Pages

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

The Normans in Normandy: When did the Vikings become Norman?

There are paradoxes in the history of tenth-century ‘Normandy’: violent invasion, but in the longer term a settlement which preserved many essentially Carolingian features… In the end, we must think of a fusion of cultures.”[1]  The Viking settlers took up the Frankish customs way of life so completely that within a few generations of their arrival little of their Viking heritage remained. One explanation for this is that the number of settlers was few and that they were quickly absorbed into the local population. Or perhaps there was a brief violent takeover, after which the Vikings adopted the customs of their neighbours out of necessity and political pressure.

Contemporary Latin sources called these settlers Northmanni but this described both the Vikings and, much later, the Normans. It was a general term used to describe the Scandinavians who had become active in northern Francia in the ninth and tenth centuries. But no distinction was made in the tenth century between the Vikings of Neustria and the Vikings in other parts of the rest of Francia and elsewhere.  The major problem with uncovering the history of the early Viking settlement of Neustria is the lack of sources from the early decades of the tenth century, when the settlement was formalised. The Vikings recorded their history later and the sources we do have are written by the Franks. The later Norman histories are problematic because of their interest in buttressing and legitimate the infant state[2].   The sources viewed the tenth-century as a violent time. Frankish lords fought for political dominance and, on the fringes of the Frankish kingdom, smaller groups of peoples fought for supremacy against each other and against the Franks. In the ninth-century, mobile Viking forces had often sailed up the Seine and besieged Paris, or simply ravaged areas inside Francia.  It is hard to tell where these war-bands wintered, though it becomes clear in the annals that the gains for Viking raiders were so great that they began to winter in Francia instead of returning to Scandinavia.

In the early part of the tenth-century, the Neustrian or Breton March was still regarded as part of the Frankish kingdom by the Franks. The Viking raids reached their height during a period of instability in the Frankish kingdoms. An element of luck had played a part in allowing the Frankish kings to rule over an undivided kingdom for many years, in spite of the custom of dividing lands equally between sons on the death of their father. Peppin the Short, Carloman his son and Charlemagne his grandson ruled over an unbroken kingdom. But on the death of Charlemagne’s son Louis the Pious in 840, Francia was at last split. There was a period of fragmentation, with Francia divided into three kingdoms: West Francia, Lotharingia, and East Francia. Charles the Simple, King of West Francia (later to become France) from 898 to 922, regained pre-eminence in the Frankish lands after this period of struggle, though other factions existed. It was this political instability that Viking leaders exploited as they fought and befriended their Frankish counterparts.

How do the chronicles help?

Historians who attempt to reconstruct the early history of Normandy face a number of problems[3]. The sources are few and, worse still, their accuracy is often to be doubted. Palgrave[4] warned that “if you accept the task you must accept Dudo or let the work alone.” Today, the chronicle of Dudo of St Quentin is viewed with so much suspicion by historians that, even where his account tallies with other contemporary writers, he is still distrusted. But without Dudo we have little evidence. The Frankish historian Flodoard of Reims[5] provides some information about Normandy in the first half of the ninth-century, there are a few references to early Normandy in Scandinavian sources and even a late Welsh source. Later Norman sources for this period do exist, but many of these are based on Dudo’s account, so must be treated with caution. With such a lack of literary material, historians are left with the results of research from archaeology and analysis of place-name. The interpretation of archaeological evidence is difficult and the conclusions that can be drawn from it can be even vaguer than literary sources. The historian’s task in chronicling early Norman history is thus a difficult one, and the conclusions reached are, by necessity, limited in nature.

Dudo of St Quentin was born c. 960 in Vermandois. He wrote De moribus et actis primorum Normanniæ ducum (The Deeds of the Early Dukes of Normandy) from about 996 to the time he became Dean of St Quentin in 1015[6]. The earlier history, including some highly questionable and fictional details, was based on Virgil’s Aeneid and Jordanes’ Getica. His main informant for the details of his history was Count Rodulf of Ivry. Commissioned originally by Duke Richard I, the chronicle ended with the death of Richard in 996[7]. Dudo appears to know a great deal about Rollo[8], and he is the only source for the Treaty of Saint-Clair-sur-Epte, where Charles the Simple granted Rollo the lands around Rouen in 911. Rollo is baptised and, in return, receives the grant of land.  The bishops said to Rollo, who was unwilling to kiss King Charles’s foot: “You who receive such a gift ought to kiss the king’s foot.” And he said: “I shall never bend my knees to another, nor shall I kiss anyone’s foot.” Compelled, however, by the prayers of the Franks, he ordered one of his soldiers to kiss the king’s foot. The man immediately seized the king’s foot, put it to his mouth and kissed it while the king was still standing. The king fell flat on his back. This raised a great laugh and greatly stirred up the crowd.”  A great story, but almost certainly a legend. Dudo was the official chronicler of the Rollonid dynasty, and he portrays Rollo as the leader of the Vikings in many campaigns and battles, perhaps too many for historians to believe it. The facts of Rollo’s early years as leader of the early Normans are therefore lost in the illusion of later myths. Nonetheless, some of the essential details in Dudo’s story have some validity. Though Dudo is the only source who dates the agreement between Rollo and Charles at 911, this does appear to be a highly plausible date for the agreement.

