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Thor was the Vikings’ “archetypal masculine god” – so why did he dress as a bride?
One of the earliest Norse myths depicts the so-called god of thunder in women’s clothing. Far from undermining Thor’s power, the story speaks volumes about how the Vikings understood humour and the gods themselves
Thor, bearded with hammer in hand, is one of the central and most recognisable characters of Norse mythology. He was synonymous with strength, virility and thunder; a figure closely associated with physical labour, farming and warfare, all of which were aspects central to life across the Norse diaspora. In the context of the Viking Age, Thor was widely revered as a dependable presence in a dangerous world. And that makes the poem Thrymskvitha, one of the earliest surviving Norse myths about him, all the more surprising. “Thrymskvitha is the oldest complete poem we have about the gods,” says Dr Jackson Crawford, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. It’s preserved in the Poetic Edda – the compilation of Old Norse poems recorded in the 13th century – and tells of how Thor disguises himself as a bride-to-be and attends a wedding feast in order become the ‘wife’ of a powerful Jotun, a giant from the realm of Jotunheim. But it’s all a ruse. Planned alongside his adopted half-brother, the trickster god Loki, the disguise is part of a scheme for Thor to recover his precious hammer Mjölnir, which has been stolen by the Jotun. Thrymskvitha – or Þrymskviða – was likely composed and circulated well before the Norse conversion to Christianity. Crawford describes it as “a really goofy adventure-comedy story”, yet it also offers a revealing insight into how Viking Age audiences related to their gods. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/12/GettyImages-152204607-e0e1556-e1766500509342.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This Viking Age relief from Gosforth churchyard depicts the god Thor fishing for the Midgard Serpent alongside the giant Hymir, a scene drawn from Norse Poetic Edda." title="Relief sculpture of Scandinavian origin from the Gosforth churchyard, depicts Thor fishing with the giant Hymir" /> Thor’s place in the Norse world Unlike Odin – Thor’s father, ruler of Asgard, who was associated with kingship, poetry and hidden knowledge – Thor was a more accessible god. He was invoked by farmers and travellers and was seen as a direct protector against the natural chaos of the world. His hammer, Mjölnir, was central to that role. As well as being a weapon, it was also a sacred object used to bless marriages and sanctify oaths and land. Small hammer amulets worn by Vikings attest to its everyday religious importance. And it’s with the hammer that the story begins. “Thrymskvitha starts with Thor waking up one morning and finding that his hammer is missing,” recounts Crawford. Without it, Thor is suddenly vulnerable. Thor summons Loki and demands that Loki uses his cunning and cleverness to help him retrieve the hammer. Loki borrows a feathered cloak belonging to the goddess Freyja, which allows him to fly, and travels to Jötunheim, the realm of the jötnar [giants], to investigate. There, Loki meets Thrymr, a powerful Jotun. “Thrymr says, ‘I’ve buried the hammer eight miles beneath the Earth and the only way you’re ever going to get it back is if you bring me Freyja as my bride.” Read more | Could you survive on the Vikings’ furthest frontier? Here’s the dark reality of Norse life on the edge Freyja was the famously beautiful goddess associated with love and fertility. Thor’s response is blunt. “Thor says, “We have to go and get Freyja and dress her up as a bride and send her to the giants because I need my hammer back.” And Freyja does not want to do this. She is not going to be forced to marry one of the jötnar.” At this point, the Viking gods meet to discuss their options. The solution comes from Heimdall, the god who served as watchman over Asgard, and he suggests something deliberately outrageous: Thor himself should dress as Freyja and go in her place. “Thor’s very resistant to this,” Crawford says. “Because this is Thor – the archetypal masculine god – being told he has to dress up as a bride.” As Crawford points out, much of the story’s humour is found in this contradiction: “Obviously, a lot of the comedy is in playing off gender roles.” Without Mjölnir, Thor is stripped of part of his own power. Despite his reluctance, he has no choice but to take up the plan. The Vikings | A short course from HistoryExtra Academy Member exclusive | Join Professor Ryan Lavelle for our four-week course on the Viking period, covering everything from trading and raiding, to daily life. Explore the course now An unhappy Viking wedding A disguised and veiled Thor travels with Loki for eight days to reach Jötunheim, riding in Thor’s chariot, which was pulled by his goats. Thrymr greets them eagerly and lays out a lavish wedding feast. “Thor canonically has an enormous appetite, so he eats all the food and drinks all the mead. And Thrymr is very suspicious, but Loki keeps playing it off that she’s just that hungry, because she’s been travelling so long.” Read more | This is the overlooked story of how the Vikings dominated eastern Europe Eventually, Thrymr calls for the hammer to be brought out to bless the marriage, a reminder of Mjölnir’s ritual as well as martial role. The instant it is placed in Thor’s lap, he throws off the disguise, seizes the hammer, and takes his revenge. “He kills all the jötnar,” says Crawford. “That’s the end of the story.” Gods who could be laughed at In many later religious traditions, the idea that gods could be mocked would feel jarring – or even criminal. Many cultures’ gods are distant, and unimpeachable in their moral rectitude. Thrymskvitha shows something very different. “This is a reminder that as seriously as people who believed in these gods no doubt took them, they could also have fun with them,” says Crawford. This kind of humour would have been familiar in oral storytelling cultures, where gods were vivid characters as much as they were objects of worship. Modern portrayals of Norse religion often fixate on its violent fatalism and obsession with heroic death. Thrymskvitha adds nuance and texture to that picture. It shows a mythological tradition that valued wit and absurdity, and that trusted its gods were able to withstand being ridiculed. Dr Jackson Crawford was speaking to James Osborne on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Dr Jackson Crawford explores the history and stories of Old Norse mythology told in the Poetic Edda, including what we can learn about the relationships between men and women
What do we know for certain about Old Norse ideas about masculinity and femininity, and can Viking Age mythology provide any answers? In conversation with James Osborne, Dr Jackson Crawford discusses the second edition of his translation of the Poetic Edda, and explores what can still be learned from the collection of Old Norse narrative poems that forms the foundation of our understanding of Viking mythology.
Everything you think you know about Vikings is WRONG
You KNOW who the Vikings are – bearded, brutish, spoiling for a fight, and ever ready to raid an Anglo-Saxon monastery near you. Or do you?
