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The History of English Podcast
Episode 52: Bloody Axes and a Battle Royal
00:56:14
In the mid-900s, the English king battled a grand alliance of Celtic and Viking leaders at a place called Brunanburh. The result was an Anglo-Saxon victory, and one of the more important poems composed during the Old English period.
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Welcome to the History of English Podcast, a podcast about the history of the English language. This is episode 52, Bloody Axes and a Battle Royal in this episode we're going to continue our look at the Norse influence on English. Last time we explored how sound changes reveal many of the Viking words in modern English. This time we'll continue to look at the north south divide in 10th century England. We'll look at the final years of King Athelstan's rule, and we'll explore how a great alliance of northern kingdoms culminated in one of the greatest battles of the entire Anglo Saxon period, a battle commemorated in a well known Old English poem, the Battle of Brunanburh. And we'll also continue to explore the large number of Viking words which entered English. But before we begin, let me remind you that the website for the podcast is historyofenglishpodcast.com and my email is kevinistoryofenglishpodcast.com and you can follow me on Twitter @english histpod. In this episode I'm going to explore the Old English poem the Battle of Brunanburh, and I'm going to be reading some of that poem in its original Old English. But if you want to listen to even more Old English, let me recommend the Beowulf Deconstructed Audiobook, which is available at the website, itunes and Amazon.com One more quick note before we begin. In the last episode, I included a clip from the Story of English documentary which PBS did back in the 1980s and which is available on YouTube. And I stated that Jim Lehrer was the host of that series. And as soon as I posted that episode I realized that I misspoke. It was actually Robert McNeil, and I guess all of those years of watching the McNeill lair NewsHour got me confused, but several of you contacted me to note the corrections, so I thought I would mention it here. That particular series is actually quite good, and it's worth the time if you want a good overview of the history of English. I also noticed that Melvin Bragg's series the Adventure of English is also available on YouTube and it's actually titled the History of the English Language when I looked at YouTube a few days ago, so you might want to check that out as well. Of course, if you don't want any spoilers, just check out the early episodes and wait for the podcast to catch up, which may take another year or two, but we'll get there eventually. So let's turn to this episode at our point in the overall history of English, we're focusing on the early Norse influences on the language in the 10th century. Last time we looked at the growing north south linguistic divide which emerged after the Viking invasions. The Viking settlers in the Danelaw brought lots of Norse words which began to mix in with the local English dialects. Now, up to this point, I've spoken of the Viking influence in the Danelaw region in the north and east of England, and I've noted that there was comparatively little Viking influence outside of the Danelaw in the south and west. So the basic dividing line was from the southeast to the northwest, because that was the Danelaw border. But increasingly, we can begin to think of the linguistic divide which emerged as more of a north south divide. It appears that Scandinavian settlement was actually more concentrated in the north in places like York. And then the Norwegian Vikings from Ireland moved into the same region, which tended to reinforce that Scandinavian influence there. Meanwhile, the Wessex monarchy had conquered East Anglia in the east and the southeast, and East Anglia was being incorporated into the new unified English state without too much difficulty. So the Norse influence there began to fade a little bit. The net result was that the southern parts of England quickly emerged as a unified political entity under Wessex rule, but the north remained distinct politically, culturally and linguistically. So, going forward, I'll speak more in terms of the north south divide rather than the northeast southwest divide. But I just wanted to note that even though I may refer to a north south split, some of those Norse influences were present in places in the southeast as well, just not to the same extent. Now, I've noted that Athelstan was the first Anglo Saxon king to rule over all of the Anglo Saxon kingdoms, including York. So many historians consider him to be the first true king of the Anglo Saxons. We might even call him the first King of England. The only problem with that specific title is that the north wasn't completely on board yet. As we'll see in this episode, York would continue to pass back and forth between the Anglo Saxons and the Vikings over the next few decades. So, in terms of when did England actually begin? Some historians prefer to wait until the north was permanently on board a few decades later. But either way, we can definitely call Aethelstan the first true king of all the Anglo Saxons. Athelstan actually took that one step further. On his coins, he styled himself Rex Totius Britanniae, which was literally king of all of Britain. And he had some basis for claiming that title. His supremacy was acknowledged by the northern Celtic kings as well as the Welsh kings. He didn't directly rule over those regions. But he was basically their overlord, so he could legitimately claim direct or indirect rule over the entire island. But the situation in the north was shaky, to say the least. Those northern kings resented and feared Athelstan's power. And the Norwegian Vikings in York had no interest in being ruled by Wessex, even though he claimed supremacy over the entire island. That authority was challenged in the year 934. In that year, the king of the Scots, Constantine, broke his treaty with Athelstan. The details are unclear, but he may have simply refused to pay the required tribute to Athelstan. All we know is that Athelstan sent an army into Scotland in that year. As a show of power, he raided and plundered a large