The city itself proved to be as frustrating for the Vikings as the Abbey of St. Germain. Much of the expected treasure had been carried away into the surrounding countryside by the frightened inhabitants. They could send out raiding parties in search of it, but that opened them to the possibility of ambush or an assault by Charles’ army.
In fact, every moment Ragnar spent in Paris, his situation worsened. The Frankish king had been collecting reinforcements, and was now at the head of a considerable army in a position to block the Viking escape. Even more worryingly was the fact that the Vikings were beginning to show signs of dysentery, which further reduced their fighting ability. From the deserted monastery of St. Germain-des-Prés, Ragnar reached out to Charles, hinting that he was willing to leave if offered a suitable tribute.
The Frankish king was in the mood to negotiate. Despite the size of his army, he had no confidence in its quality or in the loyalty of its commanders. He also had the headache of rebellious vassals, ambitious family members and chronic revolts. Ambassadors for both sides met in the monastery of St. Denis, and the Franks offered extraordinary terms. Not only could the Vikings keep their plunder and depart unmolested, but they would be paid nearly six thousand pounds of gold and silver for their trouble.
This is the first recorded example of what the English called Danegeld – literally ‘Danish Money’ – a series of increasingly ineffective bribes by desperate monarchs to get the Vikings to go away. Most of the money to pay for it would be commandeered from the church and then later from the people by means of a special tax. The very people who were bearing the brunt of the Viking attacks were now called upon to pay their tormentor’s bribes. To add insult to injury, the Danegeld tended to increase rather than prevent Viking raids, since the offer of protection money simply attracted other Vikings. No matter how expedient his reasons, Charles was unwisely trusting gold to do the work of steel.
The only silver lining for the Parisians – although it must not have seemed so at the time – was that it took Charles nearly two months to raise the necessary money. During that time, dysentery took a serious toll on Ragnar’s army. So many Vikings died, that the Parisians viewed it as a miracle, claiming that saint Germain was (belatedly) punishing the Norsemen for defiling his abbey.
As soon as Ragnar was paid, the spoils were loaded onto the ships, along with a heavy iron bar from the city gate to prove that he had taken the city. He proceeded in easy stages down the Seine, taking the time to plunder the trading and fishing ports along the coastline. He and his men arrived in Denmark fantastically wealthy, and with reputations to match. Ragnar himself presented the loot to king Horik, boasting about how easy it was to obtain. The only resistance he met, he reportedly said, was from the long-dead saint Germain. The implication was clear. The days of Charlemagne were gone. There was nothing now to fear from the Franks.
Ragnar may have been right about Charles the Bald, but not every Frankish ruler was weak. Charles’ powerful half-brother, Louis the German, the immediate southern neighbor of Horik, was not amused by Viking raids, and had immediately sent a delegation to the Danish king to demand the return of all Frankish goods. This was no idle request. A word from Louis would send an imperial army flooding into Denmark, in numbers and quality that Horik couldn’t hope to resist. Embarrassingly for the Viking king, these east Frankish delegates had been present for Ragnar’s little speech, and they made it clear that if Horik wanted to prevent a war he would have to accept Louis the German as his overlord.
Horik had no choice but to give in. As galling as it might have been for him to submit, there was at least one upside. He now had an official excuse to confiscate the spoils that had made Ragnar dangerously popular in Denmark. The Parisian loot was soon on its way to Louis the German along with all of the Dane’s Christian prisoners, and although Horik had no control over individual Viking raiders – most of Ragnar’s men seem to have left his territory – he did withdraw his official support for their attacks to mollify Louis the German. This submission seems to have been serious on Horik’s part. Not only did he send regular gifts and embassies for the duration of his reign, but in a clever political move to get rid of potential rivals, he allegedly rounded up the few of Ragnar’s men that had stayed in Denmark and had them executed.
Ragnar himself seems to have survived the purge, although accounts differ as to what exactly happened to him. The Franks claimed that he died of dysentery, but this is probably wishful thinking since he is mentioned by later English and Irish chroniclers as successfully raiding the shores of the Irish Sea as well as northern Scotland and the Western Isles.
His exile, whether self-imposed or as a result of official banishment, provided fodder for his myth to grow; a legendary warrior haunting the shores of the Atlantic seaboard like an early Francis Drake. His wealth must have been the stuff of Viking dreams. In the twelfth century an inscription to him was carved into the wall of an ancient tomb in the Orkneys, an archipelago in northern Scotland by a traveling scholar: “This mound was raised before Ragnar Lothbrok’s (tomb)… His sons were brave, smooth hide men though they were… It was long ago that a great treasure was hidden here. Happy is he that might find it.”
That reference to his sons, four boys who would follow in their father’s footsteps, do not seem to have brought Ragnar much comfort. According to a thirteenth century Icelandic Saga, he admitted that his desire for fame and fortune was partly out of fear that his sons – especially his oldest, Ivar the Boneless – would eclipse him. Perhaps it was this that drove him relentlessly on.
In any event, the family was soon allowed to return to Denmark. In 854, Horik and most of the royal household were slaughtered by a disgruntled nephew, and the exiles were welcomed home. Ragnar may or may not have made the trip; his end is as obscure as his beginning. Almost all the stories, however, agree that he died as a proper Viking should: while raiding. Several stories are told of his demise, from being killed by a botched attack on the Isle of Anglesey, to dying in turf war with other Vikings off the coast of Ireland.
The most famous story, however, is that he was shipwrecked off the English coast in a freak storm. The Anglian king Aella of Northumbria, who’s lands had been a favorite target of Viking raids, overwhelmed the survivors as they scrambled up the beach, and seized Ragnar. Relishing the opportunity to dispatch his tormentor, the king came up with a unique form of execution. Ragnar was thrown into a pit of vipers and left to die. When his famous breeches protected him from the bites, Aella hauled him out, had him stripped, and threw him back in again. The old fox, now lying naked and mortally wounded, looked up at Aella unbowed, and sang a Viking battle hymn:
“It gladdens me to know that Odin makes ready the benches for a banquet. Soon we shall be drinking ale from the curved horns. The champion who comes into Valhalla does not lament his death. I shall not enter his hall with words of fear upon my lips. The Æsir will welcome me. Death comes without lamenting. Eager am I to depart. The Valkyries summon me home. I laugh as I die.”
The Thirteenth century Icelandic Saga of Ragnar Lothbrok
His final words, gasped out as he was dying, were a warning to Aella. “When the boar bleats, the piglets come.”
The story is undoubtedly apocryphal, but it is true in at least one respect. Lindisfarne and Iona had only been a taste of the Viking storm that was about to break on England. When Ragnar’s son Bjorn Ironside heard of his father’s death, he supposedly gripped his spear so tightly that it left an impression in the wood; his younger brother Halfdan crushed a chess piece so forcefully that it made his fingers bleed. If the Northumbrian king did indeed kill Ragnar, then hopefully he enjoyed his triumph while it lasted. The piglets were on their way.
