In the landscapes of Heorot (image heavy)
Posted: Mon Sep 17, 2012 8:41 pm
(Moved and reposted from Corishev, since that forum seems entirely dead and nobody's likely to spare this a even quarter a glance. Plus this may be more of a travel story type of post.)
At a first glance, especially when it's raining sideways and the wind is ripping the sparse trees around the fields, the quiet, rural village of Lejre, Denmark, feels like one of those forgotten holes where one might picture a waterlogged crow shivering on the top of a lopsided fencepost as the only sign of life.
Yet the site sports a magnificent history, both according to Nordic legends and recent archeological findings. Here, myths shake hands with facts: Ruins indicating at the yesteryear existence of several lavish wooden halls, dating to approximately 500-1000 CE, have been excavated on the homestead of the legendary Skjöldung/Scylding lineage.
What might be so intriguing about a few musty rocks and names containing those annoying dots above perfectly fine letters, ready to roll off and trip one's tongue at the first chance? Hleiðargarðr, which can be modernized to Lejre Gård, served for instance as the high seat of, depending on the language and spelling, King Hroðulf or Hrólfr Kraki or King Hroðgar. The last variant can be spotted on the pages of Beowulf as the builder of the mead hall Heorot. Archeological studies have proven that quite a few such legends base themselves on actual historic evidence; after all, Ingólfur Arnarson's farm was found in Reykjavik, and Unto Salo speculates that he came across King Kaukamoinen's (Faravid of Kvenland from the saga of Egill Skallagrímsson) grave upon Köyliönsaari. Omitting the folkloric aspects, historians have dated the major events of Beowulf back to the 6th century, partially thanks to the very accurate depictions of Vendel arms like ringswords, burial customs, et cetera.
During the 6th century, the hugest high hall of the era built upon the entirety of Denmark (and certainly one of the most imposing around the Baltic Sea) sat in Lejre, and several history researchers believe that the oldest specimen near Fredshøj could well have been the original Heorot. The building did not stand there for very long, however: the settlement was moved some 500m south to Mysselhøjgård around 650 CE. Whether it was nightly ravaged by a ravenous man-eating monster or not, or if dragons truly inhabited Sweden, stay unverified.
As opposed to Beowulf's seemingly christian aspect, the ancient Lejre folk certainly worshiped old Norse gods rather than anything Semitic. The halls were situated near stone altars (hörgar), one of the Viking graves nearby contained a human sacrifice of a male slave accompanying his possibly aristocratic mistress to the otherworlds, and the various pieces of jewelry excavated around the area consisted entirely of Norse motives, like Mjölnirs and a tiny silver statue of Óðinn. Personally, I don't recall seeing any christian influence in the exhibitions of Vendel age discoveries in Stockholm or Uppsala either (not sure about Sutton Hoo, however).
Regrettably could not access the actual Fredshøj site, what with it being infested by cows and electric fences, but here are photos from the general area. Honestly, I got also tired of gingerly trying to wriggle through these microscopic, shabby gates some friendly farmers had opened up for hikers. I'm a skinny little runt, but even so, they were often a tight fit, and one becomes wary of even so much brushing at the wires, lest they get zapped by an unhealthy doze of volts.
A "gate" for hikers with electric current running in the wires. Safety boards galore.
(Yes I slinked through that. Had to toss my heavy-ish backpack over first.)

The halls themselves stood c. 50m long each, which is not a laughable measure even by modern standards.
Ignore my bloody shadows.

The outlines of the halls proved tricksy to capture. Denmark spreads out as flat as a trodden-on pancake, and nobody had provided even with a handy rock to stand upon. Unfortunately I cannot sprout wings and just fly over the buggers with my camera a-clicking.


This one felt quite creepy on the inside. The outline actually consists of two high halls, the oldest of which dates back to 650 CE (perhaps the direct successor of the abandoned Fredshøj).


A scale model reconstruction of 'the eldritch-feeling hall' on display in the Lejre museum. The same method of building was utilized throughout the Vendel and Viking ages, so Heorot itself would have appeared much alike. The walls were commonly painted with bright colors.




The Óðinn of Lejre, now lounging in the Roskilde Museum.

Beowulf landscapes:

A handy swamp for Grendel's mom to lurk in.

Some moos gathered to moon/stare at the intruder in black. Though, appears that one is sniffing at weeds.

The Mysselhøj barrow fancies its dose of drama.

Info about a princely burial near the river. Only a small elevation remains of the barrow these days.


