4. Individual Texts, Authors, Genres

Henry Larsen, as we have seen, deals briefly with “The Dream of the Rood” in his study of Christ’s Harrowing of Hell, and in it he hears a strong echo from the Norse myth of Balder, also the son of a god (Odin), also unjustly killed, also mourned by all creation. Along with Frederik Hammerich, he believes that no poet has ever depicted the crucifixion as well as the poet of “The Dream of the Rood” has. The conflict between Christianity and paganism and its resolution – a powerful, warrior-like Christ – first emerges here in an image that the Goths loved.4 Krist og Satan, pp. 176–77.

“The Dream of the Rood” profoundly moved Arthur Olav Sandved (1931–2021) as well. In his first excursion into OE studies, he writes about “The Dream of the Rood”5 Sandved, “Drømmen om Kristi Kors.” in order to answer Alcuin’s famous question to the monks at Lindisfarne, “Quid Hinieldus cum Christo?” (What has Ingeld to do with Christ?), and to introduce his fellow Norwegians to some remarkable poetry of unusually high quality.6 Ibid., p. 209. If the converted Anglo-Saxons, he argues, wanted to compose poems about Christian themes, they had only a pre-Christian literary apparatus to do so. A praise poem for Christ had to be based on the same literary techniques used to praise Ingeld – had to be a synthesis of pre-Christian form and Christian content – and Sandved explains those techniques in some detail.7 Ibid., pp. 203–06. “The Dream of the Rood,” which he translates into rhythmic, alliterative, Norwegian prose at the end of the article,8 Ibid., pp. 209–12. came to be during the period after the finding of the true cross in Rome in 701, when the adoratio crucis (adoration of the Cross) tradition became popular in the Good Friday liturgy of the Catholic Church.9 Ibid., pp. 207–08.

Like Larsen and Sandved, Jan Henrik Schumacher (1947–) is profoundly moved by the poem. Associate Professor of Church History in the Norwegian Lutheran School of Theology (1987–) in Oslo and an ordained minister in the Church of Norway,10 Anon., “Jan Henrik Schumacher.” Schumacher takes particular interest in the spirituality or mentality expressed in “The Dream of the Rood,”11 “Drømmen om korset – og angelsaksisk spiritualitet.” one of two visions of the Cross from the English Middle Ages, the other being Julian of Norwich’s in her Revelations of Divine Love.12 Ibid., p. 73. One striking feature of the poem’s Anglo-Saxon spirituality is that Christ never speaks, but the Cross does, and that the Cross, not Christ, is in the heart of the believer. The Cross bleeds, shakes, suffers, is buried and rises again, and at the end of the poem, it has even taken on Christ’s role as judge of the living and the dead at the Second Coming. Beyond a symbol for Christ, the Cross becomes an embodiment of Him, as it both evangelizes and preaches about the events of Good Friday.13 Ibid., p. 75.

The poem, which seems to have developed into its present form sometime between the first half of the eighth century and the second half of the tenth, retains aspects of the history of Anglo-Saxon spirituality through which it has moved. Christ’s being depicted as a powerful Germanic warrior reflects the earliest part of that history, when the traditional image of a mild and merciful Christ would not have been well received.14 Ibid., p. 77. And the poem’s fixation on the Cross as an object of veneration fits into a later meditative tradition, as described by Mary Carruthers. The Cross is “a good place (topos) of focus for those who wanted a rich supply of associations that could be re-worked in meditation,”15 “et godt sted (topos) å stille seg for den som ønsket et rikt tilfang av assosiasjoner som kunne bearbeides i meditasjonen.” Ibid., p. 78. associations from, for example, Venantius Fortunatus, the OE Elene, Egeria, and Pope Sergius I, where we also find the Cross magnificently adorned.16 Ibid., pp. 79–80. We hear echoes of scripture, such as Luke 23:31, as well, and see in the Cross a transformation from a gallows to “the victory tree” (sigebeam)17 Ibid., p. 81. and to a warrior in his lord’s Germanic warband.18 Ibid., p. 82. Heroic diction undergoes a transformation as well, from pagan to Christian. Christ is described as frea (lord), dryhten (lord), beorn (warrior), ricne kyning (mighty king), heofona hlaford (lord of the heavens), and sigora wealdend (ruler of victories) as the traditional, pagan lexicon is turned to a Christian purpose.19 Ibid., pp. 82–83.

