In Debt to the Beastly Westfrisians

Hans Faber
Dec 13, 2017
31 min read

Updated: Jul 23

This blog post is about the town of Medemblik—the grande dame of the Westfriesland region in the province of Noord Holland in the Netherlands. A place steeped in legend, said by some to have been the seat of the heathen King Radbod. But more than myths, Medemblik stands at the heart of a harsh and stubborn history: that of the ‘beastly’ Westfrisians. For centuries, the bestiales Fresones—the beastly Frisians—were forced to defend themselves against both the unforgiving elements of nature and the worldly powers that sought to subdue them. They resorted to irregular warfare and guerrilla tactics, making maximum use of their inhospitable, impenetrable marshy landscape as both shield and weapon.

Note that the terminology can be tricky in this blog post, but using it correctly is essential—confusing names in front of a beastly West Frisian, which is a pleonasm, might just be deadly dangerous.

The name West Frisia is reserved for the area of medieval Frisia that used to be more or less the combined present-day provinces of Noord Holland, Zuid Holland and Zeeland, including much of the western coast of Flanders, and the lower reaches of the rivers Rhine, Meuse, and Stichtse Vecht. The latter being the pagus 'territory' Nifterlake. You could also say western Frisia.
The name Westfriesland is reserved for the sub-region within the province of Noord Holland. Westfrisians, or in the Dutch language Westfriezen, are the inhabitants of the region of Westfriesland. They play the main role in our story and are the topic of this blog post. During the era of the Dutch Republic, the government of the coastal area that is now the provinces of Zuid Holland and Noord Holland was officially named: De Staten van Hollant ende Westvrieslandt, 'The States of Holland and Westfriesland.'
The name Westerlauwers Friesland, sometimes also named West-Friesland, is the current province of Friesland. This is the area west of the River Lauwers. Westerlauwers Friesland, when referred to in the Middle Ages, is also named Central Frisia or Mid Frisia, since it is located east of West Frisia and west of East Frisia. The latter is today's region of Ostfriesland in the northwest of Germany.

Check also our page Introducing the Trail to understand the names of the different Frisian lands.

Still up for it? Because we are about to reveal the brutal story of the grande dame—the town of Medemblik—and the wider region of Westfriesland. But before we dive into the truth, let’s begin with fiction.

1. Fiction

In 2017, it marked exactly 500 years since Cornelius Gerardi Aurelius wrote his Cronycke van Hollant, Zeelant ende van Vrieslandt—'the Chronicle of Holland, Zeeland, and Friesland,' also known as the Divisiekroniek. These three provinces, along with other territories further northeast along the Wadden Sea, were once collectively known as Frisia. The Divisiekroniek famously propagated the myth that the people of Holland descended from the so-called freedom-loving Batavians—a tribe that lived along the Lower River Rhine during the Roman occupation of what is now the southern Netherlands.

Although Aurelius authored the Divisiekroniek, it was the monks of the scriptorium at the Abbey of Egmond—the most influential abbey in the County of Holland—who forged the connection between the Batavi tribe and the Dutch people, giving rise to the enduring Batavian myth. If interested in the role of the Abbey of Egmond in the emergence of the county Holland, explore our blog post The Abbey of Egmond and the Rise of the Gerulfing Dynasty.

Amazingly, the Divisiekroniek and its myths were taught with a straight face as historical truth in Dutch elementary and high schools for the next four hundred years. Yes, four centuries—let that sink in. We would not be surprised if some people in the Netherlands still believe the Batavians are somehow central to their origins. Apart from those from the region once called Batavia—known today in Dutch as the Betuwe, in the Central Netherlands—they really are not. Period. And if the reader is now thinking: “Oh, well, I honestly thought that,” there is no need to tell anyone.

If the reader is interested in the Batavian Revolt of 69–70 AD—a joint uprising involving the Canninefates, along with a naval fleet from the Frisians and Chauci—check out our blog post Our civilization—it all began with piracy.

This chap Aurelius also helped create the myth that the town of Medemblik was the seat of the much-feared Frisian king Radbod, better known as Redbad. But this legendary figure goes by many names in different sources and tales. We have collected a few: Rabbodus, Rabel, Rabeu, Radbodus, Radbaud, Radbaut, Radboud, Rachordus, Rambault, Rapoto, Rathbodus, Rathbold, Rebbolt, Redbald, Redbodus, Reinbaldr, Rembauz, Richoldus, Ridewold, Ritsaert, Ritzert, Robolius, Robuet, and many more.

Inspired by Aurelius’ chronicle, Martinus Hamconius wrote Frisia seu de viris rebusque in 1609. It recounts—or rather fabricates—the story of the first duke of West Frisia, Diederik Haronis, also known as Dirk. According to the tale, Duke Diederik was a grandson of King Radbod and founded the town of Medemblik around the year 300. In 330, he supposedly declared himself king of Frisia. Like the Batavi origin myth, it is utter nonsense, of course.

Another myth surrounds the medieval castle in Medemblik, known as Kasteel Radboud. Legend has it that King Radbod built his fortress there in the seventh century—exactly where, six centuries later, Count Floris V of Holland would erect one of his infamous Zwingburgen, or dwangburgen ('coercion castles'), in a final effort to subdue the rebellious Westfrisians.

