Chapter 14
Vinland
“Be warned by another’s woe.”
- Njáls Saga
The land he was looking for was tantalizingly close. On a clear day, a man could climb the highest mountain of the Western Settlement and – provided he knew where to look – could see the cloud banks in the grey sub-Arctic sky that touched the North American continent. The crossing would be much easier for the Vikings than going back to Iceland, and Leif had the advantage of veterans who knew the way.
He decided to sail Bjarni’s route in reverse. The old crew had no trouble retracing their course, and with a few days of easy sailing they cast anchor off the coast of Helluland. Leif and a small group rowed ashore, but after a quick survey realized that the land was unsuitable. There was no grass, and virtually no plants of any kind, just a gradually sloping hill of slate that reached all the way to the glaciers – which they called ice mountains – in the distance.118
Returning to the ships, Leif and his men had a brief discussion and decided to sail south, to see if they could find better land.119 To the southwest they caught sight of the heavily wooded hills and white beaches of Markland, but again decided to keep exploring. Two days later, they spotted an island, and since the weather was good, rowed ashore. The sight of wild, green grass was a welcome change to the frozen coasts they were used to, and in the first rush of excitement of men who had been cooped up on a ship too long, they claimed the dew was the sweetest thing they had ever tasted.
As soon as they had found a safe place to beach their ship, Leif and his men disembarked with their hammocks, and began work setting up a camp. Although it was only the beginning of Autumn, they decided to spend the winter there, and Leif proposed a plan for systematically exploring the land around them. The men were split into two groups of sixteen, with Leif floating between them. Each day one of the groups would go out in a different direction, while the other would stay at camp. The only rules were that the men were not to go so far that they couldn’t return the same day, and they were to stay together at all costs.
The island, probably modern Newfoundland, was overflowing with abundance. Not only was there virtually unlimited timber, but the salmon in the rivers were both larger and in greater numbers than they had ever seen before, and the forests were teaming with game. The winters seemed milder – Leif claimed that there was no frost – and there was enough wild pasture to support farm animals without the need to make hay. Most astonishing of all, the Vikings noticed that winter days had more hours of sunlight here than they did in Iceland or Greenland. This was a rich country, ready to be exploited.
The most exciting discovery, however, came after Leif and his men had settled into a routine. One evening it was discovered that Tyrker, Leif’s foster-father, had gone wandering off from the main group and had lost her way. The distraught Leif immediately gathered a search party of twelve men, but just as they were setting out, Tyrker appeared.
He was obviously in good spirits, and announced that he had made a discovery. He had found some type of wild wheat growing, and had then stumbled across some wine berries. The word he used has traditionally been translated as ‘grapes’, which has led to confusion since grapes don’t grow that far north. The Vikings, however, referred to any berry as a ‘wine berry’. Tyrker had probably come across cranberries or gooseberries. Either way, the Norsemen immediately started fermenting them into a heady wine and got rather drunk toasting themselves and their new find.
From that time on, the focus became gathering supplies to return home. The two groups no longer went exploring, instead, one gathered berries, while the other cut timber and loaded it on the ships. The new country, named Vinland by Leif for its berries, was far superior to Greenland or even Iceland. Not only was it lush, but it was also apparently uninhabited.
When they had gathered as much timber as they could carry, they shoved off, towing their rowboat – now filled to the gunwales with berries – behind them. They had several days of fair wind, and when they were approaching the skerries off Greenland, Leif spotted several figures clinging to the rocks. Sailing closer, he recognized that it was a group of marooned sailors from Iceland who had missed Greenland and crashed into the treacherous rocks. Somehow, he fit the fifteen survivors onboard, and even managed to salvage the remains of their cargo.
Given the relatively small number of colonists on Greenland, the absence of anyone sailing in their direction, and the sheer implausibility of someone stumbling onto their tiny skerry, the men had given themselves up for lost. The appearance of Leif out of the vast ocean, arriving within the rapidly diminishing window of time they could survive, won him the sobriquet ‘Leif the Lucky’ from the grateful sailors, and they spread the story throughout Greenland.
Leif undoubtedly intended to go back and found a colony, but didn’t get the chance. Sometime before, probably during the winter, his father Erik the Red had died. There is some doubt about the cause, but in 1002 some fresh colonists from Iceland had brought the plague with them, and Erik was probably one of the many who died. The colony needed a leader, and Leif was the natural candidate. His duties prevented any new trips west, and he never again set foot on North American shores. The responsibility for further exploration and colonization fell to his siblings.
As a sign that he was passing the torch, Leif gave his ship to his brother Thorvald, and the latter gathered volunteers to start a colony. He was not quite as charismatic as his father or brother, and only managed about a hundred people, but hopes were high as the expedition set off.