The Vikings were bearded, brutish, spoiling for a fight, and ever ready to raid an Anglo-Saxon monastery near you. How true is that, really? It is a stereotype beloved across pop culture – most visibly in TV and film – but it’s also an oversimplified fiction. HistoryExtra’s Kev Lochun braves the ire of a sword-wielding colleague to break down what we get wrong about the Vikings – not least, that they didn’t even exist. Confused? It’s all downhill from the horned helmets. View Green Video on the source website
Forget the longships: this is the overlooked story of how the Vikings dominated eastern Europe
How did the Norse adventurers of the Viking Age impose themselves upon eastern Europe? Not with longships and raids, says one historian, but through canny adaptation
The Norse peoples of the Viking Age held much of western Europe tightly in their grip thanks to their imperious command of the sea. Their prowess as seafarers let them strike their targets at speed and then slip away just as swiftly, in repeated cycles of relentless raids from the fertile shores of the British Isles to the harsher coasts of Iceland that brought wealth and power. Viking longships carved with fearsome, dragon-headed prows crashed through imposing waves, delivering warriors to burn monasteries and terrorise prosperous lands. These vessels were key to their hit-and-run strategy, and to its eventual evolution into something more settled as the Norse forged enduring strongholds on hostile ground. But for the Vikings who ventured east toward the Slavic and Baltic regions, the story unfolded very differently. Conquests there weren’t defined by ocean raids, but by a remarkable capacity for canny adaptation. In the territories of today’s Russia, Ukraine and Belarus, the Norse traded the open sea for winding rivers, turning inland waterways into vital thoroughfares of commerce, conflict and state-building. “The rivers are absolutely critical,” explains historian Martyn Whittock, author of Vikings in the East, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. “We need to envisage them as the motorways of the early medieval world, which allow people access deep into the heart of the European continent, particularly the east.” When did the Vikings first head east? Archaeological finds from the mid-eighth century (including Scandinavian-style burials in places like Staraya Ladoga, near modern St Petersburg) show that the Norse were already present on the Baltic-Russian frontier before the famous raids on Britain had even begun. These early Norse pioneers were traders as well as warriors. They followed the Neva and Volkhov rivers into the interior, establishing bases like Ladoga and Novgorod. From there, they probed deeper, carrying boats and their cargo overland between river systems. Read more | Norse gods and goddesses: 14 of the most important deities venerated by the Vikings By the ninth century, Norse settlers were establishing footholds from which they could push further inland. “We first see Norse settlements appear in eastern Europe along the southern shores of the Baltic,” says Whittock. “Increasingly they were utilising river systems which flow into the Baltic, and by following them along their courses into what is now northwestern Russia, they could then port ships across gaps in the river systems to connect with other river systems.” Swapping longships for log boats While the famous longships were ideal for crossing seas, they were less suited to being hauled over rapids or dragging across portages. So, in the east, Vikings turned to different vessels. “To start with, we should be thinking of squatter, stronger and broader trading vessels than the dragon-prowed ships of popular imagination,” says Whittock. The Norse also adopted local craft. Archaeological evidence shows they purchased huge unfinished log boats from Finnic and Slavic neighbours, later fitting them with sails. These sturdy ships could handle rapids and were easier to portage than larger ships. Read more | The dark reality of Norse life on the edge And in winter, transport shifted to sledges, which were ideal for gliding across frozen rivers and snowbound plains. “We need to think of sledges, because we always think of summer transport,” says Whittock. “And yet in many of these areas, winter transport on frozen rivers or frozen, snowy landscapes would be on sledges. That's the kind of mental image we need to have: more of a mixed economy of transport.” By log boat or sledge, the Norse moved steadily southwards through modern-day Russia, past today’s Smolensk, into Ukraine, and eventually to Kyiv. That city became the hub of a new and lasting regional power: Kievan Rus, the central hub of the Rus Vikings. Who were the Rus, and where does the name come from? The name ‘Rus’ itself may refer explicitly to this river-faring identity. “It’s interesting that one of the possible word origins for the name ‘Rus’ is from a mixed Finnish, old East Norse word, which means rowers: those who row,” Whittock explains. Before they were the inhabitants of Kievan Rus, they were Vikings of the kind introduced by Whittock, moving along rivers, rowing against currents and hauling boats across land. This eastward expansion would have been impossible without the rivers that stretched across the Eurasian plain like veins. Read more | The truth about Viking berserkers “Those rivers that flow north into the Baltic allowed access well into the heart of Russia. It was then possible to pick up other major river systems that then flow south into Ukraine and towards the Caspian Sea,” Whittock notes. A closer look at the geography of eastern Europe shows the river system that made this possible. The Dnieper linked Novgorod and Smolensk to the Black Sea and Constantinople. The Volga carried Norse merchants towards the Caspian, opening routes to Persia and the Islamic caliphates. These rivers made Scandinavia part of a global economy stretching to Byzantium, Baghdad and beyond. The rise of Rus The Rus settlements steadily grew into a federation of principalities ruled by Scandinavian dynasties but populated mainly by Slavs. Over generations, intermarriage and cultural exchange transformed the Norse elites. They adopted Slavic languages, Byzantine Christianity and local customs. By the late ninth century, leaders like Rurik (credited as founder of the Rus dynasty) and his successors, Oleg and Igor, were consolidating power in Novgorod and Kyiv, extracting tribute from Slavic tribes and expanding their authority through warfare and alliances. By the late 10th century, rulers like Vladimir the Great were more Slavic than Norse in culture, even if their lineage traced back to Scandinavia. The Norse had become the Rus: a distinct identity forged by geography and circumstance. Kyiv emerged as the heart of this world. Its location on the Dnieper made it a natural hub for trade flowing between Scandinavia, Byzantium and the steppe. From here, the rulers of Rus built a power that stretched from the Baltic to the Black Sea. 1066: The battle for England Member exclusive | The year 1066 is the most famous in English history, but there's a lot more to the story than one bloody battle at Hastings. In this four-part series, medievalist Marc Morris talks David Musgrove through the full story of the Norman Conquest. Watch all episodes now A distinct Viking identity: the Rus vs the Icelanders The Rus experience diverged sharply from that of Norse settlers in the west. In Iceland, Vikings recreated a Scandinavian society, carrying their laws, sagas and language with them across the North Atlantic. Isolation preserved their Norse culture in near-pure form. Read more | 10 incredible Viking stories from Norse mythology In eastern Europe, by contrast, the Vikings were absorbed into a much larger Slavic world. Over time, the Norse language faded, replaced by Old East Slavic. Pagan traditions gave way to Byzantine Orthodox Christianity. Norse sagas never took root; instead, the Rus produced chronicles and legal codes in Slavic style. “This began as a Norse Slavic state, but it increasingly became a Slavic state with Norse echoes. There was an awareness of origins and a real awareness of connectivity to the northern world, but by the year 1,000 this was an increasingly a Slavic state,” says Whittock. The Viking story in eastern Europe is one of adaptation and transformation. In the west, Norsemen dominated seas and coastlines. In the east, they turned rivers, frozen or flowing, into a tool of power. In the process, they stopped being only Norse. They became the Rus: a people who built a state undeniably distinct from their cousins in Iceland or Norway. Martyn Whittock was speaking to James Osborne on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Who was Thorkell the Tall? The pragmatic Viking warrior who fought for (and against) all sides