In his fierce resistance to Christianity, the heathen King Radbod was said to have thrown his prisoners of war into a pit within the castle walls. Yet his daughter showed mercy, secretly aiding the suffering Christian captives. When Radbod discovered her compassion, he imprisoned her in one of his dungeons and cruelly forced her to wear a crown of thorns. After Charlemagne’s victory over the Frisians, King Radbod fled to Denmark, and his daughter was freed—so the cruel legend ends.

In reality, King Radbod died at the height of his power in 719 after a prolonged illness. Today, only a portion of the once-impressive medieval castle remains in Medemblik, dating back to 1288.

Another legend linked to Radbod concerns the origin of the Gravinnenweg ('Countesses’ Way') in the province of Friesland. This submerged stone road lies at the bottom of Lake Sneekermeer. According to tradition, the Gravinnenweg was built by a countess to ease the movement of her army. Others argue the name originally was Gegravenweg, which translates to 'dug way,' allegedly commissioned by King Radbod himself. When strong winds lower the water level, skippers can still feel the remnants of this ancient stone path beneath their ships’ hulls. Geologically, the 'stone way' is actually part of a long, straight moraine on the lakebed, formed during the last glacial period.

One legend we must mention is that of Saint Cunera, the princess of Orkney who was saved by King Radbod from being killed by the Huns during a battle at Cologne in the year 337. In the tale, Radbod—also known as the King of the Rhine—hid her under his cloak and brought her safely to his palace. Tragically, the pious Cunera was eventually killed by Radbod’s jealous wife, the queen. The events are said to have taken place in the town of Rhenen and on Grebbeberg Hill in the province of Utrecht. For the full story, read our blog post Don't believe everything they say about sweet Cunera, and do show some understanding for the queen.

If we take a detour to consider where King Radbod might actually have resided, one of the most compelling speculations comes from historian Dijkstra (2011). Right from the start, he clearly labels his theory as speculation—no risk of scientific misunderstanding there.

According to Dijkstra’s theory, it is quite plausible that a powerful family was established around the present-day town of Rijnsburg in the province of Zuid Holland. In the eighth century, this settlement was known as Hrothaluashem or Rodulfsheim, which translates to 'homestead of Rodulf.' Rodulf himself is recorded as a notable figure who made significant gifts to the church of Utrecht during that time—a so-called big man indeed.

Shortly after the Viking rule of Rorik, also known as Roric of Dorestad, and Godfrid the Sea-King ended in West Frisia, Count Gerulf the Elder of West Frisia also held possessions in the Rijnsburg area during the ninth century. Gerulf’s grandson was—drum roll—Radbod. Moreover, there were strong ties between the House of Gerulfings and the bishopric of Utrecht, where a ninth- or tenth-century bishop was also named—drum roll—Radbod.

What is at least clear is that the mouth of the River Old Rhine has long been a site of great strategic importance—and consequently a stronghold for ruling elites. We refer also to our blog posts Foreign fighters returning from Viking warbands and Tolkien pleaded in favour of King Finn. An immortalized royal tragedy in which more is said about Rodulf and Rijnsburg.

Old Frisian law codices, particularly the thirteenth-century Codex Unia, go even further by portraying Redbad as the heathen king of the North—thi koning fan Danemercum, meaning 'the king of Denmark.' The saga tells of King Radbod of Denmark meeting Charlemagne in what is now the town of Franeker, in the modern province of Friesland.

One especially intriguing part of this Radbod-Charlemagne saga involves the twelve asegas. An asega was a legal expert who guided judicial proceedings during the medieval gatherings of the thing. The word asega itself breaks down as a meaning 'law' and sega meaning 'to say.' The saga gains even more interest when we consider a preserved seal from Medemblik, dated 1294, which depicts a ship carrying thirteen passengers. And just like that, we find ourselves back at the grande dame, Medemblik.

Anyway, back to the saga.

Charlemagne summoned the twelve asegas from the Seven Sealands to appear before his court and select the new laws of Frisia. The Seven Sealands—Sawen Selandum in the Old Frisian language—were small free republics that formed a loose federation stretching from the region of Westfriesland to that of Ostfriesland, at the mouth of the River Weser. This federation may have also included the Frisians from the regions of Butjadingen and Land Wursten, located on the western and eastern banks of the Weser, respectively.

The twelve asegas refused to appear before Charlemagne five times. Finally, on the sixth summons, they confessed they were unable to choose new laws. Charlemagne then presented them with three grim options: (1) be beheaded, (2) become unfree, or (3) be set adrift on a rickety ship sunder allerhanda rower anda rema anda towe, meaning 'without rudder, oar, or rope.' They chose the third option—the fragile ship. And apparently, they were able to make choices, and a smart choice too, but still one that was hazard-free.

At sea, as the twelve asegas prayed in desperation, a mysterious thirteenth figure suddenly appeared. This stranger carried a golden axe and used it to steer the rickety ship safely back to shore—at a place called Eswei. There, he struck the ground with his axe, and immediately a spring with fresh water burst forth, much like Moses striking the rock with his staff in the Sinai Desert. From that moment on, the place was known as Axenshove. Most importantly, as we will see, all the wisdom and teachings this thirteenth figure imparted to the twelve asegas were accepted as law. Once his task was complete, he vanished without a trace.

