Ancestry

In January 2016 I wrote this for the local writers’ group I belong to. Although it is a fictional story, there are some facts which relate to my ancestry. However, any resemblance to reality is pure coincidence.

The photo above, which I took in the 1960s, is of a replica ninth-century Viking longship called the Hugin. Situated on the clifftop of Pegwell Bay, Ramsgate in Kent, the Hugin was a gift from the Danish government in 1949, to commemorate the 1500^th anniversary of the arrival in Kent of the Viking brothers Hengist and Horsa, who settled in the area.

The audio version is on Anchor: https://anchor.fm/dashboard/episode/e1k5adb

Ancestry

Leading up to my early retirement, created by my redundancy at Easter nearly three years ago, I made plans for the future, and this included my long-held desire to look into my family history. Therefore, with part of my redundancy money, I bought a laptop computer so my wife Sheila and I no longer needed to share, and I subsequently joined a genealogy site.

I learned that the Scottish side of my family was descended from Norwegians, way back, which didn’t surprise me. My father, to whom I bore a strong resemblance, was tall and blond and of definite Nordic appearance. With perseverance and increasing amazement, I managed to trace the family line back to the Vikings. It was a long process and confirmed that our surname was a slight variation on Sven, a warrior of fierce reputation in his day (and a relative to avoid, if you ask me!), but I tried to discover more about his ancestors and descendants, though information from the 12^th century and before was understandably sparse. Some of the details were in Norwegian, but I printed all of relevance and looked in history books to learn more.

Armed with as much as the ancestry site had so far yielded, in the September Sheila and I spent a week in Scotland, based in the town where my grandfather had been born and raised before “emigrating” to England’s East coast. We discovered a few facts about my immediate ancestors, took photos of my grandfather’s childhood home and even met the current residents. The pair of us also made a “pilgrimage” to the village bearing the family name, though no relatives were living there by then. However, via Tourist Information, I managed to trace one of my distant cousins, James, who turned out to be a well-known local historian. Sheila and I arranged to meet him for lunch at the town’s museum and spent a wonderful afternoon exchanging family news, both past and present, and looking at the artefacts on display in the glass cases. We got along so well that he invited us to dinner the next evening and, while James and I chatted about our mutual interest, Sheila and his wife Margaret got to know each other and became firm friends almost instantly.

After this, Sheila took a greater interest in my research and suggested I try to find more of my living relatives in Scotland, England and even Norway. The Scandinavian link in particular seemed a longshot, so I concentrated on the British branch. With help, via email exchanges and the occasional telephone conversation with James, I manged to get in electronic contact with two more cousins, Jennifer in Northumberland and Duncan in Edinburgh. Meanwhile, Sheila was busy on her computer pursuing a different line of enquiry, as it turned out. As autumn and winter turned into spring, she began making plans for my 65^th birthday celebrations in June and we hired a function room at a local hotel, with catering provided. Having become so friendly with James and Margaret, and being keen to meet Jennifer, Duncan and their families, we sent them invitations and were delighted when they all accepted, assuring us that they would be booking into the hotel where the party was to be held. Of course, our immediate family members were top of our invitation list and were also looking forward to the get-together.

By a stroke of good luck, my birthday, 20^th June, was on a Saturday, and the day sped by. Sheila and I were at the venue from 6 p.m. to make sure all preparations had been made, and less than an hour later our two daughters arrived with their husbands and children, followed by the rest of the family. Our son Michael had sent his mum a text to say he would be late, but he gave no reason. Although his wife arrived with their young children, there was still no explanation for Michael’s delayed arrival.

The party got underway quickly with everyone chatting and catching up on news. Our distant cousins from further north were introduced to all our other guests and we did our best to make them feel welcome, spending the early part of the evening getting to know them in person. As quiet, friendly people, they fitted in well and were soon discussing their links to us, often mentioning names and places familiar to them but which, till then, we’d known little of. Despite all the conversations, Michael’s absence did not go unnoticed. However, as neither of our wives seemed concerned, I put it down to a genuine hold-up somewhere.

