The activities of the Vikings were all-embracing, and before any attempt can be made to estimate their influence in the various countries which came permanently under their rule, or were brought more or less closely into touch with them, some account, however slight, must be given of Scandinavian civilisation at this time, both on its spiritual and on its material sides. For the former aspect we must turn chiefly to the poems and sagas of old Norse literature, for the latter to the results of modern archaeological research. So far as the poems and sagas are concerned it is well to remember that they were to a large extent composed in Iceland and reflect the somewhat peculiar type of civilisation developed there at a period just subsequent to the Viking age itself. This civilisation differs necessarily from that developed in Scandinavia or in the other Scandinavian settlements, in that it was free from Western influence, but this is to some extent compensated for by the fact that we get in Iceland a better picture of the inherent possibilities of Viking civilisation when developed on independent lines.

At the beginning of the Viking age the Scandinavian peoples were in a transitional stage of development; on the one hand there was still much, both in their theory and in their practice of life, that savoured of primitive barbarism, while on the other, in the development of certain phases of human activity, more especially in those of war, trade, and social organisation, they were considerably ahead of many of their European neighbours. More than one writer has commented upon the strange blending of barbarism and culture which constitutes Viking civilisation: it is evident when we study their daily life, and it is emphasised in the story of their slow and halting passage from heathenism to Christianity.

We need not travel far to find examples of their barbarism. Their cruelty in warfare is a commonplace among the historians of the period. When the Irish found the Danes cooking their food on spits stuck in the bodies of their fallen foes (v. supra, p. 55) and asked why they did anything so hateful, the answer came 'Why not? If the other side had been victorious they would have done the same with us.' The custom of cutting the blood-eagle (i.e. cutting the ribs in the shape of an eagle and pulling the lungs through the opening) was a well-known form of vengeance taken on the slayer of one's father if captured in battle, and is illustrated in the story of the sons of Ragnarr LoÐbrÓk himself. Another survival of primitive life was the famous Berserk fury, when men in the heat of battle were seized with sudden madness and, according to the popular belief, received a double portion of strength, and lost all sense of bodily pain, a custom for which Dr Bugge finds an apt parallel in the 'running amok' of the races of the Malay peninsula. Children were tossed on the point of the spear and the Viking leader who discouraged the custom was nicknamed barnakarl, i.e. children's friend.

In contrast to these methods of warfare stands their skill in fortification, in which they taught many lessons both to their English and to their Frankish adversaries, their readiness in adapting themselves to new conditions of warfare (v. supra, p. 46), and their clever strategy, whereby they again and again outwitted their opponents.

The same contrast meets us when we consider the position of women among them. The chroniclers make many references to their lust after women. We hear in an English chronicler how they combed their hair, indulged in sabbath baths, often changed their clothes and in various ways cultivated bodily beauty 'in order that they might the more readily overcome the chastity of the matrons, and make concubines even of the daughters of the nobility.' Wandering from country to country they often had wives in each, and polygamy would seem to have been the rule, at least among the leaders. In Ireland we hear of what seem to have been veritable harems, while in Russia we are told of the great grandson of Rurik, the founder of the Russian kingdom, that he had more than 800 concubines, though we may perhaps suspect the influence of Oriental custom in this case. Yet, side by side with all this, the legitimate wife was esteemed and honoured, and attained a position and took a part in national life which was quite unusual in those days. In the account of an Arabic embassy to the Vikings of the west (v. supra, p. 20) we have a vivid picture of the freedom of their married life. AuÐr, the widow of Olaf the White, after the fall of her son Thorstein, took charge of the fortunes of her family and is one of the figures that stand out most clearly in the early settlement of Iceland. We have only to turn to the Icelandic sagas to see before us a whole gallery of portraits, dark and fair alike, of women cast in heroic mould, while the stone at Dyrna in Hadeland, bearing the runic inscription, 'Gunvor, daughter of Thirek, built a bridge to commemorate her daughter Astrid, she was the most gracious maiden in Hadeland,' gives us one of the most attractive pictures of womanhood left to us from the Viking age. It must be added however that beside the runic inscription, the stone bears carvings of the Christ-child, the star in the east and the three kings, and this may serve to remind us that the age was one in which the peoples of the North passed from heathenism to Christianity, though the passage was a slow one and by no means complete even at the close of the period.

