The question then becomes, just how well can a sword cut? Seemingly a simple question, but first we have to decide what type of sword we are talking about.
The Iron Age sword, the Viking sword and the early medieval sword were pretty close to being in the same broad category. Generally about 29–33 inches in length, with a width of about 2 inches, most had only a slight taper, and some no taper at all. During the later part of the Viking Age the sword assumed a slightly more tapering configuration, but this is covered better in the section on sword design.
Reproduction medieval sword. HRC46.
These swords weighed in the general area of 2–3 pounds. Balance would, of course, be slightly different for each sword, but generally the balance was what the owner desired, and he might make changes to suit himself.
So what can this type of sword do? The answer is that it can do much more damage than many people think, but not near the damage as portrayed in many books and movies.
I know how well I can cut. I know how well I have been able to cut, and I know how well I do now at the age of 66 (at the time of writing this chapter). The best cut I ever made with a sword was with a Japanese-style blade I was testing to destruction. I sheared a 3-1/8 inch sapling in half, and the length of the cut was 6-1/2 inches along the diagonal. I have seen a better cut made by Jim Fikes, a blacksmith friend of mine in Alabama. But I have no illusions as to how this compares with a 10th century warrior who had grown up using a sword.
It is with this understanding that I have undertaken a great many experiments with swords on how well they cut, and how well they cut armor. But for more on how to cut, see chapter 13.
So to answer the question: could the sword make the huge cuts described in the sagas and other historical sources? Not only do the archeological data support that conclusion, my own attempts at cutting do, too. Will they make them every time? Many factors, including type of sword, strength and placement of the blow, and opponent's armor (or lack thereof) and age (and therefore bone density), enter into the equation.
Sources and further reading suggestions from Hank:
General history:
Ffoulkes, Charles & EC Hopkinson, Sword, Lance & Bayonet, Cambridge University Press, 1938.
Oman, Sir Charles, The Art of War in the Middle Ages. Greenhill Books, London, first printed 1924.
Oakeshott, Ewart, The Archeology of Weapons. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, first printed in 1960.
Oakeshott, Ewart, The Sword in the Age of Chivalry. The Boydell Press, Woodbridge, first published 1964, reprinted 1994.
On dueling:
Hutton, Alfred, The Sword and The Centuries. Charles E. Tuttle, Company, Rutland. First printed 1901, Tuttle edition 1973.
Truman, Ben C., The Field of Honor. Fords, Howard & Hulbert, New York, 1884.
Millingen, J.G, History of Duelling, Vols. I & II. Richard Bentley, London, 1841.
Powell, George H., Dueling Stories of the Sixteenth Century. A.H. Bullen, London, 1904.
Silver, George, Paradoxes of Defense. First published 1599.
Archeology:
Thordeman, Bengt, Armour from the Battle of Visby 1361, Volumes I & II. Almquist & Wiksells, Uppsala, 1939.
Fiorato, Veronica, Anthea Boylston & Christopher Knusel, Blood Red Roses:The Archeology of a Mass Grave from the Battle of Towton AD 1461, Oxbow Books, Oxford, 2000.
Contemporary Literary Sources:
Caesar, Julius (102–44 BC), Commentaries on the Gallic War.
Caesar, Julius (102–44 BC), Commentaries on the Civil War.
Marcellinus, Ammianus, Res Gestae, AD 353–378.
Norse sagas including Njal's Saga and Egil's Saga.
de Joinville, Jean, Memoirs. His memoirs can be found in The Chronicles of the Crusades, translated by Margaret Shaw. Penguin, London, 1963.
The Song of Roland, translated by Dorothy Sayers. Penguin Books, New York, 1957.
Froissart, translated by Geoffrey Brereton, Chronicles. Penguin Books, Baltimore, 1968.
Plymire, David V., High Adventure in Tibet, revised edition. Trinity Print'n Press, Ellendale, North Dakota, 1983.
