Då fick jag mitt första vykort i barnens och min utmaning The Conqueror Events Challenge – Vikings-Invasions.
Barnen har redan fått ett par tidigare, men detta var mitt första.
From the window of his cell, a monk watches a summer storm lashing the ragged coast of the Holy Island of Lindisfarne. He pulls his habit closer to his body and mutters a prayer to the Virgin and to St. Cuthbert, patron of his monastery. The storm lasts for days, and each morning, the monks huddle together at Matins and debate the meanings of strange portents: great whirlwinds, sheets of lightning, and dragons flying through the heavens, unholy creatures who come from lands unknown and prey on those who seek salvation in the word of Jesus Christ.
The prows of five longships cut through the howling winds of the North Sea. On board are tall men, with long beards and fierce eyes. They come from a land where life is harsh and violent, a land that breeds warriors and killers. Not one among them has heard the word of the Gospel, nor do they care for the mercy and charity it preaches. They think only of the glint of gold, the thrill of victory and the mastery of slaves. They have heard of the great wealth of this place, that the feeble kings of Saxon Britain stock it with riches. They know that it is an easy target, standing all alone in the sea.
The monks are taken by surprise. The Northmen run into the abbey with their swords drawn. They grab monks, killing the weak and kidnapping the strong. They strip the abbot naked, robbing him of his jewels and silks, and plunder all the gold they can find. Then, they scour the island for any who have escaped, dragging them by their habits to the shore, where they are drowned. A monk notices, as he is frogmarched into bondage, the curved prow of the Northmen’s longship, carved into the shape of a monstrous, snarling dragon.
News of the attack spreads to all the courts of Christendom. In France, in the court of the magnificent Emperor Charlemagne, a visiting British monk named Alcuin writes in dismay:
“The Church of St. Cuthbert is left splattered with the blood of the priests, stripped of all its treasures and left unprotected from these plundering pagans.”
He continues:
“Is this the outcome of the sins of those who live there?”
This catastrophe has not happened by chance, but is the sign of some great guilt. How could the Christian God have abandoned the monks so? Lindisfarne was one of the holiest shrines in the British Isles. It had produced beautiful illuminated gospels in honour of Christ, and it was protected by St. Cuthbert. People begin to rationalise: perhaps the monks had been sinful, perhaps all the people of Britain had been sinful. Perhaps God was wreaking vengeance on all the hypocrites and liars who claimed they believed in his grace, but instead lied, stole, murdered and blasphemed.
Later, the monks of Lindisfarne retreat inland, carrying the great carved stone cross of St. Cuthbert on their backs, as well as his relics – preserved body parts of their patron – the few treasures left behind by the raiders. They settle behind the walls of an old Roman fort, a reminder of the days when the rulers of these lands could keep their people safe.
The raid on Lindisfarne begins a new chapter in the history of the British Isles. These Northmen are víkingr, meaning raiders or sailors in the language of their homeland. They come from a poor and fragmented country with little sun, and a violent, martial culture. They possess fast and manoeuvrable ships that allow them to hit and run, literally reversing out of the harbour like a getaway driver at a bank heist, before the locals can gather together enough men to stop them. They are tall, with sharp green eyes and long matted beards, covered head to toe in tattoos. It is as if they have been sent by the Devil himself.