It is probable that the first real knowledge of 'the white Christ' came, as is so often the case, with the extension of trade—Frisians trading with Scandinavia, and Danes and Swedes settling in Frisia and elsewhere for the same purpose. St Willibrord at the beginning of the 8th century and Archbishop Ebbo of Rheims in 823, as papal legate among the northern peoples, undertook missions to Denmark, but it was in 826, when king Harold was baptised at Mainz, that the first real opportunity came for the preaching of Christianity in Denmark. Harold was accompanied on his return by St Anskar, a monk from Corvey and a man filled with religious zeal. After two years' mission in Denmark St Anskar sailed to Sweden, where he was graciously received at BjÖrkÖ by king BjÖrn. He made many converts and on his return home in 831 was made archbishop of Hamburg and given, jointly with Ebbo, jurisdiction over the whole of the northern realms. Hamburg was devastated in 845 and St Anskar was then appointed to the bishopric of Bremen, afterwards united to a restored archbishopric of Hamburg. He laboured in Denmark once more and established churches at SlesvÍk and Ribe. He conducted a second mission to Sweden and his missionary zeal remained unabated until his death in 865; his work was carried on by his successor and biographer St Rimbert and by many others. Their preaching was however confined to Jutland and South Sweden and there is no evidence of any popular movement towards Christianity. Gorm the Old was a steadfast pagan but Gorm's son Harold Bluetooth was a zealous promoter of Christianity. His enthusiasm may have been exaggerated by monastic chroniclers in contrast to the heathenism of his son Svein, but with the accession of Cnut all fears of a reversion to heathendom were at an end. Cnut was a devout son of the Church.

The first Danish settlers in England were entirely heathen in sentiment, but they were soon brought into close contact with Christianity, and the terms of the peace of Edward and Guthrum in the early years of the 10th century show that already Christianity was making its way in the Danelagh. In the course of this century both archbishoprics were held by men of Danish descent and the excesses of the early 11th century were due, not to the Danish settlers, but to the heathen followers of Olaf Tryggvason and Svein Forkbeard. Similarly the Danish settlers in Normandy were within a few years numbered among the Church's most enthusiastic supporters, and Rollo's own son and successor William was anxious to become a monk.

The story of the preaching of Christianity in Norway is a chequered one. The first attempt to establish the Christian faith was made by HÁkon AÐalsteinsfÓstri (v. supra, p. 36). Baptised and educated in England, he began warily, inducing those who were best beloved by him to become Christians, but he soon came into conflict with the more ardent followers of paganism. At the great autumn festival at Lade when the cups of memory were drunk, Earl Sigurd signed a cup to Odin, but the king made the sign of the cross over his cup. Earl Sigurd pacified popular clamour by saying that the king had made the sign of the hammer and consecrated the cup to Thor. The next day the king would not eat the horse-flesh used in their offerings nor drink the blood from it: the people were angry and the king compromised by inhaling the steam from the offering through a linen cloth placed over the sacrificial kettle, but no one was satisfied and at the next winter-feast the king had to eat some bits of horse-liver and to drink crossless all the cups of memory. HÁkon died a Christian but Eyvindr Skaldaspillir in HÁkonarmÁl describes how he was welcomed by Odin to Valhalla.

Earl HÁkon Sigurdson, nicknamed blÓt-jarl, i.e. sacrifice-earl, was a zealous heathen, but Olaf Tryggvason after his succession in 995 promoted the cause of Christianity by every means in his power, and it was largely to this that he owed his ultimate overthrow. Then, after a brief interval, the crown passed to St Olaf, greatest of all Christian champions in Norway, and during his reign that country became definitely Christian, though his rough and ready methods of conversion were hardly likely to secure anything but a purely formal and outward adhesion to the new faith.

Sweden was the most reluctant of the three northern realms to accept Christianity, and the country remained almost entirely heathen until the close of the Viking period.

