It has been conjectured by some, that the island took its name from the lake Lothing, but, I apprehend, without any foundation; it seeming more probable that both the island and lake derived their names from Lothbrock, a noble Dane, whose descendants, in order to perpetuate his memory, gave to this part of the kingdom of the East Angles—frequently the seat of war in their descents on the British coast—the name of Luddingland, Lovingland, Luthingland, or as it is now called Lothingland.
This Lothbroth was of royal race, and had two sons, named Ingwar and Hubba. It happened once, as he was alone in a boat hawking for birds near the island on the coast of Denmark, that he was driven by a sudden tempest across the German Ocean and was carried into the mouth of the Yare up as far as Reedham. The inhabitants of the country having discovered the stranger they brought him to Edmund, king of the East Angles, whose palace was at Caister, about ten miles from thence. The king was astonished at the man’s figure and fortune, and received him with a countenance and behaviour so engaging that Lothbroch relinquished every desire of returning to his own country again, and was so delighted also with the diversions of the courtiers, particularly that of hunting that he oftentimes accompanied Berno the king’s huntsman, in that amusement, in order to become more expert in it; and in a short time made such great proficiency therein, and so far excited the envy of his master that having seduced him into a wood under the pretence of hunting, he privately murdered him. While Lothbroch was missing, a vigilant greyhound which he had kept, guarded his body; but being at last stimulated with hunger he sometimes visited the royal palace, which being observed by the servants, it excited their curiosity to follow him on his return, and they presently discovered the murdered body of Lothbroch. Berno being suspected, was apprehended and found guilty of the crime, and was sentenced, by the order of the king’s court, to be put alone into Lothbroch’s boat, and without a compass or any other instrument was committed to the mercy of the wind and waves which fortunately carried him to Denmark. The boat being there known he was suspected of having been accessary to the death of Lothbroch; and being examined upon the rack concerning it, he affirmed that the murder was committed by Edmund, king of the East Angles.
The Danes having resolved to revenge the death of Lothbroch upon King Edmund and his subjects, levied an army of 20,000 men, made Ingwar and Hubba (the sons of Lothbroch) commanders in chief of the expedition; and having made every necessary preparation for the voyage, and taken Berno with them as a leader, who knew the country, they immediately embarked and set sail for East England in the year 865, in the tenth year of King Edmund’s reign; but meeting with contrary winds they were driven ashore at Berwick upon Tweed, in Scotland, where having committed the most violent outrages, and in some measure gratified their revenge for the murder of Lothbroch, they soon after returned home. But in the following year the relentless Danes re-visited our coasts, when after burning and destroying all they could meet with, and also having greatly harassed and had frequent skirmishes with King Edmund’s army, they returned to their own country. The year after, the Danes again renewed their descents on the British coast, and so far succeeded in their enterprises against King Edmund, that they reduced him to the utmost distress; for surrounding him in a certain place in the Island, where he was so inclosed with marshes and rivers, that it was almost impossible for him to escape, he was left to this dreadful alternative, either to surrender to his enemies or fight his way through them. Having resolved upon the latter, he sought out a place most convenient for his design, and having at last discovered a ford (which was called Berneford, from Berno,) and now called Barnby, he passed it, and falling furiously upon his enemies, he routed them with a great slaughter, and compelled them to return immediately to Denmark. [3] In the succeeding year, the Danes returned again to England, and having committed the most horrid ravages in divers part of it, they came to Ely, where Hubba being left to guard their spoil, Ingwar, with his army entered East England, when, after committing many barbarous cruelties at Thetford, he sent a message to King Edmund, who was then at Eglesdune (now Hoxne, in Suffolk), proposing to him that if he would renounce christianity, pay adoration to his idols, and become his vassal and servant, he would then divide not only his treasure but also his kingdom with him. No sooner did the king receive this message than he marched with his whole army against the Danes and engaging them at a place not far from Thetford, the contending armies fought with great obstinacy from morning till evening, and great numbers were slain on both sides, when the Danes retreated from the field of battle. But the pious king was so exceedingly affected at the fate of so many martyrs who had shed their blood in this battle in defence of the christian faith as well as for the unhappy end for such a numerous body of Pagans that he returned with the shattered remains of his army to Eglesdune with a resolution excited by religious considerations never to engage any more in battle with the Pagans, but if it was necessary to appease their rancour by yielding himself up as a sacrifice for his people and for his christian faith. The army belonging to Ingwar was much diminished from the loss he sustained in this battle; but receiving information of Edmund’s retreat he instantly proceeded to Thetford, where, being joined by Hubba with 10,000 men, the brothers united their forces and pursued the unhappy king to Eglesdune, where, taking him prisoner he was martyred in the year 871, in the 29th year of his reign; and with him expired the kingdom of the East Angles.