portion of the Scottish kingdom. But the Scots largely avoided battle. The northern kings couldn't actually defeat Athelstan alone, so they had little choice but to submit to him. But after that excursion in 934, the Northern Kings started to form an alliance. Northern Britain wasn't unified under Scottish rule yet. There was a distinct Scottish kingdom, but there were other kingdoms as well, Cumbria and Strathclyde. And the leaders of those respective kingdoms began to realize that the only chance they had against Athelstan was as a unified force. And they also sought to bring York into that alliance. York was basically a buffer zone between the Anglo Saxon kingdoms in the south and and the Celtic regions in the north. So the Scottish king Constantine probably preferred that it remain a buffer zone. And that meant that it needed to be ruled by the Vikings, not the Wessex king, Athelstan. So Constantine allied with those Norse Vikings in York as well. The important thing to understand about these events is that it was completely unprecedented. In earlier generations of particular Welsh or Scottish king might ally with another Welsh or Scottish king, or with an Anglo Saxon king, or even with a Danish or Norse king. But there had never been a grand alliance in which all of the Celtic speaking people of Britain allied with each other and allied themselves with the Scandinavians in York. But with all of the Anglo Saxons now combined under one king in the south, the only way to counteract that was for everyone else on the island to band together. So this was leading up to a great battle, the Anglo Saxons versus everyone else. But the alliance proved to be one of the worst kept secrets in Britain. And we know that because a Welsh poem exists from this same period which describes how this alliance was being formed and which anticipates a great defeat of the Anglo Saxons. The poem was composed in Wales in Welsh and bears a Welsh name, Armis Prudh and I hope that pronunciation is at least close. The name meant the prophecies of Britain. One of the fascinating aspects of the poem is that the poet is almost giddy at the prospect of driving the Anglo Saxons out of Britain. He describes how the Welsh have allied with the Scots and the other Celtic peoples of Britain, including the Cornish, and they've joined with the Irish, the men of Dublin, so presumably the Norse Vikings from Dublin who had settled in York. The poem then describes the defeat of the Anglo Saxons. It vividly describes the crimson gore on the cheeks of the Almune. Almune was a term for the Anglo Saxons, and it was a fascinating choice of words. Allmune is a Germanic term and it meant all men. And it's the same term which was used to describe the Alemannic tribe in Germany, and it's still used as the name of the nation of Germany in French and Spanish. So from the perspective of the Welsh, or at least from the perspective of this particular poet, the Anglo Saxons weren't viewed as a distinct new people, the English. Instead, they were still viewed as Germanic invaders, largely indistinguishable from their cousins back on the continent. And the poem says that they all will be driven out of Britain and forced to return to their native land. Another interesting aspect of the poem is that it states that the prophecy is foretold by Mirdin. Now, Mirdin is apparently a prophet who is capable of seeing the future, and Mirdin is the original version of Merlin. In fact, this particular poem is the first known reference to the figure of Merlin. And as we saw in an earlier episode, the legend of the Celtic king Arthur had grown in Wells in the years after the Anglo Saxons arrived. Arthur was the Celtic king who had fought against the invading Anglo Saxons, and that legend had taken root. And over the next few generations, the figure of Merlin would be added to the overall story. The fact that this Welsh poem exists proves that the stories of the grand alliance against the Anglo Saxons had spread throughout the island. And that suggests that Athelstan probably got word of the alliance as well. A key factor in this alliance was the support of the Northumbrians, and that included both the Vikings of Northumbria as well as the native Anglo Saxons there, who opposed Wessex rule. In the year 937, the Northern Allied forces gathered in Northumbria once again, the details are unclear, but they apparently moved south and attacked the Eastern Midlands, basically eastern Mercia. And Athelstan engaged the allied forces at a fort called Brunanburh, the exact site of Brunanburh has never been identified. It's generally believed that it was one of the frontier forts on the southern border of Northumbria. The battle began with an early morning assault by the Anglo Saxons. They were led by Athelstan and his brother Edmund, who would soon succeed Athelstan as the king of Wessex. The Anglo Saxons actually fought as separate armies. The West Saxons fought against the Celts, and the Mercians fought against the Vikings. It was a gruesome battle royal. Both sides experienced heavy losses, but the army of the northern allies experienced the heaviest losses. Several northern kings and Viking earls were killed, and a son of Constantine, the King of the Scots, was also killed. By nightfall, the Anglo Saxons had emerged victorious, and what remained of the northern allies escaped into the darkness. The northern coalition had been shattered. To commemorate this great Anglo Saxon victory, the scribes who maintained the Anglo Saxon chronicle did something which was unusual at the time. Rather than including a straightforward entry for the year which summarized the battle, they chose instead to include a poem. The poem is known as the Battle of Brunanburg, and it's one of the important poems of the entire Old English period. In modern English, the opening lines of the poem read, here King Athelstan, lord of Earls, ring giver to men, and his brother Prince Edmund, earned eternal fame, won in battle with the edges of swords at Brunanburh. Here's the same passage in the original Old English Herr Athelstan kuening erla drichten bernor berch and his brother Etch eadmon atheling el dorlangitter jes slogan et sace sverda ejum jum wa Brunnemberg. The poem then paints the imagery of men fighting. It describes how the men fought from sunrise to sunset