Long knife or small sword?

No, Norse saxes / scramasaxes / seaxes (let's call them long-knives for simplicity) didn't have a blade with a broken back – that's mostly an Anglo-Saxon fashion.

Nice knife, just don't sell it as "viking"

No, Norse long knives did not have a handle made of stacked contrasting woods, or bone, with metal bolsters and spacers – that's a modern cutlery thing; and they did not have a handle made of a raw bone or antler – that's our modern silly view of what looks "ancient" and "authentic".

Very pretty handles, but no.
(and again, broken back)

Nice work, but again with this handle, no.
(and again, broken back)

No, Norse long knives did not have a miniature sword guard and pommel – single-edged swords are a different thing, and whether these were referred to as sax in Old Norse is actually possible but mostly beside the point today.

Urgh, whaa... errrr... no I just can't (and broken back).
Most likely inspired by swords like this Swedish find
on the right, which are, you know, sword-sized
(and incidentally have the edge on the other side of the blade).

No, Norse long knives were not worn hanging vertically like a dagger or hunting knife, or horizontally across the buttocks like so many reenactors do – there were worn at the front, horizontally or at a slight angle, the edge facing upwards.

That's me quite a few years ago. And that "scram" worn across the arse was far from being the worst detail...

Shoutout to Vinland Saga, which for a manga has overall a nice historical accuracy, but has tons of completely wrong combat knives everywhere.

Now that's more like it!
(though it's not exactly the proper context, Carolingian 9th century).

But that's not the point of this post. Today's question is: what the hell were these long knives used for?

Before getting into the thick of the matter, I suggest (for people who like a long read) to have a look at this excellent article on the evolution of Scandinavian long knives.
  To be more specific, the type of Viking Age long-knives we're interested in today – which is incidentally the most eye-catching and the most often emulated, with various degrees of accuracy, by reenactors – is the typically East-Norse long-knife fully encased in a sheath adorned with copper-alloy mounts, often stamped, openwork and with step-patterns – these sheaths are also discussed in detail here.
   And if you don't want to read all of that, you can jump to a final note for reenactors.

Not this.

Not this.

Not this.

This.

The origin of this specific fashion of long-knives is also debatable, probably at the crossroads between East-Baltic combat knives and pre-existing Germanic big knives of various kind, but this is, again, beside the point today.

So, what were these long-knives used for? There are many hypotheses roaming the internets on that matter, but essentially none of them holds water, and now we'll see why (and we'll also see what I suggest is a more likely role fulfilled by these exquisite edged implements).
  

It's a weapon of war!

The most common narrative, due to the large blade, cool factor and general expectations about anything viking, is to consider that the long-knife is a weapon. It is typically presented (I used to say that too!) as something "that every warrior would wear", a last-resort weapon for hand-to-hand combat. This assumption is based on the "obvious" fact that all professional combatants in history would be equipped with the weapon triad: specialist battlefield weapon (spear, halberd, bow, gun...), plus "medium-range" sidearm (sword, axe, pistol...), plus knife/dagger for close-quarters. This is even reinforced by the description of Norsemen by Ibn-Fadlân, according to whom "every one of them carries a sword, and axe and a knife".
   Sometimes, given the very substantial blade, comparable in size to some ancient swords, the long-knife is instead considered as a main weapon, that some would have chosen to wield instead of a sword or axe. After all, in many instances in the sagas of Icelanders, when the weaponry of protagonists is described (like before a battle), people (including affluent ones) are described as carrying a "sax and shield", and in some scenes it is clear that the "sax" is single-edged.

HOWEVER.
   First and foremost, the design of the long-knife (in its Norse, and mostly Swedish and Rus variant) is rather awful as a weapon. The high-quality, multi-bar blade is a sturdy cleaver and also has a wickedly sharp point – that's a good start. But the problem lies with the grip. Well-preserved finds show that the handle was minimalistic, without the slightest pommel or cross-guard, without even any shaping or texturing on the grip to assist with grip retention while cutting, stabbing or parrying. That means that disarming can be relatively easy, losing the knife when cutting against something hard is a possibility, and having fingers sliding onto one's own blade when stabbing is a very real risk. On top of that, being slender, smooth, oval in cross-section, with parallel sides, the grip wasn't even well-adapted for precise handling of such a large blade. All of these issues can to some extent be circumvented by adapting the gripping technique, and a weapon doesn't have to be very good and effective to be culturally considered a weapon, but at any rate, if the long-knives were meant to be weapons for actual combat, in terms of general design they were not very good ones.

