The Vikings coming ashore in America.
In trees all over the world, scientists have found traces of a single solar storm. This lets us pinpoint the exact time a tree was cut down to build a house at L’Anse aux Meadows, in Newfoundland.
Gaelic version below.
I heard of a silk shirt,
made across six lands.
One sleeve in Ireland,
the other far to the north in Finland.
Girls from Saxony began it,
it was woven in the Hebrides.
A Frankish woman wore it on her wedding day,
and it was woven on the loom of Óþjóðan’s mother.
(From Örvar-Odds Saga, 13th century.)
There is a grave at Cnip, in Lewis—a Viking woman’s grave. No one else was buried nearby. It wasn’t a cemetery, just sand and sea.
She lay there for a thousand years, buried with a comb, a knife, beads, and other items around her. And slowly, over time, all the memory of it disappeared.
No one now remembers who she was, what she looked like, what made her smile, or what she hoped to find in life.
But someone must have missed her at the time. Perhaps they buried her there and then left the island, watching the coastline fade behind them as they sailed north—to the Faroe Islands or to Iceland, maybe.
Or perhaps they returned to Norway. In her grave, archaeologists found a piece of cloth—a weaving pattern and technique that was common in Norway at that time.
There are a few references to the Hebrides in the Norse Eddas and sagas. Some even believe you can hear traces of Gaelic in the language of Iceland itself—that there are place-names which didn’t come from Norse, but from Gaelic.
It’s thought that the woman buried at Cnip lived in the 10th century. Now, evidence shows that another group of Norse people built a house for themselves in North America around that same time—in the year 1021. In my mind, there’s a connection between those people and their stories.
In trees all over the world, scientists have found traces of a single solar storm. This lets us pinpoint the exact season when a tree was cut down to build a house at L’Anse aux Meadows, in Newfoundland.
That’s what you’re looking at in this photograph.
(Photo by Petra Doeve, The New York Times.) You can read more about the science behind this discovery in Nature Magazine—I’ll leave a link at the end of the post.
We already knew the Norse reached America long before Columbus, but this evidence confirms when it happened. The story itself was already written down in two sagas (the Vinland sagas).
But even with this proof, it shows how hard it is to change a story once it’s taken hold of people’s minds. For example, that Columbus ‘discovered’ America.
It also shows a particular way of thinking about land—that Columbus could ‘discover’ a place where the Aztecs had already built cities long before he arrived. This is Tenochtitlan, the Aztec capital, in 1519.
How many of us know Thorstein, Aud, Erik, and Leif Eriksson as well as we know Columbus, Isabella, and Ferdinand?
But the evidence remains. The truth of the story rises to the surface eventually. It’s strange to think that events from a solar storm could leave such clear traces in the materials we use—in our houses, in our tools—and that we now have the understanding to make sense of it all.
It’s remarkable, really, to feel so close to those people. To know the exact year someone felled a tree to build a house at L’Anse aux Meadows, and everything that came with that moment—someone searching for a place, a home, warmth.
I think, in a similar way, you can hear echoes of Gaelic—of its people, its language and its placenames - running through this story too. This is the first part of the ‘Saga of Erik’.
SAGA OF ERIK (Part One)
There was once a king named Olaf the White, son of King Ingjald. Olaf went to Britain, where he took control of Dublin. He married Aud, daughter of Ketil Flatnose, and they had a son named Thorstein the Red.
Olaf was killed in Ireland, and then Thorstein and Aud travelled to the Hebrides in Scotland. Alongside Earl Sigurd, Thorstein took control of Caithness, Sutherland, Moray, and half of Argyll.
Thorstein was later killed when the Scots turned against him. Aud was in Caithness when she heard of his death.
She secretly built a ship in the middle of a forest, and when it was ready, she sailed to Orkney, and then to Iceland, with twenty men on board.
Many noble people from Britain, now enslaved, travelled with her to Iceland. One of them was a man named Vifil, whom Aud freed.
Erik the Red was the son of Thorvald and Aud. He married a woman named Thjodhild, and they had two sons—Thorstein and Leif.
And Leif Eriksson found a place no one had known before. There were fields of wild wheat, and grapevines, and among the trees were maple trees. The rivers were full of countless fish, and the forests full of animals of every kind.
They took samples of what they found. And they named the place Vinland.
You can see those connections appearing in words written long ago, in the time of the raiders. As the writer Stephen King once said, writing is a form of telepathy. In good writing, he says, you see exactly what the writer saw.
