Reflections 2012
Series 20
October 9
Norse Expansion III b: Iceland

 

Norse Expansion III   Our third part of Norse Expansion is the westward expansion from Norway. While III a got us to Shetland/Orkney and the Faroes, III b gets us now to Iceland, and III c later on will get us to Greenland and Vinland.

 
 

Islendingabók I found it quite amazing to see the wealth of documentation and information about the discovery and settlement of Iceland, of which there are two key sources. One is the Íslendingabók (“Icelander Book”), a historical work by an Icelandic priest, Ari Þorgilsson, working in the 12C. It’s a very concise work, trying to be as accurate as possible. While it necessarily has to rely on oral history, he tries to establish the reliability of his sources. He avoids Christian bias to what would be considered paganism, and avoids supernatural material, which Icelandic Sagas sometimes include. He mentions that any errors found must be corrected for posterity. For these reasons, as well as its early date, it’s considered highly reliable.

 
 

Landnámabók The other key source is the Landnámabók (“Settlements Book”), often shortened to just Landnáma, which tells of the landnám / settlement of Iceland by the Norse in the 9C-10C. It starts telling about discovery and who the 435 Landnámsmenn were who were the very first settlers, but then goes on to describe later settlers up into the 12C, going clockwise around the country starting with the western quarter and ending in the southern quarter. Landnáma tells of events and family history, describing about 3,500 people and about 1,500 settlements, most of which were in the north and, as today, in the southwest. Although some scholars have suggested there was a single author, others believe the book was established during meetings of the various things (and we all know now what things are.) This is a vellum manuscript page from a copy of Landnáma. (Landnáma reminds one of England’s Domesday Book, which was compiled for a different reason, taxation, but still serves as a picture of towns and inhabitants of the day, although of course, it doesn’t go back to the very beginning of the country.)

 
 

Gaelic Monks As one pictures movement westward from Scandinavia to these northern Atlantic Isles, one can also picture movement northwestward from the British Isles, Ireland and Scotland being closest, and Irish monks were known for their proselytizing. It is a fact that Irish monks did visit the Faroes in 500 before the Norse settled them around 650, and the Íslendingabók claims Norse settlers encountered Gaelic monks (Irish-Scottish) when they got to Iceland. But there is no archeological evidence to back that up. On the other hand, residents of the British Isles had to be aware of a large land mass to the northwest both from the flight patterns of migrating birds and also from the cloud formations over Vatnajökull, which can be seen from great distances. And Iceland isn’t that far from the Faroes, anyway.

 
 

Naddoddr & Garðar Svavarsson Landnáma claims the first Norsemen to set foot in Iceland was a Viking named Naddoddr, who reached the east coast. Although his stay was very short, he did give Iceland its first name, Snæland / Snowland. The next arrival was a Swede named Garðar Svavarsson, who was the first to spend some time. His arrival in c 860 or 870 was an accident, as often is the case in these situations (see Dirk Hartog’s 1616 accidental arrival on Australia’s west coast in 2010/10). A storm moved his ship far to the north of his intended route and landed him on the east coast of Iceland. He then sailed to the west, then north, and built a house in Húsavik on the north coast, where he stayed just one winter, making Húsavik the first place in Iceland to have ever had a Norse settlement, which is reflected in the town’s name, which means Bay of Houses. On leaving back to Scandinavia the following summer, he completed a full circle of Iceland, establishing that it was indeed an island. Although he never returned, he gave Iceland its next name, Garðarshólmur / Garðar’s Island (the same “holm” as in Stockholm).

 
 

Flóki Vilgerðarson The exact date of the visit of the first person to DELIBERATELY go to Iceland is not clear, but he was Flóki Vilgerðarson. He had heard good things about Garðarsholmur and he took his family and livestock with him to settle there. His route apparently preceded that of mine on the Deutschland by quite a bit of time, but Landnáma does say it was the same, since he traveled from Norway via Shetland and then the Faroes. But from there on in, his method of navigation was unusual, so don’t try this at home. Leaving the Faroes, he took three ravens to guide him, and set them free. The first raven flew back on board. The second flew higher, but also returned on board. But the third raven flew in front of the ship, and they followed it to Iceland. Because of this, to this day, he bears the nickname Hrafna-Flóki (“Raven-Flóki”), and is usually remembered by that name. (Drop the H and inspect the word carefully to see how close it really is to the English word.)