Regarding their combat role, either as close-quarter last-resort knife, or as an option of main weapon to be used in conjunction with a shield, none of these options really makes any sense.
   A combat knife needs to be drawn in a fraction of a second, in situations where the user is already actively engaged in close-quarter combat or grappling. That works with most medieval daggers, that works with modern military knives, but that doesn't work at all for Norse long-knives which are not only very long (thus slow to draw), but are worn in sheaths that almost entirely enclose the grip. Typically only about one centimetre sticks out, and the grip's butt-plate is adorned with a ring through which a strap or loop would go, in order to help with the extraction of the knife. If we add to that the need for a fiddly process to optimise the grip, we end up with several veeeery long seconds in order to get the knife ready to fight with (all involving a cord that might be dangling randomly, might be tangled somewhere, or could have been ripped away in earlier combat) - no good at all for an emergency weapon. Moreover, historical sources about Viking Age close-combat (that it, essentially interpretations of the Sagas) make no mentions of knives of any sort being used – the main focus is on bare-handed grappling (glíma, of high cultural significance), with sometimes impromptu weapons such as stones being used; short axes are sometimes involved too.

Roland Warzecha (Dimicator) displaying his way of drawing and handling a long-knife with the assistance of the strap.

As for the use as a main weapon, it doesn't make much sense either. While comparable in size with some ancient short-swords, by Viking-Age standards, long-knives have less reach and less technical options than swords, less reach and less impact than even short axes, all with this terrible grip design. Their only advantage would reside in a better ability to stab through chainmail or thick clothing – again if not for the completely not suitable handle design, and for the fact that combatants fully encased in armour of any sort were essentially absent in this time period, so why not stab elsewhere. The reach is even so short that the blade wouldn't even go past the edge of one's own extended shield! And these knives are always found in rich graves with many other weapons, so there is no reason for anyone to choose them for battle over a sword or a battle-axe. The mentions of "sax and shield" in the Sagas are much more likely to have originally meant "single-edged sword and shield" in their original Viking-Age context, and might have designated "falchion and shield" in the mind of 13th-century authors. It might even just be a literary device to introduce diversity between the characters of the story, rather than a true recording through oral tradition of the wielding of single-edge swords. And never do the Sagas describe someone equipped with both a "sax" and another sidearm.

I bet that the 13th-century authors
of the sagas had in mind this...

... rather than that.

As for the arguments of the "triad of weapons" – turns out that this is a modern bias (that, and the aforementioned fact that the long-knife's blade profile is reminiscent of medieval mail-piercing daggers). With the notable exception of Roman legionaries carrying a pugio in addition to their pilum and gladius (but it might have been more of an everyday tool and/or badge of military honour than a weapon), the development of the triad of weapons in Europe seems to date to the 13th century at the earliest. While grave archaeology cannot tell us anything about which weapons were used together on the battlefield, knives and daggers are absent from all other historical sources. As mentioned above, the relevant textual sources (sagas, with due caution) make no mention of the wearing of a "sax" or "knife" in addition to a sword or axe. And the usual pictorial sources (Angle-Saxon and Carolingian illuminated manuscripts, the Bayeux tapestry etc.) never depict a warrior with more than two weapons equipped. It is also quite likely that Ibn-Fadlân's mention of wearing "axe, sword and knife" actually had everyday small knives in mind, and made that remark because the wearing of so many edged implements in a civilian context might have been surprising (by the way, unless we're talking about so-called Dane axes, it's not a proper triad, it's a pair of sidearms plus knife).

Duelling with a proper triad of weapons in the 15th century.
And in that armoured mess, being able drawing the rondel dagger instantly and securely is vital.

An important side-note should be made here regarding the long-knives with decorated sheaths found in Eastern Baltic lands (nowadays Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia). These finds are very common there, with a general desigh quite close to what it found among the Norse, but executed in a very different ornamental style. This includes the grips being fully encased in the sheath. Archaeology quite clearly indicates that long-knives as grave goods are placed along other weapons, indicating a combat role, or at least a combat symbolism, for the long-knives. However, these knives are part of a wider spectrum, which includes examples (both older and contemporary) which are much more suitable for a combat role, in particular due to the handle being properly shaped and left exposed from the sheath, allowing for an better drawing, and better handling of the weapon. It's possible that, faced with the increasing prevalence of double- and single-edged swords in these countries, the large knives progressively lost their primary function as a weapon and gradually became more and more of an ornamental item.

In summary, there are no good reasons to consider the Norse long-knives as weapons, in whichever combat role.
  

It's a hunting dagger! 

Based on size and social status, another use that is often proposed for these long-knives is that of a hunting dagger. Indeed, large daggers, or short swords, sometimes very ornate, were worn and used by the late medieval, Renaissance and early modern nobility who enjoyed the privilege of the hunt. While regular swords or various spears could be used too, these specialised hunting weapons were specifically designed for dispatching large game that had been wounded. This required the ability to penetrate through thick hides, and to either stab the heart, or to make a very abundantly bleeding wound.
   Again, in terms of blade design, it's a perfect match: the long, sturdy, pointy knife seems excellent for the job!