The story of the Norse settlers in Ireland and the Western Islands in their relation to Christianity was very much that of the Danes in England. Celtic Christianity had a firm hold in these countries, and from the earliest period of the settlements many of the Vikings adopted the Christian faith. Among the settlers in Iceland who came from the West were many Christians, and AuÐr herself gave orders at her death that she should be buried on the sea-shore below the tide-mark, rather than lie in unhallowed ground. Most of the settlers undoubtedly remained heathen—in 996 a ring sacred to Thor was taken from a temple in Dublin and in 1000 king Brian destroyed a grove sacred to the same god just north of the city. But side by side with incidents of this kind must be placed others like that of the sparing of the churches, hospitals and almshouses when Armagh was sacked in 921, or the retirement of Anlaf Cuaran to the monastery at Iona in 981. In Ireland as elsewhere there seems to have been a recrudescence of heathenism in the early years of the 11th century and the great fight at Clontarf was regarded as a struggle between pagan and Christian.

Outwardly the Scandinavian world had largely declared its adhesion to Christianity by the close of the Viking period, but we must remember that the medieval Church was satisfied if her converts passed through the ceremony of baptism and observed her rites, though their sentiments often remained heathen. Except in purely formal fashion it is impossible to draw a definite line of demarcation between Christian and heathen, and the acceptance of Christianity is of importance not so much from any change of outlook which it produced in individuals, as because it brought the peoples of the North into closer touch with the general life and culture of medieval Europe. Leaders freely accepted baptism—often more than once—and even confirmation as part of a diplomatic bargain, while their profession of Christianity made no difference to their Viking way of life. Even on formal lines the Church had to admit of compromise, as for example in the practice of prime-signing, whereby when Vikings visited Christian lands as traders, or entered the service of Christian kings for payment, they often allowed themselves to be signed with the cross, which secured their admission to intercourse with Christian communities, but left them free to hold the faith which pleased them best.

Strange forms and mixtures of belief arose in the passage from one faith to the other. Helgi the Lean was a Christian, but called on Thor in the hour of need. The Christian saints with their wonder-working powers were readily adopted into the Norse Pantheon, and Vikings by their prayers and offerings secured the help of St Patrick in Ireland and of St Germanus in France in times of defeat and pestilence, while we hear of a family of settlers in Iceland who gave up all faith except a belief in the power of St Columba. On sculptured stones in the west may be found pictures of RagnarÖk, of Balder and of Loki together with the sign of the cross. Some of the heathen myths themselves show Christian influence; the Balder story with its echoes of the lamentations for the suffering Christ belongs to the last stage of Norse heathendom, while a heathen skald makes Christ sit by the Fountain of Fate as the mighty destroyer of the giants. When the virtue had gone out of their old beliefs many fell a prey to the grossest superstition, worshipping the rocks and groves and rivers once thought to be the dwelling place of the gods. Others renounced faith in Christian and heathen gods alike, and the nickname 'godless' is by no means rare among the settlers in Iceland. Of such it is often said that they believed in themselves, or had no faith in aught except their own strength and power, while in the saga of FriÞjof we hear how the hero paid little heed to the sanctity of the temple of Balder and that the love of Ingibjorg meant more to him than the wrath of the gods. For a parallel to such audacious scepticism as that of FriÞjof we must turn to southern lands and later times with Aucassin's 'In Paradise what have I to win? Therein I seek not to enter, but only to have my Nicolete, my sweet lady that I love so well.' For some the way of escape came not by superstition or by scepticism, but in mystic speculation, in pure worship of the powers of nature. Thus we hear of the Icelander Thorkell Mani, whom all praised for the excellence of his way of life, that in his last illness he was carried out into the sunshine, so that he might commend himself into the hands of the god who made the sun, or of the goÐi Askell who, even in the hour of famine, deemed it was more fitting to honour the creator by caring for the aged and the children, than to relieve distress by putting these helpless ones to death.

One other illustration of the declining force of heathenism must be mentioned. It is to the Viking age that we owe the poems of the older Edda, that storehouse of Norse mythology and cosmogony. They are almost purely heathen in sentiment, and yet one feels that it could only be in an age when belief in the old gods was passing away that the authors of these poems could have struck those notes of detachment, irony, and even of burlesque, which characterise so many of them.