[1] New York Times, August 11, 1891.
[2] E.g. In 1415 at the battle of Agincourt the Duke of York died of exhaustion and heatstroke in his armor, as cited by Ewart Oakeshott, A Knight and his Armour, page 26. 1961 Lutterworth Press, London.
—Whit Williams
[3] The French actually petitioned the British government asking them to discontinue its use. —Peter Fuller
5: The Viking and Early Medieval Sword
The sword in use during the Roman period was the gladius. The barbarians they fought used a longer cutting sword. The gladius was a very efficient sword, and one that was designed to be used as part of an integrated military system. But as a weapon for single combat, it wasn't all that good. The shield the Romans carried was quite heavy, and in one-on-one combat the Romans lacked the maneuverability to be able to defend themselves properly. Like the pike, it was formidable in mass, but not too good in single combat. As the empire began to decay and more and more barbarians not only flooded the empire but enlisted in the legions, the gladius was gradually discarded and by the fall of the empire in the fifth century the spatha replaced it. The spatha was the ancestor of the Viking sword and the knightly sword of the European middle ages.
In the year 793 AD, the Anglo-Saxon Chronicles record that "heathen men" ravaged and sacked God's church in Lindisfarne. Lindisfarne is a small island off of the east coast of England and had a church and an abbey. This was the first recorded raid of those we call the Vikings, and marks the beginning of the "Viking Age."
Reproduction spatha. HRC54.
For the next three hundred years a people known as being tough, hardy, adventurous, and also cruel and murderous shook Europe. The Vikings were made up of Danes, Norwegians, and Swedes. The Europeans noted little difference, and called them all Danes, Vikings or Northmen. In their time they sailed to the New World, settled Iceland and Greenland, settled and conquered parts of England and France, served as bodyguards to the Emperor of Byzantium, plundered and pillaged in the Mediterranean. Their descendents, the Normans, conquered Sicily.
Today their reputation is varied: some think of them as settlers, traders and adventurers, while others considered them merely murderous barbarians. But all agree on one thing: they could fight.
What weapons did they use in their three-hundred-year spread throughout Europe? In reality, their weapons were little different from those used by most of Europe: swords, axes, spears and bows. They also used a halberd. We are fortunate in that there are a fair number of their weapons still in existence. Many are grave finds, some are river finds, and some have shown up with no provenance known. We have good examples of all of their weapons except one, the halberd. We'll cover their other weapons and armor in the next chapter. In this chapter we'll discuss their sword.
THE VIKING SWORD
The Vikings valued their swords greatly, and would hand them down to their sons. Oft times the swords would bear delightful names like Tyrfing or Mimming, or more descriptive names like Leg Biter, or Widowmaker. The famous Viking Thorolf had a sword he called "Lang," which meant "long." His brother, Egil, had a sword he called "Viper." There was one called "Skofnung" personified by its owner King Hrolf as follows: "Skofnung bites and rings aloud in their skulls for it was the nature of Skofnung that it sang aloud when it felt bone."
The Viking sword, like the modern handgun, was a weapon that could be carried on the person all day, and usually was. Most weighed about 2-1/2 pounds, some a little more, some a little less.
The Viking used two types of swords. One was single-edged and was used more by the Norweigians than the rest; it was given the name "long sax." This sword is curious, as the back can curve down to the edge at the point in one sword, but in another the edge will curve up the back.
Reproduction sax. From the collection of Peter Fuller.
Photo by Peter Fuller.
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sp; The most popular was the second type, the double-edged sword. This sword was about 30–32 inches in length, with a width of about 2 inches. It was a single-handed sword, and the grip was usually of wood covered with a wrapping of leather. But since this was an entirely personal thing, there was great variation. As with most early European swords, the two edges were parallel, then curved gently to a rounded point. One thing this rounded point will do is allow the sword to be used as if it were a longer blade, as discussed below.