Who was the legendary Viking warrior Thorkell the Tall, and precisely how tall was he? From his links with the Jomsvikings to his role in the shifting Anglo-Saxon history leading up to 1066, his story has more twists than you might expect
The late Anglo-Saxon period was defined by ever-shifting struggles for supremacy. Across Northern Europe, chaos collided with opportunity, and Thorkell the Tall was among the many figures who set themselves onto this stage; a Viking leader whose life and legacy are marked by extraordinary military and political achievements, and a talent for canny survival. But despite his fame, the historical record leaves much about his life ambiguous. How can we separate fact from myth, while considering his significance within the context of the fading Viking Age? And, of course, just how much did Thorkell tower over his fellow men that he earned his name 'Thorkell the Tall'? How tall was Thorkell the Tall? There is no direct historical evidence that offers a precise height for Thorkell the Tall. His lofty height is only inferred by his epithet, which can also be translated as Thorkell the High. His name could, in fact, be a metaphorical allusion to high-ranking status, or his dominant presence. But, assuming that his name is a direct reference to an above-average height, it’s safe to estimate that Thorkell wouldn’t necessarily have had to be incredibly tall by modern standards to earn his title. This is because analysis of Viking skeletons suggests that an average Norseman stood at between 5’7” and 5’8” tall. Thorkell could have been under 6 feet, and still have been considered tall enough to be given his moniker. Thorkell’s early life and his links with the Jomsvikings The son of Strut-Harald, a Danish chieftain, Thorkell was descended from a noble lineage; something that allowed him early access to prominence. While he has no recorded date of birth, he first enters the historical record in the late tenth century – first recorded as fighting alongside the semi-legendary Jomsvikings (a fierce mercenary force of Vikings, deeply devoted to the Old Norse gods – though willing to eschew their beliefs for the right pay) in AD 986 during the battle of Hjörungavágr – an intra-Norse naval conflict. Over a decade later, Thorkell is then noted again at the turn of the millennium, AD 1000, in a second such conflict, again with the mercenary Jomsvikings, at the battle of Svolder. Read more | The truth about Viking berserkers Thorkell’s role in these two battles – if he was indeed present in them at all – is indicated by his inclusion in the Sagas. It was during this period that Thorkell the Tall theoretically displayed his mettle, proving his talents as a warrior and strategic leader. It’s not long after the turn of the millennium, and these battles, that Thorkell’s story converges with the Anglo-Saxons and the events that would form part of the buildup to 1066 and the end of the Viking Age. 1066: The battle for England Member exclusive | The year 1066 is the most famous in English history, but there's a lot more to the story than one bloody battle at Hastings. In this four-part series, medievalist Marc Morris talks David Musgrove through the full story of the Norman Conquest. Watch all episodes now Thorkell the Tall and Anglo-Saxon England Thorkell the Tall appears in the annals of English history during the turbulent reign of King Æthelred the Unready, when Viking opportunism still dominated the affairs of the Anglo-Saxons, and the descendants of Alfred the Great scrambled to consolidate the king’s unification of England. In 1002, Æthelred ordered the St Brice’s Day Massacre, a coordinated attack on Danish settlers in England following what had been a particularly intense decade of Viking aggression. This act of brutality was unwise, in the end, as it reignited Viking fury, enraging the Danish king Sweyn Forkbeard, spurring on a new series of Viking invasions aimed at punishing the English king. Thorkell played a leading role in these invasions. In 1009, at Forkbeard’s behest, Thorkell commanded a massive Viking fleet that landed in southern England. His army rampaged across the countryside, burning towns and extracting tribute. Thorkell targeted key locations, including Canterbury, whose archbishop, Ælfheah, was later taken hostage. However, allegedly against Thorkell’s wishes, the archbishop was executed by Viking warriors instead of being held hostage, instigating the possible beginnings of a rift between the Thorkell and his compatriots. Thorkell the Tall: a real-life Uhtred? In 1012, in the aftermath of his revenge on England, Thorkell’s allegiances shifted – and radically so. Leaving his Viking comrades behind, Thorkell switched sides and entered the service of King Æthelred. The reasons for this defection are unclear, but they may have been driven by political calculations or dissatisfaction with his Viking counterparts. This might not be as shocking as it seems; as a Jomsviking warlord in his past, Thorkell’s loyalty had historically been pragmatic and available to the highest bidder, and his decision to ally with Æthelred fits within the context of this murky Anglo-Saxon and Viking period where allegiances were fluid. And Thorkell’s role as an ally of England wasn’t simply tokenistic. He was appointed to lead a group of elite warriors known as the ‘Thingmen,’ who served as a personal guard for the king. His knowledge of the Vikings and his reputation as a warlord would have made him an invaluable asset (in the same vein as Uhtred of Bebbanburg from the fictional The Last Kingdom, who joins the side of Alfred the Great despite a deeply rooted Viking background). It was during this time that Thorkell forged even stronger links to the Anglo-Saxon cause by marrying one of the daughters of the king, with whom he possibly had his own children, including Edith Swanneck, the later wife of Harold Godwinson. Nevertheless, Æthelred’s reign remained unstable, and Thorkell’s allegiance to England would soon be tested by new developments. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/GettyImages-599953421-7d0ab0f-e1758894373465.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="Vikings on the horizon: This 12th-century depiction shows Viking ships arriving in Britain — a reminder of the raids and settlements that transformed the British Isles from the late 8th century onward. Even centuries later, the memory of Norse seafarers like Thorkell the Tall endured in medieval chronicles and imagination." title="Viking ships arriving in Britain, ca 1130" /> Thorkell turns cloak By 1013, Sweyn Forkbeard had launched a renewed assault on England, and Thorkell found himself caught between his Danish roots and his new English allegiance. When Sweyn’s son, Cnut, continued the campaign after his father’s death, Thorkell ultimately decided to revoke his new Anglo-Saxon fealties to align himself with the young Danish prince. Read more | Your guide to King Cnut: the fierce Danish warrior who ruled England Cnut’s conquest of England in 1016 (a crucial year in the building escalation toward 1066) marked the beginning of a new era. Thorkell was rewarded for his support with lands and titles, becoming one of Cnut’s most trusted advisors. He was appointed Earl of East Anglia, a position that granted him significant power and responsibility. And by shifting his loyalty once again, Thorkell proved himself as a canny and competent operator, with a keen ability to navigate the complex political landscape as circumstances demanded. Without ever becoming a king himself, Thorkell the Tall had defined himself as – arguably – one of the period’s most successful figures. The Vikings | A short course from HistoryExtra Academy Member exclusive | Join Professor Ryan Lavelle for our four-week course on the Viking period, covering everything from trading and raiding, to daily life. Explore the course now How did Thorkell the Tall die? Thorkell’s life after this remains obscure. He likely returned to Denmark at some point, perhaps to serve King Cnut in his broader Scandinavian empire, and by the mid-1020s, Thorkell disappears from the historical record entirely. Modern historians rely on a combination of primary sources, including the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle and Norse sagas, to piece together Thorkell’s story. However, these accounts were often written decades or even centuries after the events they describe, and are coloured by the biases of their authors. And, crucially, as Thorkell passes out of their purview, knowledge of him and his actions fade too. So whether he died in battle, or from some disease, or ‘retired’ peacefully back in Scandinavia, away from the turmoil in Anglo-Saxon England, his story, effectively, ends with the success of Cnut.