A view from the top of Grydehöj (sorry, the image is pretty bad, got dark at that point and higher ISO levels just cause that annoying noise):

Read more about the Lejre halls and their recent studies (in English):
www.roskildemuseum.dk/Files/Filer/VORES ... _SKN33.pdf
At a first glance, especially when it's raining sideways and the wind is ripping the sparse trees around the fields, the quiet, rural village of Lejre, Denmark, feels like one of those forgotten holes where one might picture a waterlogged crow shivering on the top of a lopsided fencepost as the only sign of life.
Yet the site sports a magnificent history, both according to Nordic legends and recent archeological findings. Here, myths shake hands with facts: Ruins indicating at the yesteryear existence of several lavish wooden halls, dating to approximately 500-1000 CE, have been excavated on the homestead of the legendary Skjöldung/Scylding lineage.
What might be so intriguing about a few musty rocks and names containing those annoying dots above perfectly fine letters, ready to roll off and trip one's tongue at the first chance? Hleiðargarðr, which can be modernized to Lejre Gård, served for instance as the high seat of, depending on the language and spelling, King Hroðulf or Hrólfr Kraki or King Hroðgar. The last variant can be spotted on the pages of Beowulf as the builder of the mead hall Heorot. Archeological studies have proven that quite a few such legends base themselves on actual historic evidence; after all, Ingólfur Arnarson's farm was found in Reykjavik, and Unto Salo speculates that he came across King Kaukamoinen's (Faravid of Kvenland from the saga of Egill Skallagrímsson) grave upon Köyliönsaari. Omitting the folkloric aspects, historians have dated the major events of Beowulf back to the 6th century, partially thanks to the very accurate depictions of Vendel arms like ringswords, burial customs, et cetera.
During the 6th century, the hugest high hall of the era built upon the entirety of Denmark (and certainly one of the most imposing around the Baltic Sea) sat in Lejre, and several history researchers believe that the oldest specimen near Fredshøj could well have been the original Heorot. The building did not stand there for very long, however: the settlement was moved some 500m south to Mysselhøjgård around 650 CE. Whether it was nightly ravaged by a ravenous man-eating monster or not, or if dragons truly inhabited Sweden, stay unverified.

As opposed to Beowulf's seemingly christian aspect, the ancient Lejre folk certainly worshiped old Norse gods rather than anything Semitic. The halls were situated near stone altars (hörgar), one of the Viking graves nearby contained a human sacrifice of a male slave accompanying his possibly aristocratic mistress to the otherworlds, and the various pieces of jewelry excavated around the area consisted entirely of Norse motives, like Mjölnirs and a tiny silver statue of Óðinn. Personally, I don't recall seeing any christian influence in the exhibitions of Vendel age discoveries in Stockholm or Uppsala either (not sure about Sutton Hoo, however).
Regrettably could not access the actual Fredshøj site, what with it being infested by cows and electric fences, but here are photos from the general area. Honestly, I got also tired of gingerly trying to wriggle through these microscopic, shabby gates some friendly farmers had opened up for hikers. I'm a skinny little runt, but even so, they were often a tight fit, and one becomes wary of even so much brushing at the wires, lest they get zapped by an unhealthy doze of volts.
A "gate" for hikers with electric current running in the wires. Safety boards galore.


The halls themselves stood c. 50m long each, which is not a laughable measure even by modern standards.
Ignore my bloody shadows.

The outlines of the halls proved tricksy to capture. Denmark spreads out as flat as a trodden-on pancake, and nobody had provided even with a handy rock to stand upon. Unfortunately I cannot sprout wings and just fly over the buggers with my camera a-clicking.


This one felt quite creepy on the inside. The outline actually consists of two high halls, the oldest of which dates back to 650 CE (perhaps the direct successor of the abandoned Fredshøj).


A scale model reconstruction of 'the eldritch-feeling hall' on display in the Lejre museum. The same method of building was utilized throughout the Vendel and Viking ages, so Heorot itself would have appeared much alike. The walls were commonly painted with bright colors.




The Óðinn of Lejre, now lounging in the Roskilde Museum.

Beowulf landscapes:

A handy swamp for Grendel's mom to lurk in.

Some moos gathered to moon/stare at the intruder in black. Though, appears that one is sniffing at weeds.

The Mysselhøj barrow fancies its dose of drama.

Info about a princely burial near the river. Only a small elevation remains of the barrow these days.


A view from the top of Grydehöj (sorry, the image is pretty bad, got dark at that point and higher ISO levels just cause that annoying noise):

Read more about the Lejre halls and their recent studies (in English):
www.roskildemuseum.dk/Files/Filer/VORES ... _SKN33.pdf