We can read the words of these people, and in them, we can see for ourselves how Gaelic is woven through everything in this story—just like it was woven through the piece of poetry I quoted at the start of this piece.
You can read more about the science behind this in Nature Magazine:
GAELIC VERSION
“Chuala mi mu lèine sìoda
a chaidh a dhèanamh ann an sia tìrean
aon ghàirdean ann an Eirinn
t’ èile ann an Suòmaidh fada gu tuath
Thòisich clann-nighean à Sasainn e
Chaidh fhighe anns na h-Innse Gall
Chosg Frangach e air an latha a phòs i,
chaidh a dhèanamh air crann-deilbh màthair Óþjóðan.”
“Serk of frák ór silki
ok í sex stöðum gervan: ermr á Íralandi,
önnur norðr með Finnum, slógu Saxa meyjar,
en suðreyskar spunnu, váfu valskar brúðir,
varp Óþjóðans móðir.”
Sàga Örvar-Odds (13mh linn deug)
Tha uaigh ann an Cnip ann an Leòdhas, boireannach Lochlannach. Cha robh duine eile air an amhlaiceadh faisg oirre, chan e cladh a bh’ ann. Càil ach gainmheach agus muir.
Laigh i an sin airson mìle bliadhna, le cìr, sgian, grìogagan ga cuairteachadh agus air a shocair, thòisich tìm a sguabadh a h-uile càil dhen sin às.
Chan eil cuimhne aig duine a-nis cò i agus dè an coltas a bh’ oirre, dè bheireadh gàire oirre, dè a bha i an dòchas faighinn à a cuid beatha.
Ach bha cuideigin ga h-ionndrainn aig an àm. ’S mathaid gun do thiodhlaic iad an sin i agus gun do dh’fhàg iad an t-eilean an uair sin, a’ coimhead an costa a’ dol a-mach à sealladh air an cùlaibh, air an t-slighe gu tuath. Na h-Eileanan Fàro agus Innis Tìle, ‘ s mathaid.
No ’s mathaid gun do thill iad air ais a Lochlann. Lorg iad pìos clò anns an uaigh sin, pàtran agus dòigh fighe a bha gu math cumanta ann an Nirribhidh aig an àm.
Tha gu leòr iomradh ri lorg air na h-Innse Gall ann an Eddas agus Sàgas nan Lochlannach. Thathas a’ smaoineachadh gu bheil iad ’s mathaid a’ coimhead fathann de Ghàidhlig cuideachd ann an cànan Innis Tìle, ’s gu bheil ainmean-àite ann ’s nach ann bho Lochlannais a thàinig iad, ach bhon Ghàidhlig.
Thathas a’ smaoineachadh gun robh am boireannach sin a chaidh a thiodhlaicheadh ann an Cnip beò anns an 10mh linn. Thathas a-nis air dearbhadh gun do thog cuideigin eile, Lochlannach eile, taigh dhaibh fhèin ann an Americaidh timcheall air an àm sin - ann an 1021. Nam cheann, tha ceangal ann eadar na daoine sin agus an cuid sgeulachd.
Chìthear ann an craobhan air feadh an t-soghail, làrach bhon an t-aon stoirm grèine. Tha seo a’ leigeil dhuinn dearbhadh dè dìreach an ràith a bh’ ann, nuair a leag cuideigin a’ chraobh seo gus taigh a dhèanamh dhaibh pèin ann an L’ Anse aux Meadows ann an Talamh an Èisg.
Seo e anns an dealbh seo.
Dealbh le Petra Doeve (The New York Times.)
Gheibhear airtigeal mu dheidhinn an saidheans air cùlaibh seo ann an ‘Nature Magazine’ - fàgaidh mi ceangal aig bonn a’ bhlog.
Bha fios againn gu robh na Lochlannaich ann an Ameireaga fada ro Cholumbus, ach cha robh e air a dhearbhadh buileach cuin dìreach a bha sin. Bha an sgeulachd cuideachd sgrìobhte ann an dà Sàga (na Sgeulachdan mu dheidhinn Vinland).
Ach fiù ‘s leis am fios seo, tha e a’ sealltainn cho duilich ‘s a tha e sgeulachdan atharrachadh nuair a gheibh e greum air inntinn dhaoine. Mar eiseimplair, gun do lorg Columbus Ameireaga.
Tha e a’ sealltainn dòigh smaoineachaidh sònraichte cuideachd a thaobh tìreachais, ag ràdh gur e Columbus a lorg Ameireaga nuair a bha na Aztecs air bailtean mar seo a thogail mus do nochd e. Seo prìomh bhaile nan Aztecs, Tenochtitlan, ann an 1519.