Why does Putin think Ukraine should be Russian? It’s all to do with the Vikings
Russian President Vladimir Putin’s narrative of a shared Russian–Ukrainian origin in the Viking-founded Kievan Rus is having dramatic implications in eastern Europe today. Here’s why the real history might be more complicated than the Russian president says
When Vladimir Putin states that Russians and Ukrainians are “one people”, he’s invoking a very specific vision of history. In essays and speeches, the Russian president has unfurled more than a thousand years of history to argue that modern Ukrainians and Russians share a single origin. “Putin’s claim is that because of a shared origin the Ukrainians and the Russians are one people, and that any division of them into two sovereign states is an artificial modern construct,” explains Martyn Whittock, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. Whittock is an author and historian whose recent book, Vikings in the East: From Vladimir the Great to Vladimir Putin – The Origins of a Contested Legacy in Russia and Ukraine, dissects that shared story and its connections to the medieval world of the Viking Age. Read more | Russia-Ukraine crisis: 9 milestone moments in history that explain today’s invasion At the centre of this origin story are the Rus (a particular group of Norse traders and warriors who settled in Eastern Europe and gave their name to both Russia and Belarus), and the towering 10th-century ruler Vladimir the Great, whose conversion to Christianity reshaped the destiny of the region. The Rus: the Vikings who headed east The Vikings are mostly remembered as violent raiders of the lands that lie south or west of Scandinavia: Britain, France, Ireland and Iceland. Yet from the 9th century, another branch of Norse seafarers set out east, rather than west. They navigated the great rivers of Eastern Europe – the Dnieper, the Don, the Volga – using their ships to link the Baltic to the Black Sea and the rich markets of Byzantium. These Norsemen became known as the Rus. “The Norse who came to this Slavic region are described as the Rus, and that’s a name that will run and run. It still exists in the name of Belarus and of course, Russia,” explains Whittock. The Rus were traders and warriors, dealing in furs, honey, wax and enslaved people. They established fortified towns along river routes, often marrying into Slavic elites. Over time they became culturally hybrid: Norse in origin but increasingly Slavic in language, custom and culture. Their most important political centre was Kyiv, which by the 10th century had become the capital of a loose federation of principalities known as Kievan Rus. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/GettyImages-961794534-e1090b6-e1758281079376.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="An illustration depicts Velikiy Novgorod during the Viking era. As a major trading hub on the river routes between Scandinavia and Byzantium, Novgorod played a crucial role in the development of the Rus’ and the wider Norse presence in Eastern Europe." title="Velikiy Novgorod" /> What was Kievan Rus? Kievan Rus wasn’t a centralised nation state but rather a network of regional centres including Kyiv, Novgorod, Smolensk and Chernihiv, bound together by dynastic ties and tribute. Its rulers belonged to the Rurikid dynasty, descended from the Viking chieftain Rurik. At its height in the 11th century, Kievan Rus stretched from the Baltic to the Black Sea. Trade flowed south to Byzantium and north to Scandinavia. The society was multi-ethnic, comprised of Slavs, Norse, Balts, Finnic peoples and steppe nomads. Read more | Could you survive on the Vikings’ furthest frontier? Here’s the dark reality of Norse life on the edge Kyiv’s wealth and culture gave it prestige, but already the threat of future fragmentation was present: powerful local princes, rival trade hubs and external threats from nomadic raiders were all emerging. Vladimir the Great and the baptism of Rus One of Kyiv’s most celebrated rulers was Vladimir the Great, who lived c958–1015. “In AD 988, a decision was made by Vladimir’s court to convert to Eastern Orthodox Christianity. It was a game changer and of immense historic importance because it allied the Rus with the Eastern Roman empire,” Whittock explains. Vladimir ordered mass baptisms in the River Dnieper. From this point on, the Rus elite looked to Constantinople, capital of the Byzantine empire, for spiritual authority. Read more | The Viking connections to the Byzantine empire This decision had far-reaching consequences. Rus Christianity was Orthodox, not Catholic. Its holy books were written in Old Church Slavonic, not Latin. Its priests and rituals bound the region eastward, and created the notion of Holy Rus: a concept of Russian origins connected to both geography and religion. “We have this highly enhanced religious, national and ethnic character,” says Whittock. And it’s that character that would form the shared basis of Russia and Ukraine and the broader Soviet landscape in eastern Europe. Collapse, Mongol conquest and the rise of Muscovy Kievan Rus never became a lasting empire. In the 12th century, internal rivalries and shifting trade routes weakened it. In the 13th century, Mongol invasions shattered its unity. Power shifted north and east. Novgorod survived as a trading hub, but over time, the newer principality of Muscovy, centred on modern Moscow, ascended in prominence. Its princes cooperated with the Mongol khans, gradually building resources and influence. By the end of the 15th century, Moscow had thrown off Mongol dominance and emerged as the core of a new Russian state. Its rulers claimed continuity with Kievan Rus, insisting that the sacred legacy of Vladimir’s baptism had passed to them. Shared origins but divergent paths Russia, Ukraine and Belarus all trace cultural and linguistic roots back to this early medieval era, and to Kievan Rus. But despite that shared origin, their histories would diverge significantly in the succeeding centuries. Much of western Ukraine came under the control of the Polish–Lithuanian Commonwealth between the 14th and 17th centuries. This exposed Ukrainians to Catholicism, Renaissance ideas and traditions of local autonomy. On the steppes, Cossack hosts developed a reputation for fierce independence, cultivating ideals of freedom and self-rule that became central to Ukrainian identity. Russia remained centred on Muscovy. From there it expanded eastwards, building a vast empire under an increasingly powerful autocracy. The tsars claimed universal authority, drawing church and state tightly together in ways that reinforced centralised control. Read more | Anglo-Saxon conversion: the coming of the cross (at the point of a sword) By the 19th century, the Russian empire sought to assert control over Ukrainian lands through Russification – the policy of imposing Russian language and culture to create cultural unity within the Russian Empire. Ukrainian language was restricted in schools and publishing, and folk culture was suppressed. “Very often the Russians are saying, ‘You’re exactly the same as we are’, and then carrying out Russification, which begs the question, why do you need to Russify if there’s no difference?” Whittock notes. The very act of trying to erase Ukrainian identity underscored its distinctiveness, but Russia succeeded in its aims, and most of Ukraine was absorbed into the Russian Empire. Ukraine in the Soviet century After the Russian Revolution that brought the Russian Empire to its end, Ukraine briefly declared independence in 1917–21 before being incorporated into the Soviet Union. Under Josef Stalin, Ukraine suffered terribly, not least during the Holodomor, the famine of 1932-33 that killed millions. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/09/GettyImages-96825291-b1bf3b3-e1758282037342.