Fancy 15th and 18th century hunting daggers

HOWEVER.
   Again, the handle is the issue. While quick-drawing and reach are not relevant for a hunting dagger (like they would be for a combat knife), a secure grip, especially for stabbing, and some amount of hand protection, would be expected if long-knives were designed for finishing off wounded deers, bears and boars.
   The long-knife could have been more safely used for slitting the throat of the animal and bleeding it out, rather than stabbing it to death – although that's a slower death, relevant for slaughtering restrained domestic animals, but maybe not very suitable for dispatching dangerous, wounded wild animals.
   Going from there, long-knives could have been rather used for field-dressing and skinning the killed animals – the long and slender blade is rather suited for the job, but it would be much better if it were thinner. Long and thin knives were technologically available, but the high-status long-knives we're talking about had spines up to 10mm thick. The Oseberg knife for example, although relatively short by long-knife standards, has a 3.5mm thick spine, and most swords, while much longer than long-knives, have blades under 6mm thick at the hilt, and with a strong taper.

Even further down the line of harvesting and processing game, another context requiring large knives and associated with social status is the carving of meat. For some weird (and possibly prehistoric) reasons, until our days in Western culture, while the preparing of food was/is most often a female business happening in the kitchen, the carving of meat was/is a public matter, performed at the table by a "dominant male" (pater familias, master of household, you name it), to the extent where manuals for gentlemen on the technique and etiquette of meat-carving were printed among the earliest books of the Renaissance.
   Even more than the processing of a freshly killed animal in the wilderness, having the privilege of carving of a large piece of meat in front of guests during a banquet could have been a very symbolic thing in Norse society, which could warrant the use of a very ornate and fashionable tool (at least in the areas where this fashion was present). But just like for field-dressing, the blade profiles are not great. Some long-knives are too long, but more importantly most of them are too thick to be good at the job. If we look again at the Oseberg knife (which, as a reminder, is from a very-high-status, female, non-warrior grave), it has been identified as a large kitchen knife, and compared to our long-knives it has not only a different blade type (shorter, thinner, and more tapered) but also a much more practical grip shape.

Maybe this big knife from the Oseberg
ship burial is more about carving meat?

It isn't clear (to me at least) whether the hunting of large game was tied to a strict nobility privilege among the Norse, and whether there were any specific social expectations or restrictions related to the killing, skinning, or carving and serving of animals, which would justify that long-knives involved in such activities would be high-status objects.

In summary, the combination of blade and grip result in long-knives not being very suitable as hunting knives (be it for killing or for processing game), and not much better as knives for the “ritualised” carving of prepared meat. We need something else still.
  

It's an everyday tool!

Based on modern analogies, a dual use of the long-knives is often proposed, as an everyday tool in addition to its military or hunting role (echoing modern military knives which are far more often used to open tin cans than to fight, or bushcraft knives which carve more wood than meat respectively, or, going the other way around, large tool knives turned weapons such as the machete or the parang).  
   Given that the edge geometry of long-knives (a thick wedge) is similar to that of a hatchet, it's indeed tempting to imagine these blades being used, if not for killing, then for clearing brushwood, splitting kindling, carving makeshift camp equipment etc. It would dismiss the fact that the main tool for all these tasks is, indeed, the hatchet, but anyway.

HOWEVER.  
   This utility role, even more than for a supposed role as tertiary weapon, assumes that long-knives were very widespread, and that the high-end examples from around the Baltic were simply the top end of a spectrum that went from very plain examples to the most ornate ones through all possible levels of finish and decoration. Just like for pocket knives (well, belt knives actually), we would expect to find blades ranging from basic forging all the way to high-quality steel, multi-bar, decorated constructions, handles ranging from plain wood to engraved to wire-wrapped with brass or even silver, sheaths ranging from plain leather to embossed to decorated with metal fittings with all possible levels of refinement... We find none of that. There is a non-negligible amount of finds of bare blades (for which we can safely assume no metal fittings on the sheaths), one instance of embossed leather sheath, some quite-big-but-not-very-big knives with wire-wrapped handles, and then the extra-large, high-end examples discussed here. Are these objects even finds of the same continuum?... Admittedly we have far fewer finds of long-knive (of any quality) than of regular knives, so the statistics are not as robust, but there seem to be a dichotomy between "basic" vs. "high-end" with nothing inbetween.
   Additionnaly, among the large-bladed examples, there seem to be two significant differences between the blades found without any decorative fittings, and the high-status finds. First, the high-status blades are typically thicker, with spines from 5mm up to 10mm thick, whereas the bare blades are typically under 5mm thick – which makes them much easier to sharpen and maintain. And speaking of sharpening, the bare blades also often show signs of heavy sharpening (indicating intensive use), in particular closer to the grip (indicating heavy work requiring maximum strength), whereas the high-status blades show no such signs.
   The fact that the bare blades show signs of heavy use near the grip speaks in favour of a use as a tool (a weapon would need most sharpening near the tip, and would show signs of damage all over the blade), be it for the processing of food (see the hunting / skinning carving option above) or of other material. Could it be that our fancy shiny long-knives are embellished versions of something that is otherwise an everyday tool? Well, maybe, but unless a tool is worn as a fashion item or has a very high cultural significance (just having a large blade is not enough), it's not a common phenomenon. One doesn't find highly decorated hoes, kitchen knives, or hammers. Unless you're a fantasy dwarf of course!