Viking and other early medieval swords differ primarily in decoration and style. Most Viking swords have pommels that are lobated, with three to five lobes. Many of the later Viking swords have wheel pommels, essentially the same as many early medieval swords. The Viking also had "cocked-hat" and "brazil nut" style pommels. So it's basically the location of the find that indicates if a sword is Viking or early medieval; the blade shape is pretty much the same for both kinds of swords.
Lobated pommel
Wheel, cocked-hat & brazil nut pommels (below, left to right).
Reproduction Ulfberht sword; see Chapter 2 to view the name inscribed on the reverse side. HRC210.
As mentioned above, early Viking swords had blades whose edges were parallel, with a rounded point. These early blades were pattern welded. In this process, as discussed in an earlier chapter, small strips of steel were twisted with small strips of iron. The two were forged together, and then a hard steel edge was usually welded to the pattern-welded core. When completed and polished, this produced a blade of exceptional beauty. Sometime in the early 10th century the ability to produce a large enough bloom of steel to make a full sword was developed. Although the process didn't happen overnight, all steel swords became the norm. These steel swords also had a slightly different shape. Instead of the edges being parallel, there was a defined slope to the point. The point was still rounded, but the slope put weight closer to the hand, thereby making them somewhat quicker on the stroke and on the return. These new swords all had the name "Ulfberht" engraved on the blades. It's fun to speculate how this sword was developed and who this person was.
Often the blade was polished bright, and the fuller (the slight indentation designed to lighten the blade) would have a pattern that the smith had designed beforehand. This design could look like mown hay, a ladder, or chevrons, or many other things.
MYTHS ABOUT THE VIKING SWORD
Viking and medieval swords have been the subject of many myths that are only now being dispelled. I have often heard it said that the Viking sword was a crude, clumsy weapon, suitable only for slashing and wild swings. Nothing could be further from the truth. Handled with skill, it was capable of thrusting and cuts that could easily take off a leg at the thigh.
It has been stated that Viking and medieval swords are so heavy that a modern man can barely lift one, much less fight with it. The fact that the average weight is between two and three pounds is completely ignored. It has also been stated that many Viking and medieval blades were made from steel so tough that it is superior to modern steel, and you will also hear that Viking and medieval swords were made of metal so poor in carbon content and so poorly tempered that they bent under each blow.
The truth is that some swords were poorly made, and some swords were excellent. It was impossible to be consistent in manufacture as they usually didn't have consistent ore, nor was the importance of carbon understood.
Curiously enough, the European sword appears to be the only one where the pommel acts as a counterweight to the sword. Although the evidence is too sketchy to be presented as a fact, the practice seems to have started sometime around the 7th to 8th century AD. (Although some Japanese swords have long tangs which help in the balance of the sword, there were no weighted pommels.) Weighting the pommel changes the balance of the sword and allows a heavier blade to be manipulated as if it were a much lighter sword.
Two of the more common myths, and two that are quite widely accepted, concern the use of the sword as well as its design. It has been stated many times that the Viking and the early medieval swords were not suitable for thrusting, indeed, they probably did not use, or even know, of the thrust. These statements are made in spite of numerous drawings and comments to the contrary in both medieval and Viking literature. As proof, they point to the point (bad joke intended, as I have no shame). The points of many Viking swords, and early medieval, are quite rounded and somewhat spade-shaped.
It has long been assumed that in any combat between two warriors armed with swords, all blows were struck so that the sweet spot of the weapon would be the section of the blade delivering the blow. Although the sword was sharpened for its full length, the other sections were of secondary importance to the optimal striking point. At first glance this makes sense; in a life and death struggle you want to do as much damage as you can. (Of course, it is possible to use the sword as a knife, and slice your opponent if you have the chance, but a heft cut is more effective, and what we'll discuss in this section.)