“The Dream of the Rood” is an important witness to the history of Anglo-Saxon spirituality, not just in its conjoining of native Anglo-Saxon poetic praxis with Christian content, but also in the context of how Good Friday was celebrated in the Anglo-Saxon Church.

The items touching on “The Battle of Brunanburh” do not actually deal with the poem directly at all. In a 1911 note, the Icelandic minister and historian Jón Jónsson (1849–1920) of Stafafelli21 Anon., “Jón Jónsson.” seeks to identify the place of the battle (Vínheiðr in the ON Egilssaga) with Uinuaed near Leeds rather than with Weondune, where Simeon of Durham locates it.22 Jónsson, “Uinuaed=vínheiðr.” And Per Wieselgren (1900–89), Professor of Swedish Language and Literature at the University of Tartu in Estonia from 1930 to 1941,23 Anon., “Per Wieselgren.” in two items from 1927 and 1929 discusses the likenesses between the OE poem and chapters 52 to 55 of Egilssaga and uses the date of the battle, 937, and Athelstan’s victory in it to argue that Erik Bloodaxe could not have reigned in Northumberland before then.24 Wieselgren, Författarskapet till Eigla, pp. 78–84, and “Tideräkningsfrågan i norsk niohundratalshistoria,” pp. 36, 46–48.

“Widsith” and “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan,” too, have been more the object of historical than literary inquiry. Richard Constant Boer (1863–1929), a Dutch linguist who specialized in ON language and literature,25 Anon., “Boer, R. C.” uses “Widsith” in several places in his extensive study of the layered development of the Hervararsaga to validate particular readings of the complex saga.26 “Om Hervararsaga,” pp. 39–44, 46 55, 58, 61, 65, and 69. Johannes C. H. R. Steenstrup (1844–1935), Professor of History at the University of Copenhagen (1882–1917), takes note of the seventy peoples listed in “Widsith,” among whom as a late addition to the text are the Vikings (mid Lidwicingum ic wæs, “with the Lidvikings I was”; ic wæs mid wicingum, “I was with the Vikings”). There can be no doubt, he states, that by “Vikings” is meant Nordic sea warriors.27 “Nogle Studier fra Vikingetiden,” p. 157. And Frands Herschend (1948–), Professor Emeritus of Archaeology and Ancient History at Uppsala University,28 Anon., “Frands Herschend.” discusses in a 1997 article the relationship among the Finnsburg Fragment, the Finnsburg episode in Beowulf, and “Widsith,” finding that the first catalogue in “Widsith” is the intermediary text between the fragment and the episode where the poet uses it to specify a cultural setting as well as a time of about 500 CE.29 Herschend, “Striden i Finnsborg,” pp. 327–28, 332.

Another Danish scholar, Gudmund Schütte (1872–1958), devotes even more attention to “Widsith.” A gifted philologist who lectured at the University of Copenhagen 1909–13 and subsequently at the universities of Berlin and Aarhus before becoming financially independent, Schütte was not affiliated with any university after 1915. He instead devoted himself entirely to his research. He had command of several languages, ancient and modern, and published widely in both scholarly and popular venues, such as newspapers and magazines.30 Larsen and Kristensen, “Gudmund Schütte.” His doctoral dissertation from 1907 is a remarkable scholarly achievement. The purpose of “Oldsagn om Godtjod: bidrag til etnisk Kildeforsknings metode med særligt henblik på folk-stamsagn” (Ancient Legends of the Gothonic [or Germanic] Nations: A Contribution to Ethnic Source Research Methods with Particular Reference to Folk Legends) is to:

