“ ‘Some time after, the Southern parts, with the inhabitants of Oxford and Winchester, were brought to honour his’—that is to say King Sweyn’s—‘laws: the Citizens of London alone, with their lawful King’—Ethelred the Second—‘betook themselves within the walls, having securely closed the gates. Against their ferocious assailants, the Danes, they were supported by their virtue, and the hope of glory. The Citizens rushed forward even to death for their liberty; for none could think himself secure of the future if the King were deserted, in whose life he committed his own: so that although the conflict was valiant on both sides, yet the Citizens had the victory from the justness of their cause; every one endeavouring to shew, throughout this great work, how sweet he estimated those pains which he bore for him. The enemy was partly overthrown; and part was destroyed in the River Thames, over which, in their precipitation and fury, they never looked for the Bridge.’
“I know very well that the truth of this circumstance is much questioned by Master Maitland, at page 43 of his ‘History of London,’ continued by the Rev. John Entick, London, 1772, folio, volume i.; wherein he denies that any historian mentions a Bridge at London, in the incursion of Anlaf or Sweyn; and asserts that the loss of the army of the latter was occasioned ‘by his attempting to pass the River, without enquiring after Ford, or Bridge.’ He affirms too, that Stow mistakes the account given by William of Malmesbury; and that the Monk himself distorts his original authority in saying that the invaders had not a regard to the Bridge. Now, if, as the margin of Maitland’s History states, the Saxon Chronicle were that authority, the Library-keeper of Malmesbury had no greater right to speak as Maitland does, than he had for using those words which I have already translated—‘part were destroyed in the River Thames, over which, in their precipitation and fury, they never looked for the Bridge:’ for the words of the Saxon Chronicle, at page 170, are, in reality—‘And they closely besieged the City and would fain have set it on fire, but they sustained more harm and evil than they ever supposed that the Citizens could inflict on them. The Holy Mother of God’—for the Invasion took place on her Nativity, September the 8th—‘on that day considered the Citizens, and ridded them of their enemies.’ Here then is no word of a Bridge, nor, indeed, does any Historian record the event as William of Malmesbury does. Lambarde—whom I shall quote anon—when he relates it, cites the ‘Chronicle of Peterborough,’ and the ‘Annals of Margan,’ but neither of them have the word Bridge upon their pages. He, most probably, took this circumstance from Marianus Scotus, a Monk of Mentz, in Germany, who wrote an extensive History of England and Europe ending in 1083, but, of this, only the German part has been printed, although it was amazingly popular in manuscript.
“We have, however, an earlier description of London Bridge in a state of warlike splendour, than is commonly imagined, or at least referred to, by most Antiquaries; and that too from a source of no inconsiderable authority: for the learned old Icelander Snorro Sturlesonius, who wrote in the 13th century, and who was assassinated in 1241, on page 90 of that rather rare work by the Rev. James Johnstone, entitled ‘Antiquitates Celto-Scandicæ,’ Copenhagen, 1786, quarto, gives the following very interesting particulars of the Battle of Southwark, which took place in the year 1008, in the unhappy reign of Ethelred II., surnamed the Unready.
“ ‘They’—that is the Danish forces—‘first came to shore at London, where their ships were to remain, and the City was taken by the Danes. Upon the other side of the River, is situate a great market called Southwark,’—Sudurvirke in the original—‘which the Danes fortified with many defences; framing, for instance, a high and broad ditch, having a pile or rampart within it, formed of wood, stone, and turf, with a large garrison placed there to strengthen it. This, the King Ethelred,’—his name, you know, is Adalradr in the original—‘attacked and forcibly fought against; but by the resistance of the Danes it proved but a vain endeavour. There was, at that time, a Bridge erected over the River between the City and Southwark, so wide, that if two carriages met they could pass each other. At the sides of the Bridge, at those parts which looked upon the River, were erected Ramparts and Castles that were defended on the top by penthouse-bulwarks and sheltered turrets, covering to the breast those who were fighting in them: the Bridge itself was also sustained by piles which were fixed in the bed of the River. An attack therefore being made, the forces occupying the Bridge fully defended it. King Ethelred being thereby enraged, yet anxiously desirous of finding out some means by which he might gain the Bridge, at once assembled the Chiefs of the army to a conference on the best method of destroying it. Upon this, King Olaf engaged,’—for you will remember he was an ally of Ethelred—‘that if the Chiefs of the army would support him with their forces, he would make an attack upon it with his ships. It being ordained then in council, that the army should be marched against the Bridge, each one made himself ready for a simultaneous movement both of the ships and of the land forces.’
“I must here entreat your patience, Mr. Geoffrey Barbican, to follow the old Norwegian through the consequent battle; for although he gives us no more scenery of London Bridge, yet he furnishes us with a minute account of its destruction, and of a conflict upon it, concerning which all our own historians are, in general, remarkably silent. I say too, with Falstaff, ‘play out the play;’ for I have yet much to say on the behalf of that King Olaf, who, we shall find, is the patron protector of yonder Church at the South-East corner of London Bridge, since he died a Saint and a Martyr. Snorro Sturleson then, having cleared the way for the forcing of London Bridge on the behalf of King Ethelred, thus begins his account of the action, entitling it, in the Scandinavian tongue, Orrosta, or the fight. ‘King Olaf, having determined on the construction of an immense scaffold, to be formed of wooden poles and osier twigs, set about pulling down the old houses in the neighbourhood for the use of the materials. With these Vinea, therefore,’—as such defences were anciently termed—‘he so enveloped his ships, that the scaffolds extended beyond their sides; and they were so well supported, as to afford not only a sufficient space for engaging sword in hand, but also a base firm enough for the play of his engines, in case they should be pressed upon from above. The Fleet, as well as the forces, being now ready, they rowed towards the Bridge, the tide being adverse; but no sooner had they reached it, than they were violently assailed from above with a shower of missiles and stones, of such immensity that their helmets and shields were shattered, and the ships themselves very seriously injured. Many of them, therefore, retired. But Olaf the King and his Norsemen having rowed their ships close up to the Bridge, made them fast to the piles with ropes and cables, with which they strained them, and the tide seconding their united efforts, the piles gradually gave way, and were withdrawn from under the Bridge. At this time, there was an immense pressure of stones and other weapons, so that the piles being removed, the whole Bridge brake down, and involved in it’s fall the ruin of many. Numbers, however, were left to seek refuge by flight: some into the City, others into Southwark. And now it was determined to attack Southwark: but the Citizens seeing their River Thames occupied by the enemy’s navies, so as to cut off all intercourse that way with their interior provinces, were seized with fear, and having surrendered the City, received Ethelred as King. In remembrance of this expedition thus sang Ottar Suarti.’
“And