It is unclear when Viking raiders began to settle in the coastal area, but there is some evidence from the few documents that survive from this period. A Carolingian charter of 905 records Charles the Simple’s grant of two serfs of the Crown from the pagus of Rouen to his chancellor Ernestus. This was the last royal charter in Normandy.  Three months later, some idea of the turmoil in the region can be concluded from a charter of 906 that records the transfer of relics from Saint-Marcouf (now in Manche, Basse-Normandie) to Corbény “because of the excessive and prolonged attacks of the pagans.”   In 918, Charles the Simple granted the lands of the old abbey of La Croix-Saint-Leufroi to the abbey of Saint-Germanin-des-Prés “except that part of the abbey’s lands that we have granted to the Normans of the Seine, namely to Rollo and his followers, for the defence of the kingdom.”  The treaty recording this land grant to Rollo no longer exists, but it is clear that between the dates of these two royal proclamations, Rollo and his followers had established themselves.

The decisive event may have been a battle at Chartres in 911. Later Norman tradition tends to agree with this and places Rollo at the centre of events, though some historians question this. One reading of the sources is that as a result of this battle, the Vikings were appeased with a grant of land in order to contain and control them. Flodoard of Reims tells us that the Vikings had been granted the lands around Rouen “had some time ago been given to the Northmen on account of the pledges of Charles who had promised them the breadth of the country.” Flodoard’s account is important because it appears to give a contemporary view of the period. He was a canon of Reims, and wrote his annals from c. 925 until his death in 966. The only problem is that he was some distance from Normandy, and the history of Normandy was not his principal concern.

It is clear from his account that the Vikings and the Franks were in constant struggle. In 925, Flodoard records that “the Normans of Rouen broke the treaty which they had once made and devastated the districts [pagi] of Beauvais and Amiens. Those citizens of Amiens who were fleeing were burned by a fire for which they were ill-prepared.” The Franks responded by plundering Rouen: “they set fire to manors, stole cattle and even killed some of the Normans.” Count Herbert led another force against the Vikings towards the east, and surrounded them in a camp on the coast.   “It was this very same camp, situated on the coast and called Eu that the Franks surrounded. They broke through the rampart by which the camp was surrounded in front of its walls and weakening the wall, climbed all. Once they had won possession of the town by fighting, they then slaughtered all the males and set fire to its fortifications. Some, however, escaped and took possession of a certain neighbouring island. But the Franks attacked and captured it, although with a greater delay than when they had seized the town. After the Normans, who had been preserving their lives by fighting as best they could, had seen what had happened and had let slip any hope of survival, some plunged themselves into the waves, some cut their throats and some were killed by Frankish swords, while others died by their own weapons. And in this way, once everyone had been destroyed and an outrageous amount of booty had been pillaged, the Franks returned to their territory.”

This vivid description gives historians a sense of the violence of the age. The Vikings were marauding all across the northern coastal regions of Francia, though Neustria does seem to be the main area of their settlement. However, they were certainly not confined to this area, or prepared to accept its boundaries. In 937, Flodoard tells us, “The Bretons retreated to their homeland after their long peregrinations fought in frequent battles with the Normans, who had invaded the territory which had belonged to them, next to their own. They ended up the stronger in many of these battles and reclaimed their own territory.”  Rollo is mentioned in 925 as princeps (leader) of the Northmen at Rouen. Although not mentioned at the time, evidence from the 918 charter strongly suggests that the Norman chroniclers are correct in saying that Rollo led the army from the start. However, Dudo’s reference to the Treaty of St Clair-sur-Epte is uncorroborated and should be dismissed as unreliable. Dudo was also misleading when describing the terms of the settlement. The granting of “the land from the river Epte” tallies with the other sources, but the granting of Brittany does not. Neither does the scene of the utter wilderness hold true: if the land granted by Charles to the Vikings was “uncultivated by the ploughshare, entirely deprived of herds of cattle and flocks of sheep and lacking in human life”, then why do Scandinavian place-names only form a minority of all place-names throughout Normandy? Entertaining though Dudo’s tale may be, his chronicle, and those of his followers and imitators, cannot be trusted for the early history of Normandy and historians must resign themselves to establishing a few bare facts in the midst of later distortions.