Hammers for regular dwarves, for a master dwarf, and for a High Prince under the Mountain (by BrokksWorks)

But as amazing as these hammers might look, it's not something humans do. So if the fancy long-knives are decorated, it's because from a tool that's stored in a shed, they've become a fashion item that's being worn, and that implies that their practical role is not that of a tool, and their symbolic role has far exceeded that of a mere tool.
   And thus, we need yet another hypothesis.
  

It's a status symbol for the warrior elite!

Whether they evolved from Baltic battle knives, earlier Germanic seaxes, or from the ornamentation of lower-class large utility knives, or a combination thereof, it seems that the high-status long-knives with copper-alloy-decorated sheath are likely to have held no practical function at all, and where therefore essentially visual signals, fashion items, status symbols.
   Given their quality, decoration and find context usually in very rich graves, it's safe to say that they would have been a status symbol for a social elite – even more so given that they seem for have been a relatively local and short-lived fashion, and fashion is a marker of the elite par excellence. And given the nature of the object – not a foreign purse or jewellery item, but a very large blade possible descended from older or foreign battle knives – it's also safe to say that it would have been a symbol of blood and death, and thus a status symbol for the warrior elite.
   In what contexts would such long-knives would have been worn then? As mentioned they were most likely worn instead of, not in addition to, swords. This means that they would appear in a context where the wearing of sword would have been considered as inadequate. As this stage we enter the realm of speculation, but I have some historical parallels to draw from.
   One reason for which swords can be inadequate is practical, because swords are big and inconvenient to wear. They are the perfect warrior status symbol, both in terms of meaning and decoration, but in densely populated contexts (such as the city of Birka or the trading station of Gnëzdovo for example?) they can simply get in the way. A more compact, and almost as symbolic item to replace the sword might be a good thing to wear instead. Another reason for which swords can be inadequate is social: sometimes social norms ban the wearing of explicitly military items in a civilian context, sometimes in general (in the whole country, or the whole city), sometimes in specific contexts (at the court of the king, at religious ceremonies, etc.), sometimes for non-nobles only, sometimes for everyone. This can lead to the adoption of substitute status symbols, such as daggers of various kinds.
   A good example of such a sword-like substitute taking over the role of the sword in civilian fashion in the emergence of the smallsword in the 17th century. Before that, the rapier was queen of swords: coming in a huge variety of styles and qualities, it was a flamboyant fashion item, a fearsome duelling tool, as well as a prevalent weapon on the battlefield. But it was heavy, long, and after decades of horrendously bloody wars in addition to the duelling culture running out of control, European societies grew tired of seeing every man walking around with an overly large killing tool at his side. The rapier was thus gradually superseded by the smallsword, which was in principle reserved to the gentlemen.

Rapiers are so cool!

Rapiers are cool and sooo big.

Rapiers are horrible.

Maybe these will be better?...

While still a sword in name, the smallsword was was very far removed from the bloody realities of the battlefield. It was at the same time much more convenient to wear, was still a beautiful fashion item, and distinguished the (originally martial) nobility from the commoners, with specific social contexts where the wearing of the (small) sword would be reserved, even among the nobility, to a select few.
   One can thus imagine that the long-knives could have similarly emerged as substitute for swords which, for some reason, wouldn't be worn in civilian contexts anymore. One can even imagine (in addition to the question of banning the carrying of weapons of war in a city) a scenario where the carrying of any weapons would have been banned as some jarl's hall, but that select highly esteemed vassals or guests would have received such ornate knives as gifts from the ruler, and they would then have the privilege to wear these knives in the hall as a resplendent badge of their exceptional status in court.
   This is, of course, only my opinion, but I think that it works well with the available evidence and the practical interpretation of the finds. The long-knives would have been symbolic weapons, originally derived from older and foreign combat knives, and evolved into a fashion item that would be the pride of noble warriors. As any fashion, it caught on in some places, didn't in others, and only lasted for a while – but it left us with a number of awe-inspiring knives that of course everyone would want a replica of.
  

It's a duelling weapon!