The work consists of an introduction (pp. 1–12) and five chapters, the first (pp. 13–32) being a literature review of those few scholars who preceded Schütte in the field and the second (pp. 33–51) being an expression of the author’s views on points of disagreement among his predecessors, one group of which denies any precise sense of history or geography in ancient texts and one of which affirms it. Chapter 3 (pp. 52–93) focuses on all the factors bearing upon the transmission of texts, including the time and place of composition, but confines itself to individuals or classes of people in its study of tribal or national origins. Chapter 4 (pp. 94–117), which is arguably the most important chapter in the book, deals with the function and structure of catalogue poems and their recurring features. And chapter 5 (pp. 118–97) offers a review of the different classes of ethnological texts such as tribal legends, folk-wandering legends, warfare legends, and other legendary lists.

Chapter 4, however, deserves closer scrutiny, because in it Schütte formulates an important law, the law of initial and terminal stress in the catalogue poems or name lists that appear so frequently in old Germanic literature. The world-renowned folklorist Axel Olrik (1864–1917), to whom Schütte dedicated his dissertation, and who was one of two reviewers of Schütte’s book, succinctly formulates the law thus:

In the years after publishing his dissertation, Schütte published two more articles that mention “Widsith.” He alludes to the poem twice in his study of “tendentious” poetry or poetry that displays a bias in heroic legend,34 “Tendensdigtning,” pp. 148 and 156. and he returns to the nature of the catalogue poem in his 1920 study of “Widsith” and the genealogies of Hengest and Angantyr. But first in footnote 1 on p. 2 and later in footnote 1 on pp. 11–12, he expresses his annoyance and frustration over the fact that his “law” has not been recognized as his but instead has become known as the “Epic Laws of Folk Narrative” in England, Germany, and Sweden and attributed to Axel Olrik. This happened because Olrik published an article of that title on the subject in DS (1908) that subsequently appeared in Olrik’s shorter German version and was also translated into English.35 I have not yet found the English translation Schütte refers to, but an English translation by Steager of the German version of the article appeared in 1965 as “Epic Laws of Folk Narrative.” Because, Schütte asserts, the law is the only part of his work that has gained recognition outside his native Denmark, he “cannot tacitly agree that [it] should be handed over to Olrik as a matter of course.”36 “kan jeg ikke stiltiende find mig i, at de uden videre foræres til Olrik.” “Vidsid og Slægtssagnene,” p. 2, note 1. Despite Schütte’s protestations, however, Olrik is still considered the formulator of the laws. Niels Ingwersen, for example, begins his article on Olrik for The Oxford Companion to Fairy Tales, second edition, by stating that Olrik’s “international claim to fame rests mainly on the article ‘Episke love i folkedigtningen’ (‘Epic Laws of Folk Narrative’).”37 Ingwersen, “Axel Olrik.”

