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National Geographic

The Viking age is welcoming a new kind of hero: women

This line of scientific research soon got more complicated, however. In 2017, Hedenstierna-Jonson and nine of her colleagues published their DNA study on the Birka woman in the American Journal of Physical Anthropology. To their surprise, the eight-page report, which was peppered with phrases like 'epiphyseal union' and 'nucleotide positions,' set off a firestorm. While some Viking specialists were impressed by the research, others took strong issue with it. Some critics suggested, for example, that the Birka grave may have originally contained both a male warrior and a female companion and that the skeleton of the male was removed at some point. But there was no evidence at all to show that a second body was ever interred in the grave. Other researchers raised a more theoretical objection. The dead, they noted, did not bury themselves. Mourners, they suggested, could well have placed a trove of costly weapons belonging to the dead woman's father or husband in the grave as symbols of the woman's high status. But other evidence clearly indicated that the weapons were hers. Some old Scandinavian poems, for example, explicitly described the practice of mourners burying dead warriors with their weapons. Besides, no one had suggested that all the weapons in the Birka grave were merely family heirlooms when the skeleton was thought to be male, so why bring up that idea now? In Norse mythology, war was not just a male domain. Female figures, like the fearsome Valkyries, were also linked to combat. Viking artifacts depicting them are few, which makes this gilded figurine, found in Denmark and dating to around A.D. 800, extraordinary—not only for its rarity but also for how it shows that women with weapons were accepted. JOHN LEE, NATIONAL MUSEUM OF DENMARK Stunned by the reaction, Hedenstierna-Jonson and several other researchers decided to expand their investigation of the famous grave. Some team members pored over historical records for even brief mentions of Viking warrior women. Perhaps the most intriguing reference came from the 12th-century text Cogadh Gaedhel re Gallaibh—The War of the Irish With the Foreigners. In it, an Irish writer recorded the names of 16 Viking commanders who led attacks on the region of Munster in the mid-900s. Among these military leaders was a Viking woman, Inghen Ruiadh', whose name means 'Red Girl' or 'Red Daughter.' (The name may have come from the color of her hair.) She was clearly an important figure. 'She's a Viking, she's a captain of a ship, and she's the commander of a fleet,' Uppsala University archaeologist Neil Price, a member of the team, told me. ('100-year find': Enormous Viking ship holds surprising clues on burial rituals.) Hedenstierna-Jonson and her colleagues took a closer look at the goods in the famous Birka burial. What was particularly striking was the equestrian character of the grave. Although the Vikings are best known for their seafaring abilities, prosperous families in the North bred horses for riding and for work on their farms. The Birka woman likely came from just such a privileged background, and several clues pointed to her equestrian abilities. The hinged position of her skeleton suggested that she had been buried in a seated position—possibly on a saddle, whose wood and padding had rotted away, leaving only the iron stirrups found by her feet. Moreover, one of the horse skeletons on the ledge was bridled, as if ready to be ridden. In addition, the grave contained other equestrian gear, including what was likely a large currycomb. The battle gear arranged around the warrior's skeleton also told a story. The arrows, for example, were specially designed to pierce an enemy's armor—these were not for show. The other weaponry in the grave—shields, spears, double-edged sword, broadax, and battle-knife—suggested that the warrior woman was also highly trained in several forms of attack, including hand-to-hand combat. Other clues, including part of a silver coin minted by the Abbasid Caliphate, a sprawling Muslim empire whose capital lay in what is now Baghdad, linked the woman to the lucrative Viking trade in the East. And an analysis of the clothing fragments discovered in the grave revealed a distinctively Eastern style of dress. She was buried in a spectacular Eurasian-steppe style of riding coat, trimmed with silk and possibly ornamented with small pieces of mirror glass to catch the light. She also wore a costly silk cap decorated with a silver tassel and four small silver balls. Both the style and the materials inferred that it was likely manufactured in the Viking settlement of Kyiv, which was perched along a major river route leading to Constantinople. At historical reenactment festivals like Sletten and Viking Days, held annually in Denmark, Scandinavian women embody the variety of roles their female ancestors played. Here, Christina D. Fotos wields a spear and Tinna Riis Nielsen makes glass beads over a flame. Taken together, the clothing pointed to a very important person with strong connections to the East. Indeed, comparative research by Scandinavian archaeologist and textile specialist Inga Hägg suggested that individuals buried in such distinctive hats were likely cavalry commanders who reported directly to a king or prince—a theory the researcher proposed before the occupant of the famous grave was identified as a woman. ('Denmark's salvation'? Runestones hint at Viking queen's power.)