The extension of Normandy’s borders can be seen in Flodoard’s history.  King Ralph conceded Bayeux and Maine [Cinomannis et Baiocae] in 925 according to Flodoard, though there are doubts about the concession of Maine. Later in 933, the Normans were given Avranchin and Cotentin. Excluding Maine, this established Normandy in the approximate form that it existed in 1066.  The Cotentin peninsula was also settled by Vikings independently of the Vikings under Rollo at Rouen. These early years were violent times. The Normans were constantly warring, fighting with the Franks in 923, but principally concerned with expanding their own sphere of influence. The people of Bayeux revolted against Viking rule in 925, a year after they had been transferred to the control of the counts of Rouen. Dudo recalls a revolt against William Longsword by a certain Riulf: “fiercely filled with infamous perfidy”.

Against all the stresses and the strains, against internal revolt and external threats, Normandy had secured its position by the middle of the tenth-century and, though its security was threatened many times, the Norman territory was strongly governed and able to throw off its enemies. This might perhaps lead us to view the treaties between the Franks and the Vikings as more significant than they were at the time. All the evidence suggests that the boundaries were relatively fluid. Agreements were made, and Vikings baptised, but these baptisms often proved temporary affairs. In the 920s, the archbishops of Rouen and Reims both wrote letters on the subject of Vikings who remained pagan despite having converted. Herveus of Reims asked the Pope: “What should be done when they have been baptised and re-baptised, and after their baptism continue to live in pagan fashion, and in the manner of pagans kill Christians, massacre priests, and, offering sacrifices to idols, eat what has been offered?”

There is little evidence for the widespread introduction of Scandinavian institutions or lifestyle. Although in 1013 Duke Richard II welcomed a group of Vikings at Rouen, too much should not be read into this. The leaders, Richard and Olaf, may have felt some commonality, but this cannot be discovered. Just as Frankish nobles and kings had welcomed Vikings and baptised them as Christians, in the hope of converting them into a friend and not making them an enemy, so Richard did with Olaf and his Vikings. Olaf had ravaged Brittany, but had allowed himself to be converted by Richard. The Normans were really now more Franks than Scandinavians. Dudo claims that at the time of William Longsword, Scandinavian speech was obsolete at Rouen, and it is indeed probable that the native tongue was soon adopted. On the eve of the first Crusade, the Norman knight Bohemond was able to ask, rhetorically, “Are we not Franks?”

How does archaeological and place-name evidence help?

The land divisions in Normandy appear to have remained unchanged from the Frankish to the Norman eras. Jacques Le Maho’s[9] study of the Pays de Caux shows a continuity of seigneurial residences, and it has been argued that there was greater continuity in this region than in other parts of Francia. The Vikings did bring slavery with them, but this did not last beyond the first century of occupation. The Normans seems to have been highly integrated with the Franks. One piece of evidence for this is the Fécamp coin horde, including some coins struck at mints in Cologne, Arles and Pavia. In Scandinavia, Norman coins cease to appear in hordes after the early eleventh century, appearing instead in Francia and Italy. This suggests a continuation of trading links with Scandinavia for a while, but with a steadily increasing Norman emphasis on contacts with the continent. Frankish justice was adopted; the Scandinavian thing did not become established.

The study of place-names provides an insight into early Normano-Viking settlement. The comprehensive study undertaken by Jean Adigard des Gautries[10] tells the story of the Viking influx. Taking all place-names with a possible or definite Scandinavian influence, it can be seen that these are especially numerous in the Cotentin peninsula and along the coast, with another large cluster in the Pays de Caux. They were also numerous “all along the great invasion route that was the Seine” and down the other rivers as well: evidence of the Vikings carrying on their raiding, travelling by ship across sea and along rivers.  It seems quite likely that when Rollo had his territorial claims to Neustrian March recognised, he based his administration around a coastal group of settlements already in existence due to the activities of other Vikings over a number of years. However, Scandinavian place-names never formed a local majority over pre-existing Frankish names, even in the areas of highest Scandinavian place-name density. One explanation for this is the swift adoption of the local tongue by the Normans.