and how the battlefield was covered with blood. The poet describes the conflict and notice the Old English alliteration. There lay many warriors. There lie Sajmani slain by spears. Men of the north karumayatted Guma nordna shot over their shields, the Scottish as well Over Schildschulten svelchtisch eatch Weary and sated with war, West Saxons went forth Wieri wi e sad west Saxaforth all day long all the troops on Langdeuilstum they legged the trail of the hateful people on las legdum la thum theodum Hewed down the fugitives from behind harshly heroine Herr Freeman hindantirla with their sharpened swords mecum muhlen scherpum when the fighting was over, we're told that five lay on the battlefield or campstead. Young kings viva lachen antham kampts data cuningis jonga. I should note here that the poet refers to the battlefield as kampstede or campstead. This is actually a common term for a battlefield. Stead is pretty straightforward. It means a place or location, as in homestead or farmstead. But why would they call a battlefield a campstead? They aren't camping out, they're fighting. Well, camp was an early Germanic borrowing from the Latin spoken by the Romans on the continent. It's one of the oldest Latin words in English, and in fact, it predates English, so the Anglo Saxons always had it in their language. In Latin, it meant an open field or space. And that original sense still survives in the sense of the word as a campsite, an open space for setting up camp. It also survives in the word campus. But open spaces were often used for military exercises, and battles were generally fought in open spaces as well, because guerrilla warfare wasn't really common at the time. So camp became associated with the place where troops trained and fought. In Old English, the word acquired an association with the military, and specifically it came to mean a battle or fight. So a campstead is the place where a battle takes place. The word camp acquired a similar sense in late Latin and French, where it produced the word campaign, a military exercise or movement. And we've seen before that the Latin k sound became a ch sound in many later French words. That's how Karl became Charles. Well, that same sound change in French converted camp into champion, the victor in a battle. And that word also passed into English with the Normans. But the original Old English sense of the word camp as a battle or fight died out over time. And several centuries later, in the early modern English period, the word camp was reborrowed from Latin, and this time it came back in with its original meaning as an open space. And that's the sense which we still have today. So, returning to the battle of Brunanburh, we've seen that the five northern kings lay dead on the campstead or battlefield. In the words of the poet, they'd been put to sleep with swords. Suerdum on Suevere. The poet then states that seven earls of the Viking king and numerous other men had also been slain in battle. The Viking king fled to a ship and sailed out to sea, saving his life. The Scottish king Constantine also fled, but the poet tells us that he left his young son lifeless on the battlefield. The defeated northern allies returned home, and Athelstan and his brother Edmund Returned to Wessex victorious. The poem then concludes by putting the victory in historical context. The poet tells us that it was the greatest victory since the Anglo Saxons had arrived in Britain and conquered the native Welsh. He writes, never was there more slaughter on this island ever. Yet neva theus islanda avra yata of folk felled before this time with the edges of swords Phocis jeffialed beiforence thesum swerides ejum Even since the time when books tell us that the Angles and Saxons came from the east. Thus the o sedgy eld uthwitan sith unhidr angel un saxe ut be kommen over the broad seas they salt Britain proud warsmiths over bribrimo bretena sogten will launch me. Thus they overcame the Welsh, the earls eager for glory, and they conquered the country. Welas overkommen erlis arwattee erdbe geoton. So that was the Battle of Brunnenburg. And even though we're nearing the last century of the Anglo Saxon period, note how traditional this poem sounds. It almost sounds like an excerpt from Beowulf with its praise of the Germanic warrior code. In fact, the poet even uses variations of the same stock phrases used in the Beowulf poem. In Beowulf, the poet describes the sun moving through the sky as hewvenes jim gladwe grundis, literally heaven's gem glided over the ground. In the Battle of Brunenburg, the poet describes the sun passing over the battlefield as glad of agundis godes kando bergt literally glided over the ground God's bright candle. So it's basically the same stock phrase, except here the poet describes the sun as God's bright candle instead of heaven's gem. The main point is that the more things change, the more they tend to stay the same. The unified English kingdom may have been staunchly Christian, but the deep Germanic roots of the Anglo Saxons were still very strong in the 10th century, and the language and poetry of Wessex was still relatively unchanged. In fact, it's difficult to find any Old Norse influences in the poem we just looked at. In fact, the only obvious Norse word in the entire poem is the word knaer, which was a Norse word meaning a merchant ship. Apparently, the West Saxons had picked up that word through trade with the Vikings, and it was used in English as a general term for ship. So the poet describes how the defeated Viking king boarded his ship and fled the region. The poet writes, kreiad kner on flot kunning ut jarot he pressed the ship afloat, the king went out. The poem also uses the word sache for a battle or war. Now, that's not a Norse word, it's an English word. But the form of that word confirms that Norse influences were still very limited in Wessex. And let me explain what I mean. The word satya, meaning a battle, is actually derived from the original version of the word seek. Of course, seek means to search for something or pursue something. And that original sense of the word led to a sense of a military action or campaign, as in seeking victory. But as we know, the k sound often became a ch sound in Old English. So in Old English, the word evolved from to sache, and it came to refer to a