The condition of faith and belief in the Viking age was, then, chaotic, but, fortunately for purposes of clear statement, there was, to the Norse mind at least, no necessary connexion between beliefs and morality, between faith and conduct, and the ideas on which they based their philosophy and practice of life are fairly distinct.

The central ideas which dominate the Norse view of life are an ever-present sense of the passingness of all things and a deep consciousness of the over-ruling power of Fate. All earthly things are transitory and the one thing which lasts is good fame. 'Wealth dies, kinsmen die, man himself must die, but the fame which a man wins rightly for himself never dies; one thing I know that never dies, the judgment passed on every man that dies,' says the poet of the HÁvamÁl, the great storehouse of the gnomic wisdom of the Norsemen. 'All things are unstable and transitory, let no man therefore be arrogant or over-confident. The wise man will never praise the day before it is evening.' Prudence and foresight are ever necessary. All things are determined by a fate which is irrevocable and cannot be avoided. Every man must die the death that is appointed for him, and the man whose final day has not yet come may face unmoved the greatest danger. This sense of an inevitable fate must lead to no weakening of character or weariness of life. Death must be faced with cheerful stoicism and our judgment of the worth of any man must depend on the way in which he awaits the decree of fate. Place no great trust in others whether friend or foe, least of all place trust in women. 'Wommennes conseils been ful ofte colde,' says Chaucer in the Nun's Priest's Tale, using an old Scandinavian proverb. 'Be friendly to your friends and a foeman to your foes. Practice hospitality and hate lying and untruthfulness.' With their enemies the Vikings had an evil reputation for cunning and deceit, but when we study the incidents on which this charge was based—as for example the story of the capture of Luna (v. supra, p. 47) or the oft-repeated trick of feigning flight, only to lure the enemy away from safe ground—one must confess that they show an enemy outwitted rather than deceived. This aspect of Viking character perhaps finds its best illustration in the figure of Odin. His common epithets are 'the wise,' 'the prudent,' 'the sagacious'; he is a god of witchcraft and knows all the secret powers of nature and stands in contrast to the simple-minded Thor, endowed with mighty strength, but less polished and refined. The development of the worship of Odin in Norway belongs specially to the later Iron Age, and it is worthy of note that his worship seems to have prevailed chiefly in military circles, among princes and their retainers.

The Vikings were guilty of two besetting sins—immoderate love of wine and of women. Of their relations to women enough has been said already. Their drunken revelry is best illustrated by the story of the orgie which led up to the death of St Alphege in London in 1012, when, after drinking their fill of the wine they had brought from abroad, they pelted the bishop with bones from the feast, and finally pierced his skull with the spike on the back of an axe. Of sin in the Christian sense the Vikings had no conception. An Irish chronicler tells us indeed that the Danes have a certain piety in that they can refrain from flesh and from women for a time, but a truer description is probably that given by Adam of Bremen when he says that the Danes can weep neither for their sins nor for their dead.

The chief occupations of the Vikings were trade and war, but we must beware of drawing a too rigid distinction between adventurers and peaceful stay-at-homes. The Vikings when they settled in England and elsewhere showed that their previous roving life did not hinder them in the least from settling down as peaceful traders, farmers, or peasant-labourers, while the figure of Ohthere or Óttarr, to give him his Norse name, who entered the service of king Alfred, may serve to remind us that many a landed gentleman was not above carrying on a good trade with the Finns or undertaking voyages of exploration in the White Sea.

Trading in those days was a matter of great difficulty and many risks. The line of division between merchant and Viking was a very thin one, and more than once we read how, when merchants went on a trading expedition, they arranged a truce until their business was concluded and then treated each other as enemies. Trade in Scandinavia was carried on either in fixed centres or in periodical markets held in convenient places. The chief trading centres were the twin towns of SlesvÍk-Hedeby in Denmark, Skiringssalr in S.W. Norway, and BjÖrkÖ, Sigtuna and the island of Gothland in Sweden, while an important market was held periodically at BohuslÄn on the GÖtaelv, at a place were the boundaries of the three northern kingdoms met. A characteristic incident which happened at this market illustrates the international character of the trade done there. On a certain occasion a wealthy merchant named Gille (the name is Celtic), surnamed the Russian because of his many journeys to that country, set up his booth in the market and received a visit from the Icelander HÖskuldr who was anxious to buy a female slave. Gille drew back a curtain dividing off the inner part of the tent and showed HÖskuldr twelve female slaves. HÖskuldr bought one and she proved to be an Irish king's daughter who had been made captive by Viking raiders.