Frank Stenton[11] made a good point when he compared place-names in Normandy and the English Danelaw. He pointed out that place-names with Viking personal name elements also had Scandinavian suffixes, for example Grimsby: the Viking personal name Grim and the suffix -by, the Scandinavian word for village. He compared this to Normandy, where place-names that have Viking personal names very often have native endings, for example,  Grémonville, the ending of which comes from the Latin villa. The former indicates a large settlement of Vikings, who named places in their own tongue. The latter might only show that while the Viking incomers founded and took over places, it was the local population who actually named these places. This could be an indication of the extent of the Viking settlement in Normandy.

Archaeological evidence can tell us little about early settlement. Patrick Perin[12], examining the evidence found around the lower Seine, admits that the “archaeological documentation is singularly lean.” There is evidence for Scandinavian presence: Viking swords and axes have been found, although Perin points out that despite two finds in the ground that were probably buried as part of a funeral, the arms found were all in the river. While this shows that Vikings were present here, it is not clear whether the finds are mainly from settlements or mainly from marauding hordes before the settlement era. This evidence adds little to our knowledge. It is clear that Northmen were present in Normandy for a long time, but the archaeology is scarce and cannot be pinpointed in time to give a clearer picture of the early years of the Viking settlement. The lack of finds does not trouble David Bates unduly, though. “If an extensive colonisation can be argued for in England despite the absence of significant archaeological finds, then the same conclusion seems feasible for Normandy.” The lack of Viking finds does not automatically discount a sizeable Viking settlement, but if this was the case then the settlers very quickly adopted Frankish customs.

Whatever the size of the settlement, there is another debate on the speed of integration. “Whichever way we turn”, writes Ralph Davies[13], “we have to admit that the Viking society of Rollo and his companions was something quite different from the Norman society of the eleventh century. The one developed from the other, but the development was not effective until the two races had merged and the Northmen had, for all practical purposes, become Frenchmen.” The level of integration is difficult to tell, and David Bates and Eleanor Searle hold different views on this. Bates believes that the Viking incomers quickly became integrated into the native society, so that they had soon adopted Frankish manners and institutions. Searle’s position is that they remained self-consciously Viking until the mid-eleventh century[14].

The evidence for this period is patchy and often inconclusive. The early history of Normandy can be told authoritatively only in very bare and plain terms. Tempting though it is to use more expansive and colourful Norman documents, these tell us more about the needs of the developing Norman state than about its early history. For the period he records, 923-966, Flodoard of Reims seems to be a reliable source, though his main focus is not Normandy. As for the Scandinavian impact on Normandy, there does not appear to have been an overwhelming upheaval. Scandinavian tongues appear not to have been spoken more than three generations after the settlement. Administrative districts were kept intact, estates seem to have survived, and on the whole the Normans ruled through Frankish-style institutions. But Michel de Boüard[15] warns against the simple assumption of continuity simply because of a lack of institutional change. He talks of the “vigour, the effectiveness of ducal power in Normandy” and warns that we should never forget the “human factor” in all this. Certainly, Normandy grew as a power once the Vikings had taken control. There is evidence here for both continuity and discontinuity. Since the sources tell us so little, it is a debate that will be hard to resolve.


[1] David Bates Normandy before 1066, Longman, 1982, page 38.

[2] Two papers are of particular importance on this issue: Pierre Bouet ‘Les chroniqueurs francs et normands face aux invasions vikings’ and Catherine Bougy ‘Comment les chroniqueurs du XIIe siècle ont-ils perçu les invasions vikings?’, in Elisabeth Ridel (ed.) L’Héritage maritime des Vikings en Europe de l’Ouest, Actes du colloque international de la Hague (Flottemanville-Hague, 30 septembre-3 octobre 1999), Presses Universitaires de Caen, 2002, pages 57-74 and pages 75-100 respectively

[3] David C. Douglas, ‘Some Problems of Early Norman Chronology’, English Historical Review volume 65, (1950), pages 289-303.

[4] Francis Palgrave The History of Normandy and of England, four volumes, 1851-1864.

[5] Flodoard of Reims, Les Annales de Flodoard, edited Philippe Lauer, Collection des textes pour servir à l’étude et à l’enseignement de l’histoire 39, Paris, 1905.

[6] Dudo of Saint-Quentin History of the Normans, translated Eric Christiansen, Boydell, 1997.

[7] Henri Prentout Étude critique sur Dudon de Saint-Quentin et son histoire des premiers ducs Normands, Paris, 1916 remains the most detailed study of Dudo.

[8] Lucien Musset ‘L’origine de Rollon,’ in Nordica et Normannica: Recueil d’études sur la Scandinavie ancienne et médiévale, les expéditions des Vikings et la fondation de la Normandie, Studia nordica 1, Paris: Société des études nordiques, 1997, originally published 1982, pages 383–87 is a useful summary of the evidence.