Below, for the enthusiasts, the text of the saga in the original Old Frisian language.

The Saga of the Twelve Asegas — This andera deis het hi, that se fore that riucht come. Tha comen se and keren foresprecan, tolif fan tha sawen selandum. Tha het hi, that se riucht kere. Tha jaraden se ferstis. Dis tredda deis het hi se koma. Tha tegen hia nedscin, ther thi fria Fresa mit riuchte mei hava. Dis sexta deis het hi, dat se riucht kere. Da spreken se, hye ne kude. Tha sprack thi konigh: “Nu lidze jc hit jo tofara thre karan, hoder jo liawera se, that ma jo alle haudie, than j alle ain wirde, thanna jo en scip jowe, also sterck, ther anne ebba ende een floed mey witstan, and that sunder allerhanda rower and rema and towe”. Tha keren hya dat schip ende folen wt mitta ebba also fyr, dat se neen aland ne muchten sian. Tha was him leithe to mode. Tha sprack thi ena, ther fan Widekinesslachte was, thi forma asega: “Jc habbe herd, that ws Hera God, da hi an erdrike was, tolif jungeran hade, and hi selva threttundista ware, and hi to himmen come al bislotena dorum, and traste se and lerde se. Hu ne bidda wi naut, that hi ws anne threttundista sende, the runs riocht lere and ti lande wise”. Tha folen hia alle an hara kne and beden inlike. Da se da bedinge heden deen, tha segen hia anne threttundista an there stiorne sitta, and ene goldene axe up siner axla, ther hi mede to lande wether stiurde wit stram and wit wind. Tha se to lande comen, tha warp hi mitt her axe up that land, and warp ene ture up. Da ontsprongh deer een burna. Aldervmbe hat that ti Axenshove, and et Eswei quamen hia an land, and seten vmbe tha burna, and hot so him thi threttundista lerde, that nomen hia riuchte. Tach ne wistet nemma under tha fluke, hot thi threttundista ware, ther to him komen was, also lic was hi aller ekum. Tha him that riucht wisid hade, tha neren ner tolif. Aldervmbe scen in tha lande threttene asegan wasa, and hara doman agen hia to delane et Axenshove and et Eswei. And hwerso hia an tua spracat, so achten tha sawen the sex in ti haliane. Aldus ist landriucht alra Fresena.

Of course, the thirteenth asega was Christ himself. Because Jesus chose and taught the laws, the laws of Frisia were considered divine in origin—much like how Moses received laws from God for his people. This time only in a desert of water and not of sand. In other words, this entire story draws heavily from the Gospel of Luke.

The divine nature of these laws is closely tied to the sacred character of the thing—also called ding, þing, or ting—the Germanic assemblies where, among other matters, the so-called 'better laws' were decided. To learn more about these thing assemblies and discover how the Frisians made a significant contribution to the European history of the thing, explore our blog post Well, the Thing is....

The locations Eswei and Axenshove of the saga never have been identified, though. Eswei might translate as 'way/path of the gods', And, why Medemblik used to have a city seal depicting this story, we do not know either.

Nevertheless, it is intriguing that these stories fit the origin myth of the Frisians, namely that a stranger king, who came with a ship from overseas, established new laws and founded a new people. Similar origin myths exist about the Anglo-Saxon kingdom of Wessex. But also about King Ælla of the South-Saxons, landing in England in the year 477, according to the late ninth-century Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. Even the oldest Anglo-Saxon kingdom of all, that of Kent, was founded by stranger form oversea, this time the Frisian warrior exiles Hengest and Horsa made their landfall on English soil. All these origin myths might be traced back to the events during the Migration Period (IJssennagger 2017). Read more about these ancient social memories in our blog post We'll drive our ships to new land.

Legends about Radbod outside Westfriesland

Legends about King Radbod also have survived in north-western Germany where he often is nicknamed Wilde Jäger 'wild hunter', associating him with the god Woden.

One legend tells that during storms and thunder, King Radbod gallops along the coast near the village of Norden in the region of Ostfriesland, riding his black horse through wind and rain. Another tale says that in the town of Leer, also in Ostfriesland, Radbod's treasure is guarded by mysterious eerdmantjes—goblin-like creatures said to dwell beneath the earth.

Still in Ostfriesland, the village of Berumerfehn claims that King Radbod was buried in the nearby Radbodsholz, meaning 'Radbod’s Woods'. In the town of Dunum, a burial mound is known as Rabbelsberg or Radbodsberg—'Radbod’s Hill'. Locals say his ghost still haunts the nearby swamplands.

Further south, near the town of Hasseberg in Germany, yet another legend places Radbod’s grave. And a completely different story names the rocky, Frisian island of Heligoland—far out in the North Sea—as his final resting place. According to this version, Radbod had a stronghold on this mystical red island in the German Bight.