battle. Now, that version of the word still exists in the word beseech, with its ch sound at the end and with its sense of demanding or begging something. So if the K sound shifted to a ch sound, why is the modern English word seek and not seech except in beseech? Well, it's because of the Vikings. The Vikings also had a version of the word sikh with the k sound at the end. And our modern word sik was influenced by the Norse pronunciation in the north of England. But notice that the Battle of Brunanburh, written by West Saxon scribes, used sache with the traditional English ch sound. So this is actually more confirmation that the Norse influence had hadn't really reached Wessex yet. I should note here that modern English has another word related to warfare, which was borrowed from the Vikings and which also uses the Norse version of that word seek. And that's the word ransack, as in to pillage or plunder. Some people mistakenly assume that ransack is based on the word sack, because when someone plunders a place, they might put valuables in a sack. But that's not actually correct. That type of sack came from French, and it didn't enter English until much later. Ransack is a Viking term which combines the word ran, meaning house, with sakje, which is the Norse version of the word Sikh. So it literally meant seeking or searching for something in a house. And again, it seems appropriate that ransack comes from the Vikings, given their reputation for plunder and looting. But even though ransack came from the Vikings, it wasn't used by the West Saxon scribes. Like so many Norse words, it isn't actually attested in writing until the Normans arrived and defeated the Wessex monarchy. Only at that later date did the new Norman scribes begin to document many of these Viking words which are in common use. In the north of England. So the major point here is that the northern Norse influence hadn't really seeped into Wessex at this point in our story. In the mid-900s, the West Saxons were still speaking and composing poems in their traditional Old English dialect. So despite the growing linguistic divide, the language of Wessex had changed very little. With Aethelstan's victory at Brunanburh, the grand alliance of the northern kings was destroyed. Yet for all the glory of the victory, it actually settled very little in the long run. Athelstan had defended and secured his new English kingdom. But in the north, the balance of power remained largely the same. The northern kings still ruled their own domains and the Norse Vikings were still hanging out in York. So English rule of York continued to be shaky, and that tenuous hold on York was put to the test in the years following the death of Aethelstan in the year 939, just two years after Brunanburg. Athelstan had never married and he didn't have any children, so the new king was his younger brother, Edmund, the one who had fought alongside him at Brunanburg. Edmund was a teenager, and in fact, we're now entering the period in which the next few English kings are known as the boy kings. The next six kings were all very young, all but one was a teenager. And it's easy to lump the next five together because they all had very similar Edmund, Edred, Edwy, Edgar and Edward. Collectively, their reigns covered a period of about 40 years. This time we'll focus on the first two, Edmund and Eadred, both brothers of Athelstan. Collectively, they ruled for a period of about 16 years. And during that time, the control of York went back and forth between the English and the Vikings. In fact, during that 16 year period, four different Viking kings ruled York in between the periods when the English kings were in charge. And this is important because it serves to illustrate how important the Vikings were in that region. The ultimate problem for the Wessex kings was that there were lots of competing interests in York. There were the established Danish Vikings as well as the newly arrived Norwegian Vikings from Ireland. And there were the native Anglo Saxons of Northumbria. And now they were all under the rule of the southern Anglo Saxons. But even the two groups of Anglo Saxons couldn't get along. The Anglo Saxons of Northumbria viewed the Anglo Saxon kings of Wessex with suspicion and they prefer to govern themselves. So York was this complicated cultural melting pot. It was also the biggest city in the north and it was second in size only to London in The south. A contemporary writer said York had a population of about 30,000 people, but modern historians think it was actually a little closer to 10,000. Even so, that made it one of the larger cities in Western Europe. York had initially been a Roman city, and it still retains some buildings and structures from the Roman period, though many were uninhabited by this point. And after the Anglo Saxons arrived, York had been the traditional capital of Northumbria. So the early Celtic Britons in this region had been overtaken by the Anglo Saxons. Remember that Cadmon's Hymn was composed in Northumbria by an Anglo Saxon poet named Cadmon. But Cdmon was a Celtic name, so the evidence suggests that a cultural mix had been in place even before the Vikings arrived. But then the early Danes swept in and made York a northern capital of the Danelaw. And now the Norwegian Vikings had settled in the same region. As I noted last time, York became a vital link in the Viking trade networks extending from Ireland to Scandinavia. Reports indicate that there was actually a Viking quarter of York. It was densely populated and dirty. It was occupied by leather shops, weapon shops, and craftsmen making pins, brooches and buckles. Viking cargo ships imported and exported Viking goods from the city, and most of the trade through York was by ship. The region could still be a rough and violent place. In fact, Southern merchants were encouraged to travel in groups of 20 when they headed there to trade. So there wasn't a lot of overground trade between York and the southern kingdoms. Most of York's trade was nautical, and much of that trade was conducted by the Vikings, so that reinforced the Scandinavian presence there. As we saw last time, the Viking presence was changing the language of the region by importing lots of new Norse words. It was also changing the grammar, which we'll look at next time. And