Читать книгу Canute the Great, 995 (circa)-1035, and the Rise of Danish Imperialism during the Viking Age - Laurence Marcellus Larson - Страница 12
THE CONQUEST OF ENGLAND—1003–1013
ОглавлениеDuring the five years of rivalry between Olaf and Sweyn (995–1000), England had enjoyed comparative peace. Incursions, indeed, began again in 997; but these were clearly of the earlier type, not invasions like the movements led by Olaf and Sweyn. Who the leaders were at this time we do not know; but the Northern kings were in those years giving and taking in marriage and busily plotting each other's destruction, so we conclude that the undertakings continued to be of the private sort, led, perhaps, by Norse chiefs who had found life in Norway uncongenial after King Olaf had begun to persecute the heathen worshippers.
The English had now come to realise the importance of the upper Irish Sea as a rendezvous for all forms of piratical bands; and the need of aggressive warfare at this point was clearly seen. Accordingly, in the year 1000, Ethelred collected a fleet and an army and harried the Norse settlements in Cumberland and on the Isle of Man. The time was opportune for a movement of this sort, as no reinforcements from the North could be expected that year. The expedition, however, accomplished nothing of importance; for the fleet that Ethelred had hoped to intercept did not return to the western waters but sailed to Normandy.[52] Ethelred was angry with Duke Richard of Normandy for sheltering his enemies, and proceeded to attack his duchy with his usual ill success.[53]
Nevertheless, the hostilities terminated favourably for Ethelred, as the Norman duke offered his beaten enemy not only peace, but alliance. Recent events in the North may have caused Richard to reflect. The diplomacy of Sweyn, culminating in the partition of Norway, had made Denmark a state of great importance. Sweyn's designs on England were probably suspected; at any rate, Normandy for the moment seemed willing to support England. In early spring, 1002, the bond was further strengthened by a marriage between Ethelred and Duke Richard's sister Emma, who later married her husband's enemy, the Danish Canute. That same year England was once more rid of the enemy through the payment of Danegeld.[54]
The prospects for continued peace in England were probably better in 1002 than in any other year since the accession of Ethelred. But toward the end of the year, all that gold and diplomacy had built up was ruined by a royal order, the stupidity of which was equalled only by its criminality. On Saint Brice's Day (November 13), the English rose, not to battle but to murder. It had been planned on that date to rid the country of all its Danish inhabitants. How extensive the territory was that was thus stained with blood, we are not informed; but such an order could not have been carried out in the Danelaw. In justification of his act, Ethelred pleaded that he had heard of a Danish conspiracy, directed not only against his own life, but against the lives of the English nobility as well.
It is likely that, when England bought peace earlier in the year, a number of the vikings remained in the land, intending, perhaps, to settle permanently; such arrangements were by no means unusual. The massacre of Saint Brice's may, therefore, have had for its object the extermination of the raiders that came in 1001. But these were not the only ones slain: among the victims were Gunhild, King Sweyn's sister, and her husband, the ealdorman Pallig.[55] It is probable that Pallig, though a Saxon official, was a Dane living among the Danes in some Scandinavian settlement in South-western England.[56] We are told that Ethelred had treated him well, had given him lands and honours; but he did not remain faithful to his lord; only the year before, when the vikings were in Devon, he joined them with a number of ships. Pallig no doubt deserved the punishment of a traitor, but it would have been politic in his case to show mercy. If he was, as has been conjectured from the form of his name, connected with the family of Palna Toki, the famous Danish archer and legendary organiser of the Jomburg fraternity, he was bound to Sweyn by double ties, for Palna Toki was Sweyn's reputed foster-father.[57]
Sweyn Forkbeard at once prepared to take revenge for the death of his kinsfolk. The next year (1003), his sails were seen from the cliffs of the Channel shore. But before proceeding to the attack, he seems to have visited his Norman friend, Duke Richard the Good. For some reason, displeasure, perhaps, at the shedding of noble Scandinavian blood on Saint Brice's Day, the duke was ready to repudiate his alliance with his English brother-in-law. The two worthies reached the agreement that Normandy should be an open market for English plunder and a refuge for the sick and wounded in the Danish host.[58] Evidently Sweyn was planning an extended campaign.