[9] Jacques Le Maho ‘L’apparition des seigneuries châtelaines dans le Grand-Caux à l’époque ducale,’ Archéologie Médiévale, volume 6, (1976), pages 5-148.

[10] Jean Adigard des Gautries Les noms de personnes scandinaves de Normandie en 911 á 1066, 1954.

[11] Frank M Stenton ‘The Scandinavian Colonies in England and Normandy’, Transactions of the Royal Historical Society, 4th series, volume 27, (1945), pages 1-12 but also see the more recent study by Gillian Fellows-Jensen ‘Scandinavian Place-Names and Viking Settlement in Normandy: A Review,’ Namn och Bygd, volume 76, (1988), 113-37, updated and translated into French as Gillian Fellows-Jensen ‘Les noms de lieux d’origine scandinave et la colonisation viking en Normandie: Examen critique de la question’, Proxima Thulé, volume 1 (1994), pages 63-103.

[12] Patrick Périn ‘Les objets Vikings du Musée des Antiquities de la Seine-Maritime á Rouen’, in Recueil d’études en hommage à Lucien Musset, Cahier des Annales de Normandie 23, Caen: Musée de Normandie, 1990, pages 161-188.

[13] R. H. C. Davis, The Normans and Their Myth, London, 1976

[14] Eleanor Searle Predatory Kinship and the Creation of Norman Power 840-1066 and ‘Frankish Rivalries and Norse Warriors,’ Anglo-Norman Studies, volume 8, (1985), pages 198-213.

[15] Michel de Boüard ‘De la Neustrie carolingienne á la Normandie féodale: continuité ou discontinuité,’ Bulletin of the Institute of Historical Research, volume 28, (1955), pages 1-14.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

The Normans in Normandy: Dudo of St Quentin

Who was Dudo?

Dudo, writing in the dedicatory letter to bishop Adalbero of Laon that serves as a preface to the work, says that Duke Richard I of Normandy commissioned a history and, after Richard’s death in 996, other members of the Norman ducal house continued to patronise him in the hopes that he would complete the task. Dudo writes that the commission was completed two years before the death of Richard I.  According to the oldest manuscript copies of Dudo’s narrative, this occurred either in 996 or 1002. The former year, 996, is the one that is usually acceptable by scholars. However, it is symptomatic of the difficulties involved in studying the period that the later date, 1002, was preferred by the scribes of the oldest extant manuscript copies of the text (Bern, Bürgerbibliothek, Bongars 390 of the early eleventh century and Berlin, Staatsbibliothek - Preußischer Kulterbesitz, Philipps 1854 of the late eleventh century)[1] and was left ‘uncorrected’ by the owners of the Berlin manuscript, namely the monks of the Norman monastery of Fécamp, where Duke Richard died and was buried. The manuscript was owned, in the twelfth century, by the Norman monastery of Fécamp, also on the Channel coast, and is listed in the twelfth-century library catalogue of that house under the title “Gesta Normannorum” or “Deeds of the Normans”.  Dudo’s history of early Normandy, unlike the vast majority of texts written before the age of the printing press, survives in a fairly large number of manuscripts, all of which differ from one another in a variety of ways, but most of which were copied during the eleventh or twelfth centuries, the height of the popularity of the text[2]

If determining the date at which Dudo began to write is difficult, determining the date at which he finished writing is even more problematic. In the author’s dedicatory letter to bishop Adalbero, Dudo called himself the ‘decanus’ (dean) of the community of canons of St. Quentin in the Vermandois. Because Dudo is called simply a ‘canonicus’ (canon) of St. Quentin in a charter of duke Richard II that dates from 1015[3], it is usually concluded that he completed his Norman history late in 1015, after receiving a promotion to ‘decanus’[4] Because the charter survives in the original, and not in some later copy, its own authenticity is not in doubt[5]. Nevertheless, the reasoning behind this particular end-date is not absolutely certain.