Cò againn a tha cho eòlach air Thorstein, Aug, Eirik agus Leif Eirkisson, ’s a tha sinn air Columbus, Isabela agus Ferdinand?
Ach lorgaidh tu làrach, fathast, Thig fìrinn na sgeòil chun na h-uachdar uaireigin. Nach annasach gu bheil tachartasan a tha aig ìre stoirm grèine, a’ fàgail làraich domhainn anns na rudan a tha sinn a’ cleachdadh, na taighean againn, na baill-achfhuinn againn. Agus gu bheil an tuigse againn ciall a dhèanamh dheth uile.
Tha e mìorbhaileach, a bhith a’ faireachdainn cho faisg air na daoine sin, ’s gu bheil fios againn air cuin dìreach a leag neach craobh gus taigh a dhèanamh ann an l’Anse aux Meadows, agus a h-uile càil a tha a’ dol le sin, cuideigin a’ lorg àite dhaibh fhèin, dachaigh agus blàths’.
Tha mise a’ smaoineachadh, anns an t-aon dòigh, gun lorg thu mac-talla dhen Ghàidhlig, na daoine agus an cànan, a’ ruith tron sgeulachd seo - an t-àm ann an sgeulachd Mhic an Duine, nuair a chuairtich sinn an t-saoghal airson a’ chiad uair.
Chì thu na ceangalaichean sin a’ nochdadh ann am facail a chaidh a sgrìobhadh bho chionn ùine nan creach. A rèir an sgrìobhadair Stephen King, tha sgrìobhadh coltach ri nàdar ‘telepathy’. Ann an deagh sgrìobhadh, tha e ag ràdh, chì thu an dearbh rud a chunnaic an sgrìobhadair.
Faodaidh sinn fhìn leughadh facail na daoine seo, agus chì sinn fhìn mar a tha a’ Ghàidhlig air a shnìomh tron h-uile càil anns an sgeulachd seo, dìreach mar a bha e air a shnìomh anns a’ chiad pìos bàrdachd a dh’ainmich sinn aig toiseach a’ phìos seo.
Tha mi fhìn a’ smaoineachadh gum biodh e rudeigin neònach mura biodh Gàidhlig aig màthair Leif Eirikson. Dè ar beachd fhèin?
SÀGA EIRIK
(a’ chiad phàirt)
Bha Rìgh ann leis an ainm Olaf Bàn, mac Rìgh Ingjald. Chaidh Olaf gu Breatainn, far an do ghabh e Baile à Cliath thairis. Phòs e Aud, an nighean aig Ketil Sròn-Còmhnard agus ’s e Thorstein Ruadh am mac aca.
Chaidh Olaf a mharbhadh ann an Eirinn agus chaidh an uair sin Thorstein agus Aug chun na h-Innse Gall ann an Alba. Còmhla ri Morair Sigurd, ghabh Thorstein thairis Gallaibh, Cataibh, Moireabh agus leth de dh’Earra-ghaidheal.
Chaidh Thorstein a mharbhadh nuair a thrèig na h-Albannaich e. Agus bha Aud ann an Gallaibh nuair a chuala i mu chuid bàs.
Thog i bàta gu dìomhair, ann am meadhan choille agus nuair a bha i deiseil, sheòl i gu Arcaibh agus an uair sin Innis Tìle, le fichead duine air bòrd.
Thàinig iomadach neach uasal à Breatainn a bha a-nis nan tràillean, còmhla rithe gu Innis Tìle. Bha aon fhear ann, Vifil an t-ainm a bh’ air, agus thug Aud a chuid saorsa dha.
Agus is e Eirik Ruadh am mac aig Thorvald agus Aud. Phòs Eirik boireannach leis an ainm Thjodhold agus bha dà mhac aca - Thorstein agus Leif.
Agus lorg Leif Eiriksonn àite air nach robh duine eòlach. Bha achaidhean ann de chruithneachd fhiadhaich, agus crainn-fìonna, agus am-measg nan craobhan bha craobhan-mhalpais. Bha iasg nach gabhadh cunntadh ann an gach abhainn agus anns na coilltean, beathaichean de iomadach seòrsa.
Agus thug iad leotha taghadh dhe na lorg iad. Agus ‘s e Vinland a thug iad air.
DEIREADH.
Seo agaibh ceangal gu Nature Magazine far an leugh sibh mun saidheans :
Tapadh leibh! / þökk!
(Tha mi an dòchas gur e seann Lochlannais a th’ ann an sin.)