Now, if the blade on a Viking sword or early medieval sword was about 33 inches long, as it often was, then the optimal striking point will be about 22 inches from the guard (this distance can vary due to shape and size of the blade). Swords whose primary purpose was to deliver a strong and penetrating thrust have fairly narrow blades, and sharp points. This can be seen in swords dating back to the "rapiers" of the Bronze Age. A narrow blade and point allows more pounds to the square inch pressure to be applied, and not only will it penetrate flesh, it also can split the iron rings of mail.
With this information in mind, it is easy to conjecture about the use of the Viking sword. Relatively close-in fighting, strong, heavy blows with no attempts to use the point would be the norm. There would be a little "science" and tactics, but mainly the fight would be one of an exchange of heavy blows.
A little experimentation can really change your mind about some things. A careful reading of the Norse sagas will show that mail was popular, but not near as prevalent as it became in the later Middle Ages. Most duels and skirmishes were fought without mail coats. For example, at the Battle of Stamford Bridge, Harold Godwinson defeated the King of Norway, Harald Hardrade. The well armed and armored Saxon army caught the Northmen by surprise, and it was recorded that none of them had mail shirts and only a few had helmets. Before the armor could be retrieved, the battle was lost.
You can see from this that mail was an important item of defense. But this occurred in 1066 AD, in what is considered the final onslaught of the Vikings. But mail had been accumulating over hundreds of years, and the price was going down. Early on, it was only the wealthiest of chieftains and warriors who could afford a mail shirt. Even then many chose not to wear it, regardless of their wealth. Egil Skallagrimson and his brother Thorolf chose not to wear mail in the battle between Hring and Adils (about 940 AD). Many felt that it simply slowed them down, and on shipboard mail could be a real nuisance if you suddenly had to swim for another ship.
CUTTING WITH THE VIKING SWORD
I have been using pork shoulder roasts for testing mail for quite some time. Pigs are similar to man in many ways, though the skin is much tougher and more resistant. But for this sort of testing it really doesn't matter. In the past I had been concerned with the cutting power of various swords, and how well they would cut through a mail shirt, and the best type of backing for the mail. But this time it was different. What I was interested in was testing those myths about Viking swords, seeing what was the difference in cutting ability between the optimal striking point and the first few inches of the point. How did it work in bare meat, and how well did it cut when the flesh was protected by mail? Also of equal importance was the thrust: How well did the sword penetrate, and how was the penetration when mail was used? I certainly didn't expect a rounded point to penetrate mail or flesh with the ease of a narrow point, but was the difference great or minor? This I aimed to find out.
Original Viking swords are rare and rather expensive. But blades quite similar are available. H
aving been lucky enough to have examined several up close, it was rather easy to get some blades that would correspond to old ones. The most important factor was that the blades had to have a rounded point, but also that the distal[1] taper be very flat within a couple of inches of the point. This would correspond to the majority of Viking swords examined.
One variable over which there is no control is mail. Mail came in all shapes and sizes, some thick, some thin. Made individually, each shirt would be slightly different. So I settled on what was available to me.
From Museum Replicas, Ltd., I got a mail shirt. I can't say I borrowed it, as they knew well enough that it was going to be destroyed. So they gave it to me with a cheerful "hack away." It took me several days for the local supermarket to come up with a suitable roast, one that weighed in at twelve pounds with a good thick bone, like a man's thigh. Then it was necessary to select the proper sword. I selected a replica blade that I had lying around. I had Eddie Floyd, who has been at a lot of Blade Shows with me, to thin the blade and round the point to the proper shape and dimensions. I also selected an old sword that was in excellent condition. This was a sword with a rather mysterious past. The blade, straight, with no taper, but an excellent distal taper, appears to have been made in the late 18th century. But the guard and pommel appeared older. The grip had rotted away. The blade is in excellent condition. The original pommel (which was on it when I got the sword in 1968) had been lost in a move. I had replaced it and then added a grip. This gave me two swords, both with Viking-like blade geometry.
Hank Reinhardt's The Book of the Sword Page 8