In his article on “Widsith,” however, Schütte continues his study of the poem that he started in his dissertation, this time examining a number of items that have “Widsith” as a common starting point: a series of English royal pedigrees, Snorri’s lists of sea kings, Bragi’s “Ragnarsdrápa,” “Hyndluljóð,” “Kálfsvísa,” “The Battle of Bråvalla,” Hervarar saga, Örvar-Odds saga, Fridleifs saga, and “Völuspá.”38 “Vidsid og Slægtssagnene,” p. 3. These items did not appear individually or independently of each other, which Schütte demonstrates by focusing on the genealogies of Hengest and Angantyr. Hengest appears in “The Finnsburg Fragment” and the Finnsburg episode in Beowulf and has commonly been accepted as the Danish figure from Jutland and subsequently Kent after taking a prominent part in what some call “the English Conquest.” Comparison of his appearance in “Widsith” with his appearance in Nennius and other texts leaves us with no doubt that the identification of Hengest as a Dane and a Jute is correct.39 Ibid., pp. 5–8. A comparison of “Widsith” with the remaining texts listed above allows us to see five stages of development of the catalogue poem ending with the legend of Angantyr and his brothers in Hervarar saga and Örvar-Odds saga.40 Ibid., pp. 13–23. Schütte devotes the rest of his paper to the nationality of Angantyr. He asks if the name refers to one person or several and whether or not the Ongenþeow mentioned in “Widsith” is in fact Angantyr.41 Ibid., p. 24. Evidence from Icelandic, Norwegian, and AS sources and a Danish popular ballad confirms that they are the same person.42 Ibid., pp. 26–28. “Just as in the question of the ‘Danish’ and Jutlandic Hengest, there seems to be no reason whatsoever to reject the present consensus in the saga tradition: the Swedish king Ongenþeow’s identification with the berserker Angantyr in Bolm [on the south-west border with Denmark] must henceforth be considered a fact.”43 “ligesom i Spørgsmaalet om den ‘danske’ og den jyske Hengest viser der sig ikke at være nogensomhelst Grund til at vrage den i Sagnoverleveringen foreliggende Samtydning: Sveakongen Ongenþeovs Enhed med Berserken Angantyr i Bolm maa herefter regnes for en Kendsgærning.” Ibid., p. 31.

The Swede Karl Fritiof Sundén (1868–1945) and the Icelander Stefán Einarsson (1897–1972) are the most recent Scandinavian scholars to turn their attention to “Widsith.” Trained in both the Germanic and Romance languages, Sundén was Professor of English Language and Literature at the University of Gothenburg from 1913 to 1935. He displayed an early interest in linguistic and grammatical issues,44 See, e.g., his Essay I. The predicational categories in English; and Essay II. A category of predicational change in English. and he was a great friend of Germany, even showing some sympathy for or understanding of Nazism.45 Tjerneld, “Sundén släkt.” He views “Widsith” as the premier example of a catalogue poem, and suggests it has two purposes: to offer three lists containing historical, ethnographic, or heroic material and to showcase the court poet’s art and achievement by means of a frame narrative.46 Den fornengelska dikten Widsið, p. 4. The poem consists of two main sections: “Widsith A” (lines 1–49) consists of an introduction (lines 1–9) and then Widsith’s presenting the first thule or list, this one of princes and the people they ruled. “Widsith B” (lines 50–130) consists of the greatest part of the frame narrative and contains the other two thules, one listing the mainly Germanic tribes Widsith has visited and one listing heroes in Eormanric’s army.47 Ibid., pp. 6–7. The poem ends with a reflection on the poet’s high calling in the world, for which he earns enduring praise.48 Ibid., p. 8. To lessen the monotony of all three catalogues, famous heroes or stories are introduced at their conclusion and sometimes even before. The frame story serves a similar function and also contains a description of how the court poet worked.49 Ibid., pp. 8–9.

Sundén next talks about three names in the poem, Widsith, Scilling (line 103), and Ealhild (lines 5, 97). This first is a bahuvrihi compound (a form of synecdoche) and is fictional. The second is an authentic OE name but probably does not refer to a specific person. And the third probably does refer to a specific person, but there is no agreement on whom she might have been, since there is no reference to her outside of “Widsith.”50 Ibid., pp. 9–11. After rehearsing the various arguments for who she might be, Sundén concludes that she was probably a fourth-century Gothic queen of Widsith’s own tribe, the Myrgingas. Her name alliterates with Eadgils and Eadwine (her father), and one could surmise “that she was Eadgils’ sister and that her presence in the story was perhaps mainly due to his fame.”51 “att hon var en syster till Eadgils och att hennes tillvaro i sagan kanske främst berodde på dennes berömmelse.” Ibid., p. 13. As for the genetic development of the poem, Sundén surveys theories from Karl Müllenhoff (1818–84), Hermann Möller (1850–1923), and Bernhard ten Brink (1841–92), as well as those of Alois Brandl (1855–1940), Raymond W. Chambers (1874–1942), William W. Lawrence (1876–1958), Theodor Siebs (1862–1941), and Richard Jordan (1877–1925), and reaches the conclusion that the frame narrative was originally an independent poem and that the catalogues were added to it.52 Ibid., pp. 13–18. This conclusion is borne out by the work of Eduard Sievers (1850–1932) on OE meter,53 Ibid., pp. 18–24. and Sundén uses Sievers’ metrical system in producing his own Swedish translation of “Widsith.” It is produced in rhythmic prose, unshackled by alliteration, but faithful to the rhythm of the original poem itself.54 Ibid., p. 24. Sundén rounds out his study of “Widsith” with an examination of the historical and ethnographical material contained in it55 Ibid., pp. 30–40. and then the saga material, concluding that the poem has a more profound meaning than was thought just a decade ago.56 Ibid., pp. 40–43.