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This propaganda poster depicts Joseph Stalin with his arm raised in a gesture of authority and leadership. Such imagery was central to the cult of personality that surrounded Stalin during his rule, presenting him as the guiding force of the Soviet Union." title="Stalin Poster" /> In Soviet ideology, Ukraine was part of the brotherhood of Slavic nations, yet its distinctiveness was tightly controlled. Expressions of Ukrainian nationalism were branded as separatism. At the same time, Ukrainians played a major role in Soviet life, from industry to the military. This Soviet legacy left Ukraine deeply entwined with Russia but also fostered resentment at repeated suppression of national identity. Putin’s use of history In the 21st century, Putin has used the Rus story as a historical anchor for his policies. Following the annexation of Crimea in 2014, he compared the peninsula to Jerusalem, calling it sacred Russian ground where Vladimir the Great had been baptised. “All of these statements are rooted in the origin stories of Kievan Rus and are used to support a narrative by Putin that there is one monolithic Russian nation that has been divided by modern events, but must be brought back together again, if necessary by force,” Whittock observes. By invoking the concept of Holy Rus – the notion of the religious, historic and geographical origin behind both Russia and Ukraine – Putin presents himself and the modern Russian state as a re-unifier, restoring a shared history broken apart by artificial borders. For Whittock, the flaw in Putin’s version of history is its denial of Ukrainian agency. Read more | Did the Cold War ever really end? “Although we are the inheritors of our history, we are not prisoners of our history. We still have agency,” he argues. Putin’s claim that Ukraine is inseparable from Russia rests on a story that begins with Viking adventurers and Vladimir the Great’s baptism. The Rus were Vikings who created a new Norse-Slavic identity and founded the basis of the cultures that became Russia, Belarus and Ukraine. And, by invoking the history of Holy Rus, Putin presents history as a chain binding Ukrainians to Russia. It’s a genuine shared history, but, Whittock argues, it’s not one that should bind the present or future. “Putin denies the agency whilst emphasising the original unification. You need to recognise the reality of origins, absolutely, but you also need to recognise current people’s agency to decide their own trajectory and their own future.” Martyn Whittock was speaking to James Osborne on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
How did the Vikings shape Russia and Ukraine?
Vikings didn't just sail west: they also went east, playing a crucial role in the emergence of what would become eastern Europe – Martyn Whittock explores this overlooked story
The story of the Vikings who travelled to eastern Europe is just as thrilling as the story of those who headed west. It's also just as important – still being relevant today through deep rooted connections to the ongoing war in Ukraine. But what are those long-lasting links, exactly? Historian and author Martyn Whittock examines this complicated history in conversation with James Osborne. Martyn Whittock is the author of Vikings in the East: From Vladimir the Great to Vladimir Putin – The Origins of a Contested Legacy in Russia and Ukraine (Biteback, 2025). Buy it now from Waterstones
Could you survive on the Vikings’ furthest frontier? Here’s the dark reality of Norse life on the edge
Historian Eleanor Barraclough reveals the brutal challenges faced by Norse settlers in Greenland – a Viking world of fragile farms and endless winters
It’s true that the Vikings were formidable raiders, warriors and explorers – storming monasteries on the coasts of Britain, sailing rivers into the depths of eastern Europe and even journeying as far as North America – all while violently snatching territories and treasure as they went. But it’s also true that this only encapsulates a small aspect of the broader Norse world. The Vikings – those raiders and warriors – were one facet of a culturally and geographically expansive people who set out from the heart of Scandinavia to find wealth and land. That objective took them from Northern Europe to the fringes of the Abbasid Caliphate in the Middle East, to the depths of what would become Russia, and – far across the Atlantic – to Greenland: the ultimate destination of the fearsome Norse chieftain and father of Leif Erikson, Erik the Red. It was late in the 10th century, just before the turn of the milenium, that Erik the Red was exiled from Iceland for his violence. Seeking a new home, he led his followers west to one of the most unforgiving environments in the Norse world: Greenland. A harsh new Norse home For the Norse, Greenland was the furthest edge of the habitable world. Life there was not measured in the frequency of plunder or military glory, but in whether communities could last through freezing winters, scarce resources and constant uncertainty. Speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast, historian Eleanor Barraclough explained how the Norse arrived there in the first place, and what daily life was really like on this harsh frontier. “After being outlawed from Iceland, Erik the Red goes west and he explores the west coast of Greenland,” explains Barraclough. “Erik spends those three years as an outlaw going up and down all the fjords on this west coast, and he names it Greenland because people are more likely to want to settle there if it’s got a good name.” Greenland’s name may have been clever marketing, but the reality was anything but green. The island’s east coast was locked in ice, uninhabitable to all but nomadic hunters. As Erik soon learned, only the west coast, with fjords and small strips of grassland, offered a fragile foothold. Read more | A thousand years ago, the Vikings had a shock encounter with Native Americans that ended in disaster “The east coast is not habitable. It’s very, very icy. The west coast is a different matter … you can just about farm there. You’re very much on the edge of habitable land, but you are still at that edge, not beyond it.” Here, Norse settlers established two main farming regions: the Eastern Settlement, where Erik lived, and the Western Settlement further north. “At the Eastern settlement is a couple of thousand people and a good number of farmsteads,” Barraclough explains. “And then the Western settlement is smaller. There are maybe 80 farmsteads at its height.” <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/08/GettyImages-152200768-beac1f5-e1756397805244.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="These are the remains of Brattahlid, the eastern settlement founded by Erik the Red around AD 1000. As the heart of Norse Greenland, it thrived for several centuries — a remote outpost of Viking exploration and adaptation on the edge of the known world." title="Brattahlid, the eastern settlement, founded by Erik the Red" /> Farming at the edge of possibility Early settlers to this west coast of Greenland tried to transplant familiar Scandinavian farming practices. They brought cows, sheep, goats and horses in their ships, and attempted to grow crops such as barley. Archaeologists have found grinding stones that suggest early efforts to cultivate cereals. But Greenland’s climate made arable farming almost impossible. Read more | 8 Viking dates you need to know “They do try and grow crops initially, but it’s not really feasible,” says Barraclough. “It’s just too far north, it’s too remote. The winters are too long and cold and dark for that. For the most part, the Norse Greenlanders don’t see bread on their table.” Instead, livestock provided the basis of survival. During short summers, grass from fjord valleys was cut and stored