Canute the Great, 995 (circa)-1035, and the Rise of Danish Imperialism during the Viking Age. Laurence Marcellus Larson
in Normandy. Duke Richard gave him an honourable reception; but as he was having serious trouble with another brother-in-law, Count Odo of Chartres, he was probably unable to give much material assistance to the fugitive from England.
Ethelred's flight must have left Thurkil and the Jomvikings in a somewhat embarrassing position. They had undertaken to serve the King and defend his country; but now Ethelred had deserted the kingdom, and his subjects had accepted the rule of the invader. In January, however, the sea is an unpleasant highway, so there was nothing for the tall chief to do but to remain faithful and insist on the terms of the contract. While Sweyn was calling for silver and supplies to be brought to Gainsborough, Thurkil seems to have been issuing similar demands from Greenwich. No doubt his men were also able to eke out their winter supplies by occasional plundering: "they harried the land as often as they wished."[77]
Then suddenly an event occurred that created an entirely new situation. On February 3, 1014, scarcely a month after Ethelred's departure from Wight, the Danish conqueror died. As to his manner of death, the Chronicle has nothing to say; but later historians appear to be better informed. The Encomiast, who was indeed Sweyn's contemporary, gives an account of a very edifying death: when Sweyn felt that the end of all things was approaching, he called Canute to his side and impressed upon him the necessity of following and supporting the Christian faith.[78] The Anglo-Norman historians have an even more wonderful story to relate: in the midst of a throng of his henchmen and courtiers, the mighty viking fell, pierced by the dart of Saint Edmund. Sweyn alone saw the saint; he screamed for help; at the close of the day he expired. It seems that a dispute was on at the time over a contribution that King Sweyn had levied on the monks who guarded Saint Edmund's shrine.[79] The suddenness of the King's death was therefore easily explained: the offended saint slew him.
If it is difficult to credit the legend that traces the King's death to an act of impiety, it is also hard to believe that he died in the odour of sanctity. Sweyn was a Christian, but his religion was of the passive type. He is said to have built a few churches, and he also appears to have promoted missionary efforts to some extent[80]; but the Church evidently regarded him as rather lukewarm in his religious professions. The see of Hamburg-Bremen, which was charged with the conversion of the Northern peoples, did not find him an active friend; though in this case his hostility may have been due to his dislike for all things that were called German.
Sweyn's virtues were of the viking type: he was a lover of action, of conquest, and of the sea. At times he was fierce, cruel, and vindictive; but these passions were tempered by cunning, shrewdness, and a love for diplomatic methods that were not common among the sea-kings. He seems to have formed alliances readily, and appears even to have attracted his opponents. His career, too, was that of a viking. Twice he was taken by the Jomvikings, but his faithful subjects promptly ransomed him. Once the King of Sweden, Eric the Victorious, conquered his kingdom and sent him into temporary exile. Twice as a king he led incursions into England in which he gained only the sea-king's reward of plunder and tribute. But in time fortune veered about; his third expedition to Britain was eminently successful, and when Sweyn died, he was king not only of Denmark but also of England, and overlord of the larger part of Norway besides.
As to his personality, we have only the slight information implied in his nickname. Forkbeard means the divided beard. But the evident popularity that he enjoyed both in the host and in the nation would indicate that he possessed an attractive personality. That Sweyn appreciated the loyalty of his men is evident from the runic monument that he raised to his housecarle Skartha who had shared in the English warfare.[81]
By his first-wife, the Polish princess who was renamed Gunhild, Sweyn had several children, of whom history makes prominent mention of three: Harold, Canute, and Gytha, who was married to Earl Eric of Norway. In the Hyde Register there is mention of another daughter, Santslaue, "sister of King Canute,"[82] who may have been born of the same marriage, as her name is evidently Slavic. His second wife, Sigrid the Haughty, seems to have had daughters only. Of these only one appears prominently in the annals of the time—Estrid, the wife of Ulf the Earl, the mother of a long line of Danish kings.
At the time of his death Sweyn is thought to have been about fifty-four years old and had ruled Denmark nearly thirty years. His body was taken to York for interment, but it did not remain there long. The English did not cherish Sweyn's memory, and seemed determined to find and dishonour his remains. Certain women—English women, it appears—rescued the corpse and brought it to Roeskild some time during the following summer (1014)[83], where it was interred in the Church of the Holy Trinity, which also sheltered the bones of Sweyn's father whom he had wronged so bitterly thirty years before.
FOOTNOTES:
[52] Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1000.
[53] William of Jumièges, Historia Normannorum, v., c. 4.
[54] Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1002.
[55] Richard of Cirencester, Speculum Historiale, ii., 147–148.
[56] As there seems to have been a Danish settlement in the Severn Valley, it seems probable that Pallig's home was in that region.
[57] The story of Palna Toki is told in various sagas, particularly Jómsvikingasaga. Of his exploits in archery Saxo has an account in his tenth book. Having once boasted that no apple was too small for his arrow to find, he was surprised by an order from the King that he should shoot an arrow from his son's head. The archer was reluctant to display his skill in this fashion, but the shot was successful. It is also told that Palna Toki had provided himself with additional arrows which he had intended for the King in case the first had stricken the child. Saxo wrote a century before the time of the supposed Tell episode.
[58] William of Jumièges, Historia Normannorum, v., c. 7.
[59] Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1003.
[60] Ibid., 1004–1005.
[61] Liebermann, Gesetze der Angelsachsen, i., 246–256.
[62] Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, 1009.
[63] Encomium Emmæ, i., c. 2. It is barely possible that the brother was Gyrth, whose name appears on a runic monument (Wimmer, De danske Runemindesmærker, I., ii., 138 ff.). But in the absence of information to the contrary we shall have to assume that Gyrth was buried where his monument was placed and was therefore not the brother who fell in England.