Interestingly, the legend of Radbod did not remain confined to the territories of former Frisia. Even in the far south of France, not far from Lourdes, Saint Fris of Bassoues is still venerated as a martyr to this very day. According to tradition, Saint Fris was supposedly a son of King Radbod.

This story may trace back to the Vita Vulframni—the life of Saint Wulfram of Fontenelle, who lived in the second half of the seventh century. Wulfram worked alongside Bishop Willibrord in the mission to convert the Frisians. According to the account, King Radbod did not oppose their efforts. In fact, even his son was baptized. And—so the story goes—no sooner had the boy been lifted from the baptismal font than he was freed from the flesh. Better believe it! Read our blog post Like Father, Unlike Son —un saint frison en France about this early-medieval Franco-Frisian soldier-saint.

We will stop here with the more or less random collection of myths surrounding Radbod—many of which are curiously tied to the old town of Medemblik—while fully aware that countless more legends about him likely exist. Even today, new stories continue to emerge, such as the novel Radbods Schwert, published in 2017. Somehow, this king has remained worth remembering across generations.

Perhaps he was not quite as terrible as often claimed. Despite the Frankish portrayal of Radbod as a violent pagan, it is entirely possible he was, in reality, a powerful aristocrat with close ties to the Frankish court. A compelling clue is the marriage of his daughter Thudsinda to Grimoald, heir to the office of majordomo of the Frankish kingdom (Van der Tuuk 2018).

And perhaps—now we must speak in a hushed tone, so as not to rouse the diehard Frisians—Radbod was not even a heathen. Quieter still: perhaps he was not even a king. And only behind locked doors, with no one listening, might we dare to suggest that Radbod was mostly a vassal of the Franks.

2. Truth

Name and address

The settlement of Medemblik has had many names. It evolved from Medemolaca into Medemblik. In between, it was named Medemelacha, Medenblec, Medemblick, Memelick, Medenblicq, Medenblick, Medenbliek, and Medemleck.

In the Old Dutch language, medem means ‘gift’ or ‘gem’, and derives from the Germanic word maiþmaz (Van Renswoude 2021). A lovely meaning—one that would have made a poetic explanation for the name Medemblik. However, its origin is far more down-to-earth. The earliest recorded form, Medemolaca, circa 900, stems from miduma and laku. Miduma means ‘middle’, while laku refers to a ‘stream draining peaty ground’. Think of the English verb to leak, the Dutch lekken, or even the River Lek, a branch of the River Rhine. Medemblik’s name likely refers to the central stream among three such waterways. Notably, the earliest forms—Medemolaca and Medemelacha—are older than most place names in the Westfriesland region, suggesting a continuity of habitation that stretches back to the Roman period.

The creek ridges (yellow) with the northern branch being the Abbekerk Creek

Medemblik is situated on the former creek ridge of the Abbekerk Creek, a substantial watercourse that once flowed inland from the North Sea through the coastal dunes into what is now the region of Westfriesland. This creek ridge runs from the village of Aartswoud, through Abbekerk, Twisk, and Opperdoes, ending at Medemblik. Unlike the surrounding landscape, the sediments deposited by the creek were relatively sandy. Over time, the widening of the River Vlie—northeast of Medemblik—allowed the waters of Lake Almere (the present-day Lake IJsselmeer) to drain more easily into the sea. This increased outflow led to the gradual drainage of the surrounding peatlands during and after the Roman period. As a result, the soft, peaty soils subsided and compacted, while the older, sandier creek deposits remained stable. The outcome: the former creek bed rose as a subtle ridge above the surrounding sunken terrain. To put it more elegantly—this is a textbook example of relief inversion.

The broader region, including the land stretching north from the town of Medemblik toward the town of Stavoren, was historically known as Westflinge—a name meaning ‘west of the Vlie’. At that time, the River Vlie was still a modest, navigable river. In the centuries following the Roman period, much of Westflinge gradually vanished beneath the advancing sea. This means that the historical extent of Westflinge was larger than that of the present-day region of Westfriesland. It was likely a vast peat landscape, interwoven with small streams, marshes, and scattered islands. The inhabitants of this area were referred to in the Middle Ages as the Westlingi.

It was in the second half of the seventh century that the settlement which would become Medemblik was founded, on the ridge of the former Abbekerk Creek. This was the era when local markets and trading sites—known as a wic (also spelled wijk, vik, or wich), derived from the Latin word vicus—began to emerge across the coastal regions. These early emporia played a crucial role in the development of towns.

The wic at Medemblik was strategically positioned, with direct connections to Lake Almere and the River Vlie via the Medemolaca Creek, which at the time measured about thirty meters in width. The settlement gradually developed into what is known in the German language as a Langwurt: an elongated, oblong-shaped terp. A terp—also called Warf, Wurt, or Warden in the German language—is an artificial settlement mound constructed to protect against flooding. See our blog post Between Leffinge and Misthusum—understanding the basics of terps to find more information about these earthworks.

These elongated terps, or Langwurte, were typically located near estuaries or bays, where rivers and creeks provided vital access to inland regions. A well-known example is the former Langwurt of Emden. Other examples include the village of Langwarden on the peninsula of Butjadingen in Landkreis Wesermarsch, as well as the villages of Holwerd and Berlikum in the province of Friesland (Van Ginkel-Meester et al 2000).