At first all went well. Thorvald found Leif’s old camp without difficulty, and spent the winter fishing and gathering timber.120 In the Spring, he equipped a boat and began to explore the western coast, taking careful notes on possible settlement sites. As he investigated one island just off the coast, however, he discovered a wooden hut that looked like it had been used to store grain. It was clearly not Viking workmanship, but there was no other sign of human habitation, so Thorvald and his men returned to their camp. It was a slightly disturbing finding. Someone had obviously discovered this land before them. The only question was if they were still there.
The answer was provided the next summer when Thorvald explored the opposite direction. A sudden squall drove their ship onto the beach, damaging the keel. Not wanting to stay there, they limped along until Thorvald spotted a suitable harbor. The site was pleasant enough to encourage Thorvad to think it would make the perfect site for a colony. As they walked back to the ship, they noticed three mounds on the beach that hadn’t been there before. On closer inspection they turned out to be canoes, each with three strange looking men hiding beneath. A short struggle ensued where eight of them were captured, but one of the strangers managed to escape in a canoe.
None of the prisoners understood Norse, so the Vikings called them Skrælings, ‘screamers’ or ‘screechers’, for the strange noises they made.121 After they had killed the captives, they climbed a nearby hill to look around, and noticed what looked like the huts of a small village in the distance.
While they had been exploring, the Skræling who had escaped returned, this time with ‘a countless fleet of canoes’. The two sides attacked each other, but after the first clash, the Skræling’s fled. The only Viking casualty was Thorvald, who had been struck with an arrow in the armpit. He managed to pull it out, but the wound proved fatal and his men buried him – with some irony – on the same beach that he had wanted to make his home.
Thorvald’s expedition had been reasonably successful, but his loss – he has the dubious distinction of being the first European killed in North America – crippled the survivor’s morale. They spent that winter gathering wood and berries, and as soon as the weather improved, they returned to Greenland to report what had happened.
By this time it was clear that if Lief and his father had been lucky, the rest of the family was decidedly less so. The thought of Thorvald’s body mouldering in some distant land was too much for his siblings to bear, so the youngest brother Thorstein decided to retrieve it. He set out with a crew of twenty-five, but as soon as they were out of sight of land, they got hopelessly lost, drifting for almost a month. When they were finally driven to shore in early winter, they discovered that they were still in Greenland, having only made it as far as the Western Settlement.
The rest of the crew found homes among the other settlers, but Thorstein and his wife wintered on board their ship, a brutal experience that cost Thorstein his life. After his death, there was no one willing to take up the cause.
If salvaging Thorvald’s body had lost its luster, at least Vinland still remained tantalizing. The need for timber, pasture, and resources was a constant concern, and the western land promised a nearby solution. So in the summer of 1009, Leif sanctioned a second major attempt at colonization.
The expedition was led by Leif’s brother-in-law Thorfinn Karlsefni, who had married the dead Thorvald’s widow, Gudrid. There was always a supply of people looking for greener pastures, and Thorfinn seems to have recruited volunteers by highlighting, among other things, the alcohol that could be made with the abundant wine berries.
This turned out to be a popular pitch, as more than two hundred people enlisted to join him, making it necessary to outfit three ships to fit them all. Among the passengers was Leif’s half-sister Freydis, an illegitimate daughter of Erik the Red who had inherited more of his fiery temper and dominant personality than any of his sons. Not wanting to miss the wealth or reputation that could be gained by the trip, she had browbeaten her reluctant husband into joining, and was determined to make him one of the leaders in spite of himself.
Once again, the Vikings found Leif’s old camp, and moved in to exploit the nearby resources. That first winter was a particularly brutal one, killing off most of the livestock that they had brought with them. Morale was not improved by the conspicuous lack of berries. They were able to gather enough to make a small brew, but it was hardly the lavish ‘banquets of wine’ that they had been promised.
Virtually the only bright spot in that harsh winter, at least for Thorfinn, was that his wife Gudrid gave birth to his first child. The boy, named Snorri by his father, was the first European born in North America.122
When spring arrived, the colony began to split up. One group returned to Greenland, while the rest relocated to a different site.123 Thorfinn built a stockade, probably because he was aware of Skrælings in the area, but they seemed peaceful enough. After a while a group showed up wanting to trade, which Thorfinn was happy to do – with the exception of weapons which he forbid any Norseman to sell on pain of death.
The bartering was conducted amicably, but three weeks later a huge number of Skrælings suddenly burst out of the woods and attacked the stockade.124 They quickly overran the walls, but were brought up short by two unusual sights. The first was the Viking’s penned up bull – the lone male survivor of the previous winter – that was now agitated and bellowing fiercely. The Skrælings had never seen such an animal before and were suddenly uncertain. The second sight, was probably equally terrifying. The Vikings had been caught by surprise and were wavering between resisting and fleeing. Out from her sleeping quarters, however, had come Freydis, and she stood, sword in hand and bellowing like a Valkyrie, rallying the Vikings. They formed a makeshift shield wall and charged, scattering the Skrælings.