The chief exports were furs, horses, wool, and fish while the imports consisted chiefly in articles of luxury, whether for clothing or ornament. There was an extensive trade with the Orient in all such luxuries and the Vikings seem eagerly to have accumulated wealth of this kind. When Limerick was re-captured by the Irish in 968, they carried off from the Vikings 'their jewels and their best property, and their saddles beautiful and foreign (probably of Spanish workmanship), their gold and their silver: their beautifully woven cloth of all colours and all kinds: their satins and silken cloths, pleasing and variegated, both scarlet and green, and all sorts of cloth in like manner.' They captured too 'their soft, youthful, bright, matchless girls: their blooming silk-clad young women: and their active, large, and well formed boys.' Such captives whether made by Irish from Norsemen or Norsemen from Irish would certainly be sold as slaves, for one of the chief branches of trade in those days was the sale as slaves of those made prisoner in war.

The expansion of Scandinavian trade took place side by side with, rather than as a result of, Viking activity in war. There is evidence of the presence of traders in the Low Country early in the 9th century, and already in the days of St Anskar we hear of a Swedish widow of BjÖrkÖ who left money for her daughter to distribute among the poor of Duurstede. JÓmsborg was established to protect and increase Scandinavian trade at Julin, and there were other similar trading centres on the southern and eastern shores of the Baltic.

The Viking might busy himself either with war or trade, but whatever his occupation, living as he did in insular or peninsular lands, good ships and good seamanship were essential to his livelihood. Seamen now often abandoned that timid hugging of the coast, sailing only by day time and in fair weather, which characterised the old Phoenician traders, and boldly sailed across the uncharted main with no help save that of the sun and stars by which to steer their course. It was this boldness of spirit alone which enabled them to reach the lonely Faroes, the distant Shetlands and Orkneys, and the yet more remote Iceland. Irish monks and anchorites had shown similar fearlessness, but their bravery was often that of the fanatic and the mystic rather than the enterprise of the seaman. Boldness of seamanship led to boldness in exploration. From Iceland the Vikings sailed to Greenland, and by the year 1000 had discovered Vinland, the N.E. part of North America. Ottarr rounded the North Cape and sailed the White Sea in the 9th century, while Harold Hardrada in the 11th century made a voyage of Polar exploration.

Of their ships we know a good deal both from the sagas and from the remains of actual ships preserved to us. The custom of ship-burial, i.e. burial in a ship over which a grave chamber, covered with a how or mound, was erected, was common in the Viking age, and several such ships have been discovered. The two most famous are those of Gokstad and Oseberg, both found on the shores of Christiania Fjord. The Gokstad vessel is of oak, clinker-built, with seats for sixteen pairs of rowers, and is 28 ft. long and 16 ft. broad amidships. It dates from about 900, and in form and workmanship is not surpassed by modern vessels of a similar kind. There is a mast for a single sail, and the rudder, as always in those days, is on the starboard side. The gunwale was decorated with a series of shields painted alternately black and gold. The appearance of the vessel when fully equipped can perhaps best be judged from the pictures of Viking ships to be seen in the Bayeux tapestry. There we may note the parti-coloured sail with its variegated stripes, and the rich carving of stem and stern. These magnificent sails were a source of much pride to their possessors, and the story is told of Sigurd Jerusalem-farer that on his way home from Jerusalem to Constantinople he lay for half-a-month off Cape Malea, waiting for a side wind, so that his sails might be set lengthwise along the ship and so be better seen by those standing on shore as he sailed up to Constantinople. The stem often ended in a dragon's head done over with gold, whilst the stern was frequently shaped like a dragon's tail, so that the vessel itself was often called a dragon.