Dudo himself wrote the first four lines of the charter of 1015, calling himself the ‘capellanus’ (chaplain) of Duke Richard II. Another scribe wrote the rest of the charter and called Dudo a ‘canonicus’.  The title therefore does not have the kind of authority that it would have had had it come from Dudo’s own pen.  Yet, even if Dudo did use the title ‘canonicus’ in 1015, that would not preclude his already having become the ‘decanus’ of the congregation[6].  When a canon became dean of St. Quentin, he did not cease to be a canon of the community.  This can be seen in a typical charter in the cartulary (collection of charters) of St. Quentin that refers to “the dean and the other canons of the church of blessed Quintinus”[7]. The 1015 charter represents, in a sense, Dudo’s will, whereby he is guaranteed by Richard II that he may bequeath to his monastic family certain benefices that he had been given by Richard I.  At this moment, it is understandable that Dudo would have emphasised his status as a member of the community of the monastery, rather than his official position over it.  Finally, if Dudo was not the dean of the community at the time of the 1015 charter, there is no reason to assume that he necessarily became dean after drawing up the charter rather than that he had been dean before drawing up the charter. The deanship of a canonry is not a lifetime position from which one cannot abdicate.  Indeed, it is precisely the sort of position from which one might resign in order to become the ‘capellanus’ of Richard II, the position that Dudo described himself as holding in the charters of 1011 and 1015.

To complicate matters even more, it is important to consider materials beyond the dedicatory letter and the two ducal charters. Can we be certain that we ought to trust the salutation of the dedicatory epistle when it refers to Dudo as the ‘decanus’ of St. Quentin, whether in 1015 or at any other time? The dedicatory letter does appear in a number of the earlier manuscript copies of the text.  However, none of these is separated from the date of Dudo’s own writing by fewer than several decades. On the other hand, the Annals of St. Quentin, written in a ninth-century manuscript from St. Quentin and then updated by tenth- and eleventh-century hands contemporary with the events recorded, describe the rule of ‘abbates’ (abbots) and ‘custodes’ (guardians) throughout the period in question, with no reference to anyone named Dudo, or indeed to any ‘decani’.[8]  Against a background of such uncertainty, it is difficult to see how historians can say anything more specific than that Dudo wrote the history during the late tenth and/or early eleventh centuries, while associated in a variety of ways with the ruling family of ducal Normandy.

Issues in Dudo

The origin story

By the beginning of the eleventh century, there was a growing awareness in Normandy that a new people, as well as a new principality, had been formed over the course of the previous century.  This consciousness forms an important theme in Dudo’s chronicle.  He wrote his tale of Normandy’s past to please an audience that was largely members of the Norman ducal court.  According to Dudo, Rollo the tenth century Viking founder of Normandy saw a vision of his future while still a pagan wanderer.  Rollo was transported to a mountain in Francia, washed in a clear and fragrant fountain and joined there by thousands of birds who came from every direction to build their nests around the mountain.  A Christian, who Rollo had taken captive in battle, interpreted the dream: the mountain symbolised the Christian church; the fountain was the baptism that Rollo would receive; and the birds represented the ‘men of different realms’ who would make their homes with Rollo and accept him as their leader.

Origin stories like this were widespread in medieval Europe.  Common to many other cultures and periods, their purpose was to create a viable past that reinforced collective identity and values.  To be effective, these stories need to have the ring of truth about them though this point is often overlooked.  A common feature of medieval origin stories was the assumption of a single descent: the people who formed the cultural and political unit were generally seen as racially homogeneous and this common ancestry is often the point of the story.   Graham Loud[9] argues that Norman historians conformed to the traditional view of common descent: Dudo and his successors do describe Rollo and his followers as Danes/Dacians who descended from the Trojan exile Antenor.  But this point seems to miss the broader picture.  By recognising the different origins of the people of Normandy, Dudo broke with this tradition. 

Dudo would, given his education and training, have been fully aware of this tradition.  However, he chose to offer a truer account that underlined the message of inclusion that was central to his patrons.  The Norman achievement and this was recognised by Dudo, was the successful incorporation of various peoples from different backgrounds into one community and, as a result, created a new people, a new ethnicity and a new identity.  The dominant theme in Dudo’s work is that Normandy was the product of a difficult but ultimately successful union between newcomers and natives[10].

Fact and fancy

Despite Dudo’s willingness to subordinate fact to fancy, his work represents the beginning of Norman historiography[11].  Written at the express command of the duke, his work sheds light on how early eleventh century Normans interpreted the first century of their rule, or at least how Dudo imagined they did.  Had his version not rung true in the ears of later Normans, it would not have been so widely plagiarised by later historians.  The message of Rollo’s dream was repeated again and again by historians and summarised in the late eleventh century by a monk of the abbey of Saint-Wandrille[12] who simply wrote that Rollo reconciled “the men of all origins and different professions in little time, and he made one people out of different races”.