The colony had been saved, but it was only a matter of time until it was attacked again. Thorfinn tried to avoid this by relocating, but once again the winter was brutal, and the colonists gave up. Even Thorfinn was exhausted, unwilling to stay longer. As soon as the weather cleared enough to sail, they all left.
Freydis’ thoughts on the matter aren’t recorded, but judging from her next actions, she was probably disgusted that her kinsman had given up. Clearly, if there was going to be a new colony set up she would have to do it herself.
Her husband, as usual, was no help. He lacked both the imagination and energy to gather a crew. Fortunately for Freydis, the same summer in which she returned to Greenland, two brothers had arrived with a crew from Norway. She invited them to her home and spent the summer plying them with stories of the easy wealth available to the west.
It took less than a month for the two brothers – Helgi and Finnbogi – to sign on. They agreed to provide a ship, and to make sure that there was an equitable division of whatever they found, all three agreed to a limit of thirty men per vessel.
Relations between them broke down immediately. The brothers arrived at the camp first and installed themselves in Leif’s old hall. When Freydis angrily protested, they pointed out that she had cheated by concealing five extra men on her ship. Insults started flying back and forth until Helgi and Finnbogi took their crew and moved to a different location.
By the time winter set in, relations were so strained that the two camps stopped communicating with each other. Freydis decided to eliminate her rivals in a typical Viking fashion, equal parts ruse and brutality. Early one morning she walked to Finnbogi’s longhouse and offered to make amends with him. She had decided to leave, she said, and was wondering if he would sell her his ship as it was slightly larger than hers. Finnbogi generously agreed, and Freydis returned to her own camp.
When she climbed back into her own bed, her cold feet woke up her husband who wanted to know why she had been outside. She proceeded to tell him that she had gone to make peace with the brothers, but that they had beaten her instead. Egged on by Freydis, the husband angrily gathered all his men and stormed into Helgi and Finnbogi’s camp.
They were taken completely by surprise. Everyone in the house was seized, bound, and then dragged out in front of Freydis where they were killed. The only exception consisted of five women who the men refused to kill no matter how hard Freydis pleaded. She taunted her husband mercilessly for his weakness, but when he still refused, she grabbed an axe and butchered them herself.
The grisly deed may have been gratifying for the formidable Freydis, but it doomed the colony. There were simply too few to sustain another winter, let alone a permanent settlement. She and her husband returned after threatening to kill any man who talked about what happened – and the Vikings never again attempted a settlement in the new world.
There is evidence that they did periodically return to gather raw materials. An Icelandic annal records a voyage ‘in search of Vinland’ in AD 1121, and more than two centuries later mentions a journey to Markland to harvest timber.125 The failure to establish a permanent base, however, also doomed Greenland. The island was simply too rugged and sparse to support a European style existence based on animal husbandry. There was not enough pasture, wood, iron, or farmland available.
Vinland would have solved this problem nicely. At the narrowest point of the Davis Strait, less than two hundred miles separates Greenland from Baffin Island. Beyond lay a vast continent teeming with greater resources than Iceland, Europe, and Scandinavia had to offer. But the Vikings simply had too few people to establish themselves against a determined native population.126 This failure threw the Greenland colony back on its tenuous lifeline of long distance trade with Scandinavia. As long as Viking sea-kings ruled their vast northern empire, that was at least possible, but even by the eleventh century, the trade routes were beginning to shift.
As Greenland began to grow more isolated, the climate started to deteriorate. Starting in the mid fourteenth century, global temperatures began to cool, further reducing the island’s arable land. The glaciers advanced, and the Inuit crossed over from what is today northern Canada and began to push south.
The last years of Greenland’s Viking colonies were not pleasant. A cluster of skeletons exhumed from the Western Settlement reveals a picture of a dying civilization. Half of those who survived to eighteen died before age thirty, and the average height of both men and women is less than five feet. Famine began to be more common; the Icelandic Landnámabók claims that the old and helpless were ‘killed and thrown over cliffs.’ Communication between the two settlements declined as temperatures cooled. After years of hearing nothing, an Easterner named Ivar Bardarson tried to contact the long silent Western colony. He wrote in his diary that he found “no people, neither Christian nor Heathen, but many sheep running wild.”
The surviving eastern settlement struggled on a bit longer. It was decimated by the Black Plague, and in 1379 the “Skrælings (Inuit) raided it, killing eighteen and carrying off two boys as slaves.” The last record we have of anyone living, is the hauntingly short mention in an Icelandic annal: “In the Year of Our Lord 1410… Sigrid Bjornsdatter married Thorstein Olafson.” After that, Icelandic ships stopped going west, and there is only silence.127
The colonies of Greenland were sustained by trade, and ironically, that lifeline was cut by other Vikings. A source for the luxury goods that the remote island provided – the ivory, pelts, and sealskins – was found much closer to the Scandinavian markets in what is today Russia. There was no need to risk life and limb on harrowing journeys across storm tossed seas. All the exotic goods a rich sea-king could ever want, were to be had to the east.