The Oseberg ship is of a different type. The gunwale is lower and the whole vessel is flatter and broader. It is used as the grave-chamber of a woman, and the whole appearance of the vessel, including its richly carved stem, indicates that it was used in calm waters for peaceful purposes.

The story of the escape of HÁrek of Thjotta through Copenhagen Sound after the battle of HelgeÄa in 1018 illustrates the difference between a trading-ship and a ship of war. HÁrek struck sail and mast, took down the vane, stretched a grey tent-cloth over the ship's sides, and left only a few rowers fore and aft. The rest of the crew were bidden lie flat so that they might not be seen, with the result that the Danes mistook HÁrek's war-galley for a trading-vessel laden with herrings or salt and let it pass unchallenged.

In the last years of the Viking period ships increased greatly both in size and number. Olaf Tryggvason's vessel, the Long Serpent, in which he fought his last fight at Svoldr, had thirty benches of oars, while Cnut the Great had one with sixty pairs of oars. This same king went with a fleet of some fourteen hundred vessels to the conquest of Norway.

In battle the weapons of defence were helmet, corselet and shield. The shields were of wood with a heavy iron boss in the centre. The corselets were made of iron rings, leather, or thick cloth. The weapons of offence were mainly sword, spear and battle-axe. The sword was of the two-edged type and usually had a shallow depression along the middle of the blade, known as the blood-channel. Above, the blade terminated in a narrow tang, bounded at either end by the hilts. Round the tang and between the hilts was the handle of wood, horn, or some similar material, often covered with leather, or occasionally with metal. Above the upper hilt was a knob, which gave the sword the necessary balance for a good steady blow. Generally the knob and the hilts were inlaid with silver, bronze, or copper-work. The battle-axe, the most characteristic of Viking weapons, was of the heavy broad-bladed type.

Next to warfare and trade, the chief occupation of the Viking was farming, while his chief amusement was the chase. At home the Viking leader lived the life of an active country gentleman. His favourite sport was hawking, and one of the legendary lives of St Edmund tells how Ragnarr LoÐbrÓk himself was driven by stress of storm to land on the East Anglian coast, receiving a hospitable welcome from the king, but ultimately meeting death at the hands of the king's huntsman who was jealous of his prowess as a fowler.

Of the social organisation of the Vikings it is impossible to form a very definite or precise picture. We have in the laws of the JÓmsborg settlement (v. supra, p. 71) the rule of life of a warrior-community, but it would be a mistake to imagine that these laws prevailed in all settlements alike. The general structure of their society was aristocratic rather than democratic, but within the aristocracy, which was primarily a military one, the principle of equality prevailed. When asked who was their lord, Rollo's men answered 'We have no lord, we are all equal.' But while they admitted no lord, the Vikings were essentially practical; they realised the importance of organised leadership, and we have a succession of able leaders mentioned in the annals of the time, to some of whom the title king was given. These kings however are too numerous, and too many of them are mentioned together, for it to be possible to give the term king in this connexion anything like its usual connotation. It would seem rather to have been used for any prince of the royal house, and it was only when the Vikings had formed fixed settlements and come definitely under Western influence that we hear of kings in the ordinary territorial sense—kings of Northumbria, Dublin, Man and the Isles, or East Anglia. We hear also of jarls or earls, either as Viking leaders or as definite territorial rulers, as for example the Orkney-earls and more than one earl who is mentioned as ruling in Dublin, but these earls usually held their lands under the authority of a king. By the side of kings and earls mention is made both in the Danelagh and also in the Western Islands of lawmen. It is difficult exactly to define their position and function. Originally these men were simply experts in the law who expounded it in the popular thing or assembly, and were the spokesmen of the people as against the king and the court, but sometimes they assumed judicial functions, acting for example in Sweden as assessors to the king, who was supreme judge.

In their home life we find the same strange mixture of civilisation and barbarism which marks them elsewhere. Their houses were built of timber, covered with clay. There was no proper hearth and the smoke from the fire made its way out as best it could through the turf-covered roof. The chief furniture of the room consisted in beds, benches, long tables and chests, and in the houses of the rich these would at the close of our period often be carved with stories from the old heroic or mythologic legends, while the walls might be covered with tapestry. Prominent in the chieftain's hall stood the carved pillars which supported his high-seat and were considered sacred. When some of the settlers first sailed to Iceland they threw overboard their high-seat pillars which they had brought with them, and chose as the site of their new abode the place where these pillars were cast ashore.