 
 

He stopped in the middle of the shore of the bay where Reykjavik is located today, at the south end. One of his men, Faxi, commented on the high quality of the land they found there, and to this day, the bay that Reykjavik is on is called Faxaflói. However, they continued further north to the next huge bay, Breiðafjörður, also shown on this map. These two bays are the largest of Iceland, and define its west coast, which is very distinctive from the relative roundness of the rest of the island. The bays are further defined by three distinctive peninsulas, two of them being referred to as a nes / nose. The southern one, extending from Reykjavik to Keflavik Airport, is the Reykjanes. The middle one, between the two bays, is the Snæfellsnes, and has at its tip the magnificent Snæfellsjökull, which we’ll discuss later with Reykjavik. The huge multipointed northern peninsula is the Vestfirðir or Westfjords (Map by TUBS). It was on the southern side of Vestfirðir that Raven-Flóki landed, at the Vatnsfjörður.

 
 

But the winter there was harsh, and all of Flóki’s cattle died. In his resentment, he saw some drift ice in the fjord and on that basis, named the entire island Ísland (Iceland), and that’s the name it bears to this day. Still, he stayed one more year, this time Borgarfjörður on the Faxaflói further south, then went back to Norway the following summer. Much later, he came back and settled on the north coast in what is today known as Flókadalur, named after him. You could translate it as Flóki Valley or Flókivale, but Flókidale is closest to the original Germanic form.

 
 

This is a map of the first Scandinavians to reach Iceland in the 9C, as described above (Map by Max Naylor).

 
 

Ingólfur Arnarson Those were the explorers, but the first permanent Norse settler of Iceland is recognized by the Landnáma and the Islendigabók as Ingólfur Arnarson, who built his homestead in Reykjavik in 874, and named the town as well. It is believed that Ingólfur was responsible for settling a large part of southwestern Iceland, although details are not known. His son, Þorsteinn Ingólfsson, was a major chieftain and was said to have founded the first Thing, a forerunner of the Alþingi.

 
 

Iceland’s Age of Settlement (Landnámsöld) is considered to have started then in 874 with Ingólfur’s settlement. Many followed, and within under 60 years, all the usable land was taken. It’s unknown how many migrants came during the Age of Settlement, but scholars estimate that it was between 15,000 and 20,000 people. Iceland having not been settled by anyone else before, land could be claimed without fighting wars with previous inhabitants. The 56 years of the Age of Settlement are considered to have ended in 930 with the establishment of the Alþingi at Þingvellir (“Assembly Fields” or “Parliament Plains”), at which time almost all usable land in Iceland had been claimed by settlers.

 
 

Early on, local Things were formed, but with growth, a general Thing was needed. One reason was that the descendants of Ingólfur Arnarson dominated the southwest as the most powerful family in the country, and others felt a general Thing was needed to limit their power. The region that was decided upon was based on accessibility from the most populated area, the southwest, and elsewhere. (For that reason, it’s easily visited from Reykjavik today.) The longest traveling time was 17 days from the far eastern part of the country. In the area chosen, a certain landowner was found guilty of murder, and his land was confiscated and declared public property for the Alþingi, which included the meeting area and space to build temporary dwellings, since it met for only two weeks during the summer. Christianity was adopted in Iceland in Þingvellir in 1000. It was also a social center. During the meeting times, thousands of people would flock there and build temporary dwellings, from which people would enjoy entertainers, check out merchants’ goods, exchange news, look for jobs, beg.

 
 

The meetings were both legislative and judicial until 1271, but the period of the Icelandic Commonwealth ended in 1262 when a pledge of fealty was taken to the Norwegian king, who took over legislative powers, leaving only judicial powers to the Alþingi. Norway ruled the country from 1262. After 1387, Denmark predominated until Icelandic independence in 1918. The Icelandic Republic was declared in 1944. Of course, it was declared at Þingvellir.

 
 

[Ingólfur’s name leads to an aside about male names, ones that are based on strong animals. The lion is most notable, and we have both the Latin form, Leo, and the Greek form, Leon. Leonard, which can use Leo as a nickname, is actually from Old High German Leonhard, but the first syllable is “lion” and the second is “hardy” or “brave”.

