches and attributed to him. Outside of Norse mythology, there has never been any credible evidence of Ælla’s snake-pit either, which is a shame, as having a special snake-pit to toss people into sounds like a wonderful idea, if you ask me. What is factual, however, is the invasion that the sons of Ragnar led. In 865 the ‘Great Heathen Army’ came forth from Scandinavia to bring the wrath of the Old Gods unto the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, and at this they were quite successful at first. By 866 York and its surrounding fiefdoms had been captured, and by 867 Northumbria and East Anglia had fallen to the invaders. This year also includes the death of that pesky Ælla whom – according to the Norse accounts – was “blood-eagled” by the sons of Ragnar. I shan’t describe the process of blood-eagling here in case any dear readers are eating food at this time, but look it up – it’s gnarly.

By 878, 13 years after the Great Heathen Army first arrived, only Wessex remained of the Anglo-Saxon kingdoms, led by a fellow named Alfred. Now, old Alfie wasn’t just mediocre, or pretty good, or even Alfred the Neat – no, he was Alfred the Great, and this epithet was well-earned. The unstoppable Viking hordes were decisively stopped by Alfred and his forces at the Battle of Edington (beating them so badly that the Danish general, Guthrum, was forcibly baptised. Imagine losing so hard you get turned Christian!), some time after which the ‘Treaty of Alfred and Guthrum’ was signed. This treaty effectively split the lands of England vertically in two; Wessex retained the bottom half, whilst the top half went to the Danes as part of the aptly-named ‘Danelaw’. This treaty defined and legitimised the territory of both parties and defined legal proceedings for disputes between Anglo-Saxons and Danes. Plans were also drawn up to build a wall between the two kingdoms to keep the Danes out, and make them pay for its construction, but strangely that never came to pass…

As of writing this, I have been informed to stick under 1000 words for these essays; thus, I am going to split the intended 2 into several more – if Hollywood can split The Hobbit into three films, then why can’t I split one essay into multiple? Definitely not still sour about that…