Having thus secured himself against attacks from the rear, Sweyn proceeded to Exeter, which was delivered into his hands by its faithless Norman commander Hugo.[59] In the surrender of Exeter, we should probably see the first fruit of the new Danish-Norman understanding. From this city the Danes carried destruction into the southern shires. The following year (1004), East Anglia was made to suffer. Ulfketel, the earl of the region, was not prepared to fight and made peace with Sweyn; but the Danes did not long observe the truce. After they had treacherously attacked Thetford, the earl gathered his forces and tried to intercept Sweyn's marauding bands on their way back to the ships; but though the East Anglians fought furiously, the Danes escaped. The opposition that Sweyn met in the half-Danish East Anglia seems to have checked his operations. The next year he left the land.[60]
The forces of evil seemed finally to have spent their strength, for the years 1007 and 1008 were on the whole comparatively peaceful. Those same years show considerable energy on the part of the English: in the Pentecostal season, May, 1008, the King met his "wise men" at Eanham, and a long legislative enactment saw the light.[61] It was hoped that by extensive and thorough-going reforms the national vigour might be restored. Among other things provisions were made for an extensive naval establishment, based on a contribution that grew into the ship money of later fame. A large number of ships were actually assembled; but the treacherous spirit and the jealous conduct of some of the English nobles soon ruined the efficiency of the fleet; the new navy went to pieces at a moment when its service was most sorely needed. For in that year, 1009, a most formidable enemy appeared in the Channel: the vikings of Jom had left their stronghold on the Oder and were soon to re-establish themselves on the Thames.[62]
For about two decades Sigvaldi ruled at Jomburg; but after the battle of Swald he disappears from the sagas: all that we learn is that he was slain on some expedition to England. Perhaps he was one of the victims of Saint Brice's (1002); or he may have perished in one of the later raids. His death must, however, be dated earlier than 1009; for in that year his brother Thurkil came to England, we are told, to take revenge for a slain brother.[63]
Thurkil's fleet appeared at Sandwich in July. Associated with the tall Dane was a short, thick-set Norwegian, Olaf the Stout, a young viking of royal blood who later won renown as the missionary King of Norway and fell in war against Canute the Great. In August came a second fleet, under the leadership of Eglaf and Heming, Thurkil's brother. The fleets joined at Thanet; this time nearly all the southern counties had to suffer. The host wintered on the lower Thames and during the winter months plundered the valley up as far as Oxford. Ethelred tried to cut off its retreat but failed.[64]
During the Lenten weeks the vikings refitted their ships, and on April 9, 1010, they set sail for East Anglia. Ulfketel was still in control of that region and had made preparations to meet the invader. On May 5, the Danes met the native levies at Ringmere in the southern part of Norfolk. The fight was sharp, with final victory for the sea-kings. The English sources attribute the outcome to the treasonable behaviour of Thurkil Mareshead, who was evidently a Dane in Ulfketel's service. The Norse scalds ascribe the result to the valour of Olaf the Stout, who here won the "sword-moot" for the seventh time.[65]
During the remaining months of the year and all through the following summer, the vikings rode almost unresisted through Southern England, plundering everywhere. Finally the King and the "wise men" began to negotiate for peace on the usual basis. But so often had Danegelds been levied that it was becoming difficult to collect the money and the payment was not so prompt as the vikings desired. In their anger they laid siege to Canterbury, and, after a close investment of twenty days, by the assistance of an English priest were enabled to seize the city. Many important citizens were held for ransom, among them the Archbishop Alphege, who remained a prisoner for nearly six months. His confinement cannot have been severe; the Prelate was interested in the spiritual welfare of the Scandinavian pirates, and seems to have begun a mission among his keepers. But he forbade the payment of a ransom, and after a drunken orgy the exasperated Danes proceeded to pelt him to death with the bones of their feast. Thrym, a Dane whom he had confirmed the day before, gave him the mercy stroke.[66]
During the closing days of the archbishop's life, an assembly of the magnates in London had succeeded in raising the tribute agreed upon, 48,000 pounds. Not merely were the invaders bought off—they were induced to enter Ethelred's service as mercenaries; there must have been reasons why it would be inadvisable to return to Jomburg. The English King now had an army of some four thousand or perhaps five thousand men, a splendid force of professional warriors led by the renowned viking Thurkil the Tall. According to William of Malmesbury, they were quartered in East Anglia,[67] which seems plausible, as Wessex must have been thoroughly pillaged by 1012.
When the year 1013 opened, there were reasons to hope that the miseries of England were past. For a whole generation the sea-kings had infested the Channel and the Irish Sea, scourging the shores of Southern Britain almost every year. Large sums of money had been paid out in the form of Danegeld, 137,000 pounds silver, but to little purpose: the enemy returned each year as voracious as ever. Now, however, the pirate had undertaken to defend the land. The presence of Danish mercenaries was doubtless an inconvenience, but this would be temporary only. It was to be expected that, as in the days of Alfred, the enemy would settle down as an occupant of the soil, and in time become a subject instead of a mercenary soldier.
But just at this moment, an invasion of a far more serious nature was being prepared in Denmark. In the councils of Roeskild Sweyn Forkbeard was asking his henchmen what they thought of renewing the attack on England. The question suggested the answer: to the King's delight favourable replies came from all. It is said that Sweyn consulted his son Canute with the rest; and the eager youth strongly urged the undertaking.[68] This is the earliest act on Canute's part that any historian has recorded. In 1012, he was perhaps seventeen years old; he had reached the age when a Scandinavian prince should have entered upon an active career. His great rival of years to come, Olaf the Stout, who can have been only two years older than Canute, had already sailed the dragon for six or seven years. It is likely that the young Dane had also experienced the thrills of viking life, but on this matter the sagas are silent. But it is easy to see why Canute should favour the proposed venture: as a younger son he could not hope for the Danish crown. The conquest of England might mean not only fame and plundered wealth, but perhaps a realm to govern as well.