 
 

And then there’s the wolf. The word appears with a W in the West Germanic languages, and is exactly the same in English, Dutch, and German, but lacks a W and starts with the vowel in the North Germanic languages. Swedish, Norwegian, and Danish all have “ulv”, and Icelandic has “úlfur”. The Scandinavian name Ulf (also used in German), now becomes more obvious.

 
 

And now we come to Ingólfur’s name. “Ingolf” means “noble wolf”. It is exactly the same as the name Adolf (now out of favor for obvious reasons). Adolf is a compound derived from Old High German Athalwolf; “athal” is related to modern “Adel” (nobility) or “edel” (noble), so Adolf is “noble wolf”. Adolf appears in Old English as Æthelwulf, with the same meaning. One more: “hroð” or “rod” is “fame”, so “famous wolf” is the meaning of Rudolf (or Rodolphe, Rodolfo).]

 
 

Icelandic Sagas Sagas are stories of Germanic history, particularly Scandinavian history, and most famously, Icelandic history. As a matter of fact, Icelandic Sagas form a sub-category of their own, specific to such things as voyages, migrations, battles, and family feuds, pertinent to Iceland. The word “saga”, Icelandic plural “sögur”, is directly related to the English verb “say” and the German verb “sagen” (same meaning), but is more obvious in the German noun “Sage” (legend). However, since sagas are primarily historical, German also uses the noun Saga alongside Sage. The Icelandic word means something like “something said”. Given the fact that they were at first at least partly of an oral tradition, and for the most part only written down in the 1200’s, I would go so far as say that the word implies “this is what ‘they’ say” about history. Because of the oral aspect, it is argued how much is fact and how much is fiction, given that it’s human nature to embellish a story, to dramatize it, to make it a “better story”. Nevertheless, they are the best guide available for much of the period and region, including the Norse discovery of America.

 
 

Most Icelandic sagas take place in the period 930-1030, which is called in Icelandic history the söguöld, the Age of the Sagas, which is several centuries before they were actually written down for posterity. They were written, not surprisingly given their age, in Old Norse, by unknown authors, and are the best-known specimens of Icelandic literature. The history they focus on tends to be genealogical and family history, dealing principally with the societies of the second and third generations of settlers.

 
 

Vinland Sagas In the Wikipedia entry on sagas, I counted a list of 43 named sagas. It should not surprise that the sagas that will be of most interest to us are known as the Vinland Sagas--but there’s no such listing. Vinland Sagas is the umbrella title of the two sagas that cover the topic. One of them is the Grœnlendinga Saga (Saga of the Greenlanders; œ was used for ø or ö), the other is Eiríks Saga Rauða (Saga of Eric the Red). Both titles seem to indicate great potential, and indeed, represent the most complete information about the Norse in North America. This is true even though they were finally recorded some two centuries after the fact, and even though the two sagas sometimes contradict each other. The information they provide was substantiated by the discovery of the settlement at L’Anse aux Meadows in Newfoundland.

 
 

Eirik Rauða We’ve already discussed that the father of Eirik Rauða (Erik the Red), Þorvald Asvaldsson, was exiled from Norway for the crime of manslaughter and sailed with his family for Iceland. They went to the above-mentioned Vestfirðir (Westfjords) peninsula at the northern end of the east coast and settled in Hornstrandir (Map by Bjarki Sigursveinsson) at its upper end.

 
 

Eirik later married Þjóðhildr (Thjodhild) and moved to Haukadal (“Hawksdale”) where her family is said to have been based, probably somewhere on the Breiðafjörður, the bay south of Westfjords. He established a farm in Haukadal, where they settled. Then around 982, two different disputes occurred, in which Eirik killed several people. Like father, like son.

 
 

The first confrontation happened in Haukadal, when some of Eirik’s men started a landslide on a neighboring farm. The owner’s friend killed Eirik’s men, and then Eirik killed the friend and another man, whereupon the friend’s kinsmen demanded Eirik’s banishment from Haukadal.