increasingly, Southerners couldn't understand the dialects in the north. Those Viking traders brought lots of Norse words related to ships. As I noted earlier, the word knare, meaning a ship, was borrowed from the Vikings. Last time we saw that. Keel, as in the keel of a ship, was also borrowed. The word fairy, which originally meant a water passage, was also borrowed from the Vikings. A boat which was used at the ferry, was called a ferry boat, and eventually the boat itself just became a ferry. Nautical terms like rig and reef, as in the reef of a sail, also came from the Vikings. The word skate, as in a type of fish, came from Old Norse. And gill, as in a fish gill, was likely borrowed from the Norse. The word bait used to catch fish, also came in. And when you're trying to Catch fish, You might cast a net or cast a fishing line. Well, caste also came from the Vikings. We also see Viking influence in non linguistic areas as well. For example, the Vikings and the ancient Romans believed that in order to ensure good fortune for a ship and its crew, the keel of a newly built ship had to taste the blood of a living person when it was first launched. Slaves or prisoners were tied to the keel blocks. And as the ship slipped down the launching ramp into the water, it would crush the victim. This often left blood on the keel. Needless to say, that was kind of gruesome. So over time, red wine was used as a substitute for blood. Sometimes it was simply poured on the deck or the bow of the ship. But eventually it became common practice to simply smash the bottle against the bow. And of course that tradition continues to this day. So the Viking influence was strong in York. And it's important to emphasize that the local Anglo Saxons in Northumbria sometimes preferred Viking rule over Wessex rule. This may seem a little surprising, but the Northumbrians had a long history of independence and if necessary, they would ally with the Vikings to try to maintain that independence. This attitude is probably best represented by the figure of Wulfstan, the Archbishop of York. He was as much a political leader as a religious leader. And he was a staunch and resolute northerner. In addition to being a cleric, he was an aristocrat. And he led the local Witan, the group of advisors to the king. And it was that group who technically elected the king. So he emerged as a vital figure behind the scenes. And he strongly opposed southern rule. And despite the fact that he was a cleric and an Anglo Saxon, he was willing to ally with the pagan Vikings to oppose the Christian kings down south. So as we can see, politics makes strange bedfellows and fellow is actually another Viking word. So maybe it was appropriate that the Northumbrians were willing to be bedfellows with the Vikings. And this was the situation which Athelstan's brother Edmund inherited when he became King of Wessex in 939. Without Athelstan's strong leadership, the Wessex hold on Northumbria began to slip. Soon after Edmund became king, the Norwegian King of Dublin, Olaf Guthfriesson, seized control of York. And that didn't just happen by accident. Olaf had secured the support of Archbishop Wulfstand behind the scenes. Once they had control of York, the Norse Vikings then headed south from York and and sacked territories in Mercia in the Midlands. And Archbishop Wulfstan actually accompanied the Vikings on that expedition. Within A very short period of time, the York Vikings had rolled back all of Athelstan's gains and even reclaimed much of the old Danelaw. But then the Viking king died and he was succeeded by another Norse king, Olaf Sitricson. Now the second king Olaf lacked his predecessor's ambition and skill. And by the year 942, Edmund had amassed a formidable army and he was able to drive the second King Olaf out of the Midlands. Then the internal divisions and rivalries within Northumbria came into play. A rival group of Northumbrians rebelled against Olaf and expelled him from York. He was succeeded by a rival to the throne, a brother of the first King Olaf. But a short time later, Edmund moved into York itself and defeated both groups of Vikings. And that brought York back under English control. So despite the horrible start, Edmund had finally reversed his fortunes and reclaimed all of what had been lost early on. But Archbishop Wolfstan wasn't willing to give up that easily. Four years later, King Edmund was murdered by an outlaw who had entered the King's hall uninvited. Edmund was only 24 when he died and his children were still infants. So he was succeeded by his brother Edred. And once again, Edred immediately had to deal with the situation in York. The Witan of York, led by Wulfstan, initially professed loyalty to Edred. But then they turned around and invited a terrifying Viking named Eric Bloodaxe to be their king. By the way, Bloodaxe was not a family name. It was was more of a description. He was actually the son of the first Norwegian king named Harald Fairhair. Harald had been the first king to subdue and unite all of the smaller kingdoms of Norway. But when Harald died there, his numerous sons began to fight for their inheritance. Eric killed his rivals and briefly emerged as king, thereby earning his nickname, the Blood Axe. But he also alienated many of the nobles in norway. His young 15 year old half brother had been raised in Athelstan's court in England. So a group of wealthy landowners in Norway brought the brother back from England and they kicked out Eric. By that point, Eric had lost so much support that he elected to sail away rather than stay and fight for control. He initially landed in Northern Britain and plundered Scotland, but then he traveled down to York. Now again, the circumstances are not clear, but. But the Northumbrian Witan, led by Archbishop Wulfstan, invited Eirik to be the new King of York. His initial rule in York was very brief. It appears that he ruled from 947 into 948. During that time, coins were minted in York which bore his name, Eric Rex, literally King Eric. They were modeled on the English coinage. But the selection of Eirik as king was a breach of the prior recognition of the Wessex king, Edred. So in the summer of 948, Edred amassed an army and he rode back into Northumbria. Edred burned towns, knocked down fortifications and killed those who stood in his