as hay to feed animals through the winter. Cows supplied milk, sheep and goats provided wool and dairy products, while meat and hides were used sparingly. Families relied on butter, cheese and preserved dairy to survive the dark months – always hoping their fodder stores would last until spring. Vikings hunting the Arctic As time went on, farming alone could not sustain the settlements. Hunting and fishing became increasingly important. Seal meat and fat provided vital calories during the winter, with animals caught on sea ice or during migration. Reindeer offered venison and hides, while walrus supplied not only meat but also ivory tusks – a commodity so valuable it was exported to markets as far away as England. This delicate balance was constantly under threat. A failed fodder harvest or poor hunting season could tip households into famine. And crucially, unlike in Iceland or Norway, Greenlanders had no close neighbours to turn to for help. Life on the farmstead Daily life revolved around farmsteads built from stone, turf and timber. These were extended communities of families, workers and thralls: enslaved men and women who remain largely invisible in written sources but were central to Norse society. “The thralls, they are so often invisible, but there are a lot of them, and they’re usually doing the nastiest, coldest, dirtiest, most dangerous jobs in any farmstead,” Barraclough says. Read more | What was life like for Viking women? Thralls tended animals in freezing conditions, hauled fodder, cut turf and accompanied dangerous hunts. Their labour, though rarely acknowledged, underpinned the survival of the entire settlement. To live as a Viking Age thrall in Norse Greenland was to have one of the toughest lives across the entire Norse world. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/08/GettyImages-152204548-1-9d260f7-e1756397984165.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This illumination from the Icelandic Flateyjarbók shows King Harald Fairhair freeing the giant Dofri, who, in Norse folklore, becomes his foster father. Blending legend and history, the manuscript reflects how Icelandic scribes preserved royal sagas and heroic tales in richly illustrated form." title="Illumination from the Icelandic manuscript Flateyjarbok which shows King Harold Fine Hair cutting the fetters from the giant Dofri who was to become his foster father in folklore" /> Winter: the ultimate Norse enemy Summer in the fjords could be deceptively pleasant, with green fields and grazing livestock. But winter was the true test of life in Greenland. “Where you find most North Greenland farms, you will find green grassy fields. But the problem is the winters are very cold, very long, very dark and very icy … longer, darker, colder even than in Iceland,” says Barraclough. Read more | The Norse gods and goddesses you need to know Unlike Iceland, where communities could trade or travel during hard times with the not-so-distant Norway, a Norse heartland, Greenland’s isolation made mistakes deadly. Firewood was scarce, hay ran short, and livestock could starve in barns. Families endured months of darkness, surviving on dried seal meat, dairy products and whatever stores had been put aside. Survival on the edge of the world Ultimately, Erik the Red’s ‘Greenland’ was more an act of branding than of accurate description. For the Norse who followed him, survival here demanded a constant balancing act between fragile farmland, risky hunting and the uncertain rewards of trade. For centuries they endured, maintaining links to Europe through ivory and occasional voyages, even as their settlements clung to the limits of habitable land. But theirs was far from the Viking world of raids and conquest. It was a world of ceaseless struggle against climate and geography – where winters were the harshest enemies, thralls bore the toughest burdens and mere survival was the greatest reward. 1066: The battle for England Member exclusive | The year 1066 is the most famous in English history, but there's a lot more to the story than one bloody battle at Hastings. In this four-part series, medievalist Marc Morris talks David Musgrove through the full story of the Norman Conquest. Watch all episodes now This article is based on an interview with Eleanor Barraclough, speaking to James Osborne on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.
Emma of Normandy: not just a two-time queen consort of England
Emma of Normandy was queen consort to two of England’s best known pre-Conquest kings, Æthelred the Unready and Cnut the Great. But she was also a savvy political player who came into her own as queen mother, writes Dr Cat Jarman
Emma of Normandy is best-known as being queen consort to two kings – Æthelred the Unready and Cnut the Great – and the mother of two more, Harthacnut and Edward the Confessor. She was the daughter of Richard I (the Fearless) of Normandy and the Danish-descended Gunnor. She is also a pivotal character in King and Conqueror, the BBC's Norman Conquest drama, which paints Emma as a dominating force over her son King Edward – which leads to a very ahistorical demise – and in Netflix's Vikings: Valhalla, where she is portrayed as a politically-savvy queen wielding quiet power in the English court, often working to subvert the machinations of the ever-grasping Earl Godwin. Who was Emma of Normandy? Emma was one of nine children and most likely born in the AD 980s. A daughter of the Norman dukes, she was the great-granddaughter of the Viking warrior Rollo, the founder of Normandy who hailed from either Norway or Denmark. This made her of Scandinavian ancestry on both sides of the family. She was also the great-aunt of William the Conqueror. In the words of Godfrey, prior of Winchester’s cathedral monastery, writing in the 11th century: “She had kings as sons and kings as husbands; she shone forth in the glory of her progeny of kings; she excelled in virtue even the ranks of her glorious ancestors.” Emma of Normandy's first marriage: Æthelred the Unready In 1002, probably aged in her late teens or early 20s, Emma was sent to England to marry King Æthelred, as his second wife. The marriage was clearly a strategic one, aiming to strengthen an alliance between England and Normandy in light of harrowing attacks on both English and Norman shores by Scandinavian raiders. Æthelred had apparently accused Emma’s brother, Duke Richard II, of harbouring the Vikings and enabling their attacks, and the marriage was designed to ensure his allegiance. Read more | Aethelflaed: who was the warrior queen who crushed the Vikings? Their union was an unusual one, as although several English princesses had been married off to French and German rulers historically, no English king had married a foreign wife for almost 150 years. Upon her arrival in England, Emma was given the name ‘Ælfgifu’. The marriage resulted in three children: two sons, Edward (later known as Edward the Confessor) and Alfred, and a daughter, Godgifu. Few sources say much about Emma’s political activity in these years, and it seems her role was mainly one of being a wife and a mother: the most common description of her at the time was as the conlaterana regis: “she who is at the King’s side”. This first decade of her career was the one in which she was the least powerful, and one source, William of Malmesbury, suggests that she and her husband were never on good terms. The England that Emma found herself at the beginning of the 11th century was one marked by ongoing trouble and threats of Scandinavian attacks. In 1013, this came to a head when the Dane Swein Forkbeard successfully invaded England. Emma and her children were sent into exile in Normandy, later followed by her husband. Swein’s rule of England was to be short as he died the following year, and a messy two years of political disputes ensued even after Æthelred was