 
 

Eirik then moved to the island of Öxney, at the southern end of the bay of Breiðafjördur, just north of the Snæfellsnes peninsula, the one that separates the two large bays. While he was building his new house, he asked a man to keep some important family heirlooms of his, which his father had brought over from Norway. But when he went back to get them, he was not able to, so he apparently went to where he knew the man kept his own similar heirlooms and took those, although the sagas are unclear on this point. The man ran after him, and in the fight that followed, Eirik killed both the man’s sons and several other men.

 
 

Each party later gathered a considerable body of supporters, and the dispute was resolved at nothing less than the Thing, with the result that Eirik was banished from Iceland for three years, but not permanently, as his father had been banished from Norway for similar killings. As the father’s banishment had moved the family from Norway west to Iceland, Eirik’s banishment moved his family from Iceland west to Greenland, and he sailed from near the Snæfellsjökull, the glacier near the tip of the Snæfellsnes peninsula.

 
 

Another instance of popular history being inaccurate is that popular history credits Eirik as the discoverer of Greenland, as though he left Iceland in exile not knowing where he was going. In fact, the sagas explain that earlier Norsemen had discovered it (think of the discoverers of Iceland as well, before settlers came) and some even tried to settle Greenland a century before Eirik. But this exile proved only to be Eirik’s first trip to Greenland. After his three years of exile were up, having established himself at his estate in Brattahlið in the Eastern Settlement in Greenland, and apparently having improved his ways, becoming a respected leader, he returned to Iceland to attract more settlers, including the clever use of a positive name for the “new” island. So while not the discoverer of Greenland, he did establish the first permanent settlement--permanent for almost five centuries until it disappeared--but then that’s another story, isn’t it?

 
 

Leifr Eiríksson Eirik and Þjóðhildr had four children, the most famous of which is Leifr Eiríkson (Leif Ericson). Leif was born somewhere between 970 and 980, and the sagas don’t account for his birthplace, but it is felt he is likely to have been born in Iceland where his parents met (the Icelanders consider him as THEIR hero), and probably somewhere around the bay, Breiðafjörður, and possibly even on the farm at Haukadal. He was raised on the family estate, Brattahlið, in the Eastern Settlement of Greenland. It is unclear to me if brothers Thorstein and Thorvald and sister Freydis were born in Iceland or Greenland, but, except for occasional visits back to Iceland, all family activity was based at Brattahlið in Greenland from then on. This will include Leif and his siblings reaching Vinland, although Eirik himself never made it there.

 
 

Columbus in Iceland? In this Atlantic Isles trip, we’ve been balancing the crossing of the North Atlantic further to the south as opposed to further to the north, and have found connections between the two areas--and there will be more. But one of the most unique historical ones is speculation if whether Christopher Columbus, from the south, ever made it to Iceland, in the north, to hear stories of Leif Ericson and the reaching of land on the western side of the Atlantic.

 
 

Scholars are not sure that it ever happened, because there is only one bit if evidence from those years that mentions it--although it’s a good one. His son, Ferdinand Columbus, wrote a biography of his father based on information given him by his father. In it is included such a voyage in February 1477, when Columbus was 25, and a full fifteen years before the famous 1492 voyage. The detail was accurate that mentioned that the winter that year was mild, making a northern voyage more plausible, but on the other hand, Iceland’s latitude was badly misstated, but of course, that could simply reflect the limited knowledge of the period.

 
 

It was in 1484, just seven years after he said he’d been to Iceland, that he made his first proposal for financial support to sail to what he thought was China by crossing the Atlantic. Historians continue to try to find further proof of such a trip to Iceland, and to what extent Icelandic sailors telling of Leif Ericson’s trip to Vinland may have inspired him to cross the Atlantic to “China” himself.

 
 

But even if he didn’t actually go to Iceland, knowledge of the voyages to Vinland spread around medieval Europe, and it’s been suggested that sailors in 15C European seaports would have had knowledge of Vinland events, and this knowledge might have had an influence on Columbus whether or not he himself had made it to Iceland.

 
 

A former board member of Iceland’s historical society, who does believe the Iceland trip happened, feels the knowledge would have been crucial to give Columbus confidence to keep on going, and, when the crew of the Santa Maria nearly rebelled in fear they were going too far, he was able to calm them to keep sailing west.

 
 
 
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