way. But Eric's Northumbrian troops ambushed the rear guard of the West Saxons, and they inflicted a defeat on the trailing soldiers. Edred's main army wasn't even aware of the defeat at first, but when they found out, Edred threatened to return and burn down the entire region. At this point, the Northumbrian Witan realized that they'd gone too far. They backed down and abandoned Erik, and they sent ambassadors to Edred to inform him that they now recognized him as king again. And at the end of 948, Edred was once again recognized as king in Northumbria, and Eric was sent into exile. But the next year, that second king, Olaf, who had ruled York a few years earlier, returned from Dublin and he once again emerged as King of York. So, as you can see, the leadership of York was a revolving door. But interestingly, Edred, down in Wessex, didn't challenge Olaf's position in York. So Olaf apparently recognized Edred's authority as overlord, and he probably paid him tribute. But a couple of years later, the Northumbrians drove out Olaf again, and Erryk Bloodaxe returned from exile and became King of York for the second time. So the turnover in York continued. Not only did kings come and go, but quite often the old kings came back and ruled again. But while the Wessex king, Edred had tolerated Olaf, he couldn't bear Eric Bloodaxe. The selection of Eric outraged the Wessex court. The rumor was that Archbishop Wulfstan was once again behind the move. So the next time Wolfstan traveled south, he. He was placed under house arrest. He was held in an old Roman fort in Essex. Wolf's Den was now out of the picture, but Eric Bloodaxe continued to rule York for the next two years. But in the year 954, Eric was killed in battle. Once again, the circumstances are very vague. The Anglo Saxon Chronicle only says that the Northumbrians expelled Eirik. But later Norse chronicles describe a battle between Eric and Wilson, one or more other kings in the north. As we've seen, there were lots of rival factions in the region. At any rate, it appears that the Nobles who had supported Eric simply deserted him. Over time, maybe he wore out his welcome, just as he did in Norway, but the bottom line is that Eric Bloodaxe was now dead and Edred once again swept in and secured York for Wessex. Archbishop Wulfstan was released from prison, but he died two years later and he never returned to York. And the back to back deaths of Eric Bloodaxe and Archbishop Wulfstan effectively ended Scandinavian rule in York. It had been a messy business, but York was now a permanent part of the unified Anglo Saxon kingdom. When Edred, the Wessex king, died the next year, he died as the king of a permanently unified English nation. Well, it was unified politically, but culturally and linguistically, the situation on the ground remained much the same. A strong north south divide still existed, and for many generations thereafter, the Northumbrians lamented the loss of their independence and they were nostalgic for their own king. As we've seen, the north south differences were highlighted and reinforced by the linguistic differences. All of those Norse words were mixing in with English words in the region around York. And last time, we explored how English sound changes reveal many of the Norse words in modern English. But those were just a few of the Viking words which have survived the centuries. So I want to spend the remainder of this episode focusing on some other very common English words which were borrowed from the Vikings. One of the underlying themes of this episode is warfare and military conflict. And given the extensive fighting between the Vikings and the Anglo Saxons, it isn't really surprising that we have lots of Norse words related to fighting and the consequences of fighting. I've noted before that the word slaughter was borrowed from the Vikings and it's cognate with the native English word slay. But slaughter provides a much more violent and gruesome imagery. Of course, when men are slaughtered in battle, they die. And die is also a Viking word. Interestingly, English had native versions of that word. The noun death and the adjective dead are both native English words, but English didn't have a verb version of that word to describe the process of dying. The Anglo Saxons used the word swelten, which survives in the word swelter. The word still has a sense of suffering, as in extremely hot, but it doesn't mean dying anymore. Another Old English word to describe the process of dying was stervan, which survives as the word starve. Again, the sense of the word has been limited over time. Technically, it can describe someone dying from lack of food, but it usually is used simply to mean hungry and another Old English word to describe the process of dying was kringan, which meant to die in battle. And it could also mean to bend over or bend something. The connection is that a soldier who receives a mortal sword blow would typically bend over and fall to the ground. And that word kringan, still survives as the word cringe. And a later variation of that word is krinkle. So all of those original Old English words survive in a more limited sense. But the Anglo Saxons borrowed the word die die from the Vikings, presumably because it resembled the native words death and dead. And this is a good example of how Norse words were borrowed. Since they often resembled English words and had a similar meaning to English words, they were borrowed as variations of the same basic idea or concept. So Norse die came in as the verb form of English death and dead. And the words which the Anglo Saxons had been using previously, swelter, starve and cringe, became restricted to other, more limited uses over time. Now, given the violent contact between the Vikings and the Anglo Saxons, it probably isn't surprising that English borrowed the words anger and ill from Old Norse. Before the word anger was borrowed, the Anglo Saxons used the words ire and wrath. Of course, both of those native words still survive. The word ill was borrowed from the Vikings with a similar meaning. It originally had more of a sense of evil, hurtful or bad. We still have some of that sense when we speak of someone being ill tempered or in an ill mood. But over time, it developed a sense of being sick. So today, when we say that someone is feeling