The early settlement of Medemblik stretched roughly 400 meters in length and featured shipyards, quays, and landing scaffolds. Houses were built at a right angle to the waterfront, set back approximately ten meters from the banks. This layout—a combination of elongated mound (Langwurt) and linear street plan—is considered by some scholars to be characteristic of early-medieval Frisian trading towns. For more on this distinctive urban pattern, see our blog post To the End Where It All Began: Ribbon Ribe in Jutland.

The ancient roots of Medemblik are also reflected in the church’s original patron saint: Saint Martin. When the Franks began subduing the Frisians in the early eighth century, Saint Martin served as their patron saint—making his presence here no coincidence. The earliest visible remains of the church are a tuff-stone foundation dating to the twelfth century. At that time, the church measured an impressive 45 by 20 meters. It was built atop a wooden predecessor, evidence of even older religious activity at the site. In the centuries that followed, the church in Medemblik grew into the principal church of West Frisia, serving not only as a religious center but also as the seat of ecclesiastical justice—a seendkerk in the Dutch language. Today, it is known as the Saint Boniface Church.

A Church Built with the Help of Woden — After the heathen King Radbod was defeated, the old gods had not yet given up. When the people of Medemblik began construction of the Saint Martin’s Church, they ran into trouble: the foundation of the tower kept being washed away. Even after moving the planned location, the same thing happened again and again—the tower either sank into the soil or was swallowed by water. Each time, a sharp scent of sulphur filled the air. Then one night, Woden appeared to the master builder in a vision. If he were to sacrifice twenty oxen, Woden promised, he would help him. After all twenty beasts were offered, Woden instructed the builder to take the hides and lay them beneath the foundation. The master builder followed Woden’s instructions—and this time, the tower stood firm.

The god Woden in particular played an important role in Frisia of the Early Middle Age, witness the many jewellery depicting this god and his tow ravens. Read our blog post Odin’s Ravens reigned the southern shores. Not the Hammer of Thor.

From the mid-eighth century onward, Frankish influence over West Frisia steadily increased. The period between roughly 800 and 1050 is best described as the Frisian-Frankish era. However, as the power of the counts of West Frisia—later known as the counts of Holland—began to rise, Frankish control over the broader West Frisian region diminished. This power shift created a window of opportunity for the people of the region of Westfriesland to operate independently and develop into a largely lordless region.

By the end of the tenth century, the counts of West Frisia began making serious efforts to assert control over the region of Westfriesland. It would take them several centuries to fully succeed—a long and often violent process we will return to later in this blog post.

International trade network

The population of the terp region along the Wadden Sea—the heartland of Frisia—had grown significantly by the early Middle Ages. During the sixth and seventh centuries, the (new) Frisians expanded their sphere of influence south of the Lower River Rhine, spreading along the North Sea coast as far as Sincfala—now the Zwin estuary in the modern region of Flanders.

The second half of the seventh century also marked the rise of early trading hubs, or emporia, along the main trade routes of north-western Europe. These included Quentovic near modern-day Pas-de-Calais in France, Hamwic (later Hamwih, now Southampton), Sliaswic—which would become the famous Haithabu or Hedeby near Schleswig in northern Germany—and, largest of all, Dorestad (also spelled Dorestat). Located at present-day Wijk bij Duurstede in the Netherlands, Dorestad stretched an impressive three kilometers along the banks of the River Old Rhine. To learn more about Dorestad’s central role in early medieval trade, read our blog post The Batwing Doors of Dorestad. A Two-Way Gateway of Trade and Power.

Around these emporia, regional trading towns developed, like Birka (near Stockholm), Dispargum (modern Duisburg), Gipeswic (modern Ipswich), Hoei in Belgium, Eburacum/Eoforwic/Jórvík (modern York), Lundenburth/Lundenwic (modern London), Ribe, Stavoren, villa Walichrum/Walicras/Walacria (modern Domburg), Witla, and, of course, grand dame Medemblik. Witla has never been definitively located, but it was likely situated in the estuary of the River Meuse, probably near the present-day town of Voorne. These sites—including Witla—were all important centers of activity where silver coins were commonly used and often produced. However, actual evidence of coin minting in Medemblik itself has yet to be found.

And by the way, take note of all the wics and vics in these place names — a subtle reminder of their shared origin as early trading settlements.

Early-medieval international trade involved a wide range of goods, including hides and parchment, bone, wool, and cloth—the famous pallium Fresonicum (read our blog post Haute couture from the salt marshes about this costly commodity). Other traded items were dairy products like cheese and butter, eggs, flax, linen, wood, jewellery, pottery (notably the fine and luxurious Tating type), glassware (including funnel beakers), arms, spices, gold brocade, Chinese silk, exotic shells, raisins, walnuts, beads, wine from the Upper Rhine region, quern stones from Mayen, whetstones, mortars, furs, walrus ivory, construction timber, salted and dried fish, amber, combs, ore—and, of course, slaves.