In clothing and adornment there can be no question that our Viking forefathers had attained a high standard of luxury. Any visitor to the great national museums at Copenhagen, Stockholm or Christiania must be impressed by the wealth of personal ornaments displayed before him: magnificent brooches of silver and bronze, arm-rings and neck-rings of gold and silver, large beads of silver, glass, rock-crystal, amber and cornelian. At one time it was commonly assumed that these ornaments, often displaying the highest artistic skill, were simply plunder taken by the Vikings from nations more cultured and artistic than themselves, but patient investigation has shown that the majority of them were wrought in Scandinavia itself.

The most characteristic of Viking ornaments is undoubtedly the brooch. It was usually oval in shape and the concave surface was covered with a framework of knobs and connecting bands, which divided it into a series of 'fields' (to use a heraldic term), which could themselves be decorated with the characteristic ornamentation of the period. The commonest form of oval brooch was that with nine knobs on a single plate, but in the later examples the plate is often doubled. The brooches themselves were of bronze, the knobs usually of silver with silver wire along the edge of the brooch. These knobs have now often disappeared and the bronze has become dull with verdigris, so that it is difficult to form an idea of their original magnificence. The oval brooches were used to fasten the outer mantle and were usually worn in pairs, either on the breast or on the shoulders, and examples of them have been found from Russia in the East to Ireland on the West. Other types of brooch are also found—straight-armed, trilobed and round. Such brooches were often worn in the middle of the bosom a little below the oval ones. Other ornaments beside brooches are common—arm-rings, neck-rings, pendants. One of the most interesting of the pendants is a ring with a series of small silver Thor's hammers which was probably used as a charm against ill-luck. All these ornaments alike are in silver rather than gold, and it has been said that if the post-Roman period of Scandinavian archaeology be called the age of Gold, the Viking period should be named the age of Silver.

The style of ornamentation used in these articles of personal adornment as well as in objects of more general use, such as horse-trappings, is that commonly known to German archaeologists as tier-ornamentik, i.e. animal or zoomorphic ornamentation. This last translation may sound pedantic but it is the most accurate description of the style, for we have no attempt to represent the full form of any animal that ever had actual existence; rather we find the various limbs of animals—heads, legs, tails—woven into one another in fantastic design in order to cover a certain surface-area which requires decoration. 'The animals are ornaments and treated as such. They are stretched and curved, lengthened and shortened, refashioned, and remodelled just as the space which they must fill requires.' This style was once called the 'dragon-style,' but the term is misleading as there is no example belonging to the Viking period proper of any attempt to represent a dragon, i.e. some fantastic animal with wings. Such creatures belong to a later period.

The zoomorphic style did not have its origin during the Viking period. It is based on that of a preceding period in the culture of the North German peoples, but it received certain characteristic developments at this time, more especially under the influence of Irish and Frankish art. Irish art had begun to influence that of Scandinavia even before the Viking period began, and the development of intercourse between North and West greatly strengthened that influence. To Frankish influence were due not only certain developments of tier-ornamentik but also the use of figures from the plant-world for decorative purposes. One of the finest brooches preserved to us from this period is of Frankish workmanship—a magnificent trilobed brooch of gold with acanthus-leaf ornamentation. This leaf-work was often imitated by Scandinavian craftsmen but the imitation is usually rude and unconvincing. Traces are also to be found of Oriental and more especially of Arabic influence in certain forms of silver-ornamentation, but finds of articles of actual Eastern manufacture are more common than finds of articles of Scandinavian origin showing Eastern influences in their workmanship.

Buried treasure from the Viking period is very common. It was a popular belief, sanctioned by the express statement of Odin, that a man would enjoy in Valhalla whatsoever he had himself buried in the earth. Another common motive in the burial of treasure was doubtless the desire to find a place of security against robbery and plunder. Treasure thus secreted would often be lost sight of at the owner's death. To the burial-customs of the Viking period also we owe much of our knowledge of their weapons, clothing, ornaments and even of their domestic utensils.