The problem is that the view Dudo expressed of a new people born of the synthesis of several groups has been lost in the historiographical debate on the origins of the duchy.  The debate can be seen as one of two polarised positions: one that sees discontinuity in the Viking heritage of the Normans and one that stresses continuity by stressing the Norman capacity to assimilate and absorb Frankish culture.  Again, this obscures the broader picture: discontinuity at the upper levels of society did not mean discontinuity at the lower levels.  Dudo recognised that the important issue was not whether Normandy was more Viking or more Frankish at a given date but rather how it evolved through combining these divergent traditions into a new and dynamic society.

The people who seized control of the region were opportunists and this represented their Viking heritage.  However, Rollo and his successors quickly recognised the importance of broadening the basis of their support internally and externally.  This was essential as there were many people who still saw them as the scourge of God.  Although the Vikings were not engaged in a deliberately anti-Christian crusade, to their victims they appeared both as ‘the rod of God’s wrath’ and ‘the people of God’s wrath’ and Carolingian charters often refer to them as the enemies of Christianity.  The assassination of William Longsword in 942 and the attack on Rouen that followed it showed that the position of the Normans was by no means secure or permanent.  Opportunities were taken by the Normans from the 940s to strengthen their position.They preserved and, to a significant degree maintained Carolingian legal and administrative institutions that helped to centralise their rule.  They expanded their network of alliances and neutralised potential threats through the practive of selective marriage, internally and externally.  They increased their wealth by controlling the currency, collective revenue based on Carolingian taxes and encouraged economic growth under their authority.  They used the church to reshape their advantage and there is little doubt of the centrality of the role played by the Church in the establishment of Normandy before 1066. 

Dudo placed considerable emphasis on the theme of predator to patron and protector of the Church.  A contrast is drawn between ‘bad’ Vikings who attacked the church and those ‘good’ Vikings who rebuilt it.  As patrons of the church from Rollo onwards, the Normans were able to throw off their bloodthirsty image and, more importantly, the church provided an infrastructure for the Norman rulers to expand their authority geographically and socially.  Dudo claimed that Rollo received all his lands in Normandy, as well as in Brittany, from the Frankish king in 911.  In reality, Rollo’s rule was far more limited and it was not until the late tenth century that his successors were able to claim effective control over the area that later became lower Normandy. 

Dudo’s chronicle provides a justification for the position of the Normans in Normandy and a legitimacy for their rule based on a combination of fact and fabrication.  Latin models such as Dudo of Saint-Quentin and Guillaume de Jumièges largely inspired Benoît de Sainte-Maure as he fulfilled King Henry II Plantagenêt’s request to write a history of the dukes of Normandy. Yet his perspective was different. Besides reporting military deeds and conquests, Benoît also allowed himself religious and political comments. He showed how the Norman dukes, who were said to be Henry II’s ancestors and descended from the Danes, themselves allegedly descendents of the Trojans, built the foundations of a harmonious civilisation as they combined their military role and their worldly power under the sway of the Roman Church. Their patria, Troy and the splendid civilisation Benoît had conjured up in his Roman de Troie, might have disappeared, but the history of the Danes who became Dukes of Normandy and Kings of England was an ongoing affair. Reaching its high point under Henry II, as Benoît claimed, it illustrates how they could retrieve and develop ‘Trojan’ virtues such as how to guide and rule their people in the light of the Christian faith, and how they founded the Trojan civilisation again, this time on the boundaries of the Western world.


[1] Gerda Huisman ‘Notes on the Manuscript Tradition of Dudo of St. Quentin’s Gesta Normannorum’, Anglo-Norman Studies volume 6 (1984), page 122; J. J. G. Alexander Norman Illumination at Mont St.-Michel, 966 - 1100, Oxford, 1970, pages 40, 235.

[2] Gerda Huisman ‘Notes on the Manuscript Tradition of Dudo of St. Quentin’s Gesta Normannorum’, Anglo-Norman Studies volume 6 (1984), pages 122-136.

[3] Recueil des chartes des ducs de Normandie, 911 - 1066 ed. Marie Fauroux, Mémoires de la Société des Antiquaires de Normandie 36; Caen, 1961, no. 18, pages 100 – 102.

[4] Leah Shopkow ‘The Carolingian World of Dudo of St. Quentin’, Journal of Medieval History, volume 15 (1989), pages 19-37.

[5] Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Collection de Picardie 352 no. 1.

[6] He also wrote, as ‘capellanus’ another extant charter of Richard II (Recueil des chartes ed. Fauroux no. 13, pages 86 - 89), which also survives in the original: Rouen, Archives Départementales, Seine-Maritime ms. 14 H 915A.

[7] “...ecclesie beati quintini decanus ceterique canonici”: Paris, Bibliothèque Nationale, Ms. Latin 11.070 no. 74 folio 86r.