Stefán Einarsson, whose article on “Widsith” was examined in the Introduction to this book, published his next article in 1951, fifteen years after his first. In it, he explores a suggestion by Kemp Malone (1889–1971) that the reference in the poem in lines 103 to 108 to Widsith and Scilling jointly singing for their lord is comparable to the Finnish runo-singers’ custom of singing alternate lines of a poem to the accompaniment of a harp.57 Einarsson, “Alternate Recital by Twos,” p. 59. Einarsson surveys a range of ON and Finnish material where the phenomenon is recorded and concludes that Malone was most probably correct. Widsith’s and Scilling’s using the Finnish custom of recital by twos “implies that the practice must have belonged to the Germanic heroic tradition” initially and “might have spread from the Germanic tribes on the Baltic to the Finns as well as west to England.”58 Ibid., p. 80. We have no conclusive proof either way.

As we saw in chapter 1, OE studies in Scandinavia began with Andreas Bussæus’s appending Christopher Ware’s Latin translation of “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan” from The Old English Orosius to his edition of Landnámabók in 1733. Interest in that OE text has not diminished over the years, and fourteen publications on it appeared in the twentieth century in Danish, Swedish, Finland Swedish, Norwegian, and Icelandic. Jón Jónsson of Stafafelli, who speculated on where the battle of Brunanburh took place (see p. 124), for example, recounts Ohthere’s voyage to the Beormas in his survey of ancient explorations into the north seas, a survey based on his translation of an 1898 Norwegian article by Alexander Bugge (1870–1929)59 Alexander Bugge was the son of the great Norwegian linguist Sophus Bugge (1833–1907) and Professor of History at Royal Frederick University, 1903–12. See Krag, “Alexander Bugge.” on the same subject that he emends and expands.60 “Vore forfædres opdagelsesreiser i polaregnene.” Echoing Bugge, Jónsson concludes that “Óttar’s journey has great scientific value and from it followed more northern journeys and explorations.”61 “Ferð Óttars hefir mikið vísindalegt gildi, og af henni leiddi fleiri norðurferðir og landaleitir,” “Landaleitir formanna i Norðurhöfum,” p. 141. Shetelig recounts Ohthere’s voyage in Norwegian in Det norske folks liv og historie gjennem tidene. I, pp. 250–54. Other scholars have tried to locate specific places mentioned in the text, such as “Sciringesheal”62 Sørensen,Det gamle Skirinssal and “Om Skíringssalr?”; Kjær, “Hvad var Skíringssalr?” and “Sillende,”63 Neuhaus, “Sillende=vetus patria=Angel.” or outside of it, such as the legendary Viking fortress of Jomsborg,64 Larson, Jomsborg. or to demonstrate the likelihood that Hedeby was originally Swedish, not Danish, and modeled after the Viking trading town Birka in Lake Mälaren in Sweden.65 Lindqvist, “Hedeby och Birka,” p. 11. Two Swedish scholars disagreed on what The Voyages tell us about the Vikings’ concept of the points of the compass,66 Ekblom, “Den forntida nordiska orienteringen,” and Ellegård, “De gamla nordbornas väderstrecksuppfattning.” and a Finland-Swedish scholar examined Henrik Gabriel Porthan’s 1800 edition of The Voyages in juxtaposition with the 1815 Danish edition by Rasmus Rask.67 Envkist, “Porthans ‘Forsök at uplysa Konung Ælfreds Geografiska Beskrifning’.” Porthan: “Försök.” Rask: “Ottars og Ulfstens korte Rejseberetninger.”

