EPLILOGUE

The Viking Legacy

“No man lives till eve, Whom the fates doom at dawning.” 

- Edda of Sæmund the Wise

The world the Vikings left behind was fundamentally changed from the one that they had come crashing into nearly three centuries before. The part they are usually given in this transformation is one of destruction. Even now, almost a millennium after Hardråda died at Stamford Bridge, the enduring image of them is of wild barbarians, leaping from their dragon ships, axes hungry for gore.  

But although they were violent – and they waged war with a ferocity that their victims couldn’t equal – the destruction they brought was ultimately creative. As one historian put it, the burning of the tares makes for richer soil at the next planting. They altered the political and economic landscape wherever they went, and played a critical role in building the foundations of western Europe from Ireland to Russia. 

It was the Vikings who exposed the sprawling empire of Charlemagne, revealing fundamental flaws in the organization of that would-be-Roman Empire. As it broke apart under the hammer blows of the Vikings, the survivors were forced to create smaller, more efficient states. Out of the ashes of the Viking assault rose the four great medieval powers of Western Europe: France, England, The Holy Roman Empire, and the kingdom of Sicily. 

All four of these were direct products of the Viking age, and three of them were founded or consolidated by Viking descendants. Before the Norse arrived, England was politically divided and loosely organized. By wiping out all but one native kingdom, the Vikings ensured that it would be unified by the house of Wessex into a single nation. 

Scotland too, benefited in the long run from Viking depredations. The native Picts, Strathclyde Britons, and Northumbrians who dominated it were all destroyed, leaving the unlikely Scots – Gaelic-speaking Irish immigrants – to unify the northern third of Britain. 

In France, the Vikings founded a state, the Duchy of Normandy, that would redraw the map of Europe. Just two days after Harald Hardråda fell, William the Conqueror, great-great-great-grandson of the Viking Rollo, landed on English soil. He defeated Harold Godwinson at Hastings and was crowned king of England, integrating the island into the broader orbit of western Europe. His successors invaded Ireland, whose brilliant monastic culture had been shattered by the Viking attacks, and added Scotland and the surrounding islands to the western European political orbit. 

Other Normans headed south and west, campaigning in Spain and northern Italy. They crossed to Sicily and founded the west’s wealthiest medieval kingdom there, a rival to mighty Constantinople. At the same time, Viking traders in the east were establishing the market towns and trade routes with Byzantium that would bring Roman institutions far beyond the borders of the ancient Roman empire. The centralized states that they founded would eventually develop into what is today the Ukraine, Belarus, and Russia. 

There was more than brute force to these sea wolves. They were makers of law – the term itself comes from an old Norse word – and they introduced a novel form of trial by jury to England. A century of innovation in shipbuilding climaxed in the great dragon ships, vessels which could cross oceans or sail up fjords and rivers. This technological achievement, one of the brightest of the age, allowed them to establish a sophisticated trading network stretching from Baghdad to the coast of North America.  

But perhaps the greatest Viking trait was not their martial or navigational skills, but their remarkable adaptability. They had a genius for absorbing whatever local traditions they encountered, combining them into new, and dynamic forms. In France, these ‘filthiest of God’s creatures’ created the model chivalric state, in Iceland they set up a Republic based on individual rights, and in Russia they became autocratic defenders of Orthodoxy. 

Where there were no native foundations to build on, the Vikings showed a willingness to experiment, combined with a stubborn practicality. They claimed that Odin himself had advised that “No better burden can a man carry on the road than a store of common sense.” In Iceland in particular, there were plenty of opportunities to put this belief into practice. When changing ecological conditions made it apparent that they would have to abandon some of their rights, they held a vote, deciding to willingly place themselves under the Norwegian crown. In the same gathering they agreed to adopt Christianity – although the majority were still pagan – in order to avoid a religious war. The Christian Icelanders, in turn, preserved their pagan past, faithfully recording both Norse mythology and the exploits of their heathen ancestors. 

This Viking pragmatism flowed back to Scandinavia as well. Cnut introduced Anglo-Saxon style coins to the Viking homelands, and distributed them by means of a government that was based in part on a Byzantine model. The knowledge of southern agriculture and social institutions that returning Vikings brought back with them transformed Scandinavia even more than the wealth that accompanied it. But the most far-reaching change was a result of Christianity, imported from continental sources as far apart as Rome and Russia. What was true of physical distance also spanned the spiritual spectrum of the new faith. Saint Olaf had kinsmen across Europe; he was baptized in Catholic Rouen and took shelter in Orthodox Novgorod. 

The very alien-ness of the Vikings to the modern world is, in a way, a testament to their adaptability. The Norse homelands today are model social democracies, known for their stability, order, and unflappable citizens. Their flags all proudly display a cross, and instead of raiding, they hand out peace prizes. They could hardly be more different than the brutal, and bloodthirsty pagan warriors who overturned the medieval world. 

And yet, there is something bewitching about that vanished age, with its blend of exotic beauty and violence, its cunning raiders and wild, untamed adventurers. The pull they still exert can be seen all around us from cruise ships to NASA probes named Viking, from common nautical terms to town names that end with -bec in France or -by in England.²⁰⁵ Three of the days of the week are named after Viking gods, and a Viking king’s name graces Bluetooth, the ubiquitous wireless technology that connects our phones and computers.²⁰⁶ 

Perhaps it is a longing for, as a nameless exile once mused in the Anglo-Saxon poem, The Wanderer, a time that “has grown dark under cover of night, as if it had never been.” Or perhaps it is a resonance with individuals who pitted themselves against the world and – for two and a half centuries – carried all before them. Either way, one suspects that the Vikings themselves would be pleased with their enduring reputation. “All men are mortal“, they were fond of saying, “only a noble name can live forever.”