The dead were as a rule cremated, at least during the earlier part of the Viking period. The body burned or unburned was either buried in a mound of earth, forming a 'how,' or was laid under the surface of the ground, and the grave marked by stones arranged in a circle, square, triangle or oval, sometimes even imitating the outlines of a ship. The 'hows' were often of huge size. The largest of the three 'King's hows' at Old Upsala is 30 ft. high and 200 ft. broad. A large how was very necessary in the well-known ship-burial when the dead man (or woman) was placed in a grave-chamber on board his ship and the ship was drawn on land and buried within a how. Men and women alike were buried in full dress, and the men usually have all their weapons with them. In the latter case weapons tend to take the place of articles of domestic use such as are found in the graves of an earlier period, and the change points to a new conception of the future life. It is now a life in which warriors feast with Odin in Valhalla on benches that are covered with corselets. A careful examination of Norwegian graves has proved fairly definitely the existence of the custom of 'suttee' during the Viking period, and the evidence of the Arab historian Ibn Fadhlan seems to show that the same custom prevailed among the RÛs. Horses, dogs, hawks and other animals were often buried with their masters, and the remains of such, burned or unburned, have frequently been found.

The varying customs attending burial are happily illustrated in the two accounts preserved to us of the burial of king Harold Hyldetan, who died c. 750. The accounts were written down long after the actual event, but they probably give us a good picture of familiar incidents in burial ceremonies of the Viking period.

One account (in a late saga) tells how, on the morrow of the great fight at Bravalla, king Ring caused search to be made for the body of his kinsman Harold. When the body was found, it was washed and placed in the chariot which Harold used in the fight. A large mound was raised and the chariot was drawn into the mound by Harold's own horse. The horse was now killed and Ring gave his own saddle to Harold, telling him that he might ride or drive to Valhalla just as it pleased him best. A great memorial feast was held, and Ring bade his warriors and nobles throw into the mound large rings of gold and silver and good weapons before it was finally closed.

The other account (in Saxo) tells how Ring harnessed his own horse to Harold's chariot and bade him drive quickly to Valhalla as the best in battle, and when he came to Odin to prepare goodly quarters for friend and foe alike. The pyre was then kindled and by Ring's command the Danes placed Harold's ship upon it. When the fire destroyed the body, the king commanded his followers to walk round the pyre and chant a lament, making rich offerings of weapons, gold and treasure, so that the fire might mount the higher in honour of the great king. So the body was burned, the ashes were collected, laid in an urn and sent to Leire, there to be buried with the horse and the weapons in royal fashion.

There are many curious coincidences of detail between these accounts and that given by Ibn Fadhlan of the burial of a RÛs warrior, and every detail of them has at one time or another been confirmed by archaeological evidence.

The dead were commemorated by the how itself, but bautasteinar, i.e. memorial stones, were also erected, either on the how or, more commonly, elsewhere. In course of time these monuments came to be inscribed with runes. Usually the inscription is of the most formal type, giving the name of the dead person, the name of the man who raised the memorial, and sometimes also that of the man who carved the runes. Occasionally there is some more human touch as in the wording of the Dyrna runes (v. supra, p. 85), and in the latter part of the Viking period we often find pictures and even scenes inscribed on the stones. This is true of the Dyrna stone (v. supra, p. 86): the Jellinge stone has a figure of Christ on it, while there is a famous rock-inscription in Sweden representing scenes from the Sigurd-story (Regin's smithy, hammer, tongs and bellows, Sigurd piercing Fafnir with his sword, the birds whose speech Sigurd understood) encircled by a serpent (Fafnir) bearing a long runic inscription. The runic alphabet itself was the invention of an earlier age. It is based chiefly on the old Roman alphabet with such modifications of form and symbol as were necessitated by the different sounds in the Teutonic tongues and by the use of such unyielding materials as wood and stone. Straight lines were preferred to curved ones and sloping to horizontal. During the Viking period it was simplified, and runic inscriptions are found from the valley of the Dnieper on the east to Man in the west, and from Iceland on the north to the Piraeus in the south.