The winner of the 1922 Nobel Peace Prize, on the other hand, took a distinctly personal view of the Alfredian text. Fridtjof Nansen (1861–1930), polymath and Rector of the University of St. Andrews from 1925 to 1928, obtained a doctorate in zoology from Royal Frederick University in Norway and held a research professorship at the University of Oslo, where he published six volumes of scientific research between 1897 and 1908, when he was appointed Professor of Oceanography. His adventurous expeditions, however, together with his extensive humanitarian work and service as a diplomat, are what made him internationally renowned. He once skied across Norway, for example, from Bergen to Oslo and back, and, with five others, he was the first to traverse the whole of Greenland, surviving hunger and exhaustion and temperatures of −45 °C. In 1895, he and one other ventured to the North Pole, getting closer than anyone in history ever had.68 Anon., “Fridtjof Nansen.” Understandably, the voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan would have engaged his interest. In his introduction to Nord i Taakenheimen. Utforskningen av Jordens nordlige Strók i tidlige Tider (Copenhagen, 1911), which was translated into English by Arthur G. Chater as In Northern Mists: Arctic Explorations in Early Times, he explains why:

Nansen contextualizes the voyages by explaining that the frequent Viking raids in the ninth century as well as Charlemagne’s wars in the north and Christian mission assignments there meant that contact – peaceful and warlike – between Southern and Northern Europe intensified. The Scandinavian countries became incorporated into the known world and knowledge of their geography became clearer.70 Ibid., p. 168. When King Alfred the Great, therefore, had Orosius’ Latin history of the world translated into OE, he augmented those portions concerning the North with newly acquired geographical knowledge.71 Ibid., p. 169. The most important contribution to that knowledge is

Ohthere’s mentioning walrus-hunting is striking, says Nansen. It shows that both Norwegians and Finns engaged in it at so early a date and undoubtedly long before; Ohthere may even have given the walrus ivory of which “The Franks Casket” is made to Alfred during his visit with him, although it could have come from some other Norwegian who had brought it to England. Walrus ivory and ropes made of walrus hide were valuable commodities at the time.76 Ibid., p. 176.

Nansen then quotes Ohthere’s account of his southern journey and states that it “is remarkable for the same sober lucidity as his narrative of the White Sea expedition; and as, on all the points where comparison is possible, it agrees well with other independent statements, it furnishes strong evidence of his credibility.”77 Ibid., p. 180. He concludes with a description of Wulfstan’s voyage from Hedeby to Prussia with references along the way to areas belonging to Denmark and Sweden on the port side of the ship and references to “Weonodland” (= Mecklenburg and Pomerania) as far as to the mouth of the Vistula and then to Estonia. “Henceforward we can count these parts of Europe as belonging to the known world.”78 Ibid., pp. 180–81.