Wait, what? Okay, I know I just mentioned the smallsword, but that was as a parallel regarding the wearing of an aristocratic status symbol!
   There is no source whatsoever, of any kind, that would suggest that duelling would be done with knives, let along long-knives specifically! Of course it is possible to duel with any type of agreed-upon set of weapons (including hot air balloons with shotguns, look it up), but unless that was a very local and short-lived custom among some upper-class Norsemen, which left no trace in neither art nor history, one can safely say that it was not designed or worn with duelling in mind!
  
  

FINAL NOTE FOR REENACTORS

As we've seen, the high-status long-knives with their beautifully decorated scabbards are most likely a status symbol for the warrior elite, serving as a symbolic substitute for the sword, worn only in civilian contexts and not used on the battlefield (or actually anywhere else, except for show).
   If you are a Norse / Viking reenactor, it would therefore be advisable that:

• In a combat context: do not wear or use any kind of long-knife, regardless of social status, time period and location.
• In a civilian context:
  • If you reenact a high-status man from the Mälaren area in Sweden, from the Baltic islands or from the Rus, you can wear one at your belt with your finest clothes, but without any other weapon.
  • If you reenact a middle- or low-status person, you might have a plainer long-knife in a simple sheath at your camp (but not worn on your belt) as a camp tool, but in much lower numbers than regular belt knives, kitchen knives, hatchets and tool axes of all kinds.

Thank you for reading, and I hope these thoughts can be of any use!
   Yours,
     Eiríkr

A few points about foreign inputs in Norse archery

Time flies! More than two years since part 1 and part 2, let's have some more!

This new post will focus on the foreign, and in particular eastern influence on Norse archery, in terms of both equipment and technique.

As discussed in part 1 (see reminder in pictures below), the native Norse bow was a simple longbow, typically made of yew (sometimes of elm or other woods of lesser quality), fashioned with long, back-bent ears. Through interactions with their neighbours and further travels, Vikings came in contact with other styles of bows and other practices of archery. In most of Europe it was different flavours of short or long selfbows, but two other types of bow were different enough (and in close contact enough) to warrant our attention today: the Sámi two-wood bow (tviviðr) to the North, and to the Southeast, the reflex composite bow, or horn-bow (hornbógi), of Steppic origin, encountered through contacts with the Magyar (Hungarians) who by the Viking Age were only recently settled after centuries of nomadic life as horse-archers (Hungarians/Huns, see?), and with the Byzantine who like the Western Roman empire before had adopted Eastern bows into their standard military equipment.

Yew longbow
ybógi

Sámi bow
tviviðr

Magyar bow
hornbógi

So, how did these bows compare with the Norse archery equipment, and what influence did they have?
   Compared to the yew longbow, the composite bow is much shorter, much more complex in construction (with layers of wood, horn, sinew, glue, bone, and leather or birch bark, all requiring months of processing and assembly), and had a distinct recurve-reflex geometry (where the limbs and the tips of the bow point forward when the bow is unstrung, and form a characteristic double-S curve when strung). The two-wood bow lies in between, in terms of length, complexity and shape. In terms of bow performance, the data is less clear and the comparison more subjective. Magyar composite bows were probably in the same range as Norse longbows in terms of draw weight (in the 50- to 100-pound range, with "typical" draw weight being somewhere in between), and two-wood bows were significantly weaker (up to 60 or 70 pounds max). The speed of the bows (the ability of a bow, for a given poundage, to launch a light arrow at high speed, providing greater accuracy and range) was probably barely better for the two-wood bow than for the yew longbow, but much better for the composite bow.
   Let's have a look at each of them in more details.

 

The Sámi two-wood bow

In terms of influence on the Norse, Sámi archery is a tricky one. The amount of cultural and technological exchange between the Norse and Sámi inhabitants of Scandinavia is difficult to estimate, and the archaeological finds are often difficult to attribute to one culture or the other. Finds of (fragments) of two-wood bows were recovered even in urban contexts southern Norway (with some stylistic variations), and the types and properties of recovered arrowheads are quite uniform across the entire peninsula, except for them getting a bit larger and heavier in the North. So there are no clear indicators of which people was using what.