ill, we usually mean that they feel sick or they're under the weather. By the way, sick is an Old English word. So today ill and sick are synonyms, one being Norse and one being Old English. Another possible Norse word is the word cut. Traditionally, it's been considered a Viking word, though some modern scholars suggest other origins. Whatever its origin, it largely replaced the Old English words carve and shear. So the net result of these Norse words was lots of synonyms in late Old English and early Middle English. And just as in the last episode, we see lots of English and Norse pairs. We have English sick and Norse ill. We have English ire and wrath and Norse anger. We have English carve and shear and Norse cut. And here are some other common English Norse pairs. With respect to flowers, we have the Old English word blossom and the Norse word bloom. Both words are cognate. And I've noted before that the Indo European B sound became an F sound in Latin. That's why we have English brother and Latin fraternal. Well, here the same Indo European root word which produced bloom and blossom in the Germanic languages produced the word flower from Latin. So that makes flower, bloom and blossom. Cognate. We can also use English Norse cognates to describe someone who's lazy. We can use the native English word slack, or we can use the Norse word slouch. And here's another interesting pair of smile and smirk. Smirk is actually the native Old English word, but smile was a Germanic borrowing which first appears in writing around the year 1300, and many linguists think that it came from the Vikings. Originally, smile and smirk meant the same thing, but over time, the borrowed Viking word smile became the dominant word. And if we think about smile and smirk, they're very similar. But smirk has more of a negative sense. And that's interesting, because smirk is actually the native English word. The Viking word smile has the more positive connotation, and that's actually the opposite of what usually happened. Usually the Norse word has the negative sense. Another English Norse pair is bask and bathe. Bask is the Old Norse word, and bathe is the Old English word. Today, they have similar but distinct meanings. But if you think about it, when you bask in the spotlight, you're literally bathing in the spotlight. But bask has that Norse k sound at the end, and it's the borrowed Viking word. Now, in addition to all of these English Norse synonyms, I should note that the Vikings also provided synonyms for basic words like to, from, and no. From time to time, you may hear someone use the phrase to and fro. You might assume that fro is just a colloquial way of saying from by dropping the final consonant, but that's not actually the case. Frozen fro was a distinct Norse word. Of course, it was cognate with the English word from, but both were distinct synonyms, with the Norse fro being more common in the north of England. So to and fro uses an English word, and a Norse word. To is English, fro is Norse. But we also get a variation of the word to from the Vikings. The Norse version of the word to was to till. So in a phrase like from dusk till dawn, the till is from the Vikings. And you might assume that tyl is just a shortened version of the word until, but it's actually not. Till was a distinct word in Old Norse, and until was a separate Norse word, but it used a construction based on the word tyl, which was the root word. So tyl and until came from the Vikings, and they both entered the Northern English dialects around places like York. Then they passed into early Middle English. In the south of England, the native word to was more common, but over time, all of those words mixed together and basically became synonyms. By the way, I gave the example of the phrase from dusk till dawn. In fact, almost that entire phrase may have been influenced by the Vikings. Both dusk and dawn show Norse influences. That sk sound at the end of dusk is a big clue that we're looking at a Norse word. Prior to the Viking invasions, the Anglo Saxons rarely used that sound. And we looked at a long list of Norse words which began with that sound in the last episode. So when we see that sound in these old Germanic words, it's a big clue that we're looking at a borrowed Viking word. And the word dawn is cognate with the English word day. But the evolution of the word appears to be influenced by a Norse word, doggen, which meant a dawning. We've seen before that the G sound sometimes shifted to a W sound in later English. So it appears that the Anglo Saxons in the north borrowed the Norse word doggen, and the G in the middle became a W sound over time, and it produced dawen, and then that later shortened to simply dawn. So three quarters of the words in from dusk till dawn are Norse words. So we've seen that the Vikings gave us variations of common words like to and from. And along the same lines, they also gave us a variation of the word no. Specifically, they gave us the word ne, and we still use ne when voting, as in vote, yea or nay. We also have it in the word naysayer. But nay is simply the Norse version of no. And speaking of no and nay, some people say aye instead of yes, especially if they're a pirate, as in aye, aye, captain. Well, some etymologies attribute I to Old Norse as well. So those are some examples of English Norse synonyms, situations where the English and Norse words both derive from the same root and both retain similar meanings. If we compare those with the words which we looked at in the last episode, you can start to see how common Norse words are in modern English and how they supplemented the language. So we've explored a lot of synonyms, words with similar meanings. But sometimes the Anglo Saxons borrowed a Viking word which had a completely different meaning than the English version. And sometimes the Viking version replaced and superseded the original English meaning. So I noted in an earlier episode that the English version of the word gift meant a bride price or dowry, but the Norse version meant any type of donation or present. So English borrowed the Norse word and eventually took the Norse meaning of the word. A similar situation happened with the word plough, which I've mentioned before. In Old English, a plough was a measure of land, the amount of land a couple