restored to the throne. Emma of Normandy's second marriage: Cnut the Great In 1016, Æthelred died. More turbulence was to follow, and later that year England fell to Swein Forkbeard’s son, the Danish King Cnut. The following year, he is reported to have asked for Emma to be fetched to be his wife. Emma became queen of England, once again, but this time also of Denmark and Norway. As with her first marriage, this was a strategic one as it cemented Cnut’s role as king of England. Taking the widow of one of his predecessors as his own wife no doubt helped mark his superiority. At the same time, the union might be seen as symbolising friendship and alliance. While it is unclear what Emma herself really thought of it at the beginning, she later stressed that not only did the marriage bring peace but it was an equal union that she entered into with her own consent. Read more | Cnut’s invasion of England: setting the scene for the Norman conquest Her ancestry may well have affected her feelings. After all, her mother was the daughter of recent Danish settlers in Normandy, and northern origins were a key part of Norman self-identity. Emma likely spoke Danish from childhood and apart from her family connections, she was clearly important to Cnut – not least because of her knowledge of English politics. It seems likely that the partnership between the two grew over time, helped by the fact that they were more or less of the same age. In a document from the New Minster in Winchester, illustrating the monastery’s loyal benefactors, the two are depicted either side of an altar as a double act. This depiction – one of several – emphasises Emma’s political importance. Their marriage lasted until Cnut’s death in 1035. Emma of Normandy's children As well as the two sons and one daughter Emma had with Æthelred, she went on to have two more children with Cnut: Harthacnut and Gunnhild. Cnut also had two sons by his first wife, Ælfgifu (confusingly, the same name that was given to Emma), Swein and Harold Harefoot. At the time of Cnut’s death, Swein had been sent to rule in Norway along with his mother, while Harthacnut was ruling in Denmark. That left Harold as the only of Cnut’s sons still in England. Emma remained at Winchester, where Cnut’s military household was based, and was left in charge of the Royal Treasury and in a position of power. Read more | Norman women: the power behind the thrones Harthacnut was the legitimate heir and should have ascended the English throne, but he could not return from Denmark to claim the crown so Harold ruled in his stead as either regent or co-ruler. Competition for the throne was to continue. Emma’s sons with Æthelred – Edward and Alfred – had been in exile in Normandy and returned to England in 1036. Alfred was soon killed, after being captured and blinded under suspicious circumstances, and Edward may have briefly joined his mother in Winchester before returning again to Normandy. Eventually, Harold was recognised as sole king in 1037. Emma was exiled to Flanders, where she stayed with a distant relative, Count Baldwin and his wife Adela. But her ambitions for herself and her sons remained. Read more | Are women at the heart of the action in the Norman Conquest? Emma of Normandy as England’s queen mother Emma’s career in England can be divided into three distinct parts: the first two relating to her marriages, and the third to this period after Cnut’s death. Now, Emma worked to manoeuvre her sons into kingship, taking an active part in the political sphere as queen mother. When Harold died in 1040, Emma returned from Flanders and Harthacnut finally took the throne. The role as queen mother was clearly an important one, and she was recognised as an authority: she is listed as mater regis in witness lists during these years. Emma may have learnt about queenship from her mother, Gunnor, who was later hailed as the matriarch of the Norman aristocracy, dubbed the ‘mother of the dynasty’ in the 12th century. Harthacnut ruled for only two years, with Emma by his side, until his death in 1042. He was succeeded by his half-brother Edward. But the new king appears to have turned against his mother, arriving in Winchester a few months after his coronation and taking away her treasures of silver and gold, as well as most of the land she owned. Emma was allowed to stay in Winchester and eventually regained her position at court, though without her former status. The precise reasons for this are unclear: Emma was later accused of having been too harsh on Edward; of offering aid to Magnus of Norway for an invasion of England; and even of having had an affair with Ælfwine, the bishop of Winchester. It seems none were true. Edward most likely wanted to reduce her political involvement back to a simple status as the widow of the former kings, leaving him to rule independently. As far as we know, she lived the rest of her life in Winchester. What was Emma of Normandy’s legacy? Our actual information about Emma’s life is sparse, Much of what we know comes from the Encomium Emmae reginae, the Praise of Queen Emma. This narrative was written down in 1041/2 by a monk from St Bertin, in what is now France, and was commissioned by Emma herself. The Encomium, however, is not a straightforward biography, but an account – modified in several later versions – of the role she played in English politics during the reign of Cnut and his successors. A famous illustration shows her seated on a throne, a kneeling character handing the book to her, with her sons Harthacnut and Edward watching from the wings. The Encomium conjures the position she was in at the height of her power, aimed at her sons and written to influence the future. Despite her remarkable political career, her best known legacy is no doubt her Norman link to William the Conqueror, enabling the events of 1066 to run their course. In the words of 12th-century historian Henry of Huntingdon, describing her marriage: “From this union… the Normans were justified according to the law of peoples, in both claiming and gaining possession of England.” How and when did Emma of Normandy die? Emma died of an unknown cause on 6 March 1052. She was buried next to Cnut and Harthacnut in Winchester Cathedral. In 2019, a team from the University of Bristol announced that among the 1,300 bones mixed up in six mortuary chests from Winchester Cathedral were the remains of a woman who matched both the date and age of death of Emma. There are no records of other women of similar status buried there at the time and DNA work is in progress in an attempt to identify the remains more definitively. 1066: The battle for England Member exclusive | The year 1066 is the most famous in English history, but there's a lot more to the story than one bloody battle at Hastings. In this four-part series, medievalist Marc Morris talks David Musgrove through the full story of the Norman Conquest. Watch all episodes now Dr Cat Jarman is an archaeologist, broadcaster and author of River Kings: A New History of the Vikings from Scandinavia to the Silk Roads (HarperCollins, 2021) King and Conqueror is streaming on BBC iPlayer now. For more content like this, check out the best historical movies of all time as chosen by historians and ranked by you, history TV shows and films to stream tonight, and our picks of the new history TV and radio released in the UK this week
A thousand years ago, the Vikings had a shock encounter with Native Americans that ended in disaster
When Old Norse explorers reached North America, they made history. But their brief, violent encounter with its indigenous peoples shows how cultural collisions could end in chaos. Historian and Viking expert Eleanor Barraclough explains the story