[8] Vatican City, Biblioteca Apostolica ms. latinus 645 ed. L. Bethmann, Monumenta Germaniae Historica, Scriptores, volume XVI, Hannover, 1859, coll. 507 - 508. The Benedictines of St. Maur, by contrast, present the governance of the house to have involved lay abbots and deans throughout the period; however, they provide no source for “Vivianus”, said to have been the ‘decanus’ in the late tenth and early eleventh centuries, before Dudo: Gallia Christiana volume ix, Paris, 1751, coll. 1038 - 1054).

[9] Graham Loud ‘The “Gens Normannorum”: Myth or Reality?’, Anglo-Norman Studies, volume 4 (1982), pages 104-116.

[10] On this see, Cassandra Potts ‘Atque unum ex diversisgentibus populam effecit, Historical Tradition and the Norman Identity’, Anglo-Norman Studies, volume 18, (1996), pages 139-152.

[11] Dudo’s historicity was savaged in Henry Howorth, “A Criticism of the Life of Rollo as Told by Dudo of St Quentin,” Archaeologia volume 45 (1880): pages 235-50, and Henri Prentout, Étude critique sur Dudon de Saint-Quentin et son histoire des premiers ducs Normands, Paris: Picard, 1916.  Despite defences such as Lair’s introduction to his edition of Dudo and Johannes Steenstrup, Normandiets Historie under de syv første Hertuger, 911-1066, Mémoires de l’Académie royale des sciences et des lettres de Danemark, 7me série, Section des Lettres 5.1, Copenhagen: Andr. Fred. Høst & Søn, 1925, Dudo’s critics have largely held the field as even his harshest critics seem to hold to a largely Dudoesque early Normandy. In recent years, however, Dudo has enjoyed a significant resurgence. At Caen, a “neo-Dudonist” school is emerging, seeking to rehabilitate Dudo as historian, led by Pierre Bouet and François Neveux; see François Neveux, La Normandie des ducs aux rois (Xe-XIIe siècle), Rennes: Ouest-France, 1998 and L’Aventure des Normands, Perrin, 2006. Further, some historians have come to appreciate Dudo as a source not for the history of the 10th century, but for the intellectual climate of Normandy and the Carolingian world in the 11th century. See, M. Arnoux ‘Before the Gesta Normannorum and Beyond Dudo: Some Evidence on Early Norman Historiography’, Anglo-Norman Studies, volume 22 (2000), pages 29-48, important for evidence as to the early development of Dudo’s text; Eleanor Searle ‘Fact and Pattern in Heroic History: Dudo of Saint-Quentin’, Viator volume 15 (1984), pages 119-37; Leah Shopkow ‘The Carolingian World of Dudo of Saint-Quentin’, Journal of Medieval History volume 15 (1989), pages 19-37; Pierre Bouet ‘Dudon de Saint-Quentin et Virgile: L’Enéide au service de la cause normande’, in Recueil d’études en hommage à Lucien Musset, Cahier des Annales de Normandie 23, Caen: Musée de Normandie, 1990, pages 215-36; Victoria B. Jordan ‘The Role of Kingship in Tenth-Century Normandy: Hagiography of Dudo of Saint-Quentin’, Haskins Society Journal volume 3 (1991), pages 53-62; Emily Albu (Hanawalt) ‘Dudo of Saint-Quentin: The Heroic Past Imagined’, Haskins Society Journal volume 6 (1994), pages 111-18; Felice Lifshitz ‘Dudo’s Historical Narrative and the Norman Succession of 996’, Journal of Medieval History volume 20 (1994), pages 101-20; Claude Carozzi, ‘Des Daces aux Normands, le mythe et l’identification d’un peuple chez Dudon de Saint-Quentin’, Claude Carozzi et Huguette Taviani-Carozzi (eds.), Peuples du Moyen Âge. Problèmes d’identification, Séminaire Société, Idéologies et Croyances au Moyen Âge, Publications de l’Université de Provence, 1996, pages 7-25; and the articles in Dudone di San Quintino: Sono qui raccolte le relazioni tenute dagli intervenuti al Convegno su Dudone di San Quintino, organizzato a Trento dal Dipartimento di scienze filologiche e storiche dell’Universita atesina il 5 e 6 maggio 1994, edited by Paolo Gatti and Antonella Degl’Innocenti, Labirinti 16 (Trent: Universita degli studi di Trento, 1995).

[12] Jean Laporte (ed.) Invention et miracula Sancti Vulfrani, Rouen, 1938, page 21.