will perceive that there is no mention of Gorm or Godric. But here we must repeat what we have already frequently observed, that both might have reigned in Jutland, while Sigurd Ring and Ragnar Lodbrok and Sigurd Snogoje reigned in Zealand. And even if this were not so, we are by no means sure that the Icelandic authorities, which alone have weight with the modern historians of Denmark, ought to be followed to the utter exclusion of Saxo, who lived as near to the period as any of the former, and whose means of information must have been of easier access. Strange that in the eighth century—nay, even in the ninth—we should find so much darkness, so much contradiction in the history of a country which was now beginning to occupy the attention of the Frank historians! Yet such is the fact. “C’est un vrai labyrinthe,” says Mallet, “où l’on se perd dans les contradictions et les ténèbres.” The conjecture, however, which we have made, viz., that Godric or Godfrey might reign in one part of Denmark, while Sigurd Ring and Ragnar reigned in another, acquires some confirmation from the fact that the former, as rex Danorum in 803, is expressly mentioned by Ado of Vienne. And in the Saga of Olaf Trygveson, king of Norway, we read that this very Godfrey reigned in Jutland during the time of Charlemagne. Was he, the Jutish king, or Sigurd and Ragnar, who appear to have reigned in Zealand, the true sovereign of the Danes? Was one subject to the other, or were both independent? This question no man can answer. The passage, however, of Ado, confirmed as it is by that in Olaf Trygveson’s Saga, explains the confusion which we find at every step in the Danish history prior to the latter part of the tenth century. We may add that, according to the same authority, Godfrey being slain by his own subjects on his return from a successful expedition to Frisia, Hemming, his brother or nephew, succeeded. Now these facts are confirmed by Saxo; and where both Icelandic and Danish authorities concur, and are confirmed by the Frank historians (and Hemming’s accession, no less than Godfrey’s death, is mentioned by several), we see no ground for scepticism. These princes, then, must be admitted; and for the reasons already given they may be admitted, without excluding Sigurd Ring, or Ragnar Lodbrog, or Sigurd Snogoje.[91]
The age of Ragnar ought to be an historic age; but his reign is so pervaded by fable, that we can make nothing of it. Many have been the attempts to reconcile his chronology, at least as found in northern writers, with that of the Frankish and Anglo-Saxon historians; but neither it, nor the actions recorded of him by both, can possibly be reconciled. Critics, therefore, have been driven to the inference that there were two Ragnars—one of the eighth, the other of the ninth century; and, probably, this conjecture is the true one. In the latter century, indeed, we read of a Jutland chief named Ragenfred, or Regnier, who, being exiled by the reigning king of Denmark, became a pirate, and committed dreadful depredations on the coasts of Britain and Ireland. Very probably the actions of both—and both, no doubt, were extraordinary men—have been confounded together, and enabled Saxo to incorporate, into one relation, the romantic incidents which tradition had preserved of both. As we have indulged so largely in the romantic, we will not, on this occasion, translate that venerable authority. And it is scarcely necessary to allude to this hero’s death, which, as everybody knows, happened in Northumberland. Defeated by Ella, the Saxon king of the province, and thrown into a dungeon full of serpents, he expired, insensible of his torments. It is said, indeed, that he composed a lay enumerating his former exploits, and his conviction that his sons would revenge his death; but the story, and the ode itself, are so improbable, that they must be consigned to the domain of poetic invention, and no longer be allowed to grow in that of history. Whether there be much truth in the subsequent part of this story, viz., that the sons of Ragnar did hasten to revenge him, that they disembarked on the Northumbrian coast, defeated the Anglo-Saxons near York, and transformed the province from a Saxon into a Danish state, we are unable to decide with anything approaching to confidence. The probability, however, is, that, notwithstanding the silence of the Saxon Chronicle on this subject, there is some foundation for the account. So constantly do the ancient writers—writers, too, at no great distance from the period—speak of Danish viceroys, often with the regal title, being sent to Northumbria, that we are unwilling to consider the narrative as the pure invention of the Scalds.[92]
|794 to 935.|