After the death of Edmund, the Danes settled themselves in Lothingland, to which tract of land they are supposed to have given that name, in remembrance of their ancestor Lothbroch.
The following tradition respecting the death of King Edmund, is current in the parish of Hoxne to this day; namely, that the King, after he had relinquished every intention of opposing the Danes any farther, in consequence of the horrid carnage which the numerous contests between them had occasioned, fled to this village for safety, but finding himself closely pursued by his enemies, was obliged for security, to conceal himself under a bridge in that parish, now called Gold Bridge, so named from the gilt spurs which the king happened to have on whilst there concealed. A newly-married couple that were returning home in the evening, saw, by moonlight, the king’s spurs glitter in the water, and immediately discovered him to the Danes, who instantly put him to death. The king, in the warmth of resentment, pronounced a curse upon every couple that should afterwards pass over this bridge to be married. A superstitious regard is paid to this sentence even to this day; as not one will pass over the bridge in their way to the parish church on that occasion. It is now about a thousand years since the event happened, and is a remarkable instance of the length of time which traditions in parishes are sometimes continued.
The Danes, when they got the king into their possession, endeavoured to prevail with him to renounce the christian faith; which he refusing to do, they first scourged him with whips, and afterwards bound him to a stake and shot him to death with arrows. He was first buried in an obscure wooden chapel at Eglesdune (now Hoxne), but being afterwards esteemed a martyr, and canonized by the Church, his bones were removed to Bury St. Edmund’s, where a magnificent abbey was erected to his memory.
It appears from that ancient survey of the landed property of this kingdom, the Book of Domesday, that the fee of this hundred was originally in the crown, for that record informs us that Earl Guert [4a] held Gorleston, (and probably the whole island), in the reign of Edward the Confessor; and describing the extent and property of this manor in the time of Edward, and comparing them with the survey made in the reign of William the Conqueror, it says it contained five carucates of land; that there were then twenty villains, now only twelve; five bornars, then five servants, now only four; then two carucates in demesne, now but one; then cattle for five carucates of land, now only three; then two workhouses, now none; ten acres of meadow land, three salt pans, wood for five hogs, always three hundred sheep, and twenty-four fishermen at Yarmouth.
Both history and tradition informs us that some centuries since, there were numerous and violent disputes between the lords of this island and the men of Great Yarmouth, respecting the privileges of that burgh; and whereas it was alleged that those privileges had been greatly infringed by the said lords of the island.
King John in the ninth year of his reign, granted the burgesses of Yarmouth a charter, whereby it was created a free burgh, the burgesses were thereby invested with many valuable commercial privileges, and empowered to hold it in fee farm [4b] paying to the king and fisheries an annual rent of £55 for ever; for payment whereof they had nothing but the customs arising out of the port, not being allowed to receive any custom of goods bought or sold in the market in Lothingland at any time of the year.
Soon after the granting of this charter, the burgh of Great Yarmouth became most flourishing, and made a more respectable figure in trade and commerce than before; and whilst Yarmouth and Lothingland were both holden in the king’s hands, no disputes about customs arose betwixt them, nor do any records now extant mention any suits about them, payable at this or that place, but as the charter had invested the men of Yarmouth with the sole property of their land, as well as their merchandise, they sought to monopolize the trade to themselves, and to hinder the king’s tenants of Lothingland from enjoying any part with them. [4c]