Left: Sámi bow (intact belly) from Vibby bog, Överluleå
(Lulesápmi, modern-day Swedish Norrbotten)

Right: Culturally ambiguous fragments of two-wood bows from an ice patch in the Jotunheimen mountains (hunting grounds in central Norway) and from Bergen and Oslo (Norse urban context)

Literature doesn't help us either. The term "tviviðr" has only quite recently been identified as designating specifically the Sámi two-wood bow, but the word is anyway very rarely present in Old Norse literature, and only serves as a poetic or refined substitute for "bow", with no valuable details to be gleaned from the context.
   But by and large, I don't expect Sámi archery to have had a significant impact on Norse archery, because all in all the two-wood bow is not, in practical use, a very different concept than the longbow - it is different technological solution adapted to a different environment but with the same objectives. In regions where good quality bow-making wood was scarce, the two-wood bow combined the quality of two lesser timbers to emulate what would have been elsewhere achieved with yew alone.
   That doesn't mean that the Norse never acquired or made two-wood bows (it's particularly likely in the northernmost and harshest regions of Norse settlement, such as northern Norway, Iceland or Greenland), but it's unlikely that two-wood bows would have been particularly sought after when good quality longbows were available (unless a given tviviðr was believed to have magical properties, which the Norse often associated with the Sámi).

This find of a viking-age or high-medieval bow beautifully illustrates the mutual influence between the Norse and Sámi bow technology. Found in the Jotunheimen moutains in central Norway, its construction is clearly that of a two-wood bow - it's actually one of the only fragments of two-wood bow where both the back and belly slats were recovered. However, its shape, with quite narrow and thick limbs as well as short, lightly reflexed ears (and no string nock, implying that the string would be attached with a knot on that side), is almost more reminiscent of a Hedeby-style longbow than of a Sámi bow, which would typically have broad, flat limbs and long reflexed ears with symmetric string nocks.

In terms of archery technique, it is possible that the Norse (or locally some individual Norse people) learnt minute details from Sámi people, that were too subtle to be recorded in the historical evidence (even though minute details can be very important in archery). But in broad strokes, it seems that Sámi and Norse archery were quite similar. Evidence of Sámi archery techniques is peripheral and mostly much later than the Viking Age, but descriptions in travel accounts, depictions and even early photographs of Sámi or other Uralic archers show them using a more or less Mediterranean grip (two or three fingers gripping the string and the arrow nock, arrow on the inside of the bow), with a draw length neither particularly short not long, and a shooting stance, angled at the hips, commonly adopted by most historical archers using powerful bows across the globe.

 

The Eastern composite bow

On the other hand, there is much more influence to discuss regarding composite bows. Like for Sámi bows, Old Norse literature doesn't help us much. All occurrences of the word "hornbògi" come from late works, mostly relating legendary or exotic events, with very little value regarding real-world Viking-Age archery.
   But it is clear from archeology that Eastern (and in general foreign) imports were fashionable among the Norse. Magyar accessories (such as the tarsoly pouch) were abundant in places like Birka, Varangian service was a prestigious career, Rus elites blended Norse backgrounds with east-Slavic and Steppic influences... and archery is no exception. There are no finds that would prove that Byzantine bows were imported, but the presence of Magyar archery equipment is well documented in Norse archaeological contexts, with finds of fragment of typical Magyar quivers, bow cases, and arrowheads, in particular in Birka. A find from the Black Earth in Birka might also have been a fragment from a (locally made, or Magyar) composite bow.

The remains of one of the many
tarsoly pouches in Magyar style
found in Sweden.

Examples of typically Magyar arrowheads (three-bladed and broad lozenge) from Birka.

Fragments of Magyar archery gear found in the Birka grave Bj1125B, which belonged to a bow case (winged buckle, lower left) and a quiver, along with a reconstruction of how these typically looked.

This presence is particularly strong in the Birka Garrison, leading to the speculation that some of the mercenaries recruited there were Magyars - or maybe some Norse crew members really liked Magyar gear.
   It is however unlikely that horse-archery (a Magyar specialty) or even mounted combat in general would have been considered a key military asset on the tiny and hilly island of Birka.

In terms of technique, with composite bows always comes the question of the thumb grip. As the name suggests, the concept is to hook the bowstring with the thumb, most often assisting the thumb by closing other fingers on top of it. Due to the pain caused by the string digging into the thumb, especially with powerful bows, a thumb-ring is often used, which both protects the thumb when drawing and helps with a clean release when taking the shot. The thumb grip is typically Asiatic in origin (with the oldest known thumb-rings coming from China), and because it is particularly suitable for short bows, it is typically associated with composite bows, whether used on horseback or not.
   But would a Magyar archer (or a user of Magyar archery equipment, or of the Magyar archery style) use a thumb grip? It's unclear. Any Asiatic archer (meaning someone practicing Asiatic archery, irrespective of their ethnicity), when presented with a Magyar bow, would definitely shoot it with a thumb grip, as the Magyar bow is visibly of Asiatic lineage. But not a single early medieval thumb-ring has been found in what is now Hungary and surrounding countries, despite vast amounts of archery-related archaeological finds (although admittedly organic rings that would have decayed are a possibility). On the other hand, there is a quite mysterious worldwide scarcity of finds of thumb-rings in the early medieval period. Nowadays, traditional Hungarian archery horse-archery mostly uses the Mediterranean three-finger grip, but given that it is more of a revival than an unbroken tradition, it cannot be considered as solid evidence.