On the death of Ragnar, the sceptre of at least a portion of Denmark—perhaps Scania and the isles—passed into the hands of Sigurd II. (or Siward[93]), surnamed Snogoje, or Snake-eyed. At the same time, Jutland was possessed by other kings, whether as tributaries, or independent, there would be rashness in deciding. We read, indeed, that Hemming was contemporary with him; that Harald succeeded Hemming in some part of Jutland; that this latter prince was exiled through an insurrection of the sons of Godric, or Godfrey, who fought for the inheritance of their father; that this Harald became a Christian, and sought the protection of Louis le Debonnaire; that the Carlovingian monarch assisted him to return triumphant; but that, about the year 828, being again deprived of his throne, he passed his days in religious contemplation. His name will always be memorable for his solemn baptism at Ingleheim, in presence of the emperor’s court; and for his efforts to introduce Christianity into Jutland. Under his auspices St. Anscar, the apostle of Scandinavia, penetrated into Jutland; and though the labours of this pious missionary, owing to the troubles of the country, were attended with little success, the merit of this first Christian prince of Denmark is not the less. It was, indeed, his attachment to the new religion which, more than any other cause, led to his failure. Sigurd, the other Danish king, had no wish to imitate the example of Harald; but he is celebrated as a peaceful, good, and enlightened ruler. For this reason, his reign affords no materials for history. On his death, in 803, he was succeeded, say the Icelandic chroniclers, by Harda Canute, his son; but, according to Saxo, by his son Eric I. How shall we decide? We can only conjecture that both princes reigned, at the same time, over different parts of the monarchy; but that Eric died early, while Harda Canute survived to the middle of the ninth century. By the same hypothesis only can we reconcile the names of the kings who succeeded Eric and Harda Canute. By referring to the list at the head of this chapter[94], the reader will perceive that it allows of only two sovereigns between Eric I. and Harold Blaatand—king Eric II. and Gorm the Old; while Saxo admits five, viz., Canute the Little, Frode VI., Gorm Anglicus (so called from his birthplace), Harold V., and Gorm the Old; thus rejecting Eric II., and adding four others. To us, the mode of reconciliation appears simple. While Eric II. and Gorm ruled over the islands and Scania, the other princes mentioned by Saxo reigned in another part of Jutland. This hypothesis is confirmed by one important fact—that the life of Gorm was unusually protracted; and that, by conquest or negotiation, by open force or cunning, he obtained the government of all the states now comprising the Danish monarchy. Seeing the conduct of the Jutland princes, their civil wars, their consequent weakness and unpopularity, he fell on them, and put an end to their stormy independence. Over the reign of Gorm, indeed, there hangs much obscurity, which the researches of northern critics have by no means dissipated. That he performed many great actions; that, in a few years, he conquered Jutland; that he humbled the Saxons, and made some temporary accessions to his states on the side of Mecklenburg and Pomerania; appear to be undoubted facts. The Frankish writers, however, affirm that he was defeated by Henry the Fowler, his newly incorporated monarchy conquered as far as Sleswic, a margrave established in that place, and he himself compelled to admit the missionaries of Christianity into his states. Against this statement, which principally depends on the authority of Adam of Bremen, the native historians of Denmark make a stand; they will not allow that their country, or any portion of it, was ever thus subdued. But what counter authority can they oppose to this? Where are their native writers, if not contemporary, at least as near to the period as Adam, to contradict this relation? They have no such writers; they have nothing in the shape of authority before the close of the twelfth century: for the materials of their history, they must recur to the very writers whom they would thus undervalue. The statement of Adam, a canon of Bremen, who during so long a period collected materials for his ecclesiastical history, is too minute, too reasonable, too well confirmed by allusions, however incidental, in other writers (especially in the biographers of a few saints), to leave room for scepticism on the subject. Nor does this detract, in the least degree, from the merit of Gorm. By incorporating into one compact monarchy insignificant states, which had so often refused even a nominal obedience to the kings of Ledra, or Jutland, and by destroying
