It might be objected to the view that “Vínland hit Góða” originally meant “Insulæ Fortunatæ,” that several sorts of wild grape are found on the east coast of North America; it might therefore be believed that the Greenlanders really went so far and discovered these. Storm, indeed, assumed that the wild vine grew on the outer east coast of Nova Scotia; but he is unable to adduce any certain direct evidence of this, although he gives [1887, p. 48] a statement of the Frenchman Nicolas Denys in 1672, which points to the wild vine having grown in the interior of the country.[2] He also mentions several statements of recent date that wild-growing vines of one kind or another have been observed near Annapolis and in the interior of the country, but none on the south-east coast. Professor N. Wille informs me that in the latest survey of the flora of North America Vitis vulpina is specified as occurring in Nova Scotia; but nothing is said as to locality. The American botanist, M. L. Fernald [1910, pp. 19, f.], on the other hand, thinks that the wild vine (Vitis vulpina) is not certainly known to the east of the valley of the St. John in New Brunswick (see map, vol. i. p. 335), where it is rare and only found in the interior. From this we may conclude that even if it should really be found on the outer south-east coast of Nova Scotia, it must have been very rare there, and could not possibly have been a conspicuous feature which might have been especially mentioned along with the wheat. But even if we might assume that the saga was borne out to this extent, it would be one of those accidental coincidences which often occur. It must, of course, be admitted to be a strange chance that the world of classical legend should have fertile lands or islands far in the western ocean, and that Isidore should describe the self-grown vine and the unsown cornfields in these Fortunate Isles, and that long afterwards fertile lands and islands, where wild vines and various kinds of wild corn grew, should be discovered in the same quarter. Since we have the choice, it may be more reasonable to assume that the Icelanders got their wine from Isidore, or from the same vats that he drew his from, than that they fetched it from America. Again, even if the Greenlanders and Icelanders had found some berries on creepers in the woods—is it likely that they would have known them to be grapes? They cannot be expected to have had any acquaintance with the latter.[3] The author of the “Grönlendinga-þáttr” in the Flateyjarbók is so entirely ignorant of these things that he makes grapes grow in the winter and spring (like the fruits all the year round on the trees in the myth of the fortunate land in the west), and makes Leif’s companion Tyrker intoxicate himself by eating grapes (like the Irishmen in the Irish legends), and finally makes Leif cut down vine-trees (“vínvið”) and fell trees to load his ship, and at last fill the long-boat with grapes (as in the Irish legends); in the voyage of Thorvald Ericson they also collect grapes and vine-trees for a cargo, and Karlsevne took home with him “many costly things: vine-trees, grapes and furs.” It is scarcely likely that seafaring Greenlanders about 380 years earlier had any better idea of the vine than this saga-writer, and we hear nothing in Eric’s Saga about Leif or his companions having ever been in southern Europe. No doubt it is for this very reason that the “Grönlendinga-þáttr” makes a “southman,” Tyrker, find the grapes.
The wild wheat
Wheat is not a wild cereal native to America. It has therefore been supposed that the “self-sown wheat-fields” of Wineland might have been the American cereal maize. As this proved to be untenable, Professor Schübeler[4] proposed that it might have been the “wild rice,” also called “water oats” (Zizania aquatica), an aquatic plant that grows by rivers and lakes in North America. But apart from the fact that the plant grows in the water and has little resemblance to wheat, although the ripe ear is said to be like a wheat-ear, there is the difficulty that it is essentially an inland plant, which is not known in Nova Scotia. “Though it occurs locally in a few New England rivers, it attains its easternmost known limit in the lower reaches of the St. John in New Brunswick, being apparently unknown in Nova Scotia” [Fernald, 1910, p. 26]. For proving that Wineland was Nova Scotia it is therefore of even less use than the wine.
It results in consequence that the attempts made hitherto to bring the natural conditions of the east coast of North America into agreement with the saga’s description of Wineland[5] have not been able to afford any natural explanation of the striking juxtaposition of the two leading features of the latter, the wild vine and the self-sown wheat, which are identical with the two leading features in the description of the Insulæ Fortunatæ. If it were permissible to prove in this way that the ancient Norsemen reached the east coast of North America, then it might be concluded with almost equal right that the Greeks and Romans of antiquity were there; for they already had the same two features in their descriptions of the fortunate isles in the west. It should be remembered that wheat was not a commonly known cereal in the North, where it was not cultivated, and it would hardly be natural for the Icelanders to use that particular name for a wild species of corn. Both wheat and grapes or vines were to them foreign ideas, and the remarkable juxtaposition of these very two words shows that they came together from southern Europe, where, as has been said, we find them in Isidore, and where wine and wheat were important commercial products which one often finds mentioned together.
Encounters with the Skrælings in Wineland
If we now proceed further in the description of the Wineland voyages in the Saga of Eric the Red, we come to the encounters with the Skrælings. These encounters are, of course, three in number: first they come to see, then to trade, and then to fight; this again recalls the fairy-tale. The narrative itself of the battle with the Skrælings has borrowed features. The Skrælings’ catapults make one think of the civilised countries of Europe, where catapults (i.e., engines for throwing stones, mangonels) and Greek fire (?) were in use.[6]
Icelandic representation of the northern and western lands as connected
with one another, by Sigurd Stefansson, circa 1590 (Torfæus, 1706).
Cf. G. Storm, 1887, pp. 28, ff.
Catapults, which are also mentioned in the “King’s Mirror,” had a long beam or lever-arm, at the outer end of which was a bowl or sling, wherein was laid a heavy round stone, or more rarely a barrel of combustible material or the like [cf. O. Blom, 1867, pp. 103, f.]. In the “King’s Mirror” it is also stated that mineral coal (“jarðkol”) and sulphur were thrown; the stones for casting were also made of baked clay with pebbles in it. When these clay balls were slung out and fell, they burst in pieces, so that the enemy had nothing to throw back. The great black ball, which is compared to a sheep’s paunch, and which made such an ugly sound (report ?) when it fell that it frightened the Greenlanders, also reminds one strongly on the “herbrestr” (war-crash, report) which Laurentius Kálfsson’s saga [cap. 8 in “Biskupa Sögur,” i. 1858, p. 798] relates that Þrándr Fisiler,[7] from Flanders, produced at the court of Eric Magnusson in Bergen, at Christmas 1294. It “gives such a loud report that few men can bear to hear it; women who are with child and hear the crash are prematurely delivered, and men fall from their seats on to the floor, or have various fits. Thránd told Laurentius to put his fingers in his ears when the crash came.... Thránd showed Laurentius what was necessary to produce the crash, and there are four things: fire, brimstone, parchment and tow.[8] Men often have recourse in battle to such a war-crash, so that those who do not know it may take to flight.” Laurentius was a priest, afterwards bishop (1323-30) in Iceland; the saga was probably written about 1350 by his friend and confidant, the priest Einar Hafliðason. It seems as though we have here precisely the same notions as appear in the description of the fight with the Skrælings. It is true that this visit of Thránd to Bergen would be later than the Saga of Eric the Red is generally assumed to have been written; but this may have been about 1300. Besides, there is no reason why the story of the “herbrestr” should not have found its way to Iceland earlier.[9] In any case this part of the tale of the Wineland voyages has quite a European air.
For the rest, this feature too seems to have a connection with the “Navigatio Brandani.” It is there related that they approach an island of smiths, where the inhabitants are filled with fire and darkness. Brandan was afraid of the island; one of the inhabitants came out of his house “as though on an errand of necessity”; the brethren want to sail away and escape, but