However, a large ring, forged out of thin bronze sheet, with a concave shape and a pointed lip, was found in the Birka Garrison (I had seen before but had completely forgotten about it!), and it clearly strongly resembles simple archery thumb-rings (and it was near other Magyar gear)... The shape of the object, reminiscent of some rare Byzantine or Steppic specimens dating to neighbouring centuries, and its find context strongly suggest it was indeed an archery thumb-ring used with a Magyar bow. So, Magyar archers might have used a thumb draw, but whether it was the favoured method and we lack evidence, or it was a method among others hence the scarcity of finds is an open question.

The bronze ring from the Birka garrison.

A first attempt at a replica. I then made a second, better one, with a more concave shape.

Another aspect of the technique, in addition to the grip, is the draw. Magyar quivers were long, suggesting long arrows and a long draw, which would rule out drawing to the chest or the belly (as often proposed based on dubious perspective in medieval art, but also based on some finds of very short arrows) - typically Asiatic bows are drawn to the face or beyond, but might be drawn across the chest as well. And if a thumb draw is assumed, it typically would go with having the arrow on the outside of the bow. All of that of course translates directly for the case of Magyar archers present in the North (or Magyar gear used in the Magyar way by the Norse).

How would this have looked like? Well, you can see in the pictures below my second reconstruction of the Birka ring, put to use by my friend Þórgeir. He practices Asiatic archery with (usually Chinese) thumb-rings, and reenacts an ex-Varangian, who brought back stuff from his time in Miklagarðr, including a Byzantine composite bow.

One can note that the thumb technique used with this king of ring is of the "shallow hook" category (you can look up the difference between deep hook and shallow hook thumb grips online, for example here here).

 

Further implications on technique

Let's finish with a look at other influences that Asiatic archery might have had among the Norse, beyond the import of Magyar and Byzantine gear. The first point is the likelihood of a wider spread of the thumb grip (so, thumb-ring and draw with the arrow on the outside of the bow). In the absence of finds of thumb-rings, this is less and less likely the further away we go from trading centres and other points of contact with the East. Most archers probably used locally produced bows, and there is virtually no evidence for the use of the thumb grip with longbows in Europe, even when contact with the Arabic and Ottoman world was extensive. So, probably not a high fraction of thumb-grip users among Norse archers, and almost all these users (if they existed) would be concentrated around the main trading centres, or had been in the East themselves, as Varangians, traders, or vikings.

Another aspect is the "tactical" uses of archery. Two elements commonly associated with Asiatic archery are horse-riding (to the point where Asiatic bows are commonly referred to as "horse bows"), and speed-shooting (or burst-shooting). Horse archery is indeed a keystone of many Steppic cultures (though composite bows, especially the most powerful ones, were also used by infantry). And speed-shooting is a well-attested aspect of horse-archery, the speed of the horse making it a useful skill to deliver multiple arrows in quick succession when passing a target.
   The King's Mirror (Konungs Skuggsjá) mentions composite bows (and crossbows) as good weapons for horsemen, but it's a 13th century text, dating to when the kingdom of Norway was integrated into the European feudal system, with a military revolving around mounted knights and involved in contacts with the Middle-East through crusades, so it's not representative of Viking-Age warfare at all. Some rare depictions of mounted archers occur in Viking-Age continental manuscripts (plus one mounted Norman archer in the Bayeux Tapestry), and they are likely to have been using composite bows, however there is nothing suggesting that this practice of mounted archery had been adopted in any way (via mercenaries or local use) by the Norse, who in general did not seem to favour mounted combat of any kind based on the evidence we have.

Horse archers in the Stuttgart Psalter (early 9th century, carolingian) and on the Bayeux Tapestry (late 11th century, Anglo-Norman).
Horse archers are a small minority of the depicted archers. The depiction of these bows are not very accurate (Bayeux) or quite stylised (Stuttgart), so that the bows used on horseback don't differ significantly from all other representations. However, one of the Stuttgart archers has a bow which is visibly more recurve that the others, which might indicate a composite bow.
Note in all cases the use of a Mediterranean two-finger draw, at least according to the artwork.

Finally, regarding speed shooting, one must note that, unlike for example Turkish quivers or modern competitive horse-archery quivers which hold large volumes of easily-accessible arrows, Magyar (and other Steppic) quivers store a rather limited number of arrows, and they store these arrows pointing up, with the nock and fletching at the bottom of the quiver. One can thus choose carefully which arrowhead to use for which shot, and one can maybe prepare two or three extra arrows in the bow hand for a faster series of shots, but extracting and preparing each arrow from the quiver is a long process, so no matter what anyone (cough Lars cough Ander-cough cough-sen) might tell you based on other styles of horse-archery, speed-shooting was not a particular element which would have made Magyar archery appealing to Scandinavians.