In 1985, Ove Jørgensen (1908–?), a civil engineer for the city of Odense from 1935 to 1978 and also a skilled amateur cartographer, published Alfred den Store. Danmarks geografi. En undersøgelse at fire afsnit i Den gamle engelske Orosius (Alfred the Great: Denmark’s Geography: A Study of Four Chapters of the OE Orosius). He published two other books in his lifetime, OTONIVM, Odense 1593 (1981), in which he introduces and comments on Georgius Braunius’ (Georg Braun’s) 1593 map of Odense,79 Hansen, personal correspondence. and (with Tore Nyberg) Sejlruter i Adam af Bremens danske øverden (Sea Routes in the Danish Archipelago in Adam of Bremen’s Gesta, 1992). In Alfred den Store, he focuses on the portions of the OE Orosius that are an important source for the history of the earliest Danish kingdoms,80 Jørgensen, Alfred den Store, p. 1. something that had not been done since the period of Romantic Nationalism in Denmark and Rasmus Rask’s edition of “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan” in 1815.81 Rask, “Ottars og Ulfstens korte Rejseberetninger.” After surveying the content of the OE text, its manuscript history, the treatments of The Voyages from Hakluyt in the late sixteenth century to 1984, and how the OE Orosius was created,82 Jørgensen, Alfred den Store, pp. 2–8. Jørgensen spends a good deal of time explaining in great detail Alfred’s geographical orientation system with the help of a number of other scholars, chiefly Kemp Malone. Basically, Alfred’s north is closer to north-east, and Jørgensen applies that system to several place-names in the section on Germany in the OE Orosius.83 Ibid., pp. 9–56. Then he takes up the first mention of Danish territory in the text where King Alfred lists the neighbors of the Old Saxons: “7 be westan eald seaxum is ælfe muþa þære ie 7 frisland, 7 þonan westnorð is þæt lond þe mon ongle hæt 7 sillende 7 sumne dæl dene, 7 be norþan him is afdrede …”84 Ibid., p. 57. (to the west of the Old Saxons is the mouth of the river Elbe and Frisia, and then northwest is that land one calls Anglia and Sillende and a certain portion of [the land of] the Danes, and to the north of it is the Abodriti …). The last part of the description is somewhat ambiguous, and Jørgensen surveys the scholarly opinions on how it should be interpreted: 1) Anglia, Sillende, and the portion of Danish land can all be objects of the verb hæt; 2) Anglia and Sillende are objects with the portion of Danish land being in apposition to them; 3) Anglia is the object with Sillende and the portion of Danish land in apposition; or 4) all three are subjects, which would require emending the accusative sumne to the nominative sum.85 Ibid., pp. 58–61. Reference to other geographical descriptions, especially of Frisia and Anglia, helps Jørgensen conclude that the fourth possibility listed above is the correct one. Anglia is therefore the region between the North Sea and the Baltic from which the Angles emigrated; Sillende is the trade route from Hedeby to the west; and the area north of the river Eider during Alfred’s time was part of Danish territory.86 Ibid., p. 75.

King Alfred offers his second description of Denmark after finishing describing Eastern Europe as far north as the Riphaean Mountains, and he mentions the South Danes, the North Danes, and Bornholm: “Since Denmark is an island kingdom, its ‘neighbors’ or borders in several instances become the surrounding seas.”87 “Da Danmark er et ørige bliver ‘naboerne’ eller grænserne i flere tilfælde til de omgivende have.” Ibid., p. 76. The terms “South Danes” and “North Danes” that King Alfred introduces here are not used in either Ohthere’s or Wulfstan’s accounts of their voyages and, Jørgensen claims, are not known from other sources (but see Beowulf, where North, South, East, and West Danes are all mentioned). Jørgensen devotes the rest of his chapter to determining what was meant by South Danes and North Danes.88 Ibid., p. 76. Alfred’s observations about what lay to the north, south, east, and west of those regions as well as scholarly commentary on the text and place-name evidence helps Jørgensen locate the South Danes in south and the North Danes in north Jylland (Jutland), with the boundary between the two regions marked differently in Alfred’s time than in ours. An archaeological boundary line from the late Roman Iron Age seems to be at work in the former and a boundary line resulting from a political decision made in 1115 in the latter.89 Ibid., p. 81.

