The Northmen in Britain — Text and Context

Two Peoples, Two Routes

Hull’s opening chapters establish a contrast that the catalog subject 'Northmen' might obscure: the Norsemen and the Danes, though often grouped together, followed distinct paths and established different kinds of settlements. The Norsemen, she writes, came 'from the deep fiords of Western Norway,' pushing into the Atlantic and settling the Orkney and Shetland Isles before moving southward to Caithness, Fife, and Northumbria on the east, and to the Hebrides, Galloway, and Man on the west. The Danes, by contrast, 'seem to have been the first to invade Northumbria' but their main movement was 'round the southern shores of England.' Hull emphasizes that both streams met in Ireland, where 'a sharp and lengthened contest was fought out between the two nations.' This geographic specificity is one of the book’s strengths, grounding the narrative in physical landscapes rather than in abstract ethnic categories.

The Shifting Role of the Viking

Hull presents the viking not as a fixed type but as an evolving figure. Initially 'a bold adventurer,' the Norseman soon combined 'trading and raiding' as a settled practice. The excerpts show that Hull tracks this transformation through political changes, such as the policies of Harald Fairhair, first king of Norway (872–933), who prompted 'a nobler type of emigrant'—great lords and kings’ sons—to consolidate earlier settlements. The book thus resists a monolithic portrait of the Northman, instead showing how economic and political pressures reshaped Scandinavian activity in Britain over three centuries. Hull’s use of saga material, including the story of Gormliath ('the fairest of women, and best gifted in everything that was not in her own power'), adds a personal dimension to these broader shifts, though the excerpts leave unclear how fully she integrates such saga episodes into the larger argument.

Brian Boru and the Irish Theater

The most detailed excerpt concerns Brian Boru’s campaigns against the Northmen in Ireland. Hull describes Brian’s 'untiring war' to drive invaders from Munster, his victory at the Glen of the Gap, and his capture of the Danish fort of Dublin. The narrative includes vivid details: Brian’s son Morrogh pulling King Melmora from a yew tree, the division of spoils ('gold and silver ornaments and precious stones, goblets and buffalo horns'), and the reversal of fortunes whereby 'the foreigners became their slaves.' Hull also recounts Brian’s peacetime achievements—purchasing books, rebuilding churches, making bridges and causeways—before turning to the conspiracy that led to his downfall, sparked by the 'angry words of a jealous woman,' Gormliath. This section reads almost like a saga itself, with Hull drawing on Irish annals and Northern sources to create a dramatic, morally complex portrait of a ruler who both subdues and absorbs his enemies.

Readers should note that Hull’s work, published in 1913, reflects the scholarly conventions of its time: it assumes a unified national story and uses terms like 'race' and 'civilization' in ways that may feel dated. The book is best approached as a synthesis of early twentieth-century historical and philological research, not as a modern critical study. Those interested in the material culture of the Norse settlements or in recent archaeological findings will need to supplement Hull’s text with contemporary sources. Her strength lies in the clarity of her geographical framework and her willingness to let the voices of the sagas and annals speak directly to the reader.

There’s something grounding about tracing the old routes—the Norse and Danish footprints across Britain—and feeling how much soil remembers. It makes me think of another island’s layered past, where the same centuries left quieter, deeper marks. I often find myself reaching back to An Illustrated History of Ireland from AD 400 to 1800 — Themes and Context when I want that slower, older rhythm again.