The first Frisian merchant recorded in written history traded slaves; he conducted business in London in the year 673. For now, we will set aside the history of the flourishing Frisian slave trade. Read our blog post Merciless Medieval Merchants and Slavers for a more on the slave trade.

The quality of Frisian linen, produced by a people once described as 'the enemy on the other side of the River Rhine,' was already renowned by the Romans as early as the first century. The Roman author Pliny the Elder noted that the women of these foes wore the most beautiful linen garments. Many of these goods were clearly luxury items, playing a key role in the gift economy that emerged after the Migration Period—the era of ring-givers, which also inspired the Lord of the Rings trilogy.

For more on this fascinating connection, see our blog post Tolkien Pleaded in Favour of King Finn: An Immortalized Royal Tragedy. Finn was another Frisian king, mentioned in sources such as the Old English epic poem Beowulf.

The key takeaway from the above is that the settlement of Medemblik was closely connected to this extensive supra-regional trade network, in which the Frisians played a crucial role as middlemen—arguably the most important ones. If you want to dive deeper into the significance and scale of Frisian free trade, be sure to check out our detailed analysis, read our blog post Porcupines Bore U.S. Bucks. The Birth of Economic Liberalism.

Salt production and destruction of land

One very important commodity not yet mentioned, was salt. But, before we go saline, the trading port of the town of Stavoren situated in the southwest of the province of Friesland needs some additional attention. The Frisian ports Stavoren and Medemblik were known as the twin sisters, located opposite each other on the (former) River Vlie. Therefore, together being the entry point for the Scandinavian trade en route between the Baltic Sea and the Frankish Empire. Stavoren was just like Medemblik a Langwurt and had a similar street plan with (store) houses set in right angles at the river bank. Still recognizable in the street plan today.

Also, both ports traded in salt. Salt that was extracted from the seemingly endless hinterlands of saline peat (besides from peat, salt was also extracted from samphire). The digging-up and burning of peat, had disastrous effects on the landscape. The many great lakes in the south-western part of the province of Friesland of today, now enjoyed so much during summer holidays, are, in fact, the scars of this unsustainable commercial activity. Not much later the Frisians in Landkreis Nordfriesland in the northern-most part of Germany, learned the hard way what irresponsible commercial use of land and resources can lead to, i.e., the disappearance of a complete towns and islands overnight. Making a fictional Atlantis historical. Read our blog post about the many Atlantisses of Frisia: How a town drowned overnight. The case of Rungholt.

The western coast of the Netherlands consisted of dunes with estuaries of the (former) rivers Old Rhine, Meuse and IJ. Behind these old dunes were merely impassable peat areas and countless small streams that only became habitable in the tenth century or so. Population was mainly limited along the rivers and in the estuaries, with early-medieval settlements at modern Valkenburg and Rijnsburg. It is estimated that in the late Roman Period along the North Sea coast of the modern province of Zuid Holland, no more than 300 people lived. In the Early Middle Ages this grew to an estimated 2,000 people. But this was still a modest-sized population when compared to the population living at the tidal marshlands in the north of Germany and the Netherlands, or compared to the central river-area Batavia, more inland. Those populations ran into the tens of thousands.

Basically, the North Sea coast in the west was a barren and deserted landscape in the Early Middle Ages. No surprise the more numerous Frisians of the northern terp region were able to expand their influence along the North Sea coast southward without too much of a hassle. Medemblik and the areas of what is now the islands of Texel and Wieringen, were exceptions. Here more people lived. People started to cultivate the land around Medemblik and on Wieringen in the course of the eighth century already, and they were well cultural connected to Mid Frisia, i.e., the present province of Friesland.

wider area Noord Holland with Medemblik on the top

Between 900 and 1200, the waterwolf got a firm grip on the land with great floods. 'Blanke Hans', as how the Nordfriesen in Germany call a rough North Sea, further widened the River Vlie. Thus separating the region of Westfriesland from Mid Frisia even further. The truly devastating All Saints' Flood of 2-3 November 1170 had far-reaching consequences. Not only it meant the end of regional trading ports like Walichrum near the present-day town of Domburg in the province of Zeeland, it also completely washed away the Creil Woods north of Medemblik, and transformed the pagi 'territories' of Wiron (present-day Wieringen) and Texla (present-day Texel) into islands. Contemporary Abbot Outhof wrote in that terrible year 1170:

Dit jaar is voor de Hollanders, Zeeuwen en Vriezen een jaar van ellende geweest. De Vriezen overquam de allerellendigste ramp, bij wien alle het Landt tusschen ‘t Texel, Medemblik en Stavoren van ‘t Water wierde ingeslokt. En wierde de Zuyderzeeboezem overmatiglyk vergroot. Texel en Wieringen, tot nog toe aan ‘t vaste land geslagen, rukte er de zee af.

This year has been a year of misery for the people of Holland, Zeeland, and Friesland. The Frisians were affected the worst and their land between Texel, Medemblik, and Stavoren were swallowed by the sea. And the Zuiderzee ['southern sea'] bosom was disproportionately enlarged. Texel and Wieringen, until then part of land, were torn away from it by the sea.