Just before 8 p.m. Michael arrived, full of apologies and saying that he was late because he’d had to pick up my birthday present. I wondered what on earth it could be. However, I didn’t have to wait long. He asked me to close my eyes, and I heard him walk out of the room, returning a minute later when he told me to open them. What I saw was beyond belief and I thought I was dreaming as there, standing in front of me, were six Vikings – three men and three women of varying ages, with the men dressed as warriors carrying swords and shields and wearing helmets (minus horns!) and the women attired in the long skirts we had seen at the Jorvik Centre a few years before.

At this point, Sheila stepped forward, welcoming them and thanking them for making the long journey. One of the warriors, in friendly fashion, said that the flight had taken just under two and a half hours and had been much quicker than if they had sailed here by longboat! I laughed with them all, relieved that he, at least, spoke English and seemed less fierce than his appearance. He introduced his little group as my long-lost relatives from Oslo and thanked Michael for meeting them at Heathrow in the afternoon and driving them to the hotel before going home to get himself changed for the party. By this time, all the family had gathered round the Scandinavians and were keen to know their names and welcome them to Britain.

The eldest of the warriors introduced himself as Alex, adding that his full name was too long to use other than on official documents! His female companions were his wife Freya, their daughter Brigit and his sister Karin. The men were also relatives – brother Ragnar with his son Niels. They all spoke good English and in no time were chatting to everyone and telling us how much they were enjoying the company, food and drink and how wonderful it had been when Sheila had invited them to this celebration. They made it clear they were not warriors, despite their costumes, but all belonged to a Viking society back home, which was designed more to entertain and teach people about their heritage than to engage in mock battles. It transpired that Alex was a History lecturer, while Freya taught English, and Ragnar and Karin both worked at a museum. Brigit and Niels were still at university, studying History, with bright futures ahead.

When I had a moment, I took Sheila to one side and asked who they were exactly and how they had been invited. She then quickly revealed that she had been doing some research of her own into my Norwegian background and though it had proved difficult, with much time spent getting nowhere, she had eventually had a lucky break coming across Alex Svenson on the same ancestry site. He was looking for British people with a similar surname, in the hope they might be related. In this cause, he had found a Scottish lawyer who lived in Sutherland and was related to Duncan in Edinburgh. After much research on everyone’s part, it seemed that I had not only Duncan and Jennifer as “new” cousins, but also the gentleman in Sutherland as well as Alex and family related to me, albeit distantly.

This all seemed quite amazing, and I was keen to chat to Alex and Duncan about it. I asked Sheila how long they were staying – all the British family members were leaving on Tuesday, while the Vikings were here till the next weekend. Armed with this information, I asked Sheila if we could perhaps arrange to have dinner with all our guests before they left. She said this was already booked for the next evening in the restaurant at this hotel and I was the last to know!

After the buffet meal, I was given some wonderful presents by my guests and our Norwegian friends invited us all to a Viking festival which was taking place locally the next day to celebrate the summer solstice. While there would be no actual sun worshipping, there would be demonstrations of Viking life, including their arts and crafts, warrior battles and Viking food and drink available to sample. Alex then announced they would be leaving for a short while to go to their hotel rooms to get changed as they hoped to dance when the music started, this feat being relatively impossible for a fully clad warrior! They returned in smart casual, modern clothes and joined in the merriment as the evening fled by.

Before taking our leave of our guests, all of whom had just a short walk within the hotel to their rooms, Sheila and I helped to organise transport for everyone so they could attend the Viking festival. Michael and I offered to drive them all, in groups, from the hotel in the late morning and back again in the late afternoon, where we’d all meet in the evening for a meal.

We had a lovely day at the festival and learned so much! Our Norwegian friends answered our questions about all that was going on, and even knew some of the participants – all of whom were of Scandinavian origin. We took photos and were delighted that the sun shone brightly throughout the day. Our guests got to know each other well and were invited to our house for lunch the next day. Unfortunately, our immediate family members couldn’t join us, as it was back to work and school for them.

The next morning we accompanied our British relatives to King’s Cross station for their journeys to their respective homes, then the Norwegians kept us company for their remaining few days in London, and we took them sightseeing. When it was time for them to fly home, we were very sorry to see them leave but promised to keep in touch by email and think about their very kind invitation to spend Yuletide with them.

I am pleased to say that Sheila and I did travel to Oslo for the festive season and, between the emails and seeing them in person, we have become good friends and learned a lot more about Norway, Viking history and a little of the language. However, that is all for another chapter…

© Chasqui Penguin, 2021

Twitter: @ChasquiPenguin