The considerations that moved the King to renew the attempts at conquest were no doubt various; but the deciding factor was evidently the defection of Thurkil and the Jomvikings. An ecclesiastic who later wrote a eulogy on Queen Emma and her family discusses the situation in this wise:
Thurkil, they said, the chief of your forces, O King, departed with your permission that he might take revenge for a brother who had been slain there, and led with him a large part of your host. Now that he rejoices in victory and in the possession of the southern part of the country, he prefers to remain there as an exile and a friend of the English whom he has conquered by your hand, to returning with the host in submission to you and ascribing the victory to yourself. And now we are defrauded of our companions and of forty ships which he sailed to England laden with the best warriors of Denmark.[69]
So the advice was to seize, the English kingdom as well as the Danish deserter. No great difficulty was anticipated, as Thurkil's men would probably soon desert to the old standards.
The customs of the Northmen demanded that an undertaking of this order should first be approved by the public assembly, and the Encomiast tells us that Sweyn at once proceeded to summon the freemen. Couriers were sent in every direction, and at the proper time the men appeared, each with his weapons as the law required. When the heralds announced the nature of the proposed undertaking—not a mere raid with plunder in view but the conquest of an important nation—the host gave immediate approval.
In many respects the time was exceedingly favourable for the contemplated venture. A large part of England was disposed to be friendly; the remainder was weak from continued pillage. Denmark was strong and aggressive, eager to follow the leadership of her warlike king. Sweyn's older son, Harold, had now reached manhood, and could with comparative safety be left in control of the kingdom. Denmark's neighbours in the North were friendly: Sweyn's vassal and son-in-law controlled the larger part of Norway; his stepson, Olaf, ruled in Sweden. Nor was anything to be feared from the old enemies to the south. The restless vikings of Jom were in England. The lord of Poland was engaged in a life-and-death struggle with the Empire. The Saxon dynasty, which had naturally had Northern interests, no longer dominated Germany; a Bavarian, Henry II., now sat on the throne of the Ottos. In the very year of Sweyn's invasion of England, the German King journeyed to Italy to settle one of the numberless disputes that the Roman see was involved in during the tenth and eleventh centuries. He remained in Italy till the next year (1014), when the victorious Pope rewarded him with the imperial crown.
Something in the form of a regency was provided for the Danish realm during Sweyn's absence. Harold seems to have received royal authority without the royal title. Associated with him were a few trusted magnates who were to give "sage advice," but also, it seems, to watch over the interests of the absent monarch.[70] A part of the host was left in Denmark; but the greater part of the available forces evidently accompanied the King to England.
About midsummer (1013), the fleet was ready to sail. The Encomiast, who had evidently seen Danish ships, gives a glowing description of the armament, which apart from rhetorical exaggeration probably gives a fairly accurate picture of an eleventh-century viking fleet of the more pretentious type. He notes particularly the ornamentation along the sides of the ships, bright and varied in colours; the vanes at the tops of the masts in the forms of birds or of dragons with fiery nostrils; and the figureheads at the prows: carved figures of men, red with gold or white with silver, or of bulls with necks erect, or of dolphins, centaurs, or other beasts. The royal ship was, of course, splendid above all the rest.[71]
The customary route of the Danish vikings followed the Frisian coast to the south-eastern part of England, the shires of Kent and Sussex. Ordinarily, the fleets would continue the journey down the Channel, plundering the shore lands and sending out larger parties to harry the interior. Sweyn had developed a different plan: Wessex was to be attacked from the old Danelaw. Following the ancient route, his ships appeared at Sandwich on the Kentish coast early in August. Sandwich was at this time a place of considerable importance, being the chief port in Southern England.[72] Here Sweyn and Canute remained for a few days, but soon the fleet turned swiftly northwards up the eastern coast to the Humber. Sweyn entered and sailed up this river till he came to the mouth of the Trent, which stream he ascended as far as Gainsborough. Here his men disembarked and preparations were made for the war.
Sweyn had evidently counted on a friendly reception in the Scandinavian settlements of the Danelaw, and he was not disappointed. Recruits appeared and his forces increased materially. Uhtred, the earl of Northumbria, who was probably of Norse ancestry, soon found it to his advantage to do homage to the invader. Sweyn's lordship was also accepted by "the folk of Lindsey, and afterwards by the folk in the Five Boroughs, and very soon by all the host north of Watling Street, and hostages were given by every shire."[73] In addition to hostages, Sweyn demanded horses and provisions for the host.
The summer was probably past before Sweyn was ready to proceed against Ethelred. But finally, some time in September or a little later, having concluded all the necessary preliminaries, he gave the ships and the hostages into the keeping of his son Canute, and led his mounted army southward across the Midlands with Winchester, the residence city of the English kings, as the objective point. So long as he was still within the Danelaw, Sweyn permitted no pillaging; but "as soon as he had crossed Watling Street, he worked as great evil as a hostile force was able." The Thames was crossed at Oxford, which city promptly submitted and gave hostages. Winchester, too, seems to have yielded without a struggle. From the capital Sweyn proceeded eastward to London, where he met the first effective resistance.