The former land of the Creil Woods have been reclaimed from the sea in the year 1930, and is now known as the Wieringermeerpolder. And with it, attaching the Wadden Sea island of Wieringen back to the mainland again, where it originally belonged. The Wadden Sea island of Texel remains an island. For now, that is. Read our blog post Refuge on a terp 2.0, waiting to be liberated to read more about the history of the Wieringermeerpolder.

So, in the twelfth century, the settlement of Medemblik, and the whole region of Westfriesland for that matter, became geographically isolated. To a large extent as a consequence of the destructive interaction between homo oeconomicus and his landscape. To the east, the River Vlie slowly and with shocks had changed into an inland sea—the Zuiderzee 'southern sea.' To the north, the Creil Woods were turned into sea as well. To the west, the small River Rekere had widened too, after the North Sea had found its way through the dunes near the town of Callantsoog, and separated the region of Westfriesland from the early-medieval pagus 'territory' Kinhem, now known as Kennemerland. Kennemerland is the area stretching along the North Sea dunes, where the counts of West Frisia (later Holland) firmly were in control.

The result was, that the people of Westfriesland were on their own from then on. After all this violence of nature, it was time too to give dyke-building and -reinforcing some serious consideration. But, more threats were at their doorsteps: the power-hungry house of the Gerulfings of West Frisia.

3. Dare

After the Vikings Rorik of Dorestad and Godfrid the Sea-King, who had ruled as Frankish dukes over West Frisia during the period 841 until 885 with their power base maybe even in the nearby settlement of Hallem, the modern village of Egmond-Binnen in the area of Kennemerland, the Frisian nobleman Gerulf the Elder immediately stepped in. It's speculated that Count Gerulf the Elder descended from King Radbod; see earlier this blog post. Whatever his pedigree, Gerulf and his offspring would be successful in achieving an autonomous earldom. They are the founding fathers of the powerful county of West Frisia, later to become the county of Holland, and thus lay the basis for the Netherlands. A county so powerful eventually it would expand its influence over the entire world in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Or should these credits go to the Vikings Rorik and Godfrid instead of the Gerulfings, since these 'civilized gents' from the North ruled this same area, West Frisia, as an entity first? Interesting thought: Holland founded by Danish warlords.

Whomever we should be awarded the Founding Father Medal of Holland, what is interesting that in first instance the Gerulfings named themselves counts of West Frisia. Only at the turn of eleventh to the twelfth century, they re-titled themselves as count of Holdland or Holtland, which later changed into Holland. With this act, separating themselves from greater Frisia more to the north and east, and creating a new identity. Re-branding is, therefore, not something invented in modern history. What would have happened if they had stuck to the name counts of Frisia?

The dynasty of the Gerulfings was able to acquire most of what used to be West Frisia. From the Wadden Sea islands of Wieringen and Texel in the north to the modern province of Zeeland in the south of the Netherlands. The count-less and lord-free region of Westfriesland, which had arisen around 800, as explained before, turned out to be the pièce de résistance. A civil war within West Frisia. According to the chronicles, an important battle between the Westfrisians and Count Dirk II took place at Rinasburg, the modern town of Rijnsburg, on 10 August 975. Count Dirk was so relieved he won that he founded a chapel dedicated to Saint Lawrence. Later, a church was built on the spot, followed by the foundation of an abbey in the twelfth century. Further hostilities happened in the year 993. This battle was won by the Westfrisians after killing the count of West Frisia, Arnulf of Ghent.

By the way, it was Count Arnulf who offered refuge to Archbishop Dunstan when he was banished from England by King Eadwig. Giving asylum, just as his predecessor King Aldgisl of Frisia had offered to the bishop of York, Wilfrid, in the seventh century. Read our blog post The biography of Aldgisl, unplugged, and learn more about this earliest refugee case in the Netherlands.

Back to the region of Westfriesland. In the year 1133, the situation ran out of control. An open civil war started when Count Dirk IV marched across the borders of the region of Westfriesland. No Article 5 of NATO to help out the Westfrisians. But in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, it was the Westfrisians who also started ransacking the wider region. They plundered villages and towns like Alkmaar, Beverwijk, and even as south as Haarlem. All settlements located on the higher sandy grounds of the region of Kennemerland. It was Alkmaar that was granted city privileges in 1254. Fortifying this town was probably part of the counts' strategy to conquer the region of Westfriesland. In general, from the second half of the twelfth century, the counts of Holland started to invest heavily in castles, churches and in houses of stone.

Nearly all eighty castles of the county of Holland in the High Middle Ages have disappeared today. The reason for this is simple. When, in modern history, the military function of these castles was lost, the stones were in high demand for other constructions, since stones and rocks are scarce in this region and thus very costly. Once, the landscape must have looked like green Scotland filled with sheep and castles, but without the mountains.

For long, the West Frisian people's militias were able to withstand the professional armies of the counts of West Frisia, c.q. Holland, although they must have been strongly outnumbered, and the armies of the counts were far more advanced. By making use of the marshy and inaccessible land, they could apply the tactics of guerrilla warfare, a strategy the (descendants of the) Dutch became proficient in during the centuries to come, such as in the Boer Wars in South Africa and the large-scale post-colonial wars in the Dutch East Indies. Moreover, salt marsh areas were inaccessible during most of the year for a heavy army—too wet. Therefore, the fighting had to be done in wintertime, when frost turned the soil solid and lakes into ice, whereas summertime was traditionally the season to battle. Compare also the famous battle of 1517 in the salt marsh area of Land Wursten; Joan of Arc, an inspiration for Land Wursten.