of oxen could plow in a day. But in Old Norse, a plough was a farming tool. And once again, English borrowed the Viking word and eventually adopted the Norse meaning. Another example of this process is the word dream. In Old English, dream meant joy and revelry, but the Old Norse version of the word draumer meant a vision experienced while sleeping. Well, here English retained the Old English form of the word dream, but it borrowed the meaning from Old Norse. So when we speak of our dreams, we're really using the Norse meaning of the word. So that type of process suggests very close and intimate contact, where the overall forms and meanings of the words became confused over time. So we end up with the English form of the word, but the Norse meaning. Another example is the word bread. Today, bread is a general term for the food we eat, but in Old English, it had a sense of a small piece of bread. In fact, it could be used to refer to a small piece of any kind of food. The normal word for baked dough in Old English was hlof, which became our modern word, loaf. And you might remember that hlof was an original part of the words lord and lady, which were the loaf guardian and the loaf maiden. But over time, the meaning of hlof became restricted to the actual loaf of bread in the sense that we use it today. And bread evolved from a small piece of food to bread in the more general sense that we use the term today. So what happened there? Well, some linguists think that it was the result of Old Norse influence. Old Norse had the word brouth, and it meant baked dough in the general sense that we use the word bread today. So it's believed that the Anglo Saxons borrowed the general Norse meaning and that gave English two general words for bread, bread and loaf. So loaf became more restricted over time, and it took on the more limited meaning that we have today as the actual loaf of bread itself. And bread thereby acquired the more general Norse sense as a general term for baked dough. Another example of Old Norse changing the meaning of an English word is the word mood. It originally meant heart, courage or frame of mind in Old English. So modi or moody could mean proud. And the sense of the word as frame of mind still exists when we speak of someone being in the mood to do something. But the Norse version of the word meant anger or wrath. So today, when we refer to someone as being moody, as in having a bad temperament. That meaning may be traced back to the Vikings. And that actually makes sense because we don't tend to think of the Vikings as being very friendly. The word dwell also changed under Norse influence. In Old English, the word meant to mislead, deceive or lead astray. So it was a type of deception. But within Old Norse, the word dwell developed a sense of hinder or delay, which kind of makes sense. If you lead someone astray in the English sense of the word, you're hindering or delaying them, which is the Norse sense of the word. Well, that Norse sense of being hindered or delayed led to a sense of remaining in a particular place for a long period of time. So English borrowed this Norse meaning, and today dwell no longer has its original English meaning of deception. It now has the Norse meaning of living in a particular place or making a home somewhere. Another word which changed under Norse influence was the incredibly common preposition with. With is an Old English word, and Old Norse had a version of the same word. But it might surprise you to find out that in Old English, with didn't mean together or beside. It actually meant the opposite. It meant against or opposed to. In Old English, if you wanted to express the idea of being together, you used the word mid, which still exists in a word like midwife. Of course, if you were with others, you were surrounded by them, and that led to the more common sense of mid as middle. Both senses of the word mid were in common use in Old English. But to express the idea of being against something we, you might use the Old English word with. The closest example of that original usage in Modern English is a phrase like have an argument with someone or two nations going to war with each other. But with also has a sense of close proximity in those usages. A better example can be taken directly from Beowulf. In one passage, the Beowulf poet described the churning ocean with the following line, streamus wundun sun with sanda, which is literally streams wound sound with sand. But it meant the sea currents were winding, the sound or sea was churning against the sand. So how did with go from meaning against or opposed to? To meaning together or beside? Well, it was the Vikings again. The Vikings had their own version of that word. The sense of the word in Old Norse focused on that sense of close proximity, which we still have in that phrase, go to war with someone. If you're against something or opposed to something, you often find yourself in conflict with it, and that means that you're in close proximity to it. So the Norse version acquired a sense of closeness and proximity, and that Norse meaning passed into Northern English. And over time, that Norse meaning spread throughout the island, and it became the modern meaning of the word. And it eventually replaced the word mid, which became more restricted to the sense of middle. So, as you can see, the Old English language was undergoing lots of changes. Under Norse influence, new words were coming in. Sometimes they supplemented English words and provided synonyms. Sometimes they came in and changed the meaning of native words. And again early on, most of that change was taking place in the North. Over the past few episodes, we focused on the new words which were coming in from Old Norse. But next time I'm going to look more closely at how the Norse influence was changing the grammar and syntax of English. Now, I haven't really discussed Old English grammar in any detail, so next time we'll delve into that topic a little bit. And the changes which were taking place are actually very fascinating because we can actually see early Modern English grammar start to emerge around this time in Northern England. So next time we'll look at how the Vikings beat up and battered the grammar of English. Until then, thanks for listening to the History of English podcast, Sa.