In three years’ time Anlafsbyr was a thriving settlement. The omens had promised good luck and the good luck came. Meanwhile Ketil, the son of Anlaf, chose himself a wife from Riplingham. So did others for themselves; and some, not finding the looks of the maidens of Hessle and Beverley and Weighton and Riplingham to their liking, went farther afield and made raids on the villages of Hotham and Sancton, only to retire with several cracked heads and broken arms for their pains.
But this was an exception to the general rule. In most cases the Anglian maidens were quite willing to wed the handsome strangers, even if their language was at first difficult to understand, and their methods of wooing somewhat rough and unpolished. In fact they rather approved of the roughness than disapproved of it, and to be singled out for one’s good looks and carried off by one of those bold Northmen was something for a maiden to be proud of.
The result of the frequent marriages between the Northmen and the Angles quickly became apparent. Husband and wife spoke languages sufficiently alike for one to make out the other’s meaning in most cases. But the children were, quite naturally, brought up to speak the tongue of their mother and not that of their father; so that as time went on the language of the Northmen disappeared, or rather became merged in the language of the Angles. Thus although Anlaf and his karls spoke the Norse tongue, their grandchildren spoke the English. But for all that, they lived in the Danelagh, where Danish customs and Danish laws were observed.
When Anlaf died in 871, Ketil Anlafsson began to rule his father’s settlement. His two sons, Ulf and Hrafn, went, as custom decreed they ought to go, on Viking raids as soon as they reached the manly age of fifteen or sixteen. Four years of these raids sufficed to prove the prowess of Ulf Ketilsson, and his right eventually to succeed his father as jarl. Then he settled down to help his father, who had become a man past middle age; but Hrafn his brother continued at sea. In 890 Ketil Anlafsson died, and his son Ulf was proclaimed jarl. Hrafn was then away. But now in the Spring of 892 he has just returned, to be honoured by all men as the first among them to make the perilous voyage to an island lying far to the north-west, whose name was spoken of as ‘Iceland.’
Great therefore are the rejoicings at Anlafsbyr. Jarl Ulf has ridden at full speed to the river-shore on hearing that three ships have been sighted coming up the river with red, blue and green sails like those of his brother’s ships. Before he leaves home he has given instructions to his wife Helga that the hall is to be got ready for a great feast in case the ships are his brother’s. A messenger has quickly brought back the good tidings, and preparations are being pushed on rapidly, that the welcome Hrafn and his men receive shall be one fitting to the occasion.
Let us now glance round the hall built by Anlaf and see what it is like.
Picture to yourself an oblong hall built entirely of wood, and with a steep roof supported by upright and cross beams. It is built east and west and at each end is a door, one the men’s door, the other the women’s door. Along each side there is a low aisle, which is partitioned off into small sleeping-rooms for the jarl’s family and guests.
Down the middle of the hall are long stone hearths on which are smouldering three fires of wood and turf. Above each fire is a hole in the roof through which the smoke makes its escape after eddying round the rafters, which are covered with a thick layer of soot. The windows are high up, of just sufficient size for a man’s body to be able to squeeze through, and the holes are covered with the membrane obtained from the inside of a cow, which is almost as transparent as glass.
Along the hall will be two long tables, constructed of planks resting upon trestles. At the middle of the south side stands the high seat of the jarl, and opposite it is another which is always reserved for the most honoured guest. Thralls in white woollen clothes are now running hither and thither placing the long tables in position, and coaxing the smouldering fires into a big roaring blaze; for the nights are still very cold.