The third description of Denmark in the OE Orosius occurs in Ohthere’s account of his second voyage, this time to Sciringesheal in Vestfold on the western side of the Oslo fjord in southern Norway and then on to Hedeby, the Viking market town probably founded by Swedes on the model of Birka and eventually taken over by Danes. Ohthere says that it “stent betuh winedum 7 seaxum 7 angle 7 hyrð in on dene”90 Ibid., p. 103. (it lies between the Wends and the Saxons and the Angels and belongs to the Danes). It was near the end of the Jutland peninsula. Jørgensen discusses the problems raised by the description of Sciringesheal and the Oslo fjord (including the absence of the word “fjord” in OE)91 Ibid., p. 102. before turning to Hedeby, which was a five-day sail south or south-east from Sciringesheal.92 Ibid., p. 103. Scholars do not agree on what route Ohthere took to Hedeby. It could have been through the Sound separating Denmark and Sweden, the Great Belt strait between the islands of Zealand and Funen, or the Little Belt strait between Funen and the Jutland peninsula. The distance regardless of route is about 650 kilometers,93 Ibid., p. 107. and the landmarks and locations Ohthere enumerates along the way are unspecific enough to support arguments for all three routes.94 Ibid., pp. 108–12.

The fourth and final description of Denmark in the OE Orosius comes immediately after the third in the abruptly appearing account of Wulfstan of his voyage from Hedeby to Truso: “The town of Truso (on Lake Druzno) was situated on the Gulf of Danziger at the present-day Elbing.”95 “Byen Truso (ved søen Druzno ) lå ved Danzigerbugten ved det nuv ærende Elbing.” Ibid., p. 114. During the seven-day trip, Wulfstan passed the land of the Wends on the starboard side of the ship “7 on bæcbord him wæs langaland 7 læland 7 falster 7 sconeg 7 þas land eall hyrað to dene mearcan”96 Ibid., p. 113. (and to port was Langland, Lolland, Falster, and Skåne island, and all that land belongs to Denmark). After that came Bornholm, which had its own king, and then territory belonging to the Swedes, namely Blekinge, Möre, Öland, and Gotland. Jørgensen comments on all of these place-names and their histories, noting, for example, that the land of the Wends encompasses “the entire country along the Baltic Sea coast from limes saxoniae (at the Gulf of Kiel) to the Gulf of Danziger.”97 “hele landet langs Østersøens kyst fra limes saxoniae (ved Kielerbugten ) til Danzigerbugten.” Ibid., p. 114. He also suggests with other scholars that Wulfstan – of whom we know nothing – may have been a Dane from Hedeby, who perhaps met the Norwegian Ohthere there.98 Ibid., pp. 121–23.

A common perception of “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan” has been, observes Jørgensen, that the two travelers were merchants and that what they describe are simply two major Viking trade routes. This may be true, but in their emphasis on boundaries and geography and place-names and peoples, their interest seems also to be political, and that may have been more important to King Alfred than anything else.99 Ibid., pp. 123–25. Jørgensen concludes that the two narratives were included in the OE Orosius first because of Ottar’s description of his homeland and initial voyage and second because of Wulfstan’s record of the customs of the Osti people. “The conditions in these remote parts of Europe have to be assumed to have been unknown at that time in King Alfred’s court,”100 “Forholdene i disse fjerne egne af Europa må antages hidtil at have vaeret ukendte ved kong Alfred s hof.” Ibid., p. 128. or at least relatively so. Jørgensen also concludes that, besides the kingdom of Bornholm and the Swedish Blekinge, all of medieval Denmark had already been unified in the ninth century.101 Ibid., p. 129. “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan” lends credence to that conclusion.

“Widsith” and “The Voyages of Ohthere and Wulfstan” thus dominate the scholarly interest in Scandinavia in individual OE texts because of the works’ clear relevance to the Nordic countries. When Scandinavians turn their hands to translating OE literature, however, those two texts no longer take such prominence, as we shall see in chapter 7. Before we get there, though, we must examine how Beowulf is treated from a scholarly point of view and from the point of view of translators in the North.