William II, count of Holland and Zeeland, and elected as Holy Roman Emperor, was even slain by the Westfrisians, after supposedly he fell through the ice during a winter campaign. It happened in January 1256 near the village of Hoogwoud. Sometimes this deed is depicted as a barbaric thing to do, or as a death-by-change without the Westfrisians knowing who he really was. Rubbish. Of course, the Westfrisians knew who he was. He was not solo-hiking through the area in moth-eaten lumberjack cloths. Let's face it, the man was not on a holiday trip in the region of Westfriesland. He was on a specific mission, and he and his great army could not have travelled unnoticed. He was the Holy Roman Emperor, for heaven's sake.

The irony of the murder of William II is, that he granted the Frisians freedom privileges eight years before. It was in the year 1248, when Count William was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in the Aachen Cathedral in Germany. During the coronation, Frisians were gathered in the cathedral too because they had been decisive in the siege of the city earlier. William II reconfirmed in an official charter the so-called freedom privileges that Charlemagne had given to the Frisians many centuries before, which meant the Frisians were not subordinate to any lord other than the emperor himself. Apparently, the counts of Holland were struck by sudden blindness and oblivion, because their efforts to subdue the rest of Frisia did not rest despite the charter. Or maybe William thought these Charlemagne privileges were only applicable for Mid Frisia and East Frisia, and not for the region of Westfriesland? Read also our blog posts Guerrilla in the Polder and The Battle of Vroonen in 1297 and Magnus' Choice. The origins of the Frisian Freedom for more backgrounds.

At the end, it was William's son, Count Floris V, who was successful fighting the ulteriores Fresones 'the far away Frisians'. To pacify the so-called 'beastly' Westfrisians, Floris erected the infamous coercion castles between 1282 and 1289, including the one in the town of Medemblik. The one that is partly still standing. The Westfrisians revolted one last time after Floris V was murdered in the year 1296. Sadly, a year later the Westfrisians were defeated again.

A definitive, final defeat this time. It was the very bloody Battle of Vroonen in the year 1297, that Count Jan, son of Count Floris V, was victorious. Archaeological research on the remains of bodies found near the town of Sint Pancras indicates that the Westfrisians were executed in large numbers, and those who had survived the battlefield were mutilated with swords on their legs. Men, women, and children. With this lost battle, the separation of the region of Westfriesland from greater Frisia was complete: geographical, political, and cultural. But what a slow amputation process it had been!

4. Epilogue

The Westfrisians, or Westflingi, received their nickname bestiales Fresones 'beastly Frisians' from the monks of the Abbey of Egmond after Count Arnulf of West Frisia had been killed in the year 993. This nickname was somewhat unfair because the counts of Frisia were no less savagely. And that is understatement. Although, it must be said, the unmanageable reputation of the Westfrisians was still illustrated in the year 1608, when they sabotaged the famous and daring project of Jan Adriaenszoon Leeghwater to reclaim Lake Beemster (nowadays a UNESCO-protected polder) by destroying its dykes. Even before their rebellious attitude showed, when the Westfrisian town of Enkhuizen joined on 21 May 1572, as the first town of the Netherlands, in the uprising against the king of Spain.

Anyhow, the Frisians of the present-day province of Friesland should be grateful for the centuries-long fight the West Frisians were able to put up. A fight both against the elements of nature, as well as against the counts of West Frisia, who later became the counts of Holland. It slowed down the ambitions of the Gerulfing dynasty to conquer the rest of Frisia east of the River Vlie all the way to the River Weser, which they thought they were entitled to. If the region of West Friesland had fallen into their greedy hands sooner, who knows the Gerulfings might have succeeded in incorporating the rest of Frisia as well. That could have meant the disappearance of the Mid Frisian language during the High Middle Ages altogether, similar to what happened in the region of Ommelanden in the province of Groningen and in the region of Ostfriesland.

Count of Holland William IV tried to invade the two sealand regions, Westergo and Oostergo, which together comprise more or less the modern province of Friesland, at the town of Stavoren in the year 1345. Commonly known as the Battle of Warns, the count's armies were defeated by the 'wild Frisians.' According to the contemporary chronicler De Lettenhove, the Frisians were dressed in heavy boots and long coats made of heavy cloth. He furthermore wrote that the Frisians did not take captives or hostages, which was the practice in warfare at that time; they simply slaughtered everyone. Above all, they immediately charged at the Holland army of William IV and started "chopping and stabbing like they were killing Saracens," i.e., the name for Muslims from northern Africa. Indeed, William IV was killed too, following the 'good example' set before by the Westfrisian with the killing of Holy Roman Emperor William II near the village of Hoogwoud in 1256, when the ice did not hold his body weight. Count William IV should have been warned if he had known the history of his ancestors a century before better.

Note — Featured image Marco van Middelkoop.