When Leif Erikson and his fellow Norse explorers first sighted the forested shores of what is now northeastern Canada, they became the first Europeans known to set foot in North America. This was near the turn of the first millennium in AD 1000, centuries before North America was ‘discovered’ by Christopher Columbus. But what followed was neither a tale of conquest nor colonisation. This was to be a short, tense and ultimately doomed instance of trans-Atlantic cultural contact. “According to the Norse sagas, the expeditions from Greenland to North America meet the indigenous people who live in these parts,” explains historian and Old Norse expert Eleanor Barraclough, speaking on the HistoryExtra podcast. This unprecedented encounter brought together peoples separated by thousands of miles and shaped by different environments, technologies and belief systems. And it began, as many tales of Norse adventure do, with violence and exile. Exiles in search of new lands The story of the journey by the Norse settlers of Greenland, to the shores of what is now Canada, begins with Erik the Red. The father of Leif Erikson, Erik was a man whose temper and penchant for murder had seen him outlawed from both Norway and, later in his life, Iceland, where he had been a prominent figure. Read more | The secrets of the Viking Great Army Banished, Erik sailed west from Iceland in search of new lands. With a small fleet of ships and his followers in tow, he landed on Greenland, creating official Norse settlements on it around AD 985. Barraclough explains that for a volatile but powerful – and ambitious – character like Erik the Red, the allure of Greenland was partly in the promise of the unknown. “I think, Erik, on a personal level, must have been very charismatic. Dangerous and murderous, but charismatic,” she says. “To [explore across the Atlantic] requires a Wild West mentality – and so someone like Erik would be the perfect person to settle somewhere like Greenland, because it's going into the unknown,” explains Barraclough. Greenland offered land and space but, it turned out, little else. “Even at its height, Erik’s settlement only has a population in the very low thousands,” says Barraclough. Read more | 10 incredible Viking stories from Norse mythology The harsh winters and limited resources ultimately prompted further expeditions westward from Greenland, again into unknown territory, in search of more land. The Norse sagas describe that it was Erik’s son, Leif, who led these expeditions. But what was he searching for? As Barraclough puts it, “It does look like resources are important. A sense of adventure is important, a sense of discovery, but also the possibility of new settlement.” <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/07/GettyImages-542354713-939e4c1-e1753791578991.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="This illustration depicts the arrival of the first Norse settlers in Greenland under Erik the Red. Driven by exile and exploration, Erik led a fleet from Iceland to establish one of the westernmost outposts of the Viking world." title="Erik the Red's fleet" /> The voyage to Vinland Setting off from the Western shores of Greenland, Leif Erikson’s expedition likely reached the coast of Labrador – which the Norse called Markland, or ‘forest land’ – before sailing further south to what they named Vinland, believed to be the northern tip of Newfoundland. Read more | The truth about Viking beserkers The sagas describe Leif discovering a landscape rich in timber and resources, a sharp contrast to the rocky, forbidding coastline of Greenland. But the Norse certainly weren’t alone. First contact – and first trade Soon after landing, they encountered the indigenous peoples of the region, likely ancestors of the Beothuk or other Algonquian-speaking groups. The Norse explorers called these people the ‘Skraelings’, which Barraclough translates as “wretched ones” or “puny ones”. But despite the derogatory name, according to the evidence from the Norse sagas, the first interactions between the Norse and the native American communities were initially peaceful. Read more | Norse gods and goddesses: the deities of the Vikings “It starts off fairly amicably,” Barraclough says. “They're exchanging goods, trading dairy products for cloth, for skins and for pelts.” The scenes are striking in their familiarity. Much like later European explorers, the Norse initially engaged in cautious barter. But the similarities don’t end there – nor do they offer much cause for optimism. From trade to bloodshed Despite the peaceful start, the relationship soon soured and hostility flared. “Eventually the relationship breaks down,” Barraclough explains. “The Norse kill some of the people living there, and then obviously there are retaliations.” Read more | The legend of the Jomsvikings Quickly, this burgeoning relationship between two distinct cultures from across the Atlantic descended into a spiral of retaliatory violence and bloodshed. “That’s the point where they say: we can’t set up home there,” says Barraclough. <img src="https://images.immediate.co.uk/production/volatile/sites/7/2025/07/GettyImages-520726071-2-285f5d7-e1753791675209.jpg" width="1500" height="1000" alt="In this painting by Christian Krohg (1852–1925), Norse explorer Leif Erikson stands at the prow as he approaches the shores of North America, centuries before Columbus." title="Leiv Eiriksson discovers America. Artist: Krohg, Christian (1852-1925)" /> Outnumbered and out of place The Vikings soon abandoned the relative riches of the land they’d ‘discovered’ to return home to Greenland, after effectively being chased off by the native inhabitants. However, Leif Erikson wasn’t the only Norse explorer to attempt settlement. The sagas recount multiple expeditions to Vinland, involving other children of Erik’s, but these later expeditions to the edge of the North American continent shared the same fate – cut short by violence, a lack of supplies, and not enough support from the broader Norse world at large. Read more | The life of Freydis Eiriksdottir Unlike earlier Viking expeditions into Europe that also collided violently with the inhabitants of richer lands, these Greenlandic explorers lacked the numbers and infrastructure to impose control on this new and resource-rich region, or to assimilate into it. “They've just gone so far beyond what is culturally recognisable to them that there's nothing to assimilate into,” says Barraclough. “The numbers aren't there, the backup isn't there, but also that cultural familiarity isn't there either.” Why nothing lasted Despite their bold explorations – first to Greenland and then on from Greenland itself – Vikings never established a lasting presence in North America. Ultimately, Erik’s settlement of Greenland wouldn’t last either. As the Viking Age drew to a close across Europe, and after the failed expeditions to North America, the Greenlanders became increasingly isolated from their kin in the east. Over centuries the Greenland colony shrank away, eventually dissipating entirely. Read more | What was life like for Viking women? “Life gets harder and harder for the Greenlanders. It looks like it's a fizzle rather than a bang in terms of how Norse Greenland comes to an end. But we know that by around AD 1500 they're gone.” Unlike so many other instances from the history of the Vikings and their Norse colonies, the Greenlandic Norse explorers found a land – and a people – where they were unable to leave lasting influence. They journeyed to the edge of the known world, and beyond it, but what – and who – they found there decidedly rejected them. The Vikings | A short course from HistoryExtra Academy Member exclusive | Join Professor Ryan Lavelle for our four-week course on the Viking period, covering everything from trading and raiding, to daily life. Explore the course now This article is based on an interview with Eleanor Barraclough, speaking to James Osborne on the HistoryExtra podcast. Listen to the full conversation.