 

I hope you will have found this discussion interesting, and that it might inspire some well-informed practice of archery in a viariety of styles in viking reenactement. Please don't use it the other way around, using the existing complexity to justify cherry-picking or mix-and-matching, trying to pass whatever bow shape and archery style you like best as "likely historically accurate for a viking archer given the diversity of their cultural influences" because it's not how it works! ;)

Yours,
   Eiríkr

 

Wait! But what about Hjǫrtr? I hear you cry.

Right. We're left with the tantalising case of the "Hjǫrtr ring" found in Iceland. First noted and posted online by Hurstwic, this ring and the associated story have been going around the internet for years. Time to give it a proper evaluation.

This large bone ring, too big to be a finger-ring and adorned with stags (hjǫrtr in Old Norse), was found in a burial mound near the site of the battle where Hjǫrtr, youngest brother of Gunnar Hámundarson, was killed, according to the Saga of Burnt Njál. It is very tempting to think that Hjǫrtr, being the brother of an outstanding archer, came across and adopted the exotic technique of thumb shooting, which he paired with a high-end composite bow, and a locally made thumb-ring.
   In general Iceland is very far from the eastern routes, so opportunities to meet and adopt eastern archery would have been unlikely - but that doesn't mean impossible. And contrary to popular belief, composite bows and their specialised glues are not restricted to warm and dry climates - with proper care they can also be kept in colder and rainy places. But how plausible is this story?

When we delve deeper in the question of contacts with the East, little is known of Hjǫrtr himself, but the saga tells us that his brother Gunnar travelled out of Iceland. However, according to the saga, he didn't go further than the Göta Älv river in Götaland (present-day western Sweden), and his easternmost contact was a man met there who had spent many year on the island of Ösel (Saaremaaa, present-day Estonia). So no signs of contacts with Varangians, Magyar mercenaries, or other travellers of the eastern ways...
   But the main issue lies with the ring itself. As seen with the Birka ring, rings found in a Norse context would be expected to be reminiscent of Byzantine or Steppic examples (which makes sense given the trade networks) - so, quite narrow rings with a small triangular lip curved along the thumb. On the other hand, the tall bone cylinder of the Hjortr ring has its closest parallel in archery thumb-rings from Manchuria (China).
   However these quite unique Manchu rings 1) are virtually never found outside of China and 2) have a rounded lower edge to ensure a good release of the bowstring. So the Hjortr ring is 1) extremely unlikely to be an imitation of foreign archery rings, given that the Manchu originals were very distant and not widely adopted, and 2) not properly shaped to function as an archery thumb-ring, as is rough lower edge wouldn't allow a clean shot and would probably damage the string. And possibly too thin to be strong enough to withstand the pressure from a powerful bow.

An ivory Manchu ring from the Met Museum, its basic shape reminiscent of the Icelandic find.
Note however the thick rounded edges - lower outer and inner upper - which allow
better string contact and thumb confort when using the ring.

Its interpretation as an archery thumb-ring is therefore very dubious. If it nonetheless did belong to Hjǫrtr Hámundarson, and was an archery-related object, another creative interpretation is that might a wax-holder, containing a stick of bowstring wax which could be slid out and in at the push of a finger whenever the bowstring needed maintenance (interpretation by Michael Allender).

But let's be honest, even the likelihood of this object being somehow connected to Hjǫrtr is very low. Without even considering the question of the accuracy of the saga regarding the location of his death, the story says his body was taken home to be buried (so, not buried where he fell), and, from a statistical point of view, that grave might have been anyone, more likely a local than a travelling warrior.
   Plus, the decoration of the ring is not just one stag, it's a mythological scene showing the stags who eat the leaves of Yggdrasill - making the decoration less personal and more symbolic, thus more universal - decreasing the chances that it indeed belonged to someone named Hjǫrtr (the argument had mostly been used the other way round, because deers are not native to Iceland, this stag had to have a important meaning).
   Plus, the decoration style, while quite crude, can probably be described as Ringerike style, thus dating to later than 1000 AD - while Hjortr probably died in the 970s or 980s based the dating of the saga, so anything owned by Hjǫrtr at the time of his death would have been decorated in Mammen, or even older Borre style.
   And finally, the elephant in the room, the famed archer among the sons of Hámundr was not Hjǫrtr, but the hero Gunnar himself. It is Gunnar who wielded a bow with fearsome efficiency at the battle of the Ranga river where Hjǫrtr died, as well as in other battles in the saga, while there is actually not a single mention in the entire Saga of Burnt Njál about Hjǫrtr owning a bow or having any kind reputation as an archer.

So with that, it's probably safe to say that we can put the case of the "Hjǫrtr ring" to rest.